Mail-Order Revenge by Couch Angela K

Author:Couch, Angela K. [Couch, Angela K.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-04-23T16:00:00+00:00

***

Axel propped the saddle against the wall and hooked the bridle on a peg. A yawn watered his eyes as he turned from the barn and started to the house. Well past midnight, his muscles ached and his body begged for sleep. His thoughts hazed, his mind already succumbing to exhaustion. Even still, he paused at the well to wash up a little, something he wouldn’t have bothered with before he shared a bed, before it mattered if the bedding smelled like horse.

Inside the cabin, Pa had a lamp lit, and it cast a light across the clean floor. Very clean. Eliza had kept busy today. A good sign she was adjusting to this wilderness and making herself at home. Some of the tension building over the past week eased from his shoulders. Eliza had seemed detached from everything since she’d come, as if a tangible barrier stood between her and calling this place home. On the surface, she’d helped around the cabin, and spent a lot of time with her little mare, but her eyes—though deep enough to draw him in every time he looked at her—remained distant. And a little sad. Axel nodded toward Pa and turned into his own bedroom.

Another yawn stretched his mouth as he crawled between the covers after undressing. He wiped his hand down his face. Eliza shifted beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She didn’t face him but turned her head slightly. “For what?”

“Waking you.”

Her head shook. “I wasn’t asleep yet.”

Axel pushed up on an elbow. Had she waited up for him…or was she simply not at ease alone in the cabin? Could he hope that maybe she’d worried for him? A little? He resisted the need to wrap her in his arms. He’d settle for a quick kiss to her temple. For now.

As always, she stiffened at his touch.

He laid back down. “Good night.”

No reply. Maybe he would get used to her silence someday.

He closed his eyes and pressed his hands over them. Time. He had to give her time. The woman who wrote those letters was buried in there somewhere. There were moments he saw glimpses of humor, and even warmth.

“Eliza?”

“What?”

“Would you consider riding with me tomorrow? I could show you more of the ranch. Desert Lady needs exercise, and Stitches would probably enjoy the companionship.” As would he. If only he could be certain she felt the same.

Silence filled the room. He could almost hear the minutes tick away in his head. It felt as though any hope of a happy future with her hung on her reply.

“All right.”

He released his breath and settled into his pillow.

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