Authors: Megan Hart
Then again, it was more likely she would have slashed him down with one look from those emerald green daggers she had. No, he'd done right by riding off. She didn't have to hear his excuses, and he didn't have to risk her scorn. This cabin was just where he belonged. Why, then, did he feel so rotten?
He hadn't even stayed to see if she was going to be all right. She would really think him a cad now. He shifted again, bits of straw piercing him all over like the pinch of a witch's fingers.
It was easy enough to see there'd be no sleep for him. He might as well get up and make himself useful. The cabin was going to need a lot of work if he was going to make it livable. Jed sat up, scratching at all the places made itchy by the mattress. As he yawned and stretched, a glint of fire on the pillow caught his eye.
Jed reached down and plucked up a long, fine strand of auburn hair. Caitleen's hair, on his pillow! It must have been there since they had sought their refuge from the storm.
"Hell and blast!” he swore again, louder this time. He wanted to release the shimmering strand, but his fingers wouldn't open. Instead, his hand closed tight around it, as if it were a priceless treasure.
He fancied he could smell lilacs, which he told himself was plum ridiculous. No way this one measly piece of hair could hold her scent. Still, he brought it up to his face anyway, letting it tickle his nose and cheeks, then his lips.
"I'm a dang fool,” Jed muttered, tossing the reminder of Caite down to the floor, where it still shimmered in the firelight. He couldn't quite bring himself to grind it away with his foot.
It's a terrible thing, he reflected, when a man can get all torn up over something as stupid as a piece of hair.
With that, he got out of bed and set himself to work.
Caite had slept easily, despite the multitude of thoughts whirling in her head. It seemed once she had made the decision to tell Jed how she felt, everything else clicked into place. She was nervous and excited, true, but just knowing she was going to do it had taken away much of her anxiety.
She opened her eyes, seeing the sun shining in through the window. Her first thought was to press her hands against her belly. She knew it was too soon to feel anything, but her sense of wonder was there all the same.
"I'm going to have a baby,” she murmured, just to hear the words. A grin split her face. “A baby."
And would her father not be fit to split when he heard? Caite nearly laughed at the thought.
And Gerda!
She would be so happy. Caite decided after she and Jed were safely married, she would send for Gerda. The older woman could live with them and help care for the baby, just as she had cared for little Caitleen.
Caite could just see everything before her. A large, airy house with a stable full of horses. She and Jed sitting on the front porch in the evening. Jed would dandle the baby on his knee while she sewed.
Caite spread her fingers across her abdomen, imagining she felt the first swelling there. Would it be a little boy with her auburn curls, or a daughter with her daddy's dark hair? One thing she knew for certain—the baby would have emerald green eyes.
"Caite?” Sally spoke from the doorway. “Are you awake?"
Caite smiled and stretched. “Yes, Sally. Please come in."
Sally brought in a tray heaped with food. “How do you feel? Well enough to eat?"
"I do not think even Shorty and Albert together could pack away that much food.” Caite laughed. She goggled in amazement at the tray. Eggs, toast, biscuits and jelly. Several flapjacks and a steaming pot of tea finished everything off.
"You need your strength.” Sally set the tray down on the desk. “But how do you feel?"
Caite thought for a moment, taking inventory. “Wonderful,” she answered. “My head does not ache nearly so much, and my face hardly stings at all."
"Work in some more of this cream,” Sally ordered, handing her the small jar. The other woman busied herself with settling the tray on Caite's lap and pouring a mug of tea. Then she glanced at Caite. “How do you feel otherwise?"
Sally must be talking about the baby. Caite flushed. She was carrying a child, and she was not married. She ought to be ashamed. Caite lifted her chin and met Sally's gaze solidly. She ought to, but she refused to be.
"You mean about the baby."
It was Sally's turn to flush. “And Jed."
"We're going to be married,” Caite replied firmly. “As soon as I can get to him and tell him I love him."
Sally let out a relieved chuckle. “Oh, thank Heavens! I was so afraid you'd changed your mind! I'm not sure what we'd have done if you weren't getting married."
A baby without a husband was a sure-fire way to step down in the eyes of society, Caite thought. She could not expect Sally or Lorna, or any of the others to condone this pregnancy. Nor could she expect them to allow her to stay on at Heatherfield.
