As he pulled her into his arms and against his powerful body, she relinquished all her resolve to resist him—entirely surrendered to the need to receive and respond to his masterful affections. His kiss was long, deep, and driven. When he released her, she stood weakened, shy, and unable to look at him.
“I’ll be in for lunch at noon, Genieva,” he said. He turned and left her then.
Turning to throw one final wave to her departing family, Genieva saw that the wagon was no longer in sight. In fact, her common sense told her it had most likely been some time since her father would’ve turned the wagon north. It would’ve been impossible for her family to have seen Brevan kissing her.
Quickly, she looked to Brevan. He paused, smiling victoriously. Arching one handsome brow, he chuckled before continuing toward the orchards. Genieva bit her lip, delighted as she realized the kiss they had only just shared had not been for her family’s benefit.
As she went about her chores later in the day, Genieva found herself preoccupied with thinking on what had transpired over the last two days. She and Brevan had gone from lugging pail after endless pail of water to the plants to dancing in the rain. Brevan had been injured when Cruz had stabbed him. Genieva’s family had found her, and things had been somewhat mended between them all. Furthermore, she had spent a night in the same room with Brevan and been favored with his affections. She shook her head, wondering in that moment at the drastic change of venue her life had taken. If only Brevan could truly care for her, she knew she would be the happiest woman alive.
Genieva glanced up—watched a wagon pull up in front of the house. She recognized Mrs. Wilburn as the woman nearly leapt down from it.
Running up the front porch steps, Mrs. Wilburn cried, “Is anyone home? Mr. McLean? Are you there?” Genieva set the bag of chicken feed down on top of a barrel sitting nearby and hurried toward the house. She stepped up behind Mrs. Wilburn in time to see Brevan answer the door as he stuffed a piece of bread and jam into his mouth.
“Mrs. Wilburn?” he greeted, his voice muffled by the food he fought to chew and swallow quickly.
“Oh, Mr. McLean!” the woman began. Genieva could see she was frantic—for her face was tear-stained, and her hands mercilessly wrung her apron. “I’m sorry to bother you…but is…is Mrs. McLean…your brother’s wife…would she happen to be here with you?”
“Lita?” Brevan asked. “No. I’ve no notion as to where she is if she’s not at her house.”
“What is it?” Genieva asked, stepping up onto the porch. Mrs. Wilburn whirled about to meet her.
“It’s my Amy,” she stammered, tears spilling from her eyes. “Her time has come, and we’re all alone, you know. I was hopin’ that Mrs. McLean would come home with me and help us.”
Genieva smiled at the distraught woman. “I’ll come with you. Just let me grab a few things. Don’t worry.”
The woman’s relieved smile was pitiful somehow. Genieva knew Mrs. Wilburn was frightened and alone.
“I’ll wait for you out here,” Mrs. Wilburn said, going back to the wagon. “Thank you, Mr. McLean,” she added nervously.
Genieva pushed by Brevan as she entered the house, but he caught her arm and turned her to face him. “Ya’ve got yar responsibilities here, ya have,” he growled.
“Have some compassion, Brevan,” Genieva scolded.
He followed her into her bedroom as she removed her apron and asked, “Why would she be lookin’ for Lita’s help anyway?”
“Lita’s a compassionate woman. She probably felt she could trust Lita to help her,” Genieva answered.
“There’s somethin’ ya’re keepin’ from me, lass. What is it?”
Genieva did not turn to face him—for she feared he would see the guilt on her face—the profound guilt washing over her at not having told him the entire truth about the day in the orchard with Cruz, Lita, and Joaquin. Furthermore, she had told him nothing whatsoever about her more recent encounter with Cruz.
As the guilt of withholding the truth from him continued to gnaw at her heart, she mumbled, “I have to hurry, Brevan. The girl must be terribly frightened.” Quickly Genieva turned, pushing past him once more. Brevan caught her by the shoulders and stayed her, however.
“Tell me what it is, Genieva. I’ll not let ya go to that lass ’til I know why ya pity her so.”
“I pity her because she’s a poor young girl who may not be at any fault in finding herself in this condition,” Genieva explained. She felt tears welling in her eyes.
