Divine Deception

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “If there is anything I can do to repay you even a little—” she began.

  “That’s enough. Too much gratitude is a dangerous thing, Fallon,” he said, turning toward her.

  “You say the oddest things,” she muttered. “But at least you should know now that I am truly grateful.”

  “I know it,” he stated.

  Nervously Fallon tucked her hair behind her ear again. “Very well. I’ll let you go about your work then,” she said, turning to leave.

  “I don’t mean to sound so heartless so much of the time, Fallon,” he muttered.

  She stood still for a moment and heard his footsteps approaching her. He took her arm, and as he turned her to face him, she feared he might see the thrill his touch gave her brazenly written across her forehead. He slipped his arms through the sleeves of a white shirt, pausing before buttoning the garment to say, “I’m a hard man, and hard men often use hard words when they don’t need to.” Fallon nodded, unable to respond otherwise.

  Staring into the dark nothing of the hood was frustrating to Fallon. So dropping her gaze, her eyes fell to his muscular torso, which was still mostly exposed.

  “Why don’t you ever look at me when I’m talking to you?” he demanded.

  “I do!” Fallon defended herself, looking once again into the shadows that hid the man’s face. “But what am I supposed to look at? A gaping hole? A dark nothing? It’s important to see a person’s face when you’re speaking to them. Otherwise, you can’t—”

  “Don’t force this again, Fallon. You know the conditions of our marriage. You said you wouldn’t ask—”

  “I know, I know,” Fallon mumbled, scowling fiercely and putting a hand to her temple, which had begun to throb slightly. “You once gave me a lesson in trust, Trader. Remember?” she asked pointedly.

  He stood motionless except for his chest, which swelled as his lungs inhaled a deep, irritated breath.

  “Well, perhaps it is time you had one yourself. What makes you so sure I would go screaming through the house if you were to reveal your…your…physical imperfections to me?”

  “You would. Believe me. I know you would,” he grumbled.

  “Then you don’t know me very well. And what’s perhaps worse is that you don’t trust me. You don’t trust my loyalty to you,” she said. “Look at you! You’re body is perfect! As…as far as I can see.”

  “Really?” he chuckled.

  Fallon put her hands to her cheeks to cool her blush and rambled on, “And as for your character—well, everyone that ever lived and died on this earth has faults. The only noticeable flaw in your character is your lack of trusting in good people.”

  Taking her roughly by the shoulders, Trader gritted his teeth and said, “Listen here, Fallon—I have shocking deformities above my neck. Don’t imagine I don’t. Accept this as the truth, and know you will never lay eyes on them.”

  “But why? You trust Ben, Patty, Julia…even my own mother. You reveal yourself to all of them. Why not me? Whether you want to accept the fact or not, Trader, I am your wife. At least the law sees it that way.” Fallon felt her soul pleading with him. It wasn’t so much that she was unquenchably curious about his appearance, though that was true. It was more that he didn’t trust her enough to confide in her.

  “Ben, Patty, and Julia are circumstances that are none of your concern at present. As for your mother, as I said—”

  “I know. It was her dying wish.” Then, wrenching her shoulders from his powerful grasp, she turned to leave him again. “The defect obviously doesn’t include your mouth! Your tongue has the sting of a whip.” She halted in her footsteps, however, at his next words.

  “You mean to say the defect isn’t with my mouth because, even though you haven’t set eyes on it, you’ve felt it…tasted it. And you know my mouth, at least, is unblemished and capable of rendering you weak when engaging your own in a scalding kiss.” Fallon spun around to see him standing triumphantly, his arms again folded across his chest.

  “What an arrogant…vain…conceited remark!” she stammered.

  “A truthful remark,” he corrected her.

  “Scalding kiss,” she mimicked. “Don’t think for one moment, Trader Donavon, that I’m…I may be innocent, inexperienced perhaps…but I certainly do not lose my senses when you…when you…”

  “Yes. You do. Thank the stars I’m not able to take you to my bed as your true husband, Fallon. For if you think my kissing skills are magnificent—” He quit his bragging, stumbling backward and arms flailing, Fallon having shoved him yet again.

