Chapter Four

Cory studied Tyler in the lamplight. He was heavily muscled, which is why the bullet had missed bone and simply torn a slash along the side of his chest. Cory had seen naked men. At least arms, legs, and partial areas of the torso when her father worked on patients, but nothing like this man. Tyler’s body lacked any soft fat, and the muscles were clearly defined by the taut smooth skin emphasizing every bulk and shallow of his body. Cory fought the urge to stroke his tempting flesh.

Cory sorted the clothing and examined his damaged wardrobe. She poked her finger through the hole in the vest. The embroidery work was intricate and skilled. “Did someone make this for you?”

“A woman I know.”

Cory felt a quick jab of jealousy. Logical reasoning replaced her sudden fit of fury. She barely knew the man. What did she care if a woman had taken the time to make the embroidered vest for him? “It’s beautiful. I hope I can repair it.”

“What about the hole in me?” Tyler examined the bandage under his armpit.

“It will heal. All you need is rest.”

“I could use some help with these.” He lifted a boot.

Cory didn’t trust Tyler. In her panic to tend to his wound, she had forgotten he was a slave owner, a stranger, and a man. What if he was dangerous? But Grandpa Donovan had taught her not to show fear in the face of an enemy. She reached for the boot and tugged. After she removed one boot and sock, she repeated the task with the other foot and placed them on the floor side by side. “I think you’re ready for bed.”

“What about my trousers?”

“You can drop those after I’m gone.”

“I may need help getting into bed.” He grimaced as he stood.

Cory turned away and heard his pants drop to the floor. Tyler hadn’t worn anything under his shirt. What if he had nothing under his trousers? “You do have pants on, don’t you? Men’s undergarments,” she clarified.

“I hope you won’t peek,” he said. “I’m a rather modest man.”

Cory heard the ropes of the bed groan and cautiously turned.

Tyler was safely under the blanket, which he had tucked around his waist. He leaned against the pillows propped on the headboard, his right arm raised and cocked behind his head as if he was expecting company. His left arm remained by his wounded side.

“Do you need anything else?”

His brow furrowed. “I feel a bit warm.”

The man was taxing her patience. “It’s July.”

“I may have a fever.”

Cory pressed her hand against his forehead, and he snatched it into his own. “You have a gentle touch for someone so bloodthirsty.”

She tugged her hand free. “Do all Southern men talk so boldly to women they barely know?”

“Only to those who shoot them.”

Cory stared him in the eye. “I’m beginning to think I should have taken better aim.”

He stuck out his bottom lip. “Our children would be disappointed.”

“We’re never going to have any children.” She stepped to the window beside the bed and pushed it upward. She propped a board against it to hold it open. “There’s not much of a breeze, but this should help cool your ardor.”

He chuckled. “Miss Adelaide called you Cory. It suits you better than Courtney.”

“My sisters call me Cory. You can call me Miss Beecher.”

“How many sisters do you have, Cory?”

“Five.”

“Five?” He studied her. “Are they all like you?”

It sounded like an unintentional compliment, and Cory smiled. If he ever met her sisters, he’d think she was an angel by comparison. “We bear a family resemblance, but we’re all different.”

“Any of them married?”

“Not yet. I’m the oldest.” She recalled her responsibilities. “That means I’m the first to marry.”

“You’re a woman looking for a husband.”

“Wipe that look of panic off your face.” Cory laughed. “You are off my list of suitable husbands.”

“Already?”

She counted off on her fingers. “I won’t marry a drunkard, a cheat, a liar, an abuser, or a slave owner.”

“I’m hardly all of those.”

“It only takes one,” she said. “You are the worst, a slave owner.”

“What if I wasn’t a slave owner?”

Cory dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Then you would be a liar.”

“Who else is in the house besides you and Adelaide?” he demanded. “Be careful, Cory dear, or I might call you a liar.”

Cory backed away from him. “I hope you don’t plan on paying back our hospitality by robbing or murdering us.”

He shook his head. “No, but why are you and Adelaide alone in such a big house?”

Hiram’s death was common knowledge. “Hiram Thomas died from a heart attack four weeks ago.”

Tyler frowned. “How well do you know Adelaide?”

“She’s an old family friend. She’s having a hard time adjusting to life without Hiram. I help with the chores, make sure she eats, and keep her company.”

“It’s difficult being alone.”

“Especially when you’ve been married for so many years like Adelaide.”

Tyler frowned. “Family is important.”

“Do you have any family?”

“I didn’t see much of them while I was away at school.” He grinned. “I’m a lawyer.”

“Like Mr. Lincoln?”

