That realization should be cautioning her, she knew that. But, after all, they were no longer those young lovers. Time and events had changed that. But could she trust herself to remember that?

She was more than nervous. She was frightened. She turned away and went toward the kitchen, unconsciously twisting the wedding band on her finger as she walked across the room.

It was late afternoon as Benjamin and Lucinda walked slowly along the border of the planted fields. The Garrison children were a distance ahead of them, skipping and running in playfulness. The afternoon had been pleasant enough and Mary's excellent cooking had produced a good meal. Richard was finishing his outside ch.o.r.es while Mary remained in the house.

They had walked a distance from the house and were beyond the barn when Benjamin decided to leave the small talk behind and grab the opportunity to say in private what had been on his mind all afternoon. He noticed Lucinda's uneasiness now that they were alone but ignored it as he stopped walking and reached out and gently took her arm in an attempt to stop her stride. She paused and looked at him. He smiled softly at her. His voice was calm, his gaze steady as he asked, "How have you been, Lucinda?"

Her face clouded with uneasiness. She sighed deeply before answering. "I've been fine," she replied. "How about you?"

He lied. "I've been fine, too." He was aware that she probably knew him well enough to know he was not telling the truth. He had mixed emotions as he stood in such close proximity to her. On one hand he wanted to take her in his arms and again feel her bare skin against his and on the other he wanted to scream out in anger at her for leaving him. Confused by the moment, he yearned for a shot of whiskey to bring some comfort from the haunting memories of her that had been with him all these years and had resurfaced again with seeing her. "Lucinda, what happened between us?" He said the words tentatively as if afraid to hear her response. His voice dropped as he continued, "I've never understood. What we had was good."

She bit her lip and then said, "I don't know, Benjamin. I guess it wasn't meant to be. We were young ...."

He said, "We were in love." He saw her wince at those words.

She lowered her eyes from his. "I suppose we were, but that was a long time ago."

"Sometimes it seems like lifetimes ago, and at other times it seems like yesterday. I've missed you."

"Don't Benjamin. Please."

He ignored her comment. "You have to know. I've fooled myself into believing you didn't matter anymore. But you do, Lucinda."

She looked him straight in the eyes as she said, "No, Benjamin, it's long over. There's nothing-"

His voice was firm, "You're wrong."

She became indignant. "How dare you. It's over. I'm married to James."

"Yeah, right. Where is your husband? Why isn't he here with you?" he taunted.

Sudden anger lit her eyes. "Enough, Benjamin! You know where he is and why. I don't want to hear any more."

The last thing he wanted to do was to make her angry, or was it? Maybe her anger would make it easier for him to walk away and not look back. He recklessly pushed ahead. "What happened to your first marriage? Thought you were in love with that guy and just had to marry him."

Her anger had not left her eyes and her voice was taut as she said, "Why are you doing this? I made a mistake, so what."

The corner of his mouth twitched as he said, "Maybe you made a mistake in marrying James."

She shot him a cold stare. "The only mistake I made was not leaving here today when you walked in."

He snickered. "That's a lie. You didn't want to leave. You couldn't take your eyes off me all day. Who you kidding?"

"Benjamin, I've heard enough!" She abruptly turned away and he grabbed her arm pulling her into him. His mouth came down on hers before she could protest. Within a moment she struggled free, her blue eyes blazing with fury. "I can't believe you did that!" she cried. She moved away swiftly and he ran to catch up with her.

"Lucinda, I'm sorry," he pleaded. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

She stopped and turned to face him. "Benjamin, if you ever try anything like that again-"

"Please, Lucinda, I'm sorry. I really am. Forgive me," he pleaded. "I didn't mean to force myself on you." His face revealed his pain and embarra.s.sment of his actions. "Please."

Her shoulders dropped and she sighed. "Oh, Benjamin. I'm sorry I hurt you. It was not an easy decision for me when I left you in Chicago. But it had to be."

He searched her eyes. "It hurt deeply," he said softly. "But that is no excuse for what I just did and said to you. I'm truly sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Her eyes were moist as she answered, "Yes, but please don't ever let it happen again."

"It won't," he replied quietly. She turned to walk away from him. He said, "Tell me something, Lucinda."

She turned back. "What?"

Benjamin had to know. "Are you happy?"

"You mean with James?"

"Yes."

