Path of Freedom (13 page)

Bruce ushered Flora back to their campsite. Irene burst into tears of gratitude and hugged her sister. Jim and Marta both stood with relieved smiles.

“We're so glad you okay, Mister Bruce.” Marta wrung her hands as Jim nodded beside her.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” He motioned for Jim to join him on the other side of the wagon. He glanced over to make sure Flora was occupied with Irene and Marta. “Could thee have not stopped Flora from making such a fool mistake as going out there in the dark woods with a bobcat prowling on the loose?”

“We tried to convince her not to go, but she's mighty stubborn.” Jim scratched his neck. “I'm not used to arguing with a white lady. Where I come from, I could be hanged.”

“True.” Bruce rubbed his eyebrows, still in distress. “She can be the most stubborn woman I've ever known. I guess I've got to have a talk with her—and risk her wrath.”

“Maybe it could wait when yous both calm down?” Jim scratched the back of his neck again and shifted from foot to foot.

“Jim, I'm not upset or disappointed with thee. I can't expect thee to control Flora if I've never been able to manage her.”

“Uh, sir?” Jim's gaze slid over Bruce's shoulder.

“What does thee mean, can't control Flora?” a female voice demanded.

Bruce tensed. His skin crawled with tiny needles pricking him, traveling down his neck and shoulders. He pivoted on his heel, knowing he couldn't avoid her anger now. She stood with her hands on her hips, her hair cascading around her shoulders without a bonnet. Where was her bonnet? Didn't she know that all that hair distracted a man? His gaze followed the length of her long tresses.

“Explain thyself.” She folded her arms across her chest and tapped her toes. Her lips protruded in a less-than-flattering frown.

“Flora, we both know that thee should have never come after me in those woods, especially knowing there's a wild bobcat on the loose nearby.” He clenched his hands at his sides and met her gaze, unwilling to back down this time. When he thought about what could have happened to her, his chest spasmed.

“And if the bobcat had gotten thee, how would we have known?” She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing. “It was a risk I was willing to take.” She pronounced each syllable with clarity and determination.

“It was unnecessary and foolhardy.” His fast-beating heart pulsed with even greater intensity as his anger heightened. He wanted to grab her shoulders and shake good reason into her, but he refrained. Flora wasn't the sort of woman he could intimidate with threats or force. Such action would only fuel her fury. The only thing he knew to do was be forthright.

“How dare thee!” Flora leaned forward and poked him in the chest. His black coat took the brunt of her pointed finger. “I was worried sick for thee, but now I'm sorry I even gave thee a single thought.”

The sizzling anger in him eased as her words penetrated his mind. A flutter of hope took root, causing his heart to beat faster. The situation struck him as ironic. Here they were angry at each other and arguing because each was worried about the other. He hid a grin as he rubbed his jaw. “I think I'm beginning to understand.”

“Bruce, I'm not some animal thee can tame into submission,” she blurted as if she hadn't heard him. Her nostrils flared as she took another deep breath to continue her tirade. “God gave me a mind of my own and the same free will as thee, and I intend to use it.” She tilted her face toward him, now only a few inches away. “I will never be controlled by another.”

“I, of all people, know that very well.” He kept his voice low as he rejoiced in Flora's passionate spirit. It was one of the very things he loved about her. She ignited his senses, heightening a desire for her he'd been trying to fight for the last couple of years. Flora was everything he wanted in the woman who would stand through life by his side.

“Then why provoke me?” She tilted her head to the side and blinked up at him.

“It isn't my desire to provoke thee, and I'm sorry. All I want is to protect thee. I can't do my job in leading this mission if I've got to stop and worry about what danger thee might be putting thyself into. I need to know I can trust thy judgment.”

“Thee really believes I'm foolish.” She blinked as unshed tears floated in her wide eyes. “Thee called me foolhardy at the general store back in Greensboro and again just a few minutes ago.” The tone of her voice lost its edge.

“That's not true.” Remorse shot through his veins, pumping his blood even harder. He rubbed his eyebrows and glanced down at his feet before looking back up. “Why does thee always twist my words? That isn't what I meant. I don't believe thee is foolish, only what thee did.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but her lower lip trembled and her words stalled. He waited, but she shook her head and stepped back. A sick feeling burrowed in his gut. He reached for her arm, but she jerked away.

