Keturah’s breath hitched, and she slid a glance up at Daniel. He did love her, right? The kindness, humor, and physical affection that he showered upon her spokeof love, and yet, the word had never slipped from his lips. Keturah frowned. She knew so little of men and their minds.
Daniel’s brows knit together as he turned to face her, pulling her into his arms. “What is concerning you, my love?”
Keturah’s lips parted and time stilled as they both registered his endearment. She searched Daniel’s wide eyes. Had he meant to say it?
His expression softened, and his mouth eased into a smile. He pulled her closer into him. “It is about time that you knew that I do indeed love you.” He brought his hand up and gently caressed her cheek with his thumb.
Keturah closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “I love ye too.” The whispered words slipped effortlessly from her mouth.
“Oh, Keturah, my love.” Daniel’s lips met hers in a gentle yet sensual kiss that caused her insides to swirl and had her pressing up onto her toes, into him. She had never imagined marriage could be like this.
Daniel pulled away all too soon. He reached into the pocket of his dashing black waistcoat and withdrew a small pouch. Keturah leaned forward as he pulled a ring from its depths. Daniel held it up for her in the moonlight. She sucked in a breath. It was exquisite, like none she had ever seen. Multiple stones in the middle made the appearance of a flower, nestled between two intricate roses. “It was Nanny’s mother’s. She gave it tome before I left.” He took her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. “And now, it is yours. I should have given it to you the moment we were married, but I wanted it to be a symbol of our love, not just of a convenience marriage.”
Keturah leaned into Daniel, her hands spread on his chest. “’Tis perfect.” She rewarded him with a long kiss, one hand venturing into the hair at his nape. Would this man ever cease to amaze her?
July 28, 1782
Daniel stifled a yawn as he shuffled through the open doorway of the almost-complete barn to the pen where the pig was kept. He carried the remnants of breakfast in the slop bucket, to be dumped in with the hungry animal. However, as Daniel neared the stall door, he stopped in his tracks.
“Gilly?” He repeated the name he had heard Keturah use for the pig as he approached and peered into the dark, damp stall. His nose curled at the foul smell, but it was not the cause for the concern that gripped his middle. When no movement met his eyes or ears, he stepped inside and quickly swept his gaze over the small room to ensure he had not missed the animal. Nothing but mud. A groan slipped from his chest.
Their pig, which was well past due for giving birth, was gone. And it was his fault. It had to be. He had been the last one to take the slop out to her the night before. He checked the bar on the gate. Had he not properly shut the door? He flattened his mouth and ran a hand through his hair. It was the only explanation. And one he did not look forward to sharing with his wife.
Perhaps it would be better if he attempted to locate the animal and return her home before alerting Keturah to his latest failure. A sigh slipped from Daniel as he considered raising her ire. He and Keturah had grown quite close as he proved himself adequate in the construction of the barn. He did not wish to harm the relationship that had formed between them, still so new and fragile. And that meant finding the pig before his wife knew she was missing.
Daniel set the slop bucket in front of the stall and stepped outside, glancing around. “Gilly! Here, girl,” he called and paused to listen. He banked around the edge of the building, calling for the animal before he moved onto the garden and cornfield. Over and over he called, but nowhere did he spy the large pink-and-black pig. He gazed across the valley meadow with his hands on his hips. The sun warmed his back. How far could such a rotund animal with such stubby legs have gone in only one night?
Moving into the shade of the tree line, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called up the hillbehind the cabin. But only the breeze ruffled the green plants of the underbrush.
“What is all that hollerin’ about?”
Daniel stopped in his tracks at the sound of Keturah’s voice. Grimacing, he turned on his heel to face the wrath of his wife. She stood beside the cabin, drying her hands on her apron. A pucker had formed between her eyebrows, and her lips were drawn.
“The pig has escaped.”
Keturah’s eyes widened, and her hands froze in her apron. “What?”
“The pig. I must not have latched the stall door properly, for it was open when I came out here, and she seems to be missing.” He gestured wide with his arms.
Keturah took a step toward him. “Daniel! She is overdue with them piglets! I had her in the barn for a reason!”
Daniel’s mouth firmed. As soon as the walls were in place, he and Keturah had moved the pig, which normally roamed freely, into the barn for monitoring. Though it was an honest mistake, he had failed his wife. “I understand that. And I am trying to find her.” He did not mean for his voice to come out as tight as it did, and it earned a glare from Keturah.
Would he ever stop disappointing people?
CHAPTER 9
How could Daniel have been so careless? Keturah’s blood boiled as she stared at the open stall door, her hands on her hips. Her foot tapped as she surveyed the ground in search of clues as to where the pig had gone. She was to be a first-time mother and should have already delivered. Undue stress could be disastrous. Not to mention, the much-needed income that would be lost if she and her piglets were never found.
Keturah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She would not think about that yet.
But as she stared at the ground, her mouth twisted. Not only had her husband left the gate open for the pig to escape, but he had trampled all over the tracks leading from the stall. Keturah did her best to follow them, but with the weather having been dry, the gilt had left little trace. Still, she was positive she wasfollowing in the correct direction. That was, until she reached the grass outside the barn. As she looked up, her heart plummeted. The animal could have gone anywhere from here.
Still, she forged ahead. “This way,” she called to Daniel, who stood in the barn doorway, and waved her hand.
Keturah did not wait around to see if he followed. Instead, she marched across the grass, still wet with the morning dew, and into the woods. “Gilly!” She called out the nickname she had given the animal. Her gaze alternated between scanning the underbrush for movement and searching the ground before her for some clue as to if the animal had been through there. When she spied a broken twig, she knelt to examine it further. Near it were other sticks that showed evidence of a rooting animal.
“Gilly!”
