“Ten what?”
“Declan’s friends.” He eased her through a half-circle in his arms and commenced teasing the other side of her neck. “Amon said he’s had trouble with them. He thinks they’ll move on now that so few are left. They haven’t exactly received a warm welcome around here.”
Maggie searched for words among the jumble in her head. “Does that mean…we can go back?”
“To the cabin? No.”
“I don’t belong here, Ben. I ain’t fancy enough for this place.”
The Union blue, deep and dark and burning, sparked a fire in her blood, speeding flames to an ache he could satisfy. “Dumont doesn’t need another decoration. Neither do I. I need you, Maggie. I’ll send for the preacher in the morning.”
Her heart tried to speak, but her lips wouldn’t form words.
He heard nonetheless. A triumphant smile claimed his features as he lifted her in his arms. “My room, and my life, are empty without you. I came here to take you to my bed…but yours is closer.”
****
Crossing his legs at the ankles, Ben lounged against the waist-high cabinets built along one kitchen wall. Real coffee. He sucked another lungful of the sharp aroma while he savored the pleasant bite washing over his tongue. Best stay here next to the stove, with the pot in easy reach.
He stared down into the cup. “How bad is the situation?”
“We’re hanging on. Keeping food on the table.” Amon’s shrug didn’t mitigate the uncertainty in his tone. “Both armies took what they wanted. They promised to pay but never did. Between that, the blockade killing the cotton business, and the rustlers… We’ve got nothing in reserve.”
“Can we keep—”
“If we work really hard. The staff’s gone. A few hired hands stayed, but they haven’t been paid in months.”
Ben’s gaze connected with matching Collier-blue determination. “We have to try. We promised Father.” He slid a hand through his hair to the back of his neck. The ache gnawing at his soul took a big bite. “And Jenny.”
Shadows crept through the eyes below Amon’s pained frown. “Forgive yourself, Ben. She did. Jenny followed Pa because she couldn’t live without him. She loved us all, but she missed him something fierce.”
Therein lay the essence of the woman who had raised them: forgiving, gracious, more a lady than many with untainted white skin. He’d thrown her love in her face like a bucket of acid.
Ben clenched his jaw and tried to force a swallow. No luck. “I need to take care of something before the minister gets here.” His shoulder bumped his younger brother’s as he brushed by. “Next time I act like a sonofabitch—”
“I’ll whale the tar out of you…if Maggie doesn’t beat me to it.”
He huffed a wry breath. “Don’t cross her. She’s hell with a shotgun.”
****
Maggie hugged her waist. All the layers of fabric were a nuisance, and they must weigh fifty pounds. How did proper ladies negotiate doorways and chairs with skirts sticking out every which-way? And her hair—Lord have mercy. Amon’s wife possessed the most peculiar notions, but her fussing in some fancy foreign language must have done the trick. Bundled up on the back of Maggie’s head, not a single strand dared move.
Ben still hadn’t stopped staring. If his face froze in that odd expression, he’d have no end of regret. “Close your mouth, Ben Collier. Your tongue’s hangin’ out. Ain’t you never seen a woman in a dress before?”
“Plenty.” At last he blinked. “But never one like I’m looking at now.”
When he rose and stepped from behind the desk came her turn to stare. Despite the still-shaggy hair, the man cut a fine figure in a cravat and cutaway coat. How had she gotten so lucky? Ben’s will, his strength, his heart filled every corner of the room.
And he’d thrown a home and family into the bargain. The backs of her eyeballs burned. Thankful was too small a word.
So was love, but until she found a grander term, love would do.
“I have something for you.” He pulled a folded paper from inside his coat.
“What is it?”
“A wedding gift.” He unwound her hands from her waist, set the document in one and lifted the other to his lips. “Open it.”
His tongue teased the backs of her knuckles. Tiny ripples erupted deep in her belly and fanned out. “I can’t do that one-handed.”
“Let me help.” Pinching the top of the document between two fingertips and his thumb, he gave the paper a light shake.
Spreading her fingers to hold back the edges, she glimpsed her name and his signature before mist blurred her vision. “I don’t understand.”