“If?” Kyle took Evelyn’s arm and helped her dismount. “You and Rebecca won’t be living together once we’re married.”
“I’ll be moving down the road, not across the country.”
“Well, Radford might. Then what?”
He had a valid point. There was always the possibility that Radford would leave again, still even that risk couldn’t make Evelyn pull away from the little girl who needed her.
Kyle raked his hair back. “Listen, Ev, I’m not telling you to turn away from Rebecca, but give some thought to how you’re handling your relationship with her. I also want you to think about selling the livery and reinvesting in a new mill.”
“What?”
“I’m sure your father will see that it makes more sense to invest in another sawmill that can earn more money with less effort.”
“Don’t you dare talk to Papa about this.” Furious, Evelyn pressed a callused fingertip to Kyle’s chest. “I’ll never let you insult my father by telling him everything he’s sweated for isn’t good enough for you. I’d rather see him penniless and starving than to lose his pride.”
Kyle captured her hand and slowly lowered it to her side, his eyes snapping with unleashed anger. “I expect to be treated with the same respect I’ve always given you.”
“You call selling my heritage an act of respect?” She let the question rage between them as seconds ticked by in tense silence.
Slowly, with tightly held control, Kyle eased back and tipped his face heavenward. “Heritage is a set of characteristics that you receive from your parents. It’s the traditions and culture they raise you in.” He lowered his face and drilled her with a meaningful stare. “The livery is just a business with the sole purpose of making money.”
“What would you know of heritage?” she asked, her voice iced with accusation. “You stripped your own brother of his.”
Kyle reared back as though she’d delivered him a vicious blow. Never had Evelyn witnessed such a wounded look in his eyes and she immediately regretted her spiteful tongue. Wishing she could retract her words, she reached for his hand, but he stepped away.
“Don’t be a hypocrite. If you’re going to make allegations, don’t sugarcoat them with apologies.”
His naked pain exposed the vulnerable young man who used to share her heartaches, as well as his own, and it left Evelyn reeling with regret over her reckless words.
“I’m sorry, Kyle.” She touched his arm. “That was cruel.”
His nostrils flared and the familiar mask of control slipped back in place. “I have a ton of work left to finish on the house before our wedding so I’m going to have limited time during the next two weeks to see you.” His gaze locked on hers. “I would like those few occasions to be pleasant.”
“So would I.” And she meant that.
“Then let’s not discuss the livery until the wedding is behind us.”
Evelyn bit her tongue. She had no intention of selling the livery, but Kyle needed to calm down before she tried to reason with him.
“I know I’ve been unreasonable on occasion, but I had hoped you held me in higher regard.”
She flushed with shame. “I do.” She slipped her arms around his hard waist. “It just seems we define things differently. You see with your head. I see with my heart.”
“Look at me.”
She raised her gaze. A tired softness shone in the brown depths of his eyes.
“For your own sake, learn to see with both and save yourself some heartache.”
He kissed her then, and Evelyn tried with all her heart to return the kiss, but it was an act of apology rather than passion that united them.
Chapter Twenty
Radford made his way upstairs, taking care to miss the third step that creaked. At this late hour, he didn’t want to wake William or the doctor, and especially not Evelyn, whom he’d purposely kept away from all evening. His arms itched to hold her, but after seeing Kyle’s face when Rebecca asked Evelyn to be her mother, Radford knew he’d be encouraging a disaster.
He crossed through his room and entered the nursery, but was stopped by a vision so lovely it took his breath away.
October moonlight slanted through the nursery window and fell like gold dust upon Evelyn and Rebecca, who were sleeping in the rocking chair. Evelyn’s cheek rested lightly upon Rebecca’s curls, her arms circling the small bundle in her lap. Rebecca’s ankles peeked from beneath her yellow blanket, her bare feet a miniature work of art against the slender length of Evelyn’s silk-covered thighs.
Evelyn’s hair draped her shoulders and the side of the chair in long, ebony waves. Her legs were bare to the knees and her gentle hands rested upon Rebecca’s back.
