Rebellious Heart by Jody Hedlund Page B

Maker. Our fathers have earned and bought it for us at the expense of their ease, their estates, their pleasure, and their blood.”
    He expected one of her quick rebuttals. But her eyes were deep, murky pools, as if she were swimming in his words and trying to make sense of them.
    Was there hope for her after all? Was she wise enough to listen and learn?
    Perhaps more colonists would be willing to take a stand against British oppression if they learned to think for themselves. Perhaps he and Gridley and Otis and others like them needed to make more of an effort to educate the people. Was the true source of their suffering because they were timid—too afraid to read, think, speak, and write?
    “Freedom as an inherent right,” she repeated, her lips seeming to taste the words.
    He couldn’t keep from staring at her lips and the delicate way they formed around each of the words. What would it be like to kiss Susanna Smith? Would she hold herself stiff and offer him a peck like Hannah Quincy had done the last time he’d visited her?
    Susanna hovered close enough that he could reach his arms up and easily bring her down on top of him for a kiss before she had time to realize what he was doing.
    Would she pull away or would she melt into him with all the passion that simmered beneath the thin disguise of her gentility?
    As if hearing his thoughts, her lips parted, just enough for her to release a soft, quick breath.
    His gut twisted with the sudden overwhelming need totest her passion, to find out for himself how she would react to him.
    He lifted his fingers to the errant strand of her hair that had tantalized him earlier. He touched it, letting his fingers graze her neck in the process.
    Her eyes widened.
    He held her gaze, refusing to break the connection. He couldn’t think. All he knew was that he was reacting to this woman in a way he’d never responded to anyone else. His need to kiss her and mingle his breath with hers was so keen it almost made him tremble.
    “You old dog!” Cranch’s boisterous voice sliced the thickness of the passion between them.
    With a sharp intake of breath, Susanna pushed away from Ben, breaking his contact. She dipped the brim of her hat and hid her face.
    The move was enough to awaken him from the spell she seemed capable of casting over him whenever they were alone together.
    “Good thing Mary and I came back when we did,” Cranch called, walking swiftly toward them with Mary at his side. Cranch grinned at him wickedly.
    A rush of embarrassment pushed Ben off his back. He sat up and tried to return what he hoped was a nonchalant grin.
    “Maybe you two are in need of a chaperone more than we are.” Cranch’s teasing was merciless.
    “I don’t know,” Ben called. “From all appearances, you were getting mighty cozy with Miss Smith.”
    Mary blushed prettily.
    Susanna was already making a move to rise.
    Ben jumped to his feet and held out a hand to assist her to her feet.
    Hesitantly she placed her fingers against his. Her touch was enough to make him forget reason again. And as he helped her stand, he couldn’t keep himself from leaning just a little closer and inhaling the sweetness of rose balm in her hair.
    When she was solidly on her feet, he didn’t relinquish her fingers.
    She gave him a shy smile. “I do hope you and Mr. Cranch will be joining us for dinner this evening.”
    Cranch groaned. “I’m sorry to say, we won’t be able to stay. I’m very sorry, but Ben has promised Hannah Quincy we would join her at your grandmother’s house this evening.”
    “Oh.” Susanna’s smile faltered. “Dear cousin Hannah.”
    Ben shook his head at Cranch, warning him against saying anything else. But Cranch was looking only at Mary. “I promised Ben I’d go with him to visit his girl, so long as he agreed to come here with me so that I could see mine.”
    Susanna slipped her fingers out of Ben’s, and her smile disappeared completely. “Your girl?”
    Ben shrugged and