Lori Connelly (12 page)

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 liquor 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?”

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.

“Are we camping here?”

“I thought we’d get some rest then push on in the morning.”

Evie yawned again. “Sound’s good.”

“When we reach a town, I want you looked at by a doctor.”

“I’m okay.”

“You could’ve died,” His voice flat almost emotionless.

“But I didn’t.” Evie held his gaze, steady, serious. “And I don’t need a doctor, I just need sleep.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, “Close your eyes, rest.”

His abrupt, authoritative tone struck a nerve. Her lips parted, irritation poised for expression then he stepped near the fire. The deep lines of strain on his face killed her ill temper. She took a breath and waited, in silence, as he tended the flames, held his hands out to the warmth.

“Uh, Ben?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Would you mind handing me some clothes?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he picked up the bag, handed it to her.

“Thanks,” Evie patted his hand. “Now find something to do and let me get dressed before I fall asleep.”

Her soft but firm command earned a wry smile and an attempt at good humor. “Okay, but I like you fine as you are.”

“I appreciate that but,” Evie waved a hand out in a broad gesture to indicated their surroundings. “I’d hate to wake up naked as a jaybird if strangers rode by our camp.”

“I see your point,” Animation again left his voice as Ben turned his back to her, moved closer to the fire.

Flames crackled, heat drifted on the air as Evie withdrew what she needed from the bag. Though awkward, she managed to slip into dry clothes within the warm cocoon of blankets. The effort depleted the remnants of her energy.

“All done,” she rasped out, her stubborn pride clear. Wind tossed hair around her face. She watched, amazed, as he walked off. “What are you doing?”

“Getting the rifle.”

“You want to hunt?” her voice rose to make sure he heard.

“I want it at hand.”

The crisp concern evident in his reply reminded Evie of the miles of unfamiliar countryside around them. Her gaze swept their surroundings, “Okay.”

Ben set the weapon down at her feet less than a minute later. He took the time to feed the fire then picked up their wet clothes. As he draped them over various branches, she bowed her head to conceal another yawn and started to get up.

“Stay where you are.”

“I can help.”

“No, stay there.”

Her eyes narrowed at the curt command. “Excuse me?”

“Humor me,” Ben’s voice softened, “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You need rest.”

Grumpy now she scooted back down, turned on her side and drew the covers up over her shoulders. She allowed her heavy eyelids to close. Her body relaxed and in seconds surrendered to sleep.

Dusk loomed by the time she woke. Evie sat up, blinked, groggy. “Ben?”

“Right here, how are you?”

“I need to get up.”

“Okay,” her husband drew out the word, his tone wary.

Limbs stiff and sore protested motion as she emerged from the blankets. Without sparing him a glance, Evie ignored the shadows that inched over every surface and stumbled away. Not fully awake, she staggered like a drunk toward a thick brush.

“Are you all right?”

Cold, tired, her voice terse, “I’ve had better days.”

“I understand.” His whisper floated through the early evening. She heard his exhaustion clear as day.

His pallor worried her.

“Are you hurting?”

“I’m fine,” His tone rough, weary though Ben shifted his weight from one foot to the other, restless. “You thirsty?”

“Yeah but … ”

Before she could object, he trudged to the river, filled a couple of canteens and returned. When Ben returned, he poured Evie a cup of cool liquid. She took what he offered with a smile then watched amazed as he gulped down a large amount of water.

“Coffee?”

“That’d be wonderful but-”

“You want something to eat with it?”

“Maybe later,” Evie put her empty cup down. “I’m not really hungry and I think you should-”

“You need to eat.”

An unexpected stream of moonlight chased the darkness away. Frustrated with her husband, Evie looked up as she made a silent prayer for patience. The clouds had cleared. Faint glimmers of distant stars were visible.
No more rain. Thank God.

“Did you hear what I said?” Irritation colored his tone.

“Sorry,” she stepped up next to Ben, touched his arm in a gesture of apology. Evie noticed he’d lit a lantern and spread out some fixings on the tailgate beside it. “How about I fix something for us while you pour coffee?” Without waiting for his answer, she went over and put meat, butter and bread together then rejoined him, sat down on the edge of the bed. Her voice sweet persuasion, “Please eat for me.”

Once he accepted the food, her attention shifted to her own sandwich. Hunger suddenly became a need, urgent and sank her teeth into stale bread with enthusiasm. Gusts of cold wind blew through the trees, set off a round of shivers. She longed for her cloak to be dry but a quick glance revealed it hung heavy on a nearby branch, dripping. Ben reached behind her, brought a blanket up to her shoulders and tucked it around her.

She snuggled in the welcome warmth, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He handed her a cup of steaming coffee.

Her first sip birthed a murmur of delight. The hot, bitter brew trailed delightful warmth down to her stomach. Some honey would’ve improved it but it wasn’t worth the effort to get back up and find the sweetener. They sat in companionable silence during the meal.

As soon as Ben finished, he got to his feet, fetched a length of rope and tied it between the two trees closest to the fire opposite them. Evie swallowed a sigh, brushed breadcrumbs off her skirt and joined him. Together they transferred all the wet clothing onto it to speed up the drying process.

“I’m going to water Sugar.”

“Ben,” Evie shook her head. “Come sit with me. Rest for a minute, she’s fine.”

“If I sit for long I won’t get back up before morning.”

Her husband looked as if the weight of the world rested on him.
Stubborn as ever.
She didn’t say another word, knew arguing would be futile. While he was busy with the mare, Evie emptied the canteen into the pot and added a couple spoonfuls of coffee. The tantalizing aroma of strong brew soon filled the air.

