Authors: Phoebe Conn
"No, it's not remarkable, only shocking!" she responded bitterly. The sketches were a fine example of his extraordinary talent, for he'd selected the most graceful of classical poses to complement the perfection of her figure. She knew the drawings were pretty rather than obscene, but she hated them nonetheless and slammed the book shut. She would have thrown it at him had he not been standing so close. "Here! Since these please you then by all means keep them, but I don't want to see them ever again!" She was near tears, so outraged was she by what he'd done. She yanked Clayton's ring from her finger, flung it upon the dresser, and turned her back on him.
Jason opened the top drawer and slipped his sketch book inside before picking up the gold ring. "What's this supposed to mean?"
"When you have not forgotten the smallest detail of my flgure, it is amazing you'd forget so important an item as buying me a ring!" Gabrielle was shaking with rage. She knew she shouldn't have said that to him, but she couldn't help herself when his oversight had hurt her so deeply.
Jason longed to put his arms around his bride, to draw her near and cover her sweet face with kisses, but discouraged by her continual refusal to accept any of his explanations as the truth, he turned away. He did not stop to consider the fact that most of his excuses bore little relationship to the truth since that struck him as unimportant. He wanted her to accept his words simply because he spoke them. He walked back to the small table, sat down in one of the chairs, and tossed down his champagne in one gulp. "You're right. I should have had a ring for you. It will be the first thing we'll buy in the morning. Now, come sit down and help me think as I don't want to forget
anything else when we go shopping/'
Cabrielle wheeled around to face him, furious still, "That's all I am? Just another item on your list of necessities for your farm. One wife. Where did you have my name written, somewhere between the butter churn and the new plow?"
"I had forgotten the churn since I don't own a cow," Jason remarked, his glance reflecting the fury in her deep blue gaze. "Now, come and sit down!" he poured himself another glass of champagne and finished it as quickly as the first, but the warmth with which the wine filled his muscular body did little to improve his mood.
"Oh!" Cabrielle screamed in frustation, but she crossed the room in three swift strides and sat down to face him. "Just what are you planning to do, Jason? You might have helped your father, but you've never been solely responsible for running a farm yourself. I've lived my whole life in town. I don't know the first thing about being a farmer's bride. I thought I'd marry a man who'd be able to teach me what I'd need to know, but since I didn't, what are we going to do?"
The many reasons Jason had recited to himself for not needing a bride swiftly flooded his mind, but he forced them away since they were no longer relevant. He had married Cabrielle, and now he had to make some kind of a home for her no matter how ill prepared he was to do it. He got up to get a sheet of paper, a pen, and ink to begin making their list. Sitting down again, he tried to reassure her things were not so dire as she seemed to believe. "I left home at fourteen, Cabrielle, so there is little I haven't done when it comes to the running of a farm. The hardest work is in the spring when the ground has to be prepared and the crops sewn. Our only challenge now will be to make my house livable and to take care of ourselves for the winter. I doubt either of those tasks will be beyond our capabilities."
As always, Jason radiated confidence and Cabrielle did not doubt he would surmount each obstacle in their path, but she had never felt so inadequate. "You plan to be a farmer now, is
that it? You'll no longer guide wagon trains to Oregon?" That she'd not even thought to ask him that question when he'd proposed filled her with dismay.
Jason shrugged. "I'll do whatever I must to keep a roof over our heads, but let's worry about next spring when it comes, Gabrielle, not before. It is not essential that we buy everything tomorrow. We can come back into town several times if need be. I know you'll want to attend your friends' weddings so that will give us the opportunity to stock up on anything we've forgotten."
Gabrielle took a small sip of her champagne and then another. She doubted this was the way a wedding night was supposed to begin, but it was only late afternoon and she had hopes Jason's mood would become more romantic. "We'll need chickens to have eggs, and feed for them," she suggested absently, her interest clearly not in their task but in her new husband.
