A Warrior’s Heart by Misty M. Beller
19
Something was different about Evan.
Brielle watched him from the corner of her gaze as they followed the crowd through the corridor after the feast. He’d seemed to enjoy seeing everyone and watching the festivities. Especially when Monsieur Marley had started up the old French songs. At first, Evan had listened with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. But partway through the second ditty, his lips had begun to move, as though recalling words from long ago. He’d grown up in Scotland. Maybe he’d even traveled to old France and heard some of the ballads there.
A tiny spike of longing pressed in on her. She’d never thought she wanted to leave Laurent, but a trip like that sounded almost magical. The picture forming in her mind included Evan by her side. Something about him called to her. Made her think there was more to life than what she’d allowed in her tiny existence.
Voices in the corridor quieted after they passed the last of the chamber doors. Soon, they reached the entrance to the storage room. She pushed open the door and motioned for him to step in first. When she closed the partition behind herself, the quiet in the room seeped around them.
He turned to look at her, and it seemed as if he was struggling within himself. A long moment passed before he spoke. “That was very . . . interesting.” The way his expression shifted just before the words came out, he might have wanted to say something different.
She lifted her brows as she stepped close and untied his hands. “Food and music are two of the things my people enjoy most. You’re lucky Erik didn’t bring his mandolin. I should have remembered your mouth harp. You could have joined in.”
Evan smiled, his whole face softening. “Not sure I’m good enough to keep up with these musicians.” His tone grew almost wistful. “But I liked it. Every part. Your people are special, Brielle. I understand why you treasure them.”
The burn of tears rose up her throat and seared her eyes. She never cried, but his words churned so many emotions inside her, she could barely hold the drops back. She loved these people, too. This home she’d committed to protect. How could she reconcile the longing to leave with her intense love for this place?
She turned away from him and pretended to busy herself with the stack of arrows she’d left at her spot against the wall. Maybe he would take the hint and settle himself on his fur. A bit of distance would help her regain composure.
“Brielle?” Evan’s voice drifted across the space between them, the hesitance in his tone pulling her back around to face him. The soft light of the torches glimmered in his gaze. “Did I say something wrong?”
The earnestness of his tone nearly broke her. Why did he care so much? Why had she let herself get so close to him? Learn so much about him? See him as more than a stranger, as a potential threat to Laurent? He was a man who cared deeply, who was kind to her people, even the vulnerable. Who stood up for right, even when doing so might make his position more precarious.
Even as she looked at him now, his image blurred with the picture of him grinning as he sang along with the other villagers. He could have been one of them. Did he want to be?
She squeezed her eyes against the image, drawing in breath to still the whirling of her mind, the churning of her emotions. Why couldn’t she control herself?
“Brielle.” Evan’s voice sounded right in front of her, and she jerked her eyes open.
He’d closed the distance between them and now stared down at her with worry furrowing his brow. “What is it?” He touched her arm, and the contact made her freeze.
She stared into his eyes, held there by the warmth. The concern. The . . . attraction. Her breath cut off, stolen by the awareness sparking between them.
This man. He’d proven his goodness through every action. Every restraint. How could she question any longer?
How could she resist what every part of her longed for?
Evan’s gaze roamed Brielle’s face, cataloging each strong beautiful line. And those lips . . . He’d never had a mouth call to him as strongly as hers did.
He’d not meant to draw so close, but she’d looked so vulnerable, so . . . desperate. His every instinct pushed him to reach out. If he’d caused her pain, he had to fix it. If something else, he had to help.
He forced his gaze upward to her eyes, to a place where desire wouldn’t steal away his last bit of good sense.
But her eyes were no safer. Had she been looking vulnerable before? Now her gaze carried heat.
He had to clear the unwise thought of kissing her from his mind, so he struggled for something to say. “Is everything . . . ?” His voice came out breathier than it should, and his traitorous gaze dipped to her mouth again.
Her lips parted. Had he closed the distance between them or had she? He was near enough to touch her face now, and he reached up to cradle her jaw.
Her skin was softer than he’d imagined, and the touch of her sent a tingle all the way up his arm. Her eyes searched his, seeing all the way to his soul. He showed himself to her, the core of him, the part that wanted only good for her and her people. The part that longed to close the final space between them and press his mouth to hers.
Her eyes gave nothing of herself, but her lips . . .
Her lips reached up to his.
His own eyes drifted shut just as her mouth touched his. Sweet fire. With as much as this woman liked taking control, the strength in her kiss shouldn’t have surprised him. But the vulnerability in her touch swept through him, raising every part of him to life.
He returned the kiss, slipping his hand around her back, drawing her in, letting her feel his protection.
She wove her way into his very being as she responded. How had she become so important to him so quickly?
Yet she had, and with his kiss, he made a promise to her. No matter what happened, he would keep her safe. He would defend this woman who spent her life defending those around her.
Even if that meant protecting her from himself and the mission he was beginning to loathe.
He’d broken through her defenses. And the worst part was, Brielle couldn’t bring herself to regret it.