"If you find my ... condition to be embarrassing,” Caite said stiffly, “I shall be happy to leave."
"Leave!” Sally was shocked. Then she shook her head, smiling. “Caitleen, I wasn't pointing any fingers at you. A baby is always reason for joy, no matter the circumstances. No, honey, I was just afraid you'd gone all stubborn again and weren't going to tell Jed anything. I might've had to shake some sense into you!"
"I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, Sally. I'm sorry.” Caite was relieved.
"Don't you worry, Caite. Buck would never let any grandbaby of his get out of his reach. And Lorna! My heavens, Lorna is about to bust her buttons from excitement.” Sally paused, her eyes twinkling. “I'm going to be a grandmother, Caite!"
The two women shared a hearty chuckle at the thought. Sally was a year or so older than Jed, no more. Far too young to be a grandmother for certain.
"Thank you for everything,” Caite said sincerely. “You've been so kind."
Sally fluttered her hands and grimaced. “Hush now. Eat your breakfast."
The eggs and flapjacks certainly did look good. Caite took another bite, chewing carefully to prevent hurting her blistered lips. She washed the food down with a swig of tea.
"How long do you think I need to rest?” she asked when her mouth was clear. “From what you said last night, Jed is not planning on returning any time soon."
"No, probably not,” Sally replied. “He tore out of here like he was on fire. You're going to have to go to him, I think."
"How soon?” Caite asked eagerly.
Sally looked her over quizzically. “I'm afraid it might be as long as a week, Caite. You took a pretty bad tumble. Your skin is healing nicely, but I'm still afraid—"
"I don't want to jeopardize the baby,” Caite cut in. “Besides, I've waited this long. I suppose I can wait a while longer."
Sally patted her hand, then gathered the tray. “You just rest here, honey. Before you know it, you'll be on your feet again."
Sally left the room. Caite tried to relax, but very soon she began fidgeting. She had slept so soundly the night before, she was hardly tired enough to take a nap. She had not thought to ask for any books to read, and in any case, her eyes were still a little swollen. Her hands, too, were not fit to hold a needle and thread, so darning or embroidery was out. The luxury of staying abed had palled already, and it was not even noon!
After another few moments of shifting under the bedclothes, Caite threw off the heavy comforter. She slid her feet over the side of the bed. Surely just a little walk could not hurt...
"You weren't thinking of getting out of bed now, were you?"
The male voice from the doorway startled her into a shriek. Heart pounding, Caite fell back onto the pillows. Miles Shaw was standing in the doorway.
"Sheriff Shaw,” she said weakly. “You frightened me!"
Miles took off his hat and came closer to the bed. “I apologize for that, Miss Caite.” He held out his hand. “I don't reckon we've been rightly introduced. I'm Sheriff Miles Shaw of Staghorn."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Caite shook the older man's hand. Her heartbeat had slowed, thankfully. She had thought for a moment she might faint.
"Are you?” Shaw asked, tilting his head at her. “Pleased, I mean."
"I am not the sort to hold a grudge,” she replied. “Besides, it was not your fault I ran away. I take full responsibility for my own foolishness."
Shaw nodded, accepting her comment. “Few people take their own blame, Miss Caite. I'm willing to agree to yours, but you'll have to agree to my part in the whole situation. You wouldn't have been running if you hadn't thought I was coming after you."
"And you wouldn't have been coming after me if Jed hadn't put you up to it,” said Caite firmly. “So perhaps we should just blame Jed for everything?"
Shaw obviously caught the humor in her tone because he grinned. “Seeing as how he's not here to defend himself, I'm not sure that's fair. But I'll say all right to it anyway."
"Good,” Caite said. “At least we have that settled. No more apologies from either one of us."
Shaw tipped his hat to her, preparing to duck out of the room. “I just wanted to see how you were doing before I headed back to Staghorn."
"Sheriff Shaw!” Caite called after him. He turned. “Thank you."
Shaw nodded. “You're welcome, Miss Caite."
"You will come to the wedding, will you not?” Caite asked.
Shaw grinned. “So there'll be a wedding, after all?"
"I'm most certain of it,” Caite replied firmly, her eyes twinkling.
