Handpicked Husband (Love Inspired Historical) (19 page)

Then he got his first good look at her face.

She’d been crying! And not just dainty, ladylike weeping. The tracks on her cheeks attested to a raging flood of tears.

His churlishness had brought her to this.

Her luminous eyes drifted open, and she gave him a sleepy smile. “Are you ever going to kiss me again?” she asked wistfully.

A heartbeat later, the dreamy fog cleared from her eyes. She stiffened and her face suffused with color. “I’m sorry. I was still dreaming—”

“You were crying.” It came out harsher than he’d intended, like an accusation. She’d been dreaming about his kissing her?

Regina swiped guiltily at her cheeks. “It was nothing,” she said almost convincingly. “I was just feeling sorry for myself.”

She tried to turn away then, but he stopped her with a hand to her arm. “I suppose I owe you an apology.” He clenched his jaw. “I haven’t handled this whole business very well.”

She stiffened. “Don’t go feeling sorry for me. I told you, it was a momentary lapse. It won’t happen again.”

He raked a hand through his hair. It appeared they were going to have this conversation tonight after all.

He pulled out a chair and took a seat. “We need to talk.”

* * *

Reggie rubbed her upper arms, trying to tamp down her embarrassment. What she’d said to him—

Her cheeks warmed all over again at the memory.

She glanced his way and his serious expression raised a prickle of apprehension.

But mostly she felt relief. Whatever else resulted from this discussion, it signaled that he was through ignoring her.

“I won’t lie,” he began. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget what you did.”

She thought she’d braced herself for censure, but his words still had the power to lash at her.

Adam leaned back. “However, I realize I’ve acted churlishly and for that I apologize.”

Reggie kept very still, her hands clasped in her lap. He’d apologized—that was something.

“As you said,” Adam continued, “what happened in the past can’t be changed. It’s the present and future we need to concentrate on, and how to make them livable for the both of us.”

She knew those words hadn’t come easily to him and that she should be grateful. He’d offered an olive branch of sorts, a sign of compromise from a man who thought compromise was a weakness. Expecting more from him would be unrealistic. The least she could do was meet him halfway. “How do you suggest we do that?”

Was that flicker in his expression a flash of relief?

Whatever it had been, he suppressed quickly. “We made vows to each other in front of God and your neighbors,” he said. “It’s important that we be true to those.”

“I never planned to do otherwise.”

He gave her a tight smile. “Then we’re agreed. It might take some effort at first, but in time it will likely become second nature for us to get along amenably.”

Now didn’t that just sound like the most romantic way to start off a new marriage?

Reggie, stood, needing some activity, some distance from Adam. “You haven’t eaten anything tonight. Let me at least get you some cheese and bread.”

Adam stood as well. “I
could
use a bite of something.”

She unwrapped the block of cheese and reached for a knife while Adam took a clean cup from the drain board and uncorked the jug of cider.

He stood beside her, so close their shoulders nearly touched. It rattled her for some reason, made her breath uneven.

Did he feel anything at all?

Reggie sliced into the cheese with more vigor than care, then jerked her finger up to her lips, wincing at the metallic tang of blood.

Adam immediately set his cup down, concern furrowing his brow. “Let me see that.”

She pulled her finger out of her mouth and shook her head. “It’s nothing. The knife slipped. I—”

“Don’t argue.” He took her hand, examining the cut with a concerned frown.

Reggie stared down at her hand in his. A tiny rivulet of blood seeped from the shallow cut, curling around her finger and onto his, like a narrow ribbon binding them together.

Amazing that such large, work-callused hands could feel so warm and gentle without losing their sense of strength.

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” she said. “It doesn’t even hurt.” Not a lie since all she could feel at this moment was his touch, his nearness.

“Let’s clean it and get a better look, just in case.” Still holding her hand, he dipped a clean rag in the nearby bucket of water, then slowly squeezed it over her finger. Head bent, he gently dabbed at the remaining blood.

Reggie stared down at his head, so close she could smell the scent of soap and cigar smoke and night air. So close her breath stirred his hair. So close she could press her lips to his temple without moving much at all.

She pulled slightly back at that very inappropriate thought.

His head came up, his gaze seeking hers. “Did I hurt you?”

Not in any way I can explain.
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

“Well then, I think you’re right. It’s not serious. The bleeding’s already stopped.” He let go of her hand. “You’re obviously tired. Go on to bed. I can fix my own meal.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll clean up when I’m done.”

