Authors: Wendy Lindstrom
“I have to get back before I’m missed,” Radford said, gripping Thorn’s wet palm. “God be with you.”
“Same to you, Radical. Stay well, my friend.” Thorn stuck the coffee packet in his mouth, gave a two-finger salute and shoved off.
Radford swam through the dark, feeling the pull of the Georgia waters swirling around his weary body, dragging him deeper into the darkness. Disjointed images swirled in his head, then ignited into bright flashes of men killing each other. Suddenly, Radford felt his chest pounding and he was running across a cornfield at Collier's Mill, the smoke eating holes in his sinuses and stinging his eyes. Through the haze he saw Thorn running toward him, blond hair flying, rifle raised, his bayonet glinting in the fierce July sun as the Confederate line charged the Union ranks.
Thorn! Radford lowered his rifle.
Nooooo
...
o0o
Evelyn spoke Radford's name for the second time, but he thrashed in oblivion. It was indecent and intrusive of her to be in his bedroom, but she had been unable to ignore the tormented moans drifting through the nursery into her own room. And now that she'd seen the agony etched in Radford's moon-shadowed face, she could not leave him writhing in the throes of such misery.
Biting her lip, she bent close to his handsome face. Touching his
stubbled
jaw, she called his name. Like a bolt of lightning, his arms streaked out and knocked her to the mattress. He rolled atop her and covered her legs with his knee, his thumb pressed hard on her throat. “Don't move!” he hissed by her ear.
She froze obediently and stared into his deadly glittering eyes, knowing with blossoming certainty there was something terribly wrong with this man. “Ra-Radford,” she croaked, growing frantic for air.
Radford shot to his elbows, his eyes wide with disbelief that quickly turned to horror. “What the hell?” He jerked his hand away and vaulted from the bed, his naked backside cast in golden moonlight before he cursed and dropped back on the bed. He yanked a blanket across his lap and ran trembling fingers through his hair. “What are you doing in here, Evelyn?”
Shocked by his attack and her first glimpse of a nude male body, Evelyn tried to scramble from the bed, intending to race from the room.
He caught her arm. “Are you hurt?”
She whimpered and recoiled from his touch. Her throat burned and she wasn’t about to trust him after his crazed response. And he was unclothed beneath those blankets! With caution, she inched toward the end of the bed.
“I asked if you're all right.”
“I—” She clutched her throat and coughed. “I'm sorry,” she squawked, her voice ragged.
“You're sorry?” He raked his hair back with an exasperated sigh. “
Dammit
, Evelyn, don't ever put yourself in danger like that again!”
Her glance flew to his face. “Danger?”
Their gazes locked and he gave a solemn nod.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked.
He shook his head, then with a miserable groan, he buried his face in his hands. “Things you don’t want to know.”
That low, agonized confession pierced Evelyn’s heart. No one deserved the mental torment she had witnessed as he thrashed upon his mattress. “You...you won’t attack me if I stay, will you?” She perched indecisively on the edge of the bed, ready to bolt if he didn’t answer immediately.
Radford sighed and lifted his head, his eyes dark, hurting. “No, Evelyn.” Slowly, he reached out and cupped her jaw, drawing his thumb across her cheek. “I would never intentionally hurt you. I’m sorry that I did.”
Her skin came alive beneath Radford’s touch. His gentle caress and remorseful, searching gaze brought her compassion soaring to life. “Would it help to talk about it?”
He shook his head and lowered his hand to the mattress. “I’m a good listener.”
A melancholy smile touched his lips. “I’m sure you are.”
“Do you have nightmares often?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted him to confide in her. Something told her the less she knew about Radford Grayson, the safer she’d be. And he certainly wasn’t dressed for conversation.
“Not every night.” He held her gaze. “I shouldn’t disturb your sleep often.”
