Authors: Adera Orfanelli
Chapter Four
Caroline’s stomach churned like cream into butter. Her husband drove the buckboard, his visage like a thundercloud ready to explode. Guilt nagged at her.
Tell him now and get this over with. If he leaves, he leaves.
Her heart twisted at the thought of her husband’s departure. She thought he loved her and couldn’t imagine his leaving, but she had to consider the possibility; she’d known women abandoned for less. Damn Mr. Nash. He had known of her plight. She’d purchased supplies for the coming baby, only to pack them away in a trunk. The doctor worked in the building next to the mercantile, and he’d come to her aid. No doubt gossip about poor Mrs. Dunworth had spread throughout the town, no matter how Samuel might have tried to quell it. Her father had been dead by then.
Two hens squawked in their crate. Her neighbors had promised a rooster to celebrate Travis’s return home. Surely the two fowl could be better mothers than she.
Caroline forced herself to reach across the wagon seat to take her husband’s hand. She clutched her jewel pouch in the other, half afraid to have it spill all over the ground. Should Travis decide to leave, she’d need every ounce of gold to try and see her through. At least until Dolly and she could get the crops in the ground and pray that they grew. She breathed deep, relishing Travis’s warm touch. His fingers curled around hers, the strength in them reminding her that he’d fought a war. If he’d faced down his fellow man, she had no reason not to tell him.
Starting the conversation troubled her. Admitting that the mercantile owner had tried to tell him some news made her look like a liar. The tangled webs she’d created with her aversion to his knowing wrapped around her. She opened her mouth only to close it again and stare across the green valley in the shadow of one of the larger peaks in the Ozarks. The road wound down the mountain, a twisting switchback that demanded Travis’s concentration.
“You know this war’s been tough on all of us,” Caroline said, each word carefully chosen. “I’m sure that’s what Mr. Nash wanted to tell you. Especially after the way things went.” She refused to mention the Confederate loss. Though she’d cheered the Union in spite of her husband’s family’s leanings, several of her neighbors hadn’t. The Bushwhackers had left her alone, but just barely.
“I’m sure that’s all,” Travis said, the assurance in his words not matching his stern expression. He glanced at their clasped hands. “You don’t need to explain for him.”
I need to explain for me.
“We were safe. We made it through.”
The road straightened, giving Travis a bit more leeway to focus on her. He squeezed her hand. “I know you did, sweetheart. I’m proud of you for keeping the farm going. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, especially after Samuel’s death.”
It wasn’t Samuel’s death that hurt the most.
She drew a deep breath. Now or never. “Some things happened while you were gone. I…” Words failed her. “I’m just glad you returned.”
Coward! Stupid, simpering coward. Just tell him. He’ll understand. He’s home now. You can make other babes together.
Her stomach twisted, because the truth was she didn’t know if she and Travis would get another chance. The doctor told her it’d been clean, just one of those things that happened sometimes. She swallowed hard, hating the sting of tears in her eyes when she thought about the tiny blue body the doctor had held. She’d caught a glimpse though she wasn’t supposed to have seen anything except the shrouded bundle that they lowered into the ground a few days later.
He’d had his father’s hair. Caroline stared across the bench at her husband, thinking how noble and true Travis looked driving the wagon. He was her war hero, with his scars that only she could see testifying to his brave service. That he’d come back at all made him a hero in her eyes. He hadn’t flinched at her farm or turned away. He understood how hard she’d worked to keep the farm running, though things had fallen behind, like getting more pullets. With the wagon loaded and her husband home, surely they could make anything happen. Even a baby.
By the time the road straightened, she decided telling him would only make things worse. He respected her words about what Mr. Nash had been trying to say. The road twisted again, making speaking up difficult. She trusted her instincts; they’d gotten her through his absence. Now that he was back, she had to believe in them. And hope that if the truth came out, he’d understand.
Though the sun threatened to dip toward the horizon by the time they arrived home, Caroline hopped out of the wagon. She grabbed a basket full of bread and preserves Mrs. Nash had given her and carried her pouch into the house. In the bedroom, she changed into her work clothes, and by the time she stepped out, Travis had taken Dolly and the buckboard to the barn.
