From This Day Forward by Margaret Daley Read Free Book Online

her from taking deep breaths.
    She quickly stepped away, inhaling. “Where is your apron?”
    “This is not my first time. Besides, I borrowed only one from my sister’s cook.”
    “Your sister? Is that where you went earlier? Back to Charleston?”
    “No, this cabin is near their plantation, Liberty Hall. Sarah and her husband also have a house in Charleston. They travel back and forth between the two homes. Your farm is on the other side of their land, along the river. I didn’t see my sister this morning. She’s still in Charleston.”
    Rachel had more questions, but Nathan pointed to a sack and said, “You will need flour.”
    By the time the bread was made, Rachel understood the need for an apron—at least for herself. She was not sure if more flour was on her or in the bowl. With Nathan dogging her every step, often correcting her, she did manage to put together some dough for baking bread.
    Rachel inspected what she had mixed together. “This does not look very big for several loaves of bread. Perhaps one, but not two. Are you sure you told me everything?”
    “The dough has to rise first then we bake it.” He moved to stand next to her at the table. “Here, let me show you how to knead it. Then we will place it by the fire to rise.”
    Nathan put his large hands into the dough and began to press and fold it. Looking at his fingers working the mixture, she could imagine them doing the same to her taut shoulder muscles, easing the stress and ache from them. Also the knot at her nape where her spine throbbed with tension. Her eyes slid closed.
    “Rachel, is everything all right?”
    His deep gravelly voice intruded on her daydream and yanked her back to the present. She swallowed and tried to smile, wishing for once her cheeks did not flame with her embarrassment. Her mother had always told her it was easy to read her feelings on her face. She hoped Nathan—she had given up calling him Dr. Stuart halfway through her baking lesson—could not.
    He veiled his expression. “ ’Tis your turn.” He stepped to the side to allow her to stand in front of the bowl.
    “This is a lot of work for two loaves of bread,” she mumbled and touched the dough with the tips of her fingers. She pressed down, and her hands sank into the gooey mixture. The strange sticky substance clung to her skin. She wrinkled her nose and brought her hands up, globs hanging from them.
    “Do it again and again.”
    She followed his instruction, submerging her fingers back into the dough. This time she tried putting more strength behind the effort.
    After a few minutes of observing Rachel, Nathan chuckled and moved behind her. “At this rate, we will starve.” His arms came around her, his hands covering hers in the bowl. “Here, let me show you what I mean by kneading.”
    With him guiding her, she smashed and squeezed the dough over and over. Caged by his embrace, Rachel tried to calm her heartbeat, but it had a mind of its own. Surrounded by Nathan—or so it seemed—she hardly knew what she was doing. His scent of the outdoors toyed with her senses, shoving away the aromas coming from the bread mixture and focusing her awareness on the man inches behind her. The feel of his body as it bumped against hers lured her. She wanted to lean back against him—an impulse that had nothing to do with being tired.
    Abruptly he stopped, whisked the bowl off the table, and took it to the fire. “That should do it.”
    All she saw were the strong, tall lines of his back. Her legs went weak, as though her energy had drained from her instantly. Oh my! Resisting the urge to fan herself, she wiped her hands clean on a cloth then sat on the stool lest she collapse. She gripped the edge of the table to steady herself and leaned into it for support.
    He turned from the fire, his expression unreadable. “Now for the cake.”
    “What do I do?” she managed to ask in a whisper—a weak one at that.
    “Nothing. You are going to sit and watch this