Courting Miss Callie Page 11

  “I’m good as ever.” He drained his cup and set it down beside the empty one. “I’m glad you’re in Pinewood to stay, Callie. The next time I have a free weekend, I’ll come over and we’ll go for a walk along the deer path—see if they still come along that track to water before they bed down.”

  “They do. I—” She stopped, tongue-tied by a sudden image of Ezra handing her the sprig of pussy willow. She glanced up. Sophia was looking at her. Daniel was waiting for her to finish. She dropped the peeled potato in a bowl of water and picked up another. “I went walking there last Sunday at dusk—just as you taught me.” The childhood memories surfaced. She looked at Daniel and smiled. “I saw a doe.”

  He nodded. “It’s nice to know some things don’t change.”

  That odd note was back in his voice.

  He touched an imaginary hat brim and strode to the door. “Good morning, ladies. I hope to see you soon.”

  “Goodbye, Daniel.” She stared at the closed door, frowned and turned to her aunt. “There’s something wrong with Daniel, Aunt Sophia. Have you heard anything?”

  “No, I haven’t, dear.” Sophia put on an apron and picked up a knife to help her. “But I agree. There is something wrong. Daniel hides it well, but he’s an unhappy young man.”

  Yes. She recognized the shadow of unhappiness in his eyes, the underlying sadness behind his smiles and laughter. It had been in her own eyes and voice until now.

  She glanced at the dawning light outside the window, smiled and went back to work, a knot of anticipation in her stomach. It wouldn’t be long until Joe and Ezra would come in for breakfast.

  * * *

  It had eaten at him all day. Did he have a chance of winning Callie’s affections or not? Ezra checked his reflection in the mirror, poured a slash of witch hazel in his palm, rubbed his hands together and patted it on his newly shaved face. His emotions had risen and fallen all day, like those rafts he’d seen floating on the flood-swollen Allegheny when he first came to Pinewood. Up and down—up and down—carried along on a tide he had no control over.

  He frowned, grabbed the hairbrushes and swiped at his still-damp hair. The warm welcome Callie had given him this morning had set his hopes rising—until he’d realized it was only an expression of her gratitude for helping Sophia. That had sunk his hope. But the way she’d reacted to his touch couldn’t be explained by gratitude and his emotions had soared again, only to fall to a new low when Daniel arrived.

  Daniel. The happiness on Callie’s face when she’d seen him—the way she had called his name and run to him... Could childhood friendship account for that?

  He’d made up his mind to write to Mooreland and tell him to send funds to pay for his trip home, but then at dinner, and again at supper Callie had been so...so attentive...no...responsive—he groped for the right word, gave up and settled for different—toward him. And now, his plans were in place, and he was going to find out if he had a chance of winning her or not.

  He scowled, adjusted the collar of his new, gray cotton shirt and closed the tonsorial case. He strode from the equipment room into the barn and headed for the doors, his boot heels thudding against the planks. He walked around the shay, parked in the middle of the barn floor waiting, stepped to Star’s stall and stroked the muzzle she thrust at him over top of the door. “Be patient, girl. I’ll be right back.”

  He hurried out through the doors and onto the path, then looked toward the hotel. Sophia Sheffield was as good as her word. She and Callie were sitting on the matching porch settles. Callie glanced his way, lifted her hand and did something with her hair.

  He quickened his steps lest she go inside, stopped at the bottom of the steps and dipped his head in a polite bow. “Enjoying the pleasant evening, ladies?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  He smiled at Sophia, then fastened his gaze on Callie. “Joe told me the Senecas are holding a festival dance tonight, Callie. I’ve never seen one and thought I would attend. I would be honored if you would accompany me.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why, I—”

  Clearly, his invitation had startled her. He kept his gaze fastened on hers.

  “I’m sorry, but I must decline, Ezra. Agnes is coming and—”

  “I’ll help Agnes settle in, Callie.” Sophia smiled, waved her hand in dismissal. “You go and enjoy yourself. You’ve done nothing but work since you came.”

