Lori Connelly (14 page)

“You got discouraged.” Evie held his gaze a moment then walked over to gather their hanging clothes. Ben took the time to kill the fire. She felt his expectation in the silence. “It was difficult to find buyers after that. We were still struggling to come to terms with not having James in our lives. You started riding off, coming home late.”

“Drunk?”

Arms full she still managed to wind up the rope, “Yes.”

Back at the wagon, she put their things away then secured the tailgate. Her husband walked past, headed to Sugar as Evie shrugged out of his coat. She carried it along with her cloak up to stand near Ben while he hitched up the mare.

As soon as he finished with Sugar, Ben helped his wife up onto the seat. Pensive, he climbed up next to Evie and set them in motion. They bumped over rocky, uneven ground for a number of minutes until they rolled back onto the road. Countryside, wild, dotted with oak and pine, surrounded them.

“It seems I’ve become what I least wanted to be.”

“What’s that?”

“A man who chases after every
sure thing
and always fails.”

“Like your father.”

“I told you about him?”

“Just why you didn’t want to be like him. You never said much about him or your mom. I assume talking about the fire is painful.”

“The fire?”

“The one they died in.”

Ben stiffened. “I told you that?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not right,” His hands tightened on the reigns. “My father died in a prison fight while serving time for theft. Mom just faded away after that. I buried her a year later. There was no fire.”

“You lied to me.”

“It appears so,” his voice strained.

They hit a rough patch in the road. A long series of bone rattling bumps interrupted the conversation. As soon as their path smoothed he glanced over at his wife. Her face had paled.

“You’re mad?”

The mare moved forward at a brisk, steady pace. A good mile or so passed. Evie took so long to answer he started to wonder if she would.

“I don’t know what I feel right now.”

Her sad whisper struck a cord within him. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“For upsetting you. I seem to do it a lot.”

“No,” Evie shook her head. “Why’d you lie?”

“Good question.” Ben stared down the road ahead. Long minutes went by while he struggled against the blankness in his mind. “My best guess is that maybe I was embarrassed.”

Another long awkward pause then, “But you aren’t now?”

“Oh I am,” his jaw worked, he couldn’t look at her. “But I’m not going to lie about it.”

“What changed?”

“You’ve made it plain how important it is for me to be absolutely truthful with you.”

Her tone, soft, sorrowful, “You’ve always known that.”

“I don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry.”

Ben glanced at his wife. Her face averted, she seemed to look off in the distance. Over the course of the afternoon the conversation remained awkward, strained, despite his efforts to put things right. Discouraged, he almost welcomed silence.

As dusk chased daylight away Evie dozed, her head on his shoulder. While looking for a good spot to stop for the night, he noticed a farmhouse set back a short distance from the road on his left. A deep-seated urge to try and make up for the past triggered the thought that his wife might enjoy a night off the cold, hard ground. A few minutes later, Ben pulled up in the farmer’s yard and an older couple emerged.

“Evie,” Her husband coaxed her from slumber. She sat up straight and yawned while Ben continued. “I found us a place to stay tonight.”

“Mmhmm,” She rubbed her hands over her face.

“I’ll help you down in a minute.”

“Okay.”

The seat squeaked as Ben left. Evie heard him jump down, tracked his footfalls until she judged her husband was next to her then opened her eyes. She gasped. The homeliest man she’d ever seen filled her vision.

Suddenly the man smiled and his face transformed. His eyes, a deep brown, crinkled at the corners, radiated warmth that enveloped her. Although still far from handsome, his kind expression reminded Evie of her late grandfather.

“This is Edwin Way.” Her gaze flicked left, noticed Ben waited, arms stretched up for her. “He and his wife kindly offered shelter for the night.”

Evie climbed down with Ben’s assistance.

“Sorry I startled you ma’am,” Edwin offered her his hand.

Her smile shy, she shook his hand, “Call me Evie.”

