The Problem With Jordan (5 page)

“Like what?” she asked suspiciously.

“Like earning you some money,” he answered.

“That jerk at the bank tried to tell me Aunt Hermione owed him money and he said I would have to sign the land over to him,” she confided.

“What? You didn’t sign anything, did you? He was trying to deceive you, Jordan!”

“That’s what I figured. I gave him what for and ran him off with my Pa’s shotgun. He ain’t been back since.”

“Some men have no qualms about cheating people out of their land, Jordan. You can bet I’ll be having a talk with him. I won’t let anyone take advantage of you. We’ll figure out a way to earn money from your land, and then bank the money for you. There has to be some way to make the land pay, even if the house isn’t worth a lot.”

“You’re my husband; it’s yours now,” she stated.

“It’s mine to take care of for you, but the money it earns will be put aside for you to do with as you will.” He made a face, and then asked, “Did your aunt have any kind of an account at the bank?” he asked.

“I don’t know; she never said.”

“We’ll search for any kind of bank books tomorrow. I don’t care if there wasn’t one penny, but if there was, I am going to make sure you have it and not some crooked banker.”

“I have a pretty good idea where it would be if she did have something like that,” Jordan said softly.

“Good. Now, don’t worry. We’ll sort it out and I promise we’ll take care of things.”

“I trust you, Cray,” she said, surprised to realize that she was telling the absolute truth.

“We aren’t doing bad considering how this day started,” he agreed. “The smell is really getting to me now,” he said seriously. “How much longer until we eat?”

Jordan giggled. “Wash up and then I will take up.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice, that’s for sure,” he muttered.

Before long they were sitting at the table, eating food that was cooked to perfection. “You didn’t tell me you were such a good cook!”

“I like to cook; I just didn’t have much to cook unless I fended for it. You’ve got a lot of food, and it was fun to choose what to fix.”

“I’m sorry you were forced to live that way, Jordan,” he said, meaning every word.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she told him, enjoying her food.

Cray didn’t speak, but surreptitiously watched her eat. When he saw her looking longingly at the last bit of stew in the dish, he said, “Go ahead, Jordan; I’m full.”

She didn’t wait to be told again, but quickly finished the last of the stew. Once she was done eating, she decided to make quick work of the dishes so that she would have some time to learn to use her new sewing machine. She’d always secretly longed for one, positive she could make a living by sewing if only she had a chance to prove herself.

“Goodness, Jordan. I’m not going to complain if you sit for a minute or two after you’re finished eating before cleaning up!”

“I was hoping to learn to use my new sewing machine, Cray. I’ve never had one before, and I’m really excited.”

“How have you learned to sew without one?” he questioned, and then felt foolish when she looked at him in disbelief.

“By hand. But, it takes a lot longer, and Aunt Hermione hated it. She taught me how, and from then on I did all of our mending. We didn’t get new clothing often, and then it was store bought shirts and pants and things. I had to hem those things, but I’ve always wanted to make clothing on a sewing machine. I’m excited, Cray!” she admitted sheepishly.

“I’m glad. I’m kind of curious to see how it works, too. Henry said he hadn’t had any complaints, but then he admitted he’s only sold a couple of them.”

“Well, we’ll find out soon. Oh, I hope there is an instruction manual that tells how to use it, Cray. I know it has to be threaded just right, and there is a bobbin that has to be wound, too, and I don’t want to break it.”

“You won’t break it, honey. Between the two of us, we’ll figure it out.”

Jordan was surprised when Cray picked up a dishtowel and dried all the dishes and put them away. She made sure the kitchen was spotlessly clean and then she walked over to the new sewing machine. “It’s so pretty, Cray,” she whispered, and he mentally patted himself on the back for doing something that was really special to Jordan. “I’m just me, and I honestly haven’t done one thing to deserve this wonderful gift. I don’t feel good enough to be your wife,” she confessed. “You have no idea how special I feel right now.”

“It makes me happy to know that you are happy, but please don’t think that you aren’t good enough for me, Jordan. That just isn’t true. I’m not perfect, and someday I’ll share some of my past with you.”

“I don’t want to argue with you tonight, Cray. I’m too overwhelmed, and my butt is just too sore to risk making you upset with me. It was all I could do to sit still long enough to eat.”

“I agree. Let’s not argue about anything tonight. It has been one crazy day, and I’m more interested in finding things we agree upon.”

“Me, too,” she said, nodding. “Do you have any idea where we could find the instruction book for this sewing machine?” she asked.

“Look in the drawers, Jordan,” he suggested, and she found an instruction book and waved it at him.

“Here we go.” She read, and Cray managed to open the top of the wooden case and then he set the machine up on the little table that was designed to hold the machine. He took the book then, and he read while Jordan filled the bobbin, using the treadle to wind it. Then she threaded the new machine and was ready to sew. “Now I’m scared,” she admitted.

