Shades of Honor (6 page)

Her head jerked up and she looked at him with the same confused, frightened expression that had been on her face last night after he’d choked her.

Radford’s gut cinched with regret knowing he’d hurt her. With one finger, he reached out and pushed open her collar. The light bruises on her neck sickened him as much as the distrust he saw in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Evelyn. Sometimes I forget where I am,” he said quietly. “I forget that the war is over and that I can’t fight the battles again–that I can’t save my friends.” Tenderly, he drew his thumb over the marks on her neck as if to soothe them away. “My memories make me angry, and sometimes, violent. Don’t risk yourself trying to rescue me from them. No one can.”

 
 
o0o

Throughout the morning, Evelyn did her best to forget about the incident in Radford’s bedroom, but her mind kept drifting back to it. What had happened to make him so violent? Who was Thorn? Had the war ruined Radford’s mind? Evelyn wiped the grime off her hands, her thoughts racing.

She stretched her back then straightened and whacked her grease rag against the stall, remembering how she’d started blathering like a fool the minute Radford had entered the livery that morning. She’d been so nervous she had nearly knocked the carriage onto its axle. What a halfwit. She’d lost every shred of her common sense the second Radford was within ten feet of her. Her brain had stopped working altogether when he touched her throat. Thank goodness he’d left the livery before she could decide if she was frightened or excited by his touch.

When he’d returned to the livery later that morning with Rebecca, he’d acted as if nothing had transpired between them. For two hours, Evelyn had watched Rebecca sit on her blanket, as she was doing now, observing the horses and fat bumblebees that zipped in and out of the livery. Despite Rebecca’s curiosity, she’d kept her father in sight. When Radford moved, she would pick up her blanket and settle herself where he stopped. She sat on the steps while he scraped the porch floor. She sat on the paddock fence while he measured the rotting shelter. She sat on the dusty floor of the livery while Radford inspected the forge.

Several times Evelyn started to approach Rebecca, to take her by the hand and show her all the things the child seemed so curious about, but she held back, sensing that Radford didn’t want her to interfere with his daughter. But watching Rebecca was heartbreaking. Little girls should be running through the yard, shrieking and giggling and wearing the grass thin. That’s how Evelyn had been before her mother died. That’s how Rebecca should be. Not this unnatural, quiet watchfulness.

Evelyn was actually relieved when Radford took Rebecca and went to his mother’s house for supper. Though Kyle ate with his family, he came to see Evelyn afterward.

“What did Radford do all day?” Kyle asked, taking a chair opposite her on the porch.

“I’m not sure. We didn’t see each other much.”

“Wasn’t he in the livery?” Kyle asked.

“Occasionally.”

“Well, he must have talked to you.”

He did more than talk, Evelyn thought, remembering the feel of Radford’s thumb gliding across her throat. “He measured the shelter.” She shrugged. “I was too busy to notice more than that.”

Kyle leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, his fingers interlaced between them. “Sounds like Radford is going to be making some repairs.”

“Didn’t you talk to him at supper?”

“Not about the livery. He was too interested in what we’re doing at the mill.”

Evelyn detected a note of unease in Kyle’s voice. “Does that bother you?”

Kyle quirked a brow. “Why should it?”

“I thought you might not like Radford being involved in the sawmill after you've done so much to make it successful,” Evelyn hinted, hoping Kyle would give her some insight that would help her find a way to get Radford back to work at the sawmill and out of her livery. Any man from Kyle’s crew would be a safer choice.

“I've worked too hard to turn it over to anyone. Besides, my gut tells me that Radford won’t stay long enough for me to be concerned.”

“Why?”

“Because he hasn’t stayed in one place for more than a couple months since the war. Why do you think he did so well with the railroad?”

Evelyn shrugged. “I thought the railroad made him travel.”

“They did, but—” Kyle shook his head. “Never mind. It’s unimportant.” He gazed off toward the dark orchard, a wounded look in his eyes. “I learned long ago not to worry about Radford. Or depend on him.” With a long sigh Kyle returned his gaze to Evelyn. “What happened to your throat?”

