Fields of Fire (29 page)

Lem patted the odd-shaped lump on one side of his chest and pulled from beneath his smock a badly bruised red apple. “This here’s for me horse.”

Jalene smiled at Lem. The man was as proud of his horse as he was of his family.

“A fine one, he is.” Taylor glanced at the beast who was now hitched closer to the caravan.

“That horse is part of us,” Lem replied. “The owner was going to have the beast shot when the animal was deathly ill. I asked if I could care for the horse, and since the owner preferred not to shoot him, he agreed. I nursed the horse back to health.”

“Where did you get the wagon?” Hug asked, apparently in a friendly, more talkative mood.

Jalene hoped this marked the beginning of the end to the earlier tension between them.

“The wagon came with Twyla when I married her,” Lem answered. “Of course, it was only a flatbed then, and we didn’t have no horse, but with every scrap of wood and every chance I got, I’d work on the wagon until it became what ye see today.”

“Fine craftsmanship,” Taylor said. “A work of art.”

Lem beamed at the compliment.

Silence followed for a few moments as they all ate. The campfire flickered brightly, and it was a cozy, welcoming sight to Jalene now that dark descended upon them and dampness touched the night air.

Lem’s ma stood and with her toothless grin fixed on Hug, offered him more supper. He thanked her, but declined, although the stew had been delicious. Everyone else did the same as the bowl was passed around. Twyla then proceeded to take the dishes away.

“Let me help you,” Jalene stood and prepared to help gather and wash the dishes.

“Nay,” Twyla insisted, “ye stay with yer husband while I see to this.”

Jalene would have protested, but she was too taken aback by Twyla’s uncharacteristic authoritative manner and startling words. The woman thought she was married though she displayed no ring. Jalene quickly looked to Taylor to see his reaction. He flashed her a handsome, deep-dimpled smile and tugged at her hand for her to sit back in place at his side. Her heart skipped several beats, and she obediently complied.

Taylor leaned closer to her and whispered, in a voice that only she could hear. “Do you find it such a horrible idea, Jalene? Your expression suggests that the thought pains you. I don’t mean to sound conceited, but there are women who would jump at the chance to have me for a husband.”

Aye, like the red-haired twins in Enniskillen, she wagered to herself, and to him whispered back, “I’m surprised that Twyla would make the assumption. I have no opinion, or concerns about your merits as a spouse,” she answered truthfully, but knew now that the idea was planted in her head, the next time she was alone, she’d probably dwell on it.

Lem apparently mistook their whispers as a hint that they wanted to do more than whisper. “Still lovebirds are ye? Ye can use me caravan for the night.” Lem stood and slicked his chin-length black hair behind his ears.

“We couldn’t inconvenience you,” Jalene squeaked out, knowing this could be the opportunity Taylor was waiting for—to make love to her. Part of her was thrilled by the idea, yet the other part was worried and unsure.

“It’s no bother. I insist.” Lem became quite serious, and Jalene knew that to argue any further would offend him. He continued, “This is a clear night for stargazing with me favorite person.” Twyla returned to his side carrying two small square pieces of cake on a plate. Lem grinned and gave her a one-armed hug, nearly toppling the dessert.

Twyla handed Jalene the plate. “I made this ginger cake yesterday for a special occasion.”

“It looks delicious. Thank you, Twyla,” she answered and took the cake. Sweets were a rare treat for these people, and Jalene was touched by their generosity.

Twyla glanced at Hug, “I’ve a piece for ye, too.

Hug’s eyes widened in anticipation, and he licked his lips in reply.

They all laughed.

“Don’t worry about your grandda. Between me and Ma we’ll see that he’s comfortable. Don’t fret over those highwaymen either. I’ll see to them before I retire.”

“Thank you, Lem,” Taylor replied, as he stood. He held Jalene’s piece of cake in one hand and pulled her to her feet with his other. When he returned the cake to her, he still kept firm hold of her hand. Lem shoved a lantern at him, and Taylor led her towards the caravan.

