Read The Outcast for Free Online

the Confederate Cause. It wasn’t for slavery, though the Manor owned its share. It wasn’t for state’s rights. She had no political leanings and considered the windy debates tiresome at best. It was a feeling that came over her slowly, steadily as she fought to keep the Manor going during the absence of its menfolk. A slow, growing attachment to the land, to tradition, to roots sunk deep into fertile soil. And, for the firsttime, she understood her father and Deacon’s obsession.
    “It’s more than buildings, Patrice, more than property,” her father had told her. “It’s your heritage, a place of belonging. You don’t own it; it possesses you.”
    Apparently, Reeve couldn’t understand these things, or he wouldn’t have chosen the path he did. He had no ties to the land or family. His disrespect for all his father stood for was well-known. Why else would he turn his back on continual pleas for him to take his place within the Glendower home? He allowed what should have been his to pass to Jonah; the land, the house, the responsibilities … her—without a fight, without regret. What did he know of loyalty, of love? Admire him? Hardly! Coward was what he was. A shameless, turncoat coward. She struck at the tears clinging to her lashes, refusing to let them fall.
    Jonah had proved to be the better man. He’d done the correct things. He’d given his heart, his soul to the Glade and Pride County. He’d surrendered his own personal dreams to become the son his father desired—the one Reeve refused to be. He’d given himself over to the betterment of the county, devoting his intellect and his time to the formation of the Pride County Bank helping his neighbors, his friends reach for a promising future. And he’d wanted to share it all with her.
    She closed her eyes, picturing Jonah Glendower. Handsome, reed-slender, awkwardly self-conscious, bright, always a kind word and quick smile on his lips, never a glower clouding the sincerity of his gaze. A scholar, not a scrapper like his older brother. Why hadn’t she ever appreciated his goodness,his strength while blinded by Reeve’s blatant appeal? She’d taken the quiet, gentle Jonah for granted, and, now, there was no way to make that up to him.
    Take this ring and be my wife. Make me the happiest man on earth.
    She accepted his proposal begrudgingly, spitefully, because she couldn’t have Reeve. How ashamed she was of her shallow motives for promising herself to a fine man. He hadn’t deserved the rebound of her affection.
    Just as she failed him when he was alive, she vowed to honor him in his death.
    Jonah Glendower died a hero, and she would be his living tribute for the rest of her days. She would act his widow as surely as if they’d been wed. She would mourn him and avenge him as was her duty, to make up for her frivolous disregard for such things when they would have meant something.
    And as such, Reeve Garrett could be nothing more than the object of her scorn and hatred. There would be no weakness where he was concerned. She owed her determined stand to the memory of Jonah, to her father, to all those who’d died defending their homeland.
    Reeve Garrett had had his chance to hold her heart.
    Now, he would know only her contempt.

Chapter 3
    Zeus stood alone in the renowned Glendower stables. Stalls once holding the finest thoroughbreds in the country were empty of all but soiled bedding. Harness tracings oiled with pride until the leather reflected mirror-bright, hung dry and cracked in disarray. Such neglect, even by him, would have earned a horsewhipping from the squire, who held as much pride in the state of his stables as in the prestige of his home … perhaps more.
    “Easy, boy,” Reeve crooned as he slipped in beside the animal. Velvety lips plucked affectionately at his shirt buttons. With brush in hand, Reeve began soothing repetitions along the dark hide, coaxing a lustrous sheen. Aside from the occasional twitch, the animal stood