“So my sisters tell me.”

  “It’s not really possible to stay angry with you.”

  “So my sisters tell me.”

  Lily rolled her lips inward to keep her amusement in check. Roen Shepard required no encouragement.

  “It’s probably only a matter of time,” he said, “before someone mentions the absence of a ring.”

  “Perhaps. Let us just agree for now that it will present another opportunity for you to say you told me so.”

  He smiled a trifle crookedly. “So there is a silver lining.”

  Lily turned to go.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.

  “We are not going to discuss the marital bed.”

  “I was thinking about the instrument case. You offered to take it.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks warmed. “Yes, of course.”

  “But since you brought it up, it’s not unreasonable for your children to expect us to share a bed.”

  “You simply can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “Evidently not.”

  Lily picked up his case. “Shall we go?”

  He gestured to her to precede him. It was his assurance that she wouldn’t clobber him when his back was turned, and her smug smile seemed to indicate that she knew it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Hannah and Clay were playing cards on the floor of the parlor when Lily and Roen passed them on their way to the workroom. Neither of the children looked up when they passed, but Roen didn’t believe for a moment that they weren’t keenly interested in their mother’s activities as well as his own.

  After Lily moved her mending and muslin and returned her basket of notions to a shelf, Roen had enough table space to unfold his maps. He set the tripod beside the folded ironing board and his instrument case on top of the maps. There was more work to be done, and Lily would have kept at it if Roen had not insisted it was enough for tonight.

  “We have to go to bed sometime,” he said, catching her eye as she began to fold yet another arm’s length of fabric. “Lily?”

  She stopped but didn’t put the material down. Instead, she held up the red-and-white-striped cotton remnant in front of her. Roen simply regarded her and her flimsy shield from under a sardonically raised eyebrow and waited her out. She required a few moments to steady her breathing and then mocked herself with a short soft laugh. “I’ll do better,” she said. “I suppose I am skittish.”

  “A little. May I?” he asked, pointing to the fabric she was still clutching.

  “Oh. Yes.” She passed it to him.

  Roen made short work of folding it and added it to the stack leaning somewhat precariously to the left of the door. “You need more shelves.”

  “Mm.”

  Roen fully intended to leave then, to extinguish the lamp and follow Lily out, but she stayed his hand simply because she was standing beside the table looking heartbreakingly lovely in the flickering light. Her blue-green eyes were luminous, her sweet mouth gently parted. Her topknot tilted slightly to the right and loose, curling threads of hair trapped the lamplight and glowed like a Madonna’s halo in a Renaissance painting. Her porcelain-smooth complexion was tinged with pink color, and the way the light played against her neck emphasized the delicate hollow of her throat.

  “Lily?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I want to kiss you.”

  Those luminous eyes widened a fraction.

  “Very much. May I?” He was encouraged when she remained where she was, though every line of her body was pulled taut. “I’m wondering if you might want it, too.”

  “I, um, I . . .”

  “That’s not permission,” he said. “But neither is it a refusal. May I take your hands?”

  She hesitated a long moment before she nodded.

  Roen thought she would hold out her hands and thus maintain some distance between them, but she didn’t do that. Whether she didn’t think of it or was too stunned yet to manage it, he didn’t know, but her hands remained at her sides and he had to breach that firm but invisible boundary she kept around her. His fingers circled her wrists and then slid down to cup her palms. His thumbs brushed the backs of her hands. He held her loosely so that she was not in any way his captive. It was Lily who kept herself there.

  “Will you look at me?” he asked. “I mean my face. You’re staring at my vest. That’s only acceptable if I have a soup stain.”

  She looked up. In contrast to his steady gaze, her smile was tremulous.

  “Better,” he said. He slowly bent his head. “Much better.” Roen wasn’t sure that Lily wouldn’t turn away. He would have been disappointed, but he wouldn’t have been surprised. She didn’t, though. He heard her quiet intake of air when his mouth was a mere hairsbreadth from hers. It made sense to him, that sound, because it was his breath that she took away.

  His mouth touched hers. The shape of her mouth did not change under his. Her lips remained firm, not pliant. She did not return the pressure he applied, though the pressure he applied was a light touch. She was unresponsive, untouchable, unfathomable. Roen drew back and his eyes grazed her face. She was pale; whatever color the lamplight had infused into her complexion was gone now. Her eyes were open and he suspected she had never closed them.

  Lily had suffered his kiss. Roen thought he might be sick that this was her reaction. When his stomach quieted, he said, “I didn’t mean for it to be a punishment.”

  “And I didn’t mean for you to realize it feels that way.”

  “You were holding your breath, weren’t you?”

  She nodded and pressed her lips together.

  “Your hands are cold,” he said, squeezing them lightly.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  He started to release her, but she slipped her hands under his and held on.

  “No,” she said. “It’s good like this.”

  Roen folded his hands around hers a second time and then he raised them and pressed them to his chest. She’d be able to feel his heartbeat, feel the furnace that was his skin through his clothes. A sound escaped her lips; a hum of pleasure, he thought, and because she did not appear embarrassed, he decided she hadn’t heard or hadn’t realized it had come from her.

