Page 39 of More than Words Can Say

Not so fast, chickadee.

Zach clasped her wrist and halted her escape. She glared at him over her shoulder and gave a tug on her arm, but he held firm.

“Let me go.” Defiance flared hot in her golden eyes as she tugged a second time.

He stepped closer so her tugs wouldn’t strain her arm, but he didn’t release his grip. “Why didn’t you let me kiss you?”

In answer, she jerked her arm again, harder this time. He opened his hand, not wanting to hurt her.

Abigail darted into her room and flung the door at the jamb with enough force to splinter wood—or injure a man’s foot, if he happened to be fool enough to stick it in the way. Zach bit back a groan as the door ricocheted off the side of his stocking-clad foot. Wishing he hadn’t left his boots downstairs tonight, he tried to ignore the throbbing, but his clenched jaw must have given him away, for when his wife yanked the door open to glare at him for interrupting her grand exit, a flash of regret crossed her face. It only lasted a moment, but at least he knew she cared a little about his well-being.

“Remove your foot from my door,” she demanded.

He shook his head. “Not until you explain.”

Chest thrust forward, eyes flashing, chin proudly erect—she was beautiful. Full of fire and spice. He wanted to snatch her off her feet and carry her to his bed to see what else they could set aflame. Too bad the passion she displayed at the moment most likely leaned toward bashing his skull with a bread tin.

“The physical truly is all you care about, isn’t it?” she said.

Zach gave a guilty start. Had she read his mind?

“Fine. A bargain’s a bargain. You want a kiss every night? Have a kiss.” Anger laced her words, but not so much that he failed to hear the sorrow in the crack of her voice.

Before he could blink, she jabbed her face at him and poked his cheek with all the finesse of a woodpecker drilling for worms. Thankfully, the reaction time of his arms was faster than his brain, for the instant she attacked, he grabbed her about the waist. Her palm splatted against his chest as she caught her balance, and a quiet sob squeezed out of her.

That sob scraped his heart raw. But he couldn’t let this wound fester. Especially if he was the cause. Which he must be, even if he didn’t understand what he’d done.

Their marriage might not be conventional, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care how it fared. How she fared. He’d vowed to cherish her, and judging by her obvious dissatisfaction with him at the moment, he’d missed that mark by a pretty wide margin today. He needed to adjust his aim, but until he could figure out which way the wind blew, he risked making things worse.

She no longer fought him, but her tucked chin hid her face, making it impossible to gain clues from her expression. He had a sneaking suspicion there might be tears. He hated tears. Never knew what to do to make them stop. He steeled himself for dripping eyes and set his jaw.

He’d warned her he wasn’t marriage material, but she’d wed him anyway. Too late for either of them to back out now. Zach might not know much about being a husband, but Brother Samuelson had given him a list of verses to study up on the matter. He distinctly recalled one of them stating that they weren’t to let the sun go down on their wrath. So tears or not, he’d find a way to cut through this wrath and defuse it before letting Abigail dodge off to bed.

He slid a hand under her chin and gently inched her face upward. Damp lashes blinked back pooling moisture. His gut knotted, but he didn’t stop. He caressed her jawline and forced his gaze to hold hers. “I don’t care about one missed kiss, Abby,” he said. “I care about why. Why did you turn away from me? From us?”

“Because I was foolish enough to believe that you might be coming to care for me. But those kisses we share don’t really mean anything to you, do they? They’re just to pacify your manly needs. Isn’t that what you said? That men tend to focus on the physical side of relationships?”

Zach winced, his thoughts from a moment ago rising to convict him.

Her head fell back down, her shoulders sagging. “That’s what I thought. If you cared for me at all, you wouldn’t keep secrets from me.”

Secrets? Zach’s hand fell away from her face, dread clinching in his gut. What had she heard? He didn’t think anyone in Honey Grove knew about his past, but things like that didn’t stay hidden forever.

He cleared his throat, determined to face whatever consequences had risen up to bite him. He owed her that much.

“Ask me,” he said as he braced himself for the bullets she would fire. They might blow this marriage to bits, but he’d made a vow, and he aimed to hold up his end of the bargain.

She slowly lifted her chin, hope warring with hurt in her golden-brown eyes. “What were you and Rosalind doing alone together in the stables?”

Zach blinked. He’d braced for a shotgun blast, and she’d hit him with a slingshot. The question bounced off his chest with such insignificant impact that it left him a bit stupefied.

“What?”

“Today. In town. You and Rosalind were seen together . . . embracing . . . and–and disappearing into a stable for . . . extensive periods of time. Alone. I asked Rosalind about it, gave her a chance to explain, but she offered only evasive responses and nervous gestures. Then at the table, I saw the way you two looked at each other. Guilty glances. Secrets. It’s obvious that you’re hiding something from me.”

Zach’s mind spun, searching for a way out of this tangle without hurting either sister, but he hesitated too long.

“I never should have forced you into this marriage.” Her gaze slid back down to the floor, and her toe kicked at a knothole in the floorboard. “It wasn’t fair to you. My hours in the bakery keep me from being the attentive wife a husband deserves. And while I don’t believe the foul rumors that are circulating about how you and Rosalind are carrying on behind my back, I understand why they are easy for people to believe. She’s so much prettier than I am. Sweet-natured and charismatic. You could have had the sleek, spirited Arabian filly, but you got stuck with the dumpy plow horse instead.”