Firefly (50 page)

As before, he waited until their bodies were no longer joined, then lifted himself on shaky arms and legs and eased gently away.  Lying on his back beside her, he clasped her hand.

"I love you," Julie sighed raggedly.

"I love you, too."

*   *   *

Julie wakened to darkness.  Vaguely aware that it was too early to get up, she sighed and rolled over.  She felt uncomfortably cool and groped blindly for a sheet; finding a loose corner, she tugged until she got enough free to cover herself, but in doing so she discovered two very surprising facts.  She was stark naked, and every muscle in her body ached.

With a lazy smile that quickly became an even lazier yawn, she remembered.  She tucked the sheet under her chin and reached her other hand out for Del.

He was gone, though the space beside her retained a slight warmth.  Ignoring the soreness that seemed worse the more she moved, Julie rolled from the bed and shuffled her feet along the floor until she encountered bits and pieces of clothing.  She identified her petticoat and dress, but rejected them both and finally found just the camisole and pantalettes.  Pulling them on in the dark, she stretched luxuriously and yawned again.

She ran her fingers through her hair to comb out the worst of the tangles while she oriented herself to the room again.  She looked to the shuttered window but could see no light even around the edges.  Had Del extinguished the lamp, or had it, like the one in the kitchen, burned itself out while they slept?  And how long had they slept?

Cautiously avoiding any obstacles in her path, Julie made her way in the general direction of the door.  She encountered another garment, which she identified as his shirt, and slipped her arms into it.  It was cool from lying on the floor, but soon her body would warm it, and there was something comforting about wrapping herself in it that had nothing to do with warmth.  Closer to the door, she could see a slim band of pale light under it and heard the sounds of someone moving around in the kitchen.

On silent feet she wandered down the stairs and through the parlor, aware now that Morgan was busy starting a fire in the stove.  When she entered the kitchen she found him on his knees, blowing gently on the kindling, his own bare feet curled beneath the seat of his dungarees.  He wore no shirt, and his hair looked as though he had combed it backwards with a pine cone.

He was absolutely the most beautiful creature she had ever seen.

Not knowing if he had heard her approach or was merely ignoring her while he built the fire, Julie stole up behind him and, dropping to her knees, wrapped her arms around his waist.  She kissed the smooth cool skin of his shoulder and whispered, "Good morning."

"Good morning," he greeted in the same quiet kind of voice.  "Want some coffee?"

He got to his feet, bringing her with him, and then turned in her loose embrace to face her.  A light kiss seemed inevitable.

"I suppose so.  What time is it?"

"About quarter to four.  Did I wake you?  I didn't mean to let the door slam when I filled the coffee pot."

"It doesn't matter.  Something woke me, but I don't know what.  And I needed to get up anyway."

She rested her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes.  Never in her life had she felt so perfectly at home as in this man's arms.  He held her gently, comfortably, and propped his chin on the top of her head.

"You don't need to do any such thing," he scolded lightly.  "Today's your wedding day."

Now she tilted her head to look at him, to study the green eyes closely.  He didn't blink under her scrutiny.

"You meant it?"

"Of course I did.  I don't make marriage proposals I don't mean." Seeing the beginning of a tear in the corner of her eye, he squeezed her a little more tightly.  "Did you think I was the type who made promises in order to seduce innocent maidens?"

"No, I would never think that of you," she confessed honestly.  "I just thought maybe I had dreamt it.  I still can't quite believe it's true."

"You do still want to marry me, don't you?"

"Of course I do!"

"Good.  As soon as it's relatively decent to do so, I'll go wake up Reverend Wintergarden and find out just exactly what formalities we have to go through.  By the time I open the office this afternoon, I expect to have our relationship fully legal."

There it was, the guilt she had waited for.  It welled up from some hidden spring inside her.

"Are you...ashamed of last night?" she asked in a whimper.

"Ashamed?  God, no!  Oh, Julie, how can I be ashamed?" Then, realizing he had not quite understood her correctly, Morgan lifted his hands to encircle her face and hold it still while he spoke.  His words were stern, but his voice overflowed with the love he had never thought he could feel again.  "And I am not ashamed of you, either.  Julie, Julie, please, believe me.  What we did last night we did out of love.  It was beautiful, the way it should be, and I refuse to let you feel guilty about it.  Is it because we weren't married first?"

She couldn't nod, but he understood the slight lowering of her lashes.

"What if you had been married to Hans?  Would that then have made it right?  If he beat you and hurt you and never made you feel the way you felt last night, would it still be all right just because he was your husband?"

Her lips, trembling, formed the word no, but she could make no sound.