Reggie nodded and turned away, realizing nothing much had changed. He was talking to her again, but he didn’t care to spend any more time in her company than he had to.

* * *

Adam stared up at the rafters, wishing for sleep that refused to come.

He’d done the right thing, hadn’t he?

Civility was the best, the only, approach.

A soft sound interrupted his thoughts. Footsteps pattered across the floor below and then the cabin door opened and closed.

She was making a late-night trip to the privy, no doubt.

He lay there, waiting for the sound of her return. As the minutes ticked by, he began to imagine all the things that might have gone wrong.

Had she stumbled in the dark and injured herself?

Encountered a snake, or something worse?

Had she somehow gotten turned around and wandered into the woods instead of back to the house?

After several more minutes, Adam couldn’t stand it any longer. Pausing just long enough to dress, he climbed down the ladder and headed out the door.

Only to find her safe and sound, leaning against the porch rail, looking out into the night.

He knew she must have heard him. He certainly hadn’t made any effort to move quietly. But she didn’t bother to turn around.

He remained where he was, waffling about whether to leave her to her solitude or join her. He’d just about decided his company wouldn’t be welcome, when she spoke up.

“I’ve always loved it out here.” Her voice had a musing, reminiscent quality to it, as if she were talking to herself.

Taking that as an invitation, he moved next to her and rested his elbows on the rail. She wore a worn cotton robe, belted at the waist, covering whatever nightclothes she had on underneath. Her hair fell in soft waves down her back. It stirred slightly in the night breeze, like a living thing, inviting his touch.

She let out a sigh, drawing his attention back to her face. “It’s so peaceful. Even the sounds—insects, animals, wind—have a soothing quality to them.”

She didn’t seem to expect an answer so he held his peace.

“Granddaddy Noah built this cabin with his own hands,” she continued in that same dreamy tone. “He and Nana Ruth and my mother lived here until Mother married my father.”

Regina pushed away from the rail. “Let me show you something.” She moved to the door but instead of going inside as he’d expected, she paused at the threshold. “Give me your hand.”

Without a word, he complied.

Regina guided his hand to the sill above the door. “Feel that?” she asked.

Something was carved into the wood. He carefully traced the design with an index finger.

A heart? And there was something inside the outline.

“It’s Granddaddy and Nana Ruth’s initials and wedding date. He carved it there the day he brought her here. He said their marriage finally made his house a home.”

Was that what had evoked her pensive mood? Thoughts of her grandparents’ marriage?

Regina moved back to the rail. “I remember when I was very little, Granddaddy used to tell me that story. Then he’d lift me up so I could trace the carving with my fingers, like you just did.”

She cut her gaze his way, and even in the dark he saw her expression had lost that dreamlike quality, saw her lips twist into a self-deprecating smile. “I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for a lesson in my family history.” She rubbed her upper arms. “It’s just that they’re all very much on my mind tonight.”

“I saw you added my name to your family Bible.”

She stiffened warily. He could tell from the flicker of surprise in her expression that she hadn’t intended for him to discover that entry.

“It seemed appropriate.” Her tone managed to sound matter-of-fact. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Actually, I’m honored.” He shifted to face her more fully, resting a hip against the rail. “That makes the family history you were just recounting part of mine as well.”

She glanced away, bracing her hands on the rail again. “I see. However, you don’t understand what I was trying to say. My grandfather meant for this to be a home, a place full of love and laughter. I’ve not lived up to that. I’m afraid he’d be disappointed in me.”

Adam felt his own thoughts shift and tangle. He still believed that in giving her son away she’d done the unforgivable. But that didn’t mean he wanted her to castigate herself this way.

He covered one of her hands with his. “You’re being too harsh on yourself.

She stared down at his hand resting on hers a moment. Then she jerked it away, looking at him with eyes that were suspiciously moist.

“Don’t do this.” Her voice was tight, almost desperate. “Don’t be sweet to me if you don’t really mean it. I couldn’t bear it.” She spun around and stepped away from him.

Why did she have to be so unflinchingly honest, so noble? It made hearing the pain in her voice that much harder to bear.

Adam placed his hands on her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. “Right now, here with you in the moonlight, it’s difficult
not
to mean it.”

He slid his hands down her arms, capturing her wrists. “Come along.” He drew her toward the porch swing. “It seems neither of us is in the mood for sleep right now. Why don’t we sit out here and talk?”

