Annabelle and Heaven snuggled under the blankets, and it was almost like when they were younger. Except for Angel was asleep in the middle and they were on the floor, not a soft bed.
“Good-looking man, even with that scar.… I’ve been thinking, Heaven, that it’s not a good idea for you to be staying out here with that man by yourself.”
“What?” Annabelle had been talking while Heaven was thinking about kissing Travis again. Daydreaming could be a dangerous thing or a delicious one. She just wasn’t sure which it was when it came to Travis.
“With Travis?”
“But what will people say? It’s so improper.” Annabelle stuck her cold feet against Heaven’s leg. “Annabelle, your feet!”
“Sorry.” She pulled them back. “Have you thought about that?”
“Of course I have. No one really knows us here, and things have changed since the war.”
“Not that much, Heaven. What about the people in church?”
“The preacher was okay with him staying in the barn since he’s a doctor. He’s been helping around here because of my ankle.” Heaven squirmed, trying to get comfortable. Then she turned on her stomach and squished her straw pillow. It just was not as comfortable as the down-filled pillows she had grown up with. She flipped back on her back. “As for church, we haven’t been going. It’s a long walk, and with Angel not able to see …”
“That is just an excuse. It seems to me that Angel is handling her lack of sight just fine.” She propped her head up on one hand.
“I realized that today. While we were there setting up for the lunch, Angel made some friends. She wants to be in the Sunday school play.”
“As who?”
“An angel.”
“Of course, that makes sense. Who else would she play?”
They giggled some more then settled as their bodies warmed and they relaxed. The fire popped and crackled.
“Angel, are you asleep?” Heaven touched her sister. No response. “We’re getting out the jam and biscuits. Do you want some?”
Angel’s breathing pattern didn’t change.
“I think she’s out.” Heaven sat up. “Now, tell me why you didn’t get married this summer.”
“Oh, that.” Annabelle waved her hand in the air as if to push the experience away from their conversation.
“Annabelle, it’s a big deal, even if you make it sound like it wasn’t. What happened?”
“He sent a letter. He wrote he didn’t love me and he’d married a—a Yankee. I could have stood the pain, but he brought her back to Nashville.”
“That’s awful! How’re you going to reside in the same town?”
“I’m not. Once I found out Jake was coming to see you, I figured I’d leave with him and never go back.”
“Never? But your father.”
“I left him a note explaining my intentions to go to Memphis and open a store. I aim to never have to answer to another man the rest of my life.” Annabelle lay back on her pillow. “I’m on my own now, and that’s the way it is. This world is changing, and some day getting married won’t be a requirement. Instead of babies, I’ll—I’ll just get cats. Don’t you to want to marry Jake anymore?”
“Maybe. It’s just that I have thought him dead for so long. He seems different. I have to get to know the new Jake.” And there was Travis and the fact that her father wanted him to have her. And the kiss.
“I think the grown-up Jake is dreamy.” Annabelle sighed. “I am so tired of this place.”
“Already? You just arrived.” A hole in Heaven’s soul opened and leaked sadness. “I had hoped you would stay for a while.”
“I’ll stay here for a while, at least until you get married. I meant Nashville. It isn’t at all like you remember it, Heaven. There are bullet holes in some of the houses, and everyone wears clothes that are old and tattered. Food is scarce. Everyone seems angry or blank like they have no expression or they no longer live in their own bodies.
“And there are no suitors left. Either they’re dead or they came back in such a state that to marry one of them would mean nursing them forever. I’ve had that life with Father. That isn’t how I want to be married.”
“There have to be some men who weren’t wounded that you could consider.”
“There are, but they’re engaged or married. I guess I could marry some old coot, but I want a young buck.”
“How young?” Heaven said. “Surely there are some boys in town. Maybe you could wait until they grow up?”
“Heaven, be serious. The prospects of finding a decent husband in the South have dissipated. Then here in your own home you have two good candidates.”
“Do you want one of them?”
“No, not really. Jake is fun, but he’s from our past, and I don’t think he’ll ever be happy if he’s not living in a big house with someone to wait on him. That’s not what I want. That’s supposed to be you.”
“Like I said, I’m not sure about Jake, and Travis seems so much older than me.”
“Pshaw, he can’t be that much older than us. Why don’t you ask him?” Annabelle said. “He seems to care for Angel a great deal.”
“He’s been very good to her. Better than me for sure. He’s encouraged her to do things I was afraid to let her do.”
“That has to have been frightening for you. Losing your ma, and then Angel losing her sight. I don’t know how you coped afterwards. Then, with your papa taking off and dying.” She reached over and patted her friend’s arm. “It’s too much, Heaven.”
“Yes, well one good thing has happened. Jake Miles is alive, and he still intends to marry me.” But it wasn’t Jake’s face that came to her in her dreams. Instead, it was the face of Travis Logan with his coffee-colored eyes, dark brown hair, and the scar on his cheek.
Heaven’s eyes flittered open. She blew out, and her breath turned to steam. Getting out from under toasty blankets seemed daunting. Staying on the hard floor made it less so. She glanced at her sister and Annabelle. They were still asleep. From the glow through the canvas-covered door, she knew it was sunny. She hoped it would be a warm day.
