Chapter 14 #2
Her hand warmed my sleeve and I didn’t know how to remove it. She caught me staring at it and wetted her full lower lip. It was a simple movement—I shouldn’t have even noticed it. But I did, and I was worried it was going to be one more thing I thought of when Miss Blackwell came to mind.
“Stay, Captain,” she said softly again, and something quickened in my chest. She leaned closer to me and her mouth turned up in a grin.
I glanced at Charlie, but his eyes were still closed, and the waterfall drowned out the sounds of our exchange.
“I can’t be at ease if I don’t know where you are. And this is a place for resting.”
I furrowed my brows. The general had an absolute firebrand for a daughter.
She shouldn’t say such things to a man she barely knew, especially when she didn’t mean them.
“You can’t . . . ” I started and then I paused, because of course she couldn’t.
She knew if I left here, it would be to find Harriet.
And Miss Blackwell may think of me as a good soldier, but I wasn’t a good enough man to even be given a chance at her cousin’s heart.
But I already owned it, didn’t I?
Or at least, I thought I had. Each day I spent in Harriet’s company, I’d become less certain.
With an eye on her hand still on my arm, I settled back down.
She smiled at my acquiescence and, once again, I was struck by how similar, and yet different, she was from Harriet.
Harriet’s smiles had softened me like honey in the sunshine—they were warm and straightforward.
Miss Blackwell’s smiles were complex, riddled with plots and secrets that I didn’t think I would ever understand.
Thankfully, I preferred a life simple and straightforward. Any man who ended up with Miss Blackwell would need to learn to sleep with one eye open.
She let go of my arm and folded her hands together at her waist, once again leaning her head back and closing her eyes. It was such a vulnerable position. Somehow she was comfortable allowing me to sit by her—watch her, even—while she enjoyed it.
My life would have been much simpler if Miss Blackwell hadn’t been in that croft that night.
My eyes trailed down her face to her neck and from her neck to her collar bone.
Less than half an inch of that pale brushstroke of skin showed at the edge of her gown.
If I hadn’t seen the whole of it, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed the slight change in color.
That spot of skin was one more secret I kept about her.
How many secrets would the two of us have before these three weeks were out?
Before she’d taken a dislike to me, she had warmed me with a fire, given me her clothing, and stayed with me at one of my worst times.
Despite all of her manipulations, seeing her like this—seeing the beginning of that mark on her skin—reminded me of the woman I’d woken up to.
Where had that woman gone? I wanted to thank her.
Charlie cleared his throat. He was no longer leaning back, but was glancing at me from around Miss Blackwell. “It doesn’t work if you are staring at my sister.” Miss Blackwell’s mouth ticked up, but she didn’t open her eyes or glance at me, thank the heavens.
“I wasn’t staring,” I hissed at him.
“Just close your eyes and listen,” Charlie said with a huff that made it perfectly clear I hadn’t understood the sacredness of this space and I was soon going to be thrown out of it completely.
Only a moment ago, I’d wanted nothing more than to leave, but on the threat of being forced away, I immediately leaned back and closed my eyes in imitation of the siblings.
My muscles were tense, and my mind raced with the thoughts of the woman sitting beside me. I hadn’t been staring at her, had I? Why would I do that?
I’d made a plan six years ago and so far I’d accomplished every part. I had even exceeded my expectations with my success in the army. There was only one step left and it should have been the easiest one.
Marry Harriet and bring her home to Applewood.
But I was being distracted by a waterfall and a woman who had asked me to stay with her, even though I was fairly certain she didn’t care for me at all. But leaving someone when they asked me to stay was something I could never do.
I took a deep breath and folded my hands over my waist as Miss Blackwell had done. Perhaps it was time I thought a little less and simply listened to the world around me.
The rushing and splashing of water made for a loud kind of silence, the rumble so constant it eventually drowned out my own thoughts.
I inhaled again, slower this time. There was dampness and earth in the air in addition to that haunting hint of citrus, and I allowed it to envelop me.
The sounds had seemed steady before, but when I listened closer, there were nuances to it—splashes that came and went without a pattern, a gentle melody that never repeated but was always the same. There was music in this place.
It was much too loud to hear the breathing of Miss Blackwell next to me, but I could hear my own breaths deepening and slowing until it felt as though all three of us must be sharing the same rhythm, a slow, steady thrum to accompany the pealing water behind us.
I sunk deeper into the bench, deeper into the soil at my feet, deeper into this land of theirs, this place of so many shared memories.
Time and all my concerns surrounding it slipped away.
After what could have been five minutes or twenty, Miss Blackwell shifted beside me.
Her movement caused her arm to brush against mine.
I stilled and waited for her to pull it away, but she didn’t.
She must not have even noticed the small connection, but all of the focus I’d let slip away while listening to the waterfall returned full force and concentrated on the place where our arms met.
Her touch mingled with the romantic breath of this shaded nook and sent a thrill of sensation humming up my arm.
My breathing stuttered to a halt. I’d lost the rhythm, thrust out of this moment by a very unwelcome awareness of the woman sitting so blissfully unaware beside me.
One by one, my muscles seized up again until my body was so rigid I felt as though I was blaspheming the calming influence of this hallowed setting.
I carefully uncrossed my arms, moving slowly away from Miss Blackwell in hopes of going unnoticed.
I kneaded my forehead and then leaned my head back again, but I couldn’t get back to the place I’d been only moments before—not with Miss Blackwell still so close to me.
I inched even farther from her and stood up.
Charlie and Miss Blackwell blinked up at me, their eyes hazy and confused at the abrupt disruption of their peace. “Pardon me,” I said stiffly. “I’m going to continue my walk.”
This time, neither of them tried to stop me.
Instead they only stared at me quietly as if they couldn’t quite understand my words, or more likely couldn’t understand why I would be in a rush.
But then Miss Blackwell gave me a short nod, and I took advantage of it, turning to leave before she or Charlie decided to pull me into another moment with them.
I drew in a shaky but deep breath the moment a streak of sunlight touched my skin, pulling me completely away from that veiled piece of familial Eden. Someday, I would have places like that with Harriet and my children. Someday I might even be able to share them with May and Arthur.
But today that was a space for the Blackwell family, and I was done intruding upon it. I was done borrowing a feeling when I wanted to own it for myself.
And I would not add the feeling of Miss Blackwell’s arm resting against my own to my growing list of memories that plagued me whenever she was near.