Something about the gathering stirred up the old restlessness in him, and he glanced up at the sky wondering if it was too late to go off trading, after all. Since the summer he turned seventeen, he'd carried the whole of his world in his saddlebags. He'd always been curious about what lay beyond the next ridge, always loved following a river just to find out where it went. He'd never been satisfied to hunt the same hills every day or sit by the same fire in the evening.
What he couldn't fathom was why being with Livi and the children had made him feel so settled, so comfortable with himself. Still, all that domesticity was bound to sour eventually.
George Clark and his militia had burned Chillicothe and cleaned out the other Shawnee villages north of the Ohio, and the worst of the winter lay ahead. Than meant Livi would be safe enough at the cabin until spring. And maybe since she'd made all these fine new friends, they'd look in on her while he was gone.
Reid had almost made up his mind to order his trade goods, when Ben Logan sat down beside him on the steps.
"I wondered where you got off to," he greeted Reid, flushed and jovial with the pleasures of the day. "You have enough of watching the women dandle that baby?"
"I've been sitting here thinking about what I need to get from you so I can head off trading."
"You're going now?" Logan turned to stare at him. "So late in the season? I figured you'd be around this winter, what with Livi having had the baby and all."
Reid swallowed deep. "I think she'll do well enough through the winter months, and Eustace is riding back with us."
"Is he well enough to do that?"
"He thinks he is, and sometimes that's all that matters."
When Reid had asked the same question, Eustace had said a man needed to be where his wife was buried to face up to the loss. In his way, Reid understood that.
"At any rate, Eustace will be out there for Livi while I'm gone. And in the spring, when the baby's old enough to travel, I can take them all back to Lynchburg."
Reid grinned at Ben over the rim of his tankard. "Besides that way I can sell my own furs directly instead of trusting them to some backwoods broker."
"Well, damn!" Ben said, ignoring the insult. "Anne and I were hoping that while the parson was here, you and Livi would decide to marry up."
Reid knew he should laugh, but instead his hands tightened around his tankard. "Livi is David's wife."
"And David is dead."
Reid shrugged and took a long pull of whiskey.
"It's up to the living to live!" Logan encouraged him. "For you, that means marrying Livi, now, doesn't it?"
Reid stared down into the murky depths of his cup.
"You love her, don't you?" Ben pressed him.
"I don't know."
"Hell, man! You love her!" he insisted. "Every time you see her, your eyes light up. Every time you look at her or those three children, your face says they belong to you."
"They don't belong to me. They're David's, not mine."
"And wouldn't David want you looking after them?"
Ben Logan was the devil in the guise of a friend bartering for Campbell's soul.
God knows, Reid had imagined more than once how it would feel to claim David's family for himself. If he was willing to own up to it, he'd envied David for a good long while—having Livi to come home to, having children, having dreams that amounted to something.
Thinking about stepping into David's place made him ache with hope and frustration and fear he'd fought with all his life. But David was David, and Reid was Reid. David had belonged with a home and family. Reid had never belonged anywhere.
"No," he said. "They couldn't belong to me."
"Why not?"
Goddamn Ben and his questions. Reid didn't want to think about this—especially not when he'd more or less decided to leave. "Because—because I haven't found the men who murdered David!"
Logan snorted in reply. "It's been months since David died. You aren't any closer to finding out who attacked their camp than you were when you started looking. You might as well accept that you're never going to find them."
"I promised Livi I'd avenge his death."
"Did you promise her," Ben asked, "or did you promise it to yourself?"
When Reid didn't answer, Ben swirled the last of the whiskey in the bottom of his tankard and drank it down. "I think you're here because you want to be. I think you're holding back because you're afraid—of what Livi and those children make you feel, of taking on that load of responsibility. No man likes the clutch in his belly when he looks at his wife and his family and realizes what they mean to him. But every man feels it."
Ben shoved to his feet and stood looking down at Reid.
