Lori Connelly

by The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge

“Thank you,” Evie stated again, her tone crisp. The well-worn head cover now crushed in her tight-fisted grip. “But no.”

  The wagon rocked over an uneven section of road. Ben slid across the seat, bumped her. His head turned, lips a whisper apart, their breath mingled. Awareness pulsed between them.

  Chapter Seven

  Heart pounding, Evie couldn’t speak. Her upper body leaned closer. Nerves crackled along points of contact. She felt his slightest movement, anticipated his kiss.

  Without warning, the wagon rocked and their heads bumped together. Her eyes watered and she saw stars. Ben shifted away, “Sorry.”

  Evie bowed her head and looked away. Silence descended and became more uncomfortable each second. A minute felt like an hour. Her fingers curled in tight fists, nails dug into soft skin.

  This is ridiculous. Say something, anything.

  “Evie,” His voice unexpected, she started and a squeak escaped her. Ben didn’t seem to notice and continued, “Look ahead, the road starts to follow a river.”

  Trees lined the roadside some yards in front of them. The breeze, cooled over water, wafted over her. Evie inhaled, moist air filling her lungs. Branches bursting with leaves soon cast a shade over them.

  “That’s the Foxtail,” The sound of rushing water over stones and shore begin to soothe her. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

  “Yes it is.” Ben turned his head, grinned.

  For a long moment, Evie held his gaze and the akwardness fell away. Tension eased. A spark of warmth came into being in her heart then slowly spread. Finally, she smiled back.

  By unspoken agreement for the next few hours, they chatted about nothing of consequence. They discussed the weather, the scenery and Ben’s love of fishing at length. Miles later she started to yawn. Despite her best intention, his words began to wash over her. Her chin dropped to her chest. Eyes closed, she drifted off.

  The wagon groaned to a halt sometime later, and woke her. The bright sun caused spots to dance before her eyes. Evie blinked and her vision gradually cleared. Only then did she notice her position. Nestled against his warm muscular body, Ben’s arm encircled her shoulders. Sheltered, protected, she savored the moment.

  “Afternoon,” His arm lifted, as he released her.

  Reluctantly she straightened up. “Hi.”

  “Did you have a good sleep?”

  “Yes,” Evie squinted against the invasive sun. She found her hat in her lap and jammed it back on. The sheltering brim brought welcome ease. “Sorry about- ”

  “Don’t be. I enjoyed being my pretty lady’s pillow.”

  Is he flirting? “Well … I … Why did we stop?”

  “Sugar needed a rest and I need to stretch.” Ben stood, put action to his words then turned to climb down.

  “Oh, I … I mean your arm … ” He moved out of sight. “Oh forget it.” She muttered.

  Evie stretched, arched her back as she brought her hands up to rub across her face. With effort, she got to her feet and looked around. They were by a large pond in the center of a small clearing. She didn’t pay attention to Ben. He rounded the wagon, reached up and gripped her waist. The sudden touch startled her and she jerked.

  Her hat tumbled off as she fell, slammed against Ben. She sucked in a strangled gasp. His arms wrapped around her, tugged her to him, safe even as the force of her impact staggered him backwards. His breath a warm breeze over her hair, Ben found his balance. He held Evie in a loose embrace, steadied her.

  “You okay?”

  “I … ” Dazed she stared at her fingers splayed across his chest. The simple yet intimate touch mesmerized her. A moment passed before she eased away from him. “I’m fine, thank you for catching me.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Evie knelt down, grabbed the hat then smoothed her skirt in place. A cool breeze off the pond hit her and made a basic need a pressing concern. She excused herself.

  Minutes later, leaves caught in her hair, scratched from several prickly plants, Evie returned but Ben had vanished. She called out to her husband but he didn’t answer. She looked around the clearing and when it appeared empty, panic gripped her, a seductive haunt that she struggled to resist.

  As Evie walked around the mare, a distinct rumble caught her attention. Her lips curved into a smile. Relieved and amused, she followed the sound to its source.

