Reclaimed (31 page)

He chuckled as she moved to the cupboard. She pulled down two mugs and carried them to her coffeemaker. Paul followed her, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. He felt a sigh leave her body as she rested her head against him. His eyes slid shut as he curled her closer.

“Every day for at least a month.” He spoke softly against her hair.

“What?” She tipped her chin up so she could see him.

“I’ve sat in that chair and watched you pour coffee, wanting to do this for at least a month.”

Her eyes left his face, and she stared across the kitchen, still settled against him. “I thought maybe you decided against it.” Her voice drifted. “You seemed to pull away after… after the horse tank.”

Paul loosened his hold and turned her by the shoulders, leaving both hands to rest against her arms. “I couldn’t read you.” He swallowed, waiting for her gaze to meet his. “I gave up on romance awhile ago. But with you—this is what I want. I’m sure, Suzanna. Is it what you want?”

A smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. “Yes.”

Warmth flooded his core as he moved to kiss her. Years of waiting, he knew she was the one. A pickle for sure, but she made life interesting. He loved that.

Suzanna gnawed on her lip as she stared out the windshield. Paul turned onto the highway. They’d be at church in fewer than five minutes.

I’ll pick you up for church in the morning.

That’s what he’d said last night after dinner. She’d grilled chicken and served it with salad. Paul cleaned his plate but turned down seconds. He’d had two slices of her frosted carrot cake, devouring them as though he were still hungry.

I don’t usually go in for classes.
She’d tried a subtle tactic.

I think you should try. We’re going through Genesis right now. It’s really interesting.

What could she have said? No, she didn’t want to? Truth, but it wouldn’t have gone over well. Actually, the real truth was she didn’t want to arrive with Paul because flaming tongues would devour any fuel in their path. And their joint arrival would be like pouring gas on a house fire. But saying that to Paul… well, he’d argue, they’d fight about it, and she’d feel terrible. She really didn’t want to be at odds with him. Ever.

So, she’d shoved away the panic clawing in her throat and nodded her head. Now here they were, almost to church the first Sunday of December. Her heart raced as invisible hands closed around her neck and squeezed.

Paul, what are you doing? Don’t you understand cause and effect?

He glanced her way and lifted a grin, reaching for her hand. His felt warm and rough and large, encasing her with a feeling of protection, but it wasn’t herself she was most worried about.

They turned into the gravel lot, and Paul parked by Tom and Andrea’s Expedition. He released her hand, killed the engine and was at her door just as her feet hit the rocks. Shutting her door with one hand, he reclaimed hers with the other, and then started for the building.

The invisible hands squeezed tighter. She tugged her hand away.

Paul stopped walking. She met his eyes for half a breath and then shifted so she didn’t have to hold the contact. “I know you like me. You don’t have to do this.” Her cheeks burned.

He took her hand again and held it tight. “I’m not hiding this. I’m not ashamed of you, and we’ve done nothing to hang our heads about.”

His thumb traced her knuckles, and then he lifted them to his lips. Suzanna raised her eyes to his face, and the depth in his expression sparked an electric jolt through her system.

He loves me.
Dear God, let it be true.

Joy zipped through her, making her head light. But just as the euphoria lifted, reality settled hard.

He doesn’t know everything.

She dropped back to earth with a thud.

“Kiera asked me if we could go riding today.” Paul flicked the blinker to turn onto the dirt road. “Do you want to come with us?”

Suzanna forced her mind to keep up with Paul. Tough to accomplish. In her head, she was still sitting in church. Joy, pastor Ron’s wife, had just invited them for dinner Tuesday night, which had lured a smile to her lips. They agreed, and Suzanna had breathed in relief. Joy had moved away when whispers settled in Suzanna’s ears, setting them aflame.

“About time, I’d say.” Trish Calloway must have only been three rows behind them. “Hopefully, they’ll set them straight, now that they’ve brought their rebellion out into the open.”

