by Lynn Kellan
A dog stood in the mudroom, waiting for Hale to return.
Danielle froze, holding her breath as the big brown lab gave her dress a cursory sniff that left a slobbery streak along the silky hem.
“The boys love having you around, but I’m not too happy about all the drool.” The tension loosened in Danielle’s shoulders when Cocoa trudged away and lay by the door with a doleful whimper. “Don’t worry. Hale will be home soon.”
Mindful she no longer had the house to herself, Danielle hurried to change into jeans and settled in the cozy office tucked behind the living room. Almost two hours passed before Cocoa’s jubilant bark interrupted Danielle’s work. Ready for a break, she walked into the kitchen in time to see the dog running circles around Hale in exuberant welcome.
“I asked the butcher to stop by tomorrow.” Hale put a grocery bag on the counter and tussled Cocoa’s ears. “Will you be here tomorrow morning when he delivers the meat?”
“Yes.” She rubbed her thumb along her index finger as she thought about how much it would cost for a delivery. “We don’t need a lot. How much did you order?”
“Enough.”
Not sure how to interpret his brusque response, Danielle peered inside the brown paper bag. Inside were a carton of eggs, a bag of flour, three packs of gum, and butter. By the time she looked up, Hale arrived with another armload of groceries.
She pointed to the pantry on the opposite wall. “I bought food three days ago.”
“You didn’t spend all the money I gave you.” Hale shot her a disapproving scowl. “You used forty dollars and gave back the rest.”
“Stretching my money to go a long way at the grocery store is easy.” Danielle’s empty stomach growled in contradiction. Ignoring the protest, she followed Hale into the fresh April sunshine and gasped when she saw the mounds of groceries waiting in his pickup. They spent fifteen minutes carrying all the food inside. She tightened her ponytail and gestured to the bags crowding the kitchen. “I can’t afford all this.”
“I can.” With a grin, he opened a bag of cookies with one ready rip. “I’m starving, aren’t you? We missed lunch.”
She caught a whiff of chocolate and pretended not to be interested. Instead, she used her thumb and forefinger to lift a massive bag of candy bars like she was plucking a dirty sock off the floor. “Are you trying to give my boys cavities?”
“No. I’m trying to put some weight on them.” He stuffed a cookie into her palm. “And you.”
“Me?” She dropped the candy back into the grocery bag and frowned at the soft cookie in her hand.
“Three days ago, you looked pale when you were trying to till the garden. Thought you might pass out.” The muscle along Hale’s jaw tightened. “You’re not eating enough.”
Flustered that he noticed, she took a big bite of the confection, almost tripping over a bag of potatoes when a burst of sweet chocolate melted on her tongue. The last time she ate something this good was at Christmas. “Oh, wow. This tastes amazing.”
Smiling broad enough to display the chip on his bottom tooth, Hale loosened his tie with an efficient yank. “Mind putting away the food? I don’t know where you like to store things.”
“Sure.” Danielle picked up an egg carton. “Why did you buy these? I have two chickens in the coop.”
“Those old birds won’t lay more than two eggs a week. Don’t worry, I’ll buy more hens as soon as I build a bigger cage for them.”
Visions of omelets and scrambled eggs danced in her head. “Having more chickens would be great. Thank you.”
He nodded and rubbed a hand along Cocoa’s smooth back.
“I opened up a checking account in both our names. The bank will mail us debit cards in a couple of days.” His steady blue gaze met Danielle’s. “Sometime tomorrow, we need to talk about our budget.”
She cast a guilty glance at the food crowded on the counters. “After that conversation, you’ll probably regret spending so much at the grocery store.”
“This is my wedding gift to you. You’ll never have to worry about feeding your boys while you’re with me.”
Danielle blinked, muted by his kindness.
“Here, take this.” He slipped a wad of bills into the back pocket of her jeans. “Get whatever else you need.”
“I can’t accept your money. Please take it back.” She hastily extended the roll of bills toward him.
