Jane Bonander (26 page)

“If you say so, Julia.”

Julia continued to hold Josette’s hand. “Josie, I want to ask you something. I think I deserve the truth.”

Josette gave her a puzzled look. “What is it?”

“Who’s the father of your baby?” Julia held her breath.

Josette grimaced and frowned, rubbing her forehead with her free hand. “You mean Frank?”

Julia’s hopes soared. “Frank is the father of the baby you’re carrying?”

Josette shook her head. “Frank is Marymae’s father. You know that.”

Trying not to sound impatient, she pressed on. “But who fathered the one you’re carrying? Frank?”

“No,” Josette whined. “I
told
you, Frank is Marymae’s father.”

Julia took a deep breath and said a quick prayer. “Is it McCloud?”

“Mr. McCloud?” Her smile was almost grotesque as her dry lips stretched over her teeth. “He’s such a nice man, isn’t he, Julia?”

Julia dredged up more patience. “Yes, he’s a nice man. Is he the father of your baby?”

Josette stretched, her eyes dreamy. “He always took me berry picking. Remember, Julia? He was so nice. And handsome. Wasn’t he handsome, Julia?”

Julia examined Josette carefully, looking for signs of pretense. She found none. Her escape into a safer place happened more and more often. Julia’s heart ached for her.

“Yes, Josie. He was a handsome man.” She patted her sister’s hand and stood. She wouldn’t get an answer out of her today.

She hurried outside. Mattie was already hanging wash on the rope that was pulled tight between two oak trees. Julia took the other end of a sheet Mattie had picked out of the basket and drew it along the line. The wind was strong, whipping the laundry into their faces as they worked.

“With this wind, I’d expect these things to dry in no time,” Mattie announced as she picked up one of Baptiste’s shirts and pinned it to the line.

Mattie had already patched that shirt. Julia also recalled the rest of his clothes, which were as sparse and worn as McCloud’s. She thought about the three new shirts she had sewn her husband, something to keep her fingers busy during the nights when she couldn’t sleep. Or when Josette was restless and kept her awake. She wondered if he would ever return and wear them. As the weeks went by, she wondered if he’d return at all.

“That Frenchman doesn’t have a pot to pee in,” Mattie exclaimed, poking her fingers through a hole in the knee of a pair of Baptiste’s trousers.

Julia smiled. “Maybe he just doesn’t like to spend his money on clothes.”

Mattie made an indelicate sound in her throat as she examined the other knee. “Not spending money on clothes is one thing. Walking around looking poor as a hind-tit calf is another.”

“I’m surprised. McCloud told me Baptiste was living with his fourth wife. I’d expect her to at least keep his clothes patched.”

Mattie snorted again. “He made some comment to me the other day about how his squaw left and returned to her people. Can’t say I blame her, poor thing. He’s not an easy man to get along with.”

Julia had noticed that in spite of Mattie’s harsh words, she had softened considerably toward the Frenchman. “Maybe all he needs is a good woman to keep him in line.”

“Don’t go getting any ideas, Julia McCloud. I’d sooner live with a pack of wolves.”

Julia McCloud.
Julia’s heart swelled with pride. She was Julia McCloud, Wolf McCloud’s wife, pregnant with his child, and no matter what happened, no one could take that from her. “No, you wouldn’t. Why not take him to San Francisco with you?”

Mattie stopped working and stared at Julia as if she were insane. “What? Like a pet rooster or something? Excuse the cussing, dear, but hell and damnation! What would I do with the likes of him? What’s any man good for, anyway?”

Julia enjoyed teasing her aunt, for the woman blushed like a bride when she was befuddled. “They’re good for warming your feet at night.”
Your feet are colder than a witch’s tit.
She shook away the quiet voice in her head, for the memory of that night in McCloud’s bed was one she tucked in a safe place, fearing that if she dwelled on it, it would dissipate like smoke on the wind.

“Well,” Mattie groused, “I expect you got one of the last good ones, dear.” She patted Julia’s stomach. “How have you been feeling?”

Mattie had guessed Julia’s condition early on. They hadn’t mentioned it in front of Josette, however.

“I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.” She’d be better if her husband returned.

She pinned another sheet to the line, her gaze going to the barn. She hoped McCloud wouldn’t be upset when he learned Meredith’s men finished it.

“You’re thinking about that man of yours, aren’t you?” Mattie clipped pins in the center of the sheet to keep it from dragging on the ground.

“I think of little else, if you want to know the truth.”

“Are you concerned that Josette is carrying his baby?”

Julia’s heart lurched. “Why would you say that? I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it.”

“You didn’t have to, dear. I’ve heard Josette’s snide remarks and I’ve seen the concern on your face.”

Julia stopped working. “When Papa first hired him, he was with Josette a lot. She’d beg Papa to let McCloud take her out to ‘pick gooseberries,’ or some such excuse.”

“How do you know that’s not what they were doing?”

“Oh, Mattie.” She wasn’t able to hold back her disbelief. “They may have come home with gooseberries, but I can’t believe that’s all they did.”

