Twice Loved

by Wendy Lindstrom

  “I asked if you’re all right.”

  “I—” She clutched her throat and coughed. “I’m sorry,” she squawked, her voice ragged.

  “You’re sorry?” He raked his hair back with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again!”

  Her glance flew to his face. “Danger?”

  Their gazes locked and he gave a solemn nod.

  “What is wrong with you?” she asked.

  He shook his head then with a miserable groan, he buried his face in his hands. “Things you don’t want to know.”

  That low, agonized confession pierced her heart. No one deserved the mental torment she had witnessed as he thrashed upon his mattress. “You... you won’t attack me if I stay, will you?” She perched indecisively on the edge of the bed, ready to bolt if he didn’t answer immediately.

  Radford sighed and lifted his head, his eyes dark, hurting. “No, Evelyn.” Slowly, he reached out and cupped her jaw, drawing his thumb across her cheek. “I would never intentionally hurt you. I’m sorry that I did.”

  Her skin came alive beneath his touch. His gentle caress and remorseful, searching gaze brought her compassion soaring to life. “Would it help to talk about it?”

  He shook his head and lowered his hand to the mattress.

  “I’m a good listener.”

  A melancholy smile touched his lips. “I’m sure you are.”

  “Do you have nightmares often?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted him to confide in her. Something told her the less she knew about Radford Grayson, the safer she’d be. And he certainly wasn’t dressed for conversation.

  “Not every night.” He held her gaze. “I shouldn’t disturb your sleep often.”

  “I wasn’t worried about my sleep. I... I’m worried about you.” Embarrassed by her bold words, she ducked her head, shielding her eyes behind the curtain of her hair.

  The mattress shifted and Radford leaned forward to brush her hair back.

  Surprised by his touch, she glanced up, her gaze tangling with his. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she said. “I don’t think you’re unsafe.”

  “You probably think I’m insane and I wouldn’t blame you.” He gave her a self-effacing smile. “Maybe I am.” With infinite tenderness, he touched the abused area of her throat, searching her eyes until her heart pounded and the air crackled with tense silence. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said.

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did,” he insisted softly. His gaze floated over her and his expression grew troubled, as though a complete stranger suddenly appeared before him. “I hadn’t imagined you like this,” he said, his voice quiet, his eyes intense. “Not like this.”

  Chapter Four

  As the first rays of dawn crept through the apple trees, Radford lifted his face to the warm caress of morning air and took a good look around his new home.

  The stone fence girding the front yard had surrendered to a thick tangle of morning glory vines. In several areas the rocks had given way and would need to be rebuilt. He eyed the house. A few new boards and a fresh coat of paint on the porch and balcony would save William’s house from appearing rundown. Though the barn was also losing paint and the livery sign dangled from one nail above crooked double doors, it was a solid structure needing minor repairs. The horse shelter in the paddock behind the barn was rotted beyond saving and would have to be replaced.

  It would be enough work to keep Radford busy, to keep his mind off his nightmares and the sweet sound of his father’s sawmill beckoning in the distance. For a while, the fecund smell of hay and horses would have to replace the scent of fresh-cut pine. He could live with that for now.

  With new resolve, he pushed open the livery door and came up short when he saw Evelyn wrestling with the oversized chain she had borrowed from Kyle. Radford intended to apologize to her for his behavior last night, but had no idea how to explain his appalling actions. It wasn’t only the nightmare that had unnerved him, he was used to waking up in that state of panic. It had been Evelyn’s presence. He couldn’t believe that the woman perched on the side of his bed in a thin nightrail with waves of gorgeous hair tumbling around her slim hips was really Evelyn.

  To think he’d be spending each day working beside her was distressing, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that he would be kept busy with customers. They would come from morning to late evening to stable their horses or have them shod, others would want to rent rigs and mounts. Inevitably, he would cross paths with Evelyn while doing their daily chores of grooming animals, cleaning stalls, oiling harnesses, and making repairs, but when their day ended, Radford would go help Kyle build his house. He might have to share the burden of livery work with Evelyn, but that’s all they would share.

