“Regarding Watseka, you mean. And the firing of your property.”
“Aye. Thus far their trespassing at Hopewell Hundred is all we have.”
“Earlier today McCaskey returned alone, saying he’d given the nurse a riding lesson and she chose to continue without him. She must have met up with Laurent next.” She looked at him, knowing he was far more schooled to worldly ways than she. “Might it be a love triangle?”
“I suspect. Though I believe the nurse is the only one aware of it. I’d wager both McCaskey and Laurent are in the dark.”
“She’s in a hard place. A woman alone.” Should they not give her the benefit of the doubt? “She seems ... shrewd. Discontent. Perhaps she’s simply undecided which suitor to choose.”
“What a rosy picture you paint.” Their eyes met, his skeptical. “Though I don’t want to belittle her without cause, I feel to my marrow there’s more afoot.”
Selah squeezed his hand. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open and my mouth shut.”
They sat in silence for a time. Fireflies winged around them, tiny lights in the gloaming. Thankful as she was for this shallow moment of tranquility, all she wanted was an end to this uncertainty, the endless searches and speculations.
Turning her hand over, he kissed her palm. “For now, why not do a little trysting of our own?”
She smiled, only too glad to return to the matter of their honeymoon. “Is it true there are twins in your family?”
With a wink, he stood, bringing her to her feet. “Let’s find out.”
For the present, all else was forgotten.
Early the next morn a wagon was sent to Hopewell Hundred to bring beloved belongings and furnishings to Rose-n-Vale. Indentures roamed the main house, carrying furniture up and down stairs, turning all topsy-turvy, and the maids scurried about with feather dusters. Pulled a dozen different directions, Selah was happy to supervise her and Xander’s nest in the new wing. As there were a great many morewindows, she rejoiced. Drapes were hung, sofas and chairs and tables rearranged in the blue-and-white parlor adjoining their first-floor bedchamber.
All the while her mind remained on the possible love triangle. Standing on a stool, hanging a framed piece of art, she paid little attention when a maid said, “Mistress Renick, would you like this small clock on the mantel or here on this side table?”
Stepping off the stool, still trying to grow accustomed to her new name, Selah said, “On the table, please. I believe Master Renick wants the Venetian mirror hung over the mantel.”
Beyond the window glass came a flurry of movement in the peach orchard. Selah paused as the maids went out again to bring more items from upstairs. Was that ... the nurse? She moved toward the window, keeping to one side so she wouldn’t be seen.
There, in the heart of the orchard, stood Electa Lineboro with McCaskey. Her arms were raised as if to strike him, but his hands encircled her wrists, preventing it. She tried to pull free, but he held fast, easily overpowering her. Anger stiffened his every move, and though she fought back, even kicking him in the shin, he pulled her behind a fully leafed tree, hiding them both from view.
Was she hurt? In danger? Selah hurried out a side door and all but ran toward the peach trees, then drew up just as abruptly. Down one particularly leafy row the nurse and factor were locked in a heated embrace, as if their fighting of minutes before was naught but playacting.
Stunned, feeling hoodwinked, Selah backtracked to the main house on fast feet, nearly colliding with Widow Brodie as she entered the hall.
Exasperation showed on her aged face. “Last night a thief got into the henhouse. We’ve no eggs this day. And Cook says two prized Nankin chickens are missing.”
“The same thief that robbed the smokehouse, perhaps.”
“’Twould seem so.”
“But the dogs—”
“Out with a search party, the both of them. Alexander takes nary a precaution, not even a simple padlock on the smokehouse door. Why, I cannot fathom. Betimes I think an armed guard is needed for all this trouble of late.”
“Glad I am we’ve brought our poultry from Hopewell Hundred.” Selah gestured toward the new wing to distract her. “Come see all we’ve done this day.”
Despite Selah’s satisfaction at all they’d accomplished, she could not wash her mind of what she’d stumbled upon in the orchard. Yet what did it signify? Nothing more nefarious than a heated, stolen kiss? Had Nurse Lineboro shifted her affections from physic to factor?
When another search party turned up empty-handed in late afternoon, Selah received the news with spirits that could sink no further. Her memories of Watseka were still keen, but she feared in time they would wane like the passing of seasons, once bright but eventually turning to rust. Her ready, toothless smile. Her joyful laugh. How she’d lit up their home with her irrepressible, pint-sized self.
Lord, wilt Thou not help?
Every hour lost seemed another sad, delayed answer. Still, Selah met Xander at the riverfront door before supper with a brave face, vowing to welcome him home with a smile despite what the day dealt them.
Xander freshened up at the washstand, changed into a new linen shirt, and looked approvingly at the way Selah had arranged their bed and furnishings. Though he was little concerned with such matters, he admired her feminine touch. The tang of sawdust lingered, though all had been swept up and a colorful Persian carpet covered the pine floor. When he stepped into the adjoining parlor where she waited, ready to escort her to the dining room, she surprised him yet again.