“What do ya mean? Of course she’s at least at some fault of it.”
“I-I don’t think so,” Genieva mumbled, looking away from him.
“Tell it to me now, Genieva. What is it ya’re not wantin’ me to know? I’ll not let ya go to her until ya’ve told me the truth of it.”
Genieva looked up into Brevan’s angry expression. He would be furious, she knew—furious at her for withholding the truth from him and furious at the truth itself. “You won’t let me go anyway when I tell you.”
“Tell it now, Genieva. That lass is waitin’ for yar help. I promise I’ll let ya go no matter what ya reveal to me now.”
Swallowing hard, she whispered, “Amy’s…Amy’s…it’s Cruz Archuleta’s baby, Brevan.”
Brevan’s hands slid from Genieva’s shoulder. He looked at her in horrified disbelief. “And ya think he…”
“Don’t speak of it aloud, Brevan,” Genieva cried, covering his mouth with her hands. “I can’t bear to think of it, let alone hear it said.” She could not tell him more of Cruz. She could never tell him that Cruz had struck her, thrown Lita to the ground, and threatened them both—she could not tell him of his lecherous threats to her on the path home from Brian’s house. In that moment, she realized for certain that Brevan would see reason then to go looking for a fight with Cruz Archuleta. And Cruz would win, because he was a coward and would not meet Brevan alone.
“B-but Lita says Joaquin has feelings for the Wilburn lass,” Brevan whispered.
“He does. Cruz Archuleta is a monster! Now let me go to her. You promised me,” Genieva cried. She turned, running out the door—wiping tears of fear, anger, and frustration from her cheeks.
The sun had gone down hours before as Genieva bathed the new baby in the warmed water at the sink in the Wilburn kitchen. It was a healthy and very large, squirming boy she held in her arms as she walked back into Amy’s bedroom to give the infant to its mother.
“What will you name him, Amy?” Genieva asked as she handed the bundle to the tired girl lying in the bed.
“Marcus,” Amy whispered in a reply. “He was my brother who was lost as a baby.”
“Your husband is here, Mrs. McLean,” Mrs. Wilburn announced softly from the doorway. As Genieva turned and began to leave, Mrs. Wilburn caught her hands. As tears filled her eyes, she whispered, “Thank you, Genieva. Thank you for your pity on us.”
Genieva swallowed the hard lump of pity in her throat and said, “You should let people know that Amy was guiltless in this matter, Mrs. Wilburn.”
The woman only looked away, shaking her head.
“They would never believe me,” she said. “People like to think the worst. They like to have the hushed gossip sessions and point their fingers at someone’s problems…problems more obvious than their own.”
Genieva nodded, for she knew the woman was right. As she entered the kitchen, she saw Brevan standing with his back to her, looking out into the night through the open door. He turned when Mrs. Wilburn cleared her throat, and his eyes seemed to bore directly into Genieva’s soul.
“Will ya be needin’ anythin’ further, Mrs. Wilburn?” he asked. “Before I’m takin’ Genieva home? Can I do anythin’ for ya then?”
Mrs. Wilburn shook her head and put a tired hand to her forehead. “You’ve been kind to let her come, Mr. McLean. I know you must resent us for…for people accusing you of…but I want you to know that we never implied…”
>
“I know that, ma’am. I’m holdin’ no grudge. I just know me wife is tired and needs to be home restin’.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you both.”
Brevan helped Genieva into the wagon before climbing up next to her. “It’s near to midnight, lass,” he scolded. “I was wonderin’ when to come and get ya. Ya never said how long ya’d be.”
“One never knows how long this will take, Brevan,” Genieva sighed. She was so tired. The past twelve or more hours had drained her both physically and emotionally. It was no easy thing to watch a woman endure the pain of bearing a child. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply of the fresh night air.
Just as Brevan readied to urge the team onward, a man on horseback emerged from the darkness. Genieva gasped as she recognized Joaquin. She looked to Brevan, whose chest immediately began to rise and fall with the labored breathing of barely restrained fury. Quickly, she put a hand on his thigh and squeezed hard enough that his attention was drawn to her instead.
