Worth the Wait Read online

  Frannie’s laughter echoed behind her. “Don’t worry. Jed will have finished the job for you. I’m sure your man’s all patched up by now.”

  Patched up and waiting by the end of the wagon. Tori stumbled to a halt when the large figure straightened and took a single step in her direction.

  They both stood there, fifteen yards apart, eyes for no one but each other.

  Could she do it? Tori fisted her hands in the fabric of her skirt. Could she tell him her secret? Her stomach knotted as old fear warred with new hope. He’d probably guessed most of it by now anyway, but he didn’t know the worst part. That what had happened was her fault.

  CHAPTER

  10

  Ben’s gaze never wavered from Tori as she slowly closed the distance between them. He wanted to reach for her. To hold her. Comfort her. Erase whatever ugliness that wastrel Paul had inflicted. But he kept his arms at his sides, not wanting to do anything to cause her further distress. He’d let her dictate what happened next.

  She halted a few steps away, her attention flitting to the new bandage wrapped around his brow.

  “How’s your head?” she finally asked.

  He couldn’t care less about his blasted head. “Fine.” He took a step toward her, his hand outstretched, not to touch her—just to swallow the remaining distance between them. “Tori, I . . .”

  She jerked away from him, then caught herself and forced a false smile to her lips. “There’s a . . . a log over there beyond the barn.” She pointed to a spot behind him. “Will you . . . sit with me there?”

  Her eyes pleaded, the blue depths a little timid, perhaps even fearful, yet there was a familiar spark of determination there as well. And something else. Something resembling a tender shoot of trust. His heart ricocheted in his chest. He could build on trust. Nurture it, feed it, help it grow into something sturdy, strong, and indestructible.

  Suddenly eager for a chat, he nodded and gestured for her to lead the way, not even wincing when the motion set his head to throbbing again. Neither said a word as they strolled across the yard, past the barn entrance, and around to the side where the log lay in the dirt against the barn wall, obviously set there to serve as a bench of sorts.

  Tori seated herself in a slight hollow positioned just left of center. Ben eased himself down beside her, leaving enough space so as not to crowd her, but sitting close enough that when he angled toward her, his knees nearly brushed hers.

  She folded her hands in her lap then slowly, courageously, brought her gaze up to meet his. “I have a secret, Ben. I’m sure you’ve gathered some of the more pertinent details already, but there are other pieces that I’ve kept buried. Things I’ve told no one. Not even Emma.”

  Her focus dropped back down to her lap, and her hands fidgeted with the edge of her jacket. “I thought I could bury them deeply enough that they couldn’t harm me,” she said, her voice small. “But I was wrong. I’ve recently come to understand that secrets are like lies. They take a toll on their keeper. They erode one’s soul until nothing is left but a brittle shell.”

  She raised her head, and her blue eyes pierced him with a craving so stark, he felt it in his gut. “I don’t want to be a shell anymore, Ben. I want to be set free. And the only way I can do that is to voice the truth. Will . . . will you listen?”

  Emotion swelled so high inside him, it nearly closed off his throat. She trusted him—trusted him enough to open the most hidden places of her heart to his view. It was a gift so rare and beautiful, he could scarcely fathom it.

  Unable to keep still a moment longer, he reached out and gathered her folded hands into his own. He kept his touch featherlight, as if he were holding an injured bird. He didn’t want her to feel trapped, but neither did he want her to feel alone. “You can tell me anything, Tori. I will hold your confidence sacred, and I will listen without judgment. You have my word.”

  She nodded then turned to stare at some invisible point in the distance. “I was sixteen when I met Paul Crowley. He was newly returned to town after being gone more than a year. There was talk about something scandalous in his past, but no one spoke of details. To be honest, the hint of danger surrounding him only made him more attractive to the girls in town, me included. He was rich, handsome, and he had this way of talking that made you feel as if you were the only person he saw.”

  Ben hated him already. Slippery flimflam artist. He knew the type. All shine, no substance. Just the kind of fella to turn a girl’s head if she were too young or inexperienced to see through his charade.

