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The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge
Lori Connelly


“If you want an emotional romantic adventure to nineteenth century frontier America this is for you.” Jane Hunt ReviewsFor fans of Diana Palmer and Linda Lael Miller comes the first in a brand new and emotionally gripping trilogy, The Men of Fir Mountain.The day Evie met Benjamin Rolfe, a man with an unbridled enthusiasm for life and grandiose plans to match, she knew they’d marry and live happily ever after…Five years later, her charming rancher is now a bitter, cynical stranger with a shaky moral compass. And after too many shattered dreams, Evie no longer believes in fairy tale endings.When they lose the homestead and head out on the open road to start a new life in Oregon, their marriage is already strained to breaking point. Can their love survive this second chance?













The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge


Book One in The Men of Fir Mountain

Lori Connelly










A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk




Contents


Copyright (#u5a21a0d9-d56a-5618-9254-483896a5eb95)

Dedication (#ud128cf53-0c63-5aa4-976a-889ad7d9d5ee)

Prologue (#ue3cb990b-1566-507f-bdd6-fa84909ee8c4)

Chapter One (#ua4274cd7-bf90-523e-a05e-1cfb50d0c319)

Chapter Two (#ua291259a-23db-520b-9e56-79d21c3fbb09)

Chapter Three (#ufbcaa508-a0bb-543c-8d19-13e9745af005)

Chapter Four (#u1c561a1f-4b93-5026-bf9e-e8a848dbbc29)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Lori Connelly (#litres_trial_promo)

About HarperImpulse (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


HarperImpulse an imprint of

HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

77–85 Fulham Palace Road

Hammersmith, London W6 8JB



www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2013

Copyright В© Lori Connelly 2013

Cover Photographs В© shutterstock.com



Lori Connelly asserts the moral right to

be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is

available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.



Ebook Edition В© August 2013 ISBN: 9780007544486

Version 2014-10-03



Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.


In loving memory of my Grandma, Martha Evie, and for all those who believed; my Bear, my kids Jason, John, Michael, Sara, my granddaughter, Lily, my mom Judy, my aunts Kaye and Karen and my sister Teri.




Prologue (#u40d33630-51d2-5f8d-a895-c06870271aa3)


The saloon doors slammed open. “That yellow-bellied, four-flusher,” a tall man complained loudly as he staggered out of the Bucking Pony, “needs to be taught a lesson.”

The breeze carried the sound of stomping feet and more raised voices through the night. Benjamin Rolfe, only a few yards away, took a prudent side step off the boarded sidewalk. From where he hid, in-between two dark, empty buildings, Ben could only make out snippets.

“Low down dirty cheater.”

“I warned the boss not to buy that horse from Rolfe.”

Curious, Ben peeked around the corner. Talbert’s men. He counted the figures of at least six men standing by the horses tied in front of the saloon.

“If the sheriff won’t do his job, then someone needs to do it for him.”

Ben moved back into the deeper shadows. He didn’t care what some drunken ranch hands thought of him and wasn’t about to risk his hide defending an already ruined reputation. With his back against a rough wood wall, he let their tirade drift past him, waiting for them to leave.

Minutes passed with aggravating slowness. His mouth dry, thirst nagged by the time the men finally mounted up and rode out of town. Ben lingered out of plain sight a short time to be certain they were gone then continued on his way to the saloon.

Inside the batwing doors, the place was almost full. Ignoring the brief lull in conversation as he walked in, Ben crossed the room to stand at the bar and dropped his saddlebag to the floor. The bartender stared at him for a couple of seconds before slapping down a glass and filling it with cheap whiskey.

His hand curled around the glass but instead of taking the long drink he’d been craving for hours, the cowboy stared down at the golden brown liquid. He should be happy, celebrating. His share of the take would at least half fill the jar he’d emptied at home. Evie wouldn’t even have to know he’d broken another promise.

Ben tilted the glass slightly from one side to the other, watching the alcohol flow. He should go home. It was late and he needed to talk to his wife. The image of blue eyes filled with disappointment flashed through his mind. A muscle worked along his jaw and he tossed back the drink.

The whiskey burned his throat and he put the glass down with a hard thud. Familiar with his routine, the bartender moved over, poured him a refill and left the bottle. His fingers tightened around the glass but before he lifted it to his mouth again, the noisy room quieted.

Braced for a fight, Ben released his grip and turned to face the door, expecting to see that the group of Talbert’s ranch hands had returned. The sight of only two men standing by the door caught him off guard. Damn. He would’ve preferred a fight.

The Nash brothers strode across the room, cocky, confident, as if they owned the place. His decision to hook up with these lowlifes for this last job was one he’d regretted from the moment he made it. They had no good reason to follow him back to Cedar Ridge.

“Rolfe, what a surprise.” Billy’s smile was more like a coyote barring his teeth than anything human.

“Yes, it is.” He offered them an equally insincere smile of his own. “Have you lost Byron?”

“He’s getting patched up.”

“So what brings you out this way?”

“Seth and I were bored.” Billy’s over pleasant tone set his teeth on edge. “I thought we could find a game here.”

A two-hour ride at night for a game? “Is that so?”

“If not, we’ll start our own.”

Billy chuckled and shouted to the bartender for a couple of bottles as he and Seth sat down at the empty table. Ben reached back, grabbed his glass and lifted it in a mocking toast. He drank then slowly turned his back to the outlaws, a deliberate act to show them he wasn’t afraid. With a hand steady through sheer force of will, he refilled his glass.

The fact that Billy hadn’t bothered to offer a believable explanation didn’t bode well. They were here either to rob him or kill him, possibly both. His options were few. Most of the townspeople wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire and the one man who’d likely help was the one man he couldn’t ask.

Please protect me from the other lowlifes, Sheriff. Yeah that would go over well.

Ben finished off his drink and poured another. He nursed this measure of whiskey and listened to the brothers persuade a few men to play poker with them while he waited for the chance to slip away. A band of pressure coiled around his chest when they started to brag about the robbery. With them running off at the mouth, the sheriff would soon have more than suspicion about his �jobs’. And that meant leaving town sooner rather than later.

Ben cursed under his breath. He’d thought he’d have time to break the news about the move gently, to make Evie see that this would be the best option for them. Now he wouldn’t have that luxury. From the slurred speech of his fellow bandits, he knew that escaping the Nash brothers tonight would still be possible. But, with these scumbags in town, it wouldn’t be long before their loose lips would have the law on him or, and his gut clenched at the thought, they’d find out where he lived.

He’d endangered his wife.

More whiskey poured into the glass. Yesterday he’d cut her off when she tried to encourage him to tell her what was wrong. If she knew the truth about his family, about him, Evie wouldn’t have wasted her breath. Ben downed a few drinks in a row then paused, noticing the bottle was now half empty. Shame bled through him even as he filled his glass again.

Ben shifted so he could watch the Nash brothers out of the corner of his eye. He’d never meant for it to go this far. It was just going to be the one time, one job so they could have a home again. After that, for a time, he’d worked damn hard to stay on the straight and narrow and play by the rules. All that earned him was a kick in the teeth for his effort.

The whiskey no longer burned going down. It barely numbed the pain. He’d been a fool to think he could be a better man than his father had been.

Ben squared his shoulders and straightened away from the bar. He needed to go home. He had to explain. His fingers tightened on the glass again. He didn’t know where to start, what to say. He’d lied to Evie about so much, for so long.

Instead of walking away, Ben loosened the glass, grabbed the bottle and turned around. Both Nash brothers were red in the face drunk. He picked up his bag and moseyed over to stand by them. Neither man looked up from his cards. He could slip away without a fight now, that would be the smart thing to do, but the pile of coins on the table captured his attention.

It was enough money to build the home he’d always promised Evie. Ben took a swig from the bottle then pulled up a chair, joining the game. Maybe this time…




Chapter One (#u40d33630-51d2-5f8d-a895-c06870271aa3)


Cedar Ridge, Idaho – Spring 1891

Her eyes popped open. In the darkness that enveloped her, Evie Rolfe swallowed hard. Sometime during the night, her lamp had died and left the young woman alone. Her fingers tightened into a white knuckled grip around the rifle while she listened for anything unusual. She didn’t dare move, waiting untold minutes, locked in fear until light trickled through the cabin’s only window.

While the ebony grayed and the shadows faded, she gained a measure of courage. Evie scanned the modest room in search of what had woken her. A simple chair sat beside her in front of the stone fireplace. Cast iron pots and a frying pan were stacked on the hearth by short rounds of pine. Along the walls was a long low bench with towels folded neatly on top, a four-drawer dresser, a metal pail then a bed in the corner. Nothing appeared out of place so far.

Nervous, Evie twisted so she could look at the wall behind her. A gap in the window curtains allowed a glimpse of the crimson sky. The crudely made wood table remained snug against the door with the oil lamp in the center. To the right of that, her cloak and a large tan wicker basket hung side by side. A rough broom she’d fashioned stood propped in the corner. Relief seeped through her, and the breath that she’d held released.

Evie sagged against the chair her grandfather had made. Her left hand lifted, rubbed over her face, then lowered to slide palm down over a scarred, oak arm. Loneliness, a muted ache, haunted. The worn rocking chair was all she had left from her family. She sighed softly, almost without sound.

A distinct thud carried through the log walls. Her short-lived calm vanished. Blood raced through her veins. Heart in her throat, Evie gathered the edges of the quilts close around her. Slow, cautious, rifle cradled to her stomach, she pushed up to her feet then turned to face the window.

A minute passed. Then another. Evie heard nothing, saw nothing. She drew in a breath and stepped close to the glass pane. With the rifle muzzle, she pushed the washed out material aside. Her gaze found the source of the sound, what had likely woken her, right away. Fear evaporated.

Drained, her grip loosened. The blankets slipped, sagging around her waist. Anger whispered. Evie turned around and, jaw clenched, stalked to the fireplace. She hung the weapon back on the hooks above the mantle where it belonged. The hard packed dirt floor chilled her bare feet, hastening her pace as she moved to the corner.

Beside the empty bed, Evie stilled, stared at it for a few seconds, her lips compressed into a hard thin line. With a snap of her wrists, she spread the thin patchwork quilts over the mattress. Sadness, resentment and frustration crashed over her in waves as she pulled her nightgown over her head, tossing it on the covers. Goose bumps soon dotted her skin. In quick, jerky movements, she donned stockings, undergarments, a faded blue long sleeved shirt and a brown ankle length skirt.

Another thud sounded. Evie ground her teeth. She sat down on the bed and pulled on well-worn black boots. Her hair fell across her face in the process. Exasperated, she plucked her hairbrush off the wall where it hung by a leather thong.

