Tennessee Waltz Read online

  When she met Lonnie's mother and father, she realized the boy's reserved nature came from his father, because his mother was more bubbly and vivacious than anyone Sarah had ever met.

  "Come in, come in," Pearl Fraiser insisted, and Sarah complied as Wyn and Lonnie walked off with Lonnie's father.

  The cabin was as neat as a pin, and a lot better furnished than the one she'd visited last night. It was much larger, too, although she knew from her chats with Mandy that Pearl only had the one child, Lonnie.

  A corner of the living room was taken up by a huge loom, and Pearl picked up a brilliant green shawl lying across the chair beside the loom.

  "Granny Clayborne said to give this to you," Pearl said. "She's my great-granny, and she said I was also to tell you that there'd be a blanket waitin' for you at the MacHoolihans when you go there to visit."

  "How beautiful!" Sarah enthused. "But I didn't bring my reticule to pay you for it."

  "Ain't one penny owed," Pearl admonished. "My boy Lonnie is enjoyin' learnin' for the first time in his life. And I 'spect you'll find the same thing at the MacHoolihans, you try to give them anything for the blanket. She's my sister-in-law, and we been a'talkin' 'bout how my Lonnie and her Chester don't even need to be reminded to read a verse from the Bible every night a'fore bed. They's enjoying readin' so much, I had to holler at Lonnie to get on to sleep and not waste the candle the other night."

  By the time Sarah left the Fraiser cabin an hour later, she in all rights should have felt that she was the best teacher this side of heaven. Instead, she found herself worrying about living up to the expectations of the mountain people. True, her charges had soaked up knowledge the past couple weeks like thirsty sponges, but there was so much yet to teach them. At least with the joy of reading she was instilling in them, they could continue their education on their own time, given the availability of books to read. And soon that should be a lot more convenient.

  As on the trip out, Wyn was mostly silent on the return trip. The trail tonight was even narrower than the other one, and they couldn't even think of riding side-by-side until nearly back at the store. Wyn led the way directly to her cabin again and dismounted, holding up his arms to assist her.

  As soon as he put her on the ground, he dropped his hands from her waist. Someone had lit a lantern and left it in the window beside her door — Mandy probably — and she could easily see his face. He bent down and kissed her gently, then whispered a good night, turned and led the horses away without another word. She had to make a distinct effort to unclench her fist and open her door.

  Inside the cabin, she closed the door and leaned back against it. She knew she should feel guilty over Wyn's kiss — her betrothal committed her to Stephen, and she was betraying her sacred word, although Stephen knew nothing about it. Yet the strength of will and determination she had built up over the years deserted her in the face of her growing feelings for Wyn.

  In an effort to prove herself undeserving of her father's verbal denigration of her worth beauty-wise, she'd always totally adhered to the various rules and restrictions of her society. Still, she had never received one voluntary touch or even a nod of approval from her father. Stephen's touches and brief kisses, too, were consistently more dutiful than spontaneous.

