The lamp had been left on. Kitty sighed without opening her eyes. Who had her last client been? How could she have forgotten to turn off the lamp? Madam Nancy had strict rules about that sort of thing, and she’d been punished once before.
She opened her eyes and found herself lying outside, with trees and a lingering firefly above her, and dried grass below her. Biting down the panic, she waited and allowed the memories of the last two days to surface.
Two days. Was that all it had been since she had left Madam Nancy’s? And she had left with –
Kitty twisted in her makeshift bed and saw the hovel’s door was slightly ajar. She could see a pair of socked feet lying in the doorway.
Thomas Bryant.
Sitting up, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and gazed around her. It was rushing back now; the letter, the suggestion, the wedding, the saloon, the coach, the barn, the gorge, the fireflies . . . and the proposal of real and genuine affection.
Her heart started to race, and she looked once again at the hovel. The socked feet were not moving.
Kitty slipped out of her makeshift bed and pulled the shawl which had formed the base of it, and huddled underneath a tree with her back to the bark.
Thomas Bryant was in love with her.
Well, that was patently nonsense. He had had no idea of her existence three days ago, and now he was declaring undying love – to his wife? His wife of convenience, one he had openly stated had only desired because he wanted to look respectable in front of his family. The family he had stolen from. The family he had lied to. The family he had deserted.
Kitty blew out her breath from her cheeks and watched the birds slowly awaken. The trouble was, despite all that had passed between them, she could not hate him for wanting a reputable life again. What would she do for decency? It turned out it was almost exactly the same thing.
She closed her eyes, and her mind returned unbidden to their last conversation.
“Kitty, I am falling in love with you.”
“No, you are not.”
“Yes, I am. How could I not?”
“Because I am – I am Miss Morrison, Madam Nancy’s favorite! No man thinks of me as a person, no one, not even you! You said yourself, in the coach, I was to bring shame on you wherever we – ”
“Did I not apologize for that – did I not say that I was wrong? If Christ has made you clean, who am I to say otherwise? Kitty, you have completely bewitched me, and the more time that I spend with you, the deeper I fall for you!”
And she had refuted him, and refused him, and refrained from listening to him. And he had not given in.
“I know you think that I married you simply for respectability – and yes, I can admit that was a part of it. But I felt then what I know now: that we could have a real and genuine affection for each other. This could be a marriage that lasts the ages!”
A chance of happiness, a chance of true felicity, and what had her response been?
“No, you could not have known; you did not know me then, and you do not know me now!”
And yet Thomas Bryant had fought for her.
“Kitty, I love you, and I want this marriage – this marriage that started out as convenience . . . I want it to be real.”
Her heart was beating fast, and she could feel it pounding across her wrists, into her ears, and across her cheeks.
What was she afraid of? Thomas Bryant was a good man; a good man who had done bad things.
Giggling, she opened her eyes. They were the perfect match for each other, really. Stupid mistakes when young, losing their family, desperate to return: she could perhaps have never found someone who was more ready to understand her, more ready to love.
A bird hopped to the ground. It was a raven, and it pulled at the scraps of meat that had fallen around the fire. The sun was beginning to increase in temperature now, and foraging time would soon be over.
Thomas Bryant loved her. It was hard to fathom, but had he not given her the very proof of it each and every day that they had been together? Fighting the men in the coach, carrying her bags, carrying her across the gorge! And when finally, he had allowed his words to speak for him instead of his actions, what had she done?
Thrown it back in his face.
“You just want – you just want what every man wants. You do not want me. Not me in my entirety. You want the part of me you can use.”
And he had protested, and then he had shown himself to desire her, unwillingly, and she had punished him for it.
“I may be afraid of human connection. But you are afraid to be without it. You are so desperate to be loved, Thomas Bryant, that you will steal for attention, and you will lie to avoid blame, and you will marry a woman you have just met in order to return to people you think will love you again.”
It had been but twelve hours since she had uttered those words, and already she was ashamed of them. She, of all people, knew what it was to love another and have love unreturned. Why had she been utterly cruel?
“You frighten me, but not because of what you could do to me, out here, alone in the world, married to you. You frighten me because you have never made a good decision in your life; and I decided to marry you.”
“What kind of a fool are you?” Kitty whispered, pulling the shawl more tightly around herself, despite the encroaching heat. “You would miss a chance to find real love to prove a point?”
Because that was what she had done. Had she not felt the same stirrings of affection for Thomas, and ignored them? Had she not forced herself to ignore them, tried desperately to think of him as a man – and like all men, untrustworthy?
But Thomas Bryant was no such man. He had married her! Married her for the only reason he knew how: because that was what it would take to have her near him. Because he had known he would fall irretrievably in love with her. Perhaps it was a nudge from the Lord, perhaps it was the Spirit’s foresight, but he had known.
And she had fallen in love with him.
Kitty sighed deeply. She had known it as soon as he had stared at her, pain etched across him, and then turned and stomped into the hovel, pushing the door to behind him. The pain of him leaving was greater than the pain of him declaring his love for her, and that was when she knew.
She was in love with Thomas Bryant.
An unconscious smile crept over her face. Sweet Grove was but half a day’s journey away, and now they could take hold of this chance to live a new life, one in the countryside, with family near them and nothing else to interfere with their happiness.
“Morning.”
