Ever Faithful. Carolyne Aarsen

security and familiarity. She straightened and stepped into Fred’s open arms that clutched her too tightly.

      “Sorry, honey,” he apologized as he felt her wince. He loosened his hold, but didn’t let her go. “We’re so glad for you and Tim.” He gave her one more careful squeeze, then reached past her to shake Tim’s hand.

      “Thank’s for all you did for Amy and me tonight,” he said as he stepped back. “I’m sorry my parents couldn’t make it, but I enjoyed meeting the rest of the Henderson family.”

      The moment lengthened as Amy felt her love for these surrogate parents deepen and tears threaten. Finally Tim opened the door to the outside, breaking the atmosphere. “We should go, Amy.”

      They exchanged another round of quick goodbyes, and Tim and Amy stepped out into the soft night. The moon was a silver disk pressed against a black velvet sky scattered with handfuls of stars. Amy looked up and offered a quick prayer of thankfulness. How blessed she was to live here and to think that their children would be able to experience the same open spaces.

      Tim opened his car door for Amy but didn’t close it when she stepped in. Instead he looked down on her, his shoulders and head silhouetted against the moonlight. Amy felt his waiting and glanced upward.

      “What is it?”

      “You look beautiful….”

      Amy smiled back, a gentle warmth suffusing her. His compliments still made her feel slightly uncomfortable, as if she expected some other, truly beautiful girl to step up from behind Amy and whisper her thanks to Tim.

      “I just wondered,” he continued, “why you didn’t wear your dress tonight?”

      Amy caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She had been careful all evening, not hugging him and staying on his right side. So far she had managed to keep her injury hidden from Tim. He hated it when she worked with the horses.

      He waited. Quiet. Still. If Tim wanted her to tell him something, he only had to wait. Her own desire to fill the silence would draw out any secret she tried to hide.

      But tonight she didn’t feel like telling him and wouldn’t get drawn in by his patience. She still had to load the dumb horse in an old truck with no tailgate and take him somewhere. If Tim knew that, he would be after her to get someone to haul it for her, and she couldn’t afford that.

      “I spilled something on it when I was trying it on yesterday, and it was still wet when I came back from Kamloops,” she said finally.

      “Is it stained?”

      “I don’t think so.” She smiled back up at him. “I’ll have it clean for Sunday, don’t worry.”

      Tim laughed and pushed shut the door, leaving Amy squirming with a mixture of guilt and annoyance. She had stained the dress, and it was still damp, but she could easily have worn it.

      Except it wouldn’t have hidden the purple and blue hoof-shaped bruise decorating her bare shoulder. And now she had spun an even tighter web by promising she would wear it on Sunday, three days from now.

      Tim was too caught up in how she dressed, anyhow, she consoled herself. Until she met him, a shirt with buttons and pressed blue jeans was about as dressed up as she got during the week. Sundays, an old split riding skirt of her mothers did just fine. Anything else required too much care and maintenance.

      “It’s too bad you couldn’t wear it tonight,” Tim continued, getting in the car. “I love how it looks on you.” He reached over and Amy braced herself for a hug, but thankfully he only brushed his lips across her cheek.

      “Yah, it is too bad,” she agreed, looking ahead, feeling guilty about the lie in spite of her justification.

      They drove in silence until they reached Amy’s house. A yellow glow spilled out of a downstairs window.

      “Either your dad fell asleep reading, or he’s waiting up for you,” remarked Tim as they drove up the driveway.

      “Probably asleep.” Amy had begged him to stay at the party longer, but he pleaded exhaustion. Amy didn’t know what from. His own chores were minimal, and when he was done, he spent the rest of the day in front of the television. Rick had been polite. He didn’t mind the Henderson family, it was just Paul he disliked. Thankfully there were enough people there that he could avoid Paul most of the evening. But when Judd wanted to leave, Rick quickly volunteered to bring him home.

      As they drove past the lit window, Amy swallowed her disappointment. She should have had two parents at the party tonight. If it wasn’t for the fact that Tim’s parents hadn’t come, either, her resentment would have been even greater. At times like this she missed her mother all over again.

      Tim pulled up in front of the porch, put the car in gear and opened his door. Amy waited for Tim to open hers, thankful for the courtesy. Her arm hurt more now than this afternoon and she dreaded the affectionate good-night she usually got from Tim.

      Their footfalls on the gravelled walk were the only sounds in the darkness. They reached the house. Amy lifted her foot to take the first step up the stairs when Tim suddenly caught her by the shoulder, turned her around and almost dragged her into his arms.

      She fell against him, unable to stop the soft cry of pain suddenly stifled by his lips.

      He pulled her closer. Amy squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to cry out, to push him away from the agony pulsing down her arm. She tried to turn, to find a better fit, when just as suddenly, Tim released her.

      Amy took a step back to balance herself, supporting her right elbow.

      “What’s the matter, Amy?” Tim looked down at her, his eyes two dark smudges, his expression unreadable. “Why is it so hard to let me hold you? Why have you been avoiding me all night?”

      Amy waited until the pain settled down to a dull throb, then looked up at him realizing where her half truths had taken her. “I’m sorry, Tim. I should have told you earlier.” She looked away, guilt making her hesitate. “When I caught Sandover this afternoon, he must have hit me with a hoof. My shoulder’s all bruised and swollen.”

      “And that’s the real reason you’re not wearing your dress?”

      “I’m sorry,” she whispered, still looking down at the ground.

      “Why didn’t you tell me?”

      “I know you’d be angry.”

      “Amy, what kind of man do you take me for?” He reached over and caught her face in his hands, his thumbs gently forcing her to look up at him. He bent over and carefully brushed his lips against hers. “Please don’t tell me you’re afraid of me?”

      Amy shook her head, realizing how ludicrous it all sounded. She knew now, facing Tim’s gentle concern, that she had, as usual, underestimated him. “No, I’m not afraid of you. I guess I just don’t want you to worry about me.”

      “Well, I do. And that’s okay. I love you so much, and I don’t like to imagine you working with that crazy horse. I wish you’d get rid of him.” He gently drew her near, careful this time not to jostle her shoulder. “But what you told me isn’t as bad as what I thought all evening.”

      “And what was that?”

      Tim hesitated, a sigh lifting his chest. “I thought that Paul’s return gave you second thoughts about us.”

      “Never think that, Tim,” Amy pulled back to look up at Tim, her voice almost fierce. Amy clutched his shirt, disliking the turn of the conversation, afraid of his doubts. Doubts come before the engagement, not after. “I made a promise to you. I’m going to keep that promise.”

      Tim smiled and caught her hand in his. “I know, Amy. I’m sorry I doubted you.” He fingered her ring, a frown creasing his forehead. “I’ve spent most of the night having Paul pointed out to me. To the Hendersons’ credit, they all said I was better for you than Paul ever was.” He looked