Say You Love Me (3 page)

Chapter 1

North Georgia, 1858

Zach Newton, hands on his hips, looked down at the dark-haired girl with the shining lavender eyes and shook his head. "Miss Jacie, you're goin' to get me in a whole heap of trouble." In more ways than one, he thought, wondering if Jacie Calhoun knew how excited he got just being near her. "Mr. Blake will have my hide if he knows I'm teachin' you how to jump. You know how he feels about that."

Jacie dismissed his protest with a wrinkle of her nose as she stuck one booted foot in the stirrup and swung herself up into the saddle. She didn't think anything about Zach cupping her bottom as he gave her a boost, confident he regarded her in the same way the rest of the plantation workers did. She was a tomboy; she had grown up around most of them.

They knew she would much rather wear trousers and spend her days galloping on her horse than wear dresses and do boring things like learning to tat and sew.

Comfortable in the saddle, she took the reins and said, "Set the bar on the top."

He swung his head from side to side again. "Miss Jacie, I ain't gonna do it. That's too high for you."

She leaned down and tweaked his cheek playfully between thumb and forefinger. "Do be a dear for me, Zach, please. Michael will be coming home from Richmond today. I won't have another chance for a while, because it's next to impossible for us to slip off this way if he's at home. Besides, his mother is giving me a big party for my birthday next week, and I'll be busy with that."

Like everyone at Red Oakes, Zach knew about the party. People would be coming from all over because it would be the first social since old man Halsey Blake had died. The mourning period was over and it was expected that Michael was going to want to marry Jacie soon. Zach didn't like that one bit. When Mr. Halsey had hired him as an overseer, Zach had taken a shine to Jacie right off.

He had been all set to court her, till one of the other overseers tipped him off that Michael Blake, the future master of Red Oakes, had designs on her himself. Zach couldn't see that. After all, money married money, and the Calhouns sure didn't have any; in fact, Jacie's father was nothing more than a blacksmith on the plantation. But she was a fine piece of woman-flesh, and Zach couldn't blame Michael for thumbing his nose at anybody who thought he was courting someone beneath his class.

"Are you going to set the bar?" Jacie asked impatiently. "Please, Zach. I can make it. I know I can."

"I just don't see why you're riskin' your pretty little neck," he grumbled.

"Because it's something I haven't done before."

He felt like telling her he could think of something else she probably hadn't done yet, and how he'd sure like to teach her about that too, but held his tongue. "Well, it's your neck." He went to the hurdle and set it the way she wanted.

Jacie set the horse into a gentle trot toward the far end of the clearing. She would need a good distance to get up the speed necessary to clear the bar.

She felt herself sweating, but it was not from fear. Jacie could not remember ever being afraid of anything in her whole life. It was the scorching August day that made her perspire. The old shirt she wore, one that belonged to her father, was plastered to her, and her hair was damp against her neck.

Halsey Blake had cleared this strip of land, intending to plant more scuppernong vines between the river and the cornfields, but he had died before seeing it done. Michael had been too busy learning to run the entire plantation; therefore the section remained barren and made a wonderful place for Jacie to sneak off to so Zach could give her riding lessons. The tall stalks of corn kept them from being seen by anyone at the big house.

She reined the horse about and saw that Zach had placed the wooden crossbar in the highest slot. He waved at her and yelled, "Dig in like I told you, and let the horse decide when to jump."

The horse pawed the ground impatiently and tried to toss his head, but Jacie held the reins, pulling down on the harness. The horse might be ready, but she wasn't, because she wanted to savor the moment of anticipation. To Jacie, life was a series of hurdles that could be conquered only by courage and determination. Each time she felt she was about to make a fateful leap, it was exhilarating, and she tried to make the feeling last as long as possible.

She thought of Michael; Zach had been right when he said Michael wouldn't approve. Michael's brother Edward had died of a broken neck in a riding accident when he was only fourteen. Even though Red Oakes was known for its fine stock, hurdle jumping had not been allowed since the tragedy.

But Jacie loved riding, including the hurdles, which she was determined to conquer despite the ban.

She pressed her thighs against the horse and leaned forward to whisper into his ear, "Do it, boy." At the same time, she dug her heels into his flanks and gave the reins a flip. The horse took off at a full gallop, his mane slapping Jacie's cheek as she raised herself slightly in the saddle. She was braced, she was ready. She had done it before and knew what to expect, knew that when the horse started to leap up and over, she would instinctively stretch herself to almost lie along his great neck as he cleared. She would go limber for just an instant, then brace herself for the jolt sure to come when his hooves hit the ground on the other side.

The hurdle loomed closer. Jacie could actually feel the anticipation rippling through the horse. Zach stood hack, watching intently, nervously.

The horse was about to lunge. Jacie commanded herself to yield to the movement. It was going to happen. She was going to make the highest jump ever and she laughed out loud at the sheer thrill of the moment.

The sound of a voice, sharp and loud, angry and frightened, rang out in the stillness.

"Jacie, no!"

She tensed, did not relax her body as the mighty horse lunged. Losing her balance, she fell backward and to the side. Her shoulders struck the ground first, then her head. She felt a sharp pain just before a dizzying blackness consumed her.

"Jacie, can you hear me?"

The frantic urging came out of the thick fog that enshrouded her. Her head felt heavy and was throbbing. She heard a groan and realized it came from her.

"Jacie—"

"Here. Let me put this under her nose," another voice interrupted.

Something sharp, acrid, and quite annoying filled her nostrils. She fought against it, slinging her head from side to side, which made the aching worse. Her eyes flashed open as she protested against the foul odor of the ammonia. "No. Take it away."

