Captive Heart (17 page)

Chapter 26

Thayne returned from the barn alone and grumpy again.

“You could have gone inside,” he said to Emma when he saw her still sitting in the porch rocker.

“I thought I’d wait for you to give me the grand tour,” she said, bestowing a smile on him in hopes of lightening his mood.

“Nothing grand about it,” Thayne mumbled. “It’s just your basic farmhouse.”

He was wrong. Emma walked ahead of him into the entry while he held the door for her. An ornately carved mahogany table stood to the right, a matching oval mirror hanging above. Beside those stood an oversized hall tree, completing the ensemble and looking entirely out of place. The hall tree had enough hooks and knobs on it to supply storage for an entire men’s club, Emma guessed, and she couldn’t imagine why Thayne had chosen it for his home. A tasseled rug covered the bare pine floor and led to a staircase.

Beyond the hall tree was a doorway Emma couldn’t yet see into. To her left, opened double doors led to a spacious kitchen. Thayne nodded his head, indicating he’d show her that first. Eager to see everything, she handed him Joshua and went into the kitchen, stopping in front of a large round table that looked like it had had little use.

Thayne walked past her and stopped at an enormous cast-iron stove. “Should you get the hankering to try your hand at a pie someday, this is one of the best stoves to be had. Took four horses and went through six wheels getting the thing up here.”

“I can imagine,” Emma said, thinking of the impossibility of toting such an iron beast across the same bumpy roads they’d traveled.

“Dishes are there in the cupboard.”

Emma’s eyes traveled to a lovely hutch along the far wall.

“You’ll find the silverware and oilcloths in the basket,” Thayne continued. “I don’t expect you to do any cooking—unless you want to, that is.”

Had she imagined the hint of suggestion in his voice?

“Right now, everything we eat has to be fresh every day. I didn’t get much ice cut last year because I was busy looking after Joshua. As soon as the temperature drops and the creeks freeze over, I’ll plan a day or two to go cut some blocks. That’ll make it easier to keep butter, cream, and the like a bit longer.”

Thayne brought a hand to his brow and rubbed it as if he were upset about something. “I didn’t figure on Marcus getting a place of his own. Last year the two of us managed to prepare and set aside what we needed. I brought some preserves with us from Sidney but not near enough to get us through . . .” He looked at her hopefully.

Understanding dawned. “You want me . . . Oh my.” Her hand flew to her throat. First sewing and now this. “Thayne, I don’t know the first thing about preserving food,” she admitted.

“I didn’t suppose you did,” he said. “But between myself and Marcus, we could maybe teach you, and then we’d all work together. Truth is, a lot of these chores should have been done weeks ago. But I was gone so long Marcus didn’t get to them. I hadn’t planned on you pitching in so much, but if we’re going to survive the winter here, I’ll need your help—besides your work with Joshua, of course.”

“Hmm,” Emma considered. “Would I get a raise?”

“Of course.” Thayne didn’t seem happy with her answer.

Emma laughed. “I was teasing. Of course I’ll help—or I’ll try anyway.” She walked over to him, placing a hand on his arm. “Be warned. You may be sorry you asked.” She grinned.

Thayne returned her smile. “I appreciate your willingness. Once winter sets in, there will be long hours when you can devote all your time to teaching Joshua.”

“I shall look forward to those too,” Emma said.

He led her across the entry hall to the other doorway she’d seen. Inside, she was surprised to find a modern parlor, with furniture as fancy as many of the homes in her own neighborhood in Boston had. Two stiff wingback chairs were arranged in front of the window, and a curved settee sat against the opposite wall. An oval table rested on a patterned oval rug at the center of the room. A tall, stately grandfather clock towered in the corner. Everything appeared as if it had hardly been touched. A thin sheen of dust covered the furniture and even the rug. Emma wondered if it had ever been walked on.

A fire crackling in the fireplace struck her as the only warm and welcoming thing in the entire room. As with the furniture and rug in the entryway, everything seemed out of place, as if someone had tried—and failed—at importing an East Coast townhouse to a country farm. She doubted she would spend any time in here. The last thing she wanted to do was sit in a parlor and endure required social visits. She’d had enough of that back in Boston.

Though Emma could not cook, the kitchen was more to her liking, and she much preferred the rockers on the porch to the uninviting chairs in the parlor.

