Page 9 of The Heart’s Charge

Katherine followed the line of hand to arm to shoulder until her gaze reached the face of the man whose hearing had always been far too keen for her peace of mind. How had she forgotten that the very ability that made him such an excellent musician also made him an unbelievably gifted eavesdropper?

“If you need more, I can get it.”

More? He had just shoved twenty dollars in her face.

“Sarah deserves the best care. Whatever she needs, I’ll see she gets it.” His jaw was set at a mulish angle, as if he expected her to argue.

The girl she used to be would have. She’d never been one to accept charity, after all, not even in the form of well-meant marriage proposals. But there was no room for personal pride when it came to providing for the children in her care.

“Thank you,” she said. “That’s very generous.” She tipped her head and grinned at him. “Sarah, huh? After your mother?”

The defensiveness melted from his expression, and one corner of his mouth crooked up. “She’s always hounding me in her letters about getting married and giving her grandchildren.” He shrugged. “This might be the closest I get to giving her what she wants. Figured I’d name the little lady in her honor.”

Katherine barely made out the end of his explanation over the sudden roar of blood pumping furiously through her veins.

Mark Wallace wasn’t married.

CHAPTER

FIVE

If there was one thing Eliza Southerland could recognize on sight, it was trouble. And the man smiling at Katherine as if she were the sugar in his coffee had Trouble written all over him. Abner had mentioned their visitor was someone Katherine knew from back East, but this was more than knowin’. This was personal history. Romantic history, if she didn’t miss her guess. Eliza’s hackles rose. Katherine’s tender soul had suffered enough damage over the last decade. She didn’t need some sweet-talkin’, woman-leavin’ man adding new scars to her heart.

Katherine wasn’t like Eliza. She hadn’t built up callouses around her heart to keep the hurt out. She bled far too easily. Eliza had spotted tears in her friend’s eyes yesterday when four-year-old Ted scraped his knee, for pity’s sake. Katherine had too much backbone for this Wallace fellow to break her, but he could inflict serious bruising. A situation Eliza aimed to avoid. Loyal companions were a rare commodity on this earth, and she wasn’t about to let some slick charmer hack away at the happiness of one of the truest friends Eliza had ever known.

It was time to get these fellows on their way.

“I’ll hitch up the wagon,” Eliza said, even though she could tell Katherine was only half listening. “Pack up a handful of extra diapers and a change of clothes for Miss Sarah, then meet me in the yard. The sooner she feeds on real milk, the better.”

Katherine tore her gaze away from Mr. Wallace and put it back on the baby. “All right.”

Satisfied, Eliza marched out of the room, her strides sharp.

The quiet fellow leaning against the wall inside the doorway fell into step behind her as she exited. “I’ll join you.”

“I can manage,” she said in a tone designed to discourage without being rude.

“I’m sure you can,” the irritating fellow responded, purposely ignoring her wishes by continuing to follow.

Once outside on the front porch, Eliza spun to face him. “Look, Mister . . .” Shoot. She didn’t know his name. Abner had only informed her about Mr. Wallace.

His right eyebrow lifted slightly. He didn’t smile. Nor did his eyes crinkle. But something about that twitching brow made her feel as if he found her lack of knowledge amusing. “Jonah Brooks.”

“Eliza Southerland.” The introduction slipped out automatically, her Southern manners apparently too ingrained to bypass. Even though her Western brain insisted that the less she and this stranger knew about each other, the easier things would be.

He dipped his chin. “Miss Southerland.”

“As much as I appreciate you and Mr. Wallace bringing the babe to us, there is no need to linger.” Unwilling to allow this conversation to slow down her progress, she continued her explanation by tossing words over her shoulder as she resumed her march down the steps. “Miss Palmer and I are well-versed in situations such as these, and I can assure you that young Sarah will receive the very best—ack!”

Eliza reared back and nearly fell on her rump. The largest horse she’d ever seen clipped the side of her head with its nose. Pulse racing, she stuttered backward a few steps and fought to rein in her fright.

Don’t be a ninny. It’s just a horse.

A decidedly large, muscular, could-trample-her-with-one-hoof-tied-behind-its-back horse, but still—just a horse.

“Are you all right?” All amusement had left Mr. Brooks’s face.

He immediately moved between her and the oversized beast and placed a hand on her back. The warmth of his palm afforded a level of comfort she hadn’t expected.