Chasing Clovers (26 page)

After reading to Ben and Emily until they fell asleep,
he came back downstairs. He was surprised that Livy wasn't in the kitchen. He wandered into the sitting room and found her standing in front of his bookshelf, fingering through a book. He recognized the one she held as
Romeo and Juliet
.

"
Have you read William Shakespeare before?" he asked, startling her.

She fumbled with the book, trying not to drop it.
"No, I haven't."

"
It's a good one. You'd like it."

"
I'm not sure I'd understand it." She gazed at one of the pages. "I'm not familiar with this language."

"
Yeah, it's a difficult one."

She placed the book back on the shelf.

He went over to where she stood. Scanning the shelf,
he pulled out another book and handed it to her. "I think you'd enjoy this one more."

"
Pride and Prejudice?
" Livy read the title aloud.

"
You've probably never heard of it. Jane Austen is an English writer. Becky's cousin sent it to her as a wedding gift from London."

"
Have you read it?" she asked flipping through the pages.

"
Becky read it to me." Although he enjoyed her presence and the light conversation that passed between them, he knew he had to tell her about Boyd. "Livy, can we talk?"

She glanced up from the book, and her green eyes searched his. "About what?"

He coughed to clear his throat.

"
I need to tell you somethin'." He coughed again. "I need to get somethin' off my chest about the other day."

She
placed the book down on the table beside her and sat down on the sofa.

He
took a seat next to her. "I know this must be painful for you, to have to talk about the other day, but..."

Her hands knotted together.

He placed a hand on hers.

"
You sure you feel okay?" he asked. He didn't want to put any more stress on her than she already had.

"
Yes," she said quietly, and he knew he could listen to her talk all day. The soprano tone had become music to his ears.

Her hair was loose, flowing free to lie across her back, and He longed to run his fingers through the rich mass. "I had my suspicions about the man who attacked you, and… and I had been keeping an eye on him before you were attacked." He exhaled.

She
didn't say a word, didn't move. She stared straight ahead.

"
I…I thought he might be to blame for Rusty's death." His forehead moist with sweat, and his hands cold and clammy, he forced the words to come and told her the rest. Bringing her hand to his chest he said, "It's my fault this happened to you."

She shook her head.

He
squeezed her hand lightly. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am, sweetheart." He watched as her eyes closed and a single tear slipped past them to rest on her cheek.

"
John."

"
Livy, I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry." He kissed her hand and waited for her to say something.

"
John," she whispered again turning toward him. "This is not your fault." She wiped the tear from her cheek and John's gut lurched at the bruises he saw around her wrist.

When sh
e looked at him, her expression held no malice, no blame, and he felt the burden he'd carried being lifted.

"
If I would've acted on my gut feeling you'd have been safe."

"
I trust you, John. I know you'd never let anyone hurt me."

"
Ahh, darlin'." Laying his arm across her shoulders he pulled her close and rested his chin on the top of her head. She felt so good, tucked into him, and he couldn't imagine being anywhere else but here with her.

"
There are things you should know about the other day too," she said. "But before I tell you, I need you to know…I need to..."

"
You can tell me anything, Livy."

She maneuvered to look at him. "I care for you John."

He smiled down at her, mesmerized by the rich color of her shamrock eyes. "I care for you too, Livy."

Overwhelmed with affection, he brought his lips down to meet hers. Supple and warm, John
's mouth moved slowly over Livy's, drawing out every ounce of regret, anger, and fear inside of him, making it fade and disappear.

"
John," she mumbled against his mouth. "I have to tell you something."

He
didn't want their kiss to end, and he shook his head. It wasn't until he felt her relax in his arms, that he deepened their embrace, letting her tongue dance with his to a melody that played from their souls. Soft and sensual, their passion surrounded them, radiating and warm, as they clung to one another. He wanted her, but he refused to go any further and ended the kiss. He lay back on the sofa, bringing her with him. She nestled in the crook of his arm, as his fingers penciled circles on her back. He reveled in the comfort her presence gave him.

"
John?" she whispered her head on his chest.

"
Shush, darlin', we'll talk later. Tonight I want you in my arms."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Livy woke in John's arms. Her muscles cramped and stiff from sleeping on the sofa, but she didn't care. The aches and pains were a small sacrifice to be close to him. John's chest rose and fell as he slept, and she delighted in the way his arm was draped across her waist, protecting her.

Pushing aside thoughts of Boyd, she snuggled deeper into John
's embrace. She loved him, and couldn't imagine her life without him or his children. She needed to tell him the truth about Emma. She didn't want any more lies between them. Livy's chest was heavy, making it hard for her to breathe, the burden of her past weighing her down, and she felt her courage fading. She didn't want to keep the charade going any longer. She needed to start fresh.

She
tried to stop him from apologizing last night. She tried to tell him about Boyd, but her requests to talk fell on deaf ears, as he wanted to hold her. She felt safe and loved for the first time in her life, and didn't want to lose their night together, instead she chose to bask in his strong embrace.

