Free Unforsaken by Lisa Higdon Page B

they precious?"
    The mother glanced up at the humans and meowed her agreement. Sarah whispered to the cat and gently stroked each baby. Olivia had never seen anything so tiny or helpless.
    "Their eyes aren't even open,” she breathed, watching the kittens blindly grope for their mother. One baby turned in the wrong direction and wailed pitifully as he searched for the warmth and security of his mother.
    Sarah carefully placed the frightened kitten at his mother's side and he quieted right away. The tour resumed, and Sarah led her through the vegetable garden to where the neat rows met the tilled expanse of the cotton fields.
    Olivia glanced over her shoulder and asked Matthew, “How is the planting coming along?"
    "Very well.” He moved to stand beside her and gaze out across the land. “Thanks to your help."
    She was struck by the pride and reverence in his expression as he studied the sprawling land. The place meant so much to him, more than the worth of the land or the promise of a lucrative harvest, and it shamed her to know that she had been reluctant to help him.
    He glanced down at her. “I'll never be able to thank you enough."
    She looked away, uncertain how to respond. Instead, she let Sarah lead her back toward the house, calling for her daddy to follow. They spread a faded quilt on the porch and ate the picnic lunch. Olivia was glad to see that Maddy had packed twice as much as they could eat. She would leave the remainder for Matthew to have the next day.
    When they had finished eating, Sarah lay with her head resting on Olivia's lap and drifted off to sleep. When she was sound asleep, Olivia eased the little girl onto the quilt and began repacking the food into the basket.
    "Tom Jennings told me that you and his wife had quite a row the other day."
    The statement shattered the companionable silence, and Olivia gaped at him, horrified to think what tales he'd heard, let alone Eugenia's insinuations regarding her motives for keeping Sarah. Straightening her shoulders, she did her best to sound disdainful. “I didn't realize men were such gossips."
    "Tom's afraid you'll hold Eugenia's insults against him. He's barely making it, Olivia. It wouldn't take much to ruin him."
    She got to her feet before he could stop her. “Tom Jennings wouldn't give a damn what his wife said to me if it weren't for the fact that I own the gin."
    "And the mill, the store and the bank."
    "I don't own the bank,” she snapped.
    "You might as well. Old man Perkins doesn't want you moving your money, and he'd foreclose on his own mama if you wanted him to."
    She only stared at him, wishing she could deny what he said. She had no intention of hurting Tom Jennings. He would get a fair price for his cotton, the same as everyone else. She wasn't, however, above letting him worry all summer long, dreading the moment he would pay the price for his wife's spitefulness. The relief he would feel would do nothing to warm his heart toward the woman who caused him so much grief.
    The idea had been appealing to Olivia, until now, with Matthew looking at her with such reproach.
    "Let me tell Tom there's nothing for him to worry about."
    She whirled around, turning her back to him. “It would be most improper for you to speak on my behalf to anyone. The gin is my business, and I'll run it as I see fit."
    She made her way down the steps, wishing she'd never come here with them. She eased into the old swing, surprised at how sturdy it felt, and stared down at the worn patch of ground at her feet.
    She flinched at the feel of his hands on her shoulders as he tried to apologize. “I shouldn't have asked you that, but Tom is a good friend of mine."
    "I—” Olivia fought the tremble in her voice. “I understand."
    His thumb traced the taut muscles at the base of her neck and she shuddered at the intimate touch. “Hold on,” he told her.
    "Hold on?"
    "To the ropes,” he explained, guiding her hand to the knotted ropes on either side of the swing.