Lorraine Heath (18 page)

“I just thought it was because he doesn’t work as hard as you do, that he wasn’t as strong.”

He shook his head, the words clogging his throat. “The doctor thinks there’s something wrong inside his head.” His handsome face contorted with the pain of knowledge. “The pains are getting worse, coming more often. He’s probably … probably …” He burrowed his hands through his hair. “I don’t know how much longer he’s got.”

Her denial of his words was drowned out by her sobs. He took her in his arms, cooing to her, not using words, just soft sounds of comfort.

“He can’t die. I don’t want him to die,” she forced out through her grief.

He cradled her face in his hands. “Ah, Maddie, have you come to love him, then?” he asked hoarsely as his lips trailed over her eyes, her cheeks, tasting the salt of her tears.

Her answer came through her parted lips, silently, warm, welcoming.

He groaned, settling his mouth over hers, kissing her deeply, thoroughly, with all the passion he’d withheld the first time he’d kissed her. His tongue swept through the silken caverns, stealing the treasures of her mouth: the taste, the feel, the hunger.

From her hair, he removed the pins, one by one, allowing the honeyed tresses to pour over her shoulders, to pour into his large hands as he laid her on the moss covered bank and stretched his body along the length of hers.

He lifted his mouth from hers and gazed on her beloved face, bathed in the light of the full moon.

His eyes were as black as the creek, and Maddie thought she’d rather swim in the pools of his eyes than in any waters that rushed by. “There are times,” she said softly, “when I wish it had been you who’d bid on me in Fort Worth.”

Shaking his head, he buried his face in her abundant hair. “No, Maddie. Never wish that. I never would have bid that much money. And if I had, I never would have had the compassion to take you out of there with me.”

He brushed his lips along her cheeks, her chin, the tip of her nose, her closed eyes. Then he released a shuddering breath and nestled his face in the curve of her neck. He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear, feeling the shivers course through her body. Slowly, he unbuttoned the high collar of her dress, trailing kisses along her neck until he could dip his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat.

“This is wrong,” she whispered. “Charles is my husband.”

He lifted his head, his eyes caressing her features. “I know that. I carry that thought to my bed every night and curl up with it and tell myself I can’t feel for you what I feel. But damn it, I do.”

His mouth swooped down to cover hers, communicating silently what he did not have the right to voice aloud. He slashed his lips across hers, his tongue delving deeply.

Whimpering, she arched against him, burying her hands in his hair, pressing him against her, daring to take what he was offering. For the first time, she had a clear understanding of all that was missing from her marriage. Pressed hard against her thigh was the evidence of his desire, and it fanned the flames burning within her heart. And within her heart, she now understood the full extent of her sacrifice: what she felt for this man was what a woman should feel for the man she’d married. She wanted to share his joys, his sorrows, to hold him during the bad times, to have him hold her during the good ones. And she wanted children, his children.

She began to struggle against the feelings in her heart, against the embrace she wanted, the kisses she longed for, the man she loved. She shoved on his shoulders until he lifted himself enough that she could slip out from beneath him.

“Maddie,” he said hoarsely.

She scrambled to her feet and ran. She heard him call her name, imagined him laced with pain that equaled that piercing her own heart. And she ran that much faster.

Charles fought against waking. Besides his usual discomfort, a dull ache had settled in above his brow. He touched the hardened knot and winced at the tenderness. He tried to remember, unable to recall much of the evening at the dance.

He smelled the aroma of the coffee. Squinting against the early morning light sifting in through the windows, he glanced around the room. Dressed for the day, Maddie sat on the bed. He felt the burn on his hand, then grimaced. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

She nodded slightly. He studied her expression, her eyes filled with a wealth of knowledge. He gritted his teeth. “Jesse told you, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Dammit! He had no right!” He jerked upright, threw the covers off, then quickly threw them back over his hips. “Who the hell undressed me?”

“Jesse.”

“Would you please get me some clothes? I can’t very well be indignant when I’m buck naked.”

She walked to the dresser. She supposed his modesty was the result of his accident. Even though he held her at night, she was only familiar with his shoulder, his arms. His lower body never came into contact with hers, and she realized it was no doubt a source of embarrassment for him to have a body that would never again react in the manner Jesse’s had last night. She took out some clothes, carried them to the bed, and sat, holding them firmly in her lap. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“May I please have my clothes?”

“Why?”

“So I can get dressed and go beat the hell out of my brother.”

“No, I meant, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maddie—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Charles saw the tears brimming in her eyes and felt the anger flee. “Because I think if I don’t say the words, it won’t happen.”

“But it will,” she rasped, and he watched the tears flow onto her cheeks.

Nodding, he took her into his arms. “Don’t cry, Maddie. You weren’t supposed to come to care about me.”

Her arms went around him, and she pounded her fist into his back. “Well, I did.”

“You were only supposed to care about the children. And maybe Jesse a little.”

“I love the children.”

“I know you do.” Cradling her face with his hands, he brought her away from his shoulder, his eyes holding hers. “You don’t have to stay. Our marriage hasn’t been consummated. An annulment would be easy enough to obtain. You could go somewhere else, start over. I’d see to it that you had the means to do so.”

