Mona Hodgson - [Hearts Seeking Home 01] (30 page)

Anna’s mouth dropped open. “You’re coming?”

Boney grinned. “Do you have to sound so disappointed?”

“I’m not. Just surprised, is all.” Anna looked at Großvater.

Großvater nodded, and she was pretty sure she saw a twinkle in his eyes.

“The more the merrier is how I think.” Boney clapped Caleb on the shoulder. “We accept.”

Caleb nodded, a grin deepening the dimple in his cheek.

The more the merrier, unless you’re interrupting a kiss. Or you were once the intended of the woman who invited another man to supper. Anna sighed,
and took the lead to their camp while the men talked about greasing wagon wheels, fording rivers, and trappers named Skins.

She served the food, and soon everyone was happily filling their stomachs.

Caleb took a second bread roll from the basket. “You made these?” he asked Anna.

“I did. And the veal
potthast
.”

“Best I’ve ever tasted.”

Anna moistened her lips. “You like German foods?”

“I do now.”

Anna’s cheeks warmed.

Boney cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t be too flattered, Anna. Caleb’s told me he likes my cookin’ too.”

Anna smiled.

“Him, on the other hand.” Boney looked at Caleb, his mouth turned up in a grin. “Well, Caleb’s cookin’ can leave a wild animal feeling hungry.”

Caleb peered at Boney over his forkful of potato.

Boney shrugged. “Just sayin, you’re gonna need a woman who can cook.”

Grinning, Caleb looked directly into her eyes. Good thing she was seated. “It’s the truth.”

Großvater lifted his coffee cup. “Which part is the truth?”

“Otto’s got a point there, Tennessee,” Boney said. “You agreein’ your cookin’ is too bad for even a wild animal, or you lookin’ for a woman who can cook?”

Caleb scooped a generous bite of veal onto his fork. “Yes.”

Anna pressed her bottom lip between her teeth but was still having trouble containing a giggle. This was more fun than she would’ve guessed possible.

“Well, I can see we’re gettin’ nowhere with Caleb. Not while there’s still food here.” Boney glanced at the wagon. “Where’s your mother? Is she ill?”

Anna drew in a deep breath. “She wasn’t feeling her best today and decided to rest before our departure in the morning.”

“My daughter is pouting.”

“Großvater!” Anna squared her shoulders.

He shrugged. “These young men need to know right here and now that you women pout.”

Anna drew in a slow, deep breath, refusing to offer any hint of a pout. Boney’s and Caleb’s mouths tipped into not-so-subtle grins.

Großvater focused on the young men. “When females don’t get their way, that’s what they do. At any age. Every age.”

Caleb glanced at Anna, mischief brightening his face. “That’s good to know, sir.”

“My daughter, she wants to stay in Independence.”

Boney set his half-eaten bread on his plate, no doubt surprised and concerned. But it was Caleb’s reaction, not Boney’s, Anna cared most about. She met his pensive gaze.

A frown creased Caleb’s sun-kissed brow. “You’re not leaving the Company, are you?”

“No,” Großvater said. “I told her no.”

The smile on Caleb’s face added to Anna’s joy. In their first meetings, she wouldn’t have guessed the two of them could be friends, but now …

Boney blew out a long breath. “Safe to say we’re both thankful you’re staying with us.”

Caleb looked straight at Anna. “Yes, very grateful.”

Anna nodded, her list of reasons not to leave Caleb Reger growing fast. His willingness to lend a helping hand to anyone who needed it. The tenor of his voice when he read Scripture. His good humor in Boney’s relentless teasing. The way he smiled after every bite of her cooking …

Caroline stood beside Anna’s horse, Molasses. Had horses grown taller, or was she shrinking? When Garrett Cowlishaw suggested a Sunday ride, she’d ignored the fact that it had been nearly six years since she’d ridden a horse.

Yet, here she was in a skirt, with a man who rode a horse every day.

