by Marie Piper
“Then he’ll never know.” They leaned side by side against the bar, and Haven could feel his heat, he was so close to her. “May I ask a personal question?”
“As if you’re not going to, regardless of what I say.”
Hank’s green eyes seemed to search her soul. “Do you love him? Your deputy?”
That she could answer truthfully. “I've always loved him, as long as I can remember. He is good and true and I have always known I would one day be his wife.”
“Then why is there such a sadness in you?”
Having Hank notice that things weren’t perfect between her and Matthew surprised Haven, spurring her to honesty. “I don’t know if he feels the same.” Why she was spilling her soul to everyone she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to stop talking. She certainly didn’t want to have to move away from him.
“Then why tie yourself to him like a field horse?”
“Because I am a good girl who always does exactly what is expected of her. I’m already an old maid by a few years. Matthew is a fine man, I’ve known him all my life, and I love him. He’s steady and smart and wonderful. Besides, everyone in town wants it to happen.”
“What do you want?”
How could she answer that? she wondered. She wanted things she shouldn’t. She wanted to cast aside her dull dresses, wear red silks, and have Matthew want to make love to her. She wanted to know more about the world than she could ever learn from living in a small town.
“What I want isn’t that important,” she whispered.
“It’s important to me.” As he turned to her, Hank moved and brought his body into contact with hers. She felt his hard thigh against hers, and her head spun a little. The sheer size of him dwarfed her, and as he leaned on the bar he had to look down at her. Surrounded by him, she wondered again what it would be like to lie in his arms.
Mainly to see his reaction, she confessed, “Callie told me I should take a lover.”
Hank didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. “Callie is rarely wrong when it comes to matters of men and women.”
“She thinks it should be Jack Braxton.”
He nearly choked and shook his head. “She’s a lunatic. Absolutely not. That man would eat a sweet thing like you alive. I won’t allow it.”
Haven enjoyed the idea that he’d take an interest in who she’d choose for a lover. “Oh, you won’t?”
“Definitely not,” he replied. He looked down at her seriously. “You’re one of the most desirable women in this town, whether you know it or not. I have nothing but respect for your fiancé, but he’s a damn fool if he doesn’t see how lucky he is. Any man would beg for your affection if you asked them to.”
“What about you?” she asked. The moment the words left her lips, she blamed the whiskey.
Hank’s green eyes said all sorts of secret things. “I never beg.”
Haven gasped at his impertinence and swatted him. “You rogue!”
When her hand landed on his muscular arm, she again felt a tingling and knew she was flushed red. More surprising, she found herself unable to take her hand away from him.
The faintest scent of whiskey came from him as he moved his face even closer to hers. He spoke softly. “Have you ever been kissed, my dear?”
Had it really been six years since Matthew had kissed her in the tallgrass? So much of her youth had slipped away, lost in work and daydreams. Before her stood a man who seemed to promise something immediate and real. Feeling she had to take the chance, she gave him honesty. “It’s been a long, long time.”
Hank slid a firm hand around her waist and pulled her body tight to his. With his other hand he brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear and lifted her chin. “Do you want me to remind you what it’s like?”
In that moment, with him so warm against her, for him to kiss her was the only thing she wanted. Haven realized she was nodding before she had time to think it through.
Slowly, Hank brought his face to hers. She closed her eyes.
Everything in Cricket Bend faded away as he planted his mouth on hers with a fearless hunger that took her breath away.
CHAPTER NINE
Matthew
Reverend Evans held the congregation rapt with his Sunday sermon about greed, even though the church was smoldering hot. Already, Mrs. Pratchett had fainted and been hauled outside. Matthew sat beside Luke in a pew in the middle of the church. Haven had chosen to sit on the other side of her father, instead of between the two men as she usually did. She hadn’t looked at Matthew all morning, and she had barely muttered a greeting.
Distracted, Matthew looked around the packed room. People stood or sat wherever they could. All the good people of Cricket Bend attended Sunday service regularly, both for the spiritual refreshing the reverend provided, but also for the chance to see and to be seen. The Harpers always sat front and center, wearing their Sunday finery. Right in the middle of everyone’s view of the altar, Laura Harper fanned herself while nodding at everything that the Reverend said. Beside her sat Ellie Graham, formerly of the Harper family, with her dull brown hair elaborately braided and wearing a frilly dress with a white collar. Her husband, Charles, tried not to doze as he sat beside her. Matthew couldn’t blame him. Being married to Ellie would drain the life out of any man.
Ed Dean stood up next to his wife as she sat in a pew. Matthew wondered how a woman could stay married to a man for forty years when he spent every night away from home, drinking at a saloon. Maybe Gloria Dean liked it better when Ed left her alone.
What kind of husband he would become, Matthew didn’t know yet. He hoped he’d be the kind that his wife would want around, that she’d look forward to him coming home from a long day’s work. At that moment, he figured Haven would like it best if he fell off a cliff. Though he couldn’t see her face, he could see her small hands. They were in her lap, lying against her green skirt, but they wouldn’t stop moving. She tapped them, fidgeting, picking at the fabric and her skin until Luke set his hand on top of hers.
