“Please receive me.” His lungs heaved as though he had run a long distance.
“Why?”
“I need to speak with you.”
Annoyance beat through my heart, warming my whole body as it bubbled. I studied his eyes, the same eyes I missed last night for unknown reasons. A lump caught in my throat as tears threatened.
“I hath nothing to say to you.” I began to shut the door, but he blocked it with his hand.
“Emmalynn, please. I need to speak to you.”
“What could you possibly hath to say to me?”
He exhaled a deep sigh, gazing into my eyes with a fierce, captivating sorrow that knocked the breath from my lungs and my legs off balance. “I hath so much to say to you, ‘tis nearly too much to reflect upon.”
“I do not know if I should allow you in,” I said flatly. “Not this time.”
“Why?”
“Because, I simply . . . I simply . . . do not know if I should allow you.”
“Please, I just want to speak to you.” His eyebrows furrowed together creating a miserable crinkle in his forehead. “If you still wish for me to leave when I am finished, I will do so per thy request. Just please, give me a few moments.”
My stomach twisted with the thought of repeating my refusal. I no more desired to shut the door than he desired it shut in his face. Perhaps, he had reasons for his absence, or perhaps he did not, nevertheless, I could not deny I desired to know.
I slowly stepped away from the door, opening it wider so he could enter.
As I shut it behind him, he caught my arm and twirled me around to face him. His grip was fierce, but not meant to cause pain. Passionate, and seductive, every emotion radiated from every muscle in his body.
I braced myself against the door and pushed on his chest with my free hand. I would not allow him to distract me with a kiss. Not this time.
As soon as the palm of my hand pressed against him, he softened his advance, heaved another sigh, and retreated a few steps, nodding his head with a silent understanding.
“I saw Sheriff Corwin leave with Doctor Griggs, Reverend Perris, and Deacon Pruett. Why did they visit?”
“So, that is the reason you decided to come here?”
“No, I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“Why?” Embarrassment flared through my flushed cheeks. “Why hold any concern for me at all, Mr. DeKane?”
“Why would I not?”
“For a man who does not wish for a lady’s hand in marriage, you certainly entertain said lady quite often.” I glanced away from him. Tears stung my eyes. No, you will not cry. You will not cry. I bit my lip and met his gaze. “Just admit them, Mr. DeKane, admit where thy feelings lie for Mary and for me.”
James opened his mouth, but did not speak a word. He only gaped at me for a few moments before he knelt in front of me, and grabbed my hands to stop me from turning away from him.
“Emmalynn, please, I never meant to give you the impression that I thought of you with such little regard. I apologize that I did. Quite honestly, my feelings toward you are just the opposite. I do not care for Mary, not in the slightest. ‘Tis you, I care for, and only you.”
“If such is true then where were you last night? Were you forced into dinner with her parents, while she gushed about thy marriage ceremony and how much more exciting hers will be over Olivia’s?” I jerked my hand from his.
My tone oozed annoyance with a hint of shameful disrespect.
“No.”
“Or, perhaps, then you were trapped in a bundling sack in her bed, with her lying next to you, unable to free yourself?”
“No.”
“If thy intentions do not lie with her, why do you spend time in her company? Or, is it that you enjoy kissing her and enjoy thy afternoon strolls around the village, parading thy courtship. Why do you spend time with her?”
He stared at the ground, slowly inhaling and exhaling while I paced and seethed through my tirade. His face calm, his answers calm, he knelt on my floor with his arms at his side, once again baring witness to my ability to rage for minutes on end, without securing a breath or a moment to consider the words spewing from my mouth.
I played the child tantrum, and I loathed it. Nevertheless, the stress of not knowing his whereabouts, his reasons for not visiting, and the fact I lied to four powerful men severed the logic in my emotions. The damn broke, leaving frustration, fear, and sorrow to flood rampantly and crush everything in its path.
“I was not with Mary last night.”
“Then, where were you, if you were not with her?” My voice roared through the four walls of my home.
“At my home with my brother and sister.”
I caught my breath. “Thou . . . thou hath a brother and a sister?”
“Yes, I do, but my sister is very ill, and I do not know how much longer she will be with us.” Numbed pain and desperation sparkled through his eyes, leaving a gaze that buckled my knees.
I leaned against the wall for balance. “How old is she?”
“Nearly eleven years old.” He cleared his throat. “And, she will die of consumption, soon, I suspect. I planned to visit you after the wedding as soon as I got away from Mary. Believe me, I did, but I traveled home to see to her needs first.”
He paused and drew in a deep breath. “She had a rough morning and afternoon, and I could not leave, not when she was so ill. We thought . . . we thought she would . . . but she lived through the night.”
I closed my eyes and spun away from him as I pinched my arm. Guilt slapped me in the face, twisting in my stomach.
How could I be so cruel?
“My apologies for accusing you of being with Mary.”
