Lori Connelly (7 page)

As they moved along, an older man with an unkempt beard accompanied by a well-brushed mutt passed them. The dog’s tongue hung out of his open mouth, sharp teeth, blinding white. His canine smile lightened her mood a notch.

A few steps further on, a large family spilled out in front of them. The children dashed away, their laughter floated on the breeze. Ben caught the door they’d opened and the aroma of buttermilk biscuits teased the air. Her stomach growled.

A waitress sat them at a corner table. “Our special this morning is fried ham and scrambled eggs with biscuits.”

“Sounds good to me, Evie?” Ben removed his hat, placed it on the bag that she’d put on the floor between their feet.

“Yes please and coffee?”

“With honey?”

Touched that he noticed that small detail, her lips curved in a brief smile. Evie nodded in agreement as he propped the rifle against the wall beside her. The other woman hurried off to return with steaming cups and sweetener a moment later.

Evie thanked her, hands already in motion to doctor her drink. Sips of the rich, hot brew soothed her throat until the waitress returned later with their breakfast. Thick slices of pink meat accompanied by golden fluffy eggs and two biscuits, fresh from the oven and still hot, stirred her appetite. She set her cup down.

“I understand you want to stay here but with Mr. Sims-”

“It isn’t just him against us.” She disclosed in a faint whisper, her gaze on focused her plate.

“Oh?”

“I’m not sure I want to discuss it in public.”

“Frankly hon’ you haven’t wanted to discuss much in private either and you brought it up.”

Her hands shook as she sliced a biscuit in half and smeared butter on both sides. “You’ve made some enemies.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m leaving.”

I?
Despite all their problems, the thought of being without Ben struck her heart a blow. She averted his eyes, gazed out the window to hide a wave of panic. A man strolled by with a baby in his arms, waving tiny fists in the air. She wondered if he knew how lucky he was.

“You want to leave me?”

“No, of course not, you’re my wife.”

Relief loosened the knot in her stomach. Her gaze shifted back to Ben. “Does that mean you’d stay if I don’t want to go?”

“I don’t think that’s an option.”

“Because you know best,” Her mood shifted like sand in a swift stream. She stabbed a slice of meat with excess force.

“Because the people here don’t want us to stay,” His calm, patient tone shamed her.

“Some don’t,” She cut her ham into tiny bits.

“I’d say most. Take a look around the room.”

Evie did as he bid. From almost every table people stared at her with expressions of either overt hostility or rampant curiosity. A few people even moved their chairs, pointedly, so their backs were to her.

Frustration and anger battled for a voice. Yet Evie kept her tone even with effort when she looked back at him. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I don’t believe you did,” Somber eyes met her gaze. “But you’re married to me. And I apparently have. They’ve made up their minds and a man like Mr. Sims will use that to his advantage.”

Like salt on raw flesh, his words burned. He was right. It wasn’t fair but she knew he was right. Arguing for what might have been was pointless.

Sheer determination brought her fork up to her lips. She managed only a few bites then pushed her plate away unable to swallow more.

“Can we talk about where you’d like to go?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Her voice hollow, gaze focused on the table, she shook her head.

The waitress stopped by and poured fresh coffee. Evie reached for her cup, grateful for something to do. He captured her free hand.

“You mentioned my cousins in Oregon. How about there?”

Evie stared at her husband, startled. Before he’d lost his memory Ben had never consulted her. He’d always announced where they’d go then convince her it was the best, the only choice. Her hand brushed her skirt. Again, she wondered at the change in him.

“Oregon?” Evie pulled her hand free.

“Does that sound good? Unless of course you know something I don’t about my cousins.”

“All I know is that they live near Fir Mountain.”

Her foot started to tap, beat a rapid rhythm on the wooden floor as she considered their options. After years of being the outsider, the outlaw’s wife, her yearning to belong still beat strong. She liked the idea of living near family.

“So what do you think?”

Chatter rose and fell around them. The waitress brushed by carrying a heavy tray. Evie brought her cup close but didn’t lift it up for a sip. Instead she stared down at the black liquid as she turned the cup around and around.

Slowly, calm settled over her. She’d wanted another chance, prayed for one. Her spine straightened and she folded her hands in her lap. She raised her gaze to meet Ben’s and took a leap of faith.

“It’s a long way to go. We’ll definitely need supplies.”

