by Lynn Kellan
She could still redeem herself. Reaching to her nightstand to flick on the lamp, she turned toward Hale.
A furrow formed along his brow and his mouth was set in a tense line.
“Thank you for feeding my boys,” she told him.
“Sorry. What did you say?” He studied her mouth as she repeated herself and then nodded in understanding. “You’re welcome.”
When he started to reach for his hearing aid, Danielle put her hand on his arm to stop him. “I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”
Propelled to do something right before their wedding day ended, she leaned down and placed her lips against his in a soft, grateful kiss. Her long gold hair fell forward, curtaining their faces from the bright lamplight. She caressed his hard jaw as a hot tear rolled down her cheek. Thanks to him, she was no longer alone. Somehow, she’d find a way to thank him for coming back when she needed him most.
She broke the kiss, but not before she learned his unique taste. A small voice in the back of her mind whispered Hale wouldn’t hurt her like Mark had.
As soon as the thought formed, she felt him pull the heavy silk of her hair from her face. He gazed at her in sober contemplation before tracing the wet trail of her tear with his thumb.
Danielle had to remind herself this would be her new reality for the next few months. He might not hear her, but his sharp eyes would see everythingeven the translucent evidence of her sorrow.
“We need you more than you know,” she whispered.
Surprise flickered in his gaze when he read her lips, and the rigid muscles along his jaw relaxed.
Turning off the light, she rolled onto her side to stare at the blue glow from her clock. Guilt rose out of the darkness, sinking its fangs into her morose unease.
Judging by Hale’s questions a few minutes ago, he wondered about her marriage with Mark. She suspected her oblique answers only served to heighten his curiosity.
Closing her eyes tight, she worried what Hale would do if he ever discerned the part she played in his brother’s downfall?
Chapter Five
The nightmare returned. Hale was inside the barn, trying to stamp out the fire creeping across the oak floor. Every effort to snuff the yellow flames fanned their appetite, like some ravenous monster with a bright yellow tongue. The fire licked at his jeans as he pulled a bale of hay out of the way. The heat was stifling.
With no way to extinguish the blaze, he sprinted for the door. He stumbled outside in time to see a familiar figure running from the barn, but it was too late to call for help. The damage was done.
Hale awoke with a start, disoriented and heart pounding. The purple hue of dawn seeped into the room. A swirl of gold spread over the pillow beside him.
Danielle. His wife.
Her hair looked like corn silk, the color of summer. Six years ago, she used to let him touch her hair. So far, that hadn’t changed. Remembering how the cool strands felt last night, he fingered a silky wave cascading off her pillow.
His body thrummed just because he was touching her hair. If something this simple affected him so profoundly, no wonder he had trouble falling asleep after the shy way she kissed him last night. The sweet pressure of her mouth against his tempted him to deepen the kiss, but he doused the impulse when he noticed the unmistakable trail of a tear glistening on her cheek.
Was she crying because she had to marry him to regain her footing? Or did she miss Mark? Hale suspected her sadness was a combination of the two. At least, she needed him. That was enough, for now.
He plucked his hearing aid off the nightstand, knowing he couldn’t fall back to sleep. The dream always unsettled him, but the memory of the ferocious flames bothered him even more now that Danielle lay beside him.
There was no way to tell her what really happened that night without inflicting more hurt. He’d do everything in his power to stop the cycle of pain haunting this farm. Careful not to wake her, he got out of bed and started working.
****
For the first time in her life, Danielle was married to a man who spent more time out of bed than in it. She marveled at Hale’s uncanny ability to wake up at five in the morning without an alarm clock. Rather than rely on a buzzer to jar him out of sleep, he seemed to wake with the early strands of sunrise. He was always out of the room by the time her alarm screamed at five-thirty.
Danielle used that solitary hour in the morning to start her chores. She fed the chickens, watered the garden, packed lunches, and made breakfast before getting the boys ready for school.
Once they were on the school bus, she showered, dressed, and drove to the university. After teaching class and meeting with students or faculty, she rushed home to greet Luke and Drew after school.
