“You care, Aaron. There’s no shame in that. Do you hear?” Joseph held his cane out and moved toward Aaron as Julia and Sam stepped aside for him to pass.
Tears pooled in Hope’s eyes, seeing the torment that Aaron faced and witnessing the very sensitive way his family dealt with his struggle. His loss had been great. His pain had been unfathomable. She could be a friend, but as much as she felt herself being drawn to him, and sometimes even by him, she doubted that there would ever be a place in his heart for another.
When he climbed into the wagon from the dock, Hope made her way over to him, took his outstretched hand and stepped into the sturdy wagon. She hugged her parcel to her chest as a flourish of emotions washed over his face—pain, fear, anger, frustration and something else she couldn’t quite identify.
“Just don’t be hard on yourself about what happened here.” Joseph came to a stop at the edge of the platform. “You’ve been through a lot. I’m sure it’s natural to fear the same fate for those close to you.”
“I’m thrilled for you both. Really. It’s just that—” when a wagon clattered by, Aaron paused “—I’m sorry that I couldn’t just ignore my fears and be happy for you.” Releasing the brake, he gave the reins a gentle slap, guiding his team of horses through Boulder’s busy street.
They’d almost reached her farm when he finally spoke again. “I owe you an apology. I don’t know what came over me back there.”
Her chest tightened at the way he worked so hard to be strong and unaffected. “Remembering…facing your fears…grieving…that’s what came over you. And it’s perfectly all right.” She reached over and gave his hand a brief squeeze, feeling her heart slipping even closer to loving this man. “Really.”
He pulled his team into her yard and set the brake, his hand tingling from her touch, his blood churning at her nearness. He’d been pummeled by fear and sorrow just minutes ago, but in an instant, he’d been wholly distracted by Hope, her sweet presence and the look of affection in her eyes. She was so caring and thoughtful and understanding in the face of his struggle that sometimes he didn’t feel worthy of her warm companionship.
Swinging down to the ground, he crossed to Hope’s side. His jaw tensed as he met the almost timid look in her eyes. “Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable back there.”
“I didn’t feel uncomfortable.” She hugged her twine-bound package to her chest.
“I sure didn’t expect news like that,” he said, heaving a sigh.
“The baby?”
Nodding, he continued. “It near buried me six feet under. All I could do was clamor for something—anything—to set my world right again. I don’t know if I could endure what happened to Ellie and Jeremiah, again. All I want is some kind of assurance that everything’s going to be all right.”
“I wish I could give that to you.” Hope’s voice was a mere whisper. Her soft gaze warmed his cold heart.
When he lifted her down, his pulse pounded at her nearness. He could’ve drawn her into an embrace right then and there, if he’d let himself. But what would that mean for him? For her? His arms ached for Hope. Was his heart just as eager?
Glancing toward the fence line, he nodded at where the cattle nudged their way to front and center to gawk at Hope. “Looks like you have a welcoming committee.”
The way she smiled, first at him then over at the cattle in such an attentive considerate way coaxed a grin to his mouth. “They’re such beautiful creatures.”
“I suppose they’re cute, at times. But beautiful? You are beautiful.” The heartfelt compliment had slipped right out of his mouth.
Her face glistened with pure pleasure. That endearing look—that vulnerable, sweet, rewarding look—made him long to put that expression on her face again and again and again.
He grasped for solid ground, feeling himself losing his footing in good sense. “They must trust you. That’s for sure,” he said, struggling to shift his focus.
“I hope so. In fact, I’m sure that I could take most of the chores from you now.” She fingered the twine. “That way you can be at the shop more often now that Katie’s with child.”
“I don’t want you to feel any pressure or guilt for my time spent here, Hope. Do you hear?”
“But you want to ease Joseph’s load now since—”
“I do. And I wish that I could be both places all of the time, but I can’t,” he admitted as a low moo wafted their way. He spanned the farmyard, noting again how the animals seemed as if drawn to Hope, just as he was drawn.
