Her Captain's Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

him.
    Verity smiled and ushered Mary into her disordered kitchen. Wooden boxes with straw and crumpled newspaper packing covered the floor. “Thee sees what I mean?”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    Soon Verity and Mary were working side by side. Unwrapping jars of preserves swathed in newsprint, Verity was cheered by Mary Dyke’s companionship. She already missed her six sisters back in Pennsylvania and her kind neighbors. If she were to be able to accomplish both her public and private reasons for coming here, she needed to begin to learn about the people here. And she couldn’t forget that she’d come with a personal mission, too.
    Then Verity asked a question that had occurred to her on the way home. “Where is the school? I didn’t see it in town. I want to get Beth enrolled.” Verity paused to blot the perspiration on her forehead with a white handkerchief from her apron pocket.
    Mary didn’t glance up. “Ma’am, we don’t have a school in town.”
    â€œNo school?” Verity couldn’t keep the dismayed surprise out of her tone.
    â€œI’ve heard that there are free schools in the North,” Mary commented in a flat tone, not meeting Verity’s eyes.
    Verity realized she’d just insulted the town again. She racked her brain, trying to think of some way to open up this timid woman—not to gossip but merely to provide Verity with helpful information.
    Perhaps honesty would suffice. “I’m afraid that I offended many at the store this morning. I didn’t mean to, but perhaps I should have been less forward with my offer of payment. I hope I didn’t offend thee by offering to pay thee to deliver the bread.”
    When no reply came, Verity’s face warmed with embarrassment. “It’s just that I don’t know anyone here yet and I didn’t want to…I don’t know exactly how to say what I mean. I just didn’t want thee to think thee owed me anything. If we were back in Pennsylvania, I would probably have known thee all my life…” Why can’t I stop babbling? “Oh, I’m doing a terrible job of explaining.”
    Mary finally glanced her way. “No, ma’am, I think I understand and I wasn’t offended—or maybe I should say not much. You’re a Yankee, and I know Yankees don’t have Southern manners.” Then the woman colored red. “I mean—”
    Verity chuckled. “Now thee knows how I feel. And thee hasn’t offended me.”
    The back door swung open and Matthew Ritter stepped inside. “Mary!” he exclaimed.
    In the midst of lifting a jar of peaches to the shelf, Mary dropped it. The glass shattered, the yellow fruit and syrups splattering the floor, wall and Mary’s skirts. “Oh, ma’am, I’m so sorry!”
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    Matthew stood apart, saying nothing. Seeing Mary prompted scenes from childhood to flood his mind—playing hide and seek among the ancient oaks around Mary’s house, fishing at the creek, running in the fields with Dace and Samuel. Why did the widow have to be here as witness to the first time he encountered an old friend who was now probably an enemy?
    When the mess had been cleaned up, he took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry I startled you, Mary.” He wondered for a moment if she would try to act as if she didn’t know him.
    Mary turned toward him, but looked at the floor. “That’s all right, Matt. I just didn’t expect to see you here. Someone said they thought they’d seen you, but…”
    A strained silence stretched between them. A string of odd reactions hit him—his throat was thick, his eyes smarted, he felt hot and then cold. To break the unbearable silence, he nodded toward her simple gold wedding band. “You’re married, I see.”
    She still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Yes, I married Orrin Dyke. We have one son, Alec.”
    Orrin