by Deanna Chase
“Hn.” In Benton-speak that meant he thought it was a fine idea, she was right that the weather couldn’t be more perfect for early fall, and he really liked the feel of her hands on him, maybe she could do it again?
Or he could have been just clearing his throat – either one.
Affection surged through her as she followed him to the little clearing beside his cabin, pushing the lustful thoughts aside. Lust was a newcomer in her relationship with Benton, but the affection had existed from nearly the beginning. In those early days, when she’d developed tender feelings for the scarred, solitary man, the realization had been unexpected and not welcome. Now, those feelings were the center of her existence, the touchstone her life revolved around.
As she set out their picnic lunch, Benton began loading wood he had already chopped into a bin. Well, that explained the sweat and the shirtlessness when he’d found her. “Getting an early start this year?” Nissa asked.
“More merchants,” came his reply, scorn a thick overlay over his words.
“Which means?”
“It means I have to deal with useless lumps who can’t heat their homes or feed their families without me.”
“Benton,” she said, the scold strong in her voice. “Most of us couldn’t survive being alone in the middle of the wilderness. I wouldn’t survive a day if I was all alone, so do you think less of me?”
“You never have to worry.”
She paused in cutting the bread. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”
He didn’t look at her. She could almost believe he was deliberately not facing her way. “I’d never let you be alone.”
Emotion surged inside her that went past affection, past lust. Benton didn’t need eloquence, not when the words he uttered speared through the dark places and lit her from within. She cleared her throat to modulate a voice that otherwise would tremble with emotion. “That’s good to know. But my point is, it’s been very good for the village, growing like we have. There’s even talk of building a school. I won’t believe it until I actually see it, but it would be a dream to be able to teach somewhere other than McGrudy’s barn and not have to worry about stray farm animals trampling over any lesson books or staying in the section where the roof doesn’t leak on rainy days.”
He stopped loading wood to look straight at her. He had ice-blue eyes, so pale that in some lights they almost appeared colorless. She had heard them referred at various times as “unholy,” - “demonic,” - or even “scary as shit,” - but when he looked at her with the full force of his gaze, all it engendered in her was a desire to whimper and bare her throat in submission. “You want to teach boys like the two from today?”
“I want to teach boys and girls, and all boys are idiots at that age.”
From the way his jaw tightened, Nissa would bet her best dress he was grinding his teeth. “Any others upsetting you?”
Oh no. Overprotective Benton spread a warm glow through her body, but she could not let him go on a terrorizing spree against the teenage boys of the village. Though the fathers of the teenage girls would be supportive, Nissa might find herself out of a teaching job if her students were afraid to be around her. “I can deal with my kids. Part of growing up is testing boundaries, and boys can be a little aggressive during that time. It’s nothing unusual or worth getting upset over. Weren’t you?”
“Couldn’t be.”
With those words Benton’s voice went beyond flat to almost lifeless. There was a story not being told. Nissa prodded. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, going back to the wood pile. “I get aggressive, bad things happen.”
Definitely a story, but not a good one, and not for today – not when they had a picnic spread out before them that she’d been looking forward to all week. Nissa finagled herself between him and the woodpile and gave a teasing smile up into his scarred, grim face. “I have brought absolutely delicious food for us to enjoy together, and I am not going to let you work anymore while I’m here. Go get cleaned up so we can eat.”
He looked down at her, and though his features didn’t change, his eyes brightened, the heavy burden he carried dissolving for the moment. “Will you read to me after?”
“Of course I will, though I’m still waiting to hear when you’re going to read to me like I’ve been asking you to do for months.” She placed her hands on his arms and stretched upwards, going on tip-toe to add a few inches of height. “Please Benton.”
Since she was the one who had taught him how to read, he couldn’t use illiteracy as an excuse, but he had come up with every other possible reason not to fulfill her request. For someone as straightforward as he was, it was almost impressive how cagey he became in his efforts to avoid the subject.
His eyes widened the barest fraction before he turned away. “You have a beautiful voice,” he said and, not waiting for a reply, walked to the little lake behind his house.
Nissa was as rooted to the earth as the great maple trees behind her. Benton had never complimented her in such a direct manner, and she had no idea he liked her voice. There was nothing special about it. It wasn’t too squeaky or too growly, and when she sang cats didn’t join in, but those weren’t exactly qualities to brag about. Yet, he called it beautiful.
Her cheeks were so warm she used her cool palms to lessen the heat, and only when her hands touched the enflamed skin did she realize she was smiling. Enough of that, Nissa. You are not a schoolgirl.
Yet she couldn’t force the smile from her face the rest of the day.
And now the day was ending as it often did, with them sitting against a thick oak a few feet away from the lake’s edge while Nissa read. Today’s selection was love sonnets at Benton’s request, the eloquent, sometimes naughty verses stoking Nissa’s longing for the man whose head now lay in her lap.
One hand held the book while the other stroked his thick, dark hair. As she finished reading the last sonnet, she closed the book but couldn’t quite bring herself to stop this allowable touch. “Benton?”
