“Sure, lay Isabell on the seat. I don’t think she’ll mind. The kid sleeps like a rock. We couldn’t wake her if we tried.”
Hank held on to the horse, and Anora positioned Isabell on the seat. Relieving Hank of the horse’s bridle, she led him and the buggy onto the ferry. Hank cranked up the tongue and then pulled the bell. But nothing happened. “Pete and Roscoe are asleep, I guess.”
Teeth chattering, she said, “Poor things, it’s been a long day for them. I gave them extra feed. Ring the bell again.”
The ferry had started to drift from shore on its own. They felt the tug as the oxen worked to pull the cable. Dividing his attention between the river and Anora, Hank watched her face. She had a tight hold on the horse’s bridle, the beast kept trying to throw his head. Focusing on the river; she looked to be willing the ferry to reach the other side.
“I think the river’s pretty in the moonlight, don’t you?” he asked. “Look how the moonlight ripples across the water—reminds me of spilt milk. Oh, hear that, an owl.”
Something swooped across their bow. Anora ducked, and Hank chuckled. “Bats,” he said.
Her hair, catching the moonlight, had turned to silver. He would always remember how she looked at this moment in time, her face, perfectly profiled against the reflection of the moon on the water. “I like drifting in the moonlight. It’s peaceful, not like back there, with all those people.”
“The river never gives me any peace,” he heard her say.
Reaching the landing, he lowered the tongue. “I’ll get the oxen to the barn if you want to lead the buggy to the cabin.”
∙•∙
Her feet on firm ground, Anora allowed herself to take a deep breath—they’d survived the eerie ride. All the way across, the ferry slicing across the river’s natural current, the water taunted, whispered, and snickered at her.
Searching the dark shadows beneath the trees, she crossed the yard, her sense of unease staying with her. Maneuvering the horse and buggy up to the porch, she tied the reins off. Knees shaking, she sat on the steps for a moment. Worried about Isabell, hesitating to leave her, she had to go inside the cabin alone to be sure Ruben wasn’t lurking in the shadows.
The cabin door clicked when she opened it. A beam of moonlight spread out in a fan across the floor. She had no reason to think anything had been tampered with. Nervous, hands shaking, she found the candle in the middle of the table and the flint box. Holding the light up, peering into the dark corners of the room, she found nothing but bare walls, barren counters, and the flat, wrinkle-free surface of her bed. With her hand cupped to protect the flame, she went back out to the porch to stand guard over Isabell. At the barn, she saw the light from the lantern emerge, and watched it swing forward and back as Hank made his way down the track.
Standing in the doorway, and looking inside, she told herself she didn’t have anything to fear, not really. Drawn to the wardrobe in the far corner, she cautiously opened it, expecting, she didn’t know what, it wouldn’t hold a man. Shedding light to shine between the wall and bed, she saw nothing. Holding her candle up higher so the light reached across the room, going into the dark corners by the door, nothing; everything looked the way she’d left it. Her work clothes still hung on the peg by the door alongside her hat. The cup on the table, half full of water, waited for her untouched. Although feeling ridiculous, she got down on her hands and knees to look under the bed, setting the candle on the floor the better to cast the light beneath the bed frame.
“Lose something?” Hank asked from the opened door behind her.
Startled, she jerked and bumped her head on the bureau behind her. Shaking, , she rose up and sat on the edge of the bed.
Hank set the lantern down in the middle of the table and then came to her, sitting beside her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Are we looking for something?” he asked, his eyes scanning the room.
Rubbing the knot on her head, she said, “No, no…I’m being silly. I had a feeling someone had been here is all.”
“Are you always afraid here, by yourself?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, then shook her head, “No, not always. Sometimes, at first, when there were a lot of people camped in the yard, I didn’t sleep much. But lately, it’s different. I’m not worried about the strangers anymore. I go to sleep early so I don’t have to listen to the sounds of the night. Awake, I hear things, animals mostly, moving around. And the wind in the trees, the cabin creaking, the fire in the grate popping.”
∙•∙
“Anora,” Hank said, taking her hand in his. “Anora,” he said again, this time she put up her chin to meet his gaze. He kissed her, his hand on the back of her head to draw her forward to meet his lips. He held her there, lips touching, unmoving, simply touching. She didn’t resist, and this gave him hope. He drew back, his hand slipping to touch her cheek. “Come live with me? We need you.”
Eyes flying open, arms braced, hands holding on to the edge of the bed, she said without hesitation, “I can’t. That’s impossible. You can’t mean it.”
