The Longing (34 page)

Boyd studied him for several seconds before
giving a light nod, as if to say “I believe you.” “Duke’s going to
come see you later, but I’ve asked the rest of the crew to give you
a couple of days to heal before they start tromping through your
bedroom.”

“I’ll be out of this room tomorrow,” Kyle
said, already feeling caged and restless.

“I’m too exhausted to kick your stubborn
ass,” Boyd said, sitting down on the nightstand with a sigh, “but
if you even think about coming back to the depot or the lumberyard
until the doctor approves it, I swear to God, Radford, Duke, and I
will pound you until you can’t move.” Kyle snorted, but Boyd’s
expression brooked no argument. “I’ll take care of things until
you’re back on your feet. You should be grateful to be alive, Kyle.
Take some time to rest. Spend some time with Amelia. This was just
as hard on her as it was on us.”

Kyle sank back into the softness of the
pillows, but even the slight movement made the tiny burns on his
skin sting. His leg still throbbed and his back and head ached.
“You know, I’ve always thought I had to look after you and Duke,”
Kyle said, his throat hoarse from the aftereffects of smoke and
emotion. “But I never realized that I depended on the two of you,
too.” He met Boyd’s eyes. “I didn’t run the depot alone, Boyd. You
and Duke were always here to help me.”

Boyd snorted and braced his palms on his
knees. “I’ve been helpful, all right. All I’ve ever done is
irritate you.”

“I won’t disagree with that.”

Boyd smirked and stretched his legs out in
front of him.

“You’ve also made me laugh, Boyd. Without you
to push me and prod me back into living, our responsibilities would
have buried me in depression.”

They sat in silence for a minute or so, then
Boyd said, "Richard told me what happened. I told him he was a
rotten bastard for what he did, and he didn’t disagree. He knows
what he’s done to your friendship, Kyle, and it’s killing him.”

“Well, I’m wondering if it nearly killed
me.”

“He didn’t set the fire. He was at the tavern
all night, but if there had been even a hint of suspicion, I would
have killed him myself.”

Kyle met Boyd’s eyes and knew with chilling
certainty that Boyd was serious.

Boyd tugged his filthy cap over his head and
stood. “I’m tired, Kyle. I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

“You’d better. I want to know what’s going on
at the mills.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Boyd tried to grin, but his
eyes were weary, his face stained and smudged from the emotional
war he’d just endured. “If Amelia gives me a good report on your
cooperation, I’ll give you a report on the mills.”

Kyle snorted and Boyd turned toward the door.
“Wait a minute,” Kyle said, stopping his brother from leaving. Boyd
turned back and Kyle silently wished his brother success in
whatever he decided to do with his life. “When I’m healthy enough
to come back to work, I’ll mortgage my house to get you the money
for the tavern.” Boyd’s brows lowered, but Kyle barreled ahead.
“The lumberyard is doing better, and now that I know what was
happening to Tom’s money, I’m confident I can rebuild his mill. I’m
not going to stand in your way anymore.”

“You never were, Kyle. I had enough money in
my own account to buy the tavern from Pat. He’s been running it for
me for two months now.”

“What?” Kyle gaped at his brother. “Then why
were you talking about getting a loan from Richard?”

“Because I thought we might need the money to
keep the mills running. I would have mortgaged the tavern back to
the bank.”

Kyle stared in stunned disbelief. “Why didn’t
you tell me you’d bought the tavern?”

“Because you needed me to be here.”

It
was past midnight when Kyle felt four tiny paws pad across his
stomach. He lifted his head off the pillow and stared down at
Cinnamon. “How did you get up here?”

She ducked away from his accusing gaze and
crawled up his chest, nuzzling his chin until he laughed and swept
his tender palm over her soft fur.

“You little weasel. You’ve been taking
wheedling lessons from Rebecca and Amelia, haven’t you?”

He scooped Cinnamon into the crook of his arm
and sat up, glad for the company. For the fourth consecutive night
he’d slept alone while Amelia stayed in the guest room in
consideration of his discomfort.

Since the fire, his mother had been staying
with them, and Kyle and Amelia hadn’t had a moment of privacy.
She’d waved away any attempts to talk, telling him they would have
plenty of time to do so after he healed.

