Lady of Light (31 page)

“Och, aye, and that’s yet another subject that needs discussing.” Though Claire had been hesitant earlier to broach the topic of Beth, now seemed as good a time as any. “Miss Westerman claims you and Beth spend far too much time together, that you both need to make other friends.”

“And do you think I care what Miss Westerman thinks? She’s but a mean-spirited spinster who can’t abide seeing two people who love—” As if realizing he had said too much, Ian clamped shut his mouth.

Claire, however, was quick to pounce on her brother’s slip of the tongue. “Are you saying that you and Beth—”

“Nay.” Vehemently, Ian shook his head. “I didn’t mean it how it sounded. Forget what I said.”

“She’s thirteen, Ian, and you’ve just turned sixteen. You’re both too young to be talking of love.”

He shot her a seething glance. “I told her you wouldn’t understand, and I was right.”

“Och, Ian … Ian,” Claire moaned. She took him by the hand and led him to a fallen tree trunk, where she sat. “Sit,” she then ordered, motioning to a spot beside her on the tree. “We both need a few minutes to collect our wits here.”

“Naught has happened, nor will happen, Claire,” her brother growled as he took his seat. “I know Elizabeth’s too young. But I can’t help wanting to be with her. Is that so wrong?”

“Nay, it isn’t wrong, brother,” she softly replied. “But there comes a time in a young person’s life when some feelings rise so strongly they can easily overpower good sense. And, though I can’t speak for Beth, I’d wager you’re now well into that time of your life.”

“She makes me feel verra special,” he admitted. “And the few times we’ve kissed …”

“Ian, don’t you see the complications that your relationship with Beth presents?” She turned to face him, struggling to explain, to warn him before it was too late, even as Claire secretly wondered if it weren’t already too late. “Beth’s parents are gone for a time, and Evan is now responsible for his sister’s welfare. If Beth’s and your friendship continues to deepen, as it seems to be doing, Evan might be forced to step between you, forbid you to be with each other. And then what will you do? What will
we
do?”

“Aye, Claire,” her brother asked, bitterness now seeping in to darken his voice, “what indeed will
you
do? It’s a problem, to be sure, that might well put you in the middle between Evan and me. What would you do then, if you had to make a choice between him and me? What would you do, indeed?”

She stared back at him, a reply—whatever it was—lodging in a throat gone suddenly dry. In truth, Claire didn’t know what her answer would have been. All she knew was if she ever had to make such a horrendous choice, it would tear her heart asunder.

And that wasn’t anything she cared ever to face, much less consider.

“Beth told me you went to Grand View today,” Evan said as he undressed for bed that evening. “Something about supplies, and a visit with Miss Westerman.”

Claire faltered in her even brushstrokes. She had forgotten she had asked Beth to inform Evan where she was going today. But now, after what the young schoolteacher had shared with her, combined with her own growing concern over Beth and Ian, Claire wasn’t so sure she wanted to discuss the reason for her visit at Grand View’s school anymore. Yet, short of lying to her husband, which she would never do, there seemed no way to avoid the issue.

At least, though, he had no inkling of her run-in with Brody Gerard. And she meant to keep it that way, even going so far as to ask Noah not to say anything, when he had finally escorted her back to her buggy. There was no telling what Evan would’ve done if he had ever discovered the liberties the big, dark man had dared try to take. Indeed, after what Noah had told her about Brody Gerard’s kidnapping of Hannah, Claire wagered if it hadn’t been for his broken leg, even Devlin MacKay wouldn’t have been averse to joining Evan in paying Gerard a visit.

“Ian’s having some problems at school,” she finally forced herself to say. “I’m hoping, between the two of us, though, that Miss Westerman and I can work it all out.” She laid her hairbrush on the dresser and walked over to climb into the big brass bed beside her husband. “I didn’t think it necessary to burden you with it, unless the problem continues.”

Evan, the covers drawn up to his bare chest, stared at her intently. “Why is it I don’t think I’m getting the whole story here?”

