Texas Angel, 2-in-1 (46 page)

He marveled at how his love for her had grown, washing over him like gentle waves flowing over the seashore. All doubts about it were gone, all fear that it could not be right. Only God was capable of sowing such love. And just so, God had given him Elise. He didn’t even stop to wonder if she loved him in return. He merely remembered the expression on her face when he had kissed her in the barn and knew it could only be love, for Elise was capable of nothing else.

Elise awoke to crisp sunlight flooding through the window. Her first thought was that it must be morning. At her request, Benjamin had placed the window in the east wall of her room, where it looked out on a pretty little hill dotted with trees and lovely wild flowers in spring.

Then she moved, felt the pain in her back, and darker images flooded into her thoughts. She remembered Maurice Thomson and the terrible things he had done to her. But she was home now. She must be safe. Benjamin had come for her. She remembered something else, but it was so vague it seemed more a dream than reality.

“
I love you, Elise
.” It had been Benjamin’s strong baritone that had uttered the words, or had she just imagined it?

Oh, if only it were true! She smiled, her face scrunched into her pillow. She could not roll over and knew instinctively she should not even attempt to rise from the bed, though she was anxious to see everyone. Where were they? How long had she been lying here? What would she say to Benjamin?

A little shiver ran through her as she thought of his dear face, the turquoise eyes dancing with intensity, the smile tentative but warm and caring. His arms so strong they would feel the closest thing to heaven wrapped protectively around her. Oh, Benjamin! Please let it not be a dream. Let it really be true that you said those words I most—

Suddenly, with a sharp, stabbing pain as if a cruel hand had scraped across her wounds, she remembered other awful images from her captivity. Shaking her head, she pressed her face deeper into her pillow, willing it to blot them out. How she wanted to forget! But she could not. She had been spared the worst abuse by her captors—Benjamin might have forgiven that as he had forgiven and looked past her old life. He would understand that she had chosen to survive, if indeed he loved her.

But how far could a man’s forgiveness be tested? He’d forgiven so much already. It would be asking too much to expect him to overlook her greatest mistake—no,
deception
would be more correct, and he could not be blamed for considering it so.

As she agonized over what Maurice had told her about Kendell, she wondered if the truth had to come out. Did Benjamin know? Why put him through more torture if he didn’t?

Oh, Elise, you are evil indeed! Longing for love on one hand, but in the same instant plotting even more deception. With clenched insides, she knew she had to tell him. However, a moment later when her door opened and she heard his heavy footstep, her courage fled.

He stepped close to the bed and laid a hand, so warm and secure, on her head. She tilted her head and opened her eyes.

“You . . . are awake?” He breathed the words as if he dare not believe them.

“Yes. How long has it been?”

“Ten days.” He pulled the chair close to the bed and sat. “We feared you might die, but you—” his voice caught, and moisture filled his eyes. “I have you back,” he said quietly. “Elise, I want to tell you something. . . .”

“First I must tell you—”

“Please, let me say this. I have feared for days now that I would never have the chance. Now that I have my opportunity, I don’t want to lose it. Elise, I love you!” He bent down and kissed her forehead. “You are so cool now. There were times when the fever raged that I thought my lips would burn when they touched you.”

“Then . . . I wasn’t dreaming? They were really your kisses?” And she tried to convince herself again of the stupidity of spoiling what they had finally found. “I love you, too, Benjamin.”

“It would have been a fine mess if you didn’t!” His voice was so cheerful, so light. Why ruin it?

“A mess . . .” she mused almost to herself.

“I better not tire you.” He started to rise.

She grasped his hand. “I would never tire of you! Please don’t leave. Not yet.”

She told herself it wasn’t the proper time to tell him. Benjamin looked so pale and worn. He’d obviously spent himself caring for her. She decided to wait until they were both stronger. They had been through so much. Why not enjoy each other for just a while longer?

Maybe it would be easier later.

CHAPTER

54

I
F ANYTHING, IT BECAME MORE DIFFICULT.

