by DiAnn Mills
“Would you like for me to ask the blessing?”
I nodded.
“Then I have many questions.”
“So do I.”
I listened to him thank God for keeping me safe and for leading him to me. When he asked God to bless the food and the hands that had prepared it, the reverence in his voice eased my scattered nerves. When he spoke the amen, our heads lifted at the same time, and our gazes met.
“Thank you,” I said. “Not just for your prayer, but for all the things you have done for me.”
“You’re an easy person to care for.”
My insides tingled. “Try the stew, and let me know if it needs anything.”
He did, and I believe he was pleased.
“This is very good.” He smiled and my insides did a flip. “When did you learn to cook?”
I tilted my head, enjoying every moment with him. “One of the mothers was appreciative of my teaching her son how to read, so when she asked what she could do for me, I suggested cooking lessons.”
“I thought you hated lamb—couldn’t stand the smell of it either.”
“It was that or starve,” I said. “And I learned to like it—as long as I can add herbs and vegetables to disguise the taste.”
He poked his fork into the stew. “I do wonder what Victoria might say.”
I didn’t want to think about her reaction to my cooking, the menu, or my lifestyle. “She’d whisk me off to a doctor, certain I was ill.” I looked down at my plate. “I’m not so sure I ever want to go back. Here, I’ve found meaning to my life.”
“Don’t you have two estates to manage?”
I’d considered that very dilemma. “Mr. Murdock handles my affairs nicely. Lately I’ve considered giving Victoria the house.”
He stared at me, as though attempting to read my thoughts. “I called Mr. Murdock this afternoon, and he plans to see her this evening.”
“Thank you. I thought about calling or writing him many times, but I was afraid he’d want to persuade me to leave.”
“I met him. He thinks of you as a daughter.”
I startled. “When was this?”
Tahoma proceeded to tell me about his trip to Syracuse and his vow to find me. Then he’d received the letter about the measles epidemic at the reservation.
“God is always a step ahead of us.” I wanted to say He’d made my dreams come true, but it was too soon to reveal my heart.
“I have much to tell you about many things,” he said. “But first tell me what made you choose here?”
I told him about the advertisement in the Albuquerque newspaper. “It was difficult at first, living here by myself. I shot a few rattlesnakes and learned to check everywhere for scorpions. Now I have a cat and a couple of chickens who enjoy the little creatures.”
“And here you are.” He grinned and picked up a corn cake. “What did your students say after I left?”
“Oh, they were full of questions. One asked if you had taken care of me when I was sick.”
“What did you say?”
I captured his dark brown gaze. “I told him yes, that you helped me through a terrible time in my life.”
The merriment in his eyes softened, and I saw what I’d experienced that night in the barn months before. “Thank you.”
“It’s true,” I whispered.
We stared into each other’s eyes, as though we were seeing each other for the first time.
“I missed you,” he said.
“I missed you. I’m very sorry for the way we parted. I’m—I’m sorry for trying to mold you into my world.”
“At first I thought I’d insulted you, and in a way I did.” He drew in a deep breath. “Later I realized I’d hurt you, and the feelings I wanted you to have for me were real. I was just too blind to see them.”
He reached across the table, pulled my hand to his lips, and kissed each finger. I wanted to melt into his arms, but propriety stood in the way. I dared not give into my heart or my body. But, oh, I wanted to.
“Where do we go from here?” he said.
“Walt Chambers is in prison.”
“He is.”
“At least one of the men involved in the killings has not been found. Someone who scares Walt Chambers enough to keep him quiet.” I withdrew my hand from his. “If you found me, then he will too.”
“What name are you using?”
“Penelope Adams, my mother’s first name and a last name I simply made up.”
He stood from the table and walked to the window. “You live in isolation. If something happened, those children would be the ones to find you. It looks like Juan Martinez was also involved, but he fled the ranch and hasn’t been seen since. I hope it’s finished.”
“You and I know better. Walt Chambers would not be afraid of Juan—he was a poor man who someone manipulated and paid off. Another man has to be involved.”
He sighed and I joined him at the window. His arm slipped around me, natural and comforting. “Are we no better than before?”
“We have each other.” I blurted out my thoughts without thinking.
“Ah, music to my ears.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t see a car or a horse. How do you get supplies?”
“Every three or four days, one of the elders from the reservation stops by, and I give him my list.”
“I’ll take over his job—daily. Maybe twice a day.”
“What about your patients?”
“I’ll squeeze them in. You are my priority.”
I smiled and leaned my head on his shoulder. Although I knew his medical practice should come before me, I still enjoyed hearing otherwise. “I can’t remember ever being so happy.”
His hand tightened around my waist. “Nor I. I’d like to think this is where we left off the night in the barn.”
“I have no objection to that.”
He turned me to face him, and I wanted him to kiss me. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Kiss me, Tahoma. I’ve thought of little else all these months.”
