Desert Angel (33 page)

Months earlier she had been a little girl masquerading as a woman, but experience had forced her to mature almost overnight. As a brief flash of panic flared through her, she wished that she was once again a little girl, who could run to Mama and find the gentle love and understanding she so desperately needed.

March walked out of Jamie’s room, knowing that she would never again share it with the child. From this night on she would sleep in the big bed in Jim’s room, sharing it through the many years of their lives together as man and wife.

Wife! She pulled the door closed with hands that had started to shake. With a few words spoken in the meadow just a short time earlier, she had become a wife. She had vowed to love, honor, and obey, to spend the remainder of her life as the mate of a man she barely knew.

True, she had lived with him for the past few months, but as his employee, not his wife. A man could easily treat an employee in a manner completely different from that in which he treated a wife. If he abused an employee, the person could simply quit the job and leave. But a wife had no such choice, she was stuck, and if children were involved, she had the added responsibility of protecting them.

“God, let him be gentle, “
March prayed silently as she stood at the top of the steps, looking down at the darkened room below. At least he waited for her in his study, rather than in the bedroom. It didn’t help that she knew firsthand the degradation and humiliation that awaited in the marriage bed, and added to her prayer that Jim would be a considerate lover, unselfish in his demands and compassionate of her fears.

Clenching her sweaty hands into fists, she readily admitted that she was terrified. Her one experience had left an indelible scar that hadn’t begun to fade even a year later.

Her knees seemed ready to collapse beneath her with each step, as she reluctantly descended the stairs. Trying to convince herself that Jim had always treated her kindly didn’t alleviate her fears. She kept remembering that always before she’d had the choice of staying or leaving. Now the choice had been taken from her.

With an undignified plop, March sat down on one of the steps. This was getting to be ridiculous. For the last two hours, she had been dreading the moment Jim would claim her as his wife. Clutching her head between her hands, she wondered what had happened to her common sense. Had it flown out the window as she repeated her wedding vows? She had come to this house with a less than decent reputation and with two dresses in her possession. Jim had offered her a job, a home, and a security she had never known before.

He trusted her to care for his infant son. He had seen her desire to learn to read, and had taken time from his busy schedule to become her teacher. And in the weeks that had passed, he had become her first real friend.

So, she asked herself, what’s all this nonsense about being afraid? He wasn’t going to suddenly turn into a monster, because she was now his wife rather than his housekeeper. There was no unpleasant surprise waiting for her once they were in bed. She knew exactly what he would do, and while she didn’t look forward to it, she knew she could always close her eyes and practice her spelling words, until he was finished. It would be over in quick order, and then they’d sleep.

Sighing at her own stupidity, March rose to her feet. Being a wife brought a good many changes, most of them pleasant. Jamie was now her son, no one could ever take him away from her. She had a beautiful, if somewhat large, home, plenty of food to eat, and a wonderful feeling of security.

If Jim wanted to claim his husbandly right once or twice a month, why, she could tolerate that. It wouldn’t take all that long, and her spelling could always use all the practice it could get.

Straightening the skirt of the nightdress that had been a present from Mazie, March continued down the stairs. It was just a little awkward, this coming together the first time. After tonight, they’d find a routine, and within a week or two, it would be like they had always been married.

Jim had taken off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. For nearly an hour he’d tried to occupy his time, and his thoughts, with something other than the woman who was now his wife. He’d had little success, and his nerves were stretched so tightly, that he felt like he’d break if he had to wait another minute. He knew she was scared, but putting it off was only going to make her anxiety worse. Time would prove that she had nothing to fear of him, or of their marriage.

Deciding that she’d had long enough to get Jamie to bed — hell, she’d had long enough to run halfway to town! — he knew he had to take matters into his own hands.

Reminding himself that he needed to practice extreme gentleness, Jim blew out the lamp on his desk and turned to the one across the room, beside the chair March usually occupied.

A flash of movement at the doorway attracted his attention. Suddenly, Jim forgot to breathe, as he stared at the vision that was his alone. The cream-colored nightdress and matching robe teased and enticed, emphasizing the very curves it sought to cover.

The entire bodice of the robe was made of lace that hid nothing of the plunging neckline of the dress beneath it. Long bell-shaped sleeves, also made of lace, gave alluring glimpses of the bare shoulders and arms. Feminine shadows beckoned with an irresistible temptation to touch, to explore, to taste. Silky hair nearly to her hips hung in an inviting cascade of golden tresses.

Jim remembered to breathe, when the room started to swirl around him. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her, as he slowly approached, trying to force himself to act as normal as possible.

“New dress?” His voice was deceptively casual, while his eyes burned with a hunger bordering on starvation.

“Yes, do you like it?” March twirled in a circle, unknowingly making the hem of the gown float just above her slender ankles.

“Oh, I like it, angel.” Jim’s voice was a husky rasp. “I like it entirely too much.”

“Mazie gave it to me as a wedding present. She said she knew that you’d like it,” March smiled innocently. “I can’t understand why she thought it was necessary for you to like it, when it’s a gift for me?”

“Can’t you, sweetheart? I think it is a wedding present for both of us; for you to wear and for me to admire.”

“Something this pretty shouldn’t be kept hidden in a bedroom. It should be worn for everyone to admire.”

Putting his fingertips beneath her chin, Jim raised her head. “It is indeed pretty and you are beautiful, but I don’t want anyone else seeing what’s for my eyes only. They’ll just have to wonder what’s put a smile on my face.”

March looked at his grim mouth. “Do you plan to do a lot of smiling?”

“Constantly.