The need to calm her racing heart, forced her to chatter idly. “I’m so glad you and Hug were able to help the tinkers. Twyla fixed a good meal. Don’t you think? Hm?” She sighed and breathed in the woodsy night smell. When they stopped at the rear of the caravan, Taylor released her hand to unlatch the door. He stepped up inside to hang the lantern, took the cake from her and stepped back down to help her.

She made a feeble attempt at delaying the inevitable. “This is truly a lovely evening. Maybe I’ll sit outside here for awhile. I’m not really sleepy.”

“Good, because sleep is not what I have in mind.” He instantly lifted her at the waist onto the side step and patted her bottom to hurry her upward inside the caravan.

Chapter 19

Jalene sat comfortably on layers of soft fur bedding. Above her head on either side were bunks and above them, storage compartments. It was close quarters inside, but she could see how the wagon slept four. Jonathan and Lem’s ma must have slept in the bunks while Lem and Twyla slept beneath them on the furs,

The lantern hung on a hook near the entrance. With the doors closed, the wagon offered a cozy refuge. Taylor sat next to her, watching her survey the interior of the wagon.

“Lem has done a wonderful job with this wagon, hasn’t he?” she said, painfully aware of his nearness.

“Aye,” he agreed, still studying her.

Unsure of what to do, she broke off a piece of the ginger cake and handed it to Taylor. His fingertips brushed hers as he took it. The slight contact caused her stomach to flutter. She broke off another portion for herself and ate it. She glanced at him. His gaze was intense. It suggested that he would be patient with her, within limits.

She broke off another piece of cake, but this time, to avoid touching him she released the morsel too soon, and it fell to his lap. His bulging arousal was clearly evident through his tight breeches. She quivered with excitement. Slowly, she looked up at his face. He rose to his knees, grabbed her by both arms and pulled her up to him so that she could feel his manhood through her gown. With his lips inches from hers, he hoarsely whispered, “I want you more than I’ve wanted any woman in my life. Christ, how I want you.”

She closed her eyes. Aye, he wanted her, but did he love her? Did she love him? Did it even matter? Their situation was different, one where the rules no longer applied.

She opened her eyes to gaze into his. In that moment, she knew too, that she wanted no other man more than him and whispered back, “Have me.”

His lips came crushing down on her own as he firmly held her to him. As she embraced him in turn, her kisses became more urgent, more impassioned. He broke away and started to strip down to his breeches. As he did so, she ran her hand across his furry chest before he was completely out of his waistcoat and shirt. When he’d removed them, she traced a path that followed the hair on his chest down to his breeches, stopping before the waistband.

He looked up at her. His eyes blazed with desire. He reached to pull her into his arms again, but she seductively held him at bay.

Dear Lord, but she wanted to give him intense pleasure. Slowly, she tossed off the shawl and slipped one shoulder of her gown down and next the other, exposing her breasts to him. His eyes were like compelling whirlpools, beckoning her to him, and in response to her, he lowered his breeches, freeing his manhood.

The sight of a man—not any man, but Taylor—made her light-headed, and she swelled moist and hot between her thighs. He removed the breeches completely and resumed his kneeling position before her, his hands at ease at his side. His erect organ was jutting out proudly, both alarming and inviting her.

Patiently—and she sensed with much control—he waited and watched her. She fumbled to remove the rest of the midnight blue gown and her undergarments, before she knelt naked before him. She glanced from his magnificent manhood up into his passion-filled eyes.

“Have me,” she offered again, wanting to experience with him what he and only he could give her.

“Say it,” he commanded. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you, Captain.” Dear Lord, but she did.

“Use my name.” His voice cracked.

“I want you, Taylor.”

Roughly, as one so impassioned, he kissed her more deeply and passionately. His arms felt like a steel band about her. Her nipples hardened, crushed as they were against the warmth of his muscled chest. His manhood rubbed against her, causing the wonderful swelling sensation between her thighs to increase.

She swayed into him, reveling in the sensations her bare hips against his bare hips brought her, wanting to feel more and be closer to him. He moved his hips in return and she thought she would burst from want. Not even in her wildest fantasies, could she have imagined such intense joy. Frantically, she kissed him and pulled him closer.

