Stephen’s Bride (12 page)

His lips left her mouth and trailed to her jaw, neck, a slight nip to her collarbone, then a soothing with his tongue. She leaned away, his large hands spanning the width of her back as his mouth trailed down her chest to latch onto her nipple. He suckled, hard, and she felt it all the way to her cord.

His arm slid to her waist to hold her firm against him as her knees buckled. He continued to suck on her breast until she could no longer take a breath. Her body hummed and she felt alive for the first time in weeks. Stephen knelt, bringing her with him to the floor, where he stretched her out before him, his eyes taking in every inch of her slender form. Instead of embarrassment at his scrutiny, she experienced a wave of power at the darkening of his eyes, the twitching of his arousal as if anxious to be inside her. Raising her arms up, she whispered, “Love me, Stephen.”

Piercing blue eyes held her, and with a groan, he trailed his fingers down her stomach to the curly hair at the apex of her thighs. Eyes drifting closed and with a slight hitch in her breath, she moved her legs apart to allow him to dip into her moist center. Meanwhile his lips were busy kissing the sensitive skin under her ear. She kept her hands occupied by running them over the angles and curves of his body.

Stephen raised his head to stare into her eyes. “I love you so much, and don’t want to live anymore without you.”

She twirled one of his curls in her fingers. “I love you, too, and I’m so sorry I drove you off. I knew as soon as I gave you that envelope that—”

He placed his finger on her lips. “It’s over now. No more separations.” He kissed her lightly on her lips. “Just love.”

With those words, he moved over and settled between her legs. The feel of his body resting on hers brought her such joy she almost cried out. Bracing himself on his elbows, he pushed his member into her opening, bringing a slight moan from deep within her. His slow and deliberate movements started the thrumming in her core. She shifted her bottom and wrapped her legs around his waist and immediately the added contact started her spiraling toward what her body ached for.

Stephen wrapped his hands around her head and pressed his lips to hers, more of a caress than a kiss. She ran her palms down his back, over the muscles that crunched and released as he moved in her. She tensed her muscles, straining for the release she sought.

“Relax, sweetheart, let me do the work.” The words had no sooner left his mouth than she exploded, waves of pleasure washing over her as a low keening came from deep within her. He covered her mouth with his as he gave one final push as he reached his release, also.

The next morning the sun streamed through the large bedroom window, bathing their bodies in a flood of warm light. Calliope turned and faced Stephen who was wide awake and staring at her, his head propped up on his hand. Memories of the night before flashed through her, setting her heart to gallop in her chest.

“Good morning.”

She smiled, so glad he had come home. Never again would she let her fear of control take over her life to the extent that she chased away the man she loved.

Then as if a cloud had passed over the sun, her spirits dropped. She sat up and pulled the sheet to cover her nakedness. Stephen took the sheet between his finger and thumb and attempted to yank it free. As much as she would like a repeat of the night before, she had to tell him about the mortgage.

“There is something serious I must discuss with you.”

Apparently sensing her mood, he dropped his hand and sat up alongside her. Taking her free hand in his, he said, “What is it? You seem worried.”

“I am.” She closed her eyes and attempted to compose herself. She didn’t want her control to crack like a dropped egg and cry for all she would lose. And most of all, she didn’t want Stephen to think she was happy to have him back only because of her dilemma. No matter how many times last night they professed their love for each other, it was important for him to know she wanted him back for himself.

“Rupert visited a couple of weeks ago.” She stopped when his hand tightened on hers and his body stiffened.

“I told him—“ he started.

“—he came with Mr.Traynor, the banker.”

Stephen’s brows came together. “What for?”

She told him the story, along with the second visit the day before. “I’ve searched his paperwork and can’t find any receipts for the payments.”

“Could it be your father put them in a special place, not with his other papers?”

“I’ve gone over the entire house, more than once, and can’t find them anywhere.”

Despite her best efforts, her eyes filled with tears that slid down her face. “I don’t know what to do. I know Papa was diligent in making those payments. But one hundred and eighty three dollars might as well be one million.”

