Homespun Hearts (20 page)

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Authors: Caroline Fyffe,Kirsten Osbourne,Pamela Morsi

BOOK: Homespun Hearts
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Chapter Thirty-Eight


L
uke
?”

“Shh, don’t talk,” he said. “Just let me feel your hair free from its bonds. I’ve been wondering about it for a long time.”

Faith closed her eyes as he slowly feathered her long hair over her shoulder and ran his fingers through it. Picking up a section, he held it to his nose. The lowing of the cattle in the distance could be heard over her breathing. He felt the pulse at the base of her throat with his thumb and stared into her eyes. He saw what he needed to see.

First he brushed his lips across hers, as if testing their softness. Getting no resistance, he lowered his head, letting his mouth meander over hers softly, reveling in the closeness.

He moved his hand down her side, then back up past the curve of her waist, stopping just below the fullness of her breast. She was strong. Even for just having had a baby, her body was firm and beautiful.

He waited for her to tell him to stop, to show any sign she didn’t want him to take such intimate familiarities, but she lay by his side, kissing him back. She sighed and pressed her lips more firmly to his, answering his unspoken question.

“Luke,” she whispered against his lips, “I like lying in the grass with you.”

He slid his arm around her body and pulled her closer, then leaned back and touched her nose with a finger. “You know what I thought when I found you in that wagon, pouring rain all around?”

“What?”

“You were a little girl lost.” He pulled again, and their bodies meshed together as only a man’s and woman’s can. “Not a vixen.”

It seemed she was having a hard time paying attention to what he was saying. She finally responded, a bit breathlessly. “I’m no vixen, Luke McCutcheon.”

“Oh, I might argue with that. Every cowhand in the outfit is in love with you.” He cleared his throat. “But, I can’t blame ’em. You’re by far the prettiest woman I’ve ever known. And sweet, too.”

“Oh, Luke…”

To his utter amazement, this time she initiated the kiss, gently, sweetly, but with an undercurrent of passion that set his head spinning. Embracing her, he rolled until she was on her back, the tall grass making a wall around them.

He deepened their kiss until they were both breathing heavily. When he attempted to draw away, to give her some air, she protested and pulled him back.

“Faith?” he whispered against her temple. He’d felt the change in her body the moment she tensed. Her deep, dark secret was back building the wall between them. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going away. Her thoughts were elsewhere. He smoothed the hair from her forehead and looked down into her eyes. “Faith. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

F
aith tried
to push everything from her mind except the joy of being with Luke, safe and secure in his arms, enjoying the closeness and wonder of him. She wanted to remember every tiny detail: his taste, the way his cheek rubbed against hers, the timbre of his voice when he said her name, the feel of his hands as they ran the length of her body. Her senses tingled with acute awareness of everything around her. She was finally, truly and unbelievably, alive.

But now the world was trying to intrude. She wouldn’t let it. No. She wanted—
needed
—this memory to keep with her in the years to come. She reached for his hand and placed it between them on the bodice of her dress.

When he didn’t move, she began releasing the tiny buttons. They ran down the front of her dress, from her chin to her waist. She peeled back the fabric until a thin cotton chemise was the only barrier between them.

“What’s this about?” he whispered.

“I want…” She rolled her head to the side where he couldn’t see her face. She didn’t have the nerve to finish her sentence.

Bending close, he slowly kissed her lips, sending fire coursing through her veins. He lightly touched the swell of her breast and said, “Faith, honey, this is very sweet of you but—”

“It’s the only thing I have to give you, Luke,” she interrupted.

“Hush,” he whispered, as he took her face in his hands and turned it so he could see into her eyes. “Don’t you know I don’t want this unless I can have what’s
here?
” He tapped softly on both of her temples. “And this, too.” He leaned down and pressed a small kiss above her wildly beating heart. “It would mean nothing to me without the rest of you.”