Didn’t that woman have anything else to occupy her thoughts?

“Doubt it’ll help,” Shelby Stanton hissed. “He’s already sold himself to the Devil.”

The spear hit its aim, ripping through her chest with searing pain. The wound had yet to stop throbbing.

“Pickle?” Paul squeezed her shoulder. “Do you want to ride with us?”

“No.” She forced a smile. “No, thanks. That’s special between you and Kiera. You should keep it that way.”

He glanced her way, tender appreciation gleaming in his blue eyes. His hand slid around her, and he pulled her into his shoulder over the center console, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Will you hang out with Kelsey this afternoon?”

“Planned to after I visit with Andrea. Kelsey was going to show me how to draw Mickey Mouse.” That beckoned a real grin. Ah, Kels. Such a darling friend.

Paul chuckled. “Hope Dre lets you. I’m sure she’ll have plenty to visit with you about.”

About today? A lump swelled in her throat. It was old. This whole thing was getting so old. She watched him, his smile still wide. That couldn’t be what he meant.

Again, he looked at her. Must have read her confusion. “I haven’t talked to her all week, but I’m sure she got a story from Tom on Tuesday, and she’ll want details.” He raised an eyebrow as though issuing a warning.

Suzanna let herself smile. “No details?”

His brow hitched higher. “That’s just weird. She’s my sister.”

Good point. Very weird. She giggled. But the lightness vanished as quickly as it’d come. Suzanna returned her view to the endless pastures, harsh words replaying against her sore heart.

“Will she approve?” she whispered, her eyes still pinned on the view outside.

“You have to ask?” Paul slid his hand to her neck and massaged it. “She’s been scheming since… well, since before I started calling you Pickle.”

Since he started calling her Pickle? As far as she could tell, that was from the moment she’d breathed fire on him at their first introduction. Andrea hadn’t known her then. Was he placating her?

Paul’s hand shifted to her back, and he rubbed small circles over her spine. Her silence must have shouted her doubts. “Honestly, Suz, my family adores you. You have nothing to worry about.”

She leaned into his touch, trying to absorb confidence from it. Nothing to worry about?
How will they feel when I finally tell you all of my story?

TWENTY-NINE

The December sun sank toward the western horizon, its orange rays bouncing light off the dusting of snow covering the pasture. Suzanna gave a light tug on the reins, and Sugar came to a halt. She let her eyes drift over the rolling hills, white and clean, and a smile lifted her cheeks. Inhaling, she let her eyelids slide shut, and something lovely and warm glimmered in the deep part of her soul. The part that was normally dark and cold.

Did love do that? She’d loved Jason with all her heart—loved him since they’d been little more than children. But it didn’t feel like this.

It could be because of Paul, who sat astride Bronco a few yards ahead. She’d known she was tumbling into that same place with him for weeks now. Could love for this man feel so different—like this? Like light was calling her, whispering
draw near
.

In this moment, this beautiful foreign feeling spoke to those depths. Not with a language heard by her ears, but one discerned in the caverns of her heart.

Draw near and find life…

Lightness filled her being as though the law of gravity had been shattered. Was this love?
Dear God, if it is, don’t take it away.

Suzanna inhaled again and opened her eyes. Though the idea was unfathomable, she expected to be floating in the purity of a light not known to man.

The sun neared the land beyond, its hues growing more intense as it bid the day farewell. She was still grounded on the earth, sitting in a saddle with her land sprawling before her. Disappointment pulled her chest in but didn’t plunge her to despair. The echo of that voice still whispered in her heart.

Draw near…

“I love that about you, Pickle.” Paul sat, leaning against the saddle horn, watching her. “You don’t miss an opportunity to savor God’s creation. It is a marvel, isn’t it?”

Is that what she’d been doing? That voice—was it the voice of—surely not. God hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. Ever.

God loves you, Suzie doll.
Daddy’s voice had sounded more like a plea that day at the park.

No sir, she’d thought, He doesn’t love me at all.

