Unforsaken by Lisa Higdon Page B

orders from me, and I won't have something like that coming between me and my wife."
    "What about farming? You said he owned land."
    "He had a small place ... nothing big.
    "I know of someone who needs help on his land."
    "Sharecropping?"
    "Not exactly ... this would be help with his own crops. Your brother-in-law and his family would have a place to live and I would see they earned enough to secure a place of their own next year. Would you ask him about it?"
    "You let me know where and when and I'll have them there."

Chapter Nine
    I wouldn't ask, except that Sam is in such an awkward position.
    I wanted to ask you first, before mentioning anything to Sam.
    The buggy jostled along and Olivia struggled to think of the best way to approach Matthew with what seemed to be the perfect solution to her problem. She didn't mean to lie to him, but if he even suspected she was doing this to help him financially he would balk. Like most men, his pride got in the way of common sense.
    Mindful that there might be snakes, Olivia picked her away around back of the house, steering clear of any tall grass. Thankfully, she caught sight of him just beyond the garden. She hadn't fancied the thought of waiting hours for him to return from the field. Still, she could have used the time to gather her thoughts completely.
    He was repairing a section of the fence separating the garden from the fields and took no notice of her hesitant approach.
    Sweat glistened across his bare shoulders and ran down his chest in rivulets, leaving the fine dusting of hair damp against his tanned skin. She couldn't help noticing how the hair narrowed at his waist and disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. She swallowed hard and tried to force the words that would alert him to her presence, but he must have sensed her watching him and turned toward her.
    "Olivia.” He was obviously surprised and his eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong? Where's Sarah?"
    "Oh, no. Everything is fine. She's attending a birthday party one of Aunt Eula's friend's is having for her grandson. You remember Mae Helen Randall, don't you?"
    He nodded and reached for his shirt, slipping his arms into the sleeves but not bothering to button it. When he turned back to her, his expression was all but contemptuous. “Then what are you doing here?"
    His curt manner stung, but she steeled herself for what she needed to do. “I need a favor."
    His expression registered surprise. “What kind of favor?"
    "Well, it's not really for me.” She tried to smile, but the wary look in his eyes warned her to skip any pretense. “My foreman, Sam, has relatives who've relocated here since the war. He needs to find them a place to live, and his brother-in-law needs work. I was hoping you might be interested in having some help with the cotton and all."
    "Why not just put him to work in your mill?"
    He turned toward the house, and she had to hurry to keep up with his long strides. “I offered, but Sam doesn't think it would work out."
    "If he's not the sort of man Sam wants working at the mill, what makes you think I'd want him around here?"
    "Sam doesn't want any of his relatives working for him,” she explained. “It can cause hard feelings, especially if he has to let them go."
    Matt nodded but didn't say anything as he dipped water from a pail and drank, draining the dipper twice more. Water trickled down his chin and mingled with the perspiration dampening his throat and chest, following the same path toward the flat plane of his stomach.
    "I still don't see what kind of favor I can do for you that would help."
    His words startled her, and she realized she had been staring at the span of his naked torso exposed by the gaping front of his unbuttoned shirt. Her face flamed, but she managed a hoarse reply. “The main thing is finding them a place to live, and you have that empty cabin just going to waste."
    His eyes grew wide with alarm. “I don't want a bunch of—"
    "It would only be