  Ben reclined in the shade of a tall ash on the other side of the wagon. His shoulders rested against the trunk, his legs stretched out before him. The hat tilted over his face muffled his soft snores. A folded quilt and the lunch basket rested beside his left knee.

  Her stomach growled and with eager steps, Evie went to his side. She picked up the blanket and shook it out, faded colors spread over shadowed ground. Hunger became insistent when she opened the wicker container and looked inside. She sank to her knees and unpacked the contents: three sandwiches of chicken, butter and sourdough bread, several hard-boiled eggs, a couple of pickles and a canteen of water.

  “Hey there,” Ben pushed his hat back to rest properly on his head. “Looks like a picnic.”

  “Indeed,” Evie smiled at him. “Come join me.”

  “Happy to oblige ma’am,” He scooted over, sat beside her and picked up a sandwich.

  Ben polished it off in no time then shifted, tried to get comfortable. The wagon ride was torture. His ribs ached, a persistent pain that drained him though he did his best to hide it. He didn’t want Evie to notice. She had enough worries.

  His gaze wandered around the clearing. A family of ducks floated on the pond. Ben pointed them out to his wife, enjoyed her unmasked delight. They watched the birds, followed their progress until they swam into some reeds. Without risking the fragile peace between them, he couldn’t think of something else to talk about. He reached for an egg, ate it in two bites then downed half the contents of the canteen.

  Pale blue eyes captured his attention. What would turn that cool color warm? He offered her the canteen. “Thirsty?”

  “Thank you,” Evie took a long drink.

  Ben cleared his throat and with some reluctance decided it was time to move on from polite chitchat about the weather. “I was won-”

  Sunlight abruptly dimmed and the breeze, once cool, now started to deliver a bite. Ben glanced up as angry gray clouds rolled across the sky, threatening rain. “Never mind, we need to get moving.”

  “You’ve had enough to eat?”

  “I can chew on this later,” Ben grabbed the last sandwich, stuffed it in his shirt pocket as he stood, gestured to the gloomy heavens, “we need to cover our stuff before it rains.”

  A scattering of raindrops fell as he took the basket from Evie then helped her up. She picked up the quilt, balled it in her arms and they rushed to the wagon. Ben dropped their things into the bed while his wife pointed out where she’d packed the canvas and rope.

  Before they secured their belongings, Ben made certain Evie had her cloak buttoned around her. He then fastened his jacket snug, flipped his collar up and jammed his hat down tight. As a team, they worked the canvas over the bed. Just as the droplets evolved into steady drizzle, they had it tightly bound over the bed.

  Ben walked around the wagon one last time, double-checking his knots while his wife waited by the right front wheel. As he neared Evie, she tilted her head back to look at him. Unexpectedly her beauty struck him dumb. The blue trimmed hood framed her oval face, accentuated her eyes. His gaze lowered, lingered on crimson lips. It took Ben a heartbeat too long to realize she’d spoken. He looked up at her narrowed eyes and tried to sound casual.

  “What was that?”

  “Are we ready to go?” With a hint of exasperation in her tone, color stained her cheeks and further charmed him.

  “Sure thing, darlin’.”

  Flustered, Evie turned and climbed up onto the seat. She shifted on the wet leather, worked to smooth her cloak so it’d cover the full length of her skirt. Her nimble fingers became unusually clumsy when Ben sat down beside he
r. He was confusing her.

  Water dripped off her hood and onto her hands, now folded tight together on her lap. She grimaced and pulled her arms up her sleeves for warmth and protection. In the confines of her cloak, Evie hugged herself.

  “All set?”

  “Yes,” She kept her answer short, soft.

  Ben set the mare in motion. His action drew her gaze to his hands, strong yet relaxed, on the reigns. She’d lived with this man for years. She’d felt his passion, believed his pretty whispers in the dark.

  The wind slammed hostile against her face and Evie bowed her head, pressure building behind her eyes.

