"I admit I acted silly, and I'm sorry."
Heston brought his head up in surprise. "You're apologizing?"
Lenore couldn't swallow the giggle that escaped. "Yes." She smiled. "Isn't that what one does when they realize they're wrong?"
She stared at his riveting green eyes as he rose to stand beside her. Would their intoxicating draw always make it this hard to stay mad at him?
She watched his eyes swirl with the thoughts he now juggled. Had he never learned to apologize? What was he thinking? Would it be impossible to hope he wanted to take back his rude retorts as well?
The flap of the wagon pulled back as her father helped Zoey step down. Whatever Heston had been tempted to share, the moment of truth was now over. She started toward her step-mother at the same time Heston reached for her hand. The feel of his rough fingers as they slid across her skin sent sparks traveling up her arm. Lenore stopped and looked over her shoulder. The side of his mouth pulled at the corner, giving him a sly look. His darkened gaze attested he felt it too.
Lenore's stomach tightened. If her guess was right, nature had set its course.
Chapter Seven
Heston watched as Lenore embraced her fragile step-mother. The Lord had been looking over more than just he and Lenore. It seemed as if his tonic had arrived just in time. He concentrated his efforts back to the melting snow.
Castle left the women arguing over Zoey being outside and strode to Heston's side. "Son, there's no need to melt snow, I have plenty of water."
Son – Had Lenore already informed her father? Heston stole a quick glance in her direction. She caught his gaze and shook her head. Heston cleared his throat and turned back to Castle. "The water needs to boil for the tonic. Then she'll have to drink it while it's still fairly warm."
"I reckon you arrived just in time." Castle looked him square in the eye.
Heston nodded. "Yes, sir."
Castle continued to eye him. "How'd Lenore find you?"
He knew it was coming, he'd just hope to be offered something warm to eat before anyone's anger forced him and Lenore to leave. And he would leave with her–not without.
"Actually, Sir, I found her."
Castle raised his eyebrows. His lips formed to ask his next question, but Lenore called for his assistance.
"Father, will you help Zoey back inside, she's too weak to climb the steps."
"I'm coming." He started away then called over his shoulder to Heston. "Come on in when you have that finished. And plan on bunking with us for the night."
Castle hurried to Zoey's side. Heston figured if it weren't for his bad hip, Castle would have picked her up and carried her. Together, they entered the wagon with Lenore and her brother following behind.
Heston finished the tonic and stopped outside the wagon. "Castle, the tonic's ready."
The canvas flap opened and Castle waved him inside. "Go ahead and get her started."
Heston stepped around the crowded interior and knelt beside Zoey. "This is a trusted Indian remedy. But I warn you, it doesn't taste good."
***
The night wore on as Heston lay awake listening to Zoey's labored breathing return to normal. The tonic had worked.
He rolled over on the thin mat, realizing there wasn't a comfort to find. His thoughts flew to Lenore, where they often were. Was she also still awake? Castle had positioned his daughter as far away from the newcomer as he could. Little did her father know that in another day they'd be sharing the same bed.
He finally succumbed to sleep but only until the first ray of sunlight hit the snow. He shivered from the morning air as it crept in under the canvas then crawled out to search his pack for coffee and dried venison. The fire started easily in the pit with the help of the pine knot kindling he always packed. Lenore emerged from the wagon, radiant as ever. Her smile revealed her pleasure at finding him awake. She made her way to his side and held her hands toward the flame.
"Did you sleep well?"
Heston sighed, he never was one for small talk. "Does it matter?"
A sharp turn of Lenore's head revealed her disapproval. "Do you always wake up nasty or is it too much to hope it's from sleeping in a wagon?"
He crooked a grin and offered her a sip of coffee.
"Thank you. And thank you for helping Zoey. Her breathing improved so much throughout the night."
Heston reached for his cup, trapping her hand beneath his. "So you didn’t sleep much either. Care to tell me why?"