He looked up at her, and for one unguarded moment his eyes shone from within with a fierce, hungry light. A shiver – part warning, part longing – snaked over her skin and left raw, exposed nerves in its wake. “Benton?”
With lightning movements, he turned and rose to his feet, careful to keep both his gaze and his body away from her. “Sorry.”
Her first instinct was to ask him what he was sorry for, but she caught those words behind her teeth, forbidding them to escape. Benton had been acting strange for the last two months, alternating between uncomfortable intensity and an even deeper anti-social streak than what she’d experienced from him even in those first days of their acquaintance. Instincts warned her that finding out why would change everything, and while part of her yearned for some form of change, experience shouted change hurt, and what she desired wasn’t guaranteed. She was no Pandora. She’d hold off opening that box a little longer.
Nissa stood. “I should be getting back. I told Joseph I would work at the tavern tonight.”
Benton frowned, finally looking at her again. “It’s rowdy.”
“Sometimes,” she agreed, keeping her face and tone light and agreeable. “I know you worry about me, but I owe Joseph and Marie more than I could ever repay, and with Marie only six weeks away from delivering the baby Joseph needs my help. Which reminds me, he needs you to start stockpiling his woodshed for winter. Will you start tomorrow?”
“Tell him this season is free if he stops relying on you.”
Her hands came to her hips then, and light and agreeable were abandoned in favor of determined and don’t even try that. “I will do no such thing. I am helping Joseph, and you are going to be paid for the hard work you do. And you don’t even want to know the consequences if you try to talk to Joseph behind my back.”
He held up his hands as if in agreement, but his jaw hadn’t relaxed, which meant Nissa would have to have her own talk with Joseph to not let Benton intimidate him.
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Stubborn man – can’t talk sense into him, and can’t kiss him senseless.
“I’m going in with you.” Nissa’s eyes narrowed the moment the words passed his lips, and Benton could almost see her mind rewind to their earlier conversation.
They stood outside the tavern Nissa had been working evenings at for the last few months. As soon as Marie had announced her pregnancy, Nissa had banded with Marie’s husband Joseph in waging a campaign where Marie would work no more than the average toddler. Marie had been Nissa’s first friend when she arrived at the village over three years ago, and there was nothing Nissa would not do for the diminutive tavern keeper.
A year ago it would have been a non-issue, but over these last months the village had become popular, both as a destination on its own and as a traveling stopover. This brought money into the town, and wherever money landed, trouble followed. Bandits and pickpockets were becoming common, and a lone woman working the only tavern in the area would be easy pickings.
Nissa clucked her tongue at him, a sure sign of her annoyance. “You are only going in if you are ordering a pint.”
“You know I don’t drink.”
Her lips tightened in a small grin that told him she thought she had just won this argument. “That’s why you are not going in.”
Further words on his part were left unspoken when Nissa looked past him, smiled wider, and called out “Marco!” She waved to the young man sweeping outside the tavern, and then turned her gaze back to Benton. “There, no more worries. Marco is here.”
And that fact did not make the situation better. Marco was a young man angry at the world and at a crossroads in his life. Nissa only saw him as the sweet orphan boy she taught to read and count, and those blinders kept her from seeing the avarice on his face when confronted by money or the hatred when the village’s “sterling” citizens shunned Marco over his lack of family or connections.
Young men in Marco’s situation were easily swayed to the seedy side of life. Benton could see Marco becoming an accomplice to a gang, perhaps clearing the way for them to get money or valuables from the tavern.
No, the fact Marco was there did not ease Benton’s mind in the least.
Nissa would be protected, her own stubbornness be damned. He would talk to Joseph. No matter the incentive or the threat he had to use, at the end of the conversation Nissa would not be working at the tavern anymore.
She reached up and placed her hand on his scarred cheek, the only human being who ever voluntarily touched his scars. “I’m going to be with Madam Pierce tomorrow to finalize this year’s curriculum, but I’ll visit the day after next. Does that suit?”
He nodded, but he knew she was coming over tomorrow. She’d be pounding at his door right after Joseph told her she couldn’t work at the tavern anymore.
Benton was a sick, sick man, because the image of an angry Nissa made his temperature soar in a way that had nothing to do with the mild warmth of the day.
Without Nissa, he had no need to slow his pace, so the trip back to his cabin was quick and uneventful. It was growing close to twilight, the time where the sun still shone and the air still held warmth, but both were fading fast. He shrugged out of his clothes and waded into the lake to take advantage of these last few moments. Winter was not long away, and this would soon be impossible to do until next year.
The water soothed and relaxed him in a way nothing other than Nissa could.
Nissa. She would be an amazing sight, naked and glistening in the lake water, her playful smile taking on a seductive cast as she splashed water at him before she jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. There would be no place on her body wetter than the damp heat she’d push against him, grinding into him, making him hard for her…
Benton groaned before he pulled himself tight and dove deep into the lake, where the water was only steps above freezing.
Only when his lungs were fit to burst and threatened to start breathing again – air availability be damned – did he surge to the surface with strong, sure strokes.
“Yoo-hoo!”
