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“Why?” I draw back. “Why would you do that?”
“Remember what I told you once?” He pauses. His fingers graze the sensitive skin of my waist underneath my shirt. “About not giving up on you?”
His voice is gentle, but the words hit me like a punch right between the eyes, like a bullet tearing through all my most vulnerable organs, leaving me gasping and undone. After everything I’ve done to him, he can’t possibly be the same Bishop who once loved me, who held my hand and became my best friend. I know I am not the same Ivy. I feel like one of the rabbits I’ve learned to gut, my insides ripped out, everything I’ve locked away, tried so hard to forget, in danger of gushing out of me. I’m gripped with a terror not so different from what I felt on the riverbank with Mark, raw and primitive, as if my very survival is at stake.
I jerk out of his grasp, scramble backward off the cot, away from him. My knee connects with his side, and he jackknifes forward.
“I’m sorry,” I pant. “I’m sorry. Is it your ribs? I can get you some more medicine.”
“Ivy—”
I grab my shoes and practically fall out of the tent. I stand in the gentle morning sunlight, struggling for breath, muscles clenched, air hitching out of my lungs. I don’t understand how the pain of losing him can be a pale shadow in comparison to the pain of finding him again.
Chapter Nine
I stop by Carol’s tent for some more medicine for Bishop and take the time to gather some breakfast for him as well. When I get back to my tent, Caleb and Ash are waiting outside for me.
“How’s he doing?” Caleb asks me.
I hold open the tent flap. “See for yourself.”
I follow Caleb and Ash inside, then move around them to hand Bishop the hunk of bread and canteen of water. I put the packet of medicine on the edge of the cot. “Take this after you eat. It will help with the pain.”
“Thanks,” Bishop says. I know he wants me to look at him, but I avoid his eyes, train my gaze on anything but his face.
“This is Caleb,” I say, pointing. “And Ash.”
“Your ribs must not be broken, if you’re sitting up,” Caleb says. He doesn’t offer his hand to Bishop.
“Probably just bruised,” Bishop agrees. His hand stays at his side, too.
Caleb nods. “Sorry about last night. Couldn’t be helped.” He points to his swollen, purple-ringed eye. “If it makes you feel any better, you gave almost as good as you got.”
Ash is perched on the edge of her cot, and I sit down next to her. Caleb squats down on the ground between the cots. I don’t know how he can sit like that for minutes on end, but it never seems to bother him.
“So, you’re Ivy’s husband,” Caleb says after a pause that’s gone on too long, everyone waiting for someone else to start the conversation.
“No,” Bishop says. I watch his fingers tear into the bread. He is still wearing his wedding ring. “Not anymore.”
Now my gaze does fly to his. “What do you mean?”
“They dissolved the marriage. After you were put out.”
So I’m not Ivy Lattimer anymore. I don’t know why that fact leaves me with a pang of regret. Maybe because it means I don’t belong to anyone anymore, neither the Westfalls nor the Lattimers willing to claim me as their own.
“Ivy told you everything, I’m guessing?” Bishop continues.
“Not at first,” Caleb says. “Only after you got here.”
Bishop huffs out a small laugh. “Well, telling the truth isn’t Ivy’s strong suit.” And there it is, the anger I’ve been waiting for. Just a hint of it, but there all the same. I wonder when it will come roaring out of him, if I’ll be ready for it when it does.
“But you still came looking for her,” Ash says, not quite a question.
“Yes.”
Caleb is twirling a small stick around and around his fingers. “Took you long enough.”
Bishop swings his gaze away from me, thoughtful eyes taking Caleb’s measure. “They kept a close watch on me. I couldn’t get away. I think my mother suspected I’d go after Ivy as soon as I could.” I can only imagine how that must have eaten at Erin, knowing her only son would side with me over his family. Just one more Lattimer man who chose another woman over her.
