OUT OF THE DARKNESS (THE PRESCOTT SERIES) (8 page)

“Fine,” Jason replied as
she left the room with a basin of warm water. She was up to something.

H
e chuckled at the sly way she’d maneuvered him. Not only did he have to ask intrusive questions of their guest, she left him to cook supper, too. He stood, adjusted himself, and laughed again. His sister didn’t know it, but he’d never have gotten up if she’d still been in the room. He winced, then again, maybe she did. Her smile had been just a bit on the naughty side.

Margaret smiled as she entered the
bedroom with the freshly washed and ironed garments on her arm and gripping a pitcher of warm water. The girl was awake and stared at her with those big green eyes, but didn’t say a word. Margaret thought the girl would be curious enough to ask where she was, but she didn’t.

Laying the gowns
at the end of the bed, she placed the water on the washbasin then hung the dresses in the armoire.

“I draped a curtain across the corn
er by the wash basin if you’d like to sponge off before getting dressed. There are clean undergarments on the table beside the basin, also.” Her scheme wouldn’t work if the girl stayed in the bedroom all the time. She kept her back to the room and heard the girl climb out of bed. Margaret peeked over her shoulder and saw her walk slowly behind the curtain.

“If you woul
d try on one of the dresses I can make the necessary adjustments so they will fit you? However, tonight we will have to make do with one of the nightgowns and my robe.” An inner chuckle vibrated in her chest. She couldn’t wait to see Jason’s reaction to the girl in dishabille.

Hearing no response, Margaret turned to find the object of her hastily devised scheme standing behind her. The girl resembled a fragile porcelain doll.
Margaret’s gaze roamed over their guest’s petite frame, elfin face, round little stomach and hoped she hadn’t made a mistake. This was the solution to Jason and the girl’s problems if they’d just realize it.

If the
girl was all alone with no one to care for her, she needed someone. She was a pretty, little mite, and no one in their right mind would let her be missing for long without conducting a diligent search, yet no one had come around looking for her.

More than one
couple had entered into marriage for the sake of expediency. Ira Johnson, the owner of the apothecary had married his wife, Ella, to help raise her two sons after three days acquaintance. Ira and Ella were one of the happiest couples she knew. It gave her hope for the plan she had for Jason and this lost waif.

“Feeling be
tter?” When no answer was forthcoming, Margaret held out a dress for her to slip over her head so she could measure the necessary alterations. Quiet thing, Margaret mused. Oh well, Jason wasn’t much of a talker, either.

She
measured, pinned, and adjusted until she achieved the desired results, then cautiously helped the girl out of the dress to avoid poking her with a pin. Margaret held out a thin –the thinnest she could find–nightgown for her to wear. The nightgown fell to the floor and draped around her curves like a second skin. Margaret held out the large robe. It fell off her shoulders exposing the thin nightgown beneath. Mmm…. Seductive. Just the look she wanted. Picking up a brush, she combed the girl’s long tresses, wanting the red color to shine and glisten in the candlelight.

“Ready?” she asked. “I’m sure Jason has supper ready by now and the children are most likely up and driving him crazy.” Margaret surveyed
her creation with a critical eye. Yes, the robe was just large enough to tempt and tantalize without being obvious.

T
he girl glanced down at her nightclothes, then up to Margaret’s face. Apprehension filled her eyes. Margaret almost felt guilty. Almost, but not quite.

“You’re fine dear. It’s just family
, and after supper you can go right back to bed.” With that settled Margaret pushed, cajoled, and shoved the reluctant girl out of the room.

As she suspected, Tyler stood beside Jason bombarding him with questions.
Jason turned to put food on the hot pads on the table and had to sidestep Emma who crawled under the table to get away from Janey. Janey dropped down on all fours and scooted in beside her.

“Come on children let’s take our places at the table.” She snatched Emma up and Janey
clutched at Margaret’s skirt to raise herself from the floor.

Jason took
his seat at the end of the table. She placed Tyler to his left, knowing he would demand most of his uncle’s attention, taking it away from Emma on his right. She insisted the ‘girl’ take the seat, which she, Margaret, regularly occupied next to Emma. Janey sat beside Tyler. She slid into the chair opposite the end of Jason, which offered her a perfect view of him and their guest.

Emma
sat on a large pan in a chair with a drying towel tied around her middle. The baby needed constant attention to make sure she didn’t slide out, and to help her eat. Margaret wanted to see how the girl would react to the child. If they failed to respond to one another, she would have to abandon her idea.

She
sat back and waited for the entertainment to begin.

Ja
son bowed his head, said grace, then passed bowls of food around the table. He helped himself to several spoons of whipped potatoes, placed some on Emma’s plate, and then passed it to the ‘girl’. The poor girl tried to hold the loose robe together at the neck with one hand and grasp the bowl with the other. Margaret nearly choked on her laughter when their fingers touched, and Jason well nigh dropped the bowl. Modesty forgotten, the girl grabbed the bowl with both hands to keep it air borne, which left her bodice to gap wide open. Jason gulped, and Margaret suppressed a hearty chuckle. Jason couldn’t take his eyes off the front of the girl’s bodice where the thin nightgown revealed a deep cleavage and outlined her full bosom.

The poor dear
looked mortified when she realized the direction of Jason’s glazed stare. When she had a secure grip on the bowl, she clutched the robe tighter and passed Margaret the potatoes.

Oh, this was such fun w
atching Jason squirm like a worm at the end of a fishing line, and it was only going to get better, or worse, whichever point of view you were looking at it from.

As t
he meal progressed, Margaret chattered about life on the ranch, the children, and their antics, and pretended to be oblivious to Jason’s grunts and the girl’s muteness.

