by Karen Kirst
“Thank you.”
A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips, there and gone again so quickly she might’ve imagined it. Getting comfortable against the cushions, he motioned with his fingers. “Scoot closer so I can warm you up.”
Without a second thought, she nestled against him. He was like a furnace. The heat coming off his body leaked into hers, and she closed her eyes in delight. His arm came around her, and he tucked her head in the curve of his shoulder. His fingers trailed lazily, methodically, through her hair.
Rebecca felt as if this was where she belonged, where she’d always belonged but hadn’t known it.
The caress ceased. He shifted slightly away from her. “Becca, now that we’re no longer in danger, you and Amy can finally go home.”
Rebecca eased her lids open, stared at his tanned fingers splayed across his thigh. Her stomach knotted up.
“And I can get back to what I do best,” he continued.
Bracing a hand against his chest, she pushed away to look at him. “It’s too cold. What if we get another blizzard?”
“Cold doesn’t bother me.”
She couldn’t decipher his thoughts, not with that watchful guardedness, the way his features were schooled to blandness. The shadows beneath his eyes spoke of his exhaustion. She should be quiet and let him rest.
“Won’t you be lonely?” she couldn’t resist asking.
“I’ll have Rebel to keep me company.” His shrug struck her as completely natural, as if walking away from her would be the easiest thing in the world. “Besides, I’ll be back in about a month. I’m going to hire a farmhand to take care of the repairs and ongoing upkeep since I won’t be around.”
Seared by the heat blazing through his cotton shirt, she dropped her hand to her lap and twisted her fingers together. “I know we had an agreement. However, I didn’t consider the impact on your family. They will miss you horribly if you go.” I’ll miss you.
He smirked. Not the reaction she’d expected. “They’re used to me being gone. I’m sure they’ve already had their fill of me.”
“But—”
He stopped her with a finger pressed to her lips. “Stop worrying, Becca. My family will be fine. I’ll be fine. Most important, you’ll have your old life back. You’ll probably even reach the point where you’ll forget you even have a husband.”
Not possible.
His eyes darkened to burnt umber. He leaned forward, lowered his head. Her lids fluttered closed in anticipation of what was to come. Bliss. Connection. Unspoken witness to what was in her heart.
The kiss wasn’t to be. The air stirred, and she blinked to see him disengaging from the quilt and surging to his feet. She stared up at him in what was surely openmouthed dismay.
“Have you ever gotten so tired you couldn’t sleep?” Striding to the kitchen, he yanked the tin of coffee onto the counter. “I’m afraid I can’t relax. But you—” he waggled a finger her direction without sparing her a glance “—go ahead and stretch out. I’ll be quiet.”
Heart bruised and bewildered, Rebecca did as he suggested, curling up on her side so that her back was to the room. Sleep was impossible. So was baring her true feelings. Not when he was bound and determined to leave her and didn’t appear the least bit bothered by the prospect.
What was it about her that made it so easy to walk away?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Three days later, Rebecca ventured out alone, desperate to see her best friend. Meredith was as levelheaded as they came. She’d know how to put everything into perspective. That was what she was counting on, at least.
Meredith’s excited cry and all-enveloping hug brought tears to her eyes. Tears that were too near the surface ever since Caleb had made his plans clear. He was sticking to their agreement. To her growing dissatisfaction, he hadn’t bothered to ask if she’d changed her mind. She waffled between confessing all and shaking him senseless. Why did he have to go and become all responsible? Where was the hang-the-rules man she’d married?
“I’ve wanted to visit but my parents advised me to wait.” Meredith released her, only to link her arm with hers. “I was frantic with worry when I first learned about the kidnapping. Tell me everything that happened.” Concern clouded her eyes as they left the porch and walked along the path to the corral. The sun was warm on their backs, and there was no breeze to stir the cool mountain air.