Thanks to the abundance of food in the kitchen, dinner preparation became a pleasure.
Without fail, Hale showed up at six to eat. After supper, he’d work in the barn until darkness drove him back to the house.
Once the boys went to sleep, Danielle retreated to her office to prepare lectures or do research. When she emerged around ten o’clock, bleary-eyed and exhausted, she often found Hale dozing on the couch after he lost his battle to stay awake. She’d climb upstairs, glad for the privacy as she got ready for bed. Shortly after she’d slip under the covers, he’d pad into the bedroom, strip down to his boxers, and join her. She didn’t have to wait long before the sound of his steady breathing indicated he’d again fallen asleep.
She loved the predictability of their routine. Life was peaceful, with none of the upheaval that used to bring her to tears or startle her boys into brittle silence.
As the days grew longer, the farm began to change. The jagged brown fields sprouted neat rows of thriving green plants. Hale was so adept at getting things to grow in this Pennsylvania soil, she began to wonder if mud flowed through his veins. For the first time in years, every spare inch of the four hundred acres surrounding her house boasted valuable crops.
The fields weren’t the only things transforming. The junk scattered around the property disappeared. Hale fixed the leaky faucet and repaired the broken cabinet in their bathroom. Best of all, he started inviting the boys outside for a game of catch after dinner. The moment the baseball thudded into their mitts, her sons’ quiet curiosity about him transformed into blatant adoration.
No wonder they liked him. He was unfailingly gentle, patient, and kind. Just as she feared, he seemed too good to be true. Did he have a dark side, like Mark? Danielle thought he must. Hale grew up with the same father, who hid his feelings under a veneer of tight-lipped reserve until he lashed out at the nearest target. Danielle suspected Hale had buried a wealth of feelings after being treated so unfairly by his family.
When would his hidden anger emerge?
They’d been married almost six weeks when the first heavy rainstorm rolled over the Allegheny Mountains and parked above the farm. A loud crack of thunder woke Danielle, but Hale slept undisturbed by the noise.
When the next boom shook the house, she wasn’t surprised when someone wearing Machine Man pajamas hurried into their room. Thanks to the glow from her clock, she could see the panicked distress on Luke’s dear face when he stood by her side of the bed.
“I’m scared, Mommy.”
To reassure him everything was all right, she squeezed his small hand. “Want to go downstairs with me? We can sit on the couch until the storm passes.”
“I don’t know,” he whimpered.
The dog whined and padded to Hale. Cocoa must have nudged him because he stirred and put on his hearing aid.
“You okay, Dani?” His voice was gravelly with sleep. He rolled toward her and spotted their visitor. “What’s wrong, Luke?”
A flash of lightning bleached the room, making Luke pale with fright. “I’m scared of thunderstorms. Can I sleep with you and Mommy?”
“Sure. Climb into bed.”
Hale’s invitation prompted Cocoa to jump onto the mattress and curl behind Hale’s legs.
<
br /> Luke laughed as the dog rested her head on Hale’s thigh.
“She’s afraid of loud noises, too,” Hale explained, giving the lab’s ear an affectionate scratch.
At the next crack of thunder, Luke scurried under the sheet.
Danielle scooted over to accommodate him and elbowed Hale in his taut belly by mistake.
He let out a grunt and rubbed his abdomen.
“Sorry,” she apologized with an embarrassed wince.
“How long until Drew arrives?” he drawled.
A smile tickled the corners of her mouth when she heard the good humor in Hale’s voice. “I doubt we’ll see my other son. Nothing ever wakes up Drew.”
“Good, because I doubt this bed can hold five of us.” Hale reached over her to tickle Luke’s ribs. “Have you got enough room, buddy?”
“No.” Luke laughed, squirming so much he bumped Danielle against Hale’s bare chest. She froze at the contact and wished she’d worn more than a tank top and shorts to bed, but in mid-May, the nights were getting warm.