Stephen put his arm around her shoulders and drew her to his chest. “I’m curious to know why Melrose is so anxious to buy the farm. Something doesn’t seem, right.”

She shook her head. “I have no idea. He’s always liked this farm because we have more water, but I know there’s something else. First he tried to force me to marry him and now he’s teamed up with Mr. Traynor to take my farm from me.”

“He’s not going to take your farm from you.” He hugged her close.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh? And where am I going to get one hundred and eighty-three dollars?”

He kissed her on the head. “I’m going to give it to you.”

***

Stephen felt good about his decision. It would make Calliope happy and therefore was the right thing to do.

Calliope broke free of his hold and stared at him. “You will? Where will you get that much money?”

He ran his knuckle down her cheek. “I’ve been saving since I came home from the war. I had planned to start a horse farm, like my brother has, and what we had as boys growing up. At last count, including the pay I received from you,” he grinned, “there is close to two hundred dollars.”

“A horse farm? Yes I remember you mentioning that.” She shook her head. “No. As much as I appreciate your offer, that’s your dream. I can’t take that money.”

Stephen took her face in his hands. “Listen to me, sweetheart. It’s my money, and I can do with it as I please.” He kissed her briefly. “Don’t you understand there are no dreams for me if you’re not happy? This farm means the world to you.”

“But—“

“No buts. We’ll go into town today, pay off the mortgage, celebrate with a nice dinner at the café, and go on with our lives.”

Calliope’s face crumbled and with the heels of her hands pressed against her eyes, she cried. After all she’d done, she certainly didn’t deserve his kindness.

Stephen swung his legs over the side of the bed, then pulled her up. “Let’s go. No more tears. We’ll get this over with.”

He smacked her lightly on her bare bottom. “Get dressed, Mrs. McCoy, your husband is taking you into town.” As she turned toward her wardrobe, he tugged her by the hand. “And where your best Sunday-go-to-meeting dress. And that funny little hat.”

They dressed, in between kisses and touches, gave the house one more search to make sure the receipts weren’t there, then headed to Sterling National Bank. The noon time sun was high in the sky as they arrived at the bank. The town was busy as usual, women going from shop to shop, little children trailing behind them, or holding onto their skirts.

There were three people in the bank, in line waiting to see the teller. A man with a wrinkled suit and stringy hair sat at a desk behind a railing. A plaque with “Mr. Traynor” sat on his desk. Stephen placed his hand on Calliope’s lower back and directed her toward the man’s desk.

Traynor looked up, his eyes grew wide, and he shifted his glance from him to Calliope. “May I help you?” To Stephen’s way of thinking, he looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Stephen nudged Calliope around the railing, pulled out a chair in front of the desk for her, then he sat in the one next to it. “I’m Stephen McCoy, Mr. Traynor and I believe you know Mrs. McCoy. I understand there is a mortgage due on my wife’s property?”

The man nodded. “Yes. Her father failed to make the last payment and according to the mortgage, if a payment is missed the entire amount becomes due.” His eyes failed to meet Stephen’s and he fiddled with the pen on his desk.

Stephen leaned back and crossed one booted foot over his knee. “Is that right?”

“I explained all of this to Mrs. McCoy two weeks ago. We wanted to speak to you, but you were not at home.”

Stephen cupped his chin with his thumb and index finger as if in deep contemplation. “Yes, I see. She did mention something about that. And why would you need to explain it to me? Do you have reason to believe my wife has a problem with the English language?”

Calliope tried to hide her giggle behind a cough.

Traynor grew red in the face. “No. It’s just that a man should be taking care of business, not a woman. That’s probably why the last payment was missed.” He sniffed and raised his chin.

Stephen stared at him until the man began to fidget in his chair.

“Yet, Mrs. McCoy tells me you specifically mentioned the payment that had been missed was before Mr. Bender died.” He paused. “A man.”

The banker waved his hand in dismissal. “No matter. The situation remains the same. Either Mrs. McCoy comes up with one hundred eighty-three dollars and eleven cents in the next few days or the title to the farm will revert to the bank.”

Stephen leaned his forearms on the desk, causing Traynor to back up until he was plastered against his chair. “Then what happens?”