His wide smile stole her breath. “We’ll grab enough to make it someplace we’re welcome then restock, get directions.”

“Sounds good,” Nervous, she tucked hair behind her ear.

“It might be best to cover some miles before nightfall.”

Evie nodded.

“I’ll go settle our bill.” Ben reached down for his hat then stood. His hand cupped her jaw. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

Her skin tingled from his touch while her gaze tracked him across the room. Emotions wove together in a pattern she felt strongly yet couldn’t understand. “I hope not.”

By the time, Ben returned, she stood, bag in hand, ready to go. Then they walked to the general store, purchased an assortment of canned foods and a lantern. Each carried a full box as they headed to the stables a few streets south. There they loaded their burdens into the wagon.

Evie leaned against a rough brick wall, sheltered in the shadows, hands in her pockets and started to relax just as heavy steps crunched the gravel underfoot. The hairs on the back of her neck rose instantly. She inched the pistol out but concealed it among the folds of her shirt. Mouth dry, she turned to face the danger she was certain she felt, lifted her weapon with a remarkably steady grip, her finger ready on the trigger.

Two men approached. They didn’t look the slightest bit intimidated by the gun, “Where’s your husband lady?”

“Stop right there.” Sweat dampened her forehead.

They continued without pause. “We want our money back.”

The soft boot step from behind shook her like thunder. A ball of nausea formed in her belly. They had her surrounded.

“What seems to be the problem gentlemen?”

Relief flooded her at the sound of his voice and she swayed on her feet. Ben stepped around from behind her and stopped just ahead but to the left, where he wouldn’t block her shot.

The men stopped. “We want our money Rolfe.”

“I don’t have any to give you.”

“Liar, you took the largest kitty last week, all our pay.”

Gambling
. Evie grimaced. That explained all the coin.

“That’s the risk you take when you sit at the table.”

“You cheated,” The stranger’s voice sent chills down her spine. “Give us what you owe or we’ll take it out of your pretty wife’s hide.”

“Enough,” The strength of Ben’s anger almost a physical force, Evie shivered despite the sunshine. “Clear out now.”

“We’re not-”

Ben aimed the rifle. “You have to the count of three.”

“You wouldn’t dare-”

“One,”
click.

“It’s broad-”

Click.
“Two.”

The men turned tail and ran. Ben turned to face her. His dark green eyes glittered with strong emotion. Her hand shook so bad, it took three tries to slide the gun into her pocket.

“You all right?”

“A little shaky.”

“Understandable,” His gentle tone soothed and he wrapped his free arm around her. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I believe it’s time to leave. Come on, we’re burning daylight.”

Evie dug in her heels. “We need to discuss this.”

“I wish I could,” Ben looked her square in the eye. “But I don’t remember those men or know what they’re talking about so it’s safer for us to get the hell out of here before they come back with their friends.”

“Oh.” Her mind blanked.

“Ready to go?” His breath feathered her ear.

Unsure what to say or feel, Evie allowed Ben to guide her to the wagon and climbed up. He handed up the rifle then joined her on the seat. Evie clutched the weapon in a finger-cramping grip as they drove forward; worried another unforeseen threat would jump out at them.

Sometime later, they left Cedar Ridge without another incident and the road for miles ahead of them appeared all but deserted. On either side, a sea of overgrown grasses waved in the wind, a much needed, peaceful sight. Evie looked back. As civilization faded from view, tension drained and she slumped.

“You can lean against me if you’d like.”

Hysterical laughter threatened to escape and Evie’s right leg bounced rapidly. She clenched and unclenched her sweat damp hands, biting the inside of her cheek, hard. Pain and the unpleasant taste of blood bought her some control.

“I’m fine,” she said as she smoothed her bunched skirt. She glanced at Ben, slouched in obvious ease beside her and then scanned the horizon. The mare plodded along, the easy pace quickly made her want to scream. “Shouldn’t we go faster?”

“This pace is best for Sugar. Why, is there a problem?”

A gentle spring breeze carried away her soft sigh. A pair of crows sounded off from their perch in a dead oak tree. The dusty, rutted road remained empty. No reason for panic. She took a deep breath then let it out slow.

“No, no there’s not.”

