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Evelyn stared after him. Her mind swirled dizzily with the information Laurent had given her. She recalled Alex’s angry reaction the day she tried to attack him with the knife. Absently, she rubbed at her wrists. The marks he had left were long gone. She remembered his tense stance after Aimee had put a stop to his ever-tightening grip, and the pained look in his eyes afterward. She recalled his fierce embrace, which had quickly turned gentle yet remained strong when he kissed her, and again when he held her during her angry outburst the day they met up with Laurent. Alex may think he would hurt her, but in her heart it became as clear as the water flowing in the nearby creek that he could never do to her what his father had done to him and his mother.
With a new understanding of the quiet, brooding man who had become her husband by a strange twist of fate, Evelyn stirred the contents of her stew pot. Her young girl’s dreams of becoming Alex Walker’s wife had come true, and she would follow Laurent’s advice and make him see that he was not the man he envisioned in his misguided mind.
She spotted Yancey by the horses, and waved him to the fire. He politely accepted her offer, and sat to eat. Alex finally emerged from the woods, carrying several large poles and pine branches. Laurent followed close on his heels. Evelyn ladled stew onto tin plates that Laurent brought her, and added a couple of biscuits from the skillet.
The Frenchman joined Yancey at the fire, but Alex stayed behind, setting to work building, what Evelyn quickly realized, was a lean-to. Tying a large pole horizontally to two young trees that were spaced about ten feet apart, he added smaller poles to create a v-shaped shelter on one side, which he covered with pine branches. Only when he was finished did he come to the fire. He sat and silently accepted the plate of food she offered. She handed him several biscuits, which he eyed appreciatively.
“I’ll build a fire near the shelter. It’s going to be cold tonight,” he said, spooning food into his mouth without looking at anyone in particular. When no one replied, he glanced up, and his gaze met Evelyn’s.
“You can move some buffalo robes under there,” he grumbled, staring directly at her.
“You built that for me?” she asked, surprised even as her heart soared. She flashed him a wide smile, and Alex’s eyebrows scrunched together. Clearing his throat, he said, “Like I said, it’s gonna be cold tonight, and probably windy. It’ll be warmer for you there.”
Evelyn’s eyes darted to Laurent, who coughed into his coffee cup, then hastily stuffed a biscuit into his mouth. She shot another look at Alex, but his attention had returned to his food. With a determined intake of breath, Evelyn silently vowed that, starting in the morning, she would win Alexander Walker over just as he had again stolen her heart with his small gestures of kindness.
****
Evelyn shivered under her blankets, and tucked her legs up closer to her torso. A sudden blast of cold air hit her from behind, and in her half-awakened state, she groped for the covers. Just as quickly, a pleasant warmth replaced the frigid cold, and she inched closer to its source until she leaned against a solid wall. Vaguely, she wondered at the oddity, but her groggy mind didn’t question it further.
When a steely arm slipped around her middle, pulling her closer, she tensed instinctively, and her eyes opened to the blackness of night. She pushed against her assailant, and kicked her leg back. The strong arm tightened around her waist. Her sleepy mind conjured images of Oliver Sabin. Had the man found their camp? He’d come to claim her after all.
She struggled to awaken fully. ”Let go of me,” she said through gritted teeth. She thrashed her legs, kicking at him wherever she could, until a heavy thigh fell over her abdomen, holding her to the ground. The man straddled her, and pinned her beneath him. She pushed against his chest, momentary panic flooding her, but she was no match for his strength. His hands clamped around her arms, and he immobilized her further.
“I won’t hurt you, Evie,” someone whispered softly in her ear. “I’m only here to keep you warm. Don’t be afraid of me.”
Alex? Evelyn’s mind raced at his words. He’d come to share her blankets? Earlier she’d been ready to . . . do what? She wanted to prove to Alex that she was a woman. As her husband, he had every right to be in her bed, but she wasn’t ready for this. It was too unexpected.
“Evie, I’m not here to hurt you,” he said again, his voice louder this time.
“I told you I wouldn’t share your blankets.” She forced the lie from her lungs, trying to inhale a deep breath. “Or have you forgotten our agreement already?”