“I’m going to settle the pullets,” she said. With the work she’d done, the crate and fowl proved to be no problem. She carried them to the chicken coop, thankful to have some layers again. The birds hopped out of the crate as soon as she opened it, and she busied herself with scattering a bit of grain and getting water from the well. With the chickens in their coop, she went to the field, thankful to find the soil dry enough for plowing.
Determined to get some work done, Caroline headed to the barn. She found Dolly groomed and put away, the mare placidly chewing on a small handful of hay. She patted the big gray nose and hadn’t the heart to make the mare work. With only a few hours of the afternoon left, she might get half a field done, a first one if she was lucky, and that was only if she pushed them both hard.
Caroline smoothed her hand down Dolly’s neck, noting the sweat drying on her coat. Sighing, she lifted the bar across the front of the stall and stepped inside to check for other signs of work. A few sweat marks covered Dolly’s back, though it appeared Travis had brushed the mare after removing her harness. Though the mare appeared rested, Caroline hated to stress her.
The field wouldn’t plow itself. In the back of the barn, Travis unloaded the buckboard. He carried a bag of coarse ground flour into the cabin, his muscles bulging with the effort. Out of her day dress, Caroline found herself reminded of the hard work she’d put in to keep the farm running. With the sun overhead, they needed to work, whether it was getting the chickens settled or plowing the fields. “I’m sorry, girl. I’m going to have to take you out again. I’ll make sure you get an extra scoop of oats tonight. We won’t have any apples or carrots for a while.”
The large draft mare snorted against Caroline’s shoulder. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around the mare’s thick neck and held her. The two of them had stood together through many things and an afternoon’s worth of hard work was the least of them. She went to the hanger on the wall and picked up the heavy leather harness.
Boots crunched against fallen stalks of straw. “What are you doing?” Travis’s voice echoed in the barn.
Caroline stilled, the harness heavy in her arms. “I was going to see if we could plow before dark.” She turned to find her husband standing at the end of Dolly’s stall, patting the mare’s neck. His nonchalant pose, his white shirt unbuttoned to reveal a large swath of his chest, the sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms, made her think of the fresh pile of hay in the corner of the barn and a thick blanket she’d kept here in case she needed to guard Dolly. Warmth fluttered low in her stomach.
“We went into town and back. I’m sure Dolly would appreciate the afternoon off. The fields will still be there tomorrow.”
Her steps faltered beneath her husband’s logic. “We’re already behind time to get the crops planted. I don’t know how long it will stay dry.” She tried to protest, but the sight of her husband after so long was like a soaking rain ending a drought. “And what do you propose we do?” As soon as the question slipped from her lips, she longed to pull it back.
Travis’s attention dipped to the vee of her shirt, where it opened to reveal glimpses of her rounded breasts. The trousers molded to her hips and legs. “Well, I was going to say finish unloading the wagon, but seeing you like this…” Travis straightened and strode toward her.
She backed up, intending to return the harness to the rack on the wall. She managed to turn and slip the leather straps back in place before her husband reached her.
His arms wound around her waist, pulling her against his body. He nuzzled her hair. “I’m not sure whether I like you like this or corseted in your day dress. Each does have its advantage.” He traced the open vee of her shirt, his fingers dipping perilously close to the rise of her breasts.
Caroline held her breath. Warmth spread through her veins, making her limbs heavy. She licked her lips, her mouth parched. Looking down, she watched her husband’s fingers flick open the buttons one-by-one until he had the front of the shirt undone and she stood bared to the waist.
His fingers slipped inside.
“Travis,” she moaned as his hand closed over one of her breasts. The nipple pressed into his palm, and if it weren’t for his other arm snug around her waist, she figured she’d tumble to the ground. Her knees shook. “Please,” she whispered.
“Please what?” His voice rasped against her senses like a rough caress. “Do this?” His fingers slid around her nipple, pinching it into a tight peak. “Or this?” He caressed her stomach until he stroked the skin just above her waistband back and forth, back and forth.
