Audrey caught up and plodded beside him, her wet shoes squishing with every step. The rain turned from downpour to a fine mist. At least now she could walk upright instead of fighting a blowing curtain of water. She glanced up at him, thinking it was kind of him to offer his services—but then he hadn’t. Caleb had offered for him.
He glanced back at her. “It’s a good thing there aren’t more of you Timber Creek women. Wouldn’t be anything left of the town. You’re taking it apart piece by piece.”
She swiped a rain-soaked fringe of hair out of her eyes and gave him a look he couldn’t miss. “Purely accident, of course. Do you think I’d deliberately hit a water tower?”
His shook his head. “I can’t say, ma’am. Most folks would have avoided it.”
“First of all, I’m not a ma’am—” She ducked, but a wet branch slapped her and dropped what felt like a full bucket of water in her face and down her neck. Land sakes! She’d never experienced such a drenching. “And secondly, no one in their right mind would intentionally hit an object that large.”
“If you say so.”
Patience? She was going to need a two-by-four to get this man’s attention. “I thought it never rained here!”
“I guess you broke the drought,” he called. “Most welcome it is too. Every bucket and pan in town is set out to catch the water.”
Even though he didn’t say it, Audrey knew he was thinking about the toppled water supply. Thanks to her, the town no longer had a source to hold the precious liquid. She was beginning to understand how Willow must have felt when she inadvertently spilled the kerosene and set the sawmill on fire. Humiliated. And furious. Why would Thunder Ridge build something as important as a water tower so close to the road in the first place? Any sensible person would know to build it back from the road. ’Course the horse was going so fast, who knew whether they were even on the road at that point?
They reached the stable, and Eli led the horse inside, out of the rain. Audrey followed, thinking what a pitiful picture she made. Water dripped from her clothes and hair, forming a good-sized puddle. A white leghorn hen high-stepped toward her and dipped its head to drink thirstily. She tossed her wet hair aside with one finger. She had always taken pains with her appearance, not overly fussy but sure to look presentable. What must Eli Gray think of her now?
She shivered when a chilly breeze blew from the open door. No doubt she would catch her death standing there in damp clothing.
Eli devoted his attention to the horse, socializing apparently forgotten. Audrey reached to pet Willow’s mare that had served them so well during the war. “Hello, ole girl. Remember me?”
The horse nuzzled her hand.
Eli paused, his eyes on the friendly exchange. “Guess you two go way back?”
“Yes, during the war we found her in a field one day, with no apparent owner. We took her home, and she’s been a godsend in our lives.”
His eyes motioned to a stack of empty feed sacks. “Hand me one. The mare needs to be wiped down.”
Audrey stepped away from the stall. “I can care for my horse.” She didn’t want him thinking that she was a helpless woman.
“Just hand me one, and sit down on that bucket before you faint.”
“I don’t faint.”
“No?” His gaze fixed on her. “Most women I know keel over at the slightest provocation.”
“I’m not ‘most’ women.” She handed him a dry feed sack. “And Willow and Copper aren’t either.”
Cool blue eyes assessed her. “How long do you plan to stay in Thunder Ridge this time?”
Audrey sank down on the bucket, fingers working a pleat into the fabric of her soaked skirt. “I’m not sure—I’ll need to find work.” She glanced at him. “You overheard my conversation with Mr. Jackson?”
“Sorry—voices carry.”
“Yes, I am most disappointed.”
How could she break the news to Willow? In Blackberry Hill, she would have had a room. Now she was homeless. Destitute. Everything she owned was packed in a satchel and getting soaked sitting in the back of that wretched wagon. She started. How could she have forgotten her bags? “Our things! We left them in the wagon.”
“I’ll fetch them in a minute.”
She got up. “You don’t have to. I can get them myself.” Before he could object, she slipped out the door. A fine mist sprayed her face. She waded around standing puddles to unload the satchels. Everything else would have to wait until the rain stopped.
Eli didn’t look up when she stumbled over the hen as she came back through the door, a bag in each hand. A rooster came at her, pecking at her heels. She dropped the bags beside an empty stall, nudging the nuisance away with her foot. She’d boil that rude little fowl for supper.
“Here! Git!” Eli scattered the fowl. “So, what are you going to do now?”
Other than eat that rooster? She didn’t know.
She sat down, sighing. “Willow invited me to stay with her and the judge but I don’t want to impose. I’ll look for work right away.”
He poured oats into a feed box and placed it in the stall and then tossed a handful of grain to the chickens. Audrey shot the fowl a warning look and then smiled when Eli turned in her direction.
“Not a lot of work in these parts. I suppose if you were a man, we could put you on at the mill. We’ll need workers, and with the water tower to rebuild we’ll need even more, but I can’t picture you doing hard labor.”
She allotted a tolerant smile. “Nor can I, Mr. Gray—at least not climbing on mill roofs and toting shingles, but perhaps I could clean houses or get a job at the general store. There must be something available.”
“What about the Burying Parlor? Heard Gertie mention the job to you.”
“Yes, she did. I haven’t had time to consider the prospect.”
“What’s your friend’s plan?” He picked up a lead rope and draped it over the stall door, avoiding eye contact.