Reluctant to rehash the sordid story but aware her friend was keen on details, Rebecca gave her the basic outline of what had happened. Meredith listened intently, gasping in places, frowning in others. “Caleb was so brave,” Rebecca finished.
Dark brows met over her nose. “Sounds like you both were.”
“No.” Rebecca stopped before an oak tree, aware of the pair of cardinals perched in the bare branches, a brilliant shade of red against the nearly colorless sky. “I couldn’t have survived without him, Mer. His strength kept me sane.”
“If it had to happen, I’m glad he was with you. He’s a very capable man, it seems.”
Capable. Thoughtful. A little roguish. Without him around, who was going to make her laugh? Caleb had a way of lifting the tedium of ordinary days with his smile, a teasing word, an unexpected kiss. She’d miss his vitality, the way his presence expanded the room, made the air particles dance with anticipation of what he’d do next.
“You’re looking sad,” Meredith said. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“He’s packing our things as we speak. Amy and I are returning to my parents’ cabin, and he’s going on a hunting excursion in the mountains.”
“How long will he be gone?”
“About a month. He’ll be home just long enough to hire a helper.” He hadn’t left yet, but already there was an empty space where her heart should be.
Meredith nodded decidedly. “I think you should tell him the truth, Rebecca. Tell him you want a real marriage.”
“It’s that obvious?” She gasped, horrified. Did he suspect? Did his family?
“You’re clearly miserable, my friend. And you haven’t mentioned Adam or his pretty new wife, not even once. That’s monumental.”
“You met her?”
“At church. She struck me as a genuinely nice person.”
Meredith wasn’t the type to sugarcoat matters, not even to protect a friend’s feelings. Rebecca wasn’t upset. She was well and truly over Adam Tierney. “I got the same impression. I’m happy he’s found someone he can share his life with.”
“And you’re clearly not sorry that person isn’t you.”
Disengaging, she turned and, sinking her hands in her pockets, surveyed the forested cove similar to her own. “When I think of how I went on and on about Caleb being my enemy, my immense disdain for him when he first arrived, I cringe with shame. It was more convenient and far easier to blame him for my misfortune than it was to deal with Adam’s rejection. Blaming Caleb relieved me of any responsibility in the dissolution of my engagement.”
“You weren’t entirely without compassion,” Meredith said loyally. “I was there. I saw how deep your concern went. Perhaps God used his brush with death to open your eyes to the truth.”
“Perhaps.” She’d entertained similar thoughts. “Still, I wasn’t particularly nice to him, was I? I made sure he knew he wasn’t welcome. And before we exchanged vows, I made him promise we’d have a long-distance marriage. If I go to him now and explain I’ve had a change of heart, who’s to say he’ll want to stick around? I have no idea how he feels about me. He could very well laugh in my face.”
Meredith shot her a skeptical look.
“Well, maybe not laugh. He’d let me down gently.” While he may project a tough attitude, her husband was sensitive in many ways.
“Go to him, Rebecca. Ask him what he wants. If you can’t bring yourself to do
that, you’ll have to let him go.”
* * *
The sight of the half-filled wagon outside Caleb’s cabin jarred Rebecca. He wasn’t wasting any time, was he? Was he that eager to be off?
Nerves frayed, mind pathetically blank, she found him in the kitchen placing half-eaten loaves of bread into a crate on the table. He looked up and, with a curt nod, continued his task as if on a deadline.
“How’s Meredith?” he asked over his shoulder, reaching for the jars of muscadine jelly and sorghum molasses.
“She wanted to hear my account of what happened.”
He hung his head. Then, squaring his shoulders, he pivoted to deposit the jars in the crate. With his head bent, his longish locks hid his eyes. “Are you sleeping better?”
Because they’d arrived home in the morning and slept on and off during the day, her schedule had been thrown off. The bad dreams didn’t help. She thanked God that Sam and Nathan had returned the following day, preventing Caleb from having to search for them. They, along with Sheriff Timmons and some other local men, had caught up to Wendell. Timmons and the others had continued on to the camp and arrested Samantha’s cohorts.