Long moments later, with Sugar settled for the night, Ben returned to where she once more sat. He wrapped his coat sleeve around the pot’s handle then carried it over to Evie and studied her in the flickering firelight. “More coffee?”

“Definitely.”

Ben filled their cups, set the pot safely to one side then sat next to her. “Cold.”

“A little.”

Ben shrugged out of his coat and draped it around her.

His body heat radiated from the garment and warmed her on many levels. “Thank you.”

“I should’ve given it to you before. I don’t know where my head is.”

“You’re fine.”

Ben shook his head then drank some coffee. After a few swallows, he set his cup down. He tugged his boots back off and put them close to the fire next to where she just noticed he’d put hers. Out of the bag, he drew out thick wool socks and pulled them on with a groan of satisfaction. He glanced down and before she could pull them out of sight, noticed her bare feet. With another shake of his head, he put another pair over her bare skin.

The simple, thoughtful gesture warmed her heart even as her toes felt like ice.

“How are you doing?” He shifted the blankets so they covered her legs as well.

“I’m fine.”

“How’s your head?” Ben waited to ask until she came back.

“Tolerable.”

Side by side, they ate in silence. Evie washed down her last bite with the last of her coffee. After that, Ben refilled her cup repeatedly. They drained the pot over the next several minutes, more out of desire for the heat the hot liquid delivered than real thirst. She laid back, eyes closed, barely noticed when Ben stretched out beside her. For a few seconds, she relaxed then, inevitably, concern started to nag at her and, restless, she had to get up.

Back at the fire, Evie fed dying flames while cold leached up from the dense soil. Shivers rocked her even though she held Ben’s coat tight around her. She shifted from one sock covered foot to another and hovered near the tiny blaze.

“We should move our bed under the wagon in case it starts to rain again.” Ben’s weary voice floated out of the shadows.

Tired to the bone the task seemed enormous, “Must we?”

“It’d be best. I don’t think either of us needs soaked again tonight.”

When Ben stepped into the edges of the fire light, Evie noticed that he looked as tired as she felt. She grimaced but didn’t object further. Together they grabbed the thin pallet, blankets and all and moved it. He immediately crawled into bed.

“Come here, lay down with me.”

“In a minute,” Evie returned to the fire.

Ben pressed her. “I’m still half frozen and I’d wager you feel the same. Together we’ll stay warm as the fire dies down.”

“Yes but …  ” Words escaped her, Evie shook her head, she was being silly. “I’ll be right there.” She banked the fire.

“Good,” His tone weary, his brief smile wan, “Hurry.”

“I will,” She grabbed her bag, the rifle and strode back to the wagon quickly, the dark made her heart race.

The night seemed alive with murmurs of life as she stood by the tailgate to repack the supply box without care. Evie told herself she was fine repeatedly under her breath. At last, she shoved the box into the bed, closed the tailgate and put out the lantern. As she knelt down, Ben shifted over, made room for her to scoot in beside him.

“Do you have the rifle?”

Inches separated them, darkness an intimate cocoon. Evie felt Ben’s proximity. She took off the coat, spread it out on top of the blankets then pulled the weapon beneath the covers, against her side.

“Yes.”

“Good,” His voice husky, he reached with one arm and drew her close against him. “So where were we? You like skinny dipping?”

“Yes,” Her head pillowed on his shoulder, she smiled.

His lips grazed her forehead. “I really wish I could remember that.”

His arm tightened around her a second. “Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams,” she echoed.

Soon his even breathing told Evie he slept but she still couldn’t settle down. She breathed deep and steady. When that failed, she counted sheep. Over a hundred wooly creatures jumped through her imagination to no avail. She rolled onto her back, stared up at the wooden boards above her, frustrated.

All of a sudden, Ben started to breathe more deeply. The constant familiar rumble comforted her. The anxiety melted away.
Some things never change.
Her muscles relaxed and within moments, sleep claimed her.

“Evie,” His urgent whisper jerked her awake shortly after.

Irritated, she glared at Ben and snapped. “What?”

“Shh, quiet, I heard something.”

“What?” She asked again but this time whispered.

Clouds drifted above, covered the moon. She gripped his arm, hard. Her gaze darted around, tried to pierce the shadows.

“I think who might be a better question.”

Distinctive clomps drifted through the gloom. Horses were approaching. She eased up into a sitting position, the rifle in her grip.

“Go,” In a voice taunt with tension, he ordered, “hide.”

Evie scrambled to her feet, grabbed the coat. “But I-”

“Don’t argue, just go.”

“But what if-”

“Now Evie,” Ben flicked a glance at her, his expression fierce as he eased the pistol out of her bag.

Sick with fear and worry, she stumbled away, trusted that her husband wouldn’t have sent her out in the dark without good cause. Sticks snapped under hooves. She moved faster. Ben’s sense of danger had saved them more than once. Even after her vision adjusted to the pitch black, she tripped and almost fell a number of times. Her choices limited Evie crouched in a dense cluster of trees opposite the wagon and waited.

Seconds crawled by like hours.
Only desperate people ride in the dead of night, desperate for help or … 

The rank odor of stale sweat saturated the air. Two men rode past her, within yards, straight toward the glowing coals of the fire.
Dear God.
Her body tense as a bow, she held her breath.

Evie shrank further back into the shroud of shadows, prayed they concealed her. She buttoned on Ben’s jacket. One shaking hand at a time, she wiped damp palms on her skirt then took careful aim. Her finger rested against the trigger, ready to squeeze if necessary.

“It’s a little late for visiting, gentlemen.” Ben’s deep voice rang through the night.