Tyler looked like he was going to be sick. “Lincoln didn’t go to law school. He’s a country con man who can spin a good yarn and win over a jury with his humor and charm. I graduated from Harvard.”

Why were college educated men so arrogant? She had spent all night listening to Douglas brag about his Yale College education, and now Tyler was repeating the performance. “I am not impressed.” She plucked his trousers from the floor and placed them at the bottom of the bed. She gathered his damaged clothing, her crinoline, and what remained of her petticoat. “I’ll wash the blood out.”

“Are you leaving?”

She had her hand on the doorknob but turned. “Is there something else you needed?”

His stare was intense, but he remained silent.

Cory recognized the unspoken invitation. Usually it preceded an attempt at a kiss. He was waiting for a sign of acquiesce from her. She turned the knob and hurried out of the room. She leaned against the door jamb to steady her racing heart. She’d almost answered his call.

She passed the top of the staircase and paused at her bedroom door. She should check on Adelaide. As she walked toward Adelaide’s room, she heard familiar snoring. She was asleep.

Cory’s room had belonged to Adelaide’s daughters. She dropped the clothing on a cedar chest at the end of the bed and sat on a stool in front of the dressing table. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and scolded the wide-eyed innocent. “The man is a rake. The handsome ones always are. He’ll steal more than a kiss. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up like Deborah Jackson with a baby to remind her of a handsome stranger and an old husband to give him a name.”

She swung around on the stool and kicked off her shoes. Lifting her skirt, she slid down the garters, followed by her stockings. She took the scissors from her sewing basket and snipped the threads holding the bodice to the matching skirt and removed them. The corset cover came off next, but the corset took more effort. Inhaling, she pinched the hooks together to release them. Her chest rose with a deep exhale. It felt good to be free of the stiff support garment fashion dictated she wear when entertaining guests or in public. Cory discarded her chemise and drawers.

Even naked, the heat was unbearable. She soaked a large sponge in the round porcelain wash basin and gave herself a bath. The cool water caressed her flesh, and she indulged herself longer than usual. She chose her lightest nightgown of sheer cotton with a band of lace across her breast and two straps that tied at her shoulders.

Sitting at the dressing table, she removed the combs from her reddish-brown hair. After brushing it, she braided three large strands a few times to keep the hair away from her face. The remaining length cascaded down her back in a wave of thick curls.

Taking Tyler’s clothing, she scrubbed the blood stains from his vest and jacket and put them aside to mend. The shirt would have to soak overnight. She piled it into the same porcelain bowl she had washed from and added the remaining water from the pitcher to cover it.

“The ball!” She had placed Tyler’s trousers on the end of his bed and hadn’t even thought about stealing the lead slug from his pocket. She didn’t dare sneak back into his room for it. Maybe he was only bluffing about using it for evidence against her. But he said he was a lawyer. “Oh no!” She punched her pillow. She’d have to be nicer to Tyler. Not an easy task.

Unlike Douglas, Tyler had no respect for the social niceties strictly adhered to between men and women. In less than an hour, he had put his arm around her shoulders, blatantly ogled her breasts, and mutely invited her to share his bed. And all she had done was shoot him, strip him nearly naked, and put him in the bedroom next to hers. News of her actions tonight would leave her a spinster for the rest of her life or an invitation to work at the Unfortunate Maiden, a popular whorehouse in downtown Akron.

****

Cory tossed the blanket off and rolled out of bed. The ropes supporting her feather-filled mattress creaked with the movement. She paused and wondered if anyone had heard. The cold bath no longer cooled her body, but it wasn’t the July heat causing her fever. Images of a nearly naked man kept invading her dreams. In the past, the man had been faceless, an image of perfection, an ideal for her to fantasize about without hope of fulfillment. But now he had a face and a name—Tyler Montgomery.

Her father had been careful not to allow her to see too much of the male anatomy when she helped set a broken arm or stitch a gash, but she’d caught enough glances to know Tyler wasn’t an ordinary specimen. Hard labor had toned muscles and vanquished fat. She wondered how a lawyer could be so finely honed. Something didn’t add up.

She had kept an ear cocked for any noise, half expecting Tyler to crash through her locked bedroom door, but the house remained silent. Was she disappointed? Was she so desperate for a moment of excitement in her life, she would welcome a stranger to her bed? Not that she knew what to do once he joined her. The thought of sharing a bed with Douglas gave her an involuntary shudder. How did women tolerate the touch of a man they barely knew? Could a woman accept intimacies with a man if passion was lacking?

She stood in front of the open window, wishing for a faint breeze. Nothing. She leaned out the window sill on her elbows for a hint of coolness on her face. Her neck felt damp beneath her thick hair, and her gown clung to her moist skin. She wondered how Tyler was sleeping and wondered why she cared.

