Guide Me Home (17 page)

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Authors: Kim Vogel Sawyer

BOOK: Guide Me Home
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“All right, boy, I's trustin' you wit' her.”

The two shook hands, and then Devlin returned to the table and organized his tools.

Tolly stood near, hands in his pockets and chin high. “But like I say, if her daddy tells her no, you's on yo' own tomorruh. An' it's only fair to warn you some folks in these parts are plumb skittish 'round stranguhs. You might get hollered at. Somebody might throw a rock at you. Somebody else jus' might point a rifle barrel at you. So think twice befo' ridin' up on somebody's property 'less there's someone along who can introduce you.” He chuckled, proving he'd set aside his sternness. “I'd hate to see yo' new clothes get a hole poked clear through. 'Specially with you inside 'em.”

Devlin grinned. “Thank you, Tolly. I appreciate the advice.”

“Advice is free,” the black man said, his grin wide. He looked out the window. “Rain's stopped. Reckon you can go on back to yo' cottage now, Devlin, an' I can take these torch things to my cabin, let Reb have a little time to herself. Haven't had much o' that since Devlin come along, have you, Reb?”

Tolly was right. She'd spent every minute of wakefulness either in the cave with both men or under Tolly's watchful gaze. Having an hour to herself should be a treat. So why didn't excitement fill her? She shrugged.

Tolly shook his head, as if disgusted with her. “Come on now, Devlin, let's clear out. Them papers an' things'll still be here in the mo'nin'.” He gave Devlin a clap on the back that sent him out the door. Tolly scooped up the staves, bark, and pail of pitch. “Be seein' you in the mo'nin', Reb. You an' me can work aftuh breakfast, all right?”

She followed the men to the door. “That sounds fine, Tolly. Good night.”

Tolly crossed the short expanse to his cabin, and Rebekah remained on her stoop, watching Devlin stride across the ground toward the hotel. The farther he went, the more loneliness pricked. She sighed.

The gruff sound of a throat being cleared intruded. Rebekah glanced at Tolly, who stood outside his door watching her.

Her face flamed. “Good night, Tolly.” She hurried inside and closed the door.

Devlin

D
evlin swung himself into the saddle of a sorrel mare named, of all things, Marey. The horse snorted and he patted her sleek neck.

The stable hand gave Devlin the reins. “Here you go, Mr. Bale. Enjoy your ride.”

“Thank you. I'm sure I will.” He turned to Rebekah, who sat straight spined and at ease on a spotted gelding the hand had called Jinx, and his heart caught.

She wore a dress this afternoon, a calico frock lacking even one embellishment of lace, a stark contrast to his belted jacket with its carved wood buttons and his sporty jodhpurs, his standard riding suit. He'd settled a gray wool ivy cap over his hair, but her dark hair was uncovered, giving him a full view of her long, thick braid. How could she be so simply attired and still steal his breath? He hoped he'd be able to keep his eyes on the trail. Miss Rebekah Hardin was an arresting sight.

“Are you ready?” She curled her reins around her hand and leaned forward slightly in her sidesaddle, as if preparing to race.

He grinned. “Yes, but take it easy on me, will you? I'm not as experienced at riding as you are.”

She wrinkled her nose—an adorable gesture. “Riding I've done, but I'm not so sure about this saddle.”

Her full skirt spread out like a curtain across the horse's side, but he glanced at what little he could see of the saddle. “Isn't it fastened correctly?” He lifted his hand to beckon assistance.

“I don't know. I've never used a saddle before.”

Devlin froze with his hand in the air and gawked at her.

“And this thing's pretty peculiar.”

The stable hand hurried over. “Did you need something, sir?”

“N-no, my apologies.” He waited until the young man trotted off. Then he leaned toward Rebekah and forced a question past his raspy throat. “You…you've never sat a saddle before?”

She shook her head, making her braid swing across her spine.

“Then how do you ride?”

She shrugged. “Bareback.”

And likely astride. An earthy picture flooded Devlin's mind, and he straightened abruptly. Marey pawed the ground and snorted in protest. He absently patted the horse's neck and forced the images from his head. “Well, er, do you suppose you'll manage to remain seated as we ride?” He didn't want her falling off.

“I'll be fine, but we better take it slow.”

Devlin couldn't prevent a smile from growing. “But not too slow, or Tolly will suspect we were up to shenanigans.”