“Let me get an old shirt for you to practice on,” Cray said, and he returned a couple of minutes later with a shirt that was tattered. “This shirt has seen better days.”

“Oh my! From now on I will mend your clothing before it gets to this state,” she promised, frowning. Then she smiled, “It will be perfect to practice on, however. Thank you.”

He watched as she sewed her first seam and then she inspected it critically, pulling on the seam to see if it would hold. “Oh, this is so nice, and so fast!” she announced, smiling. “I am excited, Cray! Thank you again for buying me something I’ve wanted for ever so long. Do you have any mending that needs done?” she asked in a hopeful tone of voice. “I want to make sure you benefit from this sewing machine, too. Aunt Hermione would be thrilled right now, to be sure.”

“I wish I’d been here in time to meet her and get to know her. She sounds like a smart lady.”

“She was shrewd, but her last years were terribly painful for her. She suffered so much from aches and pains, and she could barely walk. It was a mercy for her when she died and left the pain behind her. I miss her, but how could I wish her back to suffer like she was?”

“I know what you mean. A man I grew up with was wounded on the battlefield; he was shot in the midsection, and he was miserable. Infection set in, and he just gave up. I felt it was a mercy for him to pass over and leave the pain behind. He was in agony.”

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Jordan said sincerely, looking at Cray. “There is so much that we don’t know about each other.”

“We’ll have a long time to learn, Jordan. It’s late now, and we should go to bed.” The look in her green eyes revealed that she was afraid. “I recall my promise, Jordan. You have nothing to fear. However, I don’t feel like sleeping on the floor out here. I think we can share a bed and keep to our sides, don’t you?”

“I know I can.”

“Good. You go first, and when you’re decent, call me and I’ll come in and get ready for bed, too.”

“All right,” she breathed, and then got up and hurried into the bedroom. She was pleased to notice that Cray had already lit the lamp and she had enough light to change into her new nightdress. She then unbraided her hair and brushed it before re-doing it in two smaller braids. Once she was hidden beneath the blankets, she called for Cray and told him it was okay for him to come into the room.

Cray went into the room, and gave her a smile before turning the light off. He undressed and crawled beneath the covers, facing away from the redhead. “Goodnight, Jordan.”

“Goodnight, Cray.” He went to sleep almost immediately, and once Jordan was positive that he was asleep, she went to sleep, too. The day was exhausting.

Jordan woke in the morning, unsure of where she was. The bed didn’t feel right, and she suddenly realized she wasn’t alone. Her gasp woke Cray, and he immediately realized that his right hand was wrapped around the redhead, and holding onto her breast. Her bottom was nestled against his hard manhood, and Jordan was furious with him!

Cray could see the fury in Jordan’s flashing green eyes. “It’s not what you think, Jordan. I was asleep, not trying to make love to you.”

“You expect me to believe that?” she demanded, her voice sharp. Her body still felt his touch, and her nipple was swollen and demanding attention. She’d never experienced this feeling, and she didn’t know what to make of it.

“Yes, I do expect you to believe me, young lady. I am telling you the absolute truth,” he insisted. “I do not lie. I’m sorry you feel offended, but I swear I was asleep.”

“I wasn’t offended; I was afraid,” she confessed, permitting her composure to slip a bit.

He could see how vulnerable she was at that moment, and he reached for her hand. “You don’t need to be afraid of me, Jordan. If this happens again, just wake me and I’ll scoot away immediately. I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded and he got up and hurried into his clothing. “I’ll go outside and take care of the stock. Can you fix us some breakfast?”

“Sure. I’ll get the eggs from the chicken house,” she offered.

He nodded and then left the bedroom, giving her some privacy, and trying not to think of how her perfect breast had felt in his hand. For such a small woman, she had breasts that begged for attention.

As soon as Cray left the room, Jordan quickly dressed, and then she made the bed. It was important to her to prove she had some good upbringing from her Aunt Hermione, and she knew enough to make the bed first thing in the morning. After that was done, she found a basket in the kitchen she could use to gather the eggs. She went outside to the chicken house and then inside to where the hens left their treats. Jordan was delighted to find nine eggs. They would have a great breakfast, and she would have enough left over to bake a cake. After so long without any sort of luxuries, and certainly not enough eggs, sugar, and flour to make a dessert, Jordan was nearly giddy with the very idea of baking a cake again. Even when Aunt Hermione lived, there wasn’t often enough for a treat.