"Miss Caite,” Shaw replied, “I'd be most honored to see you wrestle that ornery son of a gun into matrimony. I surely would."
Caite smiled serenely. “You will not have to wait very long, Sheriff Shaw. I can practically guarantee that."
The first thing Jed did was to throw open the cabin door and unshutter the two tiny windows. Morning sunlight streamed into the dark interior, illuminating the dirt and neglect all over. Cobwebs hung from the corners, and he could nearly grow flowers in the dirt on the plank floor.
"It sure looked a lot cozier the last time I was here,” Jed muttered. He thought of Caite again, and how being with her had made everything seem fresh and clean. No use dwelling on the past, though. He had lost his chance with the woman whose emerald eyes had matched his own.
Well, it wouldn't be the first time he'd thrown his heart into a woman and had it tossed right back. He should have learned his lesson from Patricia, though he couldn't really compare the two, could he? Trish had sucked dry his every emotion, never being satisfied he loved her no matter how many times he'd poured out his heart and soul for her pleasure. Caite, on the other hand, had only asked for one thing—that he say the words. He hadn't been able to, and so he'd lost her.
No use standing around feeling melancholy while I have work to do.
He wanted to clear the land for his new stable and corral as soon as possible. When he had room for them, he'd bring the mares he'd bred to Zeus from Heatherfield, and get his own stock started. His favorite mare, Folly, had foaled a pretty little filly this spring. He'd named her Tickle because of the way her lips tickled his palms when she took the carrots from him. She would be the first start to his horse ranch.
Before he could do any of that, though, he needed to get his house in shape. If he planned to stay here all winter—and he did—he'd have to make some major changes. Jed didn't fancy sitting inside with the wind whistling around him like cowboys in a whorehouse.
Jed first shook out the rough wool blanket from the bed, then folded it neatly over his arm and hung it outside. Next, he tugged the lumpy straw mattress off the bed and tossed it out the door. Later this afternoon, when the sun had burned off all the dew, he'd cut some sweet grass to dry and stuff a new mattress.
With the ragged broom he found in one corner, Jed began pushing all the dirt from the floor out the door. It sure wasn't manly work, but the thought of sleeping another night in this crusty shack disgusted him. He'd lived too long with Lorna's spotless housekeeping to get comfortable with grime.
When the floor was as clean as he could make it, Jed made a swift inventory of all the supplies. The shelves held several dusty cans of beans and a very rusty can opener. He had brought along a tin of coffee, a sack each of flour, cornmeal and sugar, and a kettle. Several plates, a tin cup and a bent tin spoon also lay on the shelves. The stack of wood near the fireplace was still ample, but it would not last very long. He'd need to replenish.
He might want to round up some fresh meat, too. Jed knew there were plenty of rabbits around, and it would just take a few well-placed snares to have some fresh rabbit stew for dinner.
He was out the door and heading into the brush within minutes. Being outside in the clean air and sunshine lifted his spirits a little. Jed paused to look toward Heatherfield, shielding his eyes against the glare. He couldn't see the house, of course, but that was just as well. If he'd been close enough to see her, he'd be back there in a shot. No, the mountains rising in the distance were a better sight for him anyway. His life was like a mountain—a long, rough climb through jagged peaks, then getting to the top only to find a valley on the other side.
Jed shook his head roughly. No use getting glum. He had dinner to trap. He strode away over a hill and out of sight of the cabin.
Caite hummed to herself as she slid the yarn over the long needles. She had convinced Lorna and Sally she felt well enough to sit on the porch for the afternoon, and had even begged some white yarn and knitting needles. Her hands still ached a bit as she stitched, but she kept applying the soothing cream.
"There,” she said softly, holding out the tiny cap for Lorna's approval. “Is it not the most cunning thing?"
Lorna, who was sewing a square for Sally's wedding quilt, nodded. “Lovely, child."
"I promise to help you with Sally's quilt as soon as I can hold that tiny needle again.” Caite flexed her fingers slowly.
Despite the ache, the skin was not as taut and swollen as it had been. She had peeked in the mirror before coming out to the porch, and been pleased to see the dead skin had sloughed away. The blisters on her lips were almost healed. While it would be some time before the angry color left it, her face was starting to look more normal.