Apathy and Vigor

by Faye Hall

  “Have you told Amalie any of this, or is she just goods to be auctioned to the highest bidder?”

  Jacob didn’t look amused by that remark, nor had Tristen expected him to be. Still, it was how Tristen felt. He didn’t like the idea of the woman he had been sharing time with being bartered off to save a property.

  “I hardly think you’re in any position to be passing judgment,” Jacob chastised him. “After all, you’re engaged to be wed, yet you’ve just finished telling me that you’ve been busy warming the bed of another woman.”

  “Touché,” Tristen uttered, knowing what his friend said was right.

  Walking over to the water pump, Tristen started to operate it until the water began to flow. He leaned down and placed his head under the cold liquid, the heat in his head instantly vanishing. Lifting his head, he shook the water from his hair.

  “Are you and your parents still coming to my father’s gathering tonight?” Jacob asked.

  Tristen turned to him. “Of course we’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Jacob walked over to the water pump. Operating the device, he also placed his head under the flowing, cool liquid. When he lifted his head, he turned to Tristen. “I shall see you there then,” he muttered before walking over to his horse. “Maybe you could bother yourself to introduce me to this young lady you seem so smitten with.”

  Tristen watched him go. There was so much his friend didn’t know. So much he couldn’t know. If Jacob were to learn the truth about the woman Tristen was meeting with in secret, then their friendship as he knew it would change forever. That was something he didn’t want. Jacob was his best friend in the entire world...aside from Amalie.

  Rushing to the house, he went to his room to wash and make himself more presentable. He couldn’t go meet Amalie smelling like a cattle yard. Rinsing the soap from his body, he reached for a towel and patted himself dry. As he fastened his jeans, he could feel his eagerness growing. He had been looking forward to meeting with Amalie since he’d left her bed yesterday.

  Reaching for his shirt, he thought back on Jacob’s words to him as he’d left. Smitten. Tristen was and he knew it. He could think of little else other than the beauty that was waiting for him at the deserted stone mansion on the edge of town that had belonged to his family since they settled in the area. It was her idea to meet there, fearful that her brother might find them together otherwise. Tristen agreed immediately, so desperate to continue meeting with her that he would have gone along with any suggestion she made.

  Finally looking more presentable for his rendezvous, he hurried to the stables and his waiting horse. Quickly pulling himself up into the saddle, he turned the animal in the direction of the stone mansion. He didn’t try to hide what he was doing. He knew no one would question him going there, despite the common knowledge that the place was deserted. It was his responsibility to go there every couple of days, or at least to the paddocks surrounding the house, to check on the cattle his father still kept there. The last few months though, he saw very little of the cattle, his attention instead being drawn to the lustrous woman he met there.

  To be honest, the meeting place wasn’t what he wanted; he thought Amalie deserved a place so much more grander to be made love to in. Still, it was all he had to offer her at the moment, at least until he could free himself of his engagement and hopefully convince his father that a marriage to Amalie would be much more welcomed.

  Upon arriving at the mansion, Tristen immediately saw the ribbon tied around a branch of the yellow tea tree at the front of the house and he knew Amalie was already waiting for him inside. He dismounted from his horse and threw the reins over the railing before stepping up to the already open front door. Stalling for a moment, he let out a shaky sigh. He wanted this to be the night he asked Amalie to marry him, but before that could happen, he would have to tell her about Amanda. Stepping into the house, his gaze going to the auburn-haired beauty standing in the dim lamp light, he knew he would have to handle this evening with care. Should Amalie turn away from him, it would break his heart.

  Chapter 2

  Amalie Fergus crept from the house, desperate not to be seen.

  “You have a visitor, daughter,” she heard her father calling in a raised voice. “Bastian Tanner is here to see you.”

  Hearing that name made her skin crawl. She had seen his carriage arrive and knew she would have to make herself absent as quickly as possible before he found her. Of all the gentleman callers she had, she despised Bastian the most.

  By some people’s opinion, he was a handsome man. His blond hair was well-kept and collar-length. He was average height and build, not surprising considering he had never lifted a finger to work in his life. His attire was always very neat, and looked far more expensive than he could surely afford. Then there were his eyes—light blue pools that made some women weak at the knees. Amalie definitely wasn’t one of those women. She didn’t know what it was, but when he looked at her, his cold eyes showed little, if any, expression. There was something not right about him, and certainly not how he constantly kept lurking around her home, persistently demanding to seek an audience with her.

  She had tried to tell her father that Bastian’s attentions were unwelcomed, but he always brushed off her concerns as those of a frigid, young woman who was yet to learn the experiences of a marital relationship. Squeezing the note in her hand, she knew just how wrong her father’s assumptions were.

  The note from Tristen had arrived that morning just after breakfast, requesting a meeting with her after midday at their usual place. She’d counted the hours ever since, until finally she could wait no more. Bathing and dressing in jeans and a plain cotton shirt, she prepared to go meet with her lover. That was when she heard the Tanner carriage arrive. Even if she hadn’t arranged plans for the afternoon, she still would have snuck from the house.