  “You are so…so…infuriating!” Fallon cried.

  As Trader stood straight again, however, her courage and indignation scattered. “Slap my hand, Fallon. Throw your tiny little fist at my stomach if you must. But stop shoving me,” he said calmly. Then, reaching out and taking hold of one soft, fragrant arm, he pulled Fallon against his brawny form. “Deny it if it makes you feel better, Fallon. But I know the effect my kiss has on you, and I’ll just have to continue to remind you every now and again.”

  He was right. She knew he was right, and as his masterful, already peppermint-tainted mouth toyed with her own, she accepted his kiss, enraptured. Liquid warmth seemed to wash over her. Her entire body erupted with goose bumps, and she was once again lost in his arms.

  As their lips parted all too soon, Fallon let her body fall weakly against Trader’s and breathlessly whispered, “Why don’t you trust me? Deep within me I know you would protect me from harm at nearly any cost. I know I can trust in you for protection, to provide for my needs, even to comfort me when I need comfort. Whatever your motives may be, I know I can trust you completely. But you don’t return the trust. Have I ever done anything that would make you think you couldn’t trust me? That you couldn’t be free of your confining hood?”

  Releasing her, he stepped away and began buttoning his shirt. “I do trust you. That’s the point you seem to be missing, Fallon,” he said flatly. “If I didn’t trust you to respect my decision to stay hooded, I wouldn’t have had you spend the night with me last night. I wouldn’t insist you move into my room.” Fallon experienced the slight, uncomfortable tingling of guilt as it marred her mind. She had tried to see him hoodless once, and she knew it. “I know you will respect my persistence in the fact, no matter what my reason may be, right or wrong in your opinion.”

  Casting guilty eyes to the floor, Fallon confessed, “I did try to look at your face once.”

  Tucking his shirt into his trousers, Trader chuckled, “I know.” Fallon looked up quickly.

  He reached out and pushed her hair back from her face. “And that’s why you won’t try again. Because you know how important it is to me that you don’t.” He patted her cheek teasingly and turned to go. Pausing, however, in the hallway and turning toward her again, he said, “You’re significantly different than other women I’ve known in my lifetime, Fallon.”

  “How?” she couldn’t help asking.

  “You’ve got a conscience for one thing. Your humility is nearly irritating at times, and…well…you have uncommon amounts of the most sought-after virtues.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled as he left.

  Turning back to her own room, she sighed heavily. “What did you expect him to say, Fallon?” she asked herself quietly. In one respect, Trader had issued the highest of compliments. But she had immediately wished he had given her a more insincere compliment, perhaps told her that she was fantastically beautiful in his eyes, that she sent his reason and common sense wafting off with the wind when she was in his arms as she had been only moments before.

  Sighing heavily once more, she lay down dejectedly on her bed and closed her eyes in an attempt to blot out his image. But the vision of the tall, hooded figure only came more vividly to mind, and a sudden sharp pain squeezed her heart as she thought of him.

  Fallon had long before admitted to herself her love for Trader was infinite. Every thought of every hour of every day was dominated by h
is presence. She wondered if she would truly be able to endure never holding his heart captive as he held hers. She thrilled at his touch, marveled at his ability to send fear from her mind with his strong embrace. She existed in awe of the perfect form of his physical body and humbly and completely recognized the protection he provided for her in every way.

  Turning to lie on her back, she gazed blindly at the ceiling above the bed. Her thoughts wandered back to the conversation she had earlier with Patty—the conversation concerning Trader’s letter to Julia.

  “‘Feel comforted that I, too, hope we will someday have a posterity of our own,’” she repeated the sentence from his letter aloud. “If it was me he referred to in the letter, why would Julia feel comforted?” she asked herself. “But it wasn’t a very tenderly written letter. Surely if he were referring to Julia the rest of the letter would have hinted at intimacy.” Sighing heavily again, she closed her eyes once more. “But he told me before we married children were not possible. He told me. He didn’t mean me in the letter. How could he have?” Still, her entire being thrilled at the thought of having Trader’s children. She smiled, imagining for a moment several hooded toddlers running about out in the pastures.