“You care, Aaron. Like Joseph said, there’s no shame in that.” Raising her hand, she added, “And before you go deflecting his praise, you must remember that he’s honest. Just like you.” Her voice, like the rest of her, was cloaked in quiet strength. Her eyelashes fluttered down over her eyes, beckoning him in a way she was unaware. Peering up at him, her gaze grew earnest and tender and vulnerable, and so compelling that he couldn’t fight his attraction. “Your loss is very real, but I believe that if you’d ask God for peace, it would help. I know it did for me after the wolf attack.”
“I’ll try.” He stared deep into her eyes and raised a hand to trace the gentle slope of her hairline. “You have a way of getting to my heart. Do you know that?”
She shook her head. Swallowed.
Trailing his fingertips to her cheek, it seemed that the closer he was to her, the further he was from grief’s clutch. The seconds stretched before him, as if heralding a brand-new horizon.
“Honestly, Hope,” he ground out, his pulse ripping through his veins. “If you asked me to scale every single mountain in the Rocky range right now, I would.”
Whisper light, he slid his fingers to the base of her slender throat where her pulse raced beneath his fingertips, sending every one of his nerve endings humming to life.
He exhaled a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. As much as he’d tried to ignore his attraction to her, he couldn’t. Every waking and sleeping moment was filled with thoughts of Hope. Quaking in spite of himself, he took her package and laid it in the wagon. Grasped her slender hands in his. If he was ever going to move forward in his life, she was the one he wanted at his side, right? Hope.
She was nothing like he’d expected and everything he never thought he’d wanted, yet he was undeniably moved and affected by her nearness and the steady, uncompromising sparkle of her charm and gentle ways. Even minutes ago, when he’d found himself deep in the face of his greatest fear, he’d longed for her touch, the caring way she’d look at him and the comfort he found in her sweet voice. Had God dropped her into his life? Was she his very own golden lifeline out of grief and pain? When he’d let his guard down and enjoy her for the compelling, caring, beautiful woman she was, he’d felt more alive and free than he had in many, many months.
“There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t worry about you out here by yourself.” He smoothed his thumbs over the backs of her fingers, savoring the feel of her satiny skin and remembering how her hands had blistered raw in her resolute attempt to plow.
Her eyes glimmered in the late morning sun as she peered up at him, all innocent and genuine. “You don’t need to worry. I’m fine. Like I said, I’m almost certain I can do most of the chores by myself now.”
The very thought of not seeing her every day shadowed him like a menacing cloud. Besides, he’d made a promise to watch out for her, to hold on to Hope. “You’re not taking into consideration the fact that I want to be here.”
She studied him, her penetrating gaze seeping into his soul. “You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust God,” he admitted, as he shoved his gaze to the ground where her roly-poly kitten had appeared and was doing figure eights against the hem of her dress. “Another one of your admirers.”
She smiled softly and shifted her focus down to her kitten. “Hello, sweetie.”
“You do not lack for admirers, Hope.” He drew a step closer, his pulse pounding at
what the next few seconds held. And what it would mean for him. What it could mean to the vows he’d viciously clung to. “Somewhere along the line I’m going to have to find it in myself to trust God again with the lives of those I care about.” He swallowed hard, sliding his hungry gaze from her brilliant eyes, to her perfect little nose, to her full lips. “At least if I ever hope to know what it’s like to love again.”
Her gaze grew wide then. Her lips parted on a quiet sigh. Her breathing grew as shallow as his, the sweet smell of her breath fanning over him, stoking the dim embers in the core of his being.
He worked his hands up to her arms, his chest pounding, his ears whooshing with every single beat of his heart. His hands trembled as he moved them to her shoulders, then to her neckline, where tendrils of her silky hair whispered over his knuckles sending radiating bolts straight through to his feet, fastening his boots in place. Cradling her head in his hands, his heart swelled at the slow and innate way she yielded to his touch.
