by Jillian Hart
No, she decided. Hurt was too mild of a word for what she read on his face. Devastation. It crinkled in the corners of his eyes and hung on his shoulders. Then he shook his head, swallowed hard and it was gone.
“Don’t suppose you want to tell me what you’re doing with that satchel?” He paced toward her, moving slow and stiff as if he’d broken a rib. His voice rang hollow as his boots padded through the carpet of grass. “Maybe you are fixing to add it to the church’s donation barrel?”
“N-no.” The word was torn from her throat. “I thought Delia was coming.”
“I suppose it would be a lot easier for you if she had.” His shadow tumbled over her, substantial and bold. A muscle ticked along his jaw. “I wanted to stay home with you. I have trouble saying no to Evelyn, but I have better luck with Delia. I’m here to take care of my bride.”
“Oh.” Her chin wobbled, and she felt as if the air had been let out of her. She leaned back against the fence post, barely noticing the cow lipping her sunbonnet brim. “That’s what I have to talk to you about. I’m not your bride, not any longer.”
“What do you mean?” A hint of the devastation resurfaced in heartbreaking shades of blue as his gaze latched on to hers with a force as strong as a punch. Air rushed from her as she fought back a gasp. She had expected so much pain. Why wasn’t he relieved? Isn’t that what would be best for him? Wasn’t she simply saving him from having to ask her to leave?
“There has to be an attorney in town you can use to annul our marriage.” It wasn’t easy keeping her chin up and sorrow from taking over. She blinked hard, surprised to find tears pooling in her eyes.
Do not let them fall, she told herself. You can be stronger than this.
“You want to leave me?” He swiped a hand over his face, hiding all emotion from her. When his hand dropped away, his features were a granite mask, impossible to read.
“Isn’t it for the b-best?” She choked on the word. Pain stabbed through her, as if every bone in her body had cracked. Never had she felt such pain. Walking away from Austin would be like eternal winter, like never being happy again. “The baby is g-gone.”
“I’m grieving, it’s true. I wanted that baby. But that’s no reason to leave.” Tendons corded in his neck. He looked harsh, but she knew it wasn’t from anger. She could feel his anguish like her own. The connection between them remained. She could see into him. That hadn’t changed.
“But it’s why we married. It’s why you were so good to me. It’s why you cared about me. It’s why I came to Montana in the first place.”
“So, that’s it. You don’t need me anymore, and that’s why you’re leaving?”
No. How did she tell him she was always going to need him? She wanted him like no other. But what about his needs? What about his dreams? She’d failed him in every way. How could he want her now? She fisted her hands, fighting hard to hold it together, to keep her heartbreak out of her voice and her stubborn tears from falling. “I can’t give you what you want most. I can’t be the wife you deserve.”
“You are the wife I have. I don’t want another. I knew it the moment I saw your words in the newspaper. I’m a pregnant widow needing a husband, you wrote. Please.” He blew out a breath and shook his head, his emotions hidden. “It was the please that got me. Not because you were pregnant. I wanted you.”
“You said it yourself. Sometimes a heart is too broken.” Tears stood in her shadowed eyes full of pain. “I told you from the start. I’ve tried, but it’s nothing, just an empty, silent place within me. You are everything I’ve ever wished for. You are every dream I’ve ever had. I never thought those things could come true until I met you. And I’m not right for you. I’ve f-failed you.”
“Willa, you saved me. Can’t you see that?” If those tears brimmed her eyes and trailed down her cheeks, he was going to be in trouble. No way could he hold back the tides of his heart. No way could he keep a rein on his emotions. The thought of her leaving killed him. It slayed him to the core. “I was alone until you came. You gave me a home and a new life. You made me a husband and you are every dream I’ve ever had. Don’t you walk away and leave me grieving you, too.”
“But my heart.” Her chin wobbled, her dear little chin. Her teeth dug into her lush bottom lip, reminding him of every kiss and all the others to come. “I closed it up long ago. There was simply too much loneliness and pain. Nothing has opened it again. What if nothing ever does?”
“If it’s so empty, then what are those tears for?” He swiped the pad of his thumb against her ivory cheek, where one drop trailed slowly. Love for her blazed brighter than the sun above. He could not accept the fact that their union was doomed. “You can’t answer that, can you?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head, furrows digging into her forehead. Dismay dragged the corners of her mouth downward into misery. “I don’t know what is wrong with me. I hurt so much.”
“Then don’t go.”
“I don’t want to fail you again.” Her ardent gaze fastened onto his and he could read there what she didn’t know about herself. Relief rushed through him as he watched her struggle to find the right words. “You matter so much to me. You deserve to be happy, Austin. I want that more than anything.”
“Darlin’, caring about someone more than yourself? That’s what love is.” He knelt to pluck a few flowers from the carpet of grass at her feet. “I hate to break it to you, but you do love me.”