Sugar’s hooves clomped against the packed earth, filled the air with a steady beat. Wispy white clouds dotted the blue sky but the sun shone bright. Evie dug the old hat out of her bag and put it on. It kept falling over her eyes until she ripped it off, grumbling.

“Do you need help?” Ben’s deep lazy voice pleased her ear, which agitated her even more.

She scowled. “No, thank you.”

“It’d be my pleasure.”

“Thank you,” Evie stated again, her tone crisp. The well-worn head cover now crushed in her tight-fisted grip. “But no.”

The wagon rocked over an uneven section of road. Ben slid across the seat, bumped her. His head turned, lips a whisper apart, their breath mingled. Awareness pulsed between them.

Heart pounding, Evie couldn’t speak. Her upper body leaned closer. Nerves crackled along points of contact. She felt his slightest movement, anticipated his kiss.

Without warning, the wagon rocked and their heads bumped together. Her eyes watered and she saw stars. Ben shifted away, “Sorry.”

Evie bowed her head and looked away. Silence descended and became more uncomfortable each second. A minute felt like an hour. Her fingers curled in tight fists, nails dug into soft skin.

This is ridiculous. Say something, anything.

“Evie,” His voice unexpected, she started and a squeak escaped her. Ben didn’t seem to notice and continued, “Look ahead, the road starts to follow a river.”

Trees lined the roadside some yards in front of them. The breeze, cooled over water, wafted over her. Evie inhaled, moist air filling her lungs. Branches bursting with leaves soon cast a shade over them.

“That’s the Foxtail,” The sound of rushing water over stones and shore begin to soothe her. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“Yes it is.” Ben turned his head, grinned.

For a long moment, Evie held his gaze and the akwardness fell away. Tension eased. A spark of warmth came into being in her heart then slowly spread. Finally, she smiled back.

By unspoken agreement for the next few hours, they chatted about nothing of consequence. They discussed the weather, the scenery and Ben’s love of fishing at length. Miles later she started to yawn. Despite her best intention, his words began to wash over her. Her chin dropped to her chest. Eyes closed, she drifted off.

The wagon groaned to a halt sometime later, and woke her. The bright sun caused spots to dance before her eyes. Evie blinked and her vision gradually cleared. Only then did she notice her position. Nestled against his warm muscular body, Ben’s arm encircled her shoulders. Sheltered, protected, she savored the moment.

“Afternoon,” His arm lifted, as he released her.

Reluctantly she straightened up. “Hi.”

“Did you have a good sleep?”

“Yes,” Evie squinted against the invasive sun. She found her hat in her lap and jammed it back on. The sheltering brim brought welcome ease. “Sorry about- ”

“Don’t be. I enjoyed being my pretty lady’s pillow.”

Is he flirting?
“Well …  I …  Why did we stop?”

“Sugar needed a rest and I need to stretch.” Ben stood, put action to his words then turned to climb down.

“Oh, I …  I mean your arm …  ” He moved out of sight. “Oh forget it.” She muttered.

Evie stretched, arched her back as she brought her hands up to rub across her face. With effort, she got to her feet and looked around. They were by a large pond in the center of a small clearing. She didn’t pay attention to Ben. He rounded the wagon, reached up and gripped her waist. The sudden touch startled her and she jerked.

Her hat tumbled off as she fell, slammed against Ben. She sucked in a strangled gasp. His arms wrapped around her, tugged her to him, safe even as the force of her impact staggered him backwards. His breath a warm breeze over her hair, Ben found his balance. He held Evie in a loose embrace, steadied her.

“You okay?”

“I …  ” Dazed she stared at her fingers splayed across his chest. The simple yet intimate touch mesmerized her. A moment passed before she eased away from him. “I’m fine, thank you for catching me.”

“My pleasure.”

Evie knelt down, grabbed the hat then smoothed her skirt in place. A cool breeze off the pond hit her and made a basic need a pressing concern. She excused herself.

Minutes later, leaves caught in her hair, scratched from several prickly plants, Evie returned but Ben had vanished. She called out to her husband but he didn’t answer. She looked around the clearing and when it appeared empty, panic gripped her, a seductive haunt that she struggled to resist.

As Evie walked around the mare, a distinct rumble caught her attention. Her lips curved into a smile. Relieved and amused, she followed the sound to its source.