  Wyn freely gave his caresses — his touches — his kisses. As hard as she tried to doubt the apparent honesty of his actions, she couldn't dredge up the words to tell him to never touch her again. She sighed deeply. Since she couldn't find the gumption to fight against the pleasure Wyn gave her, she would just have to continue to enjoy it, at least for the time she had left in the mountains.

  ~~~~

  The next few evenings passed in much the same way, and Sarah finally made the last visit to a student's parents. She returned with the blanket from Pearl's sister-in-law. After Wyn had kissed her and left as usual, she entered the cabin and smoothed the blanket over her bed before she took her supper out of the oven. The blanket she would keep, but the shawl was already in the package over at the store, along with the letter she'd written to her attorney. Tomorrow Jeeter was due, and the package would be on its way to New York.

  It was a long letter, and she'd concentrated on it for several nights in the late evenings after her returns from her visits. Preparing it, both the instructions and the questions, kept her mind too busy to pick apart her feelings for Wyn MacIntyre. But after lights out, it was a different tale.

  Even with her disturbed sleep pattern, Sarah was up with the dawn the next morning. A Saturday, she didn't have to teach, but she would probably still see several of her students and their parents. Today Jeeter was scheduled to arrive, and she felt confident there had been enough time since her first letters to New York for at least a few things to start arriving. She couldn't put off talking to Mandy any longer.

  She hurried over to the boardinghouse and arrived just as Mandy was taking the coffeepot off the stove.

  "Sarah!" Mandy said. "Goodness, you're early. I haven't even baked the biscuits yet."

  "I'll help you, Mandy. But can I talk to you about something first?"

  "Of course, but let me pour our coffee. I'm not worth a thing in the mornings until after a couple cups of coffee."

  A few minutes later, Mandy appeared wide awake, despite only having drunk half of her first cup of coffee. She leaned her elbows on the table and looked at Sarah warily. She'd been hoping for a completely different reaction from Mandy, but at least she had her attention.

  "Let me get this straight, Sarah." Mandy took another sip of coffee and kept her cup close to her lips. "You've written to your friends and pastor back in New York and asked them about sending books here. And you thought perhaps one of my extra rooms would make a nice lending library for the families to use?"

  "I'll be happy to pay you your normal rate for the room, Mandy," Sarah said enthusiastically. "These books will be extras that would have gone into boxes to be stored in attics or just tossed in the trash. I've seen lots of people do that when their personal libraries get too full, and the children here can get lots of use out of those books. I'll even pay you a salary as the librarian, so you'll have a steady income and not have to depend on hit and miss business from your boardinghouse."

  Mandy finished her coffee and rose to get another cup. When she returned to the table, she carried the pot and offered to refill Sarah's cup.

  Sarah chuckled. "My cup's still full, Mandy. I've been so busy talking I haven't touched a drop of coffee."

  Giving a sigh, Mandy set the pot down and reclaimed her chair. "Sarah, I think you have a wonderful idea, but I wish you'd checked with me before you went barreling ahead and having those books sent. Did you say Jeeter would probably start delivering them today?"

  Sarah's stomach clenched at Mandy's attitude. "Well, yes," she forced out. "Please tell me what I've done wrong, Mandy. Why, most of these families only have a Bible to read, and those books my friends have would just go to waste otherwise. Channing Place has several boxes in its attic alone!"

  "Let's don't get too worried yet." Mandy rose and, carrying her coffee cup with her, started for the kitchen door. "You said you'd help with breakfast, so why don't you start the biscuits while I go over and see Dan for a minute. I should be back before the biscuits are done, but if not, feel free to help yourself. There's fresh butter and persimmon jelly on the shelf right inside the pantry door."

  Start the biscuits? Sarah thought about calling after Mandy to tell her she had no earthly idea what the biscuit recipe consisted of, but the other woman was already down the hallway and out the front door. She couldn't decide for several minutes if she should be more worried about not baking the biscuits or whatever it was that Mandy had to consult with Dan about.

  Her growling stomach decided her, and she saw the bowl in which Mandy always prepared the biscuit dough on the counter, a towel draped across the top of it. Hesitantly, she approached the bowl and lifted a corner of the towel.

  Thank goodness. The dough was ready.
