Behind His Blue Eyes (25 page)

“Of course.”

One more kiss, then he rose and left the room.

The Abrahams were already eating when he entered the kitchen. Ethan took his usual chair, spooned a portion of stew onto the plate in front of him, and dug in.

No one spoke. Curtis wasn't much of a talker, anyway, but Winnie's reticence was unusual. Mostly she chewed and thought, her dark gaze aimed his way. But she held her silence until Ethan finished eating and pushed back his plate.

“You ask her yet?”

He didn't pretend ignorance. “Twice.”

“What'd she say?”

“She's thinking about it.”

“Humpf.” Rising, the old woman began clearing the table. “Child does too much of that, you ask me. Needs to stop thinking and start doing. Get on with life before it pass her by.”

“Given time, I think she'll come around.”

“Time, she got in plenty. What she lacking is good sense.”

Curtis nodded toward the porch. “I unsaddled your horse and put him in the paddock with Cricket. Fed him, too. Looks like rain, so I left a stall door open.”

Ethan had wondered about the heavy stickiness in the air. He'd blamed it on nerves, but apparently a warm spring rain was on the way. “I appreciate that.”

“Saddle was loaded up like you was leaving town. Didn't know whether to leave everything tied where it was, or bring it inside.”

“I'm not leaving town. I'm staying here, instead.”

Winnie turned from the sink to frown at him.

“On the couch,” he added. “There's a killer running loose, and I'll be staying until he's caught.” He looked from Winnie to Curtis, waiting for them to object.

Neither did.

Curtis pushed back his chair and rose. “Left your things on the porch. See you in the morning.”

Winnie remained by the sink, drying dishes with more vigor than necessary.

“I'm here as added protection, Winnie. That's all.”

Setting down her towel, she turned. “And why you think a killer be coming after two worn-out Africans, a woman, and a sick old man? What we ever do to warrant that?”

“I don't know why he does what he does, Winnie. Maybe he doesn't have a reason, but kills because he likes it. Or picks victims randomly whenever they cross his path. I just want to keep all of you safe.”

“Makes no sense.” Winnie sucked on her bottom lip and thought for a moment. “From what I hear, he mostly after railroad folks.”

Ethan didn't mention the dead prospector. “So it would seem.”

“Then maybe he come after you next. Maybe by staying here, you bring him right to our door.”

Ethan sat back, shocked that he hadn't thought of that. Could he be a target? Was his presence here putting them in more danger, instead of less? “Should I go?”

“No, you best stay. Either way, he crazy, and we better off with you around. But on the couch. Understand?”

Ethan nodded. “I understand.” Rising, he went to get his belongings from the porch. When he returned, the kitchen was empty.

He stood for a moment, listening to the soft
whump
of distant thunder, then, calling Phe, went back out onto the porch as the first fat drops began to fall.

Twenty-five

J
arred from deep sleep, Audra bolted upright, her pulse pounding in her ears, fear clutching at her throat.

It was dark. Other than the tap of raindrops against the glass panes of her windows, all was quiet. Then what had awakened her?

Throwing back the covers, she rose and padded from the room. The plank floor felt cool and gritty beneath her feet. Cooking odors hung in the windowless hallway, along with the smell of urine from the linens she had left on the landing after changing Father's bed. Pausing outside his room, she listened. Heard nothing.

Alarmed, she pushed open the door.

He sucked in a deep gasping breath, panted several times as if starving for air, then finally settled into his usual snore.

Dear God.
She sagged against the door frame, her legs wobbly with relief. Was he forgetting how to breathe, too? After a few minutes, once she had assured herself that he was breathing regularly, she pulled the door shut.

Darkness closed around her. The air felt thick. Hard to breathe. In the distance, thunder rumbled like heavy stones rolling across a wooden bridge. Too awake to go back to sleep, she returned to the bedroom for her robe. She put it on, tied the sash, then moved to the top of the stairs and looked down, thoughts racing through her head. No light showed, not even a flicker of firelight across the floor.

Was he asleep? Listening to the rain? Thinking of her?

She closed her eyes, imagined him in the dark. The need to see him rose inside her like a flood, drowning reason and filling her body with a nameless want.

Just a touch. A hand to hold on to. Something to tell her she wasn't alone.

She shouldn't go down there. A virtuous woman wouldn't. It was a violation of all the rules of decorum and everything she'd been taught.

She went down the stairs.

It was cooler at the bottom. Less stuffy. Quiet as a tomb.

She glanced toward the kitchen. It was dark except for the slightly paler square of the window over the sink. No coals glowed on the hearth. Phe didn't come to greet her as she usually did when Audra came down. Puzzled, she turned toward the other end of the long open room where the couch was. If Ethan snored, she couldn't hear him. Was he even there? Moving silently on bare feet, she crossed into the parlor, where she found a tangle of bedding strewn across the cushions, but no Ethan.

