Orphan Moon (The Orphan Moon Trilogy Book 1) (40 page)

He swam to the side of the pool, placing Barleigh on the ledge. She lay still and quiet, steam rising off her body. Hughes eased next to her, rubbing her back, massaging her shoulders, waiting until she was ready to speak.

Long moments passed before Barleigh sat up, dangling her feet in the water. “I feel like I’ve purged something poisonous from my body. I feel better. Thank you.”

“I’m glad,” he said, relieved to see the relaxed expression on her face.

“To dwell on the past can’t help me now. It’s done. But for the present, I’m starved. I hope you brought one of your fancy picnics with you.”

They sat on the edge of the pool, sipping wine and eating dried fruit from what Hughes confiscated from the kitchen. His standard fine embroidered linens and engraved pewter plates with matching goblets made Barleigh smile.
 

“As for the future, I’ve decided to go back to Texas. I have a baby sister who needs me. Who knows better than I do what a child needs who doesn’t have a mother to raise it?”

“What about us, Barleigh? Do I fit into your future?” he asked, feeling a mixture of relief and uncertainty.
 

“You said you were leaving for California. I thought you didn’t want to worry about anyone but yourself. Especially not about me.” Barleigh hesitated, then looked up into his eyes. “Do you want to fit into my future?”

“God. More than anything, if you’ll let me.”

Hughes lowered himself into the pool, taking Barleigh by the hand, easing her into the warm water. He sat her on the ledge that lay just below the surface. “I want the luxury of worrying about you. I’ll hang up my badge forever. I’ll walk away from everything to fit into your future.”

“My future’s not going to be very exciting, raising my baby sister and rebuilding the ranch. Your life is so thrilling, so—”

“All the thrill I need is seeing you wake up next to me every morning.” He took her face in his hands and drew her to him, kissing her mouth, relieved to find it willing, seeking him, wanting him.

Her kisses were hungry, her arms and hands and fingers excited and eager to touch, to feel, to explore, to be explored. She wanted more. Standing on the ledge, she unfastened her long johns, peeled them down, and stepped out of them.
 

Hughes sucked in his breath, his eyes feasting on her wet, naked body. “My God, you’re beautiful.” He stepped out of his long johns, tossing them out of the pool. Reaching out for her, holding onto her, he lowered her into the water.

“Hughes—” Barleigh wrapped her legs around him, entwining her arms around his neck, letting him kiss her wherever he wanted, giving her body to him.

“Barleigh,” he groaned, kissing and tasting every inch of her exposed body that was above the water’s surface, his hands exploring the rest.

She whispered against his ear, kissing the words, caressing each one into place with her lips. “I want you to make love to me.”

Hughes was sure of what he wanted—his body was sure.
 

“Your strength,” he said, kissing her, “and your beauty,” he tasted her mouth again, “shatters me. Your eyes take me apart and put me back together, a better version than before.” He brushed his lips across hers, then kissed her again, long and deep and slow, cupping her face in his hands. “From the first time I saw you, I knew you could turn my world upside down and I’d stand on my head gladly.”

“You’ve set my world spinning back on its axis.” She traced her lips down from his mouth, over his chin, kissing the small dip at the base of his neck.
 

“Have you ever—? Are you a—?”

“No, I’ve never—. Yes, I’m a—.”
 

“Marry me. Tomorrow. I can’t take something from you that you can never get back. If you won’t marry me, then no, I won’t make love to you.” He kissed her again, his body hot and wanting hers.
 

“It’s not just a ‘want.’ I’ve discovered what I need. I knew the first time I met you there was something different, something special about you, though many times I pushed you away. Not anymore. Make love to me.”
 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs tighter around his waist, pulling him to her, kissing him, tasting the wine on his mouth. The hot mineral water sloshed around them, over their heads, out of the pool and onto the granite floor as they twirled and splashed, their bodies entangling, clinging to one another.
 

Hughes held back, letting Barleigh move at her own pace. Steam rose off the surface of the water, off of their bodies. Barleigh, clutching and gasping, screamed out Hughes’s name while the winds howling through the canyons called out to spirits and ghosts.