“I…” Caroline floundered for words. Her fears, her worries, faded away beneath her husband’s touch. Turning her face toward him, she reached up to slide her fingers over his stubbled cheek. With him, it was always like this, his talented fingers able to take away her worries. How she’d missed that when he’d been fighting. Now that he’d returned, she drew a shuddering breath. “Shouldn’t we—”
Travis dipped his head and kissed her.
She titled her face toward his, the angle awkward. Opening beneath him, she invited his tongue into her mouth. She arched against his hard body, needing the solace he offered her. Maybe this time they’d create a babe, and maybe God would let this one live. She turned in his arms, the pile of hay not far away. A soft bed for her husband’s loving, that’s all she wanted.
“The blanket,” she whispered when the need for air parted them. She pulled from his arms long enough to get the soft, thick quilt. Travis followed her to the hay, and she lay the blanket down on the fragrant grasses. Then she tugged her shirt free and, emboldened by her husband’s reaction, slipped it from her shoulders.
She reached for the button on her trousers.
“Here, let me.” Travis knelt before her. He rested his thumbs on either side of her navel, then slowly, so slowly she thought she might melt, unfastened the buttons holding up her trousers. She’d altered this pair to better fit her, but she’d lost weight so a bit of rope functioned as a belt. He untied the knot, letting the brown fabric pool around her feet.
Chapter Five
Kneeling at Caroline’s feet, looking up her body, Travis found himself once more amazed by his wife. Though her hip bones stood a bit too prominent and he swore he could count every rib, she stood proud and defiant, making her way through unimaginable hardship. He cupped her slender waist, her rounded hips inviting his exploration. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath. Carefully, he finished undressing her until she stood naked before him.
He continued kneeling, humbled by his wife’s beauty. Her rounded breasts still lifted. He rose onto his knees and pressed a kiss just above her navel. Closing his eyes, he drew the faintest hints of her musky fragrance into his nose. He ignored his own needs, his shaft thick and hard in his trousers, and walked his hands up his wife’s ribs to brush against the undersides of her breasts.
He nuzzled her skin, working his way back down over her stomach to the top of her thigh. Shifting her weight, Caroline parted her legs. He nuzzled the soft flesh of her inner thighs, then worked toward the heart of her.
She bent forward, fingers curling around his shoulders. He licked her soft folds, and she gasped. Tiny whimpers emerged from her mouth, and gently he helped lower her to the blanket. Travis remained between her spread legs, wanting to love his wife until the dark shadows left her face. He lifted each of her legs over his shoulders, nestling down on the soft bed of hay covered with the thick, downy quilt. For a moment, he savored his wife, the vision of loveliness spread before him. Her trust and openness touched him, made him want to share his life with her, watch her bear his children, grow old together. Lowering his head, he gave her the most intimate of kisses, making love to her with his mouth.
He’d only done this a couple of times before when they were first married. Being home from the war made him want to love her all the more. He drew her swollen bud between his lips and sucked, tonguing it gently. Her hips rolled and he placed his hands on them to hold her still.
Her breathing grew ragged. Damn, he loved that he could make her fly apart like this, that the touch of his breath, his fingers, and now his tongue on her most intimate places made her moan with need and frustration. He slid his tongue inside her.
“Travis!” Caroline shrieked his name.
In the stall next to them, Dandy snorted. His hoof thumped against the wall.
He had her on the edge of release. Masculine pride rolled through him, and he lifted his head, needing to be inside her now. Travis pulled away long enough to shed his pants, then crawled over her body, settling his hips between hers. He smoothed his hand over her hair, undone from its pins to swirl around her head. Kissing her, he savored her mouth, her lips and tongue pliant beneath his. Then, she wrapped her arms around him and drew him to her.
“Please,” she whispered, shivering beneath him. “Make love to me.”
