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"Men are speaking of her. A widow with a mine. I'm surprised she hasn't been claimed yet."
Liam's words did not sit well. In fact, the idea of men talking of her in crude and callous way had my hackles rise, like the wolves that roamed the area.
Liam turned his head toward the crowd, then pointed. "There, see. Isn't that Michael McNamara paying her court?"
I turned my eyes to see, for I kept her in my purview when near. Sure enough, petite Leah Caruthers stood by the selection of dessert pies with McNamara looming. Her end of the long row of tables was quiet, the townsfolk saving their dessert for after they completed their meal.
"He's a good choice for her. Mild and courteous. Lord only knows what Caruthers did to her," Seth commented.
"Over my dead fucking body," I growled. McNamara was a decent sort, a man I'd allow my sister to step out with, but not Leah. Leah was mine.
"Reverend Pick is right over there," Seth indicated with a tilt of his head. "It's a good time as any for a marriage."
"Claim her, Ben, or someone else will."
I hadn't wanted to rush the woman, for I knew her marriage had not been a happy one. It had been obvious to everyone they were not a love match, but there had been nothing to do regarding the arrangement. Legal and holy bonds had kept Leah entrapped until the mine cave in. In a few seconds time, Caruthers had been killed and Leah had been saved. Saved from a lifetime of Paul Caruthers. If I continued to wait for her to be ready for another marriage, we would be old and gray, or she might be Mrs. Michael McNamara. Perhaps I needed to wed her first and show her reason later.
LEAH
Mr. McNamara appeared kind. His smile was mild and his voice was soft. It was blatant, even to me, his interest in me. Me! Why he was even looking in my direction with all the younger women, maidens instead of a widow, was confusing. Mary Green and Alice Rosman would suit him quite well. However, he wasn't with them, but standing before me. With a table between us I felt safe. The man wasn't going to grab me over the blueberry pie and hurt me. Nothing he said about the weather or the lunch offerings could remove the wariness I felt. Surely he meant me no harm and his intentions were honorable. But I felt nothing for the man and if not for the table, I would have bid him some excuse and hastily departed.
As we set up for the lunch earlier, Charlotte Anderson and Rachel Byrnes had been speaking about their new husbands and offered a few salacious details in whispered voices. Their eyes brightened and their cheeks turned pink speaking of their husband's more fervent attentions. They were clearly happy. No fear haunted their eyes. No sounds made them jump. No touches made them cringe. They wanted their husbands to kiss them, strip them bare and take them. There was no doubt the men did, and frequently.
I longed for what they had, but I was too jaded, too wounded, to believe that true love was meant for me. I was destined to be alone, for while married to Paul, I'd longed for just that. For him to go away and leave me in solitude. I'd even dreamed of his death. That dream had miraculously come true—although the deaths of the other men were nothing to be thankful for—and I could not be so lucky as to be provided with more.
Mr. McNamara said something and stared at me expectantly, awaiting an answer, but I had not been paying him any attention. I felt a fool, for I was doing the man a disservice. He should be turned in the direction of a woman who was right for him, whole and eager for his attentions.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I was woolgathering," I told him.
"Her mind was focused on me and the meal she promised to eat with me."
Mr. McNamara and I both turned at the man's voice. It was Ben Worth. My heart leapt into my throat at the sight of him. His hair was as dark as pitch, cut very short and kept neat. He held his hat in his hand and offered me a nod of hello. His equally dark eyes met mine and almost dared me to contradict him. When he looked at me thusly, I froze in place, as if my feet had been encased in one of the squares of ice cut from the river in winter. I swallowed, trying to return my heart to its rightful place in my chest. Could he see it pounding against my breast? The corner of his mouth tipped up into a semblance of a smile and I wondered what he looked like when he smiled outright, imagining it like the sun breaking through a spot in thick clouds.
