Big Sky Rancher (24 page)

“Sweetheart.” It was all he said, but it was enough. Lucas would be all right. As surely as she knew there were stars in the sky, beyond the clouds that were dropping their burden of snow, she knew that Lucas was not hovering on the brink of death. He was strong and vibrant, and would be able to conquer even this injury.

A sound outside the back door alerted her. When the door was opened carefully and Ida peeked through the opening, she waved the woman into the room.

“There's a bunch of folks out here,” Ida said. “I won't let
them in unless you say so. All but the doctor. I think you need him, from the looks of things.”

“Ida.” Speaking her friend's name seemed to release the floodgates and Jennifer found herself crying silently. Quickly, she stifled her fears, knowing that Lucas would not have her weeping over him.

I never cry.
Those words, spoken so many months ago, would forever rise up to haunt her, she thought, and Lucas would laugh every time at her insistence.

She smiled as Ida came in, followed by the doctor from town, a man Jennifer had only seen once when one of the miners had broken his leg up the valley and had been brought back to the boardinghouse. Now she welcomed the man into her kitchen with an uplifted hand.

“These men will freeze out here, ma'am,” the doctor said. “Can they come in and get warm?”

“Of course.” Jennifer felt ashamed that she hadn't issued the invitation herself. The men of the town council filed in silently and stood against the far wall as the doctor approached Lucas. He'd closed his eyes once more, his head cushioned on Jennifer's legs, her hand on his forehead, fingering the bandage Sandy had applied.

“Let's take a look-see, ma'am.” With a tender touch, the man's big hand patted Jennifer's back as he knelt beside her. “I think you're in about as bad a condition as Lucas here. When's that baby due to arrive?”

“Soon,” she said, not caring about herself, so wrapped up in Lucas's wound she could hardly think of the child she carried. “In a few months.”

He bent over Lucas and dealt with the bandage. “Looks like he hit pretty hard, but the main thing is to get him out of this
wet clothing and wrap him in warm quilts,” he said, and Jennifer sighed in relief. “This looks clean to me. I'll just put some good salve on his head and a fresh bandage and then we'll see about getting him into bed.”

He looked up at Jennifer. “Do you need someone to stay here with you tonight?”

“I'm staying.” Ida's words were expected, but Jennifer was grateful nonetheless when her friend spoke emphatically, leaving no room for questions. “I know this house like my own and this girl needs to sleep, or we'll be having us a baby before we're ready for it.”

“I agree,” the doctor said. “I've got some pills for him to take for the dandy headache he's gonna have for the next couple of days. Other than that, you'll just need to change the bandage twice a day, Ida, and watch him for fever. If you have a problem, send for me.”

“And who am I supposed to send?”

“I'll be here,” Sandy piped up. “Lucas is my partner, and I'm not about to leave him alone without a man's protection.” At Jennifer's words of protest, he held up one hand. “I know you can shoot, ma'am, but Lucas would never forgive me if I didn't stick around and look after things for him. There's animals to tend and I'll bet I can find a couple of other things to keep me busy.”

“You got that right.” Gruff tones spoke the words and Jennifer looked down at her husband. “Let him stay, Jen.” Lucas might be laid out with a gash on his scalp and a throbbing headache, but that hadn't made him any less arrogant, she decided.

“All right.” She could do nothing but agree. When the men carried Lucas to bed, she followed docilely, content to have lost control of the situation. Ida pulled the sheet back and the
men stripped Lucas, replacing his drawers with a clean pair Jennifer took from the dresser. Then they placed him in the bed, covering him to the neck.

He moved restlessly and called her name. “Come lie down, Jen.” It wasn't a request but an order, given in typical fashion by a man who expected his will to be obeyed.

“Everyone clear out now,” Ida said, watching Jennifer, as if she recognized the weariness that seemed to have enveloped the younger woman. “Thanks for putting Lucas to bed, fellas, but I think his wife needs to get off her feet, too.”

The men seemed to agree, each of them walking past Lucas to pay their respects as they said their goodbyes to him. “See you in a few days, Luc,” said one.

“Don't let 'em keep you down,” advised another. A third gave Lucas a succinct reminder that he had work to do and didn't need to be ‘layin' around fritterin' away his time.'”

The bedroom emptied and Jennifer found her gown beneath her pillow. “You don't need that,” Lucas said, his eyes half open as he watched her.

