~ ~ ~
By the time the guests began to arrive, Becky had helped Kate get entirely changed, abandoning her simple country dress of the morning for a formal, dark blue velvet dress complemented by a matching ribbon trailing down from her hair.
She could hear Edward and her father speaking downstairs in the foyer, their conversation low and measured. Quite a change from the morning. She turned and examined her profile in the full-length mirror. Sam should like this, she thought, then watched her eyes grow wide as she realized what she’d thought.
How odd. She felt a wave of heat rise throughout her body. Why did Sam pop into my head? Edward should like this. She stepped closer to the mirror and stared at herself. Well, perhaps they’ll both like it. She let a smile slide onto her face as she turned to go downstairs.
She found her father and Edward still in the foyer, her father clutching a bottle of brandy.
“My dear,” Edward called as she came downstairs. He reached out to take her hand as she descended the final steps. “I understand you had quite a scare last night.”
“Yes, I did,” she said. “But thanks to Sam everything turned out fine. In fact, I’d like to speak to you about that. Papa, you don’t mind if Edward and I talk privately in the parlor, do you?”
Tom turned his attention from the label on the brandy bottle. “No, of course not,” he said. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
Kate took Carter’s arm and they stepped into the parlor, drawing the door nearly closed behind them.
Edward quickly pulled her against him, cradling her head in his hand and hugging her tightly. “Thank God you’re all right,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “Those men are worse than animals. They’re rubbish. Savages. I only wish I’d been the one to dispose of them.”
She let herself enjoy a moment of closeness, his body warm against hers, before stepping back and throwing a glance toward the foyer to make sure they were alone.
“It was a horrible moment,” she admitted. “If it weren’t for Sam, I don’t know what might have happened.”
The worried look on Edward’s face drained away, replaced by a tight-lipped mask. “Yes, I’ve heard that he helped out a bit.”
“It was more than a bit,” she said. Kate took Edward’s hands and stared up into his eyes, searching for the concern that had disappeared from his gaze. “Those men would have ravished me if it weren’t for him. You don’t know how close I came to truly living through a nightmare.”
Carter looked away, collapsing under the force of her gaze. “I know,” he said softly. “But I just think of the way he paraded you around town like that, and I can’t help but wonder which was worse, having those drunken fools manhandle you or having Sam do it.”
“Sam didn’t manhandle me,” she said, and she could feel the heat rising within her. “He saved me. And that’s all there is to it. And I have to say, it sounds like you’re more concerned about how things looked than you are about me.” She crossed her arms and waited for his response, staring at him as he tried to evade her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Katherine,” he finally said softly, still staring at the floor. “I guess I let my feelings for you get control of me. It’s just been a hard day for me, what with the news of what happened to you and then hearing that another man had to save you.”
She reached up and laid her hand on Edward’s cheek, gently pulling his face toward hers again. “Don’t be jealous,” she said quietly. “It’s particularly unattractive. And unnecessary,” she added, quickly kissing him. “Don’t doubt me.”
A sheepish look came over his face. “It won’t happen again, my darling.”
“Good.” She stepped toward the parlor door and pulled it open. “Now let’s go greet the other guests. I think I heard a carriage just pull up out front.”
As the guests arrived—the Thompsons and Mayor Fowler, followed by the Tiltons from the neighboring farm—Kate tried to steer the conversation away from the events in the alley, though she knew that in such a small town they probably all knew already. She talked about the weather, asked about the Sunday sermon she’d missed, and made the most detailed inquiries about her guests’ extended families.
Still, she could sense a tension in the room, a mass of unasked questions that was building up among them. Hannah kept giving her encouraging nods, like she would to a baby taking her first steps, and the men all had similar sad smiles on their faces as they watched her. Finally she took a deep breath and let it all out in a rush.
“So you may have heard about some unpleasantness I went through last night,” she began, and told them everything that had happened. It was an odd experience, as if she were describing the action in a book; it was hard to believe that it had happened to her, while she was now sitting safe and sound at home.
Kate had already finished telling her story when she heard the sound of footfalls on the porch steps and a knock on the door.
“That must be Sam,” Kate said, beginning to rise from the sofa.
Carter’s hand shot out for her wrist and he leaned close to whisper. “You didn’t tell me he was going to be here.”
“Well, of course,” she said. “How could we not invite him after last night?” She excused herself and went to the front door.
“Sorry I’m a bit late,” Sam said as she opened the door. “Had a little trouble getting the cows to come in.”
“That’s not a problem. I’m just glad you’re here,” she said. “Come on in.”
Kate led him down the hall to the parlor; as they entered, Thomas practically leaped to his feet to greet Sam, pumping his hand vigorously.
“Now here’s the man of the hour,” he said. “What am I saying? The hour, the day, the whole damned month!”
