Lori Connelly (15 page)

Ben squeezed her fingers. “It’ll be all right.”

The warmth reflected in his dark green depths stirred up bittersweet longing, a desire to be as carefree as they’d been in her dream. For a couple of seconds, she smiled. Her tangled thoughts simplified. Evie squeezed back.

“I hope so.”

Despite his grin, his expressed seemed drained. Her guilt rekindled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Evie arched an eyebrow. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“I don’t think I’m a believable guy,” He rubbed the stubble that covered his chin and had the audacity to wink.

Hand in hand, they returned to the house. Her face heated as she took in the broad smiles and knowing looks of the farmer and his wife. Evie was grateful the goodbyes were swift and a few minutes later they were in the wagon headed down the road.

The day passed quickly. With steady traffic, every time one of them attempted to broach any serious issue a vehicle or rider would appear. By dusk Evie felt strained again. Her composure brittle, body tense, she noted turkey vultures circled in the distance, in the direction they were going. The symbolism soured her stomach.

They made camp in a large meadow only a few yards off the road. With sparse trees, the wide-open area again left her with the sensation of being exposed, vulnerable. Edgy, she waited for her husband to bring up what she’d worried all day over but throughout the evening, he kept the conversation light.

The moon shone in the clear, star-studded sky when she slid the last dinner dish back into a box. A faint breeze whispered through the grass, carrying a bite to it and Evie shivered as she walked over to join her husband by the fire, grateful for her cloak.

Ben turned, faced her. His gaze wandered from the top of her uncovered head to the tips of her battered boots then back up to meet her eyes. He held her gaze a long moment then turned back to bank the fire. Anticipation made her pulse race when he finished and took her hand, led her over to their bed under the wagon.

As he sank down, she lingered a minute on her feet. Evie studied the bright stars while a rustling filled her ears. Her heart pounded in her chest. Palms dampened. She wondered if Ben had undressed completely as he had the night before.

Quiet, heavy and expectant, continued for the next few minutes even as the wind picked up strength. Even with the bright moonlight, she could barely make out the trees at the meadows edge. Boughs bent, they swayed in rhythm. Nervous, she removed her cloak, knelt down then crawled in to lie beside her husband. Evie could feel Ben awake beside her. Words tumbled through her mind as she tried to think of what to say.

“That was some kiss at the farm.”

With an audible intake of breath, Evie turned from her back to her side, stared at her husband. “Ah yes it was.”

“Thinking about it is keeping me awake.” His arm snaked out, pulled her close.

Her voice breathless, “Don’t think about it then.”

“I can’t help it. It’s been on my mind all day.”

“Ben.”

“Evie,” his hand caressed up her back to the nape of her neck. “Would you kiss me like that again?”

“Ben I …  No,” she couldn’t think straight, felt agitated.

His fingers threaded into her braid. “No?”

“No, we need to talk.”

“Maybe we’ve talked enough,” His lips grazed her temple.

Her words came softly. “It’s so hard to resist you.”

“Then don’t.”

“I don’t think it’s the right thing to do.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a woman kissing her husband.”

“Um no, not exactly but,” A lump formed in her throat and she couldn’t continue. She shook her head.

“But you don’t you want to?”

Evie cleared her throat. “I do,” Even in the darkness, she felt the full force of his charming grin. “But …  ” Her voice trailed off. His nearness intoxicated her. Reason battled with longing, she leaned into him. “I … ”

“Evie?”

“No,” Her hands curled into fists. Evie pulled back as memories both sweet and sad tormented her. She squeezed her eyes shut but a couple of tears leaked out. “I don’t want …  ”

“What don’t you want?”

“It to,” Her breath hitched. A tremor rocked her. She sniffed, “happen again.”

“What do you mean?” His tone gentle, Ben reached out wiped her cheeks dry.