“Oh, yes I do. You're going to lie still and behave yourself, and I'm calling the shots tonight, mister. You'll listen to me for a change.”

“Yes, ma'am.” His voice held amusement, but she recognized his capitulation to her edict. Lucas would cooperate.

He was warm, only his feet and hands holding a chill, and she threw another blanket over his feet. Then she crawled into bed beside him and placed his hands against her breasts, holding them with her own, rubbing them so that the blood would circulate more freely. He murmured his approval of her method and she scolded him briefly. Then she touched his mouth with kisses that told him without words that he was
loved, that she would be close during the hours until dawn broke in the eastern sky, that she would keep him safe against any danger throughout the night.

“Sandy?” he murmured, and she soothed him.

“He's on your pallet out in the kitchen and Ida is on the couch in the parlor.”

“Love you.” He mumbled the words and she nodded, understanding the effort it took to utter them out loud.

They slept, Lucas waking once in pain, his head seeming to be pounding. Jennifer rose and found his pills, held him upright as he swallowed two of them with a glass of water, and then touched his forehead with careful fingers lest she disturb his wound.

He slept until dawn then, and when the stove lid clanged, he jerked in the bed. “Damn fool.” The words might have been a mystery to another, but Jennifer read his mind well, after months of living with the man.

“Kyle should have been hanged for doing this to you.”

His voice slurred the words, but he seemed lucid. “He's dead, Jen. That's good enough.”

“I can't believe it. And I can't understand what he came back here for. Surely not just because he was angry with you.”

“Probably.” And that, it seemed, was all he had to say on the matter for his eyes closed and he reached to touch her, one big hand curling around her breast.

“Your hands aren't cold anymore,” she told him, but nevertheless allowed the caress.
Allowed?
She reveled in it, that this strong, brave man should want her, loved her enough to give her his best, and even now was willing to seek her favor.

“I'll be better in a day or so.” His voice sounded firmer than it should, she thought, almost as if he were back to normal.
But a long look at his pale features and the bandage on his head made a lie of that notion.

“You'll stay right here till the doctor says different.” She was proud of her staunch stand, the solid tones of her vow, and was set back but a little when he smiled, his face assuming the lofty look she'd often scorned.

As if he were the one setting the rules, he murmured one word. “Phooey.”

And she was overcome with laughter, so much so that Ida poked her head in the door and scolded her. “You've got a sick man there, girl. Don't be having a party in here now.”

“Good idea.” His murmur reached Ida and she sniffed as she closed the door.

 

K
EEPING HIM IN BED
was a lesson in patience, Jennifer found, for Lucas was not a man to be held captive against his will. Only her presence kept him from rising and dressing and heading off for his claim. After the second day, Sandy left in a huff, weary of Lucas telling him to get back to work in the valley.

“You ought to be ashamed,” Jennifer said, scolding him as she helped him into a shirt. “That man has been here for two days, looking after things and keeping us all safe. And you treated him disgracefully.”

“He's fine. He was itchin' to get going anyway. I could see the signs.”

“Lucas is probably right,” Ida agreed. “Sandy isn't one to sit around for long. He needs to be working. He said he figured he could do Lucas more good by working the claim than he could by staying here looking at the walls. Besides,” she said, “we haven't anything much to worry about, with Kyle out of your lives.”

“He must have been crazy to come back here after Lucas. Do you suppose he really thought he could get away with shooting him?”

“I think the man was demented,” Ida told her. “He didn't behave logically in any way, shape or form, so far as I could see. The silly fool brought that child here, taunting you and being hateful, and then tried to come at you with a gun. If Lucas hadn't stopped him that day, he'd have laid you out dead on the kitchen floor, you mark my words. And so, the idiot was madder than a wet hen at Lucas for ruining his revenge against you, even though he really didn't want the baby, just wanted to make some money off of her.”

Ida shook her head, stuffing her hands into her apron pockets. “We'll never know what was going around in his head, girl. He was loony, is my guess.”

“Evil.” With a single word, Lucas spoke Jennifer's mind and again she was reminded that their thoughts seemed to run in the same patterns.

“Lucas is right. Any man who would be willing to sell his own child doesn't deserve to live,” Jennifer said. “I never thought I could be so cold-blooded, but there it is. I didn't know how fortunate I was to have Lucas until I took a good look around and saw the men in this world. I hadn't ever spent much time thinking about men before I got out here in Montana. And I'm more thankful than anyone knows that Kyle was such a lousy shot.”