  “One day he came into the store, running an errand for his mother. It was late afternoon, so I was working the counter alone while my mother prepared dinner and my father started the nightly inventory tallies. I helped him select a spool of black thread and a packet of sewing needles, the type I knew Mrs. Crowley preferred. He was witty, charming, and so effusively appreciative of my assistance that I was instantly smitten. When I handed him his parcels, he took my hand along with them and brushed a kiss against my knuckles. My foolish heart fluttered like some kind of imbecilic dragonfly, too stupid to recognize his insincerity.”

  She spoke of her younger self with such scorn. Ben wanted to jump in and offer excuses on her behalf, remind her she’d been young and innocent of the manipulations of dishonorable men. However, he sensed she’d not welcome the interruption, so he held his tongue and gently rubbed his thumb along the edge of her hand instead.

  “He made a point to stop by the store nearly every evening after that,” she continued, her brow furrowed as if she were scowling at the memories. “He seemed to know when I would be alone in the store. He must have watched and waited for my father to go into the back room before coming through the front. I thought the stolen moments romantic. The more clandestine the better.

  “After a fortnight of such visits, he invited me to go driving with him after church on Sunday. I begged my father to let me go, but he refused. He said he didn’t approve of me spending time with Paul. That he didn’t trust the man. I was sure my father was just being narrow-minded and overprotective. He didn’t know Paul the way I did. Didn’t understand our connection.

  “So when Paul asked me to sneak out the next night and meet him down by the old pond, I did just that. I willfully disobeyed my parents and ignored every twinge of my conscience that tried to warn me of danger. I thought we’d walk together in the moonlight. Perhaps Paul would even steal a kiss. By the time I realized he had much more than kissing in mind, it was too late. I screamed and fought him as hard as I could, but he was too big. Too strong. And we were so isolated, no one heard my cries.”

  Helpless fury stormed through Ben. How he wished he’d been there to hear. To rush to her rescue, to spare her all that pain. But he hadn’t been there. No one had been there.

  With Herculean effort, Ben managed to keep his hold on Tori gentle instead of clenching his hands into fists as instinct demanded. Heaven knew he wanted to pound something. Preferably Paul Crowley. Tori didn’t need his anger, though. She needed his understanding. So instead of balling his hands into fists, he merely clenched his jaw and continued stroking the backs of her fingers.

  “My parents were awake and waiting for me when I came home,” Tori continued. “Mama took one look at me and broke into tears. Daddy just looked disappointed, which made my shame all the greater. He turned his back and left the room without a word. Mama held me, cried with me, then helped me bathe. After she tucked me into bed, I heard her arguing with my father, demanding that he bring charges against Paul for what he’d done. But Daddy refused. He wanted to flay Paul’s hide for what he’d done to his little girl, of course, but they couldn’t risk crossing the Crowleys. They owned the bank that held the mortgage to the store. If he brought charges against Paul, the bank would call in the loan and send them into foreclosure. They’d lose everything. Better to pretend like nothing had happened.”

  Now Ben wanted to pound on Tori’s father. Protecting one’s livelihood was all well and g
ood, but not at the expense of one’s daughter. Family came first. Always.

  “Daddy didn’t let me work the counter any more after that. I stayed in the back room inventorying supplies and bringing the ledgers up to date. I didn’t mind the ostracism. I wanted to hide. From everyone. But after a couple months, I realized that I’d not be able to hide my shame for much longer. I was carrying a babe.”

  Ben squeezed her hands lightly. “Lewis.”

  Tori nodded. “Yes. Another catastrophe for the store. An unmarried girl in the family way would bring shame upon the Adams name and hurt business. So Daddy sent me away before my secret could be revealed. I moved in with his sister in Whitesboro. She took me in and treated me like a servant even though I knew my father was sending her money for my upkeep. She ordered me to keep my distance from my younger cousins, afraid they’d be tainted by my immoral influence. She insisted I call her Mrs. Stanbridge, too. Never Aunt Wilma. No one was to know we were actually related. She was simply a godly woman offering shelter to an indigent girl out of Christian charity.