"Don't jeopardize everything good in your life because you're dead set on righting a wrong that doesn't matter anymore. Don't push Livi and her children away because you're afraid of caring about them."
Reid felt his face get hot. He wanted to tell Ben that until he had stood over the bodies of the men who killed his friend, it would always matter. He wanted to say that he wasn't afraid of what he felt for Livi and the children.
He nodded at the older man instead. "You're a good friend, Ben Logan, even when you're wrong."
"You're a damn fool, Reid Campbell," Logan answered, shaking his head, "if you're too damn stubborn to acknowledge the truth."
* * *
"Has he asked you to marry him yet?"
Livi looked up from where her son suckled at her breast into Anne Logan's inquisitive face. They were in the little bedroom Ben had added to the side of their cabin to give Anne and him a little peace.
"Who is it that wants to marry me?"
"Why, Reid, of course."
"Reid Campbell?"
Anne settled herself at the side of the bed, reaching out to skim one finger over the silken skin of the baby's cheek. "And who else are we likely to be talking about?"
Livi shrugged. "You know as well as I do Reid's not a marrying man."
Anne quirked a brow in Livi's direction. "I would have agreed with you before, but now that I've seen him with you and that baby, I'm not so sure."
Livi looked down at Little David, not wanting the other woman to read the hope and confusion that shone in her eyes. "What does he do that makes you think so?"
Anne gave a gust of laughter. "Why, it's as plain as the nose on your face! He can't take his eyes off you. He behaves as if you already belong to him. And he's every bit as possessive with Tad and Cissy and Little David here. He glowered at everyone who came near you today. If ever there was a man ripe for marrying a woman, it's Reid ripe for marrying you."
"He's been very good to us since the baby was born," Livi allowed, "and I know he's been neglecting his trading so he can stay on with us." A frown came and went between her brows. "Or at least he's been neglecting it until now. He may head off into the woods once he's sure I'm feeling better."
"I don't think he's going anywhere," Anne predicted. "Besides, the kiss he gave you must mean something."
Livi sat up a little straighter, her cheeks flushed warm. "What kiss?"
"The kiss he gave you the night before you went back to the cabin."
"How do you know about that?"
Anne threw back her head and laughed. "My dear girl! Half the people in the station saw it. He kissed you like he wanted to make love to you right there in the yard. And with a man like Reid, I expect the fires burn pretty bright. What made him run off so fast?"
Livi figured there wasn't any point in denying what had happened. Besides, Anne was only indulging in a little good-natured teasing.
"The baby kicked him," Livi admitted, smoothing Little David's hair as he nursed.
Anne laughed again. "Serves him right. Has Reid approached you since then?"
"And when would he do that? Right before or right after he delivered this child?"
Anne was taking unholy delight in the situation. "Got a temper, don't you, girl? I wouldn't have expected that—no
t in someone raised up to be a lady like you were."
"It doesn't matter how I was raised. I'm not a lady anymore. I'm just a settler working to keep my family together."
"Marrying Reid would make that a good deal easier," Anne pointed out. "You care for him, don't you?"
Livi sighed. A few months ago she would have been happy to tell Anne how much she loathed Reid Campbell, how she'd thought of him as the devil incarnate for all of her married life. But today the answer was different. She wasn't sure exactly how it was different, but she couldn't hate the man who had helped her bring her last and most precious child into the world. She couldn't harbor enmity for a man who had welcomed that child with such all-consuming joy. When Reid first held Little David up for her to see, there were tears running down his face. It was a memory she would treasure all of her days.
Even if he wouldn't budge when it came to giving her the land, Reid had been good to her and the children in his way. He'd stayed by them while she regained her strength. He'd given them use of the cabin—at least until spring.
"I don't know how I feel about Reid," Livi told Anne honestly. "I don't have any idea how he feels about me."