Jason began to print the items they decided they'd need. Finally, he felt they had a comprehensive list prepared. When their supper arrived at seven, he was amazed that they'd spent so much time talking about provisions. The waiter was even more surprised to find a honeymoon couple engaged in such a mundane activity. The young man produced a white linen cloth for their table and, after serving their plates, left promptly, deciding discretion was called for even though he could detect no evidence to justify the need for such diplomatic behavior.
Gabrielle found the poached salmon very tasty, but she had little appetite. She'd not thought being alone with Jason would prove to be so awkward. She felt every bit as self-conscious as she would have had she wed a total stranger. He had very fine manners, and as always, she found him so attractive he was a delight simply to observe. Still, she wanted so much more from him than he seemed to think it necessary to give that she had difficulty hiding her growing depression. She had known it wouldn't be easy to win his love when she'd accepted his
proposal, but she'd not realized how much pain the aching emptiness of his promises would cause. She reminded herself she'd have to be patient, but that did not ease the hurt his indifference continued to cause. She wanted him to speak of love on their wedding night, but he seemed to have no interest in doing so. Instead, he spoke at length about the prosperity he knew it was possible to achieve from farming with conscientious effort.
Jason found Gabrielle's melancholy gaze increasingly discomforting. Clay's note had admonished him to respect her youth and innocence, but she'd never seemed naive in her views, nor was she as innocent as his partner believed. He was sorry now that he'd not just taken her home, where they could have been completely alone. She'd always been so affectionate when they'd been together, but he knew the atmosphere of the small hotel room did little to create a romantic mood. He was as ill at ease as she, and that was no way to begin a marriage. However, he could think of nothing to do or say to lift her spirits. He was certain she was thinking of Beau. Surely he was the man she'd meant when she'd said she'd planned to marry a farmer who would be able to teach her what was required of his wife. Beau was the husband she'd hoped to have, but Jason dared not mention the man's name when he knew her response would be a most furious one. As time passed, she replied to all his attempts at conversation with no more than one-word replies, and finally he gave up his efforts to amuse her and became as silent as she.
After the red glow cast by the setting sun had faded away, Jason got up to light the two small lamps the hotel had provided, but rather than creating an intimate warmth while they dined, they merely threw eerie shadows upon the walls. He finished his supper as slowly as possible in an attempt to allow himself sufficient time to devise some clever means to charm Gabrielle. Unfortunately no idea of any merit occurred to him. She was still sitting opposite him, waiting for him to devour every morsel on his plate, her food all but untouched.
Her glance was rather curious now, but he remembered the soft glow passion lent to her bright blue eyes too fondly to be satisfied with anything less. When she spoke to him, he was startled by the sound of her voice, for she'd been unnaturally quiet all afternoon.
"This has been a remarkable day, Jason. It began with me trying to explain to Michael why marriage was out of the question for me and now I find myself dining with my husband. I am sorry I have been such poor company for you, but surely tomorrow will not prove to be so confusing.''
No longer able to hide his own apprehension, Jason suddenly blurted out the truth. "I can make no promises about tomorrow when my mind is so preoccupied with tonight!"
Gabrielle tried not to laugh, but she could not help herself now that he'd admitted he was as nervous as she. She rose quickly from her chair and, seeing he'd not a scrap left on his plate, sat down upon his lap and put her arms around his neck, hugging him warmly. "I think you're right, we've spent far too little time together. All we need for a successful marriage is the chance to grow comfortable in each other's company."
Jason put his arms around Gabrielle's tiny waist to hold her captive upon his knee as he began to nuzzle the silken skin of her throat with affectionate nibbles. "You already know all a farmer's wife truly must, my pet. Don't worry that you'll ever fail to please me."
Gabrielle closed her eyes as she snuggled against him. She wound her fingers in his dark curls and ceased to concern herself with her lack of housekeeping skills, so dehghted was she to be in his arms. She found his kiss delicious and was sorry she'd become so angry over his sketches because the disagreement had depressed them both deeply. Perhaps they would have spent the late afternoon in a far more interesting fashion if she'd kept still about what she'd found. He'd offered to forgive her for having a terrible temper, but could she forgive herself for having that fault when it caused them both such needless pain?
