Camouflaged Hearts Anthology Read online

  I blew out a deep breath and allowed him to help me into the wagon.

  I didn't trust myself to speak on the ride to the cottage. The cool evening air was relaxing and the low golden glow of the sun gave a luscious sheen to everything it touched, including Ethan's dark wavy hair. Worried he'd catch me staring, I shifted slightly to watch the passing forests.

  "So, how to do you know Rose?” he asked out of nowhere.

  I tried to focus my gaze away from the countryside and back to my driver. He was smiling broadly as if he knew exactly what I was doing.

  I cleared my throat. “She's my cousin. As we're both alone right now, we thought we might as well be together. The mood in London after the last bombing is dreadful anyway.” I paused. “And you?"

  "She cooks at the farm. She lives on the edge of the property."

  "And you work there too?"

  "You could say that.” I though he blushed just a little pink in the cheeks. “I own the farm but I'm out herding cattle and cutting hay most of the day. We're very short on farmhands."

  "Ah,” I said without much enthusiasm. I wanted to say more but for some reason, I felt like a schoolgirl with a crush around this man.

  It wasn't long before he pulled the mare to a stop and nodded toward a small cottage on the side of the road, covered in heaps of vines and roses. From inside the front window, I could see Rose waving frantically. Her excitement was catching and I leaped to my feet.

  "Now, hold on just a minute.” Ethan leaped from the wagon and jogged over to my side. He held out his hand as any chivalrous knight would and helped me from the wagon. Before releasing my hand, he bent and laid a kiss on my knuckles. Rose completely forgotten, I gazed into his blue eyes; eyes that were eerily the same colour as the twilight sky. Of obvious Welsh descent, his eyes were at odds with his dark colouring. I was intrigued.

  As he stood, he pushed back a stray lock of hair from his face and smiled. My heart was thudding in my chest. I hoped he couldn't hear it.

  "We'll meet again, I hope,” he whispered.

  My words stuck in my throat. I tried to clear them and coughed.

  "I'm sure we will,” I finally managed.

  Chapter Three

  Inside, the cottage was cosy and cluttered. Bookshelves lined the walls and behind the glassed-in kitchen cupboards were teacups of every size and description. Throws covered the back of the chesterfield and old, yellowed pictures were set and hung wherever there was space.

  Rose drew me into an embrace. “I'm so sorry I wasn't there to meet you. It really threw out my day when I wrecked my ankle. It's better now though. See? I'm walking.” She turned in a little circle.

  "I'm glad you're all right,” I said. “Mr. Graham was wonderful to meet the train."

  "He's a doll, isn't he? As much as it's up to me to keep the cottage, he helps out quite a bit around here. You know, fixing fences and the like. And he's not bad to look at either. Wait till you see him in uniform."

  My heart crashed. Not another one. “He's a soldier?"

  "Of course. Aren't they all these days? All the good ones anyway."

  "So true.” What was it with soldiers and me? Why couldn't I be interested in a nearsighted twig of a man, unfit for military duty?

  "Are you alright?” Rose asked.

  I knew I'd probably turned pale and was a bit wobbly from missing dinner. “I just need something to eat."

  It was Rose's turn to pale. “Oh, my lord! Of course you do. Come with me. I did save you dinner. I just was excited to see you and forgot completely about it. What kind of hostess does that make me?"

  "A flattering one, actually,” I answered. It was nice to know someone was excited to see me.

  * * * *

  The next day dawned with a stunning concert of birdsong and bright sunlight. My room at Rose's cottage was entirely too comfortable, and I found I didn't want to leave the warmth of my quilts. It wasn't until I heard a man's voice calling to the cattle in the lower fields to the east of the cottage, that I ventured in my nightdress to the window. I pushed up the sash and leaned outside, the sweet morning breeze bringing the scent of fresh cut hay to my nose. I inhaled deeply. There was nothing like this in London.

  In the distance I could see Ethan pitching hay at a few cows gathered around a salt lick. He called each one by name and patted their huge heads as they came up to them.