  When she closed her eyes, he bent his head and placed his mouth against hers again. She stirred, surprised, but stayed exactly as she was. Her lips parted on the same sweet breath she had taken before, only this time she breathed out as well. Roen stole that breath.

  He took care to see that the kiss was brief, that it remained chaste, and that she wasn’t merely suffering his touch. When he lifted his head, her eyes were still closed, her face stayed tilted toward him, and the imprint of his kiss lingered in the shape of her mouth.

  A small shudder shook Lily’s slender frame. She tipped forward and rested her forehead against Roen’s shoulder. “I wish you hadn’t done that,” she whispered. “You didn’t ask if you could.”

  His chin rested against her hair. “Was it against your will?”

  She was a long time in answering. Finally, “No.”

  “But you would have liked a moment to prepare, is that it?”

  “Yes.”

  “To steel yourself.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Lily ducked out from under his chin and tugged on her hands to free them from his grasp. He let her go easily, but she didn’t go far. Her back was to the table. She curled her fingers around the edge. “Must you have a reason? Isn’t it enough that I don’t want to be surprised?”

  Roen considered this. It was a half-truth at best. “It’s enough,” he said at length. “For now.”

  Lily stared after him as he left the room and continued to stare at the vacant doorway. It felt like a long time later that she extinguished the lamp and followed in Roen’s wake. She had provided him with an explanation, hadn’t she? It had to be enough. For always.

  * * *

  • • •

  Hannah and Clay eventually tired of their waiting game. Playing cards had only ever been an excuse to stay up as long as possible and keep Lily and Roen in their sights. Some of the pleasure they derived from that was taken away when Lily suggested that they play cards as a foursome, and after she and Roen won the first three games, they surrendered to their yawns and trudged off to bed.

  “You cheated,” Roen said, gathering the cards.

  “Shh. They’ll hear you.”

  “You cheated,” he whispered. He got up from the floor and held out a hand to Lily. “I haven’t played cards on the floor since I was eight. The next time you have this idea, we move the game to a table.”

  “Agreed.” She put her hand in his and let him assist her to her feet. “Why do you say I cheated?”

  “Because I watched you deal from the bottom of the deck and tuck cards you didn’t like up your sleeve.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t try that if we’re on opposite teams. I’ll call you out and your children will learn how they’ve been duped.”

  She tried to judge how serious he was, but his features were inscrutable. “Oh, very well,” she said uncharitably.

  Roen chuckled. He squared off the cards, set them on the mantel, and glanced in the direction of the stairs. “Do you want to get ready for bed first or shall I?”

  “I’ll go. I’m only a little less tired than my children. Will you bring the blankets when you come up? I’ll take the pillow.” She and Roen stooped at the same time to retrieve the items under the side table. Their hands brushed. Lily pretended not to notice and imagined it was the same for him.

  Once she was in her room, Lily quickly readied for bed, brushing out her hair and securing it with a ribbon, washing her face at the basin, and brushing her teeth. She removed two thick comforters from the trunk under the windowsill and laid them on the floor between the wardrobe and the bed. She added a quilt and tossed the pillow Roen had used the night before on top. It landed in the middle, which she thought was just as well. He could decide which end he wanted to claim as the head. When she was satisfied that she had done enough for him, Lily lifted the covers on her bed and slid in under them. She left the lamp burning because he would need the light to navigate but it made her feel somehow vulnerable. It helped when she turned away from the lamp and burrowed her head more deeply into her pillow. Still, she couldn’t help listening for him.

  It was not possible to know how much time passed before she heard him on the stairs. More than a few minutes, certainly. Less than an hour, probably. Contrary to what she thought was possible, she’d actually fallen asleep. It was his quiet footfalls that roused her. She remained as she was, turned on her side away from the door with her eyes closed.

  Roen paused upon entering the room. “You’re awake,” he said. “I thought I’d left it long enough that you’d be sleeping.”

  Lily rolled onto her back. Her cheeks puffed as she expelled a long draught of air. Until then, she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. “How did you know?”

  “You weren’t breathing. I didn’t figure you for dead so it meant you were playing possum.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mm-hmm.” His eyes drifted to the neatly laid out comforters and quilt on the floor. He hefted the blankets in his arms. “Where do you want me to put these? I didn’t expect you’d have a bed made for me.”

  “Put them on the floor beside your bed for now. You might find that you need them. When the fire in the stove dies, it will get cold in here.”

  Roen dropped the stack and nudged the pillow with the toe of his shoe to the far end of the blankets. When he lay down, he would be lying in the same direction as Lily. “Do you want me to turn back the lamp?”

  “I left it burning so you wouldn’t stumble around.” She turned her head a fraction in Roen’s direction. He was surveying the room, memorizing the placement of the furniture, she supposed. “You can extinguish it when you like,” she said. “I don’t need it.”

