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Chapter Seven

Haven awakened late in the morning to ribbons of sunlight frolicking over her covers. Stretching her arms over head, she crawled from bed and crossed the room to the kitchen to prepare a pot of tea. She'd have to grab a quick cup and a biscuit before heading to the main house to help with preparations for the get-together today.

After berating herself for sleeping in so late, she flipped through several dresses in the armoire and discarded the light cotton prints and a long-sleeved, drab brown ensemble she'd never been fond of. In the end, she selected a long, gray skirt and salmon colored blouse and hoped she'd made the right choice to meet Pratt and Charlotte's neighbors and friends. They'd arrive soon for the large feast Charlotte had been preparing all week, and she didn't want to look like the typical spinster school teacher.

After dressing, she sloshed down a cup of lukewarm tea and ate the biscuit on the way to the house. Charlotte, Pratt and Emery were lounging on the porch and smiled as she walked up the steps.

"We couldn't have asked for finer weather." Charlotte snuck a peek at the sky overhead while Pratt filled a cup with coffee and handed it to her.

"I apologize for oversleeping and hope I'm not too late to help with last minute preparations."

"Enjoy your coffee." Emery nodded her into a rocking chair and returned to the list in his hand. "Charlotte finished the desserts this morning, Pratt's lined up his casks of apple brandy, homemade dandelion wine and lemonade, and I just finished setting up tables and benches in the barn."

Haven frowned. "Now I do feel guilty. There must be something I can help with."

"Not a thing," Emery said. "And by the way, you look lovely."

Pratt and Charlotte nodded in agreement.

"Thank you. Trying hard to avoid the schoolmarm look."

"Schoolmarm?" Emery smiled. "Who, other than an outdated man, would use such a term?"

When Emery and Haven shared a laugh, Pratt and Charlotte exchanged glances. "What did we miss?"

"Nothing of importance, Charlotte. Cade Kincannon seems to like the word."

"Speaking of Cade, I hope he remembers and shows up."

"I reminded him the other day when Haven and I ran into him at the hotel." Emery looked over his spectacles at her. "I have a feeling he'll be here."

A wagon pulled into the yard, followed by several others. Haven didn't have time to dissect Emery's comment about Cade while following the others down the steps and into the yard.

For the next thirty minutes, Haven was introduced to every resident in the county it seemed. Her head swam with names, more so as she tried to remember the faces that went with them.

She'd been introduced to Justine and August Rux, neighbors to the north. And soon after, George and Anna Marsh who descended from their wagon with three children, Esther, Rachel, and Henry. Neighbors to the west, Frank and Lydia Powell and their four youngsters, Madeline, Christine, Charles, and Thomas stepped forward to meet her, and neighbors three miles down the road, the Brinkerhoffs, Harriet and Ezra, with their five children, Elizabeth, Jacob, Carmi, Jesse, and the youngest, Helena, lined up to greet her. After that, she lost track of how many others extended their hands and smiled through introductions.

While parents moved on to greet other neighbors and friends, most of the children swarmed about her like hummingbirds, firing endless questions about what they'd be studying in school.

Eventually, one of the mothers rescued her from the mass of curious eyes and raised hands with a soft-spoken but firm admonishment. "Run along now, children, you have all afternoon to corner Mrs. Morgan."

Thankful for the temporary reprieve, Haven sucked in a long breath and then decided to test her memory. "Let's see," she said to her fingers. "Esther and Rachel Marsh, ages seven and nine; Christine, Charles, and Thomas Powell, six, seven, and nine, oh, and Jacob, Carmi, and little Helena Brinkerhoff, seven, eight and nine, and—"

A tap to her shoulder startled her. "Ready to take the next train back to Guilford?"

"Oh, Emery, you scared me, and interrupted an important evaluation of my ability to remember names."

He gave her a dismissive wave of his hand. "You won't conquer that feat until they're seated before you in the classroom. I went through a similar test and failed."

"I suppose you're right but I did hope to get a head start on associating names and faces. And, no, I have no plans to purchase a train ticket any time soon."

He leaned in and lowered his voice. "You were counting on your fingers."

"Ah, which means you were spying on me."

"Observing, I swear, although I do admit to a small bit of chuckling."

"I'm happy to be your source of amusement, friend."

Haven followed Emery's intent gaze while another transport traveled up the drive and came to a halt near the barn. She meant to ask him about the newest arrivals, a man, a woman and a young lady, but since Emery made haste to greet them, she would have been speaking to vacant air.

Curiosity compelled her to watch the scene unfold. Emery lifted the younger woman from a seat in the back of the wagon, crutches and all, and then lowered her to the ground.

Walking beside her, he led her in Haven's direction, and moments later made the introductions. "Allow me to introduce Annie Bower."

Haven smiled and clasped her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Annie."

"And you, Mrs. Morgan. We're so happy to have a new teacher at the school."

She looked youthful with her blue eyes and silky blond hair, but her demeanor and self-assured nature bespoke of worldly pursuits…as if she'd spent countless hours buried in books. "You're not at the country school now, are you?"

"No, although I do miss it. I attended at one time, but now Emery…that is, Mister Woodward, tutors me." Her warm, genuine smile transformed her face. "He told me all about your arrival when he dropped off my lessons and supplies this week."

""What's your favorite subject then?"

"Art is number one with English a close second."

"Art, how interesting. Do you draw or paint?"

A blush came to her cheeks when Emery stepped in. "Annie is a skilled artist, pastels and charcoals, mostly, but she shines at outdoor scenery and character sketches."