  “Well...” Callie glanced at him, then looked back at Sophia. “If you can get along without me...”

  His pulse leaped.

  She turned toward him, a shyness he’d never before seen in her smile. “Thank you, Ezra. I’ll be most pleased to accept your invitation. I haven’t attended an Indian dance since we moved away, and—oh, no...” Her smile faded. “It won’t be possible. The Indian village is too far away to—”

  “You may take the shay.”

  Yes, Sophia was as good as her word. He looked at her and smiled. “You’re most kind, Mrs. Sheffield. I’ll go get Star hitched.”

  “And I’ll change into something warmer, in case the evening turns chilly.”

  He started down the path. The porch door squeaked open, then closed.

  “Ezra.”

  He stopped at the quiet hail, turned and looked up at Sophia now standing at the top of the steps. “I’m trusting you, young man. See that you treat her well.”

  “You have my word, Mrs. Sheffield.” He turned and hurried down the path to get the shay.

  Callie hadn’t said no! Of course, it didn’t mean she wanted to spend time with him. It could be that she simply wanted to visit the Senecas and see them dance. But, either way, it was a first step. And before they returned home he would know if she would welcome his suit, or if she had already given her heart to Daniel.

  Chapter Twelve

  The glow of the setting sun warmed the valley, gilded the misty green and gold haze of the budding trees and towering, dark green pines on the surrounding hills. Ezra relaxed his grip on the reins, let Star set her own pace and glanced over at Callie so close beside him in the small shay. His gut tightened. He dragged his gaze from her profile and concentrated his attention on the narrow, brown ribbon of road wending its way through the velvet growth of spring grass. “I’m not sure where the Senecas are encamped. Joe only told me to take this road.”

  “Their village is on the other side of that rise ahead.” She turned her head to face him. “You’ll see their long houses when we start down the other side. And their fires will be visible, also.”

  He looked into her eyes, and got lost in their violet depths. “You said you watched the festival dances before you moved away—did your parents bring you?”

  “No.” She looked down, smoothing the hem of her jacket against her skirt. “I’m afraid my father holds the Senecas in low regard. It was Sadie’s grandparents who brought us.” A smile touched her lips. “Their buggy was too small, so Grandfather Townsend would pile hay in his farm wagon and we’d all climb in—Sadie, Willa, Daniel and Ellen and I. It was great fun.” Her eyes glowed with the memory.

  “Daniel?” His opportunity to find out about her relationship with the man had come sooner than he’d expected. “Is that the fellow who showed you the deer track? The man who came to visit you this morning?”

  A smile lit her face. “Yes, that’s Daniel. He hasn’t changed at all since we’ve grown, and I was so afraid that he would.” A small shake of her head set the pile of black curls at her crown bouncing. “He’s a terrible tease, but I don’t mind. Daniel’s the brother I never had. We girls followed him everywhere.” She laughed and the rippling sound shot straight to his heart. “He was our hero.”

  Wonderful word, our. Brother was more so. And was—that was the best word of them all. Lord, let me be her hero now. Let me be the one to make her eyes shine with happiness. “Our? As i
n Willa and Sadie and Ellen and you?”

  “Yes. Well, not so much Ellen.” She gave him a sidelong look that invited him to understand. “Ellen was always a bit resentful of Daniel’s teasing, which, of course, made him tease her all the more.”

  “Of course. It was like that with my sister and me.” A grin tugged at his lips.

  “I can tell by your face that it was. And did you get her in trouble? Daniel used to lead us on such adventures...”

  He looked at the warm, teasing glint in her eyes, and lost himself in imagining how it would feel to be admired by her.

  “...when we were ten and Daniel was twelve. We followed him onto a log that had fallen across the creek and Ellen lost her balance and fell in. Daniel heard her cry, turned and dove off the log right into those swift-flowing floodwaters. I was so frightened! I thought they would both drown, but Daniel saved her. I still don’t know how he managed to get her to the bank and haul her out onto the ground.”

