But the suggestion might frighten her, this first time at least. For now, he was almost giddy, thinking how snug he'd fit inside her tight maidenhood, swelling until he released deep within her. Hell, he swelled almost to bursting now.
He couldn't stop to dry himself. Waiting even one more second was out of the question. Pulling her to him with his right hand, he unbuttoned her night dress with the other.
“You could have had me any time at all.” He breathed into her hair. “And there's so much I want you to learn.”
“Well, I think this is the right time,” she said, “and I want to learn as much as I can in whatever time we have.”
“I should check Silly.”
“I just did. She's sleeping peaceful. You'd just make a commotion and wake her up.”
“The kids?”
“The thunder scared them. They're sleeping behind the bedroom's closed door.” Minda said the last two words with a slow meaningful smile.
“Then where? Us, I mean?”
“That bedroll over there. Like the first time.” Her finger pointed eagerly, but her eyes looked away, shy.
“But I wanted the first time outside, under the stars.” He touched her cheek, soft as silk.
“Well, sometimes you make do with what you have. For as long as you're lucky to have it.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Like a starving man, he suckled her breasts for a moment, then picked her up like a groom carrying a bride over a threshold. He laid her on the bedroll in the corner, snug at his side, letting his fingers glide up her leg. His free hand rested under head, her hair a counterpane of bliss, and turned her face to his. Nibbling her lips, he started a tender exploration there, then traveled to the miracle of her bosom. He licked and tugged with starvation, tensing at her groans.
“Now don't you get frightened, Minda. This helps ease the first time.” He slid a finger in her core, shuddering as her body trembled. He could wait long enough to drive her to pleasure, so he quickly settled himself on his knees between her thighs. While his fingers resumed their teasing, he lowered his tongue to her.
It didn't take as long as he thought, lucky for him, and he had the joy of watching her face the whole time. And finally, when her legs tensed around his neck, he knew it was time.
Time to go home.
* * * *
Minda's mind swirled with a thousand colors and her body felt blessed by a higher power she'd never imagined. The intimate touch of his fingers deep inside her, and his tongue mastering her so deliciously, forced her eyes to close in shyness.
“No, darlin'. Look at me.” He raised his face to her own, resting on his elbows, close enough for her to see the magic and passion in his gaze. “Hold on. Hold me.”
Needing air, she grasped his head. The manly scent of his hair claimed her senses as the colors faded and her knees relaxed. Then the warm weight of him pressed over her body. He lowered his face to kiss her hungrily, and she tasted herself on his lips. Her chest heaved at the intimacy of his actions as her husband, her first lover, began his journey to claim her body and her soul.
He slid back to her breasts, and they suddenly tightened, aching with a fullness she didn't recognize. Pleasure so delicious it almost hurt washed over from top to toe.
“Ah, Minda, what you do to me,” he mumbled, his breath heating the skin of her belly. Fumbling for her hand, he wrapped her fingers about his throbbing shaft. In the lantern light, she stole a peek.
“Oh my goodness,” she whispered, awestruck at the sight. Even as she ached for him, her wonder grew. “I don't know...”
Brixton gasped out his words. “Ah, it'll be fine.”
His fingers reached for her core again, igniting fire and need. Suddenly she had no doubts at all. She wanted him. She needed to be complete with him, to have him fill her emptiness. It wouldn't be forever, but it would have to be enough. If all they had was tonight, she wanted every single second he could give her.
“Brixton, I...” She turned shy again. “Yes, everything will be fine.”
He moved between her legs, a hand gentle but firm on each breast. “Spread wider, darlin.'”
As she did, he pressed his manhood into her, patient at first, then with increasing pressure. She was untouched, but desperate to please him in spite of the twinge of pain. She relaxed, and they were joined, true man and wife. His rhythmic thrusts matched the pounding of her heart.
Then he shuddered and tensed, eyes shut tight, as he lay across her. His endless moans let her know she'd pleased him. His harsh breath landed hot on her shoulder, and he kissed her without a word. Turning, he held her backside against his front, and his gentle snores started almost at once.
She could hardly bear the rough bedroll against her sensitive skin, but his warmth and embrace comforted her. Goodness, she was a married woman in every sense of the word.
