From This Day Forward (9 page)

She moved into the room and picked up a china plate to serve herself at the sideboard. The aromas from buckwheat cakes, cold bread, sausages, and mush whetted her appetite. As she took a chair, Nathan appeared in the entrance. His gaze snagged hers and held it. Dark shadows under his eyes attested to the long hours he had spent at his grandfather’s bedside. One corner of his mouth lifted, his look sparkling to life.

“I’m starved.” Nathan filled his plate with a taste of every food laid out for their pleasure. When he sat across from Rachel, he asked, “Have you been resting well?”

She nodded. “Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“I learned how to make Johnny cakes, and this mush is my contribution to the meal.”

“You cooked?” Nathan glanced toward his brother. “I told you she needed to rest. It hasn’t even been a week since she delivered her baby.”

“ ’Tis clear you have not tried to stop her from doing as she intends.” Mr. Stuart waited until the young black girl filled his cup with tea then took a sip.

The servant poured tea for Rachel too. Steam wafted from her drink, the heat rivaling the look Nathan shot his younger brother. “I am most reasonable when it is warranted.”

Mr. Stuart chuckled. “You see what I had to deal with.”

Nathan lowered his head and took a bite of his buckwheat cakes.

Rachel sipped her tea while waiting for the men to sample her mush. Finally, after Nathan ate all his cakes and sausage, he dipped a spoon into the creation she’d made by herself while the cook went about her usual duties. When Nathan slid the utensil between his lips, she held her breath. It was a simple recipe the cook had said would be hard to mess up.

With his mouth puckering and his eyes watering, Nathan gulped down the bite and quickly followed it with several large swallows of tea. He coughed and drank some more.

“What is wrong?” Rachel peered from Nathan to his brother, who placed his spoonful of mush back onto his plate.

“Salt. How much did you put in this?” Nathan asked in a strained voice.

“Cook said to salt to taste. It was bland, so I thought it would need a lot.” Rachel took a small taste of the mush, lumps and all, not completely prepared for the salty assault on her tongue. Tears, more from her failure than the salt, glistened in her eyes, making Nathan’s image blurry. “I am sorry. Next time I will add only a pinch or two.”
Not a palm full
. “One pinch did not seem to do anything.”

“Perhaps you should stay a little longer so the cook can instruct you again.” Mr. Stuart finished his meal, all except the mush.

Nathan yanked his head up. “Grandfather is on the mend. Staying longer will not set well with him.”

“Nonsense. He has tolerated you.” Patrick snapped his mouth closed, his gaze glued to the entrance into the dining room.

Rachel swiveled her attention to the older man with long white hair standing in the doorway, his shoulders slumped over, his hands clutching a cane. His dark eyes full of thunder.

“There is a young English girl upstairs with a baby. What is she doing in my house?” Nathan’s grandfather’s gaze zeroed in on Rachel, hard, relentless. “Who are you?”

“I am Rachel Gordon.”

“Are you with that English girl?”

She nodded, her throat going dry as he drilled his gaze into hers.

“I told her to pack her bag and get off my land. The English are not welcome here.”

Nathan bolted to his feet, knocking his chair over. The crash reverberated through the room. “We are leaving.”

His grandfather directed his fury at Nathan. “You brought them here? You know how I feel about the English.”

“I brought Rachel here. The war is over, Grandfather.” Nathan’s brother rose and rushed to his side to assist him to a chair.

The old man shook off his help. “Makes no difference to me. All English are a murdering, lying bunch.” He raised his cane toward Rachel. “Get off my land.”

Nathan grabbed the carved wooden weapon as his grandfather waved it in the air and stilled its movement. “We are going. I can see you don’t need my help any longer.”

“Never did.” Mr. Stuart’s eyes narrowed to slits, with his mouth set in a determined slash. He wrenched the cane from Nathan’s grasp and hobbled toward the head of the table.

The older man’s hatred shuddered down Rachel’s length. She pushed to her feet, her legs trembling so badly she wasn’t sure she would make it out of the room. Nathan clasped her arm and led her into the foyer. She wanted to lean into him for support, but as energy surged through her limbs, she stepped away from him.

I am not Nathan’s problem
.

Fear underlining her features, Maddy descended the stairs, with Faith cradled in one arm and carrying a bag with the other.

Rachel hurried to her maid and took her daughter, hugging Faith to her while loud voices boomed from the dining room. Without a backward glance, she spun around and headed for the front entrance. If she had to walk, she would leave Pinecrest now. Quaking, she clasped her daughter tighter against her to keep from dropping her.

Maddy kept pace with her. “Are we leaving, ma’am?”

“Yes.” At the door she looked back at Nathan.

A war raged on his face—regret quickly evolving into anger. “Go to the stable. I will be there shortly.” Then he turned on his heel and marched back into the dining room.

Rachel didn’t wait to hear his exchange with his grandfather. The older man’s fury reminded her of her father’s when he heard about her marriage to Tom. But this time she had done nothing but be born an Englishwoman.

Nathan sat in front of the fireplace, staring at the flames devouring the logs. For a few minutes the mesmerizing blaze lured his thoughts away from what had happened that morning at Pinecrest. Until he saw Rachel standing in the doorway to the bedchamber. He did not want to have this conversation with her, but he glimpsed determination in her expression. Sighing, he leaned against the hard back of the chair.

“I wish I had not accepted your brother’s invitation to stay at Pinecrest.” Rachel moved toward the other chair in front of the fireplace and eased onto its wooden seat. “When you talked about your grandfather, I didn’t understand the extent of his hatred toward the English.”