He was close enough to hear the unbridled beat of her heart and near enough to feel the way her body quivered at his touch. He ached with the desire to cherish her and make her feel every bit as alive as she made him feel.
Closing his eyes, he lowered his head. When he brushed his lips over hers, a shudder of satisfaction ricocheted through his body, knocking his world off-kilter. He settled his mouth over her velvety lips in a tender and solid claim, the sweet way she surrendered to him, shadowing nearly every bit of hesitation left in his soul.
He could barely breathe as he finally pulled his lips from hers. He could barely hold a coherent thought other than the fact that this kiss had rocked him deep, had awakened an innate part of his heart he’d ignored for nearly a year.
And it had undermined every single vow he’d made to Ellie.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” he ground out, squeezing his eyes shut and longing to fully give himself to this moment. He wrapped his arms around Hope and pulled her close. As his body molded so perfectly to hers, he knew that right here, right now, he felt nearly whole with her in his arms.
At the same time he attempted to coax the image of Ellie’s face into his mind. He’d loved her completely, but the memory of her fresh smile had been fading more and more every day. Had his vow been made complete at her passing?
And was there love enough for someone else in his heart?
He’d asked himself this question dozens of times over the past couple of weeks. He had labored over the future and what it held.
“It’s all right, Aaron.” She wriggled out of his embrace, turned and grabbed her parcel, hugging it tight. “I understand. It’s for the best.”
He studied her, wondering if his heart would ever catch up with his emotions. He searched for any hesitation in her gaze because just one word, one hint of longing and he’d abandon his doubt.
Remembering the promise he’d made to Paul, he had to wonder if Hope arriving here had all been some grand design, a God-turning-all-things-for-good kind of situation. He could inch his heart out from hiding, as he’d just done, but to commit himself fully… Until he knew for sure, he couldn’t let this happen again. It wouldn’t be fair to Hope.
“I’ve been thinking about that promise I made to Paul,” he breathed, still moved by the all-consuming impact of the kiss. That promise had been one of the best things he’d done over the last long and lonely months. It’d given him purpose and had thawed his stony-cold heart.
“Promise?” Her voice was barely a whisper as she grew all rigid and still.
“Remember, I promised that I’d take care of you.”
She edged out of his reach, her eyebrows pinched, her rosy lips turned down ever so slightly.
“I want to do that, but—”
“You don’t need to explain.” She raised her chin a notch. “Really and please don’t worry about that promise for another moment. I can take care of myself.”
When she backed away, each composed and quiet footstep echoed in his heart—a deafening reminder of the way he’d just trampled his vows.
Chapter Sixteen
For the past four hours since Hope had melted to Aaron’s touch and had carelessly indulged herself in his tender kiss, she’d been grappling for any thread of control she could find. His restrained emotions, the way his heart had hammered inside his chest and the cherishing way he’d held her had impacted her far more than she wanted to admit.
Grasping the edge of the stage, she vaguely listened as Ben made some last-minute rehearsal notes, with the play performance being only three nights away. She chided herself for being so vulnerable, so helplessly malleable to Aaron’s touch. She’d been hurt once by Jonas. How could she be so careless as to set herself up for the same with Aaron? He likely had no idea the strength of her attraction and affection. As much as she’d tried, she could not deny that she wanted to be cared for, nurtured, loved.
But finding those things with Aaron was impossible. If she had any hope of making a life for herself here in Boulder, she’d have to disregard her feelings for him. He had his vows to his wife to consider. And although nearly seven weeks had passed since he’d made his promise to Paul, he still felt compelled to watch out for Hope and take care of her based on that honor-bound obligatory vow.
Well, she couldn’t bear the idea of being some man’s obligation. No matter how noble he was, how upright, how well-intentioned.
She’d felt angry, hurt, guilty…and grateful.