  He would forget about last night and how beautiful she’d looked.

  “If you need something to do, I could use help with this,” Evelyn said, whacking her hands against her britches. She sat on a stump of wood beside the iron-encased wooden wheel and stared at it with a defeated sigh. “I need to take this to the blacksmith, but I can’t get it off without lifting the axle.”

  Glad that she had provided an easy way to begin a conversation, Radford looked at the beam twelve feet over his head. “How did you get that chain over the rafter? You could barely get it to the wagon yesterday.”

  “I tied it to a rope and pulled it over. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough strength to pull the carriage off the ground, and I’ve already loosened the hub,” she said with disgust, giving the wheel a whack with her hand.

  The carriage shifted and the iron links grated as they slipped against the axle. “Look out!” he yelled, lunging forward to reach around Evelyn and steady the carriage. His chest brushed her back and he smelled soap and hay on her hair. “Put your stool under the axle,” Radford instructed, nodding toward an old hickory stump that she was sitting on.

  Reacting quickly, she rose up and wrestled the thick stump from beneath her. Radford concentrated on the chain afraid it might slip further and cause the carriage to fall on the unsecured wheel.

  Evelyn pushed the thick block of wood beneath the axle then turned to him, her face only inches away. “I’ll hold the block steady while you tighten the chain.”

  “No. You’ll get hurt if that axle pulls from the hub.” He gripped the chain and wondered if it was his hand or the metal beneath it that trembled. A long silky strand of hair had escaped Evelyn’s braid and dangled down her back. “What time do the customers usually start arriving?” he asked to distract himself while he adjusted the chain.

  “We haven’t had many lately.”

  The thought that Evelyn and William might be experiencing financial troubles because of William’s illness brought Radford back to his senses. He would turn this livery around then go back to the mill.

  “That should do it,” he said, securing the chain then backing up a step to let Evelyn squeeze from between him and the carriage wheel. “Business will pick up when I get the forge going. I’ll be able to shoe horses and maybe even fix this wheel band by tomorrow.”

  “You can fix that?” Evelyn asked, her eyes lighting up.

  To his distress, he found himself staring again. Evelyn was refreshingly transparent, unlike Olivia who’d been an emotional chameleon. The first time he’d seen Rebecca’s mother was at a theater in Boston where he had gone to escape the pain of his memories. Olivia’s ballet performance had swept him away so completely that it was the first time in years his mind had been quiet. After the show, he’d gone backstage to introduce himself to Olivia, and that began a fiery ten-month affair that ended when she walked away from him and their infant daughter. Olivia Jordon wanted the stage, not a husband and child.

  “It’s all right if you can’t fix the wheel,” Evelyn said, as though his lack of response was meant to be a negative answer.

  “It won’t be a problem,” he said then stood up and grabbed the chain. “You’d better stand b
ack.” Iron links rumbled over the beam as he pulled on the chain, gouging fragments of wood that floated down upon them. He pulled again and the carriage inched upward until the wheel was suspended four inches off the livery floor.

  “It must be nice to be so strong,” she said. “I could do three times as much work in a day if I had a pulley and half your strength.”

  Or three times as much destruction, Radford thought. Though his strength had kept him alive during the war, knowing how he’d used that power to survive was not something he wanted to remember.

  “Kyle lifts logs by hand just to prove he can,” she continued, oblivious to Radford’s unease. “He says it keeps him in shape.”

  Radford squatted beside the wheel and pulled the pin from the hub. “Kyle’s been strong since he was born. He doesn’t need to work at it.”

  “I know, but don’t tell him that. His head is fat enough.”

  Radford grinned despite himself. Maybe working with Evelyn wouldn’t be so bad after all. She was easy to read and she spoke her mind honestly.

