Where Love Runs Free (Tales from the Upcountry) (8 page)

“Well, I’ll be,” Jessie said, leaning against the porch
railing and squinting at someone galloping across the open field toward
Fairington. “That’s Ben—and Isabella Richardson.”

Angelina stood from the porch rocker and watched Ben ride
toward them on Mighty Wind, pulling a gray mare close behind. Isabella sat in
his lap with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Her head lay on his
shoulder with one of her ankles bandaged and bouncing up and down with each
stride of the horse.
What in the world?
A twinge of betrayal zipped
through Angelina at seeing him with another woman.

Tom stepped toward the porch and wiped his brow with a blue
bandana he kept in his back pocket. “Looks like she’s hurt. Must’ve had a
fall.”

“I’ll bet,” Angelina said under her breath as her eyes
narrowed, noticing how Isabella’s face brushed up next to Ben’s neck. “Knowing
her, she probably fell on purpose.”

“Angelina!” Jessie exclaimed.

“Well it’s true. She’ll do about anything to get Ben’s
attention.”

“That’s mean and hateful, and anyway, why would you care?”
Jessie said. “Engaged women aren’t supposed to be thinking about what other men
do—other than their betrothed.”

Angelina ignored this comment and squinted, watching Ben and
Isabella approach. “I don’t know what she’s up to,” she murmured, “but I guess
you better let Ella know we’re gonna have company for lunch—and maybe dinner
too. And I reckon we oughta get the guest room ready so she can rest till Isaac
can get over here and fetch her.”

She followed Tom out to the field to meet Ben and take
charge of the horses. Tom grabbed hold of Mighty Wind’s bridle while Billy
scampered out from the stable and untethered Isabella’s mare. “We’ve got a
sprained ankle,” Ben said. “Horse got spooked by a mountain lion.” He
gracefully slid off the stallion’s back, cradling Isabella in his arms.

“Mountain lion?” Angelina asked. “During broad daylight?”

“Pitch black and mean.” Ben ignored her as he made his way
to the house with Isabella burying her face in his shoulder. “She’s frightened
out of her wits, but she’ll be all right. Could’ve been a lot worse.”

“Take her into the parlor,” Angelina said, opening the
kitchen door for Ben. She followed him as he trudged through the house, feeling
her stomach drop at the way he placed Isabella’s limp body on the settee like
an injured lamb.

Jessie spread a cotton blanket over her bandaged ankle and
stuffed a feather pillow under her head. “Poor thing. Is she gonna be all right
you think?”

“She’ll be fine,” Angelina answered, surveying Isabella with
a suspicious eye.

“Ella’s fixing her a cup of tea, and then I guess we oughta get
one of the boys to ride over to Middleton and get Isaac.”

“No need to do that,” Ben said, giving Jessie a nod. “I say
we let her rest a while, then I’ll get her and the mare home safe.”

“That won’t be necessary—”

“Maybe not,” Ben snapped, cutting Angelina off. “But I wanna
see her home.” He stared into her eyes, and she could see the hurt rising to
the surface. He was still angry from last night.

Ella bustled into the parlor with a tea tray loaded down
with a steaming cup of lemon tea and a roll of cool, wet rags. “Lord, look at
this child—almost eaten up by a mountain lion. Who woulda thought such a
thing?” She set the tray down on the tea table and proceeded to dab Isabella’s
hot forehead with one of the moist cloths. “Oh, Mr. Ben, bless your heart. The
Good Lord sure knew what He was doin’ when He sent you to us, fightin’ off a
wild animal like that. I’m gonna fix you the best dinner you ever ate tonight,
you hear?” She gave him an admiring look and chattered on, “Roast beef cooked
in pot liquor, new potatoes in butter and chives, and some of my fresh collard
greens cooked in ham hocks. And you like corn bread?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, feeling a grin creep across his
face. “I like anything you’ve cooked up.”

“Well good, ’cause no one else is gonna eat a bite till you
say so. You can have all of it.” She pointed a finger at Angelina, trumping any
other instruction. “And I mean
all.
You can stuff yourself like an ole
pig.” Then turning back to Isabella, she plumped up her pillow and squeezed a
bit of lemon in the china tea cup. “There child,” she cooed, patting Isabella’s
hand. “You don’t worry your pretty little head ’bout an old night cougar, like my
daddy used to call ’em. You’re good and safe now, and the Good Lord’s gonna
take extra, special care of you, ’cause I’m gonna be prayin’ for you, night and
day.”

“That’s right, Isabella,” Jessie said.

“All of us are.” Ella glanced at Angelina and poked her leg
with the toe of her shoe, getting her attention.

“That’s right,” Angelina lied. “Night and day.” She forced a
smile in Ben’s direction, but he just looked away and gazed at Isabella.

