Lori Connelly (11 page)

“A little,” Tears thickened her voice as melancholy took hold. Muffled conversation drifted from the next room through the wall in front of her.

“You want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

Her fingers toyed with a loose thread. “No.”

“I’m sorry.”

The wealth of sadness in his simple statement commanded Evie’s attention. She turned to face him again. “What are you sorry about?”

“Everything,” His arm remained over her waist but his hand now rubbed gentle circles on her back.

Shock rendered her mute for several seconds. “You aren’t responsible for everything.”

“I’m responsible for us, for what went so wrong.”

“No,” she lifted a hand, cupped his cheek. “We’re responsible for what’s wrong and we’ll fix it, together.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I am. Have you ever known me to be wrong?”

Her transparent attempt to lighten the mood made Ben shake his head. “My dear wife my memory of you is measured in weeks.”

“And in that time?” Undeterred she persisted.

“I can’t think of any specific instances.”

“Exactly.”

He snorted, “You are unbelievable.”

“I’m glad you noticed.” Humor flavored her voice.

“Seriously, you are.”

Her mood shifted without warning. Bitterness dulled her voice. “I wish you believed that before.”

Silence enfolded them like an old wool blanket, suffocating and uncomfortable. Minutes ticked by, slowly.

“I can’t change what’s already happened,” his tone somber.

You’d carry a grudge to the grave.

Is I’m sorry never good enough?

Echoes of the past, haunted her and embarrassment heated her face. Whenever they made progress toward healing their strained relationship, she seemed to ruin it.

“Ben I-”

“We need to sleep. Let’s talk in the morning.”

“But,” then she noticed the deep lines of exhaustion on his face. “Sure that’s a good idea.”

Evie watched him close his eyes, waited until he started to breathe deeply then rolled onto her back but stayed in the circle of his arms. Her gaze shifted, to stare through a section of window into the night. A cloud floated over the night sky, and eclipsed the moon. Regret nagged her as the room darkened. A long time passed before she could join Ben in sleep.

Around dawn, Ben jolted awake. He sat up with a muffled curse, scanned the room for what rudely disturbed him. A hard kick to his calf gave him the answer. His wife twisted and turned in her sleep as if she fought an invisible foe.

“Evie,” He laid a hand on her shoulder, hoped to calm her.

The instant his hand touched her she punched him. Knocked off balance by the unexpected strike, Ben fell back, out of the bed. He groaned, picked himself up and returned to her side.

Though he tried to evade her flailing fists, she landed blow after blow. Ben shook her shoulder hard. “Evie, wake up.”

“No.” Her voice rang with determined anger.

In self-defense, he grabbed one wrist and pinned it above her head. Her legs kicked free of the covers. He swung onto the bed, threw one leg over her thighs and pinned them. Ben then captured her other wrist and held it with the first in a firm one-hand grip. His body pressed down on her, sought control against her opposition.

With his free hand, Ben stroked her cheek. His face inches above hers, he rambled nonsense in a low soothing tone until she stilled. Her eyes opened. Evie stared at him, her expression confused and haggard. The flush her struggles brought to her cheeks leeched away.

“You okay?”

Caught up in his concern, he didn’t think to release her or move away. Ben ran a hand lightly over her hair, a gesture of comfort. Worry deepened at her lack of response. He whispered assurances unable to look away from her brilliant blue eyes.

All at once, the intimate nature of their position brought charged awareness. Her body, curved in all the right places, fit against Ben as if created just for him. His world narrowed until it held only the two of them. His free hand propped him up as he released her wrists to cup the side of her face.

Fascinated by its shape, Ben focused on her mouth. His body stiffened with arousal. He lowered his face, slowly savoring anticipation. His lips felt her breath a second before his brain registered the agitation in her voice and he stilled.

“What are you doing?”

“Ah, you were having a nightmare-”

“And you crawled on top of me to snap me out of it?”

“Well kind of, yeah.”

Her expression skeptical, she blinked several times, stared at him. “Did it occur to you to try saying wake up, you’re having a nightmare?”

“I tried that. It didn’t work.”

“Then you should’ve tried again.”

Ben tried to defend himself as he eased off her to stand beside the bed. “I did.”

“Obviously not loud enough,” Her tone sharp with suspicion, sarcasm dripped with each word. “Is this how you act married?”

“No,” his tone sharp, emphatic.

Evie sat up, her tone contemptuous. “So you merely seized the opportunity.”