  He taken his shirt off and tucked it into the back of his trousers. Beneath his suspenders, his skin glowed brown from the sun and was shiny with sweat. I'd never wanted to lick a man more in my life. The thought sent my nerves tingling. But it had to remain at that—just a thought. He was a soldier and would no doubt be called away soon. On top of all that, I should have been waiting for Will. I'd yet to be informed of his death.

  Just as Ethan looked up and waved to me, I withdrew from the window. I slammed the sash and pulled the curtains. Breathing hard, I flopped back on the bed.

  "Breakfast is ready, Emmy,” Rose hollered from downstairs.

  "Coming,” I called back, wishing Ethan hadn't seen me watching him. I wanted to watch him for a while longer without his knowledge. He moved his body with such fluidity, such confidence that he was almost impossible to take my eyes from.

  "He's on leave, you know,” Rose began. She seemed to be watching me carefully although it may have been my guilt that roused the suspicion.

  "Is that so?” I answered warily. I didn't want it to seem that I cared too much.

  "He doesn't have any family to visit and so he works the farm. It's his relaxation.” I stared out the window at the misty morning fog wondering why a man would choose to be alone on his leave. Most men I knew would find a woman anywhere they could, but there certainly didn't appear to be too many of that sort in Pond Hollow. Most of the women seemed to be taken. Perhaps that was his problem. A night in the brothels of London would have fixed that.

  After a quiet breakfast of scrambled eggs and a warm cup of tea to wash it down, I went outside to find Ethan. Neither Rose nor I knew what to say to each other. I expected comfortable support between us regarding our men, however, it didn't happen. We were both too wrapped up in our own lives right then, to properly comfort one another. That was my take on it anyhow. I think she was as happy to see me out the door after we washed the dishes as I was.

  I spent the day walking through the fields and valleys around Pond Hollow. Not entirely sure of my sense of direction, I took Rose's beagle, Hermione, with me. She took her time following me along, snuffing out various rabbit warrens and the odd bird.

  The day was warm enough to need a hat for sunshade but cool enough that I wrapped my navy cardigan around my shoulders.

  I stopped for lunch in a little bakery on the main street just over the bridge from Rose's cottage. I couldn't resist the scent wafting out into the street. I didn't speak to anyone inside, yet the local crowds watched me closely. Pond Hollow was a small town, full of closely-knit people and the patrons of the bakery were no different. It was obvious to me, that I was the stranger in town and that my actions right then would be my first impression. Where they wondering why I was staying with Rose? No one asked. If they wondered what my intentions were with the bachelor who owned the farm, it didn't come up. I knew I would have to be very careful what I said to Rose. Word would definitely get back to town. I decided to keep my thoughts about Ethan to myself.

  It wasn't until after dinner that I noticed a lantern glowing in the loft of the barn. Ethan's broad form cast a dark shadow across the boards of the loft.

  Sitting in my room reading a Jane Austin novel, I suddenly had the urge to talk to another human being and my gaze kept being drawn to his fluid shadow in the barn. Rose unfortunately was no conversationalist but that was no matter. I missed having a male in my life. That decided it. It wasn't a sin to want male companionship, was it?

  Ethan was pitching hay from the loft of the barn down to the cattle. He was shirtless, his skin smooth and brown from the sun. I watched quietly as he s
moothed his dark hair from his forehead. It stuck up momentarily before flopping back down in his eyes. He was the epitome of masculine form.

  "Hello,” I called up to him. “I'm Emmy Rosthorn."

  He grinned at my obvious foolishness. “We've met,” he said quietly. I'm sure he thought I didn't notice but his gaze was appreciative as it flicked over my body. I'm sure my face was as red as a cherry, but he gave no indication of noticing. At least he found me somewhat attractive. That was encouraging.

  Right that moment as he gazed at me with such intensity, I'd never been lonelier for someone to put his arms around me. It seethed inside me, threatening to pour out all over him.

  "Right then. Have a good day,” I said, backing away. I wanted him more than anything, but the prospect was also terrifying. I would essentially be having an affair. My mind was in turmoil and completely at odds with the feelings in my body.

  "Emmy..."

  I turned toward him. “Yes?"