“I wasn’t worried about my sleep. I...I’m worried about you.” Embarrassed by her bold words, Evelyn ducked her head, shielding her eyes behind the curtain of her hair. The mattress shifted and Radford leaned forward to brush her hair back. Surprised by his touch, she glanced up, her gaze tangling with his. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she said. “I don’t think you’re unsafe.”
“You probably think I’m insane and I wouldn’t blame you.” He gave her a self-effacing smile. “Maybe I am.” He drew her hair behind her ear. With infinite tenderness, he touched the abused area of her throat, searching her eyes until Evelyn’s heart pounded and the air crackled with tense silence. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said.
“You didn’t.”
“I did,” he insisted softly. He drew her hair over her shoulder, letting it slip through his fingers and fall back to the inky pool at her hips. “You have nice hair.” Radford’s gaze floated over Evelyn and his expression grew troubled, as though a complete stranger suddenly appeared before him. “I hadn’t imagined you like this,” he said, his voice quiet, his eyes intense. “Not like this.”
Embarrassed by the way his gaze lingered, Evelyn gathered her
nightrail
and pulled it away from her body, hoping to shield her nakedness beneath the thin calico fabric. “I...I’m not dressed.”
“I’m aware of that,” he said quietly while his thumb glided slowly across her parted lips. Tilting her chin with a single finger, Radford’s dark eyes inspected her. “You'd better leave, Tomboy. I’m feeling dangerous after all.”
As the first rays of dawn crept through the apple trees, Radford lifted his face to the warm caress of morning air and took a good look around his new home.
The stone fence girding the front yard had surrendered to a thick tangle of morning glory vines. In several areas the rocks had given way and would need to be rebuilt. Radford eyed the house. A few new boards and a fresh coat of paint on the porch and balcony would save William’s house from appearing rundown. Though the barn was also losing paint and the livery sign dangled from one nail above crooked double doors, it was a solid structure needing minor repairs. The horse shelter in the paddock behind the barn was rotted beyond saving and would have to be replaced.
It would be enough work to keep Radford busy, to keep his mind off his nightmares and the sweet sound of his father’s sawmill beckoning in the distance. For a while, the fecund smell of hay and horses would have to replace the scent of fresh-cut pine. He could live with that for now.
With new resolve, Radford pushed open the livery door and came up short when he saw Evelyn wrestling with the oversized chain she had borrowed from Kyle. Radford intended to apologize to Evelyn for his behavior last night, but had no idea how to explain his appalling actions. It wasn’t only the nightmare that had unnerved him, he was used to waking up in that state of panic. It had been Evelyn’s presence. He couldn’t believe that the woman perched on the side of his bed in a thin
nightrail
with waves of gorgeous hair tumbling around her slim hips was really Evelyn.
To think he’d be spending each day working beside her was distressing, but Radford comforted himself with the knowledge that he would be kept busy with customers. They would come from morning to late evening to stable their horses or have them shod, others would want to rent rigs and mounts. Inevitably, Radford and Evelyn would cross paths while doing their daily chores of grooming animals, cleaning stalls, oiling harnesses, and making repairs, but when their day ended, Radford would go help Kyle build his house. Radford might have to share the burden of livery work with Evelyn, but that’s all they would share, Radford vowed silently.
He’d forget about last night and the feel of her hair slipping through his fingers and the heat of her body beneath his own when he’d pressed her into his mattress.
“If you’re looking for something to do, I could use some help with this,” Evelyn said, whacking her hands against her britches. She sat on a stump of wood beside the iron-encased wooden wheel and stared at it with a defeated sigh. “I need to take this to the blacksmith, but I can’t get it off without lifting the axle.”
Glad that Evelyn had provided an easy way to begin a conversation, Radford looked at the beam twelve feet over his head. “How did you get that chain over the rafter? You could barely get it to the wagon yesterday.”
“I tied it to a rope and pulled it over. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough strength to pull the carriage off the ground, and I’ve already loosened the hub,” she said with disgust, giving the wheel a whack with her hand.