With the ease of long practice, she swiftly tamed her waist length dark brown hair into a single thick braid that hung down her back. Evie stood and slapped the brush back in place. Her hands shook as she stomped over, and shoved the table away from the door.

Orange and pink stained the clouds on the horizon when she stepped outside. Tall pine trees populated the landscape to her right, a sea of green as far as the eye could see. On her left lay the road to town and a couple of small cleared fields. Daisy, her cow, called out, impatient. Four hens scratched the grass for bugs. Evie noted it all, but focused on what brought her out at dawn.

A mare, all black except for a short white stocking on each leg stood just outside the barn. Its open door swung in the gentle wind. It hit against the wall, and again created the sound she’d heard while inside. Evie hissed through clenched teeth, irritated, moving with swift steady strides to the horse.

Her temper simmered as she led Sugar into the fenced area attached to one side of the barn. Evie stripped off the mare’s tack, and propped the saddle against a fence post. With bridle in hand, a pat and promise of oats later, she headed to the barn.

Evie stepped into the shadowed interior of the weathered structure. While her eyes adjusted to the low light, she took a couple of hesitant steps forward, one hand on the interior wall for assurance. She hung the bridle where it belonged then moved on.

It didn’t take long before she found him near Sugar’s stall, sprawled face down on some loose hay.

For a second, intense emotion seized her. Evie shook with the force it. Although the desire to turn around and leave held strong appeal, she just couldn’t do that. She knelt down beside him, leaned in and whispered his name. He didn’t react. With both hands, she shook him, calling his name with force. As she half expected, Ben still didn’t respond.

Evie got to her feet and with some effort, rolled him onto his back. Shaggy brown hair fell across his face. She crouched down, reached out and swept the mass to one side. His familiar features stirred up a storm of conflicting emotions.

Tears burned her tired eyes. It’d been some time since they’d been affectionate, intimate and, unable to resist, her fingers ran down the side of his neck, a light caress. Scratches and purple bruises marred his skin. Her hand came back up to rest her palm on his cheek. As upset as she was, Evie savored this simple physical contact.

Caught up in the moment, his groan startled her. She gasped. A hand came up, covering hers. His eyes opened and sorrow pierced her. The amazing forest green eyes that had captured her fancy years ago were so bloodshot that it was painful to witness. A crooked smile spread across his face.

“Hey doll.” His voice was low and rough, yet almost playful.

Strong whiskey fumes slapped Evie, sparking her temper. She reared back as if physically struck. His hand dropped to his side when she pulled away. Words she’d mulled over for months were on the tip of her tongue, about to explode from her when she noticed he’d passed out again. An incoherent sound of pure frustration passed her lips.

Fuming, Evie started to rise, and then noticed a small bag at his side. She leaned over, picked it up and the weight made her stomach churn with nausea. Her hand opened, dropping it on the ground, its contents spilling out. There was no honest way for him to have that amount of coin.

Evie Rolfe sat back on her heels and looked at the mess that was her husband.

Ben’s shirt, ripped and stained, offered further evidence he’d been in another fight. It was hard to believe her husband had become this man. As she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, her mind drifted to the past, longing for the man of her memories.

One hot August night five years ago, a stranger had walked into a dance at her church. His stance radiated confidence. A crooked nose sat in a face of raw, rugged features that intrigued her. And as soon as he saw her, the man strode directly to her.

Easily towering over her by several inches, with broad shoulders and a wide, well built chest, he instantly made her feel protected.

“Dance with me.” His eyes, the deepest of green, charmed her. Her heart pounded. Without even asking his name, she’d given him her hand, captivated. In his arms, from the first moment, she’d felt a profound sense of belonging.

Daisy voiced loud displeasure, snapping her back to the present. Frustrated, Evie ignored the cow, instead reaching out to shake Ben awake and then stopped herself. She knew from experience that a few hours rest increased the odds that her husband would actually listen to her and last night’s events had made it clear that she needed him to hear what she had to say today. Terrifying memories snaked through her mind. Her hand shook as it hovered between them for a moment then dropped. The day had just begun. She’d let him sleep.

Evie stood, grabbed an old gray wool blanket they had for the horse, covered Ben with it and took one last look at him before going off to care for Daisy. Sun streamed in through the doorway, warming her while she milked. She had a difficult time focusing on the task though as her gaze kept wandering back to Ben.

The bond between them, frayed and strained, was not yet broken. Their damaged relationship left her emotions in a mess, and she couldn’t stop her thoughts from circling around the conversation to come.

When she turned the cow out to graze, the cloudless sky for once failed to boost her spirits. She continued with her chores, checking on Ben occasionally, but misery dogged her.The morning hours passed slowly. Desperate to stay busy she grabbed some laundry and headed down to the creek.

A pair of ravens glided in the cool breeze above her to perch on the upper branches of a maple tree. Evie knelt by the water, reached into the basket drawing out a red and black checked shirt. Tears began to well. Eyes closed, she buried her face in the flannel, breathing in the scent of pine and Ben.

She wondered how it was possible to miss a person with every fiber of your being when that person shared your home, your bed.

After a moment, Evie set the shirt aside and pulled out the rest of the washing. Her fingers, soon reddened from lye soap and aching from the icy water, brought painful but welcome distraction. Faint sounds of movement carried towards her on the breeze as she wrung the excess water from heavy wool. She looked up toward the cabin and caught a glimpse of her husband’s familiar form before he disappeared into the cabin. Although she wasn’t looking forward to his reaction, her conviction remained solid. The time had arrived for a tough discussion.

Nerves stretched taut, she waited for him to come to her.

Clear blue sky peeked through tree boughs that provided a generous amount of shade. She had rinsed her last item for several unnecessary minutes when the dull thuds of footsteps broke the peace. When he sounded close, she glanced back. The sight of him walking through the shadows of the trees caused a sweet flash of memory.

Ben had coaxed their wedding party outside that glorious spring day, with everything green or blooming. His good humor infectious, he’d claimed that nature’s beauty would bless their marriage. Eager to take on the world, life to him had been a grand adventure. As she walked to where he waited with the minister, beneath a canopy of branches, she’d fallen in love with him even more.

Ben stepped out of the shadows. The bittersweet echo of what had been faded. The years had fashioned clear changes. Scarred by hardship, his current expression was typical of the man she lived with now, hard and defensive. Pale from a certain hangover, his steps slow and measured, the contrast to the past wasn’t kind.

“Hey.” His voice was low and tense as he greeted her, stopping about a foot away.

Her fingers curled up in the soaked material she’d been washing. Ben stood so close if Evie stretched out an arm, she’d touch him. Emotions twisted in a knot, each breath shallow, painful, her head throbbed. She felt every inch of the small but deliberate distance he placed between them. The wounds of recent years were raw and her anger at his absence the previous night so fresh that for a second she had a childish urge to ignore him.

Instead, knowing that would solve nothing, she lifted her chin. “Benjamin,” she acknowledged, stating his name stiff and formal.

“I’m sorry.”

His gaze focused past her, his tone flat, the muttered apology didn’t move her. Evie looked down at the shirt in her hands. She twisted it, wringing out water. “No, you’re not.”

“You’re upset.

“Shouldn’t I be?”

Silence, heavy and expectant, hung between them. She didn’t offer her standard angry accusations or tearful pleas. They hadn’t made a difference before. The pattern remained the same. Her husband refused to alter it. She looked back up at him. Now, for better or worse, things would change.

Ben shrugged. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I mucked out the stalls.”

“Good.”

“And put the saddle in the barn.”

“Fine.”

“Brought in some firewood.”

“Okay.” Impatient, irritation crept into her voice.

“What do you want from me?” His gaze met hers for a split second before looking off into the distance again. “ You want me to say I’ll stop drinking?”

“No.” Ben looked back at her, his eyes wide, shocked. Pleased to have his complete attention, Evie was blunt. “I want you to not drink yourself into a stupor whenever life gets a little hard.”

“A little hard,” Ben bit out.

“Yes, like when we lost-”

“I’m not talking about our son now.”

Evie held his gaze, silent, until the ache in her chest subsided. “I wasn’t referring to James.”

“Good.”

“I meant when the Blakes’-”

“Stole my horses.”

“Well, you did catch them on their ranch and-”

“I didn’t know I was on their land.”

She gave him a soft-spoken reassurance. “I know.”

“Months of hard work gone.”

“I know.”

“Then you should understand.” Anger made his words harsh.

“I know it’ll be a struggle to recover, but it’s doable.”

Ben snorted. “Impossible.”

“As long as you continue down the path you’ve chosen, I agree.”

“What do you mean?” Tone wary, his eyes narrowed.

“Well, for one thing, you shouldn’t cheat our neighbors.”

“Excuse me.” His face a study of outrage but in his voice notes of defiance and satisfaction rang clear.

Evie stood. “You sold Spice.”

“We needed the money.” His gaze shifted, wouldn’t quite meet hers.

“You didn’t say he was only green broke and needed more training. That horse was nowhere near ready for a young rider to handle.”

He lifted one shoulder. “Let the buyer beware.”

A sick feeling settled in her gut. Evie shook the shirt she held out hard. To have a moment, steady her thoughts, she moved over to where the rest of her wet clothes hung and threw it over a free branch to dry. She drew in a breath then turned to face him again.

“Eddie Talbert was thrown.”

His face impassive, Ben didn’t say a word, showing no remorse. Her heart sank, but hope died hard and Evie prayed that some remnants of the man she’d married lay hidden under that brittle shell.

“He broke his arm.”

“He didn’t die.”

Stunned, she couldn’t hide her shock. “Ben.”

“What? I should feel sorry some little rich boy took a tumble?”

“Yes, you should, and accept responsibility for your part in it.”

“I didn’t put him on the horse.”

“No, but you didn’t tell-”

“Drop it.” His tone was now stone cold.

Evie held her temper in check, just. Her fingers curled so her nails bit into her palms. “Some of Talbert’s hands were here last night.”

“Oh?” He angled his face away. “What did they want?”

“A pound of flesh? I don’t know exactly but I think you should return Mr. Talbert’s money.”

“Too bad.”

“Ben they were six men - angry, armed, men. Nothing I said satisfied them. I went in the house, shoved the table in front of the door while they rode around outside shouting threats.”

“Just trying to frighten you.” Ben dismissed her words with a wave of his hand.

Her jaw dropped. She’d been scared out of her mind with good cause. Their homestead was a good hour from the town of Cedar Ridge, the nearest neighbor miles away, unspeakable things could happen to a woman alone out here. Ben knew that.

“Well, it worked. I was terrified long after they left, sat up all night with the rifle in my lap.”

“So you were fine.”

Her body went rigid with indignation. “I was not fine.” Her words were slow and precise, each one distinct. “You should have been home. I needed you.”

