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Authors: Cynthia Woolf

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BOOK: Capital Bride
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“Up here are only bedrooms. Someday I want to put water and a bathroom up here but that’s on down the road. Katy’s bedroom is the first on the right. I thought we could put MaryAnn across the hall. The back left bedroom can be the nursery. Our bedroom is the back right.”

He opened the door and stepped aside so she could go into their room before him. It was a big room. She walked around touching everything. There was a double bed, tall boy dresser, small commode with a pitcher and basin on it, two nightstands, an overstuffed chair by the large picture window and a changing screen in the corner with a chamber pot behind it.

“That’s a beautiful screen. One of Dorothy’s touches?”

“Yes, but you can removed it if you like. If there’s anything you don’t like I’ll have it taken away.”

Sarah touched his hand. “It’s fine. The room is lovely. Dorothy had good taste. After all, she married you.”

John cleared his throat. “Yes, she did didn’t she?”

She looked everything over and then came back to the bed. Amazing how a double bed can look so small. She swallowed hard. John was going to want a wedding night. How was she going to explain that she didn’t really know what she was supposed to do? She’d only made love once before and that brought about MaryAnn.

“It’s a lovely room.”

“Like I said, you can change whatever you like. It’s your room now, too.”

“Thank you.”

“The chair by the window is for reading. Do you like to read?”

Sarah tore her gaze away from the bed. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I was asking if you liked to read. Dorothy did, so I put the chair there by the window. She didn’t get to make much use of it. There’s a lot of work to running a successful ranching operation. Not much time left for anything else.”

“I’m sure there is. I…um…yes, I do like to read.”

“Are you nervous, Sarah?”

She heard laughter in his voice and glanced up at him. Too late she saw his eyes smoldering.

“I…I am a little nervous.” She turned away from him, walked to the closet and opened the door. Maybe she could just walk in close the door and disappear.

“You don’t need to be.”

She looked back at him. His hands were behind his back. She could see his erection straining at his pants. “I don’t?”

He shook his head. “How long has it been since you made love?”

“Since before MaryAnn was born. Her father died at Bull Run. She never knew her father. He and I were….”

He walked over to her and placed two fingers gently against her lips. “You’re rambling.” He replaced his fingers with his lips. Soft, firm lips. He didn’t touch her except with his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him closer. His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips and she opened for him. Warm, he tasted clean and he smelled so good and she couldn’t get close enough. Finally he brought his arms around her and gathered her close. She’d missed this. Kissing. A man’s touch. A….

“Hee hee,” came MaryAnn’s little giggle.

She and John broke apart, looked over to the door and saw both little girls laughing.

Sarah knew she flushed and it was confirmed when MaryAnn said, “Did Mr. Atwood make you hot again, Mama? You’re all red.”

She wanted the floor to just swallow her up. When she looked at John, he had a big grin on his face.

“I make you hot, do I?”

“Oh, just hush.” She went to the door and shoo’d the girls out of the room. “Let’s go see if there are any cookies. Or better yet let’s go make some.” A low chuckle followed her out of the room. She didn’t look back.

* * *

“Bertha, do we have the makings for sugar cookies?”

She and the girls walked into the kitchen. Bertha had just finished plucking the chicken and was working on the pin feathers with a small pair of pliers.

“I’m sure there is. I don’t bake much. Even worse at it than I am at cooking. Look at you. The boss got a good one with you. A looker who can cook and bake, too.”

“Stop. You’ll make me blush.”

“Too late,” came a deep, baritone from behind her. He put his hand on her waist and gave her a small hug. Now she knew she was blushing. She had to get over this or she’d be forever red.
 

She swatted at him. “Now stop that.”

The girls and Bertha laughed.

“I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll go get your trunks while you do some cooking.”

“We’re making cookies,” she called to his retreating form.

“Mama, do you like Mr. Atwood?”

Sarah looked down at the little girls. Both were looking up at her with such serious faces.

“Yes, I do like Mr. Atwood.” She watched both of them visibly relax. “Why?”

“Well, me and Katy, we like each other and if you didn’t like Mr. Atwood we might not stay.”

“Whoa, right there. We are
not
going anywhere. This is our home now. Forever.”

“Forever,” echoed John from the kitchen door. “Katydid. No one is going to take Sarah and MaryAnn from us. We all belong to each other now.”

“That’s right,” confirmed Sarah.

“I put the first of the trunks in our bedroom. Do you want the other two there too?”

“No put them in MaryAnn’s room. I’ll unpack them from there and we won’t be tripping over them while I do it. I have to figure out what trunk got misplaced. Maybe I’ll get lucky and it’ll be the one with the spring clothes in it.”

He nodded and started to leave. “Are you girls alright now?”

“Yes, sir,” answered MaryAnn. Katy nodded.

“Good.” He left to get the rest of the trunks.

“I sure am glad you like him, Mama.”

“Me, too, sweetheart. You girls want to help me make cookies?”

They both nodded.

“Bertha, where are the dish towels. These little helpers need aprons. And so do I.”

“Coming right up, missus.”

Sarah lit the oven, mixed the cookie dough and rolled it out. The girls took turns cutting it out and putting it on the cookie sheet. While they baked she cut the chicken up for frying and heated the grease on the stove. After ten minutes, she checked the cookies. They needed a few more minutes so she put the chicken in for frying. When she’d gotten all of it in the two cast iron Dutch ovens, the cookies were ready to come out.

She took the cookies and put them on a dish towel to cool while she put another batch in the oven. The girls each got a warm cookie and a glass of cold milk from the ice box.

