Given (3 page)

He never got to finish whatever scandalous thing he was about to say.

“Mr. Adams!” Mary Katherine screeched, no longer caring if she disturbed her guests. Before she could say anything more, he reached out and grabbed one of her thick braids. Using it to pull her closer, he bent his head and pressed his lips against hers. Mary Katherine gasped at the spark of sensation that raced through her body, making her nipples stiffen and moisture gather between her legs. Jacob took advantage of the gasp to slip his tongue between her lips. The silken caress escalated the sensations that were already making her shiver. Without thinking, she returned the gesture, stroking his tongue with hers. Now it was his turn to cry out, his lips traveling from her mouth to her neck.

“'Behold thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks…'“

It was a moment before what he was saying penetrated the sensual fog that had swamped her senses, but when it did, she gasped and tried to pull away. Appalled, she could only stare at him for a moment. Surely she'd heard wrong. “The Song of Solomon?” she said slowly. “You're
actually
quoting from the Bible while you try to seduce me?” she demanded, leaning away to stare at him.

Smiling wryly, he pressed his mouth against hers again and whispered, “The man had seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines, my sweet Kate. It's pretty obvious that he knew more than his fair share about love.” He kissed her again.

Mary Katherine pulled away, more forcefully this time. “But, but it's
the Bible
!” she sputtered.

Jacob took her chin in his hand, eager to continue what he'd started. “Yes, it is,” he acknowledged. “And men and women are as they've always been,” he told her with simple logic. “'Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet'“—another soft kiss—“'and thy speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within thy locks.'“ And as though following the lines of the verse, he caressed her temple with his lips.

Lulled by the seductive quality of his voice, Mary Katherine let her eyes fall shut, and she held her breath. She knew her Bible very well and knew that next there was a description of the neck, and after that—
Good heavens
! Eyes wide open now she pressed her hands to his chest and began to push him away. If he started describing her bosom, she'd be in more trouble than she'd ever been in before. She didn't think she would be able to stand up, let alone continue to resist him.

Thankfully, he didn't give her a problem. He released her without a fuss.

Still leaning over her, he placed another kiss on her forehead before stepping back. Without another word, he touched his forelock as though tipping his hat. Then, quiet as a shadow, he slipped out the cellar door.

Mary Katherine remembered to lock the door behind him this time. Indeed, for a moment she contemplated moving something in front of the door for additional security. Instead she stood there, stunned by what had happened. Jacob Adams had kissed her, and she'd let him, had even returned the kiss. She tentatively touched her bottom lip, which was still tingling in the aftermath of his kiss. It wasn't her first kiss; men had courted her over the years, and several had even been bold enough to kiss her. But
this
! This was so different from those chaste encounters that it strained credulity to call them both the same name.

Those kisses from other men had been pleasant, and she'd even found some of the men attractive and enjoyed their kisses, but none of them made her want to rip her clothes off so that she could feel the heated press of his bare flesh against hers. And to think, she'd gotten aroused from a man quoting the Bible. The rich baritone of his voice had left her shivering with desire. Land's sakes! The man had been proposing to her for months now, with no encouragement. Goodness only knew how he would interpret her response.

If he weren't the world's most aggravating man, she had no idea who might challenge him for the title. He'd actually had the audacity to propose matrimony the first day she had met him, almost six months before. She'd known his family for most of the ten years she'd lived in Gist Settlement; her parents had been good friends with his father. Jacob had only recently returned from out West. She wasn't really sure what he'd been doing out there, but his family didn't talk about him all that much. Then suddenly he'd simply reappeared.

She'd first encountered him when she went by the Adams home to call on his sister, Grace. He never said anything—just stared at her until she wanted to scream in irritation. He'd been so rude, she'd wondered if he were simpleminded. She'd even thought that it was a pity that such good looks were wasted on someone who was clearly daft. Well, he'd quickly disabused her of that notion. Jacob Adams was too clever by half, and that very same afternoon he'd proved it.

Mary Katherine shook her head as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. She touched her tongue to her bottom lip. Taking in Jacob's smoky, slightly salty flavor, she couldn't help but respond to that kiss all over again. She quickly took off her robe and slipped back into bed. Tomorrow would be a busy day, to be sure, and she needed her rest. She deliberately focused on work and the inventory she needed to check that week. Despite her best efforts, her thoughts wandered back to Jacob as she drifted off to sleep. She sniffed indignantly.
Fetching, indeed. Ha!

* * *

His steps measured and sure, Jacob took his time walking back to his family's home. He couldn't get Mary Katherine out of his thoughts. Moreover, he didn't want to. Thinking about her was no hardship. In all his life, he'd never met a woman like Miss Mary Katherine Day. A peace had settled over him the instant her soft brown eyes had locked with his for the first time all those months ago in his father's parlor. The words
finally she's here
had sounded in his head, and he'd heard them as clearly as he would have heard a whisper in his ear.

“I didn't know I was searching for her until I found her,” he said softly now as he continued his walk, and the wonder of it could still be heard in his voice. He thought about how he'd proposed to her the moment he'd gotten over the surprise of her, and smiled. Her body had gone stick straight with indignation, making her large bosom even more noticeable, while a tinge of embarrassed pink had made itself known under the smooth brown of her cheeks.

