The Heavenly Surrender (25 page)

Mrs. Fenton was unable to entirely suppress her snicker, and Jenny’s glare shot daggers at the woman. “Mother has a list for you to fill, Mrs. Fenton,” Jenny announced, holding out a piece of paper to the woman.

“As soon as I’ve finished filling Mrs. McLean’s, Jenny,” Lilly told her, taking Genieva’s list from her hand.

Genieva was surprised when Amy suddenly leaned forward and whispered, “Joaquin has been to call three evenings this week, Genieva.”

Genieva’s eyes widened with delight. “How wonderful, Amy,” she whispered in response. “Does he…does he like little Marcus?” she asked in a tentative whisper.

Yes. Genieva understood. Joaquin had felt as if he had failed his Amy in not having been able to protect her. Perhaps that was one reason he had been at hand to protect Genieva when she needed protection. Joaquin knew Cruz’s intentions toward Brevan and toward Genieva. No doubt Joaquin had promised not to let any other young woman suffer the same fate as Amy.

“I hear the McLeans are just bursting with expectant mothers,” Jenny interrupted. Genieva looked to her. It was obvious the girl was miffed at being excluded from the conversation.

“Yes. We’re growing in generations,” Genieva replied.

“And how does Brevan feel about your inability to provide him with a son…to further the McLean name?”

Amy’s and Mrs. Wilburn’s mouths both gaped open in astonishment as Mrs. Fenton erupted, “You do beat all, Jennifer Evans. What a question! To utter such a thing in public…I can’t believe what flies off that sharp tongue of yours sometimes.”

“Come now, Mrs. Fenton. Would you pretend that you haven’t already asked her the same thing?”

“I most certainly did not, and if you had any manners at all…”

“Brevan does not beat me because I am not expectant, Jenny, if that’s what you mean,” Genieva said calmly—though her stomach burned with angered indignation at such a question. “I know that because you could never capture his attentions, you like to imagine he is some frightening, merciless brute. But he is far from it and is a great deal more patient than most men, I assure you.”

Snatching the list from Jenny’s hand, Mrs. Fenton said, “On second thought, I think I will attend to your list first. Then you can be on your way.”

Jenny smiled malignantly and went to look at the few pieces of jewelry on display in a nearby curio cabinet.

“She’s unbelievable,” Amy whispered.

“Pay her no mind, Genieva,” Mrs. Wilburn added. “She’s just insanely jealous. She used to chase Brevan around like a motherless kitten.”

Genieva nodded, but it was still taking every ounce of control she had not to simply slap the snip hard across the face. It was as if the young woman sensed Genieva’s thoughts were often occupied with despairing in the knowledge of being childless.

“
Ah, look at the lovely ladies about today!” Brevan flattered as he stepped into the store. Genieva was awash with relief at the sight of the handsome man before her. “Mrs. Wilburn, hello,” he greeted, shaking the woman’s hand. “And Amy and the little laddie,” he said, shaking Amy’s. “My dear Mrs. Fenton,” he greeted, going to the woman and bowing low. “And even Miss Jennifer Evans,” and he shook her hand as well. Genieva was astounded at the obvious blush blazoned across Jenny’s face as she smiled up at him. “I’ve a few things to add to me wife’s list, I do, Mrs. Fenton,” Brevan announced as he leaned casually on the counter. Mrs. Fenton handed Genieva’s list to him, and, taking a pencil from the woman’s ear, he scribbled quickly on the paper. Then, turning to Genieva, he raised an eyebrow and smiled as he walked slowly to her. “I told ya, I did. Ya remember that I told ya I’d be sellin’ that corn for a good price, Genieva?”

“Yes. You did tell me, and I never doubted you,” Genieva agreed.

“Well, my plum…ya’ve no idea!” He took her hands, holding them tightly against his chest. “It’s the harvestin’ time of year, lass, and it’s me favorite.”

“I’m fast realizing that,” she said. Oh, it was truly magnificent to feel his hands holding her own. Brevan cocked his head slightly—his eyebrows drawing together in a curious frown. “Ya’re not yarself,” he said in a lowered voice.