“Thank God,” Lucas muttered.

She looked at him. “I'm not sure what you meant by that.”

“He's talkin' about you lookin' over the men in your life. What he meant was if you'd looked around at the menfolk back home any too good, you'd probably have been snatched up by some Yankee and he wouldn't have had a chance at you.”

“Amen.” Lucas seemed to be getting somewhat religious today, Jennifer thought.

“Well, anyway, I'm glad Kyle is gone and we don't have to be concerned about him any longer.”

“Now, you get yourself finished with dressing that man, and come on out in the kitchen for some dinner,” Ida told her. “I think he's well enough to sit up to the table and take a little nourishment.”

Getting Lucas's trousers on was not a simple task, Jennifer found, for he put on an act of total helplessness, requiring her to close up the front placket, first tucking in his shirt before she buttoned the buttons and put him together. He enjoyed it far too much for a man with a gash on his head, but there was no accounting for Lucas. And if the truth be known, she wouldn't have him any other way.

L
UCAS FRETTED
and stewed. The fact that Jennifer was handling chores he deemed to be beyond the strength of a pregnant woman didn't seem to cut any ice with her. She just smiled and did as she pleased, and all of his growling seemed to have little effect on her.

“I need to be taking care of the horses,” he told her. “What if one of them crowds you up against the side of the stall? Then what? What if—”

“What if, nothing,” she responded. “I'm capable of taking care of horses, or milking a cow and feeding a few chickens. I did it before, and I can do it now.”

“You weren't pregnant before.” He glared at her, but confined as he was to a chair for the next two days, it seemed he hadn't much choice. The doctor had been explicit. He'd had a concussion and it was nothing to fool around with. He'd do as he was told or Jennifer was to come to town and get him.

The thought of his wife heading off for town alone was enough to make Lucas blanch, and he tried to cease his grumbling. She'd do it. As sure as shootin', she'd get on that damn horse, or else harness the mare and hitch her to the buggy. Either way, she stood to be hurt should either animal make a
wrong move. They were gentle horses, but it wouldn't take much to knock Jennifer off her feet, as unwieldy as she was.

“Please, Jen.” He thought he sounded contrite and she glanced at him from across the kitchen.

“Please, what?” She didn't sound friendly, he decided. Perhaps more tact would be required.

“I'll worry if you go off to town. Let me take over some of the chores, honey.”

“You never call me
honey,
” she said. “What's the occasion?”

“Jen, I don't want anything to happen to you. Think what it would do to me if you got hurt out there in the barn. I'd have to come to the rescue and between us we'd be in a fine fix.” He paused a moment. “Haven't I ever called you that before?”

She shook her head. “You know you haven't.”

“Maybe I was saving it for now. For a time when I needed to get your attention and make you listen to me.”

“And you think that's gonna do it? I don't think so, Lucas.”

“Jen.” All kidding was set aside now. He felt a sense of desperation. “If you'll let me go out and help with the chores, I'll take it real easy, and I won't fuss at you about making love for another two weeks or so.”

“Fuss at me? About making love?” She looked thunder-struck. “What on earth are you talking about? That should be the furthest thing from your mind, Lucas. You've been badly hurt and come right close to dying, right here on the kitchen floor. On top of that, you could have died in that river.”

Her hand waved at the spot in front of the stove where he'd sprawled just the other night and he caught a glimpse of tears in her eyes. “Don't cry, Jen. Please. I love you, and I don't want to have to worry about you.”

She walked to where he stood and looked down at him. “Are you strong enough to hold me on your lap?”

“You betcha, sweetheart.” He patted his knee and pulled her closer. She settled there and leaned to kiss him.

“I'll make a deal with you, Lucas. If you promise to behave and not do too much, I'll let you go out to the barn with me and help with the chores.”

“And what do I get out of this?” he asked.

“You'll see.”

It was late at night when the last light in the bedroom was extinguished and Jennifer was a pale shadow against the wall. She wore her loose gown, since almost nothing else fit her anymore. She spent a lot of time in this gown and a robe that covered it.

She made her way to the bed, stood on the oval, braided rug beside it and stripped her nightgown off, dropping it on the floor. “Lucas?” She spoke his name softly, trying to determine his location in the big bed, and was not disappointed by his quick answer.

