Free Her Beguiling Bride by Paisley Smith Page B

enough to attract one.”
    * * * *
    A chill pervaded the air as the sun sank low over the tops of the trees. Belle trudged toward the goat barn, not really seeing the surroundings she knew by heart: the rushing creek, the old cur, Brownie, that traipsed along at her side. Instead her mind ran rampant with the conversation she’d had with Granny earlier.
    Jeff Davis bleated as she neared. He trotted toward her with the usual mischievous spring in his step. Everyone else feared him. Belle loved the cantankerous animal and joked that he was a better judge of character than any of the two-legged inhabitants of Rattle and Snap.
    He jerked his head as he fell into step beside Belle. “What are you doing, you grand rascal?” she asked him, grabbing one horn to give him a playful tug.
    He bounced on his hooves and then jogged toward the barn.
    Usually the buck goat lightened Belle’s mood but not tonight. Was Granny right? Did she need to find a man? She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and drew in a sharp breath. What about Alice? The thought of being with a man again seemed so strangely foreign to Belle now that she didn’t even want to consider it.
    A shudder shook her spine as she stepped into the shadowy barn. At once, the pungent but familiar scents of animals and hay filled her nostrils. She expected the jostling of the goats vying for position to be milked, but her heart skipped a beat when a figure emerged from the darkness.
    Belle gasped.
    “I didn’t mean to scare you,” Alice said, thumbing her slouch hat back on her head. Waning light from the outside illuminated her strawberries-and-cream complexion.
    “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here,” Belle said breathlessly. Even though the brigands who’d harassed them during the war were now rotting in the ground, she was ever vigilant.
    Alice stepped toward her, removing one of her gloves as she reached to cup Belle’s cheek. “I couldn’t think about anything but you all day.” Alice’s voice was low and husky, tinged with the slightest Irish accent.
    Belle’s stomach tensed as she turned her face more fully into the cool palm. Guilt welled that she had even been considering Granny’s suggestion that she find a man. This woman had become Belle’s life, and as such, she met her every need and desire.
    “What’s wrong, love?” Alice asked.
    Belle drew away. “I’m just cold,” she lied as she pulled down her milking stool from the peg.
    “I’ll warm you up,” Alice whispered playfully.
    Belle shrugged away as Alice tried to draw her into an embrace.
    “What’s wrong?” Alice asked again, folding her arms over her chest. “And this time tell me the truth.”
    Belle sank onto the short three-legged stool as the first doe sidled into place to be milked. Munching sounds filled the small barn as the goat pulled at the hay in the trough. “Granny told me the Yankees are fixing to raise the taxes on Rattle and Snap,” Belle confessed.
    “I was afraid of that.” Alice exhaled. “Well. We’ll just have to produce more cotton this year.”
    Belle shook her head. “The carpetbaggers and land speculators are trying to get the plantation to sell it off piecemeal. It won’t matter what we do.” She gripped the goat’s udders and milked. Instantly milk sprayed into the metal pail.
    “Granny thinks you ought to find a man, doesn’t she?” Alice asked pointedly.
    Without looking up, Belle said, “Yes.”
    An uncomfortable silence ensued. Alice finally took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Do you think that’s what you need to do?”
    Belle twisted around. “Of course not!” The goat protested with a rumbling bleat but never raised her head from the trough.
    Something flashed in Alice’s eyes.
    “Of course not,” Belle said softer this time. “I…I don’t know what to do.”
    Alice scuffed one booted foot on the hay-strewn floor. “Belle, if you need to—”
    “I don’t want to hear any talk of me letting a man solve my