  “You won’t tell Kyle what I said, will you?”

  Radford didn’t respond right away, just studied Evelyn with curiosity that deepened to appreciation. Slowly he stood. “You have my word.” He reached out and picked a wood fragment off her shoulder. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  Her eyes widened then she dropped her chin and took a step back. “I’ve already forgotten about it.”

  “Good,” he said. “I want to help you, not scare you to death, or make you think you’re working with a crazy man.”

  Her head jerked up and she looked at him with the same confused, frightened expression that had been on her face last night after he’d choked her.

  Radford’s gut cinched with regret knowing he’d hurt her. With one finger, he reached out and pushed open her collar. The light bruises on her neck sickened him as much as the distrust he saw in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Evelyn. Sometimes I forget where I am,” he said quietly. “I forget that the war is over and that I can’t fight the battles again–that I can’t save my friends.” Tenderly, he drew his thumb over the marks on her neck as if to soothe them away. “My memories make me angry, and sometimes, violent. Don’t risk yourself trying to rescue me from them. No one can.”

  Throughout the morning, Evelyn did her best to forget about the incident in Radford’s bedroom, but her mind kept drifting back to it. What had happened to make him so violent? Who was Thorn? Had the war ruined Radford’s mind? She wiped the grime off her hands, her thoughts racing.

  She stretched her back then straightened and whacked her grease rag against the stall, remembering how she’d started blathering like a fool the minute Radford had entered the livery that morning. She’d been so nervous she had nearly knocked the carriage onto its axle. What a halfwit. She’d lost every shred of her common sense the second Radford was within ten feet of her.

  When he returned to the livery later that morning with Rebecca, he acted as if nothing had transpired between them. For two hours, Evelyn watched Rebecca sit on her blanket, as she was doing now, observing the horses and fat bumblebees that zipped in and out of the livery. Despite Rebecca’s curiosity, she’d kept her father in sight. When Radford moved, she would pick up her blanket and settle herself where he stopped. She sat on the steps while he scraped the porch floor. She sat on the paddock fence while he measured the rotting shelter. She sat on the dusty floor of the livery while Radford inspected the forge.

  Several times Evelyn started to approach Rebecca, to take her by the hand and show her all the things the child seemed so curious about, but she held back, sensing that Radford didn’t want her to interfere with his daughter. But watching Rebecca was heartbreaking. Little girls should be running through the yard, shrieking and giggling and wearing the grass thin. That’s how Evelyn had been before her mother died. That’s how Rebecca should be. Not this unnatural, quiet watchfulness.

  Evelyn was actually relieved when Radford took Rebecca and went to his mother’s house for supper. Though Kyle ate with his family, he came to see Evelyn afterward.

  “What did Radford do all day?” Kyle asked, taking a chair opposite her on the porch.

  “I’m not sure. We didn’t see each other much.”

  “Wasn’t he in the livery?” Kyle asked.

  “Occasionally.”

  “Well, he must have talked to you.”

  “He measured the shelter.” She shrugged. “I was too busy to notice more than that.”

  Kyle leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, his fingers interlaced between them. “Sounds like he is going to be making some repairs.”

  “Didn’t you talk to him at supper?”

  “Not about the livery. He was too interested in what we’re doing at the mill.”

  Evelyn detected a note of unease in Kyle’s voice. “Does that bother you?”

  Kyle quirked a brow. “Why should it?”

  “I thought you might not like Radford being involved in the sawmill after you’ve done so much to make it successful,” she hinted, hoping Kyle would give her some insight that would help her find a way to get Radford back to work at the sawmill and out of her livery. Any man from Kyle’s crew would be a safer choice.

  “I’ve worked too hard to turn it over to anyone. Besides, my gut tells me that Radford won’t stay long enough for me to be concerned.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he hasn’t stayed in one place for more than a couple months since the war. Why do you think he did so well with the railroad?”