  "I'm just on leave.” He straightened and leaned on his pitchfork.

  "I'm aware of that,” I said hesitantly, wondering what he was getting at.

  "And you're promised to another."

  I crossed my arms over my breasts. “What's that got to do with anything?” I hadn't said anything about my attraction out loud.

  "It's why there can't be anything between us.” His gaze didn't leave mine.

  "Did I ask that of you?"

  He bowed his head and kicked at a pile of straw. “All but."

  "You seem to know an awful lot about me.” I took the opportunity to walk closer to him.

  "We're both lonely, Emmy, and you're quite beautiful. I saw you watching me, and I just want you to know where I stand."

  "Do you say this to all the girls?” He blushed then and I felt I had some semblance of control over the conversation. I pushed him a bit more. “Did you tell Rose the same thing?"

  "Rose is like a sister to me. We practically grew up together and she doesn't have the need inside her that I see in your eyes. And such lovely blue eyes they are, Emmy."

  I was close enough now to feel his breath on my face. He smelled of sweet hay, sunshine and sweat. It was a heady mixture. It struck me just how much I missed someone touching me, someone wrapping their arms around me. The feeling was something Will would have understood. I'm more than sure he would have wanted the same thing for himself, if I were lost to him. He would have taken the opportunity, I told myself. And so would I. I reached out to stroke Ethan's upper arm. He didn't move, but his breath hitched in his throat.

  "Ethan, what do you think of me? You don't know me. You don't know the man I'm engaged to. Tell me what you're thinking."

  He breathed out in a long sigh. “I'm thinking that I'm incredibly drawn to you, and unless I draw up some rules between us, you'll be difficult to resist. We can't do this, Emmy."

  I deliberately unbuttoned the collar of my white blouse, displaying my cleavage to his eager gaze. He couldn't seem to lift his face to meet mine. I bit my lip, knowing I had him.

  "Yes, we can, Ethan. We will."

  The enormity of the circumstance was increasingly apparent from the changes beneath his trousers. I kept myself from cupping him, although it was what I wanted more than anything. It would have solidified my intentions. Instead, he made the move.

  His arm snaked around my waist. I knew it was an instinctive gesture because his gaze was locked with mine and didn't seem to register the contact. It surprised him when I moved up against his broad chest, allowing his arms to tighten around me.

  His pulse beat rapidly under my palm, his breath whispering sweetly over my lips. The kiss was just out of reach but I didn't want to push him too far. It had to be his move. I couldn't be labelled a tramp in such a small town. If he turned on me and blabbed, I'd have to go back home. That was something I wasn't quite ready for. It had taken all my energy just to leave London.

  I wet my lips, waiting impatiently. As I tilted my head and moved a touch closer, he made his move. Unfortunately, it wasn't the one I was hoping for. He released his arms and took a step back.

  "You're taken, Emmy. I can't do that to the man who holds you in his heart."

  "He's dead, Ethan,” I said, pushing disappointment out of my expression. Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew it to be true. Up until that moment, I truly hadn't felt it. I hadn't allowed myself to think about it, but yes, I just needed the confirmation from the RAF. William was dead to me.

  As he considered my words, my eyes brimmed with tears. It was the first I'd considered that the only thing I missed about William were his warm arms around my body. I was torn between feeling like a traitor and feeling like a needed woman.

  "How can you be sure?” he whispered, once again drawing me close. I pressed my face into his chest.

  "I can't explain, but he's not coming back for me, and I don't want to be alone right now."

  Ethan's chest expanded in a deep sigh. His heavy hand cradled my head. “Ah, Emmy. I do want you. Who wouldn't? But, you don't need me. You're a strong woman."

  "You don't know me well enough to say that.” I nuzzled his neck, my challenges growing bolder.

  "I know you left everything behind to be here with Rose. I know you're not a basket case after losing your future husband. You're more woman than you think."

  I tried to keep from trembling in his arms. He was right. Perhaps I didn't need him quite as badly as I first thought, but I certainly wanted him. Making the final decision, I slipped my fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers.

  I smiled when his breath choked in his throat.