  As Fallon’s mind slipped into the unconsciousness of sleep, the battle between wanting to believe Trader referred to her in the letter and not being able to believe it raged on.

  

  “Do you plan to sleep the day away?”

  Fallon startled as Patty entered the room. “I must’ve fallen asleep,” she stated unnecessarily.

  “Yes, I’m sure you had trouble sleeping after seeing that man at your window last night,” Patty sighed, shaking her head. “How terrible. It was right you called Trader. It’s a terrible mess out front still. Trader has the hands busy turning over that bloody dirt now that the carcasses are gone.”

  “I can’t believe I’ve been so lazy, Patty!” Fallon exclaimed, jumping to her feet and going to the washbasin. “I’m sure I can help in some way. After all, this is my fault, you know.”

  “No, it’s not. This is between your nasty old uncle and the man he thinks did him wrong. We do need to start moving your things to his room. I’m so glad Trader’s finally come to his senses,” Patty chuckled as she looked around the room, her hands firmly planted on her hips.

  “How can I resist the temptation, Patty?” Fallon muttered, studying herself in the mirror. “It would be so easy just to sit awake until his hood slips a bit from his face. How do I keep from faltering?”

  “Same way he resists temptation where you’re concerned, girl. Though I think he’s a horse’s behind for doing so,” Patty said.

  “Are you just trying to be kind to me, Patty?” Fallon asked. Her mind had come alive in that moment with scheming. “Do you…are you implying he finds me…attractive in some way?”

  Patty giggled. “Honey, he’s sly about it, I know that. Planting those charming kisses on your pretty mouth every time he finds an excuse. Writing letters to Julia about hoping you’ll have his babies. It’s plainer than day, Fallon.” Patty’s face wore a solemn expression in the next moment, and she took Fallon’s shoulders in hand, watching her intently as she spoke. “Now this is a delicate matter I’m going to discuss here with you, honey. But I promise you, if you take a little initiative here—find a little self-confidence, a little dander, courage, or what have you—well, that boy didn’t marry you just to help you out, no matter what he told you.” She inhaled deeply, as if searching for her own courage before continuing. “He needs a little push, Fallon. A sign that you love him.”

  Fallon looked away shyly.

  “Don’t feel ashamed or bashful about it, Fallon. It’s the perfect thing. I’ve seen it in your eyes, and…and I’ve seen it in his. He’s just scared.”

  “Of what?” Fallon asked, irritated. “That I’ll see his face and leave him or some such ridiculous notion?”

  “Exactly,” Patty confirmed.

  Fallon turned from Patty, closed her eyes, and accepted what she had been afraid to until now. “He’s a powerful man. Set in his ways, Patty. He’s kept to himself for years, right?”

  “Yes,” Patty agreed.

  “He’s capable of defending himself from any harm. From what I see, the lovely Julia Salazares is at his beck and call.”

  “Yes.”

  “But he married me, Patty.”

  “He did.”

  “A poor, orphaned girl with no family to speak of save a drunken uncle and a dying mother.” Turning back to face Patty, she added, “My mother was happier when she left me here with him than she has been since my father’s death.”

  Patty nodded and smiled. “You’ve admitted it then, haven’t you? You’ve finally been able to open yourself to the fact that he’s in love with you.”

  Fallon laughed. “In love with me? I can’t accept that. Not when he keeps such secrets from me. But I know that he does care for me in some regard. Why else would he bother with me other than the fact he’s an outstanding man?”

  “Trader Donavon is a man above all others, Fallon, in every aspect of his being. Give him a little shove here and there, girl, and I promise you those hardened walls keeping him from you will melt away like a snowball in the summer sun.” Patty smiled and kissed Fallon affectionately on the cheek. “I thought you were going to turn out as stubborn as he is, honey. But you’ve let your heart open up now, and don’t let anything cause you to doubt again.” Patty tucked a stray strand of Fallon’s hair behind the girl’s ear. “I’ll give you a little advice now, sweetie. Big, strong, tough ol’ Trader Donavon won’t be able to keep his hands out of this brown softness for long. He likes your hair down. Let it loose more often.” Turning to survey Fallon’s room once again, she said, “Well now, let’s get to work. Daylight’s burning.”