“That money is yours.” His hand closed over hers, preventing her from dropping the cash onto the counter.
Her pulse in her wrist fluttered under the pressure of his thumb. Every couple fought about money, but Danielle had never been with a man who insisted on giving her money. “I’ve already burdened you with enough. Don’t do this.”
An eyebrow arched. “Don’t provide for my family? You’re kidding, right? You married a traditional guy, one who will work like heck to keep a roof over your head.” He let go of her and unbuttoned his shirt cuff. “I’m gonna get to work on the tractor. Don’t bother cooking tonight. I told Drew and Luke we’d order pizza to celebrate keeping the farm in the family.”
Hale headed upstairs before she could respond, so she set the money inside an empty jar and began to unpack the groceries. Every bag contained some sort of extravagance, like candy, soda, and ice cream.
Was he trying to win over her boys with sugar? Sadly, that simple tactic might work. Danielle sucked in her breath when she realized Drew and Luke weren’t his only targets. At the bottom of the last bag, she came face to face with her greatest weaknessa book.
She picked up the paperback and pressed her nose against the pages, inhaling the crisp scent like she held an armful of roses. The novel was a spy thriller, certain to provide much-needed escape from the crushing anxiety pulsing just beneath the surface of her daily routine. Clasping the book against her chest, she smiled.
****
Later that night, Danielle pretended to be captivated by the poorly written term paper in front of her when Hale entered her office.
“Why don’t we go to bed?” Hale braced a shoulder against the wall. “It’s nearly eleven. I’m beat.”
“You can go ahead without me.”
“Nope. Not tonight.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve got something to prove.”
The pen squirted out of her hand, skittering across her desk. “Like what?”
“That my wife can trust me.”
The term paper blurred into an incomprehensible jumble of letters. “Please stop being so nice. Your kindness makes me feel even guiltier for asking you to help me.”
Two strong hands pulled her chair away from the desk. “Come upstairs. You’re as tired as I am. How can you grade that paper if you can’t keep your eyes open?”
“I close my eyes when I’m thinking.”
“Think in bed, okay?” He extended his hand and waited.
She stared at the red scrape along his index finger, most likely sustained when he tuned up the tractor that afternoon. Danielle suddenly remembered how Mark used to storm out of the barn in a foul temper whenever he couldn’t fix the mechanical snafus sidelining the equipment, but Hale had a knack with machines. His family had relied on him to keep things running, so she wasn’t surprised when he repaired the tractor in short order and started plowing.
He could fix anything he touched, but could she trust those adept hands on her body?
Sliding her narrow palm into his, she felt a bristle of apprehension when his fingers closed around her hand and helped her up with a gentle tug. Looking away from the sober curiosity in his gaze, Danielle let go, unnerved by how nice sliding her palm against his felt.
Hale cleared his throat and gestured for her to go first.
She took a tentative step and stopped when she noticed the dog standing in the doorway.
“Cocoa, heel.”
The lab trotted to his side with an obedient wag of her tail.
Danielle headed for the stairs, mindful of the thud of Hale’s stocking feet beh
ind her. They made the long climb up the stairs in awkward silence, but Cocoa’s thick tail thumped against the wall with every happy wag.
Concerned the noise might disturb her sons, Danielle hesitated by the twins’ bedroom and listened for the smallest sound that might give her an excuse to check on them.
“The boys are fine, Dani.” Hale grabbed her around the waist and picked her up, carrying her down the rest of the hallway and over the threshold of their bedroom.
Did he mean to make this a traditional wedding night? Her stomach twisted. Glancing at the neckline of his blue shirt, she was surprised to see red creeping up his neck. Not sure if the flush was one of exertion or embarrassment, she took a stumbling step backwards when he lowered her feet to the floor.
He flicked a hand through his hair and gestured in the general direction of the bed. “Which side do you want?”
“I sleep close to the door in case Luke comes in.”
“Fine.” He nodded toward the adjoining bathroom. “Do you want to go first?”
