Shades of Honor

by Wendy Lindstrom

  “I—” She clutched her throat and coughed. “I'm sorry,” she squawked, her voice ragged.

  “You're sorry?” He raked his hair back with an exasperated sigh. “Dammit, Evelyn, don't ever put yourself in danger like that again!”

  Her glance flew to his face. “Danger?”

  Their gazes locked and he gave a solemn nod.

  “What is wrong with you?” she asked.

  He shook his head, then with a miserable groan, he buried his face in his hands. “Things you don’t want to know.”

  That low, agonized confession pierced Evelyn’s heart. No one deserved the mental torment she had witnessed as he thrashed upon his mattress. “You...you won’t attack me if I stay, will you?” She perched indecisively on the edge of the bed, ready to bolt if he didn’t answer immediately.

  Radford sighed and lifted his head, his eyes dark, hurting. “No, Evelyn.” Slowly, he reached out and cupped her jaw, drawing his thumb across her cheek. “I would never intentionally hurt you. I’m sorry that I did.”

  Her skin came alive beneath Radford’s touch. His gentle caress and remorseful, searching gaze brought her compassion soaring to life. “Would it help to talk about it?”

  He shook his head and lowered his hand to the mattress. “I’m a good listener.”

  A melancholy smile touched his lips. “I’m sure you are.”

  “Do you have nightmares often?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted him to confide in her. Something told her the less she knew about Radford Grayson, the safer she’d be. And he certainly wasn’t dressed for conversation.

  “Not every night.” He held her gaze. “I shouldn’t disturb your sleep often.”

  “I wasn’t worried about my sleep. I...I’m worried about you.” Embarrassed by her bold words, Evelyn ducked her head, shielding her eyes behind the curtain of her hair. The mattress shifted and Radford leaned forward to brush her hair back. Surprised by his touch, she glanced up, her gaze tangling with his. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she said. “I don’t think you’re unsafe.”

  “You probably think I’m insane and I wouldn’t blame you.” He gave her a self-effacing smile. “Maybe I am.” He drew her hair behind her ear. With infinite tenderness, he touched the abused area of her throat, searching her eyes until Evelyn’s heart pounded and the air crackled with tense silence. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said.

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did,” he insisted softly. He drew her hair over her shoulder, letting it slip through his fingers and fall back to the inky pool at her hips. “You have nice hair.” Radford’s gaze floated over Evelyn and his expression grew troubled, as though a complete stranger suddenly appeared before him. “I hadn’t imagined you like this,” he said, his voice quiet, his eyes intense. “Not like this.”

  Embarrassed by the way his gaze lingered, Evelyn gathered her nightrail and pulled it away from her body, hoping to shield her nakedness beneath the thin calico fabric. “I...I’m not dressed.”

  “I’m aware of that,” he said quietly while his thumb glided slowly across her parted lips. Tilting her chin with a single finger, Radford’s dark eyes inspected her. “You'd better leave, Tomboy. I’m feeling dangerous after all.”

  Chapter Four

  As the first rays of dawn crept through the apple trees, Radford lifted his face to the warm caress of morning air and took a good look around his new home.

  The stone fence girding the front yard had surrendered to a thick tangle of morning glory vines. In several areas the rocks had given way and would need to be rebuilt. Radford eyed the house. A few new boards and a fresh coat of paint on the porch and balcony would save William’s house from appearing rundown. Though the barn was also losing paint and the livery sign dangled from one nail above crooked double doors, it was a solid structure needing minor repairs. The horse shelter in the paddock behind the barn was rotted beyond saving and would have to be replaced.

  It would be enough work to keep Radford busy, to keep his mind off his nightmares and the sweet sound of his father’s sawmill beckoning in the distance. For a while, the fecund smell of hay and horses would have to replace the scent of fresh-cut pine. He could live with that for now.

  With new resolve, Radford pushed open the livery door and came up short when he saw Evelyn wrestling with the oversized chain she had borrowed from Kyle. Radford intended to apologize to Evelyn for his behavior last night, but had no idea how to explain his appalling actions. It wasn’t only the nightmare that had unnerved him, he was used to waking up in that state of panic. It had been Evelyn’s presence. He couldn’t believe that the woman perched on the side of his bed in a thin nightrail with waves of gorgeous hair tumbling around her slim hips was really Evelyn.

  To think he’d be spending each day working beside her was distressing, but Radford comforted himself with the knowledge that he would be kept busy with customers. They would come from morning to late evening to stable their horses or have them shod, others would want to rent rigs and mounts. Inevitably, Radford and Evelyn would cross paths while doing their daily chores of grooming animals, cleaning stalls, oiling harnesses, and making repairs, but when their day ended, Radford would go help Kyle build his house. Radford might have to share the burden of livery work with Evelyn, but that’s all they would share, Radford vowed silently.

