Chapter 10

10

J osiah could not pull his eyes away from his wife. He caught a peek of the britches he'd given her as she swung her leg over the mare and settled in.

She leaned forward and patted the horse's mane. "You're a good old lady. Yes, you are."

"Sorry, old Ella is far less horse than you can handle, but the Yankees owned up to all my prize horse flesh. That will change soon, and you'll be one of the first to take your pick."

Her eyes lit up, and her smile blossomed like an unfolding rose. "That will be wonderful." She straightened and sat tall and comfortable in the saddle. "But today, I don't care what I ride. It's just nice to be on a horse again."

He swung onto his horse beside her. Excitement brought a rosy blush to her cheeks and a spark to her eyes that were completely irresistible. His mind wandered to her very kissable lips. The wind brushed tendrils of wavy hair across her cheeks as she waited for his instruction. He resisted the urge to reach out but held onto his reins tighter than he should have. His stallion pranced backwards.

"Head on out." He pointed to the gate. His heart rate needed a moment to calm.

She nudged the flanks of the horse. With a soft voice and firm touch to the reins, she was off. His heart swelled at the sight of her. She was a mixture of wild and worry, happy and sad, confidence and shyness. Everything about her moved him.

He trotted down the drive after her. "Where did you learn to ride?"

"Pa had an unusual philosophy. He was raised a servant's son. When he broke free, he found he could learn most anything. He was insistent we all, whether male or female, have the opportunity to learn whatever we liked, and I liked riding and everything about horses. I also like math."

"Math?"

"Numbers fascinate me."

This woman continued to surprise him. "Well then, once you get settled, if you so desire, we shall see if you have an aptitude for bookkeeping. I know how to do it, but detest it, and it's one of the most important parts in running a successful ranch."

"Do you mean that? I would love to learn."

"Absolutely. You'd be helping me out enormously. Why would I say no to that?" And if he could give her something she enjoyed, all the better.

"That sounds great. I don't want to be bored."

Oh, he could think of lots of things to stem her boredom, but she was not ready for any of them. He worked at getting his mind back to casual conversation.

"When was the last time you went riding? And I don't mean when you had that short jaunt with me."

"Before the war. Pa and my brothers took off to war with our horses, and Pa came home with a donkey and, well…the boys never came home at all."

"I heard. I'm so sorry. Your pa told me you were close to them."

"Like skin to the body." She shook her head and turned her face away from him and into the afternoon sun.

He caught the glisten of tears on her cheeks and changed the subject. He understood the pain. When Georgina had died, his heart had been ripped out. He'd thought he would never love again, but Katherine had awakened life.

"With your obvious love for riding, a trip to the seamstress is on top of the list."

"Why?" She gave him a curious glance.

"For a riding habit, of course. I know you'll put it to good use."

She shot him a generous smile.

His heart kicked up speed. She had given him two genuine smiles in the past half hour.

"This is all yours?" She lifted her hand to the acres of prime farmland stretched before them.

"Ours, Kat. Ours. And yes, I plan to utilize every acre raising fine horses, enlarging the orchard, and planting corn and wheat for market. I have dreams, big dreams, for us, for our—" He stopped himself from saying family. She was surely not ready for that word. "And I'm not afraid of hard work."

"You're not just an entitled socialite?"

"Who described me like that?"

"The ladies in town had many an opinion, and you were often their subject of choice. Funny thing was, none of them described you as a hard-working farmer." She cantered a few lengths ahead of him and threw back a saucy grin. "Farmer Richardson. I rather like that."

He kicked the flanks of his horse and came up beside her.

"Don't tell me you found something about me you like, and in less than twenty-four hours. Things are looking up."

Her snapping blue eyes flashed his direction as a flush of color tinged her cheeks. If only he could read her mind.

With a jut of her chin, she changed the subject. "How do you plan to implement your dreams with just Pa and Abe? Neither of them is what you would call a spring chicken. Oh yeah, and Colby. How old is this fellow? Is he ancient too?"

"Meaning I'm ancient?"

