To Win Her Heart (22 page)

“Please, Levi?” she begged. “Please look at me.”

With a flick of his wrist, he flung the wood aside. Then, with measured deliberateness, he set the ax head on the ground and leaned the handle against the chopping stump. Only then did he turn.

Levi steeled himself as he bent to set the ax down. That voice. The voice from his dreams. It cut through him with bittersweet agony. Why had she come? She’d communicated her distaste quite clearly that morning. Yet here she was, pleading with him to look at her. Determined to hide his turmoil, he schooled his features into the stoic mask he’d perfected while in prison and slowly turned to face her.

“Would you care for a drink?” She held out a glass of water to him.

Levi stared at her. What was her game? And why did she have to look so pretty with her cheeks flushed and stray curls falling loose about her face?

He raised an eyebrow at her in question but made no move to take the glass from her. She bit her lip, straightened her shoulders, and took a step toward him.

“You’ve been working hard,” she said. Her gaze traveled from his face to his chest. The pink in her cheeks deepened, yet her eyes didn’t skitter away. “Take the water.”

A perverse part of him wanted to ignore her offering, to make things as uncomfortable for her as she’d made them for him, but his heart wouldn’t allow it. He took hold of the glass, careful not to let his fingers touch hers, and lifted it to his lips. He gulped down the contents in a single guzzle, not noticing whether the water was warm or cool, sweet or bitter. He just drank to get it done, then set it aside on the chopping stump.

Eden timidly sipped at her glass, then set it on the stump next to his. She had trouble meeting his eyes—her gaze kept straying to his torso. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one affected by the attraction that continued to hum between them despite the emotional distance that now pushed them apart.

But then, what good was attraction without love to lend it depth and meaning? Levi paced to the corral fence and grabbed his shirt. He poked his arms into the sleeves but only fastened a couple of buttons before crossing his arms over his chest.

“You didn’t come all the way out here to bring me water. What do you want?”

She flinched at his brusque tone. “I want to talk.”

Levi blew out an impatient breath. “I think you made your opinion clear already. Go home, Eden. And don’t worry. I won’t bother you anymore.” He unlaced his arms and turned away to pick up a new log.

“But I want you to bother me!”

What?

Eden lunged forward and seized his wrist. Too stunned to protest, he offered no resistance as she yanked him around to face her and pressed his back against the slatted fence. “You don’t have to say anything. Just listen, all right? When I’m finished, if you still want nothing to do with me, I’ll honor your wishes.”

His wishes? Wasn’t she the one who wanted nothing to do with him?

“Will you hear me out?”

How could he not with those green eyes pleading with him? Levi nodded, feeling as if he’d just exposed his wounds and handed her a bucket of salt.

She retreated a step, staring at the ground as she wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m ashamed of the way I’ve treated you the last few days, Levi.”

His heart gave an involuntary leap, but he quickly restrained it. Hope would only flay his wounds wider.

Eden’s chin lifted. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes shimmered, but he hardened himself. He leaned back against the fence, giving no visual clues to whether he accepted or rejected her apology, though he’d forgiven her in his heart before she ever walked up the road. His control was too threadbare. He couldn’t risk letting it slip completely. She’d told him he didn’t have to talk, and he’d never been happier to keep his trap shut.

The expectation that had lit Eden’s face dissipated at his continued silence, and a nearly imperceptible sigh slid from her lips. Then all at once, she dropped her hands to her sides and stiffened her spine.

“I was engaged to be married once,” she blurted.

The change of topic caught him so by surprise he forgot to guard his reaction.

She must have caught a glimpse of the fevered curiosity he struggled to tamp down, for she plunged ahead with her explanation.

“Over five years ago. Before I left Austin.” Roses bloomed in Eden’s cheeks again, and she glanced down, kicking at the stump with the toe of her shoe. “He worked for my father,” she said. “That’s how we met.”

Levi braced his elbows on the top fence rail and propped a bootheel on the lowest. Acting indifferent was killing him. The very idea of Eden married to another man tore at his gut. He’d suspected there was a beau in Eden’s past after Verna mentioned a fellow in Austin, but hearing that the two had planned to wed was torture. Another man holding her, touching her, kissing her . . .

“Stephen Hartshorn was handsome and refined and had a way about him that always put me at ease.”

