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The couple standing beside the fireplace turned to stare. Humiliation surged. Louise’s glass halted halfway to her mouth. Disapproval wrinkled her skin, and her gaze seemed to scream what Caroline had always suspected—you’re a mistake, a complete failure as a daughter.
She turned away and hurried for the nearest exit, desperate for privacy.
Outside, the brisk, moisture-heavy wind tugged her hair and skirts. Jogging to the stables, she made for Rain’s stall and began readying her for a ride. All she wanted was to be on her horse, climbing high into the mountains, with nothing around save for the birds and trees.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
From the aisle behind her, the rolling accent lashed at her. She didn’t have the strength to deal with Duncan right now. Not looking at him, she fought threatening tears. “Going for a ride, what does it look like?”
His boots scraped along the cobblestones as he came nearer. “Postpone it. The sky is about to unleash its fury.”
“Can’t.” She settled the thick pad across Rain’s back.
His hard hand clamped on to her arm and spun her around. In the barn’s dim interior, his eyes blazed blue brilliance. “Going out right now is a foolhardy act.”
Caroline averted her face so he couldn’t see how upset she was. “Apparently I am a fool.”
He was silent a long beat. “What?”
Injecting steel into her voice, she said, “Release me at once, Mr. McKenna. This is my horse, my choice. Besides, you don’t know this area like I do. This is a passing rain shower, nothing more.”
His hand fell away. With a muttered exclamation of displeasure, he stalked off. So she was stunned to see him on Jet minutes later, his Stetson tugged low over his eyes.
“Why—”
“Seeing as how you’re determined to go despite my warning,” he bit out, “I’m obliged to accompany you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“It’s no’ you I’m worried about. It’s the horses.”
Caroline pressed her lips into a tight line and, nudging her heels into Rain’s flank, guided her toward the woods. She didn’t want him around, but it didn’t look as if she had a choice in the matter.
The satchel flashed in her mind. Freedom from her parents’ displeasure, from her current lifestyle and her disappointment in herself, dangled like a rare, delicious fruit ripe for the picking. There was no reason to stick around any longer. Leaving Gatlinburg was the answer to her problems.
* * *
The deeper into the mountains they traveled, the more convinced Duncan became that their outing would end in disaster. Like a whistling locomotive, the wind barreled through the shallow valley, whipping the trees rooted into the steep inclines on either side into a frenzy. Both horses were on edge. If either of them had possessed nervous dispositions, he or Caroline would’ve already been tossed from the saddle. The strip of sky visible above them was a churning, purple-gray mass of impending doom.
Anger simmered beneath his thin veneer of control. Caroline rode ahead of him, as silent and stiff as a marble statue. Maureen had acted similarly whenever she was miffed, which had been often. When he proposed again, it would be to a sweet, easy-to-please lass of poor means. Money complicated matters.
“What’s put a bee in your bonnet?” he called. “Someone not act as you wished them to?”
The slope of her shoulders went rigid, but she didn’t answer him.
“Whatever’s upset you, ’tisna worth risking the horses. Let’s turn back.”
She angled her head so that he could see her profile. “I didn’t ask you to accompany me. Leave if you want. I’m not ready.”
A raindrop splattered on his sleeve. Shifting his Stetson up his forehead, he eyed the sky again. On a typical midsummer evening, they’d have several hours of daylight left. Not this night.
“It will be dark soon.” He tried to reason with her. “We don’t have lanterns.”
Frowning, she lifted her head to the heavens. Was she finally going to act sensibly?
“You don’t wish any harm to come to the horses, do you?” he tacked on.
With a low command, Caroline brought Rain to a halt. He did the same with Jet, smoothing his palm along the animal’s quivering muscles.
“I suppose we have no choice, do we?”
The resignation in her voice aroused questions. When she circled around, he glimpsed the depth of her melancholy. Something was troubling her. Something more than a mix-up with the hors d’oeuvres or a snag in her stockings.
Rain began to fall in discordant patterns. Tugging his brim lower, he said, “Stay close. We may have to find shelter if this gets out of hand.”
Not waiting for her response, he maneuvered Jet around on the tight path. Thunder roiled through the valley. The storm wasn’t on them yet. Seeking God’s assistance, he prayed they’d reach the Turners’ safe and sound. The clouds opened up, releasing sheets of moisture that drenched him in seconds. Riding behind him on the trail, Caroline was unprotected in her fancy evening gown.
Duncan didn’t have time to worry about her comfort. Squinting to see his way ahead, he searched for the rocky outcrop they’d passed fifteen minutes earlier. No point trying to continue in this onslaught. They’d wait out the storm until it was safe to ride again.
He glanced over his shoulder every few minutes. While her misery and worry were apparent, she remained in control of her horse, and he admitted she was an adept horsewoman. One point in her favor.