  Nodding, Roen opened the wardrobe and removed his nightshirt. He flung it over his shoulder before he turned back the wick in the lamp. Darkness was not absolute. Coals in the corner stove burned hot with a red and orange glow. The light flickered dimly through the grate, throwing objects in the room into dark relief.

  Roen sat down on the vacant side of Lily’s bed.

  “What are you doing?” she asked when she felt the depression he made in the mattress.

  “Taking off my shoes.”

  “There are other places you can sit. The chair, for instance.”

  “This is more comfortable.”

  For you. Lily thought it but refrained from saying it aloud. She rolled on her side again so her back was to him. She flinched as one shoe thumped to the floor, and again as the second one fell. Lily was relieved to know that the rest of his clothing would be removed silently until her imagination provided her with a picture of what she couldn’t hear.

  She saw him removing his jacket and laying it over the back of the chair because she suspected he was fastidious that way. He used only one hand to deftly unfasten the buttons on his black wool vest. He would fold it, she thought, and place it on top of the jacket. She fancied him tugging on his stiff collar and then pulling the shirt over his head. It would join his other belongings. She felt the bed shift as he got to his feet and dropped his suspenders and trousers. She wondered if he would kick the trousers into the air and try to catch them before they fell to the floor. Clay did that sometimes; Ham did it less successfully.

  In her mind, Roen was wearing a flannel undergarment. She squeezed her eyes tight as if that could prevent her from seeing if he removed it. It didn’t. And he did. She stared at his naked back, the movement of his shoulders and the taut curve of his buttocks as his nightshift fell into place, covering all of his best parts, at least the best parts she was willing to imagine. If she had been able to conceive of him turning around, she decided she would spontaneously combust.

  “Are you done yet?” she asked when he sat down on the bed again. She thought he might have chuckled at what she considered a reasonable question.

  “Socks,” he said. “I take them off last when the floor’s cold.”

  “Are you folding them?”

  “Rolling them. Is that a problem?”

  “Not if you can teach Clay and Ham to do the same.”

  “Done.”

  Lily didn’t know if he meant he was finished with his socks or agreeing to teach her boys how to take better care of their clothes. When she felt him move off the bed, she supposed it was the former. She heard the blankets being moved around. He lightly punched the pillow to make it a comfortable place to lay his head. She waited until he was quiet before she said good night. She expected him to return the sentiment. Instead he posed a question.

  “What do I do if one of your children comes in?”

  Lily sighed. “You’ll think of something. I can’t right now.”

  “I’ll probably say I fell out of bed.”

  “See? You’re very good.”

  “Or that you kick me in your sleep and I had to move down here.”

  “Say whatever you like.” She yawned widely. “G’night.”

  Laughter rumbled quietly at the back of his throat. “G’night, Lily.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Roen was aware of heads turning as he and Lily arrived at church with the children in tow. Hannah and Ham slid into the pew first. Lily and he followed with Lizzie and Clay coming in behind. Roen knew that strangers would find nothing remarkable about their family, except perhaps that the children were so well behaved, but Roen also knew there were no strangers in Frost Falls and he and Lily were attracting more than their fair share of attention.

  Someone let the cat out of the bag. It might have been Maxwell Wayne, who had suspicions because of Lily’s cake order, or Mrs. Mangold, on account of the little bouquets that Roen bought for Hannah and Lizzie, or even Hitch, who’d sworn he wouldn’t breathe a word to his mother but hadn’t actually promised not to tell anyone else. If he’d mentioned it to Fedora, it was likely she had mentioned it to Ellie, and Ellie would have confirmed it with Ben and Ridley, and from there it would have spread like butter on a warm biscuit.

  Roen made it his business to smile politely at members of the congregation who tried to surreptitiously glance his way. Lily had a different approach. She pretended she didn’t see them. Roen nudged her with an elbow. She poked him back. When it was time to rise for the first song, Roen held his hymnal high and grinned diabolically at Lily from behind it. She trod hard on his foot.

  There was no escaping the genuine well-wishers and the merely curious who lined up to greet them following the service. Roen slipped his arm through Lily’s to keep her steady, but after accepting the first few congratulations, he realized it was unnecessary. Lily rose to the occasion and stood on her own, smiling as people she’d known all her life took her hand and shook it, folded her in a happy embrace, or bussed her on the cheek. There were exceptions, of course. Amanda Springer spoke all the right words. It was her delivery that was cool, distant, and vaguely skeptical, and based on the disapproving looks she gave her son, Roen believed she resented not being one of the first to learn about the marriage. Her husband, on the other hand, offered warm compliments and invited Lily, Roen, and the children to join him at the Songbird the following evening for a congratulatory toast. Ginger beer or sarsaparilla for the children, he promised when Lily hesitated and Amanda looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Jim Springer was so sincere in his offer, so hopeful for agreement, that Lily graciously gave in.

  The children cheered her decision, but Roen was suspicious of it. When they were on their way home and the children were walking ahead chattering among themselves, Roen asked her why she had accepted Jim’s invitation.