The Longing (19 page)

“Nothing. I’m sorry I woke you.”

He dragged out his pocket watch and squinted
at it near the lantern, then glanced back at her. “What are you
doing here at this hour?”

Well, she might as well try to send him home.
“I came to relieve you until your crew gets here. I can feed the
stove for an hour or so while you go home to bed.”

He snorted. “You can’t stay here alone.”

“I was alone at home.”

“There’s a lock on our door. There isn’t one
here.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to stay and guard
me.” She moved toward the stove, unwilling to go back to her empty
house. She had spent enough lonely hours in her apartment to last
her a lifetime. “I’ll watch the fire while you sleep.”

Kyle scrubbed his palms over his face then
stared at her as she opened the heavy stove door. When she reached
for a piece of firewood, he stepped forward and caught her wrist.
“Leave it.” He pushed the door closed and pulled her toward the
chair he’d just vacated. “Sit down and tell me why you’re not home
in bed.”

“I don’t want to sit if you’re going to tower
over me like an angry parent.”

He grabbed the ends of two stacked beams and
inched them away from the pile far enough to form a seat. He sat
down with an irritated sigh. “All right. What’s wrong?”

She reached to hoist her skirt and realized
she was wearing the britches he despised. “Are you really here
because you have to be?” she asked, perching on the edge of the
chair. “Or do you just want to get away from me?”

“Both,” he said, in his usual brusque
manner.

Her chest constricted, but she forced herself
not to look away from him. “You hate me for forcing our marriage,
don’t you?”

Instead of responding immediately, he studied
her with his dark, perceptive eyes, his expression unfathomable.
“You didn’t force me into anything, Amelia. The repercussions of
that meeting are a result of my own stupidity, not your
manipulation.”

“Then you don’t hate me?”

“No.” He didn’t look away or roll his eyes or
snort or do anything else to express the irritation she suspected
he was feeling. He just sat and looked at her, his face dark with
whiskers, his eyes red with fatigue. “Why are you afraid of me?” he
asked quietly.

A rock of foreboding lodged in her stomach
and she didn’t know how to answer.

“I do intend to consummate our marriage,
Amelia.”

“I know,” she said, but they weren’t ready
yet. They’d had almost no time together to develop a friendship or
a caring relationship. Kyle’s reaction to her lack of virginity
would be the same now as it would have been on their wedding
night.

“I’d like you to answer my question.”

She wasn’t afraid of Kyle, but it was the
only excuse that would buy them more time. “You feel like a
stranger to me,” she said. “I don’t know any more about you today
than I knew a week ago.”

Lantern light highlighted beads of moisture
on his forehead and accentuated the shadows around his eyes. “What
do you want to know?”

A million questions flashed through her mind,
but one repeated itself and begged for her attention until it was
the only thought she had. “Have you ever felt vulnerable?” she
asked. “Even once? I know men probably don’t experience fear,
but—”

“Yes.” His gaze locked with hers. “I’ve felt
insecure and powerless before.”

His face was so close, his look so intense,
Amelia felt her stomach lift in anticipation. “When?” she
whispered, torn between wanting him to answer and wanting him to
kiss her.

He eased back and sighed. “When my father
died.” He’d answered in his straightforward manner, but the pain
was evident in his eyes despite his ability to keep it out of his
voice.

Amelia inhaled wood-scented air, but it
didn’t ease the sudden thickness in her throat. “I shouldn’t have
asked. I’m sorry. My papa was everything to me. I’m sure you felt
the same about your own father.”

Kyle braced his elbows on his knees, a habit
of his that she was growing fond of. “My father had been ill a long
time. I knew he wouldn’t live to become an old man, but the morning
he didn’t wake up for church was a hard shock.” Kyle stared at the
floor. “He just went to sleep and never woke up. I had no idea the
end was so close.”

Hal Grayson had contracted a disease as a
young boy that had slowly crippled him, but several years before
his death, he’d been a tall, handsome man who walked with a cane
and flashed a gorgeous smile that he’d passed on to his four
sons.

“I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories,”
Amelia said, knowing it was a difficult topic for both of them.