Sniffing, she shook her head. “You were there when I needed someone. You helped me, Charles, when you didn’t even know me. How can I not be here for you when I’ve come to care about you so much?”

Tenderly, he combed the wisps of hair back from her face. “It was my pleasure to take you out of Bev’s. What I have to offer you in the months ahead will probably be anything but pleasurable.”

“I want to stay, to do what I can to make it easier.”

“Do you have any idea how much easier you’ve already made it? You love my children as though they were your own. That’s the gift I wanted to leave with them, Maddie.”

“Are you afraid?” she asked quietly.

He gave her a soft smile. “I’m not afraid of the dying, but I am afraid that Alice won’t be there waiting for me. That I won’t see her, she won’t be with me. Eternity without my Alice would surely be hell.”

Softly, Maddie caressed his cheek. He took her hand, turned her palm toward him, and pressed a kiss to its center. “Someday, Maddie, I hope you’ll find the kind of love I shared with Alice. There’s no greater gift than a love returned in equal measure.”

Jesse led Midnight into his stall. He placed the oats in the trough before removing the horse’s saddle.

“Jesse?”

He hadn’t needed to hear Maddie’s voice to know she was standing behind him. He swung the saddle onto the railing separating the stalls, then slowly turned around. Her hands were clasped before her, her eyes filled with sadness.

“Was there much damage done last night in the Turners’ barn?” she asked.

“No, and I took care of what little there was.”

“Do they still think Charles was drunk?”

“Subject didn’t come up. I didn’t offer any information. I don’t want Aaron hearing something from a friend that he should hear from family.”

She nodded, and he noticed that the knuckles on her hands were turning white.

“I love Charles.” She lowered her troubled gaze to the ground momentarily before lifting it back to his. “Last night, I was understandably upset. I needed comfort, and I took what you offered, giving little thought to the consequences or what you may have interpreted my reaction or my words to mean. I want you to understand that what happened by the creek will never happen again. Charles is my husband, and if my love for him is not as strong as it should be, my loyalty to him is unwavering. I’ve told you before that I want to make him happy. That hasn’t changed.”

Jesse watched her walk away, her mien one of bravery. She was a reluctant soldier called forth into a battle not of her choosing, yet she would stand her ground. It was strange, but he loved her all the more for the words she’d just spoken.

Charles strolled through the tall grasses. He’d left the children and Maddie by the creek. She’d suggested the outing during breakfast, making it perfectly clear that Jesse wasn’t welcome to join them. Her attitude had baffled him.

Jesse’s attitude hadn’t enlightened him, either. When he’d argued in favor of Jesse going with them, Jesse had argued vehemently against it.

Charles pulled off his hat and wiped his brow. The breeze blowing through was too warm to do much good unless a man had been sweating, and he figured Jesse’d done a fair amount of sweating. The pounding of his hammer had echoed steadily across the land most of the morning.

“How’s it going?” he asked as he neared the unfinished fence.

Jesse pounded the board into place. “Good.”

Charles rested his arms on the top railing of the fence. “You know, in ancient times, emperors generally killed a messenger if he was the bearer of bad tidings. I’m wondering if Maddie’s not holding the bad news you delivered last night against you.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You two seemed to be getting along, and now it’s like you’re avoiding each other again.”

Jesse untied the red bandanna circling his neck, dropped it in the bucket of water, and slung the wet cloth back into place. “I think it’s more likely she realizes she doesn’t have much time left with you, and she wants to make the most of it.”

Charles contemplated the clouds rolling by. “Maybe. You ever think about taking a wife?”

Jesse pounded a nail into the wood. “I’ve thought about it.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“You think you’ll ever take a wife?”

“I might.”

“When?”

“How the hell should I know? I’m not like you. I don’t take a wife just because the wind changes direction.”

“You’re thinking it to death, aren’t you?”

“Damn right! I’ve got no desire to marry a woman and wake up the next morning with the passion spent and discover I’ve made a mistake that I’ve got to live with for the rest of my life.”

Charles shook his head. “You’ll never get married.”

“I might.”

“No, you won’t.” He slapped a hand on the railing. “That’s exactly why I married Maddie.”

Jesse furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Because I know you, and I know you’ll think it through until you’re an old man, and my children would grow up never knowing what it was to have a woman around.”

“Yeah, well, did you ever stop to think that maybe you might be wrong, and I might take a wife? Then I’d have to live with two women under one roof.”

“I’m sure Maddie’d move on if you asked her to.”

Jesse pounded his seventh nail into the same piece of wood. A tornado tearing through wouldn’t be able to rip that piece of wood from that post. “That wouldn’t hardly be fair. She loves your children. They love her, too.”

“How do you feel about her?”

“Maddie?”

Charles fought back his smile. “No, the widow Parker. Yes, Maddie.”

Jesse shrugged. “Got no feelings about her one way or the other. She’s your wife—”

A cry of alarm echoed from the distant trees. Both men diverted their attention to Aaron as he ran across the field. “It’s Ma!”