Levi hated him already.

“He took me to the finest restaurants and escorted me about town in a fancy carriage that all my friends envied. Everyone gushed about how fortunate I was to have such an eligible gentleman paying court to me. And I believed them. I was young and fancied myself in love, so when Stephen proposed, I begged Father to accept on my behalf.

“Everything progressed like a dream after that. Mother hired a team of seamstresses to create a sophisticated wedding gown fashioned after the latest Paris styles. She sent invitations to all the political and social elite Austin had to offer and spent days finalizing the menu while Stephen escorted me to events and showed me off to his friends and family. I was caught up in a delightful whirlwind. I had no control over where we spun but was too happy with the ride to care.”

Eden gazed off toward the hills to the south, a rueful expression twisting her lips. “Stephen left a week before the wedding.”

His casual stance forgotten, Levi jerked away from the fence. “What do you mean, he left?”

She shrugged. “He received a better offer.”

A better offer? What could possibly entice a man to leave a gal like Eden? No better offer existed.

“From what my father told me later, he overheard Stephen bragging to some of his cohorts on the success of his coup. The eighteen months he’d invested in winning my hand was about to pay dividends. As Spencer’s son-in-law, he’d no doubt be named partner within the year.”

Levi angled his body back toward the corral and gripped the top rail in both hands, squeezing the wood so tightly, splinters dug into his palms. He wanted to hit something. Hard. Preferably something named Stephen Hartshorn, but he’d have to settle for strangling a fence rail instead.

“Unbeknownst to Mother or me, Father met with Stephen privately to determine for himself where the man’s heart resided. He gave Stephen a choice—he could marry me and continue on as a clerk in Father’s local land-development firm, or he could leave Austin a single man with a pocketful of earnest money to start his own business elsewhere. He chose the money. He didn’t even care enough to tell me good-bye.”

The wretch. Levi grimaced and forced himself to release the fence. As he slammed his back against the post and started pulling the splinters from his palms, he saw Eden reach for her water glass and take a drink. Her hand trembled slightly, as if the retelling of the tale had shaken her.

He wanted to go to her, comfort her. But before he could do more than lean forward, she set the glass down on the stump and cleared her throat. She finally looked him in the face, and the naked vulnerability in her eyes pinned him to the post.

“Stephen wasn’t the man I thought him to be.”

The quiet statement hit him like an uppercut to the chin. “I’m not either, am I?”

No wonder she’d pushed him away. To her, he was no better than that Hartshorn fellow.

“When I came to Spencer, I left all hope of marriage behind,” she said, neatly avoiding his question. “I made peace with being a spinster and found purpose in operating the library and reaching out to the town’s children. Then you came along and stirred feelings inside me I was afraid to explore.”

Levi’s heart thumped an uneven rhythm, and he couldn’t seem to take in a full breath.

“As I came to know you better,” Eden continued, “I started to believe that you represented everything I’d ever wanted—a man of faith who held fast to his convictions, a man of peace who despised violence as much as I did, a man who loved literature and could expound on philosophical ideas, a man with a tender heart who would go out of his way to help the unfortunate.”

Eden stepped closer, and suddenly Levi was the one trembling.

“I put you on a pedestal. And when I read that letter, my image of you tumbled from its perch and shattered. How could I love a prizefighter, a felon, a man who had taken the life of another?”

“You couldn’t.” The words choked him, nearly tearing a hole in his throat.

“That’s what I told myself. But I was wrong, Levi.” She took another step and touched his arm. His bicep jumped at the feel of her fingers through the thin cotton of his sleeve, while his pulse jumped at the impact of her words. She was
wrong
?

“I’ve been hardhearted and selfish these last few days.” Her lashes lowered over her eyes, as if she was too ashamed to hold his gaze. “You’ve been nothing but honest, honorable, and kind, yet I lashed out in the most hurtful ways.”

Finally those lashes lifted to reveal shimmering pools of green. “God reminded me today that you are no longer the man you described in that letter. You are a man redeemed. I came here to beg your forgiveness.”

She inhaled a tremulous breath, and he found himself holding his.

“I’m so sorry, Levi. So, so sorry.” Her voice closed up and tears streamed down her cheeks.