“I can’t be here to baby you all the time.”

“I don’t expect that.” Anger as bitter cold as the snowmelt fed creek she stood beside knotted her insides. “But when you kick up a hornet’s nest, you should face the consequences.”

“Fine, you made your point.” The cold, hard words, delivered without a trace of regret, shook her to the core. “I’m leaving. I’ve work to do.”

“Like you did last night? Tell me, what sort of horse training is done after dark?” Bitterness, sharp and painful, seasoned her words, crafted to provoke him.

“Don’t start in again.” His gaze locked on hers. “I have to support us.”

“There are other ways.”

“Which I tried, and they earned me a tiny cabin and an almost empty barn. There’s no reward for being good, doll.”

“How about honor and self respect?”

“I’d rather have the coin.”

“If you’re so pleased with this way of life why do you need to soak yourself in whiskey?”

I need a drink or two to unwind.”

“You were full as a tick when you finally came home.”

“That’s my business.”

Her jaw clenched. Evie looked down and brushed a bit of dust off her skirt. A breeze caressed her face, bringing the scents of moss and recent rain. “I don’t want to argue.”

“Good.”

“But-”

“Evie for the love of-”

“But.” Her tone unyielding, she paused, looked up, meeting his gaze squarely then continued. “Things have to change.”

“Like?” His voice sounded dangerous, a confrontation itself.

“No more lying, cheating and-”

“That’s the way of the world sweetheart.”

His sarcasm stung. “It’s wrong.”

“I do what I need to do and I will again,” he growled with conviction.

The day after Evie married, her brother and only living relative, Henry, had taken off in search of gold. She’d never heard from him again. Ben was all she had. It took no small measure of courage to stand firm.

“I won’t stand by and watch it anymore. You’re hurting these people.”

“Well, you don’t have to.”

“You’ll stop?” Hope laced her voice.

“Of course.”

His voice, silky smooth, disturbed her. “That’s a sudden change of heart.”

“Maybe.” Ben moved close. “I only want … ” His hand reached out and played with a loose strand of her hair. “To make you happy.”

The gesture reminiscent of their early days, when simple, affectionate touches were common, made her heart ache. Evie blinked back tears. The back of his fingers left a trail of tingling nerves across her cheek. She allowed it, savoring the moment then stepped back.

“I get the feeling you don’t believe that.” His voice sounded hoarse, shaded with mockery. She shook her head, unable to speak. He’d traded on her love too many times before and her trust was frail.

“Fine, you won’t have to worry about our poor neighbors any longer because we won’t be here. It’s time we moved on.”

Anxiety made it hard to breathe. The thought of starting all over yet again was almost unbearable. “No.”

“What?”

“I’m not moving.”

“Don’t be foolish.”

“I’m not.”

His head tilted slightly to one side, he studied her. “Do you want to see me arrested?”

“For gambling?”

Ben held her gaze but didn’t say a word. The sick feeling she’d tried to ignore for so long threatened to overwhelm her. She sensed he was waiting for her to ask, to bring things out in the open.

“The sheriff suspects you of something?”

“After last night, it’s just a matter of time.”

“What did you do?” Disappointment tasted like ashes in her mouth.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

His tone set her teeth on edge. “Of course not.”

“Good then-”

“If this is how you want to live then it’ll be without me. I want no part of it.”

“But I’m your husband.” His expression incredulous, he stared at her as if she’d grown horns.

“Yes, I know.”

“Do you know what would happen if I abandoned you? Do you really want to find out how vulnerable a woman alone is?”

“I already have.” The dreadful pressure around her chest increased. She crossed her arms over her stomach. “Last night.”

Silence stretched between them. For a long moment, the only sound came from the wind blowing through the branches of a straggly oak tree near her. Despite the warm spring day, she shivered.

“Look, Evie I … I’m sorry about that.”

Though his words felt sincere when he stepped toward her she put one hand in front of her, palm out. “Please don’t.”

“All right.” Ben stilled. “Just hear me out. We’ll start fresh. We’ll-”

“Own land as far as the eye can see and you’ll build us a grand home? I’ve heard this before.”

“It’ll be different this time.”

Evie fought the urge to cry. “Like it was supposed to be when we lost the boarding house in Montana, the saw mill in Salmon or the little farm right outside Cedar Ridge?”

“I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

“You were passed out in the barn a few hours ago.”

“What do you want me to do?” His hands clenched at his sides and his voice sounded edgy.

“Stop lying to me. Stop cheating people. And please, please stop doing whatever it is you’re doing that has the sheriff asking questions and is driving you to drink. Remember your dreams? Riding the range in the Wild West? You could make that happen. We have good land. We could have a good life here if you’d just-”

“I can’t chase those dreams here.”

“You won’t know unless you try.” Her tone fierce, Evie scowled at him.

“We have to move.”

“Don’t give up, please Ben.”

“We don’t have a choice anymore.”

“Yes, we do.” Tired and cranky, Evie snapped. “I do.”

“I sold it.”

Her vision blurred. A headache pulsed to life, pounding behind her eyes. “You did what?”

“I sold it.”

“Our home?” Her voice trembled, a whisper, barely audible. Dazed, she stared at him. “How could you do that?”

“I did what I thought was best.”

“Without even discussing it with me?”

“It had to be done and I didn’t want to argue.”

Tears clouded her vision. “You knew I wouldn’t agree.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s done.” The note of finality in his voice made her stomach clench. “We’re moving as soon as possible.”

Her poise precarious, it took her a second to respond. In a voice soft, but clear, she forced words out. “You are. I’m not.”

“You can’t stay here.”

“Yeah, you made sure of that.” Sick at heart, she averted her face, looking away.

“Evie-”

“I guess that explains the money.” A short burst of ugly laughter escaped her. “I should be relieved it came from a lawful source, shouldn’t I?”

“Sweetheart, I just-”

The gentle coaxing tone caused tears to spill down her cheeks. “No. Excuses.” She choked out, his attempt at softness now made her want to hit him. Pride kept her upright but she couldn’t take anymore. “Just go.”

Ben stood, studying her silently for a long moment then turned and walked away. Evie stiffened when she heard him pause for a few seconds a short distance up the trail. “I do love you.”

His words sparked a heated response. As the sound of his footsteps faded, Evie kicked the basket hard, sending it flying over the rocky bank. She snatched the flannel up and threw it in the creek with a hoarse cry. Her chest heaved. Tears streamed down her face. She collapsed on the ground and wept until it hurt to breathe.

When the emotional storm passed, Evie got to her feet, slow like an old woman. Her hands rubbed her temples as she tried to ease her vicious headache. She shuffled over to the creek, bending down to splash water on her hot face and her swollen eyes. As she straightened, she noticed the shirt she’d flung, tangled on a fallen log some distance downstream. She made no effort to retrieve it. The sweet connection she’d felt moments earlier had soured.

Dread stalked within as she headed back to the cabin. Her steps dragged. The steady breeze chilled her despite the bright sun. She swayed on her feet, exhausted, though it’d been a short walk to the simple log structure. Still and quiet, it seemed to reflect her loneliness.

Her gaze swept the area. As she’d expected, the pasture appeared empty. He’d left. Arms crossed, her hands rubbed over her upper arms.

Ben wasn’t coming back.

Worn, weary, she felt hollow inside.

All of a sudden, Evie heard shouting in the distance from the direction of the road. Her heart raced. She gathered her skirt up enough to run, dashed into the cabin, grabbed the rifle then peeked outside. No one had ridden in.

An ominous feeling settled in her gut. Warily, Evie stepped outside. Normal day sounds greeted her as she slowly scanned the surroundings. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Though she knew it wasn’t wise, she headed down the road.

A few hundred yards from the homestead, Evie stopped just around the first bend. Shock rooted her to the ground. Sounds evaporated, until only her heartbeat remained. Ben’s flattened hat rested in front of her boot next to a patch of new spring grass, splattered with blood.




Chapter Two (#u40d33630-51d2-5f8d-a895-c06870271aa3)


The low rumble of several horses soon became thunder on his heels. His fingers tightened on the reins. Ben twisted in the saddle, looking behind him. The number of riders who approached him at a fast pace didn’t bode well. As he straightened in the saddle, his gaze swept the area.

Flat grassland stretched for miles to his right. A thick stand of pines sat an impossible distance from the other side of the road. His only hope rested in the direction he had chosen just moments before, down the road toward Evie. Although his gut warned him to put his heels to the mare, race around the bend for home, Ben refused. He’d been a poor excuse for a man but whatever trouble was about to descend upon him, he wouldn’t endanger his wife.

Edgy, he pulled up then hunched forward to hide his actions from view. Ben fumbled, his fingers clumsy, to open the hidden pocket his friend Henry had fashioned in the saddle after they’d been robbed one too many times. He stuffed coins out of a small bag in quickly, gauging how long he had to work by ear. When the riders sounded close, he fastened the flap and tossed the last of the money into his saddle horn bag.

Ben turned to face the danger head on. He didn’t have to wait long as within minutes several men rode up, surrounding him. The stench of stale sweat and rotgut whisky filled the air. The man right in front of him with greasy blond hair and bloodshot eyes glared at him for a second then all six of them dismounted.

“Is there a problem?” Ben strove for calm.

“Yeah.” A man to his left cocked his revolver then ordered in a low, lethal tone. “Get down.”

“Why don’t we just talk for a while?”

Ben heard movement behind him and turned to face it a second too slow. Rough hands pulled him from the saddle. He hit the ground hard, pain radiating from his shoulder, side and hip.

A man stood over him, his expression fierce. “Shut up.”

“Look guys let’s-” With effort, Ben got to his feet.

“You cheated our boss.” A fist slammed into his face. His nose cracked. Blood, warm and metallic, streamed down into his mouth. He staggered back. “And cost us our jobs.”

Talbert’s men. “I can make this right. I-”

Another punch landed on his jaw, jerking his face to one side. Ben remained upright through sheer stubborn will. In rapid succession, several punches slammed into him. He tried to defend himself, landed a couple of blows, but the pummeling continued unabated. Outnumbered and overwhelmed, he soon collapsed.

With him flat on the ground, barely responsive to the most vicious kicks, their attack started tapering off. A heated exchange erupted. Disoriented, Ben struggled to focus. It took some minutes before he grasped the meaning of their words. Raw terror struck his heart. They were arguing over which of them would comfort his widow first once they finished him off.

His fingers curled, forming a fist. Ben lifted his head off the hard packed earth. Anger burned. They had gathered to one side and focused on each other, paying him no heed. His gaze found Sugar about a yard to his left. Seconds felt like hours while he crawled to his horse. He painfully pulled himself up into the saddle.