She should’ve been used to her husband by now, but they’d barely touched over the past few weeks. Now they were spooning like a real married couple.
Hale seemed startled by the contact, too. After a long moment, he rested his forearm on Danielle’s waist.
She didn’t have any reason to protest, because no other place to put his arm remained now that their bed was crowded with a large dog and a squirmy kid.
A strange, euphoric feeling made her stomach feel light and giddy as she lay backed up against Hale. Were her feelings of friendship and gratitude transforming into an outright crush? Danielle lurched up on her elbow and sputtered, “We’re crammed together like a pack of sardines, Luke. Why don’t you and I go downstairs?”
“I want to stay here,” he pleaded, inching beneath the covers until just his eyes and forehead showed.
A vicious clap of thunder made Danielle flinch.
Hale’s thumb brushed against her forearm. “Are you scared, too?”
“A little,” she confessed.
“Don’t worry, Mommy. Hale will protect us.”
“You can count on that,” he echoed.
The quiet confidence in his deep voice made Danielle twist to look over her shoulder. Hale had settled back down on his pillow. The rim of his hearing aid glinted behind his ear. His eyes were closed, reminding her of how long he’d spent in the fields that day.
“You’ve been working so hard, Hale. Please tell me if you don’t have enough room to sleep. Luke and I can go downstairs.”
His arm tightened around her. “The last thing I’m gonna do is ask you to leave now that you’re close.”
She glanced at Luke, whose eyes widened as though he was surprised men said those types of things. Her boys hadn’t heard many sweet things coming from their father’s lips, particularly when Mark spoke to her.
Guilt did that to a person. The emotion made them brittle as splintered old wood.
Sobered, she put her head on the pillow and hoped Luke might mimic her attempt to fall asleep.
Her son frowned at the muscled forearm draped over her waist, jealousy flashing in his gaze. Luke opened his mouth but went mute when a bright flash of lightning painted the room white.
“Is it raining yet?” Hale asked.
“Yes.” Danielle had to raise her voice above the heavy drops thrumming against the side of the house. “Can you hear it?”
“White noise gives me trouble.” Hale’s voice vibrated in his chest, tickling her back. “Can’t hear rain, fans, or even music.”
Luke’s dark eyebrows arched. “You can’t hear music?”
“No, but that’s okay. At least, I can hear you and your mom. There was a time when I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do that.”
Luke’s lips formed a silent “oh” and his smooth brow buckled into a frown. After a moment of thought, he reached across the blanket until he touched the big hand hanging lax beside Danielle’s forearm.
Hale’s fingers opened to welcome Luke’s small palm.
Danielle swallowed hard, moved by the sensation of those two hands twined in front of her belly button. Hale seemed to have a soothing effect on everyone in the bed, because Cocoa started to snore.
At the next clap of thunder, Luke smiled at Danielle. “I’m not scared now,” he whispered.
“Good.” She kissed his forehead, smoothing her fingers through her boy’s soft hair. He smelled like candy. She suspected Hale let the boys eat chocolate before bed. The three of them looked a little too innocent when she found them rummaging in the kitchen before bath time, but she didn’t have the heart to level any accusations.
Enforcing the “no candy after dinner rule” would have been hypocritical when she had a piece of butterscotch hidden in her mouth.
They listened to the storm rage until the thunder rolled into the distance. The light patter of rain was a welcome sound, and Luke’s breathing deepened. His small hand slipped out of Hale’s and flopped onto the bed.
Lulled by the warmth radiating off the solid man behind her and the small boy nestled in front of her, Danielle blinked sleepily and looked over her shoulder at Hale. “Is it okay if Luke stays here?”
“Anything you ask.”
He twisted toward his nightstand to put away his hearing aid. When he settled back on his side, she shifted to give him room. She almost didn’t feel him lift a small tendril of hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers for a long time before letting the heavy curl fall against her shoulder.
Danielle wondered how often he bestowed those secret caresses while she was asleep.
