Jillian Hart – Patchwork Bride (страница 10)

Dawn hadn’t yet softened the night’s shadows, but already the horses were stirring, some more enthusiastic than others, nickering for attention and feed. Braden led the first animal out of her stall—a demure white mare—and cross-tied her in the breezeway.

“Get to work.” Braden handed him a pitchfork and left him to take care of business.

A lot must have been on his mind last night because it tried to surface as he worked. He dug the tines into the soiled straw and hiked it into a pile. He worked with quick, even strokes, lifting and turning the fork, making fast work of the roomy stall before moving onto the next. Was Meredith far from him mind?

Not a chance.

Worse than that, he couldn’t stop thinking of home. As merry golden light fell through the cracks in the walls and the double doors open on either end of the barn, he lost his battle to keep sad things buried. Maybe it was this place, he conceded, with its impressive stone-and-wood manor house. The no-expenses-spared stables and fine pedigreed horses reminded him of his family’s stable back home. Not that Father was a horseman by any means, but he took pride in owning the best driving horses in White Water County. Appearances were everything in his family.

His guts still twisted up remembering the pressure he’d felt as the firstborn. The love he’d tried so hard to earn most of his childhood until he finally figured out that if you had to earn it, then it wasn’t love. Not the real thing, anyway.

Although he’d been gone a while, he missed his family. Just because he couldn’t get along with them didn’t mean a lack of love. He thought of Grandmama and her kitchen full of delicious smells and her plain house full of blooming flowers. Mother with her narrow view of the world and her belief that she ought to control what she could of it. His younger brother who was always in and out of one scrape or another. Hard to imagine him buckling down to work in Father’s and Grandfather’s firm and being groomed for politics. He missed the boy’s constant ribbing and antics.

Homesickness tugged at him. There were good things he missed—wrestling with his brother, riding with his dad, his mother’s cookies and his grandmother’s understanding. Sure, he missed home, although he did not want to be there.

“Time to harness up the gray mare for the schoolgirls.” Braden’s announcement rang through the barn like a death knell.

Shane grimaced. In truth, he’d been hoping to put that task off as long as possible. Nothing to be done about it but put aside his pitchfork, leave the rest to Braden and go in search of the old, placid mare.

Sweetie greeted him with hopefulness. Recognizing the gleam in those big brown eyes, he searched his pockets for a sugar cube. She took it daintily from his palm, a polite girl. Hard not to like her. Her beauty wasn’t in long, perfect lines or the quality of her breeding, but in something far more important. He led her gently through the barn to the buggy he’d washed while his hands froze in yesterday’s last bit of daylight and slipped a collar over her neck.

“Whatever happens—” a voice broke the silence behind him “—don’t let Meredith talk you into driving.”

“Yes, Mr. Worthington.” He’d met the patriarch of the family late last night after all the barn work was done. He didn’t have an opinion of the man one way or the other. Worthington hadn’t been as off-putting as his wife and was far friendlier. Shane gave the mare a pat. “I expect the roads to be tough going, so I’d like to get an early start.”

“Wise. I’ll inform the girls.” Robert hesitated like a man with something on his mind.

Here it comes, Shane predicted. He buckled the gray mare into the traces, bracing himself for whatever warning or judgment the wealthy man was about to make. Most likely a threatening warning to stay away from the Worthington daughters.

“It was hard to let Eli go. He had been a fine employee. Always took care of my horses and my girls. I never gave either of them a moment’s worry when they were in his care.” Robert cracked a smile, a masculine hint of Meredith’s, and he had the same stormy blue eyes.

This job meant a lot to him so he would take the warning on the chin. Not let insult to injury show.

“I can read between the lines,” Worthington went on. “The mud on the girls. Mud on the buggy. And poor Sweetie was barrel high. I noticed you cleaned the buggy, boots and tack without saying a word. You helped the girls when they needed it, and I’m much obliged. I can rest easier knowing they are in safe hands with you at the reins.”

