Where Love Runs Free (Tales from the Upcountry) by Caroline Friday Page B

shoe, getting her attention.
    “That’s right,” Angelina lied. “Night and day.” She forced a
smile in Ben’s direction, but he just looked away and gazed at Isabella.
    “Thank you, Mr. Eagle-Smith,” Isabella whispered. “Thank you
for all you did.” Her voice sounded dry and parched, like she had been stranded
in the desert for days.
    “Ben,” he said. “Call me Ben. And it was my pleasure.”
    Angelina bit her lip, suddenly feeling the urge to smack him
hard for the way he was looking at Isabella right now. She resembled a china
doll, perfect and flawless in every way, even down to the filed fingernails on
the soft, pale hands. Instinctively, Angelina clenched her fists and hid her
hands behind her back. Her fingernails were dirty from spending time with the
horses, and her palms were calloused about as bad as Tom’s in some places.
Suddenly, she felt haggard and “worn out” as she had heard her mama say,
whereas Isabella seemed fresh, like a piece of fully ripened fruit.
    “I guess I oughta get back to Mighty Wind,” Ben said. “I’ll
be back later on today.”
     “Yes, let her rest,” Ella said, leading him toward the door.
“You can come on back before supper.”
    Angelina ignored Ella’s glare and followed Ben outside,
taking long strides to catch up with him. “Ben?” She grabbed his arm, but he
slung it away and made his way toward the stable. “Ben!” Her blood boiled at
him ignoring her like this. “You trying to make me jealous, is that it? You’d
think you could pick someone better than Isabella Richardson!” Still, he
refused to turn around. She followed and grabbed his arm again, and this time
he stopped. “You won’t even look at me when I call your name?”
    He finally turned and stared her in the eye. “You wouldn’t
answer me last night. Not in front of him .”
    “I need time, don’t you understand? You said you’d wait.”
    “No,” he said, his words sharp and penetrating. “I won’t
wait for you to do to me what your mama did to Tom.”
    “I’d never do that to you. I told him I’m not going to marry
him. Isn’t that enough?” Ben stared at her with a hard look, and she knew what
he was thinking—he wanted far more than what she could give him right now. “Ben.”
She touched his arm, which felt strong and firm under the cotton shirt.
Suddenly, his eyes softened, revealing the tenderness from last night. “You
really think all I care about is money and this farm?”
    “No,” he said, his voice filled with sadness. “You care
about something else.” She moved into his arms, wanting to feel his lips on
hers, but instead, his mouth brushed against her ear and he whispered, “The
Raeford name.”
     “No,” she murmured, speaking into his shirt, feeling the
shame of accusation wash over her.
    “What’re you gonna do when I win that race? What then?” His
eyes blazed with condemnation and judgment. “You think I’ll be good enough
then? Will I ever be good enough?”
    “That isn’t fair.”
    “May be. But it’s the truth.”
    “It’s not. It’s not true.” His eyes glistened with emotion, indicating
that he wanted to believe her, but something was holding him back. “Listen to
me,” she pleaded. “When you win, I’m gonna help you sell that land of yours for
a pretty penny.”
    “No, Angelina.” Anger flashed through his expression, and he
pushed her away.
    “I heard some of the men from town talking about it the
other night,” she said, following close behind as he made his way to the barn.
“It’s worth a bundle, even though Edward hasn’t done a thing with it. Then you
can come live here and be my foreman, take over when Tom retires. I know how
much you love Fairington. We could make this into the biggest, best horse farm
in the whole state.”
     “I’ll never sell. Never.” He stared her down as his teeth
sawed against each other, frightening her more than ever. “That’s my home, and
it’s where I plan on building