Kitty was startled and leapt to her feet. Thomas was standing before her, and she had not heard him open the door.
“I will go and find water so you can drink and wash.”
He strode away without looking back. Kitty stared at him; his tone had been lifeless and dull, and he had not caught her eye – though perhaps that had been due to his anxiety of getting water. That must be it.
That was not it. When he returned, he readied the leftover rabbit and water without glancing at her, and Kitty, her own mortifying words ringing in her ears, could not think of a single thing to say to him.
Until it came to packing the last of their belongings into their luggage.
“Thank you for breakfast,” she said timidly. He had his back to her, which was probably why she now had the courage to say something. She waited.
He grunted in reply, but did not turn around.
Kitty bit her lip. She was not accustomed to apologizing; predominately because her time at Madam Nancy’s had taught her that it was the other person’s fault anyway. Why should she debase herself merely to restore a friendship or a customer’s pique?
This was different. If she did not speak now, she could lose Thomas forever – if she had not done already.
“Thomas, I – ”
“Should not be too long until we see Sweet Grove,” he cut in, turning around and pulling his cravat around his throat with juddering hands. “Now, I know you have come a long way, Miss . . . Mrs . . . well, I know you have travelled with difficulty these last few days, and I wanted to say: if Miss Elizabeth is not at Sweet Grove, and I have no reason to think she is not – but if she is not, you will always have family in me. If you want it. I am sure I can be as good a brother to you as Miss Elizabeth would be a sister.”
His eyes finally caught hers, and Kitty gasped. There was such sadness in them; such longing was repressed, such desperation to be loved and yet a complete unwillingness to speak.
And that was when she knew exactly what she was going to do.
Thomas blinked. It was painful, holding her gaze, but it would be the last time; never again would he be this bold with a woman who had made it clear she wanted naught to do with him.
“So,” he said finally, and swallowed to give his dry throat some relief, “all we need to do is pat down this fire, and then – ”
It happened in an instant, and in a swishing of skirts, and in a sweep of movement his brain could not follow until Kitty Bryant – for she would always be such in his mind – was in his arms and her lips were on his mouth.
He dropped the luggage, and his arms moved naturally to encircle her, keeping her close as he lost himself in that kiss.
A million years later, they broke apart, but Kitty stayed exactly where she belonged: in his arms.
“I do not understand,” Thomas said helplessly under his breath.
Kitty laughed. “Neither do I. Not really.”
“But you said – ”
“I know what I said,” she said with a blazing smile. “And I was wrong. I was afraid, and I pushed you away.”
Thomas stared at her wildly. “It does not seem possible,” he breathed. “I cannot believe you – that someone as wonderful as you would possibly think to care about me.”
She smiled, and it was a broad smile of unadulterated joy. “I do not care about you.”
The exhilaration that was electrifying his body dulled. “You do not?”
Kitty raised her lips to be kissed again, and he complied willingly. He would do anything for this woman. Anything.
“No,” she said finally. “I do not care about you. I love you, Thomas Bryant. I love you more than I thought possible.”
His blood was still rushing through his ears as he swayed, still anchored by his hold on her and his love for her. “But the things you said last night . . . how can that be?”
Her gaze dropped then, and color swept across her cheeks. “I was frightened.”
“Frightened?” Thomas dropped his arms, and he took a step backwards. “Kitty, I did not mean to frighten you.”
She smiled weakly. “I know. ‘Twas not your doing; any man who had said such things to me would have provoked my fear, if truth be told, and it was far more overwhelming when I had feelings in return.”
She had feelings in return. Thomas could hardly believe it; this woman, this spectacular woman, who had endured so much and had all the reasons to never trust again, loved him.
She loved him.
“You love me,” he murmured, and he received an answering smile from her lips.
Kitty nodded. “I love you. Thomas, I love you more than I thought possible – previous ideas of attachment are nothing compared to what I know in my heart to be our true and mutual affection.”
He blew out his cheeks and laughed. “I wish you had been able to intimate as much to me last night – it would have saved me a rather restless night!”
She colored again, and Thomas marveled at her ever-changing expressions. Was he ever to truly know her? There were endless things to discover in this astounding woman.
“I did not understand then,” Kitty was saying, “what I understand now. My complete lack of clarity in the matter does not alter my feelings for you – and if anything, having struggled towards an understanding of them, I think I value them greater still.”
Thomas stretched out his hands to her, and she willingly took them in her own. “Now, I want to know from you, my love – my dearest one,” and her cheeks obliged him by deepening in their pink hue, “that you comprehend what you are saying to me. This is to be a real marriage: one full of laughter, and love, and encompassing all that a true marriage entails.”
His breath caught in his throat. Was he to lose her at this very juncture; was this too much to ask of her?
Her answer left him in no doubt. Her lips firmly pressed against his, and she flung her arms around his neck.
It felt like eternity, but it was probably only a minute until the kiss ended.
“Now,” Kitty breathed, her cheeks aglow with mischief. “Will you take a chance on me?”
Thomas laughed. “Oh, Kitty. I took a chance on you the moment I collapsed in front of the vision of you, and I will continue doing so until the day I die.”
It took them but a moment to gather their meager belongings, and when they were ready to depart, he pointed in the direction away from the sun, their shadows preceding them on their journey.
“Right then,” Thomas Bryant said, his hand entwined in his wife’s. “Let’s go home.”