Evie pulled in a deep breath and let it out.
“So was it the nightmare or me?”
“Both,” Random droplets became a persistent drizzle. She pulled her hood up, covered her head.
“Will you tell me about it?”
Wind gusted, blew hair in her eyes. “The night before you were hurt, you were gone.” She tucked wayward strands behind her ear. “Some of the neighbor’s ranch hands harassed me.” Memories flitted through her mind. “I ran in the cabin and eventually they rode off, never touched me. In the nightmare though, one of them broke in the door then … ”
“You woke with me on you.”
“And I just … ” Evie shook her head, “sorry.”
“No I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“You didn’t cause the nightmare.”
“Didn’t I?” Eyes dark with emotion, Ben looked at her, expression fierce. “Why wasn’t I there that night?” Evie bit her lip, wouldn’t answer. “I was out drinking wasn’t I?”
Her gaze dropped to her lap. “I found you in the barn the next morning, passed out, smelling of whiskey.”
“And those men, they were harassing you because of me, something I’d done, weren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“That won’t happen again.”
“Okay,” His harsh whisper tugged at her heart but didn’t banish doubt or heal her hurt.
“You’ve no reason to believe I’ll be different do you?”
Evie didn’t know what to say and so said nothing. She felt his gaze for a long moment before he looked away. Waves of emotion flowed off him but Ben didn’t break the silence between them. In fact, her husband didn’t speak again until a river halted them in their tracks around midday.
The road led directly into the water then reappeared across from them after a few wagon lengths. In either direction, the river stretched out as far as the eye could see without a bridge or ferry. Already miserable, her spirits sank further.
“The crossing will be rough.”
Evie watched a tree limb float past them, “Should we wait?”
“The rain isn’t letting up,” His tone grave, Ben waited for her to face him. “Best we go now, it’ll only get worse.”
Her lips pressed tight together, Evie nodded. He gave her shoulder a brief squeeze then eased them forward. Water churned around the wheels and in minutes splashed the mare’s belly.
Thunder clapped. Their small, light wagon barely resisted the current’s pull as they inched onward. Rain fell harder and soon drenched them. Her gaze swung to Ben, sought hope but found little comfort. His clenched jaw and rigid upper body shouted tension.
Without warning, the wagon shook hard. She glanced forward and saw Sugar had stumbled. They rocked dangerously as the mare struggled. Water whipped into froth around them. She grabbed Ben, her nails dug deep into his sleeve.
“We’ll be fine,” His voice gentle as he firmly removed her hand. “Stay calm.”
To her surprise and immense relief, he was right. Sugar regained her footing and they moved forward. Some tense moments later, they made it across. The muddy road sucked at the wheels, stalled them a few feet from their goal. Before Ben could object, Evie swung down to see if she could find some brush to help their traction. One slip and the current swept her away.
“Evie get back up here,” With a white knuckled grip on the reigns, Ben shouted. Thunder offered another roar, “Evie.”
Seconds stretched into a full minute. Water dripped off the brim of his hat into his eyes. The wagon rocked as Sugar pulled forward in starts and stops. His gaze searched frantically, unsuccessfully for his wife until he twisted to look where he wanted to least. His heart stopped. In a tangle of branches down river, yards from shore, he saw bright blue.
Immediately he dropped the reigns and jumped down. Ben ripped off his jacket as he ran along the bank. His hat blew off, his breath rasped and his still healing ribs screamed protests he ignored. He charged over rain-slicked earth until she was almost within reach then jumped in.
The icy water stole his breath. Choppy waves slapped his face. Ben grabbed one of the slick branches that trapped Evie and used it as an anchor. The current’s constant pull sapped at his strength. Hand over hand he advanced to his wife. Fingers numb, Ben reached her more through desperation than skill.
“Please God,” With one arm still wrapped around the branch, he pulled her against him, held her head above the water. Eyes closed and expression pale, slack, Evie didn’t respond.