“Don't touch me!”

“Flora, don't turn this into something it isn't. I've never thought as much of a woman as I do thee.”

She shrank back and twisted her mouth in disgust. “Then thee must not think very highly of any woman. I truly feel sorry for the woman who will one day become thy wife. She will need a heart of steel and the confidence of a saint. As for me, I thank God he brought Clint Roberts into my life. Not once has he made me feel two inches tall, as thee has.”

“He's not perfect either. I'm sure he'll say something to upset thee once he's spent enough time in thy company.” He stepped forward and lowered his voice so the others wouldn't hear. “And don't ever compare me to him.”

He leaned forward, his lips inches from hers. The scent of cedar drifted to him, and the warmth of her body being so near filled his senses with longing. If she intended to compare him with some other man, he would give her something she wouldn't soon forget.

Bruce closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers. Flora's resistance crumbled in surprise as a small gasp rose in her throat. Rather than backing away or slapping him, she kissed him back with the same fervor. He had intended to leave Flora with a lasting impression, but the woman had managed to turn his own lesson against him.

Breaking away to clear his dazed mind, Bruce breathed in cold air, allowing it to slice into his lungs like ice. It gave him the awakening jolt he needed. For once, he wanted to have the last word as he glanced at Flora with her similar dazed expression. She touched a pale hand to her chest.

“I want thee to remember
that
the next time thee is tempted to compare me with the likes of Clint Roberts.” Bruce turned on his heel and strode away.

F
lora stormed away from Bruce, her heart pounding so hard it echoed in her ears. She bumped into Jim as she rounded the corner of the wagon.

“I'm sorry.” She stepped back, dazed and disoriented.

“It's okay, Miz Flora.” He looked down at his feet, unable to meet her gaze after overhearing her argument with Bruce.

“Flora, what was all that about?” Irene whispered, pulling her cloak tight as she left the warmth of the fire. “I haven't heard thee and Bruce argue like that in a while.”

“Well, some things never change.” Flora wiped her eyes, angry that Bruce still had the power to drive her to tears after all this time. She touched her lips, still tingling from his kiss. The man baffled her. If he disliked her so much, why kiss her—twice?

“Miz Flora, may I say something?” Marta approached her.

Pausing, Flora turned to her friend with a nod. As much as Marta had endured on this trip, the least Flora could do was listen.

“I know it ain't none o’ my business, but you have a longtime relationship with Mister Bruce, and a friendship like that is worth keeping.” Marta twisted her hands in front of her and tears filled her eyes. “Yous folks have so many chances to love and spend time with each other. We risking our lives to have what yous got. Don't take it for granted. People can be ‘ere one moment and gone the next, like my little Jimmy.”

Marta's voice broke on her son's name. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to swallow. Compassion swelled in Flora, convicting her of pride and some of the things she'd said to Bruce. How did he always manage to make her behave at her worst?

“Marta, don't worry. Bruce and I will be fine. This is the only kind of friendship we've ever had.” She touched Marta's arm and offered a wry smile. “Just because we've known each other all these years doesn't mean we're true friends. It isn't the same as thee and Jim.”

“Naw.” Marta shook her head and glanced over at Jim with so much love in her tender expression that envy spiked inside Flora. “But I'm praying yous will. There's nothing like it in all the world.”

“Maybe one day…” Flora couldn't keep her heavy thoughts from her voice. She doubted Bruce Millikan would ever find her suitable enough for what Marta alluded to, but perhaps Clint Roberts would. He didn't think her so lacking.

“Indeed, a love like thee and Jim have would be divine.” Irene sighed as she gazed up at the tree branches and placed her hand over her heart. Her dreamy expression brought a reluctant smile to Flora.

“I accept thy advice and thank thee for caring.” She laid a hand on Marta's shoulder. “Don't worry. I'll be fine, and so will Bruce.”

Marta grabbed her hand and tightened her grip on Flora. “Don't miss what the good Lord brought. Both o’ yous risked your lives fearing for the other. In spite of what you think of him, he means well.”