She wiggled out of the blanket, attempting to keep any cold air from floating under and disturbing her sister. This would be a good time to have a few moments alone to think about what she needed to say to Jake and to Travis. Angel muttered something then rolled over, anchoring Annabelle with her arm.
Heaven dragged her fingers through her hair to loosen the tangles. She yawned and then stretched. Her back crackled and popped. Sleeping on a floor was something for children.
She should start the coffee, but if she did, the racket from tending the stove would likely wake her guest. For just a few minutes, she craved to talk to God. Then she’d get back to being a proper hostess.
She slipped on her shoes and her skirt and the gray drop-sleeved shirt over her chemise. She’d lost the ribbon she’d tied in her hair yesterday. If it was outside, by now Mr. Jackson had most likely ingested it.
She peeked over at the two curled up by the fire. Seeing no movement, she tiptoed to the makeshift door. She slipped through the edge of the canvas covering. The sun shone bright, blinding her as she tripped over something, wrenching her ankle. She popped her hand over her mouth to smother her voice, “Ow, ow, ow.”
A loud groan emitted from a dirty bedroll. “What’s wrong?”
She knelt and spoke low, “Travis Logan, what are you doing on my porch?”
He covered his eyes with his elbow. “It’s my porch, and I’m protecting my property.”
She stood. She wanted to kick him, but her ankle hurt too much. “Why are you sleeping out here?” Her hands went to her hips. She bent over and stared in his face. “Were you spying on us last night?”
He threw back the blankets and sat up. “Too many questions without coffee.”
“Doesn’t matter. I want an answer anyway.”
He stood.
Even without his boots, he towered over her. The top two buttons on his shirt were loose, exposing chestnut hair. Quickly she lowered her eyes and noticed his suspenders rested at his waist. Realizing she’d made another mistake, she inspected the porch. Her rifle rested next to his discarded bedroll. “You have my gun?”
“Easier to shoot a predator that might try to wander in the cabin that way.” He rubbed the corner of his eye.
Her head jerked up to see if he was serious. The whiskers on his chin and face intrigued Heaven, along with the way his hair was mashed flat, covering his wound. She wanted to lift it with her fingers and put it to rights. “How’d you get that scar on your cheek?”
He blinked as if he wasn’t sure what she was asking about, then nodded. “That.” He stroked his cheek. “Trying to helping someone that was dying. I didn’t know they had a knife. I think the man thought I was trying to kill him instead of help him. He lashed out and drew the blade across my cheek.”
“Did that happen often? Soldiers trying to hurt you while you saved them?”
“More often than not.” He touched her arm, let his hand rest a moment, then slid his fingers down her arm. “Don’t trouble yourself about it.”
“I’m not sure I could sleep if I’d been to war.”
“Some men don’t.” He bent down and bundled up his bedroll and scooped up his boots. “I’ll be out of your way here in a minute. Don’t worry about tending the animals. I’ll take care of them this morning.”
“Travis?”
He turned, with a raised eyebrow. “About Jake …”
“Guess you have a dilemma on your hands now, don’t you? You have to pick one of us, Heaven. Guess time will tell which one it will be.” He gave her a long look, as if waiting for her to choose that moment. When she didn’t answer, his shoulders slumped, and then he slowly turned away.
Travis didn’t bother plunking his feet into boots. He grasped the bedroll and boots close to his chest and kept the rifle in his hands. He wouldn’t even stop and put on his shoes.
He crossed the frosty ground, ignoring the sharp bits of frozen dirt nipping at his soles. Inside the barn, he tossed the bedroll into the hay where he’d been sleeping last night before Miss Simmons had pounced on him, waking him. He started thinking about the women in the house and the idea that anyone or any animal wouldn’t find the canvas over the door a very big deterrent. He’d rolled over and tried to ignore the thought. He couldn’t. So he’d carted his bedding and himself to the porch to sleep. And that was the thanks he got from the woman he’d been protecting. Accusing him of spying on her.
True, he’d heard them talking and giggling like schoolgirls, but he couldn’t make out the words. He did hear his name and Jake’s, but that’s all he could understand, all he wanted to understand.
He’d told Heaven she had a dilemma on her hands, and so did he. He loved that woman, but he was man enough to step out of the way for the man she’d promised to marry. If that’s what she wanted.
He wouldn’t make it easy for Jake though. He planned on quietly courting that woman, in subtle ways that would make her notice the difference between the two men. It might work, unless Jake’s attitude changed from yesterday. If he didn’t start treating Angel right, Heaven would have nothing to do with Jake. That would be an easy way to win Heaven, but Travis didn’t work that way. Angel was already special to him, and he wouldn’t use her as a pawn for marriage.
The rooster in the yard crowed, pulling him back to the chores he said he’d take care of this morning. First, he wanted to check on Mrs. Jackson and Junior, as Angel had named him last night.
He picked up a boot and slid his foot in, stomping down on the heel to set it in place. Once he had them both on, he put feed in a bucket from the barrel in the corner. Pride and Joy nickered as Travis passed by his stall. “Be back with yours in a little bit. Yours, too, Charlie.”
It occurred to him he needed to tell Jake that the farm no longer belonged to Heaven’s family. After that, he planned on staying out of Jake’s way. Travis would explore the woods and see if he could find any of Heaven’s things that had been scattered by the tornado. That is, after he patched up the house so he didn’t have to sleep on the porch again tonight.