It seemed she had only three choices. One, attempt to climb up by herself, risk falling to the ground, or worse, dangling with her foot caught in the stirrup. Two, tell Garrett the truth, that she felt insecure about her riding skills. Or three, she could suddenly feel ill and cancel the ride.

Talking herself into spending time with any man other than Phillip, much
less this particular one, had been no easy task. Steeling herself, Caroline turned to face her companion. Garrett stood beside his black stallion looking every bit a seasoned horseman.

“Mr. Cowlishaw.”

“Garrett.”

“Garrett.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “I’m not a horsewoman.”

“You’ve never ridden?”

“Twice. But it’s been a long while.”

He smiled. “I didn’t consider that being from the city, you may—”

Caroline raised her gloved hand to stop him. “I’m not opposed to riding. I’m just not sure where to begin so as to land on the saddle”—she looked at their feet—“and not on the ground.”

His chuckle tender, Garrett stepped toward her. “Not that I’m an expert in the art of landing in a sidesaddle, mind you, but I’m happy to help.”

She pressed her lips together, holding back a giggle. “Please.”

Garrett held the stirrup for her. When he pointed to her left foot, she took the prompt and raised her leg. Once she had her foot in the stirrup, Garrett moved to her side and placed his hands around her waist. Her breaths quickened. Until now, no one but Phillip had ever touched her in such an intimate way. The blend of amusement and awareness she detected in Garrett’s eyes did nothing to calm the flutters in her stomach.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She was better now than she’d been in a long time.

When she nodded, Garrett lifted her into position, helping her right leg over the pommel.

Caroline settled into the saddle then took the reins from him. “I am quite certain that went much more smoothly with your help than it would’ve without it. Thank you.”

Garrett swung into the saddle on his stallion and leaned toward her. “You’re most welcome, ma’am.” He brushed the brim of his white hat.

“Caroline. Please call me Caroline. You did, after all, keep me from taking a tumble.” She smiled.

“I’m happy to oblige.” He lifted the reins. “Are you ready, Caroline?”

Yes. No
. Nodding, she raised her eyebrows. “I think so.”
Please let me be ready, Lord
.

Garrett clicked a command to the horses, and they sauntered across the lush meadow toward a stand of trees. Molasses’s first steps made Caroline feel like cream sloshing in a bucket. She gripped the front edge of the saddle with her right hand to steady herself. Soon, her body began to sway with the bay’s steady rhythm.

Following Garrett, she couldn’t help but note that he’d given her space to reacquaint herself with the feel of a horse in movement without the embarrassment of a watchful eye. A helpful teacher, and a thoughtful one too.

She managed to ride up beside the stallion and guide Molasses to match the pace of the taller black horse. Garrett glanced at her but remained silent, looking peaceful and at home on horseback. Or with her?

Enjoying the solace, Caroline looked up at the flawless blue sky, watching a yellow bird flit from a primrose bush to a box elder. She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

They’d ridden in silence for a few minutes when she sensed Garrett’s attention. She met his warm gaze and smiled. How long had he been watching her?

“You’re feeling all right?” he asked. “Comfortable?”

“I am.” On the horse, and with him.

Garrett glanced at the grassy ground, then back up at her. “The last time you rode a horse, it was with your husband?”

“Phillip’s uncle had a ranch outside of Philadelphia, and we rode there a time or two.”

“Has it gotten any easier?”

The sincerity in his eyes told her he wasn’t talking about riding a horse. “Easier than it was when you first handed me the letter from the Department of War? Yes.”

“I’m glad.” Garrett shifted on his saddle. “I know it’s been difficult.”

“It has, but—”

“You’re here.”

She nodded. “Yes.” With him. And enjoying his company. A vast improvement from her feelings mere weeks ago.

They’d ridden a ways farther from camp when Garrett stood in the stirrups and stretched his right leg.

“Does the leg pain you much?” she asked.

His brow creased. “Only when I ride.”

Caroline’s breath caught and she pulled back on the reins, halting her horse. “But you ride every day. We’re riding—”

His boyish grin stopped her midsentence. “I’m tugging your leg now.” He chuckled, his face turning red. “I know it was mean, but I couldn’t help myself.”

