Chapter 23

Otis slept in the loft of the barn that had once been the West sisters' imaginary kingdom. His bed of straw left much to be

desired, but the setting kept his mind reeling for hours. What must it have been like to be poor by way of possessions but

rich in a way most men yearned for? His one evening spent laughing with the West sisters had left him longing for more. When

he'd taken Sadie's hand under the guise of Alexander Darling, he'd almost believed himself a man worthy of her. And when he'd

pressed his lips to her fingers and then to her cheek, he'd wished he could make the moment last forever.

"Breakfast is ready," Sadie called, startling him. "My mama has prepared a feast for everyone. She's a wonderful cook but

has no patience for stragglers."

"I think I can smell it from way out here." He stopped short after helping Wolf down the ladder and tried not to stare, but

her loose hair made it nearly impossible. Thick and lush around her shoulders, her hair begged to be touched. A pleasant unrest

grew in his chest.

"I haven't had time to do my hair." Her hand moved to her long locks, touching the strands he longed to run his fingers through.

He put his hand on hers. "It's beautiful." Closing his eyes, he asked himself what Alexander Darling would say in this moment.

Alone with a woman who roused his spirits and awakened his desire to love and be loved.

Mr.Darling would speak his heart. He swallowed and added, " You are beautiful. Every part you."

"Truly?" She held his gaze, and the hand he touched trembled. "No one has ever—"

"They should have." He moved his hand to her face and, with his thumb, stroked her soft skin. "Sadie West, you're the most

beautiful woman I've ever met."

Sadie smirked playfully. "It is my understanding that you have not met many women, at least not in recent years."

"Do I have to know a great many to notice what is right in front of me? You make me feel..." He wet his lips. "You know

I'm not good with words, but you make me feel safe." His hand moved from her cheek to the thick tempting hair that hung long

around her shoulders. "When I'm around you, everything is different."

"Otis." She sucked in her bottom lip. "When you wanted to hold my hand—"

"I wanted to hold it because when you were away, I missed you."

She took his hand in her own and brought it to her lips, kissing him the same way he had kissed her the night before. Except

now they were not in character. She was not kissing Alexander Darling but Otis Taylor. If a heart could sing, his would have

rung out with joyful noise. Emboldened, he lowered his head. He'd never kissed a woman, but in this moment with their hands

clasped together, he could almost believe she felt the same desire that consumed him.

"Sadie," he whispered. She tilted her head back, her gaze traveling to his lips. The moment moved slowly, giving him time to take in every sensation. The look in her eyes, the smell of hay, and the sound of the rooster crowing.

Her breath touched his skin, caressing him before his lips ever met hers, sending waves of hope and anticipation through him.

He closed the distance, pressing his mouth to hers. It was a dream—it had to be. A perfect, beautiful dream. She kissed him

back, and then her hands moved up his neck, running over his many scars as they conversed with no words at all. Her touch

was so soft, so gentle and accepting.

"Sadie," he murmured with his cheek pressed to the top of her head. "Sadie, I—"

She pulled back. Her hands still touched him, but now with lighter pressure. The dream began to fade. Her expression changed—a

shadow creeping over where only light had been before.

"What is it?" he asked, unsure why the soft, willing woman in his arms was now tense and stiff.

"I'm sorry. It's not fair. I don't want to hurt you." She stepped out of his arms, then took another step backward. His insides

went hollow. Where was she going? Another step put more distance between them, and she nearly toppled over her own feet. Her

hand covered her mouth. "I have to go back to the house. Come for breakfast when you're ready."

"Sadie?" He took a step toward her, only to stop when she shook her head. "I don't understand."

From her spot near the barn door, she paused. "Otis Taylor, this"—she motioned between them—"can't be. Not now, at least."

All the air in him left. A blow to his chest would have hurt less. Winded and confused, he watched her go.

***

Sadie stopped by the side of the house and leaned against the wall for support. She'd just kissed a man, her first kiss. And

it had exceeded every dream she'd ever had.

But it wasn't fair to kiss him or to toy with him and then tell him the secret she harbored about Elisabeth. She kicked at

the mud, not caring about the state of her boots. She had to face her fear and tell him the truth. But then everything could

change. He may not want to kiss her or look at her with tenderness. One kiss, cut short by her conscience, and already she

knew she would spend the rest of her days wishing for another chance to be in his arms.

