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It didn’t take long before she found him near Sugar’s stall, sprawled face down on some loose hay.
For a second, intense emotion seized her. Evie shook with the force it. Although the desire to turn around and leave held strong appeal, she just couldn’t do that. She knelt down beside him, leaned in and whispered his name. He didn’t react. With both hands, she shook him, calling his name with force. As she half expected, Ben still didn’t respond.
Evie got to her feet and with some effort, rolled him onto his back. Shaggy brown hair fell across his face. She crouched down, reached out and swept the mass to one side. His familiar features stirred up a storm of conflicting emotions.
Tears burned her tired eyes. It’d been some time since they’d been affectionate, intimate and, unable to resist, her fingers ran down the side of his neck, a light caress. Scratches and purple bruises marred his skin. Her hand came back up to rest her palm on his cheek. As upset as she was, Evie savored this simple physical contact.
Caught up in the moment, his groan startled her. She gasped. A hand came up, covering hers. His eyes opened and sorrow pierced her. The amazing forest green eyes that had captured her fancy years ago were so bloodshot that it was painful to witness. A crooked smile spread across his face.
“Hey doll.” His voice was low and rough, yet almost playful.
Strong whiskey fumes slapped Evie, sparking her temper. She reared back as if physically struck. His hand dropped to his side when she pulled away. Words she’d mulled over for months were on the tip of her tongue, about to explode from her when she noticed he’d passed out again. An incoherent sound of pure frustration passed her lips.
Fuming, Evie started to rise, and then noticed a small bag at his side. She leaned over, picked it up and the weight made her stomach churn with nausea. Her hand opened, dropping it on the ground, its contents spilling out. There was no honest way for him to have that amount of coin.
Evie Rolfe sat back on her heels and looked at the mess that was her husband.
Ben’s shirt, ripped and stained, offered further evidence he’d been in another fight. It was hard to believe her husband had become this man. As she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, her mind drifted to the past, longing for the man of her memories.
One hot August night five years ago, a stranger had walked into a dance at her church. His stance radiated confidence. A crooked nose sat in a face of raw, rugged features that intrigued her. And as soon as he saw her, the man strode directly to her.
Easily towering over her by several inches, with broad shoulders and a wide, well built chest, he instantly made her feel protected.
“Dance with me.” His eyes, the deepest of green, charmed her. Her heart pounded. Without even asking his name, she’d given him her hand, captivated. In his arms, from the first moment, she’d felt a profound sense of belonging.
Daisy voiced loud displeasure, snapping her back to the present. Frustrated, Evie ignored the cow, instead reaching out to shake Ben awake and then stopped herself. She knew from experience that a few hours rest increased the odds that her husband would actually listen to her and last night’s events had made it clear that she needed him to hear what she had to say today. Terrifying memories snaked through her mind. Her hand shook as it hovered between them for a moment then dropped. The day had just begun. She’d let him sleep.
Evie stood, grabbed an old gray wool blanket they had for the horse, covered Ben with it and took one last look at him before going off to care for Daisy. Sun streamed in through the doorway, warming her while she milked. She had a difficult time focusing on the task though as her gaze kept wandering back to Ben.
The bond between them, frayed and strained, was not yet broken. Their damaged relationship left her emotions in a mess, and she couldn’t stop her thoughts from circling around the conversation to come.
When she turned the cow out to graze, the cloudless sky for once failed to boost her spirits. She continued with her chores, checking on Ben occasionally, but misery dogged her.The morning hours passed slowly. Desperate to stay busy she grabbed some laundry and headed down to the creek.
A pair of ravens glided in the cool breeze above her to perch on the upper branches of a maple tree. Evie knelt by the water, reached into the basket drawing out a red and black checked shirt. Tears began to well. Eyes closed, she buried her face in the flannel, breathing in the scent of pine and Ben.
She wondered how it was possible to miss a person with every fiber of your being when that person shared your home, your bed.
After a moment, Evie set the shirt aside and pulled out the rest of the washing. Her fingers, soon reddened from lye soap and aching from the icy water, brought painful but welcome distraction. Faint sounds of movement carried towards her on the breeze as she wrung the excess water from heavy wool. She looked up toward the cabin and caught a glimpse of her husband’s familiar form before he disappeared into the cabin. Although she wasn’t looking forward to his reaction, her conviction remained solid. The time had arrived for a tough discussion.
Nerves stretched taut, she waited for him to come to her.
Clear blue sky peeked through tree boughs that provided a generous amount of shade. She had rinsed her last item for several unnecessary minutes when the dull thuds of footsteps broke the peace. When he sounded close, she glanced back. The sight of him walking through the shadows of the trees caused a sweet flash of memory.
Ben had coaxed their wedding party outside that glorious spring day, with everything green or blooming. His good humor infectious, he’d claimed that nature’s beauty would bless their marriage. Eager to take on the world, life to him had been a grand adventure. As she walked to where he waited with the minister, beneath a canopy of branches, she’d fallen in love with him even more.
Ben stepped out of the shadows. The bittersweet echo of what had been faded. The years had fashioned clear changes. Scarred by hardship, his current expression was typical of the man she lived with now, hard and defensive. Pale from a certain hangover, his steps slow and measured, the contrast to the past wasn’t kind.
“Hey.” His voice was low and tense as he greeted her, stopping about a foot away.