Sam’s cheeks grew red and stayed that way as he greeted the other guests.
“We were just hearing about how you came to Kate’s rescue last night,” Mr. Thompson said. “Sounds like you gave those boys just what they were asking for.”
“Well, maybe it would be best not to bring up something so unpleasant,” Sam said quietly, shooting a glance toward Kate, who had returned to Carter’s side on the sofa. “But just between us, yes I did,” he added with a wink.
Thompson laughed and clapped him on the back, his huge hand like a smoked ham on Sam’s shoulder.
Sam made his way around the room and shortly arrived at Kate and Edward.
“Mr. Carter,” he said, thrusting out his hand.
After an elbow from Kate, Carter slowly rose and shook Sam’s hand quickly, as if he just wanted to get it over with. If Sam noticed, he didn’t let on; he moved on to greet Jake and Mark before the group moved into the dining room.
With a nod from Thomas, Becky went into the kitchen and returned in a moment with Sarah, each of them bringing large platters of food. When they had finished serving the guests, Kate’s father stood and raised his glass. “Now if you’ll all join me in a toast—”
“Actually, I’d like to make the toast,” Kate said. “If you don’t mind, Papa.”
He smiled at her and sat down. “Not in the slightest. It’s probably more appropriate anyway.”
Kate pushed back her chair and raised her wine glass. She looked across the table to Sam, whose cheeks had again turned a fine shade of scarlet. “Sam,” she said, only getting one word out before she realized that she may have erred in asking to make the toast. It might have been the hitch that leaped into her voice, strangling the lone syllable, or perhaps the sting of tears about to flow; regardless, Kate realized that she was perilously close to losing all composure.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, and she closed her eyes while taking a deep breath.
“It’s okay, Katie,” her father said quietly.
She took another breath. This is the easy part, she thought. After yesterday, this should be a cakewalk.
“Sam, by now everybody here knows how you saved me last night,” she said. “Ever since we arrived in Wisconsin you’ve been nothing b
ut helpful. More than helpful, actually; if it weren’t for you I’m sure we would have run the farm into the ground already. No offense, Papa.”
“None taken, sweetheart. I don’t disagree.”
She turned back to Sam. “So you’re a skilled manager and you even have hidden talents, like we saw at the county fair. But what you did last night was something else. It was something…exceptional,” she said.
“It was nothing,” Sam said quietly. “Anybody would have done the same thing.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” she said. “That was the most frightening thing I’ve ever been through in my life, and…well, thank you, Sam. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
She raised her glass to him, as did all the other guests; Sam’s cheeks flushed again as the group drank a toast to him and murmured their appreciation before they began to eat. The dinner started quietly; Kate couldn’t speak for the other guests, of course, but for her it was difficult to avoid thinking about the previous night’s events.
After a few minutes, however, the conversation began to flow more freely and Kate started to relax, enjoying the company of her family and friends. The room was warm and bright, the food was delicious, and as she looked around the table she realized that even in spite of what had happened, there was no place she would rather be. She reached under the table to quickly squeeze Edward’s hand, but he pulled away.
He had raced through his meal, in fact, and as she turned to look at him he pushed his chair back.
“What’s going on?” Kate asked.
Carter stood up and dropped his napkin onto the table as he turned to face Kate’s father. “Thomas, thanks very much for dinner. I hate to run off like this, but I have some extremely important business I left unfinished at the office.”
“Oh, I see…well, have a good evening, Edward. We’ll see you later.”
Carter leaned in close to Kate. “I would like to speak to you a moment in private,” he said quietly.
Kate rose and followed him out onto the porch, closing the front door behind them. “Edward, what’s wrong? Why are you leaving so soon?”
His stare was cool, without a hint of warmth, as if he were sizing up a lead ingot instead of looking at his fiancée. “Wasn’t it enough that the whole town saw you two together last night? Do you have to throw the whole thing in my face in front of our friends? In front of your family?” he demanded, gesturing back towards the dining room.
Kate’s jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about! You and Sam!”
“What do you mean, me and Sam?”
“Don’t be dense,” Carter said. “He rides in to play hero and suddenly you two are openly flirting right in front of everybody!”
“Edward, we weren’t flirting, we were just talking—”
“Oh, Sam, you’re so talented. Sam, I don’t know what I would do without you,” Carter said in a high-pitched voice, as if imitating Kate. “You should be ashamed,” he snarled.
She reached for his arm. “Edward, I was just trying to thank him, to tell him how I feel—”
“Yes, it was perfectly obvious how you feel about him,” Carter said, peeling her fingers from his arm. “I just wish you’d told him in private to spare me the humiliation.” He turned and went down the porch steps.
