by Karen Kirst
I want him to be happy.
The thought whispered across her heart like the gentle sweep of a paintbrush.
I’m tired of seeing him suffer.
Surely there were ways to make his life better without falling for the man.
Chapter Nineteen
This was his best Christmas.
Not because of the socks or scarves or pecan pie. Not because he was surrounded by loved ones instead of alone on a mountaintop.
It was all due to a gorgeous, green-eyed female who happened to be wearing his wedding ring.
This was also his worst Christmas. Because next year he wouldn’t be here. His wife and sister-in-law would spend the holiday with his family, without him. And he’d know exactly what he was missing.
Taking advantage of Rebecca’s momentary solitude—his cousins had dominated her time since the opening of presents began—he slipped his arm through hers.
“Come with me.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Where?”
“Anywhere there aren’t people around.”
Her brows went up, but a smile played at the corners of her lush mouth. “That might be hard to do.”
“Back porch.”
Winding their way through the crowd, they passed through the narrow dining area and into the kitchen. Sure enough, no one else had ventured outside. Becca rubbed her arms as her breath came in white puffs.
“Want me to get your cape?”
Drifting to the railing, attention riveted to the rolling fields and mountains spread out before them, she shook her head. “I can manage without it for a bit.”
Leaning against the railing so that he faced her, he was relieved to note the redness about her eyes had disappeared and her color had returned. Seeing her anguish had made him ache with helplessness. “You were upset earlier. I’d like to know why. Did my family make you uncomfortable? Did I do something to hurt your feelings?”
A line appeared between her brows. “Your family has been wonderful. So have you.” She studied the muted green grass beyond the railing. “I miss my parents, that’s all.”
“This is your second Christmas without them.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do or say to make it better.” But he couldn’t. He knew that. And next year he wouldn’t be around to hold her hand. Regret twisted his gut.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Caleb jerked at the sound of Nathan’s voice. He’d been so absorbed in Becca that he hadn’t heard his approach. What if it had been one of Samantha’s hired goons? Good way to get them both killed. How about I get my head out of the clouds?
He turned his head to glare at his too-cheerful brother. “Yes, you are. Go away, Nate.”
Becca’s hand came to rest on his sleeve. Peering past him, she smiled at Nathan. “Don’t listen to him. Have you been to see the new calf?”
Nathan climbed the porch steps and propped a shoulder against the notched-log wall, a maddening grin on his face. “Sure have. He’s doing fine.” His gaze lowered to where Becca clutched Caleb’s arm. “I see you finally got your wedding rings.”
Becca’s hand fell away. “It was a Christmas gift.”
“Good thinking, little brother.”
“Is there anything specific you wanted, Nate?” Caleb prompted, irritated for wanting time alone with Becca but unable to deny himself.
Chuckling, Nate straightened and reached for the door. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Wait.” Hugging her middle, Becca’s tone grew serious. “I never got a chance to thank you for what you did for us.”
Nathan’s gaze turned quizzical. “I don’t understand.”
“After my parents’ passing, you were one of the few people who continued to check on Amy and me. Your kindness made our grief easier to bear. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before.”
Stomach going queasy, Caleb stared at his boots.
Nathan shifted his stance. “Um, about that...”
Caleb’s head popped up, and he shot him a don’t you dare stare.
Massaging his neck, Nathan sighed. “I have to be honest. It wasn’t my idea to visit you.”
“Nathan,” Caleb warned, deliberately not looking at Becca.
“Oh. I—I didn’t realize.” Shifting slightly away from Caleb, she studied his profile. “Whose idea was it?”
“I think I’ll let my brother fill you in on the particulars.” In a moment, he was gone, the door closed firmly behind him.
“You put him up to it, didn’t you?” she asked softly.
Caleb straightened, set his shoulders. “I needed to know that you were all right.”
“Why not come yourself?”
He raised his head and stared at her. “The same reason I didn’t let you see me at the funeral. I didn’t want to cause you more grief.”
“So you sent Nathan in your place.”
“Yes.”
“I had no idea.”
“Are you angry?”
“Angry? Because you cared about my well-being? No.” Standing very close to him, wide eyes shining with gratitude and something more he couldn’t name, she cupped his cheek. “The truth is, I’m not surprised. Not now that...” She trailed off, apparently unwilling to finish her sentence. “Thank you, Caleb. I’ll never forget what you did.”
* * *
Rebecca escaped inside before she did something rash, like hugging her husband and refusing to let go. Ever.
He hadn’t been indifferent. He’d cared. Not only had he attended the funeral, he’d sent his brother in his stead to check on them. She should’ve guessed.
“This is where I’ve been sleeping.” Amy, who’d snagged her in the kitchen and brought her upstairs, ran a finger along the single bed frame that used to be Josh’s. “Look at the view.” Smiling, she pointed to the window overlooking the apple orchard. Rounded mountain peaks rose in silent majesty. “Isn’t it grand?”