With a sharp crack the branch he clung to broke, the water started to pull him away from his wife. Splinters pierced his skin as he clawed at other pieces of wood until he gained a new hold. Frantic, Ben groped underwater, blindly, until he found what exactly trapped Evie.
Wet, slimy branches wedged together, formed a deadly net, which held one leg fast. Wind whipped rain beat his skin as he tore at the sticks, cursed and pleaded with God. When at last he freed her, the current swept them down river. His muscles quivered as Ben fought to hold onto his wife.
His mind and body numb, he acted on instinct. Pain shot through his shoulder during the long process of towing Evie to shore, the cost of keeping her dead weight afloat. It took what felt like forever to reach land. For every yard forward they were carried several downstream but in the end, Ben got them to the shallows.
Weary, he struggled to stand. Thick muck imprisoned his foot when Ben tried to take a step. Frustration, worry and fear sent curses flying past his lips. He pulled up too hard and fell back, almost lost his hold on her when his shoulder slammed against an underwater stump.
Pain snapped everything into sharp focus. They had to get out of the water. Ben got to his feet and lifted Evie in his arms. Rain and wind continued unabated as he stumbled forward on pure stubborn will. His ribs on fire, he was barely able to breathe. He moved in a ragged diagonal path toward a clump of trees some distance from the water.
The water level dropped to mid-calf level. Movement became easier even as gusts of cold air sent daggers of frost through his clothing. Ben couldn’t feel his fingers, his feet felt like blocks of ice.
Determined, Ben trudged on. It seemed like an eternity before they were out and away from the river. He collapsed to his knees. Beyond exhaustion, he first sat then lay down on the ground, flat on his back, with Evie on top of him from the waist down. His arms held her close even as his eyes shut.
“Evie,” Ben woke with a start, looked up at a clear section of sky. The rain had stopped. In the cloud-strewn heavens, the sun shone directly overhead, which meant only a short time could have passed, “Evie?”
When she didn’t respond, he eased out from under her, laid her out beside him. Apprehension shook the hand as he stretched out above her mouth. Seconds passed. His heart crashed against his chest. Ben stared down at her pale features, panic built up swiftly, and then he felt her breath.
“Thank God.” He gathered her to him, rocked her in his arms. “Thank God.”
Without warning, Evie coughed then spewed a huge amount of river water over him. Ben froze. After a moment, he gently laid her down on her back. He rubbed his face with hands that shook then let out a long breath. Relieved, the slight rise and fall of her chest captivated him for a time.
Ben reached out and caressed her cheek. “Evie,” When that didn’t get a response, he shook her shoulder and got a mumble out of his wife. He tried again in a forceful tone. “Come on honey, open your eyes for me.”
Her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. His gaze drifted over the length of her, looked for obvious injuries. To his great relief, he spotted nothing but when he looked back at her face, blue tinged lips brought concern. Ben stood but a sound drew his attention before he took a step.
His thoughts sluggish, it took him a moment to link the noise with the sight of Sugar and their wagon a good distance up river. Ben raked fingers through his hair. He didn’t know what would be best. To build a fire quickly, he needed supplies. In his current condition, i
t’d take precious time to carry her or he could leave her here, rush to the wagon and drive back.
A low rumble of thunder interrupted his thoughts, caused him to look up. Angry clouds appeared in the distance, poised to retake the sky. He had to act. With the relative shelter of their branches, the trees several feet away, offered an option.
Sweat dripped into his eyes as Ben picked her up. Every few steps he had to stop and catch his breath. When they reached the destination, he set her down, touched her cheek then without giving himself the opportunity to waver, he strode away, refused to look back, eyes focused on his goal.
Concern that she remained unconscious haunted him, spurred Ben onward. His long strides covered ground rapidly. Along the way, he spotted his coat and hat and recovered them with little effort. The river roiled against the confines of its banks by the time he reached the wagon. He climbed up and slapped the reigns, drove at speed back to his wife.