"Don't be a fool, Livi. He loves you as sure as apples grow on apple trees. Just looking at him looking at you makes me recall how it used to be with Ben and me."
"Ben still looks at you like that."
Anne colored up. "Well, then, girl, since you think I know how good it can be between a man and a woman, take my word. If Reid won't ask the question, then maybe you should. Men need a nudge sometimes."
It was Livi's turn to laugh. "Asking Reid to marry me would be a downright shove."
"Well, sometimes they need that, too. You mark my words."
Livi looked down at her child again, thinking about her life here in Kentucky. Thinking about Reid.
"I think marriage would be a whole lot more responsibility than Reid Campbell is willing to take on right now."
Livi could see that Anne thought she was right.
"He could surprise you, Livi. When you put it that way, I wouldn't care to wager on the outcome, but he might just care about you and the children enough to take that chance. And if he did, Livi, it could be very good between you."
* * *
Damn Anne Logan, Livi thought at home later that evening as she undressed Cissy and put her to bed. What Anne had said earlier made it impossible for Livi to ignore Reid Campbell's presence in her cabin. She was vividly aware of him carrying in the armloads of wood she'd need to see her through the night, of him squatting before her hearth nursing the coals of the fire.
Livi couldn't help stealing a look at him when she had the chance, thinking how fine Reid had looked today in his blue broadcloth coat and buff-colored breeches, in his striped silk vest and soft cambric shirt. She had grown so used to seeing him done up in buckskin and trade cloth that she'd forgotten what an elegant figure he cut. Dressed in more conventional attire and with his hair tied back in a queue, he could pass for the finest Tidewater gentleman.
What Anne Logan had said also made Livi distinctly uncomfortable when, after getting the fire going, Reid took a place on the bench before the blaze as if he meant to stay.
Just as she was about to plead exhaustion and ask him to go, Tad burst in from seeing to the horses.
"Damn! It's cold out there!" he announced. "I had to break ice on the water barrel in order to wash."
"You did wash behind your ears, though, didn't you, Tad?" Livi asked, indulging in what had long ago become part of their nightly ritual.
"You know I did, Ma," he answered.
"And have you made sure that we have water for the night?"
Tad complied, snatching up the bucket by the door and filling it from the barrel in the breezeway. Then, taking the stub of a candle to light his way, he climbed the ladder to the loft.
"G'night, Ma," he called down. "G'night, Reid."
They bade him good night. Because she couldn't think of what else to do, Livi settled herself on the bench before the fire and picked up her mending. Reid looked over with interest, as if she were up to something far more exotic than darning a sock.
They sat barely a foot apart, their backs against the table and their feet stretched out toward the fire's warmth. As she pulled a stitch taut, Livi glanced in his direction. There was a vee-shaped pucker between Reid's brows, a tightness at the corners of his mouth. She couldn't imagine what was bothering him. Unless...
Livi flushed hot with ire and humiliation. Surely Anne Logan hadn't been so bold as to take Reid aside this afternoon and talk to him about marrying her, had she? On the off chance that the older woman had, Livi meant to set things straight—though she wasn't sure how.
She had to clear her throat twice before she could squeeze our any words at all. "I thought the christening went very well."
"Indeed it did."
"It was good of Anne and Ben to invite everyone back to their cabin."
"You certainly took great delight in seeing all of your new friends."
She sensed undercurrents in Reid tonight, shifts and depths she couldn't quite fathom. Her heartbeat flickered and picked up speed. "Yes, I did."
Silence fell, the air between them inexplicably thickening. Livi's stomach fluttered, and her hands went damp. She felt as if she were missing something important.
"Reid, I was won—"
Little David's cry cut her short.
Welcoming the diversion, Livi rose to see to him. She had left the baby bundled up between pillows on her bed, and she changed his diaper before lifting him onto her shoulder. He was hungry again, but then, Little David always seemed to be hungry. Without thinking, Livi loosened the laces at the neck of her chemise and guided her nipple into the baby's mouth.