Rebecca smiled at her enthusiasm, glad her sister was content staying with Sam and Mary.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” she felt compelled to warn. “This is only temporary. We’ll be returning to our place as soon as the sheriff deems it safe.”
Probably for the best. Uninterrupted time alone with her husband was having a peculiar effect on her. At night, her dreams were filled with him. Unable to recall the exact nature of the dreams, she woke with a feeling of deep dissatisfaction, longing for something she couldn’t identify.
Amy turned to her with a slight frown. The afternoon light emphasized the freckles smattered across her nose. “I like it here. I like having my own room. I like the animals, the fact you can see for miles. The truth is, spending time with Caleb’s parents makes me miss ours less. Does that mean I’m a horrible person?”
“Oh, Amy, no.” Rebecca pulled the shorter girl into a hug and smoothed her loose hair. “Not at all. I—I think they’d be happy we’re part of a new family. They wouldn’t want us to be alone or sad.”
Amy returned the hug. “But we can’t stay here, can we?”
“No. However, we can visit anytime. Sam and Mary have made that clear.”
“Amy?” Will appeared in the doorway. “We’re starting a game of charades downstairs. Wanna play?”
“Sure.”
Glad her sister had someone close to her own age around, Rebecca followed the pair down the hallway. A buzz of voices drifted up the stairs. Passing by the last bedroom on the left, Rebecca caught sight of Nicole with a sewing project in her lap. No surprise there. The raven-haired beauty was a whiz with a needle and in great demand around these parts. At eighteen, Nicole O’Malley was more goal-oriented, more driven, than most folks twice her age.
She was very dif
ferent than her sisters—not only in appearance, but in personality. While Juliana, Megan and the twins were friendly and approachable, it was as if a visible barrier surrounded Nicole that warned others to keep their distance. It wasn’t that she was unkind. Just difficult to engage and a little aloof.
She’s family now, which means I should make an effort to befriend her.
Crossing the polished wooden floors, Rebecca sank onto the edge of the bed across from the rocker. “That’s a beautiful shade of green.” She pointed at what looked to be a dress.
Nicole’s bow-shaped mouth twitched in what might’ve been a smile. “I’m glad you like it. It’s your wedding present.”
Rebecca’s mouth fell open. Not the response she was expecting. “Honestly?”
The younger girl nodded, coal-black ringlets sliding along her butter-colored bodice. Her attention never left her needle. “Megan purchased the material, and Jane and Jessica donated the trim and buttons. She chose the perfect color. It will look amazing with your eyes.”
Flattered, she simply thanked her.
Nicole lifted a dainty shoulder. “I would have liked to have it finished by today, but my new position at Clawson’s is eating into my sewing time.”
“Caleb mentioned you’d started there. How do you like it?”
“It’s bearable. I’m gaining valuable experience,” she said, as if that surprised her.
“Have you thought of what you will call your boutique?”
Striking violet eyes lifted to Rebecca’s face. “You’re the first person to ask me that. As if you truly believe I’ll actually have one someday.”
“You’re talented.” She gestured to the dress in Nicole’s lap. “Not to mention smart and passionate about your dream. Why wouldn’t you succeed?”
Grimacing slightly, Nicole pressed a hand to her temple. “I don’t have any prospective names yet,” she murmured, avoiding the question. “I’ll let you know what I come up with. Perhaps you can help me choose.”
“I’d be happy to.” Something seemed off, her usual confidence conspicuously absent, but Rebecca wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Wasn’t as if they were best friends. Did Nicole even have a best friend?
Pushing upward, Rebecca said, “I’ll leave you to your work. Thanks again for the wedding gift.”
“We didn’t get Caleb anything,” she slyly remarked, “but I figure seeing you in this dress will be gift enough for him.”
“Oh, no, it’s not like that with us....” she hotly denied.
“When you’re sewing in the company of others, you tend to tune out their conversations. You learn to hear what people are really saying through their movements, their changes in breathing and facial expressions. I know my cousin and, for him, it is like that.”
Rebecca fought the need to ask exactly what she’d seen in Caleb’s behavior that would lead her to such a conclusion.
“And as irritating as Caleb can be sometimes,” Nicole said, and maintained eye contact, “I’d like to see him find peace.”
Peace. Happiness. “I’d like that, too.”
Problem was, she failed to see how a union such as theirs would ever result in those things.
Chapter Twenty
Caleb carried the last pail of milk to the rear barn wall and poured it into the waiting crocks lined up on the shelf. His thigh trembled with strain. His fingers were stiff from milking all the cows himself. He thought about the hunting trips he’d taken these past couple of years, the countless weeks he’d left Nathan to shoulder the weight of their dairy business alone. He’d consoled himself with the knowledge he was contributing to the family’s food supply. Couldn’t make up for his physical presence, though, could it? Nathan had needed help, yet he’d never attempted to guilt Caleb into staying.