Lenore blinked several times but didn't speak. The desire to kiss her pouty lips grew until he knew he had to distance himself. He couldn't start that type of intimacy . . . not yet.
"I'm going hunting." He strode toward his horse, intent on retrieving his gun.
"I'll go too."
Heston stopped and turned around. "I plan on shooting something, Lenore. Like a pretty, little deer."
She threw her fist on her hip. "Don't patronize me. It's not the shooting of the deer that upset me." She stalked off toward the fire.
Heston sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He should have been relieved he could hunt on his own, but he wasn’t. That had been part of the appeal to having Lenore as his wife. She could hunt with him. By his side. As his help-meet.
He gave in to the urge to follow her. "What bothered you then?"
Lenore gave a start at his presence but kept her back to him. "Leave me alone."
He softened his voice and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'm your husband, Lenore. You're my wife. I don't want to repeat whatever it is I've done wrong. Help me understand."
Lenore turned, but kept her eyes cast down. "You gave no thought to my feelings. And before you call me a silly woman, you need to understand there is a difference between a man and a woman."
"You were enjoying the scene, and I should have been more thoughtful."
Her eyes widened as she looked up. "Yes. That's right."
Heston nodded his understanding. He'd been wrong to not consider her feelings. She wasn't at all silly. She was beautiful and smart and appreciated God's creation. "I'm sorry. Will you still hunt with me?"
Chapter Eight
Lenore followed Heston through the deep snow. Once she stumbled and would have fallen but caught herself against his firm back. Her entire body tingled from the contact. Her hand was now encased in his, at Heston's request.
He stole a look in her direction. She pretended not to notice. Holding hands caused enough emotion to deal with. If he tried to kiss her . . . she paled at the thought.
"Are you feeling okay? You're not having second thoughts are you?"
Lenore met his concerned gaze. His eyes said more than words could have. "No, not about hunting . . . and not about you."
Relief flooded his eyes. Her heart warmed that he cared what she thought of him. She smiled and felt his thumb rake against the top of her hand sending butterflies swirling in her abdomen. Then his lips were covering hers in a soft embrace. Lenore felt herself give back equally as much. Kissing wasn't something to be feared, it captured a beauty that up until now, she had never known.
An hour later, Lenore carried Heston's shotgun over her shoulder and followed behind as he drug the small doe to the wagon. They didn't have to go far to find a herd. Castle strode toward them from the fire pit. His face wore a mask of worry and wonderment.
"Heston. Lenore." He scratched his head. "I had wondered where you two had gone."
Lenore gave her father a kiss on the cheek, making sure to rub her cold nose against him. "Heston helped me shoot it, Father!"
Her father rubbed the chill she'd left on his skin and looked at her with wide eyes. "Really?" His voice took on a more serious tone as he turned to face Heston. "Why don't you help me with this wheel, then you can be on your way."
"Father, that's no way to be after Heston brought you this meat."
"We have enough, Lenore, and it's time we got back on the trail."
Lenore met Heston's gaze, and though she spoke to h
er father, she kept her eyes on her husband. He would steady her through what had to be said.
"Father, I won't be going with you."
Castle stepped in front of her, blocking Heston from view. "Don't talk foolishness, Lenore. Unless something forbidden has happened, I suggest you not say another word and climb into that wagon."
Lenore searched for the right words. She didn't want to hurt her father, she loved him too much. But something else was stirring her heart, and it wasn't her father. God grant me wisdom.
"Castle, Lenore's now my wife. We married before setting out to help you."
All color drained from Castle's face. "No," he whispered, "no, Lenore wouldn't do that."
His eyes hardened as he looked from his daughter to the man he now held with contempt. "Unless she was coerced."
"Father–"
"Get in the wagon, Lenore." He held a stern gaze on Heston. "The men need to talk."
Lenore dropped her head and nodded in compliance. She stepped around her father and paused at Heston's side. Her eyes trailed from his face up to his unruly crop of red hair, bringing a smile to her lips.