“I'm here, Jen.” And so he was, within touching distance, in fact. And touch her he did, with warm hands and long fingers that held the weight of her pregnancy in their grasp. He brushed one hand up and over the rounding of her belly, felt the nudge of a small knee or elbow, and laughed.

“He's awake.” As if the baby heard her father's words, Jennifer felt the quick jerk of her child as she kicked. There was little room left in there to maneuver, but somehow the baby made space for herself and had even taken to stretching out full length, pushing with tiny feet against Jennifer's ribs.

“I'm not complaining, truly,” Jennifer had said just last night.

“Oh, yes, you are,” Lucas had told her with a rich chuckle.
“But I don't blame you, baby. I'd do more than complain if I were you.”

“Like what? This is a nine-month sentence, Lucas. I can't shorten it in any way, just serve it out.”

He'd hugged and kissed her, comforted her as best he could, and gained a certain amount of pleasure for himself from the warmth of her body. Now he wondered just how far he could go along those same lines tonight.

“Do you think it would hurt the baby if we snuggled a little, maybe did some smooching?”

“Smooching? I've never heard it called that before.” She laughed. “You can smooch if you want to, Lucas, but don't expect a whole lot from me. I'm rather beyond the point of passion, I fear.”

“I can still make you feel good,” he promised her. “Don't you believe me?”

“Seeing is believing.”

Her cool return made him choke with laughter. “You're a wicked woman, Jennifer. It's a good thing you're my wife already or I'd have to chase you down and marry you.”

She lifted her arms to circle his neck and kissed the side of his throat. “I love you, Lucas. If you still want me, big belly and all, you can have me. I'm not much to look at, but I'm available.”

“Not much to look at? You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen, love. There's not another woman in this world who can come near you.” And the thought that she loved him was enough to bring his tightly reined passion into full bloom. He kissed her eyelids and the crests of her cheeks, and brushed numerous caresses across her forehead, even as his hands gathered handfuls of her hair, releasing the sweet scent of her soap. The perfume rose to tempt him, the aura of the woman
he loved. She was lush and inviting, and she'd given him the right to do as he pleased with her.

What he pleased was to give her pleasure, to bring her with him to a culmination of their loving, and in so doing, deliver the ultimate release to himself. For nothing delighted him so much as the response of his wife in this bed.

She clung to him, whispering soft words he could barely hear. It was not the words he cared about but rather what they implied: the joyous giving of her body into his care. She loved him, not as boldly as she might have several months ago, or as she might several months from now, but with a pure delight that transformed her into a temptress he'd never before seen.

She moved to slide beneath him and he rose quickly, unwilling to place undo pressure on the baby. “Can we do this?” she asked softly. “Is there some way?”

“I've got an idea,” he told her. “Not guaranteed, but I'll warrant it'll work well enough.”

“You told me once you'd show me lots of things,” she teased. “Is this one of them?”

“I've never done this before with a pregnant woman, and in fact, it's been longer than you'd believe since I did it with anyone other than my wife.”

“I believe you, Lucas. If you tell me it's true, I believe it.”

She was but a pale form in the darkness and he leaned over her to where a lone candle stood on the table by the bed. “Can I light this?” he asked.

“If you're really fond of fat ladies, you can,” she said with a laugh.

“I'm real fond of you.” And as if that were his final word, he found the box of matches and lit one, watching as the candle wick caught fire and burned.

Jennifer blinked. “It's bright.”

“Yeah, I know.” He felt like a man about to unwrap a precious gift and bent low to kiss her again. “You're so pretty, Jen. So soft and sweet. Have I told you that before?”

“Not lately,” she said, pouting a bit. “But you can keep right on with it. Every woman likes to hear such things.”

He spread her legs wide and knelt between them, lifting her thighs atop his own. “We've done this before, sweetheart. Remember? It'll keep my weight off of you.”

“I can't hug you, though.”

“Later on, I'll hug you all night long,” he promised, and then began his slow seduction of her fruitful body. She was lush, her breasts full and heavy, and he lifted them, kissing them and touching them with his tongue, careful lest he hurt her, knowing she was sensitive.

