Love Lasts Forever (6 page)

Willow handled her humor less prettily. Giggles shook her hourglass frame until tears fell from her eyes. While wiping her eyes and pausing to breathe, she slowly made her way from the cabin to the pigpen.

Her attempt to hold her laughter in check and regard Thor with a solemn face lasted all of two seconds. Upon her arrival, Thor tried to stand only to trip over one of the excited pigs. He landed on his backside again.

“Be careful!” Her warning held the distinct tinkle of laughter.

“Was that for the pigs or for me?” he asked with a deep chuckle.

He rolled onto all fours and crawled to her. The fence supported his effort to stand. Air lodged in his chest. The sparkle of amusement in her black eyes and the flash of dimples did the impossible. She appeared even more beautiful than the first time he saw her. His mouth parted, but words failed to come.

In response to his unwavering gaze, her laughter faltered and then abruptly died. As rapid as an electrical storm, awareness charged the air between them. The tip of her pink tongue darted, moistening her full, sensual lips.

Her voice was hoarse and void of humor when she spoke to him. “Both.”

“Excuse me?”

His senses blasted into overload. Her womanly scent, sweet like honeysuckles, filled his nostrils. His mouth watered. An ache to taste her burned inside his gut. The thrill of anticipation made him forget his earlier question.

Her olive black eyes shone with an invitation that Thor couldn’t refuse. He pulled himself over the fence. His intentions must have been obvious as she stepped back and shook her head in disapproval.

“You mustn’t.” Desire and regret filled her tremulous whisper. Her mouth parted to say more, but the sound of pounding hooves, jangling harnesses, and a boisterous voice drowned them out.

The interruption brought a disappointing end to the special moment. Thor watched in silence as Willow moved away to pat the pair of horses and greet the driver of the wagon with a smile. A surge of jealousy soared through him as her lips curved in genuine affection. Through narrowed eyes, Thor glared at the visitor as he climbed down from the wagon.

The man was about twenty years older than Thor. Chestnut brown hair with flashes of silver peaked from underneath his wide-brimmed hat and fell to the top collar of his coat. Lines etched from the corner of his eyes and Thor couldn’t be sure if they were from humor or worry. Although the sun browned his face, the man was white, and he returned Willow’s greeting with a smile.

“I believe you left something this morning.” The stranger pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and handed them to her. “I’m surprised you were able to find your way without them.”

“Thank you, Reverend.” She hesitated and glanced at Thor before sliding the glasses on. “I hadn’t realized I’d left them until I had come too far to go back. You didn’t have to bring them. I’ll be home tonight.”

He shook his head. “Not tonight. I saw Anders in town just a while ago. He’ll be staying over. Yates told him he’d get his full pay if he finishes adding on the extra room before the week is over. Anders asked me if you could tend to Miss Eva until he comes home. I told him I was sure you could, but of course, the choice is yours.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want Miss Eva to be here alone.”

“I thought you’d say that.” The man grabbed a parcel from the rear of the wagon and gave it to her. “Olivia packed some of your things just in case your stay is longer than one night. She included your lessons, and she was most particular about those sonnets. I’d get to studying if I were you.” He turned his attention to Thor, looking at him as if he just noticed the younger man. “Now who might you be? You have the look of Magnusen. I reckon you must be kin.”

“Reverend Brown, this is Mr. Thor Magnusen,” Willow introduced in a rush.

Brown’s eyebrow twitched, and he nodded his head once. “Thank you, Miss Elkridge. I ’spect he can tell me the rest. You’d best let Miss Eva know that her Anders won’t be with her tonight. Tell her I’ll bring the supplies in directly.”

“Yes, sir.” Her wide skirt whistled as she turned away and left the men alone.

Thor’s gaze followed her until she was inside the cabin and then he looked at the Reverend. Judging from Willow’s behavior, the man was decent enough, but that didn’t quiet his annoyance at their casual relationship. What was the man to her? Why did they share the same home?

Thor edged closer to the man and his wagon. With his arms folded across his chest, he strained to maintain an even disposition while jealousy gushed inside his veins.

“Reverend Mitchell Brown.” The older man extended his hand with the introduction. “I suppose I’m pleased to meet you, Thor Magnusen, but by the looks of you, I haven’t decided, yet. Anders didn’t mention to me that he was expecting his kinfolk to visit.”

“It was a spur of the moment decision,” Thor answered him after shaking the man’s hand.

“Oh, I see. Well, come on,” he invited with the wave of his hand, “help me unload the wagon. We can get acquainted while performing a good deed for our fellow man.”

Thor sauntered to the rear of the wagon. He had no problems with helping around his ancestors’ home. He would do whatever he could for however long he was there. Until he found that damn watch…

A cool chill swept through him at that thought. How long would he be there? Back in time with his family was strange enough, but what if he never found the timepiece? Hell, what if nothing happened when he found it?

“Something wrong?” Brown rested his large hand firmly on Thor’s shoulder. “You’re looking peaked around the edges.”

Thor pushed his questions aside for later. He offered the older man a thin-lipped smile and shrugged. “Nothing wrong, sir.”

“Good. Let’s get to work then.”

Lumber filled the wagon bed and a medium-sized crate squeezed against the side. The crate held supplies for the home. At a glance, Thor read the labels for wheat flour, sugar, cornmeal, and coffee. Other items rattled and sighed as he lifted the crate from the wagon’s floor and headed for the cabin. Before he could take more than a few steps, the Reverend swiftly relieved him of the wooden box.

“I’ll take this inside. You can get started on the planks.”

The older man crossed the yard and moved toward the cabin. Irritation bristled inside of Thor at the man’s manner. Of course, the good Reverend wanted Thor to start with the heavy work while he rested inside with the ladies and ate a plateful of Willow’s fine cooking.