  He’d forget about last night and the feel of her hair slipping through his fingers and the heat of her body beneath his own when he’d pressed her into his mattress.

  “If you’re looking for something to do, I could use some help with this,” Evelyn said, whacking her hands against her britches. She sat on a stump of wood beside the iron-encased wooden wheel and stared at it with a defeated sigh. “I need to take this to the blacksmith, but I can’t get it off without lifting the axle.”

  Glad that Evelyn had provided an easy way to begin a conversation, Radford looked at the beam twelve feet over his head. “How did you get that chain over the rafter? You could barely get it to the wagon yesterday.”

  “I tied it to a rope and pulled it over. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough strength to pull the carriage off the ground, and I’ve already loosened the hub,” she said with disgust, giving the wheel a whack with her hand.

  The carriage shifted and the iron links grated as they slipped against the axle. “Look out!” he yelled, lunging forward to reach around Evelyn and steady the carriage. His chest brushed her back and he smelled soap and hay on her hair. “Put your stool under the axle,” Radford instructed, nodding toward an old hickory stump that Evelyn was sitting on.

  Reacting quickly, she rose up and wrestled the thick stump from beneath her, brushing her elbows, back, and bottom against Radford in all the wrong places. Torn between bolting from the livery or tightening his arms around her, Radford forced himself to concentrate on the chain, afraid it might slip further and cause the carriage to fall on the unsecured wheel.

  Evelyn pushed the thick block of wood beneath the axle, then turned to Radford, her face only inches away. “I’ll hold the block steady while you tighten the chain.”

  “No. You’ll get hurt if that axle pulls from the hub.” Radford gripped the chain and wondered if it was his hand or the metal beneath it that trembled. A long silky strand of hair had escaped Evelyn’s braid and dangled down her back reminding Radford of what it had looked like last night falling around her slender body like a cloak. “What time do the customers usually start coming?” Radford asked to distract himself while he adjusted the chain.

  “We haven’t had many lately.”

  The thought that Evelyn and William might be experiencing financial troubles because of William’s illness brought Radford back to his senses and he made a silent promise that he would turn this livery around before going back to the mill.

  “That should do it,” he said, securing the chain then backing up a step to let Evelyn squeeze from between him and the carriage wheel. “Business will pick up when I get the forg
e going. I’ll be able to shoe horses and maybe even fix this wheel band by tomorrow.”

  “You can fix that?” Evelyn asked, her eyes lighting up.

  To his distress, Radford found himself staring again. Evelyn was refreshingly transparent, unlike Olivia who’d been an emotional chameleon. The first time he’d seen Rebecca’s mother was at a theater in Boston where Radford had gone to escape the pain of his memories. Olivia’s ballet performance had swept him away so completely that it was the first time in years Radford’s mind had been quiet. After the show, he’d gone backstage to introduce himself to Olivia, and that began a fiery ten-month affair that ended when she walked away from Radford and their infant daughter. Olivia Jordon wanted her dancing career, not a husband and child.

  “It’s all right if you can’t fix the wheel,” Evelyn said, as though Radford’s lack of response was meant to be a negative answer.

  “It won’t be a problem,” he said, then stood up and grabbed the chain. “You’d better stand back.” Iron links rumbled over the beam as he pulled on the chain, gouging fragments of wood that floated down upon him and Evelyn. He pulled again and the carriage inched upward until the wheel was suspended four inches off the livery floor.

  “It must be nice to be so strong,” Evelyn said. “I could do three times as much work in a day if I had a pulley and half your strength.”

  Or three times as much destruction, Radford thought. Though his strength had kept him alive during the war, knowing how he’d used that power to survive was not something Radford wanted to remember.

  “Kyle lifts logs by hand just to prove he can,” Evelyn continued, oblivious to Radford’s unease. “He says it keeps him in shape.”

  Radford squatted beside the wheel and pulled the pin from the hub. “Kyle’s been strong since he was born. He doesn’t need to work at it.”

  “I know, but don’t tell him that. His head is fat enough.”

  Radford grinned despite himself. Maybe working with Evelyn wouldn’t be so bad after all. She was easy to read and she spoke her mind honestly. As long as she kept her fanny away from his groin, he might be able to keep his thoughts where they belonged.

  “You won’t tell Kyle what I said, will you?”

  Radford didn't respond right away, just studied Evelyn with curiosity that deepened to appreciation. Slowly he stood. “You have my word.” He reached out and picked a wood fragment off her shoulder. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  Her eyes widened, then she dropped her chin and took a step back. “I’ve already forgotten about it.”

  “Good,” he said. “I want to help you, not scare you to death, or make you think you’re working with a crazy man.”

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

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

  o0o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Occasionally.”

  “Well, he must have talked to you.”

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

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

  “Didn’t you talk to him at supper?”

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

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

  Kyle quirked a brow. “Why should it?”

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

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

  “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Until Kyle licked her lips.

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

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

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

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

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