“I’m fine,” Genieva assured him—unconvincingly. She couldn’t help but quickly glance past him at Jenny—Jenny who stood watching them. She knew Jenny would only be reassured at seeing Brevan and Genieva together. She knew she would see through their farce. Yet she didn’t see Mrs. Wilburn indicate to Brevan with a nod in Jenny’s direction that Jenny was the cause of his wife’s discomfort.

Brevan started to turn and look in the direction Mrs. Wilburn nodded. He stopped, however, remembering then that Jenny Evans stood behind him. With an instant understanding of the situation, he pitied Genieva, knowing full well Jenny Evans must’ve been taunting his young wife somehow. It angered him—infuriated him. The little banshee! Jenny had endlessly hounded him before he’d married Genieva. In fact, the complete and unwanted attention he had received from the girl had often kept him from town in the past. Apparently, she’d now turned to irritating his wife. He would not stand for it! Not today.

“Ya’re a liar, Genieva McLean,” he said. Turning to Jenny and Mrs. Fenton, he added, “But don’t ya worry, Lilly…Jenny. I know how to make her day bright and beautiful once more.” Genieva gasped, caught completely unaware as Brevan suddenly pulled her snugly against him, wrapping her securely in his powerful arms. “Pucker up, me lassie. I’ve far too much excitement in me today to leave ya be for long.” Genieva’s senses were completely lost—lost to Brevan’s delicious kiss. His kiss was firm, thorough, and she realized it had been far too long since she had reveled in the feel and taste of it.

Her heavenly euphoria was interrupted, however, when Jenny exclaimed from behind Brevan, “Well, what public indecency!” Putting a small hand to Brevan’s roughly shaven cheek, Genieva attempted to break their kiss. Still, he only released her long enough to push her hand away from his face as he continued in his endeavor. “If I wanted to witness this kind of lewd behavior…I’d loiter in the saloon where it should be kept,” Jenny spat.

Brevan broke from Genieva, shaking his head with satisfaction. Moistening his lips as if having just enjoyed some delicious dessert, he turned to Jenny and said, “You’ll find nothin’ in the saloon the likes of what’s between Genieva and me, Miss Evans. But if ya’re more comfortable in that atmosphere over there…well then…”

“I’ll be back later for my mother’s order, Mrs. Fenton!” Jenny spat. “The air is far too stifling in here at this moment.” With a face crimson with humiliation and anger, the girl stormed out of the store.

As soon as she was out of distance to hear what was said, Mrs. Fenton, Amy, and her mother broke into peels of giggles. Genieva looked to Brevan, seeing his smile fade as he turned from her and walked toward the door.

“That girl gives me a pain in me stomach,” he mumbled. Then to Mrs. Fenton he added, “I’ll be back to collect the items on that list, I will. And me wife along with them, Lilly.” Without another word or glance to Genieva, he left.

Genieva watched as Brevan stood across the street speaking with Mr. Clawson. “Did you see his face when he came in here, Lilly? The happiest I’ve seen him since the rains came in July,” she said.

“Come on,” Amy offered, tugging at Genieva’s sleeve. “Let’s you and I go for a little walk while Mrs. Fenton gets your things together.”

“No, I…” Genieva began.

“It will do you good. Fresh air always brightens the mood after a minute spent in the company of Jenny Evans.”

As Amy talked of her baby and Joaquin, Genieva tried to listen. Yet her mind, in all honesty, was still back in the store—in Brevan’s arms. As she thought over the incident, she did begin to feel better, for in an odd way Brevan had championed her—come to her rescue. He must’ve somehow sensed the tension Genieva felt in Jenny’s presence, and he’d dispelled any doubt the irritating young woman might have concerning the sincerity of their relationship.

“You’re right, Amy,” she said when Amy finally drew a breath and paused in her babble. “I do feel better.”

“Good. I told you. We’re almost back to the store, and look…Brevan’s loading your things into the wagon already,” Amy observed.