“Before,” Misery shadowed her heart. “When we’d survived another bad stretch, when we’d start getting along, we’d start kissing and,” Her voice rough with emotion, rasped. “Well the intimate part of our marriage has always been the easiest,” Evie released a shaky breath then opened her eyes, leveled her gaze at her husband and tried to make Ben understand. “But passion only lasts so long, it burns hot and fast then it’s over and we fall apart.”

“You’re worried I’m moving too fast?” His fingers brushed over the length of her jaw then down the side of her neck.

His caress caused the flow of her thoughts to sputter. A number of seconds passed before she could answer. “Yes.”

“Well, pretty lady,” His hand slid possessively around the curve of her hip. “How about we take it slow?”

The statement hung in the air between them like a living thing. Nerves wobbled her tone. “What do you have in mind?”

“Kisses,” his voice soothed as one gently brushed over her hair. “Just your sweet kisses tonight.”

“Just kisses?” She echoed.

“Yes,” Ben inched closer, cradled her against him.

The wind’s whine faded from her consciousness. His warmth intoxicated. Evie couldn’t resist a touch. She placed one hand on his chest, felt bare skin and sucked in a breath.

“Yes.”

His fingers trailed the length of her spine and stroked the base. His hand moved slowly over the curve of her hip then Ben reached up, took hold of her hand. Her breath quickened, heart pounded when he kissed the back then turned it over. His lips caressed her palm, the inside of her wrist then worked his way up to the crook of her elbow. He stopped there, put her hand on his shoulder.

Evie pressed a soft kiss in the hollow of his throat then looked up, breathed his name. Anticipation pumped through his veins. His mouth hovered above hers, only a whisper away. She closed her eyes and he could wait no longer. He swooped down to claim her lips. His kiss, at first, soft, a lover’s greeting then slowly Ben demanded more.

Desire liquid heat in his veins, his tongue teased at her bottom lip. He increased pressure. With a muffled groan, her lips parted. Ben deepened the kiss, delved in to taste his wife.

In seconds his need spiked, almost overwhelmed. He tore his mouth from hers. His lips glided over her cheek. Her hands clutched his shoulders as his teeth teased her earlobe. His body, hard, already ached for release.

Breath rough, ragged, Ben molded her curves tight against him then rolled onto his back taking her with him. Evie gave a startled cry then fell silent when his motion ended with her on top of him. For a moment she stared at him frozen then with slow deliberation his wife leaned down nuzzled his cheek. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, stoked his passion. Strands of her hair trailed, feather light, over his face as she eased back. He reached up with both hands to stop her.

His hands curved over her jaw brought her mouth down within reach. Lips now forceful with need, his kiss devoured. Evie squirmed. Her thighs brushed over his hardness repeatedly. His hands moved over her sides then roamed down her back, impatient, driven. A moment later, she unexpectedly broke off contact.

Unfazed, Ben rained hot, wet kisses along her jaw then down the side of her neck. A whimper escaped her. Hungry for more, his mouth captured hers again. She arched against him, tangled her fingers in his hair. Their tongues danced. Desire consumed him almost to the point of being out of control. With his arms wrapped around her, Ben rolled them again to lie on top of her.

His fingers moved to the buttons of her dress. Lost in the moment and sensations that burned along nerves, the consequences of what Ben was doing it didn’t register at first. When his hand brushed her breast, panic cut through the haze that fogged her mind. Evie turned her face to the side and pushed on his shoulders.

“Please stop.”

Ben pulled back. Drained, Evie had no words to express the feelings that stormed within her. For some time, they remained frozen. Their harsh breathing filled her ears. For reasons she didn’t understand Evie struggled against the urge to cry.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Ben rolled off her then reached out with one arm and cuddled her to his chest. “I’m not.”

“But I … ” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry.”

He dropped a kiss on her hair. “Stop it.”

“Sorry.”

“Evie.”

“Yes,” Edgy, she fidgeted. Her thigh brushed him and he winced.

“Maybe we should get some sleep.” His strained voice only increased her tension.

Her heart still pounded. Her breath had yet to slow. His suggestion seemed ridiculous. “Sleep? You want to sleep
now
?”