I'd only seen him a few times, the young ladies mentioning how handsome he was in quiet whispers with their friends and mothers. His looks were not missed by anyone of the female persuasion in town, nor I. I'd turned my gaze to him on occasion, wanting to see the play of his hands on a hymnal or rubbing a horse's flank. I watched as he lifted a sack of grain onto the back of a wagon in aid of an older gentleman and had been mesmerized by the muscles in his back.
Ben Worth was the only man in my entire twenty-three years who made me feel. Something. I didn't know exactly what it was as it was foreign to me, but I liked it. When Paul had seen my eyes turned Mr. Worth's way at a Christmas party, I quickly averted my gaze, ignoring the man and the feelings that went with him. He could bring me nothing but trouble. I hadn't needed the repercussions that Paul meted out with demeaning and harsh words, so I put the man to the back of my mind. Unfortunately, he did not stay there and as I saw him in town, always from a distance, my thoughts returned to him again and again.
Now, however, here he was, flesh and blood and a dimple in his cheek. He was tall, easily a head taller than I, but I was quite small and there was no real way to avoid him. At least with Mr. McNamara awaiting my response. If I disagreed with him, I'd call him a liar in front of Mr. McNamara. If I gave his lie truth, then I would have to...what? I did know that Mr. McNamara did not deserve any unintended interest from me.
I gave the eager Mr. McNamara a false smile. "I apologize, sir, but it must be the heat. Mr. Worth is correct. I had forgotten and he has been kind enough to approach me even as I'm sure he's quite hungry and the food half gone."
Mr. McNamara congenially shook Mr. Worth's hand. "Then I shouldn't keep you from your plans." He nodded to me then left.
The sounds of the congregation were muted, most busy eating on blankets beneath the large swath of shade. Children ran and played, some even venturing down toward the creek to splash.
"It appeared you needed rescuing from an overeager swain," Mr. Worth commented, watching the other man's retreat, then turning his gaze full bore onto me.
"Indeed. Thank you, Mr. Worth, for rescuing me, however, you are not obliged to eat with me. I assure you there are many a maiden who would vie for that attention." I folded my hands in front of me, offering him a placid smile all the while my insides were in complete turmoil. He hadn't looked away from me yet and now his gaze became even more earnest, as if weighing my every word.
"I assure you, ma'am, that I know exactly where I wish to focus my attention."
I had to dissuade him, not wanting him near me. My palms were damp and I was afraid of him. Perhaps not in the way I'd been fearful of Paul, but there was something about Mr. Worth that had me edgy and nervous. Perhaps it was the strong jaw or how calm and confident he was.
"It is unfortunate then that I am not hungry as I ate earlier." I was ravenous, in fact, but he did not need to know that. I had a meager selection at home to eat, although I had planned to take use of the church meal to extend it. It was bandied about town that Paul and Leah Caruthers were well to do, and after Paul's death that I was a wealthy widow. Our home was large, our clothes fine. I'd had money at one time that I'd inherited at my father's death and had been the only lure for Paul to marry me, but he'd bled that fortune dry, pouring money into a worthless mine. Now, I was nearly destitute and a church pot luck provided ample sustenance. It was ironic that my overzealous father had instituted the match, seeing only what Paul wished to show while courting, which was piety to my father's faith. It had been a more devout interest in his fortune. I'd shared my disinterest in the match, but my father had not listened and the union formed.
"Then sit with me as I eat. Surely you would like to sit for a spell." Between his gentle charm and good looks, he was very persuading.
Charlotte, who'd left me to see to her husband, came down the length of the table to stand beside me. "Go, Leah and eat with Mr. Worth. You've been helping all morning without taking a moment for yourself. No one will be coming for dessert until they've finished off all that fried chicken and pork chops." She glanced to Mr. Worth, then back to me with a very knowing smile. I flushed as she caught me in my lie and the man was smart enough to see that. "Ensure that she eats something, sir. I put her in your capable hands."
