Cool air flowed through her thin undergarments and over bare skin. Goosebumps soon dotted her flesh. Chilled, Evie nevertheless stepped into the river. The freezing contact stole her breath and quickly started to cool her temper.
Mud squished between her toes and the clear water turned mucky as she snatched the bonnet off her head. With a sharp exhale, she tossed it up beside her bag then grabbed the soap. Evie eased deeper, inch by inch, until she stood wet to mid thigh. Her teeth chattered as she swiftly washed.
Before she could think twice about it, Evie submerged then came up gasping. She sloshed back to land numb to the point of pain. The gusting wind triggered violent shivers. As soon as she reached the rocky bank, she dropped the soap and snatched up the towel.
After Evie dried off, wrung out her clinging small clothes as best she could without removing them, she still shook non-stop. The harsh call of a raven drew her gaze as she dug in the bag for her other clothes. She stared at the bird perched on a branch of the only tree they’d seen for miles. Embarrassment dawned on her suddenly and she froze. Nothing shielded her from curious eyes.
Her gaze scanned the surrounding area without moving a muscle. Aside from several small birds scattered over a nearby field, she found no sign of life. Relief lasted seconds then died. Someone could show up any minute. Evie grabbed the dress she’d shed moments before and with haste pulled it on.
A horrid smell filled her nostrils. Evie looked at her hands. Nasty brown mud streaked both palms. She looked for the source, found the ugly stain on her clothes. That’s what he was trying to tell me.
Tears flooded her eyes. Shame burned through her as she picked the soap back up, returned to the water. He must think I’m crazy. Evie scrubbed her skirt, skin, and hair, everything, until certain she was clean. Drained, she sloshed onto the bank.
“Are you okay?” Ben shouted from where she’d left him.
Soap fell from pale fingers. “I’m fine.”
“I made you a sandwich.”
With the damp towel clutched against her chest, she swept up her things. “I’ll be right there. Thank you.”
As Evie walked back, slowed by her bare feet, she tried to think of ways to apologize for her behavior. The breeze swung a clump of dripping hair over her eyes. Hands full, she flipped it back with a shake of her head. Distracted, she tripped and almost fell.
“You all right?” Ben called, his tone laced with worry.
“I’m fine.”
“Feel better?”
“A little.”
Ben had built the fire back up while she was gone. She put her things down and held her hands out, grateful beyond words for the warmth. Though her cheeks burned with embarrassment, Evie resisted the urge to look at the ground. Her gaze met Ben’s square.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper.”
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not. There’s no excuse. I don’t know what came over me but I won’t let it happen again.”
“Okay,” His smile, broad and sincere, reached his eyes and warmed her heart.
With her head tilted to one side, she twisted her hair and wrung out water. She picked up the towel, dried the mass as best she could. Strands fell over her face. Evie pushed them off with a self-deprecating chuckle.
“Now I smell fishy.”
“Ah … ” She speared him with a look. “Maybe, a little.”
“Maybe a lot.”
“Okay, well are you hungry?”
“Starving but first,” A gust of wind blew through her wet clothing and stole her breath. Seconds passed before she could continue, “I need your help to change.”
His mind blanked, eyebrows furrowed, “Change?”
“I need to change my clothes. I’m soaked to the skin.”
“Oh,” A mental picture of Evie stripped, her skin white, soft, damp, unfolded in his mind. He blinked and it faded. “I see,” Ben grimaced at his choice of words. He cleared his throat. “Um, why don’t you … ”
His voice tailed off as he looked about and her dilemma became clear. Flat fields for miles. The tree, poised on the riverbank, offered no protection. Its lowest branch jutted out higher than her head, its trunk would block only one line of sight. “Oh, I understand, could you wait-”
“Look at me.” Evie broke in, impatient, face pale, lips tinged blue, her dress clinging to every curve. “I’m freezing.”