Ben clutched the reins along with a good hunk of mane and slumped forward. He pointed Sugar toward the trees and put his heels to her flanks, his only thought to get the men as far from Evie as possible. Each stride jarred and sent shards of pain through him. He heard angry shouts then the sounds of pursuit. Desperate, he urged the mare on, faster.

Blood roared in his ears, drowning all other sound, still he sensed the men were closing in. Sadness filled Ben. There was little hope of survival. He’d never get to hold Evie again or tell her he was sorry. She’d never know that he’d turned around and headed back home, that he’d wanted a second chance.

Dear God, I want a second chance.

Pain eroded the remnants of strength. Ben started to slip off one side and barely caught himself. For only a moment, the world came into sharp focus then his thoughts clouded. His grip weakened. The mare started to slow. A moment later, he lost his hold, toppling off her.

Ben rolled for some distance over rocky ground before he at last came to a stop. He ended up flat on his back, stunned. It took several seconds for him to remember how to breathe. Limbs leaden, he tried to get up but could hardly move. A shadow fell over him. He looked up to discover the blond man beside him, a smirk on his face.

A boot slammed into his side and his body exploded in pain. The man kicked him a couple more times. Ben felt ribs snap and moaned, a raw animal sound.

White-hot pain pierced his shoulder then rough hands seized him, pushing hard. He had no strength to resist. They rolled him over an edge and Ben tumbled down a hillside, battered by brush and stones. His misery ended when his head hit something with enough force that agony consumed him and he lost consciousness.

Fingers pressed against the rifle stock hard in a painful, numbing grip, Evie stepped forward, moving past the hat that she couldn’t bring herself to pick up. Her gaze studied each stump and bush for any sign of her husband. Minutes passed like an eternity. Reality pressed upon her, ruthless. The land that surrounded her appeared empty of all but small wild creatures.

By the distant tree line, a couple of deer meandered along. Some small brown rabbits played by a rotting log. A turkey vulture flew by so close her nose wrinkled at its stench. Unsure of what to do next Evie started to turn around to head back home, and then stopped cold.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted distant puffs of dust on the previously deserted road. Rhythmic beats of horse hooves against the earth soon disturbed the quiet. Wind swayed tall blades of roadside grass on either side of her. Evie brought a hand up, shaded her eyes and spotted a rider. The image roused hope. She wanted to believe it was Ben, safe and sound, on his way home.

Apprehension swept over her when it became clear the rider wasn’t alone. Evie could make out three, none with a mount that had Sugar’s coloring. With the realization that Ben wasn’t one of them, another possibility occurred to her.

It could be the men from yesterday.

Alarm rooted her to the ground. Her mind screamed run but her feet refused to move. Nausea churned her stomach. Her legs threatened to buckle. Yet Evie stood, a statue, the entire time it took for them to reach her.

As they neared, it became clear she’d never seen these men before but the sight of strangers brought little relief. They slowed then stopped only feet in front of her. Evie kept a calm façade even as her heart raced. Expressions serious, they didn’t look lost and the only destination on this section of the road was her home.

“Gentlemen.”

“Mrs. Rolfe?” The stocky older man in the center wearing a dusty dull white hat moved his horse slightly forward.

Evie cradled the firearm against her mid-section. “Yes?”

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m William Talbert.”

“Mr. Talbert.” Nerves sharpened her tone. “Did you know some of your men harassed me last night?”

“I’m aware of that ma’am.” He dismounted with the ease of a man who’d spent a lifetime in the saddle. “And I don’t hold with craven behavior. I let those boys go as soon as I found out what they’d done. It won’t happen again.”

Evie inclined her head, acknowledging. “Thank you.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“And you rode out here just to let me know?”

“No.” Anger threaded into his voice as he stepped away from his horse. “I’ve business with your husband.”

His long strides ate the distance between them. With each thud of footfall, her anxiety intensified. Evie inched back, keeping space between them.

“Please stop.”

“If you’ll just-”

“I said.” Her stance wide, Evie brought the rifle Ben had insisted she learn to shoot, and shoot well, up to brace against her shoulder. The firearm wobbled in her hands for a second then steadied. “Stop.”

Mr. Talbert stilled. He raised both hands chest high, palm out and spoke in a tone pitched to soothe. “Ma’am there’s no call for that. Put it down.”

“Not another step.” Evie issued a firm command.

The other men started to protest. Mr. Talbert made a sharp gesture and they fell quiet. “Easy now, there’s no need to get upset. I just want to talk to him.”

“Not today.” Evie stalled as she bore the weight of his steady gaze. Like a cornered animal, she felt trapped. Her grip on the smooth wooden stock tightened until her knuckles gleamed white, a finger hovering over the trigger. “Come back tomorrow.”

“No, he will explain himself today.” His tone was firm.

Her lips parted but no words emerged. Evie couldn’t admit she didn’t know where Ben was, that would reveal she was here alone and she couldn’t ask them for help. These men had reason not to wish her husband well. Seconds stretched into almost a full moment of silence while she tried to decide what to do.

Unexpectedly the sound of another rider interrupted the tense standoff. Evie flicked a glance in the direction of the noise. On a dappled gray horse, a lanky man, the tallest she’d ever seen, wearing a battered black hat, was easy to identify even at a fair distance.

“You asked the sheriff to ride out?”

“I just want to keep things civil ma’am.”

“By threatening me?”

“I haven’t.” His jaw tight, his words came out clipped. “Nor will I.”

Evie wasn’t certain she believed him but with the lawman closing in fast, she made a gesture of good faith. She lowered her weapon, pointing the muzzle to the ground. They waited the few moments in awkward silence until Jim Green joined them.

The sheriff positioned himself between Evie and the other mounted men. His fingers tugged the brim of his hat. “Mrs. Rolfe.”

“Sheriff Green.”

“Though it’s a fine day for a walk.” His voice was studiously polite. “Perhaps we should head back to your place. Mr. Talbert and your husband can settle matters there.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”

“Ma’am?”

“Ben isn’t home. In fact I’m worried he-”

“Where is he?” William Talbert demanded.

“I don’t know. He-”

“Do you know what that horse he sold me did?”

“He threw your son.” Her face stiff and hot, Evie spoke in a soft tone. “I’m truly sorry. I-”

“Your husband conned me.”

“I-”

“My son could’ve died.”

“Again, I’m so sorry but Ben-”

“I’ve no tolerance for lies.”

“Mr. Talbert I don’t-”

“Mrs. Rolfe-”

“Kindly have the good manners to let me finish a sentence.”

He jerked his hat off to hit it against his thigh. “Ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Slow, even breaths eased her agitation. “I don’t know where Ben is.” She held up her free hand when Mr. Talbert started to open his mouth and shook her head. “I don’t but with the sheriff as my witness I give you my word, if it’s possible, I’ll make things right.”

“He should face me like a man.” The older man’s contempt a barb, she flinched. “Not hide behind your skirt.”

“I think you should accept the lady’s offer.” The sheriff’s calm voice of reason entered the exchange.

Seconds passed before Mr. Talbert muttered, “fine.”

“I need to speak to the sheriff first.” Without waiting for agreement, she looked up at the lawman and at last gave voice to her gut-wrenching fear. “Something has happened to Ben. I … ”

Her throat closed. Evie couldn’t continue. Her emotions reactive and raw, tears threatened. She bit down on her bottom lip, struggling to keep control. Sheriff Green dismounted and put a hand on her shoulder. She drew in a shaky breath.

“Ben rode off and I … ” Evie pulled away. “I … ”

“Easy ma’am, take your time.”

“After a time I heard…” Evie paused, drew in a breath. “I thought I heard an argument out here. I came out and … ” She shook her head unable to continue, stepped back and gestured to what she’d found.

His face a blank mask, Sheriff Green studied the scene for a moment. “You go on home now and I’ll take a look around.”

“But I-”

“Can you settle things peacefully with Mr. Talbert?”

“Ah yes but-”

“Trust me ma’am, I’m good at my job.” As he walked past Mr. Talbert to his horse, the sheriff addressed him. “Would you escort Mrs. Rolfe home?”

“I will.”

“I could use the help of your men.”

Mr. Talbert frowned, agreeing in a dry tone. “Of course.”

Evie watched the three men fan out. She trusted Sheriff Green. He’d tried to work out a fair resolution when the Blakes’ claimed the wild horses Ben had caught and trained were theirs all because he’d been mistaken about the property boundaries. It wasn’t his fault the judge, a relative of Daniel Blake’s wife, had ruled against her husband.

Her chest ached with intense pressure. Ben didn’t share her good opinion. He blamed everyone who worked with the law as much as the crooked justice for his loss. And for some reason her husband believed that he was about to be arrested. Time would tell if she’d done the right thing sending the sheriff after him.

“Mrs. Rolfe?”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Evie knelt down, picked up Ben’s hat and pressed it to her stomach. Although she wanted to believe he was fine, the bad feeling in her gut persisted.

“Yes.” Distracted, her tone was polite, perhaps a little flat.

“Shall we?”

Evie nodded then turned around, starting back toward her home without waiting for a response. “What do you want?” She winced as her question emerged sharp, boarding on rude. “Sorry.” She took a breath then tried again. “What would make us square?”

In a terse tone, Mr. Talbert made his position clear. “I return the horse. You return my money.”

“How much would that be?” The sum he named caused her heart to skip a beat. A lump formed in her throat. “I’m not sure I have that.”

“I understand your husband spends a lot of time at The Bucking Pony.” His tone softened, now holding a note of pity.

Her cheeks heated. “What if you kept the horse?”

“It’s not worth what I paid.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that it was.” Evie cleared her throat, swallowing the urge to cry. “I was thinking we could work out something for the difference?”

They walked without speaking for a couple of minutes. The quiet undisturbed save for sounds from the horse Mr. Talbert led. Leather creaked, metal jingled and hooves delivered soft thuds against the ground. He took so long to respond her belly hurt.

At last, he answered simply, “That’s acceptable.”

“Thank you.” Unwilling to risk saying anything that might change his mind, she held her tongue until they reached her home. “Please excuse me a moment.”

Evie entered the cabin, leaned the rifle against the wall beside the door and moved to a shelf by the fireplace. Doubt crept in. She paused a second. They’d always kept their money in the large clay jar. Inside should be some of the money Talbert had paid for Spice and she hoped Ben had left her some coins from the bag she’d seen that morning. One hand crushed her husband’s hat as she reached out with the other, removing the lid.

Empty. She tried to ignore reason but the stark truth sank in slowly. His hat fell from her nerveless fingers.

Ben had left her with nothing.

Anger and frustration rose up and muted the worry. Evie wanted to scream or kick something hard yet did neither. The effort to restrain emotion caused her to tremble. It wouldn’t do for Mr. Talbert to see her throw a fit through the open door.