Margaret
studied the would-be-bride as she silently helped Emma with her peas. She wiped Emma’s little chin free of food, that had oozed from of her mouth, when she grinned. The baby didn’t easily take to strangers, but she didn’t appear to be afraid of this one.

Jason
stared at their guest and something intense flared in his eyes. Did he hope to get another glimpse inside the bodice the girl clutched tight? As for the girl, she peered out the corner of her eye at Jason without moving her head.

Neat trick
, that.

The one time their
gazes collided, the air sizzled with so much heat Margaret jumped up from the table so fast she startled everyone. It was either that or let the amusement show in her face, and that would never do. She grabbed a damp cloth and cleaned Emma’s hands and face.

“I’ll take her.”
Jason stuffed his last bite of food into his mouth, scooted back from the table, and held out his hands. Emma gave a happy squeal and leaped into her father’s arms.

Sitting
in his favorite chair, with Emma on his lap and Tyler and Janey on the floor, Jason read them a story. Margaret was amazed he could keep the lines straight as many times as he glanced up at the girl who had risen to help with the dishes.

As much as Margaret want
ed her to stay, the girl appeared ready to drop, exhaustion written all over her pale face.

“Here now, you let m
e clean this mess,” she told her mute companion. “You go on to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning.” A silent protest sparkled in her green eyes, and she shook her head. Margaret patted her shoulder. “You’ll feel like doing more in a few days.” Margaret ushered her toward her bedroom.

The children were asleep
by the time she set the kitchen to rights. They always dozed off faster when Jason read to them. He carried each to their beds and joined Margaret at the table for a cup of coffee.

“You didn’t ask the girl very many questions at supper, in fact, I don’t remember a one. Did you find out all you needed to know?” Margaret teased.

“What do you mean by that?”

Had his cheeks turned pink?

“Oh, nothing.” This was better than she could have hoped for. Jason was attracted to the girl. Many marriages began with necessity, more often than love. She and John were two of the lucky ones. But, she felt in her heart that her bother and the girl could be as lucky if they’d just tried.

“Well I couldn’t get a word in
edgewise, you jabbered so much,” Jason grumbled.

“You can talk to h
er all you want to tomorrow. I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed. Goodnight. See you in the morning.” Margaret stepped closer, kissed his cheek and left, silently chuckling at the wary look on his face.

Jade leaned against the closed door and felt like the most-wicked person on earth. Margaret had been so nice to her, and all Jade could do was stare at her handsome husband. Dark hair coiled around his ears and the nape of his neck, and she wanted to run her fingers through the ebony strands to straighten the curled ends. His face was lean, nose thin, and a hint of dimples in each cheek when he smiled. Sensuous lips curved into a smile often: each time one child or the other drew his attention by their antics, he laughed. Dark, thick eyebrows slashed across his strong forehead, while long, dark lashes outlined his deep, blue eyes, eyes the color of a bright summer sky. He had the type of face that would grow more distinguished with the passage of time.

Each time his gaze
had met hers, her whole body had overreacted. Pressure from within had squeezed the air from her lungs and left no room for her pounding heart in the constricted space. When he’d touched her hand, she’d felt as if lightning had sizzled across her nerve endings then settled in the hollow spot low in her stomach.

Taking off the robe, she threw it across the end of the bed and sank onto the soft mattress. Could she be
the kind of wanton woman who lured husbands away from their wives? She didn’t want to believe she was, but what did she really know about herself. Her mind was as blank as a clean sheet of paper.

And poor Margaret, had she
noticed how often the loose bodice of the robe had snagged her husband’s attention. Jade pinched her lips into a tight line. Perhaps he was a philanderer. All evening, Margaret had tried to suppress an amused smile as if she were use to her husband’s wandering eye, but had every confidence he would never act on his interest.

At least, t
he children were well behaved, and the baby, Emma, was so sweet. Her hand drifted down to her taut stomach swollen with her child. Was her child the results of a liaison with another woman’s husband, a lover, or a husband of her own? Sometimes the vivid image of a young, blond-haired, man would coax its way into the murky edges of her memory, only to dissipate before she recognized him. Who was he? Where was he? Most of all, what was he to her? Brother? Lover? Husband? Her gaze fell to her bare hand clenched in the soft folds of her borrowed gown. No ring and no white line to indicate she’d ever worn one.

Shadows
gathered in the room as she contemplated the mystery of her past. Crawling into bed, she pulled the covers up and tucked them firmly beneath her chin. Not from the cold, but to ward off the darkness that stole over her while she slept.

Why couldn’t
she remember? What had stolen her ability to speak? Fear, stark and vivid swept through her. She wasn’t ready to face the reality of what had happened to her. Not yet. She blinked, trying to fight exhaustion. Darkness would claim her if she closed her eyes. Sleep held the haunting memories she couldn’t remember when awake. Terror rippled between her shoulder blades as the dark shadows stole over her.

Her wounded spirit
hovered between darkness and light. She longed for the voice. Her hand reached out to search for the warm fingers that had held hers the night before. It was her anchor, her lifeline. She whimpered.

The voice came
, and a strong grip curled around her hand as whispers in the night drove her fear away. Taut muscles loosened, her fingers released her death grip on the covers. The soft timbre of the voice soothed her, lulled her, until the darkness held no more specters of a past she couldn’t remember.

Morning
light streamed through the window. Arms stretched over her head, Jade yawned. How long had it been since she’d felt this rested. She climbed out of bed and found a newly hemmed dress at the foot. Someone had placed fresh water in the basin. She washed and dressed quickly.

She
walked silently into the room. Margaret stood at the sink, humming as she washed dishes. Her husband and children were outside somewhere. Jade could hear childish giggles along with male laughter. His laughter was deep, spontaneous.