bit more intensity.
There wasn’t much to see, just the house, white with new green
trim paint, and the carriage house, which held the milk cow, a few chickens and
other necessities. Most people called it a barn, but mother had always insisted
it was a carriage house. It was her connection to back East. Ester liked the
idea of that, and had painted it to match the house just a few weeks ago.
When his brown eyes turned her way again, her entire being
stung as memories started coming fast and forceful. “They moved to Des Moines
shortly after the fire,” she answered quickly. “I’m sorry about your parents. I
truly am. They were good people and are terribly missed.”
The pain that momentarily took over Brett’s face had her
flinching inside. She wanted to go to him, comfort him for his loss, but that
would tell him how much she still loved him and might break her at the same
time. “The children will be home this evening if you’d like to stop back to see
them then. After supper will be fine.” She spun, prepared to walk into the
house, yet her legs didn’t want to move.
“I’m not here to see them, Ester. I’m here to collect
them.”
Lifting feet that seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each, she
made it as far as the screen door before telling him, “They’re thirteen and
fifteen years old now, Brett, and have a say in their lives.”
“They’re my brother and sister, and they’ll do as I say.”
Her eyes did close this time, and she swallowed. “If you cared
so much about them, why haven’t they seen you for five years?” Deep down she was
screaming, Why haven’t I seen you for five years? but she couldn’t ask that. Furthermore she knew why. A man doesn’t leave a woman
he loves, nor does he contact one he doesn’t love.
The screen door didn’t bang behind her, but she didn’t need the
sound to know he was right on her heels. The racing of her heart said that,
which is why she didn’t stop until she’d crossed the parlor and turned the
corner into the kitchen, where she went straight to the sink, only to feel a bit
thwarted since there were no dishes to wash—nothing to busy herself so she could
tell him she had things to do.
She spun, preparing to ask him to leave, but found herself
groping for the counter behind her with both hands, needing the support to stay
upright as he took one final step.
Both of his palms landed on the counter, too, smack-dab between
her hands and her hips, trapping her, shrouding her with the scent of horse,
leather, and him. That wonderful, irresistible aroma a hundred years couldn’t
have erased from her memory.
“I’m thinking, since you already hate me, what I’m about to do
isn’t going to make a whit of difference either way,” he said.
A jolt flashed through her, like lightning had just struck the
ground where she stood, with enough force to crack a mighty oak into splinters,
and then, warm and soft, his lips took hers. The kiss was so overwhelming, her
very bones melted and she gripped the counter harder. She’d always loved kissing
him. There wasn’t a better feeling in the world. But right now she refused to
allow her arms to lift, wrap around him and hold on for dear life as she used to
do. For if she did, she’d be lost, and that she’d regret. He’d left her once
before, this unfathomable hero, and her heart couldn’t live through it a second
time.
Too soon the kiss was over, leaving her weak and trembling. She
didn’t dare open her eyes. He’d see into her very soul. Know exactly how she
felt.
“I’ll be back after supper.”
Ester didn’t move, not so much as an eyelid, until the front
screen door banged shut, and then she turned, hung her head over the sink and
took stuttering gasps of air, aghast at the way her soul shouted, He’s back! He’s back! She clenched her hands into
fists, trying to muster the ability to hate him. It was her only choice. He’d
left her—she had to remember that. And waltzing in here,
There wasn’t much to see, just the house, white with new green
trim paint, and the carriage house, which held the milk cow, a few chickens and
other necessities. Most people called it a barn, but mother had always insisted
it was a carriage house. It was her connection to back East. Ester liked the
idea of that, and had painted it to match the house just a few weeks ago.
When his brown eyes turned her way again, her entire being
stung as memories started coming fast and forceful. “They moved to Des Moines
shortly after the fire,” she answered quickly. “I’m sorry about your parents. I
truly am. They were good people and are terribly missed.”
The pain that momentarily took over Brett’s face had her
flinching inside. She wanted to go to him, comfort him for his loss, but that
would tell him how much she still loved him and might break her at the same
time. “The children will be home this evening if you’d like to stop back to see
them then. After supper will be fine.” She spun, prepared to walk into the
house, yet her legs didn’t want to move.
“I’m not here to see them, Ester. I’m here to collect
them.”
Lifting feet that seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each, she
made it as far as the screen door before telling him, “They’re thirteen and
fifteen years old now, Brett, and have a say in their lives.”
“They’re my brother and sister, and they’ll do as I say.”
Her eyes did close this time, and she swallowed. “If you cared
so much about them, why haven’t they seen you for five years?” Deep down she was
screaming, Why haven’t I seen you for five years? but she couldn’t ask that. Furthermore she knew why. A man doesn’t leave a woman
he loves, nor does he contact one he doesn’t love.
The screen door didn’t bang behind her, but she didn’t need the
sound to know he was right on her heels. The racing of her heart said that,
which is why she didn’t stop until she’d crossed the parlor and turned the
corner into the kitchen, where she went straight to the sink, only to feel a bit
thwarted since there were no dishes to wash—nothing to busy herself so she could
tell him she had things to do.
She spun, preparing to ask him to leave, but found herself
groping for the counter behind her with both hands, needing the support to stay
upright as he took one final step.
Both of his palms landed on the counter, too, smack-dab between
her hands and her hips, trapping her, shrouding her with the scent of horse,
leather, and him. That wonderful, irresistible aroma a hundred years couldn’t
have erased from her memory.
“I’m thinking, since you already hate me, what I’m about to do
isn’t going to make a whit of difference either way,” he said.
A jolt flashed through her, like lightning had just struck the
ground where she stood, with enough force to crack a mighty oak into splinters,
and then, warm and soft, his lips took hers. The kiss was so overwhelming, her
very bones melted and she gripped the counter harder. She’d always loved kissing
him. There wasn’t a better feeling in the world. But right now she refused to
allow her arms to lift, wrap around him and hold on for dear life as she used to
do. For if she did, she’d be lost, and that she’d regret. He’d left her once
before, this unfathomable hero, and her heart couldn’t live through it a second
time.
Too soon the kiss was over, leaving her weak and trembling. She
didn’t dare open her eyes. He’d see into her very soul. Know exactly how she
felt.
“I’ll be back after supper.”
Ester didn’t move, not so much as an eyelid, until the front
screen door banged shut, and then she turned, hung her head over the sink and
took stuttering gasps of air, aghast at the way her soul shouted, He’s back! He’s back! She clenched her hands into
fists, trying to muster the ability to hate him. It was her only choice. He’d
left her—she had to remember that. And waltzing in here,
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