Authors: Karen Kirst
Unceasing rain thundered against the roof. Gusts of wind rammed into the walls.
She hugged her Bible to her chest and prayed. She’d never lived through a tornado and so didn’t know what to expect. What if one raged outside her door? What would she do? Where would she go?
The door flew open then, slamming back against the wall. Kate screamed.
Josh stood on the porch, water sluicing off his hat and poncho.
“The storm’s getting worse,” he shouted above the din. “Put your boots on. And a warm jacket. We’re gonna take cover.”
Spurred by the urgency in his voice, Kate did as she was told. While she didn’t relish the thought of venturing outside, she’d rather ride out the storm in Josh’s company than alone.
When she joined him on the porch, he reached past her to close the door.
“Ready?”
His concerned gaze searched hers, and it took all her willpower not to throw herself in his arms.
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she told him.
“Let’s go then.”
Her hand tucked safely in his, they hurried down the steps and dashed across the yard. Soaked to the skin in the space of a minute, she regretted not taking a hat to shield her face. The rain pelted her tender skin. The wind whipped her dripping hair in her eyes.
As soon as they reached the orchard, Kate realized their destination. The apple house.
She wanted to rail at him for his insensitivity! How dare he bring her
here
of all places?
Surely he hadn’t forgotten her fear of dark, cramped spaces!
Shoving open the door, he put an insistent hand against her lower back, silently urging her inside.
Kate resisted, digging her heels in the wet soil. The sound of her heart roaring in her chest drowned out his words and the storm raging all around them. She would not,
could
not go in there.
Josh noticed at once the change that came over her. All color drained from her face, and she raised stricken eyes to his.
“I can’t!” Terror radiated off her in waves. “I’m going back to the cabin!”
Thunderclouds roiled like boiling soup directly above their heads. Caught in the storm’s fury, tree limbs thrashed wildly about. Tornados weren’t a common occurrence in these parts, but he didn’t want to chance being out in the open. And her cabin was surrounded by trees that could potentially be uprooted.
As much as he hated to cause her distress, he had to put her safety first.
“This is our best shelter,” he said as he urged her forward. “I’ll light one of the oil lamps before I close the door. You’ll see—there will be plenty of light.”
Her fingers dug into his arm, her expression begging him to find another alternative.
“You don’t understand!” Her voice was high and shrill. “I’d rather be anywhere else! I’d rather stay right here than go in there.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. This is our only choice.” He hated to see her so upset, but what other option did he have?
An abandoned milk pail flew past their heads, missing them by mere inches. That settled it.
Snaking his arm around her waist, he propelled her inside. He had the door shut before she had time to resist.
There were no windows here. The darkness inside the low, squat building was complete. He couldn’t make out her shape.
“Josh, no!” She gasped and lunged past him in a desperate bid for the door.
Stunned by her response, it took a split second for him to react. He darted forward and hauled her back against him, hugging her trembling body close.
“Hey,” he murmured against her ear, “it’s all right. You’re safe here.”
Something was terribly wrong. This was no ordinary fear of the dark. Josh determined right then and there he was going to find out the reason behind it. But first he had to calm her down.
“Let me go!”
Struggling against his hold, she attempted to pry his arms away, her fingernails scraping his skin. He held firm. She was crying in earnest now. The pitiful sound broke his heart.
“Kate, my love,” he said as he pressed his face close to hers. “Remember my promise? You’re safe with me. Remember? Safe.”
He continued to murmur words of encouragement while praying furiously for help from the Almighty above. Gradually she ceased struggling, her sobs abating to hitched breaths.
She was silent for an eternity, the sound of their ragged breaths loud in the enclosed space.
“Kate?”
“Y-yes?”
“I’m going to light a lamp, okay?”
It seemed like a lifetime in coming, but at last she jerked a nod.
When he eased his arms from around her, he didn’t move away until he was certain she wasn’t going to bolt again. Or slide to the floor in a heap.
Jaw clenched tight enough to crack his teeth, he crouched low and swung his hand in a wide arc in search of the lamp he’d brought. His fingers brushed the glass and it toppled beyond his reach.