"I love you, Julie.  I love you because you are kind and intelligent and loyal and gentle and beautiful, and what Reverend Wintergarden or a justice of the peace has to say about it isn't going to change my feelings at all.  The only thing I'm ashamed of is that I didn't realize it all sooner, and I let you go through so much suffering when I could have stopped it.  For that I'm sorry, but not for what we had last night.  Never for that."

She clung to him, her arms tight around his waist, and there were no tears.  Only relief and contentment.  He turned her face up for another kiss, softer than any other he had given her and yet more filled with his love.

"Now, let's have some coffee, all right?" he suggested.

He had brought the lamp from the bedroom and set it on the end of the table, and while Julie made the coffee, Morgan refilled the empty lamp and lit it, too.  Then, sitting opposite each other, they sipped scalding black coffee and munched on slightly stale bread.

"My shirt looks much better on you," Del teased, blowing on the coffee to cool it a little.  "Every time you lean over it gaps open and I can see all the way down to your belly button."

She blushed and clutched the garment more tightly around her.

"Now, Julie, you know you could have gotten dressed before you came down here and you didn't.  I think you like letting me see you."

"I do.  I mean, I did," she admitted shyly, "but when you talk about it so easily over a cup of coffee, well, it isn't quite the same as...as last night."

"Then let's finish the damn coffee and go back upstairs.  Wintergarden won't be awake for hours yet."

"No, Del, I can't.  I have to go home."

"Home?" he snorted.  "What the hell for?  This is your home now.  There's nothing over there you need that I can't give you.  You even told me you brought all your money."

"It isn't that.  Oh, I have a few things, like my new clothes, and the aprons I made for work, and some other small personal things, but I need to go tell them."

"I can do that.  Julie, I don't want you going there any more.  Not alone, at any rate."

She shook her head, and he saw a strange determination stamp itself firmly on her features.

"I can't explain it, but I need to go there and tell them.  I...I won't tell them everything, though I doubt I'd even need to, but I want to do it on my own."

It was more than determination.  Pride lifted her chin and made her cheeks glow.  It straightened her shoulders under the loose-fitting shirt.  After all the years of shame, she felt pride again, and he knew he had to let her have it.  And the fact that she took her pride from him sent a fresh thrill of love through him.  She had brought him back from a living hell, but she took no credit for herself.  She was proud of him, and that meant everything.

"All right," he consented.  "But I'm going to watch you.  I'll wait on the hotel porch, and if I hear one little scream, I'll be there in a second.  Do you understand?"

"Yes.  Thank you.  For everything."

*   *   *

They kissed good-bye at the gate to the Hollstroms' yard, and then Julie watched Morgan walk away.  She could barely make out the bulk of the Olympia House across the street, but the light would grow quickly.  Birds twittered noisily and a few dogs had started barking.  Roosters crowed nearby and in the distance.

Julie walked slowly around the house to the back door.  Though the front was unlocked, as always, she felt more secure entering as silently as she had left.  No one should be awake yet, and she planned to make her announcement during breakfast.  That was what she had told Del she was going to do, and promised him she would be at the clinic by ten o'clock.  That would give him plenty of time to talk to the preacher and make whatever arrangements were necessary.

The kitchen was still dark, like the rest of the house, and silent.  Julie took a match from the box on the wall and struck it on the side of the stove to light a lamp.  Though she was starting a bit earlier than usual, she set about her regular chores as though this morning were no different from any other.

*   *   *

Del settled himself on one of the old chairs on the hotel porch and pulled out a cheroot.  He could see glimmers of light in the Hollstrom house now.  He imagined Julie going about her tasks, lighting the stove, fixing breakfast, waking her father and mother and brother.  He watched for lights in the upstairs windows, but they remained dark.  He sighed, sending a puff of fragrant smoke spiraling into the morning stillness.

*   *   *

Julie climbed the stairs and went into her own room first.  Now there was some light, enough to see to collect the few things she intended to keep.  She still had her money in her pocket, and added to it a brush and comb, her hairpins, and the tissue-wrapped bar of Pears soap she had splurged on.  From the wardrobe she took only the blue blouse and the new skirt, folding them over her arm while she took the aprons and her few undergarments from the drawer.

She carried her belongings down the stairs and placed them in a neat pile on the dining room table.  When her parents came down for breakfast, they would see the clothes and that would give Julie the opportunity to break the news to them.  She would be close to the door, too.

After making a final check in the kitchen to see that the water was ready for coffee, that the bacon was starting to sizzle and the toast wasn't burning, she made the last climb up those stairs.

Katharine stood in the doorway to her room, yawning groggily and looking extremely disheveled, even for a woman just out of bed.

"Is Papa up?" Julie asked, surprised to see her mother awake this early.

"Isn't he downstairs?" Katharine countered.

"No."

"Well, he isn't here either.  And from the looks of the bed, I'd say he's been up at least an hour.  I took all the blankets."