by Bree Wolf
His mouth opened as though he was about to answer, but then reconsidered. His gaze narrowed, and a touch of suspicion came to his eyes as though he had just realised the reason behind her questions and refused to take the bait. “It would not be the same.”
Annoyed, Meagan crossed her arms before her chest. “Ye keep saying that. Still, it makes as little sense as it did the first time ye did.”
Gritting his teeth, he took a step toward her, his gaze holding hers; and in that moment, Meagan knew without the shadow of a doubt that they were nearing the true reason for the tortured look in his eyes. “Because mine is a punishment,” he growled, disgust clear in his voice as he glanced down at the offending limb.
“Punishment?” Meagan frowned. “What do ye mean?”
Sighing, he chose his words. “I did not simply mean my leg, but everything that happened since the day I left.”
Although Meagan could see that the words he spoke pained him, there was also a touch of relief in his gaze as though he felt liberated to be able to speak his mind after such a long time.
“I was injured,” he continued, his gaze distant, seeing images of the past, “and then left for dead.” He blinked, and his gaze met hers once more. “I was declared dead. For all intents and purposes, I was.”
“It was a mistake,” Meagan objected, feeling goose bumps crawl up her arms at the resigned tone in her husband’s voice.
“Was it?” he demanded. “Or was it a sign?”
“A sign for what?”
He licked his lips and swallowed as though seeking to prolong the inevitable. “That I was meant to die.” Again, he swallowed, and regret filled his eyes. “Maybe the world would be a better place without me. Maybe I should have died on that field.”
Staring at her husband, Meagan felt a cold shiver grab her body as she realised the depth of his torment. “How can ye think that?” Taking a deep breath, she placed a gentle hand on his arm, ignoring the way his muscles jerked as though trying to put some distance between them. “And even if ye think it a sign, why do ye believe ye were meant to die? Maybe ye were meant to live. Ye survived the impossible. Is that not even more reason to believe into a second chance?”
“I wish I could,” he whispered, an almost desperate need to believe her in his voice. “But I know I do not deserve it.” As his lips pressed into a thin line, he nodded his head. “’Tis a punishment. A well-deserved one.”
“A punishment for what? What did ye do that would justify such a punishment?”
Lifting his gaze, he met her eyes, his own narrowed in confusion. “Why would ye ask me this? You of all people know.”
Sighing in exasperation, Meagan felt her gaze harden. “Would ye quit speaking in riddles? If ye haven’t noticed, today has been…a day like no other. I do not care for this guessing game. Now, tell me, what ye believe this punishment to be for.”
“For leaving ye!” he snapped back at her, his eyes closing as the full weight of his words sank in. “For not appreciating what I had. For recklessly risking my family, my home, my life…with ye and the children.” Swallowing, he opened his eyes and met hers. “And for what? For the distant notion of glory and adventure? Today, I cannot believe the fool I have been. And yet, it does not change what was, what I did. I sacrificed ye, and now I have no right to reclaim ye.” As his gaze searched her face, his brows drew down. “Are ye not angry at me for that?”
***
Watching the emotions play over her beautiful face−from determination to annoyance to utter shock−Edward could barely keep his wits about him. His body hummed with her closeness as his eyes traced the gentle curve of her neck, the line of her lips and lingered on the blazing fire in her ocean blue gaze. Her golden curls were in disarray, and her cheeks slightly flushed, and his fingers yearned to feel her skin against his own once more.
He should never have come. Never had he been able to resist her. She was the embodiment of all his hopes and dreams. She had always been. And despite everything that had changed, that was the one thing that had remained constant.
“Yes, I am angry with ye.”
Jerked out of his musings, Edward stared at her, his heart aching from the sting of her words. Swallowing, he nodded, “Ye’ve every right to−”
“Let me finish!” she interrupted, the look in her eyes dangerous as she stepped toward him, her right hand lifted in accusation as she jabbed a finger into his chest again and again, emphasising the anger she spoke of. “Ye left us, and, yes, I was angry with ye. Maybe I still am. What ye did was foolish and rash, the actions of a dreamer.” She sighed. “And yet, I let ye go. Some mistakes need to be made. Some things cannot be learnt from another’s experience. Some things have to be felt and suffered and endured.” She swallowed, and her eyes softened as her fingers curled into the front of his shirt. “Ye needed to know, or ye would have been forever left wondering. ‘Twasn’t your fault for wanting…more. The heart wants what it wants. Do ye blame me for letting ye go? For not fighting for ye to stay?”
Yet again, Edward found himself staring at his wife, at the kindness and compassion in her eyes. He heard honest understanding and utter willingness to forgive and forget in her voice, and he felt the lightness of her touch, gentle and yet demanding. And he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt what she was offering.
“Stay,” she whispered, a quiet plea, as her eyes filled with tears. “We are a family. That never changed. Ye’re the father of my children. Ye’re my husband.” She inhaled deeply, and her body moved into his, pulling him closer against her. “I want ye back.”
Traitorously, the muscles in his arms itched with the need to reach for her, to accept what she offered and ignore the weight of his conscience. Her lips beckoned him into a kiss, and her words brought back memories of happier times.
