and coffee would be served in the parlor. Duncan intercepted her reluctant glance his way and decided to offer his thanks for the meal and return to his cabin. While Albert and the other couples had made him feel welcome, the Turner females would clearly like to be rid of him. His proud Scottish heritage welled inside him. In his younger years, he would’ve stayed to spite them. He’d changed in more ways than one. No use sticking around where he wasn’t wanted.
* * *
Duncan hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He’d come inside to discuss the ordering of supplies when he’d heard Caroline utter his name. In the hallway outside Albert’s study, he hesitated, debating whether to step into the open doorway and announce his presence or leave the way he’d come.
“Why him?” she lamented. “Why not hire someone local?”
“Because no one local has his qualifications.” Exasperation colored his tone. “George had been struggling the last few years to accomplish his tasks. I kept him on as a courtesy. McKenna’s just the man to restore things to their rightful order.”
“Father, you haven’t heard the way he speaks to me. Mr. McKenna has the manners of a...of a...” she said, floundering. “He’s infuriating!”
Holding his hat in his hands, Duncan fought his rising temper, fingers crushing the crown. How dare she? If she cost him this job... Of course, there’d be others. But he’d just got here. He wanted to explore, meet the locals. Rest from his long journey over the mountains separating North Carolina and Tennessee.
“He seems like a perfectly reasonable man to me. Has he made untoward advances?”
Silence. Duncan’s whole body tensed. If she lied, he’d be run out of town.
“No,” she said at last.
His head fell back and he offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving.
“Give it some time.” Albert’s leather chair creaked. “This time next week, you’ll be too busy entertaining our guests to exchange more than a dozen words with him. Your mother tells me Theo Marsh is looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Mother is engaging in wishful thinking.” She made a huff of displeasure. “What about after everyone leaves? How am I supposed to go about my daily life with him around, waiting to antagonize me?”
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating. Duncan comes on the highest recommendation. We need him.”
“But—”
“I suggest you apply your energy to what you do best—parting me from my money.”
Duncan pivoted and walked lightly down the hall, bent on escape. Anger firing his blood, he pushed into the sunshine and smashed his hat on his head. He felt like kicking something. Or planting his fist into a wall. He settled for hefting grain sacks from the delivery wagon to the feed room. The physical labor helped expend the resentment burning through his veins. He was mucking out the stalls when she strode through the entrance.
“Why are you doing Anthony’s job?”
The temper he’d wrestled with his entire life begged to be let loose. Calling on his self-control, he tunneled the pitchfork into the straw.
“Why does it bother you?” he bit out.
“Forget I asked.”
He continued working while she saddled her mare. As she made to lead Rain outside, he couldn’t maintain his silence any longer. Fingers still curled about the pitchfork, he moved into the aisle. She slowed, her demeanor wary.
“I heard you talking to your father about me.”
Color brushed her cheekbones. “You were eavesdropping?”
“That wasnae my intent, I assure you. Nevertheless, I heard what you said, and I want you to know I plan on keeping this job. I’m no’ keen on traversing those mountains again anytime soon.”
Averting her face, she caressed Rain’s neck. “I realize you have to earn a living,” she conceded. “And since my father is resolved to keep you around, I suggest we agree to steer clear of each other.”
Surprise stilled his tongue. She was offering a practical solution?
He became enthralled by the affection shining in her eyes as she gazed at her beloved horse. What would it be like if she were to turn that affection on him? Yearning arced through him like a bolt of lightning, rooting him to the ground. He didn’t like Caroline, so why entertain such thoughts about her?
Had to be loneliness. He’d broken off his engagement to Maureen Craig a few weeks before he’d left Boston, which was well over a year ago now. He hadn’t courted a woman since. Of late, he’d been thinking more often about finding a wife, settling into married life and starting a family.
He cleared his throat. “I, ah, believe that’s reasonable.”
Their gazes meshed, and he found himself searching for answers. What made this woman tick? Was there more depth to her than he’d first thought?
“Then we have an agreement,” she said. “You stay out of my way, and I stay out of yours.”
His fingers curled into the wooden handle. “Aye.”
Focused on her exit from the building, he didn’t hear Wendell approach and nearly jumped out of his skin when the man spoke directly behind him.
“You misunderstand Miss Caroline.”
Turning around, he said, “Good morning, Wendell. Can I help you with something?”
Wendell’s brown-black gaze was knowing. “Miss Caroline is like a cactus fruit. Prickly on the outside but soft and sweet on the inside.”
“There’s nothing sweet about that woman.”
“A wise man learns to look beyond the obvious. She hasn’t had an easy life.” His attention moved beyond Duncan’s shoulder to the grand Victorian-style house visible through the entrance, the sun bathing its green exterior and white trim in golden light.
Duncan had sensed that all was not well between Caroline and her parents. Didn’t mean she had the right to treat others, mainly him, as if they were the dirt beneath her high-priced boots. Being around Caroline was like looking into a window to his past. He used to think like her. Before he’d become a follower of Jesus, he’d bought the lie that earthly riches and achievements gave him value. He’d treated those he considered his equals with respect. Those who were poorer, who were of the working class or not members of the right family, he’d ignored altogether. He cringed with shame every time he thought about his boorish behavior.
“Give her a chance,” Wendell advised, bringing him back to the present.
The man’s words stuck with him the rest of the day. As the days rolled past, he couldn’t get them out of his head. Was she hiding her true self behind that aloof exterior? Or was she exactly what she presented to the world?
Disgusted with his preoccupation, he went out of his way to avoid her. A week passed without them having to exchange more than a simple greeting. There were no more dinners in the Turner
