His Haunted Heart (12 page)

Chapter Twelve

Porter

Benjamin was more cautious than usual as we crossed the bridge at the back of the property and even attempted not to make the last steps onto our land.

“Benjamin, come on boy. We are home.”

He didn’t want to move on, but he obeyed anyway. I passed by the cabin and found its door wide open along with the windows. Looking around the area, no one was near, but the whole thing felt like one of those wormy Rebel tricks.

I decided to leave the issue for later, wanting more than anything to get back to Delilah. The sun wasn’t my friend, fading more and more as I rode home. The land was mushy and waterlogged as we rode through it slowly. Benjamin didn’t like the mud and he faltered more than once. By the time we reached the house, the sun had completely failed me, hiding now behind the moon.

The meeting at my office hadn’t gone as long as I’d thought, so I made it a point to go to the bookstore and get Delilah more books. I intended to replace the dull ones on accounting and business with books for her, little by little.

I wanted her to feel like this was her home too.

It was her home.

After settling Benjamin into the stalls, I assessed the place. There was barely enough feed for the rest of the week and the conditions were deplorable at best. Rebel, again, wasn’t working up to snuff.

I cleaned up Benjamin’s stall myself and gave him enough food and water to last until I could get ahold of Rebel. His father was the same, never working up to our expectations.

Generations ago, my great-great-grandfather’s life was saved by a member of Rebel’s family. In a fit of shock, my ancestor promised Rebel’s family that they would always have a job at our estate if they needed one.

They had no idea that Rebel would one day come along.

After chucking my boots off on the front steps, I went into the house and wiped my forehead. There was sweat. Smiling to myself, I knew the reason for the anxiety. I was nervous as a school boy to see Delilah.

I’d been laughed at in the meeting for drifting into thought. The men in the room knew how it was to be in the honeymoon phase of a marriage. They’d razzed me for a half an hour before deciding they didn’t need me much after all, just my signature.

I had to see her. Even if she was asleep and unaware of my presence.

I twisted the knob to the bedroom as quietly as I could, making sure to push the door with a jerk to avoid the squeak.

Holding my breath, I approached the bed. The curtains around it were loose and it was freezing in the room. Willing my heartbeat to slow, I pulled one of the curtains open.

The bed was empty.

Perplexed, I stalked to the bathroom and searched the bathroom and in the closets for good measure. She wasn’t anywhere to be found.

I tromped downstairs and searched the usual places along with my library. There were several books on the chair and a blanket was draped over the chair. She’d been there at some point.

The more I look and didn’t find her, the more worried I became.

With so many unknowns about the things that had happened to her, my worst fears played in a horrific slideshow in my mind.

I went to the other end of the house and knocked on my mother’s bedroom. She snored like a bear and it took a few raps before she finally woke up and answered.

“Porter. What’s the matter? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I can’t find Delilah. She’s not in bed and I’ve looked everywhere.”

She tied the sash of her robe around her waist, cinching it tight. “After supper, she said she was going to bed. She had a heck of a day. The sadness was written clear across her face.”

“Can you help me look?”

“Of course.”

We scrambled through the house, June eventually joining us. We’d made enough commotion in the house to wake the dead. Though from the last week’s events, the dead were already alive and well. Room by room we checked.

“I’ll get my coat and start outside,” I barked at my mother who agreed.

I’d just reached for my boots when I heard June talking behind me. “She’s in your room, Porter. Bless her heart.”

I backtracked, going back upstairs without a second look to June or my mother. I had heard her giggle as I passed, but I no longer cared.

If a man was desperate about anything, it should be getting to his wife.

And that’s all I wanted.

The door to my room was shut. In my search, I’d overlooked it, thinking that she’d never go in there. There was no reason to. I was wrong.

As I opened the door, I was hit with a vision from a dream. Delilah was laying on her side, facing the door, her arms wrapped around my pillow for dear life. I let out a breath I’d been holding since I’d seen her bed empty and closed the door behind me.

The girl who not long ago was a withered flower with torn petals and too many thorns had come back to life. In just a week’s time she had changed into a beauty among women. Her cheeks had filled out a bit. Though she was covered with a blanket, I could see the change in her shape. What once was a thinning body that mirrored a skeleton more than a lady was now taking the shape of a vixen. Her raven hair spilled onto the white pillow below her head like ink blotted on paper.

And I knew behind those peaceful eyelids were a pair of iridescent blue eyes that sunk me with every blink.

I grabbed my night clothes and intended to sneak out of the room when a voice so tender and true stopped me cold. “Porter?”

“It’s late, love. I’m going to sleep in another room. Everything is fine.”

“Don’t leave me.” Those three words, whispered in the darkness, ended any chances I had of keeping my promise of leaving her alone intact.

I sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand.

Please don’t be enough. Please want more from me. Please want me to hold you.

“Are you okay?”

She replaced the pillow in its spot and leaned on her elbow, scooting closer to me. “I am now.”

“Did something happen?”

“No. I—I missed you terribly.”

She looked down as if missing me was something to be ashamed of.

“I did too—so much.”

“Can you stay with me tonight?”