L
uke rolled onto his back
, taking Faith along with him, snuggling her into the crook of his arm. He looked up into the blue sky and pointed to a bird flying high on the breeze. “See the hawk?” he asked, all while his fingers were lightly tracing, barely touching, slowly moving back and forth over her heart.

She ran her hand across his chest in answer, sneaked it inside his shirt. At his intake of breath when she actually touched his skin, she smiled. “I see it.”

His horse nickered loudly. Lifting his head up above the tall grass, Luke looked around. His mount issued another shrill call, sides heaving and eyes bright, looking to the west. Luke followed his gaze.

“What is it?” Faith asked.

Luke looked down at her open bodice and quickly pulled it closed.

“What?” Faith asked again, her voice an octave higher. She struggled against Luke, trying to see.

“Rider. Coming this way. Looks like Roady.”

Faith pushed Luke’s hands aside and, with flying fingers, began doing up all the tiny buttons of her dress.

Luke took another quick peek. Roady had stopped. He sat halfway down the draw, studying their two horses grazing peacefully side by side. Without a word, he reined his horse around and loped back in the direction he’d come.

“He’s gone,” Luke said, pulling Faith to her feet. With her hand in his, they walked through the tall grass to the edge of the bluff atop the rim rock. “Careful now, darlin’, don’t slip,” he cautioned.

To his delight and amazement, Faith wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him tight, her face buried in his chest. In return, he circled her in his arms and stroked her hair. They stood that way for a long time, looking out over the herd, him just enjoying the feel of her. It was a perfect day—a day that could turn into thousands just like it if she’d consent to becoming his wife.

He kissed the top of her head, which was warm from the sun. Her hair sparkled with golden and amber highlights as it moved in the breeze. “Are you happy?” he asked.

“Yes.”

But her sorrow was so deep it couldn’t be hidden. With his hands, he tilted her face up so he could look into her eyes. “You don’t sound too happy.”

“I am,” she insisted breathlessly. “How couldn’t I be?”

Not knowing what else to say, he replied, “I’m glad.”

F
aith turned
in Luke’s arms to look out over the valley.
Please God, not now
. The day had been too sweet, too good, something she’d remember forever. But…
Don’t let him ask me to stay
.

“Faith,” he said, bending to whisper in her ear. “We belong together. I feel it as sure as I see that herd out there under God’s blue sky. And I know you feel it, too.”

Feel it? She lived it, breathed it, and it would kill her when she left. What could she say to deny feelings that were written so clearly in her heart?

“Faith?”

Pulling herself from his protective embrace, she turned and walked back toward the horses. Within moments, he had her by the shoulder and turned around. His face was angry with frustration. His injured eye, now a dark purplish brown, made her heart constrict.

“For God’s sake, Faith,” he gritted out, “you’re not going to start that nonsense again about working in Priest’s Crossing. I can’t believe that after today. I just can’t.” When she didn’t say anything, he went on. “If you’re waiting for the right words…then you may be waiting an awful long time. My words, they just come out plain and simple. Just like me.”

“Luke.” She steeled herself against her longings and looked him in the face. “I want to do this. I want to be on my own. How many times…” She almost choked. “How many times do I have to tell you before you accept it?” She looked away. “I don’t want you.” She glanced back, but his stunned expression was just too much. She turned away so she couldn’t see his face.

It was a long time before he spoke. When he did, he said, “I finally understand. It took me a while to get it through my head, but…you don’t want to be tied to a half-breed. That would make your children half-breeds, too. I’m surprised at you. I didn’t figure you for that type, Faith.”

She turned back to face him. “What are you talking about?” His accusation shocked her. She didn’t understand what he meant.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t figure out Flood isn’t my father. Or that you never noticed I was the only one in the family with black hair, olive skin…You’d have to be blind not to.”

She stared at him, silent.

“Now if it were Mark or Matt doing the asking, wouldn’t your decision be a mite different?”

