Jane Bonander (10 page)

After the excitement of the first catch died down, they were quiet again. Nate felt Corey’s eyes on him.

“What is it, boy?”

“Corey like sleeping by the fire.” His voice was timid.

Nate hid a grin. Corey’s
l
’s were
y
’s, like Jackson’s,
like
coming out “yike.” “So you like sleeping in my bedroll?”

Corey nodded. “Can Corey sleep there again?”

“Hmmmm. You’ll have to ask your mama, Corey. I do have one rule, though. You want to know what it is?”

Corey gave him a sober nod.

“Nobody who wears diapers can use my bedroll.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the boy’s expression.

Corey looked down at his overalls, his face crestfallen. “Corey wears diapers.”

“I see that,” Nate answered. “But does Corey have to?” He could almost see the wheels churning in Corey’s head.

All of a sudden, Corey gave him a determined glance and shook his head. “Corey no have to wear diapers.”

Swallowing a smile, Nate ruffled Corey’s hair. “Tell you what, Corey. Why don’t we go over behind that bush. I’ll show you what to do.”

Nate could no longer hold in his smile as Corey hopped up from the log and tugged at his clothes. His bottom was already bare by the time they got to the bushes.

Susannah put the lunch basket on the ground and pressed her trembling fingers to her mouth. She’d almost called out to them when she heard Nathan talking to Corey about diapers and his bedroll.

As she’d listened to him, she marveled at the ease with which he did something that to her was so difficult. She remembered his comment about his own son and again wondered what had happened. How selfish she’d been, so wrapped up in her own past that she hadn’t given a thought to his. She vowed to ask him about his son, but as she thought about it, she wondered if it was something too painful for him to talk about.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling as they rounded the bush. Nathan held Corey’s diaper by the corner, and Corey swaggered along behind, no doubt feeling a new freedom in his overalls.

“Now,” Nathan said, “it’s all fine and good to do that in the bushes when it’s an emergency, but—”

“’Mergency?” Corey interrupted.

“Yeah. When you can’t make it back to the house or the ’necessary’ in time. When we return, we’ll give the ol’ chamber pot a try.”

“I go pee in the chamber pot!”

“That’s the plan.” Nathan rinsed the diaper in the river.

Susannah kicked at some twigs as she walked toward them, announcing her arrival. She had the handle of the lunch basket over her arm. Corey saw her first.

“Mama! Mama! I catched a fish and I learned to pee standing up!” His cheeks were rosy and his eyes glistened.

Susannah had never seen him so exuberant. Tears stung her eyes, and she realized they were tears of joy.

“All that?” she managed to say. “You’ve done all that since you got here?”

Nathan turned and gave her a careful look. He rung out the diaper and laid it on the boulder. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said.

Mind? How could she mind? “No. I. . . I don’t mind, really.” She felt herself blush. “If you must know the truth, I’ve been trying to think of a way to . . . to do that for months.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “I kind of thought so.”

She shifted her gaze from him and stared at the river. “Was it that obvious?”

“No, it wasn’t that. I . . .” He sighed and slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, innocently drawing them tightly over his crotch.

Susannah’s gaze dropped to the blatant bulge behind his fly. Instead of feeling the familiar sensation of revulsion, she felt a warmth burrow deep into her belly, then spread open like warm nectar bursting from a flower.

Clearing her throat, she looked away. “Yes? You were saying?”

He also cleared his throat and raked his fingers through his hair. “I remember how it is. I had a little boy once, and it was my job to train
him
, too.”

“Corey hungry, Mama.” Corey started rummaging through the lunch basket.

Susannah pulled out a chicken drumstick left over from the night before and handed it to him, grateful to have him quiet. She spread a blanket over the grass.
“What . . . what happened to your son?”

Nathan sat and leaned against a tree. He was still for so long, Susannah was afraid he wasn’t going to answer her.

“He died.”

She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh . . . oh, I’m so sorry . . .” A wealth of tears tightened in her throat. How on God’s earth does one live with that kind of pain? She couldn’t imagine . . . She didn’t
want
to imagine . . .

“It happened while I was away, fighting the Confederacy. My wife and . . . and my son were out gathering berries. They were killed by marauding Indians.”

Pain stung her eyes, and she knew it was tears. “Oh, Nathan. How awful.” She studied him, searching for his agony. It was there, thinly veiled behind a blank stare. “How . . . how long has it been?”

He put a blade of grass between his teeth. “Five years.”

