“What’s wrong?” Evie called after him as he headed toward the dying fire.
“I forgot the coffee.”
“Oh, do we have time for it now?”
Ben knelt down next to the blackened pot then glanced back at her. “Are you in a hurry?”
“Well, we’re wasting daylight.”
“I suppose,” His tone lighthearted, playful, as he poured hot brew into two mugs. “That depends on what you consider wasteful.”
“You’re not in a hurry to get moving?” Evie set her plate down on the tailgate.
“Nope,” his warm gaze locked on hers, her husband walked up to her. “I’m enjoying a peaceful morning with my wife.”
The remnants of her ugly mood evaporated. Warmth filled her heart. A broad smile spread across her face. Evie beamed her pleasure as she accepted the cup he offered. Ben rummaged through a box until he found a little jar. With a grin, he spooned honey into her coffee.
“Thank you,” She leaned over and kissed his cheek when he sat back down beside her.
His arm came up and encircled her shoulders. Evie leaned against him. She sipped her sweetened coffee with eyes half closed. It was a precious moment, one to savor. She’d missed the effortless way they’d used to be with each other. No need for conversation, no awkward, strained silences, this was how it’d had been before.
Before. Evie stiffened. It would be easy to push aside the past, pretend it never happened. She straightened away from Ben. She’d done that before and he’d wounded her heart.
“Evie?”
“I’m going to start cleaning up.”
Ben slipped off the tailgate then helped her down. “It’s probably best we get moving. I just felt a raindrop.”
“Worried about crossing another river?”
“Concerned with possibilities,” he grinned. “But I’m sure we’ll be fine. I’ll go put out the fire and hitch up Sugar.”
“Okay.”
A few drops soon became a persistent drizzle. The rain provided strong motivation. Evie cleaned up and repacked the wagon in a matter of minutes. As soon as he finished with the horse, Ben shoved in the mattress then retied the canvas. A moment or two later they were headed down the road.
“What was bothering you this morning?”
“What?”
“You were a tad grumpy,” Ben shot a glance at her. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Not really,” Evie shook her head. Tense, she looked straight ahead, anticipated that he’d press the issue.
“All right, what would you like to talk about?”
“I don’t know.”
“How about you tell me your favorite color?”
Memory flashed. Her eyes welled with tears. He’d asked her that same question on their second date, a long buggy ride through the country. “Green.”
“Nice, the color of spring,” Ben laughed. “Well usually right now it seems to be grey. Mine used to be yellow.”
“Sunflowers and sunshine.”
“Exactly, how did you know?”
“Wild guess.”
“A good one,” he looked over at her again, his expression thoughtful. “But I believe I’ve changed my mind. Now I’d have to say blue.”
“Because that’s the color of my eyes,” A bittersweet pang went through her as the past continued to overlay the present.
“Another guess?”
“You could say that.”
Their conversation halted abruptly when, without warning, the steady rain became a deluge. Wind blew stronger. The road grew muddy and increasingly difficult. While Ben concentrated on driving, Evie focused on her husband.
In many ways, Ben was as he’d always been; smart, funny and, at times, downright charming. He didn’t remember the failures, disappointments and grief so it made perfect sense that his sour attitude had disappeared. She didn’t understand why his driving ambition also vanished. What changed? His need to succeed had always been part of him. Although Evie liked his new laid-back attitude, how could she trust that it was a real, lasting change without knowing what inspired it?
Their pace slowed to a crawl. The road dipped. They eased into a deep puddle and couldn’t get out. Time went unnoticed as they worked on the problem but no matter what they tried, the wagon wouldn’t budge. In the end, both husband and wife were muddy, wet, miserable and stuck exactly where they started.
Ben untied the end of the canvas and propped it up with a couple scavenged sticks. Evie crawled into the cramped shelter and moved things to give them as much room as possible. While she did that, he tended Sugar. Her husband unhitched the mare then tied her in a group of trees to give her some shelter. By the time he joined her, she’d made sandwiches. Uncomfortable and cramped, they ate while they waited for the storm to pass.
“Something bothering you?”
“Aren’t you mad?”
Ben shrugged which was quite a feat for the large man in the small space, “Frustrated.”
“But we’re stuck.”
“I chose to continue when the road got nasty.” Evie braced herself certain that if Ben wasn’t mad then he’d start berating himself instead he surprised her. “But I can’t undo what’s been done. Are you mad?”
Startled Evie stared at him. “No.”
“Good. Now since we’re likely to be here for awhile, any suggestions on how we pass the time?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Evie leveled a look at her husband, “Ben.”
“Yes dear,” His tone far too innocent to be believed.
“We’re in the middle of the road.” She gestured to the edge of the canvas held up just enough for them to see a few yards behind them. “Someone could ride up.”
“I can pull the canvas down.”
“No,” Her cheeks burned. “I’ll find our cards.”
“We have cards? That’s nice. What games do you know?”
“You taught me poker.” She dug the deck out of the basket.
“Thought you didn’t approve of that?”