Feeling his defences crumble into dust, Edward took a step back and his hands removed her hold on him. He did not dare look at her, meet her eyes, for he knew it would break his heart. Although he wanted her as much as ever before, he could not give in.
Not now.
Not again.
“If ye don’t wish to stay,” Meagan asked, her voice choked with tears, “then where will ye go?”
Edward swallowed. He could not tell her.
“Will ye find a new home in another village and start anew? Will ye live a separate life away from us?” With each word, anger returned to her voice. “Will ye start a new family?”
Unwilling to leave her in the agony of her suspicions, Edward swallowed, “I do not mean to live anywhere.” He dropped his gaze and stepped around her. “I told ye I was meant to die on the continent. That has not changed.”
For a long moment, everything remained quiet, and Edward did not dare turn around to look at her.
Then he heard the rustle of her skirts, and a second later, she stepped in front of him, her eyes round, searching his face. “Do ye truly mean to kill yourself?”
Edward drew in a slow breath.
Fresh tears brimmed in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “If that was your intention, why did ye come? Why did ye not take your own life before coming back here? Before revealing yourself to us?” An angry snarl came to her lips. “Why did ye come?”
Gritting his teeth, Edward felt his grip on his cane tightening. “I told ye why I came,” he snapped, inhaling the fresh scent of her soft skin…so close. Too close. “I would ask that ye stop trying to persuade me to stay. I’ve made up my mind and I will not−”
“How dare ye!”
Meeting her gaze, her eyes wild and unwavering, Edward felt his hands clench as he struggled with the contrasting emotions surging through him. “For once, I want to do what is best, what is reasonable, what is responsible. If I follow my heart, it will only lead me to ruin as it has before. I must do what is right, not what I want.”
“What ye want?” his wife whispered, the look on her face not one of anger any longer. “What is it that ye want? What lives in your heart?”
Realisi
ng his mistake, Edward tried to back away. “I should leave.”
“But that is not what ye want, is it?” Meagan demanded, the look in her eyes saying that she knew well the temptation he was battling. Holding his gaze, she placed her hands on his chest once more, and a soft smile curled up her lips at his sudden intake of air. “What ye want is what I want as well.”
Fear gripped Edward’s heart. “But−”
“Ye owe me one night,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his ever so slightly.
Taken aback, Edward almost lost his footing as his cane clattered to the floor for the second time that night. Instantly, his arms came around her, holding her closer. For balance, he told himself, and yet, deep down, he knew it to be a lie.
Inhaling deeply, her eyes sobered. “Ye’re free to choose,” she told him, her voice heavy with regret. “I will not take that from ye. No matter what happens between us tonight, if ye wish to leave in the mornin’, I will not stop ye…even though it’ll break my heart all over again.”
Edward felt his own eyes fill with tears as he looked down at her, her body resting gently against his. They fit together. They always had.
“I want one night.” Lifting her head, she met his eyes, and her arms came around his neck. “I demand it. Ye owe me a night free of the past and the future, free of doubt and regret. I’ve dreamt of ye so often, and now ye’re here. Right here in my arms.” Tears spilled over as she smiled at him. “And now, I cannot let ye go without feeling your touch once more. I’ve dreamt of it countless times, and it was never enough.”
Edward swallowed, knowing exactly what she meant.
Feeling his resolve waver and then disappear, he tightened his hold on her, noting the relieved curl of her lips as she pulled him down to her. Then her mouth claimed his, and the chains of the past fell from him. Time lost all meaning as her warmth surrounded him, gently putting his mind at ease and soothing the ache in his bones.
Sometime in the night, Edward caught a glimpse of the man he once had been.
A man he had thought lost long ago.
And for a moment, he could not remember a single reason why on earth he would leave his wife.
Was it madness?
Chapter Twelve − At a Crossroad
Still lost in her dreams, Meagan smiled, delighted with the details her senses had conjured for her. Never had her husband seemed as real to her as he had that night. It was almost as though her hand truly rested on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the soft rise and fall of his breathing.
Snuggling closer, Meagan wished she could remain in this dream world for good. However, the moment that thought occurred, she remembered that she had thought so once before, and she had almost lost herself in those dreams.
Empty dreams.
Memories of a life lost forever.
Still, she could feel him as though he were right here with her. If she opened her eyes though, she knew she would find the other side of the bed empty…as it always had been.
The echo of children’s laughter drifted to her ears, and she frowned, feeling the soft lull of slumber pull away. More sounds reached her mind. Birds chirped in the distance, their song almost drowned out by the strong wind that blew around the cottage.
Don’t wake up! Her soul screamed at her.
But there was nothing she could do.
Inevitably, her dreams would vanish in the light of day, bringing back a harsh reality she wished she could forget.
Sighing, Meagan opened her eyes…to find her husband sleeping beside her, his left hand covering hers as it rested on his chest.
Frozen, all Meagan could do was stare before her heart reawakened and a sudden joy surged to the surface, warming her chilled limbs and returning the memories of the previous night.
