Lorraine Heath (22 page)

“Don’t rush,” he said.

“I’d like to get to the top before I’m an old woman.”

Her foot slipped. His hand clamped around her waist.

“Slow and easy will get you there,” he said.

“Patience is not one of my strong suits.” He chuckled. “I know.”

She jerked her head around. “What did Kirk tell you about my patience?”

“Nothing. Now reach for the roots of that tree.”

Meg did as instructed, over and over, reaching for the limbs and roots he indicated, pulling herself up, gaining ground slower than she would have liked, but losing very little. He began to slip his foot beneath hers, giving her additional support. More often, he only used one hand to hold onto the side of the hill. With his other hand, he held her waist or splayed his fingers across the small of her back. She thought he probably had the largest hands in the entire state. And perhaps the strongest. And in an odd sort of way—the gentlest.

It also occurred to her that he seemed extremely skilled at helping someone climb the hill. She wondered with how many other ladies he might have shared the bats.

“Just a little more, Miz Meg!” Josh yelled.

Meg scooted up and felt small hands grab her wrists.

“That’s it, Miz Meg,” Joe said. “We won’t let you fall.”

She smiled as she eased over the edge of the hill. Then she shrieked as Clay pushed against her backside and sent her sprawling over the top.

She scrambled to her feet and glared at the man as he worked his way over the edge. She was tempted to place her foot on his shoulder and send him back down the hill.

Rubbing his hands on his thighs, he turned as red as the sun-banked horizon. “I’m sorry. It just seemed the best way to get you over the edge.”

Meg dusted off her skirt and flicked her hands over her backside. “No harm done, but I think I could have gotten over without assistance.”

“Come on, Miz Meg,” Josh said. “It’s pert’ near time.”

The boys grabbed her hands and pulled her toward the far side of the plateau. When they reached it they released their hold, fell to their stomachs, and peered over the ledge.

“Oh, don’t do that,” she said. “You’ll fall.”

“No, we won’t,” Josh assured her.

“It bothers Mrs. Warner for you to be so near the edge,” Clay said. “You won’t miss anything if you scoot back.”

Joe glanced over his shoulder. “How come we can call her Miz Meg and you can’t?”

“Because she and I have a business arrangement. It wouldn’t be proper.”

“She call you Mr. Holland?”

“No. You need to be watching for the bats now.”

Meg was grateful the boys turned their attention back to the view before them. She didn’t want to explain why she wouldn’t say their brother’s name. Carefully, she walked to the edge and eased onto her stomach beside Joe. Clay stretched out beside Josh, and she was glad they had the buffer of the twins between them.

“Gawd Almighty! Look at the sky,” Josh said.

“Yep, it’s beautiful all right,” Clay said.

The deep blue sky melted into wisps of pink weaving among streaks of lavender and orange. Meg couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually watched the sun set and appreciated its majestic farewell. The moon was already a faint glow as though anxious to bring on the night.

“Do you come here often?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Josh said. “As often as we can. It’s a good place to be glad for all the things we have.”

For all the things they had: an occasional biscuit, a brother who was shunned by the community. She didn’t know if their innocence was a blessing or a curse.

“Look, Miz Meg. There they are.”

She peered over the edge at the hills fanning out over the countryside. She saw a small spiral of smoke rising into the fading sky. “Where do they come from?” she asked.

“We don’t know,” Josh said. “We figure there’s a cave or somethin’ down there, but it’s one of those things where the not knowin’ makes it special.”

Josh scrambled over Clay’s back. Quickly, Joe followed him. Josh reached across Clay and patted the spot he’d vacated. “Move over here, Miz Meg, so you can see better.”

She wanted to tell them that she could see just fine where she was, but she could tell from their expressions that the twins thought they were offering her the most wonderful gift in the world. How could she possibly face them tomorrow if she hurt their feelings now?

She scooted over until she was as close to Clay as she could get without actually touching him. The twins nestled beside Clay as though settling in for a long night’s sleep.

The spiral of smoke widened and reached higher. The flurry of activity blackened the sky. Meg heard high-pitched squeaks and the rustle of wings. She’d never experienced anything like it.

