Read Little Love Affair (Southern Romance Series, #1) for Free Online

curve and tried to keep the smile from his lips. She had barely spoken to him in the past days, and yet sometimes when he looked up at dinner, he thought he saw her eyes resting on him, almost curiously. What was she thinking behind those blue eyes? Did he dare hope that he occupied her thoughts as she occupied his? He had very nearly driven the scythe into his foot while he daydreamed of her smile.
    He wondered what her laugh sounded like.
    As he walked over the fields to the farmhouse, the glint of movement caught his eye: a horse and buggy, with a lone man in a dark coat. He drew up at the wagon hitch as the laborers passed by, and Jasper felt a flicker of fear when he saw the man’s eyes catch on him. New. The other laborers nodded respectfully, and Jasper copied the movement.
    “Cyrus!” Clara’s mother came out of the house with a smile on her face. She held out plates to the laborers, a hearty spread of beans and bacon, sliced tomatoes, and a hunk of bread.
    “Misses Dalton.” The man inclined his head gracefully, now hardly sparing a look for the men who filed past him. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his golden-brown hair swept neatly to one side, and his clothes were well made, better even than Jasper had worn before the war. “Dare I hope that Clara is here?”
    The familiarity in his tone made Jasper sick. He forced himself to sit in the shade of the chestnut tree nearby, looking determinedly down at his food, aware of the sudden flush in his face. He knew that tone, desire barely restrained by politeness. Why should she not have a suitor? She was a beautiful woman, the eldest daughter, with a farm for a dowry.
    It did not stop him from stabbing his food with rather more force than was necessary.
    “She’s inside, at work on the books.” Millicent’s tone was warm and Jasper, looking up, saw her turn to call in the open kitchen door. “Clara! Mister Dupont is here.”
    It took longer than Jasper would have expected before Clara appeared at the kitchen door. Her face appeared composed, but blank. Was it too hopeful to think that there was reluctance in the set of her shoulders?
    “Cyrus.” Her voice, if reserved, was familiar. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
    “It’s been too long since I checked in on all of you,” the man said warmly. “I wanted to make sure you were well and to see if there was any help you needed.”
    “Good of you,” Clara said. There was the very faintest edge to her voice. “As you can see, all is well.”
    “What a fine job you’ve done with the farm,” Cyrus said. His smile was open and broad. “The harvest looks good this year—enough for you to hire another hand.” His eyes flicked sideways to Jasper and narrowed when he saw the man watching.
    Jasper looked down hastily at his food. The last thing he could afford was for this man to take notice of him.
    “Indeed.” Clara’s face might have been made of stone.
    The silence stretched, and Jasper tried to keep from smiling into his food. At his side, the other laborers were oblivious to the conversation. Either they did not care at all for the goings-on in the house, or this scene had been repeated often enough that they were now numb to it. He hoped it was the latter.
    “Perhaps you could show Cyrus the improvements that have been made to the farm,” Millicent suggested finally.
    “Of course.” Clara’s hesitation was minute.
    “Perhaps we could discuss some future improvements to the orchard,” Cyrus suggested, and Jasper saw Clara’s face go stony.
    “Oh?” Her voice was dangerous, but Cyrus did not seem to notice.
    “Of course,” he said jovially. He smiled down at Clara, who had walked slowly down the steps.
    “Then let us go.” She turned before he could proffer his arm and made her way for the barn.
    Jasper, walking to bring his plate into the kitchen, bit back a laugh at the man’s expression. He regretted it as soon as Cyrus looked over, scanning the fields. Their eyes met, and