Redemption of a Fallen Woman(29)

‘You saw it too.’

Her pulse quickened a little. ‘Yes. This is an ideal place.’

‘Far from ideal from your point of view, I imagine,’ he replied. ‘You must be wishing me at Jericho. I can only apologise for my foul temper.’

‘Well, I should not have asked so impertinent a question and I’m sorry for it.’

‘Forget it. It doesn’t matter.’

Elena strongly suspected that it did, but she wasn’t about to reject the offered olive branch. ‘All right. Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.’

‘Yes, let’s.’

Hearing him fall in so readily with the suggestion, she wondered then what other pretences they would have to maintain in this relationship: the pretence that he was content to be married to her; the pretence that he wasn’t still in love with another woman? Yet she could hardly criticise him when she had not faced and conquered her own demons. What future could there be for them if they did not confront the past?





Chapter Nine





There was no further sign of the bandits who had attacked them so it seemed most probable that it had been a chance encounter with a small band of marauders. The countryside was full of them, men whom war had dispossessed or made desperate. As he and his companions continued on their journey, Harry could only hope that they wouldn’t meet any more. They had been lucky last time. If the robber group had been larger it would have been a different story. Had it been only himself and Jack he would have been less concerned: having women along altered his view substantially, even if the women concerned were able to shoot remarkably well. Elena’s account of their adventure with El Lobo only served to underline this. While Harry applauded her courage and resilience, he was more aware than ever of her vulnerability.

Since the shared watch their relationship had, superficially at least, settled back into its former pattern of mutual civility. Yet, underneath that, he was aware of a fundamental shift. Even though he had apologised, he knew that he had ducked the issue. The habit of silence had become ingrained. The very mention of Belén was a trigger to close up like a clam. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen. How those words had haunted him in the hours since. By glossing over the matter in that way Elena had only been trying to keep the peace, but her openness with him suggested that she would have welcomed reciprocal honesty. Now that his temper had cooled he realised that her question was never intended to be impertinent, only to open a dialogue between them. A necessary dialogue, he now admitted. No relationship could survive if it were based on pretence.

He also knew that, one day, they would have a deeper relationship. She was his wife and nothing would change that. It behoved them to make the best of the situation. After all, many marriages were based on mutual respect. There was no reason why they shouldn’t have a future together, even if it wasn’t the one either of them would have chosen. Eventually they were going to have to talk and he would have to tell her the truth. He had no idea what might happen after that, but more than anything else he dreaded her contempt. After what he’d done, or rather failed to do, how could any woman think him worthy of her affection?

That evening they camped by the side of a small lake. Since water was an important consideration for both horses and humans, Harry had planned his route accordingly, making use of the maps Don Manuel had provided. Small streams or springs served their turn and supplied what was essential, but the thought of being able to bathe for the first time in days was very appealing. It seemed he wasn’t the only one to think so.

‘A swim would be very agreeable,’ said Elena, when the subject was first broached. ‘But if you and Jack wish to go first Concha and I will prepare things here.’

Harry grinned. ‘A generous offer. However, I believe the rule is ladies first.’

‘Very well. We accept.’

He reached into his saddlebag. ‘Here. You might want this.’

‘What is it?’

‘A bar of soap.’ He placed in in her hand, closing her fingers around it. ‘Don’t lose it. It’s the only one I have.’

The effect of that casual touch was disturbing. She summoned a smile. ‘I’ll guard it with my life.’

‘See you do. The penalty for failure is severe.’

Although she caught the gleam in the grey eyes her pulse quickened. She had no idea what he might be capable of—in fun or earnest.

‘I’m not going to ask.’

‘What a pity.’

Elena’s cheeks grew a shade warmer. This gentle teasing was more difficult to deal with and, more disturbingly still, part of her wanted to push this a little further. Not so long ago she would have avoided any kind of flirtatious behaviour with a man; now the temptation was strong. With a sense of shock she realised that fear had been replaced by something very like suppressed excitement. It was definitely time to leave.