  “He was a hero.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes flashed. “You would think Ellen would be grateful! But—” She stopped and leaned forward as they topped the rise. “There are the long houses. Follow that trail on the left. Grandfather Townsend always parked the wagon there by that stand of trees and we walked to the celebration dance area.”

  He reined Star onto the path she’d indicated, halted her beside the trees and jumped to the ground, tied the reins on a low growing bush and turned. Callie hadn’t hurried to alight as she had on their previous ride—she was fussing with her jacket. An excuse to wait for him to assist her? His pulse quickened. He stepped to the other side of the shay and offered her his hand.

  Her gaze met his, then skittered away. She twisted on the seat, placed her foot on the iron rung and laid her hand on his. A beat pulsed in his ears. It took him a moment to realize it was a drum and not the sound of his own pounding heart. “It seems we’ve arrived in time.”

  “Yes. They start dancing when the sun sinks behind the hill.”

  He watched her shake out the long skirt of her dress, tug the hem of the jacket into place at her small waist, and wished she would look up at him—was thankful she didn’t. They were so close he could— He stepped back and cleared his throat. “Which way do we go?”

  “This way, through the trees to a path that follows the creek to the clearing where they dance.”

  Her voice was soft, hushed as the quiet that surrounded them. She turned and started through the budding trees, graceful as a doe, more beautiful than any flower he’d ever seen. He followed her through the shadowed copse to a creek with white ripples curling around rocks then smoothing out to disappear in the dark, whispering water.

  “Mind the twigs.” He stepped to her side, took her elbow and helped her over a tangle of fallen branches onto the dirt path.

  “A moment...” She stopped, twisted around a bit and tugged at her skirt. “My hem is caught.”

  “Allow me.” He stepped behind her, stooped and took hold of her skirt, the fabric soft against his fingers as he freed it from the hard stub of a broken branch. “Got it.” He looked up and their gazes met. His heart bucked like an untamed stallion at the soft warmth in her eyes. He rose, holding her gaze with his. Her cheeks turned pink, she looked down and started walking.

  The drums beat. Voices chanted. Ahead, shadow figures danced around a fire with flames leaping up into the growing darkness. A sense of expectation hovered, and filled him with the knowledge of the night’s silent awakening. He moved beside her acutely aware of their surroundings and of everything about her—her beautiful face above the graceful column of her slender neck, the way the curls atop her head bounced slightly with her steps, the quiet brush of her hems against the ground. He looked down at her delicate hand, pale against the darkness of her long skirt and remembered the smooth softness of it in his. His fingers twitched.

  She stopped and turned toward him. “We always watched from these trees along the creek. It seemed less...intrusive—though the Senecas have always welcomed us.” Her gaze lifted, touched his and retreated beneath the downward sweep of her long lashes.

  He took a firm hold of his emotions and surveyed the area. “I see a likely place.” He took her elbow and guided her to a spot between the thick boles of two trees, the strike of his boot heels against the hardened earth an offense to the soft, rhythmic thud of the Seneca dancers’ moccasin-clad feet. He stopped and released her arm...waiting. She didn’t move away. He stood drinking in her beauty, the tantalizing hint of floral scent that clung to her, then looked at the dancers and reminded himself of his purpose—to learn if she was attracted to him while knowing nothing of his wealth. His pulse pounded with hope. It seemed she was—unless he had misread her blush and the look in her eyes.

  A quiet rustle of fabric drew his attention. He tensed, then turned his head. Two young Seneca girls walked out of the woods, crossing in front of them.

  “Sgėėno.” Callie spoke quietly, and smiled.

  “Sgėėno.” The girls returned her smile, glanced at him, then hurried off toward the fire.

  “You speak their language?” He stared down at her, shaking his head. “I don’t know which I am most—shocked or impressed.”

  Laughter danced in her eyes. “You needn’t be either. I only know their greeting. I came here only a few times when I was very young. After that, Father forbade me.” The shadow he’d seen darken her eyes when she’d mentioned her father earlier swept away the laughter. She turned back to face the dancers. “Daniel can talk with them. He came here often.”