All she had to do was dust the flour over the counter and roll the dough out. Then cut out the biscuits with the mouth of a fruit jar and place them on the baking sheet to stick in the oven. She'd watched Mandy do that many times of a morning. It couldn't be that hard.

  Chapter 15

  All thoughts of whether or not Sarah had brought on some trouble for herself fled when Mandy paused at the door to Dan's bedroom. She knew from discussions with Wyn that Dan tried to be as independent as possible. He washed and dressed himself, shaved himself, and only tolerated anyone except himself moving the wheelchair if he was totally exhausted. But she hadn't known Dan was trying to learn to transfer himself from his bed to his wheelchair on his own.

  She clapped her fingertips over her lips to hold back her cry of astonishment and froze on the threshold of the partially open door. He stood — yes, stood — there between the bed and wheelchair, then slowly swiveled and collapsed in the chair. The chair flew backward several feet, but Dan caught the wheels and halted it before it hit the wall.

  He glanced up and saw her. Placing an index finger to his lips, he whispered, "Shhhhh. It's a surprise for Wyn. This is the first morning I've been able to do it alone."

  Mandy couldn't keep from rushing to his side. She laid a hand on his shoulder, blinking against the tears misting her eyes.

  "Oh, Dan! How long have you been trying to do this?"

  "Seems like all my life," Dan said with a chuckle. "But I reckon it's just been the last six months of so. Doc MacKenzie said it wouldn't hurt me none to try. And I'm dad blasted sick and tired of having Wyn take me to the outhouse and help me sit."

  Mandy felt her cheeks flush at his frankness, but she patted him on the shoulder. "I can imagine. How far do you think you'll be able to go? Maybe even walk some day?"

  He shrugged, his firm muscles shifting beneath her palm. He had lost none of the hardness of his upper body, what with using his arms to motivate in the wheelchair. He also helped Wyn unpack supplies and stock the shelves, because she'd seen him do it. He'd had Wyn make him a box to put on his lap, and he filled it with goods. He couldn't reach the higher shelves, but he kept the lower ones stocked.

  Yes, the exercise kept his upper body trim, even developed. His shoulder was quite solid beneath her touch.

  Dan cleared his throat, and Mandy jumped, pulling her hand back. Land sakes, she'd been standing there actually rubbing her palm across his shoulder! And now she became aware that Dan had said something else. Blushing furiously instead of faintly this time, she backed away.

  "Uh . . . I'm sorry. I . . . didn't hear what you said."

  "Now, Mandy," he said in a teasing tone. "You were standing there with your ear right beside my mouth. And I know for a fact you're not nearly old enough to start losing your hearing. You're forty-six, the same age as me, and my hearing's as sharp as it ever was."

  "I . . . was distracted." She nodded her head emphatically. "I came to talk to you about something Sarah has done, and I had that on my mind."

  "Maybe when you first came over here that's what you were thinking about, Mandy," Dan said in a quiet voice. "But I'd be willin' to bet you were thinkin' about somethin' else just a second ago — when you were touching me like a woman touches a man. Maybe the same thing I've been thinkin' about for a while now. Maybe the same thing that's another reason I've been trying to get back a measure of my independence."

  A glimmer of hope flickered and grew in Mandy. She and Dan's wife, Maria, had been best friends while Maria lived. Both had been fairly new to the mountain as young brides. Maria had given Dan children, but Mandy hadn't begrudged Maria her happiness. Oh, she had been a tiny bit jealous, since her own womb remained barren, but she enjoyed Maria and Dan's children almost as much as she would have her own.

  She'd had an otherwise wonderful life with Calvin. They had been as much in love the day he died so unexpectedly from a heart attack at the young age of forty as the day they married. He and Dan were as good a friends as she and Maria, and when possible, the four of them played whist or cribbage in the evenings after the children were abed.

  They always celebrated the holidays together, and once, before Maria had the twins, they'd even managed to get another woman friend to stay with Maria's children while they took a trip together to Lynchburg. That had been the trip that resulted in the friendship between Dan and the senator, which allowed Wyn his chance to see a few things beyond Sawback Mountain.

  "Mandy." Dan rolled his chair closer and picked up her hand. "We've had a lot of years to get to know each other, haven't we? Were you remembering all the good times we had with Calvin and Maria?"

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "And a minute ago, were you starting to realize that I'm also a man and not just the widower of your friend?"

  "I've been aware of that for quite a while now, Dan." She whispered again, unable for some reason to talk any louder.