“As you desire.” Travis kissed her again, pouring his heart and soul into the movement of his lips against hers. Beneath him, Caroline lifted her hips, her legs wrapping around his. She perfectly aligned their bodies, until there was nothing he could do but sink into her heavenly warmth.
Travis moaned. He surged forward, joining them with a long, sure stroke. As one, they moved together, joining time and time again. Deep inside, he felt her tighten around him, her heels digging into his buttocks.
“Caroline,” he moaned. “My dear, sweet Caroline.” He kissed her lips, claiming her, marking her as his own.
She pulled away only to cry out as her body tightened around him. She shuddered with the force of her release, taking him over the edge with her. He clung to her, their panting breaths mingling in the early evening air. Around them, life settled into night. And all he wanted to do was take his wife into the house and love her until they fell asleep.
He shifted to the side, taking his weight from her, and smoothed his hand over her hair and down her body. His hand rested over her womb. “Maybe we’ve made a babe,” he said. “Wouldn’t that be a grand homecoming?”
Her closed eyes fanned her lashes against gaunt cheeks; she didn’t answer him. He brushed his thumb across her breast, then back up to stroke it across her full lower lip. In repose, she appeared serene, as if she held no secrets from him. He wished that were the case, and hoped, in time, she’d tell him the truth. No matter what had happened, he’d love her. He always would.
Caroline savored each moment of her husband’s caress, guilt weighing on her like a heavy winter mantle. His words echoed her own hopes, and yet revealed her secret. His hand rested warm against her body. The need to tell him, to reveal her burden, grew by the moment. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, the love shining from his eyes enough to bring tears to sting her own. She rolled away and scooped up her clothes. Hastily she dressed, then held out her hand to her husband.
“I want to show you something.”
His eyes widened but he said nothing. Instead, he stood and pulled on his clothes. Once decently covered, he offered her his hand.
She took it, needing the strength in his fingers. The time was now. If they were to go forward and build a life together, there could be no more secrets. Her body ached pleasantly from his loving, her breasts still sensitive and heavy. She led him out of the barn, noticing the streaks of red and orange in the western sky. They’d almost waited until dark; she was thankful they hadn’t.
The small cemetery sat a distance away from the house. Just walking here with her husband eased the heavy weight in her heart. Once he knew…well, then she would know. And she squeezed his fingers, praying to God that Travis would stay. She drew a deep, shuddering breath wondering how to find the words to tell him that she’d failed to bear him a son.
“The cemetery?” he asked when they stopped outside the low wooden fence.
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. Opening the gate, she led him through, glad that enough light remained to see. There, next to the crosses that marked her father and Samuel, stood the one that honored her son. She took him there, the dirt less fresh than over Samuel’s grave. A few raggedy weeds poked from the bare ground. Flower seeds had been on her list of things to buy in town once she had the fields planted. She wished now that she’d had her husband buy them today. Except they seemed frivolous when listed next to such staples as flour and salt.
She knelt and blinked back tears. Her womb ached, remembering that fateful day when the first labor pains had struck. “This is what I wanted to show you. This is what Mr. Nash was trying to tell you at the store.” She brushed dirt away from the words inscribed on the cross, then stood to await her husband’s response.
“David Travis Dunworth. Died at birth,” Travis read. He drew a harsh breath. “Our son.”
Caroline reached for him, curling her fingers around his arm. “Yes. I conceived the last time you came home on leave.”
“You didn’t tell me? You didn’t write a letter?” Travis turned and cupped her shoulders, staring into her eyes. He searched for something, maybe an answer, maybe the truth, maybe a reason to discard her.
A lump formed in her throat. “You had other things to worry about. Your country torn apart by war. Your family living in a Confederate state.” She shook her head, willing him to understand. “Things can happen out here. I grew up on a farm. I didn’t want to tell you until I knew for sure the babe would live.” She swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to worry you.” Reaching up she stroked his cheek, hoping he saw the anguish twisting in her soul.
“You should have told me.” Travis turned to kneel at his son’s gravesite. “A son. God, Caroline, you should have told me.” He pulled her down beside him.