“No, it’s too late for me.” She shook her head at the blossoms he held out to her, their fragile cheerful beauty a sign that life always renewed itself, that it always found a way. She swallowed against the rising tide of emotion new and strange that struggled upward through her grief.
“It’s never too late. Love can heal anything.” He pressed the flowers into her hands—her favorite flower.
When his fingers brushed hers, her heart clicked. So long it had stayed silent, but now it spoke with the power to rival the sun. Recognition swept through her and she knew he was the one. He was the man she would love for the rest of her life. Tenderness lifted through her like the breeze through the trees and felt as tangible as the buttercups she held.
“I believe you’re right.” Now she knew what the emotion was that had been curling around her heart and filling her with a summery glow. She let the satchel fall to the ground, forgotten. “Love can heal anything.”
“I love you, Willa. You are my everything. Please stay with me.” His hand cradled her chin, and on his face she could read this abiding devotion to her. An affection so grand nothing could outshine it.
“I love you, Austin.” She smiled with her entire soul. When he slanted his lips over hers, she put her whole heart into it. Into his flawless, amazing kiss. He made her toes tingle. He made her believe. She could see their future as he took her into his arms and she laid her cheek against his chest. Spending her days and nights loving him, laughing at his humor and welcoming their children into their lives.
Happily-ever-after was no fairy tale. It was going to be her life as this man’s bride. Her hard times were over. Spring had come to her life and to her heart.
Epilogue
May, one year later
“Look at him go!” Delia laughed as she bounded after Kyle, who tottered on both feet as fast as he could go. Her laughter rang like music on a flawless afternoon as Willa crossed the porch and tapped down the steps.
Rosie leaned across the fence rail and mooed, her sparkling brown eyes eagerly watching all the excitement. Another horse and buggy rattled up the driveway, Brant holding the reins. Both Stewart and Arthur assisted him in pulling their horse to a stop.
“Willa! Oh, look at that sweet little face.” Berry eased down from the wagon with her husband’s help. Her baby was expected in a few months’ time. Merriment twinkled as she ambled slower. “How is your little angel toda
y?”
“Excited. She knows something is going on. Look at her bright eyes.” Willa held her baby daughter up so she could take a look at everything—her cousins racing across the grass, her uncle unhitching his horse and her aunt’s smile. “She’s been the perfect baby.”
“They all are.” Berry glanced over her shoulder. “Look. It’s the proud papa.”
Willa didn’t need to turn to know Austin strode into sight. The brilliance of his smile, the magnificence of his physique and the click opening her heart affected her like nothing else. Her life as his wife was bliss. Incandescent happiness lit her up as he drew near.
“I’d best go find Evelyn and leave you alone with your husband.” Berry swished off toward the house, leaving them alone.
“Hey, beautiful.” His baritone rumbled low, deep and as richly warm as buttered rum.
“Sophie is particularly beautiful today.” Willa gazed down at their daughter cradled in her arms, named after Austin’s mother. Big blue eyes, rosy cheeks and button face were topped by soft black curls. The baby’s rosebud mouth stretched into a toothless grin as she recognized her papa. “Pink is her best color.”
“She looks like a little rose. Hello, sweetheart.” He took one wee outstretched hand. Tiny fingers curled around his forefinger, holding on. Tenderness gleamed on his granite features, the kind of love that shone bright and forever. “But I was talking about you, my beautiful wife. Seeing you standing in the sunshine reminds me just what a lucky man I am.”
“No, I’m the lucky one.” Her entire being jittered with a rapid-fire tremble when their gazes fused. Her throat went dry. She couldn’t catch her breath as the golden sunshine bronzed him, illuminating his thick brown fall of hair, bluebonnet-blue eyes, high cheekbones and a chiseled rugged face. The face of her beloved. Because of him, she had everything. A family, a child, a joyous life and the best husband she could imagine. “I love you so much, Austin.”
“I love you more.” His hand cradled her chin, a gentle touch. A reverent touch. The pad of his thumb traced the curve of her bottom lip. “Remember what I told you? Happy marriages are a family trait. When a Dermot marries, love reigns. And my love for you will last forever.”
“Mine, too.” She sighed, longing for a kiss. She thought over the last year where grief had given way to hope, where sadness had turned to joy. She’d spent every day adoring Austin more and having the privilege of being cherished by him in return. The future stretched ahead of them, full of hope and joy. Happiness was hers and always would be.
His lips met hers in a kiss that outshone all the others. Infinitely gentle, deeply intimate and poignant enough to stir both her desire and her heart. With their daughter between them, she gazed into his eyes and saw all the promises he meant to keep. She gave a sigh of contentment. What a good life they had, and an even better one waited in store.
“Look at the two lovebirds,” Evelyn called from the porch with her baby son in her arms. “Come out back. The meal is ready. Let’s get this picnic started.”