“Don’t move, okay? I’m gonna open the door so I can see to light the lamp.”
He could hear nothing but the wind howling outside.
“Kate?”
“O-okay.”
Scuffing his boots along the dirt, he moved forward until he encountered the door. He eased it open. Caught up by the violent wind, leaves swirled in funnels about the yard. The chickens squawked in the confines of their house.
He’d lost precious time rounding up the skittish animals and securing the barn doors. But everyone else was gone, so it fell to him to do it alone.
Lord, please spare us. And the farm, too. Protect my family.
Working quickly, he located the lamp and fished the match out of his pocket. His fingers shook when he tried to light the wick. He grimaced. He must’ve transferred all his calm to Kate and in turn assumed her nervousness.
The wick flared to life, casting a golden glow in a wide circle. Setting it in the dirt near Kate’s feet, he sucked in a deep breath. “I’m going to close the door. Is this enough light?”
She kept her face averted. “I think so.”
He hurried to do the task, getting a face full of rain as the wind changed direction. He slipped off his hat and poncho, hanging them from a nail protruding from the shelf on the wall, then turned to stare at her bedraggled form.
“You’re soaked. Would it help to take off your jacket?”
After a moment’s thought, she undid the buttons and slipped it off. Her fingers were like ice when they brushed against his. Hanging her jacket on top of his poncho, he returned to her side. She rubbed her arms in an effort to get warm.
Uncertain as to what to do to comfort her, he sat down on the low bench. “Come sit with me. I’ll warm you.”
When she lifted her head, Josh nearly gasped at the pain and vulnerability in her expression. “I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Her gaze slipped to the floor. “Never mind.”
“Kate, please.” He needed to comfort her as much as he needed to be comforted. Her outburst had rattled him as nothing else ever had.
With hesitant steps, she came and sat a good six inches away, her back ramrod straight. Feeling like a youth, he curled his arm around her shoulders and scooted in close.
“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you want,” he said.
About five minutes passed before he felt her relax, her head shifting against him. He recognized it as a small victory. They sat together listening to the storm rage over their heads.
When he could stand the silence no longer, he voiced the question on the tip of his tongue. His fingertips lazily stroked her arm. “What happened to make you fear the dark?”
“It was a long time ago,” she said haltingly, her muscles tensing up again. “I haven’t told anyone. Ever.”
“Talking about it may lessen the power it has over you.”
She lifted her head but didn’t move away. “Or it could make the nightmares worse.”
His fingers stilled. His own body tensed. Whatever had happened, it was going to be hard to hear.
“My parents traveled quite frequently when we were young. We were left in the care of nannies and, as we got older, governesses. The spring I turned six, Mother hired Nanny Marie.”
Her voice dipped so that he had to strain to hear her. “She was an angry woman. I never could figure out what I’d done to make her angry…”
Josh steeled himself, dreading her next words, yet knowing she needed to find release.
Her features twisted in hurt bewilderment. “Nearly every day for six months, she locked me in the supply closet. Left me there for hours in the dark. Common, everyday items took on a life of their own. From an adult’s perspective, there was nothing in there that could’ve hurt me, but for a small child—” She broke off, shivering.
Rage burned in his gut at the vicious stranger who’d done this. Ruthlessly he pushed it down to deal with later. Kate had her hands full coping with her own emotions. She didn’t need to deal with his, too.
“Did your parents prosecute this woman?”
“They never knew what happened. She resigned her position without warning, and we never heard from her again.”
“You didn’t tell them because she threatened you.”
Releasing a shaky breath, she jerked a nod.
“All these years you’ve shouldered this burden alone. No more.” He pulled her close, stroking her damp hair when she relaxed against him. “May I pray for you?”
“I’d like that.”
“Lord Jesus, I ask You to heal Kate’s wounds, the secret hurts she holds inside only You can see. Release her from the fear that binds her. In Christ’s name, Amen.”
Swiping at her eyes, she straightened. “Thank you, Josh.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s the first time anyone has prayed for me besides Danielle, my friend who showed me how to follow Christ. It means a lot to me.”