While Jordan worked on preparing their breakfast, her mind couldn’t help thinking about what happened earlier. The pretty redhead was startled to realize that she could still feel his touch on her skin. It hadn’t been unpleasant. His hand was warm and quite gentle as he fondled her. She wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t interrupted him. Would he have touched her elsewhere? She was curious as could be and had lots of questions, but she was so shy she didn’t know who she could ask for more information. Perhaps Alice would be able to help her fill in the blanks? All Jordan knew at this point was that she didn’t feel disgusted, and it was a new feeling for her when it came to men. When Ike Kellogg touched her, she felt panic, and like she needed to scrub his touch off of her body. She certainly didn’t feel that way right now.

By the time Cray came inside she had the table all set and their meal ready. “Breakfast is done,” she called to him as he washed his hands.

“I’m ready for it; smells good,” he said, and then walked over to take his seat. She put a plate in front of him, and it was covered with food. “Looks good, too,” he added. He waited patiently while she filled another plate for herself, and then she sat down, her hands folded in her lap and her eyes downcast. Cray thought she was waiting for him to offer grace, and since he had no problem with that, he gave thanks. When she still sat there with her eyes downward, he asked, “Jordan, what is wrong?”

“Nothing,” she quickly answered.

“Don’t fib to me; I will spank you for lying to me,” he warned. “I always want the truth. Now, tell me, what is wrong?” His dark eyes watched her intently.

Jordan didn’t want to answer. “I don’t feel right,” she finally whispered.

“Are you sick?” he asked, concerned. He quickly got to his feet, rounded the table, and placed his large hand on her forehead to check for fever, but her skin was cool to the touch.

“I’m not ill,” she replied, trying to shrug away when he touched her. “I’m
not
sick!” she repeated, trying to get away.

“I don’t like hem-hawing around, little girl,” he warned. “Talk to me right now and stop playing games. Why don’t you feel right?”

“I’m too embarrassed to say,” she explained, and then burst into tears. “Please eat your breakfast before it gets cold. Please,” she said in a firmer tone of voice.

“I will eat, but only if you eat, too.”

“I’ll eat,” she agreed, picking up her fork.

Cray decided he was too hungry to play guessing games with his wife. After they finished, he would get to the bottom of things… one way or another.

Jordan enjoyed her breakfast, but she looked anywhere but at Cray. She just couldn’t let him discover how her body reacted to his touch. It was too embarrassing, and she was afraid he would get the wrong idea about her. She wasn’t
that
kind of woman.

“Did I fix enough?” she finally asked as she took the last bite of her honey-covered biscuit.

“Yes, I’m full, and it was real tasty, Jordan. You are a wonderful cook.”

“Thank you so much.” Her eyes shone with pleasure at his words.

“Now I want you to tell me what is bothering you, and I don’t want to hear ‘nothing.’ That would be grounds for a spanking.”

“I can’t talk about it, Cray. I’m a girl and you’re a man.”

“We are married, and that makes it all right to talk about anything.”

He watched, as she seemed to think about things, her cheeks growing redder and redder. Finally, she whispered, “I didn’t mind when you touched me.”

“That’s nice to hear because I enjoyed touching you, even though I missed most of it,” he admitted.

“It wasn’t like when Ike Kellogg touched me,” she confided.

“Good,” he said with a smile. “I don’t want you to fear me or feel as though I am forcing you to do something unpleasant. Making love between a man and a woman should be pleasant for both of them. It’s natural to get a tingling feeling,” he added, sensing she was asking for information.

“It is?” her voice squeaked.

“Yes, it is. A woman will get damp in her private area, too, and a man will get hard. It’s what happens when you are physically attracted to each other.”

“I didn’t know,” she admitted, her embarrassment at war with her relief at getting some answers.

“It’s perfectly natural,” he said, and then added, “Those feelings can happen when we don’t want them to sometimes.”

“They can?” she asked, flustered.

“Sure. But, with us, it is safe. We are married to each other, and it is expected. I think it is best for us to take our time and let these feelings come along naturally, than to try and force them. I hope you agree?”

“I agree.” She nodded, relieved at his words. “Thank you for explaining. I felt I should be mad at you, but my body liked your touch. I didn’t know what to think; I was afraid I was turning into one of those women who work at the saloon in town.”

“Hardly,” he chuckled. “Even sweet girls like Alice love their husband and are attracted to him physically. God made us this way so that couples would pair off and have children.”

“You know so much, and I feel ignorant sometimes.”

“No need for that, Jordan. Just ask if you want to know something. I’ll answer if I can.”

“Thank you, Cray.” She got to her feet then and started clearing the table.

“I’ll go hitch up the team and we can drive over to your place so that you can fetch whatever you want to bring here.”

She nodded and hurried to do the dishes and straighten up. Cray came inside just as she hung up her dishtowel to dry for use the next time. “I’m all ready,” she assured him.

“That quickly?” he asked. “I was kicking my butt for not offering to help with the dishes. I didn’t mean for you to rush.”