“Good to meet you Evie,” in a sweeping gesture he indicated the person on the porch behind him, illuminated by the light the poured through the open front door. The birdlike woman’s white hair, braided, fell to her waist, had pleasant features and her smile was broad and warm. “This is my wife, Ella.”

After an exchange of greetings, Ella led her into the house while the men stabled Sugar. At the end of a narrow hall, they entered a cozy bedroom. A sturdy four-poster oak bed with plump pillows dominated the space. To her right sat a large dresser and on the left was a mirrored vanity topped with a basin of water, soap, a washcloth and a towel.

“Thank you,” Evie put her bag down on the floor by the bed.

“You’re quite welcome,” Ella paused. “Have you eaten?”

“No but we’ll be fine.”

“You must eat with us then, it’s no trouble. Freshen up, rest a little and I’ll wake you when dinner is ready.”

Before she could object, Ella left a lit lamp on the dresser and closed the door behind her. Evie stood a moment, stunned, still half-asleep then stepped to the mirror. Lips pressed into a white line, she strode up to the vanity focused on her tousled appearance. She scrubbed with lavender scented soap then brushed out her hair.

Her gaze swung to the lush bed and pillows. The desire to rest on that softness was a physical ache. Evie hung the cloth she’d used over the edge of the basin and yawned. Her eyes closed for a split second. Her knee knocked against solid wood furniture.

Unladylike words flashed through her mind. Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose until the worst of the throbbing subsided. Evie blew out the lamp, limped over to the bed and sat on the edge. Her eyes half closed, one hand over another she clawed back the covers and crawled in. Her head sank on the feather pillow. Snuggled in soft warmth, she slept.

The creak of the door opening accompanied by the aroma of fried chicken awakened Evie. She opened her eyes, looked over to see Ben enter the room. Her husband carried a candle, a soft glow in the dark, as he came to her side.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“Yes,” Evie sat up. Pleasant surprise filled her. For the first time in a long time, she felt rested. “I did.”

“Good.” Ben put the candle down on the nightstand then touched her cheek, briefly, as though he couldn’t resist the contact. “Dinner is ready.”

Her stomach grumbled. “It smells wonderful.”

“I’ll let you get ready.” He crossed to the doorway in a few quick strides. “The kitchen is at the end of the hall.”

The door closed as Evie got out of bed. She splashed her face and quickly braided her hair. Ready she took the candle and stepped out of the room. Her husband’s familiar deep voice rumbled through the house, led her to straight to him.

Ella wiped her hands on her apron then carried a plate stacked high with biscuits to the small table in the center of the room when Evie walked in. She greeted the older couple as Ben rose from his chair, seated her beside him. The bounty of food before her made her mouth water.

Crispy chicken sat on a platter with bowls on either side, one with creamy potatoes, the other with peas. Evie soon realized that for Ella and Edwin, company was rare. Long after she had eaten her fill, the other couple lingered, engaged in pleasant but long conversation. The hour was late when Ben excused himself to check on the mare while Evie helped clean up.

The lamp washed the bedroom in light when she entered. Ben already lay in the bed. Evie blew out the light, changed into her nightgown in the dark. With soft, slow steps, she moved over to the bed, slipped in beside her husband.

“We need to talk about this.”

“You need sleep,” Her tone held reluctance and concern.

“I’m fine,” Blunt to the point of impatient, Ben assured her. “And ignoring it won’t solve anything.”

Her sigh filled the room, “I’m not sure talking about it will either.” Tension pulsed. “It’s an issue of trust.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I’d like to.”

Ben reached down took one cold hand in his, entwined their fingers, squeezed. “Then do.”

“How can I,” Evie turned to face him, her voice taut with pain. “When you lie to me?”

Darkness shrouded them, “I’m not lying to you now.”

“But you have.”

“We’ve been over this,” A floorboard creaked. Muffled voices carried through the wall, reminded them that the old couple were in the next room. Ben lowered his voice to a whisper. “I can’t change what I did in the past.”

Her fingers caressed the quilt cover. Chest tight, her voice hoarsened with raw emotion, “And I’m not certain I can forget it.”