As she straightened, a breath of cool air swirled around her ankles and fluttered the hem of her robe. Realizing the front door was open, she moved silently toward its paler shadow in the blackness of the wall. At the threshold, she stopped and listened. Faint breathing. The rhythmic creak of the rocker.

“Ethan?”

“Jesus!” A clatter as he leaped from the rocker. Canine toenails scrabbling on wooden planks. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Hush. You're frightening Phe.” Bending, she held out a hand to the dog cowering at the end of the porch. “Come, sweetie. It's just me. You're all right.”

The dog sidled warily closer, then relaxed against Audra's leg when she realized she'd been summoned for an ear-scratching, rather than a kick.

“What are you doing, creeping around in the dark?” Ethan asked, still standing beside the chair.

Now that she was here, all the reasons that had compelled her to come seemed foolish and immature. She was afraid? Lonely? Looking for someone to chase her night terrors away? She wasn't a child.

Giving Phe one last pat, she straightened and walked to the railing. Lifting her face to the cool night air, she closed her eyes and let the patter of slow rain soothe away the last remnants of whatever had awakened her.

“My father is dying.”

She didn't realize Ethan had moved until she felt his breath in her hair. A moment later, his arms slid around her from behind and pulled her back against his warm, hard chest. “I'm sorry.”

He felt so solid. Real. Strong enough to hold her if she fell. That awareness opened something inside her, released the fear and pain she'd held inside for so long. Folding her arms over his, she leaned against him and let his strength flow through her. “I thought I would have more time with him. I wanted that so badly. Prayed for it. But now . . .”

Her voice broke. Tears burned in her eyes. “He's suffering so much, Ethan. He's so angry, and bitter, and confused. I just want him to find peace.”

“I know.” His arms tightened. Warm breath swept past her ear.

Turning her head into the hollow of his throat, she felt the strong, steady beat of his pulse against her temple. “I'm glad you're here, Ethan.”

“I wouldn't be anywhere else. This is where I belong.”

For a long time they stood that way, his arms around her waist, her head turned and resting on his chest, the steady drip of rain matching the tempo of his heart against her back.

She loved this man. Needed him. Wanted him in ways she was only now beginning to understand.

But yet, that last niggling doubt remained. As persistent as a fly buzzing circles in her mind, it finally drove her to speak. “Do you love me, Ethan?”

His hesitation lasted less than a heartbeat, but still, she noted it.

“You really have to ask?”

Answer a question with a question. Which was no answer at all.

“Yes, I have to ask.”

“Of course I do.”

“Then say it.”

Another hesitation. But this time, he moved his hands to her shoulders and turned her around to face him. “What's this about, Audra?”

“It's about everything, Ethan. The most important thing.”

“I don't understand.”

“I need to know that I'm not just another stray you feel you have to rescue. That this is more than duty or obligation. I want to know that you truly love me, Ethan. And I need to hear you say that.”

“I do love you, Audra. And have, since the first day. To be precise,” he added with a chuckle, “it was when you asked me to shoot you. I'd never had a request like that before.”

“Don't make jokes about this, Ethan. I couldn't bear it.”

“Sweetheart.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her. “I'm not joking. When I saw you sitting there by your broken buggy, I expected tears, pleas, the whole helpless female act. Instead, you asked me to shoot you. Hell, you even instructed me where to put the bullet. I knew then that you were a woman with rare strength. And a bizarre sense of humor, which I admired even more.”

She shrugged to hide how much his words had pleased her. “That's not very romantic.”

“Oh. You want romance. Then how about the day you accused me of setting fire to your cabin? That was when I knew I had to have you for my wife.”

“You're absurd.”

“Maybe.” Yet, his voice held no amusement, and there was a light tremble in his hands as he brushed back her hair. “But until that moment, I didn't realize how much your trust and respect meant to me.”

“You were never truly in danger of losing it. I was wrong to accuse you.”

“Thank you for that.” Dipping his head, he gave her another quick kiss. “But the day I knew how much I needed you was when I found Gallagher whipping you. That was the worst moment in my life. Just the thought of losing you . . .”

Hearing the emotion in his voice brought a catch to hers. “But again, you came to my aid.”

“And I always will, Audra. It's what I want to do. What I need to do. Because you're the woman I'll love all the rest of my life.”

Unable to speak, she put her arms around his neck. “I love you, too, Ethan.”

He hugged her hard and for a long time, then, keeping his hands on her hips, leaned back to look at her. “Since when?”

“Since the fire.” Needing to touch him, she smoothed the shirt over his chest, learning the curves and hollows of his muscular frame. “When Father ran off and I found you sitting on the log beside him in the woods. You were so gentle and patient with him. So kind. How could I not love a man like that?” She rose on her toes to kiss him, then kissed him again because she liked doing it. He tasted like coffee and cinnamon and Ethan. When she finally settled back on her heels, that odd, delicious, shimmery feeling was surging through her again. “So when are we going to have that audition?”