“I thought we were sort of working together, Cray. You getting the team and wagon ready, and me cleaning up our kitchen.”

He grinned. “All right then. I am new at this husband business, and not sure what I should do sometimes. You need to tell me if I step on your toes.”

“I’m sure I will,” she answered with a grin of her own. “I’m sort of known for speaking my mind rather loudly.”

He laughed as they went outside and took the road to drive around to her place. The shack looked the same as it had when he tracked her through the wooded area between their places to put her over his knee until she bit him and earned her release, running away from him as fast as she could. That was also their wedding day, and it was just yesterday in spite of it seeming a lifetime ago!

“This place ain’t much,” Jordan told him, wondering if he felt that she was beneath him for coming from such a poor background.

“I’m sure you have some good memories of your aunt.”

“Yes, I do. She was an honest woman, and before she got so she could barely move, she was a hard worker. We never had much, but we never owed no one, neither. That’s why I don’t believe that banker when he says Aunt Hermione owed him money. I want proof.”

“So do I. I bet there isn’t anything in writing.”

“I’m glad you’re on my side, Cray. As the newcomer, I figured you for an easy mark to fend from. I was wrong.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“It was a compliment,” she assured him as he jumped down from the wagon and came around to help her down.

“Come on inside.” She opened the door that was barely hanging on its hinges, and then she gasped in outrage. The furniture, such as it was, was lying on the floor, splintered and broken. Her aunt’s rocking chair was destroyed, the pillow she kept on the seat, ripped open and the feathers scattered everywhere. The precious few books she owned were ripped apart. Dishes were broken, too.

Cray pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her, hating whoever dared to tear her home apart. No, it wasn’t much, but it was hers and whoever did this was going to answer to him.

“Who did this, Cray?” she tearfully asked, and then sobbed when her green eyes fell on her aunt’s bible lying on the floor in the midst of broken glass. She pulled free of Cray and hurried to pick it up. “Oh no!” Jordan cried out in dismay and pain. “Just look! Aunt Hermione’s bible!”

“Is it salvageable?” he questioned, gently taking it from her hands and trying to shake out the shards of glass from between the pages.

“I am so mad right now!” she said, and then she marched from the room and to the only bedroom in the place. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain on the back of her head. Jordan saw stars and then everything went black.

“You
BITCH
!” Cray heard a man’s voice say and he hurried to get to Jordan. “I’ll have you now, and then you can explain to that fancy newcomer a real man had you!”

Ike Kellogg was so busy unbuttoning his pants, intent on his business with Jordan, that he didn’t realize that she had not come to the shack alone. Cray was enraged at the hatred contorting the man’s face as he looked down at the unconscious Jordan and raised his hand to slap her. Cray grabbed Ike and threw him across the room.

“You son of a bitch! You took Jordy from me! Folks knowed I was breakin’ ’er in to make ’er mine.”

“I know that you tried to rape her and her Aunt Hermione beat you off of her and told you not to come around again. You leave now, Ike, or I’m going to give you a lesson you’ll never forget.” Cray was furious, and wanted to beat the man senseless, but he also wanted to check on Jordan and take care of her. She might need to see a doctor.

Ike wasn’t about to leave. He wanted what was his! He grabbed his knife, the one he was using to slash open pillows and destroy everything in Jordan’s home, and lunged at Cray with it. Cray stepped aside at the last moment and Ike was carried forward by his own momentum. He crashed into the wall, shoving the outstretched knife into his stomach. Ike screamed as he fell to the floor in agony. “I’m dying! Help me, I’m dying!” he screamed.

“There’s nothing I can do, Ike. You are dying, and you should use what little time you have left to make peace with your maker,” Cray told him matter-of-factly.

The man sobbed and cursed and blamed Jordan and if not for the fact he was dying, Cray would have belted him in the mouth. Cray moved to check on the redhead and was thankful when all he found was a bump on the back of her head. She moaned and opened her lovely green eyes.

“What happened?” she asked. “My head hurts!”

“Ike Kellogg hit you and was planning to rape you. He tried to come at me with his knife and then fell on it. He is dying and he won’t be a threat any longer.”

“He’s the one who tore up Aunt Hermione’s things?” she whispered forlornly.

“He did.” A glance at the man told him that Ike was gone. Cray knew he would need to take Ike’s body into town and tell the sheriff what happened. “Honey, I think you should let the doctor look at you. I’ve got to take the body to the sheriff and let him deal with Ike. I know he’s going to ask a thousand questions.”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up!”

Cray helped her up and outside, and poor Jordan did lose her breakfast. He was sure she had a concussion. When she finally felt better, he got an old blanket and wrapped Ike’s body in it and put it in the back of the wagon before heading to town with his wife leaning against him. They stopped so that she could be ill once again, and then went straight to the doctor’s office.