She shook her head, unbelieving. That would never make a difference to her. She loved him. Every itsy-bitsy part of him. Indian or not, red, green or blue, he’d always be the love of her life.

His eyes blazed with anger, his expression a mask she couldn’t read. For the first time she recognized the Indian heritage he was speaking of.

“You see it now, don’t you?”

His anger was frightening. She took a step back.

“What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll lift that beautiful head of hair? It would make a notable trophy.” He took a menacing step in her direction.

“Stop it!” This time Faith stood her ground. “You’re acting crazy!”

Without anther word, Luke turned and went to the horses and began bridling them. He swung the saddlebag onto the back of his saddle and tied it into place. She hurried over to Buttercup and, lifting her skirt, stepped into the stirrup.

“Ready?” he asked as she lifted herself onto the saddle. His voice was emotionless.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

B
ack at the house
, Faith paced from one side of her bedroom to the other, the crumpled telegram from Christine Meeks in her hand. She couldn’t stay much longer. Things had become too tangled, too involved; people she truly cared about would be hurt when she left. Her image of Luke as she swore she didn’t want him tortured her mind, piercing her heart like a knife.

The inevitability of her leaving was a fact. She’d find Ward and tell him they needed to leave as soon as possible. She’d get him to agree that leaving with Joe Brunn—for cover purposes—would be best. Then she’d meet up with him on the trail. She couldn’t bring herself to let the family know she was leaving with Ward; he would just have to understand. But when was Joe going to be done and come to fetch her? Waiting any longer didn’t seem like a good idea. Especially not after today.

Collapsing with a sigh onto her bed, Faith crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the ceiling. She closed her eyes and relived the kaleidoscope of feelings Luke had created inside her. She remembered the hardness of his chest and how wonderful it felt pillowing her cheek. The wonder of it set her blood spiraling through her body. With a sob, she reached for Dawn, who was sleeping by her side, and held the baby tight until she squirmed for release.

Faith relaxed her hold. “Things will be fine,” she said, looking into her child’s face. “Somehow this will all work itself out, and then…”

A knock sounded on her door.

“Yes?”

“Mrs. Brown?” Esperanza called. “The mistress says dinner will be at six o’clock tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“Would you like the tub brought up?”

“That would be lovely.”

The maid’s footsteps retreated down the long hall.

Maybe the hot water would help her wash away memories that kept haunting her. Memories of angry black eyes, reaching for the bottom of her soul.

F
aith waited
for the last possible moment to descend the stairs. She’d heard voices for some time now, talking and laughing, but she just couldn’t summon up the courage to face Luke.

Luke! Part Indian? Now that he’d pointed it out, she was surprised that she hadn’t noticed it herself. He’d always seemed different from the rest of his family, and yet she’d been unable to put her finger on just what that difference was. In her opinion, he was definitely the most handsome of the three boys. And the wildest. Faith wondered what had happened to Mrs. McCutcheon for Luke to be born in between her other children, sired by a different man.

She checked on Dawn one more time, making sure her baby was still fast asleep, then forced herself to the stairway. She’d tried to spruce up one of her simple dresses, but it wasn’t much use. She felt drab. The only thing that lifted her spirits was the flower Esperanza had placed in the room. She’d fastened it in the back of her hair, which was now styled like Charity’s, half up and half down.

From the upper landing, Faith surveyed the main room. Everyone was there. Rachel sat on the sofa with Matt by her side. He proudly held their family’s new arrival. Colton, Billy and Adam walked around the long dinner table, sneaking bits of meat from the platter. Esperanza was having a time shooing them away.

Faith spotted Luke lounging next to the stone fireplace. He was staring straight at her, and she suddenly felt like a sparrow coming face-to-face with a hungry cat. His gaze scorched her from head to toe. Form-fitting buckskin breeches hugged his muscular thighs like a second skin, disappearing into delicately beaded, knee-high moccasins. Fringe swayed slightly as he crossed one foot over the other. Never taking his eyes from her face, he slowly lifted his glass tumbler to his lips and drank.