"I also have a fondness for art so I look forward to seeing your work."

"You can count on that Mrs. Morgan."

Charlotte appeared to say hello and then Emery led Annie away to rejoin her parents. Haven watched them until they were out of sight; certain she detected adoration in Emery's eyes whenever he looked at Annie.

"Annie had a terrible accident when she was eight." Charlotte clucked her tongue against her cheek. "Been crippled ever since."

"How old is she now?" Haven asked.

"Eighteen, so she no longer attends school." Charlotte paused. "Emery and Annie spend a lot of time together and he's taken quite a shine to her."

"Hmm, I'd say it's more than a shine."

Looking at her askance, Charlotte's brows rose. "Really? How on earth did I miss that?"

"Not sure," Haven said with a short laugh. "It's written all over his face. By the way, how old is Emery?"

Charlotte placed a finger to the corner of her lip. "I believe twenty-three now."

Charlotte and Haven continued their conversation about love, its pitfalls, its wonders until a commotion near the long, gravel road drew their gazes.

"Well if it isn't our Cade Kincannon."

Our Cade, indeed. All smiles and gleaming eyes, clearly Charlotte liked the man and seemed delighted he'd made an appearance. Haven made a point of keeping her expression passive. If only she could explain the acceleration of her heartbeat.

Denim trousers and black boots hugged his lean body, and the white, cotton shirt showed off his tanned face and neck, evidence of working in the elements. A wide-brimmed, black hat topped off the rugged look. After greeting people, he obviously knew, he pivoted and walked toward them. Haven ran her hands down the gray skirt and wished she'd worn one of the casual, cotton dresses she'd snubbed that morning.

Cade grabbed Charlotte's hand and affected a slight bow with a smirk. "How is it you grow lovelier with time?"

"What a smooth talker," she said with a half-hearted attempt to dismiss him with a flourish of her free hand. "No wonder women flock to you like bees to honey."

Under the sun and in close proximity, Haven studied him. The man was truly a thing of beauty. The defined angles of his face, copper skin and streaks of sunlight dancing through his thick, dark hair contributed to his overall masculine persona. If Cade was nothing else, he was pure male, a very attractive male.

"You two have met if I remember."

Not sure she could speak in a clear, distant voice, Haven nodded.

He turned to her, the silver eyes luminous and bright beneath the afternoon sun. "We met on the train the day she arrived and again last week in town."

"Yes." Haven had settled her nerves. "Emery and I ran into Cade and . . ."

"Mare, Mare Davenport."

"That's right, Mare." She caught Charlotte's eyes. "They were having lunch at the hotel."

"How is Mare doing these days, Cade?"

"Fine." He glanced around the yard. "I thought she might be here by now. She said Budge had promised to bring her. "

Haven asked, "Budge, that's her brother, right?"

"Yes." A short laugh left his lips. "If she can talk him into taking a day off, that is."

Charlotte stepped in. "He is a hard worker. Wants to do right by Mare after they lost their parents. They haven't arrived yet but I do hope they show."

"I look forward to meeting Budge," Haven lied. "Emery's told me so much about him."

Cade's eyes narrowed when he looked at her. "He isn't much for dances but he can cut down a tree faster than a den of beavers." The corners of his lips curled into a smirk. "If you're looking for the lumberjack type."

"Nice to know but I'm not looking, Mister Kincannon."

"That's right, you mentioned you were married."

Charlotte glanced between them and then repeated the action. Had the woman also noticed the tic in Cade's jaw or had her own eyes shifted from plain green to emerald…like they always did when emotions ruled her heart? Knowing Charlotte, she sensed the current of tension in the air.

An eternity passed while Cade held her gaze. At last he turned away and spoke to Charlotte again. "Think I'll grab a glass of Pratt's brew and catch up with you later."

"Last time I saw Pratt he was in the barn stirring the apple brandy." A bewildered expression masked Charlotte's face. "He'll be glad to see you."

He tipped his hat in her direction, a direct cut if she’d ever seen one. "Mrs. Morgan."

The moment he was out of earshot, Charlotte placed a hand on her arm. "Why do I get the strange feeling I'm in the dark again?"

Haven tugged on the sleeve of her dress. "I sounded rude and I apologize. Cade Kincannon and I got off on the wrong foot, I guess."

Now she'd done it, offended one of Pratt and Charlotte's guests, a man they seemed to hold in high esteem. She didn't know why the man got under her skin. He both intrigued and frightened her. That is so not true, stupid girl, and you know it. He intrigues you but the fear is your own, has nothing to do with him.

"When you get to know him a little better, you'll see he's a very nice man. In fact, you'd make a fine couple."

"I'm certain he is nice, but whatever his redeeming qualities, he's not for me. I've-I've sworn off men."

"Pay no mind to my matchmaking tendencies. Speaking out loud, more or less." Charlotte's tone turned serious. "I do hope one day you'll change your mind about finding love again. I know it hasn't been that long but I hope one day you'll open your heart to the possibility."

She had to turn the conversation, lest she lapse into memories, fall into a cesspool of despair in front of everyone. "Maybe one day. Right now, the most important thing on my mind is teaching."

"Good." Charlotte hooked her arm through hers. "Let's go see what Pratt's up to and mingle a little."

Haven nodded and allowed the woman to lead her toward the throng of people in the yard. Nothing like a flutter of activity and lively conversation to keep your mind off dark thoughts.

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