But kissing and romance would have to wait. Running back to Otis and his loving touch was not an option. The truth about Elisabeth

was bigger than she knew how to navigate, and she couldn't avoid it forever. No matter what happened, someone would be hurt.

Peter, Nina, Elisabeth, Otis. She cared about them all.

"There you are." Molly came around the corner. "Where's Otis? I thought Mama sent you to fetch him?"

"He's in the barn." She kicked again at the ground.

"Did you fight?"

"No, nothing like that."

Molly put a hand on her forehead. "Did you kiss him?"

"Molly," she groaned. "Don't tell anyone. It was impulsive—no, it was romantic. Molly, it was perfect, but it was all wrong."

"What did you do?"

"Stop looking at me like that. It was a little kiss, nothing to run and tattle to Mama about."

"If it was so terribly romantic, then what was wrong with it?"

"It just can't be. I can't court Otis Taylor."

"I saw the two of you last night. You were both stealing glances at each other and blushing. Don't tell me it was only acting—even

Flora saw it. Why wouldn't you want to court a man who looks at you with so much love?"

"It's not so simple."

"I thought you weren't vain."

"What?"

Molly pursed her lips. "He looks different. And he wears his hat all the time, which is the oddest habit. I just... I thought

you saw past all of that."

"You sound like Violette talking about looks. I don't care about his head or his hat. I work for him. I can't kiss him. I

can't be romantic with him."

Molly grabbed Sadie's hands and forced her to still herself. "Sadie, you have spent your life looking after your sisters,

and now you are working hard for our farm and for Pa." She gripped her hands tighter. "You are allowed to think of yourself

from time to time. If you love him, it doesn't matter that he's your employer. People find each other in all sorts of ways."

"I wish it were so simple." Sadie pulled her hands away. "Don't worry about me—I'll manage. And whatever you do, don't tell

Violette. I'm going to pack my bag and be ready to go with Leon and Mildred and Otis. I need to get back to work. He's paying

for Pa's doctor." She put her hand on her forehead, still trying to steady herself. "I need to get back to work."

"You're going back today?"

"Pa will be leaving for the hospital later today. We can't expect Otis to pay for his care forever. Are you sure you'll be

okay here without Mama and Pa?"

"You do know I am only a year younger than you? We'll be fine. Just promise to keep writing your letters and sending them with Peter."

Oh, Peter. She wanted to cry at the mention of his name.

***

Saying farewell to her family was difficult, especially bidding goodbye to her father, and the drive back to the Taylor mansion

was painfully quiet. Leon drove, and Mildred nodded off as the carriage bumped along the muddy road. Otis spent most of the

ride looking out the window. When their eyes did meet, they both quickly looked away.

Sadie spent most of the drive wondering how she was going to work for a man she could not look in the eye. How could she pretend

not to care for him when her heart beat wildly in his presence and her thoughts were full of him? She fought with herself

and her conflicting desires but to no avail. The war raged on.

In the safety of her small staff room, she tried to calm her worries. After all, she was not courting the man. He was not

entitled to kisses and ardor. All she needed to worry about was how to accomplish whatever task she was assigned and prove

to him that she was worth keeping employed, at least until her father recovered. And her secret... When the moment was

right, she would tell him.

Mildred found her later, and like a mother hen, she pulled her close, pressed a kiss to her temple, and said, "Whatever it

is that ails you, set it aside for now. Let's work together to get our Otis ready for the masquerade. Get your skates."

Sadie nodded. It was time to rise to the occasion and prove she could keep her emotions in line in his presence. On the way back from her family farm, she had decided that she would wait until after the masquerade to tell Otis about Elisabeth. She may regret her decision later—only time would tell. But the masquerade was days away, and Elisabeth was safe. For now, it was best if Otis focused on his grand return to Monticello. Then, after he'd faced his fear, she would give him the news.

Sadie entered their private skating hall, still nervous to be so near the man whose lips had touched hers. He was there already,

in the corner adjusting the straps on his skates. She stared from the doorway. Keeping her budding feelings to herself was

going to be very difficult indeed.

He looked up and caught her gawking but offered her nothing more than a stiff nod. No grin. No lingering gaze. No word of

welcome.