“Edward, wait,” Kate said. “I don’t want you to go. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please stay.”
Carter stomped over to his carriage and unwound the reins from the post. “No thank you,” he said, climbing into the carriage and turning the horses toward the road. “I’ve seen enough for one night.” He snapped the reins hard and the horses bolted forward; in a few moments he was already out of earshot, even if Kate had had anything else she could say.
She felt the familiar sting of tears building up, and the sight of Edward’s carriage retreating up to the road became blurred. Kate blinked and felt two tears blaze warm trails down her cheeks before she turned to go back inside. A final glance up to the road showed her that he wasn’t coming back. Not tonight, anyway.
She went directly upstairs to her room and locked the door. The sky was still streaked with the pink and orange light of a not-yet-setting sun, but it didn’t matter. Kate got undressed and crawled into bed, listening to the others below as the dinner went on without her.
She could hear the low buzz of conversation, with an occasional laugh mixed in; there was the clink of silverware on plates as they ate dessert, and eventually the shuffling sound of chairs being moved away from the table. A stream of footsteps flowed toward the door, and then she could hear goodbyes being exchanged just under her window.
“Tell Kate I hope she’s feeling better,” she heard Mrs. Thompson say. “She’s been through a lot. She needs to take it easy for a while.”
“I’ll tell her you said so,” her father said. “Thank you, Hannah.”
“Thanks for having us over,” Thompson’s voice boomed. “And Sam, again, well done.”
“Thanks, Mr. Thompson,” Sam said. “Good night.”
Kate heard the creak of the carriage seat as the Thompsons climbed aboard, then the nicker of horses as they were on their way.
“Well, I guess I’ll be going too,” Sam said. “Tell Kate I said good night.”
“I’ll do so,” her father said. “See you tomorrow.”
She could hear Sam go down the porch steps as the front door closed. Kate rolled over slightly and looked out the window; the light was failing now, but she could see him walking up the hill to his cabin.
She turned over and closed her eyes, letting her head sink into the pillow. Flirting with Sam. What a ridiculous, hurtful thing to say. As if she’d ever think of Sam in that way. As if she’d ever consider him—
Sam kissed me. The memory suddenly appeared in her mind, sharp and clear, as if a sculptor had thrown back a canvas to reveal his masterpiece. She hadn’t even realized it at the time—fright had clouded her senses and made her think only of getting away—but now she remembered clearly that as she had been curled in his arms atop Racer, Sam had definitely kissed her. Several times. Her fatigue disappeared as she sat up in bed, turning the memory over and over. Now she could remember the warmth of his lips on her skin, the scent of musk and leather—so different from Edward’s cologne—and the feel of his scruffy cheek against her own.
He had held her like she had belonged to him, like she was his own secret treasure. At the time she had thought nothing of it, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than she had first assumed.
Kate turned over again and looked out the window. She could see a light in the cabin now, occasionally broken by Sam’s shadow as he passed in front of the lamp. He saved me when I needed to be saved, and then watched over me for who knows how long last night. It’s like he’s always been watching over me, in fact.
A smile appeared on her lips as she thought back to their ride together. Her memory was still hazy, but she had now remembered his kiss. She remembered the feel of his body against her own, and his arms around her. She had felt nothing like it before—she had felt more than just safe at last. She had felt…like she was where she was supposed to be.
It must have just been my nerves, she thought. There was a lot going on last night. Still, I can’t imagine Sam ever speaking to me like Edward did tonight. She thought for a moment. No, she had never seen Sam angry or heard him utter even the slightest cross word to anybody. He would probably always be patient and respectful with me.
She reached into the nightstand drawer for matches and lit the lamp beside her bed. The fatigue that she had felt all day had disappeared; in fact, she felt full of energy. Kate rose from the bed and went to the closet for her robe, then lit the other lamp on the dressing table.
She returned to the nightstand drawer and withdrew the letter that she had started and then abandoned. Kate glanced at the paper, still entirely blank except for the words “Dear Laura?
??, then went to sit down at the dressing table to write. By the time she paused to review what she’d written, she had covered both sides of several sheets of stationery, explaining everything about Edward, about Sam, and about what had happened in the alley, omitting only the most frightening details.
She got to the last line, still unfinished: Sam kissed me, it read. She paused and closed her eyes, searching for the right words, then put pencil to paper. And it thrills me to remember it, she wrote.
She sat there, looking at the letter, almost not believing that she had committed it to print. Enough, she finally told herself, shaking her head as if that would dissipate these thoughts. One argument with Edward and I’m ready to jump ship? What kind of girl am I? She folded the letter carefully and placed it back in the nightstand, then crawled into bed and tried to clear her mind before she fell asleep.
The next morning, she took care to burn the entire letter in the kitchen stove before going about her day.