The Longing (29 page)

It must have been the ale and the food that
brought on his drowsiness, but Kyle simply couldn’t keep his eyes
open any longer. With feigned nonchalance, he ambled to a quiet
area of the backyard and stretched out beneath a huge birch tree.
The shade and the light breeze made it the perfect spot for a nap.
Kyle closed his eyes and drifted, the sounds echoing through the
yard growing more distant with each slow breath he took.

The feeling of something wiggling on his
chest startled him out of a halfsleep and Kyle lowered his chin to
see what critter had mistaken him for a nest.

Cinnamon stared back at him.

Kyle tensed, waiting for the demon to sink
her claws into his chest, but to his utter shock, she sprawled
across his shirt and started to purr.

She was purring! She wasn’t swiping or
hissing or sinking her razor teeth into his fingers. She was
purring. God Almighty, there really were miracles.

“If you even
think
about trying
something while I’ve got my eyes closed, you’ll spend the rest of
your miserable life in the woodshed,” he warned.

Cinnamon blinked up at him as if she hadn’t a
care in the world.

Kyle snorted and closed his eyes. Damned
cat.

Rebecca giggled and Amelia put her finger to
her lips, grinning as she approached her sleeping husband. If he
woke up and found Cinnamon and Ginger curled up on his chest there
was no telling what he would do.

Slowly, stealthily, Amelia reached down to
lift the kittens off his chest.

“If they sink their miserable little claws
into me after they’ve spent the last half hour rattling my chest
with their damned purring, I’m giving them back to Rebecca.”

Amelia gasped and jerked her hands back,
making Rebecca giggle. “You scared the stuffing out of me, Kyle.
Why didn’t you tell me you were awake?”

He opened his eyes. They were filled with
warmth. “I was hoping you’d join me.”

“I will, Uncle Kyle!” Rebecca plopped her
small bottom beside him, then leaned over and laid her head on his
chest, her face only inches from the kittens. “Did you two take a
nice nap?” she asked, like a little mother.

Amelia laughed and joined them in the soft
summer grass, feeling more relaxed than she had in weeks. Even
Richard’s presence hadn’t disturbed her today. Other than a polite
greeting to her and the other women, he’d stayed with the men,
tossing horseshoes and drinking ale like the rest of their
friends.

Cinnamon stretched and yawned, her mouth
gaping open as her pink tongue curled. Kyle snorted and Amelia
smiled at him. She would never have imagined him like this, lazing
under a tree on a warm day with a little girl and frisky kittens
climbing all over him. How could she not love him?

“We should head home soon,” he said, and she
nodded.

It had been a wonderful, but long, day.
Everyone had been relaxed and grateful for a day of freedom from
their usual routine of worry and hard work. Even her mother and
Shorty had managed the day without killing each other. In fact,
their taunting had an edge of humor to it now, as if they both
secretly enjoyed their sparring. Jeb hadn’t interfered, but Amelia
knew he had stayed beside her mother in case she’d needed him.

Amelia’s gaze shifted back to Kyle. He’d
stood beside her, too, when she’d needed him to marry her. Though
he’d been disappointed when he learned the truth about her, he
hadn’t turned away from her as she’d thought he would. Instead,
he’d been honest about his involvement with her father’s death in
hopes of eliminating any remaining obstacles that would hinder them
from making their marriage work. She hadn’t done anything but
condemn him for his honesty.

Shame washed through her and Amelia lowered
her lashes. Kyle hadn’t even asked her to forgive him, as if what
he’d done was beyond forgiving. But it dawned on Amelia that it
wasn’t a matter of forgiving but one of understanding. Kyle and her
father had been friends. They’d respected and admired each other.
Her father and Kyle may have gotten upset with each other, but both
men had enjoyed competing and challenging one another to grow.
Amelia even remembered a couple of occasions at the lumberyard when
their faces had gotten red and their voices had been raised, but
neither Kyle nor her father had been angry. They were just two
stubborn men trying to make a point. More than likely that’s what
had happened the night of her father’s collapse. She was willing to
believe that it was misfortune rather than aggression that caused
her father’s death.

