Prairie Wife (23 page)

"Are the doors locked?"

"Yes, ma'am, both of 'em."

He leaned over to kiss her lips, and she framed his face with both
hands, urgently meeting his rising desire with her own. She shifted her
attention to his shirt and went to work on the buttons, then unfastened his
trousers. Jesse shoved all his clothing off in a heap.

"The floor's too hard," he said. "I don't want to
hurt you."

"You won't hurt me."

But he didn't listen to her denial, and lay at her side instead.
The life inside her was too precious to risk harming for his momentary
pleasure.

Impatiently, she pushed against his shoulder until he lay back,
and then she rose to straddle his hips. She lowered herself onto him, her eyes
closing and her lips parting.

Jesse treasured making love this way, free to caress her hips and
breasts and to watch her artless reactions. Her skin flushed and the pulse at
her throat throbbed. When she looked down at him, her dark eyes were dreamy and
filled with passion.

She could make the lovin' so good that it took all his effort and
control to make it last. But he didn't want it to end and he desired to please
her, so he let her set the pace and take her pleasure, which she did with a
tightening of her body and a sharp intake of breath. She trembled all over, but
closed her eyes and smiled.

Jesse's body took over and he clutched her thighs and groaned as
he came. She caressed his belly, dragging her nails in lazy circles. Jesse sat
up, keeping her on his lap and hugging her. He pressed kisses against her
temple and cheek.

"I love you, Amy."

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face to his neck.
"Jesse," she whispered beneath his ear.

They held each other for a few minutes longer. Eventually he
helped her to her feet and wrapped a towel around her while he added another
kettle of hot water to the tub. They each took a quick turn washing, then
pulled on their clothing and walked hand in hand to the house.

Cay was seated at the trestle table with a book open in front of
him. He stood quickly. "I made you tea."

Jesse released her hand, and Amy took a seat on the bench beside
where Cay'd been and waited while he brought her a steaming mug.

"Sugar?" he asked.

"Please."

Cay's attentiveness amused Jesse, though he realized he'd been
fawnin' over her all evening, as well. He poured himself a lukewarm cup of
coffee and found a few cookies, which he shared.

Cay sat back down beside Amy. She glanced at the cover of his
book. "Did you start a new book on your own?"

"Yes'm. It's a good'un, too. Pirates and treasure." He
told her what had happened in the story so far. They discussed the characters
for a few minutes, but then the boy stood. "I can light my own lamp
tonight. I'll be goin' t'bed now."

Amy nodded. "Good night then."

"G'night, ma'am." He glanced over. "Jesse."

"Cay," Amy said softly. "I know you're nearly a
grown man and all, but maybe when no one's looking, like now, you could wish me
good night with a hug. Only if you'd like to, of course."

Cay's cheeks seemed to darken in the glow of the lanterns, but he
immediately leaned down to give Amy a clumsy, boyish hug.

When he'd gone upstairs, Jesse took Amy's mug and placed it with
his own beside the dishpan. "I have to go check the stables and
barns."

She stood. "I'm going to go out to the soddy and make sure
Rachel is doing okay."

He watched her walk to the sod house and enter, then he performed
his nightly check of the buildings and the storage locks and made sure all the
lanterns were extinguished.

Hermie was making a check of the animals, and Jesse stopped to
speak to him.

"The missus okay?" Hermie asked.

Jesse nodded. "You saw Gray put up soundly?"

"Watched Liscom padlock the door to that root cellar and
checked it myself. I went to check on him tonight and Liscom said he woke up
madder than a wet hen and pukin' his guts out. Gray's not goin' anywhere,
boss."

Assured, Jesse thanked him for standing by them that day and
wished him a good-night.

He met Amy on her way back to the house. He'd never felt the need
to check all the windows and doors, but he did so tonight, making certain they
were securely closed and locked.

Amy gave him a curious look, but said nothing. Upstairs she
brushed out her hair while he shucked off his clothing and climbed beneath the
covers. He stacked his hands behind his head and watched her.

"Cay was sure glad to have you home safe."

She removed the clothing she'd only recently donned, carefully
hanging each piece on a wall hook. "We had to get used to each other is
all." She opened a drawer and pulled out her nightgown.

"Forget that and come lie with me."

She held the gown against her breasts and looked at him.

"Come on," he urged.

"What if there's a fire?"

"A nightgown will protect you from a fire?"

"No, silly, but I'd have to run outside and I wouldn't want
to be..."

"Naked?"

"Yes."

If he lived to be a hundred, he'd never understand the workings of
a woman's mind. "We've never had a fire yet. We probably won't. So for
fifty years, you're going to lay here every night in your nightgown, just in
case?"

She shrugged. "I guess it does sound foolish when you put it
like that."

He threw back the sheet and patted the mattress. Amy tossed the
nightgown aside and climbed into bed with him. He wrapped the covers around
them and held her close. She felt so good in his arms. So right.

She reached up to touch his jaw and skim her fingertips across his
lips.

He kissed her fingers. "I hated thinkin' of you being scared
today."

She seemed to be mulling over his words. "I
was
afraid.
My head was filled with all manner of imaginings about what could happen. I
wanted to come up with a brilliant plan to alert you. At first he was going to
leave Rachel behind, but then, after I'd gone for the wagon, he brought her
anyway. I was actually more afraid for Rachel than for myself."