Ben reclined in the shade of a tall ash on the other side of the wagon. His shoulders rested against the trunk, his legs stretched out before him. The hat tilted over his face muffled his soft snores. A folded quilt and the lunch basket rested beside his left knee.

Her stomach growled and with eager steps, Evie went to his side. She picked up the blanket and shook it out, faded colors spread over shadowed ground. Hunger became insistent when she opened the wicker container and looked inside. She sank to her knees and unpacked the contents: three sandwiches of chicken, butter and sourdough bread, several hard-boiled eggs, a couple of pickles and a canteen of water.

“Hey there,” Ben pushed his hat back to rest properly on his head. “Looks like a picnic.”

“Indeed,” Evie smiled at him. “Come join me.”

“Happy to oblige ma’am,” He scooted over, sat beside her and picked up a sandwich.

Ben polished it off in no time then shifted, tried to get comfortable. The wagon ride was torture. His ribs ached, a persistent pain that drained him though he did his best to hide it. He didn’t want Evie to notice. She had enough worries.

His gaze wandered around the clearing. A family of ducks floated on the pond. Ben pointed them out to his wife, enjoyed her unmasked delight. They watched the birds, followed their progress until they swam into some reeds. Without risking the fragile peace between them, he couldn’t think of something else to talk about. He reached for an egg, ate it in two bites then downed half the contents of the canteen.

Pale blue eyes captured his attention.
What would turn that cool color warm?
He offered her the canteen. “Thirsty?”

“Thank you,” Evie took a long drink.

Ben cleared his throat and with some reluctance decided it was time to move on from polite chitchat about the weather. “I was won-”

Sunlight abruptly dimmed and the breeze, once cool, now started to deliver a bite. Ben glanced up as angry gray clouds rolled across the sky, threatening rain. “Never mind, we need to get moving.”

“You’ve had enough to eat?”

“I can chew on this later,” Ben grabbed the last sandwich, stuffed it in his shirt pocket as he stood, gestured to the gloomy heavens, “we need to cover our stuff before it rains.”

A scattering of raindrops fell as he took the basket from Evie then helped her up. She picked up the quilt, balled it in her arms and they rushed to the wagon. Ben dropped their things into the bed while his wife pointed out where she’d packed the canvas and rope.

Before they secured their belongings, Ben made certain Evie had her cloak buttoned around her. He then fastened his jacket snug, flipped his collar up and jammed his hat down tight. As a team, they worked the canvas over the bed. Just as the droplets evolved into steady drizzle, they had it tightly bound over the bed.

Ben walked around the wagon one last time, double-checking his knots while his wife waited by the right front wheel. As he neared Evie, she tilted her head back to look at him. Unexpectedly her beauty struck him dumb. The blue trimmed hood framed her oval face, accentuated her eyes. His gaze lowered, lingered on crimson lips. It took Ben a heartbeat too long to realize she’d spoken. He looked up at her narrowed eyes and tried to sound casual.

“What was that?”

“Are we ready to go?” With a hint of exasperation in her tone, color stained her cheeks and further charmed him.

“Sure thing, darlin’.”

Flustered, Evie turned and climbed up onto the seat. She shifted on the wet leather, worked to smooth her cloak so it’d cover the full length of her skirt. Her nimble fingers became unusually clumsy when Ben sat down beside her. He was confusing her.

Water dripped off her hood and onto her hands, now folded tight together on her lap. She grimaced and pulled her arms up her sleeves for warmth and protection. In the confines of her cloak, Evie hugged herself.

“All set?”

“Yes,” She kept her answer short, soft.

Ben set the mare in motion. His action drew her gaze to his hands, strong yet relaxed, on the reigns. She’d lived with this man for years. She’d felt his passion, believed his pretty whispers in the dark.

The wind slammed hostile against her face and Evie bowed her head, pressure building behind her eyes.

“There might be a bump or two, hold on.”

“All right,” She swayed as they pulled onto the road. The bone jolting rhythm smoothed a little thereafter.

Reigns in one hand, Ben dug the sandwich out and held it under her nose. “Would you like half?”

“No, thank you.”

“Sure?”

Evie fought the urge to roll her eyes, “Yes I am sure.”

“Are you comfortable?”

“I’m fine.”

“As long as we follow the river, I’ll be able to fish.” He paused, ate the sandwich then continued. “Do you like fish?”

“I do. In fact I used to go fishing with you.”