It wasn't unusual for Reid to be in the cabin when she put the baby to her breast, but the simple act seemed different tonight. It seemed so much more intimate, as if baring herself like this were somehow provocative. Color warmed Livi's face dis as she resumed her seat on the bench. To do otherwise would have given credence to the tension stirring between them.
Though she bent her head, Livi sensed Reid was studying her as she nursed her child. Stealing a look at him, she watched the planes and angles of his face soften in a way he rarely permitted the world to see. Instead of keeping all that concern and vulnerability hidden away, he was trusting her with his finer emotions. It made her remember how he'd wept when he'd first held her child in his hands, how sometimes he seemed so weary and so very much alone.
Livi wanted to reach out to soothe the tension gathered between his eyes, the loneliness she sensed at the core of him even now. She wanted to find a way to make him whole. She knew the impulse was dangerous. To answer the need she sensed in him, she would have to risk emotions she wasn't sure she was ready to feel again.
Just when Livi would have drawn away, Reid shifted closer. He reached out one dark hand and stroked the baby's cheek.
"So fragile," he murmured in wonder. "So miraculous."
Suddenly Livi wasn't sure if he was speaking about the baby in her arms or the feelings growing thick and warm between Reid and her.
As he stroked the boy, his knuckles grazed her breast, and with that simple touch, unexpected longing rose in her. It spilled through her, slow and honey-sweet until she ached with a need to claim this tender stranger. This other Reid.
She raised her head and saw her yearning mirrored in his eyes. Though she feared she was wrong to acknowledge it, Livi couldn't look away. Barely breathing, she shifted nearer and raised her lips to his, taking his wide, warm mouth with the fullness of her own.
Reid drew her and the baby to him with the strong, sure sweep of his arm. With his opposite hand he slid his fingertips along the curve of her throat.
"Livi." He whispered the word, gentle and feather-light, against her mouth. "Oh, Livi."
She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensate luxury of his nearness. She curled into the protective b
readth of his body, into his deep, sustaining heat. She savored the glide of his tongue against her mouth, savored the opening and the welcoming, the sweet and sinuous merging of his tongue and hers. She nestled closer and breathed him in, the scents of horses and whiskey and masculinity. She felt enveloped, sheltered, and—for the first time in months—exquisitely cherished.
He pulled her closer, as if he were as hungry as she was for deeper contact.
Little David yelled in protest at being jostled and deprived of his dinner. He shook his tiny, balled fists like the tyrant he was.
Reid and Livi fell back laughing.
"I guess he's making his feelings abundantly clear," Reid said, shifting away from her. "He wants his mother to himself."
His meaning simmered between them. He was going to leave.
"I guess I've never much held with giving a child everything he wants," she answered.
The air went sharp and thin between them.
Reid looked into her face, his eyes alive with questions. "And what about his mother?" he finally asked. "What does Little David's mother want?"
Livi realized how much she had to decide. If she followed her inclinations, if she made love with Reid, things would never be the same. She didn't know how they would be different. She didn't know how she wanted them to be different. She just knew that once they touched in that intimate way, once they shared the sweet, dark secrets of mutual passion, there would be no going back.
If she sent Reid away, the question would always lie unresolved between them. He would never ask again. She would never have the opportunity or the courage to reach out to this complex and solitary man. She would never have the chance to save him from himself. He would never be able to give anyone all she believed he had to offer.
Livi took a shuddery breath. "Little David's mother very much wants to be with you. I want to be with you."
After a moment Reid stood up and glanced around as if he weren't quite sure what to do with the miraculous gift she'd given him.
"But we can't... be together here. Not in David's bed. Not with your children sleeping..."
"Could we go across to your cabin?" she asked. "Once I've finished feeding the baby and changed him again, he will sleep. We could..." The thought of just what they could do left Livi a little breathless. "We could be together."
A Place Called Home Page 30