Sadie walked to the bench with her head down. She put on her skates without looking up. And then she took to the floor alone.

The room had never felt so intimidating as it did now.

Around once. Alone. Around again. Alone. And then his stride put him beside her. They'd come together despite where they'd

begun. He didn't pass her. He slowed and stayed in line with her, their wheels whirring across the floor in unison.

"Do I get another rule?" Otis asked. Her jaw dropped. She didn't deserve his goodness. "You're here. You came back, so teach

me."

"Otis, I..." She paused. He was offering a truce, and judging by the scowl he bore, it had required constraint. "Are we

on rule seven?"

"I believe we are."

She looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of another rule. "Two nights from now you will be at the masquerade. Don't let

your worries keep you from enjoying the event."

"So I am not to think of Elisabeth while I am there or the way you left me in the barn."

"Not during the masquerade." She took his hand, a daring move that had her wishing anew their circumstances were different.

"Take your partner's hand, whoever that may be, and think only of them."

He did not let go.

"Let's practice," he said. "I will pretend you and I are skating circles at the Big Rink. I will be nothing more than a carefree

gentleman who thinks only of you."

"Very good." She tightened her hand around his. Soon all of this would end—the skating, the conversations, the closeness—and

she would be back to sorting feathers, wondering if there was a man out there who would ever look at her the way Otis had.

Someone else would hold Otis's hand. Now that she knew him, she felt certain his big heart would be seen by any number of

women.

"Tell me, Sadie, is it proper for me to compliment my partner while we skate?"

"I believe a carefully worded compliment would be appropriate."

"At the Crawfords' house, there was a pond back in the woods on the far side of the garden. I often walked around it when

I was feeling bitter about life. I'd sit by its edge and watch the water ripple and glisten in the sun. I found solace there.

I came here, and my pond was left behind. Not only was I back in this place full of memories that haunt me, but I had nowhere

to run."

"It must have been difficult."

"I can't say I loved it at the Crawfords', but it was familiar." He paused. And then with what felt like genuine sincerity,

he said, "So I must thank you."

"Me?"

"You have quickly become more comforting than any pond has ever been. You have helped me cushion the old memories with new, softer ones. I am a different man because of you. I will always be grateful."

She had no words, only a heart that swelled in her chest. Where once she had felt unimportant in Monticello, nothing but a

dowdy feather sorter, his words had given her presence here a purpose. To him she was important, at least for a season.

"How was that for a well-delivered compliment?" Otis asked.

She snapped out of the daze his words had put her in. Pulling her hand away, she skated solo, no longer in unison with him.

"If contrived flattery is what you are after, then you are well on your way. I imagine there will be many women lined up to

partner with you. They'll swoon at your flattering words."

"If I give praise, I will stand by it. You, Sadie West, have been a comfort to me. An infuriating, confusing one, but a comfort

nonetheless."

"Infuriating?"

"Yes! You don't know what you do to me. You write letters to another man, while at the same time making my heart beat like

it has never beaten before. One minute you are in my arms kissing me, and the next you will hardly look at me."

"Otis." She forced calmness into her tone. "Let me give you another rule. Rule eight: if you feel infuriated at the masquerade,

don't let it show. You feel everything. It's your curse and your gift. Too many men work hard but never slow down and feel

anything."

"Are you saying there are times when it's good that I feel infuriated?"

"If our roles were reversed, I would feel infuriated as well," she said. "I only hope you can understand that I don't mean to rile you up. Someday I'll try to explain, but not tonight." She rolled closer to him. "Come, let's skate as fast as we can. I'll race you around the circle."

His lips twitched as though he wanted to say more. No doubt he wanted the explanation he was entitled to.

"Very well," he said through gritted teeth. "Ready—"

She flew by him, not waiting for a command to go. He laughed, and the magic of the rink once again pushed away reality. For

an hour they skated—laughing, racing, and even trying to master tricks.

When at last they sat on the bench exhausted, Sadie asked, "Do you see now why some do this for entertainment?"

"I am now convinced that skating is not only diverting, but that one could even be in jeopardy of falling in love while skating."

The urge to wrap herself in his arms and lose herself in his touch was strong. She focused on the broken window. "I think

anything is possible on the rink," she said, then stood and forced her legs to carry her away from him. "I'm going to go and

see if Mildred needs me for anything."