In a Stranger's Arms (27 page)

Caddie swept him a look cold enough to freeze running water. She started to flounce out of the room, never to darken it again, supposing dust gathered an inch thick on all the furniture and the windows grew too dirty to see through.

“Er... Caddie?”

“Yes, sir?’” She spun and faced him, taking spiteful pleasure in being fully dressed while he was so thoroughly exposed.

“You removed my clothes,” he growled. “I think the least you could do is help me put them back on again.”

Caddie heaved an impatient sigh, as if he’d asked her to perform some odious chore. “Very well. As long as you aren’t afraid I’ll take unwelcome liberties with your person?”

He shot her a wry look. “Just help me dress, please.”

It sounded so easy.

Much as Caddie wanted to get a little of her own back at the expense of Manning’s modesty and independence, she could not enjoy an undertaking that roused so many strong feelings in her. The most intense being regret.

She’d spoiled everything with her haste to consummate their marriage for all the wrong reasons. Protest though he might, she knew, in the way women throughout history had known, when a man was drawn to her. If only she’d just bided her time and let that tightly clenched bud blossom on its own, Manning might have welcomed her into his bed under more congenial circumstances.

With this mortifying finale to their lovemaking, Caddie doubted he would ever make another overture. Vexed as she was with him, she knew deep in her heart she wanted him to. After last night, she would burn for him until she was gray and wrinkled, and folks would be scandalized to think of a refined old lady harboring such feelings.

Desperate to distract herself from those thoughts, and from the unseemly urges the sight of his bare body provoked in her, Caddie searched for something—anything— to talk about. Dangerous silence cried out to be filled with words that must remain unspoken.

“Now that our finances are on a more stable footing, I’d like to host that barbecue we talked about. Give the young folks in the neighborhood a chance to socialize.” Standing behind him, averting her eyes from his shapely backside, Caddie pulled Manning’s drawers up his legs and over his hips. “With your permission, of course.”

She spoke with the excessive politeness Southerners reserved for their dearest enemies.

“This is your house.” Was it her imagination, or did Manning’s voice sound a little higher in pitch than usual? “You’re free to do as you like with it.”

Except come into his room at night. He didn’t say it, but as Caddie circled around and began to button the waistband of his drawers, the unspoken prohibition hung in the air between them.

“In that case I’ll invite folks for a week from Saturday.” It would take a superhuman effort to ready Sabbath Hollow for company. Just the kind of diversion Caddie needed to keep her from mooning over this man.

She struggled to keep her fingers steady as she fastened his shirt buttons. At the same time she tried to ignore the sheen of sweat that had broken out on Manning’s brow. He might not love her, and some streak of Yankee puritanism might make him keep her at arm’s length. But while he might not admit it, even to himself, he wanted her just the same.

Surveying the fire damage, Manning wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his bandaged hand.

A blanket of hot, sultry air had settled over the area in the aftermath of the storm. That didn’t heat him up as much as a passing thought of Caddie.

Part of him wished he’d been worse drunk, blurring his recollection of their mating, so it wouldn’t taunt and tempt him at every unguarded moment. A streak of unrepentant sin in his nature made him wallow in every vivid memory.

One thing he knew for sure, he’d have to get Doc Mercer to modify these damned bandages so he could feed and dress himself without Caddie’s assistance.

“Bobbie,” he called, “can I get you to drive me into town?”

“Reckon so, boss.” The young man ambled over, eyeing the drenched, blackened piece of woodland. “Good thing that rain came when it did.”

Manning nodded. “Queer, isn’t it? If that fire was set on purpose, why not wait for a dry day? And why start it off in the woods? One match in the right place would have sent the shop up like a torch.”

Bobbie shrugged. “Maybe it was just meant for a scare.”

“Maybe.” Manning couldn’t decide whether to bless or curse whatever agency had started the fire and driven Caddie into his arms.

As they drove into Mercer’s Corner, the two men talked more about possible causes of the fire and measures they might take to minimize the threat in future.