Jacob had taken it all in with a single glance, but he'd barely paid attention. What he'd concentrated on was her answer. He'd expected her to deny him, but when she had, he hadn't been able to keep the disappointment from coursing through him and leaving him feeling more than just a little hollow.

He'd rallied, of course.

Mary Katherine Day was meant to be his wife. This sudden and dizzying fact was visceral knowledge for him now, so he didn't question it. Even as a boy, he hadn't questioned when he'd felt things that deeply. He'd just accepted and done what was necessary, no matter the situation. Things always turned out the way they were supposed to. Some called this phenomenon a special gift; some called it unholy—both of which, as an Eshu, he was accustomed to hearing. He simply called it instinct. He listened to it, and nothing went wrong.

Instinct told him that Mary Katherine was to be his wife. Not only that, she calmed a restlessness that had been running through him since his mother's death when he was barely out of short pants. It had been a part of him for so long that he wouldn't recognize himself without it, and more often than not, he felt tortured by it.

Yes, she was the one for him. And despite what he was sure she considered his blasphemy with the Song of Solomon, he was a religious man, so he hesitated to call her his salvation, but she was close enough.

“A man would be a fool to walk away from even near salvation. And while my mama and papa might have raised a pack of animals,” he said wryly, “they sure didn't raise no fools. So, my sweet Kate, the chase continues.”

Mary Katherine stared at the calico-covered back of the woman who was exiting her general store. She didn't recognize the woman, but that wasn't unusual. Colored people from Ripley or other nearby towns frequently came to Gist to fraternize with other free blacks. The woman had requested a nonexistent brand of hair dressing, and Mary Katherine knew she had just gotten the long-awaited signal. So it was to be tonight, then. She released a sigh of relief.

The fugitives had been with her for three days. Other than the man who had been so sick, she'd never had anyone for such an extended period of time. The blacksmith—the missing conductor—had indeed been caught and was now in jail. His capture had thrown the Gist line of their network into disarray, so she wasn't surprised by the delay. Fortunately she had guests staying at her rooming house now, so she didn't feel quite so vulnerable to scrutiny. Even so, she was glad a conductor would be coming that evening.

She walked over to the long table in the back of the store where yard goods were cut. A quick glance and she could tell that she was running low on muslin and cheesecloth. She made a note on her inventory list, then stopped to speak to the young clerk she'd recently hired. Her father had opened the store a decade ago, and it had been his pride and joy. As a free black, he'd met and fallen in love with her mother, who had still been enslaved. He'd worked diligently to buy her freedom; then he'd moved them to Ohio from Tennessee. Memories of her parents were still bittersweet—they'd drowned when a bridge washed out under their carriage during a flash flood.

Her father had always planned to expand but had never gotten around to doing so. With all her heart Mary Katherine had shared her father's love for the small shop. The well-worn wood floors and the rows upon rows of dry goods were a delight she never grew tired of. She knew practically everything in the store from memory, from nails to yard goods, and could pinpoint each item's exact location on a moment's notice. She picked up her inventory list, needing to finish up that morning's work. Her current guests had been no trouble, but she never slept soundly when she had someone in the secret room, and tonight she might need to wait up for the conductor. If she hurried with her work, she might be able to get a short afternoon nap.

* * *

The bell at the door chimed earlier than she'd expected, but knowing that the conductor would arrive that evening, Mary Katherine had not gone to bed. After her quick nap that afternoon, she had changed into a drab shirtwaist and skirt she kept for just this purpose. Now she hurried down the stairs to hand off her cargo to the next conductor on the line. She had warned the couple to be ready to leave, and a quick check ascertained that they had followed her instructions. She told them to stay in the room until she came for them, then walked over to the cellar door.

After hearing the proper code, she opened the door and stopped in her tracks. It was Jacob standing in the darkness. She let him in, pausing to stare at him for a moment, so terrified that words failed her. Things were pretty disordered on the Gist line since Cameron had been captured, but it was not so muddled that they would send the same conductor to her house twice in a matter of days.

“Please tell me you came just to give me a message,” she said through a throat tightened with fear.

“No. I came for the cargo.” When she just stared at him without moving, he continued. “I know it's uncommon, but I was sent to pick up this cargo.”

Mary Katherine felt as though all the blood were being squeezed from her heart. A trap. It had to be a trap. From the intense look on his face, she knew his suspicions were the same as hers. Without thinking, she grabbed his upper arm. His biceps were so large, her hand barely made it a quarter of the way around. “Why did you come?” she asked.

“If you keep asking me questions of that nature, Miss Day, I'm going to start thinking you don't want me around,” he said with a soft drawl that didn't match his fierce expression. “Yes, I know it might be a trap, but I've got talents that should allow me to get away. I couldn't let someone less skilled take the chance.”

Mary Katherine shook her head. She wondered what talents he referred to. All the Adamses were good at directing the fugitives, but Jacob had been on the Gist line for less than six months. Of course, he might have been doing the same work elsewhere. Conductors were, by nature, a closemouthed group, but for him to deliberately step into a trap…