A rosy blush stole over her cheeks. She aimed her face to the opening in the corral and chirped to the horse. Jinx obediently moved forward, and Devlin encouraged Marey to follow.

He stayed behind, allowing Rebekah to lead the way from the hotel grounds to the road. Trees lined both sides of the dirt road, and the overhead sun lit the pathway with burnished gold. He couldn't have requested a more perfect spring day for a ride through the country. He'd intended to examine the area so he could share his findings with Father, but instead he became enraptured with Rebekah Hardin, with her braid bouncing lightly against her narrow back and the graceful way she held herself in the unfamiliar saddle.

Had he ever been so intrigued by a woman before? Although he could list a half-dozen girls who'd briefly captured his interest when he was younger, none of his boyhood infatuations compared to the affection and admiration expanding his chest as he gazed at this hills girl's plainly dressed form. What would she look like in city clothes and with her hair done up in a poufy roll? He tried hard to envision it, but instead images of her trekking across the grass in her trousers intruded. Maybe Rebekah wasn't meant for city finery. The idea didn't settle well.

One of the hotel wagons lumbered toward them, its bed filled with jabbering guests apparently returning from a tour. Rebekah angled her gaze to watch as the wagon rolled past. Devlin enjoyed the brief view of her profile, her cheeks rounding with her smile, and then she faced forward again. If her father refused to allow her to accompany him for the afternoon, he wouldn't get to enjoy her smile again until Monday.

“Get up there, Marey.” He bounced his heels against the horse's flanks and brought her alongside Rebekah's horse. Close enough that he could reach out and stroke Jinx's neck. But if he reached out, it would be to take Rebekah's hand instead.

She didn't turn her head, but her eyes darted in his direction, and a slight grin lifted the corners of her lips. With the sun shimmering on her dark hair and bringing out the gold flecks in her brown eyes, she was almost too pretty to be real.

Devlin swallowed. “Tell me about your family.”

She sent a startled look in his direction, as if she'd expected him to say something else. But then she laughed, the sound airy and carefree. “Are you worrying about what Daddy will say when I ask to take you around to the neighbors?”

“Dreading a refusal, perhaps, but not worrying. No, I'm curious. Tolly told me you're working at the cave to help your family. That's very noble of you.”

Her brow pinched. “Not noble. Something I have to do.”

“They're forcing you?”

She frowned at him. “No. My daddy let me choose.”

“Then why—”

“Never mind about that.” She lifted her chin slightly and aimed her gaze forward. “You asked about my family. There's me, of course, and Daddy and Mama—Festus and Nell Hardin. Then there's Cissy, Della, Jessie, Tabitha, Trudy, and Little Nellie. I'm the oldest.”

Strangely, no joy lit her face as she listed her family members. He whistled through his teeth. “That's quite a list. And all girls?”

She offered a stiff nod.

Her distant behavior troubled him. He affected a lighthearted tone in the hopes of chasing away her stiltedness. “I can't imagine being part of such a large family. At my house, it's my parents and me.”

“All by yourself all the time?” She didn't look at him, but her lips formed a slight sympathetic pout. “How…lonely.”

He'd never considered it so when he was a boy basking in his parents' full attention, but in that moment he rued his solitary childhood. “Will I meet all your family today?”

“I imagine so. And it'll be soon, because this is my lane.” She tugged Jinx's reins, and Marey automatically trailed the other horse up a narrow, curving, rutted trail with thick aspens, pines, and scrubby oaks crowding in on both sides. The trail opened into a grassy clearing enclosed by a rugged fence formed of split timber. A log house with a full front porch, tin roof, and open shutters waited at the top of a low rise.

Rebekah drew Jinx to a stop next to the fence and slid down. She looped the reins over the top rail, removed the small sack from the saddle horn, and then ducked under the horse's neck. She offered Devlin a shy smile. “This's it. Come on in.”

Rebekah

It seemed strange to have Devlin follow her across a sunlit yard instead of through dark cave tunnels, yet she liked having him so near. Her heart thudded beneath the bodice of her dress. What would Daddy and Mama think of him? His strange clothes—she'd never seen men's britches shaped like a pair of chicken drumsticks—might make them raise their eyebrows. But Tolly had called him a gentleman, and she agreed. Hopefully her folks would look past what he wore to his insides.

Because Rebekah liked his insides a lot. Probably more than she should.