Shivers racked Ben by the time he pulled up as close to her as he dared. He jumped down, hurried to the back and lowered the tailgate. With an armful of quilts and her bag snatched out of the bed, he ran to Evie.
At her side, he dumped it all on the ground. Ben spread out a blanket then with fingers made clumsy by cold and fear stripped off her soaked clothing. He wrapped the rest of the blankets snug around her. The entire time she remained unresponsive. Worried, he parted the covers just enough to put his ear on her bare chest.
Breath feathered the top of his head. Her steady heartbeat should’ve calmed Ben but instead fear clawed his belly. Evie’s skin felt so very cold. He got up, rushed back to the wagon to fetch their pallet.
Once Ben settled her on it, off the damp earth, he started a fire. He coaxed fire from a handful of twigs then fed it more tinder until he had a steady blaze. Careful not to smother it, he added some nearby sticks so the flames could devour the dry wood.
Wind whistled through the trees. Without pausing to enjoy the welcome heat, Ben stood. He gathered some armfuls of fallen branches and set them near the fire where he hoped they’d dry enough to use.
His teeth chattered as he returned to Evie’s side but Ben ignored his discomfort. He laid his palm against his wife’s cheek. She seemed warmer but he couldn’t be certain. His fingers were still numb.
The lure of dry clothes warred with the need to rest. He bowed his head, closed his eyes for a few seconds. Ben sighed then forced himself to move. If he didn’t take care of himself, he wouldn’t be able to help her much longer.
Evie still appeared out cold, which worried him. His gaze moved on, scanned landscapes. The flat land seemed empty. Once satisfied that no other threat was lurking he started to change.
Ben opened her bag and pulled out his dry clothing. His boots wouldn’t come off without a fight then the uncooperative material of his soaked clothing left him hissing in frustration before he got everything off. Finished, he kicked them to one side with gratuitous force. He propped his boots up on a rock near the fire to dry then piled more fuel on the flames.
A raindrop hit his arm. Ben glanced up and saw that storm clouds once again covered the sky.
A groan broke the quiet. Ben turned to look at his wife in time to see her eyes open at last. Relief turned to worry when Evie stared at him as though she’d never seen him before, her expression one of startled confusion.
Pain traveled up her neck to pounding temples. Her heavy eyelids lifted slowly. She groaned. Her vision a blur at first, Evie couldn’t comprehend what she’d seen. She squeezed her eyes shut tight then opened them again. Her breath caught. The fire cast gold light over Ben’s body, nude save for the bindings over his ribs.
Her conscious whispered to her that she should avert her eyes. Proper women simply didn’t stare at naked men even if the man was her husband. And yet Evie couldn’t look away. Ben turned to face her and smiled. A wave of scorching heat swept up her neck as he moved toward her.
“Hey stranger,” Ben sat down beside Evie, his bare thigh against her arm. She felt him despite the layers of blankets between them. “How are you?”
“Alive.”
“That’s half the battle.”
She grimaced. “What happened?”
“River carried you off,” he patted her shoulder. “You got caught in a mess of branches.” Ben carefully lifted the quilts off her enough to join Evie in the cocoon of warmth and molded his body to hers before she knew his intent. His arms wrapped around her a wealth of emotion delivered in his next, soft-spoken words. “I thought you’d drowned.”
“You saved me?”
“I got you to shore,” His tone matter of fact, Ben reached up, brushed hair off her forehead and dropped a soft kiss there.
“Thank you.”
“How do you feel?”
“My head hurts and I’m a little cold. Tired.”
“Is there any whiskey left?”
“Why? Are you in pain?” Her voice sharpened with concern.
“Not for me, for you.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’ve felt worse.”
Evie leveled a strict look at him, didn’t say a word.
“It hurts to breath but,” He grinned at her, one hand slid down her back then up along her ribs, brushed the side of her breast before it settled on her shoulder blade. “Maybe that’s because I’ve a beautiful woman in my arms.”
Her skin tingled where he’d touched. “Flirting with me will get you nowhere.” She tried to sound serious, firm but her breathless whisper gave lie to her words. “I’ve heard all your lines before.”
