The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge. Lori Connelly

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The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge - Lori  Connelly


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from her to look around the room. “This cabin isn’t familiar to me.”

      “Ben.” Evie paused. Tension radiated from her. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

      His thoughts sluggish, it took Ben a few minutes before he answered. “Heading to town with Henry. Is that where we met, in Joplin?”

      “No.” Her heart sank. Her brother met Ben when they worked in a Missouri mine, a year before their wedding. “That happened when Henry brought you home.”

      He seized on that bit of information. “We’d talked about that.” A wrinkle formed between his brows. “We were sick of working underground, wanted to quit, head west. Then … he got news about his family in … Indiana and, I can’t remember why but we were going to go there first.” He tilted his head to one side. “You know Henry?”

      “He’s my brother.”

      His eyebrows drew together. “You’re Cookie?”

      “That’s what he called me.” Her lips curved slightly, a ghost of a smile.

      “Called? Did something happen to Henry?”

      Evie shrugged a casual motion to cloak emotion. “I don’t know, haven’t seen him in years.”

      “Went looking for gold?”

      “Yeah, he left the day of our wedding.”

      “That upset you?”

      “I wasn’t thrilled.” She delivered the understatement in a dry tone. With their grandfather in poor health, she’d wanted Henry to stay at least for a while.

      “So instead of going with him as I’d planned, I stayed in Indiana with you?”

      Until Grandpa died. Evie winced, her head started to throb and she decided to keep it short. “For a time, then we moved west.”

      “We’re in California?”

      Evie shook her head. “Cedar Ridge, Idaho.”

      “That’s not bad. You know, I always wanted to live out west and have adventures like those in dime novels.”

      “I know.”

      His expression tightened, he appeared troubled by the notion that she knew him well. “I need to lie down.”

      “All right.”

      Concerned by the weakness in his voice, Evie bent over him, helped him change position. She had Ben comfortably settled in a matter of minutes. As she moved away, he captured her wrist in a strong grip that caught her off guard. She stared at him, shocked. Her heart beat at a furious pace.

      “How long?”

      “Since you were hurt?”

      “Have we been married?”

      “Oh.” Her voice soft, she answered, “Five years.”

      “Kids?”

      She suddenly forgot to breathe. After some seconds, Evie pulled free in a firm but gentle move. She plucked the picture from where it had fallen on his blanket, looking at their image for a few seconds then back up at him. “No.”

      Evie knelt back down by the open box on the floor. With care, she covered the photograph in linen and replaced it. A folded section of yellowed newspaper rested to one side. She shifted so that her body blocked what little view Ben had and reached for it.

      “Evie?”

      “You should get some sleep.” Her tone flat, dismissive as she unwrapped the paper, running fingers over soft yarn.

      Her chest ached and tears stung her eyes. Head bent, she blinked them back. Evie studied what she held for a long moment then drew in an uneven breath. She refolded the paper, tucked it away. Her hands shook as she closed the box then pushed it back in its place.

      “Evie?”

      Again, his soft tone made her name a question, one that she ignored. Evie got to her feet and walked over to the fireplace, her mind on the past. She poured some coffee then spooned honey into the steaming liquid. Fatigue crept over her, numbing her thoughts. Wordless she returned to her chair, sat in silence, sipping the hot sweetness until it at last she registered that Ben had spoken.

      “Yes?”

      “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

      Evie took a long drink. “Many things.”

      “Such as?”

      “It seems…” Weary, she sighed, long, loud. “That I have years to explain.”

      “Evie I-”

      “It’s been a long day. I’d rather talk tomorrow.” Her gaze focused on her lap, shoulders stiff, Evie braced for an argument that never came. Instead, after an extended silent pause, she heard the deeps breaths of sleep.

      Dusk had called forth shadows by the time a quick glance confirmed her husband indeed slept. Relief seeped through her as she stood up. Evie placed her mug on the dresser and tucked another faded patchwork quilt over him. She banked the fire and then scooted the table in front of the door for a measure of security. With one gentle breath, she blew out the lamp’s flame then sat back in the rocker, shivering under a thin blanket.

      Time crawled by. Worry gnawed at her thoughts and kept her awake. One hand toyed with the folds of her skirt. After her vision adjusted to the darkness, Evie studied the stranger who was her husband.

      Memories of their courtship danced through her mind. Ben had pursued her with a single-minded intensity. A romantic, he’d used every opportunity to kiss her hands, brought her a flower he’d picked daily and wrote her poetry, bad poetry. A smile teased at her lips. The attention had intoxicated her, touching her heart. Her eyes closed. She’d fallen hard and fast.

      In the quiet night, disturbed only by his strained breathing, the sad state of her life crowded out the pleasant feelings from those memories. The dreams she had then, had since been crushed. Evie wept quietly until exhaustion claimed her and she yielded to the oblivion of sleep.

      Morning arrived fast. To Evie it felt as though she’d just closed her eyes when sunlight streamed through the open curtains and warmed her face. Not fully awake, the sensation of being watched awakened annoyance. She grimaced, turning her head to find the source. Her gaze met Ben’s steady regard. The weight of his consideration made her squirm, suddenly self-conscious.

      Flustered, she tossed her quilt off onto the bed and got up. Her husband beckoned her to come closer before Evie could put distance between them. Concerned, she leaned down. His fingertips lightly brushed tangled strands of hair off her cheek.

      “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

      One simple touch triggered a cascade of emotion. His gaze held hers captive. Liquid fire raced heat through her veins and her breath became swift, shallow, audible. Seconds ticked by in sweet anticipation.

      “You’re one pretty lady.”

      The spell broke as suddenly as it was spun. Evie straightened and turned away in one motion. She breathed in deep then let it out slow. The connection between them felt as strong as ever but then chemistry had never been the problem. Her back to him, a single tear ran down her cheek unheeded.

      “Did I do something wrong?” A suggestion of desire threaded his voice.

      Lips stiff, Evie managed to keep her tone even while she walked across the room. “No.”

      “Why’d you move away?”

      The gently voiced question scraped on raw nerves and Evie didn’t answer for a few minutes. She worked to put the room to rights, addressing what she’d neglected the night before.

      “What’s wrong?”

      Her teeth bit on her inner cheek. She held back words Ben wouldn’t


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