She saw two faces staring down at her anxiously, and one of them belonged to Michael. Groggily, she reached to brush back the unruly curl that forever seemed to topple onto his forehead. It was a gesture he adored, and he caught her fingertips and pressed them to his lips. "Thank God, you're going to be all right," he said, then darted a nervous glance at the man beside him. "She is, isn't she?"

Dr. Foley said, "I think so. She's had a bad bump on the head, but there are no broken bones. She's a very lucky girl."

"And a very foolish one," Michael said, frowning. He could wait no longer to scold her. "What were you thinking of? You could have been killed."

It was all coming back to her, and Jacie felt the anger rise up in her. "I was doing fine till you came along and ruined everything, Michael. If you hadn't yelled when you did, I'd have made that jump."

"But you had no business trying. I'm going to have Zach Newton's head for this. He ran to get Doc Foley and I haven't had a chance to speak to him since. But I will, you can be sure of that."

Jacie saw the pinpoints of anger flashing in his blue eyes. She had seen his temper erupt in the past. He was a man to be reckoned with when angry, and she was not about to allow him to vent his rage on Zach for something that was her idea in the first place. "It's not his fault. Promise me you won't punish him."

"He knows better than to go behind my back like that," he said through clenched teeth.

"I had a right to do what I wanted. How did you find me, anyway?"

"I went looking for you as soon as I got home from Richmond. Your mother said you'd gone riding. Then Sudie told me she saw you and Newton going through the cornfield, so that's where I headed."

"Sudie..." Jacie nodded to herself. "I might have known. She's always watching me."

"Because she adores you."

Jacie knew that was so, and it was also the reason she was not really angry with the little Negro girl. She was only eight years old, and since it was a rule at Red Oakes that children under ten did not work in the fields, Sudie tagged after Jacie whenever possible, offering to help with whatever she might be doing.

Michael ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "You try my patience, Jacie. God knows, you're the most headstrong woman I've ever met. You never listen to anything I say. What am I going to do with you?"

Dr. Foley closed his worn leather bag. "I'll stop back by in the morning and see how you're feeling. Will you be here or at home?" Everyone knew Michael Blake had plans to marry Jacie Calhoun, so it was easy to assume he would make her comfortable in his house while she was recuperating from her fall.

"Here, of course," Michael confirmed.

But Jacie protested. "No, I won't. I'll be home, because I'm fine. I knew how to fall, just like I knew how to make that jump, if I'd had the chance," she added tartly.

"I'd rather have you here where I can see that you're looked after," Michael argued.

"I'll be fine. Mother is going to be worried if I don't get there soon, anyway, so I'd better leave now." Glancing about, she found she was lying on a sofa in the parlor. "Where is your mother, Michael?" she asked, wondering why Miss Olivia wasn't fluttering about in her usual nervous way.

"She's taken to her bed," Michael explained after Dr. Foley had let himself out. "The accident reminded her of Edward's death, so Dr. Foley gave her some laudanum to calm her."

"I'm sorry," Jacie said.

"As for your parents, your father was here, but Dr. Foley told him you'd be all right, so he went back to work. Your mother is sitting with mine till she falls asleep.

"You were unconscious for a while," he added, frowning. "You gave us quite a scare."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, and started to get up. She was certainly not going to keep lying there apologizing for something he had caused, albeit not intentionally.

He held her down gently. "Please stay."

"I don't want to."

"Jacie, you're angry." His expression softened. "But I'm the one who has a right to be. Zach had no business—"

"I told you not to be cross with him. He did what I asked him to do because he's my friend."

"He isn't the sort of person you should be around. In the first place, he's a hired hand and—"

"So is my father," she blazed.

He knew he had erred, but he pressed on nevertheless. "Zach Newton is also a rowdy when he drinks too much, but at least that's on his own time. My father liked his work, so I've kept him on, but that doesn't mean I want you having anything to do with him, or with any other man around here."

Jacie was tired of arguing. "I'd really like to go now," she said firmly.

He gave a sigh of resignation. "All right. I'll have a carriage brought around."

"That's not necessary, and you'd best stay with your mother yourself. She's going to be so angry with me when she wakes up that she'll probably cancel my party." Jacie suspected Olivia hadn't wanted to hold the celebration in the first place and that it was all Michael's idea.

"Nothing is going to spoil that party. It's going to be very special, I promise. It's time to let everyone know that mourning has ended, and Red Oakes is ready to start living again. But most of all, it's your birthday." He smiled, eager to end the tension between them.

Jacie really was looking forward to the day. Michael had even insisted on sending her and her mother to Atlanta to have elegant ballgowns made at his expense. It was thus understood he would be officially proposing soon. Otherwise, such generosity might have been considered improper. Still, Jacie felt uncomfortable about Michael's mother. "Be sure and tell her when she wakes up that I regret what happened. Sometimes I get the feeling she really doesn't like me."

"That's not true, though you do worry her with some of your antics, and you know it. Like that old Indian—"

"His name is Mehlonga," Jacie said impatiently. "He's my friend, and he's teaching me all about herbs and Indian medicine."

"And he's also a renegade Cherokee who's been hiding in the mountains nearly twenty years because he refused to go to a reservation. He sneaks in here to teach the slaves that they should be afraid of white men's medicine. He's been a real thorn in Dr. Foley's side, and mine, too, and I wish you would stay away from him."

Jacie's ire was rising again. "I don't blame him or any other Indian who refused to give up their land and go on that horrible march. They call it the 'Trail of Tears' and—" She threw up her hands. "Oh, what's the use? You have no sympathy for them."