Jesse vaulted over the fence and raced toward the trees. Charles figured it was a good thing Jesse didn’t have any feelings for Maddie. No telling how fast the man would have run then, and he was unable to keep pace with Jesse’s frantic strides as it was.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jesse roared.

“Just get me down,” Maddie pleaded.

“Shoulda seen her shinny up that tree, Uncle Jesse. She was just fine till she looked down.”

Breathless, Charles ran into the clearing. Jesse spun around and pointed an accusing finger toward the top of the giant oak tree. “Do you see your wife?”

Charles squinted against the sun filtering in through the abundant leaves. “What’s she doing up there?”

“She was hanging the rope.” Aaron grabbed onto the knotted rope dangling from the tree. “We’re gonna use it to swing out into the creek, but then she went and got scared.”

With a look of disgust, Jesse shook his head. “She’s your wife. You get her down.”

“You’re stronger than I am. Why don’t you shinny up there and hand her down to me?”

Cursing, Jesse dropped to the ground and tugged off his boots. Aaron hunkered beside him. “Want me to tell you which branches are the best ones to use?”

Jesse gave him an icy stare. “I know how to climb a tree.”

“I didn’t know. Pa said you was born fully growed, that you never was a boy. I didn’t know fully growed men climbed trees.”

Jesse looked at Charles. “I was not born fully grown.”

Charles placed his hand on Aaron’s shoulder and pulled him back. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. I simply meant you’ve always handled responsibility well.”

Jesse unfolded his body and glared at the woman wrapped lengthwise around a thick branch. He folded his arms across his chest. “You know? I haven’t tasted a sponge cake in a good long while. Reckon there’s anyone around here that’ll make me one?”

“I will!”

“Me!”

He looked at the two expectant faces and all his irritation melted away. He chucked each girl under the chin. “Soon as I get your ma down.”

He swung onto the lowest branch of the tree. Then he reached for the one above it and pulled himself up. He couldn’t imagine how Maddie had climbed so far up into the tree. He felt the coarse bark scrape his arms, hands, and feet. Maybe in gratitude, she’d work ointment into his cuts. He shook the thought away. She’d made her position perfectly clear that morning. Now it was his turn to be indifferent.

But once he reached the tree branch and straddled it, pressing his back against the bark and watching her prone figure, he knew he could no more be indifferent toward her than he could make the waters of the creek stop flowing.

Bending low at the waist and reaching out, he worked his arm between her flat stomach and the rough bough of the tree. He tugged slightly. She didn’t budge.

“You’re going to have to let go, Maddie.”

“I can’t.”

“I won’t let you fall.”

“Just move like you’re a caterpillar crawling backwards!” Aaron yelled to the treetops.

Jesse tightened his hold on her. “Trust me.”

“It’s not a matter of trust, you bleedin’ idiot. It’s a matter of fear!”

He sighed. “If fear brings out your accent as well, how will I ever know if you’re mad at me or afraid of me?”

“I’ve never been afraid of you.”

He wished he could see more than the back of her head, wished he could look into her eyes. “Never?” he asked quietly.

“Never you, but the things you believe in.”

“I don’t believe in anything that should frighten you.”

She heaved a deep sigh. “For you, everything, everyone is either good or bad. You don’t understand that sometimes good people do bad things, bad people do good things.” Forcing open an eye, she glanced back at him. “Have you ever done something bad, something you were ashamed of, something that if you could do over you’d do differently?”

For long moments, perched out on the tree branch, she studied him. She closed her eyes. “You haven’t.”

Her words made him feel as though his character possessed shortcomings. He scooted along the tree branch until his hips were pressed against hers.

“Keep your eyes closed and relax your hands,” he said quietly. With his arm still beneath her waist, he slowly brought her up until their bodies were pressed together, her back against his bare chest, her backside nestled between his thighs. She shifted her hips, and he groaned. “Don’t squirm.”

“I was going to fall.”

“You weren’t going to fall. I won’t let you fall. Now we’re going to swing your leg over to the left.” He slipped his hand beneath her thigh, guiding her leg over the branch, turning her hips until her side was pressed against his chest. “Now wrap your hands around my hand.”

She did, and he closed his hand around hers, holding tightly.

“You’re going to stand on my foot, then I’m going to lower you down to Charles. You might have a little fall, but he ought to break most of the impact.”

Slipping his other arm beneath her arms, he eased her off the limb until her bare foot touched his.

Maddie felt the ball of her foot rub across the top of his foot, creating a sensation more intimate than pressing her back against his chest. An image of this man in bed, her foot seeking out his, came into her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut. She never sought out Charles’s bare feet in the middle of the night.

Her foot left his as he removed his hand from beneath her arms and lowered her farther. She dangled in the air.

“Let go, Maddie. I’ll catch you!” Charles yelled.

She took a deep breath, tensed her body, and screamed as Jesse’s fingers slipped away from hers. She felt Charles’s arms go around her just before they both plummeted to the ground.

Charles laughed as he rolled her off him. “You can open your eyes now.”

She did and smiled at the concerned faces surrounding her.