“I wasn’t trying to rush you or take advantage.” Ben held her gaze a moment then reached down for his pants, started to dress. “I was trying to help.”

His voice, steady and a shade cool, finally pierced her haze of anger. The dream and her fear within it still felt real. She took in a deep breath. As Evie sought calm, she noticed that the skin around his left eye appeared puffy and red. She pointed to the area.

“Did I do that?”

“Yes ma’am.” Ben shrugged into his shirt.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ve had worse.” He finished buttoning up his shirt then sat on the bed, pulled on his boots. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Still I am sorry.”

Ben looked her straight in the eye, “For hitting me or making accusations after?”

“Both,” Her whisper soft, husky.

“Okay,” he leaned in close. “And I’m sorry I upset you.”

“I overreacted, was disturbed by the dream.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“All right.”

“Ben,” Evie licked her lips, anticipation raced through her veins. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Definitely,” His tone dead serious left no doubt.

Rendered speechless, Evie stared at her husband, eyes wide, heart a flutter as her lips parted slightly.

“But not now,” His expression appeared strained but his gaze held hers, calm and steady. “I don’t think either of us can sleep now. We may as well get moving.” Ben stood and put on his hat. “I’ll go get your clothes and fetch the wagon.”

By the time, Evie snapped out of her daze, he’d left. She got up, crossed over to the window, pushed aside the curtain and leaned her forehead against cool glass. Her gaze found Ben as he exited the hotel onto the street two floors below a couple of minutes later. Tears welled up, spilled onto her cheeks when he strode out of view. Sunshine poured through the window, which delivered light but little warmth. Evie shivered while she dressed and wished she hadn’t left her cloak in the wagon. She tied on her boots then made the bed. In a hurry to be ready before Ben returned, she shook her hair loose, ran her brush through it and braided it again.

“Ready?” Ben walked in without knocking which in an odd way comforted her. A normal husband acted with familiarity.

“Almost,” Evie stuffed her brush into the bag then handed it to him. “I need a moment. Can we meet downstairs?”

“Sure. Bill’s settled. I’ll be in the lobby.” He grabbed the rifle and left again.

Evie followed Ben to the hall, watched him walk away until he moved out of sight. Her feet dragged as she walked toward the lobby a short time later. With such a jarring, emotional start, she didn’t hold hope the day would get better. She stepped into the room and Ben turned to greet her.

The warmth of her husband’s smile struck her dumb. He reached out, took her hands in his. When he spoke, his low voice rang with sincerity. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” Evie returned his smile full measure.

“Can we put aside what happened upstairs for a while?”

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” He squeezed her fingers as they walked across the room and out onto the busy sidewalk. “Hungry?”

Despite the number of clouds that crowded the blue above, Evie felt her day brighten. “Yes, yes I am.”

Hand in hand, they walked to the restaurant where, for over an hour, Ben charmed her. He held out her chair, fed her choice bits off his plate and entertained her with stories she’d heard a hundred times before yet held her in thrall nonetheless. All too soon for Evie, the meal was over and it was time to go.

Ben gave the boy he’d asked to watch the wagon a coin. For a second he watched the young one scamper off then he turned to face Evie. His lips curved in a suggestion of a smile, forest green eyes mesmerizing her. When his hands came up to span her waist, she gasped. Her hands rose to cover his.

Warmth radiated from where they touched. Ben moved closer. Her skirt brushed against his legs. His face was close enough to touch. Their breath mingled. Her eyes started to shut.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” an exhale, a whisper, she answered.

Before she could form a coherent thought, Ben stepped back, twisted her about then lifted. Evie struggled to put her feet and hands in the correct places as she climbed onto the seat. A moment later, her breath hitched as he slid up beside her. She stole a sideways glance at him under her lashes, nervous. Her He stretched, arched over the low back of the seat, arms above his head.

The power implied by his action triggered memories that her imagination built on and delivered potent imagery. Her pulse raced. Transfixed, several seconds passed before she averted her gaze to look overhead. The sun had disappeared and a dismal gray painted the sky. Evie clasped her hands together in her lap and tried not to shiver.

“You cold?” Ben straightened, touched her arm.

His attention brought heat to her cheeks. Flustered, she rubbed damp palms over her skirt, “A little.”

“Want your cloak?” He looked over his shoulder. “I think I can reach it.”

“That’d be nice.”

