Read In a Stranger's Arms Online

Authors: Deborah Hale

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Victorian, #Historical Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #United States, #Historical Romance

In a Stranger's Arms (30 page)

BOOK: In a Stranger's Arms
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Apart from all the other impediments that held him back, Manning told himself it was ridiculous to kiss a woman on account of a... table. The unexpectedness of the moment and Caddie’s nearness overwhelmed his scruples more thoroughly than Doc Mercer’s whiskey.

He closed the tiny distance between them, which seemed to shimmer like air above the hot mouth of a cannon. Then he kissed Caddie in broad daylight, cold sober, with half a dozen people watching them, for all he knew. Manning wasn’t sure he could have stopped himself on threat of death.

Their lips met and molded together in unspoken harmony. To Manning she tasted as smooth and sweet as a saucer of strawberries and cream, with a delightful wild tang. For one reckless moment, he wanted to toss her onto that brand-new table and gorge on a banquet of Caddie.

The sound of a poorly smothered giggle jolted him back to his senses. He pulled away from Caddie just enough to see Tem and Varina watching them. Varina’s plump little hand was too small to stifle her enormous grin, and her eyes danced with gleeful mischief. Templeton’s cheeks glowed like hot coals, but his eyes shone with a rare, shy felicity Manning could not bear to cloud by recanting what he’d just done.

And Caddie?

At the same instant, they looked from the children to each other. What Manning saw in her face—something promising and expectant—made him want to kiss her again, even with an audience present. It also made him want to turn tail and run worse than a raw recruit getting his first taste of enemy fire.

“I’d b-better go fetch some more chairs,” he sputtered.

Then, for the sake of the children and possibly Caddie, he forced himself to smile as he raised his hand and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Save me a dance tonight.”

She hadn’t been this nervous before her first cotillion. As Caddie put on the prettiest dress she’d worn in the past five years, she fought to quiet the anxious little hummingbird that tickled her insides. But every time she thought about Manning’s kiss, she fancied the tiny creature’s wings picking up their frantic flutter again.

She told herself not to read anything into it, any more than she should pin her fragile hopes on the diffident brush of his fingers against her cheek or the request to save him a dance. Manning had played it all for the children’s benefit—Tem’s, mostly. While Caddie loved him for it an ember of resentment smoldered just the same.

Loved him?
Her rational faculties went on alarm. Surely she meant attraction...or fondness...or gratitude. Perhaps some hopelessly mixed-up combination of all those sentiments.

Love
, Caddie’s heart insisted, exhilarated and terrified to put that intimidating name on her feelings.

Perhaps Manning could love her, too, if only he’d let himself. True, that wasn’t why they’d married, but did it mean they must resist the feeling if it grew between them?

“Mama!” Varina pounded up the stairs. “Manning said to tell you company’s coming!”

“I’ll be right down.”

Caddie twirled around to enjoy the rustle of petticoats under her creamy, pale yellow ball gown. In the tiny mirror above her washstand she gave herself a critical look, then fussed with the clusters of auburn ringlets on each side of her head that whispered over her bare shoulders.

Had all the blushing she’d done in the past few months been good for her complexion? she wondered as she peered into the looking glass. The woman she saw there appeared much closer to twenty than thirty.

She hadn’t needed a mirror, after all, Caddie decided as she descended the staircase. The appreciative glow in Manning’s eyes assured her that she looked quite presentable.

His appearance, on the other hand, unsettled her. In more formal attire, carefully shaved and with his hair slicked down, he resembled Del even more than usual. Hard as she tried to ignore it, Caddie found herself moving and speaking more stiffly than she intended.

Not half as stiffly as Mrs. Pratt, however. That lady sailed through the entry a few minutes later with scarcely a word to Caddie, countering Manning’s outstretched hand with a glare of withering disdain. Jeff followed with his sister Ann and her young son. Ann looked less peaked than when Caddie had paid her call at Willowvale.

In a skittish whisper, she thanked Caddie and Manning for the invitation. “Remember the parties we used to have? All that seems like a dream now.”

From the parlor, Caddie overheard Jeff laying down the law to his formidable mother. “If you can’t behave with a little civility, I’ll get someone to fetch you home.”

Varina pounced on Ann’s son. “Say, what’s your name? Want to come and play with Tem and me? We got a dog, but he’s tied up so’s he don’t get at the barbecue.”

The boy blinked in wonder, as if the existence of females his own size was a revelation. “What’s barbecue?”

“Some kind of vittles they cook on a fire—smell.”

Both children inhaled deeply then ran off giggling.

Manning caught Caddie’s eye. “Maybe when fall comes we can hire somebody to teach the children?”

The Stevens clan appeared just then, leaving Caddie with no opportunity to answer. She hoped her smile would tell Manning how much the idea pleased her.

It froze on her face when she spied Lon and Lydene driving up in a fancy new buggy.

“If you’d be so good as to greet the rest of our guests, my dear, I really must go check on the barbecue.” Bad enough she had to suffer Lydene under her roof. Caddie wasn’t about to
welcome
that woman to Sabbath Hollow. “I see Jeff brought along his fiddle. I’ll ask him to strike up a tune in case folks want to dance.”

Manning nodded. “Don’t forget about the dance you owe me.”

Sweet anticipation rippled through Caddie.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” She cast her husband a challenging glance to warn him he’d better not disappoint her.

She had barely taken a step toward the parlor when she heard the first notes of
The Last Rose of Summer
.

Spotting Doc Mercer standing outside the room, she pulled him inside. “You know how bashful folks can be about getting started dancing. Let’s set them a good example.”