Her fingers curled up in the soaked material she’d been washing. Ben stood so close if Evie stretched out an arm, she’d touch him. Emotions twisted in a knot, each breath shallow, painful, her head throbbed. She felt every inch of the small but deliberate distance he placed between them. The wounds of recent years were raw and her anger at his absence the previous night so fresh that for a second she had a childish urge to ignore him.
Instead, knowing that would solve nothing, she lifted her chin. “Benjamin,” she acknowledged, stating his name stiff and formal.
“I’m sorry.”
His gaze focused past her, his tone flat, the muttered apology didn’t move her. Evie looked down at the shirt in her hands. She twisted it, wringing out water. “No, you’re not.”
“You’re upset.
“Shouldn’t I be?”
Silence, heavy and expectant, hung between them. She didn’t offer her standard angry accusations or tearful pleas. They hadn’t made a difference before. The pattern remained the same. Her husband refused to alter it. She looked back up at him. Now, for better or worse, things would change.
Ben shrugged. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I mucked out the stalls.”
“Good.”
“And put the saddle in the barn.”
“Fine.”
“Brought in some firewood.”
“Okay.” Impatient, irritation crept into her voice.
“What do you want from me?” His gaze met hers for a split second before looking off into the distance again. “ You want me to say I’ll stop drinking?”
“No.” Ben looked back at her, his eyes wide, shocked. Pleased to have his complete attention, Evie was blunt. “I want you to not drink yourself into a stupor whenever life gets a little hard.”
“A little hard,” Ben bit out.
“Yes, like when we lost-”
“I’m not talking about our son now.”
Evie held his gaze, silent, until the ache in her chest subsided. “I wasn’t referring to James.”
“Good.”
“I meant when the Blakes’-”
“Stole my horses.”
“Well, you did catch them on their ranch and-”
“I didn’t know I was on their land.”
She gave him a soft-spoken reassurance. “I know.”
“Months of hard work gone.”
“I know.”
“Then you should understand.” Anger made his words harsh.
“I know it’ll be a struggle to recover, but it’s doable.”
Ben snorted. “Impossible.”
“As long as you continue down the path you’ve chosen, I agree.”
“What do you mean?” Tone wary, his eyes narrowed.
“Well, for one thing, you shouldn’t cheat our neighbors.”
“Excuse me.” His face a study of outrage but in his voice notes of defiance and satisfaction rang clear.
Evie stood. “You sold Spice.”
“We needed the money.” His gaze shifted, wouldn’t quite meet hers.
“You didn’t say he was only green broke and needed more training. That horse was nowhere near ready for a young rider to handle.”
He lifted one shoulder. “Let the buyer beware.”
A sick feeling settled in her gut. Evie shook the shirt she held out hard. To have a moment, steady her thoughts, she moved over to where the rest of her wet clothes hung and threw it over a free branch to dry. She drew in a breath then turned to face him again.
“Eddie Talbert was thrown.”
His face impassive, Ben didn’t say a word, showing no remorse. Her heart sank, but hope died hard and Evie prayed that some remnants of the man she’d married lay hidden under that brittle shell.
“He broke his arm.”
“He didn’t die.”
Stunned, she couldn’t hide her shock. “Ben.”
“What? I should feel sorry some little rich boy took a tumble?”
“Yes, you should, and accept responsibility for your part in it.”
“I didn’t put him on the horse.”
“No, but you didn’t tell-”
“Drop it.” His tone was now stone cold.
Evie held her temper in check, just. Her fingers curled so her nails bit into her palms. “Some of Talbert’s hands were here last night.”
“Oh?” He angled his face away. “What did they want?”
“A pound of flesh? I don’t know exactly but I think you should return Mr. Talbert’s money.”
“Too bad.”
“Ben they were six men - angry, armed, men. Nothing I said satisfied them. I went in the house, shoved the table in front of the door while they rode around outside shouting threats.”
“Just trying to frighten you.” Ben dismissed her words with a wave of his hand.
Her jaw dropped. She’d been scared out of her mind with good cause. Their homestead was a good hour from the town of Cedar Ridge, the nearest neighbor miles away, unspeakable things could happen to a woman alone out here. Ben knew that.
“Well, it worked. I was terrified long after they left, sat up all night with the rifle in my lap.”
“So you were fine.”
Her body went rigid with indignation. “I was not fine.” Her words were slow and precise, each one distinct. “You should have been home. I needed you.”
“I can’t be here to baby you all the time.”
“I don’t expect that.” Anger as bitter cold as the snowmelt fed creek she stood beside knotted her insides. “But when you kick up a hornet’s nest, you should face the consequences.”
“Fine, you made your point.” The cold, hard words, delivered without a trace of regret, shook her to the core. “I’m leaving. I’ve work to do.”
“Like you did last night? Tell me, what sort of horse training is done after dark?” Bitterness, sharp and painful, seasoned her words, crafted to provoke him.
“Don’t start in again.” His gaze locked on hers. “I have to support us.”
“There are other ways.”
“Which I tried, and they earned me a tiny cabin and an almost empty barn. There’s no reward for being good, doll.”
“How about honor and self respect?”
“I’d rather have the coin.”
“If you’re so pleased with this way of life why do you need to soak yourself in whiskey?”
I need a drink or two to unwind.”
“You were full as a tick when you finally came home.”
“That’s my business.”
Her jaw clenched. Evie looked down and brushed a bit of dust off her skirt. A breeze caressed her face, bringing the scents of moss and recent rain. “I don’t want to argue.”
“Good.”
“But-”