The fire played out. Shadows faded. Snow drifted into the cave from the crevasse above and melted on the warm floor. Hughes lifted Barleigh from the edge of the steaming pool and lowered her onto the blanket. He covered her with his coat before checking on the horses and giving them another handful of oats and warmed water from the melted snow.

When he returned, she was sitting up. “How can I marry you? People think I’m a boy.”

“Not everyone.”

“What do you mean?”
 

“I spilled the beans. I’m sorry. It slipped out. If Mario had any suspicions, I erased all doubt.” Hughes offered an apologetic smile.
 

“He can be the preacher. He used to be one, anyway, before hiring on with the Express, but not everyone knows. He felt private about that.” Barleigh yawned and stretched, then sighed a deep sigh of relief.

“I guess that means you’re going to marry me.” Hughes looked down at her, waiting for an answer, but she was fast asleep.

*****

A jolt startled Barleigh from her dreams. She sat up straight. “Hughes?”

“I’m here. Nightmare?” He moved her off his arm, which had fallen asleep.

“Sorry, I made a drool puddle.” She wiped away the shallow pool of drool on his chest. “Ouch—what happened here?” She touched his forehead with her fingertips, a fleeting panic seizing her, wondering if it was something she’d done in the heat of delirious passion.

“I ran into a lamp. Sort of. It knocked some sense into me, though. Made me realize how much I worry about you. That it’s a luxury I look forward to, and . . . that I love you.”

Barleigh shifted onto her elbow, propping her head in her hand. “I’m sorry—I just now noticed it. I woke up with this thought, and I had to share it.”

“Are you ignoring that I said I love you?”

“Yes and no. I’ll have to get used to that word. Is that all right?”

“Yes. And, if I wake up every morning with you drooling on my chest, everything’ll be all right.” Hughes yawned, then said, “So, what’s the thought you have to share?”

“It couldn’t have been Quanah that raided our ranch. Papa said he saw warriors watching from the ridge days before Birdie gave birth. Quanah was in San Antonio on those days, according to your encounter with him.”

“That’s right,” Hughes said. “He was.”

“The night of our raid, he would have had to have traveled hundreds of miles to have been present for that event. Even if he was there the night of the actual raid, that Friday night the wheels were already in motion. It would have happened anyway, with or without Quanah.”

“You could be right,” he said, considering the possibilities.

“Either way, you’re not responsible. Please don’t let that eat away at you. Leave those guilty feelings here in the cave, too.”

Hughes took her in his arms, his tender kiss growing more passionate, urgent, and deep. “I love you, Barleigh Flanders. You’ll have to get used to hearing that. What did you mean, earlier, that you’ve discovered what you need?”

“A conversation with Miss Maeve. She told me to keep looking until I found what I needed in life. I’ve found it.” Barleigh felt a rush of happiness, of peace, lying in his arms.

“That makes me a happy man. What else did Maeve tell you?”

Barleigh blushed. The memory of that day’s conversation brought a flush to her skin. She’d learned that there were many different ways a man and a woman can find intimate pleasure with each other’s bodies.
 

“I had lots of questions for Miss Maeve, and she was generous with her answers,” Barleigh said, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“Remind me to send her a generous tip and a thank you when we get back.”

“One day soon, we can explore those ways, but right now I want you to make love to me again.” She pressed her body against his. Her urgent kisses, fingers caressing him, stroking him, teasing him, gave him all the encouragement needed.

He took her, took what she offered. This time, his hunger for her body consumed him, the urge to please her again driving him wild. What he’d denied himself the first time he’d made love to her in the pool, he would not, could not, deny himself now. Holding nothing back, when he felt the moment of Barleigh’s pleasure, he let loose of his passion with a scorching wave, sending heat pulsing through both of them.

“My God, woman.” He wrapped Barleigh in his arms as she lay on his chest. “That could send a weaker man to his death. And it wouldn’t be a shameful way to die.”

Wrapped in each other’s arms, they lay in the darkness of the cave, breathing each other’s breath, face to face, lips brushing, eyelashes tickling. Outside, the snow had stopped, clouds opened to the darkness behind them, and stars took their rightful place in the velvet sky.