“I do not expect you to know any different since you did not know of my family. My first suspicion would hath been the same as thine.”
“Nevertheless, I should not hath been so callous. I know what ‘tis like to lose family. ‘Tis an agony you do not know if you will ever recover from, or survive.”
James’s eyebrows furrowed. He rose to his feet, sauntered across the room to one of the windows, and opened the shutter just enough to glimpse the street.
“Why did Sheriff Corwin and the others visit you today?”
“He asked about the peddler who owned the cow. Although, I do not think that was the reason for his questions.” I shrugged my shoulders and strode into the kitchen to fetch the water bucket to make tea.
“Why do you think that?”
“All of them seemed far more interested in whether or not I had encountered anyone else along the road that morning. They also asked if I felt ill or had seen peculiar behavior around the village.”
“And, what did you tell them?”
“I told them that aside from you, I saw no one else that day, nor hath I noticed anything.”
“Why did you speak untruthfully to them?”
The bucket handle slipped through my fingers and tumbled to the ground, spilling water on the floor as the bucket rolled. I spun on my heel to face James. My shoe slipped in the puddle and I clutched the table to steady my balance.
James rushed for a rag while I untied my apron to sop up the water. He knelt next to me and grasped my hand. “Why did you speak untruthfully to them?”
I held my breath and clenched my teeth. “I . . . I—”
“I know you told untruths to them, just like you told untruths to me that day.”
“How do you . . .” I stared at him.
“Because, the tall man and young girl you saw walking along the road was my brother and my sister.”
My rump hit the floor.
James heaved a deep sigh, reached up to my face, then tucked a few of my short curls behind my ear. “Why did you speak untruthfu
lly to them?” His tone held a level of gratitude along with concern.
“I do not know why.”
“I would hate for you to face a punishment for thy treason.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Why do you keep thy family a secret?”
James inhaled a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he rose to his feet. He fetched the tea kettle along with another bucket of water near the hearth, avoiding my question just as I had avoided his concern one second ago.
I opened my mouth to ask again, but instinct told me to reconsider.
The hesitation in his response spoke words he never uttered. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts, needed a moment of peace before he had to explain a situation that clearly caused him strife. He needed silence.
After filling the kettle, he hooked the handle above the fire, and then strode over to me with his hand outstretched for me to take. He helped me rise off the floor and led me over to the table before he sat next to me and drew another deep sigh.
“My sister is ill, but beyond her illness, she is different. She was born with skin as pale as snow and she is exactly what she appears to the outside world—a girl born without color. Did you not notice that when you saw her?”
“No, I noticed,” I whispered.
“Growing up, my parents hid her to protect her. They feared that people would kill her if they discovered her existence. Their deaths exposed her to the world for all to see.” The crease in his forehead deepened along with sadness in his eyes. “My brother and I fled with her in the middle of the night, just before the horde came to seize her.”
I knew the image running through his mind. One of a chanting crowed, waving their lit torches coming for an innocent victim.
“My brother and I hath long since accepted our responsibility in her protection, although, seclusion has never suited Logan well.” He chuckled to himself, amused with his own thoughts for a moment before his smile vanished. “I suppose he will not hath to suffer long. Nothing but death looms for my sister with her fever.”
James leaned toward me in his chair. He squeezed my hand again while his other hand stroked my arm, tracing along my skin with a touch, so soft in seduction. I closed my eyes. My longing stole my breath.
Adalene’s words echoed through my memory. You love him. Whether you know it or not, deep down you do. You just hath not faced the truth yet.
I inhaled a sharp breath with my thoughts and the validity of her words. Always one to conceal my feelings, I could not do so now.
And, I did not wish to.
I grabbed a fist full of his shirt and drew him toward me. Both of our chairs skidded across the floor as we shoved them backwards and knelt on the floor. He grabbed my waist and kissed me with a perfect kiss, one I never wanted to end. I wrapped my arms around him, while his hands wandered, the pressure of his fingers shuddered through both of us until he, hesitantly pulled away from me.
He smiled and delicately shook his head.
I snorted a giggle and nodded.
Our wordless banter, mutually understood.
“Thank you for protecting my family,” he whispered as his finger traced my lips. “You did not hath to and you did, and such kindness doth not go unappreciated.”
“You are welcome.”
“And, I apologize for not visiting as I told you I would.” The regret in his eyes spurred the twinge of guilt already pulsing through my veins.
“I apologize for my accusations.”
“You do not hath to apologize. I do not blame you for holding onto such thoughts, especially, when I showed no reason for you not too. I should hath visited or sent word of my whereabouts and intentions. The fault is mine.”
My eyes followed the angles of his jaw, the way they curved into his neck, and followed the lines down to his broad shoulders and strong arms. Their distracting allure sent my heart racing.
