The Outlaw of Cedar Ridge. Lori Connelly

bed ropes creaked. At the sound of a soft grunt of pain, Evie glanced up. Ben had rolled onto his side. Propped up on one arm, he focused on her. The expression on his battered face made it clear that her husband wanted an answer.

      She finished her task then met his gaze. Her hands curled into fists, fingernails bit into her skin as she contemplated a calm response when pent up resentment clamored for release.

      “You … startled me.”

      “How so?”

      “It’s been a long time since you’ve touched me.”

      “Why?”

      “We…” Evie shook her head. The thought of explaining their relationship overwhelmed her. She simplified. “Haven’t been getting along.”

      “Why?”

      His repeated one word question relayed demand. “It’s complicated.”

      “I’m not going anywhere, take your time.”

      “I’d rather not.”

      The rigid set of his shoulders and a muscle that twitched along his jaw reflected exasperation. “I need to understand what’s going on between us.”

      “I know.” Evie blew out a breath, flattening her hands to rub sweaty palms on her skirt then stood. “I’ll explain.” Her tone wobbled. “Just not now.”

      Control slipping, Evie strode across the room. She moved the table, hurried outside and shut the door behind her. An almost desperate need to be alone drove her.

       Running away again?

      Her steps faltered. His voice sounded so clear, Evie glanced back at the cabin. Solid wood remained between her and Ben. While he’d made that accusation often before, today it was merely an echo in her mind. Shame bled through her. She bit her lip then pressed on.

      Every breath became a tiny cloud of frost. Dew dampened the hem of her skirt as she walked to the barn. Inside, hidden from her husband’s sight, waves of emotion washed over her as she leaned against a rough wall. Uncertain if she felt sad, angry, relieved or resentful, Evie sensed the tangled mess within her threatening to tear her apart.

      Her breath came in hiccups. Both hands came up, covered her face, but Evie didn’t cry, just shuddered. Minutes went by before she regained control. She pulled in a deep breath, held it a moment then released it. Her spine straightened, hands lowered, and she at last tackled chores.

      To care for a few chickens and a horse didn’t take long but it was more than enough time to worry over the hard conversation Ben would likely insist on having. Feet all but dragging, Evie started toward the cabin a short time later, a small basket of eggs on her arm.

      A pair of butterflies, gold and brown, danced on the breeze in front of her. Beauty held her gaze a few minutes then flew away when she reach the cabin. The sound of hoof beats gave her an excuse not to open the door. Evie put the basket down then turned to watch a short, large man ride up on a bay horse.

      Her eyes narrowed. If this stranger meant harm, Ben could do little but bleed. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders and moved directly into the man’s path.

      He pulled up in front of her. “Mrs. Rolfe.”

      “Yes.”

      “I’m William Sims.”

      “Mr. Sims.”

      “Do you know who I am?”

      An arrogant man who doesn’t dismount so he can try to intimidate me. Short on sleep and temper, Evie wasn’t in the mood for games. “You’ve given me your name.”

      “I’m the bank manager.”

      “Oh.” She tried to keep irritation out of her voice. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

      “Didn’t your husband mention me?”

      “I’m afraid not.”

      His mouth tightened. Mr. Sims studied her a moment then with a loud put upon wheeze, dismounted. “I bought out the loan on this place.”

      “I see.” Evie felt the blood drain from her face. Her mind blanked for a second then she blurted out, “Did you have proof?”

      “Proof? Are you calling me a liar?”

      “No, I’m asking to see legal paperwork, Mr. Sims.”

      His jaw clenched. “I didn’t bring any.”

      “Well, when you do we can discuss-”

      “I didn’t ride all the way out here to chat.” He stepped forward, got in her face, one hand raised, his forefinger pointing at her. “I want you and your husband off my property today.”

      Her heart raced, she abandoned her argument in panic. “But Ben’s hurt. We need-”

      “Not my problem.”

      “A few weeks … even one-”

      “No.” Dark brown eyes reflected no emotion, empty, cold.

      “Please.”

      Silence ruled for a moment while they stood, staring at each other, then his gaze wandered down the length of her body. Time seemed to slow. He reached out and fingered a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid. Her mouth dry, she trembled, barely breathing.

      “Perhaps we could work out an arrangement.”

      Her knees threatened to buckle. “We could pay some rent.”

      “That isn’t what I have in mind.”

      Fear crawled down her spine.

      She inched back.

      He followed her.

      The urge to turn and run was strong but Evie was too scared to take her eyes off him.

      “That’s all I have to offer.”

      His hand brushed her arm. “You’ve a great deal to offer.”

      The calm tone made a bizarre contrast to the menace she read in his gaze, Evie froze, staring at him. He smiled. Her eyes widened. Before she could move, he lunged, seizing her. His fingers dug into her shoulders. She jerked free with a panicked cry.

      Frantic, Evie stumbled backwards until she hit the cabin wall. He pursued, trapping her against it, with a hand pressed against the logs on either side of her head. Terror slid like ice in her veins.

       Click. Click.

      The distinctive sound of a shell being jacked in froze the banker. Evie looked in the direction of the sound. Ben stood propped against the doorframe, naked as the day he was born, the rifle in a firm grip aimed at William Sims.

      “Get the hell away from my wife.”

      Mr. Sims backed up, hands in the air. “I meant no harm.”

      “Ride off.”

      “We need to discuss-”

      “Between his eyes or between his legs, sweetheart?”

      The banker paled. He hustled to his horse, mounted and rode away at a swift pace.

      Evie darted to Ben’s side, caught him as he started to sag.

      “I might need your help getting back to bed.”

      “What were you thinking?” With one hand, Evie grabbed the rifle, setting it inside against the wall while she placed herself under his right arm for support. “You’ve probably torn your stitches.”

      “You’re worth it.”

      “Oh, so now you remember me?”

      “No.”

      The stark word felt oddly like rejection.