Page 54 of More than Words Can Say

Abigail stiffened. No. Please. Anywhere but there.

But where else could they be headed? It was the only place the path led.

You can do this, Abby. It’s been years. It probably doesn’t even look the same.

Only it did. Exactly the way it appeared in her nightmares. The giant live oak towered over the innocent meadow like a merciless monster ready to destroy the lives of whoever ventured too close.

She pushed backward against her husband, no longer leaning against him in lazy, romantic abandon but actively pushing, desperate to get away from the Death Tree that loomed closer with every step of the horse’s hooves.

CHAPTER

27

Zach slowed Jack with a gentle tug on the reins. Something was wrong. He scanned the area but found no threat. No disturbance. Just prairie grass, trees, and the pretty little stream he’d planned to sit beside as he picnicked with his wife.

Only the woman who had moments ago been so pliant and soft as she snuggled against him had gone as stiff as a 4×4 hickory post. Worse, she seemed to be trying to crawl over his shoulder to get away from something. The only thing in front of them was a tree. It might be a tad on the tall side, but it wasn’t like it was going to pull up its roots and start chasing them.

What had his sensible wife so spooked?

“Abigail?” Signaling Jack with his legs to halt, Zach released the reins and took hold of his wife.

“Not here, Zach,” she murmured. “Anywhere but here.”

Again he scanned his surroundings. It was one of the prettiest spots in the area. Reuben brought Audrey here on special occasions. Apparently it used to be a trysting place for young couples years ago, but few people came out here anymore. That made it private. Secluded. The perfect place to woo one’s wife. Unless, of course, one’s wife was terrified of the tree standing guard over the small meadow.

“Easy, Abby.” He tugged her back down into his lap and tried to soothe her by rubbing her arms, but she wasn’t in the mood to be soothed. She continued squirming and twisting away from the view in front of them. Finally, he smartened up enough to turn the horse so she didn’t have to see the giant oak. That calmed her a little. “We don’t have to have our supper here,” he said. “If you want to go, we’ll go.”

“No.”

No? Lord help him. He’d never understand females. “You want to stay?”

Tremors hit, quaking her hard enough for him to feel them. He wrapped his arms around her and bent his face close to hers. He might not understand what was going on in her head, but a mighty squall was battering her hull, and if he couldn’t figure out how to shelter her from it, he aimed to be her anchor until it passed.

She twisted in his lap and pressed her cheek to his chest. “I’m sorry. I–I’m ruining everything.” Her voice cracked.

“Nothin’s ruined,” he barked, then winced at his curt tone. Not exactly the compassionate response a woman fighting unseen demons wanted from her man. Time to shut his trap.

Thankfully, her tears never really got started. His little warrior harnessed her trembling with a few deep breaths before lifting her face.

“Can . . .” Another deep breath and a brave jutting of her chin. “Can we get down for a minute?”

Zach nodded, still subscribing to the idea that holding his tongue increased the odds of not screwing things up. He swung his leg over Jack’s rump and settled on the ground while keeping a steadying hand on Abigail. Then he lifted her down beside him.

“Do you believe things happen for a reason?” She didn’t look at him when she asked. In fact, she took a step away from him and fisted her hands. Slowly, she pivoted to face the tree that seemed to be the cause of her distress.

Not knowing what else to do—and not wanting to risk disaster by opening his mouth—Zach stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. I’m here, he tried to convey. I’ve got your back.

“Of all the places you could have brought me, you chose this spot. I think it’s a sign.”

Yeah, a sign that he shouldn’t have taken romantic advice from his sawdust-for-brains partner.

“A sign that we shouldn’t deepen our physical intimacies when secrets linger between us.”

Zach stiffened. Did she know? Had she somehow figured out who he was and what he’d done when she found his father’s playing cards? He fought not to pinch her shoulders as tension radiated from his neck down through his back, shooting along his arms all the way to his fingertips.

Her shoulders lifted beneath his palms as if in response to the weight of his fear. But no. She was only inhaling. A heartbeat later, the air released from her lungs, and her shoulders sagged back into place.

“There’s something about me you don’t know, Zach. Something that might . . . might change your opinion of me.”