Evie shuffled, considered his question a few seconds then answered, “Poker’s just a game. I objected to how you used it.”
“What didn’t you like?”
“Gambling with the intentional cheating.”
“You think I cheated?” His voice tight, controlled, but he spoke without heat.
Evie started to deal out the cards then paused. In the dim light she looked up into green eyes, studied them a moment while she considered her answer. In the end she decided though it’d likely be painful to hear, it was best to stick to the truth, evading would serve nothing. She took a breath.
“It took months to sell one horse after the others were lost and that was for a fraction of what you’d expected.” She put the remaining cards in a stack between them.
Ben picked up the hand she’d dealt him. “And I became a bitter drunk.”
“You lost faith in everyone.” Evie struggled to find the right words as she arranged her hand to her liking. “You’d say there was no point in being good when others got to do whatever they wanted to do.”
“You took that to mean I stopped being good?”
“Usually when we’ve needed money, you picked up odd jobs, but instead of working you spent your time at The Dancing Pony.”
“Why didn’t I catch more horses?” Ben put three cards down while she discarded two.
“You said you didn’t see the point.” She drew replacement cards, “Others reaped rewards doing nothing so why work hard.”
Ben laid down a pair of tens but she won the hand with three twos. “You don’t approve of profiting from gambling?”
“I think if fools sit down at a table and willingly lay their money on the luck of the draw it’s their business.”
“So you only disagree with me in particular gambling?”
“I object to cheating.”
“If I was a cheat,” Distain dripped from his voice. His gaze focused on the cards he shuffled, expression grim. “I must not
have been a good one. We’ve little more than the clothes on our backs.”
Evie hesitated, uncertain whom her husband intended the scorn for, and considered her options. She could go on or not say another word. After a moment, she pressed on, the truth however much it may hurt him was important.
“At cards? You were good but then you drank away most of your winnings.”
“How do you know I cheated?” He slapped down cards, his tone angry, raw. The storm outside intensified. Wind howled. Rain drummed. “How do you know I wasn’t just a skilled player?”
Her legs shifted, restless. She slowly picked up the cards he’d dealt, took her time arranging them. “The sheriff came by. There were a number of complaints against you.”
“And you believed the complaints?” Ben demanded sarcasm a heavy flavor in his voice.
“No,” Voiced in her single whispered word was all the pain born out of shattered faith. “I knew you were having a hard time but I believed you were a good man. I trusted you.”
Silence descended. They played the next few hands without exchanging a single word. The wind died. Only the raindrops made sound as they splattered on the canvas stretched above.
Ben cleared his throat, “The sheriff changed your mind?”
“No. He warned you and left.”
“Then why are you certain I was guilty?”
“All you said to Sheriff Green was if he wasn’t going to arrest you then leave. Rude but calm, unusual for a man who prized his honor and always vehemently defended it.”
“Maybe I blamed the man for losing my horses.”
“Perhaps,” Evie put down the cards she held and looked out at the grey shaded world. The road remained empty. She looked back at her husband. “You wouldn’t look me in the eye when I asked what was going on. You said it was nothing I’d want to know about and stomped out of the house. I knew then.”
Her heart ached. Chilled in her damp, muddy clothing she shivered. Evie gathered up the cards and shuffled restlessly.
“At cards.”
“What?”
“You said I was a good cheater at cards.”
“Yes.”
“The implication is that I wasn’t at something else.”
“Look,” The clouds had parted. Scattered rays of sunlight illuminated. “I think it’s stopped raining.”
“Evie.”
With a heavy sigh, she answered. “As far as I know there was only one other matter.”
“Which was?”
“You sold the last horse to a neighbor. He paid a good price for the well-trained animal you promised him but Spice was only green broke. His son was thrown.”
Her husband’s expression became stone. His bloodless lips set in a hard line. Flat, emotionless eyes held her captive.
“You folks okay?”
A voice from outside broke the moment. Evie looked out to see a couple men peering in at them. Without a word to her, Ben crawled out. Evie followed her husband, stood at his side while he explained their situation. Several minutes later, with the young men’s help, they loosed the wagon.
After that, the strangers accompanied them for a few hours, traded stories with Ben. It was late in the afternoon before their company rode off. As soon as they were alone, her husband became withdrawn. He pulled off the road as soon as they found a good spot to camp.
Throughout the evening, Ben barely spoke. He gathered pine boughs and made their bed while she made dinner. Evie watched and worried as her husband tended chores. Pronounced lines of strain marred his handsome face. He moved like an old man. Her attempts to talk to him were politely but firmly rebuffed.
Stars winked in the sky when Evie crawled under the covers to wait for her husband. A nearby creek delivered the peaceful sound of running water. Ben slipped in beside her. A chorus of frogs croaked. She lightly touched his hand. He turned his palm up and clasped hers.
“Was he okay?”
Warmth flowed through Evie. She closed her eyes. That was the reaction she’d expected the first time she’d told him about Talbert’s son. To hear it now, restore a little faith, brought hope that she could believe in her husband.
