The Heart's Haven

by Jill Barnett

  Kit crossed the room in two angry strides.

  Hallie crossed her arms and glared back. “Well, tell me why you love me.”

  “I love you because . . . because I do!” he shouted.

  “That’s not good enough!” Hallie raised her chin.

  He paced back and forth. Then he stopped. His frustrated face became smug. “Okay then, why do you love me?”

  “I asked you first.”

  “Goddammit, Hallie! I love you because you’re my wife!”

  Hallie’s stomach dropped. “Duty, you love me out of duty? Just because you are married to me.”

  He turned his eyes toward her, and Hallie saw a pained expression crease his face. “No, that’s not why. I’m not sure if I can find the words.” Kit shoved his hands into his pockets, and he began to pace as he spoke. “I love you because you taught me how to love again, because you remind me how full life is when you love someone, when you share your life, when you share your bodies. I love you because you washed away the hurt in here,” he placed his fist in the middle of his chest.

  His voice rang with sincerity. “I love because you gave me your heart when I didn’t deserve it.”

  He paused in front of her. “I love you because you’re giving . . .”

  Hallie closed her eyes, unable to believe that he was telling her what she needed to hear, and in the words of her dreams.

  “ . . . and loving.” He hunkered down in front of her and placed his hand gently on her knee.

  She covered his hand with her own.

  “ . . . and beautiful.” His fingers closed around hers and he stood, pulling her up into his arms.

  Hallie melted into him, and then Kit tilted her chin upward, and his thumb caressed her jaw, wiping off the few water drops that lingered on her face and mingled with her tears.

  “ . . . and because,” Kit took a deep breath, “ . . . because when I kiss you, my soul cries.”

  “Oh, Kit,” Hallie whispered just before his lips touched hers. As before, their kiss flared and deepened. His tongue stroked her mouth and then retreated so he could again murmur his love against her lips, over and over.

  She buried her fingers in his curly black hair and pulled him closer, wanting to meld to him, her lips, her breasts, her heart.

  “I need you so, Hallie, God knows how I need you . . .” He cupped her face and stroked her with a look so full of love and desire that she cried out.

  Kit’s hands cupped her head as he kissed her cheeks, her neck, and her ears, and her hands moved from his hair to his neck, where she feathered her fingers lovingly over the sensitive skin behind his ears.

  He groaned, and then his hands were unfastening her dress and pushing it to the floor. He pulled his mouth from hers and moved back, out of her embrace.

  “Step out of it.” His voice ached with want.

  Hallie stepped away from the pool of her dress, straight into his loving arms. He leaned down to kiss her shoulders, his lips kindling her desire while his hands untied her crinoline and petticoats. Standing just inches away, Kit slowly pulled loose the small ties on her corset cover, his fingers tracing the curves revealed with each piece of clothing that fell away.

  It was sweet torment, both of them watching as eyelet by eyelet he unlaced her corset until his hands filled with her breasts. His thumbs stroked her nipples, and Hallie kissed him, hard, using the stroke of her tongue to tell him of her pleasure.

  He knelt before her, untying her drawers and pushing them slowly down her legs. His fingers feathered up and down the insides of her calves and thighs, touching with equal tenderness the puckered skin of her scar.

  Hallie moaned at the exquisite tingle of his touch upon the flesh of her legs. His hands roved over and around her legs, stroking her bottom, the backs of her knees, and the hollows of her thighs, nearing but not touching her aching center.

  Her hand gripped his shoulders, and he kissed her belly, slowly dragging his damp lips and tongue upward, over the creases left from her corset. Her skin felt hot, burning from the inside out. He kissed the heavy undersides of her breasts while he tore off his shirt. Then he pressed her soft thighs against him and his hands kneaded her buttocks while in turn his lips closed over the large pink circlets that crowned her breasts, pulling at them with the suction of his mouth. With every touch and every breath, he worshiped her body, showing her his love in a kiss, a stroke, and a whisper, hot against her skin. He drove her wild.