Her dark lashes contrasted with the ivory of Evelyn’s cheekbones. Radford moved closer, wishing he could see the emeralds they concealed, but he didn’t wake her. He knelt beside the chair and gathered her hair in his palms. He rubbed the luxuriant strands between his fingers, reveling in the midnight satin. He loved her hair. He loved her callused hands. He loved... her.
He lifted his face and looked at the woman he had unwittingly fallen in love with. How could he not love her? Evelyn had drawn him from the darkness of his lonely world. She’d become his sun. For him, it was the first time in years that tomorrow seemed like a promise.
He touched her cheek and her eyes fluttered open. They were sultry with sleep and confusion as she sat forward.
“What’s wrong?”
He placed a finger across her lips. “I need to ask you something. Why are you marrying my brother? I’ve never heard you say you love him.”
“We need each other.”
I need you more, he thought, and so does my little girl. “What about love, Evelyn?”
Sadness filled her eyes and she looked away. “Let it go, Radford.”
Searching her face, he waited for her to explain, to make him understand how she could marry his brother when her eyes said she didn’t love him. But she was silent, the anguish in her expression matching the pain in his chest when he finally understood that she was going to go through with her wedding plans.
Resolutely, he lifted his daughter from her lap, intentionally filling his arms to keep them from reaching for Evelyn. He stepped away from her. “I’ll put her in bed. Goodnight.”
She stood up, but hesitated as if she wanted to say something.
“Go, Evelyn. Please,” he said, turning away from the need in her eyes.
At five-thirty in the morning, Evelyn poured coffee for herself and the doctor. “How ill is my father?” she asked.
A flicker of discomfort crossed the doctor’s face as he looked into his coffee cup. “If he rests and doesn’t have another attack of apoplexy, he’ll be fine.”
“Is that the truth?”
The doctor glanced up. “Yes, but he needs his rest.” Evelyn nodded and the doctor laid his elbow on the table. “How often does Radford have nightmares?”
The bluntness of the doctor’s statement surprised Evelyn. She knew Radford’s belt of anguish last night had been loud enough to wake everyone from a sound sleep, but she assumed no one would speak of it. She had desperately wanted to go to Radford last night, but after their brief meeting in the nursery, she knew she would cave in the minute she touched him.
She met the doctor’s concerned gaze and thought maybe she’d finally found someone who could help Radford. Leaning against the sink, she cradled her cup in her palms. “Radford has nightmares quite often. Do you know of anything that can help him?”
“It depends on whether he wants help or not.”
“He doesn’t,” she answered without hesitation. Radford kept his past shut up like a condemned house.
“Then he may be in for some problems.”
“Like what?” Evelyn asked, a sense of dread filling her.
“Well, other than his nightmares, he could experience anything from unexpected acts of violence to complete insanity.”
Evelyn gasped. “Are you saying it will ha
ppen?”
“Not at all.” The doctor smiled like a patient grandfather. “Under the right circumstances, though, any one of us could be pushed beyond our limits. I’ve seen perfectly sane men lose their sanity over an event that seems insignificant until I discover the horrifying events preceding it. People who have suffered traumas seem to be more susceptible.” The doctor drained his cup and set it aside. “Has Radford acted out of character since coming home?”
Evelyn’s first thought was of the day Radford shoved Kyle away from Rebecca in the garden. He had overreacted to his own fear, but the feral look in his eyes and the animal snarl that had come from his throat were not normal. She’d had her own experience in Radford’s bedroom, but she would never reveal that. “He is as sane as I am.”
The doctor studied her, his white brows perplexed. “You’ve had conversations about his nightmares, though?”
More than that, Evelyn thought, but she merely nodded.
“Then maybe he’ll talk with you when he feels safe.”
“Shouldn’t he be talking with his brothers, or his mother?”
The doctor shrugged. “Maybe Radford can’t bare his soul to his family.” He looked at Evelyn. “I think he needs a friend to talk to. You are friends, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation, but in her heart, they were much more than that.
“Then he’ll open up when he feels safe, when he believes he can trust you with the truth.”