*****

Barleigh awoke to the whispered words “I love you” spoken softly against her ear, Hughes’s hand stroking her hair.
 

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

“I’ve been watching you sleep, and I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh. Snoring again? Mama Grizzly in her cave?”

He laughed. “No—no snoring. I’ve heard it said that love grounds us. I disagree. I say love uproots us. Loving you has caused me to want to change things about myself, to be more like who I know my true self to be. What do you think?”
 

What did she think? Barleigh rolled over, resting her head against Hughes’s chest, listening to the sound of his heart thumping, the sound of water dripping down the walls of the cave, to the horses moving about, to the sound of her own breath and pulse combined with his.
 

“I think with love, uncertainty is guaranteed—that love offers no guarantees. That’s what makes it valuable, what makes it worth taking a risk at any cost. I’m just afraid.”

“Love
is
worth the risk. But, what are you afraid of?” he asked, kissing the tips of her fingers.

“That the people I give my heart to, the people I love, all die before I’m ready to let go,” she said softly, not wanting to give power to the words or the thought.
 

“Cashing in your fear and letting go of your heart is the high cost of hope, my dear. Hope is what fuels the fire of love. Are you willing to cash in your fears, and let go of your heart?”
 

Barleigh glanced at the man she lay with, felt his arms holding her close, and she considered this question and all that it meant—the things that she feared, what she might lose if she let go of her heart, what she might gain if she did.
 

“I am. And I’m never looking back.”
 

*****

A notice in the
Salt Lake City Deseret News
, the
San Antonio Sentinel
, and the
New Orleans Tribunal
read:

Hughes Pierce Lévesque of New Orleans, Louisiana and San Antonio, Texas, and Miss Barleigh Alexandria Henrietta Flanders of Palo Pinto, Texas and Salt Lake City, Utah Territory, were married in holy matrimony on Thursday, November 28th, 1860. Officiating was Reverend Mario Russo of the Central Overland California and Pikes Peak Express Company. The bride wore a white lace gown with beaded pearl accents, and surprised her guests with a display of Western boots and spurs as her footwear of choice. In lieu of a bridal veil, she wore a bright yellow Mexican sombrero trimmed in gold and black accents. Official reception to follow at the Menger Hotel, San Antonio, Texas. Details to follow.

“Get your riding gear ready—I’ve got to get you to Texas” were Hughes’s first words for his bride, after the “I dos” had been said.

*****

The stagecoach pulled into San Antonio, Texas, at noon on New Year’s Eve, the town decorated in festive holiday colors. Barleigh pulled the telegram from her reticule, the small decorated bag a Christmas gift from Hughes when they’d stopped overnight in the township of Dallas. She held the fragile paper that was torn at the creases from the wear and tear of folding and unfolding it.
 

She looked up at Hughes, feeling the weight of his stare. “I just want to read it again,” she said, casting her eyes down at the telegram.

Trying to keep the anxiety that had been haunting her from building, she concentrated on each word. Her mother’s condition had worsened, Jameson’s telegram had said, and time was of the essence if they wished to make a reunion possible. The telegram was almost fifteen days old.
 

Having said their good-byes to Mario after he performed the quick nuptials in Salt Lake City, Hughes had sent three telegrams, one to Jameson, one to Winnifred Justin, and one to Leighselle. He’d asked all three to respond as soon as possible, and to send their replies to the office in Saint Joseph, Missouri, where he and Barleigh would be catching a stagecoach for San Antonio.

“If Leighselle still doesn’t want to see you, and I can’t imagine her
not
wanting to, after I tell her our news, then, we’ll have to accept her decision,” he’d said. “But I’m going to do my damnedest to see that you and your mother are reunited.”

After one last night at the Salt Lake House Hotel, Barleigh sleeping in the room on the other side of the wall from the room reserved for Express riders, they made a final stop at the Mercantile. While Barleigh purchased supplies, Hughes arranged for a gift to be delivered to Mario Russo, the signature card reading, “I hope these woolies will keep your toes warm for many winters to come.” Then, off they went, riding hard for Saint Joe. They changed ponies at the express stations, retracing backward Barleigh’s and Stoney’s first ride into Utah Territory.