He chuckled, which lightened her spirits a little. “If you’re wondering why I’ve been spending so much time in the carpentry, it’s for a good reason.” His pipe smoke purled between them, a richly spiced aroma that rivaled her gingerbread.
“Seeing you occupied does my heart good, though ample rest is essential, like Hanna says.” Already they were sounding like a seasoned married couple, or nurse and patient. It chafed her and left her longing for the passionate tie they’d once had. “I’m guessing you’re working on my Christmas gift.”
“I am, aye.”
“I’ve been working on yours too, in spare moments.”
“Honestly, we should be done with such. Your company is all the gift I need, Mae.”
She let that settle as she worked her needles, tears burning at the backs of her eyes. Fears and tears. That was what life had become lately. Tears over death and betrayal and what couldn’t be undone. Fears that Rhys would return to the war. Many injured, wounded men returned to active duty, even limping ones.
“You do believe me when I say that, don’t you?”
His careful question drew her out of her dark thoughts. She didn’t look at him but continued her handwork. “Believe you?”
“That your company is all I need.”
“I’m not very good company lately, mourning James.” To say nothing of Coralie.
James especially was much in mind lately. Even the joys of the season couldn’t shake her sadness or her ongoing worry that the man sitting beside her wouldn’t fully recover but carry a grudge to his grave—or would return to full health only to fall again in some distant field.
“We’re mourning together, then.”
She looked over at him, thinking he had far more to grieve than she. In the flickering light she detected a few new lines in his face, carved by pain and disappointment and all she wasn’t privy to. He rarely complained. And he seemed to be extending some intimacy to her now when they’d not been truly intimate for months.
Her answering unease brought her to her feet. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” Suddenly she craved the cocoa Father Harlow had gotten her at Hough’s store. A luxury. For his coming grandchild, he’d jested.
At Rhys’s aye, she went to the kitchen. She grated cocoa into the chocolate pot, then went to the spice cupboard, which stopped her. The finished uniform coat hidden there made her reconsider their drinks.
When she returned with the coat, holding it to her chest, he was standing by the hearth looking robust. His recovery of late hadbeen nothing short of miraculous, though he would likely always bear a limp. She had prayed unceasingly for his health with every stitch, surrendering her own hopes and plans for their future.
What if he was meant to return to the war, after all?
Standing in front of him, she held the coat out to him with a tentative smile. She didn’t miss the flare of surprise in his eyes. He took it and admired the fine blue fabric, the tailored epaulets and double row of buttons.
“I lined this one with silk, not linen,” she said softly. “And Lucy managed the silver thread embroidery on the collar and cuffs.”
He swallowed, visibly moved.
Her own throat was so tight her words sounded half choked. “Please, try it on.”
He shrugged on the garment in one seamless motion, his arms sliding into the fitted sleeves as the coattails fell to the backs of his knees ... so handsome her heart gave an almost forgotten flip.
“Well done, Mae.” He smoothed the lapels with a sharp tug. “And Lucy.”
The accolade fell short. If he would only take her in his arms and kiss her. It had been so long she’d nearly forgotten that too. Biting her lip, she simply admired him instead, reaching out to brush away a speck of lint on his sleeve.
He was so handsome ithurt.
He held her gaze in a way he’d not done in weeks. “Is this my Christmas present?”
She nodded, unable to look away. Something soul deep made her say, “When the winter is past and you return to the fight, I’ll stand behind you.”
The sudden hush was so fraught she felt near tears again. Had she misspoken? Resurrected some old wounds or poked at a new one?
Sparks flew past the andirons onto the newly scrubbed pine floor, and he ground them out with the heel of his boot. “I’m not leaving, Mae.”
Her stomach lurched. “Why?”