“Is that the only way to keep him from leaving?”
The doctor wrinkled his forehead. “Hard to say. I think Radford needs to ease his conscience before he can settle down. In my opinion, he won’t find peace until he spits out what’s eating at him.”
Evelyn’s hope flagged. Radford would never talk about something he was trying so hard to bury. “I’m sorry to sound so doubtful, Doctor, but I know Radford. No matter what I say to him, it won’t convince him to tell me about his past.”
“Don’t be so certain. My wife found a way to reach me.” At Evelyn’s look of surprise, the doctor smiled. “It was her love and understanding that encouraged me to talk. I carried grief and shame so deep that I couldn’t stand to look in the mirror. She held me many times while I wept the poison from my soul, and she mended my battered heart with love, time and time again.”
“Radford doesn’t have a wife, Dr. Kendall.”
“Then he should find one.”
Chapter Twenty-one
On the last Saturday of October, Evelyn experienced an excruciating attack of nerves while getting ready to attend the neighbor’s wedding. In exactly one week, she would be speaking her own vows with Kyle. She would be promising to love, honor, and obey her husband. She would be consigning herself to a lifetime of friendship rather than love.
“Are you finished yet?” Rebecca asked, squirming on the bench at Evelyn’s dressing table.
“Yes, but I have a present for you.” Evelyn dangled an emerald silk ribbon in front of Rebecca. It was the silk ribbon her mother had given her the day before she died, but Evelyn wanted Rebecca to have it.
Rebecca’s eyes widened and she raised the ribbon to her mouth, rubbing the satin across her lips. Rather than the joy Evelyn expected to feel by giving something so sentimental, she felt a deep sadness for Rebecca. How could this child’s mother have given her up? The idea that any woman could abandon her own daughter was simply beyond Evelyn’s comprehension.
While she tied the ribbon in Rebecca’s hair, her heart strained toward the little girl who sat, ankles out, on a ratty old dressing stool with her tattered yellow blanket resting in her lap.
“There you go,” Evelyn said, swallowing the lump in her throat as Rebecca climbed off the bench.
Rebecca grinned as she admired herself in the looking glass, patting her curls with tiny palms and twirling in a circle to fluff her new dress. “I want to show Grandpa how pretty I am!” she said then wheeled from the room and barreled downstairs.
Evelyn sat on her bed and pressed her fingers to her eyes to stop the sting behind her lids. How was she going to live without the daily presence of that little girl? How was she going to bear seeing Radford and Rebecca turn to another woman?
More importantly, how was she going to live with her conscience if she married Kyle knowing she could never give him the love he deserved? Despite the promises they’d given each other, it was wrong to mislead Kyle about her feelings. Somehow she would tell him the truth tonight. Though she and her father could use the security Kyle would provide, they would all ultimately suffer if Evelyn took her vows with Kyle. He’d be furious at her for breaking their engagement at the last minute, but she knew Kyle’s anger would stem from a deep sense of hurt that she had broken a promise he’d invested his heart in. Still, it would be kinder than letting him find out five years from now that she couldn’t love him. Maybe someday he’d forgive her. If not, at least Evelyn’s honesty would allow her to reclaim the integrity she’d lost the night she gave her heart to Radford.
Radford hadn’t spoken privately to her since the night in the nursery, and despite the ache in her heart, Evelyn respected his decision to honor his brother. She’d never wanted to come between him and Kyle. She’d never meant to make a promise to one and fall in love with the other.
With resolve, she drew herself up and turned toward the wardrobe. Kyle would be arriving soon to take her to the wedding and she wouldn’t keep him waiting.
She took out the green silk dress that her father had purchased for her three years ago. The fabric slipped luxuriously beneath her rough fingers, but when Evelyn saw her plain face reflected in the mirror above the shimmering beauty of the gown, she understood why she’d never worn it. She would look ridiculous in anything fancier than britches and work boots. Taking a last, hopeful look at her dismal wardrobe, Evelyn realized nothing else would do for this occasion.