She shook her head, unable to totally understand. “I . . . I can’t imagine what . . . what you must feel . . .”

He appeared to study a spot in the distance. “They’re up there, on the other side of the mountains.”

Susannah followed his gaze. “They’re buried up there?”

Nathan dove his fingers through his thick hair again, then rested against the tree. “Judith, my wife, is buried up north of here, near the Oregon border, outside a little town called Broken Jaw. I have land there. A ranch. It’s where we lived.” He let out a strangled sound, but when he spoke again, he was in control. “I didn’t even get the chance to bury her myself. I wasn’t there for her.”

Susannah remembered the death of her mother—the last person to die that she loved. It was no longer painful, just a filmy distant memory. She thought about the Hatfields and the love they had for each other. The look on Nathan’s face told her he’d felt that kind of love, too. “You . . . you loved her very much.”

Again, he was quiet. Finally, he said, “Yes. She was a sweet, loving woman.”

Sweet. Loving.
Her chest hurt, and for some stupid reason she felt like crying. She knew why. He, like the Hatfields, had experienced something she would never know. Plainly, she was jealous.

“And your son?”

Again, Nathan was quiet for a long time. “My son, Jackson, was never found. They think . . .” He took a harsh breath. “They think his body was dragged away by coyotes. There was . . . there was blood . . .”

Susannah cried out, his words stabbing her like knives. She could hardly speak, the horror of such a thing too much for her to bear. “Oh, N-Nathan,” she said on a heavy, shaky sigh.

Her glance went to Corey, whose face and hands were smeared with chicken grease, and she felt a love that went so deep, her heart ached with each thundering beat. She would rather die a thousand painful deaths than see any harm come to her son.

She also had a new respect for Nathan.

“Mama, big man teached me to pee standing up,” Corey chirped, unaware of the tension around him.

“Yes, dear, I heard.” She tried to act calm as she wiped his hands and face, but talking about such intimacies with Nathan present made her blush, anyway. She spread out the picnic on the blanket.

Corey stood and squirmed, pressing his legs together. “Gotta pee again,” he said, his little face pinched with discomfort.

Nathan was on his feet immediately. “I’m right behind you, whistler man.”

She watched them disappear behind the bushes, feeling useless. She could hear Nathan’s patient instructions, and felt a catch in her throat. In so many little ways she was truly grateful he’d come into their lives.

She pulled off a piece of chicken and picked at it, not really tasting it.

Corey rounded the bush, his little swagger intact. Susannah was so proud of him she wanted to squeeze him.

“Well,” she said, filled with so much joy she was close to tears, “now you can finally wear your big boy underpants, sweetheart.”

“Yeah.” His eyes sparkled with pride. “An’ you know what, Mama? You know what?”

His enthusiasm was catchy. “What,” Susannah asked, unable to keep from grinning back at him.

“Big man have big thing and Corey have little one.”

Heat flooded Susannah’s face. “That’s . . . that’s . . .”

“Wanna see hims big one, Mama? Wanna see?”

Still blushing, Susannah threw a nervous glance at Nathan, who appeared to study the river with grave intensity.

“No! No, Corey. That’s all right. Here, darling,” she said, digging into the basket in the hopes of changing the subject, “have a cookie. Have two, sweetheart. Do you want some lemonade?”

She sneaked a peek at Nathan again. He gave her an embarrassed, lopsided smile. She tried to smile, but her lips were all wobbly.

“I’m afraid I’ve created a monster,” he said around a smile.

Susannah didn’t know what to say, so said nothing. She nervously popped pieces of a cookie into her mouth, then discovered, to her dismay, that her mouth was so dry she couldn’t swallow them.

“He’s made a big discovery, Susannah. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Nervous perspiration prickled under her arms, on her forehead and at the back of her neck. She needed to change the subject. When she was able to swallow the wad of cookie crumbs in her mouth, she said, “He should really learn not to talk about such things in front of people.”

“No, Susannah, don’t make him feel it’s a bad thing. It’s natural for him to be intrigued with it for a while. If you punish him, or scold him when he talks about it, it will only make him that much more curious. Let it go. Ignore it. He’ll get over it and find something else more interesting.”

She tried to think about it as rationally as he had. She knew he could very well be right, but her past intruded, sending her different messages. She willed herself to stop thinking about the day she’d found Harlan bending over Corey. She wanted to do the right thing. And at this moment, Nathan’s suggestion seemed right.

“Well,” she said, intent on changing the subject, “isn’t it about time for the two of you to catch some more fish?”