“Figures,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

Thor rolled up his sleeves and went to work. Removing lumber from a wagon proved to be easier than cleaning out a pigpen and not as smelly. The repetitious movement even calmed his racing thoughts. Perspiration dampened his brow. The strenuous activity gave him the peace of mind to think things through rationally. As he piled the wood in front of the pigpen, he thought back to his nap and the events that occurred right before and right after it.

He remembered staying awake all night to think about his life. Football was out and something had to replace it. The something hadn’t been revealed to him, but when morning came, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. No, his life wasn’t completely over and would get back on track again.

After declining Cal’s invitation to go fishing, he took a short walk to the creek and the next thing he recalled was the sound of Willow’s voice, floating to him and waking him from his nap.

They walked to the cabin. Did he have the watch then? He must have left it near the creek, but he searched that area, including the trail from the creek to the cabin. Nothing! Where was the watch? Had it vanished?

“Dammit!” The curse fell from his lips just as he tossed a plank onto the ground.

“What did that piece of wood do to cause you to curse it?”

Reverend Brown’s voice came just behind him. He turned to find the man looking at him with a thoughtful expression on his face. Intelligent dark green eyes narrowed, as a thin layer of tension coated the air with the sentiment of suspicion rising up strongly between the two men.

Thor rubbed a hand over his injured shoulder. “Nothing much at all, Reverend.”

“See to it that you’re careful,” Brown advised. “Anders paid a good deal of money for that wood. He wouldn’t appreciate his kin treating it with such disregard.”

“I’m unloading this carefully enough, considering I’ve done over half of it alone.”

Brown laughed at that. “Well, if you’re all tuckered out, sit down a spell. I can handle the rest.”

“I’ve got it,” Thor growled.

The two men formed a system as they worked side by side. Reverend Brown handed a plank to Thor, and Thor set it on the ground. Their sweat soaked shirts clung to their backs. After minutes of working in silence, Brown suggested a brief break. Both men quickly discarded the wet garments, hanging them on fence poles before going back to work.

“You passing through or planning to stay a spell?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Thor glanced at the older man as he grabbed more lumber. He suspected that Brown didn’t trust him and figured that the man had just begun his interrogation. “Why?”

“I’m not one to beat around the bush, Mr. Thor Magnusen. I saw how you were looking at Willow, and I won’t allow it.”

Thor refused the last piece of wood and drew in a ragged breath. He snarled in contempt, “You planning to keep her all to yourself. Is that it?”

Sudden anger blazed in Brown’s eyes. “I am a man of God, Mr. Magnusen, and Willow is like a daughter to me. My wife and I took her in when she was just barely eight years old. I’ve raised her like she’s my own, and I’ll be damned if you mistreat her!”

“I wouldn’t!” Thor growled back and then in a softer voice, added, “I respect Willow, and I genuinely like her.”

Surprise doused the flames of anger in the reverend’s eyes. He stared at Thor with open curiosity. “I think you may mean that.”

“I do,” he quickly responded. “I—I… well, I’m not from around here, and I view things differently than most. I do not intend to hurt her in any way, and I do honestly respect her. I think she’s a kind, gentle woman.”

“She is also a determined young woman with a loving heart. Remember that and you won’t have any trouble from me.”

“That’d be hard to forget.” Thor took the last piece of lumber from the Reverend and set it on top of the rest. “There’s a lot of wood here. What is Anders planning on doing with it?”

“He’s adding another room to the cabin.” Reverend Brown grabbed their shirts from the poles. He tossed Thor’s to him and then pulled on his own. “Come ’round this way. I’ll show you.”

They walked to the west side of the cabin. Reverend Brown gestured with his hands while he spoke. “He’s building a bedroom or two over here. With the baby coming, he’s thinking about planting his roots for a firm foundation.”

The rooms would be right where Thor remembered them. Awe filled him at seeing the cabin in such a young state. He never realized just how much he took for granted. He frowned.

“What’s wrong? You think you could do it better?”

“No, I was thinking about something else. Anders has some fine ideas for this place. I’d be honored to help him in any way I can.”

“If I know him, he’ll take you up on it.” Brown reached inside the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a corncob pipe. “Want a smoke?”

Thor declined with a quick shake of his head.

“I shouldn’t, but I like the smell.” Brown stuffed the pipe with tobacco and raised it to his lips. He scratched a match against the side of the cabin to light his pipe. After inhaling deeply, he smiled. “Where are you from? You don’t sound like a Yankee, but you think like one in some respects.”

Thor thought it best not to lie, but to fudge a little around the edges. “I’m from Georgia; down by Atlanta.”

“Anders never mentioned having family down that way, and I’ve known him since he and Eva came into these mountains about two years ago now. I think he might have mentioned some family, don’t you?”

Thor lifted his shoulders in an offhand manner. “Maybe, maybe not…our family is further apart than most.”

“You don’t say.”

Thor shrugged again and looked at the woods around them. The talk of family made him lonesome. Somewhere in time, his father and his brother were fishing. Would he return before they missed him? Would he ever find his way home? They irritated the hell out of him, but they were family. He loved them. Sadness filled him at the possibility of never seeing them again. He tried to swallow his despair and directed his gaze at Reverend Brown.

“Yeah, it happens. Distance can separate a family in more ways than one.”

“I reckon it can,” the Reverend murmured. He took a whiff of his pipe. “Considering your views on things, I can see how your family would have parted ways. Are you active in the movement?”

Thor hesitated, regarding the older man closely. There was no malice in Brown’s disposition, but the hint of suspicion had returned in full force. He tried to read between the lines but wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job. Thor recalled only a handful of movements in the late nineteenth century. Pro- and anti-secession were a couple, while pro and anti-slavery were two more. He decided his best bet would be to ask for clarification. “Which one?”