Faith straightened her shoulders and stiffened her spine. With determination, she lifted her chin, plastered a pleasant expression on her face and descended the stairs. He was even more stunningly handsome in his native clothes. She tried to keep her eyes from his face, his body, his all-too-sure-of-himself expression. Surely someone must notice how strangely the two of them were acting.

“Look, everyone, Faith’s here,” Charity called out, skipping over and gathering Faith in an enthusiastic embrace.

Luke raised his glass. “A toast to the guest of honor,” he said, light sarcasm lacing his voice.

Faith glanced at the others, who clapped and cheered, people who had become so very dear to her. Confusion held her immobile.

“What is this?” she finally managed to say.

“It’s a party for you. In honor of you, and to thank you,” Flood explained. “We wanted to wait until Rachel and the baby could join us before throwing it. We’re very grateful and indebted to you for what you did for her. For all of us.”

A hush descended over the group as Matt stood and approached, carrying his tiny little baby girl. “Would you like to hold Faith Elizabeth McCutcheon?”

The baby, who was sleeping in her father’s arms, woke when he handed her over. She fussed a little and then started rooting around at Faith’s breast, looking for something to eat. Everyone laughed.

Everyone except Luke. As she glanced his way, pain, regret, and something akin to anger stormed across his face. He got up and strode to the small table with the decanter and refilled his glass.

“What do you think of her, Faith?” Amy asked, looking down at the baby. “Isn’t she sweet?”

“Yes, she is.” Faith barely got the words past the lump in her throat. “Adorable. But you really shouldn’t have named her after me.”

“Nonsense. It’s because of you that she’s here right now,” Rachel said. Her eyes were filled with tears of gratitude. “I’ll never, ever, be able to thank you enough. We’re going to call her Beth for short.”

To Faith’s relief, Billy and Adam started arguing, and most everyone’s attention turned to them. Colton made his way through the group to stand at Faith’s side.

“How are you, Colton?” she asked. “This is the first I’ve seen of you all day.”

“Fine, Ma,” Colton said, standing on tiptoe so he could see Beth. “I stayed out at the corrals with Smokey and Roady. They was teachin’ us boys ta throw a rope. I almost had the hang of it, too.”

He was thriving here, her little boy with the giant chip on his shoulder. All the attention from the men was good for him, making him happier than she’d ever known him to be. Colton’s smile had returned a few days ago, and now that it was back, he wasn’t selfish with sharing it. How would he hold up when they made the trip back to their old home, and how would he feel about the change? Everything the future held for them was just so uncertain.

“What’s wrong, Ma?”

Faith knelt down and hugged him with her free arm. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just happy you’re enjoying our visit so much.”

“I am. I like it here a lot. I don’t even mind Luke so much no more.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. He’s usually right with whatever he tells me, and Francis said he learned everything he knows from Luke. I guess he ain’t so bad.”

Faith nodded and stood.

Flood appeared. “Here, let me take Beth from you. You have enough baby-holding every day, what with Dawn,” he said, smiling.

Faith carefully placed the infant in his large arms. Here was the man she’d believed was Luke’s father. Now, as she looked a little closer, she was amazed she’d ever assumed that, because they looked nothing alike. Feeling uneasy, she glanced over her shoulder to find Luke watching. His expression was clear: he knew that she’d been comparing them.

“That Luke, he’s a handsome lad. Don’t you think so, Faith?”

Her heart felt as if it just might pop. Did Flood know about the two of them? Had Luke said something to him? “Why, yes I do,” she admitted. What else could she say?

“He’ll make a fine catch one day for some lucky young lady. Why, it’s a nuisance to take him to town, what with the women and all. Makes no difference if they’re married or not. He’s an attention-getter, all right.”

Flood was sweet. But Luke would be furious if he knew what his father was up to.

“Is that so?” she said, laughing a little, smiling at Flood brightly and then glancing purposely over her shoulder. She made eye contact with the subject of their conversation, who frowned.