Nathan touched her hand. “Susannah? I want you to promise me something.”

Her hand tingled beneath his. “If I can.”

“If you should ever need to leave here for any reason—”

“What do you mean?” she interrupted, feeling herself tense.

“If you ever need me and I’m not here, come to Broken Jaw. I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

She pulled her hand away and turned toward the river. “Why . . . why would I need to get away?”

He didn’t explain. “Just remember what I said, Susannah.”

She would remember, but she wondered why he’d mentioned it in the first place.

C
orey was dry for the rest of the day. As night infringed upon them, Susannah’s gaze was driven to Nathan’s bedroll, which was rolled up and leaning against the wall by the fireplace.

And Nathan had fixed her sewing machine. He’d unscrewed the screw that kept the wheel in place and pulled out the delinquent piece of cloth. How simple it had been, and how easily he’d done it. She’d had to hide her feelings, for again, he was the first man to do something for her and not ask anything in return.

She’d just finished sewing a long seam in a pretty flowered print dress for one of Lillian’s customers when she heard Nathan’s voice outside, and Corey’s answering laughter. Putting the dress aside, she went to the window and watched them come through the dimming light, Corey atop Nathan’s shoulders, clinging to his hair

A yearning settled near Susannah’s heart—a greedy desire for something she had no right to wish for. But she couldn’t help it. Nathan was the kind of father Corey should have had. A bittersweet, pulsing joy swept through her as she watched them together. She’d never been in love, she wasn’t even sure how it should feel. But there was such a craving inside her. Such sweet, painful pleasure, something so impossible to describe, she knew it could be nothing else.

As they stepped onto the porch, Susannah hurried from the window and busied herself with Corey’s nightclothes.

The door opened, and Corey scrambled inside. “Mama! Mama! Big man make me a el’fant!”

Susannah looked at the smooth wood carving with the large ears, intricate tusks and skinny tail. “Why, Corey! What a wonderful toy. You be very careful with it, won’t you?”

“Corey sleep with it.”

Susannah found Nathan watching her, his eyes warm.

“When did you have time to make that?” She knew her own eyes spilled with gratitude.

He shrugged. “At night, when I couldn’t sleep.”

Reality hammered at her silly thoughts of being in love. She remembered that he had sleepless nights, too. His dreams were different. Sweeter, no doubt. Dreams of his wife and child. Not nightmares about bloody scissors and dead eyes . . .

With effort, she shrugged off her mood. “It’s time for bed, Corey.” He insisted on undressing himself and even went into her bedroom to use the convenience pail. Susannah decided it would be wise to put it in his room.

He went to Nathan, who sat at the table, and crawled into his lap. “Can Corey sleep in big man’s sleeping roll?”

Susannah gasped. “Corey!”

Nathan ruffled Corey’s hair. “Tell you what, little whistler man, you stay dry for three nights,” he said, holding up three fingers, “and we’ll talk about it again.”

Corey touched Nathan’s big fingers. “I can count to three,” he said, the
three
sounding like “free.” He got to his knees and gave Nathan Wolfe a kiss on the cheek.

Susannah had to turn away. Corey’s reaction to Nathan, especially the kiss, made her wish for things she knew wouldn’t come true. Fairy-tale endings. They hurt. Oh, they hurt, these silly little daydreams she painted in her head. But it wasn’t Nathan’s fault. She knew that both she and Corey were starved for affection. She also knew that it wasn’t Nathan Wolfe’s responsibility to do anything about it.

“Come along, Corey,” she said, hiding her emotion, “Mama will tell you a story.”

After Corey was tucked into bed, she returned and found Nathan still sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee. Again, she felt the longing, the quest for something she’d never had.

He stood, drawing in a long sigh. “Well, I guess I should head for town.”

An urgent panic hit her. “You . . . you’re leaving?”

His expression was hooded. “You want me to stay?”

She toyed with the buttons at her neck, slipping them in and out of the holes. “I . . . it seems so foolish for you to ride all the way into town, then have to . . . to come back out here in the morning anyway to work on the porch.”

They stared at one another. Susannah felt her heart pound against her ribs and her face flush with heat.

“I guess I could sleep outside, or in the shed.”

Her hands twitched, and she wrung them together to still them. “That’s . . . that’s really not necessary.” She held her breath.

“You want me to sleep in the house?” His question was cautious.