His heart aching for what she’d endured, he covered her slender hand with his. “I hate that you were forced to suffer in that way. The nanny should’ve been sent to prison for what she did to you—an innocent child. If I could, I’d gladly wipe away every memory that torments you.”
I’d kiss away each nightmare, the pure beauty of our love chasing away every shadow until no darkness remained
.
Love? No, that was too strong a word. He cared deeply for Kate, but that wasn’t the same as loving her. Or was it?
“I wish you could,” she whispered mournfully.
Caressing her cheek, he murmured, “I can help you make new memories. Happy ones.”
She encircled his wrist and leaned her cheek into his palm. Her black lashes fluttered down to rest against the translucent skin beneath her eyes.
Tenderness flooded him. He longed to take her into his arms and kiss her, but aware of her vulnerable state of mind, he held back.
Impatient pounding on the door broke them apart. Josh bolted to his feet.
The door flung open. “Josh? You in there?”
Striding the length of the space, his heart jerked at the lines of anxiety in Nathan’s face. Behind him, the sky had lightened and the rain had abated. “I’m here. Kate, too.”
“Come quick! Ma’s been in an accident.”
Chapter Sixteen
F
ear flashed across Josh’s face. He quickly masked it with grim determination. Their conversation forgotten, worry for Mary’s well-being gnawed at Kate’s insides. How bad was it? Would Mary be all right?
“I want to go with you,” she said.
Eyes dark with worry, he held out his hand and she took it, relieved to be out of the dark, damp structure. Already the clouds were dispersing. Thunder rolled in the distance. Water dripped from the leaves and roof edges, pitter-pattering onto the soggy earth.
They sprinted to the front of the house, where Nathan had left the wagon, mud splattering the men’s pants legs and the hem of Kate’s dress. Josh lifted her with ease onto the seat and jumped up beside her. Nathan climbed up on the other side and, seizing the reins, ordered the horses forward.
The ride into town was a tense one. No one uttered a word. Kate waited for Josh to ask what had happened and what injuries Mary had sustained, but his jaw remained clenched in silence. Reaching over, she clasped his hand. His fingers gripped hers as if they were a lifeline.
He’d be devastated if… No, she stopped her mind from wandering down that path. It was too painful. Kate had grown to care a great deal for the kind, generous, loving woman. She hated to think of her in pain.
For everyone’s sakes, she prayed for a positive outcome.
The lane was littered with leaves and branches snapped off by the storm. In town, the post office window was broken, and the barbershop’s wooden sign was gone.
She prayed no one else had been injured.
At last they reached the doctor’s home, which doubled as an office, located at the edge of town. A hand at the small of her back, Josh ushered her inside. Nathan brought up the rear.
Sam looked up from his pacing, his features softening with relief at the sight of his sons.
“How is she, Pa?”
The older man’s cheek was bruised and there was a scratch on his chin, but otherwise he appeared to be fine. “Doc Owens is checking her now, but he’s fairly sure she has a broken leg.”
“What happened?”
“We got caught out in the storm. The horses spooked, and the wagon overturned.”
Kate gaze wandered past the three men. That’s when she noticed Caleb sitting in one of the parlor chairs, his head in his hands. His posture spoke of utter defeat. Despite the uneasiness he inspired in her, Kate’s heart went out to him. He was obviously hurting.
Gathering her courage, she went and sat in the chair next to him. He didn’t look up or acknowledge her in any way.
“Are you all right?”
“Go away.”
The words were spoken without malice. In fact, she wondered at his complete lack of emotion.
“Were you with your parents when it happened?”
He was silent, utterly still for so long she assumed he’d drifted off to sleep. When he finally spoke, his words took her by surprise.
“It’s my fault.”
“I don’t understand.”
His head whipped up, his eyes spearing hers. Raw grief and bitterness burned in the dark depths. “I was leading the team when the accident happened. I couldn’t control them. I’m the reason Ma is lying in there hurt.”
“No, son.” Sam must’ve overheard Caleb’s remarks. He came and settled a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “You’re not to blame. The outcome would’ve been the same if one of your brothers or I had been holding the reins.”