His gaze lowered to her mouth, “Shall we test your theory?”
“Ben I-” A hard shiver rocked her.
He bowed his head so his forehead touched hers. His voice husky, he whispered. “Sorry love I got carried away, that’ll have to wait until we get you all warmed up.”
“I-”
“Shall I go look for the whiskey or stay here and hold you?”
“You’re not wearing any clothes.”
“Just noticed that?”
“No I … ” Her cheeks felt a blaze. Rational thought fled. “Why?”
“The river was a mite wet.”
“And that’s … ah … why you removed mine too?”
“You were freezing. I had to.” Ben held her gaze steady as she fussed with the edge of the covers.
“Oh.” Seconds passed then Evie continued. “I put the whiskey in the box with the potatoes.”
“I’ll go get it.”
“Thank you.”
Ben eased out of their bed. With a firm grip on the quilts, Evie sat up. Her headache worsened. Without a word, her husband retrieved her bag and placed it against the base of the tree behind her. “Just rest, stay warm.”
Evie reclined. “Thanks.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Despite the pain behind her eyes, her gaze still followed her husband as he moved away from her, amazed at his apparent lack of self-consciousness. Ben threw more sticks on the fire then stepped over to the wagon. Minutes later, he brought her a bottle and a canteen. She noticed his lips were oddly pale before he stepped away.
“Thank you,” Evie watched, amazed as Ben returned to the wagon. She cleared her throat. “What are you doing?”
“Going to start some coffee.”
“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”
Ben walked past her, pot in hand to the fire. “Taking care of you first.”
“I’m fine.”
“Did you drink the whiskey?”
“I will.”
“Do it now.”
“You’re going to catch your death.”
“Does that worry you?” Ben stepped over, wedged the coffee pot between two fire ring rocks to heat near the flames.
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t my intention.” He stood, took a couple of steps, stopped beside a pile of clothes and started to dress.
Her head killing her, Evie took a healthy swig of the l
iquor and choked. She grabbed a canteen, tilted it back and gulped down water.
“Though to be honest I rather enjoyed you watching me.”
Evie spewed water for the second time that day. “What?”
“Are you all right?” Ben buttoned on pants that hung low on his hips. She couldn’t help but think about the fact he wore nothing underneath.
“Fine,” She sputtered, “Just fine.”
He shrugged into his flannel, an old brown shirt, faded from years of use. She’d threatened to toss it out numerous times but he’d always resisted. His dimples on full display, he’d claim it was comfortable, just broken in. Her lips curved at the memory, she relaxed just a little.
“So tell me,” he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, “have you always liked to do that?”
Confused, her brows drew together. “What?”
“Watch me parade around naked?”
Chapter Twelve
Her jaw dropped. His slight smirk caught her attention, made it plain Ben expected a certain reaction. Her shock faded and resolve stiffened her spine. It was time to show him he wasn’t the only one who knew how to play.
Her lips curved in a self-satisfied grin, “Yes.”
Ben stilled. He blinked several times. “Excuse me.”
Her smile broadened, stretched across her face, “Yes.”
“Are you saying-?”
“That I enjoyed seeing your body, yes. I especially always loved skinny dipping with you.”
“We … ”
“Were married for five years, we did many things.”
“I … I … ” Ben shoved his feet into his boots. “I’m going to get more wood.”
Evie chuckled under her breath as he swiftly walked away from her. She watched Ben use his coat as a bag and gathered more wood. Minutes later, he brought a load over. Sticks rained down onto the ground but before she could say anything, he moved off.
A short time passed, the sharp crack of a stick breaking floated through the trees. Evie could hear the murmur of Ben’s voice, the soft sounds of his footsteps. Another moment then the mare, Sugar, wandered close, munched on grass and her husband returned. Instead of greeting him with lively words, she yawned, the whiskey and her dunking combined made her sleepy.
Lori Connelly Page 14