Between Amelia and his mother, Kyle hadn’t
been left alone during the day or evening unless he was in the
bathroom. Tonight, he’d finally convinced his mother to go home by
telling her that he was feeling strong and was barely suffering any
pain. Of course, he’d been stretching his recovery a bit, but he
really did feel better, and her concern was suffocating him. So
she’d hugged Amelia goodbye and promised to come back and help her
can preserves in the morning.

Kyle left his bed and wandered through the
dark house with Cinnamon tucked in his arm. The night silence
mocked him and he nearly slugged the wall to break the monotonous
sound of peepers and his own tense breathing. He stumbled over the
rocking chair leg as he’d done almost every night since Amelia had
moved it. He clutched Cinnamon and kept himself from falling, but
instead of cursing, Kyle felt like howling out his heartache.

From the moment he’d gone to her father’s
lumberyard, Kyle had begun systematically killing Amelia’s ability
to laugh. He hadn’t meant to hurt her any more than he’d meant to
cause Tom’s collapse, but his own self-serving actions were at the
root of her heartache.

She’d said they had to learn to forgive each
other, but Kyle wondered how she would ever manage to forgive him
after everything he’d done to cause her heartache.

Kyle wandered into the kitchen. The bathtub
still sat beside the stove where she’d left it because she’d taken
her bath late and was too tired to bother draining it. Her
washcloth hung over the edge of the tub and Kyle ached to hear the
sound of Amelia’s laughter, of her pouring water over her head and
shoulders while she bathed.

He stuck his fingertips in the cool
bathwater. Evelyn had told him to look beneath the surface of life,
but all Kyle could see as he stood alone in his kitchen with a
purring fur ball in his arm was Amelia’s smiling face glistening
with water, her laughter filling the room as she smacked him with
her wet towels. She’d been vibrant that day, filled with wild
exuberance from the minute they put her little rowboat in the
creek, until he poured her into bed because she’d drunk too much
wine at his mother’s birthday party. She loved adventure. She was
passionate and exciting, and he wanted that spirited woman back in
his life.

He turned toward the guest bedroom, vowing he
would find a way to apologize, to express the depth of his
feelings.

o0o

Amelia opened her eyes to see Kyle standing
beside her bed with Cinnamon in his arms. She’d always thought of
Kyle as strong and invincible, but seeing him look so vulnerable
broke her heart.

As long as she lived, she would never forget
the horrendous roaring sound of the flames as they engulfed the
warehouse, or the taste of fear in her mouth knowing Kyle was
trapped inside the inferno. He’d been so panicked when they pulled
him from the building, his eyes so wild, that Amelia knew a few
minutes longer and he would have died alone, confused and
frightened. The thought made her throat ache, but it was also a
feeling of self-pity that caused her eyes to mist as she sat up in
bed. She loved him so desperately that for one reckless moment, she
considered throwing away her last shred of pride and begging Kyle
to love her.

Instead, she tipped her chin and tried to see
his eyes in the moonlight and night shadows. “Are you all right?”
she asked, wondering if he was suffering discomfort from the burns,
or if Cinnamon had disturbed him.

“No,” he said, his voice hoarse. His presence
overwhelmed the tiny room as he gazed down at her. “I’m filled with
remorse and regret and a chest full of feelings I don’t know how to
express. I’m going to try, though. No matter how badly this comes
out, Amy, I need to tell you what I feel.”

Seeing the painful expressions play across
his face as he gazed down at her was more than Amelia could endure.
She had suppressed her raw emotions after the fire, trying to give
Kyle time to heal, but she needed to know what he was carrying
inside him. “I don’t care how it comes out, Kyle. All I’m asking is
that you be honest with me.”

“I promise,” he said, sitting on the bed
beside her. He looked down as Ginger climbed onto his lap to curl
up beside Cinnamon. Amelia waited for Kyle to go on, but he seemed
to have hit a shoal.

“Kyle?” His eyes met hers. “Do you love
Catherine?” she asked, needing to know, and sensing Kyle needed a
hard shove to get him talking again.