I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed to hear those words until she’d spoken them. They went straight to my heart. Not because of the promise of something more, but her simple request of my presence was enough.

“Of course. Let me go change into my pajamas.”

After I’d changed into my pajama pants, I sat down on the bed again. I wanted to be sure she wanted me with her.

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Moving the covers, I laid next to her close enough to feel her warmth but far enough away to give her space.

“How was your trip?”

Her hand found mine under the blanket. I turned to face her and mimicked her pose, resting on my elbow.

“It was fine. I brought you something.”

“You’ve got to stop this, Porter. I don’t want things.”

Reaching out to touch her hair, I pressed the issue. “What do you want?”

“I want joy and peace.”

“You don’t have that?”

“I’m getting there.” She released my hand and touched my chest. “What do
you
want, Porter?”

“I just want your love.”

She gasped and a lone tear dropped from the cliff of her eye. “You have it.”

My heart beat double-time. It was so loud, I was sure everyone in the house could hear it pounding. We lay in silence for a few moments, drinking each other in by the light of the bayou moon.

I yawned and Delilah giggled. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“It’s going to be a task with you over there.”

She moved closer, lining her body up flush with mine and then rested her cheek on my chest. “Sleep, Porter.”

“Goodnight, Delilah.”

I woke but kept my eyes shut. The absence of her feather weight and delicate smell was noticed immediately. I shot up to a sitting position only to have my fear quelled by the sight of Delilah sitting by the window.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning to you. It’s late, but you looked so tired. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Come here.”

She got up, adjusting the robe to assure her modesty and then climbed back into bed, kneeling beside me. Her hair was long and straight. The ends of it tickled my stomach.

“I didn’t want to leave the room. I’m afraid of your mother seeing me here.”

“She already knows, Delilah. Besides, we’re married. It’s okay to sleep with your husband.”

Her hands flew to her face and she leaned over to lay across my chest. “That’s the first time you’ve called yourself my husband.”

“If it makes you blush and throw yourself at me, then I’ll have to say it more often.”

“Porter!” She moved, nudging me in jest. Her hair was all around me, over my stomach, on my sides, and spilling like water over her shoulders.

I didn’t think I’d known true happiness until that moment, having her so close.

Who knew so much could change with one night spent next to someone you loved.

“Anyway, it was my mother who found you here. We’d been looking for…it felt like for hours and then she found you. I was about to go insane with worry.”

Slowly she turned. She ran her hands through my hair and down the scruff I’d grown from being away until the morning. “One time when I was about fourteen, I decided to run away. My mom had blamed me for something—I don’t even remember what. So, I ran out and to the land by the small pond at the north of the village. Do you know which one I’m talking about?”

“Sable’s pond.” I added and sat up so that I could see her better.

“I went there and spent two nights without a fire. I don’t know how to build a fire. My parents didn’t want me handling the firewood. They were afraid I was going to throw them into it or something. After two nights of freezing almost to death, I went home. My mother accused me of trying to get a job at The Plots. She went on and on for months about how she didn’t blame them for turning down someone like me.” Her voice waivered with the last word. She’d hidden the pain of how her parents treated her for too long with no one to give it to. I would take it all from her—take it upon myself to ease her burden.

“They’re not welcome in our home. I know they are your parents and I allowed one visit to tamper down any rumors flying around, but hearing what they put you through—I won’t tolerate them in our home. I won’t give them a chance to hurt you again. And for the record, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I swear you grow more and more alluring by the day.”

Delilah ticked her eyes to the side of the bed. It would take a lifetime to undue her parents’ abuse. I was happy to be tasked with the responsibility.

“Thank you. I’d better go get dressed. We should at least try to make it down for breakfast.”

“We should.”

She rose from the bed and opened the door, looking left and right as though she were about to cross the street.

“Are you going to do that every morning?” I poked fun at her anxiety.

“Who says this will be a recurring event?”

I walked over to her and pulled her back against me while shutting the door.

“Are you saying you didn’t like sleeping next to me?”

Her breathing became labored. I placed my mouth next to her ear. “Delilah, is that what you’re saying?”

“No.”

“Good. Hurry up and get to breakfast.”

I hadn’t let her go and didn’t release her when she made a move to leave.

“Porter.”

“You’d leave me without a kiss?”

In one lightning movement, she was free from my hold and had opened the door. “Behave, Mr. Jeansonne.”

I’d never wanted to misbehave so much before.

The smile response from her feistiness was planted on my face the rest of the morning until I entered the dining room. I could hear the female chatter from the stairs.

It ended when I opened the door.

“What are you three up to?”

“It’s our morning gossip,” June answered with a warm grin.

“Morning gossip? Not about me, I hope.”

My mother sighed and picked at a nonexistent speck on the tablecloth. “No, Delilah won’t give us anything delicious to talk about.”

Delilah choked on her coffee, more like milk with a drop of coffee. Red apple flush took over her cheeks and crept down her long neck. “I—I’m just going to be quiet.”

The entire table laughed at her candor. My wife was a bright light in what had become a dreary routine. We’d all walked in a haze of aftermath for far too long.

“I have to talk to Rebel.” I said, while sitting down at a breakfast I’d never intended on partaking in, but somehow found myself wanting.