“Thank you, Mr. Eagle-Smith,” Isabella whispered. “Thank you
for all you did.” Her voice sounded dry and parched, like she had been stranded
in the desert for days.

“Ben,” he said. “Call me Ben. And it was my pleasure.”

Angelina bit her lip, suddenly feeling the urge to smack him
hard for the way he was looking at Isabella right now. She resembled a china
doll, perfect and flawless in every way, even down to the filed fingernails on
the soft, pale hands. Instinctively, Angelina clenched her fists and hid her
hands behind her back. Her fingernails were dirty from spending time with the
horses, and her palms were calloused about as bad as Tom’s in some places.
Suddenly, she felt haggard and “worn out” as she had heard her mama say,
whereas Isabella seemed fresh, like a piece of fully ripened fruit.

“I guess I oughta get back to Mighty Wind,” Ben said. “I’ll
be back later on today.”

 “Yes, let her rest,” Ella said, leading him toward the door.
“You can come on back before supper.”

Angelina ignored Ella’s glare and followed Ben outside,
taking long strides to catch up with him. “Ben?” She grabbed his arm, but he
slung it away and made his way toward the stable. “Ben!” Her blood boiled at
him ignoring her like this. “You trying to make me jealous, is that it? You’d
think you could pick someone better than Isabella Richardson!” Still, he
refused to turn around. She followed and grabbed his arm again, and this time
he stopped. “You won’t even look at me when I call your name?”

He finally turned and stared her in the eye. “You wouldn’t
answer me last night. Not in front of
him
.”

“I need time, don’t you understand? You said you’d wait.”

“No,” he said, his words sharp and penetrating. “I won’t
wait for you to do to me what your mama did to Tom.”

“I’d never do that to you. I told him I’m not going to marry
him. Isn’t that enough?” Ben stared at her with a hard look, and she knew what
he was thinking—he wanted far more than what she could give him right now. “Ben.”
She touched his arm, which felt strong and firm under the cotton shirt.
Suddenly, his eyes softened, revealing the tenderness from last night. “You
really think all I care about is money and this farm?”

“No,” he said, his voice filled with sadness. “You care
about something else.” She moved into his arms, wanting to feel his lips on
hers, but instead, his mouth brushed against her ear and he whispered, “The
Raeford name.”

 “No,” she murmured, speaking into his shirt, feeling the
shame of accusation wash over her.

“What’re you gonna do when I win that race? What then?” His
eyes blazed with condemnation and judgment. “You think I’ll be good enough
then? Will I ever be good enough?”

“That isn’t fair.”

“May be. But it’s the truth.”

“It’s not. It’s not true.” His eyes glistened with emotion, indicating
that he wanted to believe her, but something was holding him back. “Listen to
me,” she pleaded. “When you win, I’m gonna help you sell that land of yours for
a pretty penny.”

“No, Angelina.” Anger flashed through his expression, and he
pushed her away.

“I heard some of the men from town talking about it the
other night,” she said, following close behind as he made his way to the barn.
“It’s worth a bundle, even though Edward hasn’t done a thing with it. Then you
can come live here and be my foreman, take over when Tom retires. I know how
much you love Fairington. We could make this into the biggest, best horse farm
in the whole state.”

 “I’ll never sell. Never.” He stared her down as his teeth
sawed against each other, frightening her more than ever. “That’s my home, and
it’s where I plan on building my life and living out my days—with or without
you.”

“You don’t mean that.” She stared into his eyes, pleading
with his soul, but there was a hardness that she couldn’t penetrate. “Please,
Ben.” She leaned against him, and he pulled her into his arms, wrapping his
power and strength around her waist and drawing her into that flow of anger
that swam behind his eyes. Something in his expression changed, and his face
moved toward hers. She closed her eyes and relaxed in his embrace, feeling hope
rise in her heart as his breath caressed her lips—but then suddenly, he
released her.

“No,” he said. The hard look was back, and so was his cold
demeanor. “This belongs to you.” He reached into his trouser pocket, pulled out
the arrowhead, and dropped it into her palm. “Take it and hide it in your tree.
That’s where it belongs, same as how you’ve treated our love—a secret, an
embarrassment that no one else knows about. Like it’s some secret sin that’s
done in the dark. Well, I won’t be hidden away, Angelina. I won’t take a job as
your foreman and love you in secret, waiting for the day when I become worthy
in your eyes. Even if I have to give you up, even if my heart breaks in two—”
He adjusted his Stetson and kicked the dirt with his boot, swallowing the
emotions that thickened in his throat. “Marry Edward and his money if you want,
be his wife and live this life that you’ve got planned for yourself. But be
honest with him, and me. He may be a liar, but he’s got one thing right—all you
really care about is this farm and your family name. Same as what your daddy
and mama thought. It’s the same ole thing. Comes down to money and the color of
our skin.”