She placed a hand on his arm and whispered, "Remember, whoever guards his mouth and tongue, keeps his soul from trouble."
Heston covered her hand with his and gave a quick squeeze. The small gesture steeled her against her father's disapproval and lent hope to her heart.
Grateful to warm herself inside the wagon, Lenore didn't mind the order to go inside. Holding her hands toward the pot-bellied stove, she feigned ignorance at her step-mother's questioning stare and relished the heat as it brought feeling back to her fingers.
Her brother asked through a mouthful of cornbread, "Where were you this morning, Sis?"
"I shot my first deer with Heston." She tried not to let pride seep through her voice, but the excitement she experienced over her accomplishment still hadn't calmed.
Raised voices from the men, reached through the canvas. Lord, please help Heston remember the verse I quoted. Help him control his temper. And please comfort my father. She knew her family would have a hard time accepting her marriage, though she no longer did. Life had just taken on a new purpose.
"Lenore," Zoey's voice broke through Lenore's thoughts, just as she began to picture what daily life with Heston would entail. "Why don't you share with me what all the fuss is over between the men?"
She swallowed and ran her tongue over dry lips. Her step-mother's voice was much stronger than yesterday. Although Lenore was thankful for Zoey's improved health, her tone signaled more trouble. Looking from her brother to Zoey, Lenore explained, "The sleeve of my coat got caught in an animal trap when I went for help. Heston found me and brought me to his cabin."
Lenore hadn't considered how hard it would be to actually say good-bye to her loved ones. The thought caused her eyes to pool with tears. Zoey took it for something else and clamored to her side.
"Oh, you poor, dear. How could he?" She wrapped her arms around Lenore. "He seemed like such a nice man."
Lenore wiggled loose of Zoey's embrace and scrunched her brows as she looked at her. A half laugh escaped as she realized the path Zoey's thoughts had taken. "No, Zoey. Nothing bad happened. I only got teary-eyed when I realized I'd have to say good-bye."
"Why would you say good-bye? To us?"
"Yes, I'm married now. I married Heston before we brought you the wheels but not because anything happened like what you thought. Nothing has."
Zoey bent her head closer to keep her words from her son's young ears. "You mean the marriage hasn't been consummated?"
Lenore shook her head then watched as her step-mother rose and stepped outside.
Chapter Nine
Moments later, Zoey reentered the wagon with Castle behind her. Lenore shrunk from the determined atmosphere surrounding her father. He stood over her with hands fisted at his sides. Lenore lifted her head and watched his anger fall away like snowflakes.
She rose to explain and found herself embraced in his burly arms.
"The Lord is good, Lenore." He squeezed her tight.
A gladness rose in her like peace. Her father had accepted Heston.
Castle's voice sounded near her ear. "The marriage hasn't been consummated, you don't have to go back with him. We'll find a way around this."
Lenore's hope proved fleeting as spring. She stumbled backward. "Father, I married him on my own free will."
"He told me about his inheritance."
"But I'm now his wife–"
"Daughter," he used the term reserved for when he disagreed with her opinion or actions. "You don't know what you're talking about. You were tricked into this by a selfish individual."
Images of her first night with Heston flipped through her mind like pages of a book. Heston squatted in front of her rubbing her feet, to him losing his temper, and finally lingering on him holding the lantern so they could better see one another. It was then that something had changed. Something within her, a fluttering sensation . . . "I think we could get along okay, don't you?" Heston's confident voice called out to her.
"Lenore."
She turned toward the opening, it wasn't just her memories. Heston was calling for her even now. "I wasn't tricked, Father. Heston has been honest with me from the start."
"Then why didn't you say no? You could have gotten help from someone in that town of his." Her father's voice held the plea of a child. He wasn't ready to let her go. Time was against them all.
Lenore placed a gentle hand on his arm. "What would that extra time have cost you, Father?" Her eyes settled on Zoey.