“Can you forgive it?”

His question uttered so soft she barely heard it. Her lips parted then closed again. Doubt nagged at her. The back of her throat burned. Words flitted through her mind but Evie didn’t know what to tell him.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s difficult to be held responsible for things I’ve no memory of doing.”

Frustration a common thread between them, held them and bound them in a web of their own creation. Evie shook her head. She knew it wasn’t fair. “I’m sorry.”

“Couldn’t you just take me as I am now, ignore our past, give me a little trust?” His tone threaded with resentment.

“No,” Her fierce snap reflected aggravation. “I can’t and trust isn’t given, it’s earned.”

“Fine, so how do I earn yours?”

Her anxiety heightened another notch, “I don’t know.”

“If we’re going to stay married we better figure this out.”

Her heart slowed, “Are you threatening to leave me?”

“No,” his denial came hard, emphatic then he continued in a measured voice. “But I think,” Ben startled her by getting out of bed. In quick, rough motions, he removed his clothes then lay down beside her again but only pulled the sheet up to his waist. “That without trust or at least the possibility of trust, there isn’t much of a marriage.”

His words, at first, barely made an impression, his actions so confounded her. Evie stared at Ben for a long moment before her scattered thoughts reformed. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what? Undress?” Surprise raised his voice.

Evie breathed in and blew out with force, “Yes.”

“I was hot.”

“You’re naked,” Disconcerted, she tried to sound calm.

“Yes I know.”

“We’re in the middle of an important conversation.”

“Yes,” Ben drew out the word. “We are.”

“So what are you doing? Are you just going to insist on-”

“I’m not insisting on anything. I was hot.”

“And so you stripped.”

“Yes,” he bit out, impatient, irritated. “So what.”

“You’re naked.” Heat crawled up her neck.

“You’ve already pointed that out.”

Her tone strained, “You need to put something on.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Like a moth to a flame, he drew her in. His form vague, a dense shadow, but his body heat radiated across the inches that separated them, scorched her, “you do.”

“It’s late. I’m tired. My side hurts like the devil. The pain had me sweating so bad my shirt is about soaked. You’ve seen me naked before. I woke up in that cabin without a stitch of clothes on so why does it bother you now?”

“Because …  I just. Before… you … ”

A long-suffering breath escaped him. “I don’t know what I did or didn’t do with you before. I can only be as I am right now which is hot and flat out exhausted.”

“But I-”

“Oh for the love of-” Ben turned away. She heard him grab something off the floor then he continued. “If it bothers you so bad I’ll-”

“Stop,” the absurdity of the situation sank in. She’d seen this man nude countless times and had slept in his arms, skin to skin, “I’m being silly.”

“Yes you are,” His ready agreement tinged with agitation.

“Stay as you are.”

Movement stilled. “Are you sure?”

No.
With his chest only inches away, her fingers itched to touch bare flesh. Troubled by that distraction, her voice was soft, uncertain. “Yes.”

“Okay then,” Clothing hit the floor, Ben reclined, his head on the pillow. Minutes passed. Another long pause marked by tense silence in this awkward exchange. He released an audible breath. “I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.”

“I know,” Her teeth chewed on the inside of her cheek. She felt nervous and ridiculous. The situation, both familiar and strange, seemed frightfully intimate.

“I think for both our sakes, you need to make a decision.”

“About?”

“Whether or not you can trust me.”

The butterflies in her stomach morphed into hummingbirds. Her temple throbbed. She lifted a hand to rub it. “You know I can’t simply decide to do that.”

“Why not?”

“As I said, trust is earned.”

“But you won’t say how I can earn it,” His words, delivered in a cool, polite tone, set her teeth on edge.

Vexed, she snapped, “Because I don’t know.”

“This conversation is pointless.” The hollow exhaustion in his tone revealed how badly Ben needed to rest.

Worry added another layer of concern, “How about we talk about this tomorrow? It’s been a long day.”

Silence hung heavy and thick. Long seconds lengthened into minutes. Her husband took so long to speak that Evie started to think he wouldn’t answer at all.