He walked away, and it was as though she had been kicked in
the stomach—not because his words were a lie, but because, somehow, she knew
they were true. He and Edward were right—Fairington and her daddy’s legacy were
foremost on her mind, and shouldn’t they be? Did he really expect her to give
all of that up and marry a penniless Cherokee trainer with nothing to offer her
except childhood memories and words of affection? What would people think of
her then? What would people say?

Her mind agreed, but something tugged at Angelina’s heart as
she watched his ponytail sway back and forth across his back, telling her to
repent and change before it was too late.
Go to him. Run to him
, it
seemed to say.

“No, Lord. No,” she whispered, gulping down a sob.

Not yet.

Tom worked Ben and Mighty Wind all morning, which included racing
along the fields and down the dirt paths that led to some of the neighboring
farms. By lunch time, Mighty Wind was tuckered out, and so was Ben. He had
Billy brush down the horse and covered it with a blanket so the sweat wouldn’t
cause a chill. The final reward was a trough of hay and a bucket of water.
“We’ll take a run tonight, how’s that?” Ben whispered in Mighty Wind’s ear,
patting it on its neck. “And maybe I’ll bring you a treat.” The stallion
stomped its front hoof and swished its tail, continuing to chew.

Ben made his way to the main house, hoping to get a quick
bite before Angelina and the other trainers sat down to eat. Through the corner
of his eye, he watched her gallop Eagle’s Wing through the field while Mitchell
rode on Captain’s Galley. It pained him to see at her, knowing the division
between them. He pulled his Stetson down low over his brow to block his view.
Maybe if he didn’t look her way or hear her voice, he could bear the rejection.
He could eat his meals in the bunkhouse and ride after supper and in the early
morning. And he could spend his afternoons tending to Mighty Wind when she was
off with the other Fairington horses.

He bounded up the porch steps, mulling over this plan, when
the smell of stewed beef and potatoes hit his nostrils. “Come on in, Mr. Ben.”
Ella wiped her hands on a dish towel and held the door open for him. “Sit
yourself on down and get a plate.”

“All right, maybe I will,” he said, feeling his stomach
growl. “But I’ll have to make it quick.” He removed his hat and wiped his boots
on the doormat. “Got a lot of work to do, then wanted to check in on Miss
Richardson.”

“Well, she’s sittin’ here at the table.”

Ben stepped into the kitchen and nodded toward Isabella. “Oh,
hello,” she said, her cheeks blooming a soft pink.

“Hello,” he replied, suddenly conscious of his dusty boots
and the sweat stains on his shirt. Usually, the women of Fairington took no
notice of horse smells on the trainers, but Isabella Richardson was entirely
different. She wore dresses and fancy jackets when she rode, and obviously
insisted on a sidesaddle. And from what he heard from Angelina, she wasn’t much
of a horsewoman in the first place, despite her father’s expertise.

“She’s doin’ fine now,” Ella offered, pulling out a chair
for Ben. “She and Miss Jessie had a good, long talk. Told her ’bout that time
when she was little and that bear cub came up here lookin’ for food, ’bout
scared the daylights outta me, her mama, and the whole bunch. But not Miss
Jessie. Miss Jessie never been ’fraid of nothin’.”

Ella placed a dish of stew in front of Isabella and smiled,
waiting for her to tuck in, but she just stared at it and scrunched up her
nose. “It sure smells good, Ella, but I don’t think I’m hungry now. All this
talk about bears and wild animals has taken my appetite away.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right. Here you go, Mr. Ben. You eat up while it’s
hot.”

He looked at the thick stew and envisioned the black
mountain lion lunging at Isabella’s horse, desiring to kill and eat. Suddenly,
Tom’s voice drifted in through the open window, calling to Billy about something,
and then Angelina answered to Mitchell. In a few minutes, the kitchen would be
full of dirty, dusty horse trainers—and Angelina. “Maybe Miss Richardson is
ready to go on home now,” Ben said. “How about I hitch up the buggy and take
you back to Middleton?”

“Oh, that would be nice, since I’m sure Daddy’ll be
wondering where I am. And Miranda. We were supposed to meet this afternoon and
share dress patterns.”

Angelina stomped inside and threw her riding gloves on the
table, bringing a thick silence into the room. Ben noticed that Edward’s ring
wasn’t on her finger. “Ella, you serving lunch early today?” Her eyes narrowed
at seeing Ben and Isabella sitting together.

“Naw. Just Mr. Ben havin’ a little stew and keepin’ Miss
Isabella company while I get the rest of it ready. Go on and sit down,” she
said, shooing Angelina into her seat at the head of the table. “Go on. No use
making a to-do over it.”