In moments she cried out for him, lifting to bring him closer to the place that wept for his presence. His hands loved her gently, his mouth gave her pleasure and she responded with murmurs of desire, reaching for him, luxuriating in his care. His entry was smooth, easy and gentle, and he took short strokes, knowing it would not be enough for her, yet fearing to go too deep, lest he cause harm, either to her or his child. His hand touched her, there where soft folds hid the sensitive place he sought, and trembled as he felt her warmth and the damp sweetness of her desire.

His body rushed toward completion and he tried in vain to hold himself back, but to no avail. Even as his seed rushed forth into the warmth of her body, he heard her cry of delight, felt the clasp of her muscles, and knew that he'd given her the pleasure he'd set out to bring her.

He rolled to his side, bringing her with him. “I didn't hurt
you, did I? Was I too rough?” He held her, aware that she was fragile. “I had no right to do that,” he whispered. “I should have left you alone, sweetheart.”

“No, no. I'm fine, Lucas. More than fine. And you haven't hurt me. Please don't think that.”

“What if I've made the baby come too early?” The fear that had beset him made itself known in the question he asked.

“This baby will come when it's ready. Ida told me that. She said there's not much can bring a baby early, not unless I were to have a bad fall or an accident. I've had neither and I'm not worried about it.”

He heaved a sigh of relief. “Come here, then. I need you as close as I can get you, baby.”

His arms were strong around her, his whispers soft in her ear as he lavished love upon her in those hours.

 

I
T WAS AS
Ida had said. Nothing would bring the baby until it was ready to come, and that day did not arrive for a few weeks. It was a morning that promised spring, warm air causing Jennifer to leave the door open, allowing the breeze to flow through the house. She sorted out the eggs, setting aside six dozen in a crock to take to town. The chickens were producing more than the two of them could possibly use and she'd found that the storekeeper was happy to get fresh farm eggs.

They would carry them in later, she thought, after Lucas finished with the chores. He'd told her that he'd worked his last day on the claim until the baby arrived, and she hadn't argued the point. Happy with his company, she looked forward to the next weeks. Surely the baby would wait another few weeks, maybe a month.

It was not to be. She stood from her chair, bending her
back, twisting it to gain relief from the aches that had plagued her today. With a gush of fluid, she found herself soaked from crotch to ankles as her bag of waters broke, making a mess on the kitchen floor.

“Well, I'm glad that didn't happen in bed,” she said to herself, setting about to clean up the mess.

It was a bigger task than she'd thought possible, and she had only just located a bucket for hot water and a rag to clean up things when Lucas came in the back door.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I'm going to clean the floor.”

“Oh, no you're not. I'll do it.” He was adamant.

“I made the mess. I'll clean it up,” she argued.

“What did you spill?” he asked, looking around for an empty pot or container of some sort she might have dumped onto the floor.

“Nothing. I didn't spill anything.” Inexplicably she began to tremble and he rushed to her, snatching her into his arms, looking her over from head to toe, as though she might begin bleeding any moment.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Tell me what's wrong. I can't fix it if you don't tell me.”

She responded by offering him a fresh deluge of tears. “You can't fix it. It's all your fault, anyway. And don't you say one word about me crying. I have a right to cry if I want to.”

“What's my fault?” He was stunned, looking down at her now as if she might explode any minute. “What did I do?”

“You got me in this fix, and I haven't got things all put together yet, and the baby's going to come anyway, and I'm not ready for it.” Her nose ran and the tears flowed without end. “I'm a mess,” she howled, “and it's all your fault.”

“Then I'll have to fix it, won't I?” He backed her to a chair and put her in the seat, watching her closely. “First I'm gonna clean up the floor, and then I'll help you get washed and put a nightgown on you.”

“My nightgown isn't clean. I put it in the wash basket this morning.”

“What were you going to wear to bed tonight?” he asked, puzzled.

“Nothing. I was going to go to bed naked. So there.” She cried without ceasing and he watched her even as he wiped up the floor, rinsing his cloth several times and then using clear water to wipe up the final mess.

“Don't you get off that chair, you hear me?” He stalked out the door, the bucket was plopped upside down on the back porch, the rag over the clothes line, and he looked into the sky for a moment before he came back to the kitchen. He was at a loss. A woman in tears didn't generally affect him to this extent, but this was
Jennifer,
a creature without guile, a woman who did not cry, not ever.
Ha! She was the leakiest woman he'd ever set eyes on.
And at that thought, he could not hold back a smile.