“If you don’t mind too much, I’ll keep my things in here,” Thayne said. “I’ll sleep on the porch so I’m close by, but I won’t disturb Joshua’s sleep when I go out to the barn early.”

“That sounds very agreeable—if
you
don’t mind the inconvenience.”

“No inconvenience,” Thayne assured her. Joshua squirmed in his arms, and Thayne leaned over, setting him down on the dusty rug. “I hope you don’t mind sharing with Joshua. There’s only the one room that can be used upstairs. The other belonged to my wife, and I’d prefer to leave it be.”

“Of course.” Emma felt a peculiar pinch at her heart.
You had a wife once. Joshua had a mother. I am just his teacher.
Knowing already that she wanted more—and could not have it
—
she wandered closer to the fireplace. Thayne followed.

“It’s better I’m down here for other reasons too,” he continued. “Marcus thinks we need to tell people you’re my cousin—so they don’t get the wrong idea. If I keep my things down here, and you take the room upstairs—”

“Are you suggesting we
lie
, Mr. Kendrich?” Emma tried her best to look appalled.

“Only to protect your reputation, Miss Madsen. If you are unconcerned, then I see no reason to say anything.”

I’m concerned all right. Though it’s my heart I fear for more than my reputation.
Emma pretended to be considering as she took a crystal candlestick holder from the mantel. After a moment, she held it up as if she were toasting with a glass of champagne. “To lying.”
And lots of other wrong things like running away from home, sleeping under the stars, walking around in bare feet, bathing in a hot spring . . . falling in love.

Thayne picked up the matching piece. The crystal clinked, and their eyes met.

“To lying.”

* * *

Sunlight streamed through the upstairs window by the time Emma woke the following morning. She yawned, stretched, then lay perfectly still, enjoying the luxury of the feather tick. Though it sat on the floor—Thayne promised he would build a bed frame soon—she felt better rested than she had since leaving home.

Better rested and
clean.
Last night she had shut the kitchen doors and spent a lovely hour soaking in a real bathtub. While she had enjoyed her last bath at the spring, there was something about a warm kitchen, a scented bath, and a clean towel, that made her feel feminine once again. If only her clothes were as clean. Emma groaned, thinking about the pile of laundry that awaited her.

Throwing back the covers, she walked to Joshua’s cradle and was surprised to find him gone.
Did someone come in here while I was sleeping?
Pulling on her robe, she went out to the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Thayne sat at the table, a spoon held in his hand as he fed Joshua, who was seated in a baby chair she hadn’t noticed yesterday.

“Did he—did he get out of bed by himself?” she asked.

Thayne looked over at her, a corner of his mouth lifting as he took in her disheveled braid, wrapper, and bare feet. “I got him up, but he
was
fussing. You sleep like the dead, Emma.”

She blushed. “And a good morning to you too. I’ll get dressed and be back down to help.”

“You do that.”

She ran up the stairs, into the bedroom, and closed the door, leaning against it as her heartbeat steadied.
What was I thinking to go down looking like this? Why is this so difficult—already?

She crossed to her trunk and dug a clean shirtwaist from it. She’d have to wear a dirty skirt until the wash was done, but that was the least of her worries at the moment.

Thayne always seemed to guess what she was thinking or how she felt. It would never do to have him knowing her feelings now. She had to get herself under control, had to quit thinking about the man downstairs and start concentrating on his son—the little boy she’d come here to help.

The reason I’m here,
she reminded herself. It was going to be a very long year if she couldn’t do that, couldn’t quit acting like a schoolgirl who felt her heart go pitter-patter each time the boy she liked smiled at her across the school yard.

Chapter 27

Dearest Father,

I am sorry to have missed you in Sidney, but I am now arrived safely at my new position. While on the train from Chicago, I met a gentleman in need of assistance with his young son. The pay is twice what I would have made in Sterling, and I am eager to work with this pupil, as I believe he suffers from some of the same difficulties Mama had. It is a joy, Papa, to think of helping this child by teaching him the language Mother taught me.

Please forgive me for leaving without telling you, but I could see no other way to convince you I could not marry Wilford. Tell him I wish him the best.

I shall be in touch again soon.

