Carolyn Davidson (13 page)

“Oh, baby! I felt so bad when I hurt you. I tried not to, but you’re so damn little.” He covered her face with kisses, as if he could mend his fences with an abundance of loving. And then felt the smile she could not hide.

“I’m really your wife, aren’t I, Will?” she asked wonderingly.

“Yeah, you sure are, Cass,” he agreed, his spirits lifting as he absorbed the happiness she made no attempt to hide.

“Will it hurt as much the next time?” She shivered as she awaited his reply, as if the memory of her pain was too fresh to be ignored.

“I’m surprised you’re willin’ to talk about a next time,
honey,” he whispered, pulling back from her as his arousal made itself known against her thigh.

She smiled, lifting her arms to encircle his neck. “I can’t help but notice that you’re ready to try it again, Will.”

“Not tonight, honey. You’ve done enough bleeding for this time. I’m feelin’ like the world’s biggest ignoramus as it is.”

“Oh, Will, don’t feel that way,” she whispered, her hands enclosing his face, her forehead wrinkled with worry lines. “I’m glad you’re big. It makes me feel safe and secure.”

“We’re talkin’ about different kinds of big here, Cassie,” he told her. “The part of me I’m talkin’ about is the thing that caused you all the pain.”

“Pooh!” Her whispered exclamation was accompanied by a swat of her hand against his shoulder. “It felt good, Will. Before the pain, I mean. If it hurt every time, I’d still want to do it with you.” She paused and tilted her head, her eyes narrowing a bit. “Well, maybe if it just hurt a little.”

“I don’t think it will, honey. Once you heal up for a day or so, it’ll be all right.”

She snuggled against him and he drew a quick breath. “You’d better not be twitchin’ like that, Cass,” he warned her darkly. “I’m havin’ a hard time here.”

She giggled against his chest. “I noticed, Will Tolliver. To tell the truth, I couldn’t help but notice.”

His thrifty heart rebelled as he burned the bloody towel. He’d stuffed it inside his shirt, wearing his jacket to cover the bulge until he got to the barn. Out back, near the manure pile, he lit the corner of the stained length of cotton and watched as the dried blood evaporated in the flame. No
way was he going to let his mother catch sight of this proof of Cassie’s innocence.

If ever a virgin had walked this earth, it was his bride. Although this morning she wasn’t walking too well. She was stepping pretty gingerly, moving a little more slowly than usual. But the warmth in her eyes and the smile she’d bestowed upon him as he’d left the kitchen soothed his guilt, leaving behind only a glow that smacked of masculine pride.

There was no mistaking the happiness she wore like a Sunday-go-to-meeting dress this morning.

A
ll the things she’d never done in her life—the gardening, the tending to a child like Maggie, the long hours spent with Will’s mother learning how to run a house—added up to a perfection Cassie had not dreamed of. If for no other reason than this, this life he had given her, she would give her life for Will Tolliver.

And after all, he did not ask her to give her life, only her body into his keeping. She had done so gladly. The pain of her wedding night put aside, she chose only to remember Will’s tenderness.

For the next two nights he held her while he spoke of his plans for the farm, the horses and their life together. Spending countless kisses upon her countenance, his hands deft and cautious against her skin, soothing and caressing, he pampered and caressed her without any comfort for himself that she could see.

The third night found the blue gown once more spread across the bed and she heard Will asking in a low, strained voice if she would please wear it again.

She nodded, scooping it up and slipping behind the dressing screen. It was still too short, but Will didn’t seem to mind. Watching her from the depths of their bed, he
lifted the covers and she accepted his wordless invitation. Settling next to him, she glanced at the candle he’d left burning on the table beside the bed.

“Are you going to blow it out?” The light shed from the single taper left his face in shadow and she searched his features, wondering at the whimsical smile he wore, while his eyes were strangely watchful and heavy lidded.

“Tonight I want to see you in candlelight, Cassie. I settled for moonlight the last time. But I promised myself that next time I’d—”

“Next time?”

“I thought it was time to try again, Cass. If I have to coax you into this, I will, but I figured you were pretty well healed up by now. If it turns out you’re not, we’ll wait a while longer.”

She nodded. At least he wasn’t ready to give up on her. And she blurted out the words even as they came to mind.

His surprise was evident and his eyes softened in the candlelight. “Give up on you? Ah, sweetheart, I’m the one who made a mess of things, hurting you the way I did.”

“Most of it was good, except I didn’t know for sure what was going to happen,” she whispered.

Will tilted his head a bit, his forehead touching hers, and he closed his eyes. “I should have known to explain things to you, Cassie. I’ll try to do better this time.”

She moved a bit closer, breathing words she could not speak without closing her eyes. “I like the kissing best, Will. And the part when you touched my…”

“When I touched your breast, Cassie?”

“Yes…” she whispered.

“Let’s try the kissing first, honey,” he whispered, his mouth fitting against hers with care, only the impudent tip of his tongue coaxing her into a more intimate touching. She responded hesitantly, beguiled by the moist temptation.