“I was lucky to have the depot to manage. It
kept me from dwelling on losing my father.” His eyes met hers. “I
guess it makes sense now why you want to spend time at your
father’s mill.”

“I love being there. I want to be your
partner, Kyle.”

His lips tilted and he snorted.

“I’m serious. I promise to stay away from the
saw, but there’s a hundred other things I can do to help.”

“I don’t mind you coming by occasionally to
clean the office. I can actually find the files I’m looking for
now.”

“I am
not
interested in becoming the
mill maid, Kyle.”

Amelia shot to her feet. “Don’t even think
it. My brain would shrivel to the size of a raisin within a week. I
need to be learning something, or teaching, or doing anything that
will stimulate my mind.”

She started to pace, but Kyle caught her hand
and stopped her. “I’m willing to teach whatever you want to
learn.”

Stunned by his boldness, Amelia could only
stare into his handsome face. The fire in his eyes told her he
wasn’t talking about the mill. He was offering to be her instructor
in the art of intimacy. If he only knew that Amelia didn’t need his
instruction. Just looking at him made her want to pull his clothes
off and devour him. She thought about sinking onto his lap and
kissing him, but considered where it would lead and knew she had to
get away from him before she was foolish enough to answer the
craving in her body. She’d made that mistake once and it had nearly
ruined her future. She wasn’t going to fall into bed with her
husband and mess up her last chance at love.

“I’m serious about helping at the mill,” she
said, tugging her hand free.

“All right, Amelia. I’ll allow your help in
the office. But that’s it. You can look through your father’s
records and files and see if you notice any strange paperwork or
odd spending patterns.” He lowered his hand to his thigh. “I’m too
busy helping the crew to do it myself.”

Unsure whether to trust him, Amelia studied
his face, but he seemed sincere. “You’ll have to tell me what I’m
looking for.”

“I’m stuck here until five o’clock and you
don’t seem in a hurry to go back home.”

Amelia ignored his hint to return to the
house. She was just as curious as Kyle was to know where her
father’s money had been going. “Why do you think something bad was
going on with Papa?”

“Experience. The whole situation at the mill
doesn’t make sense. I’ve learned not to take anything at face
value. That’s why I want you to look through his files.”

Amelia sat on her own chair, eager to learn
more about her husband, but aware that she was heading into
dangerous territory. The affair between Evelyn and Radford had
broken Kyle’s trust and shaded his thinking with cynicism.
Eventually her own secret would reinforce his cynical outlook on
life.

Kyle stretched his arms overhead and yawned,
then he propped his fists on his knees. “You ought to go home and
sleep another hour or two. I’ll pick you up later when I go to the
mill.”

“You have a bad habit of bossing people, you
know.”

“I know.”

His honesty made her smile. “Does anyone ever
disobey your orders?”

“My mother. The last time I made the mistake
of giving her an order, she smacked me across the head with her
newspaper and told me it was her damned house and that I was her
son not her boss.” Kyle snorted. “I haven’t mistaken my mother for
a mill hand since.”

“You’re lucky she only hit you with her paper
and not a rolling pin.”

“She saved that for Boyd.”

Knowing Boyd’s propensity for hell-raising,
Amelia had no trouble understanding why Nancy Grayson might need to
use her rolling pin to control her wild son. Their house must have
been filled with life, noise, and laughter. What a wonderful way to
live. “It must have been fun growing up with brothers,” Amelia
said, her voice wistful. “I’ll bet you got into tons of
trouble.”

“You can’t even imagine.”

Though his expression didn’t change, the
smile in his voice intrigued her. “What was the worst thing you
boys did?”

As if he were recalling some fond incident in
his past, Kyle’s lips quirked. “We had a horse-turd fight in the
barn.”

“You did not!”

“We did. The four of us were supposed to get
the barn cleaned before my aunt and uncle arrived from Buffalo.
Boyd was mad that he had to shovel stalls instead of going swimming
in the gorge with his friends so he slung a shovelful of dried crap
across the barn. Radford told him to knock it off, and I slapped
him on the head on my way to the next stall. When I bent over to
grab the handles of the wheelbarrow, Boyd dumped a whole load of
dung across my back. I returned the favor and all hell broke loose.
Next thing we knew, all four of us were winging dried turds at each
other. That’s when my father pulled in with my aunt and uncle.”