Moments passed, and no one spoke, as though each was mesmerized by the incredible number of bats soaring toward the distant horizon.

“Where do they go?” Meg whispered.

“Got no idea,” Clay said.

“When do they come back?”

“Near dawn.”

“How do you know?”

“We stayed here all night once waiting to see when they came back.”

“You and the twins?”

“No, me and your husband. Only he wasn’t your husband at the time.”

Meg intertwined her fingers. “I won’t get upset if you say his name.”

He slid his gaze over to hers. “I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful.”

“I won’t think that.”

Sagely, he nodded before turning his attention back to the flying creatures.

“I guess you’ve shared the bats with a lot of people,” she said, wishing it didn’t bother her to think about all the women with whom he might have shared this unique place.

“Just you and the twins. Invited Lucian once, but he wasn’t interested.”

The smoky haze of bats disappeared, leaving an audible silence in their wake. Meg wished she could stay here forever, away from the bitter words and hatred that filled the world below.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” she said quietly.

“M
IZ
M
EG
!”

Meg dismounted the next morning and hugged each twin before handing them the reins. “Thank you for yesterday evening,” she said.

“Our pleasure, ma’am,” Josh said. “And guess what? We figured out who you should marry.”

Meg stopped walking, not certain she wanted to hear this announcement. How could she explain that she would never, could never marry their brother?

“We decided you ought to marry Robert Warner.”

“Robert?”

“Yes, ma’am. He seems nice enough, and you wouldn’t have to change your name.”

Meg laughed self-consciously. “I thought you were going to say I should marry your brother.”

“Clay?”

She nodded.

“Ah no, ma’am.” Josh said. “It wouldn’t do at all for you to marry Clay. If you married him, he’d no doubt want to kiss you from time to time, and we figure kissin’ is unpleasant enough when you like the person you’re kissin'. It’d be downright miserable to kiss someone you hated.”

Meg felt her heart lurch. It bothered her that the twins realized that she hated their brother. The words coming from their innocent mouths sounded so ugly.

They walked toward the shed. Clay stood in the doorway, waiting for her. Yesterday had changed something between them, and she had a feeling that the following days would more closely resemble the days they’d shared before Tom had needed a marker for his daughter.

When they neared the shed, the twins led the horse away. Clay gave her a cautious smile. “Morning.”

She laced her fingers together. “Good morning.”

“I like the way you’re wearing your hair now,” he said.

Meg touched the chignon. “This is less trouble than trying to imprison it in a knot at the back.”

“Looks prettier, too.” He stepped back. “It’s been a couple of days since I did any cutting. Hope I remember how.”

“I would think it’s not something you’d easily forget.”

Tying his bandanna over his face, he walked to his table. Meg picked the bandanna off the chair. “Will we need to wear these when you’re cutting the details?”

“No,” he said, his breath causing his bandanna to billow away from his mouth.

She remembered the feel of that warm breath last night on her flesh. Sitting, she wrapped the bandanna around her face. She was as anxious now to watch Clay work unmasked as she was to see Kirk’s features take shape in the stone.

Clay began to work, and clouds of dust materialized. Before she went home each evening, she stopped along the river to wash off the stone powder coating her skin. She supposed Clay felt even grimier than she did at the end of the day. Even now, his hair was sprinkled with the fine particles.

Her thoughts drifted to Robert. He would make an exceptional husband, but the image didn’t appeal to her as much as it had two days ago. His unspoken promise lay heavy on her heart.

Clay stepped down from the stool and walked to the table. He no longer felt the need to step outside and dunk his head in a bucket of water when the scent of honeysuckle became too strong.

He’d taken it personally when she didn’t want Tom to see her here, but in the past few days, he’d learned he’d rather have her here than not. “I’m stopping for awhile.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” She rose from the chair, walked to the stone, and placed her hand on the granite.

“I carved on the other side,” he said.

“Of course.” She moved to the other side and touched the shaved stone.

“Is something bothering you today?” he asked.

She sighed. “Did you tell the twins I hate you?”