Shock cut through him, making him pause as he pushed his hair back from his face as his gaze took in the surrounding area in quick sweeps. What in the nine hells was that?
“I’m up here, dear.”
His eyes went up to the trees. Sitting amid the branches of Nissa’s oak was an old woman, cherub-cheeked and gray hair, smiling beatifically at him. “So tell me, dear, did the cold water help?”
Chapter Two
Benton searched the area again to spot her partner. An old lady couldn’t possibly get into that tree by herself, and once he found whoever was helping her, he might get a better idea what they were after.
“Come, come, I don’t have all day. Get out of the lake before you prune away.”
He looked back to the woman, but she was no longer in the tree and instead stood at the edge of the lake.
“You shouldn’t be so suspicious. You’re really too young to be so serious. I’m here with glad tidings and to talk about Nissa.”
Before the name fully left her lips, Benton swept through the water with powerful strokes. Without concern for his nudity, he emerged from the lake as soon as he hit shore.
While the woman didn’t stare, she also did not turn away and fake any modesty. “I had a feeling that name would put some fire into you.”
Old woman or not, he would do what he had to for Nissa. “What’s your concern with her?”
The old woman giggled and patted his arm. “If I were anyone else, that voice alone would have frightened me enough that I’d be looking to change my knickers. Now, let’s talk. What is your greatest wish? Oh, and put some pants on, dear. While I do enjoy the show, since you’re spoken for I think you should be a bit more modest.” That last sentence didn’t prevent her from taking one last, lingering look, and Benton couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard the word “Impressive,” muttered before she turned away.
He put on his pants while she hummed to herself, looking around the outside of his cabin, peeking in the windows and giving exclamations such as, “Very nice,” and “This must have taken a lot of work.” She was a crazy old woman who must be lost. Maybe she was new in town? What was he supposed to do about her?
Nissa would know. After he dressed he’d take her to the tavern.
“You were just thinking of Nissa again, weren’t you? I always recognize the face of a young man thinking of his lady. It’s a specialty of mine.”
He was on alert again, and she went from adorable old lady to possible threat. “How do you know Nissa?”
She waved away his concerns, her eyebrows furrowing. “Honestly, there might be such a thing as too one-track minded. I am here to help you know.” Before she finished the sentence, her eyebrows shot up and her mouth popped open while her hand went to rest above her heart. “Dear me, I forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I? It’s been so long since I was in the field that I seem to be making rookie mistakes.”
With a determined stride she walked to him, putting her hand out. “I’m Godmother Sara, leader of the FGs and your own personal Fairy Godmother. I’m here to grant your wish.”
He took her fragile hand, his fingers barely flexing around hers before he let go. “A fairy godmother?”
“Yes, yes, I know you don’t believe me. That will change soon enough. Onto your wish. Your wish is for Nissa to love you, am I right?”
He breathed out the last of his tension. She was delusional, an old woman new in town who probably knew Nissa, and if she knew Nissa, then no wonder she’d seen him. In her addled, fairy tale ridden mind, she’d decided he fit the role of beast to Nissa’s princess.
Crazy but harmless, and a lot more fun to talk to than most people. She had a warmth and kindness that emanated from every inch of her body, but also forthright and a plain-spoken nature that appealed to him. He’d play this game for a little while before he took her to the tavern and was left to his own company again. “W
hat if it was?”
“Well, I couldn’t help you with that.” Sara placed one hand on her hip and shook her finger at him. “Can’t force love, you know. Love must be discovered and owned on its own.”
“Then why come here to grant a wish you can’t grant?”
She clapped her hands in front of her the way a teacher getting a student’s attention might. “You are so literal. Maybe I can’t grant love, but I can make the circumstances such that love is encouraged to develop. If love is the plant, look at me as the gardener, the one who makes sure the surroundings are perfect for it to root itself and blossom forth.”
Benton sat on a tree stump so she no longer needed to look up at him. “How are you going to do that?”
She smiled again, the warmth of it suited to her face. “Let me turn that question back on you. What do you think needs to happen for love to develop?”
The answer burst forth without thought. “No more beast.”
Sara frowned at him. “I know she’s plain, but really, should you be calling her a beast?”
Her words shocked a bark of laughter out of him, but he clarified. “Not Nissa.”
Sara tilted her head, the smile disappearing from her lips but her eyes warmer than ever. “Are you telling me you don’t want her to change?”
He shook his head. “Never. I want to change.”
“What about what Nissa wants?”
His hand reached up and touched his scarred cheek before thought could kick in and warn him not to give away information. He dropped his hand. “Why wouldn’t she want that?”
“Have you ever asked?”
He shook his head, looking over to Nissa’s tree, where she had taught him to read and where he could still curl up in her warmth and listen to her stories. “No need.”
Sara huffed. “In case you ever have any doubt, let me reassure you right now that you are very much a man. As adorable and oblivious as any I’ve ever met.”
He didn’t ask what she meant. No need for that either. Sara was in her own world, talking to herself, her brows furrowing and relaxing as she considered and discarded thoughts. At the end she brought herself up, squaring her shoulders. “I know what to do. Are you ready?”
