Untitled

Chapter Six

Rory loaded an entire table with food and arranged it in three sections—main dishes, breads and biscuits, and at the far end, pies and cakes. While studying her handiwork, Dawson returned, walked around the table and stopped near a mouth–watering assortment of berry pies. "Now this is a feast."

A thrill shivered down her spine. "Do the good people of Guilford eat this way often?"

"As often as we can." With his infamous smile on display, he walked toward her and took her by the hand. "I believe the line is this way."

Their plates laden with food, Dawson eased her toward a small table on the porch and nodded her into one of the chairs. "Perfect, away from the crowd, including Potter."

With a smidgen of guilt, Rory scanned the yard for Markham. "Not very nice after I committed to sit with him during the meal."

Dawson followed her gaze. "He doesn't look too heartbroken to me. In fact, he seems quite taken with Mary Duelm."

"You know everyone. Have you lived here for a while?"

"We arrived in 1850 when I was twelve." He looked off into the distance. "The territory was harsh and sparse in those days."

"Harsh and sparse, huh?" Rory laughed over his rhyme and followed up with another question.

"We?"

"My parents, brothers and sisters."

"Is your family here today?"

He nodded. "My father came with me at sunrise. My brothers, Ethan and Elijah, showed up when they finished their chores at home." He pointed to his right. There they are, talking Jon's ear off."

Rory looked in that direction and spotted her brother–in–law talking with two dark–haired young men. "They look like you."

"Handsome then?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me I have to add conceit to your list of dubious attributes?"

"I prefer confidence." He changed the subject. "About that day in the woods, what did you think? Why did you run away?"

"I thought you'd be angry I didn't make my presence known before–before . . .."

He closed one eye and pinned her with a stern look. "So, you were spying on me?"

"No, I swear I didn't mean to spy. I should have cleared my throat or called out—"

"Yes, you should have."

"When you started shedding your trousers to take a swim, I turned to leave and that's when my hair got caught in the bramble." She swallowed hard. "You're pretending to be angry, aren't you?"

Several heartbeats passed before he answered. "Yes, I'm toying with you. I'd still like to know why you ran away."

"It sounds silly now, but you had a knife in your hand. I didn't know who you were or why you were there."

"I wielded the knife to show you I intended to cut you free. I could say the same about you—didn't know who you were or why you were there."

Her lips fell into a pout. "Why were you in the woods that day?"

He leaned back in his chair. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"Oh, are you ever serious?" She waved a hand in the air and then looked him in the eye. "You aren't going to tell me why you were there, are you?"

"Not today, curious little kitten, but perhaps one day."

With conscious effort to turn the conversation, Dawson asked about her childhood and how she came to be in Guilford with Jon and Isabelle. Rory recounted the death of her parents at sea and even the passing of little Jon Henry in Boston. "Isabelle took the babe's death hard. Jon hoped moving to a new locale would assuage her grief, diminish the day–to–day reminders." She looked up at the house. "When Jab wrote to Jon and told him he'd found the perfect home for their family, everyone agreed to make the long journey."

"You knew the Pearsons before?"

"They were good friends and neighbors in Massachusetts at one time." She wanted to know more about him, the enigmatic, secretive Dawson Finch, and yet she didn't know why he intrigued her. "Markham said you're overseeing the construction of our new barn. Does that relegate you to the most dangerous post?"

"I choose to work up there."

"Whatever for?"

"You touched on that when you spoke of your parents and the baby in Boston—human frailty."

She felt a frown tug the corner of her lips. "I don't understand."

"One doesn't truly live until they've seen the blue clarity of the sky up close and tempted death once or twice."

"That sounds reckless to me."

"Not at all. Up there, I realize how fleeting life is and how small we are in this enormous world." He looked skyward. "Not today, but some days, I can almost touch the clouds. And when the sun sets, the pale footprints of a million stars flicker. That's an amazing sight, the interchange of the sun and the stars. The transformation happens every night, but do we ever really see it?"

Rory tried to form an image in her mind. "I guess not in the way you describe it." She chuckled. "I don't think I'm brave enough to watch from that height."

"If you want something bad enough, you overcome fear."

She shook her head. "You're a strange one, Dawson Finch. I didn't peg you as a philosophical soul."

Her heart skipped a beat when he stared into her eyes. "So, you confess to thinking about me?"

"Oh," she rolled her eyes. "You're toying with me again, and to think I could have been tallying numbers with Markham instead."