“It becomes the bank’s property.”

“I see. And you, or your staff, will tend to the farm? Milk the cow, feed the chickens, and so forth?”

This time he was sure Calliope snorted.

“No, of course not,” he snapped. “The farm will be sold. We—that is the bank—will keep the money.”

“And if it sells for more than one hundred eighty-three dollars and eleven cents?”

He was apparently flustering Traynor. The man fumbled with his pen, stretched his neck muscles, ran his finger along his collar. “There are fees and such that would eat up whatever is left.”

“Fees. Yes of course.” Stephen paused for a moment. “And I assume you have a buyer?”

The banker apparently had enough. He stood. “Mr. McCoy, there really is no need for this conversation. Unless your wife has the necessary money, I must ask you to leave the bank so I may continue with my work.”

Stephen shrugged, then reached into his back pocket, withdrew his wallet and counted out one hundred eighty-three dollars and eleven cents in a neat pile in the middle of Traynor’s desk.

The man stared at the money, his mouth agape.

“Is there something wrong, Mr. Traynor?”

***

A week after their trek into town, Stephen walked Topaz into the barn. He gave him a good brushing and a bag of oats. He took the steps two at a time to the house and sniffed appreciatively at the aroma coming from the kitchen. “Smells good.” He walked up behind Calliope and nuzzled her neck. “I thought you said you couldn’t cook.”

“Not that I couldn’t cook, but I didn’t want to be thought of as only a cook.”

“Oh, baby, I don’t think of you as only a cook. Believe me.” He leaned his head on her shoulder and looked into the pot. “What’s for supper?”

“Chicken and dumplings.”

“My favorite.”

She turned with a dripping spoon in her hand and smirked. “Last night when I made beef stew you said that was your favorite.”

His hands wrapped around her waist to slide down to her bottom that he pressed against him. “Actually, you’re my favorite. Suppose we skip supper.” His head descended and he took her mouth in a gentle, but insistent kiss.

“I’m hungry.” She nibbled on his lip. “Don’t want to skip supper.”

He ran his tongue over her lips. “Let’s eat fast.”

The shared a searing kiss before Calliope pulled away. Stephen got out bowls and silverware and set the table. Calliope filled their plates and they both sat.

Stephen held his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Oh, I have a bit of news for you.” He put the food in his mouth and swallowed. “I found out in town today why the bank and Melrose were so interested in buying your farm.”

“Why?”

“The railroad company is putting a line through Sterling and they want it to run right through your farm and put a fancy station here. If Melrose got a hold of it, he would have been paid ten times as much as its worth.”

She laid her spoon down. “Really?”

“That’s right. And Traynor was in on it with him. The bank would take the farm, Melrose would buy it for the price of the mortgage, and when he sold it to the railroad, they would split the money.”

“Well I’ll be damned.”

Stephen’s eyebrows rose. He’d never heard Calliope swear before. She shook her head and continued to eat. “I don’t want an old railroad going through my farm. They can just find somewhere else to build it.” She looked at him. “Right?”

“Absolutely, honey. This is your farm.”

They finished supper, quickly washed the dishes and retired to bed.

In the weeks that followed, Stephen began to settle into farm life. He got a great deal of pleasure from watching the corn and wheat grow. Several barn animals had taken sick and he nursed them through the night. He put in long hours, but was never too tired to make love to his wife which he did on a regular basis.

He felt comfortable in loving Calliope. She was not Jenny and would never betray him, and his heart was well protected. They lay in bed at night, talking about their future and how they could expand the farm. Maybe even, she said one night, think about adding a horse farm. That hope seemed out of reach, but he was happy and Calliope was happy. That meant more than any dream of his.

Two months after their visit to the bank, Calliope took the wagon into town to buy what she called
women’s things
. He hoped she had a good time in town because she’d been a bit under the weather lately. Kind of jumpy and moody, also. Most likely she just needed some time away from the farm. She worked too hard, and he was going to insist before planting season next year that they hire more help. He didn’t want her working like a man. Of course, he couldn’t say it quite that way, though. She was still a bit sensitive on that part.