Tamera Alexander - [Timber Ridge Reflections 01] Read Online Free PDF Page B

you aren’t about to let me off without telling me.” He shifted, feeling the weight of past days—of past years—pressing down hard. “So why don’t we just stand right here and let you get it off your chest so we can move on.”
    Her arrogant little jaw slipped a notch.
    Good thing. It’d give her time to gather her thoughts, if she had any worth gathering. She was a Yankee—that much became clear the second she’d opened her mouth. Daniel swung his gaze to the Negro beside her. The man made no move to speak, but neither did he look away, as Daniel had half expected him to.
    His stare was steady, solid, yet lacked overt challenge.
    Daniel didn’t hold anything against his kind, not really, and hadn’t for some time now. He’d be the first to admit he hadn’t known a Negro man in any way but one, and that world was long passed. The war had seen to that. He found the man’s open-faced gaze uncomfortable to hold overlong and stooped to get his hat. He knocked it against his thigh. “While you’re figuring out that cost, ma’am, I’ve got work to do.” He smoothed back his hair and resituated his hat on his head. “It’ll take me the better part of the day to get this animal field-dressed and back to town. Hopefully I’ll make it before sundown.” He’d never seen a woman’s face go crimson quite so fast.
    “You have cost me an opportunity that I’ll likely not have again. The animal, the setting, the light . . . Everything was perfect. Not to mention my time here is limited.” Her hands sliced the air as she spoke and seemed to fuel the upset inside her. “And your only concern is getting this”—she briefly glanced down—“ animal back down the mountain?”
    The only nugget Daniel had gleaned from her tirade was that her time here had a limit to it. Another good thing. Studying the firm set of her jaw, he was reminded again of why he’d moved to this sparsely populated territory a decade ago, and why he’d chosen to live a far piece from Timber Ridge. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people. He did. He just liked most of them better from a distance.
    People were bringing change to these mountains. Change he didn’t welcome. First the miners came, gouging and blasting a path to riches, leaving an ugly and indelible mark. Now opportunists from the North arrived, daily it seemed, promising to leave a similar legacy. Only they cloaked their business endeavors in the guise of progress, same as they’d done after ransacking his plantation and devastating his family. After crushing the South.
    The woman before him lacked the grace and charm of a Southernbred lady, but she wasn’t wholly lacking in attractive qualities, despite the fatigue she wore. The color of her hair was fetching enough. A reddish-gold that captured the light and returned it. But the way she had it fixed . . . The masses of curls pinned tightly to her head reminded him of corkscrews—some long, others short—and they bobbed about her temples when she spoke, as though possessing minds of their own. And ornery ones at that. Not unlike their owner, it would appear.
    Unbidden, an image came to him of what she might look like with that pile of curls unpinned and loosened about her shoulders. That would surely be an improvement, but as tempting an image as that created, that mouth of hers and where she hailed from canceled out any interest he might’ve pursued in another time and place.
    Still, a good mother’s training tended to reach deep inside a boy, setting roots that held fast, even when that boy became a man.
    He tipped his hat back an inch to make sure she could see his eyes and looked squarely into hers. “My apologies for any harm I’ve caused you, ma’am. It didn’t come by intention, I give you my oath.”
    “How kind and considerate of you, sir.” Arsenic laced her pretty smile and dimmed her former beauty. “But your oath isn’t going to get me back my photograph.”
    Why, the feisty little —Daniel’s