"Yes, I'm happy. He's a special man, Benjamin."

He wanted her happy, he supposed even if he could not have her, but he felt a twinge of pain at her answer.

He asked, "What about your first husband? What happened?"

She shrugged and he felt resistance in her voice as she said, "I really don't want to talk about it except to say he was abusive."

His forehead creased into a frown, "I'm sorry."

She nodded. "We all make mistakes."

"I guess one of mine was not coming after you in Philadelphia," he said softly. "Maybe you wouldn't have married the b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

A small smile crossed her lips. "Maybe," she said.

They resumed walking. They stopped to watch two young hawks squawking as they circled and rode the late afternoon updrafts of wind currents. The sun was lowering in the sky toward the horizon. They turned and headed back in the direction of Robert and Mary's farmhouse.

Lucinda asked, "How come you've not married? Or have you?"

"No, I've not." He laughed. "You're the reason, Lucinda, and probably the only reason." He gave a wink. "Who can forget someone like you?" He studied her a moment, then said, "Come on, the sun's going down soon and you've got to get home before dark. I'll hitch up your horse while you gather your things from the house."

They walked on in silence toward the farmhouse. Benjamin broke the silence shortly before reaching the corral. He said, "If it's all right with you, I'll ride along with you and see that you get home safely. I've got to get back into town."

Lucinda's emotions were churning as she politely said her goodbyes to Robert and Mary and the children. She had hoped that none of them were aware of the confrontation between her and Benjamin but she felt fairly a.s.sured that they were concealed from innocent or curious eyes and ears.

Benjamin offered to drive her wagon the short distance to her farm. She agreed. He tied his horse to the rear of the wagon and climbed aboard and took the reins. The sun was dropping fast as the horse pulled the wagon down the dirt road toward the main road. Her uneasiness returned as they sat close beside each other and were shifted by the movement of the wagon wheels on the dirt path. She braced herself and held onto the side of the wagon so she could insure a comfortable distance between their bodies. Her mind flashed with memories of their past together as they engaged in casual light conversation. It was something that she did not want to think about but seeing him had stirred up all the forgotten memories and she struggled to brush them aside.

She asked, "Do you like working at the shingle mill?"

"It's okay."

"Just okay?"

"I don't know, Lucinda. Sometimes I think maybe I'd be better off just running a farm."

She smiled. "I remember you saying that you didn't want to be a farmer. You wanted to be an architect. You would study those buildings in Chicago and say that one day you would be designing them and building them."

He chuckled. "You're right. That was my dream."

"Isn't it still?"

His voice dropped as he said, "I don't know if I have any dreams left any more."

She felt an odd twinge of disappointment that he had given up his dream. He had been so pa.s.sionate and determined in creating that dream and had vowed that nothing would stop him. He saw progress would offer much opportunity as new communities were springing up in all areas of the Midwest and Westward. Small settlements were becoming towns and then growing into cities, and he had told her that he desperately and enthusiastically wanted to be a part of that. She wondered how his drinking had affected his dream. Had the alcohol drowned it out? Was he still drinking as heavily?

She asked, "Are you still doing your art?"

He answered, "Some."

"And selling it?"

"Yes."

She still had several birds that he had carved for her and she wondered if she should mention those. She decided to remain silent.

He asked, "Remember that little gallery on Third Street?"

She remembered it well. It was up the street from their favorite restaurant and they frequented both often. "Yes, I do."

"Well, they have a lot of my art and seem to sell it right along."

"I'm pleased to hear that. You have a real gift, you know."

"Do I?"

"Yes, Benjamin. You know you do. It's all beautiful. You need to take it to New York City. I hear they have some fine galleries."

"Maybe some day."

She said, "That's my road coming up just ahead."

He turned the wagon onto her farm road and a hundred feet onto it the wagon wheel hit a hole in the road and severely jarred the wagon. It threw her against him and he flung out his arm to hold her back in the seat. She grabbed onto his arm to stop her forward movement.

He pulled back on the reins and halted the horse. He swung in his seat to look at her, "You okay?"

"Yes." His arm was still across her and she was aware of his warm flesh under her hand. Her heart was racing and the scent of his closeness unsettled her. His gaze traveled over her face and searched her eyes. She knew she was sinking into surrender as his gaze became like a soft caress on her face. Later, she was not able to identify who had made the first move, but she knew it may have been her. This time when his mouth found hers she did not resist but returned his kiss with a reckless abandon and a pa.s.sion that had once been theirs to share.

