ask if he would. She knew he liked her here but didn’t completely believe her when she’d told him she was happy. Maybe it was the way they married with no promises of love. Or maybe it was more deeply rooted in his past, when his mother left him and never returned.
Aggie kissed his throat and Hank stilled as if returning to reality.
“We’d better get to work,” he said.
She nodded and stood, wishing he’d kissed her back just once.
An hour later Blue returned with another load of broken revolvers and a few rifles from Jeb, and a box of new tools shipped in from Wichita Falls. Aggie was so excited she went right to work, hardly noticing Blue moving Hank’s bench to the other side of the barn doors.
They worked all morning, their backs to one another. Hank sat on a stool with his leg propped on the crossbar of his workbench. She preferred to stand when she worked with rifles. He asked her to pick up a hammer he dropped, and once she asked if he’d help her pry a jammed cartridge shell out. Neither talked of anything else.
At noon Aggie went to the house and brought back leftover meat and cheese for lunch. She insisted he rest his leg while he ate. She talked about a few of the problems with the rifles, but he said little. His eyes were always looking beyond the barn.
When Blue returned that evening, Hank asked if the hired hand would lend him a shoulder to brace against so he could make it to the house.
Aggie almost cried. He’d worked too hard. He should have turned in hours ago and gotten all the weight off his leg. She grabbed her tools and ran for the house. “I’ll work upstairs for a while,” she said as she passed the two men. “You rest, dear.”
“I’ll want no supper,” Hank answered. “I think I’ll call it a night.”
She wanted to argue that he needed to eat, but she didn’t want to nag in front of Blue. Instead, she went to her little space above the kitchen and worked, telling herself tomorrow would be better.
She worked until the box of guns was repaired. When she finally crawled into bed, she wished there was something that could make Hank happy, or at least make him believe that she was happy. At some point, when he’d been little, he’d stopped believing he could be loved. That’s why he could offer the partnership—it had been safe, there wouldn’t be a disappointment, for love wasn’t part of the deal.
Shoving a tear away, she silently scolded herself for crying, then she realized why she couldn’t stop. Hank didn’t believe in love and she loved him. She might never be able to say the words or make him believe, but she loved him.
An idea struck her. Slipping from the bed, she ran back upstairs. Within minutes another quilt was hung, this one on the blank wall of their bedroom. Tomorrow, no matter what the weather, Hank would wake to a sunny day filled with sunflowers and morning glories.
Laughing to herself, Aggie slipped out of her nightgown and into his flannel shirt. Then she crawled in beside her husband. As she moved close to his warmth, he circled her and pulled her against him. His slow, steady breathing told her that his action was more instinct than thought. She molded against him and whispered, “Good night, dear,” a moment before she fell asleep.
Chapter 14
In the darkness Hank came awake one pleasure at a time. Aggie’s hair tickled his nose, her cheek lay against his heart, and her breast pressed into his side. For several minutes all he could manage was breathing. He’d been in a bad mood all day yesterday, battling pain and the fear that someone might try to hurt Aggie. After an hour of berating himself, he’d decided she probably didn’t want to come to bed with him.
But she had. She’d not only shared the bed, she’d curled up against him. He’d managed to live another day without her running out on him.
Finally, he slipped his hand along her back and cupped her round little bottom. She wiggled with his movement, then settled against him. Hank smiled, thinking he’d try harder. “Aggie,” he whispered.
She raised her head, her hair wild around her. “Is it morning already?”
“No.” He shoved her curls away from her face. “But close. The horizon is already beginning to glow.”