Crossing to the table, she gripped the chair for support. “A little.”
“I’m sure that will change once you’re in familiar surroundings. In your own bed.”
He wouldn’t even look at her. How was she supposed to bare her heart when he was acting cold and indifferent? It was as if his mind was already out there in the rugged country.
When she continued to stand there, desperately trying to come up with something to say, he motioned to the bedroom. “There’s a trunk on the bed. Thought I’d leave the packing of your clothing and personal items to you.”
“Oh.” Her throat was dry. “Okay.”
“I told Ma to have Amy ready to go in half an hour. Will that give you enough time?” His jaw was hard and unyielding. Looking at him, she could hardly reconcile him with the man who’d risked his life to save her, who’d kissed her as if her value was without equal, who’d held her in his arms, safe and warm and protected.
Emotion clogged her throat. Would she ever see that man again? Or was this forbidding stranger here to stay? “That should be sufficient.”
Steps wooden, Rebecca went into the space she’d made her own. A photo of her parents graced the nightstand, as well as her Bible and three of her favorite novels. Her clothes and shoes filled the armoire, her art supplies in the corner desk. She wasn’t certain how it had happened or when, but this cabin—Caleb’s cabin—had become her haven.
And it was all theirs. Alone.
At her family homestead, memories of Adam had lurked in the oddest places, keeping her mired in the past. In addition, memories of Caleb’s terrible injury and the dreadful things she’d been forced to do to save his life had permeated the rooms. Fear and anger and bitterness had overshadowed any joy that tried to break through.
Moving here had given them a fresh start. A sanctuary untainted by the past.
Here Caleb had presented her with her wedding ring. Surprised her with a Christmas tree and decorations because she’d been sad without one. He’d cooked for her, cared for her. Comforted her.
This was their home. This was where she longed to stay.
She was going to miss it. Dreadfully.
Rousing herself, she threw open the armoire doors and began to take the dresses off the hangers. If he’d given her a sign, a small token of encouragement—a look, a smile, a touch—she could’ve drummed up the courage to broach the subject of the agreement. He’d done nothing.
He couldn’t possibly walk away so easily if he loved her. If he felt anything close to what she felt for him.
Numb, overwhelmed with dread, she didn’t say a word as he finished loading the wagon. Nor did she breach the heavy silence as they rode across town. Normally chipper, Amy sat slumped in the wagon bed between crates, Storm curled up on her lap. It seemed neither sister had wanted to say goodbye to the O’Malley farm.
Back at her old cabin, Rebecca stood in the middle of the living room as Caleb toted everything in. He’d gruffly waved aside her offer of help. Because of their prolonged absence, a layer of dust coated nearly every surface. The tree would have to be disposed of, the decorations packed away. Mindless tasks that would hopefully distract her from her melancholy.
When the wagon was completely unloaded, he filled the doorway and announced it was time to go. “I thought it’d be more convenient for me to sleep at home tonight. That way I can bring your milk cow and old Toby over in the morning before I head out.”
He wasn’t staying? Wiping damp hands on her skirts, Rebecca frantically searched for some means of delaying the inevitable. Tell him the truth, an inner voice prodded.
“I can have breakfast ready for you,” she rushed to say. “Biscuits and gravy. Your favorite.”
His eyes landed on her face. For a moment, she thought he might agree. Gloved fingers furling and unfurling at his sides, he gave a hard shake of his head. “I can’t. I’ll be leaving long before dawn.”
“I see.” Gritting her teeth, she fought to rein in the threatening emotions. “I guess this is goodbye, then. Be safe, Caleb.” If he noticed how her voice cracked, he didn’t show it.
“You, too, Becca.”
Then he walked away without a single glance.
* * *
Caleb was a fool. More than that, he was a coward.