“I guess we’d better join them. My stomach is rumbling,” Austin quipped as he slipped his arm around Willa’s shoulder. Together they walked through the sunshine in the meadow where buttercups bloomed.
And love reigned.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of My Fair Concubine by Jeannie Lin!
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Chapter One
China, Tang Dynasty—AD 824
Fei Long faced the last room at the end of the narrow hallway, unsheathed his sword and kicked the door open.
A feminine shriek pierced the air along with the frantic shuffle of feet as he strode through the entrance. The boarding room was a small one set above the teahouse below. The inhabitants, a man and a woman, flung themselves into the corner with nowhere to hide.
His gaze fixed on to the woman first. His sister’s hair was unbound and her eyes wide with fear. Pearl had their mother’s thoughtful features: the high forehead and the sharp angles that had softened since the last time he’d seen her. She was dressed only in pale linen underclothes. The man who was with her had enough daring to step in between them.
Fei Long glanced once to the single wooden bed against one wall, the covers strewn wide, and his vision blurred with anger. He gripped the sword until his knuckles nearly cracked with the strain.
‘Bastard,’ he gritted out through his teeth.
He knew this man he’d come to kill. This boy. At least Han had been a boy when Fei Long had last seen him. And Pearl had been a mere girl. Now she was a grown woman, staring at him as if he were a demon risen from the underworld.
‘Fei Long.’ Pearl’s fingers curled tight over her lover’s arm. ‘So now you’ve come.’
The soft bitterness of the accusation cut through him. Pearl had begged for him to come back a year earlier when her marriage had first been arranged, but he’d dismissed her letters as childish ramblings. If he had listened, she might not have thrown herself into ruin and their father’s spirit wouldn’t be floating restlessly between heaven and earth.
The young man stretched himself before Fei Long, though he failed to match him in stature. ‘Not in front of Pearl,’ he implored.
Though he trembled, the boy fought to keep his voice steady as Pearl clung to him, hiding just behind his shoulder. At least the dog managed to summon some courage. If Han had cowered or begged for his life, he would already be dead.
‘Step away, Little Sister,’ Fei Long commanded.
‘No.’
‘Pearl.’
‘I’d rather die here with Han than go to Khitan.’
She’d changed in the five years since he’d seen her. The Pearl he remembered had been obedient, sweet-tempered and pleasant in all things. Fei Long had ridden hard from Changan to this remote province, expecting to find the son of a dog who had stolen her away.
Now that she stood before him with quiet defiance, he knew she hadn’t been seduced or deceived. Zheng Xie Han’s family lived within their ward in the capital city. Though lower in standing, the Zheng family had always maintained a good reputation. His sister had turned to Han because she’d had no one else.
The tension drained out of Fei Long, stealing away his rage. His throat pulled tight as he forced out the next word. ‘Go.’
The two of them stared at him in disbelief.
‘Go,’ he repeated roughly.
Fei Long lowered his weapon and turned away while they dressed themselves. Shoving his sword back into its sheath, he faced the bare wall. He could hear the shuffle of movement behind him as the couple gathered their belongings.
The bleakness of the last few weeks settled into his gut like a stone. When he’d left for his assignment to the north-western garrison, Fei Long had believed his home to be a harmonious place. Up
on news of his father’s sudden death, he’d returned to find his sister gone and debt collectors circling the front gates like vultures.
His father’s presence had been an elaborate screen, hiding the decay beneath the lacquered surface of their lives. Fei Long now saw Pearl’s arranged marriage for what it was: a desperate ploy to restore the family honour—or rather to prolong the illusion of respectability.
When he turned again, Pearl and Han stood watching him tentatively. Each of them had a pack slung around their shoulder. Off to face the horizon with all their belongings stowed in two small bags.
Han bowed once. ‘Elder Brother.’
The young man risked Fei Long’s temper to deliver the honorific. Fei Long couldn’t bring himself to return the bow. Pearl met his eyes as they started for the door. The heaviness of her expression struck him like a physical blow.
This was the last time he would ever see his sister.
Fei Long took his money pouch from his belt and held it out. The handful of coppers rattled inside. ‘Here.’
Han didn’t look at him as he took it.
‘Thank you, Fei Long,’ Pearl whispered.
They didn’t embrace. The two of them had been apart for so long that they wouldn’t have known how. Fei Long watched their backs as they retreated down the stairway; gone like everything else he had once known to be true.
* * *
‘Jilted lover,’ the cook guessed.
Yan Ling’s eyes grew wide. The stranger had stormed up the staircase only moments earlier with a sword strapped to his side and the glint of murder in his deep-set eyes. She’d leapt out of the path of his charge, just managing to hold on to her pot of tea without spilling a drop.
She stood at the edge of the main room, head cocked to listen for sounds of mayhem upstairs. Her heart raced as she gripped the handle of the teapot. Such violence and scandal were unthinkable in their quiet town.