  "You're a wicked woman, Ms. Woods,” he answered, deliberately using my maiden name.

  "Then, be wicked with me Mr. Graham."

  "Anything we do won't be done lightly in my mind. You're beautiful, Emmeline and I can see by your expressions how bright you are. I know you are lonely, and I won't say I'm not. In that way, we're perfect for each other but I want you to know that emotion comes with what we're thinking. It cannot be done without emotion. I would brand you."

  His mouth came down on mine before I had time to take a breath. He pulled me hard against his chest as his hand snaked inside my blouse. He cupped my breast as I raced to rid myself of my clothing. All the while, his lips sought my jaw, the tender skin of my neck and down to my collar bone. Each kiss felt like a searing hot burn. I arched back as he reached to take my nipple in his mouth. The electricity that followed as he flicked the nipple with the tip of his tongue buckled my legs.

  How I'd gone from watching him from my window to bowing under his powerful kiss was almost unimaginable, had I not been experiencing it myself.

  Releasing my breast, he held my weight with one hand while trailing his fingers down my neck. He reached under my skirt, hiking it up. As his mouth once again took over mine and our tongues slid languidly against one another, pulling a moan from deep in side me. Then, as a wave of want washed over me, I wrapped my leg around his thigh. At the same moment, he cupped me between my legs, pushing his fingers into the soft folds and rubbing them tortuously against my clitoris.

  I knew I was wet and wondered if he felt it as well. I ground against his experienced hand, hoping he would acknowledge the encouragement to take things further. I was well past worrying about what anyone would think of the situation, including myself.

  For a moment, I pulled away, reaching for the button at the top of his trousers. His erection was solid, hot against my thigh and enticingly large. I wanted to feel it in my hands, to feel his warmth and his eagerness. Sliding my hand down the inside of his pants brought out his breath in quick, shallow pants. It was all the encouragement I needed.

  Just as my fingers touched the smooth skin of his shaft, it jerked to attention. He pushed his trousers down to his thigh and his erection sprang free, reaching eagerly toward his belly. I wrapped my hands around his shaft and stroked up to the silky tip, surprised that my fingers barely met as they encircled his girth. As I move
d to stroke him faster Rose called from the cottage.

  "Emmy? Emmy, where are you?"

  "Oh, good Lord,” I muttered, dropping my head.

  Ethan laid his chin on the top of my head. “You'd better go see what she wants."

  I inhaled deeply and withdrew my hand. “This isn't over."

  "I sure hope not.” He bowed his head to me as I picked up my skirt so I wouldn't trip and jogged toward the cottage.

  Chapter Four

  By the time I reached Rose, whose face was flushed with yelling, the throbbing deep in my core had subsided. As far as I knew, there was no outward sign of what I'd been up to in the barn.

  "I've been looking all over for you,” Rose complained. For the first time, her voice grated on my ears. My forehead furrowed in annoyance.

  "I was just exploring,” I answered with as much cheeriness as I could muster.

  She wiped at her forehead. “It's just so easy to get lost in the fields, especially at night. I feel responsible for you. I thought maybe you were lost."

  I followed her into the cottage. “I'll be sure to let you know where I'm headed from now on."

  Rose collapsed into an armchair where she picked up a worn novel.

  "What are you reading?” I asked without much true interest.

  She held up the book. “Rebecca DeMourney. She's wonderful, really."

  Wondering how I could possibly entertain myself when Ethan wasn't around, I asked, “Could I borrow it when you're finished?"

  "Of course.” She immersed herself in her book, leaving me to my own devices. God, what had I gotten myself into? I didn't want to be in London, I didn't want to be in Bristol and now, I didn't really want to be in Pond Hollow. Ethan was the only saving grace about the place but he was taking more work than I thought. I wandered through the cottage, my hands behind my back, with no destination. Trying to escape the unease, I retreated, alone, to my room upstairs.

  Although it was still dark outside and I should have been asleep, I couldn't. I was still aching for release. About to solve the problem myself, I jumped when I heard my name called from outside my window. I smoothed my skirt and placed my hands on the sill.