She sat back on her heels. “Most of the afternoon?”
“And I couldn’t find anyone I liked.”
“I find it difficult to believe that after an entire afternoon you couldn’t find anyone.”
“Not one.”
“Maybe you were being too picky.”
“Of course I was being picky. I don’t think you should have just anyone coming out here and helping.”
“You do know I can fend for myself?” She rose to her feet and fisted her hands on her hips.
He shrugged. “I abhor the thought that you would need to fend off anyone. Thus, I decided Weston is the best choice.”
She opened her mouth as if to say something in protest. Then she halted and clamped her lips closed. From everything Philip had witnessed, she seemed to like Weston, but she wasn’t enamored with him. If rumors were true, Weston had already proposed numerous times. And she’d turned him down every single time.
Weston clearly wasn’t deterred and would probably wear her out with all his asking so that eventually she’d marry him. Maybe she knew it. Maybe that was why she wasn’t offering more of an objection to his plan to have Weston help her.
“I drove out to the mills to ask Weston to start coming by every day, but he wasn’t there.”
“I don’t want to bother Weston.”
“Believe me, that man wants to be bothered by you.” Every man wanted to be bothered by Felicity Courtney.
She shoved Philip again, this time his arm, and he had the urge to swipe her hand and drag her down on his lap, pull her in, and then taste the rosy flush in her cheeks before bending lower and tasting her neck and even the little bit of collarbone showing where her blouse was unbuttoned.
Just the prospect sent warmth through his veins to his fingers and toes.
“So after you left Weston’s mills, why didn’t you go to Fairplay? It’s closer. You could have made it there without freezing off every single one of your limbs.”
He hugged the blanket closer, his wet undershirt making him shiver. “Do you want the truth?” He couldn’t keep his voice from dropping a note with seriousness.
She grew stiff, as though afraid of his answer. “Yes, of course. I prefer only the truth.” The wariness from a short while ago was back in her countenance.
Did he dare admit that he’d wanted to see her again? Why not? “If you really must know, I came because I couldn’t bear the thought of you going without help for a single night.”
“Oh.” She barely breathed the word.
“And I wanted the chance to see you one more time.”
As soon as the words were out, the flames within the stove seemed to burst higher, making the room hot and the tension crackle. He’d said what he shouldn’t have, but for a reason he didn’t understand, he couldn’t make himself regret it.
And what about her? What did she think of his bold confession?
She narrowed her eyes. “So you didn’t return because you forgot something?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“No.”
“I forgot to kiss you goodbye?”
“Did you?”
His attention locked onto her lips. “Yes. And I’d like to rectify that right now.” Indeed, he would. Very much so. But he was well enough versed in banter to know that saying and doing were two different things. And even though he was teasing her about kissing, he wouldn’t actually go through with it.
She just shook her head while a smile hovered over her lips—a smile that made him want to scoop her up and let his fingers trace her lips.
“What else did you forget?” she persisted.
“You?” Melting ice dripped off his hair onto the blanket.
“Of your belongings?” Her tone filled with false exasperation.
He catalogued his bags that were still in the back of the wagon. Clearly she was still testing him. “Since I keep failing your quiz, why don’t you tell me what I forgot.”
“Then you really don’t know?” Her brown eyes brimmed with the usual intensity that he found too enticing.
He’d already made a fool of himself. Why stop now? “I didn’t forget anything, Felicity. I wish I had—then I’d have a noble excuse for being here instead of the simple fact that I wanted to see you again.”
She was quiet for several heartbeats. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“I know. But I’m glad I did anyway.”
This time her smile came out in full force, lighting up her eyes and making him momentarily breathless. He’d passed her test and made her happy. And that was something he wanted to keep on doing.
She reached for her cloak on a peg near the back door, then tossed him a saucy look. “Now that you’re half undressed, you won’t be able to stop me from going outside and taking care of the horse and wagon.”
The humor drained away.
With a smug smile, she opened the back door, and a gust of icy wind blew inside.
He lunged toward her. “I’ll be warmed up in a moment and will do it—”
She was already stepping out and closing the door behind her.
He reached for his shirt where she’d dropped it on the floor. It was still stiff with cold and ice.
The door banged open again, and she poked her head inside, her cheeks now red and her eyes flashing. “If you dare step a foot outside, I won’t give you back your camera.”
“My camera?”
“You left it here.” It was her turn to wink at him as he so often did with her. And she did so with slow exaggeration before wrestling the door closed again.
As soon as she was gone, he lowered himself into the chair. Then he laughed. Felicity was unlike any other woman he’d ever known, never afraid to speak her mind, put him in his place, and dole out to him the same measure of teasing that he gave her.
If he searched the whole world over, he knew he’d never find another woman like her. In fact, he had traveled much of the world and had never met anyone who compared with Felicity Courtney.
Was there a way he could keep her in his life? Was it possible that someday—after he was no longer running for his life—he could reconnect with her?
He hadn’t wanted to consider the possibility of Felicity being in his future. He hadn’t wanted to raise false hopes between them. And he hadn’t wanted to contemplate any relationship when he didn’t know if he’d live past tomorrow.
But with everything he’d given up, maybe he could allow himself this one wishful dream—the dream where he made it out of his nightmare alive and could be with Felicity again.
Maybe it was a reckless dream—one he’d eventually regret. But for now, he wanted to enjoy a last evening with her before he had to go.
8
Felicity lit the last candle on the dining room table, then stood back and admired her beautiful meal. A serving bowl with the homemade pasta and sauce sat beside the basket of garlic bread. On the opposite side of the candles, she’d placed a salad of greens with radishes, carrots, and peppers. She’d also baked an apple pie earlier in the afternoon and had given it a prominent position on the table.
Not to impress Philip. Why would she want to do that?