Levi couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her. His heart was too full. He clasped her face between both of his hands and tilted her head up to meet his kiss. His lips descended on hers. As if a dam had burst, all the feelings he’d worked so hard to restrain suddenly burst forth. He’d thought her lost to him, but here she stood, clutching his arm and returning his kiss with a sweetness he’d only dreamed existed. Levi stroked her damp cheeks with his thumbs and burrowed his fingers into the hair at her nape. He angled his face to deepen their connection, and when Eden made a tiny mewling noise in the back of her throat, exultation coursed through his veins.

She leaned into him. His left hand relinquished the softness of her face to caress her back and draw her closer to his heart. Her fingers twined in the short curls at his neck. He swallowed a moan as delicious shivers scampered over his skin. Kissing Eden was like tasting a miracle. He never wanted it to end.

Good sense and an increasingly adamant conscience prevailed, however. Levi gently pulled away, pressing his lips to her eyelids and forehead before completely letting go. He watched her breathe, her mouth slightly swollen. And when her lashes lifted, her dewy eyes looked up at him in a daze that filled him with masculine satisfaction.

A small sigh passed her lips. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

Laughter burst from Levi’s chest, and he tugged Eden back into his embrace, holding her close as giggles claimed her, as well. Loving this woman was either going to kill him or make his life richer than he’d ever imagined.

The following morning, while adding the finishing touches to her pressed flower design, Eden hummed a Stephen Foster tune about a cheery maiden frolicking in the fields. For the first time in days, the sight of the wedding bouquet brought a smile to her heart instead of a pang of bitterness.

Levi had forgiven her. Not only that, he had kissed her—kissed her like a man kisses a woman he intends to wed. At least she assumed that’s how a man with strong feelings kissed. The only other man who had ever put his lips to hers was the one who’d jilted her, and while he’d initially had marrying intentions, his brief pecks had been too tame to stir more than a tepid reaction from her. Levi’s kiss, on the other hand, had stolen her breath and set her heart to palpitating at such a rate she’d feared she’d succumb to a fit of the vapors. Thankfully, she’d remained conscious and blissfully aware of every delicious second of Levi’s embrace.

Eden’s cheeks grew warm at the memory, and she fanned herself with her hand. His lips had felt so wonderful against hers, soft and tender; yet they’d moved with an urgency that had her pulse fluttering more erratically than an autumn leaf caught in a whirlwind. And when she’d finally worked up the nerve to bury her fingers in those thick curls of his? Ah. Perfect was too poor a word to describe it.

Realizing she had stopped humming while her mind wandered, Eden cleared her throat and started the song again as she refocused on the task before her. Her toe tapped out the melody’s jaunty beat while she applied a layer of glue across the gathered stems and pressed a strip of pink ribbon onto the surface. Eden held it in place, and while it dried, her humming gave way to singing.

“Fairy-Belle, gentle Fairy-Belle,

The star of the night and the lily of the day.

Fairy-Belle, the queen of all the dell,

Long may she revel on her bright sunny way.”

Chloe danced into the room, dustcloth in hand, and joined in on the last line of the chorus. Embarrassed, Eden bit her lip and immediately stopped singing.

Chloe, however, moved right into the second verse without a hint of reticence.

“ ‘She sings to the meadows and she carols to the streams. . . .’ Come on, Miss Eden. Sing with me.”

Wrestling her self-consciousness, Eden tentatively added her voice to Chloe’s squeaky yet enthusiastic soprano, unable to contain her grin when the girl twirled around on her toes, belling her skirt out around her ankles.

“She laughs in the sunlight and smiles while in her dreams,

Her hair like the thistledown is borne upon the air,

And her heart like the hummingbird’s is free from ev’ry care.”

Chloe tossed aside her cloth and grabbed Eden by the hands as they plunged back into the chorus. They giggled and danced and spun in circles until they were too winded to sing another note. They collapsed onto the rug and leaned against each other for support, struggling to catch their breath between residual bouts of laughter.

The kitchen door creaked, and Verna stuck her head into the room. “Harvey,” she called over her shoulder, “bring me a broom. A couple of magpies got loose in the library.”

Eden looked at Chloe and the two dissolved into another fit of giggles.

Verna left the kitchen doorway and strolled over to Eden, offering her a hand up. “At least the magpies chased away the gloom that’s been hanging over this place the last few days.”