“He broke his arm but otherwise he was okay.”
“Thank God.” Ben gave her fingers a gentle squeeze then spoke with careful deliberation. “I don’t know what happened to me, why I acted without scruples but my honor is very important to me. Whatever possessed me won’t again.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
Ben turned on his side, brought his hand up and brushed her cheek. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t believe me?”
“I want to,” Her gaze locked on his while her ears rang with hard pounding of her heart. “I really do.”
“But?”
“What happens when you remember? When you remember why?”
Chapter Sixteen
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“No.”
There was a long silence, “Something about James.”
“No,” Her voice heated, Evie stiffened. “Where did that come from?”
“You rarely speak of him.”
Her hand moved down, rested on her lower belly. She blew out a breath. “Right after we lost James, he was all we spoke about. We cried. We grieved. Time passed and we talked about him less but there’s nothing about our son I haven’t told you.”
“You’ve gotten over him.”
“I don’t think a person ever gets over losing their child but I’ve accepted it, we both did,” Her tone weary, hollow.
“It all seems unreal.”
“Losing our son?”
“Everything you’ve described about our life together.”
Agitated she tried to move away but Ben put his arm around her, kept her close. “That’s why I worry.”
“Why? Make me understand.”
“When you remember, when everything seems real, I think that may change how you feel about things.”
Ben kissed her forehead, “Whether or not I regain those memories, I’ll never compromise my integrity again, promise.”
Absolute conviction burned in his voice, made her want to believe him. His thumb brushed across her cheek. Ben raised her hand to his lips, kissed each finger.
“Do you hope I remember or wish that I don’t?”
“Honestly?” A flush crept up her neck. “Both.”
“Care to tell me why?”
Evie pulled her hand free. Her voice held worry, tension and a suggestion of challenge, “Does our marriage seem real?”
“You are very real to me.”
“You don’t remember me. Can you really care about us?”
“Yes I can.”
Doubt rushed in, ugly, denied the answer she most wanted to believe. “How can you? You don’t know me.”
“I know enough to like you, be attracted to you.”
“You’ve known me a few weeks, days really because at first you were in such bad shape.” Restless she shifted, part of her wanted to pull away, run from the awkward, emotional discussion.
“More than enough time.”
“Maybe you’re just making the best of a bad situation.”
“You consider our marriage a bad situation?”
Her teeth sawed her bottom lip a moment, “Sometimes.”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize I welcome the honesty.”
“Still I didn’t have to be so blunt.”
“It’s fine,” Ben assured her though she could hear the strain in his voice. He tucked a few wayward strands of hair behind her ear, “And I do care for you Evie Rolfe.”
“You barely know me.”
“I know enough.”
“Ben I-”
“I know you don’t like early mornings but you get up and do what’s needed anyway. I know I’ve done wrong by you yet you nursed me, took care of me and stayed with me. I know you’re bright and compassionate. I know unless they’re stealing bre
ad seeing a wild animal makes you smile. I know when I hold you in my arms you tremble. And I know when you’re near, all I want to do is kiss you, touch you and give you pleasure.”
Hope sparked within her. “That’s quite a list.”
“I aim to please.” His low voice packed with raw need, his breath caressed on her lips. “Can I kiss you now?”
Evie set her worries aside, “Please.”
Gentle fingers caressed her cheek. Blood rushed through her veins. She held herself rigid as her husband brushed his lips against hers then pulled back. The tease of a kiss stole her breath. His thumb caressed the sensitive skin of her bottom lip. He kissed one corner of her mouth then the other.
“Please,” Her breath fast, her whisper a plea.
Ben claimed her mouth again and this time didn’t stop. He deepened the kiss. His tongue tasted, demanded. Sensation shot through Evie. Her lips parted, allowed him further intimacy.
Passion soared as he probed the recesses of her mouth. She squirmed, whimpered and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lower body strained to get closer. His hand moved down, grasped her hip and pressed her to him.
His mouth lifted, breath hard, voice rough, “I need you.”
One hand moved up her body and cupped her breast. Evie gasped. He captured her lips again, hungry, urgent. She lost herself in the wave of passion her husband created for several long moments then he shifted. His rigid arousal pressed against her thigh through their respective layers of clothing. Icy cold reality clashed with the heat of excitement.
Torn, confused, Evie broke off the kiss, brought her hands down to his shoulders and started to scoot back. He halted her retreat with a firm grip on her hip. His lips found the side of her neck. He spread wet, hot kisses down to her shoulder. His teeth raked sensitive skin. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
“Ben.”
His palm moved over her hip to the soft curves behind. He pressed her against him, “Evie.”
“Ben I-” His tongue ran over her collarbone. Her fingers dug into his broad shoulders. Thoughts scattered.
Voice husky, his head lowered, “Yes.”
His mouth closed over the peak of her breast. Evie sucked in a breath. She arched, her body taut as his tongue lapped, wet her shirt. Quilts slid down. His hand started to bunch up her skirt.
Lori Connelly Page 19