Guilt swamped him. “I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t be, my foolishness got me in this mess, just help me figure out a way to deal with this without losing the last of my dignity.”
“Of course,” Ben glanced around again and the quilt he’d pulled out for them to sit on caught his eye. “If you stand by the wagon I could hold a blanket up around you.”
“Sounds good,” Evie gathered her stuff and hurried off.
Stunned by her quick, easy acceptance, Ben remained for several seconds then grabbed the quilt off the tailgate. He shook it out while Evie knelt, rummaged through her bag. She stood and draped dry clothing over the wagon wheel. He took a corner in each hand, spread his arms out wide and against the wagon on either side of his wife while his chin held the middle to his chest so that the quilt created a half circle shelter around her.
Only inches apart, Evie turned to face him, her gaze direct and unflinching. His heart pounded. “Close your eyes.”
“I am your husband,” He managed to state calmly even as heat swept up his neck to scorch his face.
“Right now we’re practically strangers.”
“But we-”
“Ben please.”
“All right.”
His eyes shut tight, Ben averted his face as much as he could and still held her cover. In the self-imposed darkness, his other senses became acute. Whenever she brushed against the quilt, her movement whispered over his flesh like a caress. The sounds of her fumbling with buttons, peeling wet cloth from her skin and her muffled groan of relief when what had to be her soaked dress plopped onto the ground, all roared in his ears.
Sweat soaked the back of his shirt. Damn, she was naked. His imagination flooded with possibilities. Evie bumped against his chest.
“Sorry.”
“No harm done.” His voice came out strangled as fabric rustled and his imagination ran amok. “You almost done?”
“Just about. I’m putting on my stockings.”
Over her beautiful calves no doubt. “Good.”
“Are you okay Ben?”
“Ah, yeah, just, ah,” Think about something else. “My arms are getting tired.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll be finished soon promise.”
Fishing. Horses. Mucking out stalls.
“I can’t wait to get to town, have a real bath.”
His breath caught.
“All done.”
Ben opened his eyes, met her gaze for a split second then looked away. He dropped the quilt, turned and walked away, his speed greater with each step. “I’ll go put out the fire.” Or jump in the river before I do something stupid.
Startled by his odd behavior, Evie studied her husband while he kicked dirt over smoldering sticks. She doubted his efforts had caused his flushed face. A tiny flutter of confidence beat within her. He found her attractive. A smile spread across her face. It wasn’t love but it was a start.
Ben walked up next to Evie, disrupted her thoughts. He repacked the box, pushed it back into the bed. Curious, she moved close and put a hand on his arm. Tension emanated from him. Her smile broadened.
“Is there a problem?”
“No.”
Ben looked down at where she touched him then back up at her, clearly uneasy. “Are you ready to go?”
“Almost,” She handed him her bag then moved away to wrap her wet clothing in the quilt. “Are you in a hurry?”
“I want to reach town before dark.” His tone terse, Ben took the bundle from her, tossed it into the wagon.
She sat down, started to pull on her boots. “Okay.”
/> “Ready?” Ben prodded.
One boot on, unfastened, and one still off, she looked up, a sharp response on the tip of her tongue. The fine lines of strain around his eyes dissolved it. Evie quickly finished her task and stood, “Yes.”
Without another word, Ben helped her up. A moment later, they headed out. A mile passed in relative quiet. Two fluffy white clouds meandered across the sky. A couple of deer wandered in the field on her side. Evie studied her nails, tried to think of something to say.
“I thou-”
“I forgot,” His elbow jabbed her in the ribs as Ben dug in his shirt pocket to pull out a squished, sad sandwich, “To give you this.”
“Ah, thank you.” Evie smiled and accepted his offering, a chunk of salt pork riddled with congealed fat between uneven slices of dried out bread. “It was sweet of you to make this for me.”
“You’re welcome. See, I told you I’m good with food, just wait until I cook for you.”