She smiled and gave Eden’s hand an affectionate pat before turning to help Chloe. The girl bounded to her feet unassisted and reclaimed her dustcloth, turning her attention to the bookshelves lining the outer wall.

“So, you and that handsome blacksmith work out your differences?”

Eden bit her lip at the older woman’s knowing look, but she grinned and nodded, too happy to hide her pleasure.

“Well, it’s about time. Poor fella looked like I done shot his dog every time you had me send him away. I was about ready to retire from door answerin’ altogether.”

Eden reached an arm around the housekeeper’s shoulders and gave her a firm squeeze. “I appreciate your putting up with me, Verna. I know it was a trial.”

“Bah.” The woman brushed away the words with a swipe of her hand like so much dust. “ ’Tweren’t no hardship. You were hurting. Harvey and me, we can handle a little moping from you, just so long as it don’t become a habit.”

“You have my word.” Eden laid a hand over her heart, and Verna winked.

“So I guess this means I can put the
Open
sign in the window?” Verna pulled away from Eden and wandered toward the hall.

“Is it time already?” Amazing how much faster the morning passed when her heart was light.

Verna nodded. “Fixin’ to be. I’ll go unlock the door and put out the sign.”

A little tickle started in the pit of Eden’s stomach after Verna left the room. Would Levi visit today? When he did, he usually came early. He could be on his way to see her right now. Eden pressed a hand to her quivering stomach and quickly set about straightening her desk. She carefully packed away her unused pressed flowers and scraps of ribbon and lace before placing the nearly completed picture into a hatbox for storage. A bow still needed to be added to the ribbon she’d placed today along with a few tiny blossoms near the bottom, but soon the bouquet would be ready for framing. She’d ordered a pretty oval one, finished in white and gilt with a shell-patterned molding.

Bittersweet sensations tugged at her as she placed the lid over her creation. It was too bad she’d committed it to the spring auction. She’d become more attached to this piece than any of her others. Every time she looked at it, she thought of Levi—the way he’d suggested the design, the memory of him holding her in the field where she’d collected the blossoms, the way his kiss made her think of weddings and bouquets and blacksmith husbands.

“Eden?” Masculine tones echoed behind her.

She spun around. “Levi!” Why could she think of nothing more intelligent to say?

“Found him out on the porch,” Verna said with a pointed look at Eden as she strode past the desk. “Guess he was afraid to try knockin’.”

The housekeeper chuckled quietly as she shooed Chloe out of the reading room to allow Eden some privacy with her beau, although she made a point to leave the kitchen door open for propriety’s sake. Eden craned her neck, focusing solely on Verna’s back until the woman disappeared around the corner.

Eden summoned a wobbly smile as she turned to face Levi again. He looked so handsome standing there, holding his hat in front of him, his wavy hair curling at the ends, where it was still damp from his wash. He looked from her face to the ceiling, and his mouth twitched as if he intended to say something, but no words came. She tried to come up with some innocuous tidbit of conversation to make things easier on him. Nothing. It was as if every social grace in her possession had taken flight.

Biting back a moan, Eden dropped her attention to her desk and fiddled with the handle on her hatbox. Levi’s feet shuffled as he shifted his weight a couple times. Apparently neither of them was capable of breaking the stretching silence.

Where had this awkwardness between them originated? Her insides felt more tangled than the yarn in her scrap basket.

Levi finally cleared his throat. “I . . . uh . . . brought you . . .”

Lifting her chin, Eden met his eyes. Unable to finish his sentence, Levi shrugged and pulled his hand out from behind his hat. Clutched gently between his large workman’s fingers were two delicate clusters of tiny purple flowers.

“Prairie verbena. These are lovely.” She reached out to accept the gift, her smile no longer wobbling. As he loosened his grip on the stems, Eden slid her hand beneath his, loving the way his palm caressed the back of her hand with a light touch. Pleasant shivers danced up her arms as she slowly pulled away.

The leafy wildflowers didn’t have much scent, so instead of lifting them to her nose, she stroked the petals with her fingertip. Most men would have pilfered some of the new rosebuds blooming on her bushes, but not Levi. He knew her partiality for wildflowers.

“Thank you. They’re so bright and cheerful. And these press very well.” Now she was babbling. But her mind was already making plans for how to preserve Levi’s gift.