Yet as Genieva looked in the direction of the wagon, she gasped when Cruz Archuleta suddenly appeared before her. He had simply stepped out of the alley and into their path. Genieva looked quickly to Amy, who clutched the baby tightly to her bosom, hatefully glaring at the man.

“You’ll move aside for us or regret it for the rest of your life,” Genieva stated. She wanted to scream, to cry out for Brevan’s help. Yet she remained outwardly unruffled—for she suspected screaming was what Cruz wanted. She would not endanger her husband. She only hoped she could remove Cruz from their presence before Brevan came out of the store once more.

“Do not threaten me, mí amor,” Cruz growled. Reaching out, he grasped Genieva’s chin tightly in one hand. “I no fear you or your ugly husband.”

“
You are afraid of him. That’s why you try to frighten me instead of threatening him face to face. You’re nothing but a coward.” She pushed his hand from her face and stood glaring up at him. Genieva sensed Amy could only watch in terrorized bewilderment. She was too frightened to act on her own and go for help. “Now, let us pass.”

Cruz shrugged and moved to one side, motioning for Amy to move on. Amy moved past him, hurrying to the store. Yet as Genieva made to move past him, he caught her tightly—one arm around her neck and his hand over her mouth as he pulled her into the alley. Genieva tried to scream, but his hand was secure over her mouth, and he slammed her small frame against the outer wall of a building.

“I see why the idioto married you,” Cruz growled—his face so close to Genieva’s that the stench of his breath caused her stomach to churn. Wantonly, he chuckled. “You make a man loco…and I think it’s time Brevan McLean shared his good luck with others.” Genieva tried to struggle even harder, for she knew all too well what he intended. “It will be better for both of us if you do not cry out,” he threatened as he released his fierce hold over her mouth. Still, the second he released her, she did cry out.

“Brevan!” she screamed only to feel the stinging pain as Cruz slapped her soundly across one cheek. It shocked her into silence for a moment—but only a moment, and she began her struggling anew. “Brevan!” she screamed again. Genieva moved her head from side to side as Cruz attempted to take hold of her mouth with his. When he took hold of her hair just above her forehead, slamming her head back against the wall, it sent pain and bright lights shooting every direction in her mind. Her head ached with the intense pain of the blow.

“Call for him again, and I’ll rip the hair from your head,” he growled.

A moment before his wet, stench-ridden kiss would’ve attacked her own pretty mouth, Genieva saw Brevan step up behind the man. Brevan took hold of Cruz’s hair, causing the villain such surprise as to release his hold on Genieva. The moment she was free of him, Brevan, still gripping the degenerate’s hair, pulled back powerfully, sending the man stumbling to the ground to land flat on his back.

“Brevan,” Genieva breathed as she reached out for him. Her relief was short-lived, however, for Cruz rebounded instantly, reaching up and swiping Brevan’s feet out from under him. The two men were rolling about on the ground, slamming each other’s heads against whatever building, rock, or object was at hand—throwing already bloodied fists at each other’s faces. Genieva screamed as Brevan dealt a particularly brutal blow to Cruz’s head, and it did indeed seem to scatter his wits for a moment. It was long enough for Brevan to stand. His breathing was labored as he wiped the blood from his lip, glaring down at the devil at his feet.

“Get up, Cruz. Ándele,” a voice ordered from the alley behind Brevan. Genieva turned. Three other men approached, and Genieva knew fear as she had never known it. She recognized only one of the men. He had been the man who had accompanied Cruz and Joaquin when she and Brevan had been watering the crops months earlier. She remembered Cruz referring to this man as his brother Mateo. The other two men were Mexican as well, and Genieva knew her worst fears were being realized—Cruz had used her to provoke Brevan into a trap.

Cruz chuckled as he slowly stood up. “Where will you run now, hombre?” he mocked.

Brevan turned to face Cruz once more, growling, “Why run from you? I’d have more reason to run from me grandmother.” Swiftly, the sole of Brevan’s large boot met squarely with Cruz’s face, sending his arms flailing, and Cruz fell to the ground once more. As Brevan turned to face the other three men, Genieva knew he would not back down from them.