Given (7 page)

Cameron rose to his feet, immediately looking around the campsite in awe. “My God, what are they? Demons?”

Jacob nodded distractedly. He was surprised that the Thakathi hadn't used their magic to kill Cameron when Matthew and he had shown up. Perhaps they had been so startled, they hadn't thought of it. “Close enough. They'll be back, and we've got to get you away. There's nothing for it, Cam, but you've got to leave town.”

Cameron nodded. “Are they slave catchers?”

“Yes, you could say that.” Jacob was unwilling to share any more information than he had to. Only a very few humans knew what his people were, and the Eshu preferred to keep it that way.

“I didn't even have cargo; they just appeared in my shop one day and grabbed me. When they didn't take me to jail down in Ripley, I figured they were just going to kill me. Then when they brought me here, I thought they were going to torture me for names. But they never asked me anything.” He shook his head, and Jacob could understand why the man was confused. “I expected to die, but I didn't tell them anything. My wife? My daughter?”

“Nobody's bothered them,” Matthew said.

“I'm thinking, and Papa agreed, that you'll have to go to Canada, and we'll get them there as well,” Jacob added.

Cameron nodded again. Jacob handed him the clothes they'd brought for him, and he dressed quickly. Despite his time in the witches' hands, the man was surprisingly strong, which meant they probably hadn't tortured him long. At least, Jacob hoped not. According to his father, Thakathi power increased according to the length of time they were able to torture their prey. Cameron's upper body, heavily muscled by years at the forge, glistened with sweat and his blood, but he didn't stagger as they ran back to the woods, to the horses they'd hidden there. It didn't take long for them to mount and then ride out, headed north as fast as their steeds would carry them. They had a connection to make in the next county. Their network would have to serve its own for a change.

“Are you quite mad, sir?” Mary Katherine asked Jacob with a frown. They stood in an aisle of Adams and Sons Carpentry, where he had her practically backed up against a shelving unit.

He pulled back to look down at her, and his lips curved in a small smile. “That's not what a man expects to hear when he asks a woman to marry him.”

“It should be if he makes a habit of proposing to women he's only just met.”

“Perhaps, but I didn't just meet you. I've known you for months.”

“Precisely.
That's hardly enough time for a man to know a woman before he proposes marriage to her.”

“Depends on the man.
Besides, you have to marry me, as there was nothing close to a repudiation passing through your sweet lips when we had our special visit that night last week.”

Heart pounding, cheeks heating, Mary Katherine broke eye contact and looked down in hot embarrassment. “Clearly I was overcome with relief that you were safe.”

He laughed. Loud and long. “Oh, is that what they're callin' it now?
Relief
?”

“Shut your vulgar mouth, Jacob Adams! A true gentleman would never speak of such a thing.”

More laughter.
“Maybe he wouldn't, but I would.”

Mary Katherine glared at him, barely restraining the urge to hit him right on that smug mouth of his. Too annoyed to speak, she didn't respond.

“You didn't answer my original question,” she heard him say gruffly.

She stared at him in patent disbelief. “I hardly think your question warrants an answer,” she responded with a sniff.

Jacob chuckled and shook his head slowly as he stared down at her wealth of hair. It was sternly controlled in a prim, upswept style. He wondered what it would look like loose and about her shoulders—her
naked
shoulders. “Such fancy speech and manners,” he teased. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you were raised by my mama.”

Mary Katherine didn't know what to say to that comment, so she said nothing at all. She looked up when the shop bell rang, and felt almost light-headed with relief when Caleb Adams entered the store. She allowed her eyes to close for a brief second.
Oh, God is good! The cavalry is here
! She rushed over to meet him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Adams. It's so good to see you again,” she said as she forced a smile and hoped she didn't look as flustered as she felt. To say that Jacob made her nervous was putting it mildly. The man terrified her. Well, not the actual
man
, but what he represented terrified her absolutely. He represented possibility—the possibility that she'd forsake all that she believed in and actually marry him. Never once since she'd come of age had she been tempted to do such a thing. No man had ever been up to the task of changing her mind. But Jacob Adams was obviously no ordinary man, especially not when it came to her senses.

She'd gone out of her way to avoid him since that embarrassing encounter last week, even delaying checking on the table she'd ordered and had been anxiously awaiting, to keep from seeing him. Finally she'd realized that no matter how brazen (or daft) the man was, he would not importune her in front of his father and brother, so she'd come down to their shop, only to discover that Jacob was there alone. Of all times for Caleb Adams to go pick up a delivery at the lumberyard.

Caleb looked down at her from his impressive height. “Good afternoon, Miss Day. Did you come by to see the table we made for you?”

