the buggy. Maybe I was being too harsh, but I’d only just met the man and already he’d held my hand for all to see and tried to guide me with the intimate touch of his palm. If I didn’t draw my line in the dirt now, when would I be able to speak against what I knew to be improper? Scooting as far over as possible in the open buggy, I pulled my skirts in and tried not to touch the other passengers.
The view from the rough areas in Boston to the cleaner streets of the modestly housed would have been quite nice if I could take my astonished gaze from the bouncing, snow-white, bosom of Kristina as she pointed and laughed and talked about the passing city. When she turned her neck, a horrific angry scar peeked out from her hairline and disappeared into the neck of her dress. I’d never seen such an injury and my mouth went as dry as a cottonwood when she caught me staring.
“I don’t mind you lookin’, Ms. McGregor,” she said, but as the words left her lips, her hand drew self-consciously over her marred skin.
Luke pulled her hand away and whispered something into her ear that brought an attractive blush to her fair cheeks.
“Does it hurt?” I asked over the noise of the wheels.
“Yes ma’am, for it’s only a couple months healed. I expect it always will, but somewhere along the way I’ll get used to it.” Her voice was so cheerful and open, that a deep gash of regret took me.
I was making a terrible impression on a woman who’d had a hard time too—on a woman who would be family soon. I’d always wished for a sister, I just hadn’t ever imagined she’d be so scantily clad and uneducated. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, I supposed.
The buggy pulled in front of a small house on a quiet street. Someone had planted gads of early white daisies out front which made it stand out from the other houses that were perfectly groomed. Kristina was nearly overflowing with excitement and her hum was catching, except for me, it came out as acute nervousness.
Luke helped his wife out of the buggy while Jeremiah jumped over the side in a motion so graceful he looked like some exotic stag. If I’d ever attempted something like that, I’d fall straight on my face with my skirts over my head. He was waiting patiently for me to exit the buggy and while I was tempted to stay right where I was until he gave up on touching me, I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his waiting family. I sighed. There was no help for it. His strong hands wrapped almost all the way around my withered waist and he lifted me down like I weighed nothing at all.
The house had been whitewashed to match the daisies and boasted darker shutters. It was a cheery little home but before I could walk up the front porch, Kristina put her fingers to her lips and held me back.
“Let them have their fun,” she mouthed like someone on the empty street would be able to hear a whisper.
A loaded look passed between the Dawson brothers, and quiet as foxes on the hunt, they crept around the back of the house with such agility the fine hairs rose on my arms. Moments later a scream came from inside the house but it was void of fear and filled with surprised delight.
Kristina grabbed my hand and dragged me up the stairs. “Now we can go.”
I tried to pry my fingers from hers, but she’d have none of it. Country folk seemed very dependent on physical assurances.
Murmuring grew louder from inside the house, and as the door opened, there Jeremiah stood, saying, “Ma, Da, Luke and I have a couple of ladies we’d like you to meet.”
With one hand behind his back and one hand offered to me, I gritted my teeth and placed my ungloved fingers in his while Kristina gave a dainty curtsey to the woman inside the doorway.
She looked absolutely shocked at the appearance of two strangers on her doorstep. She had her arm clasped tightly around Luke and elegant eyebrows knitted together as she asked, “Boy’s, are you mated?”
Mated? What a
The view from the rough areas in Boston to the cleaner streets of the modestly housed would have been quite nice if I could take my astonished gaze from the bouncing, snow-white, bosom of Kristina as she pointed and laughed and talked about the passing city. When she turned her neck, a horrific angry scar peeked out from her hairline and disappeared into the neck of her dress. I’d never seen such an injury and my mouth went as dry as a cottonwood when she caught me staring.
“I don’t mind you lookin’, Ms. McGregor,” she said, but as the words left her lips, her hand drew self-consciously over her marred skin.
Luke pulled her hand away and whispered something into her ear that brought an attractive blush to her fair cheeks.
“Does it hurt?” I asked over the noise of the wheels.
“Yes ma’am, for it’s only a couple months healed. I expect it always will, but somewhere along the way I’ll get used to it.” Her voice was so cheerful and open, that a deep gash of regret took me.
I was making a terrible impression on a woman who’d had a hard time too—on a woman who would be family soon. I’d always wished for a sister, I just hadn’t ever imagined she’d be so scantily clad and uneducated. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, I supposed.
The buggy pulled in front of a small house on a quiet street. Someone had planted gads of early white daisies out front which made it stand out from the other houses that were perfectly groomed. Kristina was nearly overflowing with excitement and her hum was catching, except for me, it came out as acute nervousness.
Luke helped his wife out of the buggy while Jeremiah jumped over the side in a motion so graceful he looked like some exotic stag. If I’d ever attempted something like that, I’d fall straight on my face with my skirts over my head. He was waiting patiently for me to exit the buggy and while I was tempted to stay right where I was until he gave up on touching me, I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his waiting family. I sighed. There was no help for it. His strong hands wrapped almost all the way around my withered waist and he lifted me down like I weighed nothing at all.
The house had been whitewashed to match the daisies and boasted darker shutters. It was a cheery little home but before I could walk up the front porch, Kristina put her fingers to her lips and held me back.
“Let them have their fun,” she mouthed like someone on the empty street would be able to hear a whisper.
A loaded look passed between the Dawson brothers, and quiet as foxes on the hunt, they crept around the back of the house with such agility the fine hairs rose on my arms. Moments later a scream came from inside the house but it was void of fear and filled with surprised delight.
Kristina grabbed my hand and dragged me up the stairs. “Now we can go.”
I tried to pry my fingers from hers, but she’d have none of it. Country folk seemed very dependent on physical assurances.
Murmuring grew louder from inside the house, and as the door opened, there Jeremiah stood, saying, “Ma, Da, Luke and I have a couple of ladies we’d like you to meet.”
With one hand behind his back and one hand offered to me, I gritted my teeth and placed my ungloved fingers in his while Kristina gave a dainty curtsey to the woman inside the doorway.
She looked absolutely shocked at the appearance of two strangers on her doorstep. She had her arm clasped tightly around Luke and elegant eyebrows knitted together as she asked, “Boy’s, are you mated?”
Mated? What a
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