The Fulfillment Read Free Page B

your taking to the little ones the way you do and keeping them from underfoot.”
    â€œI couldn’t very well run off without knowing whether it was a boy or a girl, could I?” He leaned back and smiled down at her.
    â€œWhich would you rather have, Aaron, a boy or a girl?” she asked, and there was a catch in her heart, a moment of uncertainty during which she knew it was a mistake to press Aaron. She sensed his withdrawal. His hand dropped down from her face, where it had been, and the night cooled the skin he’d been touching.
    â€œWhat difference does it make?” There was an edge of annoyance in his words.
    â€œThings like that matter to a woman,” Pris replied. “She’d like to think they do to her man.”
    Her words formed a cinch around his gut, andhe felt it tightening in a way that needed escape, like he imagined strangling must feel.
    â€œAm I your man?” he asked. There was no warmth to the question.
    â€œI don’t know. Are you, Aaron?”
    He knew damn well what she was trying to lead him to, and the worst part of it was she had every right. But he wasn’t ready to be confronted.
    â€œDon’t push me, Pris,” he said.
    â€œHave I ever pushed you?”
    â€œMaybe push is the wrong word. Maybe it’s pull.”
    She said nothing, and he turned to walk toward the drive. In spite of his reluctance to speak of marriage, he felt he owed her something. He could feel the hope springing in her, and in himself there was something akin to pity because he hadn’t the same nesting urge she had.
    They walked together, but apart, near the corncrib and toward the road. The moon highlighted things: her hair—mussed now—an old, misshapen sweater she’d thrown on against the chill, her downturned face.
    He took her hand in apology and drew her against his side. They walked very slowly, their hips bumping in a familiar way with each step, until by some unspoken agreement they stopped. He knew it had to be brought out into the open, and she’d done her part, more than a woman should have to. His silence belittled her, and she deserved better.
    He eased his hold on her hand and very lightly stroked his thumb up and down her own, feeling her shiver as he did.
    â€œPris, I know what you want,” Aaron said, and his voice was so quiet that her breathing seemed a roar in her ears.
    He stood beside her, unmoving, except for the warm thumb that kept stroking across hers. She waited for him to go on, but he just stood there, the thoughts so quietly loud around them that perhaps they were already spoken.
    â€œWhat is it I want, Aaron?”
    He swung to face her then, and gripped both her hands so hard they hurt. As if unable to look at her, he put his face up toward the sky instead. “Oh God, girl…you want me to marry you, and I should be askin’ right now.” Something told her his eyes were closed, and she heard him swallow.
    â€œBut you’re not?”
    He looked down at her then, but she was looking at the ground. She wondered if Aaron could feel the heat of her face through the night chill.
    â€œNo, Pris, I’m not. I’m just not ready for it yet. And that makes me feel guilty.”
    â€œIs it something I did?” she asked, meaning the time she gave herself to him, blaming herself for it.
    He held her right hand in his, and with his free hand ran the length of her forearm, up and down again and again from wrist to elbow.
    â€œIt’s nothing, Pris, nothing you did. Please believe me. It’s got to do with me, not you. People had us marching down the aisle before we even got used to the changes we saw in each other. We sort of fell together like, living so close like we do. And it’s for sure I enjoy being here—I mean I like your folks…the kids…and you.”
    He put a hand under her chin and made her look up at him as he asked, “Do you know what I’m