Jason had saved the last of the champagne and when he poured them each a glass Gabrielle drank hers, toasting his health with a lilting laugh. Then he lifted her into his arms to carry her the short distance to the bed. When he could not seem to unfasten the small pearl buttons on her blouse, she pushed his hands away and did it herself. "Since this outfit constitutes my wedding dress, Vd like to preserve it if I may."
Jason leaned back to watch her disrobe, his pleasure undiminished for he'd never known a woman who could remove her clothes with the slow, sensuous grace Gabrielle always displayed. She rose from the bed to lay her garments aside, seemingly unaware of the beauty in her fluid motions, but he savored it with a wide smile he made no effort to suppress. Thinking that she'd be his forever was a delightful prospect. He'd spent many years relishing the pleasures of life whenever he could, but Gabrielle would share his bed until his last night on earth and he now felt having a wife was the only sensible way for a man to live.
Gabrielle turned and, finding Jason doing no more than observing her with a satisfied grin, asked pointedly, "Do you plan to sleep in that suit? If not, may I suggest you hang it in the wardrobe where it will not become wrinkled because if I must undress you myself I'll simply toss your clothing upon the floor. And if you object to the way it looks in the morning, you'll have to press it yourself."
"That's hardly fair," Jason observed slyly.
"It's your choice." Gabrielle was still clad in her chemise. She saw no reason to don her nightgown when she knew how quickly Jason would remove it.
"I don't care how these clothes look in the morning. Come here." Jason held out his hand and when Gabrielle put her fingertips in his he drew her back upon the bed, his lips too hungry for hers to debate the state of his attire another second. She returned his ardent kiss, but then began to tickle his ribs as she reached for the buttons on his shirt. Her touch was light, teasing, and he soon had to give up the pretense that he could
ignore her enticing charms. He pushed her away with a playful shove and, standing up, removed his apparel with such haste she had time to draw no more than one breath before he rejoined her upon the comfortable bed.
Gabrielle whispered softly as she drew him near, "I am so sorry for becoming angry with you. I do not mean to yell when rd much rather do this." Her tongue traced the shape of his lips with a tantalizing caress before she deepened her kiss. She adored her husband and needed little in the way of encouragement to show him the extent of her affection. Her fingertips moved lightly down his spine and over his slender hips as she pressed his body closer to her own. His skin was so warm, his sleek form superb. She let the touch of her hands convey the same erotic message which filled her kiss. She wanted him, badly, her need too compelling to be construed as anything other than a deep hunger for his love.
Jason was captivated by the lissome beauty in his embrace. Again she was the irresistible vixen whose fiery passions he longed to ignite. He gave no verbal response to her apology but wound his fingers in her deep red tresses to hold her still so he could enjoy her teasing kiss before responding with a demanding intensity. Sensing his urgency, Gabrielle slipped off her chemise and lay back in his arms, nearly purring with pleasure as his lips strayed lower to caress the flushed peak of her breast. As always he treated her most tenderly, cherishing the gift of her affection, but he did not trust himself to pay her any coherent compliments. So he spoke none of the pretty phrases which would have pleased her as greatly as his tantalizing touch. He wanted only to lift her heart to the rapture they knew so well, but she moved against him, the soft curves of her body luring him past the bounds of reason with a magical spell woven in so subtle a fashion he was entranced before he realized how easily she'd again conquered his will.
Enveloped in the lamps' soft glow, the room took on an air of mystery which Gabrielle found far more exciting than the clear blue sky under which they'd last made love. Unable to
passively accept Jason*s generous kisses, she slipped from his embrace, the flowing strands of her auburn hair brushing his chest with a silken caress as she leaned down to kiss him. His mouth clung to hers, but she pulled away, not content with such innocent play when she knew how to please him in another far more intimate way. She trailed light kisses down his throat and across his broad chest, then slowly over the taut bronze skin of his flat stomach. Finally, he could take no more of her seductive affection, and with a deep laugh, he caught her in a close embrace and pushed her down upon the feather pillows.