She motioned to the fireplace. “Where you slept last night is fine. Unless—” Oh, dear lord. “Unless you already have a room in town with a bed. I mean, the floor is so hard—”

“The floor is fine, Susannah. I’m used to it. Hell, I haven’t slept in a bed for so long, I don’t—” He cleared his throat and turned to prepare the fire for the night. “The floor is fine.”

Susannah went into her room, closed the door and leaned against it, her body humming. She looked at her bed, wondering what it would be like to find him there, waiting for her. Her knees nearly buckled, and she dropped into the rocking chair near the window and started unbuttoning her dress.

She continued to stare at the bed, imagining Nathan Wolfe in it, the quilt folded down to his waist, his chest bare and warm. . . .

She shuddered and tried to shake away the delicious tremors in her stomach, but she discovered that she liked the feelings. Still, her imagination couldn’t go any further. She wasn’t sure if she was unwilling or unable to see beyond the image of him in her bed.

She stood and slipped out of her dress and her petticoat, then went to the mirror and studied her reflection.

Shocked, she found her eyes bright and her cheeks pink. She brought her fingers to her face and traced her skin. It was clear. No bruises. As she pulled the pins from her hair, she wondered what Nathan saw when he looked at her. She wasn’t pretty. Ma Walker had always told her the least she could do when she worked outside in the garden was to wear a bonnet to protect her hair and her face from the sun. But she never had. Therefore, during the summer her hair often had a reddish cast to it, and she always had unattractive freckles across her nose.

She dragged her fingers through her hair, examining the color as it fell over her shoulders. It wasn’t a color that would attract a man. And her eyes . . . She made a face at herself. All the really pretty women in the world had blue eyes. Yes, blue eyes and blond hair. Her eyes were too big. And too brown. And her lashes were so dark, they reminded her of a cartoon drawing of a cow she’d seen in a newspaper ad for fresh milk.
Drink milk from Daisy, the cow with the healthy udders.

Screwing up her nose, she gazed at her chest. She’d felt like Daisy when she’d been pregnant with Corey. She unhooked her camisole and realized that even when she wasn’t pregnant, she had unfashionably large breasts. She was no dainty, blue-eyed blond, that was for certain.

She glanced in the mirror again and felt a bubble of laughter, or maybe hysteria, in her throat. She didn’t recognize herself. For so long, she’d felt ugly.
Been
ugly, all battered and sore. She touched her jaw, then her neck, tracing her collarbones, stopping at that hollow that pulsed beneath her skin. Her wrist touched her breast, making it tingle, and she gasped, shocked at how sensitive her nipple was.

Shivering, she hurried out of her underwear, again gasping with shocked pleasure as her drawers slightly grazed the place between her thighs. She pulled on her nightgown, turned down her lamp and crawled into bed, her eyes riveted on the door.

The next forenoon, Susannah stood on the porch, fanning herself with an old folded up newspaper as she watched Nathan work, bare to the waist, in the sun. Sweat streamed over him, and his shoulders were turning a dark shade of pink

Her idle gaze lingered. She never tired of gazing at him.

“Gettin’ pretty hot out here.” He stopped working and wiped his forehead with a bandana he’d pulled from his back pocket.

She acted casual. “Up here, the October sun can be as dangerous as the sun in August.” With the newspaper, she gestured toward his shoulders. “You’re burning.”

Shaking his head, he picked up the saw he’d been using and leaned it against the tree. “I never burn.”

“Hmmmm,” she answered. “Well, then that must be pink paint on your shoulders.”

He chuckled, a sound she’d come to love. “Don’t worry about it.”

She pushed herself away from the sturdy new porch pillar, descended the new steps and walked toward him. “Whatever you say. Just don’t come crying to me tonight when your shoulders are so tender you can’t sleep.”

He stood, feet apart and fists on hips, examining her approach, a tiny smile on his lips. “Can’t I?”

Her heart did a little dipping dance before settling back in her chest. There it was again, that teasing. She felt herself blush, still unable to respond to it.

“Corey, um . . . I thought that maybe when Corey wakes up from his nap, we could take our lunch and eat it by the river. It’s . . . it’s cooler down there.”

He wiped his dripping hair with the bandana, drawing Susannah’s gaze to the thatch of dark hair under his arm. A little jolt of electricity rocked her, and she looked away.

“Sounds perfect,” he answered. “I’ll be done here by the time you’re ready.”

She hurried into the cabin and put together a picnic lunch. Corey woke, still dry. Susannah hugged him hard, then scooted him toward the convenience pail.

