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“If you would like turnovers, you can make them yourself.”
“Maybe I shall.” Chuckling behind a closed smile, he snatched a cake from the table and went to the door where his greatcoat and hat waited on the hook. He swooped the coat around his shoulders. “I shall get the forges going.”
“But you haven’t eaten.” Her quiet voice chirped, pulling him back around. “You shall be hungry.”
The gentle reprimand and the innocent roundness of her eyes stalled him, his arms sliding slowly through his sleeves.
She placed a hand on her hip. “And after all this trouble I went to make it for you…”
He froze, unsure whether to speak or leave or…speak. There had been a hint of jest in her tone, hadn’t there?
Hannah spun and flung a look over her shoulder, a single raised eyebrow making his knees soften. She had teased him right back, and so artfully he’d hardly known it.
Somehow he couldn’t feel his limbs, his heart pulsing so fast he could hear nothing but the thump of his own blood through his ears.
Studying the back of her shoulders, the slope of her waist, her dainty ankles at the hem of her skirt as she worked, a twist of longing pulled through Joseph’s chest, the sudden need to linger growing as bright as the coral dawn that swept across the horizon.
All the protective caution that weighted him motionless scattered like dirt in a dry summer wind. Joseph left his spot by the door and neared her from behind, bending so close he could almost feel the curls around her ear tickling his chin.
Sure to keep his tone rich, and volume low, he moved his mouth beside her ear. “I shall be back.”
Snatching a cake from in front of her, he whirled away, his body humming with masculine pride at the way she’d melted a little as she’d gasped a tiny breath.
Swinging open the door, the cold blasted against his face. The colder the better. For this rising heat would most likely burn him alive.
* * *
Hannah’s ear still burned pleasurably where Joseph’s breath had dusted her skin.
She peered at the cakes, which looked innocently away, as if they hadn’t noticed the gooseflesh on her skin or the way her chest pumped. Hannah shook her head, but the action did nothing to dislodge the well-wedged emotions. And traitorously, her heart was glad of it. She huffed aloud and turned back to the fire, removing the pudding from its scalding bath. Joseph had always been prone to tease.
Bringing the pudding to the table, she carefully cut the string that held the cloth in place around the mass of cooked and mashed peas. She looked out the window and reprimanded herself for not having tread with caution. In truth, she ought not tread at all. That path was rife with briars that would only bring more wounds like the ones she already suffered and still, at times, bled from.
The parlor door opened, and she turned, her heart at her feet as Stockton’s voice peeled through the room.
“Aw, Miss Young.” He stepped into the house, motioning for two others to join him. The last soldier closed the door behind him.
“Good morning.” Stockton caressed her with his eyes. “You are hard at work, I see. Forgive me for disturbing you.”
“Not at all.” She wiped her hands on her apron to scrape away the sensation of his gaze. Nodding her head, she curtsied. “Major Stockton.”
He took a deep breath and stepped farther into the parlor. “I left early to settle a few matters at camp. But I must tell you, I was eager to return, not only for the scents of food that tempted me from miles away but to bask in the warmth of your smile.”
Hannah sighed away the sudden nausea. “You are too kind.”
Stockton came forward, one arm outstretched to her, while he motioned to his companions with the other. “Gentlemen, allow me to introduce Miss Young. Miss Young, Major Pitman and Captain James Higley.”
Hannah’s throat corded. Breathing in slow and deep, she nodded at the second major before pinning her eyes on Higley. He was the one who had buried Ensign, was he not?
His handsome features softened in a smile that somehow eased the taut muscles in her neck. Tall and near as broad shouldered as Joseph, his dark-auburn hair was tied behind his head but appeared to despise its captivity, from the way certain waves tugged away from his hairline. His mossy-green eyes studied her, as if he knew more of her than she knew of him.
She shifted under the strange sensation and looked back to Stockton. “May I offer you men some breakfast?”
Major Pitman bowed at the waist. “You are most generous, Miss Young, but I fear I must be going.”
Nodding to his companions, the mysterious officer left without another word, closing the door behind him.
Stockton scowled at the door, as if his irritation at his peer’s sudden departure could breach the barrier of the wood. A blink, and the look vanished. Lifting his face with a smile to Higley, he then turned to Hannah.