  “I put up with her self-righteous hypocrisy as long as I could, believing I had nowhere else to go. But when Lewis was born everything changed.”

  For the first time since this awful tale began, a smile touched Tori’s face. She met Ben’s gaze fully, pride and love radiating from her in waves. “Holding my son in my arms, I knew I would give my life to keep him safe. So when Aunt Wilma called him the devil’s spawn and informed me that a man from the foundling home over in Denison would be by to collect him as soon as a wet nurse could be found, I knew I had to leave. I sold the brooch my mother had given me for my sixteenth birthday and left within the week.

  “I made it as far as Gainesville and took refuge in the church there. The preacher and his wife found me a position working for one of the widows of their congregation, doing her laundry along with cooking and tending house. The same work I’d been doing for my aunt, only now I earned a wage. After the first year, Mrs. Barry allowed me to take in extra laundry to increase my earnings. I worked sunup to sundown and saved every penny I could spare.

  “After two years, I’d put enough by to make a down payment on a small shop I’d had my eye on. Only, no banker in town would loan me the money I needed to stock it. Until I found Emma and heard of her dream of a women’s colony.”

  “And ended up in Harper’s Station,” Ben said, “running a thriving business and proving all those fools wrong who doubted your ability to succeed.” He expected her to smile, for her eyes to flash in triumph, but she slowly shook her head and tugged her hand free from his hold.

  “That wasn’t the point of the story, Ben,” she murmured.

  He disagreed. That was exactly the point. She’d overcome tremendous adversity to achieve success in a world where her youth, feminine gender, and motherhood would have handicapped others. She was the most amazing woman he’d ever met. But she was pulling away from him again, physically creating distance by separating herself from his touch.

  “The point,” she said as she folded her arms around her middle, “is that I brought all that trouble upon myself. I was a rebellious, disobedient girl. If I had just listened to my father—”

  “Stop right there.” Ben snapped, surprising both of them with the sharpness of his tone. Her eyes flew wide as her face jerked upward. “You made one mistake, Tori. One bad decision. But that does not make you responsible for what happened. The minute you said no, all the blame shifted to the snake who lured you away from the safety of your home. All the blame. He is the criminal, not you. He is the one who deserves to feel shame. Not you.”

  Ben captured her hands and gently unfolded her arms from around her waist. He clasped her fingers and brought both hands up to his mouth. He pressed his lips to the back of one and then the other. Her breath caught, but she didn’t pull away.

  She’d opened the inner recesses of her heart to him. He supposed it was only fair that he do the same for her.

  “I love you, Victoria Adams. I have for a long time. And what you’ve told me today only makes me love you more. I admire your courage, your fighting spirit and inner strength. I hate the path that carried you to Harper’s Station, but I thank God every day that he brought you to a place where we could meet.”

  He pulled her hands to his chest and placed them palm down against the thudding of his heart. “As steadfast as your love is for Lewis, that’s how strong my love is for you. It’s not going to go away. Ever. Someday, I’ll convince you to become my wife, Tori. To let me be a father to your son. But today, all I ask is that you believe me when I say I love you.”

  “You . . . you love me?” Her voice trembled and her bright blue eyes swam with wonder.

  Ben smiled and nodded. “With all my heart.”

  “Even after all I’ve told you?” She looked so bewildered, he worried she’d convince herself to push his words aside.

  Ben flattened her hands more tightly against his chest, wanting her to feel his intensity, his desire to never let her go. “Especially after all you’ve told me.”

  She peered up at him, apparently at a loss for words. But words had their limits. Perhaps another communication style would prove more convincing.

  Slowly, gently, Ben ran his hands up Tori’s arms to her elbows. With a small tug, he brought her body closer to his, her face closer to his.

  “I love you, Tori,” he whispered an instant before he touched his lips to hers.