Flora swallowed with difficulty. A fifteen-year-old girl had just chastised her. Marta was right, but why did Bruce have to be so arrogant? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the full extent of her humiliation. “Please excuse me. I need a moment alone.” Flora climbed into the covered wagon, where she brushed and braided her hair with trembling fingers. Weariness claimed her as low conversations were carried on outside.

Irene poked her head through the canvas door. “Flora, Bruce said we'll eat the rabbit meat he brought back. Jim is cooking it over the fire.”

“I'm not hungry.” Flora spread out a quilt and lay down. Her stomach rebelled at the thought of eating. How could she fill her belly when her nerves were tied up in knots? Confusing memories of Bruce's kisses danced through her mind while his words calling her foolhardy echoed in her ears. She dimmed the lantern on a trunk beside her pallet.

Flora longed to pour out her jumbled feelings in her journal, but dared not in case Bruce discovered it. He had bought a journal for both her and Irene while they were in Charlottesville. Even that action had proven how thoughtful he could be. She sighed and bowed her head in prayer, lifting her frustrating situation with Bruce to the Lord. Focusing on her thoughts, she asked for God's wisdom to help her make it through the rest of this mission.

As they traveled north, Flora stayed inside the covered wagon, claiming she had a headache. It was true. Pressure in her head pounded with each wayward jolt of the wagon. As hard as she tried, Flora couldn't rest. Her ears felt like someone had plugged them. Eventually they popped, opening up enough to clear her hearing and giving her relief.

“At the top of the hill, we'll stop and give the horse a break. He needs water,” Bruce said. “Now that we're in the mountains, we'll have to give him rest more often to keep from wearing him out.”

“Maybe we should have brought two horses,” Irene said.

“He's strong enough to carry the load we have, we'll just have to be mindful of the steep hills.” Bruce cleared his throat. “He's a good workhorse. He'll make it, but it might take longer than we'd like.”

Flora pulled her mother's quilt over her head and tried to make Bruce's voice fade. She didn't want to hear about his compassion for a horse or admit that he might have been truly concerned for her. If she relaxed her guard, Bruce would choose that moment to strike again. His words could be deadly, criticizing and wounding her spirit beyond endurance.

Right now she would rest so she could be fresh and ready for whatever battles he would bring her way. She rolled onto her side, trying to find a more comfortable spot on the hard wagon bed.

“Lord, help me not to care about Bruce's opinion of me,” she whispered. “Don't let anything he says hurt so much.”

The peaceful rest she sought never came. Flora dozed into a fitful sleep.

Bruce set the brake and propped his foot on the side of the wagon and stared at the glory of the Shenandoah Valley. Mountain ridges spread out against the blue sky in shades of light and shadows. The brilliant colors they had witnessed in the past few weeks now faded to shades of brown and gray, marking the transition of autumn into winter.

“There's Harrisonburg.” He pointed to a cluster of rooftops nestled in the valley below. “It's just past dawn, so we'll camp out up here, get some rest, and bypass the town tonight.”

“It's beautiful!” Irene scooted to the edge of her seat and scanned the horizon. “Isn't it, Flora?”

Flora nodded, keeping her gaze on the scene below. It had been several days since her argument with Bruce, but she still went to great lengths to avoid him. The knowledge stung his pride, but not nearly as much as knowing he could soon lose her to that doctor when they returned.

He had hoped to spend the rest of the trip changing her mind, but none of his plans had worked out. She wanted nothing to do with him. If he asked her to help him with a task, she delegated it to Irene or Marta. She responded to his questions with one-word answers or claimed she needed to be alone for a while and would disappear into the covered wagon. He wondered what she would do if he crawled inside after her. Sooner or later, she would have to face him.

“Flora, would thee make some pancakes for breakfast?” Bruce held his breath, waiting for a snide response. When none came, he stole a glance in her direction. She turned to stare at him. Her blue-gray eyes assessed him with an expression he couldn't fathom. He decided to compliment her into action. “Thee knows how to make them nice and fluffy—just the way I like them.”

“On one condition.” Her lips curled into a smile that sent a ripple of interest through him.

“State thy condition.” She wanted to bargain? What game was she playing? He kept a firm countenance, unwilling to agree to something before he knew the details.