“You’re wrong.” Shaking off his father’s touch, Caleb lunged to his feet and stalked outside, the door slamming behind him.
Sam’s shoulders slumped. Nathan came up behind him, his expression sad. “Don’t worry, Pa. I’ll talk to him.”
When he’d left, Josh crossed to the hutch where a tray was arranged with a pitcher and empty glasses. He filled one with water and handed it to his father.
“Thanks,” he said absently, his gaze glued to the closed door at the end of the hall.
Josh crouched down beside Kate, balancing himself with a hand on the chair’s arm. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.”
When the door opened and the doctor emerged, both father and son advanced on him.
“How is she?” Sam spoke first.
“As far as I can tell, her only injury, other than minor scrapes and bruises, is a broken leg. She doesn’t appear to have any internal injuries, but I’d like to keep her overnight just for observation.”
“I want to see her.”
“Certainly.” He nodded at Sam. “One visitor at a time, though. I’ve given her some laudanum for pain and she’s drowsy.”
While Sam went to see his wife, Josh asked the doctor more questions. Nathan returned without Caleb, which didn’t surprise Kate. He’d been extremely upset, feeling the weight of misplaced guilt.
While she was relieved that Mary would be okay, she couldn’t help worrying about the youngest O’Malley. Perhaps Josh would seek him out later. Make him see reason.
Once Josh and Nathan had peeked in on their mother and seen for themselves that she was all right, it was decided that Sam would stay the night. Back at the house, the threesome ate a simple supper of sandwiches and warmed-up soup from the day before. Lost in their own thoughts, it was a quiet meal.
The exhaustion on Josh’s face mirrored how Kate felt—emotionally and physically drained.
Lying in bed not long after, Kate tossed and turned in the dim light, her mind buzzing with all that had occurred that day.
The storm. Mary’s accident. The scene in the apple house.
Josh had been incredibly tender and understanding. Recalling how he’d held her, calmed her,
prayed
for her, tears spilled over onto her pillow.
It had been difficult, divulging her childhood secret. Now there were only three people on this earth who knew—Nanny Marie, Kate herself and Josh. He’d been right. Somehow, sharing that horrifying piece of her past with him had eased the grip it had on her.
But what of your other secret? His reaction to that would be drastically different, I’d guess.
A chill gripped her heart. Curled on her side beneath the covers, her skin was warm but her insides suddenly felt encased in ice.
He couldn’t find out.
Don’t worry. Josh hasn’t professed his love to you. And he certainly isn’t going to propose to you.
He may not have come right out and said it, but he believed she belonged in New York, not Gatlinburg. There would never be a reason to tell him.
The moment Kate opened her eyes, she knew she’d slept considerably past her usual wake-up time. Blowing out an exasperated breath, she slipped out of bed and dressed as quickly as she could in a serviceable black skirt, the plainest one in her wardrobe, and a burgundy blouse. Not bothering with jewelry, she captured her thick waves in a simple bun at the base of her head and slipped her black boots on over her stockings.
She’d planned to cook breakfast for the men this morning. Too late for that.
Crossing to the main house, she noticed downed tree limbs scattered across the yard. Yesterday’s fierce winds had stripped a number of trees of their leaves. The air was clean and crisp this morning, the sky stretching a grayish-white above her—a reminder that winter hovered around the corner.
She knocked on the front door and waited, her stomach protesting the long hours since her last meal. Goose bumps racing along her skin, she anticipated a steaming cup of tea.
Josh opened the door, his gaze warming when he saw her. “Mornin’, sleepyhead. Come in.”
Closing the door behind her, he remarked, “You don’t have to knock, ya know. Feel free to come and go as you please. You’re not a visitor anymore.”
“I hadn’t planned on sleeping in.”
He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Nathan left about an hour ago to check on Ma.”
“You didn’t stay behind on my account, did you?”
“I didn’t want to leave you here alone.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he rushed ahead. “Besides, there’s not much I can do there anyway. Aunt Alice and Megan are there, too. I’m sure Doc doesn’t want his office overrun with visitors.”
“But—”
He stepped close and pressed his finger to her lips. “Shh.” His blue eyes darkened with emotion. He dropped his hand but didn’t move away, his broad shoulders filling her vision. “How did you sleep?”
