He stepped out on the porch, and Kizzie followed behind. “I ought to tell you that Boss, the Chappells’ dog, is in the barn. Joshua brought him over last night to stay with me in the house and suggested I put him in the barn to guard the animals in case …”
Charles jerked his gaze in the direction of the barn. “He won't need to be in the house tonight.”
Without another word, he marched off the porch toward his gig, and Kizzie retreated back into the warmth of the house. What was happening? And why did her body tremble with the thought of him staying overnight again? She'd always wanted to spend time with him in the past, always craved his attention and touch, but, well, for the first time, she wasn't sure.
Her attention fell on the covered tin on the stove in the next room, and she made quick work of moving it to a part of the stove that was still warm and then changed Charlie.
She placed her sleepy boy in his cradle and slipped to the kitchen, bringing two plates to the little table just as Charles reentered the house via the back door, his arms laden with brown-paper packages.
“What on earth?” Kizzie set the plates down and rushed to his assistance. “These don't look like jars of jam.”
His grin spread into the one she'd idolized since first sight. “Well, there are jams among the packages, and a ham. But I also brought a few gifts.”
“Gifts?” She removed the jars from beneath his arms. “But Christmas isn't for a few days yet.”
The gentleness in his expression dimmed a little. “You know how bad I am at keeping secrets, and I thought you could do with a little cheering up after all that's happened this week.”
For her? To cheer her? Sweet warmth swelled into her cheeks, and she looked away. “I appreciate you being here a whole lot more than any gifts, Charles.”
His smile fell altogether then, and he cleared his throat as he walked past her into the sitting room. “Well, maybe this will tide you over until the two of us can spend more time together.” He gestured with his chin for her to follow. “Let's eat first, and then I'd love to see you open your gifts while Charlie's still asleep.”
She settled into conversation with him, listening to him talk about some renovations to the house and recent business dealings. During the latter, a shadow passed across his face. “We're losing tenants to more of the businesses and factories in nearby towns because folks can earn enough to buy cheap housing near their work. I had to sell off fifty acres last month to offset costs and also have enough to complete renovations on the house.”
“I imagine lots of tenants would be interested in purchasing their own land, if you wanted to get back some money that way, and they'd be more likely to stay.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if their payments to you went toward ownership instead of renting the house and property, they'd be more likely to stay where they are. Most folks want a place that belongs to them.”
He gave his head a shake. “I'm not sure I want most of the tenants to own land around me. I can either send the troublemakers away, if I own the land, or threaten to in order to control their behavior.”
“But what about the good ones? The ones who've worked for you for years and only helped your business?”
He leaned back in his chair and took a drink of his coffee, his frown deepening. “No, it's a pretty idea, but you don't know how business works. It could end in disaster.”
“Ownership creates loyalty, Charles. I saw it, growing up in the mountains. If people feel like they're valued and have an investment in their work, they're gonna work harder and be more content.”
“No, let's not argue.” His smile returned. “I know your heart's in the right place, but that just won't do.” He stood and walked to a nearby chair where he'd placed his packages. “But it does make me think of one of the gifts I have for you.”
Kizzie usually ignored his dismissiveness. After all, she didn't understand all the aspects of his business, but during their relationship, he'd shared many things with her. Paired with her own observations as a housemaid, her experience working for Mrs. Cappy, and conversations with her daddy, Kizzie knew enough to at least entertain solid ideas.
But Charles’ disinterest in these particular suggestions stemmed less from Kizzie's thoughts being impossible and perhaps more from the fact that Charles liked the class differences between himself and his tenants.
She'd never noticed it before.
Power. Maybe even a sense of deserving.
And certainly a desire for control.
It didn't make him a bad person, but it certainly took a little more of the shine off the man she'd given her heart to all those months ago.
Is that why he chose her and their secret relationship? Control? Her heart pulsed in pain at the idea. No, not completely. She knew he cared, at least in part, but … A switch flipped in her mind.
What if he sought to control others because he held such little control where his mama was concerned? Certainly, controlling the tenants gave him a sense of power. And managing any produce sold from the property held power.
Her throat tightened.
And choosing a woman his mother so blatantly refused not only held power but bucked against her control.
