Karen Kirst - Wed By Necessity

“You’re even lovelier than the last time I set eyes on you,” he drawled. “I’m glad my father insisted I come.”

Unexpectedly, Duncan’s mocking blue gaze entered her mind. She blinked it away. “You’d rather be somewhere else?”

He lowered her hand but didn’t release it, his thumb stroking her knuckles. While pleasant, his touch didn’t evoke butterflies in her tummy or prickles of excitement along her skin. Duncan didn’t have to make contact for that to happen. All he had to do was come close. Irksome man!

“I had planned a hunting trip with my friends. But Father’s been in correspondence with Albert, and he hinted how lonely you’ve been. I thought I’d see if I could remedy the situation.”

The strange light in his eyes made Caroline uncomfortable. Intuition warned he didn’t have serious intentions.

Pulling out of his grip, she lifted her chin. “I’m afraid you gave up your hunting trip for nothing. Your father was misinformed. If I were lonely, I wouldn’t need you to assuage it. I have plenty of pets already.”

Glancing about to ensure they weren’t overheard, he leaned close, a hardness entering his gaze. “Careful, Caroline. Your reputation as a cold, bitter shell of a woman means your options are few. A light flirtation with me would go a long way in convincing others that you’re not a lost cause.”

His words sliced into her, mainly because she sometimes did feel hollow inside. Maybe he was right. “My mother thinks I should aim for a marriage proposal from you.”

His head jerked back in horror. “Marriage? To you?”

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.