“I do.” A few minutes later he drew comfort from the crackling of the flames as they licked at the branches he’d gathered, took gratification from watching as she leaned toward the fire she’d claimed not to need. “Faith—”
“I just wasn’t expecting you to grab me is all. It took me by surprise.”
“It was more than that, Faith. We’ve tugged each other under the water a thousand times.”
“We were children then. It’s been years. I’d just forgotten is all. It’s nothing. Let me have my clothes.”
He handed the bundle to her, watched as she simply clutched it as though it was a shield of armor designed to protect her from all dangers. Only then did he notice she’d moved his gun so it was resting beside her hip, within easy reach. She might as well have lifted it and fired a bullet into his chest. It would have hurt less than the knowledge she felt a need to defend herself against him. “You know I’d never hurt you,” he said quietly.
“I know.”
So much was beginning to make sense. Her loss of interest in the possibility of oil that had once excited her. The burned beginnings of her dream. Her refusal to marry the man who had gotten her with child. “The same can’t be said for Berringer, can it?”
Tears welled in her eyes as she held his gaze and shook her head.
“Tell me,” he said gently.
“I can’t.”
He understood too well the difficulty of talking about something so incredibly horrendous and personal. “Okay, but I gotta get you warm. Take another sip of the whiskey.”
Slowly, gingerly he moved around behind her, knelt, and began rubbing her arms through the quilt, creating friction and heat. She sighed, her muscles loosening as she began to relax.
“There’s a falling star,” he said to distract her. “Make a wish.”
“I wish I could forget.”
His heart nearly shattered with the sadness of her tone. “I know. But you can’t.”
She shook her head, then nodded as though confused by what her response should be. Settling down onto his backside, he brought her back against his chest and closed his arms around her.
“It’s been so long since I’ve let anyone hold me,” she said.
“If you don’t want me to, I’ll back away.”
“No, it’s nice. I can feel your warmth even through the quilt. It’s better than the fire.”
“You were always more skilled at building fires than I was.”
She gave a little snort of laughter, settled into silence. He waited, just waited, loathing himself for not being here when she’d needed him.
“I liked him,” she whispered in a raspy voice. “A lot. He charmed Ma and Pa. Charmed me. He was spending a lot of time at the house. Everyone figured eventually we’d tie the knot, that soon he’d ask Pa for my hand and his blessing. He’d gotten permission to take me to dinner in town. In the hotel dining room. You know how fancy it is, how eating there makes people feel special. Two bottles of wine later we were heading home, and I was so relaxed, so happy. He drove us out to the drilling site. We walked around for a while, talking about dreams. Then we started kissing. We’d kissed a few times before, but that night it was different. He wanted more, but I wasn’t ready for that. But he wouldn’t listen. He just took.”
He tightened his arms around her, wanting to take away the painful memory, then loosened them, so she wouldn’t feel threatened. He was searching for words, but all the ones in his vocabulary seemed far too insignificant to express how much he ached for her and what she’d suffered.
“He drove me home like nothing had happened, like he’d done nothing wrong.”
“Did he go to prison?”
Her laugh was harsh, filled with pain and hurt. “I had no way to prove he forced himself on me. He was careful not to tear my clothes. Just shoved up my skirts. I had a few bruises where he held me down. Besides, they don’t send men to prison for rape.”
The harsh word—so small for an action so monstrous—was a kick to his gut.
“They would have argued I had loose morals or found some other excuse,” she continued. “I often wear pants. How unladylike is that? To be honest, I’d rather face a charging steer than a courtroom full of people judging me with censure written all over their faces as I was forced to tell them the details of what happened. Only Ma and Pa know. The family believes I was susceptible to his charms and he took advantage. Everyone else thinks I was just naughty.”
“But Berringer left.”
She nodded. “Pa made him. I don’t know exactly how. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted him gone, and Pa said he’d take care of it.”