  Evelyn shrugged. “I thought the railroad made him travel.”

  “They did, but—” Kyle shook his head. “Never mind. It’s unimportant.” He gazed off toward the dark orchard, a wounded look in his eyes. “I learned long ago not to worry about Radford. Or depend on him.” He released a long sigh. “What happened to your throat?”

  Evelyn’s stomach flipped. He would be enraged if he knew she’d been in Radford’s bedroom.

  “I... I stumbled over a bucket and hit my throat.”

  “On what?” he asked, studying her neck with concern.

  “The wheelbarrow.” She hated lying, but knew the truth would elicit unnecessary concern at the least, and a war at most.

  Kyle shook his head. “It’s a good thing Radford’s helping you now. I won’t have to worry so much about you being alone out there.”

  She covered the bruises with her fingertips, but Kyle reached out and caught her hand. He looped his arms around her waist and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips.

  It was the first time he’d kissed her. His lips were softer than she expected and the stubble on his chin was rough against hers, but not unpleasant. He smelled of fresh-cut wood and soap.

  She ducked her face and stepped away. Their relationship had been so much easier during the days when Kyle just wanted her to climb trees or skip rocks in the creek.

  Kyle squeezed her shoulder. “Was it that bad, Ev?”

  She glanced up to see a teasing glint in his eyes.

  “Don’t be offended. I’m just getting to know my future wife.” He tipped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “We’ll have children together, Ev. There’s no need to be shy with me.”

  Her discomfort with Kyle wasn’t shyness. It was awkwardness. She didn’t feel feminine or desirable. But the sincerity in his eyes eased her worry. She’d always been able to depend on Kyle to make things better. He could teach her how to be a good wife. He would give her a secure future and the family she desperately wanted. He was devilishly handsome, intelligent, and steadfast, the kind of man any girl would want. She would learn to love him.

  She would.

  Chapter Five

  For a solid week, Evelyn watched Rebecca trail after Radford like a miniature shadow. He had left her at his mother’s house one morning, but Nancy brought Rebecca back within the hour, claiming she couldn’t bear the child’s heartbreak.

&n
bsp; Though Rebecca was quiet, Evelyn could see a spark in her eyes when she studied the horses. Many times Evelyn felt the little girl’s curious gaze on her. Whether she filled the oat bin, fed the horses, or mucked the stalls, Rebecca would be raised up on her knees, watching her with avid interest.

  This morning Rebecca sat on her blanket with her shoes off, talking to herself and picking her toes. She seemed so lost, so small and alone, that Evelyn decided she just had to approach her.

  “Rebecca,” Evelyn called softly.

  Rebecca’s head lifted.

  “Would you like to give the horses their oats today?”

  Rebecca stared at the oat scoop in Evelyn’s hand, her expression momentarily confused before her eyes suddenly came to life. She glanced at Evelyn’s Thoroughbred then gave a shy nod.

  “I don’t want her near the horses,” Radford said from the stall beside Evelyn.

  Rebecca immediately sank back upon the blanket, the excitement ebbing from her eyes.

  Evelyn cursed under her breath. “I’ll be right beside her.”

  “They’ll frighten her.”

  Having watched Rebecca all week, Evelyn didn’t believe that for a moment. Though Rebecca was unnaturally quiet and withdrawn, she was curious about the world around her. The horses fascinated her, and in some small way, so did Evelyn.

  “How will she learn about horses if she never gets close enough to touch one?” Evelyn asked, resting her elbows on the half wall between the stalls. Radford had his back to her, allowing Evelyn to observe the way his shirt tightened across his shoulders as he swept the hayfork across the floor to spread fresh straw.

  “Rebecca’s never been on a horse,” Radford said, shaking the last of the straw from his fork.

  “Papa claims I sat my first horse as soon as I could sit up on my own.”

  “I’ll teach her how to ride when I think she’s ready.”