“I rented a carriage from the livery. Mr. Yancy says hello, by the way.”
“Oh, he’s a sweet man. Just give me a few minutes to fill a picnic basket. I’ll make some sandwiches out of that leftover ham from last night.” She set to work quickly.
Devlin enjoyed watching her for a few moments then opened the kitchen door and stepped outside onto the back porch. Avery was on the swing toward the back of the yard, her little legs pumping hard, her curls dancing in the breeze of her own creation. Cecily leaned against the tree trunk, all but forgottenfor the moment. The tension he’d been carrying around with him eased just a bit.
He stepped off the porch and walked the length of yard, stopping in front of her.
“Daddy!” Avery squealed with delight then jumped off the swing at its highest point. He hadn’t expected that and opened his arms, heart in his throat, to catch her in mid-flight.
“Avery!” he shouted, ready to issue the reprimand hovering on his tongue but then he looked at her—all grins and happy giggles, her eyes wide and filled with the utmost confidence that he would catch her. The reprimand died in his throat, replaced with a wry chuckle. She was a daredevil and so much like him he couldn’t be upset. Still, he had to say something, for her own protection as well as his peace of mind. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“But you caught me.”
“That I did, but I might not always be there.”
She nodded with enthusiasm and conviction. “Yes, you will.”
His heart, now beating again as it should, swelled. Yes, he would. Always. He’d never let her down. Ever. He set her down, then took her little hand in his. “How would you like to go on a picnic? Miss Tresia is making sandwiches.”
“Okay, Daddy.” She pulled him toward the house, excited, apparently, to go. He was just as eager for the opportunity to find a little peace and quiet with his favorite girls.
It wasn’t long before they reached the lake in the little spot Merrill had told him about. He climbed out of the carriage, then reached up to help Tresia and his daughter. “Stay close, Avery.”
She glanced at him, her eyes questioning. “Can I put my feet in the water?”
“Yes, but don’t go too far in without me or Miss Tresia. Up to your ankles only.”
Avery gave a nod and headed toward the water, where she promptly sat near the water’s edge and pulled off her shoes and stockings. In moments, she was in the water up to her ankles.
“That’s as far as you go, Avery,” he reminded her. “Promise?”
“Promise,” she called back over her shoulder.
He took his gaze off her for a moment to grab an old quilt, then spread it out on the grass beneath the wide limbs of a cottonwood tree. He settled himself, stretching out his long legs, his focus once more on Avery.
Tresia sat beside him and started removing what she’d packed from the basket. “This is nice.”
“Yes, it is. A beautiful day. And exactly what I needed.” And it was what he needed, far away from the prying questions from reporters, not to mention every single townsperson he ran into. So many wanted him to relive the killing of Ned Delany and he just didn’t want to. Yes, Delany was a bad man, but he hadn’t enjoyed ending his depraved and cruel life. He would have much rather have him pay for his crimes in prison, convicted by a jury of his peers.
“Is everything all right, Devlin?”
“It is now.” He reached for her hand and just held it, the comfort exuding from her by such a simple touch easing his troubled mind.
“But it wasn’t before.” She looked at him, her gaze steady and inquisitive, her smile tremulous but reassuring, letting him know he could tell her anything. “Why did you come home so early? Did something happen?”
He took his eyes off Avery for a moment and glanced in Tresia’s direction before focusing on his daughter again. “I’m tired, Tresia,” he finally admitted. “And if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it. I just want to sit here in the peace and quiet and spend time with you and Avery.”
She squeezed his hand, confirming her understanding. “All right. We can do that.” Her gaze settled on him and he knew that even though she agreed not to talk about it now, she would want to later. And maybe later, he would be ready to share his concerns. She was, after all, a good listener, offering sound advice but only when asked. And she was going to be his wife. She deserved to know the fear that lived in his heart, but for now, he simply wanted to enjoy spending time with Avery and her.
Something definitely wasn’t right. Tresia studied Devlin’s profile, or as much as she could see in the moonlight coming into his bedroom. She was worried about him. He didn’t seem like himself.
Ever since their picnic—even during their picnic—Devlin had remained quiet, much too quiet. Not even Avery could pull him out of the darkness that seemed to have taken control of him. Something was weighing heavily on his mind. He even made love differently, still gentle and thoughtful, bringing her to the heights of passion, but with an almost desperation in his actions.
And she wasn’t having it.
They were to be married. She was to be a helpmate to him, a companion, someone he could confide in. That’s what marriage was supposed to be.
“What’s wrong, Devlin?”
