He nodded. “He ran when he heard Richard scream.”
“Why did ye invite him to yer house for Christmas?”
“Mother did that. She assumed I’d want to see all my old friends. In fact, I only wanted to see ye.”
She paused. Her storm-blue eyes riveted their gaze to his. “Me?”
He stepped closer. So close that he could have wrapped her into the circle of his arms.
She didn’t move.
“Ye are the only true friend—except for Jacob—that I ever had.”
“We hardly saw each other after that.” Her tone teased, but her eyes betrayed the seriousness of the question. She did care.
His hands came to rest on her arms.
She poked a finger at his chest. “I thought ye liked Betsy Carson?”
He ran his hands down her arms. “I was angry.”
“So was I.”
She didn’t feel angry now. She was soft, supple. He wanted to pull her close and kiss her until she couldn’t stand up. “I know. Ye were the only one who told me the truth. My father paid. Ye chastised me like he never could.”
Her breath caught. Her supple body stiffened under his hands. “He didn’t beat ye?”
“I was too big by then. And besides, he didn’t think a farmer like Hobson was worth his time. He paid for the repair and washed his hands of the whole thing. I was set to leave for school anyway. But ye, dear Ann.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Ye told me to grow up. Showed me the consequences of my actions.” He looked to the tops of the trees. “I went to see Richard before I left. Gave him what money I had and wrote to him. Together we modernized his farm. While at school, I met a new group of friends. They introduced me to Jesus. I knew ye’d be the only one who’d believe me. It was yer faith that brought me to mine.”
The stormy blue of her eyes deepened.
Reed held her gaze while all he longed for bloomed between them. Her gaze dropped to his lips. Her mouth softened. He touched his lips to hers. She leaned farther into him, sliding her fingers into his hair. He pressed her closer and deepened the kiss. Never had anything felt so right. He pulled away before he forgot himself, and tucked her next to his pounding heart.
~*~
Ann stood in his arms until he noticed the drifts of snow piling up on the horses. “Shall we ride?”
She agreed though she knew the snow would never be as magical as standing in his arms. Good grief, what was she thinking? This was Reed Archer. Maimer of friends. Son of a wicked, hard man who beat his children. How could she feel…she wasn’t actually certain what she felt. But whatever it was, how could she feel it for him?
The taste of him lingered on her lips.
Being held by him, talking to him in the snow. It all felt right, but it couldn’t be. She needed to think. To talk to Mattie.
They didn’t speak the rest of the way home, though when the road widened and he reached for her hand, she let him take it. She didn’t want to hurt him, at least not while she figured this out.
“Reed.”
The smile he gave her reflected the welcome of the candlelight glowing from the windows of the Hall up ahead.
She hesitated. Truly, she didn’t want to hurt him. “I need time to think.”
He pulled his hand back.
“Let’s just continue the way we planned for the whole two weeks.”
His smile returned. “I won’t give up on ye, Annie Wright. I’ve waited a long time.”
She cast her gaze down to hide the effect on her unruly heart. Just two hours ago, she’d have been annoyed at his arrogance and not giddy like a school girl with her first crush. If she’d been on her stallion, she’d have raced him to the stable. On her pacer, she just kicked it up a notch and arrived in the yard with him at her elbow.
“Will ye ride with me tomorrow morning?” he asked as she slid once again into his hands.
Her blush burned. “Yes.”
A tantalizing aroma laced the smoke weaving its way through the snow filled yard.
Ann put a hand to her stomach to stop its rumbling.
“Is it deep?” Mattie met them at the door.
“About an inch, but it won’t stop anytime soon.”
Ann changed from her riding habit into a gown of deep indigo wool. She went downstairs with her workbasket to the sitting room to wait for the call for dinner. Ann sat next to Mattie on the warm side of an eighteen light window watching the snow fall and ignoring the doll gown in her lap.
Mattie angled her embroidery toward the light of a bayberry-scented, tapered candle. “How did yer outing go?”
Mattie’s face pinked and she cast her gaze down once more. “We rode until the snow began to fall. We were obliged to come back for the older ladies were feeling the cold.”
Ann wiggled her eyebrows. “That would have been my mother, I’m sure.”