Pride stiffened her spine. Shoulders back, chin up, Evie stepped back out into the harsh light of day. She looked over at the animal that grazed only yards from the barn. Her eyes closed a second. She owned little of value other than Daisy.

“Would you consider taking the cow?”

“The cow?”

His incredulous tone caused anxiety to well up. Rigid with tension, Evie broke out in a cold sweat. She forced words out past stiff lips, shame ashes in her mouth. “I’m sorry. She’s about all I have. I could throw in a couple of chickens.”

“No.” He studied her awhile. “The cow will be fine.”

Mouth dry she gave him a quick nod then marched over to the barn. She grabbed a halter and a length of rope. The cow stood placid while she readied her to go. Minutes later Evie handed Daisy over to Mr. Talbert as she blinked rapidly to hold back tears.

“I’m very sorry about your son, Mr. Talbert, about everything.”

“I believe you are. Your husband on the other hand…” He swung up into his saddle. “Well ma’am, out here we consider a man only as good as his word.”

Evie winced at the verbal jab but remained polite. “Thank you for accepting the trade.”

“There seemed little other choice.”

Heat crept up her neck.

“I could stay until the sheriff comes back, if you need.”

Composure held by a thread, she forced a stiff smile. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Are you certain ma’am?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“Very well.” Despite his clipped tone, his brown eyes reflected not the irritation she’d expected, but pity, which felt worse. “Good day Mrs. Rolfe.”

Tense, she watched William Talbert ride away at a slow pace set to accommodate Daisy. Although Evie sensed he’d honor their deal, she didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until he disappeared from view. In time, she hoped his anger would fade and they could mend fences someday.

Hours passed. Evie mucked out stalls, tended the chickens, washed dishes and swept the floor. Unable to be still, she then trudged down to the creek and retrieved the sun-dried laundry. She folded clothes, put them away, hung the basket and repaired her clothesline. Even with every conceivable chore completed, she couldn’t relax. She paced outside the window in front of the cabin as the day cooled.

It’s been so long.

Her hands twisted in the fabric of her cloak. Evie looked out to the shadowed lengths of forest. A gentle breeze toyed with loose strands of her hair. The peaceful late afternoon was driving her crazy.

Her angst deepened with each moment that passed. A pair of coyotes emerged from the trees to her left, capturing her attention and interest. Frozen, poised to run, they watched her. All at once, she heard the rumble of wheels rolling over the earth. Startled, Evie blinked and the animals melted away.

Her gaze swept to the road, scared and hopeful. She hardly dared to breathe. Minutes crawled by. At last, a team of mules lumbered into view, an old farm wagon pulled behind them. Wheels tossed up a light cloud of dust as the sheriff rode around from behind the wagon, straight up to her.

“Did you find him?”

“Yes ma’am.” He dismounted to stand in front of her.

An arrow of fear shot through her heart at something in his tone. “Is he … is he … ?” She couldn’t get the question out past numb lips.

“He’s hurt pretty bad. I sent a man for the doctor.”

His somber expression spoke volumes. Tension twisted her gut. Fear rose up, stealing her speech. Evie could only nod she understood as the wagon pulled up near them. The driver climbed down. He and Sheriff Green walked her to the back.

Evie leaned against the rough wood frame as the men lowered the tailgate. She drew in a long deep breath for courage then looked in at Ben, bloodied and beaten. His face was almost unrecognizable. Tears almost blinded her. Twice, her mouth opened and shut without uttering a sound.

How much can a man lose without dying?

All sound faded to the edge of her awareness. Evie stretched forward to hold a hand above his mouth. Breath feathered her palm and a fraction of her apprehension eased. Her gaze unfocused, she straightened.

“If you’ll step back ma’am, we’ll bring him inside.”

For a second Evie stared at the sheriff uncomprehending then his words filtered through. She moved. “Thank you.”

Adrenalin pumped through her veins. Evie darted into the cabin, ripping quilts off the bed as the men entered. They laid Ben down on his back on the mattress. She thrust a pail at the Talbert hand, John, and asked him to fetch some water from the creek. With hands that shook, she lit the lamp. She set it on the dresser and looked down at her husband.

Ashen skin made a stark contrast with blackened eyes. His nose was easily twice its normal size and new smudges marked his jaw, chin and left cheek. Evie reached down, touched his arm and whispered his name. He didn’t respond.

A single tear ran unheeded down her face as she started to tend her husband. Evie pulled off his worn boots. The sheriff helped her strip off his pants. The long, muscular legs sported a few bruises on his thighs but otherwise seemed unharmed. She moved on to his once green flannel shirt.

Stained with dirt and wet with blood, the fabric clung to his shoulder. She gently peeled it away and uncovered more than a battered body, discovering the source of the blood. Heart in her throat she stared at the ugly wound. Her fingers, one by one, loosened the flannel. The ruined shirt fell to the floor. Death was a real possibility.

“Ben?” Evie touched his uninjured shoulder, soft. He reacted with a low moan. She tried again in a more forceful tone. “Please, Ben, wake up. Open your eyes.”

His eyelids fluttered a few seconds then stilled. Evie picked up a blanket and covered him to the waist. She dug out some towels, scissors and an old sheet then tossed most of the supplies onto the table, impatient. Fear raced along her nerves as she returned to sit on the edge of the bed. She put a folded towel over the weeping hole in his shoulder.

“He was attacked?”

“Yes ma’am.”

John returned and set the pail on the floor beside her. Evie got up, filling a pot with water to heat. While the men built a fire, she cut a few long strips from faded cotton, her usually nimble fingers clumsy.

“Who?”

“Ma’am?”

“Who did it?” With a handful of just made bandages, some washcloths and a bowl, Evie returned to her husband’s side.

“I don’t know.”

Her gaze drifted over Ben. The rise and fall of his chest offered small comfort. Evie reached over, brushed back matted hair and found a good-sized lump near his right temple. Tears stung her eyes. She half filled the bowl with water and started to wash the blood off his face.

Anger snapped along strained nerves. Evie shot a glance over at the sheriff. “What do you know?”

“Your husband is a lucky man.”

“Lucky?” Her gaze became a glare.

“One of your neighbors saw his mare, riderless, if he hadn’t I doubt we’d have found Ben in time.”

“Neighbor? Mr. Talbert?”

He shook his head. “Thomas Sullivan.”

“Was he the one who hurt Ben?”

“No ma’am.” Sheriff Green straightened from his crouched position. He hung the pot she’d filled over flames that danced along sticks.

“But he knew where Ben was?”

“Tom showed us where he’d seen the horse.”

“Had seen? He didn’t go after her?”

“Well, ma’am, I’m afraid Tom spotted her at some distance and didn’t feel inclined to investigate.”

The shame burnt her cheeks. “He didn’t care about a loose, saddled horse because he recognized Sugar.”

“He knew it was your husband’s mount.” Sheriff Green cleared his throat. “Anyway, Ben was near there, at the bottom of a small ravine.”

“How did you know to look there?”

“Just like chasing down a wounded animal, we followed the blood trail.”

Evie turned to stare at John with wide eyes, horrified at the images those words invoked. “You what?”

“I think you’ve helped enough, go on home now.”

John had the grace to mumble an apology as she watched him take his leave. A hand touched her upper arm. “You all right?”

Startled, Evie looked up at the sheriff. “I’m fine.”

“You look-”

“Tired? Scared out of my mind?” Although she attempted to sound calm and in control, her voice emerged thin and strained. “I’ll survive.” Evie got up, walked outside, and tossed the fouled water out of her bowl. “When will the doctor get here?”

“Soon I’m sure.”

All of a sudden, Ben groaned. Evie spun at the sound and hurried to her husband’s side. His eyes open, he stared up at her. Pain etched deep lines on his face.

Her fingers lightly touched his. “Ben.”

His lips moved in a sad attempt at a smile. “Hey. Pretty. Lady.” He drew in a breath between each word as his gaze swept the room. “Where am I?”




Chapter Three (#u40d33630-51d2-5f8d-a895-c06870271aa3)


“You’re home.”

Ben looked up at her. His eyebrows drew together. “Home?”

“Yes.”

“I…” His eyelids fell shut. “Don’t … ”

“Ben? Ben?”

Only silence answered. Evie stared down at her husband for a moment longer. He didn’t move or make a sound. Her shoulders drooped. Concern knotted her stomach as she moved over to the fireplace and filled her bowl from the kettle.

Without a word, she strode back to Ben’s side. Evie lifted the blood soaked towel from his shoulder then dropped it on the floor. Nerves stretched taut, she dipped a fresh cloth in the hot water and started to clean around the wound.

“Mrs. Rolfe.” The sheriff paused. Evie glanced up. The tall man pulled up a chair near her, sat down. With a cautious expression and a gentle, careful tone, he asked, “Do you know who’d want to hurt your husband?”

Evie looked back down at Ben. Her eyes burned but she refused to cry. She scrubbed off the last bits of dried blood and dirt. “Ah … ” Her task finished, she laid a fresh towel over torn flesh. “Other than Mr. Talbert, I … ”

“You think Mr. Talbert is responsible?”

“I don’t know, but the other night some of his men-”

A welcome sound drifted through the walls, sending a wave of relief over her. Evie held up a hand and shook her head when the sheriff started to say something. She thrust the bowl on the dresser, almost running to open the door.

In front of the cabin, a buggy rolled up. A slight built man dressed in all brown from trousers to string tie stepped out of the vehicle. With short light brown hair, plain features and wire-rimmed spectacles, the medical bag in his hand was the only thing of note about the man.

“Mrs. Rolfe, this is Dr. Black.” The sheriff walked up, offering the introduction as she motioned the other man inside.

“We’ve met.” She addressed Sheriff Green then turned her attention back to the doctor, clasping his hand. “Thank you for coming.” She gestured to Ben. “He’s bleeding badly.”

“Let me take a look.”

Dr. Black moved directly to the bedside and set his bag on the dresser. With quiet efficiency, he examined her husband. A guttural moan escaped the wounded man’s lips. Evie walked over to the foot of the bed as Ben opened his eyes and lightly touched his leg.

“The doctor’s here.”

Ben looked up at the man beside him then down at Evie. He tried to move then stilled when the doctor placed a hand on his chest. His breath labored, perspiration covered his face. Pain twisted his expression into a grimace. She averted her gaze to stare at the blazing fire.

Dr. Black laid a hand on her arm. “I’ll need hot water and whiskey if you have some.”

After a few seconds, she nodded then with a swish of her skirts, stepped away. She reached up on the shelf and pulled down the large flour tin. Cheeks aflame, Evie avoided the men’s curious gazes as she dug out the bottle she’d hidden. That it was half-full startled her a moment then, with a sigh, she put the container back. Ben had obviously found it.