“That’s pretty bold, missy,” the doctor teased “but I don’t suppose a gentleman ought to turn down his hostess.”

Perhaps because they’d had neither the opportunity nor the desire to dance in quite a spell, the rest of the guests were quick to follow Caddie’s and Doc Mercer’s lead. By the time Jeff struck up a new tune and Caddie pushed the doctor toward Mrs. Pratt, several other couples had taken the floor, including Bobbie and Ann.

As she watched Dora serving lemonade, her wistful gaze straying frequently to the fiddler, a soft ache of regret stole over Caddie. If only they still had a piano, she might have been able to fumble through a simple piece or two so Jeff and Dora could have a dance.

“Nothing wrong, I hope?” Warm with concern, Manning’s voice wrapped around her.

“Not hardly.” Caddie glanced back to find him caressing her bare shoulders with his gaze. Her voice almost faltered. “Nothing important, anyhow.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” He held out his arm to her. “You can tell me all about it while we dance.”

Caddie gave a pointed look at Jeff and another at Dora as she took Manning’s arm. “I wouldn’t care to be overheard.”

His head dipped toward her, and for an intoxicating instant, Caddie thought he meant to kiss the base of her neck. Instead, he whispered in her ear. “In that case, you talk softly and I’ll lean good and close to hear you.”

They were far from the most graceful dancers on the floor, but Caddie didn’t care, as long as she had an excuse to feel the tender strength of Manning’s arms around her and the whisper of his breath against her hair.

“So what’s this unimportant problem that had you looking so thoughtful?” Manning murmured as he held her even closer.

Caddie liked the sound of his voice in her ear almost as much as she liked the taste of his kisses and the press of his body against hers.

“Do you know how hard it is for a lady to flirt with a gentleman who’s blind?” she asked.

For a long time, Manning had seemed blind to her as a woman. Fortunately, his vision had improved of late.

“Ah...” He looked toward Dora Gordon. “Are you sure you’ll be doing either of them a favor promoting that match? Young Jeff has plenty of responsibilities already, to his womenfolk and Ann’s boy, when he has a hard enough row to hoe just looking out for himself.”

“I know,” Caddie confessed. “But she’s dead gone on him and I think he could care for her if he’d let himself. I reckon folks ought to grab the chance for a little happiness when it comes.”

“You’re a real sensible woman, Mrs. Forbes.”

He’d never called her by that name before. Caddie’s spirits rode a rush of pleasure so high and fast it frightened her.

He steered her in Jeff’s direction. When the young man lifted his bow, Manning called out, “I haven’t got anything like your skill, Jeff, but I’ll spell you long enough to have a drink and maybe take a turn around the floor yourself.”

“I’m fine, boss.”

“Nonsense.” Caddie plucked a tray of lemonade glasses out of Dora’s hands and elbowed her toward Jeff. “You and Miss Gordon have both been working too hard. We want you to enjoy the party as much as everybody else. Now, you will be a gentleman and ask her to dance, won’t you?”

When Manning put his hands on the fiddle and bow, Jeff surrendered them. He seemed to sense Dora’s presence, for he turned toward her. “Will you take pity on me, Miz Dora? I reckon I can count on you not to let me bump into too many other folks on the dance floor.”

Dora glared at Caddie and Manning, perhaps not realizing her exasperated look was tempered with gratitude. “I’d be honored to dance with you, Mr. Pratt.”

With a tentative touch, Manning played the opening bars of
Believe Me if All Those Endearing Young Charms
. Jeff and Dora took to the floor with equal hesitation, but with each note and each step, both the musician and the dancers grew more confident.

Other couples crowded onto the floor, including Lydene with old Mr. Stevens. Her stylish new dress in a silvery-green shade made all the other ladies look shabby and twice-turned. Caddie tried to quell a pang of envy, but failed.

Lon was keeping Mrs. Pratt and Mrs. Gordon amused with reminiscences about the good old days at Sabbath Hollow, talking at a volume that threatened to drown out Manning’s fiddle playing. At least Lon and Lydene were staying out of her way, for which Caddie was thankful.

Confident that her guests seemed to be enjoying themselves, she bustled off to check on the barbecue. A while later, when heaping trays of pork and chicken had joined bowls of boiled greens, pans of corn bread and other hearty fare on her new dining table, Caddie returned to the parlor to call everyone to supper. The words froze on her lips as she stood in the doorway staring at the dancers.

During the time she’d been gone, Manning had relinquished the fiddle to Jeff again. Now he glided around the room, easy as you please, with Lydene clinging to him the way Spanish moss clung to big cypress trees in the Low Country. Suddenly the other woman glanced Caddie’s way, her sassy dark eyes glittering with insolent triumph.

A scary sensation rose in Caddie, hot and cold at the same time, like the queer warmth of frostbite or the clammy chill of a breeze on sweat-slick skin. It made her want to rage and scream, yet it tightened her throat until she could barely breathe, let alone speak.

Was the sensation that overwhelmed her jealousy? Caddie couldn’t think what else to call it.

As she watched Lydene whisper something in Manning’s ear, then let out a high-pitched giggle, Caddie quivered with barely suppressed violence. The sickening sense of betrayal and humiliation she’d experienced the night she’d caught Lydene in bed with Del had been a mere fancy compared to this. How could she have been such a fool as to grant Manning Forbes this terrible power to hurt her?

He must be hearing things.

As Lon Marsh’s minx of a wife sashayed off at the end of their dance, Manning stuck his pinkie finger in his left ear and wiggled it around hard.

BOOK: In a Stranger's Arms
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