Free Southern Seduction by Brenda Jernigan Page A

Travis’s smile was wide, his teeth strikingly white in his tanned face. “Hardly.”
    She took a quick breath of utter astonishment. He’d actually smiled, and what a difference it made in his appearance. She found it impossible not to return his disarming smile.
    “In Louisiana, we cut the cane before it matures. I actually planted early this season, so I could make sure to harvest before the frost. However this year it has turned cooler earlier, so it will be close.”
    Brooke nodded. “I heard that frost wasn’t good for the crops, but why?”
    “If we have a frost it will destroy the sugar content. We can’t even store the stalks because the sugar turns bad too quickly. Once we start the process, we must work nonstop until it’s complete. You’ll see workers out in the fields all night at harvest,” Travis explained.
    “Something wrong, boss?” A tall, thin, middle-aged man rode over to them. He carried a dangerous-looking whip tied to his saddle, and Brooke wondered if he used it on the workers. She hoped not. The man’s white straw hat shadowed his eyes and his shirtsleeves were rolled up past his elbows.
    “Nothing is wrong, James,” Travis said as he leaned on the pommel. “How is it going?”
    “We’ve sent ten carts to the mill already this morning. Looking like it’s going to be a good harvest.”
    “I’m hoping,” Travis agreed, “but it’s still too early to tell. I’ll be back as soon as I show Mrs. Hammond the mill.”
    Tired of being ignored, Brooke said, “You could introduce me.”
    Travis turned to her and lifted an eyebrow. He let out an exasperated breath, then finally said, “Mrs. Hammond, this is James, my overseer.” Travis turned to him. “James this is Mrs. Hammond, my business partner.”
    Brooke could have sworn that Travis gritted out the last between his teeth, but she forced herself not to smile. At least he was halfway cooperating. It was a small step forward.
    Perhaps the man did have potential training after all.
    She did note the surprised look on the foreman’s face, but he masked it quickly. Brooke felt uneasy about the man, but she didn’t know why. Could be his dark eyes, she thought. They were too small for his face and they shifted continuously.
    Finally, he doffed his hat. “Ma’am,” was all he said, then he turned back to the field to continue his work.
    Travis led the way through several fields of cotton and corn, and Brooke noted the many slaves working the fields. What tremendous pressure Travis carried on his shoulders. No wonder he stayed grumpy, she thought. She probably would feel the same way. However, it was a job he seemed to handle well. Everyone looked to him for answers.
    Hopefully, once day they would also look to her for the answers.
    The midday sun was now high in the sky, baking the earth. Accustomed to the misty days of England, Brooke basked in the warmth. How different from home , she thought as she rode.
    A slight wind blew her hair. Her hairpins came loose and they began to slip out one by one. Brooke really didn’t care. It felt so lovely to be riding in the fresh air and wild country, instead of boring Hyde Park where the gentry went just to see how one was dressed. Seeing this beautiful country made London seemed like a long-ago memory. Brooke didn’t miss anything about the city.
    They paused at one of the cotton fields, which looked more like a field of snow than cotton. “I’ve never seen cotton growing before,” Brooke said. “It’s amazing that cloth can be made out of something a plant can produce.”
    Travis nodded in agreement.
    “How old were you when you came to Moss Grove?” she asked.
    “Sixteen.”
    She shook her head. “Such a young age to take on so much responsibility.”
    “Sometimes one has no choice, Brooke.”
    “That is one thing you don’t have to tell me about,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve been in that situation more than once.”
    His single statement tugged at her heart. Brooke