She called for her mama as she stepped through the open door, but the cabin was empty. She tossed her sack of clothes for her overnight stay on the table and quirked her finger at Devlin. “They must all be outside. This way.”

The back door also stood open, and as she approached it she heard Mama chiding Trudy to mind where she aimed the hoe's blade. Rebekah stepped into the backyard and spotted her mother and the three youngest girls in their large garden plot. Daddy and the older ones were nowhere in sight.

“Mama!”

Her mother was kneeling, working the dirt the way she worked bread dough. Her face lifted, surprise in her eyes. “Rebekah? That you, gal?”

Little Nellie came running, arms outstretched, but she stopped when Devlin stepped from the cabin. She changed directions and darted behind Mama, peeking out with her thumb in her mouth. Tabitha and Trudy paused in chopping at the dirt clods and stared, too, their mouths hanging open.

Rebekah cringed. Devlin probably thought they'd never seen a stranger before. But then, how many strangers came around? Especially strangers wearing squashed-flat caps, funny-shaped pants, and black shiny boots that went all the way up to their knees. To Little Nellie, he probably looked like a character from one of the fairy-tale books she read at nighttime.

She gestured Devlin forward and tried to pretend she brought people home every week to visit the family. “Mama, I'd like you to meet Devlin Bale from the University of Kentucky. He's a cartographer, and he's spending the summer at the estate to make a new map of the cave. Mr. Bale, this is my mama, Nell Hardin.”

Mama stood, wiping her hands on her apron, and stepped out of the garden. Her bare feet were filthy, her skirt smudged from the rich soil. Hair straggled across her cheek, and when she pushed it aside she left a smear of dirt behind. If she knew how bedraggled she looked, she'd probably try to hide like Little Nellie. But she nodded politely. “Hello, Mr. Bale.”

“Call me Devlin.” He bounced his smile from Mama to the little girls. “And who are you?”

Tabitha bounded forward like an eager puppy. “I'm Tabitha. That there's Trudy, an' that one with her face in Mama's skirt is Little Nellie. She's the baby.” She crinkled her nose, looking Devlin up and down. “How come your britches—”

Rebekah slung her arm around Tabitha's shoulders and pulled her sister tight to her side. “Tabby, why don't you and Trudy get back to the garden? See if you can get a whole row chopped and ready for seeds by the time we're done talking.”

“All right.” Tabitha grabbed Trudy by the hand and darted off. Little Nellie peeled herself away from Mama and toddled after them.

Rebekah blew out an airy breath of relief and faced Mama. “Mr. Bale wants to meet the folks who live around the cave, but since he isn't familiar with the back roads, he needs someone to take him. Would it be all right if I…escorted him?”

Mama fiddled with her apron, turning the skirt into a wad and then flapping it. “Just you two?”

Rebekah nodded.

Mama slowly shook her head. “That ain't wise, gal.” She jerked her gaze to Devlin. “No offense. Got nothin' to do with you. We wouldn't let Rebekah traipse off into the hills by herself with any fella, not even Cal Adwell, an' we've known him his whole life. It ain't…seemly.”

Devlin locked his hands behind his back and gave a nod. “I understand.”

Rebekah didn't dare look at him. If she saw regret—or worse, indifference—she'd dissolve on the spot.

Mama turned to Rebekah again. “But if he's wantin' to meet folks 'round here, take him to the field an' let him meet your daddy. Della an' Jessie're there, too.”

“Not Cissy?”

“Cissy left just a bit ago, takin' a basket o' mushrooms to the cook at the estate. She's gonna finish the housework when she gets back.” Mama began reversing slowly, still worrying the apron. “Nice to meetcha, young man.” She hurried to the garden.

Rebekah pointed to the break in the trees between the outhouse and the chicken house. “The field's this way. That is, if you still want to meet my daddy.” After the skittish way Mama acted—and why had she mentioned Cal Adwell?—she wouldn't blame Devlin if he climbed up on Marey's back and took off.

“Of course I would.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.” His smile warmed her more than the bright sun.

She quirked her finger. “Follow me.”

The path to the meadow that Great-Granddaddy had turned under to plant tobacco seventy-five years earlier had never seemed shorter. After Devlin and Daddy met, she'd have to send Devlin off by himself. So she took her time, pointing out wildflowers and a squirrel den and the creek that provided her family's water supply. Not once did Devlin make fun or act bored, which made it even harder to think about cutting short her time with him.

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