  He felt her suck in a breath, but she didn’t pull away. Didn’t slap his cheek or shove against his chest even though her hands were already in position. So he did it again, brushed his lips over hers in a kiss so feathery it could have been the stroke of a butterfly’s wing.

  “I love you,” he repeated, reaching a hand up to caress her cheek, to cup her jaw, and tilt her mouth more fully up to his. He felt a tremble course through her and thought to release his hold until her neck stretched, bringing her lips even closer.

  Ben nearly wept at the invitation he’d waited so long to receive. Bringing his other hand up, he cupped both sides of her face and melded his lips with hers. His pulse thrummed in his veins as desire swept over him, but he kept the kiss soft. This was about giving, not taking. Someday there would be more between them, a completeness of trust that would offer greater freedom. But for now, he’d settle for tender and sweet.

  When Tori finally pulled back, Ben lifted his mouth from hers yet didn’t let her go. He rested his forehead against hers and whispered the words one more time.

  “I love you.”

  She said nothing, but he hadn’t expected her to. All he could hope for was that she would let the truth of his vow drift past her barriers to settle in a secure chamber of her heart where it could take up permanent residence.

  He could wait to hear the words. After all, he’d waited over a year to come this far, and the outcome had been far sweeter than he’d ever imagined. He could be patient a while longer. A life with Tori and Lewis was worth the wait.

  CHAPTER

  11

  He loved her. Benjamin Porter—handsome, kind, godly, and infinitely patient Benjamin Porter loved her. It took the entire ride back to Harper’s Station for Tori to accept that such a miracle might have actually occurred. She probably wouldn’t have believed it at all if she hadn’t met Frannie Crowley and seen with her own eyes the amazing goodness God had wrought from a situation instigated by evil. If the Lord could create a loving marriage for Jed and Frannie, maybe . . . just maybe . . . he could do the same for her—if she opened her heart enough to allow him the opportunity.

  Tori glanced over at the man by her side, the one who’d stubbornly insisted he was strong enough to drive despite the knock he took to his head. She had to admit the man had admirable stamina. They’d been traveling for three hours, and except for a little pallor in his skin, he looked as fit and strong as ever. Which was very fit. With all those lovely muscles that, yes, she enjoyed looking at. His strong jaw. His warm, gray eyes. A little s
igh eased through her parted lips. The way those eyes heated even further right before he had kissed her.

  A shiver danced over her skin as she recalled the tender way his mouth had covered hers. The touch had been so different from Paul’s forceful, selfish groping. She’d felt nothing but pleasure at Ben’s kiss. No fear. No resurgence of harsh memories. Only a feeling of being utterly cherished. A feeling she could grow quite greedy for, if she weren’t careful. But who wanted to be careful? Not her. Not anymore.

  Feeling daring, Tori snuck another peek at Ben, her gaze zeroing in on the lips that had brought her such pleasure. Lips that were curving up at the corners.

  She jerked her attention away from his mouth, embarrassed to have been caught staring, but before she could turn her head, his warm, teasing gaze captured hers.

  “I haven’t thought of much else, either,” he said in a voice low enough not to wake Lewis, who dozed in the wagon bed.

  Tori’s cheeks heated. How did the man always know what she was thinking? If they were to marry, she’d have to find a way to even the playing field. Perhaps study him so closely that she could read his thoughts as well.

  She turned back and stared at him until he squirmed, inwardly delighting at his growing discomfort. It was about time she got the upper hand.

  “Tori? Everything all right?”

  A true smile blossomed across her face, one that grew so wide it stretched her out-of-practice cheeks almost to the point of pain.

  Ben blinked at her as if momentarily blinded.

  “Everything’s perfect,” she proclaimed. And she meant it.

  Frannie had been right. The truth had set her free. It had taken Tori several hours to recognize the change, but it was there. Inside. A lightness of spirit–one that felt foreign but, oh, so wonderful. And not just because a man she admired told her he loved her, though that was a miracle she’d be savoring for years.