“It wasn’t a dream,” Meagan whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked down at Edward’s sleeping form. “He’s here. He’s truly here.”
Overwhelmed, Meagan felt the desperate need to fling herself into his arms, to wake him and hear him say that it was true, that he was not dead, that he had retur−
But he had not, had he?
As more pieces of the previous night fell into place, Meagan felt an icy cold spread through her limbs. Had she truly told him she would let him go? How could she have been so foolish? One night was not enough, not nearly enough.
After getting him back so unexpectedly, she could not simply allow him to walk out of her life again. She could not! No matter what she had to do, she could not allow him to leave. If need be, she would tie him to the bed and−
Sighing, Meagan closed her eyes.
She could not. As much as she wanted to, she could not.
Not because she had given him her word, but because it was his choice.
It had to be.
If she made it for him, he would never truly be here. His body, yes; but his heart and soul would continue to struggle.
No, this was a decision he would have to make for himself.
What if he decides to leave?
Gritting her teeth, Meagan swallowed. “Then I will let him go.”
With tears streaming down her face, she slid from the bed. As she reached for her clothes, Meagan heard him stir behind her and turned to find him brushing a hand over his face. Then his eyes found hers, and they held the same incredulity she herself had experienced a moment earlier.
“When I woke up, I thought I was still dreaming,” she whispered, a soft smile on her face. “I couldn’t believe ye were truly here.”
Swallowing, he nodded, and she could see the memories of the previous night returning. Would he hold her to her word?
Quickly, Meagan turned her back to him and hastily pulled on her clothes. Then she rushed from the bedroom and back to the main room where she leaned heavily on the backrest of a chair and buried her face in her hands. “Stay calm,” she whispered to herself as her heart hammered in her chest. “Ye have to do this. Somehow ye have to find the strength to do this.”
“Are ye all right?” came her husband’s voice from the bedroom door. Then she heard him walk toward her, dragging his left leg awkwardly.
Even without turning to look at him, Meagan could picture the contorted expression of his face, the slight blush that reddened his cheeks as he bent down to pick up the cane he had dropped the night before. He felt broken. She knew that. Not worthy of her love.
It was a ludicrous thought, and yet, she did not know how to convince him that, for her, nothing had changed. He was as whole as he had always been.
Unfortunately, he would have to realise that for himself, and she was not certain if he ever would.
As Meagan turned to him, her gaze brushed over the small carving knife one of her neighbours often used for whittling small figurines for his sons and daughters. He had to have forgotten it the day before when they had still worked on readying her cottage.
“Are ye all right?” Edward asked again, now leaning heavily on his cane as though he could not stand without it.
Meagan nodded, then drew back her shoulders and lifted her head. Now or never, she told herself. “Ye need to make a choice,” she said, willing her voice not to break.
Her husband’s gaze narrowed as though he had rather avoid that topic as well.
Forcing herself to continue down the path she had chosen, Meagan reached for the small carving knife. “I need ye to know,” she began as her eyes held his, “that I love ye as I always have and that the thought of us being a family again is a dream come true.”
The muscles in his jaw quivered, and for a moment, he dropped his gaze, inhaling deeply.
“I want ye to stay, but if ye cannot, if ye truly wish to leave and take your own life,” she forced out, feeling tears stream down her face, “then ye might as well do it now.”
Instantly, his head snapped up, and he stared at her before his gaze travelled down to the knife in her hands.
Swallowing, Meagan gently placed the small blade on the table besi
de her and then approached her husband.
For an eternal moment, they looked at each other. Then she gently cupped a hand to the side of his face. “I love ye, Edward. Never doubt that.” Pulling him down to her once more, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips before stepping back. “Goodbye,” she whispered, then turned and almost bolted for the door.
***
As the door closed behind her, Edward felt as though he had strayed into a nightmare.
Is this not what ye wanted?
Gritting his teeth, Edward swallowed. She was letting him go. More than that. If it was truly his choice, then she would not even try to−
Again, he swallowed, remembering the tears that had streamed down her face, the anguish in her eyes as she had bid him farewell and the slight tremble in her limbs as she had forced herself out the door.
She had done it for him.
For if it were up to her, they would never part ways again.
Images of happier days floated into Edward’s mind, and he could not help the soft smile that came to his lips from growing ever bigger and wider, filling his heart with emotions he had long since thought lost. Was there truly a chance for him to return?
Had he not already returned?
Closing his eyes, Edward remembered the previous night in his wife’s arms, their passionate encounter as they had slowly step by step rediscovered one another. Although she had changed−clearly−she was still the same woman he had fallen in love with. She could still see into his heart. She could still set his blood on fire with a single look.
She still loved him as she always had…did she not?
Even if he had thought it impossible, it had proven real and true.
Glancing around the cottage, Edward could picture a future there…with his wife and his children. He knew he ought not to. He was being selfish, and yet, he could not help himself. More than anything, he wanted to come home.
“Home,” he whispered, remembering the many cold and lonely days of the past three years. Only now they were of the past, and what lay ahead of him was warm and welcoming and full of love.