They were just drawing up to Doc Mercer’s surgery when Bobbie nodded toward a well-dressed couple parading down the road. “Well, speak of the devil. That Lon is nothing if not brazen.”

“Don’t pay him any mind.” Manning climbed down from the wagon as awkwardly as he’d been doing everything today.

The temporary loss of his hands gave him a heightened sympathy for the soldiers, North and South, who’d lost limbs for good. Did anybody truly win a war?

“That fellow could be a dangerous enemy,” he added. “I’ve got more of those than I need already.”

Caddie, for instance. Had he made an enemy of her with his behavior this morning?

“I’ll try to hold my peace.” Bobbie pretended to ignore Lon and Lydene as they came closer. “That’s all I can promise.”

Manning took a few steps toward the doctor’s door. “Hold on there, Carpetbagger!”

His faint hope of avoiding a confrontation with Del Marsh’s brother expired. Reminding himself to keep a lid on his temper, Manning turned to face Lon.

By the looks of them, part of the proceeds from the Marsh silver had gone to pay some fashionable tailor and dressmaker. Lon’s wife in particular was decked out like a showpiece in a flounced summer gown sprigged with roses.

“Morning, folks.” Manning nodded. To Mrs. Marsh, he added, “I beg your pardon for not tipping my hat, ma’am. My hands aren’t quite up to the task today.”

Lydene regarded him with a bold stare and a sly little smile that might have been inviting. Or had his night with Caddie left him reading lewd intentions into everything?

Lon looked ready to spit on him. “Isn’t that just like a Yankee? Making all mannerly to a fellow’s face, then slandering him behind his back.”

What was it about this man that got under his skin so bad? Manning wondered as he mentally counted to ten. “Whoever claims I’ve slandered you has either been misinformed or is looking to stir up trouble. In case of the latter, I don’t intend to give them the satisfaction of succeeding. I suggest you don’t, either.”

Hearing Bobbie Stevens mutter, “... fine one to talk about slander,” Manning shot the young fellow a glance, begging him to leave well enough alone.

“Don’t you go telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, Carpetbagger.” Lon’s lip curled in an ugly sneer. “Maybe Yankees don’t care about things like keeping a good name. Maybe you don’t have good names to keep.”

His temper flared at that, though Manning reminded himself that Lon couldn’t possibly know about his illegitimate birth. “What am I supposed to have done to sully your honor?”

“First you made a damned fool of me over the family silver, now you’re telling folks I set that fire up at your mill.” The man looked truly outraged. “I ought to call you out right now.”

Having contented himself with casting dark looks at the Marshes, Bobbie Stevens could restrain himself no longer. “That’s real gallant, Lon. Challenge a man to a duel when he can’t hold a sword or a pistol.”

“Bobbie, please...”

Clearly the young man wasn’t about to back down. “Mr. Forbes hasn’t said a peep to anybody about you trying to burn down his mill, but I have. Reckon you ought to call me out? If I’m wrong I’ll gladly apologize, but what was I supposed to think after the way you threatened Miz Caddie—saying fire and sawmills mix too well?”

Lon’s face blanched. “Just stating a fact was all,” he sputtered. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Maybe part of the reason he disliked Lon Marsh was because the man had a much more legitimate claim to be Caddie’s and the children’s protector, Manning admitted to himself. How could he fault Lon for wanting to usurp Delbert Marsh’s place when he had done that very thing?

“You see how easily rumors like that can get started?” Manning had held out one olive branch to Lon already, only to have it thrown back in his face. Would it kill him to try again? “If you give me the benefit of the doubt, I’ll do the same.”

Malice warred with common sense for control of Lon. Every skirmish played across his face. At last he drew himself up tall and fixed on his most engaging smile. “We might have gotten off on the wrong foot at that, Forbes. I reckon neither of us has much to gain by feuding.”