  "Maria and Calvin are dead," Dan mused, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand. "We were two lucky couples, because we loved our mates real and true. But we're still alive, and I've been noticin' for a while now just how very much alive you are."

  She stared helplessly into his blue eyes. "It could be just the convenience of living so close together. Just habit."

  "And it could be friendship that's blossomed into something deeper. Don't you think we oughta give ourselves a chance to find out? We're both mature enough to decide somethin' like that for ourselves, don't you think?"

  "I'm . . . I'm sure old enough." She grimaced. "Way too old to be thinking that another man might be interested in this old body."

  Then she gasped in dismay and tried to jerk her hand free from Dan's hold. "I . . . oh, I'm sorry, Dan. I know . . . I mean, I suppose you . . . not having any feeling and all down . . ."

  With one swift effort, he pulled her onto his lap. She gasped again and tried to free herself, but Dan only wrapped his arms around her and laughed at her useless struggle. The developed body she'd been admiring had absolutely no problem holding her captive.

  "You are a definite lapful, Mandy Tuttle," he said with a chuckle. "Perfect for a man to get a good hold on and enjoy every inch of that hold. And if you don't quit squirmin' around like that, you're gonna find out just exactly how much feeling I do have left down there."

  "Ohhhh . . !"

  Dan's lips cut off her astonished cry.

  Wyn stood stunned in the doorway of his pa's bedroom. That danged sure looked like Mandy Tuttle on his pa's lap. And it danged sure looked like his pa was kissing her. What's more, it looked like Mandy was kissing his pa back, what with her not struggling any longer to get off his pa's lap and having her fingers wrapped across the back of his head.

  A huge grin spread over Wyn's face, and he leaned against the doorjamb, slipping the tips of his thumbs into his belt. Looked like Leery might be right about at least one marriage in his family.

  After an extraordinarily long time, the two people sharing the wheelchair broke the kiss.

  "Oh, Dan!" Mandy said.

  "Oh, Mandy," his pa said with a chuckle in his voice.

  But when Dan trailed a finger down Mandy's neck and it looked like he might be heading toward the full breast touching his chest, Wyn harrumphed to get their attention.

  Mandy's eye flew to the doorway, and she blushed as red as a summer cherry tomato. She wiggled on his pa's lap as though she wanted to get up, but his pa held her in place with hardly any trouble. Either that, or Mandy wasn't really trying that hard to escape.

  "'Member what I said about what I can feel, Mandy," Dan said.

  Her eyes widened, and Mandy stilled on his lap.

  "What do you want, son?" Dan asked in a mild voice.

  "Well, same thing I always want about this time of a morning," Wyn replied. "To help you into your chair. But looks to me like you've already done that."

  "Sure have, son." Dan winked at him. "And I'm a hopin' I'll be able to do lots more than that pretty soon. Soon as Doc MacKenz
ie gets back, I'm gonna have another talk with him. But in the meantime, I figger to keep working like I have been on doing a little bit more each day for myself. Don't figger on settin' out the rest of my days on the porch with a blanket over my knees."

  "I'm sorry, Pa. I know you get agitated with me when I won't let you do stuff yourself. I just want to take the best care of you that I can."

  "You've been taking darned fine care of me and everyone else in this family, Wyn. But from now on, I want you to wait till I ask you for help. That all right with you?"

  "I think that's a great idea. Now, I'll leave you two . . ."

  "No!" Mandy evaded his pa's hold this time and jumped to her feet. She gave Dan a teasingly triumphant look, and Wyn had to suppress a chuckle.

  "You might want to hear this too," she told Wyn after she focused her attention on him. "I'm not real sure what to say to Sarah about it, so that's why I came over here to speak to you and Dan first."

  Wyn frowned and walked on into the room. "What's wrong with Sarah?"

  "Nothing's wrong with her," Mandy denied. "It's just that she's come up with what she thinks is a wonderful idea, and she told it to me a few minutes ago when she came over before I even had breakfast started. But I'm not sure what folks around here will think about it."

  "What is it?" Dan asked.

  "She wants to start a library, and she's already sent back where she's from and asked for a bunch of books. She seems to think some of them will start arriving as soon as today."

  "Damn it," Wyn said, then, "Aw, shoot, I apologize for cursing in front of you, Mandy." He sat down on the side of his pa's bed. "But I was hoping that when Pa paid Sarah for that grave marker and from what she's seen around here so far, she'd know she can't go tossing her money around. Folks here don't take to charity. You know that as well as I do."