She could barely draw breath by the time Evan pulled back from the kiss. He lowered his forehead to hers, and she let her eyes drift shut again as she soaked in his nearness. She brushed the hair at the nape of his neck with her fingers.
Did she dare draw him back down for another kiss? She would never have thought she’d have the nerve for the first one. And with the tumult of longing inside her, maybe it was better to step back. She had to regain control.
As if he’d read her thoughts, he groaned and closed the distance between them again, pressing his mouth to hers in a gentle brush.
A brush that reignited the fire within her.
She kissed him back, a give-and-take that strengthened with each breath. She would soon burn to ash if she didn’t stop this.
With every bit of strength she possessed, she drew away. And this time, she forced her feet to step back, as well.
His hands slid from around her waist to her elbows, his fingers trailing down until they found her hands.
Her rough, cold-chapped hands. She was no lady. Did he truly know how unfit she was?
But he raised her fingers to his chest, cradling them there, then lifting her left hand to press a kiss on the backs of her fingers.
How could even a gentlemanly kiss like that send a shiver all the way through her?
He focused his gaze on hers as he held both her hands to his chest again. His eyes were so warm, so earnest. “I can’t bring myself to apologize for that, although maybe I should.”
Another surge of longing slid through her. All he had to do was look at her and she came apart in his hands. “You shouldn’t.”
Evan lay on his bed pallet as Philip sat against the wall, reading a Bible. Perhaps he should be doing the same, but he couldn’t seem to put two thoughts together unless they contained Brielle.
They’d only had a few minutes before Philip had come in for his night shift. For a minute, he’d thought Brielle might send Philip away. But a bit of time away from her would be good for him. Not only to settle every part of him that had sprang to life with her kiss, but he also needed time to sort through how he really felt.
And what he planned to do about it.
He’d never felt anything this strong for another person. His marriage with Sophia had started from mutual respect and need. She needed someone to provide a roof over her head after her father died, and he’d been tired of living his life so alone. They’d become friends, and through their two years of marriage, he’d thought it was love growing between them. It probably was love, but this stirring inside him now after two weeks was so much more than that feeling had ever been after two years.
Now, he only had to make sure he didn’t disappoint Brielle the way he’d failed Sophia.
He wouldn’t dream of asking her to leave her home, her community—her legacy—here in Laurent. Maybe she’d like to travel a little and see the world. He’d take her anywhere she wanted. But he had to be willing to leave all behind to make a life with her.
Who was he fooling? Between Brielle and the people he’d come to know here, he would leave his old life behind in a minute. If he could, he’d gladly head back to the States now and resign his commission, then come back and do whatever he could to woo her.
If she’d have him. Just because attraction sparked between them didn’t mean she thought enough of him to accept his courtship.
Besides, he still had a promise to fulfill, and his country depended on him. He was due back by the last day of December, and he had to find pitchblende before he returned.
If he told Brielle everything, would she allow him to leave Laurent and go around to the back side of the mountain to dig into the rock there? She could come with him if they felt the need to keep him under guard. Which they might after he revealed his connection to the army.
He closed his eyes and pictured the striated grooves in the stone there. That was exactly what the old trapper’s journals had described. And nearby, he’d find a darker copper.
His chest seized. Copper . . .
Just like . . . he struggled to pull up images from the feast. He’d been so focused on watching Brielle talking and laughing at the feast, the torchlight glinting off the copper in the walls and sparkling in her eyes.
He squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to home in on that wall in his mind’s eye. Numerous stripes of various hues, but copper had definitely been among them. The flickering glow of the torch might have distorted the color, though.
A weight pressed hard on his chest. Had he really found it? He couldn’t have, not here in the heart of their mountain where all their homes were built.
He dragged in a breath. Just because the rock showed splashes of copper in the light of a torch didn’t mean it was pitchblende. He wouldn’t know for sure until he chipped out a piece and tested it.
He fought to keep his breathing even, no matter how fast his heart raced. If he found pitchblende here, that meant it probably would also be in the other mountains around the area. He could still move forward with his mission.
He’d have to tell Brielle he found the mineral here, but he would assure her he planned to keep seeking it in other places. He couldn’t lie to her, nor could he keep the truth hidden any longer. Not if he wanted a life with her. A marriage couldn’t be built on lies or secrets, not the kind of love he wanted with her.
His thoughts shifted from what he would tell Brielle to imagining how he might get access to this wall to determine for sure if it was pitchblende. She might willingly give him access if he told her right away, but he hated to give weight to her fears in case he was mistaken about the mineral. And maybe when he revealed his mission, she wouldn’t believe his words of love. Maybe she would think it was all a ruse to get her to set him free.
His heart squeezed at the thought. Would she doubt him, despite the connection they shared? She would have every reason to distrust him.
He’d do better to find out for sure if what he saw was pitchblende. Even if it risked the growing trust she’d placed in him, it would be easier to sneak out under her relaxed guard.
He had to accomplish this last mission. With the war raging in the east, killing more lives daily, not a minute more could be wasted.