Evie deliberately didn’t look at him as he got the garment and tossed it in her lap. “Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome.” He snapped the reigns, which set them in motion and drew her gaze to his muscled arms.

A beat of excitement pulsed through her when she thought of the sheer strength he’d used to boost her up. Scattered drops of rain fell, which prompted her to pull on her cloak. In that innocent motion, her thigh brushed his. Doubt snaked in even as the whisper of a touch quickened her breath. The strength of their physical bond had distracted her in the past, made it all too easy to ignore problems.

Troubled, her emotions felt jumbled and Evie fell silent as they headed out of town. Tall, slender oaks grew in clumps on either side of them. Cattle grazed among the trees for the first miles then farms and their livestock became rare. The road roughened and Ben slowed their pace, tried to avoid the deepest ruts.

“Was it the nightmare?”

“What?” Startled, Evie shot him a puzzled look.

Ben continued to focus forward. “It seems to me that after being married for five years,” he cleared his throat. “It shouldn’t have upset you for me to be on top of you.”

Evie pulled in a deep breath and let it out.

“So was it the nightmare or me?”

“Both,” Random droplets became a persistent drizzle. She pulled her hood up, covered her head.

“Will you tell me about it?”

Wind gusted, blew hair in her eyes. “The night before you were hurt, you were gone.” She tucked wayward strands behind her ear. “Some of the neighbor’s ranch hands harassed me.” Memories flitted through her mind. “I ran in the cabin and eventually they rode off, never touched me. In the nightmare though, one of them broke in the door then … ”

“You woke with me on you.”

“And I just … ” Evie shook her head, “sorry.”

“No I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“You didn’t cause the nightmare.”

“Didn’t I?” Eyes dark with emotion, Ben looked at her, expression fierce. “Why wasn’t I there that night?” Evie bit her lip, wouldn’t answer. “I was out drinking wasn’t I?”

Her gaze dropped to her lap. “I found you in the barn the next morning, passed out, smelling of whiskey.”

“And those men, they were harassing you because of me, something I’d done, weren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“That won’t happen again.”

“Okay,” His harsh whisper tugged at her heart but didn’t banish doubt or heal her hurt.

“You’ve no reason to believe I’ll be different do you?”

Evie didn’t know what to say and so said nothing. She felt his gaze for a long moment before he looked away. Waves of emotion flowed off him but Ben didn’t break the silence between them. In fact, her husband didn’t speak again until a river halted them in their tracks around midday.

The road led directly into the water then reappeared across from them after a few wagon lengths. In either direction, the river stretched out as far as the eye could see without a bridge or ferry. Already miserable, her spirits sank further.

“The crossing will be rough.”

Evie watched a tree limb float past them, “Should we wait?”

“The rain isn’t letting up,” His tone grave, Ben waited for her to face him. “Best we go now, it’ll only get worse.”

Her lips pressed tight together, Evie nodded. He gave her shoulder a brief squeeze then eased them forward. Water churned around the wheels and in minutes splashed the mare’s belly.

Thunder clapped. Their small, light wagon barely resisted the current’s pull as they inched onward. Rain fell harder and soon drenched them. Her gaze swung to Ben, sought hope but found little comfort. His clenched jaw and rigid upper body shouted tension.

Without warning, the wagon shook hard. She glanced forward and saw Sugar had stumbled. They rocked dangerously as the mare struggled. Water whipped into froth around them. She grabbed Ben, her nails dug deep into his sleeve.

“We’ll be fine,” His voice gentle as he firmly removed her hand. “Stay calm.”

To her surprise and immense relief, he was right. Sugar regained her footing and they moved forward. Some tense moments later, they made it across. The muddy road sucked at the wheels, stalled them a few feet from their goal. Before Ben could object, Evie swung down to see if she could find some brush to help their traction. One slip and the current swept her away.

“Evie get back up here,” With a white knuckled grip on the reigns, Ben shouted. Thunder offered another roar, “Evie.”

Seconds stretched into a full minute. Water dripped off the brim of his hat into his eyes. The wagon rocked as Sugar pulled forward in starts and stops. His gaze searched frantically, unsuccessfully for his wife until he twisted to look where he wanted to least. His heart stopped. In a tangle of branches down river, yards from shore, he saw bright blue.

Immediately he dropped the reigns and jumped down. Ben ripped off his jacket as he ran along the bank. His hat blew off, his breath rasped and his still healing ribs screamed protests he ignored. He charged over rain-slicked earth until she was almost within reach then jumped in.