Mopping his brow with a handkerchief, he secured the lids onto the crocks and went to wash his hands in the barrel. In the stalls lined up on either side of the center aisle behind him, the cows munched on hay, the scent of warm milk familiar and soothing. While he appreciated some aspects of his vagabond lifestyle, nothing could beat the satisfaction that came with working his own land, land that had been in their family for generations—a heritage he was increasingly reluctant to relinquish.
Careful, O’Malley. Thoughts like those could unleash a firestorm of dangerous yearnings...for family, home and hearth, constancy. All things I don’t deserve.
One of the double doors swung open, admitting a blast of blustery air that whipped his hair across his forehead and pressed his pant legs against his boots. Becca entered the lofty structure, her graceful form cloaked in her thick wool cape, and he tamped down the immediate pleasure her presence evoked. This move to his cabin—and their uninterrupted privacy—had only served to deepen his awareness of her and stir emotions better left locked away.
Threading the hair out of his eyes, he moved forward to greet her. “You’re up early.”
Considering their late night, he’d assumed she would need extra sleep. They’d stayed at his parents’ until nearly midnight, playing games, singing carols and eating insane amounts of food. And I loved every minute of it, didn’t I? Because anything shared with Becca was better than if I were alone.
“Did you eat breakfast?”
“Yes, I found the plate you left out for me.” She smiled, and he thought how fortunate he was to be on the receiving end of that spectacular smile. He’d never tire of it.
She must’ve noticed how he placed all of his weight on his good leg, because the good humor faded. “Are you in pain?” She observed the animals in stalls on either side of the aisle and the crocks that needed to be delivered to the mercantile. “You really shouldn’t be doing this alone. From now on, I want you to wake me so that I can help.”
“I’m fine. And while I appreciate your offer, there’s no need. Nathan normally comes over to milk, but I told him to take the morning off.”
“You can’t expect to do the chores here and at my place, too. Not with your leg still on the mend.”
“Your place? I thought it was our place?”
“Don’t try and distract me, Caleb.” Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me, when is Doc Owens coming to check the wound? Because if it’s not today, we’re paying him a visit in town.”
“It’s today.” Thankfully. Without knowing what evidence, if any, Shane had gathered concerning the gang’s whereabouts, he wasn’t about to let her anywhere near town.
“Oh, really? What time?”
“You sound as if you don’t believe me....” He sauntered closer, his defenses weakening as they always did whenever she was around. His need to be near her was stronger than the voice of caution inside his head.
Becca jutted her chin. “Time?”
“Between the hours of one and four were his exact words. Satisfied?”
“I will be present for this examination.”
“I don’t think so.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand. “However, you’re welcome to interrogate Doc afterward.” His gaze snagged on a piece of paper she held behind her back. “What’s that?”
Uncertainty flitted across her face, and his curiosity inched up a notch.
“I wasn’t snooping through your things, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she rushed to say, the paper fluttering with her gestures. “It’s just that I...well, your saddlebag was lying open beside the door and this would’ve fallen out if I hadn’t—”
Snatching it from her, he glanced at the drawing he’d kept with him since the day she’d given it to him. A drawing of himself—before the scar—and Rebel.
“Why do you carry it with you?” she said. “To remind yourself of happier times?”
“No. It’s a warning to never be that stupid and reckless again.”
“Caleb.” Shadows darkened her eyes. “We all
make mistakes.”
He skimmed a fingertip over the likeness of his younger, unblemished face. “Sorry you got shackled with a freak.”
“Don’t say that.” His head jerked up at the undisguised anger in her voice. “Back then, you were too handsome for your own good. Some would even say a bit cocky.” Time seemed to slow as she lifted her fingers to his face, lightly exploring the twisted, puckered skin. Caleb stood frozen, afraid to blink, loath to breathe. His heart bucked, and every nerve ending in his body stood to attention. The tenderness in her expression mesmerized him. “The scar makes you interesting. Gives your face character.”
“Character, huh?” His voice resembled a rusty gate.
“I’d like to do another portrait of you.”
“What?” Startled, he stumbled back. “No.”
She tilted her head. “Why not?”
He pointed to the scar. “Why would I want this captured on paper?”
“Caleb, I—”
She didn’t get to finish because Meredith burst through the doors, all smiles and oblivion and hauling a basket overflowing with goodies. “Here you are! When I went to the main house searching for you, Mary told me I might find you here. I know I’m not due for another hour, but I couldn’t wait another minute to bring you and Amy your Christmas presents.” She folded Becca in her arms. “I feel like it’s been a lifetime since we’ve talked.”
Giving them space, Caleb moved to the corner, carefully refolding the drawing.
“I’ll be in the cabin if you need me,” Becca told him, clearly torn between frustration and eagerness to spend time with her friend.
“Enjoy your visit.”
“We’ll finish our conversation later.”
“As you wish, darling wife.” He bowed like a servant before his queen.
Despite Meredith’s look of uncertainty, Becca’s smile held a silent promise. “Oh, I do wish, dear husband. Until later.”