“What are you thinking about?” Kyle
asked.

Amelia met his eyes. “I’m thinking I need to
tell you that I forgive you.” Surprise lit his eyes and he glanced
at Rebecca, but Amelia knew their niece was preoccupied with the
kittens and was too young to understand their conversation. “I’m
sorry I hurt you,” she continued softly. “I should have tried to
understand instead of cast blame. I never meant to wound you, Kyle,
or deepen your regret. I’m sorry I did.”

Emotion filled his expression and he took
Amelia’s hand. “Let’s go home.”

o0o

Moonlight and shadows softened the contours
of Amelia’s face. Kyle knew he would never tire of looking at her.
She was different than he’d expected, stronger than he would have
surmised. He’d assumed she would be every bit the prissy schoolmarm
he’d once considered her, but Amelia was tough, intelligent, and
stubborn. She was also sensitive and forgiving.

There was an allure about Amelia that
constantly drew his gaze to her. She could just angle that proud
chin of hers and goad him into stepping out of his business boots
to try something ridiculous like paddling a rotted boat down the
gorge.

She burned with an inner energy that raced
through his body every time he touched her. It excited him, and
scared the hell out of him.

His need for her was too strong, his emotions
too out of control for his comfort. Healthy male need was one
thing. But a soul-deep craving was another thing altogether.

Lying beside her made him ache for her. It
had been so long since that day at the waterfall. He brushed the
hair off her face, longing to pull Amelia into his arms and love
her, but he wanted her to come to him willingly.

She sighed and turned her cheek into his
palm. Kyle drank in the vision of her serene face, the gentle arch
of her eyebrows, the sweep of her cheekbones. “I want you,” she
whispered.

Unable to stop himself, Kyle lowered his head
and brushed his mouth across her parted lips.

Moonlight slanted in the window, brushing her
face with pale light, turning her eyes into shimmering dark pools
that mesmerized him as she sat up and turned back the sheet. She
worked the gown over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her hair
spilled over her shoulders and swept around her rib cage like a
waterfall of autumn colors. Not daring to speak, knowing he
wouldn’t have the words to express how he felt, Kyle slipped his
fingers into the colored silk and pulled her mouth to his.

They sank back on the mattress and he kissed
her, softly at first, more passionately as the seconds turned into
minutes and their breathing mingled with the heartbeat pulsing in
his ears.

He moved his lips to her neck, her
collarbone, her breast. She whispered to him, telling him how
wonderful his kisses felt. He moved his mouth lower, over her ribs
and down to her hipbone, then to the place that made her gasp and
lift up on her elbows.

He reached up and cupped her breast with his
hand then lowered his mouth again. She moaned and fell back on the
pillows, lifting herself to accommodate his intimate caress.

As he listened to the rising pitch and tempo
of her moans, blinding heat surged through his body.

“Kyle!” she whispered, her voice urgent. He
covered her body with his own and she cupped his face with her
palms. “I love you,” she said, and Kyle’s world shifted. He had so
much to say, so much in his heart he wanted to give her, but he
didn’t have the words.

So he kissed her with a hunger that
overwhelmed them, their passion bursting into a reckless and
frenzied fire as Amelia cried out in the heat of their
lovemaking.

Kyle followed her, and for the first time in
his life, he let the moment own him.

Amelia
and her mother watched Kyle directing the crew, his eyes brimming
with enthusiasm as the men disassembled and dragged out the old
mill that had seized up for the last and final time. They had just
completed their shipment of deck beams to James Hale, and Kyle was
eager to get their new saw up and running before he negotiated the
next contract for beams.

The men began hauling in the new sawmill that
Kyle had ordered for the depot. It was still in the crate because
the depot crew had been too busy cutting railroad ties to build a
structure to house the saw in. Kyle said it made more sense to set
it up over here, so the men fashioned a sled with plank runners and
attached it to two heavy-muscled Percherons, whose sides heaved as
they pulled the crated mill inside.

Her mother hooked her arm around Amelia’s
waist as they watched in fascination. “I’m beginning to understand
why your father loved those men,” she said, watching them trail
alongside the sled with excited expressions.