Claire drew in a slow, deep breath. “Ian was fighting. Miss Westerman disciplined him. I had a talk with Ian today, and I’m hoping that will be the end of it.”

“And why was Ian fighting?”

This time, or all the other times? Claire wanted to ask. She chose, however, to assume he was talking about yesterday’s brawl. “Some boys were apparently making fun of Beth. Ian took offense and decided to teach them some manners.”

“Well, good for him.” Evan scooted down in bed. In a most distracting movement of strong, supple muscles, he pillowed his hands behind his head. “Remind me to thank him tomorrow.”

“There are better ways of handling most things than fighting. If you don’t mind, I’d rather you not encourage Ian to use his fists to solve all his problems.”

Evan glanced at her and grinned. “Well, considering Ian’s past history, I suppose you’re right. But I’m grateful to him, nonetheless, for standing up for Beth.”

“Aye, it was a kind and noble thing,” Claire admitted. “The intent, leastwise, if not the method.”

Her husband continued to stare at her, and his gaze gradually warmed with a decidedly masculine interest. “It’s been a while,” he finally said, his voice gone low and husky, “since we—”

Before Evan could put words to his thoughts, Claire cut him off. It was past time to broach the subject of Hannah. “There’s more, Evan. More we need to talk about.”

“About Ian, you mean?”

“Nay.” She shook her head, summoning all her courage. “About us.”

Evan frowned. Slowly, he lowered his hands to lie on the quilt before him. “And what would you like to talk about regarding us?” he asked with a quiet, deliberate emphasis.

Claire scooted around in bed until she could fully see his face. For a long moment she gazed at him, wrestling with myriad ways to broach the subject of his past relationship with Hannah. Finally, though, as the tension built to unbearable heights, she just blurted it out.

“When exactly were you planning to tell me about you and Hannah?”

Evan’s mouth fell open for the briefest instant, before he clamped it shut. His long, strong fingers dug into the bedding, gripping it tightly. Then, with what must have been a supreme effort of will, he suddenly relaxed.

“I assume,” he said softly, “you’re referring to the fact that I was once in love with Hannah.”

“Aye, and what else would it be? She was the lass who you left Culdee Creek for, wasn’t she?”

Evan glanced away and nodded. “Yes, she was.”

Something in his evasive, almost defiant manner angered Claire. “And I ask again. When were you planning on telling me about her?”

“When I felt the time was right, of course!” He whirled about, a frustrated regret burning in his eyes. “It’s not how it seems, Claire. I was just wanting for you to have an easy time of fitting in here, and I didn’t want to poison any chance you and Hannah may have had to become friends. None of this is her fault anyways. She’s in love with Devlin, and never really hankered after me like I did her.”

She met his gaze with a steady one of her own, even as her next words threatened to lodge permanently in her throat and choke her. “And do you still hanker after her, Evan?” Claire finally forced out the dreaded question. “Now that you’re back home, and near Hannah, do you mayhap find you regret your hasty courtship and marriage to me?”

As her questions unfolded, Evan’s expression of incredulity, so comical in its extreme, almost wrenched a strident laugh from her. But Claire wasn’t about to settle for anything but the truth, and that truth demanded the spoken word, not suppositions.

“Well, husband?” she prodded, when no reply was forthcoming. “Don’t hesitate so, or your silence will in itself give me my answer.”

Evan eyed her a moment longer, then exhaled a deep breath. “You’ve every right to be angry with me, but don’t for a minute think that I ever regretted marrying you, Claire. I still care for Hannah, but now just as a friend. She was always so good to me. I can’t help but be happy that she’s happy. But you’re my wife, and I love
you
as a wife.”

If his words hadn’t been enough to convince her, the ardent look in Evan’s eyes did. “Och,” she whispered, the tears welling, “if you only kn-knew how hard it’s been in the past m-month, wondering, watching, and praying to God each and every night that you l-loved me still. You’ve just seemed so cold and distant of late, that I began to—”

As Claire’s tears flowed, Evan made a sympathetic sound and pulled her to him. “Oh, sweetheart, sweetheart,” he crooned. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve been preoccupied with the ranch since Pa left, and I know most nights I fall asleep without even holding or loving you, but it was never,
never
because I no longer wished to be married to you. In fact”—he gave a harsh little laugh—“I was beginning to wonder how
you
felt about me. It’s not as if we’ve even made love since we moved into this house, and my parents’ bed, you know.”