When Elise learned the details of the rescue, that Benjamin had been party to the deaths of two men in order to save her, she despaired of telling him the truth. She even became so desperate as to convince herself that what Maurice had said might have been a lie to taunt her.

Though physically she grew strong, emotionally she disintegrated as the deception ate away at her. Benjamin suspected nothing, thinking her melancholy was simply due to her illness. She let him think that. What was one more deception?

In two weeks she had returned to most of her household duties. Everyone helped out because she tired easily, but she was determined to return to her previous worth. Maybe if she made herself indispensable again, she might continue to hang on to her home and her life. Now that Maurice was dead, it was possible her secret could die with him.

But that thin hope fell apart one autumn day. It was the beginning of October and as warm as a summer day. Benjamin was in the yard chopping wood. He had shed his shirt, but sweat still ran in rivulets down his shoulders and back. His pale hair lay plastered to his head.

Elise brought him a jug of water.

“You didn’t have to,” he said as he impaled the ax into his chopping block and straightened. “You’re barely on your feet. I surely don’t expect you to wait on me.”

“I want to, Benjamin.” She offered a smile and held out the jug.

Their touching this way, then, was a rare contact, and it sent a thrill through her and made her heart trip as if he had kissed her. She did not pull away, though she knew she should.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling. He, too, was aware of the energy caused by the touch. “Elise . . .”

“You best have a drink before you expire,” she said as lightly and casually as she could muster.

He obeyed, taking a long swallow of water, then pouring some over his head. “Ah, that feels good.”

“You’ve got quite a bit of wood cut,” she observed.

“Yes, but not nearly enough for winter. I’ll have to leave off with the cutting today because John is coming tomorrow to help me harvest the corn. Micah and I could manage on our own if we had an idea of what to do. I thought I could figure it out with my book, but that is turning out to be a joke.”

“Thank God for a good friend like John.”

“And a friend who knows much. I have never met a man so accomplished in practical matters.” He paused to take another pull from the

“You will get there, Benjamin. John didn’t learn everything in a day, or even a year.”

“But he wasn’t thirty-five when he started!” He laughed. “I am learning the patience of Job.”

“I will let you get back to your work.” She turned to go, but he laid a hand on her arm.

“Elise, I’ve been doing some thinking while I work—that is the beauty of physical labor.” He paused. “Would you sit for a minute?”

“Well, I . . .”

“Please.”

She could not refuse him. He turned up a couple stumps he had yet to chop and shoved them close, then gestured her to take one. They sat quietly for a long time. Elise knew no light subject was about to be broached. A fleeting stab of fear made her wonder if Maurice had shared his secret with Benjamin. How would she know? She had been senseless during much of the rescue. But it wasn’t possible—Benjamin would not have remained quiet about it this long. Would he?

Her dread building with this thinking, she was more shocked than ever at what was on Benjamin’s mind.

“I’ve been thinking that . . . well, perhaps the time is right for us to begin living together as husband and wife.” He had been looking somewhere over her left shoulder, but suddenly his gaze shifted, and his eyes met hers. The blue intensity made her throat constrict. How she loved him! How she had longed for this moment. Yet how she now dreaded it.

“I . . . I . . .” Words caught in her throat. The walls of her heart felt squeezed, as if a fist had violently grasped it. Lies and deceptions faded on her lips. It was no use. There might have been an excuse for it when she had not loved him. But now . . . two people in love did not deceive each other. Still, the truth felt like gall in her soul, bitter and rancid.

“What is it, Elise?” he asked tenderly.

It would have been easy then to plead illness and flee. But to where would she run? All she wanted, all she needed and cared about was here before her, wrapped up in this man who loved her, who wanted to share his entire being with her. Who, in spite of that, perhaps even
because
of that, would be repulsed by the truth.

The words spilled from her lips. “Benjamin, I lied to you. I deceived you! I didn’t mean to. When Maurice took me he . . . he—”

“Is that what has been troubling you?” he asked, still no rebuke, only loving acceptance in his voice. “I feared such might have happened, but, Elise, I am glad you chose to live. When I was searching for you, I remembered what you said about dying before returning to that life, and I prayed you would do all you had to do to survive. I can accept the other, but it would have killed me had you died. Please don’t let it bother you!”