“I’m not making a to-do.”

Ben rose and put his hat on his head. “I was about to take
Miss Richardson home—”

“Please,” Isabella said, smiling at him, her eyelids
fluttering for a moment, “it’s Isabella. After what you did, saving my life, it
wouldn’t be right to have you calling my by some stuffy, formal name.”

Ben waited, feeling Angelina’s hot stare. “All right—Isabella,”
he said, liking the sound of her name on his lips. “I’d be obliged to drive you
home.”

“That’d be real nice,” Ella piped up, grinning at Angelina,
who remained stone-faced.

“Angelina, I do thank you for letting me rest here awhile
after what happened,” Isabella said, chirping like a little bird. “I’m so
embarrassed. I shouldn’t have been in the woods anyway. That mare has a mind of
her own. I’ve never been able to control her.”

“Yes, you were trespassing on Fairington land, you know,”
Angelina said, cutting her off in a way that sent an icy chill into the room.
“That mountain lion would’ve been the least of your worries if one of the boys had
mistaken you for something else—I don’t know what. Anyway, those woods are
tough terrain for a rider with no experience like you, riding on that silly
sidesaddle. I’ve made it my resolution that I’m not gonna trust any woman rider
who doesn’t have sense enough to swing her leg over a horse’s backside and ride
properly.” She flopped into a chair and smirked at Ben. He couldn’t help but notice
Isabella’s mouth turn down and her lip quiver.

“Miss Isabella, I’ve got a cherry pie in the ice box,” Ella
said. “How ’bout I go fetch it, then you can plop it right smack-dab in the
middle of Miss Angelina’s nose?”

“Ella!” Angelina scolded.

“If she won’t do it, then I’ll be glad to do the honors,”
Ben said, angry at Angelina’s childish behavior. Isabella was sweet and gentle
and didn’t deserve to be treated like a Fairington employee. “Isabella,” he
said, ignoring Angelina’s hard look, “I’ll be glad to teach you how to ride,
regular or sidesaddle. Whatever suits you.”

Her face beamed. “Oh, would you?”

“You don’t have time for that,” Angelina snapped.

“I’ve gotta couple of hours in the afternoon,” he said,
nodding to Isabella. “If that’ll do?”

“Yes, that’ll be wonderful. I’ve always wanted to ride like
Daddy, he’s just been too busy to teach me, and there wasn’t much chance of
learning in Charleston. School takes up so much time, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” Angelina said in a voice that was firm
and mean. She stood to her feet and stared Ben down. “It won’t do—it won’t a tall.”
Her eyes looked as deep and blue as a moving river. “You work for Fairington.
You work for me.”

“Miss Raeford, I told you on my first day here, I’m not one
of your
boys
, and I’m not your slave.” Ben could sense he was well
beyond the limits of what was acceptable behavior for a hired hand, but he
didn’t care. His mind lashed out, wanting to hurt her, even though his heart
told him to be careful, to forgive. “Now, I’m gonna take Isabella home, then
I’ll be back for supper.” He adjusted his Stetson on his head and slid his
chair under the table. “Ella, I thank you for the stew, but I’ll wait and fill
up later.”

“That’ll be fine.” Ella bumped Angelina with her elbow before
she could retaliate, warning her with a cross look to stay silent. Angelina’s
face flushed red with anger, but her lips remained pinched together. “There you
are, child,” Ella said with a cheery lilt in her voice. She handed Isabella a
hefty bundle wrapped in a large bandana. “Got some hot cornbread for your
daddy. I know how he likes it.”

“Thank you.” Isabella took the bundle and smiled at Ella before
frowning at Angelina’s sour expression. “Please tell Jessie I’ll see her soon.”

Ben scooted out the door and stood on the porch, lifting his
face into the brightness of the sun. After a few minutes, Isabella hobbled
alongside him, wearing her navy blue riding coat. Even with the injured ankle,
she looked lovely and refreshed, as though the incident with the mountain lion
had never happened. “Here, let me help you,” he said. Adjusting his hat, he
swept her into his arms and carried her down the steps.

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, sending a
faint whiff of cinnamon and sugar in his direction. “I sure hope you don’t get
in trouble for being so nice to me,” she purred, smiling sweetly.

“I’ve never known anyone to have troubles because of that,”
he said. “It’s meanness and hate in the world that seems to cause all the
trouble.”

She turned her head and looked toward the window to where
Angelina watched from the kitchen table. “I think you’re right,” she said,
giggling again.

Ben wanted to turn and look himself, to let Angelina see in
his eyes that his heart hadn’t changed, despite all that had happened. But he
couldn’t. Instead, he made his way to the stable, carrying Isabella securely in
his arms.