“I-I already knew about you and Hannah by then,” Claire said, swiping her eyes. “And then, with you working so hard, us both being so tired, and me feeling like a dolt over not being able to properly cook meals for you and the hands … well, I can’t say I felt much like making love. But when Noah said I needed to talk with you about this, that we have to work at marriage to lay a strong foundation for the years to come, I decided I must do so—before things got any worse.”

Evan went very still, then gently pushed her back from him. “You talked to Noah Starr about our marital problems? When? Today?”

An uneasy presentiment prickled down Claire’s spine, and she cursed her rash tongue. “Aye,” she admitted slowly. “It’s the first chance I’ve had in a while to take some time for myself. And it wasn’t as if I felt comfortable discussing it with you or Hannah. Besides, there surely wasn’t anyone else I could talk to, was there?”

“Millie Starr might have been a better choice,” her husband gritted out the words. “Or, better still, no one at all, save me.”

“I didn’t see the harm,” she protested, her confusion mounting. “After all, Noah’s a man of God, and used to—”

“This is between you and me, Claire,” Evan snapped in frustration, “and that’s where it should stay!” He glared down at her. “Do you understand? Do you?”

Suddenly, Claire didn’t like being close to Evan, much less having his hands on her. She wrenched free and climbed from the bed. “You don’t need to lecture me as if I’m some child, Evan MacKay!” she cried, her hands fisting on her hips. “Mayhap you prefer to keep things to yourself and let them fester, but I don’t. I tried to be discreet. Noah will understand, keep my confidence. Or would you’ve preferred I continued to talk with Mary Sue Edgerton, who told me all about you and Hannah to begin with?”

Not allowing him a chance to reply, she laughed shrilly at the consideration. “Och, aye, now
that
would’ve been a wise choice, wouldn’t it? Mary Sue would’ve gladly listened to all I told her with a most avid ear. Aye, mayhap I should’ve talked with her instead!”

“I should’ve known Mary Sue had her spiteful little hand in this,” Evan muttered. He shook his head. Then he sighed and threaded an unsteady hand through his hair. “The biggest fool of all, though, was me, in letting it get to this.”

“Aye,” Claire agreed cautiously, not certain where he was headed with this unexpected new tack. “You should’ve told me about Hannah straight off.”

“Yes, I should’ve,” he admitted wearily, as all the anger and frustration seemed to drain from him in one great rush. “And I reckon I can’t blame you for turning to Noah for help. You needed someone to talk to.”

“I’d really meant to talk with Millie.” Claire’s hands fell to her sides. “But she wasn’t home, and you know how kind and concerned Noah can be …”

“It’s all right, Claire. Learning that another man knew more about what was bothering you than I did just stung my pride a bit. I’m sorry I got angry at you for that.”

“I suppose, knowing that, your anger was understandable.” She managed a tentative smile.

He lifted the covers on her side of the bed. “Come back to bed. You’re starting to shiver.”

It
was
a bit chilly. Claire wondered, though, how much of her sudden shivering was due to the cool room, and how much was but a delayed reaction to the high emotions of the past few minutes. One way or another, she decided as she hopped back into bed and snuggled up against Evan’s long, warm length, she was thankful her worst fears had finally been put to rest.

“Let’s not ever again keep secrets from each other,” Evan murmured as he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “It’s just not worth the pain, is it?”

“Nay,” Claire whispered. Yet even as she agreed, questions bombarded her, questions that demanded an answer as to why she continued to harbor her own secrets. Secrets like the episode with Brody Gerard today. Secrets about her growing concern over Ian and Beth. Worst of all, the secret of what really happened that stormy night on the seacoast of Sutherland.