“Yes, I did, Mr. Adams, if it's convenient,” she said, nervously licking her lips. With Jacob standing behind her, she could feel his eyes on her as if they were breath against her skin. Heat rose up to her face as she recalled the way she'd acted in response to his kiss. Why, she'd acted like a female dog in heat. Thank God his father didn't know. Or did he? She sneaked a peek up at Mr. Adams and saw him look over her head to frown at his son. But he reserved a smile for her before taking her arm to lead her over to the showroom area of their carpentry shop.

When she'd inherited her parents' general store and boardinghouse the previous year, she'd quickly remembered that her father had planned to expand their dining room for years. He hadn't had an opportunity to do so before his early death. The meals made by her cook were so popular that it would be financial idiocy for her not to follow through with her father's plans. And to do just that, she'd ordered two tables from the Adamses. She looked over the large oak table she'd commissioned. As she'd expected, the craftsmanship was second to none. She smoothed her hand over the silken finish that made the wood glow in the sunlight streaming into the shop's window.

Caleb nodded as though she'd spoken. “Jacob is the best carpenter in the state, bar none. I taught him, but he surpassed me long ago. He put six coats of linseed oil and beeswax on that table; it should stand up to anything your customers might throw at it.”

At the mention of his name, Mary Katherine involuntarily glanced over at Jacob. Just as she'd suspected, he was still staring at her. His eyes were all but telegraphing his thoughts and left her even warmer than the hot summer day.

“As you say, Mr. Adams, the craftsmanship is superb.”

“We can deliver this one tomorrow and the other next week or early the following week.”

“That's perfect. The dining room should be ready by then.”

They spent a few more minutes discussing the delivery time and making arrangements for payment, and then Mary Katherine departed. Only deeply ingrained manners and pride prevented her from running upon exiting the establishment.

* * *

Mary Katherine had barely made it out the door when Caleb Adams wheeled around to face his son. “What in thunderation is wrong with you, boy? You were looking at that poor girl like you wanted to eat her alive.”

Jacob grinned wickedly and slowly stroked his chin. “Now there's a thought.”

Matthew Adams came out of the storeroom to join his father and brother. Long, dark, and lean, he couldn't be mistaken for anything but an Adams. “Was that the lovely Miss Day?” he asked and whistled softly under his breath. “That is one fine piece of womanhood there,” he said while giving his brother a sly look. “I'm surprised she can walk upright with that impressive bosom, but I do enjoy watching her do so.”

Jacob turned on his brother with a growl. Before he could put his upraised fist to good use, his father grabbed it and turned him back around to face him.

“I'll not have you two fighting in the shop again. Destroyed darned near every piece in here the last time you decided to take up fisticuffs.”

“He should not be talking about Mary Katherine that way,” Jacob snarled.

“I agree that what he said was improper,” Caleb said with a warning glance at his younger son. “But I've certainly heard you say worse.”

“Haven't you heard, Papa?” Matthew asked with undisguised glee. “Jake proposed to Miss Day.”

“What? Is this true, Son? When did this happen?”

Jacob shrugged. “I've been asking since the first day we met.”

“Yes, she gave old Jake here the mitten,” Matthew said. “Turned him down flat.”

Caleb looked back to Jacob. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Curious how people keep asking me that,” Jacob said mildly.

“Son, I know you've been gone for a long time, but here in Ohio, we generally go through a courtship before we ask a lady to marry us.”

Jacob didn't respond. Instead he walked back over to his worktable, where he was milling a piece of molding. He worked in silence for a long while, with both his father and brother staring at him in bemusement. Finally he looked up from his work and raised a brow in inquiry.

“As my brother so crudely put it,” Jacob began, “Miss Day is a lovely woman, and she's well past marrying age. Are all the men in this town blind, or is there some reason why she's not married?”

His father returned his stare and hesitated as though he was considering not answering Jacob's question. Then he pursed his lips. “According to your sister, Miss Day has no desire to marry. She's always believed that marriage is too restrictive for women, and now that she's inherited such a fine business, that belief has strengthened twofold. She thinks she can run it herself without the aid of a man.”

“Oh, does she now?” Jacob's lips curved upward in a smile that somehow looked more predatory than amused. “Then I guess I'll have to do what I can to change the lovely lady's mind, won't I?”

“So, Mary Katherine, are you going to tell me what has precipitated your sudden interest in my oaf of a brother?”

Startled, Mary Katherine bought herself some time by taking a drink from her cup of tea. She sat in the Adamses' parlor, where she'd come to visit with her best friend. Finally he looked at Grace Adams, the only female and youngest person in the Adams household. At twenty-four, Grace was unmarried, mule-headed, outspoken, and oftentimes uncontrollable. And in Mary Katherine's opinion, much too perceptive. Therefore, equivocating with Grace was not an easy thing to do. Mary Katherine believed that she was up to the challenge. “I don't know what you mean,” she told her firmly, putting her cup back on the saucer with a snap.

Grace only raised a brow. “Oh,” she said and took her time taking a sip from her own cup. “Don't you?”