The carriage shifted and the iron links grated as they slipped against the axle. “Look out!” he yelled, lunging forward to reach around Evelyn and steady the carriage. His chest brushed her back and he smelled soap and hay on her hair. “Put your stool under the axle,” Radford instructed, nodding toward an old hickory stump that Evelyn was sitting on.
Reacting quickly, she rose up and wrestled the thick stump from beneath her, brushing her elbows, back, and bottom against Radford in all the wrong places. Torn between bolting from the livery or tightening his arms around her, Radford forced himself to concentrate on the chain, afraid it might slip further and cause the carriage to fall on the unsecured wheel.
Evelyn pushed the thick block of wood beneath the axle, then turned to Radford, her face only inches away. “I’ll hold the block steady while you tighten the chain.”
“No. You’ll get hurt if that axle pulls from the hub.” Radford gripped the chain and wondered if it was his hand or the metal beneath it that trembled. A long silky strand of hair had escaped Evelyn’s braid and dangled down her back reminding Radford of what it had looked like last night falling around her slender body like a cloak. “What time do the customers usually start coming?” Radford asked to distract himself while he adjusted the chain.
“We haven’t had many lately.”
The thought that Evelyn and William might be experiencing financial troubles because of William’s illness brought Radford back to his senses and he made a silent promise that he would turn this livery around before going back to the mill.
“That should do it,” he said, securing the chain then backing up a step to let Evelyn squeeze from between him and the carriage wheel. “Business will pick up when I get the forge going. I’ll be able to shoe horses and maybe even fix this wheel band by tomorrow.”
“You can fix that?” Evelyn asked, her eyes lighting up.
To his distress, Radford found himself staring again. Evelyn was refreshingly transparent, unlike Olivia who’d been an emotional chameleon. The first time he’d seen Rebecca’s mother was at a theater in Boston where Radford had gone to escape the pain of his memories. Olivia’s ballet performance had swept him away so completely that it was the first time in years Radford’s mind had been quiet. After the show, he’d gone backstage to introduce himself to Olivia, and that began a fiery ten-month affair that ended when she walked away from Radford and their infant daughter. Olivia Jordon wanted her dancing career, not a husband and child.
“It’s all right if you can’t fix the wheel,” Evelyn said, as though Radford’s lack of response was meant to be a negative answer.
“It won’t be a problem,” he said, then stood up and grabbed the chain. “You’d better stand back.” Iron links rumbled over the beam as he pulled on the chain, gouging fragments of wood that floated down upon him and Evelyn. He pulled again and the carriage inched upward until the wheel was suspended four inches off the livery floor.
“It must be nice to be so strong,” Evelyn said. “I could do three times as much work in a day if I had a pulley and half your strength.”
Or three times as much destruction, Radford thought. Though his strength had kept him alive during the war, knowing how he’d used that power to survive was not something Radford wanted to remember.
“Kyle lifts logs by hand just to prove he can,” Evelyn continued, oblivious to Radford’s unease. “He says it keeps him in shape.”
Radford squatted beside the wheel and pulled the pin from the hub. “Kyle’s been strong since he was born. He doesn’t need to work at it.”
“I know, but don’t tell him that. His head is
fat
enough.”
Radford grinned despite himself. Maybe working with Evelyn wouldn’t be so bad after all. She was easy to read and she spoke her mind honestly. As long as she kept her fanny away from his groin, he might be able to keep his thoughts where they belonged.
“You won’t tell Kyle what I said, will you?”
Radford didn't respond right away, just studied Evelyn with curiosity that deepened to appreciation. Slowly he stood. “You have my word.” He reached out and picked a wood fragment off her shoulder. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”
Her eyes widened, then she dropped her chin and took a step back. “I’ve already forgotten about it.”
“Good,” he said. “I want to help you, not scare you to death, or make you think you’re working with a crazy man.”