The thunder pealed again and, this time, the intensity of it shook the ground. Jet balked. Duncan tightened his grip on the reins. Lightning cracked like a whip, striking a tree close to the path. Caroline screamed.
Twisting in the saddle, Duncan found his chest seizing with horror as Rain reared, front hooves slashing the air, eyes rolling in their sockets and nostrils flaring. And suddenly Caroline was sliding off. Rain’s rear leg caught the lip of the path, the soft earth crumbling beneath her hoof. The large gray went down, taking Caroline with her.
“Caroline!”
Vaulting to the ground, he paused long enough to secure Jet to a tree limb before scrambling down the slight slope. The interwoven treetops above kept some of the rain at bay. Soaked to the skin and splattered with mud, she struggled to sit.
He crouched beside her, searching for visible injuries. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Her wince communicated otherwise. “Please, see to my horse.”
Duncan twisted and saw Rain farther below them. She was on her feet, at least.
“Are you sure nothing’s broken?” He turned back. “What about your head? Did you strike it?”
Her hair hung like twisted wet cords and her eyes were large and anxious in her pale face. “I’m bruised, that’s all.”
Thunder rumbled through the valley again. Duncan hurried to check on her horse. A gash the size of his fist had opened up her side, likely from a broken-off tree limb. It was deep and raw and would be prone to infection. A fresh wave of anger washed over him. A fine, dependable animal was hurt because of Caroline’s selfishness.
She navigated the slippery terrain to join him, her hands skimming the horse’s good side. “Is she all right?”
“I’m afraid not,” he gritted. “Take a look for yourself.”
Her forehead crinkled in bewilderment. Coming around to where he stood, she saw the injury and gasped. “Oh, Rain.” Her arms went around the horse’s neck, and she buried her face in the gray coat.
Duncan hardened his heart. This was her fault. She’d disregarded his warning, and her horse had gotten injured because of it.
The storm’s fury intensified. The sky lit up with successive lightning streaks. Tethered to the distant tree, Jet pranced to the side and tossed his head.
“Let’s get these horses out of the elements.”
A shudder racked her. Moisture clung to her exposed shoulders and arms. Taking hold of the reins and speaking in soothing tones, she led Rain up the ridge.
* * *
Cold leached into her from the rock against which she was wedged. Her head resting on her bent knees, face hidden in the dirty layers of her skirt, she was mired in shame. Beneath the rocky outcrop he’d discovered, Duncan stood apart from her, preferring the horses’ company to hers. She didn’t blame him.
The thunder and lightning had grown distant, but the rain’s relentless pursuit remained constant. It pounded the earth, splattering mud in all directions. At least here, in this cramped space, they’d have the chance to dry out before heading home.
She couldn’t stop shaking. The scene replayed in her mind yet again, the lightning striking within feet of them, the sensation of falling through the air and slamming into the ground, expecting to be crushed at any moment beneath her horse. She offered up a prayer of thanksgiving that Rain hadn’t suffered a life-threatening injury. If she’d broken a leg or dislocated a shoulder, Caroline would’ve been returning home without her.
There was still a possibility of infection. She’d never forgive herself if that happened. And neither would Duncan. Caught up in her problems, she’d ignored his advice and put them all at risk.
The weight of her burdens threatened to suffocate her. Her father’s indifference, her mother’s disappointment, Theo’s scorn and Duncan’s contempt congealed into a single, sharp accusation. Caroline couldn’t please any of them. The need to be far from Gatlinburg was a living, breathing thing.
Registering movement, she kept her head down until Duncan sank to the ground and nudged her.
“Here. Put this on.”
Threading the damp strands out of her eyes, she focused on the bundle of material. Darkness had fallen. His features were wreathed in shadows, his eyes gleaming and the crimson-red undershirt snug against his upper body.
“It’s no’ completely dry,” he said with a hint of impatience. “But at least you’ll be covered.”
She slipped her arms into the too-long sleeves of his shirt and overlapped the side panels over her midriff. A cedar scent clung to the fabric. “Thank you.”
He shifted his legs and, resting his forearms on his bent knees, linked his hands. The man took up a lot of space. He was big and close, his upper arm butted against her shoulder, and Caroline was acutely aware of their seclusion. His body generated blessed heat that she yearned to share in. She glanced over, inexplicably fascinated by the patterns of faint veins on the backs of his hands, the thickness of his wrists and the fine spattering of freckles on his corded forearms. Regardless of the enmity that existed between them, Caroline accepted that the rugged Scotsman affected her on a level she hadn’t before experienced. She would’ve liked to trace those freckles, test the texture of the fine auburn hairs and curl her hand into his, drawing strength from him when her own seemed to have failed her.
“As soon as the rain stops, I’ll search for kindling that isn’t completely waterlogged and try and start a fire. ’Twill be a long night.”