  “Amalie!” she heard her father yell. “Where the hell are you?”

  If her father were to find her now, dressed as she was, there would be hell to pay. How could she explain to him where she was going and who she was going to meet? Stepping out the back door of the house, she ran toward the stable and the horse she’d had readied for her. She was just about to swing up into the saddle when her brother came to a stop beside her, his jeans and cotton shirt filthy.

  “Where are you going?” Jacob asked.

  She swung into the saddle, knowing she had to direct the conversation toward where he had been since breakfast instead of where she was about to go. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “Father has been looking for you, and I’ve had to cover for you for hours.”

  “Tristen asked me to stay and help him stack some bales so he could go to some meeting this afternoon.”

  She raised her brow. “You do far too much for him. Especially when Father needs help running our own station.”

  “He’s my friend, and he needed my help. Besides, he assured me he would pay me for my time.”

  “I bet he did.”

  “He asked after you,” Jacob continued. “Even enquired about the suitors that have come calling on you. He seemed very interested in you.” He eyed her carefully. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he has kept our friendship all these years just so he could get close to you.”

  She laughed, though she couldn’t feel humored by her brother’s remark. If he were to ever learn the reason for Tristen’s apparent interest, he would certainly not approve. “I’m sure you’re overreacting. I doubt he’s barely had time to notice me, what with so many of the ladies of the town begging for his attention.”

  “He said something similar about the men desperate to court you, sister,” Jacob goaded, his brow raised. “Which begs me to ask where are you sneaking off to? More to the point, who are you sneaking off to meet dressed like that?”

  She avoided looking at him directly. She hated lying to her brother, but she didn’t know how to tell him about her growing relationship with Tristen. In truth, other
than sharing a bed with him, Amalie didn’t know what else she could confess to.

  “I can’t be here right now. Bastian Tanner’s carriage just pulled up,” she explained. “It is a visit I really couldn’t stomach today.”

  “You could just tell the chap you’re not interested, instead of constantly avoiding him.”

  She shook her head. “I already tried that, but he keeps coming back. He just won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Have you spoken to Father about it?” Jacob asked.

  “I tried to tell him Bastian’s attentions weren’t welcomed or normal, but he wouldn’t listen. He told me I was just inexperienced in the ways of courtship.”

  Jacob eyed her. “And are you?”

  His question made her nervous. “Father is in the house waiting for you. He needs help mending the fences in the east paddock,” she said quickly before kicking her horse in the flanks and riding off.

  As she rode in the direction of the old, deserted stone mansion on the Brone family’s original estate, she felt guilty hiding her activities from her brother. They had always been so close, and confided in each other about everything. Seeing the abandoned house just up ahead, she admitted that this was one secret she wasn’t sure she could ever tell Jacob.

  Dismounting from her horse, she threw the reins over the railing, then went to the yellow tea tree and tied a blue ribbon around one of the branches. She turned toward the house and walked up to the door. Pulling the key from the pocket of her jeans, she placed it in the worn, rusted keyhole and turned it. As the entrance opened, she stepped inside and, going to the table, lit the lamp she’d left there yesterday.

  The meetings in this place had been her idea, fearful what would happen should they be discovered together. She didn’t regret throwing herself at Tristen as shamelessly as she had the night of the autumn equinox party, but she did know the consequences of her actions should their affair ever be exposed. She couldn’t even confide in her brother about the relationship, fearing that if she did, he would remind her what was thought of such wanton behavior. Though her liaison with Tristen was unorthodox, she couldn’t have kept her distance from him any longer.

  Tristen and her brother had been friends for ten years. As a result, she saw him almost daily—helping out on the farm, or swimming in the waterhole. She and Tristen were friends of a kind themselves, often sharing funny stories about Jacob. She always thought Tristen to be a handsome man, but as their friendship grew, and they spent more and more time together, she found herself craving to share so much more with him than just an exchange of words and laughter.

  When she fell from the top of the mango tree last year during picking season, it was Tristen who caught her, his arms holding her close against him. Her arms going around his neck, she thanked him for saving her life. He looked into her eyes and told her that he would always protect her.

  Sighing as the memories from that day washed over her, she couldn’t deny that his words to her then still melted her heart. Nor could she deny that as their affair continued, she craved to have so much more with this man than just to share a bed with him. She wanted to share a life.

  No sooner had she thought such a thing, the already open door behind her creaked slightly. Turning around, her gaze went to the image of Tristen standing in the doorway, a bunch of wild daisies in his hand.

  “I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” she muttered as she stepped toward him.

  He closed the distance between them, his arm outstretched as he handed her the flowers. “I was hoping you would stay until I arrived.”

  She lifted the daisies to her nose, her heart aflutter. “They are so very beautiful, Tristen.”

  “They are nothing compared to your own beauty,” he commented.

  Feeling heat drifting across her cheeks, she lowered her gaze and turned to place the flowers on the table near the lamp. “Jacob returned home just as I was leaving to meet you. He’s starting to suspect something. It won’t be long before he figures out what’s going on between us.”