The bell rang out again. "Time to go back to work." He showered her with a breathtaking smile. His teeth were a brilliant white and perfectly straight. They would be, of course. Everything about the man seemed faultless. "Thank you for acquiescing to my blackmail."

He hadn't even left and already she felt a small loss. "I enjoyed our conversation," she managed to say and wanted to pinch her lips for sounding so inane. "Except for the teasing."

"I stand warned." Dawson strolled down the porch steps and disappeared among the throng of workers.

If Rory thought to paint him out of her life with a wide stroke of the brush after the meal, she thought wrong. Dawson Finch was not a man one met every day. There was more to him than a handsome face and endearing smirk, more than broad shoulders and a hard–muscled body. Much more than a stranger in the woods.

When the last nail was hammered into place, the workers gathered around the new barn with Isabelle, Jon, Rory and their children.

Jon addressed the group. "We don't know how to thank you."

Jab stepped forward and clasped Jon around the shoulder. "We're not quite done, lad." The man nodded toward the animal pen. "Milking cows and a few cattle to fill the stalls."

Isabelle's eyes filled with tears. "We don't know what to say other than bless you for your generosity and kindness."

"This is an unforgiving land at times, calamities happen." Jab looked at the mass of people. "Storms, fires, and other tragedies come along too often. In our settlement, we help those in need." He turned back to Jon. "You'd do the same for any one of us."

Choked with emotion, Jon nodded.

A tug to Rory's elbow turned her toward the source. Happy to see Dawson again, she graced him with her best smile.

He led her away from the chatty crowd. "I wanted you to know I'll be gone until spring."

"Gone? You're leaving?"

"Another building project on my list. With winter rolling in, I won't be around much."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He shrugged. "I want to see you again, sooner rather than later but . . .."

"You do?"

"Yes, and I didn't want you to think I disappeared like a fog rolling out to sea." With a laugh, he added, "What are you adding to my list of dubious traits now, presumptuous?"

"Doesn't that fall under the same category as bold?"

He looked away. "Yes, it does, along with arrogance."

"I think I covered those already." She brought his chin back with a finger. "I believe I'll add this under the admirable traits."

"Didn't know you had such a column."

"Oh, I do and I'll add thoughtful to it, possibly selfless but I have to think on that one."

"Should I worry about more meals with Markham while I'm gone?"

She held his gaze, her voice soft and low. "Markham who?"

"You're a bright, shining star, Rory. You light up everything and everyone around you, including me." His expression unreadable, he continued to look into her eyes. "What's running through that pretty head right now?"

"Stars."

"What about them?"

"I'm scared. You're the bright shining star, tumbling hard and fast toward earth. I can't breathe around you." Another chuckle. "On second thought, you're more like a meteor."

"I'd never burn you, trust me. Think of me now and then, that's all I ask."

"And make no commitments to Markham?"

"I don't think I have to worry about Potter; he's not your type."

"I suppose you are?"

"Yes, and one day you'll see that as clear as the fingers on your hand. I knew it the moment we connected in the forest." Blue eyes pierced her soul. "Again, today as we sat on the porch."

"I don't know anything about you." With a resigned sigh, she looked away from the endless depths. "Besides, I don't believe in love at first—"

"Sight?"

The story of how Jon and Isabelle met nagged her subconscious. "Next you'll be telling me you were swallowed up in an abyss of love in an instant."

"You read Dickens?"

"Some of his early serials." She couldn't hide the surprise in her high-pitched voice. "I didn't think you'd recognize the passage."

"Dora Splenlow," Dawson countered. "Copperfield loved her to distraction."

"The moment he saw her, yes. I don't believe that kind of love exists."

"Deep down you do; you keep telling yourself it's not possible. Think about it long and hard while I'm gone. If you still think there's no such thing, I'll stop pestering you."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Tossed in with hope."

Rory closed her eyes for a moment and opened them. "All right, Dawson. I'll think about the possibility of falling in love with someone after one brief encounter." She blew a sigh and held his face between her hands. "And I'll think of you."

He stole a quick kiss, stepped back and mounted. "Stay safe. I'll see you in the spring."

Her mind teeming with mixed emotions, Rory watched him disappear from view and rejoined the crowd.

Isabelle caught her gaze and mouthed the words, "Are you all right?"

Rory reassured her with a brief smile and a nod but inside chaos ruled. If I live to be two hundred, I might never be all right after meeting Dawson Finch.

Next chapter