“No, but they tend to notice a lot more than they should, and sometimes they sound like eighty-year-old men thinking about life.”

She smiled weakly. “They think I should marry Robert.”

“He’s a good man.”

“He fought at Shiloh.”

“Then I’d say he was close to perfect.”

She pressed her forehead against the stone. “I loved Kirk so much. I can’t imagine someone taking his place.”

“And no one ever will, but he was the kind of man who’d step aside and make room for someone else. He’d want you to find happiness.”

“Sometimes, it seems impossible. Watching the bats was the closest I’ve come to being happy in years. The twins look at the world the way I used to, the way I always thought I would.”

A dull ache throbbed through his chest for all she’d lost. Brave Meg. She’d watched the man she loved ride away, never to return to her side. He picked up a small chisel and hammer. “Want to chip off a piece of the stone?”

She pulled her head back with such force he was surprised she didn’t snap her neck. “What?”

He held out the tools. “Thought you might like to cut on the rock a little bit.”

“I could ruin it. Then all your efforts would be for nothing.”

“I don’t think you’ll ruin it. You can chip a small piece off this corner that I haven’t touched yet.”

Her eyes lit up as she walked to the corner and examined the stone, running her fingers along the edge. “I’m probably not strong enough.”

“Won’t know unless you try.”

She wiped her hands on her skirt. “All right.” She started to draw the bandanna over her face.

“You don’t have to wear that. I don’t think you’ll create enough dust to bother us.” He handed her the tools.

“Oh, they’re heavier than I thought,” she said as she moved her hands up and down, testing their weight.

He placed his finger on the stone. “Hold the chisel in your left hand and put the blunt tip right here.” She did as he said. “Now you want to have a firm grip on the chisel because you don’t want it to go flying when you hit it.”

She nodded.

“Relax the arm holding the hammer. You want the hammer to do the work. And never take your eyes off the chisel.”

She slid her gaze to him. “Never?”

He didn’t realize how close he was standing to her until she turned her head. A man could drown in the blue pool of her eyes. He’d spent most of the night thinking about how soft and smooth her cheek felt. Her lips looked even softer.

“Never,” he said in a raspy voice. “You’ll get distracted and start thinking about things you shouldn’t.”

“Like what?” she asked.

It had been a mistake to tell her not to cover her face. Her face was a perfect oval, her eyes a perfect blue. Her lower lip was so full it gave the appearance she was pouting when she wasn’t. The tip of her tongue moistened her lips, and he wondered what it would feel like to have those glistening drops touch his own lips.

“You’ll wonder …"—he lowered his head slightly—"wonder if …” He brushed his lips lightly over hers.

She jerked her head back.

Clay straightened and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “I’m sorry. I’ll stand still if you want to slap me.”

“I don’t want to slap you, but I think I need to leave.”

He felt the trembling in her hands as she gave him the tools. “I don’t think my carving is such a good idea.”

She untied the bandanna from around her neck and dropped it on the chair before walking out of the shed. Clay fought against picking it up and tying it around his neck so he’d still have the scent of honeysuckle with him.

“What’d you do to make Miz Meg cry?” Josh asked.

Clay looked around the stone at the twins’ concerned faces. “Was she crying?”

“Not like she did that day when we had to comfort her, but her eyes was full of tears.”

“God damn it!” Clay slapped his hand against the granite and banged his forehead against the stone. The pain bellowing in his head wasn’t loud enough to drown out the pain cutting into his heart.

“What’d you do?”

“Kissed her.”

“Why the heck did you do a fool thing like that?”

Clay moved his head from side to side and felt the abrasive rock chafe his skin.

“You reckon she’ll come back?” Joe asked.

Clay heaved a deep sigh. “No.”

“Then who’s gonna make us smile?”

Clay squeezed his eyes shut. Who was going to give him a reason to anticipate the dawn?

The world encompassed her, quiet, warm, and silky. The sensual sensations gave Meg a freedom she hadn’t experienced in almost five years, but the freedom was fleeting, lost the moment she broke through the moon-glistened surface of the water.