“What is that wonderful smell?” asked John as he came into the kitchen rolling down his shirt sleeves.
 

She smiled at him. Her heart did a little flip. Oh my look at those arms. “
That
is sugar cookies. Would you like one?”

“Aren’t you afraid it’ll spoil my dinner?”

“The way I cook, nothing is going to spoil your dinner. Which reminds me,” she went and turned the chicken over.

“That smells good, too. What are you making for dinner?”

“Fried chicken, biscuits, mashed potatoes, and fresh peas that Bertha shelled. We’ll have sugar cookies for dessert. How does that sound?”

“Great. I put the trunks where you wanted them.”

“Thank you, I’ll start unpacking after dinner.”

Sarah and Bertha set the table and Bertha banged the triangle calling all the men to supper. There was a small porch off the kitchen. Bertha placed a couple of basins of hot water and several towels on a table there so the men could wash up before meals. They washed their face and hands before coming in to eat.

“Men,” said John, “this is Sarah, my new wife. She is also our new cook, no offense to Bertha.”

“None taken, boss. I’m glad to be rid of the chore and am looking forward to some good vittles like everybody else.”

“You will show Sarah and our daughter MaryAnn the same honor and respect you did Dorothy and do Katy. Dig in everyone,” said John.

She was somewhat surprised at their good manners. They were all respectful and calmly passed the food around the table.
 

Even though there was a dining room they didn’t use it. The family and the hired help all ate together. Sarah liked that.

The men were very animated after the first bite. There were ooh’s and ah’s and then silence as they began to eat in earnest. There were no leftovers either. Sarah made a mental note to cook more. The men would have eaten it if she’d cooked it. They worked hard. They needed their strength.

There was almost a scuffle over the last biscuit. Bertha stopped it by taking it herself.

“Thank you for a fine meal, Mrs. Atwood,” said Ben one of the drovers.

“Thank you,” the other men echoed.

“That was the best meal we’ve had in two years,” said Bertha. “You did real good, boss. She’s a definite keeper.”

John smiled. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Thank you all, but it was nothing really.”

“Nothing? Talent is not nothing and you have a definite talent for cooking. Bertha you are officially retired from the cook position.”

Sara wasn’t used to such praise and gloried in it.

“Let’s clean up now. You girls can help by bringing the dishes to the sink.”

“You never mind about the dishes.” Bertha filled a metal bucket with water and set it on the stove to heat. “I’ll clean up. You go and unpack. I know you can’t have done any of it.”

“Thank you, I think I will. In the mean time, I want you girls to get ready for a bath and then to bed.”

“Ah, Mama, do we got to take a bath?”

Sarah looked over both girls, still in their finery from earlier today. Neither one was messy or dirty.

“Okay, you don’t have to bathe tonight but for sure tomorrow. Now go on upstairs and put your nightgowns on. I’ll be up in a little bit to tuck you in.”

She finished clearing the table to Bertha’s grumblings and then went upstairs to MaryAnn’s room. Her empty room. She went across the hall to Katy’s room and found both little girls fast asleep in Katy’s bed.

“Looks like they’ve decided to share a room,” said John from behind her.

“I guess so.”

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I think they need each other and I’m glad they’re friends.” Sarah closed the door to Katy’s room.

“Me, too. I have high hopes Katy will start talking again with MaryAnn here.”
 

“I hope you’re right. It would be wonderful. Do you think the outlaw threatened her or something like that?”
 

“I don’t know. I hope not. Now come along. Time for us to go to bed, too.” He put his arm around her waist and guided her to their room. “I know you’re a little nervous, Sarah, but I won’t hurt you. I won’t even make love to you tonight but I will hold you and touch you and look at you. It’s been more than two years since I’ve made love and I’m a little rusty.”

“I haven’t found my nightgown yet. I’ll have to look through the trunk in our room.”

“No need.”

“No need?”

“Yup. I want you naked as the day you were born. I want us to get used to each other’s body. Are you willing to try it? I won’t force you.”

She put her hand on top of his and moved into his embrace, her back to his chest. “I’d like that. Getting to know each other slowly.”

“Yes.” He turned her in his arms and finished the kiss the girls interrupted earlier. “Now that was a proper kiss.”

Proper! Her knees were weak, barely capable of keeping her upright and there was warmth down in her center. An ache so deep inside she would have thought she was sick if she didn’t remember a similar ache once before. A very long time back. A lifetime ago.

They went into the bedroom and John began shucking his clothes. Sarah unbuttoned her jacket and put it on top of the trunk. Then came her skirt followed by her blouse. She stood there in her chemise and bloomers.

“Turn around Sarah. I want to see you,” he said from the bed where he lay in all his God given glory.

She took a deep breath and let it out again as she turned. He was magnificent. Hard muscle covered his arms and torso. She tried to pass over his groin but was drawn to it like a duck to water. He was fully erect and monstrous in size compared to Lee.

“Don’t be shy. You’re a beautiful woman.”

Bolstered by his praise she took off her chemise.

John sucked in his breath. “Beautiful doesn’t begin to describe you. Exquisite is better.”

Fortified, she dropped her bloomers and stood before him totally naked. Stripped of all the barriers she’d had for most of her life.

CHAPTER 4

“Now come to bed.”

She walked to her side of the bed and turned down the covers.

“No. Not yet. Don’t get under the covers.”

“But I’m cold.”

“Come here. I’ll warm you up.” He lifted his left arm in invitation.

She took a deep fortifying breath and moved close to him. Felt his skin on hers, hot, almost burning.

BOOK: Capital Bride
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