She thought about the way Hale held her son’s hand a few moments ago. Would he hold her just as sweetly? Curious, she reached back until she touched his sturdy arm. The crisp hair furring his forearm tickled her fingertips as she slid her hand toward his thick wrist. He was big boned, the back of his hand a full inch wider than hers. The relaxed power beneath her questing touch shot a surge of wariness into her bloodstream.
Was getting closer a good idea?
Hale’s hand turned up, opening slowly.
An invitation. She grazed her index finger along his palm, discovering a callous near his thumb. This was the hand of a hardworking man. One who hadn’t poured a drop of alcohol into his mouth since he returned. Giving into temptation, she wove her fingers through his.
He claimed her hand with a meaningful squeeze, pulling her close. “Come back to me. I like when you’re near.”
At his murmur, shivers cascaded down her neck. She relaxed into his loving embrace. When he smiled against her bare shoulder, a tingling warmth radiated out from the center of her ribcage. The feeling was something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
Happiness.
****
“That chicken is nuts!” Drew yelled.
Hale heard the boy’s exclamation above the squawking bird strutting around the back yard.
“Not a problem,” Hale insisted, ducking when the irritable hen took flight and almost flew into his face.
He squared off, determined not to let her win. Lately, he’d been doing everything backwards, like marrying a woman before he had the chance to win her affection. At least he knew what to do on a farm.
One ornery chicken wasn’t going to best him. Granted, this one took him by surprise. He didn’t expect her to be so cranky. The other hens he purchased seemed delighted with the repaired coop, but this member of the flock squirted out of his grasp the moment he took her into his care.
She wasn’t too happy about being forced to be with a Cooper, a parallel similar to what Danielle must’ve felt when she had to marry him to keep the farm afloat. Hale stuffed that disturbing observation aside to focus on the task at hand. Catching a chicken wasn’t easy, and this one had fled to the back yard. Even worse, she’d attracted an audience.
The boys watched with their mouths agape, and their hollering attracted their gorgeous mother.
Hale caught t
he unmistakable glint of Danielle’s blonde hair as she joined Luke and Drew on the deck. He pulled his hand down his face, remembering how good falling asleep with his arm around her last night felt. Ever since sunrise, he’d been stumbling around the farm in a distracted state of semi-arousal.
He couldn’t wait to see if she’d let him hold her again.
Luke let out a low whistle. “That bird looks mad.”
The hen took another run at Hale.
He tried to grab her, but missed.
Cocoa trotted into view, eyeing the bird.
The agitated hen pecked at the ground, tilting her head when she spotted the lab.
If the dog walked toward him, perhaps she’d herd the bird closer. “Cocoa, come.”
The hen wasn’t falling for that. She flapped her wings and charged at Cocoa, who yelped and sprinted toward Hale.
“Whoa, girl. No!”
She put on the brakes and slid through the wet grass, clipping Hale. Losing his footing near a huge puddle, his first thought was to protect his expensive hearing aid from damage. He twisted so he landed belly first in the water, and slick mud seeped through the front of his jeans. No time for self-pity.
The hen flapped wildly as she encountered the slop.
Hale snatched the bird and stood, tucking her under his arm as he walked to the coop.
Once the cantankerous hen was settled in her new home, Hale trudged back to the house.
Cocoa trotted beside him with a rueful wag of her tail, her lower half slightly less muddy than his.
Luke and Drew watched with something akin to adulation on their faces, but their admiration did little to assuage Hale’s embarrassment over Danielle witnessing his mud bath.
Her mint green eyes widened. “Are you okay?”
Hale pretended he didn’t feel downright humiliated. “I’m fine.”
“G-good.” She flicked the curly ends of her ponytail off her shoulder and bit her lip.
He frowned. Six years ago, this sort of thing would’ve had her in stitches. Back then, he never minded making a fool out of himself if it made her giggle. What would her laughter sound like with the help of his new hearing aid?
“No wonder Cocoa panicked.” He braced a hand on his hip and acted like he wasn’t dripping in mud. “That was one vicious bird.”