CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN #3
Deckard had used excuse after excuse to justify their marriage.
He needed Hewitt to help fulfill his volunteer quota.
He wanted to help Evylin achieve her dreams. It was the only way to save his career.
It was the right thing to do. Only after their marriage had he been honest with himself: He’d married her because he wanted her.
Evylin Glaas, the village girl with a quick wit, a ready smile, and a deep desire for more from the world, was the first woman he’d ever truly believed could be enough. And he wasn’t willing to let such a chance slip through his fingers.
“I did know,” Deckard admitted. “I just didn’t want to believe it.”
Hewitt stood in the trees, glaring at him. “And now,” he said in a growl, “he knows that your marriage is legally breakable.”
Deckard raised his chin, the sharp tingle of worry trickling down his spine. He turned back to Rafferty. “I’ve sent him away with her. Thom knows that our marriage isn’t legitimate, and I’ve given him the perfect opportunity to make his feelings known.”
Rafferty gave him a wry stare. “Why do you think I told him not to do anything I wouldn’t?”
Deckard lifted his brow. “Says the man who doesn’t believe in monogamous relationships.”
“Hey!” Rafferty pointed at his chest. “I may be a scoundrel, but even I wouldn’t boff my brother’s wife.”
The thought sent anger, fear, and heartache through Deckard’s chest.
“Besides,” Rafferty waved his hand, “Evie wouldn’t go for it.”
“You aren’t my brother.”
“No, you dunce, I’m not talking about her and me. Even if Thom plucked up the courage to reveal his feelings to her, she wouldn’t go for it.”
Doubt crept over Deckard’s skin like the mosquitoes of the marshes, sapping his body of its vigor.
Evylin had already rejected Deckard, asking for an annulment.
She had to know that once he gave it to her, the only thing stopping her father from recalling her home would be marriage to another.
Was it possible that she’d accept a marriage proposal from Thom?
They’d always been better friends, training and laughing together easily.
Rafferty said it himself: Evylin confided in Thom.
If she wanted to be free of Deckard, was it possible that it was due to a secret love for his brother?
“She doesn’t want him,” Hewitt said, breaking into the panicked spiral of Deckard’s thoughts. “She wants you.”
“You don’t know that,” Deckard muttered.
“I’m telling you, Colonel,” Rafferty replied, believing the response was for him.
“You may be too thick to see it, but I’m a smuggler.
It’s my job to see what others don’t. If I fail at that, I lose my neck, understand?
I don’t miss things. And I’ve seen how Evie is with you and how she is with Thom.
She loves you both but in drastically different ways. ”
Deckard stared at Rafferty with hopeful interest. “You’re sure?”
“Trust me,” Rafferty said with a sly grin. “Eve likes to bait you. She’s constantly seeking your attention. She doesn’t do that with anyone else, especially not with Thom.
“If Thom works up the gumption to speak,” he continued, “it’ll be the worst choice he’s ever made. She’ll reject him, plain and simple, and it’ll ruin their friendship. It’s your britches she’s interested in, not his.”
Deckard couldn’t decide whether to feel embarrassed or emboldened by the statement. Still, Evylin’s request for an annulment lingered in his mind.
“She’s afraid.”
“Of me?”
“Of loving you back.”
As his silence lingered, Rafferty rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t care if you believe me,” he said flippantly. “Quite frankly, I think you’re all idiots.”
“Agreed,” Hewitt said from the trees.
Nudging his horse onward, Rafferty kept up his chatter.
“Your petty arguments and insecure romances are my entertainment. This whole trip has been a slog, but watching you lovesick lot bandying about has made for an amusing show. The only thing more interesting would be if you’d get your affairs in order and start locking lips in camp. Now, that’d be a show.”
Ignoring the weasel’s jabbering, Deckard glanced toward Hewitt’s ghost. He stood on a small embankment, the marsh water lapping at its edge.
His arms were crossed, and his steely gaze was sharp.
Through the whole conversation, he’d shown no surprise.
The news of Thom’s feelings didn’t seem to startle him as it should.
Rafferty’s revelation wasn’t a surprise to the ghost; that much was clear to Deckard.
Lagging behind just long enough to let Rafferty ride ahead, Deckard spurred his horse forward. The water sloshed around its legs. As Deckard passed the embankment, he whispered, “We need to talk.”
Hewitt dipped his head in agreement. “We certainly do.”
Looking toward the inlet, Deckard saw Auden waiting expectantly by the campfire. After his extended practice with Rafferty, there would be no escaping for the rest of the evening. And Deckard still didn’t trust talking with Hewitt while the others slept.
No, he couldn’t sneak off tonight, but he wouldn’t wait long either.
“Tomorrow,” he promised, both to himself and to the ghost.
Tomorrow, Deckard would hear what Hewitt had to say. He would learn why the man had chosen to keep this secret. And he would decide what to do about his brother.