“Judge not, Brevan,” she whispered.
“What are ya wantin’ here?” Brevan growled, looking to Joaquin once more.
“I’ve been waiting out here every night for a week to make sure things went well when…when…” Joaquin stammered.
“Things are fine,” Genieva told him. “Amy is fine…and the baby.”
Joaquin shook his head sorrowfully.
“Ya’re more of man than I, Joaquin,” Brevan growled. “Or less of it…for I’d have killed a man for less than what yar brother did here.”
The deep brown of Joaquin’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Brevan and said, “Even if it was your hermano…your brother that did it?”
Brevan looked to Genieva for a moment—his eyes burning with fury as he answered Joaquin’s question. “I fear that I would. Even if it was me own brother.” He snapped the lines, sending the team bolting past Joaquin.
“He has a kind heart, Brevan,” Genieva said when they’d nearly reached their own home. “He’s torn. Torn between family and himself.”
“Makes no difference, Genieva. He knows right from wrong. He should do right and leave the wrong behind him, family or not,” Brevan growled. “Lita has done as much.”
Lita, Lita, Lita! It seemed everyone was forever praising Lita! She was a good woman—a good, kind, and beautiful woman—but Genieva was tired, and her temper was about to get the best of her once more.
“Oh, that reminds me,” she began casually as Brevan helped her down from the wagon. “Juan Miguel thinks that you fathered Lita’s baby. And I think that’s the only reason you’re still alive. For…although Juan Miguel means only to intimidate you...Cruz means to do otherwise.”
“What?” Brevan roared.
“Yes. It was yesterday morning that I found out. But with my family showing up on the doorstep and this going on…I completely forgot to mention it to you,” she said sassily. She stomped off toward the house then. When she entered it, she turned to look back at him, and the great weight of the guilt she felt collided with her heart as she saw the look on his face. Brevan stood shaking his head—an expression of ignorant disbelief on his handsome face.
“Why?” he asked, looking to her. “Why is it that everyone brands me with bein’ unchaste? Brands me with corruptin’ and carousin’. And now…now…” He shook his head and chuckled—unable to comprehend it all.
“Lita fears for you, Brevan. It’s why she won’t speak to her father of the truth,” Genieva said, going to stand before him.
“And Brian?” he asked. “Does he agree with her method of protectin’ me?”
“H-he didn’t know until I did. But it’s kept him safe as well, for Juan Miguel…or rather Cruz…for I believe it is Cruz that means you harm…he’s confused as to which of you to destroy first,” Genieva explained.
“Ya’ve kept all this from me? Ya’ve known about Amy Wilburn? Lita lettin’ her family think…about Juan Miguel and Cruz? And ya’ve not told me a shred of it until now? Why do ya find it necessary to lie to me, Genieva?” he shouted at her.
“I’ve not lied to you. I’ve simply not told you things. And you’ve done the same to me! What do you expect when you’ve done the same to me?” she cried. “Do unto others…”
“Oh, don’t be throwin’ the scriptures at me, lass! It’s well I know them.”
Genieva could only stare at Brevan as he groaned—then began to laugh. “I’ve done nothin’!” he shouted at the stars, putting an angry fist to his forehead. “I’ve done nothin’ to provoke any of this! I simply live on this earth!” He strode to Genieva, took her shoulders in his powerful hands as he chuckled with disbelief. “Nothin’! I’ve done nothin’. Ya tell me what I’ve done to earn this!” Frowning, he shouted, “Why is this all comin’ down on me own head? The Archuleta family thirstin’ for me blood to be spilled on the ground? Why? The entire town blamin’ me for poor Amy Wilburn? Why? And now this. Lita usin’ a lie to keep me and Brian safe? Why would she do a thing like that? Ya tell that to me, lass!”
“Because she loves you, Brevan!” Genieva cried in a whisper. “Everyone loves you, and they don’t want to see you harmed. Brian either! They would, any one of them, Brenna, Travis, Brian, Lita…they would do anything to protect you! So would I! Don’t you see? You’ve always been the protector. You don’t recognize it when the danger is aimed in your direction.”