The minute Lon Marsh saw anything to gain, they’d be declared enemies again—Manning wasn’t about to fool himself. Still, this was someplace to start.

“I’m glad you see it that way, Marsh. Say, Caddie’s planning a barbecue a week from Saturday. We’d be happy to have you folks come if you care to. Might put some of these fool rumors to rest.”

“Well now, a barbecue at Sabbath Hollow.” Lon nodded slowly. “Be just like old times. Give Lydene a chance to show off her pretty new dress.”

A little tightness seeped out of Manning’s shoulders. “We’ll look forward to seeing you there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to consult with the good doctor about my hands.”

Lon tipped his hat. “We won’t detain you further. I’d offer to shake hands on our new understanding, but that can wait till you’re healed up a little better...at the barbecue, perhaps.”

Ignoring Bobbie Stevens’ doubtful expression, Manning replied, “I’ll look forward to it.”

As the couple strolled off, Lydene glanced back at Manning with a smile that might have been flirtatious. Or more likely he was just imagining it, and the woman was simply grateful to him for providing an opportunity to flaunt her new finery.

Heading into Doc Mercer’s surgery, Manning congratulated himself on calming hostilities with Lon Marsh. If only he could strike a truce with Caddie that easily.

Chapter Seventeen

“
Y
OU
’
VE INVITED
WHOM
to the barbecue?” On her knees scrubbing the parlor floor, Caddie glared up at Manning. Was he deliberately trying to provoke her?

“I don’t intend to repeat myself.” Manning flexed his fingers, now freed from the bandages that encased his palms. “I’m sure you heard me the first time.”

In deference to her civilized upbringing, Caddie refrained from hurling her soapy scrub brush at his head. “Did Doc Mercer ladle more moonshine into you, or have you just plain taken leave of your senses?”

“What’s so wrong with inviting Lon and Lydene to join us?” Manning demanded. “Maybe if folks on both sides had been willing to mend fences, we could have avoided that damned war.”

“Lon doesn’t want to mend fences.” She scoured a spot on the floor, imagining her brother-in-law’s face in the wood grain. “He wants to burn them down. Did you ask him to bring a bucket of coal oil and a box of matches to warm up the party, while you were at it?”

“Lon didn’t set that fire and you know it.” Manning paced the floor where it had dried. “If he had, the mill and the shop would be nothing but a pile of cinders now.”

Could this be the same man who’d set her aflame in bed last night? Now the only thing he kindled was her temper, or so Caddie wished. “Maybe you’d think differently if you’d heard Lon as good as threaten to burn the place to the ground.”

Why were they arguing about Lon, anyway? It was Lon’s wife Caddie didn’t want darkening the doorstep of Sabbath Hollow. No amount of torture would persuade her to tell Manning why. Still smarting over the way he’d rebuffed her this morning, she didn’t need a reminder of her shortcomings as a wife.

“The man said sawmills catch fire easily.” Manning started to plow his fingers through his hair, then seemed to think better of it. “I could have told you the same thing. It’s more than that, though, isn’t it, Caddie?”

Of course it was more than that. It was about Del and Lydene. It was about last night... and this morning.

Manning had his own ideas. “Lon had the gall to be living in your house when you got back here from Richmond. Are you going to hold that against him forever?”

“Some things can’t be forgiven!” The words gushed out like poison from the festering wounds in her pride, and she wasn’t talking about Lon and Sabbath Hollow.

Caddie hadn’t noticed her voice and Manning’s growing louder and sharper with each exchange until Varina appeared at the parlor door bellowing, “How come y’all get to holler in the house and I get told to shush?”

Her voice didn’t sound much louder than theirs had become.

“That’ll be enough impertinence from you, young lady,” Caddie snapped.

“She has a point, though.” Manning stooped to address Varina eye to eye. “Sometimes grown-up discussions get a little heated and folks don’t realize how loud they’re talking.” He grabbed the end of one red braid and tickled her nose with it. “If you hear me hollering in the house anymore, go ahead and shush me.”