Jealousy pricked her. Copper? Had Copper romantically caught his eye—well, of course he’d noticed her. She was hard to miss with all that red hair and flawless complexion, but had he really noticed her? In the way Audrey hoped to attract his favor?
She took in his broad shoulders stretching the soaked fabric of his shirt. She quickly looked away. When had she become so scandalous? Decent women didn’t notice such things. Flustered, she said the first thing that popped into mind.
“You’ll be delighted to know that Beeder’s Cove has hired her for the new teaching position.”
“Really?” He glanced up. “When did this come about?”
“Recently—the day my wire from Blackberry Hill arrived.” She grinned. “Shall I give her your regards?”
Color crept up his neck. “That’s not necessary. I’ll see her around.”
Audrey was aware of the fire in her own cheeks getting warmer. Well, at least he didn’t appear smitten with Copper. She mentally added a checkmark in her favor. But in keeping with friendship, she added. “Copper’s a lovely woman.”
He tossed a blanket over a stall. “She’s one fine lady.”
She frowned. So he had noticed her.
“A bit willful for my taste.” He adjusted the bill of his hat. “No offense.”
She relaxed. “None taken.” Copper could argue with a stump. She switched subjects. “Do you know anything about the Burying Parlor?”
He paused. “I try not to go near the place. I had my fill of the dead during the war. Never got very close to bodies, but I knew they were there. It’ll be fine with me if I never see another.”
She thought back to Timber Creek and the fighting the women had endured there. “War is horrible, isn’t it?”
“Be glad you didn’t see any actual battle.”
She tensed, slanting him a look. “I saw plenty of fighting. I can fire a gun as well or better than you can.”
He braced one hand on the stable wall, looking down at her. “If you say so.”
“I’ll have you understand I’m an excellent markswoman. I rarely miss. I’ll challenge you to a duel when the rain lets up. See who the best shot is.”
His brows knitted in disbelief. “You best retract your offer. I might take you up on it.”
She matched his smirk. “Never. It matters little to me who’s the best shot, just as long as we don’t shoot each other. Give me the chance to prove my claim.”
His gaze lightly skimmed her. “I don’t have time for contests. But you asked about the Burying Parlor. Are you seriously thinking about taking the job?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’m not certain. I don’t fancy the idea, but I may have little choice in the matter.”
“Think you can handle dead folks?”
She met him look for look. “If I must.”
He chuckled. “You’re as feisty as your friend.”
“I’m nothing like Copper—not that that would be a bad thing. And truthfully, I don’t know if I can handle the dead.”
“But you’re considering it?”
“A woman in my position can’t be choosy.”
Thunder rocked the building and sent her flying off the bucket with an involuntary scream. Before she even realized it, she clutched Eli’s arm as if he were a lifeline. Her body was trembling, probably from the shock of the wagon accident, the thoughts of dead people, and the chill of wet clothing. For a moment she feared that she really would faint. He slipped his left arm around her, holding her like a frightened child until the thunderous echoes faded.
She straightened and moved away, cheeks burning as she struggled to gain her composure. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You’ll get used to the noise. It happens a lot around here.”
“I’ll not be caught unaware again.” She straightened her hair. “The thunder took me by surprise, that’s all.”
But that wasn’t all. The fear still haunted her as much as she’d prayed for God to take it away. It was the war battles; the stench of gunpowder, the screams, and the hopelessness of not knowing if they would make it out alive.
But they had.
She forced a smile. “I better go inside and change into dry clothing.”
When she stepped from the building, thunder unleashed another deluge of cold rain. She forged through the blast of wind until a firm hand grasped her arm, and she looked up to find Eli walking beside her.
“Hold on to me. I’ll get you to the house!”
The unrelenting downpour and brute force wind dashed any desire for independence. She clung to him, grateful for his assistance. They waded through puddles, not even trying to go around them. She could barely see the outlines of the house. A sea of mud stretched before her. Audrey plowed into it, one foot sliding forward. She grabbed his arm in a desperate attempt to keep from falling. Knocked off balance, his booted feet slid out from under him. She heard him yell as they went down together in the soft, squishy morass.
Gasping, she sank into the cold sludge. Beside her Eli thrashed, trying and failing to stand up. He sat flat down in the mire. Then he was back on his feet again as she pushed to her knees, attempting to gain traction. He loomed over her, and she raised apprehensive eyes to meet his, aware that she had caused the humiliating mishap.
Mud smeared his features and coated his jacket and pants. For a moment he stared at her, as if riveted to an offensive sight. Then one corner of his mouth quirked in a grin.
“If your momma could only see you now.”
She stared at him, jaw agape, then, to her surprise, a chuckle formed deep in her chest, bubbling to the surface. He reached down to help her up, and they clung to each other, laughing, as thunder and lightning rumbled overhead.
Lifting her face to the rain, she shouted, “If we stand here long enough, the rain will wash us clean!”
He slid one arm around her waist, bracing against the gale. “I believe I’d rather have the comfort of Wallace’s kitchen. And hot coffee.”
“Hot coffee sounds wonderful.” And the feel of his arm around her was even more stimulating than coffee. Suddenly the day had been salvaged.