Castle did the same. The love he and Zoey shared was evident for Lenore to see. She reached for both of their hands and joined them together. "Heston allowed God to work through him. You may not want to see it now, but in time, I think you will."
Henry came to stand by her side. Her little brother's child-like faith revealed itself through his words. "I know you have to leave, Sis. But I like Heston, and he'll bring you to visit."
"That's right. I will." Heston emerged through the canvas flap. "I realize you don't think much of me right now, Castle, but if I'm to keep your daughter safe, we'll need to get started back soon or nightfall will catch us."
The sight of Heston sent an electric warmth through Lenore's veins. Was this what Father felt toward Zoey?
***
Heston smiled at the young bride seated on a mare by his side. After only a few tears, she'd been ready to be on their way. She already amazed him. Her father, though still upset, had accepted what he couldn't undo. As Heston had helped change the wheel of the wagon, Castle even shared the marital advice he'd stored up for Lenore's future husband.
He looked from Heston's red hair to his face. "You remember the smallest man has the biggest anger. Make sure you always stand tall."
Heston nodded thoughtfully. "That's good advice, sir."
Encouraged, Castle had continued. "Ask you wife for counsel. And don't let your pride keep you from welcoming her judgment."
The advice was worthy of remembrance, and so was the example of acceptance shown by Lenore's parents. Perhaps he and Lenore would visit in the spring, but from the glowing look of his bride, she didn't seem to be in a hurry.
Heston reached out to touch her hand. Her smile squeezed his heart. Was he already in love? He considered the implication and saw no reason to fight against it. The happiness she'd brought him in only three days was worth all the love he could give.
The noon sun sparkled against the snow, making their path treacherous in places. Lenore's horse snorted and tossed her head, disgruntled as her front legs sunk in knee–deep snow. They'd been riding steady all morning. It was time for a break.
Heston steered them toward a small stand of trees. After dismounting, he tied the horses and mule then helped Lenore down from her mount. A slight gasp escaped her lips at their close encounter. Heston allowed his hands to linger on her waist longer than necessary. Lenore's eyes darkened, that was
all the invitation he needed. Bending his head toward hers, he was surprised when her lips met him halfway.
Lost in a world of their own, moments passed before Lenore's horse stomped her feet and shied away. With the loss of their support, they both tumbled into the snow. Lenore's laughter bubbled forth from her like the end of a waterfall. Heston admired her rosy cheeks and just-kissed lips. "Thank you, Lenore."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "For what?"
"For marrying me."
A distant shot rang in the air. Quick to rise, Heston helped Lenore to her feet.
"Did that come from my family?" Worry filled her eyes.
"No." Heston stared through the snow-laden trees. "Someone's helping themselves to my – to our traps."
Chapter Ten
Lenore expected Heston to reach for his gun, instead he opened the pack on the mule and offered her dried venison and apples. She cocked her head to the side, "I don't understand."
"It won't do any good to get in a hurry. They're too far away and we'd only risk injury to the horses or ourselves." Heston leaned against the tree Lenore shared and took her hand in his. "Shall we pray?"
At her nod, he began, "Father, we ask You to bless this food to our bodies and guide us safely home. And for the unsaved soul who's robbing our traps, please blanket his spirit with Yours. Amen."
Lenore stood too stunned to eat. "You asked prayer for the man who's stealing from you."
"How else is he going to recognize his wrongs?"
Lenore bit into her apple and considered his statement. It would seem she could learn from Heston. She glanced back and saw the firm set of his jaw and the deepening frown on his face. And perhaps she could encourage him to control his growing anger.
Heston pushed off from the tree. "If we get started now and cut out checking the traps, we should catch him at the trail head."
Lenore said nothing. Would God protect them and keep Heston's anger under control?
***
The mule stumbled and jerked the lead rope attached to Heston's saddle horn whipping it against his leg. Heston swallowed the urge to yell at the animal. Stand tall. Castle's advice rung in his ears. He allowed his father-in-law's wisdom to control his anger. It was Heston's own fault. He'd pushed them hard.