As if he had only waited for that invitation, as if she had opened to him the riches of a thousand gold mines, he took her with greedy strokes of his tongue. Rising over her, he rolled her to her back, tempering his eagerness as he sampled the taste of her desire.

Her mouth opened to his, her hands clutching at his shoulders as his hand slid to take possession of her breast. One nimble finger circled the pouting, hard crest and she shivered at the thread of delight that pierced her.

“Like this?” His hand beneath the gown, he squeezed gently. Then, with a mutter of impatience, he disposed of her gown, and his head bent to savor the lush curves he’d uncovered, his lips tasting the firm flesh.

It was a whirlwind, this sensation he offered, the tugging of his mouth, the bathing of his tongue, the urgent pressure of his manhood against her thigh. His hands were coaxing her, the gentle caress of his fingers skimming her flesh, molding, urging her compliance and offering an abundance of delight.

She closed her eyes, her head tilting back against the pillow as he wooed her, his big hands gentle against her skin. Her mouth opened, sounds she barely recognized as her own whispering in the silence of the night. And then in a shivering, shuddering burst of pleasure, one whose existence she had never suspected, he banished from her mind the pain she had thought to endure once more. Her body shimmering with an encompassing delight, she lifted her hips, offering herself to him.

His words of praise rang in her ears as she clasped him to her, urging him closer until he fit their bodies together with gentle care. And as he led her to a knowledge of her own passion, she gave herself into his keeping.

“One flesh,” he whispered. “That’s what this means, Cassie.” He lifted himself from her, and in the dim light
he looked solemn, his mouth unsmiling, his eyes dark with a desire she had come to recognize. “I’m a part of you, Cassie. This is what makes us man and wife.”

He hovered over her and she held him within her embrace, her arms clasping him with a strength fed by the blazing need to cherish this man forever. “I love you, Will,” she said, her words fiercely spoken, as if she defied him to deny her claim.

“Ah, Cassie.” He bent to her, catching his weight on his forearms, his hands cupping her face. His mouth caressed hers, his lips soft, the urgency held in abeyance as he accepted the words she uttered. He lifted his head, his eyes seeking hers. “Am I hurting you, sweetheart?”

“No…” A sense of surprise colored the single word and she repeated it, more firmly.

His lips tightened, the ruddy color across his cheekbones drawing her gaze as he closed his eyes and moved against her once more. He ducked his head then, his jaw tense, his big frame lifting, withdrawing slowly, and then seeking the shelter of her body again. His movements were measured and deliberate, and she rose to him, meeting his urgent rhythm.

“Cassie!” Her name became a primitive growl of satisfaction as he whispered it twice, then again, finally surging against her in a shuddering burst of pleasure.

The tidy rows of beans and carrots were a testimony to her newfound skill. Corn was better planted in the field west of the near pasture, Clara told her, but the kitchen garden had room for more food than they would want to face, come late summer. Cassie delighted in the daily survey of the fenced-in patch near the back porch.

Even the chore of weeding was a source of contentment Maggie chattering nearby, the warm sunshine overhead and
the feel of garden dirt beneath her fingertips allowed her a sense of usefulness. Will’s need of her was a celebration, filling her with the joy of being a wife. Working with Clara in the house and the garden was a different sort of satisfaction. She was doing her share, making a home and carrying part of the burden of running the farm.

The sound of horses from the corral caught her ear and she tilted her head, listening for Will’s voice. He’d warned her at breakfast to keep Maggie from the barn today and she’d agreed readily. Perhaps she’d do well to take the child inside the house. Whatever Will had in mind, he’d been pretty specific.

“It’s time for a cup of tea, Maggie. Why don’t you run in and tell your grandmother we’ve been out in the sun long enough. Maybe you can find a few cookies for us.” Her mind on the commotion beyond the barn, Cassie brushed her hands against the dark apron she wore, anxious to scoot Maggie on her way.

“What’s Will and Tall Horse doin’ out there, Cassie?” Maggie stood and peered toward the barn, unwilling to head for the back door. “That horse is makin’ an awful lot of noise.”

“Your uncle Will knows what he’s doing, honey,” Cassie assured her. “Run on in the house now.” Lifting the basket of weeds she had plucked from the fertile ground, she stepped down the row, her eyes alert for stragglers she might have missed. And then the shrill whinny sounded once more, and she cast a glance at the child, who was reluctantly making her way through the screen door into the kitchen.

Cassie dumped her basket on a pile beyond the garden and strode for the barn. Perhaps one of the horses had been hurt. Maybe Will would need her to get salve or bandages from the tack room. Her steps quickened and she ran the
last few steps to the barn, blinking as she entered the dim aisle running from one end of the big building to the other.

At the far end, an open doorway led to the corral. A whirl of hooves and swishing tail flashed past the entrance and then Will came into view, leading a horse, one hand on the halter, his shoulders hunched as he gripped the animal’s mane with the other.

“Hold her, Will.” The disembodied voice of Many Fingers echoed through the barn and as Cassie neared, Will spread his feet, bracing himself as the horse he held tossed its head.