“Very long,” his leg brushed hers as he stretched, “All right, let’s get some sleep.”

His easy response and matter-of-fact tone startled her, almost made her want to push for a reaction. Instead, Evie took a deep breath, reminded herself sternly that she’d gotten what she’d asked for then shut her eyes.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

Evie turned over, put her back to her husband. She tried to ignore the heat that radiated from him. With worry a common thread, one troubled thought after another chased through her mind. She scrunched the pillow, squirmed until comfortable then closed her eyes. A long time passed but sleep remained elusive.

Covers rustled, the mattress moved, Ben shifted. One long arm came up over her, settled on her waist. She stiffened then relaxed. Her husband pressed against her, gently. His warmth eased the chill in her heart. Safe in his embrace, she soon calmed.

The knocking made no sense. Evie looked around the grassy meadow, couldn’t find a source and so dismissed it. She smiled at her companion then urged her mount to a faster pace, laughed at the man who chased her, dared him to ‘catch me if you can’.

A bronzed hand grabbed her reigns. Her heart pounded, her smile broadened. Their horses slowed, stopped under a tall oak tree. A strong arm snaked around her waist. The man pulled her in front of him, into his embrace.

His hand cupped her jaw tilted her face for his kiss. Her gaze traveled over his broad chest, the width of his shoulders and his firm jaw. Excitement danced through her veins as she gazed at his beloved face.

“Evie,” her dream shattered as Ella knocked again, called to them from the other side of the door. “Ben, breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you, we’ll be right there.” Her husband answered his voice gruff with sleep.

Reluctantly Evie opened her eyes, mourned the loss. She pushed hair off her face and crawled out of bed. A glance back at Ben caught him just after he’d thrown back the sheet. In the midst of a morning stretch, she froze. Riveted she watched her husband stand and start to dress. When he looked up, found her focused on him, she turned immediately and walked to the vanity.

“Good morning.”

Her gaze met his in the mirror, “Morning.”

Nervous Evie dug out her brush and tended her hair. While Ben pulled on his clothes, she stayed quiet. Minutes later, he excused himself and left the room. She completed her morning routine in short order. Hair tamed in her standard tidy braid, dress donned, she took a moment to put the room to rights then headed to the dining room.

“Good morning.” Ellie flashed a smile at her as she set a plate stacked with pancakes down on the table. “Have a seat.”

Evie sat. “Good morning.”

“Did you sleep well?” The older woman placed a platter of sausages in front of her.

“Yes ma’am, thank you for breakfast and all your kindness.”

“Young lady I asked you to call me Ella yesterday.”

“Yes ma’am, I mean Ella.”

Evie caught a glimpse of the other woman’s pleased smile as she bustled around the table, poured them each a steaming mug of coffee. She laced her strong brew with honey and cream and then wrapped her hands around the cup, breathed in the scent. After a couple of long sips, she set it down when Ellie sat down beside her. Edwin entertained them with funny stories about raising their children, long since grown, as they ate and time flew by.

After the pleasant meal, the older man went outside with Ben to hitch up Sugar. Evie enjoyed visiting with Ellie as she helped clean up the kitchen. It’d been a long time since she’d had the company of another woman. When they finished she took her leave with sincere reluctance. She gathered her bag from the bedroom then exited the house to seek the privy. Needing a moment to herself after attending her needs, she walked over to two giant oaks some yards distant on the other side of the yard.

In the shade beneath gnarled branches, a band tightened around her chest. Soon they’d be on their way. Sometime this day they’d resume last night’s conversation and she still didn’t know what to say. Faced away from the house, Evie stood and for several minutes stared out over the flat grassland. A pair of hawks swooped through the sky.

“Ready to go?”

The smack of boots against hard packed dirt warned her of Ben’s approach long before he spoke.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” She turned to face him, gestured toward the birds in flight. “It must be wonderful to be free.”

“You all right?” His concern plain, he ignored her musing.