They meandered through the brush toward the river, Max loping on ahead and Corey sitting on Nathan’s shoulders, his little tin pail gripped in his pudgy fist.

The minute Corey saw the shallow, swirling water near the warm spring, he started to undress, pulling his overall straps down and tugging at his shirt before Nathan even put him on the ground. And Susannah hadn’t even had the blanket on the grass before he was naked and scurrying toward the water.

Susannah felt stiff and self-conscious, but Nathan appeared comfortable and at ease, lolling against an oak tree, chewing on a blade of grass. Forcing herself to relax, she leaned back on her elbows and closed her eyes, drawing in deep, purposeful breaths to try to erase images of Nathan from her mind. As usual, it didn’t work.

And it wasn’t any cooler by the water than it had been at the cabin. She felt sticky. Still, it was nice to just relax on the blanket with her eyes closed—“Wha—!”

She sputtered and gasped as water hit her face, splashing over her neck and into her hair. She sat up, blinking and shaking her head. Corey stood in front of her, the empty tin pail dangling from his fingers.

“Corey cool Mama off.” His expression was open, as if he were waiting for her response.

Susannah noted the wide, wet circle on her bodice, then sneaked a glance at Nathan, who appeared to smother a grin.

“
You
convinced him to do this,” she scolded, not truly angry at all.

He radiated innocence, but his eyes shimmered. “Me? How could I have done it? I didn’t say a word. Did you hear me say anything, whistler man?”

Corey giggled and squirmed, clapping his hands at his mother’s animated reaction.

Blowing on a wet strand of hair, Susannah saw Nathan’s grin before he coughed and covered his mouth. “You don’t sound very innocent.”

He gave her an expansive shrug and studied the bushes on the banks upstream.

She caught Corey’s gaze, pressed a finger to her lips and took the pail from him as he splashed back into the water. With an air of nonchalance, she wandered to the water’s edge, bent and scooped water into the pail. Holding it behind her, she gave Nathan a sweet smile as he turned his glance to her again.

He stepped back, suspicious. “Isn’t it about time for lunch?”

“Not
yet
,” she said, tossing the water into his face.

“Why, you little—” He chuckled and reached for her, but Susannah scampered away, shrieking with laughter until he caught up with her.

He hoisted her into his arms and strode straight to the river.

“Oh, no, no, no,” she said, squirming in his arms. “Not in the water,
please
, don’t throw me into the water!”

“It’s what you deserve, you devious little witch.” He waded in until the water was at his knees. “You’re at my mercy, now.”

Another bubble of laughter escaped, then she looked up at him and grew very still. His green eyes, his crooked nose, his scarred forehead, which she’d wanted to touch again as she had that night he’d put her fingers there to trace it . . . his lopsided smile, all there so close. He smelled good, too. Not the rancid, choking smell she’d come to equate with a man. And she was in his arms.
In his arms
. The tingling she’d felt in her breasts the night before returned as the air cooled over her wet bodice.

She broke her own fanciful mood by turning her gaze away to stare at the water.

“You wouldn’t throw me in, would you? I mean, I have shoes on and everything. You wouldn’t want to ruin my shoes.”

“No, I wouldn’t ruin your shoes,” he said, holding her easily in one arm.

She breathed a sigh, then felt his hand at her foot, sliding off her slippers. “Oh, no,” she pleaded, biting back a smile. “That would be cruel.”

His eyes were warm. “I guess it would, wouldn’t it?”

Relieved, she laughed softly. “Yes, it would. I don’t—”

He dropped her. The water oozed through her clothes, splashing into her face. She fell backward, her head disappearing under the water. She came up sputtering . . . to the sound of Corey’s and Nathan’s laughter. Max galloped in and pranced around her, yelping playfully.

Sitting in water to her waist, she pushed her hair off her face and out of her eyes. Once she could see again, she realized he was still standing over her. His eyes were warm and he had a wide, self-satisfied smile on his face.

She’d never seen this side of any man. Until Nathan, she’d never known that men actually teased and flirted and romped like children. She loved it. She was afraid she was starting to love him. “Think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?”

“Just trying to cool you off, Susannah.” He started for the shore, and Susannah lunged for him, grabbing his leg. He lost his balance and tumbled into the water, face first.

She laughed. Rich, healthy sounds that erupted from somewhere deep in her soul. It felt
wonderful
. Still laughing, she waited for him to get up and come after her again. Her laughter faded as she realized he hadn’t moved. He lay there, floating facedown in the water.