Evelyn’s stomach flipped. Kyle would be enraged if he knew she’d been in Radford’s bedroom. If he knew she’d been in Radford’s bed, seen him unclothed, Kyle would kill his brother— then her.

“I...I stumbled over a bucket and hit my throat.”

“On what?” he asked, studying her neck with concern.

“The wheelbarrow.” Evelyn hated lying, but knew the truth would elicit unnecessary concern at the least, and a war at most.

Kyle shook his head. “It’s a good thing Radford’s helping you now. I won’t have to worry so much about you being alone out there.”

Evelyn covered the bruises with her fingertips, but Kyle reached out and caught her hand. He pulled her onto his lap and looped his arms around her waist. “I think it’s time I taught you about monkeyshines.”

“Monkeyshines?” Evelyn asked in surprise. “You want to teach me about pranks?”

Kyle laughed and shook his head. “No. Monkeyshine is just another word for an exciting kiss. You’re going to be my wife and we’ve never really kissed each other, have we?”

“We haven’t had time,” she said, though the idea of being romanced by Kyle pleased her. “And we have too kissed. Remember New Year’s Eve?”

“That was
not
a kiss,
Ev
. That was a peck. Nothing at all like a monkeyshine. This is a kiss.” He lifted her chin and pressed his mouth to hers.

It was the first time Evelyn had received a passionate kiss. Kyle’s lips were softer than she expected and the stubble on his chin was rough against hers, but not unpleasant. He smelled of fresh-cut wood and soap. To Evelyn’s immense relief, kissing wasn’t unpleasant at all.

Until Kyle licked her lips.

Before she could react, Kyle tightened his embrace and swept his tongue across her lips with slow, bold strokes. Shocked, Evelyn broke the kiss. “What are you doing?”

Kyle loosened his hold. “I was just about to ask you the same. You’re supposed to open your mouth when I kiss you.” He grinned at her shocked expression. “That's how it's done when you're engaged.”

Evelyn ducked her face, ashamed that she knew nothing about kissing. It had been so much easier during the days when Kyle wanted her to climb trees or skip rocks in the creek. Those were things she could do, but it was awful to be such a failure at the simple duties of womanhood. It didn't matter that she grew up without a mother for Evelyn was sure that she lacked within her the necessary substance of femininity. That was something nature provided. Not a thing to be learned.

Kyle squeezed her shoulder. “Was it that bad,
Ev
?”

She glanced up to see a teasing glint in his eyes, but she saw no humor in her lack of knowledge or womanly attributes. She wanted love. How was she supposed to share that special bond with Kyle when she didn’t even know how to kiss?

Kyle’s expression turned sympathetic. “We’re not used to each other yet. That takes time.”

“I don’t know a thing about men or monkeyshines. I don't blame you if you're disappointed.”

“I'm not. I’m just getting to know my future wife.” He tipped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “We’ll be having children together,
Ev
. There’s no need to be shy with me.”

Her discomfort with Kyle wasn’t shyness. She wanted the sort of relationship married people should have and was more than willing to form that physical bond. She just didn’t know how. Seeing the sincerity in Kyle’s eyes eased Evelyn’s worry. She’d always been able to depend on Kyle to make things better. He could teach her how to kiss. He would give her a secure future and the family she desperately wanted. Kyle was devilishly handsome, intelligent, and steadfast, the kind of man any girl would want. Evelyn would learn to love him.

She would.

And she’d learn to kiss him, she thought, lifting her mouth to his waiting lips. Kyle’s attentions were far from repulsive, but it felt decidedly odd kissing her best friend, despite his handsome face and obvious talent.

It made her think of an illicit kiss between cousins.

For a solid week, Evelyn watched Rebecca trail after Radford like a miniature shadow. He had left her at his mother’s house one morning, but Nancy brought Rebecca back within the hour, claiming she couldn’t bear the child’s heartbreak.

Though Rebecca was quiet, Evelyn could see a spark in her eyes when she studied the horses. Many times Evelyn felt the little girl’s curious gaze on her. Whether Evelyn filled the oat bin, fed the horses, or mucked the stalls, Rebecca would be raised up on her knees, watching her with avid interest.