“You go ahead.” She stayed motionless until the bathroom door closed behind him. Lurching to the bureau, she searched for something to wear. Her normal bedtime outfit consisted of a tank top and panties, which was far too skimpy for tonight.
Something roomy and dull would work better. Stuffed in the back of a drawer, she found a gray t-shirt and baggy yellow pajama bottoms. Perfect. She put them on in a nervous rush and then let out a relieved sigh. Danielle pulled the elastic band off her ponytail, allowing her hair to fall in a billow of gold waves to her shoulder blades.
Hale emerged from the bathroom and came to an abrupt halt when he saw her.
Danielle plucked at one of the sheep imprinted on the pajama bottoms. “Thought I’d go for comfort tonight. It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah.” His blue-eyed gaze burned a trail up her legs, jumped to the curve of her breasts, and darted to her face before jerking to the plain blue bedspread. “Uh, I’m done. The bathroom is yours.”
“Oh, okay.” She glanced at his bare chest and couldn’t help comparing him to Mark, who had put on a significant amount of weight from all the drinking. Her new husband didn’t have an extra ounce of fat on his body. Well-defined muscles sculpted Hale’s broad chest, and his torso narrowed to a lean, flat belly.
After catching a glimpse of the attractive way his blue boxer shorts hung on his hips, Danielle almost lost her nerve to go through with this sleeping arrangement.
A sudden jolt of adrenaline propelled her into the bathroom like she was strapped to a rocket. She shut the door and mouthed a wide-eyed “Wow!” at her reflection in the mirror.
By the time she finished brushing her teeth and returned to the bedroom, Hale was already in bed. She scrambled under the coverlet and turned off the light, cementing her arms to her side when she accidentally elbowed Hale’s warm back.
The queen-sized mattress felt cramped with a new husband who possessed shoulders as wide as a barn door.
“Go to sleep,” Hale murmured.
“On our wedding night?” Her chest tightened with anxiety. What would she do if Hale reached for her?
“I was talking to the dog.” He rolled onto his back.
“Oh, right. Where will she sleep?”
“I put her cushion in the corner.”
“Sounds good.” Danielle tucked the covers under her chin and folded her hands on top of her chest, resembling an Egyptian mummy.
Uncomfortable silence pulsed into the room. She studied the shadows cast by the blue light of her digital clock. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hale touch the back of his ear to adjust the volume on his hearing aid.
“I’ve been thinking about what Luke said the other day.” Hale glanced sideways. “How long did Mark sleep on the couch?”
“Six months.” She tried not to fidget with shame.
“What happened?”
“We had a fight about the bathroom. If you weren’t careful, the door would bounce off the cabinet drawer and fly back into your face. The third time it happened to Mark, he blamed me for leaving the drawer open. I told him the drawer wouldn’t stay closed, but he didn’t believe me.” She tried to tamp down the visceral memories from that bleak night. Her insides coiled with distress as she thought about how the alcohol had poisoned him, leaching away his decency until nothing could shield his anger.
“There’s a drawer missing under the sink.” Hale scratched his forehead. “Did that one cause the trouble?”
“Yes. He ripped it out during the argument.” Danielle crumpled the sheet in her fist, remembering how Mark had been drunk enough to take a swing at her and sober enough to regret the impulse. “After that, he slept in the living room.”
Hale stilled. “Because you asked him to?”
“No.” Her grip on the sheet tightened until a thread popped. “It just kind of happened that way.”
Hale let out a long breath. “So Mark ended up just like Dad.”
“What do you mean?” She turned her head in time to see Hale pinch the bridge of his nose with a grimace.
“They both slept on the couch.” He slid his hand to his chest and stared at the ceiling.
Danielle wondered if he’d divulge more. “Did your mother ask you father to sleep on the couch when they fought?”
“Yeah.” He went motionless, still as stone.
Their mother was one of the topics Cooper men avoided. Cancer claimed her when Hale was just thirteen. Danielle suspected if she survived, Hale’s mother would’ve stopped the rift between father and son. “Mark said your father was less grumpy when your mom was around. I wish I could’ve met her.”