  Daniel again. Had the childhood feelings for him she’d spoken of before changed into something romantic since she’d grown? Perhaps that look in her eyes earlier had only been flirtation. Women were masters at coy looks, though he’d never have thought it of Callie. Of course, he’d been fooled before. He stepped forward, bent and picked up a small branch and tossed it aside, stopped in position to see her face. “He seems to be a very talented man, your Daniel.”

  “He’s not my Daniel, but I wish he were someone’s.”

  She sighed, and slanted a look up at him. He found nothing flirtatious in her expression, only sincere concern.

  “Daniel will be a wonderful husband and father, and I want him to be happy. And he’s not, in spite of his promotion at the logging camp.” She frowned, that tiny vertical line appearing between her brows. “I could tell that this morning.”

  What job would make Daniel a good husband in her eyes? A bookkeeper perhaps? Something better than a stable hand. “He’s won a promotion?”

  “Yes. He’s a teamster now.” A smile curved her soft, full lips. “You have that in common with him—you both love horses.”

  A teamster? Surely that was tantamount to a stable hand?

  She didn’t care about wealth! And she’d made it obvious she had no romantic notions about Daniel. He returned her smile. “From all you’ve said, I believe I shall like Daniel when I meet him.”

  “I’m certain you will. And that he will like you as well.” Her hand lifted, her fingers toyed with the top button of her jacket. “You two may become fast friends—should you decide to stay in Pinewood.”

  Her long lashes lowered, hid her gaze, but too late. He’d seen the look of hope, the flash of interest in them. And it was there in the soft way she spoke the question as a statement. His heart thudded. He tucked his arms behind his back, clasped his hands and held tight, but nothing could stop his heart from reaching out to her. “Nothing could move me from Pinewood, Callie.” She looked up, and he let his eyes say all he dare not yet put into words. “Not even the horses Daniel cares for could drag me away.”

  She didn’t say I’m glad—but her eyes did. She gave a small nod and turned to watch the dancers.

  His pulse surged as before, picked up the accelerated beat of the drums and moccasined feet of the dancers. H
e leaned against the bole of the tree beside him and folded his arms across his chest to control the urge to draw her into an embrace. He must go slow and treat her with the respect and honor she deserved. But every doubt he’d held was gone. Callie Conner was the woman he’d been searching for—a woman who would love him for himself, not for his means. And she was the only woman who had ever stolen his breath with a glance and made his heart race with a smile.

  The chanting grew louder. The dancing took on new fervor. It held no interest for him. He watched the flickering light of the fire’s dancing flames play over Callie’s beautiful face and slender form and knew his heart had made its decision—he loved her.

  Determination to win her affections rose. Callie Conner, prepare to be courted to a fare-thee-well, because I will never give up until you are mine. He pushed away from the tree and stepped to her side. She glanced up. The firelight flared, bathing them with its warmth. He caught her gaze with his and smiled.

  * * *

  Moonglow lit the valley, turned the haze of the budding trees ashen and silvered the feathery silhouettes of the towering pines on the surrounding hills. Night sounds blended with the rumble of the wheels and the plod of Star’s hooves on the narrow, gray ribbon of road that bisected Pinewood. Callie looked at the outline of the Sheffield House looming ahead and wished she could stop Star, make the evening last a little longer. The Senecas’ dance had ended far too soon.

  She stole a sidelong glance at Ezra and her pulse quickened. There was something different about him tonight. There had always been a sort of confidence about him, but now there was a sureness that drew her. She looked at his hands holding the reins, so strong and capable. Her breath caught in her throat. She would soon feel the warmth and strength of his fingers curled around hers again.

  The horse turned into the way, the wheels crunching against the gravel. The shay rolled forward, then swayed to a halt. Ezra reached forward to hang the reins over the dashboard, and his shoulder brushed against hers. Her stomach fluttered. She turned her head and looked at the path that led to the back porch—such a short distance, and then the night would be over.