Wesley had always worked for Travis, but to escape he’d taken long trips all over the world. He’d drunk champagne from a beautiful woman’s slipper in Paris. He’d made love to a duchess in England, and in Italy he’d nearly fallen in love with a black-haired singer.
In the end he’d known he was deluding himself. He was a farmer and he’d never be happy away from the land. But, as soon as he had returned home, Travis had begun giving Wesley orders about five minutes after his arrival. And it was then Wes decided he had to get away permanently. The new state of Kentucky was said to have rich, fertile land and he went to see it. He loved the state and the people, people who had a feeling that things were moving and changing. He bought several hundred acres of land near a little town called Sweetbriar, repaired the house that someone had built years before, and returned to Virginia one last time.
But he’d no more than returned when his life was forever changed: he met Miss Kimberly Shaw. For the first time, Wes had felt he was looking at a real woman, a woman who was proud of being a lady. Kimberly couldn’t read a ledger of accounts, couldn’t even really ride a horse. What Kim knew about were sewing, pressing flowers, what colors to paint a house—and most of all, how to look up at a man and make him feel like a man.
Wesley began to imagine returning home from the fields to the pretty little house Kimberly would decorate for them, putting his head in her lap and letting her soothe away all the tensions of the day. No doubt she
’d have a dozen domestic crises a day, all of which Wesley would have to solve. Kimberly needed him. For the first time in his life Wesley felt wanted, felt as if he weren’t just another strong back that would do as well as any other. When Kim looked up at him Wes felt twenty feet tall.
Everyone kept warning him that Kim was helpless, but no one understood that that was just what he wanted. He didn’t want some woman who was as perfect as Travis, some woman who could run a plantation with one hand and raise children with the other. Kimberly was soft, sweet, clinging, and needed protection from all of life’s hardships.
And now he’d lost her! This winter when he’d worked so hard on his new farm he’d had time to regret his rashness in marrying the Simmons girl. He knew the story of how she’d remained on her father’s farm when she could have run away. But instead she’d stayed with her younger siblings and done the work of a couple of men.
Wes was sure she was a paragon of all the virtues; if he died tomorrow and willed her the Kentucky farm, she could no doubt run it single-handedly; in fact she could probably run it better than he could. But what no one seemed to realize when they were telling him “for his own good” that Kim was a helpless butterfly was that she was exactly what he’d always wanted.
Crumpling his hat, he put his hand on the doorknob. Whatever the girl Leah was, she was his wife and he had an obligation to her. Maybe she had planted herself in his arms, maybe she had planned to get some money from him, but since he had been dumb enough to fall for her tricks he deserved what he got.
“Lord, protect me from competent women,” he prayed as he went in search of Leah.
Chapter 6
Two minutes after she left Wesley in the library, Leah began shaking. At first she thought it was from anger, but she soon recognized it as fear. For the past year she’d tried not to think about what would happen when Wesley returned. She’d tried her best to hope that he’d hold out his arms to her and love her, but instead, he’d rejected her publicly.
Leah was accustomed to anger. Anger was what had fed her while she worked her father’s farm. Anger had kept her from giving in and being beaten down. Her father had taken away everything except her anger and her pride—and both of these had come to the forefront with Wesley.
But now that she’d vented her anger she was frightened. She didn’t want to go back, alone, to her father’s farm. For a year she’d lived within the heart of two loving families and she’d had hopes of having her own family. If she returned to the swamp she’d no doubt remain there the rest of her life. Perhaps with her weaving…
“Leah.”
Wesley’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Immediately she straightened her shoulders. She was standing in the hallway and had no idea how long she’d been there feeling sorry for herself. “Yes,” she said coolly, and braced herself against another of his attacks. This was the man she’d dreamed of so long and she’d thought that when she got him all her problems would be solved, but actually they were just beginning.
“I came to apologize,” he began, watching her. She was pretty, he thought, in a haughty sort of way. Her eyebrows peaked in the middle, making her look arrogant, willful. “I haven’t really had time to think over your plan but it sounds as if it could work. I don’t imagine you want to stay here in Virginia any more than I do and I do have a duty toward you.”
“No,” she said quietly, her eyes smoky dark. “You have no obligation toward me. I have always taken care of myself and I will continue to do so. Our marriage will be dissolved and you’ll be free of me.”
The corner of Wesley’s mouth quirked, but not in amusement. “I’m sure you’re able to take care of any number of people, but would you rather farm that bit of filthy swampland you own or come to Kentucky and—what is it you want to do—weave?”
It flashed through Leah’s mind to wonder what she’d ever seen in this autocratic man to ever think she cared about him. He offered her this choice as if he were amused because he knew how it wasn’t really any choice at all. How she’d like to toss his offer back into his face! But for all her pride, she wasn’t going to do something stupid.
“I would rather go to Kentucky,” she snapped angrily. “But I want it known that for all I am a Simmons and not of your class, I pay my own way. I will never be a burden to you.”
“There was never a question of whether you would be a burden to me. I’m sure you can handle anything,” he said with a hint of disgust.
He would have said more but a whisper of “Wesley” behind him made him turn. Kimberly stood there, her soft body encased in swirls of light pink silk, her big eyes already filling with tears.
Before Wes could move, Kim pressed the back of her hand to her parted lips and in the next second she started a slow sink toward the floor, her lashes fluttering prettily.
Wesley caught her in his arms long before she hit the floor. Sweeping her up, the pink silk floating about him, he looked down at her with concern. “Water!” he commanded to Leah, who was standing motionless. “And brandy!” Wes added as Leah turned away.
“My darling,” Wes whispered as he sat down with her on a long bench against the wall.
Leah had never seen anyone faint before and she was sure Kimberly was dying. Lifting her skirts, she took off for the kitchens at a run.
“Leah!” Regan called, starting to run after her. “What’s wrong? Did Wesley—?”
“Brandy and water,” Leah demanded from the head cook. “And quick.” She turned to Regan even as she grabbed the tray handed her. “Miss Shaw just fell to the floor. I think she’s dying.” With that she started running again.
“Kimberly faints regularly,” Regan called. “And don’t let her have too much of that brandy. She likes it too much.”