Page 63 of A Rugged Beauty
A quiet breath. "Owen respects you."
He doubted that, not after how the other man had come after him that morning.
She must've sensed his silent disagreement, even in the dark.
"He found out about the short-term memory problems." August had revealed his secret. Hollis still couldn't come to grips with that.
She made a little sound of understanding, one that grated against his nerves.
"He's hurt you didn't confide in him," she whispered.
"Not hurt. Angry."
"You sure about that?"
He pictured Owen's craggy face from earlier. He was certain.
"You've trusted Owen as one of your captains for the entire journey thus far."
Yes, but he doesn't trust me.
The words caught painfully behind Hollis's chest. The stars that had been bright and warm now sparkled with cold fire. "If Owen doesn't do as I say, it could cause trouble for the company."
He heard a soft sigh. She hesitated before whispering, "You hold to your control so tightly..."
"That's my job," he snapped, voice louder than he intended. A nearby snore was interrupted momentarily before kicking back up. "That's what every one of these families has paid me to do," he whispered fiercely. "To keep them safe and help them reach Oregon."
Owen was too sure of himself. He knew the outdoors and had crossed successfully with his brother, but two men traveling alone could cover different ground, take different risks. A big company was another animal entirely.
"You trusted me and August with your secret," she whispered. "Why not?—?"
"Maybe that was a mistake."
Silence settled between them as cold as the air biting the exposed skin of his face. He felt her hurt. Hated that he'd caused it.
But another part of him wondered whether it was for the best. There was no future for him with Abigail. Wasn't it better for her to realize now that there was no fixing his problems? Her compassion was wasted on him.
His voice was rough when he spoke again, "What about you?" he demanded in a whisper. "You don't share what plagues you."
He heard a soft, tearful snort. "Everything plagues me," she returned. "Every day brings different dangers. A new way to lose a friend. Another threat that we may not make it to the Willamette Valley."
"And yet you walk around singing and humming until you drive everyone to distraction."
No, not everyone.
Him.
It was him she drove to distraction.
He'd catch sight of her smile from across camp and feel that tug in his gut. Hear a tinkle of her humming, even if he couldn't see her, and find a smile playing about his lips.
"If there truly is uncertainty around every bend, why shouldn't I greet it with optimism?"
"You can pretend to be happy, but if it isn't real, aren't you lying? To yourself and everyone around you?" The words wereout of his mouth before he'd thought them through, before he'd considered their sharpness and how they might strike.
She went silent, barely even breathing. For a moment, he wanted to apologize, to say he hadn't meant them. But before he'd figured out how to get the words out, she rolled away from him in the darkness.
The fire popped. It wasn't loud enough to cover the sound of her soft sniffle. Her shuddering breath.