It might not be exactly what she came to Paradise for, but tonight it would be enough.
Finally, Minda drifted into sleep. But not for long. The length of him that nestled against her back grew hard and woke her, and her husband drew her to him again.
* * * *
Sunlight blessed her face, but Minda kept her eyes shut tight. The bedroll soft under her bare skin, she remembered her husband's warmth, his callused hands that felt like velvet as they learned the secrets of her body and taught her the mysteries of his.
She relived his trembles when her own hand had closed around his manhood, the wonderful weight of him atop her again and again.
She sighed dreamily. He had filled her every way a woman can be filled, and she had enjoyed every minute of it, even the brisk discomfort of the first joining.
Shyly, she turned to hold him close as she'd done before they finally slept in the summer darkness. But she opened her eyes to find herself on the bedroll alone, covered with the old dressing gown.
She knew why, and the distress slammed into her heart like the storm just passed.
He'd left.
Of course. She understood now. Last night's lovemaking had been the farewell kiss he'd promised, with something more.
She swallowed hard, but couldn't let her heart break. Not when she reminded herself that he'd never offered to stay. She was the one who had foolishly contented herself, thinking his blossoming rapport with the children would expand to something permanent. All he'd vowed was to care for them in a monetary sense, and the cattle trail was the only livelihood he had.
It was her own fault for losing her heart. She'd tried to guard against this very thing, but at her first sight of him, it hadn't been possible. She knew that now.
The little locket watch her mama had left her was in the bedroom, but she'd gotten good these past few days about telling time from the sun's station in the sky. When it was out, that is. This morning, the rain clouds were gone, other than the ones dampening her disposition.
Between eight and nine o'clock, she figured. They'd missed church, and she tightened her eyelids with more hopelessness. Missing services in Gleesburg had always incurred gossip, but out here, folks might believe her responsible for preventing the innocent Haynes children from righteous worship. Those wanting to take the children might feel justified in resuming their pursuits.
Scrambling into the dressing gown, she gathered the bedroll in her arms, up to her nose, breathing in the scent their lovemaking had left behind. She'd find time to cry later. Right now she had children to feed.
The bedroom door opened as she wound up the bedroll. Of course he'd left it behind. He likely had another one back in Texas. Maybe this one was Norman Dale's anyway. Borrowing off his brother had been Brixton's way in Paradise, after his long travels with a light load. The wedding suit, the horse he planned to ride to the train depot in Columbus. Strawberry would wait there at the livery until a stablehand could bring him home.
“So did you and Uncle Brix sleep out here on his bedroll?” Neddie asked, arms clamped around his homemade dog.
“Of course, you ninny,” Katie said, in the same big-sister way the oldest of her three had always used. “We were in their bed, remember?”
Their bed. The words hurt.
Priscilla sat in her little bed, clapping her hands and mouthing an unintelligible word.
“That's her word for hungry.” Katie placed her hands firmly on her hips.
Despite her heavy heart, Minda rejoiced at Priscilla's health. At least she had something good this day. Maybe Brixton had hugged the children good-bye while they slept. Katie wasn't extolling about the whirligig firefly though. Had he stashed it somewhere like a treasure hunt, reckoning she'd find it somehow?
Or did that mean he hadn't gone?
A girlish hope trilled in her heart, the same one as when she'd purchased her wedding dress, as when she'd first caught sight of Paradise from the stagecoach.
But that had merely led to her strange marriage to a man who had no desire to remain at her side.
“Well, now, you two dress yourselves, and I'll do the same.” She held back the trembles from her voice. After all, she had things to do.
“Mom ... Minda,” Katie shouted from the sleeping area, “look what I found on my bed!”
“And me, too. A whistle!”
Even at the children's joy, her spirits fell. He had presented his gifts after all before taking off. When had he made the whistle? He'd claimed to be a fast whittler, and obviously that had taken precedence over one last hour in her bed.
Her sadness was almost complete. But it didn't include regret. Whether he was close by or a thousand miles away, Brixton Haynes was still her husband. And he would come for visits now and again, wouldn't he? To see the children, at least?