“She’s a friend in my past who gave me a
place to go when I needed one. That’s all.”

“Are you saying you don’t love her,
then?”

“It depends on what you call love, Amy.
Catherine is a good woman who needed my friendship. I felt
protective of her, and I cared about her. If that’s love, then yes,
I love her.” He stroked the kittens, but looked at Amelia. “If
friendship is another form of love, then I love Evelyn, too. I care
about my brothers and my mother, and I adore Rebecca, and even our
demon twins. That’s love, isn’t it?”

“Of course, Kyle. That’s not what I’m
asking.”

“I know.” He gave her a tender smile. “There
are many shades of love, Amy, but only one that is filled with
passion, that can make a heart soar or send it crashing onto the
rocks. Until I married you, I didn’t know that love existed. I
didn’t know I’d be willing to lay down my pride and bare my soul to
show you how much I care. But I will, Amy. When I look at you, I
see a woman who loves me, someone I want to spend the rest of my
life with. I love every flaw that makes you unique and every
expression that crosses your face.”

Her eyes welled up. “I do love you,” she
said, her voice filled with so much longing for his love in return
that it came out as a whisper.

“I know you do. And I love the girl who
dresses in my old shirt and those britches that drive me crazy. I
love the sassy lady who kicked me in the shin, and the passionate
woman who makes love to me all night.”

His beautiful confession of love left her
speechless.

“You know what I see when I look in your
eyes?” he asked. She shook her head and he lowered the kittens to
the bed. He reached out and caressed her bare arms with his thumbs.
“I see strength and tenderness. Resilience and intelligence. I see
a child who likes to play and a little girl who misses her father.
I see a woman who needs a child of her own and a daughter who will
always need her mother. I see my own longing for companionship,
passion, and love reflected in your eyes.”

To her shock, Kyle knelt beside the bed on
one knee and clasped her hand between his own. “My days are empty
and meaningless without you. I never had the opportunity to ask you
to marry me, Amy, but I can still ask you to be the love of my
life.”

To see her proud, arrogant husband on his
knees, spilling every emotion in his heart, made her eyes flood.
“Don’t kneel for me,” she said, wanting to tug his hand to make him
stand, but afraid to hurt his tender skin.

“I don’t care about the past—yours or mine.
What matters is our future.” Sincerity filled his eyes as he stood.
“Your past is what caused you to become the woman you are today;
strong, resilient, intelligent.
That
is the woman I’ve
come to love. I don’t care about Richard, except that he hurt
you.”

“You really don’t?”

“No. All I want is for you to be happy.”

Amelia wiped the tears from her face. “I
don’t believe you’re really saying these things.”

“I should have told you this long ago.” He
leaned down and kissed her. “I want to start over, Amy. I want to
do things right and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I
want to make you laugh again.”

“We can’t start over, Kyle. We need to
remember what we’ve learned and use it to make our future stronger.
We need to keep going right from this moment forward.”

“How ever you want to do it, Amy. I’ll go
forward, or start over, or whatever it takes to make you happy.” He
brushed the backs of his fingers across her wet cheek. “Is there
room for two in this bed?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Pain filled his eyes as he lowered his hand.
“You need time yet. I understand.”

“No you don’t.” Amelia slipped out of bed.
With care for his burns, she gently took his hand. “I want us to
move forward, together, in our own bed.” She lifted her face and
kissed him. “Take me to our room.”

The tension in his body seemed to drain away
with his relieved sigh. “Really?” he asked, and she nodded.

They hurried through the parlor and into
their bedroom. The instant they were inside, Kyle cupped her jaw
and gazed down at her. Amelia prepared for the touch of his lips,
but he didn’t kiss her. “I have one last confession to make.”

She clapped her palm over his mouth. “Don’t
you dare tell me anything that’s going to break my heart.”

He nodded and she uncovered his smiling lips.
“I think we should get a couple more cats.”

“What?”

“We could get the rest of Missy’s litter if
you want.”

“No!” A breathless laugh escaped her and she
shook her head, barely able to believe her ears. “Are you
serious?”

“No,” he said, “I just wanted to hear you
laugh.”