“I apologize for how he treated you. What happened to our family was thirty-seven years ago. You had nothing to do with it. He has become unreasonable in his old age, and I told him that this morning.” His grandfather’s anger still gripped Nathan, coiling his gut into a hard knot.

“Does he know that Amos came to fix the cart?”

“No. Patrick insisted Amos come in spite of how Grandfather felt.”

“What if he finds out about Amos? Will Amos get in trouble?” Rachel entwined her hands so tightly her knuckles whitened.

“He will not find out. When I left the house, Patrick was helping Grandfather back to his bedchamber. His outburst sapped his energy.”

“Is he all right?”

Nathan bolted to his feet. “You are worried about a man who threw you off his land because you were born in England.”

“He is your grandfather, and you have done so much for me.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “It probably didn’t help that you were with me.”

“But you stayed by his side and nursed him for two days. Surely that meant something to him.”

The fury he had faced this morning in the dining room told him otherwise. “I prefer not to discuss my grandfather anymore. It will not change his mind about how he feels about me.”

“Then could you tell me when Faith should start eating solid food? She is constantly nursing. Is that normal? Is that…” She gasped, her hand to her mouth. “I should not have asked you that. I know you are a doctor, but…” Her strangled voice came to a halt.

Nathan couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or the heat from the fire flushing her cheeks—or both. He compressed his lips to still a smile. “I don’t know. I realize that some physicians are delivering babies more and more, but I am afraid my experience is limited to older patients. Mostly soldiers and their ailments and wounds.”

“I am sure I shall figure it out.” Her expression full of doubt, Rachel yawned. “It has been a long day, and tomorrow will be another one, with you taking me to my farm.” Rising, she gave him a smile. “I cannot thank you enough for helping me these past five days. Good night.”

Nathan watched her disappear into the other room, the words he needed to say to her on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t tell her he was not going to take her to her land tomorrow. He had one last thing he would try to talk her out of staying at Dalton Farm. If that did not work, he didn’t know what he was going to do.

Turning back to the blaze, he stared at the yellow and orange flames. An idea began to take shape in his mind. Perhaps he should write her family in England and tell them of her plight. He gathered his writing supplies and sat in front of the fire to do just that.

When he finished, a restlessness still claimed him. He paced the main room, trying to figure out what else was nagging him. Bits and pieces of his conversation with Patrick infiltrated his mind. It had been five years since he had written his mother in England. Even if she wanted nothing to do with her children, he was going to write her a letter to let her know what was happening to them. He was not doing it for his mother but for himself. This sense of abandonment overcame him every time he thought about her. The same feeling he glimpsed in Rachel.

Is that why I cannot leave her at the farm and walk away?

Six

“I don’t understand why you cannot take me to my farm today,” Rachel said, cradling Faith close to her while she sat on the cart seat next to Nathan. He was so near his arm continually brushed hers as he held the reins. Perhaps she should have brought Maddy with her instead of traveling alone with Nathan, but this morning her maid had wanted to try to follow Pinecrest’s cook’s instruction on how to make tallow candles.

“I thought you might like to talk with my sister about raising babies.”

“This is about that question I asked you last night, is it not?” Rachel stared at his strong hands clasping the leather straps and remembered again those same hands covering hers and pressing them into the dough. The memory bombarded her with a finely honed awareness of the man beside her.

Nathan tightened his grip on the reins. “My experience as a doctor has mainly been on the battlefield.”

“Not the nursery?” She wanted to take his hands into hers and knead the tension from them. Ever since they had returned from Pinecrest, he had been wound so tightly, withdrawing into a place deep inside him.

“Right. I have absolutely no experience raising children. Sarah should know when to start Faith on solid foods and anything else you need to know.” He guided the cart off the road onto a lane.

Through the pine trees Rachel glimpsed a red brick house much like Pinecrest except that this place exuded warmth. A profusion of flowers softened the exterior and welcomed visitors. Rachel immediately thought of her family estate in England. The beat of her heart slowed to a throbbing ache. She missed her sister and two brothers. She missed her parents and wished she were going to her mother for advice about babies, not a woman who was practically a stranger.

“Then you will take me to the farm tomorrow?”

“Look, my sister is outside in her garden. She takes after my mother and loves to spend time among her flowers.” Nathan urged the horse to a faster pace and brought the cart to a stop near his sister.

Sarah got to her feet, removing her straw hat and wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “I must be seeing things. That is the only way to account for me seeing my big brother three times in a week.”

Smiling, Nathan jumped down from the cart. He reached to take Faith. “Come over here and be useful, Sarah.” After giving the baby to his sister, he placed his hands about Rachel’s waist to help her down.

The moment he touched Rachel her pulse began to pound and her mouth went dry. She stared into his eyes, her throat closing at the gentle look he gave her. So different from Tom. When he set her on the ground, his hands lingered about her, his gaze still bound to hers. She became lost in his blue eyes, like the sky as evening approached, and for a moment no one else existed.

Sarah coughed. Instantly Rachel pulled back from Nathan, averting her look while disappointment took hold of her. She missed the feel of his hands on her waist, the sense of security she felt with him near.

Rachel took Faith from Sarah and bent to coo at her daughter. Embarrassment burned her cheeks when she caught the speculative gleam in Sarah’s eyes.

“Did everything go all right at Pinecrest? You have not come to tell me bad news, have you?” Sarah angled her straw hat back on her head.

“I didn’t say I was going.”

“I know you, Nathan. You went. In spite of what has happened between you two, you still love Grandfather.”

“But that’s not enough,” Nathan murmured, almost to himself. “I would say our grandfather is getting better. He had enough strength to throw me off his land yesterday. I think my presence inspired him to get well so he could do just that.”