Sometimes folks surprised you, Shane thought as he gave the last buckle a tug. Maybe this would be a better assignment than he’d figured, not that he was looking forward to driving Miss Meredith Worthington around town. But this was what Worthington wanted, so he would do it to the best of his ability. “I won’t disappoint you, sir.”

“You say that like a man who has no clue what he’s in for.” Worthington shook his head, retracing his steps. “Meredith is not happy about this. Consider it a word of warning.”

Meredith. As if his thoughts had summoned her, she bustled into the barn, dusted with snowfall and clutching a big stack of schoolbooks in the crook of her arm. If the scowl on her beautiful face was any indication, she was about as thrilled with the situation as he was.

Chapter Five

Her plan to banish Shane Connelly from her thoughts backfired like a Winchester with a jammed cartridge. Meredith swiped snow from her face as she took smaller and smaller steps toward the waiting buggy. He was there, as remote as stone, as unmoving as marble. He did not even seem to be breathing.

Perhaps it was especially difficult for him to be anywhere in proximity to her. She pushed Minnie ahead of her, gently nudging her along so she would reach the buggy first. She’d worried over this moment all night long, whenever dreams would pull her from her sleep, taunting dreams of Shane’s smile, his dimples, the snap of aliveness she’d felt in his presence. Regret had chased her all night long, keeping her sleep fitful and dawn a welcome release. She’d risen out of bed, dreading each step she took, each word to her sisters, every bite at the breakfast table because it led her all inexorably here to this unstoppable moment as he helped Minnie into the buggy’s backseat and then held out his gloved hand.

Memories of that hand in hers mocked her. Worse, he gazed past her, as if she didn’t exist to him. Much worse than she’d anticipated. She didn’t have to worry about meeting his gaze and being reminded of his words last night. She ignored his hand and clamored into the buggy of her own accord, settling her skirts and reaching for the lap robe before he could help.

You can be tougher than this, Meredith. She set her chin, focused her gaze forward, aware of his hesitation, so near to her she could hear him breathe. His gaze scorched her, raking the side of her face like a touch. If she turned and dared to face him, would she see regret softening the rugged angles of his handsome face? Or would she see his disdain?

His opinion of you doesn’t matter, she told herself, curling her fingers tightly around the hem of the robe. She was independent. She should not need any man’s regard, and it irked her beyond all reason that his opinion did matter. Somehow the air turned colder, the morning less bright as he took a silent step away and settled with a creak of leather onto the front.

“What about the roads?” Minnie scooted forward and laid her arms against the back of his seat. “Are we going to get stuck again?”

“We’ll have to wait and see,” came Shane’s reply, warm and friendly as he gathered Sweetie’s reins. “The snow is too wet for the sleigh and the road is too soft for the wheels. It ought to be interesting.”

“I trust you.” Minnie grinned at him, flashing her adorable dimples. “I know you’re a really good driver. I can tell because Papa hired you.”

“Then I’ll try not to let you or your papa down.” Shane released the brake and gave the thick leather straps a careful slap. The old gray mare stepped out into the yard, eager to lift her nose to the flyaway snowflakes tumbling from the sky. An arctic wind fluttered her mane and ruffled the edges of the lap robe, letting in a cold blast of air.

“That’s good, because I don’t want to be late. I have a spelling test this morning and I can’t miss it,” Minnie chattered on. “I really worked hard and I know every word perfectly.”

“You do?” Shane seemed interested in a kindly, brotherly way.

If Meredith didn’t have her heart set against him, then she would have liked how he treated her little sister.

“It’s the very first time I have studied so hard.” Minnie swiped snow from her eyes. “I always pretend to study, but Mama keeps getting really mad at my grades. I have to go to finishing school in two years, and my marks are abysmal. That’s what Mama says. I don’t think they are all that bad. I would rather be riding horses than sitting in school.”

“That’s the way I felt, too, shortcakes. I finished school first, and then I started working with horses.” He turned his attention to the road ahead of them, the half-frozen mud clutching the buggy wheels like glue. The old mare struggled, lowering her head to dig in with all her might.