“If you’re objecting because of the ferry, I don’t expect you to stop working the damn thing. Go ahead, work it as long as you want. But I’m going to help you all I can, when I can, and I don’t care who objects. I understand how you feel about it. I want you to do what you want,, but Anora, I hope what you want is to be with me…always…and Isabell. It’s no good you alone down here, and me alone up there on the hill. I look out at night and think of you. Isabell’s started to pray you’ll come live with us.”
“Don’t…” she said, stopping him, putting her fingertips over his lips. “I want to say yes. It would be so easy…so wonderful…a dream come true. Shhh, don’t say anything more. You know I can’t. Paxton said it. I’m not free.”
Removing those bars to his lips, he said, “If you’re talking about that ring on your finger, I don’t believe it. When I married Lydia, we exchanged vows to love, cherish, and take care of, and protect each other. You can recall no such exchange between you and Ruben. And Ruben…Ben…certainly didn’t care or protect you. He left you alone, broken; he threw you away, and boldly took up with another woman. You owe him no allegiance. I want you for my own, my wife, Anora. I want to give you everything I have…my name…all of me.”
She sprang to her feet and paced in front of him. He reached out and put his hand on her arm to hold her still. Standing, he gave her wrist a little squeeze. “Come, let me hold you. Please.” She sighed and folded into his body. “I know…I know people will cluck and tsk, tsk, but life is too short.” He put his chin to the top of her head, his hand stroking her back. “I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. I’ve been fortunate to find two women whom I love with my whole being, and I’m not going to deny myself happiness for the sake of a lot of gabble grinders. Anora, I love you. You can’t throw this chance away.”
With her forehead pressed against his chest, arms hanging down to her sides, she said, “I don’t want to. You have to believe that. I want to go with you right now. Leave all of this. You will never know how much I wish I could, but I can’t.”
“Why?”
Pushing back, her gaze unflinching, she said, “Ruben—he’s coming back. I can feel it. He’s getting very close. I keep looking for him. I’ve felt it for a while now, but tonight…”
He took her by her shoulders and pulled her back into his embrace. “Did you think he was here tonight?”
“Yes. This…this…you and me…it’s too good…too right…I know he knows. I don’t know how, but he always knows. I feel the evil, the danger of him. You and Isabell have to stay away. Especially Isabell, Hank. Ruben is cruel, unpredictable. We can’t take the chance. He could be out there right now watching us. He could take her, Hank…take her and…”
He paced, going to the opened door, then back to stand before her at the bed. “Ruben’s a coward. He won’t kill outright. If you’re here alone, you’re vulnerable. Each of us is vulnerable, but if we’re together, he can’t hurt us, he won’t. The Rubens of this world are animals, they sneak and skulk, but they never come out in the open, and they don’t kill in a crowd. We know what and who he is, the whole town knows. Please, Anora, believe me. We give him all he needs by being afraid. We can’t give him anything.”
Nodding, she said, “There’s something in what you say, but I need time, Hank.”
Kissing her on the forehead, the nose, then finding her lips, their bodies swaying with their need for each other, he said, “Just say it, Anora, tell me…let me know how you feel?”
She opened her mouth to speak, then pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. “I don’t dare,” she said. “I don’t dare hope, dream. I have to put aside what I want, what I need.”
Placing her hands to his face, she opened her eyes and looked deep into his. “You shouldn’t want me. I can’t erase the things Ruben did, things I couldn’t stop him from doing. No man should want me. But if you need to hear the words, then know this, I found myself loving you, admiring you, yes, wanting you almost from the moment I met you. Love…Hank…at the time I couldn’t remember ever knowing love, or seeing love, until I saw you with Lydia—how you were with her and Isabell. Because of your love for them, I began to see, and remember my own mother and father. I knew my feelings were the same. My feelings for you are the same. I’d give my life for you, Hank. I live each day to see you, hear your voice.” Trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks, Hank folded her into his chest, stroking her head.
He would never say it out loud, for fear God would strike him dead, but his love for Anora was so much more than the love he’d felt for Lydia. He didn’t like to admit it. He knew himself for a traitor to Lydia’s memory. She represented what he’d thought he should be, successful, stalwart, and loyal, she’d made him be all of that, because that was what she’d expected.
Passion, yes, Lydia had inspired passion; she had been a warm, vital woman, but she hadn’t fired his soul, inspired his desires to a dizzying height. Anora, she had been his destiny all along, Lydia was the road, the way to meeting his true and rightful partner for this life and every life to come.