The icy water stole his breath. Choppy waves slapped his face. Ben grabbed one of the slick branches that trapped Evie and used it as an anchor. The current’s constant pull sapped at his strength. Hand over hand he advanced to his wife. Fingers numb, Ben reached her more through desperation than skill.

“Please God,” With one arm still wrapped around the branch, he pulled her against him, held her head above the water. Eyes closed and expression pale, slack, Evie didn’t respond.

With a sharp crack the branch he clung to broke, the water started to pull him away from his wife. Splinters pierced his skin as he clawed at other pieces of wood until he gained a new hold. Frantic, Ben groped underwater, blindly, until he found what exactly trapped Evie.

Wet, slimy branches wedged together, formed a deadly net, which held one leg fast. Wind whipped rain beat his skin as he tore at the sticks, cursed and pleaded with God. When at last he freed her, the current swept them down river. His muscles quivered as Ben fought to hold onto his wife.

His mind and body numb, he acted on instinct. Pain shot through his shoulder during the long process of towing Evie to shore, the cost of keeping her dead weight afloat. It took what felt like forever to reach land. For every yard forward they were carried several downstream but in the end, Ben got them to the shallows.

Weary, he struggled to stand. Thick muck imprisoned his foot when Ben tried to take a step. Frustration, worry and fear sent curses flying past his lips. He pulled up too hard and fell back, almost lost his hold on her when his shoulder slammed against an underwater stump.

Pain snapped everything into sharp focus. They had to get out of the water. Ben got to his feet and lifted Evie in his arms. Rain and wind continued unabated as he stumbled forward on pure stubborn will. His ribs on fire, he was barely able to breathe. He moved in a ragged diagonal path toward a clump of trees some distance from the water.

The water level dropped to mid-calf level. Movement became easier even as gusts of cold air sent daggers of frost through his clothing. Ben couldn't feel his fingers, his feet felt like blocks of ice.

Determined, Ben trudged on. It seemed like an eternity before they were out and away from the river. He collapsed to his knees. Beyond exhaustion, he first sat then lay down on the ground, flat on his back, with Evie on top of him from the waist down. His arms held her close even as his eyes shut.

“Evie,” Ben woke with a start, looked up at a clear section of sky. The rain had stopped. In the cloud-strewn heavens, the sun shone directly overhead, which meant only a short time could have passed,
“Evie?”

When she didn’t respond, he eased out from under her, laid her out beside him. Apprehension shook the hand as he stretched out above her mouth. Seconds passed. His heart crashed against his chest. Ben stared down at her pale features, panic built up swiftly, and then he felt her breath.

“Thank God.” He gathered her to him, rocked her in his arms. “Thank God.”

Without warning, Evie coughed then spewed a huge amount of river water over him. Ben froze. After a moment, he gently laid her down on her back. He rubbed his face with hands that shook then let out a long breath. Relieved, the slight rise and fall of her chest captivated him for a time.

Ben reached out and caressed her cheek. “Evie,” When that didn’t get a response, he shook her shoulder and got a mumble out of his wife. He tried again in a forceful tone. “Come on honey, open your eyes for me.”

Her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. His gaze drifted over the length of her, looked for obvious injuries. To his great relief, he spotted nothing but when he looked back at her face, blue tinged lips brought concern. Ben stood but a sound drew his attention before he took a step.

His thoughts sluggish, it took him a moment to link the noise with the sight of Sugar and their wagon a good distance up river. Ben raked fingers through his hair. He didn’t know what would be best. To build a fire quickly, he needed supplies. In his current condition, it’d take precious time to carry her or he could leave her here, rush to the wagon and drive back.

A low rumble of thunder interrupted his thoughts, caused him to look up. Angry clouds appeared in the distance, poised to retake the sky. He had to act. With the relative shelter of their branches, the trees several feet away, offered an option.

Sweat dripped into his eyes as Ben picked her up. Every few steps he had to stop and catch his breath. When they reached the destination, he set her down, touched her cheek then without giving himself the opportunity to waver, he strode away, refused to look back, eyes focused on his goal.

Concern that she remained unconscious haunted him, spurred Ben onward. His long strides covered ground rapidly. Along the way, he spotted his coat and hat and recovered them with little effort. The river roiled against the confines of its banks by the time he reached the wagon. He climbed up and slapped the reigns, drove at speed back to his wife.