“If only that was all!” Tears filled her eyes. “You’ve forgiven so much, but this—oh, it’s just like with Kendell. I didn’t mean to deceive him either, but my father told me on my wedding day! What was I to do? I was afraid of losing him, and I am so much more afraid of losing you. But you must believe me, Benjamin, I didn’t know!”

“What didn’t you know?” There was an edge now to his voice, as her words were starting to register but obviously in jumbled confusion.

She took a breath. The least she could do was to present her personal indictment rationally. “I was married before.” She could not look at him but rather stared at her hands. However, her gaze saw only the ring he had given her on their wedding day. She had wrapped yarn around it so it would fit. Now it glared back at her accusingly. “Did you never wonder about Hannah’s father?”

“I thought—”

She interrupted, not able to bear hearing his voice just then. “Oh yes, of course, the product of my occupation. But no, I let you think that rather than tell you the truth. I feared if you knew I’d been married before . . . well, I thought you could accept the other because you knew I had been forced into it, but marriage was a different matter. I know religious people who don’t accept divorce or even annulment as legal, no matter what the law says. I didn’t know what you would think, and ours was only a business arrangement. Had there been love, I would have told you. I never thought we would . . . oh, Benjamin, how was I to guess we would come to love each other?”

“So you were married before. . . .”

She could almost see his mind work, making allowances, gauging how much more he could indeed forgive. That made her next words nearly impossible to utter. “There’s more.”

“I was afraid of that.” He nodded for her to continue. His countenance was impassive, hard like the ax blade impaled in the stump close to where he sat.

“When Maurry captured me, he told me he had heard the annulment of my marriage had never been formalized. He said my husband had become demented and refused to sign the papers. Believe me, Benjamin, when I say I truly believed the marriage had been annulled.” She could have laughed at her words “believe me.” How would he ever believe her again?

Benjamin was silent for a long time. She began to wonder what it would be like if he never spoke to her again. She was already beginning to feel like the vast wasteland she’d heard occupied the western half of Texas. Dry, empty, barren.

“What happened with your other marriage?” he asked methodically, like a lawyer interrogating a witness.

“He found out about my Negro blood.” Shaking her head, she covered her tearstained face with her hands. “I deceived him, too. My father told me on my wedding day that my mother was an escaped slave, a quadroon. What was I to do? Why did Papa do that to me? He said his conscience was bothering him, but he would leave it to my discretion whether to tell my groom. I couldn’t tell him. I let myself think the secret would be safe. It was safe for about a year. Then Kendell’s father, William Hearne found out. The family disowned me, and Kendell . . . he just did not have the fortitude to face life as an outcast. I was every kind of fool possible. Because of my weakness I lost him, and now I will lose you.”

“Did you love him?”

Was he trying to torture himself and her as well? But he had every right to know. It was only natural that he ask.

“Yes,” she said. The time for lies was over. “But you must not think I could still love him after what he did. He turned away from me and his own daughter. He let me become a slave. Because of him, because he did not love me enough, I ended up with Maurice Thomson, losing my honor, my virtue, nearly my soul.” She lifted her head and made herself look into the icy pool of Benjamin’s eyes. “You gave me my life back, Benjamin, but that’s not why I love you. I love you because you are a man who knows how to love enough.”

For the first time, his stoic façade cracked. He snorted a dry laugh. “You can say that after Rebekah? After Micah? Perhaps you only hope I can love enough. I fear I might be just as weak as this Kendell of yours.” He closed his eyes. “I fear you are asking too much.”

“Benjamin, I only ask—”

“Don’t ask any more of me!” He burst out angrily.

He lurched to his feet and started to walk away. His shoulders were hunched like mountains, and she feared they were unscalable mountains. She could do nothing but let him walk away. Then he paused but did not turn.