Lady of Light (17 page)

She soon had everything put to rights. Evan glanced up at her from one of the rockers. “Come, sit for a spell, Claire.” He extended a hand toward her. “It won’t be suppertime for another couple of hours, and I know you must be tired.”

From the smaller bedroom, Claire could hear Ian snoring softly. He was the wise one, she thought. But now that she was finally here, she found she couldn’t sit still.

“Nay,” Claire said, shaking her head. “Suddenly, I find I’m no longer weary. Do you think Abby needs some help with the meal? Might as well begin learning about American cooking.”

He studied her thoughtfully, and a gleam of desire slowly ignited in his eyes. “I’m sure Abby has everything under control. But, if you’re feeling so energetic, I suppose we could test out our new bed. I haven’t had a moment’s privacy with you since our wedding night and, since we’ve the time …”

At his words, Claire drew up short. Suddenly, their bedroom took on a special appeal. “Aye, that’s a fine idea, Evan MacKay. You’ve indeed been sadly neglecting me.”

A grin on his lips, Evan rose. “You’re not a shy girl, are you? About what you want, I mean?” He walked toward her.

With a gay laugh, Claire danced from his clutches and hurried over to close Ian’s bedroom door. Then, with a twirl of her skirts, she wheeled about and scampered off to their bedroom. Grinning, Evan quickly followed in her wake.

An hour later Claire lay in Evan’s arms, contentedly watching the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Their loving had been passionate but now, in its tranquil aftermath, she marveled at how totally fulfilled she felt. Until she had wed Evan, she had never known what it was to feel so close, so united with another. It was truly one of God’s most wondrous gifts, Claire mused, this physical and spiritual joining of a woman and man.

With her fingers she drew random circles on her husband’s hair-whorled chest, but Evan slept on. His face was relaxed, peaceful. It filled her with such satisfaction to know she was part of that peace, that she could give joy and completion to such a kind, wonderful man. And here, in the isolation of their little bedroom, Claire almost imagined they were the only two people left in the world.

It would’ve been far simpler if they had been. But most times when one married, one accepted not only one’s spouse into one’s life, but his family, too. Not that Conor and Abby didn’t seem like wonderful people, Claire hastened to add to herself. It was just that she’d had so little time with Evan since they were wed. There was still so much to discover about him, and about herself, as his wife.

Well, Claire thought with a soft sigh, there wasn’t anything she could do about his family. And, no matter how difficult the days and weeks to come might be, they would always have this room. This room and this bed where no one could ever intrude.

A knock sounded at the front door. Claire frowned. Had they overslept? Were they late for supper?

She slipped from bed and quickly dressed. Evan dozed on. Quietly closing the door behind her, Claire hurried across the parlor, all the while patting her errant curls into place.

A tall man with dark brown hair, a long, lush mustache dipping well past the corners of his mouth, stood there. He wore boots, blue denims, and a white-and-blue striped shirt. In his hands, he held a Stetson.

“Good evening, ma’am,” the man said. “I’m Devlin MacKay, Evan’s cousin.”

He looked quite attractive in a rugged sort of way, his features craggy, his nose slightly irregular, as if it had once been broken. Though nearly as tall as Conor MacKay, he appeared to carry a few more pounds of muscled bulk. As imposing as he was, though, his rich, warm brown eyes were kind as they gazed down at her.

“Aye, that you are,” she replied with a grin. “I immediately noted the strong family resemblance.”

“And you must be Claire, Evan’s wife. Is he about? I’d like to talk with him, if I could.”

“Aye.” She stepped aside, indicating he was to enter. “Evan’s asleep. Why don’t you have a seat while I wake him?”

Devlin hesitated. “I could come back some other time.”

“Nay.” Claire shook her head. “It’s past time he began to stir. Abby invited us for supper”—her glance snagged on the small clock sitting on the table—“and we need to be joining them in a half hour’s time.”

He took a chair at the table. “Then I’d be much obliged, ma’am.”

“Claire. Please, call me Claire. After all, we’re kin now.”

A tentative smile lifted the corners of Devlin’s mouth. “Claire it is, then,” he said softly, as she turned and headed for the bedroom.

Evan was still asleep. For a brief moment more, she watched him, a sweet sense of loving possession flooding her. Then Claire walked to the side of the bed he was closest to, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Evan? It’s time you were waking.” She shook him gently. “Evan? Wake up.”

He smiled and captured her hand in the big, warm clasp of his own. “I must be dreaming.” He inched open one eye. “A beautiful, fiery-haired woman is in my bedroom.”

Pulling her down until she leaned across his chest, Evan scanned her face. “Why don’t you climb back in bed with your husband? I can think of all sorts of pleasant things we can do.”

Claire laughed, placed a quick kiss on his mouth, then reared back. “Nay, there isn’t time for such ‘pleasant things’ right now. Your cousin Devlin has come to see you, and he awaits in the parlor.”

Evan went very still. His mouth tightened; his eyes narrowed. “Devlin, you say?”

Before she could answer, he pushed her gently away and shoved up in bed. “Well, reckon there’s no time like the present to have it out with him.”

“What’s wrong, Evan?” Claire watched him slide from bed and begin to dress. “Are there problems between you and Devlin?”

“You could say that.” He gave a humorless laugh. “There have always been problems between me and Devlin.”

“And exactly what kind of problems might those be?”