“Your parents must have been furious!” Amelia
said, laughter bubbling from her throat.

“They were, but Boyd got his wish to go
swimming. My mother sent us to the gorge to wash up.” Kyle met her
eyes, his own sparkling from the memory. “We had a ball that
afternoon.”

Loving this private side of Kyle, Amelia
linked her fingers and tucked her hands against her stomach. “How
wonderful it must have been to have brothers to fight with,” she
said, encouraging him to go on talking.

To her surprise, Kyle laughed an
honest-to-goodness laugh. “That’s all we ever did. We drove my
parents crazy.” As his smile faded, he searched her eyes. “What’s
it like to be an only child?”

“Lonely.” She didn’t even have to think about
it. It was dreadful not having someone to fight and laugh with. “I
always wanted a brother,” she said, surprising herself with her
confession.

“If I had known, I would have given you
Boyd.”

“No you wouldn’t,” she said with a laugh.
“Your life would have been too boring without Boyd around to
antagonize you.”

“Probably.”

“What is the craziest thing you’ve ever
done?” she asked, ignoring the slivers of morning light slipping
beneath the crack of the door. She wanted to hold on to the sudden
warmth she saw in Kyle’s eyes. She liked him like this.

“I rode my horse down Liberty Street in my
underwear because Evelyn stole my clothes.”

The image made Amelia laugh and she leaned
forward to ask what had happened, but the slow realization that
Kyle had been unclothed with Evelyn seeped into her mind and didn’t
feel funny at all. Amelia had never really thought about the
intimate side of Kyle’s relationship with Evelyn. Surely he’d
kissed her. Maybe they had done a lot more than that.

Her eyes met Kyle’s and curiosity overcame
propriety. “Do you still love her?”

“Yes.”

Pain coursed through Amelia and her chest
tightened. Of course he loved Evelyn. She had been the one to break
their engagement. Not Kyle. He’d
wanted
to marry
Evelyn.

“She’s been my friend since childhood.”

Amelia lowered her lashes to hide her
reaction. “You don’t have to explain. I love Evelyn, too.”

“It’s not—”

“What did Richard want when he came by the
house last evening,” she blurted before Kyle could embarrass her
with his explanation. It didn’t matter why he loved Evelyn. It only
mattered that he did.

Kyle blinked at her sudden change of topic.
“He came to invite us to supper.”

The breath left Amelia’s lungs and she sagged
back in her chair. Though Richard had only stayed a few minutes
last night before riding out of the yard with Kyle, Amelia had
hidden in the bedroom until they were gone. “You didn’t accept, did
you?”

“No. I invited him to our house instead.”

“You what?”

“I didn’t think you would mind. I was going
to tell you when I came home for breakfast this morning that
Richard would be coming to supper tonight.”

“I’m in mourning, Kyle. I can’t be hosting
supper parties.”

“It’s not a party. It’s just a private meal
with a close friend.”

“Oh, God.” Realizing she’d spoken aloud,
Amelia straightened up in her chair. “What will I make?”

“Anything. Don’t worry about it. It’s just
Richard. It’s no different than if you were cooking for me or one
of my brothers.”

It was worlds different, but Amelia kept her
anxiety to herself. “Is he bringing Catherine with him?” she asked,
praying Lucinda’s oldest sister would come and help lessen the
tension.

“I didn’t invite her.”

“Why not?”

“She’s Richard’s stepmother, not his
wife.”

“Well, they share the same house, Kyle.
Catherine will eat alone if Richard isn’t there. I’ll send her a
note today and ask her to come.”

Kyle opened his mouth, then clamped his jaw
shut.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“What’s wrong, Kyle?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you wearing that expression?”
He didn’t answer and Amelia’s stomach clenched. “Are you keeping
something from me that I should know?”

His eyes became dark wells of regret. The
pain in his expression was so raw it frightened her. God help him,
but whatever he was hiding, it was killing him. He swallowed and
his jaw flexed as if working to dredge the words up from his
soul.