  When he stood, no clothing covered him. They embraced, skin to skin, and he lowered her to the bed, crawling between her legs while he settled her against the pillows. He rose above her, sipping at her lips and positioning his hard tip against her pleasure point. Then he rubbed, gently, sending wave after wave of exquisite feeling through her. Wild with need, she grabbed at his buttocks, trying to dip him into her.

  “Wait,” he whispered, and before his command registered, he had lifted her essence to his lips and tasted her.

  “No,” she moaned, her mind wanting to stop the wickedness of his tongue, but her body craved more.

  “Yes,” he breathed, his lips nibbling at her, over and over until she pulsed with repletion.

  Then he filled her, thick and hard. His mouth lowered to her ear. “I love you . . . I love you . . .” he said, his words in rhythm with his pumping hips.

  Again her pleasure rose, higher and higher, and he stopped, turning with her onto his back, letting Hallie control the movement. She stilled her hips and slowly bent forward, rubbing her hard nipples over his ribs. Her mouth kissed his nipple and she lifted her hips upward so she was linked only by the very tip of him. Then she rotated her hips, once, twice, and in an instant she was on her back again as he drove into her with long, deep strokes, faster and faster, until the sweetness claimed them both.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Hallie drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair, wondering where Kit was. He had been called away well before supper, and she had expected him to be home by now. The clock chimed eleven times and Hallie gave up.

  “Well, cats,” she told the animals that sat all over the furniture, “I guess that’s what happens. They tell you they love you and then they stay out all night.”

  She laughed. She knew from the past few days that Kit would never be long from her side. He loved her with his whole being, of that she had no doubt.

  Like a fairy tale, all her girlish dreams had come true. It was still hard to believe. Sometimes at night she would awaken and just watch him sleep, knowing that he was hers, heart and soul. She would look at his hair, curly and dark against the white of his pillow, and remember how it felt against her fingers. She would stare at the muscles in his back and shoulders and would remember how they strained hard against her palms when he made love to her. And she would watch him breathe, the slow breath of sleep that was so like the way he would breathe words of love and passion into her ears. And sometimes, tears would trickle down her cheeks just because she loved him.

  Hallie sighed and went to check the locks, as Kit had asked. Duncan had gone somewhere tonight. With everything bolted, she went upstairs, undressed, and got into bed, hoping Kit would wake her when he came home.

  She closed her eyes, but not more than a minute later she heard a noise and opened them. Her heart beat fast when she saw the dark figure crawl through the window.

  Oh, that man! she thought. He’s kidnapping her again. A beefy hand closed over her mouth and nose. She gave some token resistance. After all, she wouldn’t want this to be too easy.

  Once again she was gagged, tied, and wrapped in the blankets. Lee could have been more original this time. She’d have to talk to him about it when he unwrapped her.

  Of course, the figure had been burly, which Lee wasn’t. Hallie started to wonder, but then she remembered Duncan. Kit was using him instead of Lee, just
to throw her off.

  They reached the ground with a jarring thud, and Hallie decided she’d have to talk to that Kit about finding a more comfortable way to snatch her. She would insist on it. She waited for the sound of the carriage door, but instead she was heaved like a sack of potatoes onto a rock-hard surface. Her mind flashed with the cold gruel she would feed Duncan at her very next opportunity.

  Her protest muffled against the gag and the chill of the air disappeared when something heavy covered her. A thud vibrated from in front of her, and she realized that this was a wagon when Duncan clucked the team and the reins jangled. She bounced along the hard wagon bed, knowing she’d be covered with bruises by tomorrow. She intended to plant some bruises of her own on those stupid men!

  After much bouncing, the wagon finally halted and Duncan lifted her out. She wasn’t very happy with her treatment, so she tried to kick out at him, but he heaved her over his shoulder and carried her down some stairs. Obviously they weren’t going back to the Haven because they would have had to go upstairs first. She wondered where they were. This place didn’t smell very good, sort of old and burnt.

