Sudden Storms by Marcia Lynn McClure Page B

friendly. Ever since the night Weston had come for supper, the night she and Paxton had shared such intimate moments, he seemed to withdraw into an impenetrable hull. He smiled seldom, talked even less, and seemed to wear a perpetual frown across his brow. Rivers knew he’d regretted his flirting with her. He rarely met her eye to eye, and he was brief in his conversation with her. He was polite to everyone, even to Rivers—coolly polite. Still, Rivers sensed his discomfort with her.
    Several times, she’d tried to find the courage to leave them, these people she was in love with. But each time, the now-fading courage that had carried her through so many of life’s trying situations abandoned her completely. Often at night, she’d hear the distant rumble of the train on the tracks and listen to its mournful whistle seeming to warn her, calling to her. But each time she let the train echo into the distance without an attempt at joining its journey.
    And then, Jolee was bitten. The horrible guilt Rivers felt toward the incident, coupled with Jolee’s need for help, kept her from leaving when she came closest to finding the will to do so.
    
    For Rivers, the events of the day Jolee was bitten began with an unpleasant interaction with Paxton. As she stepped out of the house on her way to the barn, Rivers’s shoe caught on a loose front porch board. Consequently, she stumbled, landing on her hands and knees, a painful splinter puncturing the palm of her hand, burying itself under her flesh.
    “Ow!” Rivers exclaimed. Sitting down promptly on her behind, she studied the large sliver of wood imbedded in her palm.
    “Let me see it,” Paxton growled, as he mounted the front porch steps. Hunkering down before her, he took Rivers’s hand in his own, studying the splinter.
    Rivers gasped as, without pause, he drew her hand to his mouth, taking the exposed end of the splinter between his teeth tugging on it. “Ow!” Rivers exclaimed once more.
    “Oh, quit your whinin’, girl,” Paxton scolded impatiently. He drew a small knife from his pocket.
    “What are you doing?” Rivers asked.
    “I’m gonna cut your hand off, girl. What do ya think?” he grumbled.
    “You don’t have to…” she began, trying to draw her hand away from him.
    But he held it firmly, placing the tip of the splinter between his thumb and the knife blade. He pulled the splinter out quickly and rubbed the sore area of Rivers’s palm vigorously to ease the pain.
    “It’s takin’ too long,” he stated.
    “What?” Rivers asked, puzzled. She wasn’t at all certain what he meant.
    “Weston and Jolee,” he answered.
    “It’s only been a couple of weeks since…”
    “Somethin’s not right. Somethin’s keepin’ them from goin’ ahead,” he muttered, standing and offering his hand to Rivers. She took it, in return of his offered courtesy, and dusted off the back of her skirt.
    “Something like what?” she asked.
    “Somethin’ like you,” he stated. For the first time in days, the intensity of his sapphire stare met hers.
    “Me?” she asked, placing one hand to her bosom. Her heart began to throb with the intense pain stabbing her there as realization hit her. “You mean because I’m here…and she thinks I don’t have anywhere to go? You think she’s…”
    “I think she wants somethin’ to be goin’ on between you and me, and that’s why she won’t give herself to him,” he interrupted.
     
    Paxton clenched his teeth tightly as he watched the expression of realization forming in Rivers’s eyes. The same expression had once filled Ruby Dupree’s—the expression of injury and heartbreak. He’d done it to her. He hadn’t meant to, but it had happened. The difference being, if Rivers looked deep enough into his eyes, he knew she’d see the same emotion reflected there. He cursed himself for trapping the girl’s heart. Yet he’d done it on purpose. The night by the pond found him weak and unable to resist her any