Suzanna silenced the memory. “It is beautiful.”

Paul’s smile widened as he turned his mount back toward the creek. “Show me the place.”

“What place?”

“You said you had somewhere in mind to plant an orchard. I want to see it.”

Back to that? He was relentless, but it was nice. She turned Sugar south, and they rode until they were nearly halfway between her house and the creek.

“Right here. If I’m allowed to use some water from the creek, it would be easy to irrigate, and the small slope faces north, which would be good so the plants don’t bloom too early.”

Paul dismounted and held a hand out to her. She slid to the ground and accepted his offer. Leaving the horses, they walked into what she envisioned as her orchard.

“I can see it,” he said, his eyes grazing the scene. “Kelsey’s picture come to life right here. Not just cherries, but apples, maybe some peaches, right? It’ll be beautiful, Pickle.”

“How did you know that?”

He leaned down near her hair and inhaled. “You smell like apples. When you picked over at Dre’s last month, you looked like you’d died and gone to heaven. And the peaches—well, for your dad, right?”

Warm laughter tickled in her chest. How well he understood her.

“Tell me what you need.” Paul pivoted to face her, his face bright with excitement. “Whatever it is, we’ll get started. Test the soil, plow the rows. When you’re ready, we’ll plant them. One by one, we’ll set their roots in the ground.”

His enthusiasm rushed over her like a long-awaited rain on the hot, dry prairie. It overwhelmed her, amazed her. “Why would you do all that? Maybe it’s just a silly dream.”

He tugged on the hand he still had wrapped in his own, drawing her close. His lips brushed over her forehead, and then he framed her face with both of his work-roughened hands. “It’s not a silly dream. It’s your beautiful dream, and I’ll work with you to make it happen. Because I want to.”

His thumb traced her mouth, and his eyes narrowed as he leaned in close. His voice dropped soft and quiet. “Because I love you.”

She forgot how to breathe. Electricity tingled over her as she moved to meet his mouth. His gentle kiss lingered, and she leaned into him. Desire plunged them deeper, and she clung to him as he held her tight.

The sun had met the land far off by the time he slowly pulled away. Breathless, he rested his forehead against hers, his hat tipping back. She opened her eyes to find his still closed, though a tender smile crinkled the skin near the corners.

“God, thank you for Suzanna Wilton.” His deep whisper rasped husky. “I’d stopped believing, but You knew all this time.”

Was that true? Did God know? Did He care? A new longing took hold. Who was this God Paul knew so well?

Paul opened his eyes, their blue depths confirming his proclamation of love. A fresh ripple of joy tumbled through her. Maybe that was enough.

He brushed another kiss across her lips before claiming her hand. They returned to the horses and rode along the creek bank as it curved around the house.

“Whoa.” Paul tugged Bronco to a stop and squinted into the trees before he turned to face her. “Have you given anyone permission to hunt?”

“Huh?”

He came off his saddle. “Has anyone stopped and asked to hunt on your property?”

Hunting? We went from
that
kiss to hunting? Must be a country boy thing. “No.”

He moved to a tree, looking up the trunk with curious intent. “Did your dad hunt?”

“Don’t know.” She dropped from her saddle. “Why?”

Paul looked over at her and then back up the tree. “There’s a trail cam up there. A nice one.”

Trail cam? What was that?

“Come here.” He waved her over and then squatted. “Climb on my shoulders. You should be able to reach it.”

“It’s not mine. Are you sure we should bother it?”

He took off his hat. “If it’s not yours, then someone is poaching. It’s illegal to hunt on private property without permission.”

Suzanna sat on his shoulders, and he stood. She reached for the box strapped to the tree trunk and unsnapped it, then handed it down to Paul. In one smooth motion, he knelt back down, and she returned to the ground. “I don’t understand. What does this have to do with hunting?”

Paul looked from the box in his hand to the tree and back again. “Maybe nothing. That was set up too high for deer.”

She rolled her eyes. “Paul,
what is
it?”