Disquiet muddled her thoughts. The fact that spending time alone with Duncan didn’t bother her set off alarm bells. Admit it. He fascinates you.
“We can’t stay here.”
He swiveled his head her direction. “There’s no moon, and we dinnae have lanterns. I’m no’ about to risk further harm to the horses or ourselves to satisfy your whims.”
Hurt lanced through her. “My parents will be searching for me.”
“Let them. Unlike us, they’ll be prepared to travel by night.”
Caroline stared straight ahead, trying to picture her parents in a panic. She couldn’t quite manage it. Would they even try and locate her? Or would their guests’ comfort trump hers?
She twisted her hands into a tight ball. “Rain’s going to be okay, right?”
“As long as we’re diligent in her care, I’d say she has a good prognosis.” His voice was brusque, his manner aloof.
Caroline’s mind explored the nine years of friendship she’d shared with Rain. Her heart squeezed with regret.
“I’m sorry,” she managed to say in a strangled voice. “I should’ve listened to you.”
“Feeling sorry won’t change anything. ’Tis a hard lesson you need to learn, Caroline Turner. The world doesn’t spin on your orders. Cease thinking of yourself first, and mayhap another accident like this can be avoided.”
Chapter Five (#uc2a5bf7e-f825-58ca-b2ee-36a6e762e345)
Something coarse swatted his face. Duncan registered hard, mineral-rich earth beneath his cheek and, blinking open gritty eyes, frowned at the nearness of a horse’s hoof. Levering himself to a sitting position, he noted the purple and pink fingers stretching across the dawn sky. The spot where Caroline had been was empty. Jet and Rain stood there, poor excuses for chaperones. He hadn’t meant to drift to sleep, had only closed his eyes for a moment, thinking to rest until the storm abated.
Shifting, his stiff neck protesting movement, he spotted her in the distance. When she’d left the cover of their outcrop, he hadn’t a clue. She was seated on a dead tree with her back to him, her shoulders hunched forward, her head bowed. Her white-blond hair spilled halfway down her back, a beacon in the dim light.
Duncan stood and stretched the kinks from his body, silently praying for the Lord to grant him patience. A bit of compassion wouldn’t hurt, either. Not that long ago, he’d shared Caroline Turner’s outlook, a fact that shamed him and was probably the reason she burrowed beneath his skin like an irritating splinter.
Inhaling a cleansing breath of rain-freshened forest, he approached, navigating the muddy ground with care.
“Good mornin’.”
Caroline’s head whipped up. Her eyes told the story of her misery. She was in a bedraggled state. Below where his heather-gray shirt swallowed her top half, her seafoam green skirts were wrinkled, soiled and torn in places. Her hair was uncombed and limp. And yet, she was lovelier in this moment than he’d ever seen her.
Unsettled by the thought, Duncan spoke more gruffly than he’d intended. “You should’ve woken me.”
Her wretchedness intensified. “My eagerness to get home has waned since last evening.” She picked at the dirt beneath her nails. “I’m not looking forward to explaining all this to my parents.”
A frisson of unease slithered along his spine. As a newcomer, he didn’t have a solid reputation built up to support his word. Caroline was his employer’s only child. And she’d already complained about him to Albert. Kneading the knots in his neck, he tried not to think about the possible ramifications of the night they’d passed in isolation. The two most obvious scenarios involved irate men with guns running him out of town or, worse, a preacher ready to perform a wedding ceremony. He’d take the men with guns any day.
“No use delaying the inevitable.”
With a slow nod, she took her time getting up.
Duncan moved closer. “You said you weren’t hurt.”
Her features were drawn. “I’m bruised. Nothing’s broken.”
Worry lodged in his chest, taking him by surprise. “The ride back willnae be comfortable, I’m afraid.”
“I know.”
At least she wasn’t a whiner. Maureen would’ve been assaulting his ears with complaints he could do nothing about.
The journey wasn’t easy for either of them. They’d agreed to ride together in order make it more bearable for Rain. The rigid way Caroline held herself testified to her discomfort, as did her frequent, sudden inhales as Jet navigated the uneven terrain. As for Duncan, his concentration was all but shattered. Riding with an alluring female in his arms wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence.
Her hair tickled his nose, causing him to sneeze. His chin and her skull had connected so many times he’d ceased murmuring apologies. The worst was whenever the terrain sloped unexpectedly, and her bare, smooth hands latched on to his, holding on for dear life. By the time his cabin came into view, Duncan was ready to spring from the saddle.
She stirred from her quiet contemplation. “Maybe we should part ways here.”
“We’ll endure the inquisition together.”
“It will look better if I arrive alone.”
“My mother raised me to be a gentleman, Miss Turner. Besides, your father will have questions for me.”