Matthew guessed her restlessness was his fault, and he felt terrible about it. If he could turn back the clock, he’d have taken her in his arms out in that field and kissed her so hard her knees would have buckled. He was kicking himself for pushing her away. Four more weeks remained until their wedding. After that, he could kiss her, love her freely, and breathe easier about so many things.
Of course, she’d have to be willing to speak to him again first.
They were barely out the door after the sermon, and Matthew had just caught up with her, when Ellie Graham flounced up and threw her arms around Haven like they were the best of friends. Over Ellie’s shoulder, Haven gave Matthew a surprised look.
Ellie gushed loudly and took both Haven’s hands in hers. “Oh Haven, honey! Congratulations. I’m so happy for you. Why, I was just telling Charles the other day that you’ll be a beautiful bride. Planning my wedding was the most exciting time of my whole life. Have you ordered a dress yet?”
“I’m going to wear my mother’s.” Haven could plaster a fake smile on her face with the best of them, and Matthew recognized her mild annoyance. The two young women had barely been friends, and Ellie’s sudden attention most likely had other motives.
“That is so sweet. Why, when I got married, we ordered a dress special from New York City. It almost didn’t get here in time and I was fit to be tied. Having the dress already makes things so much easier.” Ellie had always worked the same way, praising people to the sky while undercutting them at the same time. Both Matthew and Haven were well aware of how she felt superior to everyone. Matthew stepped into the conversation and put a hand on Haven’s back as a show of support, just in case she needed it.
Just then, Ed and Gloria Dean walked by. Ed nodded to Haven with a big smile as he passed. “Miss Anderson. Mrs. Graham. Deputy.”
“Have a nice day, Mr. Dean, Mrs. Dean.”
Ellie’s eyes grew wide, and she lowered her voice, lightly touching Haven on the arm as
if they were lifelong friends. “I hear Ed Dean spends all his nights over at Porter’s. He was even in that brawl the other day. Why, if Charles spent that much time in the saloon, I’d just die. Have you heard about my mother’s suggestion to remove that hussy from Porter's?”
Matthew felt Haven take a sharp intake of breath under his palm. Ellie was pressing dangerous buttons.
“I had heard, yes.”
“At the very least, she should only be allowed to work at night.”
“It seems to me that would be bad for her business,” Haven began, leaning forward to speak in a hushed tone as if she was letting Ellie in on some grand secret. Ellie ate it up. “From what I’ve seen, Callie Lee could work twenty-four hours a day if she wanted. Heck, Jasper is breaking down her door most mornings.”
The youthful romance of Ellie Harper and Jasper Tanner was well-known among the citizens their age. The two had been inseparable before Ellie had married a rich man. They’d been known for sneaking away to haystacks and getting conveniently lost together. By playing that card, Matthew knew Haven had struck a direct blow, possibly even started a war.
Ellie’s eyes flashed with anger, but she kept her big fake smile plastered on her face as she laughed. She folded her hands together. “Well, it looks like we’ll have a lot to discuss at the society meeting on Wednesday. Will you be attending this week, or will you be too busy working?”
Haven’s face matched Ellie’s. “Why, I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Oh, good. I do hope once you’re married we see more of you. Have a lovely afternoon, you two.”
“Good afternoon, Ellie.”
Ellie traipsed back to her husband, linked arms with him, and practically pulled him away from the church and back to their buggy. Matthew saw the determination on Haven’s face and stepped close to her. “What was that about?”
“I can’t stand her judging people all the time. Callie’s no bother to anyone.”
Matthew was surprised to hear that. “Just the other day the two of you were squabbling in the street.”
“Squabbling, sure. But I don’t think she should be driven out by a bunch of nosy biddies who’ve never even met her.” Haven sighed hard. “I shouldn’t have mentioned Jasper.”
Matthew lowered his voice. “It ain’t much of a secret that he goes to her room.”
“Does Papa know?”
“Don’t reckon so.”
“Don’t tell him. It ain’t none of our business. Ellie just got under my skin. Acting like she’s better than everyone all the time. Acting like once I’m married I’ll be tamed and start wanting to sip tea in stuffy dresses with her and her friends.”
“You’re actually going to the society meeting on Wednesday?” Haven generally tried to find reasons to miss those gatherings, and Matthew couldn’t believe she’d willingly go to one. “Figured you’d volunteer to wash the floors at the jail or something to get out of it.”
“I wouldn’t miss this one for the world.” She looked after Ellie Graham with a fearsome feminine fury, and Matthew swallowed hard. He knew at least part of her mood was his fault.
After leaving her mad at him the night in the field, Matthew had taken to drinking his woes away while he watched over the jail. The McKenzie boys had given him grief, and then begged for a drink once he’d brought out the bottle Luke kept in his desk for hard times. Enjoying the agony of the thirsty cowboys, he’d ignored their griping and pretended to read while he’d gone into his own dark thoughts.
If Haven changed her mind about marrying him, he’d likely die.
It sounded melodramatic, but he would. There’d be no point to life without her. He turned to her and saw her looking after Ellie's buggy like she’d have shot an arrow at it if she’d had the chance.