Her mouth twisted into a travesty of a smile, she handed the liquor to the doctor. She moved to the hearth, lifted the heavy, steaming pot from over the fire then set it down on a folded cloth in the middle of the table. After that, she added soap and some bowls then hovered, watching the doctor spread out his own supplies.

“Your husband is in good hands.”

“I know.” Although grateful for the reassurance, her voice came out hollow.

“You know Dr. Black?”

Evie nodded. Her gaze never left the doctor as he helped her husband swallow some whiskey. He turned from his patient, washed his hands then started on Ben’s shoulder. She watched him clean out the wound without a noticeable flinch but her eyes widened as he threaded a needle. When the sharp metal pierced her husband’s flesh, she felt the blood drain from her face.

Saliva gathered in her mouth. Poise crumbled. She swayed but couldn’t look away. Evie heard the sheriff speaking to her as if from a distance.

“Ma’am … ma’am, maybe you should step outside?”

Her mind fuzzy it took a moment before Evie understood what he’d said and her gaze swung to him. She stared at the tall man a few seconds, blinked then stumbled outside. Crisp, cool air feathered her face.

“You were telling me about some men?”

Evie started. The sheriff had followed her outside. She turned and found him right behind her. “I was?” Movement caught her eye. On her left, a few yards away, was a horse, picketed. “Oh, yeah, yesterday late afternoon…” She heard a groan, paused, flicking a glance back at the cabin. Worried, on edge, she couldn’t stand still, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Some men showed up, mad about Eddie Talbert getting hurt.”

“Do you know who they are?”

“Other than they must work for the Talberts’?” Evie shook her head. “I’d never seen them before.”

“Would you or your husband recognize them?”

“Ben wasn’t here and I doubt I could. They were riding all around, yelling, and firing shots. I was scared.” The doctor appeared in the doorway and gestured for her to come. Evie took a step toward home then stopped, looking back at the sheriff. “But Mr. Talbert would know. He told me he fired those men.”

“Interesting.” He inclined his head. “I believe I’ll head out now ma’am. I’ll be back out soon to speak to your husband.”

As the lawman loosed his horse, Evie walked away without another word, ducking back inside. She scooted around Dr. Black and moved to Ben’s side. He rested, eyes closed. She leaned down, brushing a damp lock of hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Is he going to be okay?” Her gaze went to the man next to her in the midst of drying his hands.

Dr. Black gave her a kind smile. “I need some wide strips to bind his ribs.” He waited until she moved to the table and started to cut the sheet before he continued. “I’ve stitched up the knife wound.” With swift, sure motions, he took the cloth from her and worked it around Ben. “He’ll likely have a nasty headache given the size of that goose egg and these ribs will take a while to heal.”

His neutral tone and carefully chosen words didn’t escape her notice. Evie put the scissors down, watching him finish the binding with her arms hugged around her waist. “So you think he’ll be okay?”

“As long as that shoulder doesn’t get infected, yes.”

Dread settled in her gut. Her mouth dry, she didn’t speak for a moment. She inched closer. “Is that likely?”

“All we can do now is pray.” His gaze held compassion.

“I will.” Evie moved back to the bedside. Her hand touched Ben’s arm for needed contact. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The doctor started to repack his bag.

“What do I owe you?”

“It’s late. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on him.”

“But-”

He patted her hand. “We’ll settle up then.”

“All right.” She didn’t have the heart to protest further.

“The best thing for him is sleep.” Dr. Black shrugged into a light jacket and donned a narrow brimmed hat. He gestured to the bottle still covered with bits of flour. “If he wakes up in too much pain, give him more.”

Evie walked him to the door. The control she’d held so tight threatened to fall apart. Emotion inexplicable, tears gathered. She exhaled a shaky breath. “He could’ve died.”

“But he didn’t.” Gentle fingers cupped her chin, tilting her face up so Evie looked into his eyes. “The best thing you can do for Ben now is get some rest. You need it.”

“I will.”

Without another word, the doctor left. Evie sank down in the chair beside the bed. Weary, she laid her head down, resting her cheek on Ben’s arm. Her eyes drifted shut. Sometime later a touch on her hair startled her awake.

“Doll.”

“Ben?” She lifted her head and opened her eyes to look at him. At first, he didn’t respond. His eyes still closed, she thought perhaps he’d fallen back asleep.

“Hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Head. Side. Shoulder. Everything.”

Evie pushed up her feet, poured some liquor in a cup. She slid an arm under his shoulders and helped him up enough so that he could drink. He never opened his eyes or spoke again. She settled Ben back down then eased away from him. His breathing deepened, in minutes it was clear he slept.

Unable to go straight back to sleep herself, Evie moved around the room, restless. She threw his stained clothing and towels in a basket then pushed it under the bed. Exhausted, her head throbbed. She started to clear the table and swayed. One hand reached out, pressed against the wood surface and steadied her. After a moment, she trudged back to Ben’s side, resigned to sleep again in the chair.

The night seemed endless. Every time her husband made a sound, Evie jerked awake, fear clawing her heart. It took long moments to calm each time. When morning arrived at last, she felt worse than the night before.

Her eyes burned. Muscles stiff and aching, Evie stumbled through chores then returned, collapsing onto her chair. Hours passed. Her hair went uncombed, face unwashed, dress unchanged, she did nothing but sit by Ben who mostly slept until the doctor arrived around noon.

As Dr. Black checked her husband over, he woke for more than a moment.

“What happened?”

Evie leaned close and spoke softly. “You were attacked.”

“I was?” Discomfort clear, he responded with effort. His eyes closed. For a second she thought Ben had fallen asleep yet again, and then he spoke again. “By who? Why?”

“I was hoping you’d tell us.”

“I don’t know. Sorry.” He took a breath. “So I’m at your home.”

“Our home.”

“Our home?” His eyes opened. He turned his head to look straight at her, brow furrowed.

A childhood memory of a man who’d fallen from a horse stirred and concern filled her. “Do you know who you are?”

“You called me Ben.” He took an audible breath. “But my full name is Benjamin, Benjamin James Rolfe.”

“Thank God.” Relief cascaded through her.

Swollen lips attempted to form a smile. “So what’s your name, sweet lady?”

A shiver went down her spine. His words pierced her bubble of cheer. Unease crept over her. She stared at him for a full moment. “That’s not funny.”

“Not trying to be.”

“It’s all right,” Dr. Black inserted. Evie started. She’d forgotten his presence. His low tone a clear attempt to soothe her, the doctor continued. “Go ahead tell him your name.”

“Evie, I’m Evie.”

“That’s a right pretty name,” his words slurred.

“So you said the first time you heard it,” she muttered but her words went unheard. He’d fallen asleep again. Evie turned her gaze on the doctor. His somber expression didn’t comfort her. “Is it normal to sleep like that?”

The doctor nodded. “His body needs the rest.”

“Okay.” Evie accepted that easily and moved on to the question that burned inside her. “Why doesn’t Ben know me?”

“Well, head injuries can rattle a person for a time.”

Worry sharpened her tone. “There was a man where I grew up who forgot everything, everyone, had to learn to dress and eat again like a baby. Is that what’s happening to Ben?”

“I’ve heard of such cases.” Dr. Black took her hand, patting it with his other one. “But Ben knows who he is and that’s a good sign. Give him time, let him recover.”

“Then you think he’ll remember me?”

“Likely.”

“But he might not?”

“Let’s not borrow trouble. Wait a few days. See how he does.” He squeezed her hand then released her and stepped back.

Dr. Black turned to the table, snapping his bag shut. Evie walked him outside. He waited by his buggy while she fetched a small bag of dried apples and a crated chicken.

“Would these cover what we owe you?”

“It’ll do.” The doctor accepted the offering. “I’ll be back out to check on Ben tomorrow.”

Arms crossed at her waist, Evie watched him set what she’d given behind the black leather seat. He climbed in, snapped the reins and drove off. Her shoulders slumped. Alone and solely responsible for Ben, she felt weighed down with worry.

Evie went back to the cabin on leaden feet. Once satisfied her husband rested easy, she sat down, closed her eyes but minutes later remained wide-awake. Though far past tired, she couldn’t settle down. She got up and changed into a clean dress of blue calico, tidied the room, fussed with Ben’s blankets then reached down, pulled out the laundry basket.

After she propped the door open, Evie carried the clothes outside. She soon had water boiling in a large pot hung above a fire and tossed in the stained items. The hot, unpleasant job took up a good portion of her afternoon. She yawned often as she hung the last of the laundry up to dry. The sound of a moan floated out of the cabin while Evie kicked dirt on the fire. She hurried inside straight to her husband.

“Are you all right?”

“Could I have some water?” he rasped.

“Of course.” She filled a mug from the kettle and returned.

His hands shook as he took it from her, which sloshed the lukewarm water over his fingers. Evie put her hands over his to steady them. Ben raised his head, took in a few long sips then pale, shaking, he laid back.

“Thank you, Evie.”

“You remember me?” Tense, hopeful, worried, she hesitated a second then took the mug from his slack grip, putting it down on the dresser.

Ben cleared his throat yet his voice emerged husky. “Of course, you’re the pretty lady who’s taking care of me.”

“So you don’t know who I am?”

“Other than your name, no.” He paused a moment, coughed, then continued in a soft, forced tone. “But I’m guessing I should.”

Evie couldn’t keep the words inside. “I’m your wife.”

“Oh.” He closed his eyes, his exhaustion obvious. “That’s … ”

Ben drifted off again. Evie stomped her foot so frustrated she wanted to scream. She needed him to stay awake more than a blessed minute and talk to her. Her fingers tangled with his as she sank down on the rocker. Tears filled her eyes then spilled over, trailing down heated cheeks. She needed him.

The remainder of the day passed in the same manner. When Ben stirred, they would exchange a few meaningless words. Evie gave him more sips of water and late in the evening, she managed to coax some broth into him. By the end of the very long day, little had changed.

The need for sleep at last overcame her shortly after dark and Evie nodded off in her chair. A glancing blow to her upper arm woke her some time later. She opened her eyes. In the low, flickering light from the dying lamp Ben flailed, not wildly but with soft jerks as if in his dreams, he fought.

“Ben.” Her tone low and pitched to comfort, Evie leaned over him. She captured one of his arms, holding it to the mattress. “Ben, wake up.”

Her husband quieted but didn’t respond. Still weary, Evie started to relax, and then what she felt sank in. Heat radiated from his skin. Panicked she jumped up, grabbed the pail and dashed down to the creek without pausing to take the lamp. She stubbed her toes, snagged her dress on a thorny brush and almost fell into the running water but the terror that so often paralyzed her in the dark simply didn’t register. She filled her bucket and hurried back.