  “I will tell him if you want me to,” he offered.

  “What would you tell him?” she asked, turning back around to face him.

  He stepped toward her, closing the distance between them, and his hand cupped her cheek. “I would tell him the truth. That he has the most beautiful sister in the entire state and that you are mine.”

  Her hands went to his shirt, pulling it from his jeans so her hands might slide underneath and caress his naked skin. “And you are mine,” she whispered, leaning into him. Her lips pressed against his, her tongue licking them, begging for entrance, as her fingers pulled at the fastening of his jeans.

  He pulled at her blouse until it fell free from the tight waistband of her jeans. His fingers went to the buttons, quickly undoing them and pushing the piece of fabric to the floor. Momentarily breaking their embrace and lifting her chemise over her head, it too landed on the floor, his hands coming up to cup her naked breasts, his thumb caressing her already swollen nipple. A slight shiver covered her skin, and she ached to have this man do more than just touch her.

  Walking her back toward the bed they had set up in the room earlier on in their affair, his hands fell from her breasts and went to the fastening of her jeans, pulling at it frantically. The fastenings of his trousers already loosened, she slid her hands inside to caress his rear, all the time pushing the fabric further and further down. When they finally reached the bed, they each stepped out of their remaining garments before falling on the soft mattress, their limbs entwined.

  She shifted beneath him, her legs spreading and inviting him to nestle between her thighs. When he did, she lifted her hips toward him suggestively, silently begging him to enter her. He slowly pushed inside her tight sheath, making her finally break their embrace as a gasp of pleasure was forced from her.

  Her hands went to his rear, guiding him deeper inside her as her legs spread more, welcoming him as he filled her. His movements quickened, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent, and her body tingled with pleasure. She could feel her release approaching as he thrust inside her again and again, his lips lowering to hers, swallowing her moans of pleasure as she felt her sheath pulsating around him, milking his seed from his now shuddering body.

  * * * *

  Tristen and Amalie lay together on the bed, their bodies spooned against each other, their fingers entwined. He wanted this night to never end. The feelings created in him by this woman were so raw. Not just from their sexual interaction either. He felt connected to her, almost like they were both halves of a whole.

  “I have to be going soon,” she uttered softly, lifting his hand to her lips and kissing it. “My family is expecting company tonight, and I’ve been told it’s my job to entertain them.”

  “Entertain how?” he asked, kissing her naked shoulder.

  “One of the families has a son, and my father thinks I would make him the perfect wife.”

  He shifted and, rolling her on her back, glared down at her. “You are not going to be another man’s wife,” he told her, hurt by the mere mention.

  She raised a curious brow at him. “You of all people must understand that I’m required to act the part and seem interested. In the eyes of my father, I’m a single woman that he can throw as many eligible suitors at as he wishes.”

  His lips pursed, the idea of Amalie playing on the attentions of another man making him feel irritated. “And if I tell you I don’t want you entertaining another man, then what?”

  She smiled, her brow raised as if challenging him. “Then you will have to explain to my father exactly why that is. Perhaps you could do that at the party tonight?”

  He couldn’t be sure if she was serious or just playing with him. Either way, he wanted her to know that their relationship meant so much more to him than just moments between bedsheets.

  “And what if I went to your father and did just that?”

  Her smile began to fade. “I’ve tried to mention yo
ur name to him several times, but always he has ignored any interest I may have in you as a suitor. The only way to make him listen to you would be to tell him we’ve been sleeping together for months. But if you do that, I fear the consequences that may follow.”

  They lay there, their stares joined. He knew what she was saying was right, but hated that it was so.

  She lifted her hand to his face, her fingers stroking his cheek. “If you really want to talk to my father tonight, I shall come with you. Maybe if we see him together, there is some hope he may listen to what we want.”

  He studied her, wondering exactly what she wanted. Wondering if she would welcome what he desired to share with her.

  “I need to get dressed and return home before Jacob or Father come looking for me,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.

  Knowing she was right, and that he too needed to get ready for tonight’s event, he moved off of her. Both of them leaving the bed, they began to dress.

  “What is the name of this man your father wants you to entertain tonight?” he asked, buttoning his jeans.

  “Carter Dix,” she replied, reaching for her blouse.

  Tristen held his emotions in check as he buttoned his shirt. He knew the man she spoke of. How could he not when he was his own fiancée’s brother? He also knew how well sought after Carter was by the eligible women of the town, both for his handsome appearance and his overflowing bank account. He was a catch for any woman with his short-cut, brown hair, green eyes, and average build, not to mention the lavish presents he was rumored to grace his bed partners with.

  Amalie stopped in front of him then, fully dressed, her hair pinned back up. Leaning into him, she kissed his lips. “You needn’t look so worried,” she said playfully, stepping back away from him. “Carter is sweet enough, but he’s nowhere near as handsome as you are.”

  She turned away from him and left the building. She had just reached for her horse’s reins and was about to pull herself up into the saddle when he caught up to her. Stopping behind her, he rested his hands on her hips, his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he thought of how to ask his question. Nervously, he cleared his throat.