Amelia did, too, and her new sense of
contentment with Kyle filled her with happiness. Although he rarely
expressed himself with words, she was learning how to read his
actions. To hear him talk about Cinnamon and Ginger one would think
he despised the kittens, but to see them sleep on his chest or
scamper after his bootlaces in the evenings when he played with
them told another story.

“Hold up!” Kyle yelled. “We’ve got a runner
board coming off on this side!”

“Whoa, boys. Easy now.” Jake stopped the
horses. Jeb and the crew crouched on the left side of the sled.
“It’ll rip off if we try to move it.”

Jeb slapped his thighs and stood. “Muscle up,
boys, and grab some pry bars. We’re going to lift the edge of this
sled.” When the men ran for the iron rods, Jeb turned to Amelia.
“We need Jake’s help in lifting this runner. Can you manage the
horses for him?”

Amelia glanced at Kyle, but he didn’t even
lift an eyebrow to stop her. “I’ll try,” she said, but her nerves
were crackling with tension when she moved forward to stand beside
the massive beasts.

“Victoria, we need someone to drive the board
back under the sled once we lift it. Can you swing a maul?”

“Of course,” she said, her eyes lighting up
as she moved to Jeb’s side. He grinned and Amelia saw her mother
and Jeb exchange a warm look of friendship. She suspected it would
deepen and become more someday, but surprisingly the idea didn’t
bother Amelia. As her mother’s heart healed and Jeb grew more
comfortable, they would naturally turn to each other. Her mother
would always love her father regardless of how many years passed.
But she was too young to live the rest of her life alone, and both
Jeb and her mother deserved to find happiness again.

The men came back with bars and a
twelve-pound hammer that her mother could barely lift. Amelia saw
Kyle’s lips tilt, but to her surprise, instead of taking over, he
stayed with the men. They squatted side by side, gripped the iron
handles of their pry bars and heaved until cords stood out in their
necks.

“Now,” Jeb grunted, his face red with the
exertion of lifting the edge of the sled three inches off the
ground.

Her mother rocked the maul like a pendulum
until she got enough momentum to swing, then she swatted at the
three-inch plank. She hit Jeb’s pry bar instead and nearly knocked
him over when it sprang loose from beneath the sled.

Kyle snorted and Amelia bit her lip when she
saw his shoulders shaking. He was really enjoying this! “Mama, why
don’t you hold the horses and I’ll do that.”

Her mother’s chin lifted and she took a
firmer grip on the wooden handle. “I can do it,” she said, staring
straight into Jeb’s eyes. She wound up again and swung with more
force, but missed everything altogether.

“I’m straining my gizzard down here,” Shorty
called from the middle of the sled. “Pretend it’s me you’re
swinging at.”

Her mother laughed then adjusted her grip on
the handled. The crew was still snorting when she hauled back and
put her petite body behind her swing. The maul hit the plank with a
crack that jolted the men and shoved the slab back under the sled.
Cheers filled the mill as they tossed aside their pry bars and
finished dragging the crate into the building.

Her mother followed along, asking a million
questions as they settled the mill in its final resting place. The
light in her mother’s eyes, and the warmth in her own heart, made
Amelia realize that she and her mother belonged here with this
ragged, boisterous bunch of men. And she belonged with Kyle.

When her mother headed to the mess hall to
cook their lunch, Amelia went to the office where she’d left the
kittens.

They hated being penned in their crate and
their loud mewls of protest let her know about it. She closed the
office door behind her, then set them free, but within minutes they
were crawling in and out of the desk drawer she’d set on the
floor.

Amelia heard the scratch of paper moving
across the floor and peeked behind her to see what the kittens were
doing.

Cinnamon swiped at the paper and Ginger
pounced on it. Hoping it wasn’t anything important, Amelia wrestled
it from beneath her little monsters and put it on the desk.

It was a letter from The Law Office in
Philadelphia. As Amelia began to read, she remembered that it was
the name of Richard’s old law business. A man named Samuel Klein
had sent the letter to her father, asking to talk to him about some
gaming counters Richard Cameron intended to redeem from him.