made sure she knew that he would never love her.
Maybe Clarissa should know he couldn’t afford to love anyone. Not anymore. Everyone he loved died because he was too selfish to care for them when they needed him. Their pain was always his fault. It was also his secret.
Chapter Five
On her very first morning of being Mrs. Clarissa Featherhawk, the bride decided to set the tone of her marriage as she meant to carry it on.
She wanted to know Wade better, certainly. She craved the personal details that all couples learned after months of courtship. But she didn’t have that basis of information to rely on because Wade seemed to think he had to protect himself. Or perhaps he wanted to protect her. She wasn’t sure. Her only hope lay in calming his fears, showing him that she intended to be an equal partner, that she had no intention of dragging him down.
Which was why, tired as she was from the busy day before, she managed to drag herself out of bed as the first threads of sunlight drifted across the sky. By the time she noticed Wade stirring from his uncomfortable position on the sofa, Clarissa had cinnamon buns ready to emerge from the oven and coffee, freshly brewed in a big mug on the table beside his makeshift bed.
“It can’t be morning yet,” he grumbled, his tousled head emerging just above the back of the sofa. “I’ve only had my eyes closed for ten minutes.”
“Rough night?” she murmured, turning away to hide a smile when she saw him force his eyes apart. “There’s a cup of coffee by your elbow. Maybe that will help.”
“Maybe,” Wade muttered doubtfully, but he downed a mouthful just the same. “What are you doing?”
She turned to find him frowning at her, one eyebrow quirked upward in a question. Her cheeks grew warm under his steady regard.
“I was just making some buns, before the day got too warm. This year has been a strange one, hasn’t it? You never know if you’re going to fry or freeze.” He was still staring at her. “Anyway, I thought it would be a good idea to do this before the cabin heated up too much. I’ve got our dinner started in that Crock-Pot.”
“Dinner?” He blinked twice, took a gulp of coffee, then winced as it burned down his throat. “I didn’t realize you were so industrious.”
Clarissa wanted to pinch herself. How stupid of her! Of course. He wanted to sleep in and she’d disturbed him.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, transferring one of the buns to a small plate. She kept her eyes averted. “I’ll just pour myself some coffee and go outside. I didn’t mean to disturb your rest. Go back to sleep if you want. I’ll sit in the sun and read.”
He muttered something in that low husky rumble of his, but Clarissa didn’t hang around and listen to what it was. She scurried out the door like a frightened mouse and carried her breakfast to the edge of the lake where earlier that morning she’d set out two of the chairs from the veranda.
“So much for romantic dreams,” she scolded herself. “Just get on with your life and quit expecting it to change. It’s a marriage of convenience, girl. Not a love match.”
She’d known that, of course. But still the foolish dreams had filled her mind last night. Those teasing “maybe” dreams. Maybe one day, maybe if they got to know each other, maybe somehow she could be a real wife, a real mother.
The sun rose slowly, its warmth spreading like fingers across the tree strewn landscape, rippling over the lake on butterfly wings. Birds drenched the air with their song. The put-put of a motorboat echoed the presence of a fisherman out early to cast a line.
Clarissa closed her eyes, tipping her head up to let the sunshine chase away the doubts. “Lord, I thank You for this wonderful creation. And for Wade. I know Your hand was in this marriage. ‘All things work together for good.’” She stopped a moment to wonder what life would be like in another five years. The murmuring sounds of other campers drew her back to the present, and she hurried on with her prayer.
“I want to do my part, to be all that You want me to be. But I don’t know what to expect, what Wade expects. Please give me patience and strength to wait on You.” She opened her eyes, her attention riveted on the man who’d just stepped outside their cabin door. She’d have to hurry.
“And God, if You could make him care about me, just a little bit, it would make this marriage so much easier.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, God. Amen.”
Wade flopped down in the chair beside hers, his bare arm brushing against her hand where it held her coffee mug out of harm’s way. “This place is like an isolated piece of solitude in a messed-up world,” he told her, his eyes on the trees sparkling in the bright sunlight, their reflection shimmering in the smooth lake water. “In a way, I guess it reminds me of the reservation, though there wasn’t much solitude there. In fact, when I lived there, I felt as if nobody else knew I existed.”
Clarissa saw through the undertones to the pain he tried to mask. “Abandoned, you mean?” she murmured softly, keeping her gaze on the water. “I know what that’s like. When my parents died and I went to Gran’s, it was as if the life I’d known died. Gran was wonderful, of course,” she rushed to assure him. “But she was older, and she’d just lost her only child. I didn’t want to impose.”
She could feel Wade’s eyes on her. “It must have been tough.”
Clarissa nodded. “It was. Maybe that’s why I can empathize with your kids. In one split second, everything you’ve ever known is changed and you can’t ever go back.” She took a deep breath, crossed her fingers, then plunged in to something she had no business questioning. If she was going to learn more about Wade, this was the time.
“You must have felt that way when Kendra died and you had to take over for her. Your plans, dreams, hopes for the future. They all had to be put on hold, didn’t they?” She hoped he’d tell her what those hopes and dreams were. She hadn’t expected his mocking chuckle.
“Snooping, Clarissa?” He caught her chin and forced her to meet his glinting stare.
Clarissa knew he could see the round spots of embarrassed color that burned in her cheeks but she didn’t back down.
“Yes, maybe just a little. I’m hoping I can learn to understand you and the kids a little better, get to know what your lives were like then.” She refused to look away. “Is that wrong?”
He stared at her for a long time before his hand fell away from her jaw and he sighed, a deep huff that told her he would give just so far and no further.
“No, it isn’t wrong. It’s normal, I suppose. What do you want to know?”
Clarissa groaned inwardly. This wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him to open up of his own accord, to share a piece of himself because he could trust her. Maybe it was too early for that.
Please help me, Lord.
“I want to know anything you want to tell me,” she murmured, wishing she could smooth away the lines of tension around his eyes. “What were you like as a little boy?”
Clarissa settled back in the chair and drew her knees up to her chest, smoothing her skirt over her legs to hide from the prickles the sun was already making against her skin. Thank goodness she’d thought to tug on the old straw hat she’d found. That along with her long-sleeved shirt should give some protection. She didn’t want to go home looking like a boiled lobster!
She turned to nod at Wade. “I’m listening.”
He shook his head wryly. “Don’t give up easily, do you?” His eyes darkened, then glassed over as if he’d gone far away, to a place where she couldn’t go. “What was I like? I was a brat, Clarissa. Disobedient, willful, argumentative. All the things you were probably instructed not to do—” he raised one eyebrow, then continued when she nodded her understanding “—I did them. All of them. There wasn’t a younger kid I