“Better than I have in a long time.” For the first time in weeks, she’d slept a dreamless sleep.
“No nightmares?”
“No.”
“I’m glad.” Looking pleased, he nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “How do biscuits with apple butter sound? I’ll even throw in a cup of your favorite tea.”
Since her arrival, Kate had grown to love Mary’s fluffy “cathead” biscuits, so called because of their size. The biscuits, with their light-as-air layers of pure delight, slathered with butter and jam, were now her breakfast of choice.
In the kitchen, she stood off to the side while he stoked up the fire in the cookstove and set the kettle on to boil. She’d seen both Josh and Nathan in action in here. They seemed capable and completely at ease doing what was considered women’s work.
“Do you think your mother will be able to come home today?”
“I sure hope so.”
As he arranged the tea service, Kate studied his hands. Strong and tanned, his lean fingers handled the delicate china with care. She knew from experience the tenderness those hands possessed.
He frowned. “Our biggest challenge is going to be keeping her from doing too much, too soon. She’s used to taking care of all of us. I’m not sure how she’s going to handle being on the receiving end.”
“I can help with that. I’ve decided to hold off on my travel arrangements.”
“You’re staying?” Hope lit up his features.
“Only until Mary is back on her feet.” She looked away. “Starting with today’s lunch, I’m taking over kitchen duty.”
“Is that a fact?” One brow quirked up, mocking her, as he folded his arms across his chest.
“I do know how to cook.”
“So you said. I’m just having a hard time believing it.”
“Believe it. Immediately after breakfast, I’d like for you to bring me a chicken.”
He dipped his head in mock seriousness. “Of course.”
Kate wasn’t surprised at his reaction. Josh saw her as a pampered, helpless heiress. Let him laugh. He would soon see that he was wrong about her.
Josh bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he deposited the squawking chicken on the floor. Looking domestic with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and one of Ma’s aprons tied about her waist, Kate stood at the dry sink peeling carrots.
Her fine brows shot up to meet her hairline. “What is
that?
”
“You mean you don’t know?”
She edged backward as the hen strutted closer. “Of course I do! But what is it doing in here?”
“You asked for a chicken. I delivered.”
She planted her fist on one hip. “I meant a slaughtered one, and you know it.”
He smiled at the undisguised tremor of laughter in her voice. Wayward tendrils had slipped free of her loose knot to frame her face, her cheeks tinged pink from the warmth of the cookstove heating the kitchen. Her rose-petal lips beckoned him to discover their soft fullness. It seemed like a lifetime since he’d sampled their sweet promise.
She looked completely at home in Ma’s kitchen. He didn’t want to think how much he’d miss her once she left. They likely wouldn’t cross paths again. Trips to New York didn’t happen every day.
Should he try to convince her to stay? What would that mean for his business plans? More importantly, what would that mean for his personal life?
Having Kate around wouldn’t be easy. Not only was he attracted to her, he cared about her. How would he find it in him to resist falling in love with her?
There were plenty of questions banging around in his mind, but few answers. Heading outside with the bird, he wondered when and if his life would ever go back to normal.
When Josh slapped the headless bird on the counter, Kate attempted to keep her expression blank. She’d never prepared an animal for cooking, but she’d seen it done many times. It couldn’t be
that
difficult.
He stood near the back door, a silly grin on his face. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and she could almost read his thoughts.
Let’s see how the heiress handles this one.
She squared her shoulders, not about to let him guess at her uncertainty. He’d argued that she couldn’t make it on her own. He was about to see how wrong he’d been.
“Don’t you have a project to work on?”
“Nope.” His grin widened, his even, white teeth flashing.
He apparently had every intention of watching her prepare lunch.
“What would you normally be doing right now?”
He shrugged. “Reading. Fishing. Playing chess.”
“How about you go read something then?”
“I can help, you know. I have lots of experience. Despite Pa’s objections, Ma taught us how to cook more than the basic eggs and flapjacks. Her reasoning was simple—you can’t always count on a wife to cook. After a baby comes, for instance.”