Instinctively, her body arched toward his and her arms went around him. His hands explored the soft lines of her back, her shoulders, and then moved to her neck and face. She shuddered as she felt the warmth of his caress on her bare skin. He slowly and softly moved his mouth from hers and his wet lips made a path along her neck. He buried his face in her shoulder. "Oh, Lucinda, Lucinda," he said softly.

In silence, she held him tight and caressed his hair. Twilight had come over the prairie and with it came a gentle breeze. The only sound that could be heard was the song of a distant mocking bird and the light rustling of tall prairie gra.s.s as it swayed in the gentle wind.

But within the sounds of the near silence, two troubled minds struggled to find answers to their stirred up emotions.

It was only the neighing of one of the horses that broke through the emotional conflict that both Lucinda and Benjamin were suffering in lone silence.

Benjamin was the first to break the embrace. He gently touched her face and then moved away from her. He picked up the reins and moved the wagon on down the road toward the farmhouse. And for the rest of the ride the only sounds heard were the creaking movement of the wagon and the song of the distant mocking bird.

In moonlight, which was diffused by a thin cloud cover, Benjamin rode his horse across the champaign to town. The arrival at Lucinda's farmhouse following the minutes of silence between them had been awkward. He helped her from the wagon, his strong hands circled her waist and lifted her down. He searched her eyes, not sure what his next move should be. He had only a moment to consider it. Lucinda's hand moved to his jawline. He noticed there was a light tremor in her hand. Her misty eyes met his. She sighed deeply. She said softly, "You must go now, Benjamin."

That was not what he wanted to do. He replied, "If you want me to, Lucinda."

She dropped her hand from his face. "You must."

His voice was soft as he asked, "Is that what you want?"

She bit her lip and her voice broke as she said, "I can't have you here, Benjamin. We can't let it happen."

An uncertainty crept into his expression. He hesitated a moment and then said, "Maybe it is meant to happen."

She sighed. "Oh, Benjamin, no." Her eyes filled with tears. Her voice choked with emotion. "My heart is telling me no. I can't let it. We can't!"

His longing lay naked in his mind but he said, "I understand. I'll leave." He reached out and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "It'll be okay." He leaned in toward her and softly kissed her forehead. He drew back and asked, "Do you mind if I stop by the school to say h.e.l.lo in a few days on my way through on business."

Her face showed relief. She replied, "That would be fine."

He turned from her and said over his shoulder, "I'll get your horse into the barn and then be on my way."

Lucinda was at her window peering out into the darkness as Benjamin mounted his horse. She watched his silhouette disappear into the night. She turned from the window with an aching heart and with old forgotten feelings rekindled and burning just below the surface. She recalled the first night they had met and the many days and nights that had followed.

A distressing realization swept over her. Benjamin had been right. He was not over her, and even more disturbing, she was not over him.

The next morning Benjamin slept late. He shaved, dressed and went downstairs into the Marshalltown Hotel cafe. The hostess greeted him warmly. "Good morning, Mr. Storm. Would you like breakfast?"

He returned her smile. "'Morning. I'd like a cup of coffee and will take a short walk before breakfast if you don't mind."

"Of course," she said as she moved behind the counter and poured a steaming cup of coffee. She handed it to him. "I hope you had a good night, sir."

He gave her a polite smile and nod and went out the side door of the hotel.

It was still early enough that the morning air was crisp. He walked to the back of the hotel and across a field to the woods. As he walked into the woods, he could hear running water. He spotted a small creek and followed along the bank for a way until he found a fallen log to sit on. He sipped the coffee and tried to clear his mind of the events of yesterday. It was no use. Today would be like the night had been.

Thoughts of Lucinda would not leave his mind.

And for now he knew he did not want to bury those thoughts within the haze of liquor. No, he wanted them fresh and clear so he could savor every nuance of his memories and thoughts of Lucinda. The pa.s.sion of their kiss last evening gave him hope.

He watched the rays of the sun glistening and dancing on the rushing water as it moved downstream. And with it, he sent a prayer that the hope would not be extinguished. He needed that hope to get him through the days ahead.

Without it, he wanted no future.