Through the night, Evie soaked rags in the cold water then applied them to his heated forehead. His skin never stayed cool long before it burned again. Every so often Ben would mutter gibberish then thrash about until she soothed him.

Her back ached fiercely by morning light. Evie straightened away from the bed with her hands pressed hard against the base of her spine. She yawned so wide and long her jaw hurt. Noise penetrated her fog of exhaustion. She went to the window and peeked through the curtains. The little black buggy was a most welcome sight. She stumbled over to the door, eager to let the doctor inside.

After a quick exchange of information, Evie let Dr. Black take over Ben’s care. On the verge of collapse, she pulled her rocker across the room out of the way. She sat down, leaned her head against the high back, closed her eyes and slept.

The next few days passed in a blur. Evie rested whenever Dr. Black was there. Naps at odd hours became routine. At the end of the week, a touch on her shoulder woke her from one. She blinked up at the tall man for a moment until her wits gathered.

“Sheriff Green.” Evie sat up straight, pushing her hair out of her face. “Do you have news?”

“Well Doc just said he believes the fever broke.”

She sagged back against the chair. “Thank God.”

“I came out to speak to Ben. Clearly he’s in no condition for that now but … ”

An uneasy feeling knotted her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“Perhaps we should talk privately?”

“All right.” Evie glanced over at the man who sat next to the bed and looked almost as tired as she felt. “I need to step outside with the sheriff for a moment.”

Dr. Black acknowledged her words with a nod. She stood and led the sheriff outside. Her gaze swept the area as she emerged from the cabin. She took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air.

Sheriff Green moved in front of her. “Ma’am you’re aware your husband has … irritated folks?”

Evie could barely contain an unladylike snort. She arched an eyebrow and answered in a tone as dry as late fall leaves. “Yes.”

“In the time you’ve lived here he’s made questionable deals, caused trouble in town drinking and brawling, there’s more than one accusation of cheating and he’s suspected of-”

“Your point?” Her voice lowered to just above a whisper. That his words were true made them no less difficult to hear. “Are you trying to say Ben deserved what happened?”

“No ma’am, but I’m warning you some might see it that way.”

“Who? The person or people who hurt him? Do you know who did it?”

“The men Talbert fired were overheard celebrating that your husband was hurt. They also had his horse.”

“So you arrested them?”

“I did when they started a fight and tore up the saloon. But those are the only charges I’m holding them on.”

Evie shook her head, confused. “Not for attacking Ben?”

“I’ve no proof of that.”

“But you just said-”

“It’s not a crime to be happy that a man got beat up.”

“But…” With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she tried again to protest. “ They-”

“All swear they had nothing to do with it.”

“They had his horse.” She enunciated each word with force.

“They claim they found it wondering loose, knew the mare belonged to you and were going to return it.”

Heat burned across her cheeks. “So you’ll do nothing.”

“Not much I can do ma’am. I rode out here hoping Ben could tell me something, some detail that might help but-”

“Dr. Black told you Ben might not remember.” Her hands twisted together. A band tightened around her chest.

“I hope for your sake he does.”

Wearing a calm mask, she met his gaze. “Why?”

“I can’t hold those boys long and I’ve heard ugly rumors.”

She stiffened. “Rumors?”

“Those boys are locals. They all grew up here.”

“And we’ve only been a here a few years.”

The sheriff nodded. “Word about the Talbert boy has gotten around. There’s not a whole lot of sympathy for your husband’s injuries. In fact there’s some anger directed at him still.”

“I see.” Her stomach rolled.

“Ma’am I’ll do my best but I’m only one man.” His serious tone and the concern in his gaze, slammed his message home. The neighbors likely wouldn’t help if someone decided to hurt Ben again and the sheriff couldn’t protect him.

“I understand.” Her hands clasped tight together. “Anything else? I should get back to my husband.”

Sheriff Green studied her for a tense moment. “I brought your horse back. She’s in the barn.”

“Thank you.”

“I checked the saddlebags. They were empty. Did Ben have anything of value?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Has he brought home any extra money?”

“What are you really asking?”

“It’s important I have the facts ma’am. Did he have any –?”

“No. There’s no money here. You’re welcome to look if my word isn’t good enough.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Dr. Black strolled from the cabin. “I need to get going.”

“Of course.” Evie managed a stiff smile. “Thank you.”

Without waiting to see either man off, she stepped into the open doorway. Evie paused there. Her fingers gripped the wood frame hard. The sound of hooves and wheels faded as she stood, staring at Ben who slept yet again. Her head bowed. Worn out, she felt alone, abandoned.

A surge of fury suddenly crashed over logic. Her chin lifted and she glared at her husband. Evie stomped across the room, snatched up a pot, set it down hard on the table. A quick glance showed Ben undisturbed.

I’m tired of understanding.

Lips tight, Evie shook her head. Being patient. She put chicken broth and dried vegetables in the pot then hung it over the fire on a hook Ben had fashioned. Feeling alone in the same room. Her actions jerky, she pulled a small crock off a shelf then opened the towel wrapped around the half loaf of cornbread.

Her hands shook as she cut off a couple of slices then smeared butter over them. Movements slowed. Tears fell.

Evie looked over at Ben. Hair fell untidy across his forehead, his face a patchwork of charcoal smudges, a few more colorful bruises and pallid skin. I almost lost you.

Drained she made no effort to wipe her cheeks. Slowly she moved her chair back next to the bed. She grabbed her snack, poured a mug of coffee and sat down. Without enthusiasm, she washed her food down with bitter liquid. When she finished, Evie reached out and touched his chest.

Her fingers lingered, moving in a soft caress. A dark brown mat of hair spread out over his upper body until it disappeared beneath his bound ribs. Evie laid her palm flat on his lower belly a moment then pulled back. Sadness whispered. She’d all but forgotten how it felt to touch him. She stared at the dregs of her coffee, and rocked herself for comfort.

Ben cleared his throat. The young woman didn’t respond, just kept rocking. He cleared his throat again, louder. She stilled a second then faced him, her expression a polite mask.

“Good afternoon.”

Though pain tugged at him, Ben studied her, curious about the stranger who claimed to be his wife. Hair, a rich, deep golden brown, tumbled from a haphazard braid to fall about a pretty face with even features dominated by eyes an intriguing sky blue. With sun kissed golden skin and a strong yet gently curved body, she was exactly his type of woman.

“Is it? I feel weak as a kitten.”

“You’ve had a rough few days.” Her voice had a low husky quality. “Are you hurting?”

His head pounded, his whole body ached and any deep breath brought pure misery. “Oh yeah.”

“I can get you some-”

“Not now thank you … Evie … is that right?”

A flash of emotion disturbed her expression. “Yes.”

“And … Did you say you’re my wife?”

“I did.” Her flat, almost lifeless voice disturbed him.

A spasm of pain seized him, commanding attention. Sweat bathed his face. It took little time before it became tolerable but each second that ticked by worsened his mood. Everything felt out of his control.

Patience fled. Ben challenged the woman, skepticism clear in his testy tone. “How is that possible?”

“Standing before a minister and affirming vows before God and witnesses has that effect,” Evie snapped; her voice frost.

Her words hung in the air. Anger flashed in her eyes before they went flat. Ben didn’t know how to respond. Her certainty troubled him but what the doctor had suggested just couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be. Irritated, uncomfortable, he shifted.

“What are you doing?”

“I want up.”

Her lips pursed in disapproval but Evie helped him without protest. Tremors shot through his body, stealing his breath as he moved into a seated position. Lastly, she had Ben lean forward and stuffed a folded blanket behind him for support. He sagged back against the padding.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Stilted words reflected the awkwardness between them. Evie paused, studying him a moment. “Hungry?”

“A little.”

In minutes, she brought him some thin soup and water. He devoured the food then handed her back the empty bowl. Though now every breath spread splintering pain, he took a few sips from his cup, one hand pressed against his aching ribs. What little energy he had left started to fade. Even so, he was determined to address her claim.

“Do you have proof?”




Chapter Four (#u40d33630-51d2-5f8d-a895-c06870271aa3)


“Yes.” Evie glared at Ben, her tone decidedly cool as she got out of the chair. She knelt down, reached underneath the bed and pulled out a small wooden box. From inside she took out a photograph, handing it to him. “Your wedding present to me.”

Ben stared at the black and white picture, worn from many handlings. The upper right corner had a long, narrow white line and along the bottom there were spots from water but the image was clear. “We made a handsome couple.”

“Satisfied?”

“Confused.” A note of impatience spiced his words as he continued to study the smiling people captured on paper. No memory of that day, place or her stirred in his mind. “We’re married.”

“Yes.”

“You’re my wife.”

Her hand came up. Fingers squeezed the bridge of her nose as she sucked in a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay.”

“I doubt that.” His tone was full of wry amusement.

Her fleeting smile as she stood acknowledged that truth.

Unsure how he felt or what to do, Ben shifted his gaze from her to look around the room. “This cabin isn’t familiar to me.”

“Ben.” Evie paused. Tension radiated from her. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

His thoughts sluggish, it took Ben a few minutes before he answered. “Heading to town with Henry. Is that where we met, in Joplin?”

“No.” Her heart sank. Her brother met Ben when they worked in a Missouri mine, a year before their wedding. “That happened when Henry brought you home.”

He seized on that bit of information. “We’d talked about that.” A wrinkle formed between his brows. “We were sick of working underground, wanted to quit, head west. Then … he got news about his family in … Indiana and, I can’t remember why but we were going to go there first.” He tilted his head to one side. “You know Henry?”

“He’s my brother.”

His eyebrows drew together. “You’re Cookie?”

“That’s what he called me.” Her lips curved slightly, a ghost of a smile.

“Called? Did something happen to Henry?”

Evie shrugged a casual motion to cloak emotion. “I don’t know, haven’t seen him in years.”

“Went looking for gold?”

“Yeah, he left the day of our wedding.”

“That upset you?”

“I wasn’t thrilled.” She delivered the understatement in a dry tone. With their grandfather in poor health, she’d wanted Henry to stay at least for a while.

“So instead of going with him as I’d planned, I stayed in Indiana with you?”

Until Grandpa died. Evie winced, her head started to throb and she decided to keep it short. “For a time, then we moved west.”

“We’re in California?”

Evie shook her head. “Cedar Ridge, Idaho.”

“That’s not bad. You know, I always wanted to live out west and have adventures like those in dime novels.”

“I know.”

His expression tightened, he appeared troubled by the notion that she knew him well. “I need to lie down.”

“All right.”

Concerned by the weakness in his voice, Evie bent over him, helped him change position. She had Ben comfortably settled in a matter of minutes. As she moved away, he captured her wrist in a strong grip that caught her off guard. She stared at him, shocked. Her heart beat at a furious pace.