Jesse gave her a gentle squeeze. "That comes as no surprise
to me."

"Was my father in a state?"

"I'd never seen him that agitated. He feels responsible, you
know."

"I know."

Jesse wrapped her tightly in his embrace and enjoyed the silken
feel of her skin against his. It would take him a while to get over the fright
he'd experienced this day.

"I wouldn't have been able to bear it if anything had
happened to you." His voice came out thick and hoarse. She kissed his
chest.

"We've come so far these past months, Amy. I missed you so
much before, and I want to make up for lost time and rebuild what we
have." Several moments of silence passed before he spoke again. "If
he'd hurt you..." He drew his hand down and splayed it over her belly.
"If something had happened to the baby, Amy..."

Her body tensed almost immediately.

"We have a new beginning here," he whispered.

She withdrew, disentangling her legs from his, moving back several
inches. "What are you talking about?"

"The baby. I'm talkin' about the baby."

"Rachel's baby?"

"No, of course not. Our baby."

She grew very still. "We don't have a baby."

Confused at her reaction, Jesse leaned on one elbow and reached
again to place his hand over her stomach. "We do."

She sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. "Why are you
doing this?"

Fear, much like that he'd felt most of this awful day, weighed on
his chest. "Why am I doin' what?"

"Bringing this up. You have to leave the past where it is and
move forward, Jesse. All this talking you want to do is not helpful."

"I'm not talkin' about the past, I'm talkin' about now. About
the future. About the child right there in your belly." He gestured.

Amy jumped out of bed and found her nightgown, then yanked it over
her head. "I won't listen to this."

"Amy," he insisted.

"No! We are not having a baby! What's wrong with you?"

What was wrong with
him?
He got out on his side and moved
around the end of the bed. "Amy."

She shook her head and backed away. "Leave it alone,
Jesse."

Chill realization swept over him. She hadn't known. She hadn't
told him because she hadn't realized. Or she hadn't been willing to admit the
fact to herself. Why not? Why was carrying a baby so terrible that she couldn't
let herself admit it? Of course—all this stemmed back to Tim and her invariable
denial. She'd been unable to even look at a child for the past year.

But she was going to have to look at one soon— theirs. And no
amount of avoiding would make a baby go away.

He was torn. Did he force the issue now, or would that make things
worse? Should he wait until she was ready? When in God's name would that ever
be?

She was trembling now, this woman of strength and courage, this
woman who didn't fear for herself, but whose mind protected her in its own
defensive way. He would never deliberately hurt her or force her to face
something too painful to deal with. She'd already taken huge strides in making
changes within herself. He would have to trust and pray that the rest would
follow.

"It's okay," he said in his most reassuring tone.
"Never mind, it's not important right now." He moved to take her in
his arms and she folded herself against him.

He guided her back to the bed. There they lay together in silence,
her breath gradually returning to normal. The trembling stopped. It still felt
right to hold her. But his heart dealt with a sharp new pain. The fact that she
was denying the child they had made.

Long into the night, long after Amy slept, Jesse lay awake.

And ached.

Sam spent the next morning with a shovel and buckets, hauling the
broken debris from his home and dumping it down the outhouse pit. He was going
to dig a new one next spring anyway. Cay had come with him, and he enjoyed the
boy's quiet companionship.

As many times as Amy told him not to blame himself, he felt
responsible for what had happened. Eden had been taking a diversion while she
found somewhere to stash the jewels she had hoped to keep for herself.

"Did you go to school when you was a boy, Sam?"

Sam righted a chair and leaned against the back. "Never did,
lad. Learned numbers and letters from my ma."

"What about Amy—did she go to school?"

"She did. When we lived in Ohio, it was just a short walk to
the schoolhouse. Then when we moved to Nebraska, there was a schoolmarm who
took turns living with the families nearby."

"There ain't no schoolmarm around here, though, huh?"

"I reckon with more families movin' in, we should find us
one. We do have a church, after all. We should probably have a school."

"I had a man teacher back home."

"You thinkin' you might wanna be a schoolteacher?"

"Nah. I like workin' with the horses. Don't think I'd wanna
be in with a bunch of kids all day when I could be outside."

"You learn from your uncle Jesse and you'll be a fine
horseman one day."

"How'd you and Jesse come upon a plan to run the station,
anyhow?"

Sam explained how they'd been in the army together and how they'd
recognized the need for stations along the routes that so many were taking as
the West expanded.

"Livin' in the city, I never saw so many people ever day as
we see coming through Shelby Station," Cay told him.

"And every one of 'em paying for food and a good portion of
'em wantin' a bed and a bath." Sam winked. "A dollar for each."

"You must have a lot of money by now."

Sam looked at him. "I guess I do."

"Whaddya gonna do with all of it?"

He glanced around. "Maybe I need a new house."

Cay followed his gaze. "A really nice one. With a
porch."

Sam nodded, but his thoughts turned to a bigger house with only
himself to occupy it. "Might be kind of a waste. Just me livin' in it
would be foolish."

"Maybe so." Cay picked up the broom and started sweeping
inward from a corner. "You could get married. I knew a lady back in
Indiana went clear to Colorado to marry a man what sent for her."

Sam paused in picking up a pile of books to glance at the boy.
"That's a common practice, but I don't think I'd want to take a chance
like that."

"You could get a real stinker, huh?"

Sam laughed. "I think I'm a might old for sending for a woman,
lad."