Read Online Lorraine Heath by Always To Remember - Free Book Online
Authors: Always To Remember
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Warner. Hesitantly, he nodded. “He wanted you to be happy.”
“I was after we moved in with Mama Warner. She made me feel so welcome.”
“She makes everyone feel that way. Do you see her much anymore?” Clay asked, knowing she’d moved back to her father’s house after Kirk left for the war.
Meg smiled, the first genuine smile he’d seen on her face since the day war began. He wanted to cut it into stone right then and there so he could keep it forever. He was certain she’d given it to him by mistake.
“As a matter of fact, I went by her house this morning. That’s why I was late. I told her if anyone asks, she’s to say I’m spending a few days with her, but she doesn’t know where I am at the moment. She’ll stretch the truth and never ask me why she needs to.”
Clay had wondered how she planned to travel with him without her father coming to lynch him. “So your father thinks you’re spending a few days with Mama Warner?”
“Yes, only I’m spending the time with you.”
As though just realizing that she’d condemned herself to his company, she stopped smiling, hardened her gaze, and turned her attention to the road ahead.
Sighing deeply, he looked at the narrow ribbon of dirt that wagon wheels had cut from the land over the years. The road seemed to stretch into eternity.
At twilight, Clay drew the wagon off the road and guided the mule to a nearby clearing.
Meg dismounted, pressed her forehead against the saddle, closed her eyes, and sighed heavily. Clay’s presence irritated her more than she’d imagined it would, in ways she’d never expected. The soft, secretive smile that eased onto his face when he found something amusing caused her to ache for all the smiles of the past, to mourn for all the smiles that would never be in her future.
And apparently he’d found her quite amusing this morning when he’d talked about Kirk. What had Kirk told him?
“Want me to see after your horse?” Clay asked.
Opening one eye, she peered at him. He looked as tired as she felt. “No.”
He set a bucket of water within the mare’s reach. “There’s feed in the wagon,” he said before walking away.
She tended her mare, removing the saddle and bridle, and hobbling her for the night. She retrieved the feed from the large sturdy wagon. She supposed the Hollands had built it specifically to haul stone.
Clay unhitched and hobbled the mule, although Meg didn’t think the mule would wander away. In her entire life, she’d never seen an animal move as slowly as that mule. She supposed the army had confiscated the Hollands’ horses. Her family had given so many men to the Cause that the army hadn’t asked for their livestock, although Meg would have gladly given it.
“I’ll fetch some supper,” Clay said as he pulled his rifle from beneath the wagon seat.
Meg’s first reaction was to say she’d fend for herself, but she felt too weary. She’d compromise slightly tonight: while he hunted, she’d build the fire. As she walked away from the camp, he fell into step behind her. She stopped abruptly, turned, and glared at him. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.
“I don’t think you ought to be traipsing through these woods alone.”
She patted the gun handle visible above the waistband of her trousers. “I’m only going to find some dry wood. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can. It’s just—”
“I’ve had enough of your company today. I don’t want you to follow me.”
“Will you holler if you need me?”
“No. I have no reason to believe you’d come. You didn’t go when the Confederacy hollered for more men.”
He narrowed his eyes to tiny slits, and his jaw grew so rigid she didn’t know how he managed to force the word “Fine” out through his mouth. She caught the tail end of a harsh curse as he stalked to the other side of the clearing and disappeared into the thick woods.
She was glad to see him leave. She truly was. With any
“I was after we moved in with Mama Warner. She made me feel so welcome.”
“She makes everyone feel that way. Do you see her much anymore?” Clay asked, knowing she’d moved back to her father’s house after Kirk left for the war.
Meg smiled, the first genuine smile he’d seen on her face since the day war began. He wanted to cut it into stone right then and there so he could keep it forever. He was certain she’d given it to him by mistake.
“As a matter of fact, I went by her house this morning. That’s why I was late. I told her if anyone asks, she’s to say I’m spending a few days with her, but she doesn’t know where I am at the moment. She’ll stretch the truth and never ask me why she needs to.”
Clay had wondered how she planned to travel with him without her father coming to lynch him. “So your father thinks you’re spending a few days with Mama Warner?”
“Yes, only I’m spending the time with you.”
As though just realizing that she’d condemned herself to his company, she stopped smiling, hardened her gaze, and turned her attention to the road ahead.
Sighing deeply, he looked at the narrow ribbon of dirt that wagon wheels had cut from the land over the years. The road seemed to stretch into eternity.
At twilight, Clay drew the wagon off the road and guided the mule to a nearby clearing.
Meg dismounted, pressed her forehead against the saddle, closed her eyes, and sighed heavily. Clay’s presence irritated her more than she’d imagined it would, in ways she’d never expected. The soft, secretive smile that eased onto his face when he found something amusing caused her to ache for all the smiles of the past, to mourn for all the smiles that would never be in her future.
And apparently he’d found her quite amusing this morning when he’d talked about Kirk. What had Kirk told him?
“Want me to see after your horse?” Clay asked.
Opening one eye, she peered at him. He looked as tired as she felt. “No.”
He set a bucket of water within the mare’s reach. “There’s feed in the wagon,” he said before walking away.
She tended her mare, removing the saddle and bridle, and hobbling her for the night. She retrieved the feed from the large sturdy wagon. She supposed the Hollands had built it specifically to haul stone.
Clay unhitched and hobbled the mule, although Meg didn’t think the mule would wander away. In her entire life, she’d never seen an animal move as slowly as that mule. She supposed the army had confiscated the Hollands’ horses. Her family had given so many men to the Cause that the army hadn’t asked for their livestock, although Meg would have gladly given it.
“I’ll fetch some supper,” Clay said as he pulled his rifle from beneath the wagon seat.
Meg’s first reaction was to say she’d fend for herself, but she felt too weary. She’d compromise slightly tonight: while he hunted, she’d build the fire. As she walked away from the camp, he fell into step behind her. She stopped abruptly, turned, and glared at him. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.
“I don’t think you ought to be traipsing through these woods alone.”
She patted the gun handle visible above the waistband of her trousers. “I’m only going to find some dry wood. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can. It’s just—”
“I’ve had enough of your company today. I don’t want you to follow me.”
“Will you holler if you need me?”
“No. I have no reason to believe you’d come. You didn’t go when the Confederacy hollered for more men.”
He narrowed his eyes to tiny slits, and his jaw grew so rigid she didn’t know how he managed to force the word “Fine” out through his mouth. She caught the tail end of a harsh curse as he stalked to the other side of the clearing and disappeared into the thick woods.
She was glad to see him leave. She truly was. With any
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