“After breakfast, thee will take me into town to mail a letter.”

“Who's the letter to?” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“That's personal.” Her smile faded along with her good humor. “Is it a deal or not?”

He knew she had written a couple of letters to her mother, since he had peeked at the pages while she wrote them by the fire. His other concern was that she would also post a letter to Clint Roberts. What would it take to get that man out of her mind?

Rubbing his chin, Bruce considered the matter and realized there was nothing he could do. Flora was a grown woman with an independent mind. He would have to place her in God's hands, and if she chose the doctor over himself, he would just have to accept it.

An hour later, he and Flora took off on horseback. The cedar scent of her clothes teased him. Having her warm body next to his made him yearn for a deeper relationship with her to ease the loneliness he felt when she wasn't around. He could get used to this. Wrapping both arms around her to hold the reins, Bruce leaned over her right shoulder.

“Is thee still mad at me?” he asked. Bruce hoped to wear down Flora's defenses now that they had some time alone. A lengthy silence followed, disappointing him.

“I suppose not, since God's word does command us to forgive.” She glanced over her shoulder, but her bonnet kept him from seeing her expression, only her profile. “But that doesn't mean I trust thee. I promised Marta we would mend our feeble friendship, and so the first step I'm making is to accept the fact that thee believes I'm foolish.”

Bruce clenched his teeth and swallowed as he considered his next words. “I don't consider our friendship feeble. And I didn't say thee was foolish. I said what thee did was foolhardy.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Flora, if I hurt thee, I'm sorry. Will thee forgive me?”

“Of course, but thee will say something similar at some point. The only way I can keep forgiving thee for doing the same thing over and over is to accept that it's how thee sees me.”

“That's not how I see thee.” Frustration sliced through him, threatening the gentle patience he wanted to show her. He took a deep breath as their horse descended a steep hill and they both leaned back for balance. The change in momentum jostled them more than usual. He longed to wrap her in his arms and hold her tight against him. An overwhelming feeling of love burst inside his chest, and he could do nothing about it.

“Flora, I admire thy independent spirit, the way thee cares for others, and thy conviction for freeing those in bondage to slavery. The way thee fought for little Jimmy took courage. While thy sister is busy getting sick at the sight of blood, thee rose up to the challenge under stress and did all humanly possible. No foolish woman could have done that. I only said what I did because I was angry and worried about thee.”

“I'll never understand thee, Bruce.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Thee is the most contradictory man I've ever known.”

He would have to surrender his pride if he hoped to convince her of his sincerity. Maybe sharing his heart would win her over. His heart thumped heavy, like a burden weighing him down.

“Fine. If thee would really like to know why I've annoyed thee all these years, it was because I always liked thee. I loved getting a reaction out of thee when I said something to shock or frighten thee. Now I realize how cruel I was, but I never meant to hurt thee. But Flora, at some point thee must let the past go. We have to move on and create new memories that we can cherish. I kissed thee because I can no longer hide how I feel about thee.”

Bruce closed his eyes, fear seizing him as the words floated in the air and penetrated her mind. He waited. No sound. He must have shocked her…again.

“Flora?”

She stiffened and leaned forward. He opened his eyes, not sure what to make of her lack of reaction. She lifted a hand to her face and sniffled.

“Flora, say something.”

“Bruce Millikan, thee is impossible! One minute thee is criticizing me and in the next praising me.” Anger laced her voice as she crossed her arms. “I don't know what to think. Is thee teasing me?”

“No, Flora. I've never been more serious.” Alarm pierced his chest as he tried to make sense of her reaction. Was his behavior as contradictory as she made him sound?

“I'm not sure I believe thee.” She gave a sarcastic laugh. “Listen to thyself, Bruce. Thee annoyed me because thee liked me? What kind of nonsense is that? Let's not ruin the fragile friendship we've developed on this trip. Once we deliver Jim and Marta to Pennsylvania, our mission will be complete. We'll go home on better terms than we were before we left, and in many ways that's more than I'd hoped for.”

It wasn't enough. Bitter disappointment rooted in his gut. He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around her.
Lord, help me, I don't want to lose her.