Evie considered lying then dismissed the idea. Honesty was necessary for their marriage to have a fighting chance, “No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” Her anger flared without warning. Dull red splotches marred his wife’s high cheekbones. A grimace twisted her lush lips. Her gaze met his, eyes bitter, burning orbs, a pale fire in startling contrast to her thick, dark lashes. “I should be at our cabin not among strangers again.” Tears welled in her eyes. Like a child she stomped her foot. “It’s not fair.”

Sympathy coursed through him as she thrust her hands into the pockets of her cloak, looked at the ground. He reached out, touched under her chin gently and tilted her face up until she met his gaze. Beneath the obvious signs of fury, her otherwise ghost white face revealed a woman under tremendous strain. Ben moved his hand, cupped her jaw.

“No it’s not.”

The soft-spoken words of accord drew a strangled scream of frustration from Evie. Tears wet her cheeks. The light in her sapphire eyes dimmed. His fingers moved over her face, caressed her skin, offered silent comfort. A pained sigh emerged from her.

“You can’t understand.” Her misery tangible, Evie made a half hearted effort to step back.

Ben wrapped his arms around her. Evie allowed him to pull her close, embrace her. He tucked her head against his shoulder and pressed a light kiss on her hair. “Maybe not totally but I get that it’s not fair, nothing about this is fair for you.”

Her emotional storm tempered. She leaned in, absorbed his warmth. Her breath slowed, mood mellowed. Guilt pricked Evie as the minutes passed. She tried to pull free.

“I don’t know what came over me.”

Ben refused to let go, hugged her closer, “You’re fine.”

“No, no I’m not.” Her lips twitched in a sad attempt at a smile. She rubbed her face with one hand. “But thanks anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” He captured her hand with his, brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

The romantic gesture warmed her. “So what do we do?”

“Be together, learn to trust and love each other.”

Evie avoided his gaze. The strong steady beat of his heart in her ear, she whispered against his chest, “I’m afraid.”

“So am I.” His arms tightened around her again then one large hand rubbed circles on her upper back. “But I have faith we’ll be okay.”

Though his answer pleased her, doubt remained. How could Ben really believe in a union he didn’t remember? “I wish I could say the same.”

“Someday you will.” His hands moved up to frame her face, tilted it up once again and looked deep into her eyes, “When I earn your trust back.”

His intensity filled her senses. Her heart sped. Breath became rapid. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She couldn’t look away. Invisible threads pulled her closer until she felt his breath on her lips.

“Evie,” Her name came out on a low groan as Ben’s fingers slipped into her hair.

Desire overwhelmed caution. She needed his touch, craved passion. She dismissed the whispers of fear and looped her arms around his neck. Her lips brushed his. Ben moaned. Instantly she broke contact. His fingers flexed but otherwise the large, muscled man held himself still. Their breath mingled.

Seconds passed in tense anticipation before she realized Ben wasn’t going to take control. He stayed motionless, almost rigid against her. Evie felt the back of his neck dampen with sweat. With the beat of her heart thundering in her ears, she dared another soft, short kiss then begged.

“Please-”

His mouth covered hers, a swift response to her plea. Her sigh of pleasure muffled. Ben coaxed her lips apart, and his tongue delved in. Arched against him, Evie forgot the rest of the world.

“Pardon me.”

A gruff voice killed desire. She broke off the kiss, bowed her head. Cheeks aflame, Evie hid her face against Ben’s chest and took deep breaths, struggled for calm as her husband lowered his hands to rest on her waist.

“You young folks need anything else?”

“No thank you sir, I believe we’ll be on our way.”

“That’d probably be best.” Edwin’s tone quivered as though he suppressed amusement.

“Yes sir.”

“Ella packed you a lunch.”

“She didn’t need to do that.”

“It pleases her. We’ll be waiting on the porch.”

As the old farmer walked away, she eased out of Ben’s loose hold, avoided eye contact. A crow landed on a branch above and announced its presence with a loud caw. Evie took a step away. Her husband caught her hand, stopped her. Startled, her gaze found his.