Evan finally met her glance. “It’s a long story, and not the time to go into it, what with Devlin waiting on me.”

“Well, don’t you think it’s past time you and he were settling those problems? You’re kin, after all.”

“Yeah, I know.” Evan, clad only in a pair of clean denims he had taken from the room’s small chest of drawers, sat back on the bed and pulled on socks, then his boots. “It’s not that easy, though.”

“It’s easy enough, if you forgive him and he forgives you.”

He donned a red cotton shirt, buttoned it, then tucked it into his denims. “Maybe that’ll come someday. I just don’t know if it’ll be anytime soon.”

“He seems nice enough.”

Her husband shot her a quizzical look. “And you could tell that from just a few minutes of talking to him?”

She shrugged. “Father MacLaren always said I was quick about such things.”

“Well,” Evan drawled, his mouth softening into a grin, “I can’t recall you being that quick when it came to me. If I remember correctly, you didn’t seem to like me at all when you first met me.”

“On the contrary, I liked you far
too
much, and that frightened me. Hence, I tried to keep you at arm’s length.”

Evan walked to the door, then paused. “Well, be that as it may, I’d advise you not to make any snap judgments about Devlin. He can be mean and unpredictable.” With that, her husband opened the door and strode into the parlor.

Claire rose from the bed and walked to the doorway. She saw Evan draw up before his cousin. For a long moment both stared at each other, their expressions inscrutable, the tension fairly crackling between them. Then Devlin smiled and held out his hand.

“Welcome home, Evan. It’s good to see you again.”

Evan didn’t return the smile or accept the proffered hand. “Is it really, Devlin? Good to see me, I mean?”

“I don’t hold any grudges.” Devlin’s hand fell back to his side. “Why not put the past behind us and start fresh?”

“No, I don’t imagine you
do
hold any grudges,” his cousin ground out. “After all, you got what you wanted.”

Devlin’s gaze skittered to Claire, still standing in the bedroom doorway. “Maybe it’d be best if we took this outside.”

At his words, Evan seemed to remember Claire’s presence. He turned, glanced at her, and reddened. “Yeah, maybe we’d better.” He grabbed up his Stetson from the hook by the door. “I’m going outside to talk with Devlin, Claire,” he announced. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

With that, the two men turned and headed out the front door. Claire stood there for a time. Then, with a rising sense of uneasiness, she walked back into the bedroom.

10

A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city.

Proverbs 18:19

Evan set out for the old cottonwood growing off to one side between the bunkhouse and Devlin’s ranch house. He could hear his cousin’s footsteps behind him, but he refused to slow his pace to allow him to catch up. Only when he finally halted beneath the tree’s shady cover did Evan turn to face Devlin.

“Well, spit out what you came to say, and be done with it,” Evan growled. “I’ve got a new bride waiting on me, and I’d rather spend my time with her than on the likes of you.”

Devlin pulled up before him. He smiled faintly. “Yes, you do, and a right pretty little lady she is. Congratulations on your marriage, Evan.”

With a curt nod, he barely acknowledged the friendly overture. “Heard you and Hannah finally got hitched. Don’t expect me to congratulate you on that.”

His cousin’s gaze never wavered, though Evan knew his own expression must have been hot enough to scald the feathers off a chicken. However, before he could follow his scathing retort with another harsh comment, Devlin sighed, removed his Stetson, and ran a hand roughly through his hair.

“I was hoping you’d have made your peace about what happened with Hannah, before you came back. I was also hoping you’d gotten over her, especially when Conor told me you were bringing a wife home.”

Evan could feel the blood warm his face. “I
have
gotten over Hannah,” he snapped. “I wouldn’t have married Claire if I hadn’t. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the underhanded way you stole Hannah from me.” Bitterly, he shook his head. “No, a man doesn’t forget something like that, especially from his own kin.”

“So, it’s me you’re still mad at, and not Hannah? Is that how it is, Evan?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Devlin rubbed his jaw. “Well, that’s good to know. Can’t say as how I care much for your hard feelings for me, but it would’ve near to broken Hannah’s heart if you were still mad at her, too.”

“Well, she made her choice, didn’t she?” In spite of himself, Evan couldn’t quite hide the acrimonious edge to his words. Shame filled him. He bit his lip and looked away.

When had he become such a hard-hearted, vindictive man? Evan wondered. Hannah had always treated him with caring and compassion. And Devlin was his cousin.

Still, the wound Hannah had inflicted when she had chosen Devlin over him wasn’t as well healed as he first imagined. And Devlin … well, they had never seen eyeto-eye on anything. He couldn’t ever recall a time when they weren’t butting heads over one thing or another.

“I told you before, and I meant it, Evan. I want us to start fresh.”

The sound of Devlin’s voice, rich with entreaty, pulled him from his embittered musings. Evan swung his gaze back to his cousin’s. “Why’s it so all-fired important to you now? It never seemed to matter much before if we got along.”

“Things have changed. My life’s changed.” For a moment Devlin looked down, rolled the brim of his hat between his hands, then lifted his glance back to Evan. “Hannah’s come into my life, and so has the Lord. I’m trying to see things differently now, and treat folk better.”

Evan stepped back and shook his head. “Fine words, Devlin, but I think I’ll just hold off a bit and see how well you live up to them. Can’t say as I much trust you, not after all we’ve been through.”