He did not fail me. When his lips finally released mine, I quivered like a fall leaf in the wind. To love a man this much had to be the reason I was born.
“We need to stop.” His voice was hoarse, and he stepped back. “I care too much for you to continue.”
“Yes, we must.” My weak voice gave away what my body craved.
“I’ll help you clean up. The work will keep my hands off you.” He chuckled, and I read the longing in his eyes.
Before coming to know God, I might have invited him to spend the night. But for God to bless our love, we must obey His Word.
And yet it was hard.
CHAPTER 45
Tahoma believed his attitude toward life and love and his medical practice and his people rose each time he saw Eva. Some days he hurried to the school before the children arrived just to deliver a hearty good morning and a kiss from his truck window.
Other days he cooked for her, or she cooked for him. During their alone hours, they kept the door to her home or his clinic open. He didn’t trust his own emotions, and from the look in her eyes, she didn’t trust either of them to remain pure.
But always her image stayed fixed in his mind…her hair as golden as the sun…her blue eyes a chip of the sky…her voice sweeter than a drop of honey.
A month after finding Eva, in the early hours of the morning, he made a decision. The last time he’d declared his heart, he’d been foolish and not mentioned his love. Tonight, when she came for dinner, he’d tell her of that love and ask her once more to spend the rest of her life with him.
Tahoma rose and stepped outside the clinic to view the host of twinkling stars against a midnight blue sky. One man, possibly two, were still out there. Had they given up on taking his Eva’s life? Could he protect her?
He blew out a heavy sigh. No, he could not protect her, but God could.
I watched Tahoma move about the small cooking area of his clinic. He fl
ittered like a child, making sure the table looked cheery, checking on the food—and it wasn’t lamb, but beef. He lit two candles, and the dim lighting that normally sufficed cast a romantic glow.
“You look magnificent tonight,” I said. “Is your shirt new? I don’t recall seeing it before, and the light blue suits you well.” I made my way to the cabinet where he kept the dishes. He seemed to be avoiding me. “How could I think you’d be happy in New York? I’m ashamed of ever thinking you might belong there.” I shrugged. “For that matter, I have no desire to return.”
He looked at me oddly, as though he didn’t believe my words. “I want to tell you what I was thinking the last morning we were together.”
I stared into his beloved face and studied him.
“No need to frown, pretty lady.” He planted a light kiss on my lips, and I tasted peppermint.
“I’d like to hear, really,” I said. “I was scared and confused about us and the night before.”
“The miscommunication was my fault.” He faced her. “I was afraid of my feelings for you. I sensed no future—just two broken hearts.”
“Especially after what happened to you in Chicago.”
“Yes, that too. But mostly my pride got in the way, a fear of rejection.” He traced a finger alongside my cheek, and I closed my eyes. How I loved this man. I ached to tell him. “What I realized was the most important aspect of the whole tragedy was keeping you safe.”
“But I don’t understand the marriage proposal in name only.”
Our gazes locked. “I didn’t think I’d ever be good enough for you, and a marriage in name only would take care of two things, keep you safe and have you as my wife.”
My confusion must have registered on my face, for he drew me to him, and I welcomed his strong arms. “My dream was for you to be my wife. We could have hidden in a remote area, and your reputation would never have been tarnished. My plan meant once the killers had been found, we’d divorce quietly, and you could go back to your way of life. I would never have expected you to consummate the marriage.”
I started to tell him all I ever wanted was to carry his name and someday bear his children. “Tahoma. If only I’d known that you loved me. Instead I stomped away.”
“But I didn’t come after you. I was too torn to be logical, too stubborn.”
I snuggled against his chest. “Thank you for telling me.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Are you hungry?”
Actually, I wanted to stay forever right where I was. “I suppose.”
He chuckled. “Take the plates and silverware to the table, and I’ll bring the roast and vegetables.”
“You shouldn’t have gone to this much trouble.” I saw a coffeepot sitting on the wood-burning stove. “Do I smell real coffee?”
“You do. It’s brewing.”
I gasped. “That had to have cost you a fortune.”
He reached into the cupboard above my head and pulled out two cups. “I wanted this night to be special.” He placed a small pitcher of sugar and cream on the table.
“How very nice of you. I wish I knew what I’d done right.”
“Oh, lots of things.” He whirled around to pull the beef and vegetables from the oven along with a pan of bread.
“Cornbread too?”
“And honey.” He set the food on the table and seemed so pleased.
I shook my head at him as though he were a naughty boy then I laughed. “I remember when my preference was caviar. My, how I’ve changed.”
“I think we both have.”
I caught his smile, and my heart did its usual flip. I could never grow tired of looking at him…dark eyes, high cheekbones, skin the color of high desert rock, and hair as black as a raven’s feathers.
We sat at the small table as we always did, and Tahoma asked God to bless our food and our evening together. The door to his clinic stood wide open, and a mangy dog approached.