As Cory was about to turn away from the window and return to bed, she heard a barn door squeak open. She focused on the large building located off the northeast corner of the house. From her window, she could see the dirt ramp to the upper level of the barn. The wide sliding doors remained unmoved. The noise had come from one of the smaller doors on each side of the lower level where the livestock spent the night. For a brief moment, a light was visible inside the window facing her. Someone was in the barn.

From a peg on the wall, Cory grabbed a light robe with a deep V-neckline and a sash at the waist. She searched the dressing table for a box of matches. She struck one to light a candle in a tin holder and cupped her hand around the flame in case a rare breeze blew into the room. She opened the door and tiptoed along the hallway. She listened for Adelaide’s snoring. Her hand was on the newel post when she heard a creaking noise.

Tyler poked his head through his opened doorway. “What’s wrong?” he whispered in a deep hoarse voice. A thick wave of black curls fell across his forehead, framing his pale eyes.

Cory was surprised to see him. If he wasn’t out in the barn, who was? “Go back to bed.”

Tyler stepped into the hall, illuminated by the candle in her hand. He had his trousers and boots on. “Where are you going?”

Cory stared at his bare chest with a strip of her petticoat tied around the widest part. His body tapered from broad shoulders to a narrow waist. Long, lean legs crossed the short distance between them in a few strides.

“Where are you going at this time of night?” he repeated.

She hadn’t meant to tell him, but the words escaped of their own volition. “I saw a light in the barn.”

Tyler pulled on his suspenders, struggling with the left side because of his wound. Cory reached out and straightened the twisted strap. Her fingertips brushed against his bare skin. Her nipples, for reasons unknown, stiffened into hard peaks. She jerked her hand away and tried not to draw attention to her jutting breasts.

Tyler glanced down at her attire. “Southern women don’t go out in public in their nighties.”

She raised her candle to his face. “And you know this because…”

Tyler grinned. “I’ve never seen any out gallivanting in their nighties. Of course, I heard rumors Northern women sleep fully clothed. I’m glad they were wrong.”

“It’s July.”

“You keep telling me that.”

Cory ignored Tyler and headed down the stairs. She had expected him to return to his room and comfortable bed, but he followed her. She wondered how much he truly knew about women. If he was like the young men she had grown up with, he knew next to nothing about the female gender. He was probably full of bluff, and she was going to call him on it. “We only sleep fully clothed in February.”

“It must get cold sleeping alone.”

“I normally don’t sleep alone.”

Tyler stopped on the step behind her. “You don’t?” His voice was high-pitched.

“I have five sisters. We share three beds. Two per bed. It’s simple math.”

“That’s all Northerners learn in their public school system.”

Cory stopped mid-step and turned her head. “What is wrong with a public education?”

Tyler stopped with her. “Where do I begin? I have yet to meet someone who attended public school who can spell, let alone add and subtract accurately. The only thing worse than the students are the educators. Anyone with the basic knowledge of the alphabet and crude math skills qualifies for the job of instructor and can receive a teaching certificate.”

“I am a school teacher.” Cory waited for an apology.

“I thought so. You corrected my grammar earlier, and you’re bossy.”

He was intentionally trying to insult and anger her. She measured her response. “There’s a normal school for training teachers in Cleveland, but it was too far to travel. Besides, they don’t require two years of extra schooling to teach in Darrow Falls. It’ll probably change soon.”

“You don’t agree with the higher standards?”

“Sometimes talent is as important as a diploma. Do you think you’re a better lawyer than Mr. Lincoln because you went to Harvard?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.”

“I didn’t go to Harvard to be a worse lawyer.”

She challenged him. “Don’t you have to be a man of high moral character to be a lawyer?”

“I’m only twenty-five. I haven’t had time to do anything immoral, yet.” He added the last word with a glint in his eye.

“I hope you don’t have anything immoral in mind when it comes to me.” She had reached the foyer and turned, the flame in her hand passing close to Tyler’s face.

He grabbed her hand holding the candle. “Careful, you’ve already maimed me once.”

Cory trembled. What was wrong with her? She was too sensible to be swept off her feet by a mere touch, but her body betrayed her, longing for fulfillment of an unknown need.

Tyler released her hand and ran his fingers through his thick hair. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“My presence in the house may have put you in danger. I have enemies.”

“The only enemies I’m worried about are the gossipers in town. Are you planning to tell others you spent the night?”

“No.”

He’d said it without hesitation, but she still worried. “I hope you’re an honorable man and keep your word.”