It seemed as good a time as any to make amends. “I gather you’re still mad at me.”
Haven didn’t answer him, but walked over to the tree where she’d tied Echo. She gave the horse a few gentle strokes before checking her saddle and adjusting the attached bag.
“That’s fine,” he called, not following her. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve raced over by the grove. But if you don’t want to take a ride, I understand. I bet I can still beat you, though.”
Without looking at him, Haven untied Echo and got on her horse.
Matthew waited and watched, barely breathing. His heart sank as she rode past him without any form of acknowledgement. So much for a grand plan for reconciliation.
Just as he readied to slit his throat in despair, she looked back over her shoulder. “You’re on, Deputy.”
Before he even gathered what was happening, she was off and running. Matthew ran to his horse and took off after her, but quickly found himself at a disadvantage. Haven and Echo had ridden the route many times over recent years, and he and Copper were relying on memory.
As they tore through grass, over hills, and along ridges, Matthew felt free and happy. He caught up with Haven after a bit and rode by her side. They went as fast as their horses could take them, and the walls between them seemed to crumble one brick at a time. The freedom of letting everything go, save for the feeling of riding in the open air, swept over Matthew.
By the time they stopped for a rest by a creek to let the mares drink, they were on better terms. Haven went to a big rock and pulled her skirt up a bit to crouch and dip her fingers into the cool water. “You think that Walker fellow will come here?”
Matthew remembered the man in the brawl. “Seems like it. Braxton ain’t saying too much out loud, but he knows something. He wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
The danger in his words hung between them.
Haven chucked a pebble out into the water. It sank fast. “Did you ever get into any barroom brawls while you were on a drive?”
Matthew smiled shyly and shrugged. “One or two. I feel for those boys. Driving cows is hard work, but it’s no excuse for wrecking property and roughing up folks.”
He threw a pebble at the water. Instead of sinking like hers had, his stone skipped three times before it went to the bottom.
Haven reached for another especially flat stone and tried to skip it, but it only jumped once before sinking. Her pretty face scowled. Matthew tried not to smile as he watched her still trying to prove she could do things just as well as the boys.
“You’re moving your hand too much,” he offered. He bent down and picked up another stone and set it in her hand. To demonstrate the movement, he took gentle hold of her wrist. As his thumb rested lightly on the inside of her palm, he watched their hands together. Even the simple touch of her could thrill him.
When it came time for her to skip the stone herself, it sank straight away.
“You’ll get it,” Matthew said, taking his hand from hers. He sat back for a moment and looked around at the trees and the water. “Should we go over to the house for a bit? I’m moving in tomorrow.”
“I don’t need to start supper for a while yet. I’d like to see it.”
***
Haven
The ride to the Kilpatrick place, now their future home, didn’t take long. Haven tried to take in everything as they rode up the small hill to the house.
The house was about the same size as hers, and appeared to be built of wood and stone. In place of a barn, there was a fenced pen for the horses as well as a lean-to to cover them in inclement weather. The porch of the house faced west, just like her father’s home. She’d always liked watching the sunset from there.
“Go on in,” Matthew suggested.
Haven went up the steps into the house while he penned the horses. The door was unlocked, and as she opened it, she heard a soft creak. She saw a kitchen area with a woodstove, a fireplace in another wall with a stone chimney, and big windows that allowed sunlight to stream through the main room. As she explored, she imagined the house full of her and Matthew’s things—their things in their home. The tools they would use to build their life together. They’d need to buy pots and pans, lanter
ns, oil, and candles. Her mind worked in practical ways, filling the spaces in the home with what it needed.
The log house had three bedrooms, two of which were on the small side and completely empty. They would be good rooms for children when the time came. Haven could visualize one for a boy and one for a girl. She’d make them quilts, as her mother had done for her and for Matthew when they were children. Not pink for her little girls, though. She’d never dress them in frills and lace.
Matthew leaned in the doorway and watched quietly as she wandered and daydreamed.
“Where’d the Kilpatricks go?” Haven’s fingers grazed along the well-done woodwork of a door frame.
“Alabama. Back to their people. William knew I was looking for a place and gave me a real good price.”
“It’s very nice,” she replied. She stopped at a big bare wall. “Is this where the bookcases will go?” She knew he had a collection of books growing in his room at the boardinghouse. That he cared for words was one of the things she found most interesting about him. Most young men she’d met only cared about horses and guns, but Matthew almost always had a book in his saddlebag. They’d always read together, talked of books together, and traded favorites together. Haven almost felt their marriage wouldn’t be official until their book collections were joined on shelves.
“I thought on that wall, by the fireplace.”
“I think that would be lovely.”
Haven stepped into the third bedroom, which was the largest of the three, and would obviously be the one she and Matthew would share. The room already held a wooden bed frame and headboard, though it was missing a mattress. At the idea of sharing a bedroom and a bed with him and all that would entail, her throat closed a little. She thought of how much she wanted him to want her, and she felt guilty for losing her senses the previous day with Hank.
She stayed in the doorway for a long time, her mind running wild. She was so lost in her thoughts she barely noticed Matthew had come up behind her.