Torn by so many emotions, she tucked her hands beneath her legs and stared down at her booted feet dangling from the edge of the stage. She was barely aware of the other cast members around her as images of Aaron plowing for many laborious hours slammed into her mind, bringing with it instant remorse. For seven weeks he’d arrived at the crack of dawn, working tirelessly and without complaint. She couldn’t have managed those first weeks without him, but in light of the deep distress he’d expressed for Katie’s condition, she wasn’t about to let him continue.
He had his carpentry job to do, and he had a wife to grieve. Hope couldn’t compete with that—nor did she want to.
The confusion that had crossed his expression when she’d backed out of his embrace had almost compelled her into his arms again. Instead, she’d turned and forced one foot in front of the other, into the house. She’d even refused his ride to play rehearsal and had driven herself this evening.
Lifting her gaze, she focused on the last-minute directions given by Callie and Ben, but it was nearly impossible with Aaron sitting less than ten feet from her. Despite her distress, the spine-tingling effects of his kiss still sizzled from her lips to the core of her stomach. She grazed her fingertips across her mouth, recalling the tender yet certain way he’d pressed his mouth to hers.
Never, in her two years of being engaged to Jonas, had she experienced that kind of earth-shaking feeling. Jonas had given her a chaste kiss on the top of her head every now and then—never when they were out in public. But her knees had certainly never threatened to buckle beneath her as they had under Aaron’s touch, his kiss.
He’d made her heart beat wildly. Something had happened in that moment—something beyond a simple kiss. She’d stripped herself of all doubt to believe…and to feel. And what she felt for Aaron was far more than just congenial. It was real, it was big and it was love.
But his sense of duty and his deep devotion to his first love had shadowed over any other desire, no matter how strong. He’d had a weak moment. He had just dealt with some very real fear. His emotions had been like particles of dust blown about in a storm. And she’d been a safe haven, a voice of compassion, and a friend.
When Callie and Ben dismissed the cast members just then, she avoided the gazes of those in the room and made her way out the door and into the gathering darkness. Unbidden, images of Jane hovering near Aaron all evening long, like a spider hoping to catch some prey in her well-spun web, crawled into her thoughts.
Jealous or not, Hope had no claim on Aaron
and never would, she conceded as she reached her wagon.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
She came to an abrupt halt at the familiar voice. Her breath caught as she peered through the pine boughs next to where she’d parked. “Jonas?”
He stepped out from a long shadow into dusk’s waning light, the usual picture of good taste in his fashionable jacket, cravat and winning smile. “Surprised to see me?”
“Shocked seems like a more appropriate term,” she uttered.
She gulped. She hugged her script and handbag to her chest in an effort to settle her jarred nerves. She’d not spoken with Jonas since she’d called off the engagement well over a year ago. He’d crossed her mind countless times, but she’d never allowed herself to dwell on him.
“What are you doing here?” She fingered the ivory brooch at the front of her scoopneck bodice.
“I couldn’t stay away.” His intense gaze met hers in a way that sent a sudden wave of shyness lapping at her composure. “It’s been so long. How are you, Hope?”
“H-how did you know I was here?” Glancing back to the town hall, she saw a few others filing out the door, but Aaron wasn’t among them. “What brings you all the way out to Colorado?”
He arched his dark eyebrows in that charming way of his that he’d use like some well-tuned instrument. “Like I said, I couldn’t stay away.” Draping a hand on the rim of her conveyance, he inched his admiring gaze from her toes to her head. “I spoke with your mother a few weeks ago, and she told me where you’d gone off to.”
She barely worked a swallow past the harsh lump in her throat. “She did?”
Her mother had all but disowned her when she’d broken off the engagement with Jonas. She’d wept repeatedly, begging for Hope to change her mind and crawl back to Jonas, asking his forgiveness for being so fickle. Hope was far from fickle. But with the financial stress her parents had been under, she’d refused to divulge the real reason she’d called off the engagement. It didn’t come as any surprise that her mother would try to finagle some sort of reunion.
Rocky Mountain Proposal Page 17