“Really?”

“Really, but you put the worms on my hook.”

“What?” He shot her an incredulous look. “True fishermen bait their own hook.”

Evie smiled and shrugged.

“We’ll have to go fishing sometime soon then, have some fun together.” He paused, paid no heed to the rain, took another bite of sandwich. “You warm enough?”

“Yes.”

“I can get you a blanket.” He finished off the last bite.

“I’m fine.

“It’d be no trouble.”

“No, thank you.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Evie tried to contain her growing irritation. “And I’d like the quilts to stay under the canvas. We’ll need them dry tonight.”

“Well if you change your mind let me know.”

“I will.”

Just then, the sound of voices sparked unease. Evie twisted, looked behind them. No one followed. Her eyes closed for a second in relief.

More curious than worried now, she faced forward again and glanced around.

Two kids sat on a spotted horse in a nearby field. They halted their conversation, called out and waved as Ben and Evie drove by. Their animated expressions, framed by dripping hair, recalled afternoons long past when she and her brother had ran wild, explored the countryside, heedless of the weather. They’d always come home filthy.

Evie smiled as she waved back.
I miss you Henry.
Tears threatened but she refused to give her sadness full reign. They drove on, passed field after field, all empty.

A good hour passed before sound again burst into their wet, wordless, journey. Chickens clucked. Piglets squealed. A cow called for her calf as they rounded a bend in the road, passed within yards of a big weathered barn.

The noise emphasized the quiet between them so Evie attempted small talk again. “I think the rain has slowed.”

“It seems so.”

“The day started out beautiful.”

“Yes it did,” His tone, polite, even but weary.

Evie took sharper notice of her husband. He seemed more slumped And his face had paled. Foreboding knotted her belly. He shouldn’t be out in this weather. In fact, he should be in bed.

“Ben I-”

A buggy driven by a young couple approached from the front, traveled at a fast clip. The girl had her arms wrapped around one of his. As they swerved off the road, went around the wagon Evie saw them up close and their obvious infatuation made her chest ache.

After they continued, she picked up where she’d left off. “I think we should stop, let you rest again.”

“If we stop I think I’ll be done for the day.”

“That’s fine.”

“I wanted to get you to a town.”

“Admirable but I’ll be fine camping out.”

“You sure?”

“It’ll be a little wet but shouldn’t be too bad.” Evie stated even though the damp cloth of her cloak circled her neck in an icy band, “So you’ll stop?”

“As soon as I find us a good spot,” Ben looked over at her, his eyes dark with pain, which served only to solidify her concern even more.

“Good.”

The rain ceased but the clouds persisted, denying them much light or warmth. As the day darkened further, the air snapped with tension before a storm. A dense growth of trees enveloped them and the shadows made the road seem a narrow, winding trail.

Chilled to the point of misery, sore from the jarring motion of the wagon and almost sick with worry, Evie was more than ready to stop. She wanted to check him for fever and make certain his stitches held. Selfishly she also wanted some dry clothes, the warmth of a fire and her feet on solid,
motionless
earth.

As if he read her mind, Ben pulled off the road and came to a dead stop. Branches creaked with the rising wind.
Her lips parted then snapped shut as Ben swung down over the side before she could speak.

Evie shoved her arms back through her sleeves and stood. Needles pricked her skin as her right foot woke from slumber and her sodden tangled hair fell over her eyes. She brushed it back with an impatient hand then froze.

The deepening darkness was isolating. Clouds doomed the promise of moonlight while the brewing storm hovered like a threat and her heart pounded.An owl hooted and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her gaze searched the shadows.

“Ben?” She meant to yell but his name only squeaked out.

Muffled footsteps drew her attention. Evie spotted a shadowy figure in front of the mare before it vanished from her sight. “Evie.”

Her hand slapped against her chest at the sound of Ben’s voice below her, beside the wagon. Lips compressed, she glared at him. Anger flared, burned away her fears and set her in motion. She moved down fast, he reached out, tried to assist her. Once her feet were on the ground she twisted loose.

Hands fisted, Evie faced Ben, punching his chest “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Leave like that,” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I got down, walked around for a moment. I wasn’t hiding.”

“You could’ve said so.”

"I just did.”

“Exactly,” She pounced on his words as if they were an admission of guilt. “You should’ve told me beforehand.”