She set to her toilette and Priscilla's, then sliced stale bread, leftover from the wedding feast. Lord's day or not, there'd be no rest for her today, not with baking to do.
And Brixton's pile of sopping clothes. However, a quick peek in the corner and she noticed it was gone. Her mood gladdened as she recalled the morning he'd laundered up after Priscilla.
But she could see the clothesline outside, and nothing hung on it now.
Fully dressed, Katie came to the kitchen workspace, her shining eyes belying the fear and sleeplessness of the night. The firefly's wooden wings spun in flight. Minda had given her a piece of the grosgrain ribbon meant for the pink velvet hat, and it was tied in a jaunty bow at the end of Katie's beloved braid.
Ned followed, needing sleep dust washed from his eyes, but his short trousers hung straight. In his hands, he held his toy dog and whistle.
“Now we got something from you and Uncle Brix,” he announced cheerfully. “My doggie from you and my whistle from him. And Katie's bug and the hat you're making her.”
“Can I see it?” Katie asked. “Did you work on it last night?”
Nodding, Minda walked to the sewing basket by the upholstered wing chair. “Yes, indeed I did. I waited up for Uncle Brix, and it gave me something pleasant to do. Come, have a look.”
She took the bonnet and set it on Katie's head. It wasn't finished yet, but Katie beamed, although the twinge of worry Minda often saw in her eyes was once again apparent.
“He got back fine, right? And the horses, too?”
“Yes, thank God.”
“He sure was riled up.”
Minda sighed with a head shake. “Yes, and I am positive I locked the barn. But everything turned out well.” Unbidden, images of their lovemaking flooded her. She managed to hold back the pain of his leaving. “But never mind that. Let me get some breakfast down you children.”
“What does Silly get?” Neddie asked, holding his toys just out of his baby sister's reach.
“Well, see those strips of velvet? I don't need them, so I'll stitch them up and stuff it full of cotton wool and make her a ball.”
“And Uncle Brix?”
Fortunately, Katie interrupted that chain of discussion. “Will my hat be done by next Sunday? I will be the prettiest girl in Sunday School.”
Minda laughed. “Now, Katie, it's far better to be kind and smart.”
“Mr. Hackett says that very thing. But I still want my pretty hat.”
“Mr. Hackett?” Minda's sadness stirred a bit. Her husband had wanted to stake a claim on her then.
“Oh, he and Miss Gracey teach us a Bible story on Sundays after the reverend finishes up with church.”
“Do you attend, too, Ned?”
But the little boy seemed fretful for a second, and she did not persist. Then she saw that of the ribbons forming the dog's legs was loose, so she tied it with a smile.
Without being asked, the ever-efficient Katie began to set the table. “Here, you'll sit right next to Uncle Brix,” she said happily, situating two plates and chairs close together.
“I think ... I don't think he'll be around for breakfast,” Minda said gently, wondering how she could explain the circumstance that lay so heavy in her heart and mind. It didn't seem fair at all, youngsters like this losing both men in their lives so close together.
“'Course he will.” Katie nodded, her cheeks bright. “A man needs a hearty meal, Papa used to say. I saw Uncle Brix heading toward the field on my way to the privy at sunup. He'll be hungry by this time.”
He was here? He'd stayed on? What had changed his mind?
Minda could barely breathe. It could either be a dream of love come true, or a nightmare of resentment.
“I'll go get him and blow my whistle,” Neddie said, his little face covered with smiles now.
Minda made up her mind then and there. Brix had changed her life's plans. She deserved to know his. But her stomach both churned with dread and fluttered with butterflies.
“No, I'll get him this morning. Here's a nice scrambled egg for Priscilla. Would you mind feeding her, Katie? Then you two enjoy your breakfast. I won't be gone long.”
“What's these?” Ned's eyes widened with interest at the full plate Minda set before him. She'd carved a circle in the bread slices and fried an egg inside.
“My mama called them God's eyes. Fitting for the Lord's day, don't you think?”
Nodding as he chewed, he wiped his face on his sleeve.
Oh well. She had washing to do later anyway.
But right now, she had a husband to find.