All my love,

Emmalyne

Emma read over the short letter once more, then folded the paper and placed it in the envelope. She picked up the seal, pressed it into the wax, and stamped her initials over the fold. She was grateful she’d thought to bring her stationery set—perhaps seeing the familiar paper and hearing from her would be enough to convince her father that all was well.

“Shall we go for a walk, Joshua?” she asked the little boy sitting on her feather tick. She’d set him there a quarter of an hour ago, giving him one of her baubles to play with. It was encouraging to see him touching the jewels and showing interest in his surroundings. “It seems your hands work just fine,” she commented as she worked the bracelet from his grasp. “Now if we can just get you to use them more and get you walking.” She made the sign for walk with her fingers. “Walk,” she repeated, pointing to her legs as she moved back and forth across the floor in front of him.

“Joshua walk.” Kneeling, she picked him up and tried to stand him up in front of her. His little legs buckled. “Joshua,” she said sternly. “You’re a big boy. You need to use those legs.” Rolling up his pants, she pointed to his legs. “Walk. Legs wal—” Emma gasped. A terrible scar wound its way around the back of Joshua’s calf, unsightly stitch marks scoring the leg. She shuddered, wondering what on earth had happened to the boy. Her eyes filled with tears, imagining the pain he must have suffered.

Since they’d picked up Joshua from the Lakota camp, Thayne had been more than dedicated in the care of his son, changing his nappies, feeding him at mealtimes, dressing him. Now she wondered if there was more than fatherly love behind his actions.
But why would he hide this from me? He wants me to help his son.

Her curious eyes met Joshua’s, still focused on the bracelet she’d placed just out of his reach. “Maybe we’ll walk out and see your daddy.” She stood, then gathered Joshua in her arms. “He’s been so busy playing with his cows these past few days that he hasn’t had much time to talk to me, and I think he needs to explain a few things.”

She marched downstairs, wrestled Joshua’s coat and her shawl from the hideous coatrack, and went outside. Standing on the porch steps a moment, she looked all around the yard but could see no sign of Thayne or Marcus, though she knew one of them, at least, was nearby. Thayne had promised her that either he or Marcus would always be within earshot and she was to yell for them if there was ever a problem—
any
problem, he’d emphasized.

When Emma had asked what he meant by that, the only thing he’d told her was to always keep Joshua in sight. She was not to leave him alone for a minute—not even in the next room while she stirred the soup or brought in the wash. His order had left her somewhat perplexed, though now that she’d seen Joshua’s scar, she better understood Thayne’s request. But it was time, Emma decided, that she and Thayne had a long talk. Though she’d only been here a week, there were a dozen or more questions she wanted answered.

Carrying Joshua, she walked down the drive to the barn. Marcus was just outside, loading baskets of berries and bushels of apples into the wagon to transport them to the house.

“You about ready to do some canning, Miss Emma?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, eyeing the overflowing containers. “Did you pick all those berries, Marcus?”

“That I did.” He beamed. “And I hear you make a mean pie. Any chance of getting one of those tonight?”

Uh oh.
“I’ll try,” she said feebly. “But it has been a long time, and I’m sure you’ve noticed about the only thing I’ve mastered cooking in the last week is hotcakes.”

“And fine hotcakes they are.” He winked.

“Have you seen Thayne?” she asked, hoisting Joshua to her other hip. “I was hoping he might tell me about the scar on Joshua’s leg.”

Marcus set the last bushel in the wagon. “He might tell you. Might not. But I wouldn’t ask if I were you.”

“Why not? If I am to teach Joshua how to walk, I should know his limitations. I need to know what has happened in his past.”

“Nothin’ good, that’s what,” Marcus said. “Nothin’ good happened to his daddy, either, and that’s all you need to know to help them both. I seen you with Joshua. You know them finger movements for words and stuff. You’re teaching him to talk that way, ain’t you?” He removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Emma nodded. “I’m trying.”

“You go to a special school to learn that?”

“No.” She didn’t offer any other information. If the men intended to be so tight-lipped about the past, then she could do the same.

Marcus wasn’t going to let her off so easy. “Well, where’d you learn it, then? It’s plain as day you know exactly what you’re doing with that boy.”

“I know because I grew up speaking that way. Thank you, Marcus. I’ll get the kitchen ready.” She turned away and walked back to the house, more curious than ever about the little boy in her arms and his father, who she couldn’t seem to keep from her thoughts.