Resolutely, she opened the drawer and removed a package wrapped in tissue that her father had given her with the dress. She shrugged off her wrapper then withdrew the beautiful undergarments. Slipping the chemise over her bare skin, she marveled at the heavenly texture of it against her ribs. The nainsook corset was decorated with Valenciennes lace and a green interwoven ribbon that tied up the front. The matching tie-top drawers were also nainsook and trimmed with a three-inch embroidered ruffle that rested prettily above her knees. Gathering her nerve, she stepped into the gown and attempted the column of tiny pearl buttons, but her nervous fingers kept slipping. She was used to handling shovels and harnesses, not buttons the size of nail heads.
She smoothed the dress across her hips and cringed when it snagged on her rough hands. Slowly, she turned in a circle and raised her eyes to the dressing table mirror. The silky richness swirled outward then settled around her ankles like a limpid green pool. The afternoon light reflected in warm waves along the material and upward to the tailored bodice where her hair lay like a black sash across the rich fabric. Her hair... her awful hair.
Trancelike, she drew her hand over her thick braid. She loosened the crisscrossed skeins and finger-combed it into tumbled disarray. One look at her disheveled reflection reminded Evelyn she was a woman who didn’t know the first thing about dancing and flirting. Her skin had grown used to woolen shirts and rough denim britches and her feet were accustomed to the height of boot heels, not pretty sandals.
Turning, she eyed the pair of matching green kid sandals with hand-turned soles and fancy ribbon laces that lay on the bed. Bought to match the dress, they beckoned until Evelyn perched on the mattress beside them. With unsure fingers she drew on her hose, careful not to snag them then slowly slipped her feet into the shoes and tied them closed with the silk ribbon. The feeling of the sleek, cool interior sent shivers up her neck.
She stood and wiggled her toes then took a couple of steps. Her hips became fluid, swaying of their own volition. Her legs felt longer, sleeker. The narrowness of the shoes offered less solidity than her boots and shortened her stride. The bows
crossing her arched feet looked so feminine that Evelyn covered her mouth. She couldn’t possibly wear anything so rich—so feminine. She’d look ridiculous.
It was all she had, she reminded herself, privately coveting the sleek material snugging her skin. Her back became straighter, her chin a bit higher, her hips swaying gracefully as she walked. Disconcerted, she tightened her buttocks and stiffened her legs. Four more steps and still the sway.
Ignoring her inner doubts, she brushed out her hair while her curling tongs were heating on her lamp. She had no idea how long to heat the iron and her first attempt singed her hair. After they cooled some, she tried again and managed a tight curl. It took several minutes to curl her thick hair and keep the tongs heated, but when she finished and looked in the mirror at what she’d accomplished, her hands flew to her mouth in horror. “Oh no,” she whispered to her wild reflection.
Her hair flew in umpteen different directions and spiraled around her like a bushel of wood shavings. In a state of panic, she brushed through the unruly mass until she could gather it on top of her head and secure it with a tightly tied ribbon. Despairing that it could ever be contained with pins, she wrapped, tucked, twisted, and pinned, until finally the thick mass was resting on top of her head—and tumbling down the back of her neck—and spiraling around her pink-stained cheeks.
It was not the artfully coiffed hairstyle that Nancy had shown her how to arrange, but it would have to do. Kyle would be arriving any moment. She clipped on her mother’s pearl earrings and took one last look in the mirror. It felt divine to be wrapped in silk so shimmering and alive it seemed to breathe. Her reflection lifted her heart, her feminine cascade of curls appealing to her woman’s ego. But reality weighed her hopes, taunting her for wistful thoughts, reminding her that she was plain Evelyn Tucker who knew more about the workings of a livery than that of a woman.
Defiantly, she fastened the matching pearl necklace around her neck, pausing to smell the jasmine on her wrists. Mrs. Brown had given Evelyn the soap last week when she made her first payment on Rebecca’s doll. Evelyn had used the scented cake on every inch of her body this morning, and for the second time in her life, she felt feminine. The first time was in Radford’s strong arms.
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