  Fallon straightened bravely and turned to look at her reflection in the mirror once more. She was Trader’s wife. It was time she started behaving like it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Instead of the tighter braid in which she usually wore her hair, Fallon let it hang more freely, loosely braiding merely several inches of the ends. Letting the softer braiding hang over her right shoulder, she stepped from the house and onto the front porch.

  “Get back in that house!” Trader commanded as he rode up on Brigadier.

  “You can’t expect me to stay penned up forever, Trader. Besides, I know Uncle Charles. He’s passed out somewhere sleeping off his liquor,” Fallon informed him, stepping down from the porch and studying the freshly turned soil where the cattle had lain that morning.

  “Well, maybe the others aren’t,” Trader reminded her.

  “They work for him. I’m sure they have to sober up before causing any more trouble. Besides, they’re all cowards. They’re afraid to face you in the light of day.” As Trader exhaled in exasperation, Fallon added, “I’ll stay close to the house though. All right?”

  “All right.”

  Julia rode up to the house then and smiled at Fallon. “Hello, Fallon. You look radiant today,” she greeted.

  “Thank you, Julia. I guess you’ve heard about the horrible sight we faced this morning.” Fallon possessed a newfound confidence since her talk with Patty. Somehow she was able to face this woman now as an equal.

  “Oh, yes! It’s dreadful! I had to ride over and find out if you were faring well,” Julia explained. Fallon sensed the woman was entirely sincere in her concern.

  “I’m fine, but Patty and I could use some company over a cool glass of water,” Fallon invited. She was delighted when Julia smiled, obviously pleased. Fallon was also amused when she saw the confused movement of Trader’s hood as he looked first from Fallon, then to Julia, and back.

  Julia dismounted, tying her horse’s reins to the porch railing. “You see, Trader,” she said, smiling up at the man who remained mounted, “I told you I could keep her close to home for you.”

  “Hhmmm,” he mumbled.

  Going to stand next to the horse, F
allon put a hand softly on his knee. “I’m sorry for the cattle you’ve lost, Trader. I’m sorry.” Moving her hand upward, she touched his muscular thigh tenderly and, dropping her voice, added, “I’m sorry I shoved you too. I won’t anymore.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Because you asked me not to,” Fallon said cheerfully, turning from him and going to join Julia.

  “I asked you not to leave the house too,” Trader reminded.

  “You ordered me not to leave the house, Trader. And besides, that’s different,” Fallon explained. “Come in, Julia. Patty loves company, you know.”

  

  “I’m a widow,” Julia explained as Patty and Fallon sat at the kitchen table with her.

  “Julia’s husband was killed in the war,” Patty explained.

  “I’ve just never been able to find anyone since,” Julia sighed. “Of course, when Trader came back…but he never took to me anyway. Even before I was married. My Ricardo was lost at Gettysburg.”

  “I’m so sorry, Julia,” Fallon mumbled. She felt guilty for thinking badly of the woman. She seemed a sincere, kind woman. Fallon learned a great deal about her neighbor as she and Patty sat talking with her throughout the afternoon.

  Ricardo Salazares had been several years Julia’s senior. He was a rich cattle rancher and was known as an incredibly compassionate man. When he died, Julia, of course, inherited the ranch and chose not to sell it but rather to keep it running as a way of dealing with her grief. Julia repeatedly mentioned Trader and what a great help and comfort he had been to her over the past several years.

  “You would’ve liked my Ricardo, Fallon. He was a fine man,” Julia sighed.

  “He must’ve been,” Fallon said, “judging from his wife.”

  Julia reached out and took Fallon’s hand in her own and squeezed it appreciatively. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Well, get the boys out there! We should be able to catch one of them!”

  Fallon, Julia, and Patty simultaneously turned to look as Trader entered the house, shouting orders to someone outside. Fallon jumped from her chair and gasped, horrified as she saw his shirt soaked with blood at one side.