Over his shoulder, the stallion the men had brought home yesterday reared, only to settle atop the mare Will held. The stud whinnied, his forefeet covered with pieces of blanket, tied in place. The mare was quiet now, her nose pressing against Will’s chest, spraddle-legged and shivering noticeably.

“Will?” Cassie spoke his name, aghast at the condition of the pretty little sorrel mare. She looked so woebegone, so beleaguered with that enormous stallion leaning on her back.

Will looked over his shoulder and frowned. “Cassie, go on up to the house.”

Her jaw twitched and her teeth clenched as he spoke. “What are you doing, Will?” The shadows fell behind her as she stepped through the doorway, and she squinted against the noonday sun. Many Fingers stood back from the stud, obviously aware of the danger of the huge animal’s flying feet. Then, with a snort, the stallion slid to stand on all four feet and turned away, hanging his head.

Will’s mouth thinned as he looked at his wife. “We’re breedin’ a mare, Cassie. You don’t want to be out here. I told you and Maggie to stay by the house this morning.”

Cassie glared at him, an unexplainable anger coating her
words. “You told me to keep Maggie away. I’m a grown woman, Will. I know how horses get bred…sort of.”

His eyes softened and he shook his head. “You don’t want to see this, honey.” Snapping a lead rope on the mare, he led her into the barn, one hand clasping Cassie’s elbow as he went. He took the mare to a nearby box stall and turned her inside the enclosure, closing the door carefully.

Then he turned to the woman who watched him. “You’ve got Many Fingers all embarrassed out there,” he said with a smile.

She pulled away from his grip and backed to the center of the aisle. “Why was the mare making so much noise? Was that horse hurting her?” Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered the pitiful stance the mare had taken.

“It’s always noisy when the stallion covers the mare, Cass,” he began.

“Well, she didn’t act like she liked it, not one little bit!” Cassie put in sharply. “You didn’t even give her a choice.”

Will shook his head. “She didn’t care, Cass. She was ready for him. She just wanted to twitch her tail a little first.”

“Well, I don’t like it that you held her and let him hurt her that way.”

“Honey, we even padded his feet so she wouldn’t get cut up. Come on, look at her, she’s fine now.” Will reached for Cassie and tugged her toward the stall, standing behind her, his arms enclosing her as he bade her to examine the mare. He rocked her a bit, his nose nuzzling against her ear.

“See, sweetheart. She’s eating already. She’s fine.” His mouth was damp against her skin and Cassie felt a frisson of delight flare from the site he had chosen to visit with his warm kisses.

Putting aside the reaction he so easily drew from her
eager flesh, she lifted her shoulder, nudging him from place. “It just doesn’t seem right,” she said petulantly.

“Well, next spring when she drops her foal, you’ll be glad we bred her. I’ll remind you of it,” he said with a chuckle.

“Will.” Many Fingers stood in the doorway, holding the halter of the stallion, obviously unwilling to come any closer with Cassie in the aisle. Behind him, the big horse blew and snorted, slowly pawing at the ground with his padded forefoot, his movement languid as if he must make a display of his masculine power for the audience in front of him.

Will turned Cassie from where she stood and steered her toward the big front doors, his arm draped over her shoulder. She glanced back, at odds with the eerie sensations that insisted on curling in her belly as she watched the Indian lead the stud into a stall. That so much energy was required for the act of mating puzzled her. And that the mare had so meekly submitted after putting up such a fuss was another thing that was confusing.

Yet, perhaps it was all worth it, when the result would be a foal in the spring. She turned away from the big horse and caught Will grinning down at her.

“You’ve never seen the likes of that before, have you, honey?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’ve never seen any animals mate, Will. I guess I’m kind of sheltered when it comes to that part of life.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something, Cassie,” he murmured as they entered the sunlight once more, walking more slowly toward the house.

She leaned into his side, drawn by the male scent of him, the leather-and-hay blend that seemed forever attached to
his clothes, the musky aroma she inhaled from his skin at night.

“Cassie, you know we’re not much different from the horses when it comes right down to it. When a male and female mate, sometimes there’s results to consider.”

She nodded, wondering at his words. What on earth was he talking about? Results? Her forehead crinkled as she pondered his words for a moment. The mare would drop a foal as a result of today’s mating. What did that have to do with her, for goodness sake?

“Cassie? Did you hear me?” He stopped, midway through the yard, halfway to the house, and his hands gripped her shoulders. “Cassie, you really don’t know yet, do you? It didn’t even occur to you that we’re probably gonna have a baby early next year?”

She shook her head. “You really think so?” One hand moved, trembling fingers resting against her belly.

Will nodded, heart beating wildly at the idea that had only now begun to feel like a fact. “I’d say we’re gonna have a child, Cass, and my best guess would be in January.”

She blinked at him, looking like a downy owl still in the nest, he decided. More than ever it looked as if his suspicions had been correct when Cassie had missed her monthly. She hadn’t shown any concern, hadn’t mentioned anything, that was true. And he sure enough hadn’t seen any signs of such a thing since they’d gotten married, and that had been almost two months already.