With evidence of his skill in her hands, the thought of Ben preparing a meal made her stomach protest. Globs of butter squeezed out, smeared her fingers. Evie wanted to toss it to the ground but didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Um, I’m really not hungry now.”
“Are you sure?”
Nausea crawled up her throat. “Yes.”
“Would you mind if I ate it?”
“No, of course not,” Evie handed him the sandwich back then looked straight ahead.
They bumped along, silent until Ben finished, “Evie?”
“Yes,” Her tone distracted as she spotted the structures of a large town in the distance. A hot bath followed by a night in a real bed sounded like paradise.
“We’re married. I think we should act like it.”
Emotion swelled. Her heart pounded. “We are.”
“I meant we should … share a bed.”
“We do.”
“Not as husband and wife.”
“Oh, I see.”
“I don’t think you do.”
Excited, nervous, Evie whispered, “You want your rights.”
“I want us not to be strangers so I can be your husband,” He paused, the look in his eyes intense, “In every way.”
Chapter Ten
For a moment Evie couldn’t speak. Her mouth went dry.
“You’re different now.”
“Is that bad?”
“No but … ”
“I don’t want to live like this forever.”
“What do you mean?” Her stomach rolled. “Are you saying you’d leave me?”
“Every time we touch, you pull away as soon as possible.”
“And you think the answer is to insist on intimacy?” Her voice soft, strained, she looked down the road. Several of the townspeople were visible now. The sound of voices and activity hummed in her ears.
“I think our marriage needs,” his tone calm yet firm sent a shiver down her spine. “Some level of physical affection.”
Uncomfortable, she shifted on the seat. “What do you want, specifically?”
“You.”
Evie sucked in an audible breath. His one word response rocked her to the core. Wide-eyed she turned to meet his level gaze. Knowledge simmered between them.
“I want to touch you in ways a husband should.”
“In bed?”
“Someday, soon I hope, but given our current circumstances, I thought we’d start small. I’d like to hold your hand, kiss you and hold you close at night.”
Hope spread like warm honey through her being. Countless replies tumbled in her mind. Evie clasped her trembling hands together in her lap and gave simple consent. “Okay.”
“Okay,” He smiled at her a moment then faced forward as they entered the town, Challis.
Nerves taut she waited for Ben to do or say something but some minutes passed without action. They passed by a number of outlying buildings with silence between them. Her fingers laced and unlaced. Dust clogged the air. Her gaze darted from the people now visible in every direction, to her husband whose calm expression left her uncertain.
Partway down the street, past a small white washed church, they pulled up in front of a hotel. Without a word, Ben helped her down. He reached up, pulled the rifle out from under the seat then stilled, studied her a moment. Her heart started to beat faster. He indicated the wagon with a jerk of his head and stepped away toward the tail end. After a brief hesitation, she followed.
Ben pulled her bag and the quilt with her wet clothing out of the bed. Eager for something to do, Evie took the bundle of laundry. She chewed on her inner cheek and shifted her weight from one foot to the other while he refastened the canvas that covered their belongings. Task completed, one large hand palmed her carpetbag together with the rifle while his free arm curved around her waist.
“Come on let’s get checked in.”
Evie tensed. Although hyperaware of every inch of physical contact, she didn’t protest. In fact, she didn’t utter a sound the entire time that it took Ben to register them, arrange for a bath and care for Sugar. She allowed him to keep her close until they were alone in their room then stepped away, sank down onto the only chair.
“That wasn’t so bad was it?” Ben put the bag on the bed and propped the rifle against the wall by the window.
“No but,” Tension reduced her voice to barely a whisper as she lowered the quilt bundle to rest on the floor by her feet. Her gaze fixated on the bed. “I-”
A brisk knock sounded on the door. “Hold that thought, I think that’s your bath.”
Ben crossed the room and let in a brawny man who muscled in a large, metal tub. The man exited while a maid carried in bucket after bucket of steaming water to fill it. In the end, the woman placed soap and towels on the washstand, accepted a tip from Ben then left.