“Yes, it’s been that way since he was just a boy,” Flood continued, warming to the subject.

“Tell me, Mr. McCutcheon, what was he like as a child? I wonder at his moods sometimes.”

This clearly threw Mr. McCutcheon. A tiny line of worry creased his brow, and Faith almost regretted asking.

“He does have times when he’s in deep thought, but that’s all that they are. Why, he outgrew his temper and fighting days years ago.” Seemingly a bit embarrassed, Flood cleared his throat and went on. “That is, except for this last fracas with Mr. Brown. Got a worthy heart, he does.”

Luke appeared. “What are you two so deep in conversation about?”

Faith looked innocently to Flood. The older man actually beamed. “You.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “That so? And just what exactly were you saying?”

“Your father was telling me—”

“Dinner is served.” Mrs. McCutcheon clapped her hands as she called them all to eat. Everyone moved eagerly to the dining table, which was laden with all manner of dishes.

Luke pulled out Faith’s chair for her, and she couldn’t help but notice the fluid grace of his actions. He was like some kind of wild animal, dangerous and hard, especially in this dark mood. Her hand itched to reach out and test the softness of his lovely buckskin pants, which clung to his body indecently, and the contrast between his white shirt and the darkness of his skin. She looked away, ashamed at the way her thoughts kept running wild.

Grace was said and the food passed around. Luke was quiet, but if anyone noticed they didn’t mention it. The most talkative were the boys, who entertained everyone with their stories of their day learning to rope and trying to ride some of the motherless calves kept close to the barn.

A knock on the door interrupted Billy, who had them all laughing. Flood stood and went to see who it was.

“Come in, come in,” his voice rang out. He came back with a young man Faith had never seen. Mrs. McCutcheon smiled brightly and gestured for him to sit.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the man said.

“Nonsense, Brandon. There’s plenty here. I’d be hurt if you didn’t join us.”

Faith noticed the look that passed between the newcomer and Luke, after the fellow’s first shock at seeing Luke’s black eye.

“Thank you, I don’t mind if I do,” he said with a smile. “It’s been too long since I’ve had Esperanza’s cooking.”

The maid quickly set an extra place while the broad-shouldered fellow hung his coat and hat by the door. When he took a seat across the table from Faith, she couldn’t help but smile a welcome.

Flood made the introductions. “Faith, this is Brandon Crawford. He’s the sheriff of Y Knot. Brandon, this is Faith Brown, who’s staying here at the ranch for a spell. And that tough-lookin’ hombre down at the end of the table is Colton, her son.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am,” Brandon said politely. He nodded to Colton.

Faith wondered what the handsome lawman and Luke were up to. “The pleasure is mine.”

She watched Brandon’s eyes skim down the row of faces and stop on Charity. He nodded slightly.

Charity’s cheeks turned rosy.

Matt took a heaping scoop of potatoes and passed the dish along. “So, Brandon, what brings you out our way this evening?”

“I have a little news concerning your dead bull calf.” He took a drink from his water glass. “But it can wait until after dinner. Nothin’ urgent.”

Faith wanted him to go on. She felt it would indeed concern her. Or was she just being foolish? The men seemed to accept the lawman’s appeal to wait for later, dishing up food and eating heartily.

“Congratulations on your new young’un, Matt,” Brandon said. “Doc says you got yourself a little girl this time.”

“I sure did. She’s over there sleeping by the fire. You’ll have to take a look when you’re done eating.”

L
uke broke apart
a biscuit and popped half in his mouth. He glanced at Charity, who ate slowly, the picture of refinement. What a time for Brandon to show up. How would Charity receive Brandon after what he’d told her a few days ago about the sheriff being involved with the schoolteacher’s niece?

She looked at him now, a silent challenge in her eyes. Luke slowly shook his head. A smile he knew all too well appeared on her face. Trouble was brewing.

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