“When are you going to start? You certainly don’t look too happy right now.”

“Later, angel, I’ll smile all the time. For now I’ve got better things to do.”

Jim traced the outline of her lips with his thumb, pulling back the fuller lower lip to find the delicate skin inside. He felt her tremble slightly, and smiled with satisfaction.

“You’re smiling,” she mumbled.

“It’s just the beginning, Mrs. Travis.”

March’s eyes widened at the title. “I am Mrs. Travis, aren’t I? I hadn’t given that much thought … March Travis … “

Without warning, Jim bent and swung her into his arms. He turned and carried her from the room.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, March leaned confidently against him. Whatever was about to happen, she could endure. It was such a simple thing to do for him. He had given her so much, surely she could give him this, she decided with a sigh. So far it had been … pleasant. His admiring gaze had been unexpected, his gentle touch pleasurable.

Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, March closed her eyes as her head rested against his shoulder. Soon it would be over, and she could sleep. It had been a long day, filled with excitement and new experiences.

Expecting his destination to be the bedroom, March was startled when she heard a wooden chair sliding across the floor. She opened her to eyes to find that he had carried her into the kitchen. He smiled mysteriously as he lowered her to the waiting chair.

“I have a special surprise for you, Mrs. Travis.” After lighting a lamp, he walked across the room, stopping in front of a wooden barrel that hadn’t been there earlier. March’s curiosity grew as she watched him pry off the lid, and then scoop out handfuls of straw. By the time he freed the clay crock embedded beneath the straw, she was leaning so far out of her chair, that she was in danger of falling.

“Mazie wasn’t the only one to give us a wedding present.” Jim carried the bowl over to the table. “Walt made this specially for you, and said I was to give it to you when the time was right. I think about now would be the best time for you to have it.”

Anticipation brought a glow to her stormy gray eyes, as she reached for the lid. The coldness that met her fingers confirmed her hopes.

“Ice cream!” March removed the lid, delighted by the creamy confection in the bowl.

“It’s not going to last much longer.” Jim dipped a finger into the melting cream. “The ice in the barrel is nearly melted, and this is a little milkier than usual. Walt knew it wouldn’t last, but he wanted to give you something special to remember the day by.”

“I don’t think I will ever forget this day.” Unable to resist for another minute, March stuck a finger into the ice cream. “But it sure was sweet of him to do this.” She licked her finger clean, closing her eyes with delight.

“If you’ll wait just a few more seconds, I’ll get a spoon.” Jim grinned at her. “I wouldn’t want you to miss any of this.”

He returned with two spoons and sat down beside her, pulling the bowl between them. Like greedy children, they consumed the ice cream, sharing the pieces of peaches Walt had mixed in. The heat worked quickly, turning it into liquid, but neither of them minded.

In the kitchen of the big house, with only the light from a single lamp, they began their lives together as husband and wife, by sharing the simple delicacy.

Jim entertained her with stories of his childhood, while growing more and more intrigued with her smile, her soft laugh, her sparkling eyes. By the time the bowl was empty, March was completely relaxed, and Jim was aroused to a fevered pitch.

“All gone.” She sighed with contentment as she scraped the spoon over the bottom of the bowl.

Taking the spoon from her hand, he placed it on the table and put his fingers beneath her chin. Leaning over slightly, he softly kissed her lips, tasting the peach ice cream lingering there.

“I want to make love to you,” he whispered.

“I know,” March replied quietly.

“I don’t want you to be afraid.”

“I’m not.” She smiled confidently. “I was, at first, when I realized what you’d want to do to me, but then I got to thinking about it, and, after all, it only takes a few minutes, and I can practice my spelling while you’re doing it.”

“What?” Jim leaned back, letting his hand drop from her chin. “You plan to practice your spelling while I make love to you?”

“Sure … I mean, I won’t take my list with me, but I can practice my days and months. And if I’m not sure about one of them, then I’ll wait until you’re done, and I can ask you. I won’t interrupt you or anything.”

Shaking his head, Jim didn’t know whether to laugh in amusement or howl in outrage; somehow he was torn between both emotions.

“Sweetheart, making love isn’t something to do alone.”

“Well, of course not. I don’t know much, but I do know that.”

She was so innocent, he thought with an indulgent smile. For all her experience at the vile hands of Fred Hamner, she still didn’t know the first thing about making love.

“You won’t … ah, mind?” he asked, trying to hide a grin. “I mean, I don’t want to interfere with your spelling.”

“You won’t.” March patted his hand lightly, unaware of the open challenge she had just offered.

“Well, as long as you’re sure …”

Jim blew out the lamp and again swung March into his arms. Guided by the light of the full moon, he effortlessly maneuvered through the room. Her long gown wrapped sinuously around his legs as he slowly climbed the stairs, her bare feet peeking from beneath the hem.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking.” March snuggled contentedly into his arms. She knew he wouldn’t drop her, and she found that it was nice to have someone to depend on. Granted, this carrying her from room to room was only for this one special night. But from now until the end of her life, she would have him to count on when she needed him.

Until she was relieved of it, March hadn’t realized how much responsibility she had carried on her shoulders for so many years. Her mother had had so many children so close together, that she was usually either expecting or healing. As she had grown older, March had gradually taken over the burden of taking care of the little ones.

Her life now seemed almost leisurely. With only one child to care for, she had more free time than ever before. The anxiety over food, shelter, and clothing was one of the past. As Jim’s wife, she could expect him to worry over such things, while she tended to Jamie and the house.

It was a heady feeling, to know that she suddenly had more freedom and security than she had ever dared to dream about.