  “There might be a bump or two, hold on.”

  “All right,” She swayed as they pulled onto the road. The bone jolting rhythm smoothed a little thereafter.

  Reigns in one hand, Ben dug the sandwich out and held it under her nose. “Would you like half?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Sure?”

  Evie fought the urge to roll her eyes, “Yes I am sure.”

  “Are you comfortable?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “As long as we follow the river, I’ll be able to fish.” He paused, ate the sandwich then continued. “Do you like fish?”

  “I do. In fact I used to go fishing with you.”

  “Really?”

  “Really, but you put the worms on my hook.”

  “What?” He shot her an incredulous look. “True fishermen bait their own hook.”

  Evie smiled and shrugged.

  “We’ll have to go fishing sometime soon then, have some fun together.” He paused, paid no heed to the rain, took another bite of sandwich. “You warm enough?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can get you a blanket.” He finished off the last bite.

  “I’m fine.

  “It’d be no trouble.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes,” Evie tried to contain her growing irritation. “And I’d like the quilts to stay under the canvas. We’ll need them dry tonight.”

  “Well if you change your mind let me know.”

  “I will.”

  Just then, the sound of voices sparked unease. Evie twisted, looked behind them. No one followed. Her eyes closed for a second in relief.

  More curious than worried now, she faced forward again and glanced around.

  Two kids sat on a spotted horse in a nearby field. They halted their conversation, called out and waved as Ben and Evie drove by. Their animated expressions, framed by dripping hair, recalled afternoons long past when she and her brother had ran wild, explored the countryside, heedless of the weather. They’d always come home filthy.

  Evie smiled as she waved back. I miss you Henry. Tears threatened but she refused to give her sadness full reign. They drove on, passed field after field, all empty.

  A good hour passed before sound again burst into their wet, wordless, journey. Chickens clucked. Piglets squealed. A cow called for her calf as they rounded a bend in the road, passed within yards of a big weathered barn.

  The noise emphasized the quiet between them so Evie attempted small talk again. “I think the rain has slowed.”

  “It seems so.”

  “The day started out beautiful.”

  “Yes it did,” His tone, polite, even but weary.

  Evie took sharper notice of her husband. He seemed more slumped And his face had paled. Foreboding knotted her belly. He shouldn’t be out in this weather. In fact, he should be in bed.

  “Ben I-”

  A buggy driven by a young couple approached from the front, traveled at a fast clip. The girl had her arms wrapped around one of his. As they swerved off the road, went around the wagon Evie saw them up close and their obvious infatuation made her chest ache.

  After they continued, she picked up where she’d left off. “I think we should stop, let you rest again.”

  “If we stop I think I’ll be done for the day.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “I wanted to get you to a town.”

  “Admirable but I’ll be fine camping out.”

  “You sure?”

  “It’ll be a little wet but shouldn’t be too bad.” Evie stated even though the damp cloth of her cloak circled her neck in an icy band, “So you’ll stop?”

  “As soon as I find us a good spot,” Ben looked over at her, his eyes dark with pain, which served only to solidify her concern even more.

  “Good.”

  The rain ceased but the clouds persisted, denying them much light or warmth. As the day darkened further, the air snapped with tension before a storm. A dense growth of trees enveloped them and the shadows made the road seem a narrow, winding trail.

  Chilled to the point of misery, sore from the jarring motion of the wagon and almost sick with worry, Evie was more than ready to stop. She wanted to check him for fever and make certain his stitches held. Selfishly she also wanted some dry clothes, the warmth of a fire and her feet on solid, motionless earth.

  As if he read her mind, Ben pulled off the road and came to a dead stop. Branches creaked with the rising wind. Her lips parted then snapped shut as Ben swung down over the side before she could speak.

  Evie shoved her arms back through her sleeves and stood. Needles pricked her skin as her right foot woke from slumber and her sodden tangled hair fell over her eyes. She brushed it back with an impatient hand then froze.

