Free In a Stranger's Arms by Deborah Hale Page B

“Somebody must’ve used it once upon a time.”
    “Heaven knows there’s plenty of woodland around these parts.” Manning gestured toward the window and the stand of mature hardwood visible through it. “We could buy timber from the folks hereabouts and help them get back on their feet, too.”
    As he waited in silence for her answer, the children ran past, shouting and laughing, with Sergeant barking at their heels.
    Manning ventured one last appeal. “This place belongs to your boy. The final say is yours. I’d like us to have a fighting chance to make a go of it, though.”
    Tentatively, perhaps reluctantly, Caddie nodded. “If we make a decent profit from the mill, perhaps we could purchase some breeding stock. Get back into it, gradual like.”
    “That sounds like a fine idea.” Somehow Manning found himself happier with this honorable compromise than if Caddie had agreed to his plan right away. “I’ll give the mill a good close inspection tomorrow, to see what repairs it will need. If I have time afterward, I’ll ride into Mercer’s Corner and post some notices for a crew to run the mill and others to let folks know we’ll soon be looking to buy wood.”
    The direction of their future settled, Manning headed off to tackle a few more small repairs around the house before sundown. Once Caddie had gone to bed, he would lock up the house and turn in. The last thing he wanted was another embarrassing encounter like this morning.
    He’d gone a few steps up the back stairs when another thought struck him. “While I’m in town,’’ he called down to Caddie, “I’ll see if I can hire someone to help you around the house.”
    “Can we afford that?” She sounded almost offended by the suggestion. “I’m quite capable of managing on my own.”
    Was she talking about a hired girl, Manning wondered, or about him?
    She’d been forced to accept his help, but she resented the necessity—that much was clear. When it came to Varina’s stubbornness, Manning didn’t think that little crabapple had fallen far from the maternal tree.
    He turned and looked back at Caddie—tattered, overworked, but somehow still regal. Her fierce pride and bullheaded independence would not make it easy for him to fulfill his vow. He couldn’t let it stop him, no matter how much he admired those qualities.
    “We all need help now and then, ma’am. There’s no shame in accepting it.”

Chapter Six
    “ Y OU ’ RE A FINE one to talk about accepting help with good grace, Mr. Forbes.” Caddie’s voice echoed in the bare entry hall. She shot Manning a challenging look as she donned her bonnet.
    A full week had passed since their negotiated agreement to reopen the old sawmill, yet they still hadn’t engaged a single worker. Despite the notices Manning had put up all over Mercer’s Corner no lumber contracts had been forthcoming and no girls from the neighborhood had inquired about the housekeeping job. Caddie intended to find out why.
    “Give it a little more time.” Manning raked long fingers through his dark hair.
    Stiffened with sweat, it stood on end like the bristles of a corn broom. It shouldn’t have looked the least bit attractive to a fastidious woman like Caddie.
    But it did—damn it.
    “Your neighbors probably don’t get into town that often,” Manning protested. “Word will find its way around in time.”
    “It certainly will.” Caddie spoke in a brisk tone as she pulled on her last decent pair of gloves. “For I intend to spread it myself. You need a crew of good workmen to finish the repairs on that mill. Mark my words, if you keep trying to do everything by yourself, you’re going to wind up injured. Or else get yourself run down until you fall ill. I’ve lost one husband, sir. I can’t afford to lose another.”
    Was it her imagination, or did Manning’s complexion suddenly take on a grayish pallor? The stormy look in his steel-blue eyes was surely more than her fancy. Could the man be that set