“How long?”

“Since you were hurt?”

“Have we been married?”

“Oh.” Her voice soft, she answered, “Five years.”

“Kids?”

She suddenly forgot to breathe. After some seconds, Evie pulled free in a firm but gentle move. She plucked the picture from where it had fallen on his blanket, looking at their image for a few seconds then back up at him. “No.”

Evie knelt back down by the open box on the floor. With care, she covered the photograph in linen and replaced it. A folded section of yellowed newspaper rested to one side. She shifted so that her body blocked what little view Ben had and reached for it.

“Evie?”

“You should get some sleep.” Her tone flat, dismissive as she unwrapped the paper, running fingers over soft yarn.

Her chest ached and tears stung her eyes. Head bent, she blinked them back. Evie studied what she held for a long moment then drew in an uneven breath. She refolded the paper, tucked it away. Her hands shook as she closed the box then pushed it back in its place.

“Evie?”

Again, his soft tone made her name a question, one that she ignored. Evie got to her feet and walked over to the fireplace, her mind on the past. She poured some coffee then spooned honey into the steaming liquid. Fatigue crept over her, numbing her thoughts. Wordless she returned to her chair, sat in silence, sipping the hot sweetness until it at last she registered that Ben had spoken.

“Yes?”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Evie took a long drink. “Many things.”

“Such as?”

“It seems…” Weary, she sighed, long, loud. “That I have years to explain.”

“Evie I-”

“It’s been a long day. I’d rather talk tomorrow.” Her gaze focused on her lap, shoulders stiff, Evie braced for an argument that never came. Instead, after an extended silent pause, she heard the deeps breaths of sleep.

Dusk had called forth shadows by the time a quick glance confirmed her husband indeed slept. Relief seeped through her as she stood up. Evie placed her mug on the dresser and tucked another faded patchwork quilt over him. She banked the fire and then scooted the table in front of the door for a measure of security. With one gentle breath, she blew out the lamp’s flame then sat back in the rocker, shivering under a thin blanket.

Time crawled by. Worry gnawed at her thoughts and kept her awake. One hand toyed with the folds of her skirt. After her vision adjusted to the darkness, Evie studied the stranger who was her husband.

Memories of their courtship danced through her mind. Ben had pursued her with a single-minded intensity. A romantic, he’d used every opportunity to kiss her hands, brought her a flower he’d picked daily and wrote her poetry, bad poetry. A smile teased at her lips. The attention had intoxicated her, touching her heart. Her eyes closed. She’d fallen hard and fast.

In the quiet night, disturbed only by his strained breathing, the sad state of her life crowded out the pleasant feelings from those memories. The dreams she had then, had since been crushed. Evie wept quietly until exhaustion claimed her and she yielded to the oblivion of sleep.

Morning arrived fast. To Evie it felt as though she’d just closed her eyes when sunlight streamed through the open curtains and warmed her face. Not fully awake, the sensation of being watched awakened annoyance. She grimaced, turning her head to find the source. Her gaze met Ben’s steady regard. The weight of his consideration made her squirm, suddenly self-conscious.

Flustered, she tossed her quilt off onto the bed and got up. Her husband beckoned her to come closer before Evie could put distance between them. Concerned, she leaned down. His fingertips lightly brushed tangled strands of hair off her cheek.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

One simple touch triggered a cascade of emotion. His gaze held hers captive. Liquid fire raced heat through her veins and her breath became swift, shallow, audible. Seconds ticked by in sweet anticipation.

“You’re one pretty lady.”

The spell broke as suddenly as it was spun. Evie straightened and turned away in one motion. She breathed in deep then let it out slow. The connection between them felt as strong as ever but then chemistry had never been the problem. Her back to him, a single tear ran down her cheek unheeded.

“Did I do something wrong?” A suggestion of desire threaded his voice.

Lips stiff, Evie managed to keep her tone even while she walked across the room. “No.”

“Why’d you move away?”

The gently voiced question scraped on raw nerves and Evie didn’t answer for a few minutes. She worked to put the room to rights, addressing what she’d neglected the night before.

“What’s wrong?”

Her teeth bit on her inner cheek. She held back words Ben wouldn’t understand, couldn’t respond to in any satisfactory way since he didn’t remember. Evie sat down and laced on boots, keeping her gaze fixed on her fingers. “Nothing.”

“Hey, please, talk to me.”

The bed ropes creaked. At the sound of a soft grunt of pain, Evie glanced up. Ben had rolled onto his side. Propped up on one arm, he focused on her. The expression on his battered face made it clear that her husband wanted an answer.

She finished her task then met his gaze. Her hands curled into fists, fingernails bit into her skin as she contemplated a calm response when pent up resentment clamored for release.

“You … startled me.”

“How so?”

“It’s been a long time since you’ve touched me.”

“Why?”

“We…” Evie shook her head. The thought of explaining their relationship overwhelmed her. She simplified. “Haven’t been getting along.”

“Why?”

His repeated one word question relayed demand. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m not going anywhere, take your time.”

“I’d rather not.”

The rigid set of his shoulders and a muscle that twitched along his jaw reflected exasperation. “I need to understand what’s going on between us.”

“I know.” Evie blew out a breath, flattening her hands to rub sweaty palms on her skirt then stood. “I’ll explain.” Her tone wobbled. “Just not now.”

Control slipping, Evie strode across the room. She moved the table, hurried outside and shut the door behind her. An almost desperate need to be alone drove her.

Running away again?

Her steps faltered. His voice sounded so clear, Evie glanced back at the cabin. Solid wood remained between her and Ben. While he’d made that accusation often before, today it was merely an echo in her mind. Shame bled through her. She bit her lip then pressed on.

Every breath became a tiny cloud of frost. Dew dampened the hem of her skirt as she walked to the barn. Inside, hidden from her husband’s sight, waves of emotion washed over her as she leaned against a rough wall. Uncertain if she felt sad, angry, relieved or resentful, Evie sensed the tangled mess within her threatening to tear her apart.

Her breath came in hiccups. Both hands came up, covered her face, but Evie didn’t cry, just shuddered. Minutes went by before she regained control. She pulled in a deep breath, held it a moment then released it. Her spine straightened, hands lowered, and she at last tackled chores.

To care for a few chickens and a horse didn’t take long but it was more than enough time to worry over the hard conversation Ben would likely insist on having. Feet all but dragging, Evie started toward the cabin a short time later, a small basket of eggs on her arm.

A pair of butterflies, gold and brown, danced on the breeze in front of her. Beauty held her gaze a few minutes then flew away when she reach the cabin. The sound of hoof beats gave her an excuse not to open the door. Evieput the basket down then turned to watch a short, large man ride up on a bay horse.

Her eyes narrowed. If this stranger meant harm, Ben could do little but bleed. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders and moved directly into the man’s path.

He pulled up in front of her. “Mrs. Rolfe.”

“Yes.”

“I’m William Sims.”

“Mr. Sims.”

“Do you know who I am?”

An arrogant man who doesn’t dismount so he can try to intimidate me. Short on sleep and temper, Evie wasn’t in the mood for games. “You’ve given me your name.”

“I’m the bank manager.”

“Oh.” She tried to keep irritation out of her voice. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Didn’t your husband mention me?”

“I’m afraid not.”

His mouth tightened. Mr. Sims studied her a moment then with a loud put upon wheeze, dismounted. “I bought out the loan on this place.”

“I see.” Evie felt the blood drain from her face. Her mind blanked for a second then she blurted out, “Did you have proof?”

“Proof? Are you calling me a liar?”

“No, I’m asking to see legal paperwork, Mr. Sims.”

His jaw clenched. “I didn’t bring any.”

“Well, when you do we can discuss-”

“I didn’t ride all the way out here to chat.” He stepped forward, got in her face, one hand raised, his forefinger pointing at her. “I want you and your husband off my property today.”

Her heart raced, she abandoned her argument in panic. “But Ben’s hurt. We need-”

“Not my problem.”

“A few weeks … even one-”

“No.” Dark brown eyes reflected no emotion, empty, cold.

“Please.”

Silence ruled for a moment while they stood, staring at each other, then his gaze wandered down the length of her body. Time seemed to slow. He reached out and fingered a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid. Her mouth dry, she trembled, barely breathing.

“Perhaps we could work out an arrangement.”

Her knees threatened to buckle. “We could pay some rent.”

“That isn’t what I have in mind.”

Fear crawled down her spine.

She inched back.

He followed her.

The urge to turn and run was strong but Evie was too scared to take her eyes off him.

“That’s all I have to offer.”

His hand brushed her arm. “You’ve a great deal to offer.”

The calm tone made a bizarre contrast to the menace she read in his gaze, Evie froze, staring at him. He smiled. Her eyes widened. Before she could move, he lunged, seizing her. His fingers dug into her shoulders. She jerked free with a panicked cry.

Frantic, Evie stumbled backwards until she hit the cabin wall. He pursued, trapping her against it, with a hand pressed against the logs on either side of her head. Terror slid like ice in her veins.

Click. Click.

The distinctive sound of a shell being jacked in froze the banker. Evie looked in the direction of the sound. Ben stood propped against the doorframe, naked as the day he was born, the rifle in a firm grip aimed at William Sims.

“Get the hell away from my wife.”

Mr. Sims backed up, hands in the air. “I meant no harm.”

“Ride off.”

“We need to discuss-”

“Between his eyes or between his legs, sweetheart?”

The banker paled. He hustled to his horse, mounted and rode away at a swift pace.

Evie darted to Ben’s side, caught him as he started to sag.

“I might need your help getting back to bed.”

“What were you thinking?” With one hand, Evie grabbed the rifle, setting it inside against the wall while she placed herself under his right arm for support. “You’ve probably torn your stitches.”

“You’re worth it.”

“Oh, so now you remember me?”

“No.”

The stark word felt oddly like rejection. It stung. Her gaze dropped to the toes of her boots. Self-pity weaved through her emotions. Jaw tight, Evie stepped forward. This wasn’t the time to feel sorry for herself. She needed to get Ben inside.

Together they staggered into the cabin and across the room to the bed. Evie did her best to help him ease down onto the mattress but couldn’t fully support his weight. He fell in the process. She hovered close, worried, until Ben reached up and cupped her cheek.

“I’m sorry I upset you.”

“I’m fine.” Her voice faint, Evie moved out of reach.

Her gaze moved to his shoulder as she pulled the quilt up to his waist. The activity left white linen stained red. She fetched a rag, water and clean cloths then returned to him.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I am fine.” Evie removed the bloodied bandage then started to wash the area.

“All right.” Through gritted teeth, Ben pushed out terse words. “So what happened out there?”




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