Good; he also had a sense of humor. He definitely possessed many intriguing layers. For show, she slapped the air between them and he ducked. Yes, she was already enjoying getting to know the man leading the caravan.

She pulled the reins around and signaled for her horse to resume his slow gait. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you injure your leg? When we first met, my nephew Gilbert asked if you’d been shot, and you told him you hadn’t.”

“Yes. I remember.” He sat back down. “He’s a bright boy. You must miss Gilbert—all of them—Mary, Cora, and your sister.”

He obviously remembered Jack too, since he’d failed to mention her brother-in-law in the list of those she was likely to miss.

“The injury was a knife wound.” He flexed his leg before settling his boot into the stirrup. If Phillip were able to tell her what happened in battle, would he? She guessed not.

Concerned with her sensibilities, her late husband would’ve kept the experiences to himself. She was wrong to ask Garrett to talk about the war. He probably thought her unladylike to inquire. Even forward. Brash.

Gripping the front of the saddle, she straightened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Don’t ever think that. I want us to know each other.”

Her skin suddenly warmed, and she pressed her hand to her collar. “I want that too.” No, Garrett Cowlishaw was not Phillip Milburn. And as much as she’d loved Phillip, her curiosities concerning the man beside her mounted.

“It happened in a battle, but not in the kind of battle you might expect.”

“I don’t understand. It was an accident involving a fellow soldier?”

“Phillip no doubt joined the Union army as a patriot, convinced he was fighting for a noble cause.”

“He did.” His callous repetition of the stark difference between him and her late husband awakened her indignation, but she pushed it down. They needed to at least hear each other out. “Phillip believed in the
United States
. He fought and died for the freedom of all men.”

Garrett nodded.

He had nothing more to say about it? Perhaps she and the captain getting to know each other wasn’t such a splendid idea after all.

“As you know, I was a Confederate soldier.”

“Our first point of contention.”

“Yes.” His horse stopped in front of the stand of dogwood trees. “There’s a log over there. Mind if we sit for a spell?”

“Probably a good idea.” If he got her mad enough, she was liable to twitch her ankle at the horse’s side, giving Molasses the wrong idea.

He dismounted, then helped her down, and they walked the few feet to the log and seated themselves.

Garrett removed his hat and straddled the fallen tree, facing her. “Caroline, I didn’t fight with my squad. Don’t get me wrong. When I needed to, I fought to protect my fellow soldiers. But I didn’t join the army because I agreed with their cause. It’s a poor excuse and makes me sound weak, but I joined because I was afraid of my father most of my childhood. And desperate to please him.”

“Your father made you go to war?”

“As far as he and my brother were concerned, I had no choice but to go in gray.”

Caroline worried the seam on her calico skirt.

“A time came when I’d had enough.” He slapped his hat against his leg. “My squad came upon a family of runaways.”

“You were stabbed trying to capture runaway slaves?”

Garrett looked away.

Her stomach knotted. This was a mistake. She didn’t want to know.

“Trying to protect them,” he said.

Her breath caught. “Trying?”

Tears brimmed in his eyes. “He was a boy. Thirteen.”

She pressed her hand to his tensed arm. “He didn’t make it?”

His shoulders sagged. His head turned side to side like a slow pendulum.

Tears stung her eyes and burned her cheeks. “But you were willing to give your life to save him.” Her heart breaking, her voice cracked. “You tried to save him.”

Every horrible thing she’d said to Garrett when they first met assaulted her
like fiery arrows. She’d treated him like a criminal. Like an enemy. Why, she’d all but accused him of personally killing her husband.

She slid her fingers down his arm and gripped his hand. “I was awful to you. Can you ever forgive me?”

Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Garrett looked her in the eye. “I already have.” He let go. “Caroline, there’s something more you should know about me if we are to spend more time together.” He glanced at the horses. “Together like this, I mean.”