“I thought I remembered you . . . working with that kind of flower. Found . . . a bunch out behind the water trough near the livery corral. Hoped you might like them.”

Eden held them up to her cheek, enjoying the softness of the petals against her skin. “I like them very much.”

Levi stepped closer. “I’m glad.” The intensity of his gaze held her captive until a dropped pan clanging in the kitchen jarred her free.

“Do you mind if I run upstairs and grab my field press?” Eden took a step back, inserting some distance between them to aid her concentration. “I’d like to preserve your flowers, but the color will fade if I don’t press them while they’re fresh. We can talk at my desk while I work, if you like.”

Levi nodded. “I’ll . . . uh . . . hang up my hat.” He waved it at her as if shooing her up the stairs, then turned toward the hall.

Not wanting to miss a moment of whatever time they’d have alone together, Eden laid the verbena on the desktop and hustled to her room. She tucked the press under her arm, dug out a box of blotting paper from her trunk, and dashed back down to the reading room, where Levi stood perusing the fiction shelves.

He looked up as she entered and strode to her side, relieving her of the box and press. “Where do you want them?”

“Over on the desk, please.” She led the way, plucking up the verbena stems to give him more space. “Would you like to help?”

Levi set the materials down and looked her way, his brows slightly raised.

Of course he wouldn’t want to help. What a fool thing to suggest. Eden busied herself with opening the box and removing several sheets of blotting paper, willing herself not to blush. The man pounded iron all day. He was an ex-prizefighter, for pity’s sake, not a slender-fingered dandy with lace at his cuffs. What had she been thinking?

“Forget I said that,” she said, keeping her eyes on the desk. “I’m sure you have no desire to play with petals. It’s not exactly a masculine pursuit.” Her hands fluttered over the book strap she used to hold her press together, but the buckle refused to unfasten. The leather eluded her, as if someone had greased it with cooking lard.

Levi’s palm settled over her fingers, forcing them to still. Slowly, Eden raised her face to his.

“I’ll help.” His lips curved, silently teasing her in a way that eased her embarrassment and made her want to laugh.

Grinning, Eden tugged her hands out from under Levi’s palm and tilted her head in the direction of the far wall. “Why don’t you bring your chair over here while I set the press up? Then I’ll show you how it works.”

As soon as Levi moved away, Eden’s capability returned and she found a way to unbuckle the strap without further difficulty. She opened the flower press like a book and set the top board on the floor, leaning it against the leg of the desk. Then she reached for the six or so pieces of blotting paper she’d laid aside earlier, glancing at Levi while she did so.

That was a mistake.

The paper shifted between her inattentive fingers as she watched her blacksmith lift the heavy leather wing chair before him as if it were made of nothing denser than
papier-mâché
. What would it feel like to have him pick
her
up? To carry her with those robust arms, toting her over a . . . a threshold, perhaps, as they entered their home for the first time as husband and wife. With his superior strength, would he set her down inside the door, or keep his hold on her, nestling her against that broad chest of his as he made his way to other rooms of the house?

Eden slammed the door on that thought before it led her into intimate territory and turned her attention back to pressing the verbena. She managed to get her paper properly stacked atop the bottom board by the time Levi returned with the chair.

“The blotting paper absorbs the moisture from the flowers as they dry, so we’ll lay the blooms flat on the page and add another stack of paper on top. We should be able to get all of these in a single layer.”

Levi nodded, his expression intent, as if pressing flowers was a skill he truly intended to learn. Perhaps he only acted interested because they were courting, but it seemed deeper than that. His focused attention conveyed respect—since pressing flowers was important to her, it was now important to him, as well. Eden couldn’t help thinking of the curly-haired daughter he might have one day, and the daddy who would sip imaginary tea with her from a child-sized cup he’d barely be able to grasp with his thick fingers.

“How much of the flower do you want?” Levi’s question brought Eden back on task.

“We can’t press the entire cluster. Each blossom will have to be removed individually. Just pinch the bloom off where it meets the stem and lay it on the paper.” She demonstrated the procedure, then helped him with his first couple of attempts. His hands were large, but his fingers were amazingly adept. Soon they had the paper nearly covered with the small purple wildflowers. She added a few strips of the more interestingly shaped leaves around the edges, then covered their work with six more sheets of blotter paper and carefully lowered the top board into place.