Brevan released her. He straightened his shoulders—a gesture of defiance.
“I am their protector and yars…as well as me own. I won’t hide behind Lita’s apron. She’ll tell her father and brothers the truth of it…or I will. She’ll tell them the truth and remove Brian and herself from danger, she will. Cruz will find that I am not so easily exterminated.” He paused, still glaring, but looking toward the barn now as he spoke. “Now, off to bed, Genieva. Ya’ve got a long day ahead of ya.”
Not knowing what else to do, Genieva turned from him and did as she was told.
Moments after laying her tear-streaked face against her pillow, however, she heard something—a noise from outside. Quietly, she rose from her bed and walked to her window, peering out into the darkness. Click. Click. Click. It sounded like something striking metal, and as she strained her eyes through the dark, she could see Brevan sitting on the ground, his back against the barn. Click. Click. Click. She watched as Brevan picked up several pebbles lying about on the ground around him—tossing each one at the metal band of the rain barrel sitting some distance away. Click. Click. Click. Genieva crept back into her bed. Several minutes later, the noise stopped, and she heard Brevan enter the house. She heard the pump at the sink, the scrape of a chair leg on the floor, and then the heavy tread of his boots as he started down the hallway.
Opening one eye ever so slightly, she peered through her long eyelashes—watched as he stopped in her doorway. He stood still, seeming to study her for a moment. She struggled in keeping her breathing slow—appearing to be asleep. He simply stood there.
Why didn’t he go? she wondered. He reached back and took hold of his shirt, stripping it off over his head. Still, he stood looking at her. Please, she silently pleaded with him. Please just go to bed! Her heart began to hammer as he walked forward and hunkered down at the side of her bed, staring directly into her face.
“Ya’re wide awake, ya are,” he whispered. “Open yar eyes and look at me, Genieva.” With a heavy sigh, she did as he demanded. “I’m sorry,” he said as she stared at him. “I should’ve told ya meself the truth about Lita and her family. I should not have kept it from ya so long.”
Genieva swallowed, searching for the courage to speak. “It’s all right. I understand,” she whispered.
“And ya shouldn’t have kept yar knowledge from me either. Am I right?” he asked.
“You are right,” she agreed. Sensing his next question—for it was as if she could hear his thoughts before his lips spoke them—she held her breath.
“Have ya anythin’ else that needs confessin’, lass? Let�
�s hang our laundry out for each other here and now. I’m askin’ ya…with a promise that I won’t act on anythin’ ya don’t think I should.”
Genieva’s heart beat so furiously she felt it might leap from her chest and into the open air at any moment. She couldn’t lie to him. She couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer, and she knew it had been wrong to do so in the first place. Now it would be worse—for she knew his anger would be all the more stoked when he learned she’d withheld the knowledge of her experiences from him. Still, only the truth would serve her now.
Genieva sat up and drew her knees to her chest. She swallowed the hard lump of trepidation in her throat and began, “In the orchard…the day Lita and I talked with Joaquin…” Brevan closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply to ready himself. “Cruz was there first. He came upon Lita and me as we were walking. He was so rough with her, and I was frightened for her. H-he…grabbed me by the hair and tried to…” As Brevan suddenly jumped to his feet, she reached out, taking hold of his hand to stay him. “Lita interfered, and he threw her down. It angered me so that I said some things to him and provoked him, and…and…I didn’t fall in the woodpile that day, Brevan. Cruz struck me because I spit in his face.”
“He struck ya?” Brevan shouted, pulling his hand from hers. “He dared to touch ya…to lay a hand of violence against ya?” His eyes were blazing with fury. “I’ll kill the devil, and I’ll not wait another moment!”
Frantic, Genieva reached out, taking hold of his arm as firmly as she could to stop him—for she knew he meant to kill Cruz. “Wait, Brevan! Don’t. You promised me,” Genieva reminded.
“You’ve kept somethin’ the like of this from me, Genieva? Why? Why would ya keep this from me?” he demanded.
The Heavenly Surrender Page 18