“A video camera.” He pushed his hat back over his hair. “Hunters use it to gauge activity in an area. To see if there are any deer.”

A video camera? A
video
camera? Suzanna glanced over her shoulder in the direction the box had faced. Her house sat in plain view.

Chuck.
She felt violated. Every time she’d been home, every moment she’d been outside, she’d been watched. For how long?

Paul stepped closer, his hand on her elbow. “Have you noticed anyone coming by on a regular basis?”

“You, Tom, and Dre, and that white pickup that passes about once a week.”

“The Hansen boys.” He frowned. “They lease Chuck’s land.”

Suzanna looked up to his face. “But I never see them stop here.”

“Did you notice my pickup parked behind the tree line a few Sundays ago?”

“What?” Her voice climbed an octave.

His cheeks darkened. “I waited for you after I knew what Chuck was saying. That’s why we got to church at the same time. Did you see me?”

“What on earth?” She scowled. “Do all country boys go through some kind of spy class in high school?”

“Not necessary. We’ve been hunting since we were six. Keeping out of sight is part of the gig.”

Cute. She has some Peeping Tom keeping tabs on her, and the man who’d just declared love for her was making light of it. She glared at the box in his hand and then stomped away.

“Suzanna”—he came after her—“I’ll deal with this.” Paul pulled her to a stop.

“I’m coming with you.”

He looked down at her, his face dark under the brim of his hat. “Don’t think so, Suz.”

“What?” Fury buzzed in her head. “Why not?”

Paul sighed, his hand clasping her shoulder. “I told you. This is all they know of you in town.”

“What does that mean?”

“Name three people who’ve seen you smile. Tell me who, other than my family, has had the pleasure of a calm, friendly conversation with you?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. This was helpful? Never mind that he was right. There were good reasons for it. Namely, they were
mean
. Whose side was he on, anyway?

He took her by the other shoulder and stepped closer. “Hon, listen.” He rubbed her arms as though that should settle her anger. “I know. I really do. You haven’t been treated fairly. Chuck’s been as nasty as a blind rattler. Even if you’re justified in your anger, if you go and unleash, no one will ever see past it. Your reaction will mark you, for better or for worse.” He lifted a hand and ran his knuckles over her cheek. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Please. Let it be for the better.”

How did he posses the power to disarm her? Better question, why did he bother? He should be wrapping his arms around some sweet woman with a gentle heart. He didn’t deserve her soured spirit.

Tears dropped from her eyes as she hung her head. She was unworthy of this man’s love, and yet he poured it over her, protected her. Not only from the slanderous meanies in town, but from herself, from her lack of good judgment.

He gathered her in his arms, his cold Carhartt coat smelling like the outdoors and hay and horse. Like Paul. She snuggled into his chest and secured her arms around him.

He loved her and made her feel it with every touch, every word.

And yet, she knew no peace.

Paul pulled into town with steam ready to billow from his ears.
Spying? What the heck, Chuck?

He didn’t let Suzanna see the full extent of his anger—she didn’t need any fuel to add to her already massive bonfire—but he was blazin’ mad. He took the trail cam home to check, just in case it had been Mike’s, and he’d jumped to some irrational conclusions. Nope. The disk was new. That skunk had set an eye on her. The creep.

The bank would have just opened. Paul hoped Stanton was in, and that he wasn’t in a meeting. Hope? Naw, that’s the wrong word. Stanton would rearrange his day for this. Paul would see to it.

He marched across the marbled lobby and past the reception area, letting himself in Chuck’s office.

“What, Olivia?” Stanton snapped. “I just got here. What couldn’t wait until I’d at least had a cup of coffee?” He looked up, and his face registered surprise.

Paul glared from his spot at the door.

“Come in, Rustin.” Chuck recovered, sitting straight and meeting Paul’s stare with one of his own. “Do we have something to discuss today?”

That smug face.
Does he know how quick I can take down a 200-pound calf?