“Easy, sweetness. I’ll not have you until you’re truly ready, like a fine wine.” Taylor eased her back against the furs. With one hand he caressed her breast before he lowered his head to suck the nipple. He repeated the action with the other nipple and kissed his way down to her navel, tickling her there with his tongue. He scattered hot kisses along her inner thigh to the top of her curly triangular patch, over her navel, between her breasts, and returned to her lips before he lay halfway over her.

His hand caressingly moved along her thigh to touch the bud between her legs. She moved her hips against his hand, wanting more.

“Love me, Taylor,” she huskily said, “but let me touch you first. Let me feel with my hand what my body will feel inside me.”

She reached, and he led her to his manhood. The instant her hand covered the hardened, yet soft flesh, he groaned with pleasure, and it excited her further. Instinctively, she caressed the length of him, enjoying the feel of him until she yearned for him to be inside her.

His thoughts reflected her own for he spread her thighs and raised himself on top of her. He nudged the head of his manhood to meet her soft warmth, and she raised her hips to encourage his entry. He kissed her lips and swiftly broke through her maidenhead and buried himself within her. The brief jolt of pain surprised her and almost as quickly ceased when he paused a moment, waiting for her to get used to him. Slowly, he began moving his hardened length inside her. “Ah, sweetness, you’re beautiful,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her neck and mouth.

“As are you,” she murmured through his kisses, lost to the wondrous way he was making her feel.

He kissed her forehead, cheek and mouth before he reluctantly lifted himself from her to caress her between her legs once more. The instant he touched her, she thought she would go mad with desire. He stroked her slowly at first, gradually intensifying the pace and pleasure until she was wanting, no—demanding that he satisfy her. He reentered her. His assault steadily increased until she was squirming and rocking beneath him in frenzied passion. Finally, when she thought nothing could feel more exulting, she experienced a release and an emotional excitement that she had never known existed.

She hugged him tightly to her while he moved within her a few moments longer to where he finally groaned in fulfillment and spilled his seed within her.

“Christ!” he said through heavy breathing. He lay collapsed atop her a moment before he eased himself from her. “Nothing compares to you.”

At that moment, she was completely and utterly content with the world.

Taylor rolled from her, but only long enough to put out the lantern and pull her into his arms so that her back pressed against his chest. He placed a tender kiss on her neck and affectionately massaged her arm.

She sighed.

“My feelings precisely, sweetness.” He hugged her to him.

She savored his closeness and allowed herself the luxury of feeling secure and right in his arms before sleep captured her.

* * * *

“Hush, lass. Don’t cry. We’ll have you out in no time.”

“Hurry, Poppy. ‘Tis so dark. I can’t see. Poppy, ‘tis coming at me, again. Nay! Nay! Get away!”

Jalene’s eyes blinked open with the same words from the same reoccurring dream ringing in her ears. For a second, she feared she was hearing her own voice. When she heard the wail once more, she realized that it was the toddler, Jonathan. She quickly glanced at Taylor. To her relief, he still slept.

Sometime during the night, they’d turned and separated, and one of the fur coverings found its way over them. Now, in the light of morning, she rolled to her side, seizing the opportunity to stare boldly at him.

He lay on his stomach with his face buried in the furs. Part of his leg and fuzzy bottom peeked out from beneath the coverings. Her stomach did a flip-flop as she reflected on their lovemaking the night before. He had finally taken her, and she didn’t regret a moment of it. How this would affect their future relationship—she didn’t know. But after last night she was certain—she loved the man.

At what exact moment it had begun, she couldn’t say. But with all her heart she vowed it was true. Of course, she’d never make such a confession to Taylor. She didn’t need to be reminded that he’d predicted she’d be asking him to make love to her. Did he foresee that she’d lose her heart as well?

She rolled from her side to her back and instantly noticed on the ceiling of the wagon a carving that wasn’t visible by lantern light at dark. A tiny man—nay, a leprechaun was beckoning to a man—a mortal, to follow him across a swift and dangerous stream. The man appeared uncertain. Surrounding him were objects that represented everything that was safe and sure. Across the stream, where the leprechaun stood, were all the mortal man’s hopes and desires. Underneath this carving were the words, “Follow your dreams.”