“What I want-” Ben stopped. He sucked in a deep, audible breath. The arm around her shoulders tightened then relaxed as he exhaled. “My side is throbbing, I need to rest.”

Confused and a little irritated, she didn’t press, “Fine.”

“Evie.”

“What?”

“Nothing …  Good night.”

“Good night Ben.”

Even as she said the words, Evie didn’t really believe her husband would try to sleep. Certain Ben would admit what he’d proposed was impossible, she waited, silent. With each breath, her anxiety sharpened. She couldn’t settle down. Every second her need to talk over what happened increased. Her lips parted then clamped shut as an all too familiar noise filled the air.

Evie stared at her husband in utter disbelief. It took less than a minute for doubt to creep in. His touch had swept her away as usual but Ben didn’t appear affected by her. Tears stung her eyes. Their kisses couldn’t have meant much to him, not if he could sleep so easily. Wide-awake, she shifted onto her back, looked up at the underside of the wagon. Thoughts tormented her, denied her rest most of the night.

“Good morning.” Evie forced open gritty eyes to see Ben crouched by her side. “Breakfast is ready.”

“I’m not hungry.” Her stomach growled before she finished speaking, revealed her false words.

His chuckle did nothing to improve her mood. Evie scowled but resisted the urge to snarl at him again as she swept back the covers, scooted out of bed. The lonely call of a hawk came with the breeze. She got to her feet then stomped the few steps to the end of the wagon.

“There’s a small stream at the edge of the meadow, more like a trickle really.”

Evie ignored his cheerful comment, snatched up her cloak and continued to stomp her way toward some brush. She returned a few minutes later to find her husband right where she’d left him. Ben gestured to a pot on the tailgate.

“I got you some water to wash with,” He sounded markedly pleased.

“Thank you,” Out of sorts, her words terse.

“You’re welcome.” Ben leaned against the wagon.

His gaze followed her as Evie walked over and retrieved her bag from the bed. She pulled out a sliver of soap then splashed cool water over her face. A quick wash made her skin feel clean and refreshed but didn’t improve her mood one iota.

The day had dawned dull. The sky overcast, grey. A damp layer of dew settled on everything. Evie wrapped the soap in a dry scrap of cloth, put it away and pulled out her brush. While she worked on her hair, her gaze wondered everywhere but toward her husband, though she was vividly aware of the man only steps from her.

Soft thuds heralded his movement. In seconds, she felt Ben right behind her. She focused on a stubborn tangle, refused to glance in his direction.

“I’ll go get your food.”

His light kiss on the nape of her neck shocked her. She froze. Ben had always been one for gestures of affection in public and private that is until bitterness ate away at the loving man she’d known. A kiss separate from the pursuits of the marriage bed become so rare she no longer expected that kind of spontaneous touch from her husband. She turned, stared after him as he walked over to the fire. Words escaped her while she watched him fill their plates with fry bread and beans.

When Ben started to walk toward her, carrying their meals, Evie at last looked away. She quickly finished her braid and put the brush back, set her bag on the ground. He joined her as she straightened. Slowly, she turned, faced him. He set their plates down. Awareness arched between them.

Before she could say a word, Ben spanned her waist with his hands, lifted her onto the tailgate. His gaze steady on hers, he lingered. His fingers moved in a gentle caress. Her breath hitched. He smiled and stepped back.

“Thank you,” her voice soft, mood improved as Ben handed her food then sat beside her.

“You’re welcome.”

Evie bit into the bread with trepidation. She remembered the last time he’d made food. It was heavy but quite good.

“Mm, good job on the bread.”

“Actually,” She glanced over to see heat spread across his cheeks. “I was trying to make biscuits.”

Lips pressed tight together, she choked back laughter. “It tastes good regardless.”

“I’m glad you like it and you don’t have to worry about the beans. They were out of a can, I just heated them.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.”

Except for the scrap of forks, the meal was silent. Ben cleaned his plate first. He looked around, quiet, waited for her to finish. All of a sudden, he swore under his breath and hopped down.

“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.”