  Duncan set her down, and then he did the oddest thing—he shoved her hard and she stumbled, falling in a heap of blankets onto the cold, bare floor. She yelled through her gag, but the sound was lost because the door slammed shut so loudly. She struggled to get out of the tangle, but no matter how she rolled, she was still caught.

  She heard male voices and what sounded like the clink of coins before an outer door slammed shut. The click of the door signaled its opening. She heard the sliding shuffle of shoes.

  It was then that she panicked. Kit wore boots whose heels clicked across the floor. He was too confident and proud to ever drag his feet.

  Oh, my God! This is real!

  Someone jerked the covers from her and she rolled onto the cold floor. Hallie looked up at the drawn, sunken face of Abner Brown.

  He smiled and then looped a rope around her neck, tightened it, and tied it to a thick beam. He never said one word, he just walked out a narrow door.

  She pulled on the rope, but it was a noose, so as she pulled, it tightened. If she kept pulling, she’d hang herself. She quickly scanned the room. It was a dark, partially burned room with no windows, like a cellar. Broken tables and a lopsided, charred cabinet were scattered through the room, and large areas of the floor were covered with rubble of burned wood and ash. A few battered coffins sat in a corner, and she realized that this must be what was left of the funeral parlor.

  Her mind raced for a means of escape. A small door was barely visible in a shadowed wall. She remembered that the building sloped down the hill, which meant that she might be able to scoot out that door if she could somehow get free from this madman.

  She had no idea how long she sat there, but any hope of escape disappeared when Abner came back, followed by a burly man with another bundle.

  “Set her over there,” Abner ordered in an odd, raspy voice that had lost its whine.

  The man dropped the bundle, and Dagny, tied and gagged, rolled against Hallie’s feet. Hallie looked at her sister’s eyes, fearing they would be dull again. They weren’t. Dagny stared at her before her frightened eyes darted back to Abner.

  Gold coins clinked again as Abner paid the man and then closed the door, turning back toward the women. He walked over and tied Dagny as he had Hallie, again saying nothing. Then he stood back and eyed them.

  “I’ve been waiting for this,” he told them. “Waiting and watching, and hiding,” he spat, “like some animal!”

  Hallie mumbled through her gag, and he walked toward her. His watery eyes looked from one sister to the other. He grabbed the rope around Hallie’s neck and jerked it hard. The noose closed roughly on her throat then loosened, and she fell forward onto her stomach. She lifted her face from the dirty floor, looking up at him, panicked over what he would do next. He held the rope up for her to see and pulled again. Hallie cried out against the gag as the rope burned and squeezed her neck.

  “Does that hurt?” he asked.

  Hallie was silent.

  “I can see it does.” He smiled and turned toward a table, where he grabbed a bowl and a basket and turned back around. Then he sat down on the floor and pulled a tinder from the bowl. He opened the basket and pulled a long, thin needle from inside.

  Hallie tried to hide her fear at the sight of the instrument, thinking he intended to torture or stab them with it. But instead he placed a black ball on the end and then lit it, rolling it over the flame until it smoldered orange. He sucked in the smoke, holding it tightly with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. Then he expelled the air and repeated the action over and over, and the smell of the smoke, sweet and strong, made Hallie’s stomach lurch.

  “How does it feel to be tied up like some animal?” His eyes teared, and he breathed gasping, shallow breaths.

  Hallie tried to mask her fear, and she heard a muffled protest from Dagny. Turning her head toward her sister, Hallie frowned and shook her head slightly, warning Dagny to be quiet.

  “I know what it’s like to be treated like an animal, hunted and forced to hide.” He took in more smoke. “You sent them after me, didn’t you?” He stared at Hallie as if she were dirt. “The night at the theater.”

  He placed the smoldering needle into the bowl and stood, walking over to a large wooden crate. He shoved it aside and then spun around, the anger on his gray face so intense that it bordered on madness. “They chased me . . . made me run. I had to hide, like a coward . . . in a dark trunk.”