  The deepening darkness was isolating. Clouds doomed the promise of moonlight while the brewing storm hovered like a threat and her heart pounded.An owl hooted and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her gaze searched the shadows.

  “Ben?” She meant to yell but his name only squeaked out.

  Muffled footsteps drew her attention. Evie spotted a shadowy figure in front of the mare before it vanished from her sight. “Evie.”

  Her hand slapped against her chest at the sound of Ben’s voice below her, beside the wagon. Lips compressed, she glared at him. Anger flared, burned away her fears and set her in motion. She moved down fast, he reached out, tried to assist her. Once her feet were on the ground she twisted loose.

  Hands fisted, Evie faced Ben, punching his chest “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “Do what?”

  “Leave like that,” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I got down, walked around for a moment. I wasn’t hiding.”

  “You could’ve said so.”

  “I just did.”

  “Exactly,” She pounced on his words as if they were an admission of guilt. “You should’ve told me beforehand.”

  Sore and exhausted Ben raised a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed the tense muscles. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

  His gentle voice deflated her overblown anger and she looked away. Her arms fell to hang at her sides. She drew in a long breath, let it out slow. “No I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  “Something wrong?”

  Exhaustion tugged at her. “Lately,” She wrapped her arms around her mid section. “Just about everything.”

  An awkward moment passed as they stood, gazes locked. After a while, Ben cleared his throat. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “Don’t leave me alone.”

  “Okay,” He drew out that one word, his tone clearly puzzled.

  Evie sighed. It was easy to forget that with his memory loss Ben didn’t know why she was so jumpy. “I’m afraid of the dark.”

  “Oh, would you like me to light the lantern?”

  “That’d be great. Thank you.” Evie paused, lifted one hand up to rub over her face. “Do we have any water left?”

  “Some. I’ll dig out the canteen too and be right back.”

  “No, wait, it’s all right I’m not that thirsty.”

  “I’m only going into the back of the wagon.” Evie stared at him. Tension radiated off her. “Water or no, we need the lantern. It’ll be full dark soon.” Eyes wide, she shook her head. “Come with me th
en.”

  Before she could argue, he moved off. Nervous Evie stayed on his heels, so close that a moment later when Ben stopped, she bumped against him hard. Their bodies brushed as he turned.

  “S-sorry.”

  Ben brushed off her mumbled apology as he leaned in closer and desire slowly started to overcome the fear she felt in the pit of her stomach. Blood raced through her veins. His hands came up and grasped her shoulders. Mouth dry she licked her lips. He bent down and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

  Disappointment flowed through her as he turned away. He untied a few knots, loosened a section of canvas and lowered the tailgate. “I have to climb in. I’ll be right back. Remember there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Yes Ben.”

  “You’re safe here.”

  “Yes Ben.”

  “I’m wasting my breath aren’t I?”

  A wry grin made a brief appearance, “Yes Ben.”

  With a shake of his head, he heaved himself up. Evie drew in a deep breath, exhaled slowly. In the few minutes he was out of sight, the world seemed to darken rapidly. She could hear him rustling around in the bed, knew he was near and that helped, but barely. Only when he stood next to her once more did she feel a little better.

  Evie accepted the canteen with a whisper of thanks. She took some eager sips as Ben knelt down. Her anxiety lowered another notch when he lit the lantern which cast a soft bubble of light out around them. She offered him the last of their water.

  “Go ahead and finish it. I’ll get a drink from the river when I take Sugar down.”

  “Is it still close?”

  “Through the trees over there,” Ben gestured to his right while she quenched her thirst. “Can’t you hear it?”

  “No.”

  “Well it’s there, trust me.”

  “Do I have a choice?” Her words, delivered in a light tone nevertheless held a note of challenge.

  “No,” Ben smiled as he offered her the lantern. “Could you hold this while I unhitch her?”

  “Of course,” She took the light and watched while he made short work of the chore. “What can I do to help?”

  “You could guide us through the trees to the river.”

  Go first? She stared past Ben to the shadows beyond him.