His arms dropped away. “We're not,” he said, and put space between them.

Undeterred, she stepped forward to fill it. “Ever?” She trailed a teasing fingertip up his chest to circle that deep hollow at the base of his throat.

“Audra, stop.”

Leaning against him, she locked her arms around his neck. “Stop what?” she whispered into his ear.

“Teasing me.” He was breathing faster now and heat was rolling off his tense body. “I'm trying to do the right thing here.”

“Why? I want you. You want me, too.” As she spoke, she pressed her pelvis against his. “I can feel it.”

“Audra!”

But she noticed he didn't move away. She kissed his neck, ran the tip of her tongue around that hollow in his throat, felt muscles flex against her breasts. “Did you bring the preventatives?”

“Jesus.” With a groan of defeat, he grabbed her at the waist and turned her around so that her back was against him. “I have another idea.” One hand moved up to stroke her breast. The other turned her head back toward his. “Kiss me and I'll show you.”

Twisting, she rose eagerly to meet him. It was a slow, lingering kiss that awakened that urgent, restless yearning again and sent heat pooling low and deep in her belly.

Then he was loosening the sash and sliding his hand inside her robe. He pulled down her shift. Cool air swept over her exposed breast before he covered it with his warm hand.

She shivered, feeling again the hot rush of desire. Arching into his hand, she rose for a deeper kiss. Less gentle now. Insistent. Hungry.

“You're so soft,” he whispered against her mouth, his fingers tracing slow, teasing circles. “So perfect.” He tugged at a hard peak.

Sensation flooded her body, robbed her of thought. Breaking the kiss, she leaned back against him, mouth open, her mind in shambles.
Don't stop.

His other hand drifted down past her waist, lower, fingers pulling up her gown. “I want to touch you. Feel your heat.”

She shivered, anticipation arcing through her as cool air reached her knees, her thighs. Then he was there. Touching her where no one ever had. Making her feel things she had never felt.

She was panting now, her legs trembling, her hands clutching at his arm.

“Shh,” he whispered, his other hand still stroking her breast. “I've got you. Just let go.”

She forgot how to breathe. How to think. Mindless with something she didn't understand, she reached up and grabbed his head, pulled it down to hers.

“Ethan,” she gasped, her mouth open to his, her body straining, needing something . . . wanting . . .

Then suddenly it burst inside her. Rolling through her limbs in pulsing waves. Transporting her into white, hot light where she lost herself in pure delight.

It seemed forever before she found herself again. Her breathing slowed. Tiny sparks of pleasure danced along nerves that felt flayed, and her heart fluttered like wings against the walls of her chest. If he hadn't been holding her, her legs would have given way.

“Oh my Lord,” she gasped.

Chuckling softly, he pulled her robe closed and wrapped his arms around her. “Now you'll marry me.”

* * *

Audra slept late the next morning—Father, too, it seemed, judging by the snore on the other side of the wall. She dressed hurriedly, wavering between the need to rush down to see Ethan, and the urge to hide in her room until she was certain he'd left. Had she truly behaved in such a brazen manner? In front of the dog?

And yet, whenever she allowed herself to think about what Ethan had done, and how she had felt when he'd done it, she wanted to find him and do it again.

She was a brazen hussy. A true wanton. They had best marry soon or she would disgrace herself forever.

When she finally went downstairs, not only was Ethan still there, he was sitting at the table, gobbling food like a starving man and looking supremely pleased with himself.

“Good morning,” she said, avoiding his eyes as he rose to pull out her chair.

“I told them,” he said.

Knees buckling, she sank onto the seat. “You
what
?”

Curtis grinned and nodded.

“Congratulations,” Winnie called from the stove. “When you finally doing it?”

“D-Doing it?”

Laughing at her look of horror, Ethan returned to his chair on the other side of the table. “Getting married.”

Air rushed out of her. She glared at him, wanting to strike him. Hug him. Do that thing again. “I'm n-not sure,” she stammered.

It pleased her that her answer wiped the smug look off his face, so just for spite, she added, “I wouldn't want to rush into anything, you see.” Which—despite her lamentable lapse into wanton behavior—was true. But when she saw Ethan's look of disappointment and hurt, she let her annoyance go on a sigh.

“It's Father. I've always dreamed of him walking me down the aisle. But now . . .” She shrugged to cover the sudden tightness in her throat. “I don't know what to do. He wouldn't understand and it would only confuse him. But to marry without him at my side . . . it doesn't feel right.” She looked to Ethan for understanding, but he said nothing, his mouth set in a grim line.

Curtis sighed and shook his head.

“You wrong.” Winnie crossed to the table, plopped into the empty chair beside Audra, and put a wrinkled hand on her arm. “Mr. Percy not going to get no better. You know that. But right now, he still have his good days. Maybe he able to walk you down the aisle. Maybe he not. But you can't wait on him to start living, child. Was he able to, he tell you that hisself.”