A single straight lock of his hair fell against his forehead and eyelashes. Without thinking, I reached for it, clasping it softly between my fingertips as I gently brushed it away from his eye. He smiled and I withdrew my hand, shaking my head a little with the realization of my unconscious action and giggled with embarrassment.
He said nothing, not a single word in response, only smiled again, and inhaled a deep breath that he held for a few moments before letting it out slowly.
“You are so incredibly beautiful.” His voice a mere whisper on his perfect lips as he lifted his own hand and stroked my cheek with his fingers. “Did you know that?”
Unable to look into his deep blue eyes, I tucked my own short curls behind my ears and crossed my arms as I shrugged my hunched shoulders. Certainly, any compliment he bestowed flattered me, but hearing his bespoken words rushed heat to the shells of my ears.
“You do not like compliments, do you?”
“I just hath not often received them.”
“Did thy husband not tell you that you are?”
“Um, I . . . I think he did . . . once, maybe twice.”
“Once or twice?” He shook his head with his eyebrows furrowed. “He should hath told you every day. I know I would hath.”
I ran my fingers through my hair again, nervously tucking the already tucked stands behind my ears as my eyes darted to the floor. He reached toward me, and his fingers followed mine through my hair, around my ears, tracing down my jaw line then my neck once more before he lifted my chin so my eyes met his.
“Or, should I say, I know I will tell you every day,” he whispered.
“Thou will?”
“Such is my intention, if you allow me.” One of his eyebrows raised and a bashful smile spread across his lips. “I do not wish to end our time with one another; however, those are my feelings. I do not know yours.”
I inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled slowly in hopes to bestow him just a few moments of torture and worry over my hesitation. Would I declare that I wished for him to remain in my life, or to leave me alone?
Certainly, I never wanted him to leave. However, with my thoughts—those wonderful thoughts of us together, waiting for the chance at freedom—the reality of the world outside silenced me.
Mary silenced me.
Deacon Pruett silenced me.
We could not hath forever together. And, that thought punched a hole in my chest, leaving me gasping for breath.
No, we could not hath forever, but, perhaps, we could hath, at least, an afternoon.
“Would you care for some tea?” I asked.
TEN
“You are awfully quiet all of a sudden,” James whispered as he sat on the floor next to me and handed me a cup of tea.
“Just lost in thought.”
“I must admit that I hath grown an attachment for the thing.” He pointed toward the vine sprouted on the other side of us as he sipped his cup.
Our one afternoon stretched into the darkness of the night and through the next morning. Hours spent with dinner of stew by candlelight, conversation until we fell asleep, and breakfast, sitting on the floor, in the corner, surrounded by the vine.
Dozens upon dozens of black roses bloomed from the new stems that sprouted in the wee hours of the morning while we slept. Their perfect petals, mocked me, and yet, drew me into their beauty with a mesmerizing trance.
I did not know if James wondered or worried about the unexplained dark magic. Surely, curiosity caught the better of him once or twice, and he would touch a few of the blossoms, watching them bounce from his nudge. Instead of recoiling from it, he only gazed upon it with a smirk on his lips, as though he and the plant shared a secret all to themselves.
“I could sit here with you all day,” he sighed, and laid down upon the floor, staring up at the ceiling.
“Me, too.”
In the hours of the time spent with
him, love replaced my lust. Feelings I never thought possible were possible, and the lighted beacon of hope that I believed died long ago, burned as bright as the candles around the room.
I loved the man in front of me. My desire and passion drew into a deeper level of my soul—a wonderful sensation that left me breathless with excitement, and yet, terrified with endless waves of panic and the ever-present, nagging feeling of dread and anxiousness.
“But, I know we cannot.” Disappointment oozed through my tone. I wanted to relish in the changing wind that swept across my world, but forces beyond my power stopped me. “Or, shall I say we cannot, together?”
“Eventually, chores would force us to venture outside.” He chuckled at his thought.
I stared into my cup. Did he not fear another’s wrath or hold concern for our plight?
“Emmalynn? Care to tell me the thoughts that are obviously on thy mind?” He sat up and slid close to me.
I shook my head. The truth sat upon the tip of my tongue, but I could not utter the words.
“Doth thy shame concern you or our sin?”
My eyes met his. “Neither.”
“Then, why wage the war against thyself?” He reached up and brushed a few curls that fell into my eyelashes. “I learned long ago that despite my character, people will either accept me or hold my actions against me. No matter their choice, though, I live my life how I desire.”
His calmness was like a light in the darkness, a strong body to cling to in bad weather, and a rock that could hold the weight of the world. Yet, with the brawn came a sincere softness that dwelled equally in him, balancing him to a man unlike anyone I hath ever known.
I envied that.
But, I also feared that.
“To say such as you say, to cast aside consequence for desire . . . ‘tis a whole other truth I cannot face,” I said.
When the Black Roses Grow Page 10