  He pushed and pulled at something, dragging it across the room. He moved out of the shadows, and Hallie saw what he had. It was a smoke-blackened coffin.

  “But I’ve been watching, and waiting.” He bent down, picked up the needle and he moved toward Hallie, grabbed her hair with one hand, pulled her up, and with the other waved the smoke in her face.

  Hallie held her breath, closing her eyes from the burning smoke. “Breathe it!” he screamed at her.

  Still she held her breath, though her lungs ached with the need for air. He jerked up so hard on her hair, Hallie gasped, and then the smoke filled her mouth, nose, and lungs. Long minutes passed and she could hear Dagny’s muffled crying, but she had no will left. She was dizzy and sick from the sweet smoke.

  He released her hair, and she fell onto the floor, unable to move her body. He reached under her arms and dragged her across the floor. Then he pushed her up against something and shoved her inside. It was cold and she shivered, but she couldn’t move her limbs.

  She willed her eyes to open, but her lids were like weights. Over and over she tried to open them, until finally they lifted, just as Abner slid the coffin lid closed.

  He pounded the nails and she tried to move, but she couldn’t. Oh, God, she thought, do something! Move! But she was numb. All she could feel was her thick blood, flowing around and around her. The air was warm, heavy, and it tasted of smoke. The wooden box shook with the madman’s hammering, but Hallie couldn’t move. She was so tired, so dizzy. She had no strength, and her eyelids drifted closed.

  Dagny struggled and fought at the bonds on her hands and feet. She tried to scoot forward but the rope tightened on her neck.

  “It won’t do any good to struggle. You can’t get away,” Abner said with eerie calm while he hammered the nails on the coffin lid.

  “You see what I’m doing, don’t you?” he asked her. “I’m the lion now, you know.”

  The man was mad! She wondered what he would do to her, and she remembered the last time. Her head spun and she thought she might throw up. She sucked air up her nose. She couldn’t be weak, not now, not when Hallie needed her.

  If Hallie were alive.

  Dagny didn’t know what that stuff was that Abner smoked, but she saw what it did to Hallie. She told herself it coul
dn’t be deadly or Abner wouldn’t have smoked it. Oh, God, she had to get away!

  “I’ll devour Kit Howland, the hunter,” Abner told her. “He made me hide. He made me look like a coward. I’m not, you know. My father was, but not me. I’m stronger. I’m not like him . . . no . . .” He shook his head. “I won, and I’ll keep winning. You’ll see. Everyone will see.”

  He shoved the table over to a cabinet in the wall. He opened the door and pushed the coffin through. “I’m going to hide your sister in a dark place. She’ll hide, like I had to.” He laughed again, and the sound crawled through her. He closed the door and turned back to her. “How long do you think she’ll stay alive, hmm? An hour? Two?”

  Smiling, he walked back toward her, but paused by the smoldering bowl. He picked it up and breathed the smoke again. “These are flowers, burning, sweet flowers. You want to try them? Here.” He moved toward her and waved the bowl under her nose. “See, it makes the pain go away.”

  Dagny tried to turn away.

  Abner laughed and set the dish down next to her on the table.

  “You’ll want it later,” he told her, then left the room.

  Dagny waited and listened. She could hear him sliding the coffin from the other side of the wall. She was searching for some way to get free when her eyes lit on the smoldering bowl. She hopped as far as the noose would let her and held her bound hands over the smoking ball, hoping it was still hot enough to burn the rope around her hands. She took a deep breath and laid the rope against the hot ball.

  It singed her skin but also burned the rope. After a few long, agonizing seconds, she pulled her hands free. She jerked the gag out and gulped air while working the noose open, then slipped it off her head. Bending, she untied the bonds around her ankles and tiptoed to the door.

  She listened closely and heard the soft snicker of horses outside. Something banged closed, and then she heard Abner’s footsteps. Quickly, she looked for something to hit him with, grabbed the hammer, then held her breath and waited. A few seconds later the wagon took off.