Caroline wrapped an arm around his shoulders, her forehead resting against his arm. “I know. If you want to leave, I understand. I didn’t…” She let her words fall into silence, not sure how to tell him. Anything she said would only sound trite now. With the fury of war surrounding him, informing him of another death, one closer to home, would have only made him worry.
“You didn’t tell me about Samuel either,” Travis said.
His soft words lifted her hopes. Maybe he understood. “I only mentioned my father because Samuel was here to help keep the farm running. He’d protect me and he did. One of the last things he did before the cough took him was to go into town and secure promises from Mr. Nash and the blacksmith that I’d be taken care of, no matter what.” She reached down with her left hand and squeezed his. “I love you, Travis. I know we haven’t had much time together, but I do love you. You’re a kind, good man. And you deserve a wife who can bear your children. Not a woman like me.” She sighed and let her chin fall to her chest. She stood in the small, family plot, counting how little she had to offer Travis. The farm barely supported itself, though in other times it had flourished. She feared her body would never carry a baby to term. Travis, her war hero, deserved so much better.
“Maybe I do deserve a woman like you, Caroline.” Travis’s soft words startled her.
“You do?”
He smiled, laughter tumbling from his lips like water over rocks in the creek. “You’re a strong woman, Caroline. You kept this farm going. You survived the loss of your father, your son and your brother. Even now, you were willing to use your mother’s jewelry to pay for supplies. Why would you ever think that I wouldn’t deserve you?”
“I—” She stuttered, aware how foolish she probably sounded. “I don’t know,” she admitted at last.
“I think you’re the one who doesn’t deserve me.” He tilted her face so she saw the sincerity in his blue eyes. “My family may be farmers, but I never learned the family trade. You’ll have to teach me. You may find that you’d be better off without me.”
Caroline brushed a kiss across his lips. “I never thought I’d married a farmer,” she said when they parted.
Reaching down, he tangled their fingers. “I wish I had known about my son. I wish I had been here for you.”
She turned into him, pressing her face against his chest and wrapping her arms around him. His words dredged up memories of kneeling beside the grave, crying for the loss of her son, fearing the loss of her husband. Tears flowed from her eyes to dampen his shirt. Her sobs rose and she cried into his chest all the tears that he hadn’t been there to see.
Travis caressed her back, his hands moving with long, sweeping strokes. “It’s okay. I’m here now. The war is over. I’m not going anywhere.”
She relished being in his arms and slowly her tears subsided, though he hadn’t said he loved her.
“We can always try again,” she said, thinking of the times they’d loved since his return home. “Or maybe you’re right and we already have.” She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against her husband’s strong chest. It seemed God had given them a second chance. She vowed not to do anything to ruin it.
“Maybe.” Softness filled his voice. He pulled away long enough to go down on one knee, reminding her of the time earlier this afternoon when he’d knelt before her with desire. He reached for her hands, clutching them to his chest. “My darling Caroline, you were the only thing that I thought about during those long years apart. Your face filled my dreams, and it was for you that I made it out of every battle alive. I fought for my country and my family, but I fought for you, to put an end to this battle once and for all so that we could live in peace. If you’ll have me, a poor Confederate soldier, then I want to stay. I want to make love to you, and I want our love to bring children into this world. Because I know you would be the best mother, just as you’re the best wife.”
Caroline drew a breath, touched by the depth of his emotion. “I’d hoped and prayed you’d come back to me.” She pressed a kiss to her forehead. “God gave me so many burdens to bear, I prayed every night he’d bring my husband home. Farmer or not, my love, you’re my husband. And I love you.”
He stood then and embraced her, his hands sliding down to her hips. His big hands splayed across her rear brought her in intimate contact with his body. “You named him after me,” Travis said. “Your father and me.”
She nodded, her throat too tight to force words. She wondered if he’d even heard her admit her love and if it even mattered to him.
He stepped away and held out her hand. “Let’s go inside,” he offered, and she willingly accepted. Taking her husband’s hand, seeing his fingers entwined with her own, gave her hope. Maybe, just maybe, her husband had come home to stay.