That’s what he’d been telling himself every day for the past two and a half weeks. Without Becca, the days bled into one another, empty and cold and pointless. He was sick of his own company. Desperate for Becca’s.
Tucked into his pallet at night, a canopy of velvet sky far above, he’d dream of her. Sometimes they were innocent. Casual, ordinary moments. Other times they were downright frightening...like Becca dashing through the mountains trying to escape Wendell and Samantha. Either way, he woke with a throbbing ache in his chest and the distinct feeling he was missing out on something precious by staying away.
I’m honoring her wishes, he told himself every time he was tempted to return. The bargain I struck at her request.
He hadn’t been able to venture far. In the midst of preparing to leave, he’d failed to ask his family to watch out for her. Maybe it was an excuse to be near her. Whatever the case, he’d resumed his role of anonymous donor. Once a week, he returned to her cove and left his offering strung on a nail inside the barn, safe from predators.
This evening he’d brought a single rabbit. Dusk was sinking into full-on darkness, the perfect cover. As he left the forest behind and strode quickly across the expanse, he kept his gaze trained on the cabin. Yellow light glowed in the windows. Wisps of thin smoke curled from the chimney.
He had to act fast. Before Becca or Amy discovered him. Before his willpower disintegrated, and he stormed inside and swept her into his arms.
Hesitating at the barn door, he pressed his ear against the wood and strained for sound. No voices reached him. No active movement that indicated someone was inside tending chores.
The rabbit dangling near his knees, he tried to ease the rickety door open but it snagged on a mound of raised earth. It took a little maneuvering, but he was finally able to get it closed. With a sigh, he turned around and found himself staring into a pair of striking jade eyes that haunted his waking hours. Eyes that were rapidly filling with suspicion.
“I can explain.” Holding up a hand, he winced at his choice of words.
Becca studied the dead animal. “It’s you, isn’t it? It’s been you all along.”
Unable to help himself, he took a step closer. The sight of her, her sweet scent, wreaked havoc with his restraint. “I was simply trying to help.”
“That’s why Rebel made his way here in the snowstorm,” she said with dawning under
standing. “He knew the way because he’d been here dozens of times before.”
“I should’ve told you, I know.” He laid the rabbit on the ground. Removing his hat and flinging it onto a nearby hay square, he jammed his fingers through his hair to keep from reaching for her. Being within arm’s length of his wife after a torturous absence was testing every shred of his self-control. “But I don’t always do what I should. We both know that.”
Her eyes suddenly shimmering, she whispered, “I do know that.”
A resigned sigh shuddered through him. “How’ve you been, Becca?”
“Miserable.”
A tear tracked down her pale cheek and dripped from her jaw onto her shawl. Alarm speared through him. “What? Why?”
“Because you did the honorable thing. Because I knew if you didn’t truly want to go, you wouldn’t have.”
Shock winged through him to the tips of his toes. “Hold on a second. Are you telling me you’re upset because I did what you asked me to?”
She bit her lip. “Yes.”
“I think you’d better explain, Rebecca.” If there was a harsh edge to his demand it was because he was desperately trying not to let hope take root.
“I’m miserable because I’m a coward. Because on your last day here, I tried a million different times to tell you...to ask you...” Her eyes squeezed shut. She looked unnerved. Becca didn’t do unnerved.
Absurdly, that bolstered his courage. “Ask me what?”
Squaring her shoulders, she stared deep into his eyes. Lifted both hands, which he noticed weren’t quite steady. When she cradled his face, he forced himself to stand very still, to let her come to him. His chest heaved as if he’d just finished a race. Slowly, she went up on her tiptoes and, before he could react, placed a featherlight kiss on the scarred flesh fanning out from his right eye. Astonishment rendered him speechless even as a violent shudder racked his body.
Easing back, Rebecca’s hands slid down to rest on his shoulders. “Will you stay with me, Caleb?”