She nodded, and docilely followed him. But he sensed a wariness about her, as if she was braced for another set down.

He supposed he couldn’t blame her.

“What should we talk about?” she asked as she settled into the swing.

“Tell me about Jack’s father.”

Chapter Sixteen

A
dam kicked himself as he heard Reggie’s indrawn breath. Her expression reflected shock and a sense of betrayal.

“I’m sorry.” He raked a hand through his hair, trying to hide his chagrin. He’d intended to comfort her, not deepen her pain. “I don’t know why I asked that. I—”

She placed a finger to his lips, silencing his apology. Her color was returning and she faced him squarely. “Of course you’re curious. It’s only natural.”

She wrapped a cloak of dignity around her, as if for protection. “Perhaps it
will
help, if you know what happened.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I believe I do.” Her smile was bittersweet.

She paused and he could almost see her mind casting back through the years to pull out the memories. “It happened the year I turned sixteen. My parents died six months earlier and I had moved in with Patricia and Lemuel. Patricia was recovering from her second miscarriage. And—”

She cut him a cryptic look. “Let’s just say I’d reached a low point, both in morale and self-confidence.”

What had happened to put that wounded look in her expression?

“A couple of months after our annual visit to Grandfather’s,” she continued, “a theater group came through Turnabout. They only intended to stay for three days, but then one of their wagons broke down, and by the time it was repaired their lead actress had injured her leg. All in all, they ended up staying four weeks.”

Her hand fiddled with the collar of her robe. “I’d taken over Father’s photography business by then, and convinced most of the performers to pose for me.”

She smiled reminiscently. “Daniel wasn’t like the other members of the troupe. He was quiet and unassuming and seemed genuinely interested in my work. He asked intelligent questions, and spent lots of time with me. He complimented my work, and picked flowers for me, and even wrote me a poem.”

She waved a hand. “I guess I was flattered. Since I wasn’t one of the pretty girls, or well-to-do girls, and was a mite unconventional to boot, I wasn’t used to such attention.”

Didn’t the male population of Turnabout have eyes and minds?

“Anyway, for the first time a man noticed me,
really
noticed me, in a romantic sort of way. I let it go to my head. For a while I even thought I was in love.”

Adam tried to ignore the stirring of jealousy her words prompted.

She grimaced. “Lemuel didn’t like the attention I was getting. He said theater people were unreliable and loose-moralled. But I knew Daniel was different.”

Hearing the self-condemnation in her voice, Adam felt sympathy for the girl she had been.

“The day before the troupe was to leave, he asked me to marry him.”

Adam went very still.

“He offered to go to Lemuel and ask for my hand,” she continued. “But he wanted to be sure I returned his feeling first. I was elated and nervous at the same time. I desperately wanted the life he offered me, but I knew Lemuel would never consent. Daniel argued with me, but I finally persuaded him it would be best if we eloped and then told my family after it was done.

“He finally consented to my plan. I let Patricia think I was coming here to visit my grandparents. I even took Cap, Buck’s sire, with me, just like always. Daniel found a justice of the peace to tie the knot all proper like, and then he took me to a nice inn for our wedding night. I’d never felt so loved and pampered in my life.”

She twisted her hands in her lap. “It wasn’t until the next morning that I learned Daniel had hired that man to pretend to be a justice, and the whole marriage was a sham.”

Adam stared at the pain and mortification on her face and would gladly have throttled the life out of the contemptible bit of snake spit who’d done that to her if he’d been within reach.

“I should have realized from the first that the whole courtship was just a way for him to pass the time while he was stuck in Turnabout. Why else would someone like that have paid so much attention to someone like me?”

“Don’t think that. You are worth a hundred of him.”

Her lips attempted a smile. “Thank you. But you needn’t try to make me feel better. I know my limitations.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Daniel must have been quite amused by my vehement arguments against his going to Lemuel. I played my part in his little production perfectly without ever having read the script.”

The blackguard had taken advantage of an innocent sixteen-year-old girl and then abandoned her without a qualm. She must have felt so betrayed.

Adam tamped down his anger at the man, determined to concentrate on comforting Regina. He placed his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. You thought you were married.”

“But I wasn’t, and there’s no changing that.”

“Perhaps not, but Daniel did wrong, not you.”

Regina stared at him with a don’t-lie-to-me expression. “Are you saying you no longer blame me?”