Tahoma tossed his napkin onto the table and chased it away. I wanted to giggle, but I held my laughter in check. Like him, I wished we didn’t need to keep the door open. Yet it was essential.
He seated himself and filled my plate. “There you are. I hope it’s to your liking.”
I took a forkful and tasted it. The meat seemed to melt in my mouth. “My compliments to the chef.”
We teased and bantered back and forth during the meal, picking up our usual camaraderie.
“The coffee should be done,” he said. “Are you ready for a cup?”
I held mine up and he filled it. Little bubbles formed on the top, and that meant it would be deliciously fresh. “This is a real treat.”
He gestured to the cream and sugar. I poured just a scant bit of cream into my coffee and then reached for the sugar. I blinked. Something sparkled inside the sugar bowl. What was it? My gaze flew to his, and I saw a spark of merriment.
Did I dare believe—? “Is this what I think it is?”
He leaned closer to me. “I’m not sure. Maybe you should investigate. Explore the sugar.”
My fingers trembled so badly that I couldn’t stir them through the sugar to find…to find. At last my fingers grasped the gold band with a stunning diamond.
I held my breath, not knowing whether to cry or scream or laugh or do all three.
Tahoma scooted back from the table and bent to one knee in front of me. He took my hands, my poor trembling hands.
“I love you, Eva Fortier.” His voice was clear and strong. My dear warrior. “I haven’t a thing to give you but my heart and my love, but is that enough for you to be my wife?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “I love you so much, and I do want to be your wife.”
He smiled, a smile that made me want to dissolve into a puddle before him. Taking the ring from me, he placed it on my left hand. “We have much of life to live, and I believe we can do it together.”
I nodded, for the tears were starting to flow.
He took my face into his hands and drank deeply of the kiss I offered. Time’s pendulum ceased to swing while the joy of his lips upon mine flowed to the end of my toes.
“When?” I said when the kiss was finally done. “When can I be your wife?”
He kissed me again. “I think it had best be soon, for neither of us can stand being apart much longer.”
I laughed and stared down at my ring, a lavish piece of gold. “This is beautiful. However—”
His finger touched my lips. “I’ve had the money for years, not sure how to use it.”
“But for me?”
“For us.”
He didn’t need to say more, for I was his and he was mine.
CHAPTER 46
Tahoma took a quick look at the clock on his medicine cabinet. Eva had agreed to be his wife fifteen minutes ago, and they had much to discuss. But not now. He was happy to sit next to her and dream about the future. Never had he been this content.
“I’d like to climb to the top of the highest mountain and tell the world that I’m going to be Mrs. Tahoma Benally.” She snuggled next to him. “Ayor anosh’ni.”
“I love you too. How beautiful to hear those words from your lips.”
“Our children will know both languages.”
He planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Our announcement will not be much of a surprise to anyone on the reservation. We’ve been quite the talk.”
Shock registered on her angelic face. “But we’ve been so careful.”
He pointed to the open door. “Dead giveaway, my love. Even the dog knows the two people inside are in love.”
“The children too. They tease me about you constantly.”
“Are you going to break a young boy’s heart?”
“Maybe.” She stiffened.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was thinking I’d like to tell Mr. Murdock about us, but I’m afraid he might be in bed.”
Tahoma rose from the small couch that Eva referred to as a davenport and walked to the phone on his d
esk. “After the talk he and I had in Syracuse, I don’t think he’d care about the time.”
“What did you discuss?”
“You. You and me. And my feelings for you.”
She joined him by the phone. “I wish I’d been there. Anyway, he’ll want to know when. And so do I.”
“Are you going to be an insatiable bride?”
Her eyes widened. “Tahoma!” She tilted her head in such an endearing manner that he couldn’t resist another kiss. “You’re right. I’ve been thinking about us for so long. I’m afraid I will have difficultly letting you out of my sight.”
“Shame on you.”
“Shame it is. So when can we get married?”
“Before school resumes again?”
She wiggled her shoulders. “Perfect. Now where?”
Tahoma walked to the open door. “I’m concerned about the killers, Eva.” The weight of his protectiveness pressed on him. Those who wanted her dead were still out there.
“I don’t need anything grand. Just you and a pastor and—”
He swung around and took her hand. “Mr. Murdock and Victoria.”
“Yes, and…”
He touched the tip of her nose. “Best tell me. What are you thinking?”
“Could we marry at Ghost Ranch where it all began for us?”
Tahoma considered her request. How could he keep her safe with the knowledge that another of the men working for Charlotte could be an accomplice to the killings? “We’d need to hire several guards.”
“I understand. And no one here needs to know my name, so when we return, we’ll be safe.”
“Do you really want to come back to the reservation?”
She nodded. “You know how I treasure my hours with the children, and I know your dedication to medicine.”
He kissed her again. God had blessed him. Then another thought occurred to him, and he frowned. “If the killer learns we’re married, he’ll be able to track us down.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe he’s ended his search for me.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think he’s given up.”
