Rush, who had been rather red, turned rather white.
“Seems that way to me, too,” said Dag. “But, you know, there’s eight people who know the truth about what happened tonight. Granted, four of them will be telling lies when they drag home tonight, though I doubt even those will all be the same lies. Some kind of word’s going to get around.”
Dag let them both dwell on this ugly vision for a little, then said, “I’m not Reed’s and Rush’s linker, though I should have been. I will not lie to her for them. But I’ll give you this much, and no more: I’ll not speak first.”
Sorrel took this in almost without expression for a moment, clearly thinking through the deeply unpleasant family ramifications. Then he nodded shortly.
“Fair enough, patroller.”
Dag extended his groundsense briefly, for all that the proximity of the two shaken Bluefields made it painful. He said, “Reed is coming back to the house with Fawn, now. I’d prefer to leave him to you, Sorrel.”
“Send him down here to the barn,” said Sorrel, somewhat through his teeth.
“That I will, sir.” Dag gave a nod in place of his usual salute.
“Thank you—sir.” Sorrel nodded back. Fawn returned to the kitchen with Reed in some annoyance with him for dragging her out in the dark. She lit a few candle stubs on the mantel to lighten both the room and her mood. Better still for the latter was the sound of Dag’s long footfalls coming through from the front hall. Reed, who had ducked into Nattie’s weaving room for some reason, came out with an inexplicable triumphant smile on his face. She was about to ask why he was so happy all of a sudden when the look was wiped clean at the sight of Dag entering the kitchen. Fawn bit back yet more irritation with her brother. She had better things to do than fuss at Reed; hugging Dag hello was on the top of that list.
He gave her a quick return embrace with his left arm and turned to Reed. “Ah, Reed. Your papa wants to see you in the old barn. Now.”
Reed looked at Dag as though he were a poisonous snake surprised in some place he’d been about to put his hand. “Why?” he asked in a suspicious voice.
“I believe he and Rush have quite a lot to say to you.” Dag tilted his head and gave Reed a little smile, which had to be one of the least friendly expressions to go by that name Fawn had ever seen. Reed’s mouth flattened in return, but he didn’t argue; to Fawn’s relief, he took himself off. She heard the front door slam behind him.
Fawn pushed back her unruly curls. “Well, that was a fool’s errand.”
“Where did you two go off to?” Dag asked.
“He dragged me all the way to the back pasture to help rescue a calf stuck in a fence. If the brainless thing had got itself in, it had got itself out by the time we made it there. And then he wanted to walk the fence line while we were out there. I didn’t mind the walk, but I have things to do.” She stood back and looked Dag over. He was often not especially tidy, but at the moment he looked downright rumpled. “Did you have your quiet think?”
“Yes, I just spent a very enlightening hour. Useful, too, I hope.”
“Oh, you. I bet you never sat still.” She brushed at a few stray bits of bark and leaf stuck to his shirt, and observed with disfavor a new rip in his trouser knee stained with blood from a scrape. “Walking in the woods, I think. I swear, you been walking so long you don’t know how to stop. What, were you climbing trees?”
“Just one.”
“Well, that was a fool thing to try with that arm!” she scolded fondly. “Did you fall down?”
“No, not quite.”
“That’s a blessing. You be more careful. Climbing trees, indeed! I thought I was joking. I don’t want my bridegroom broken, I’ll have you know.”
“I know.” He smiled, glancing around. Fawn realized that, miraculously, they were actually alone for a moment. He seemed to realize this at the same time, for he sat in the big wooden chair by the hearth and pulled her toward him.
She climbed happily into his lap and raised her face for a kiss. The kiss went urgent, and they were both out of breath when their lips parted again.
She said gruffly, “They won’t be able to keep us apart much longer.”
“Not even with ropes and wild horses,” he agreed, his eyes glinting. His smile grew more serious. “Have you decided yet where you want us to be tomorrow night?
Ride or bide?”
She sighed and sat up. “Do you have a partiality?”
He brushed her hair from her forehead with his lips, likely because he had a notable reluctance for touching her about the face with his hook. It turned into a small trail of kisses along the arches of her eyebrows before he, too, sat back thoughtfully. “Here would be physically easier. We won’t get to Hickory Lake in a day, still less in a couple of hours tomorrow evening. If we camped, you’d have to do most everything.”
“I don’t mind the work.” She tossed her head.
“There is this. We won’t just be making love, we’ll be making memories. It’s the sort of day you remember all your life, when other days fade. Real question, then, the only really important one, is what memories of this do you want to bear away into your future?”
Now, there was a voice of experience, she thought. Best listen to it. “It’s farmer custom for the couple to go off to their new house, sleep under the new roof. The party goes on. If we stay, I swear I’ll end up washing dishes at midnight, which is not what I want to be doing at midnight.”
“I have no house for you. I don’t even have a tent with me. It’ll be a roof of stars, if it’s not a roof of rain.”
“It doesn’t look like rain. This high blue weather this time of year usually holds for three or four days. I admit I prefer inn chambers to wheatfields, but at least with you there’s no mosquitoes.”
“I think we might do better than a wheatfield.”
She added more seriously, thinking about his words, “This place is chock-full of memories for me. Some are good, but a lot of them hurt, and the hurtful ones have this way of jostling into first place. And this house’ll be full of my family. Tomorrow night, I’d like to be someplace with no memories at all.”
And no family.
He ducked his head in understanding. “That’s what we’ll do, then.”
Her spine straightened. “Besides, I’m marrying a patroller. We should go patroller-style. Bedroll under the stars, right.” She grinned and nuzzled his neck, and said seductively, “We could bathe in the river…”
He was looking immensely seduceable, eyes crinkling in the way she so loved to see. “Bathing in the river is always good. A clean patroller is, um…”
“Unusual?” she suggested.
And she also loved the way his chest rumbled under her when he laughed deep down in it. Like a quiet earthquake. “A happy patroller,” he finished firmly.
“We could gather firewood,” she went on, her lips working upward.
His worked downward. He murmured around his kiss, “Big, big bonfire.”
“Scout for rowdy squirrels…”
“Those squirrels are a right menace.” He looked down over his nose at her, though she didn’t see how he could focus his eyes at this distance. “All three?
Optimistic, Spark!”
She giggled, joyful to see his eyes so alight. He’d seemed so moody when he’d first come in.
To her aggravation, she could hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, Fletch or Whit, heading this way. She sighed and sat up. “Ride, then.”
“Unless we have a barker of a thunderstorm.”
“Thunder and lightning couldn’t keep me in this house one more day,” she said fervently. “It’s time for me to go on. Do you see?”
He nodded. “I’m beginning to, farmer girl. This is right for you.”
She stole one last kiss before sliding off his lap, thinking, Tomorrow we’ll be buying these kisses fair and square. Her heart melted in the tenderness of the look he gave her as, reluctantly, he let her slip out of his arm. All storms might be weathered in the safe harbor of that smile.
Chapter 19
Fawn flew through the irreducible farm chores the next morning. The milking fell to her; afterwards, waving a stick with resolute vigor, she sent the bewildered cows off to pasture at a brisk and unaccustomed trot. For practical reasons the rule about the marrying couple’s not seeing each other before the wedding was put aside till after the family breakfast, when Aunt Rose Bluefield arrived to help Mama with the food and the house, along with Fawn’s closest cousins and girlfriends Filly Bluefield and Ginger Roper to start the primping.