"Oh." Her eyes widened. "I never meant to imply?—"

He laughed. "Colby is younger than I am by quite a bit. I met him during the war, and we became good friends. Like a brother I never had. I was able to talk him into teaming up with me when the war left him alone in the world. He's gone west to settle his personal affairs and purchase the cattle and horse-breeding stock we need. Between your pa, Abe, Colby, and me, we'll have a great start. And I believe that, if you treat people right, white or black, the word gets out and others will come knocking."

"I like your thinking."

"I bet I can up the likes to three before the end of the day. What do you say?"

"You're pushing it now, Mr. Richardson."

"Back to the formal Mr. Richardson, are we? That makes me feel old."

"Well?" She lifted a hand in the air.

"How about I race you across the field to the apple orchard? And I'll show you just how young I am when I leave you in my dust."

Her eyebrows shot up, and she laughed into the wind. "You're on." She kicked the flanks of her old mare and lit out into a gallop. The picture she made flying across the meadow filled his chest with pure joy. Her wild spirit brought life and youthful zest to his world, which had been dead for way too long.

His horse could easily overpower the mare. He drew neck and neck, smiling at the look of sheer determination on her profile. If he let her win, she would think him old, but if he won, it would take away her pleasure. A tie might be the most prudent, so he reined in his horse. The look of delight that flushed across her face as they slowed the animals to a walk made his heart swell to twice its size.

"That was the most fun I've had in a long, long time."

He couldn't help grinning back. "Was I right? Like number three?"

"Yes indeed." She said without hesitation. "How did you know I liked to race?"

A laugh bubbled up from his chest. "Oh, there was little doubt."

He wouldn't tell her that, after that incident in the woods, he made a point of following her from a distance to make sure she got home safely. He remembered how his heart had stopped as she jumped the split-rail fence to her pa's land. She had sailed over it as if she'd sprouted wings and landed with the grace and skill of an Indian warrior. In that moment, two things had become clear. Her riding skills could rival any man's, and she was unlike any woman he had ever met.

"Let's stop here and eat a little of what Delilah made, or I'll have the wooden spoon taken after me."

She giggled as she swung her leg over and jumped smoothly to the ground. "You two have a wonderful relationship, don't you?"

"After my parents died, Abe and Delilah became everything to me. They're family, plain and simple. I know its unconventional. I hope that doesn't bother you." He spread a blanket on the ground and waved her over.

"Me, no." She knelt down beside him and opened the cloth that held the corn cakes, then offered him one. "Never been raised to think I was better than anyone. In fact…" But her words trailed. Whatever she hadn't said left a twinge of sadness on her face. She took a moment to speak. "I've heard talk from some white folk blaming the blacks for the war and their lost families. Sad to say, but there's a fair bit of hostility in this valley toward colored people."

He was surprised by her astuteness. "I agree. Abe, Delilah, and I are careful in public to keep things formal, but at home we're family. And if anyone tried to harm them—let's just say I would not stand idly by."

"Feeling that strongly, I would've expected you to have a discussion with me before we married." She bit into a piece of chicken. "What if I had been the type who thought?—"

"I talked to your pa at length about this subject that first time I visited him. How your family viewed black people was of utmost importance to me. No matter how much I lo—." He caught himself just before the word slipped out. " Liked a woman, I was not about to jeopardize Abe and Delilah."

She nodded. "Hmm, that's good, and so is this chicken. I'll have to get Delilah to teach me how to make it like this." She licked her fingers, and his blood ran hot.

He rose in one swift movement, in need of space, and headed for the edge of the orchard. The apples hung ripe and heavy from the sagging branches.

"Would you like an apple?" He plucked one free and held it up.

She nodded, and he lobbed one her way. She instinctively lifted her hands and caught it. Her eyes danced with merriment. Everything about her filled the emptiness in his life.

As she bit into the juicy fruit, a look of pure enjoyment pulled at her lips. A spray of apple juice dribbled down her chin. He wished he had the freedom to kiss it away. The heat rose in his body, and his heart pumped faster as his mind wandered to places it could not yet go.

"What?" she asked. Her head cocked to one side with a question in her eyes.

The innocent had no clue what she did to him. How would he have the discipline to take it slowly?

"We better go."

He hated to share his new bride, but company was a safe option to the alternative.