Her hair was disheveled, her wrapper patched and faded. She should have looked pitiful. Instead, she looked so lovely, so vulnerable. His thumb gently stroked the curve of her chin. He wanted to give her the answer that would put a smile on her face.

But he couldn’t lie to her. “Not for that night.”

There was a flicker of disappointment at his conditional response, and then acceptance. Her eyes closed. “Thank you for that at least.”

His fingers still supported her chin but her eyes remained closed, as though she were too weary to open them.

He lifted his other hand and brushed the hair from her temple.

She leaned into his touch, and her gesture of trust was achingly sweet.

If he kissed her now, would she break it off again?

There was only one way to find out.

He lowered his head, capturing her lips with his. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, he tightened his hold on her. A part of him knew he should put some distance between them immediately, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember why.

A heartbeat later reason returned, and this time it was he who broke it off.

* * *

Reggie opened her eyes, confused. What was the matter? All the old feelings of inadequacy came crashing back around her.

“Regina?” He gave her shoulders a squeeze then leaned back to stare into her eyes.

“Yes?” His expression was solemn, troubled. He stood and she thought he was going to walk away from her. Again.

But he only moved as far as the porch rail. “I’m not really certain what I feel right now.”

Reggie’s chest squeezed painfully. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this.

He raked a hand through his hair, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “I like you, make no mistake about that.” A ghost of his old grin appeared. “While you can be stubborn and bossy at times, there are many things I admire about you as well.”

“But?”

“But the fact is, you willingly gave your son away. And right now, that’s something I can’t get past. I can’t promise I ever will.”

She almost laughed at the irony. The one act she considered the single most selfless and noble of her lifetime, was the one that condemned her in his eyes.

But at least Adam was trying to be honest, letting her know what he could and couldn’t give. Could she live with knowing he would always hold a large part of himself back from her?

What choice did she have?

“Just promise me you won’t ever reveal any of these feelings to Jack.”

“Of course not.” He held her gaze. “We made vows that I intend to honor. I won’t do anything, either publicly or privately, to embarrass you. But neither can I promise to ever get beyond this issue between us.”

She rose, trying not to let him see into her heart. “You understand that the—” the heat rose in her cheeks but she forced herself to go on “—the
intimacies
of marriage, without love and respect...would be—”

He waved a hand abruptly. “If it’s a platonic marriage you want, I will respect that.”

She wasn’t sure
what
she wanted at this point, but she nodded.

“Then we shall resolve to behave as a married couple should in public, and in private—” his jaw tightened “—we shall behave civilly to one another, and nothing more.”

“Agreed.” Eager to be alone with her thoughts, she moved to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ll turn in.”

“Regina, I—”

She raised a hand to stop his words. “I’m okay. After all, I’m the one who kept telling you I didn’t see marriage in my future, so it’s not as if you wrecked any dreams I held.” Was she trying to convince him or herself?

She pushed that thought away. “Good night, Adam.”

As she prepared for bed, her thoughts moved from her current misery to the family Bible and what it stood for. It had been so long since she’d felt worthy to go to God in prayer for her own needs, her own hurts. But tonight, fingering Granddaddy Noah’s Bible, she’d remembered something very important that he’d taught her. It didn’t matter what she’d done, how far she’d strayed, God loved her deeply and would never turn her away.

Heavenly Father, I come to You with a shattered heart and confused mind. I won’t ask that You change Adam’s heart. You gave everyone free will and, if it’s to be, that’s a choice he must make on his own. But please help me face the coming days with acceptance and dignity, to not wear my heart on my sleeve, to not make things harder for Adam.

She paused a moment, mulling over that last request.

It’s my fault Adam’s in this situation. Please show me, no matter how uncomfortable the task, how I can help him come to terms with our uneasy marriage and find some peace going forward. Oh, and shield Jack from any hurt that might result from my actions.

And in everything, let me give glory to You. Amen.

Feeling more at peace than she had since things had gone so wildly awry, Reggie climbed into bed and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Adam stayed on the porch long after Regina had retired. His thoughts were a tangled mess. A part of him admired and respected Regina, wanted to cherish and protect her, wanted to slay all her dragons—those past and those to come. But whenever he remembered that she had given her son away, his reaction was gut-level and all the rest flew out the window.

Still, it would be quite sometime before he could rid his mind of the wounded look in her eyes just now as she made her exit.