This morning Rebecca sat on her blanket with her shoes off, talking to herself and picking her toes. She seemed so lost, so small and alone, that Evelyn decided she just had to approach her.

“Rebecca,” Evelyn called softly. Rebecca’s head lifted. “Would you like to give the horses their oats today?”

Rebecca stared at the oat scoop in Evelyn’s hand, her expression momentarily confused before her eyes suddenly came to life. She glanced at Evelyn’s Thoroughbred, then gave a shy nod.

“I don’t want her near the horses,” Radford said from the stall beside Evelyn. Rebecca immediately sank back upon the blanket, the excitement ebbing from her eyes.

Evelyn cursed under her breath. “I’ll be right beside her.”

“They’ll frighten her.”

Having watched Rebecca all week, Evelyn didn’t believe that for a moment. Though Rebecca was unnaturally quiet and withdrawn, she was curious about the world around her. The horses fascinated her, and in some small way, so did Evelyn.

“How will she learn about horses if she never gets close enough to touch one?” Evelyn asked, resting her elbows on the half wall between the stalls. Radford had his back to her, allowing Evelyn to observe the way his shirt tightened across his shoulders as he swept the hayfork across the floor to spread fresh straw. His denim trousers were dusty and loose from bending and squatting, but Evelyn knew the fabric covered a hard-molded backside and long, sinewy legs. Moving her gaze up to the dark hair tangled in his collar, Evelyn wondered how it would feel, then chastised herself for the thought.

“Rebecca’s never been on a horse,” Radford said, shaking the last of the straw from his fork.

“Papa claims I sat my first horse as soon as I could sit up on my own.”

“I’ll teach her how to ride when I think she’s ready.”

“All right,” Evelyn said, but she needed to make Radford understand what was happening to his daughter. “I think Rebecca needs a playmate her own age. I know she’s warming up to Papa because he’s so silly, but being surrounded by adults all the time can’t be good for her.”

Radford planted the tines of the fork in the straw and hooked his palm over the handle. “I know you mean well, Evelyn, but Rebecca wouldn’t play with a child her age.”

The certainty in his voice piqued Evelyn’s curiosity. “Why not? I think Tom and Martha Fisk’s little girl would be a wonderful playmate for Rebecca. You’ve never met Helen because she was born while you were away, but she’s a darling.”

“I’m sure she is,” Radford said, “but Rebecca still wouldn’t take to her. She didn’t take to Janie in Boston or Emily in Saratoga Springs. Both girls were her age and Rebecca refused to have anything to do with them. She's just too shy.”

“What were those girls like?” Evelyn asked, sure that there was a reason Rebecca shied away.

“Like little girls.” He raked his hair back. “Hell, I don't know.”

Evelyn took a step back. “I'm sorry. I know Rebecca's your responsibility and I shouldn’t intrude, but I can’t stand to see her sitting on her blanket every day. She needs to play and explore.”

“She will. When she feels comfortable letting me out of her sight, she’ll run off and play as little girls do.”

It would more likely be when Radford was comfortable letting Rebecca out of his sight, but Evelyn withheld comment. It would do her no good to antagonize Radford further for being a protective father. But she could goad him into getting out of her livery so she could keep her eyes on her work for a change. “Rebecca can’t just sit here every day of her childhood, Radford. Why don’t you go play with her? I can handle chores this morning.”

“Rebecca knows I have to work during the day and that we’ll have our time together in the evening. She can go play anytime she chooses.” He opened the stall door and glanced back. “Need anything before I go outside?”

Evelyn shook her head and watched him leave, as Rebecca trailed after him with her ragged blanket tucked beneath her arm, her shoes forgotten by a bale of hay. Evelyn picked them up and took them to the tack room with her, feeling as though she had failed Rebecca. She sat at her desk and placed the tiny shoes before her, studying them with her chin propped on her fists. Why was Radford trying to keep her away from Rebecca? Couldn’t he see that Rebecca was bursting with curiosity? The fact that she sat quietly on her blanket each day didn’t mean she wasn’t utterly miserable.