Hale’s expression softened. “She loved books. Like you.”
Distracted by the large shadow sniffing the bedroom floor, Danielle broached a safer topic. “I’m a little worried your dog will inhale the carpet.”
“This is the first time Cocoa has been in your room. She’ll settle down once she makes sure there’s no food up here.”
Until Hale hauled a truckload of groceries into the kitchen, a crumb was the last thing any creature would find in her house. “If she’s hungry, the only edible thing around here is toothpaste.”
“Oral hygiene isn’t one of Cocoa’s priorities.” He chuckled when the dog trotted back to his side of the bed.
Her new husband seemed willing to chat and nothing more, which gave Danielle the courage to blurt the truth. “I’m scared, Hale. I’m scared we just made a huge mistake. I’m scared we won’t be able to make this farm work. And I’m scared you’ll reach for me and I won’t know what to do.”
“Don’t worry about any of those things. I won’t ask for something you can’t give.” His voice dropped to a husky murmur. “All I want is a chance to earn your affection.”
Surprise tightened her throat. For her, this marriage was a means to survive, not affection. Danielle bit her bottom lip, worried his expectations were different than hers.
Hale levered himself up to take off his hearing aid. The mattress heaved as he settled back down.
Danielle sighed. The weight of foreboding on her chest lightened now that she knew he wouldn’t press her for sex. Grateful for the reprieve, she touched her new wedding ring. The simple band felt solid and strong. Like Hale.
In the dark corner of the room, Cocoa thudded onto her cushion with a tired sigh.
A small spark of optimism boosted Danielle’s spirits. Perhaps she might survive this wedding night without any tears.
Her hopes took a sharp dive when Hale turned toward her and got up on one elbow. Shadows cloaked his expression as he smoothed the hair away from her face.
With a jolt, she realized that even though he wasn’t going to force himself on her, he never said he wouldn’t try to seduce her. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
He didn’t hear her. He couldn’t, not without his hearing aid.
Danielle shrunk into the mattress when he lowered his head until the tip of his nose touched hers.
As his warm breath rolled over the rise of her lips, she smelled mint toothpaste. Strange to be close to a man who didn’t taste like whiskey. Danielle skewered shut her eyes. When had the stale scent of liquor become normal?
Clutching the covers under her chin, she jerked when Hale’s warm chest pressed against her forearm. He brushed a kiss in the hollow of her cheek, the slow tempo of his movements speaking volumes for his control. This was not a man who’d give into his raw impulses at the expense of her peace of mind. His big hand closed over hers, the dry heat of his palm radiating into her new wedding band.
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she couldn’t help comparing Hale to Mark. His sandy blond hair glinted in the dim light thrown off by her electric alarm clock, whereas Mark’s dark features used to blend into the night. The biggest difference between the two brothers lay in their eyes. Mark rarely met her gaze, but Hale couldn’t seem to stop looking into her eyes. As they lay in the muddy darkness tenting their bed, he stared as though she lit up the room.
“Years ago, you were the only one who believed I didn’t set the fire. You gave me the courage to leave and find my own way,” he murmured. “Only fair I return the favor and set you free from the past.”
He gave her hand one more squeeze before rolling onto his back, leaving an imprint of warmth along her fingertips.
She closed her eyes and rubbed her thumb against the back of her wedding band, soothed by the smooth texture.
Her new husband had done everything possible to make their wedding day special, like providing the rings, filling the house with food, and promising to make things right. Later in the evening, he gamely engaged her boys in conversation while she sat in stunned silence during their take-out pizza dinner.
For all he did today, and now this sweet pledge tonight, she’d done nothing in return. She hadn’t even given him a simple smile.
Self-pity rose, making her long for what could have been. If her parents were alive, she could’ve turned to them for help when Mark died. Instead, she pulled Hale into this quagmire. Regret seared through her. In light of how gracious he’d been, she wished she hadn’t acted so poorly in return.