Guilt-ridden for letting it wait until morning, letting him think it was his fault that Boyd had attacked her,
she knew the time to open up to him was now. John had told her he cared for her, and to Livy that was close enough to love. He would understand. He would wrap his arms around her and tell her it didn't matter, it wouldn't change the way he felt for her. He'd be there for her. He'd wipe her tears.

John rolled
toward her.

"
Awake already?" he whispered, his voice hoarse from sleep.

She smiled.

The room had brighten
ed as the sun shone through the front window. "I haven't slept that soundly in a long time."

He
kissed her forehead.

She
closed her eyes. She could stay like this, him holding her, forever. This is where she belonged. She was thankful that John and his family had rescued her from a life full of misery and guilt.

He must have noticed the change in her, because he pulled back.
"Livy?" he asked, "Is somethin' wrong, Sweetheart?"

She had to tell him about her past, had to clear her conscience.
What would he say? How would he respond to my words?
Livy's heart hammered in her chest with hope. She didn't want to move from his embrace, but she needed to sit up and look at him. She patted at her messed hair.

"
I need to tell you something," she said, her voice shaking.

Stretching his arms above his head, he sat up beside her and gave her a wink. "Okay darlin'. I'm listenin'." His black wavy hair hung at his jaw, and she had to stop from running her fingers through it.

John's dark eyes gazed into hers, and she wanted nothing more than to lie back down beside him.
No, I have to do this. I have to tell him now.
She clasped her hands together and took a deep breath.

"
I…I had a child before I came here." She took another breath before she went on, "Her name was Emma." She couldn't look at him, afraid of what she'd see when he stared back at her. Afraid she would cower and not finish. "Before I came here, I sang in saloons. My…my mother worked in them, selling her body."

He
was silent. His jaw was covered in black whiskers and she longed to press her cheek up against the rough surface.

"
I never did that. Instead, I sang for my money. But…but one night a man broke into my room."

She
squeezed her eyes shut, and forced the tears not to fall. "He…he didn't care that I wasn't like the other women, and forced himself on me anyway, leaving me with child."

He
still hadn't uttered a word. She glanced over at him. In his dark eyes, she thought she glimpsed concern, and grasping onto the notion that he cared for her, she continued. "It…it."
Say the words. Say his name.
"It was Boyd," she whispered.

He
shot up off the couch, running his hand through his hair, and rasped, "Boyd gave you a child?"

Feeling the distance he
'd put between them like a cold winter day, she shuddered.

"
Yes," she whispered lowering her head.

"
Where is your daughter now?" He asked, looking at her, his eyes narrow slits.

Livy's own eyes blurred preventing her from seeing the disgust on his face. "She…she died last year."

He
was silent. She waited for him to say something—anything. She needed him to tell her he loved her, to hold her, to make it all go away. But as he slowly turned his back to her, she knew what was coming. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"
Boyd gave you a child?" he repeated.

She
didn't answer him. There was no need to.

"
You lied to me?" he whispered.

She bit her lip.

Pacing the floor, he came back to stand in front of her.
"You lied to me," he said again, his voice barely louder than a whisper, his chest protruded and his shoulders straight.

Ashamed,
she pushed her shoulders back into the sofa.

"
You told me Emma was your mother. You made me think this was my fault." He motioned toward her bruised body. "Why, Livy?"

She
couldn't find her voice, and shook her head.

"
Answer me, damn it," he growled, "Why Livy?"

Her heart aching, she whispered back, "I…I was scared that you wouldn't want me if you knew the truth." She loved John with her whole heart, but as she sat there, she could feel him draw away any feelings he might've had for her.

"
You're damn right I wouldn't want you," he yelled.

She flinched.

"
You're a liar. A fake."

"
I'm sorry, John," she mouthed the words, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

"
You're sorry?"

T
oo afraid to speak, she felt the tears seep from her eyes.

"
You brought Boyd here. You put my children in danger. Everything we talked about, everything you said to me, the whole damn time you've been here has been a lie!"

She
stood from the sofa and went to him.

"
No."

He took a step away from her, his eyes clouded.
"I don't even know you."

"
John please, let me explain," she begged. She needed to tell him about her daughter, about how she died and how his family had saved her.

"
Explain? You were a whore," he yelled, "the same as your mother."

The insult cut into her. Not expecting him to say such harsh words, she wrapped her arms around her middle.

"
That's not true," she cried. "Please, please don't say that."

"
It is true," he bellowed. "You made me fall for you, care for you."

"
No, no," she whispered, trying to reach out to him, needing to touch him. But he stepped away from her, and she felt helpless.

"
It all makes sense now." He crossed his arms. "You knew what you were doing all along. This was your plan."

Shocked at his accusations and
blinded by her tears, she shook her head.
No, no, no.