“I’ll give you some privacy. Take your time, I’ll grab us something to eat.” Ben placed his hand on the doorknob, started to twist then stopped, looked back at her. “What were you going to say earlier?”
“Ah … I forget.”
“All right, lock the door behind me.”
“I will,” Evie assured him and put action to her words.
For a moment, she leaned against the solid wood but the hot bath proved to be an irresistible lure. She stepped over to the tub, stripped out of clammy clothing. Evie snatched up the soap and stepped in. Warmth seeped through her. She submerged up to her shoulders. A moan of pure pleasure passed through her lips, echoed in the room.
For a time, Evie just relaxed. Her eyes drifted shut. She wallowed in the bath like a small child. Some time later heavy footsteps outside the door sounded, broke her peace. Her eyes flew open. She sat up straight, stared at the door and held her breath.
The steps continued past. Her breath released and, with a sense of urgency, she started to scrub. Once washed from head to toe, she tackled her soaked, stained clothes. A long while later, tired but content, she hung her things about the room, on every available surface to dry.
In her comfortable flannel nightgown and light robe, skin tingling, Evie sat on the bed. She brushed her squeaky-clean hair in the soft radiance of sunlight that filtered through thin, beige curtains. The familiar task, the rhythmic strokes, soothed her.
“It’s me.” Ben called out, rapped on the door.
Evie let him in. She smiled at the sight of cloth-covered plates in his hands. “That smells good.”
“Yes ma’am, chicken and dumplings and some milk from the restaurant across the street.”
“Thank you,” She accepted a plate then sat on the bed, pulled off the cloth and inhaled the delicious aroma.
“You’re welcome.”
Ben set his plate on the chair and pulled a jug, a couple of metal cups and spoons out of a bag that hung from a cord over his shoulder. He poured them each a drink then handed her a cup along with a spoon. “What would you like to do after we eat?”
Her mounded spoon halfway to her mouth, Evie froze. “What do you mean?”
; “It’s a mite early for bed unless-”
“I’m not ready for bed.”
His tone calm, one eyebrow arched, “Looks like you’re dressed for it.”
“It’s all I have that’s dry,” She put her spoon down.
“I could fetch you something from the wagon.”
Slowly she shook her head. “This is all I have.”
“Are you telling me,” His expression stone cold, voice serious as one hand waved at the damp items around the room. “These are all of your clothes?”
Her gaze dropped to her plate. Evie nodded then picked up her spoon. Until something dried enough to wear, and without a fire that meant several hours at least, she couldn’t leave. Her stomach growled. She took a bite, started to chew slow.
“I don’t like this.”
Evie swallowed hard. Eyes widened at his low, angry tone, she looked up at Ben. “The chicken?”
“The food’s fine.” He dismissed the notion and as if to prove the point scooped up the last of his meal, ate it before he spoke again. “But you not having clothes is not.”
“I have clothes.”
“Precious few it seems.” Ben downed his milk and stood.
“I have enough.”
“None you can wear outside this room today.”
“They’ll dry.”
“Not like this they won’t.”
Mouth agape, Evie watched her husband stomped around the room and snatch up every wet garment. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to find a proper place to hang these.”
“No, don’t I … ”
Ben left without another word. For a moment, Evie stared at the closed door in stunned silence. She ate out of habit, without thinking. Pride was an unaffordable luxury. If he found somewhere they could set in the sun and breeze, it’d be worth the embarrassment of strangers seeing her things.
As soon as she finished her meal, Evie stood and crossed the room. She’d just stacked her empty plate and cup on top of his when Ben opened the door, a self-satisfied smile on his face. “All settled.”
“That was quick.”
“Mary, the girl who brought your water, takes in laundry.”
“Oh, good.”
“Now that’s taken care of, I’ll go return the dishes and see about having the tub removed.” Ben grabbed the plates and ducked out.
Lori Connelly Page 12