Riven (Mirus 2)

In the silence, Marley could hear him swallow his struggle to take that in. All the years, all the wasted time hurt him as much as it hurt her. The regret that ate at him was something she could feel, pulsing, ugly and mean. She didn’t want it to have the power to keep hurting them both.

Marley blew out a breath. She had to be the one to make it okay. Reaching out, she stroked a hand down the velvety nose of the mare nudging for attention. “I’d have gotten over it quicker if you gave me a pony.”

“Done!” His exclamation was a rough bark of laughter that broke the tension between them.

Marley looked over at him and smiled. He seemed…easier. Even the silence between them felt lighter and warmer than before.

“C’mon. There’s something else I want to give you.”

Marley followed him to a cabin nestled in the woods edging the town. Unlike many of the others they’d passed, it didn’t have a garden or curtains or any other individuating, homey touches. But the windows sparkled and the door, when he opened it, didn’t squeak.

The space was spartan, one room with the rough, wide-planked floors she was starting to recognize throughout Clementine. Clean-lined wood furniture that still held the yellow of fresh timber, simple but beautiful pieces she was sure he’d made himself. The table with four chairs were the only seating other than the bed dominating the opposite side of the room. A cast iron stove took up another corner. The quilt on the bed and the rag rug on the floor were the only things softening the space. No knick knacks, artwork, anything that wasn’t utilitarian.

Harm crossed the room to the chest at the foot of the bed. Lifting the lid, he reached inside. “I’ve been holding on to it all these years, keeping it safe for you.” He drew out a doll, cheeks bright pink with marker.

“Natalie!” Marley’s voice came out raw, strangled with a combination of surprise, pain, and too many other things to process. She found herself standing in the middle of the room, clutching the doll to her chest, and feeling like her dad was her hero. It was more than she knew how to cope with. “How?”

“I got her back when I avenged your mother.” His voice managed to be somehow harsh and gentle. “I need you to know that I saw to that. That bastard didn’t live.”

Marley nodded, clinging to the doll and fighting tears. Following instinct, she moved forward, into him, burying her head on his chest and letting the tears fall on his shirt. Harm’s arms came around her, tentative and awkward.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered.

Harm shuddered once, then his arms tightened around her. “Welcome home, baby.”

~*~

Surrounded by a field of blueprints, Marley hunched over a notebook and scrawled more calculations. Frowning over the result, she checked a measurement on one of the blueprints and made a minor adjustment before stabbing at the calculator again.

The soft kiss on her shoulder had her jolting. “Time for a break, love.”

A break? She couldn’t take a break. There was too much at stake. “I just need to finish this—”

Ian plucked the chewed pencil from her hand and drew her to her feet. “Time. For. A break. You’ve done the work three times over.”

With an anxious glance at the half-finished equations, she said, “What if something goes wrong?”

He framed her face in his hands, forced her to meet his calm eyes. “Then it won’t be for lack of due diligence on your part. Come for a walk with me.” To settle the matter, Ian kept her hand in his and pulled her out the door.

Marley was startled to realize the day was more than half gone. The two weeks of recon and planning had been at once endless and ephemeral. Tomorrow their plan would be put into motion. Afte

r that…well, it was the after she was having trouble believing in. They’d done the work, spent the time to ensure a solid foundation for the mission. But so much was riding on their success. It was a one shot deal, and she couldn’t help feeling there was something they hadn’t thought of, some angle they hadn’t considered. Which was why she’d been up to her eyeballs in blueprints and calculations since before five that morning.

Milan stood in front of the saloon, a picnic hamper and blanket at her feet. With a hundred megawatt smile, she held them out to Ian. “Everything you asked for. Enjoy!”

“Thanks.” He accepted them both and kept moving.

Marley twisted around to eye the pretty cook, who beamed back with a wave before heading back into the saloon.

“That,” Marley said, “was the look of a woman in collusion. You’re up to something.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Ian. “We have to eat and you need to relax, so we’re having a picnic. Simple as that.”

Maybe it was that simple. Maybe she was over-thinking every damn thing because she was nervous about the mission. It was hard to hang on to that as they made their way up the slope. She had to focus on footing and hand-holds.

“Another time, we’ll ride up, but I thought the climb would do you good,” said Ian.

“Climb to where?”