“You don’t trust your Mr. McCloud?”

“I certainly didn’t trust him
then.
He gave me no reason to. He was brash, impertinent, and an outrageous flirt.”

“Hmmmm. I see your point.”

“I’ve nearly convinced myself that it won’t matter to me if the baby
is
McCloud’s. What good would it do? What’s done is done.” She hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt.

Stooping to the basket, Mattie pulled out some diapers and clipped them to the line. “Who is Marymae’s father?”

The wind blew a strand of hair into Julia’s face, and she brushed it off. “He was one of the hands. Papa fired him after he discovered Josette’s condition, but he didn’t go far. He was working at the ranch over the hill.”

“Was?” Mattie picked up the empty basket and they started toward the house.

“He’s in jail.” She swallowed her revulsion. “He killed Papa.”

Mattie’s sharp intake of breath was followed by, “The bastard deserves to rot there.”

Julia rubbed her arms as they walked. “Personally, I’d sooner see him hanged.”

“By his you-know-whats, if it were up to me,” Mattie interjected. “Pardon me, dear, but men so often think with their balls, let them die by them since they find them so all-fired precious.”

Julia laughed, surprised she didn’t blush. “And here I thought you were my sweet old Aunt Mattie.”

“Nothing sweet about me.” They reached the porch and she stopped. “Is there any chance that the bastard is also the father of this baby?”

A squiggle of hope burgeoned in Julia’s chest. “I don’t know. It’s possible, I guess.”

Mattie clucked her tongue. “No doubt you’ve spent all your time worrying about your man and Josette.”

Julia gave her a cynical smile. “No doubt.”

The wind picked up the sound of approaching horses, and both women turned, shading their eyes against the sharp morning sun.

In a heartbeat Julia knew it was McCloud. But it wasn’t until she saw him, his thighs clutching his stallion’s belly, that she knew just how much she’d missed him, and how embedded the longing was in her soul.

W
ith shaky fingers, Julia hastily tucked the wild ends of her hair into her chignon. She wished she’d known he was coming, for she would have changed her clothes. Her apron was permanently stained with berry juice from canning, and wet with gray wash water.

He dismounted, his eyes never leaving her. Only then did she notice the other horse. It looked very much like Sally. But Julia’s gaze traveled back to her husband. She stared at him, wanting to see hope, love, and joy, for that’s what she felt in her heart.

He tied both his black and the Morgan to the short hitching post near the porch and strode to her, devouring her with his gaze.

They stood, mere inches apart, and Julia felt longing and hunger, both of which she knew were mirrored in her eyes.

“You came home.” She wanted to touch him, trace his features with her fingers, throw herself at his hard chest.

He studied her, as if trying to remember every nuance of her. She wished she’d been prepared for his homecoming, but if she’d known he was coming, she would have been a wreck.

“Yes, Julia. I’ve come
home.”

The sound of his voice made her weak, the memory of it washing over her like nectar heated by the sun. She rushed into his embrace. He held her so tightly, she could hardly breathe, but she didn’t care. It seemed the most natural place in the world to be, for she’d dreamed of it, hoped for it, wanted it more than she’d wanted anything else for a very long time.

She couldn’t speak; words were inadequate to explain how she felt. She breathed in his smell, trapping it in her lungs as she rubbed her face over his shirt. She traced his scars with her fingertips, remembering each groove, wishing again she could heal him.

“My lands,” Mattie interrupted from somewhere behind her. “I couldn’t separate the two of you with a spatula.”

Julia laughed. “Oh, McCloud, I’m so glad you’re home.”

She heard faint yelping coming from one of the horses. Standing on tiptoe, Julia peered over McCloud’s shoulder at the Morgan and saw two fluffy heads poking out of the saddlebag.

“What do we have here?”

His grin was sheepish, boyish. “I was sure you said we needed a dog.”

She went to the saddlebag and bit back the urge to laugh. “Oh, they’re adorable.”

At being noticed, the pups yipped and wiggled as they tried to get out of the bag. Julia lifted them out, and they immediately went for her face, licking and nipping.

“But McCloud,” she said between bouts of laughter, “why two of them?” She put them on the ground and they wrestled and tugged at one another, tumbling around, happy to be free.

He knelt and played with them. “Well, they were brothers.” He shrugged. “I just couldn’t see separating them.”

Julia forced back tears of understanding. “Of course you couldn’t,” she answered on a quiet breath.

Mattie cleared her throat. “I can see you two want to be alone.” She lifted the puppies into the laundry basket. “I’ll just take these rascals and put them on the porch.”

Julia heard her, but didn’t respond. She knew tears of happiness seeped from the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t care. McCloud was home. Her husband, her lover, the father of the child now thriving in her womb. She returned to his arms and clung to him.

He claimed her lips. The kiss was hard. Fierce. Open-mouthed. He possessed her tongue, darting around it, circling it, demanding more.

He tasted sweet. Hot. Familiar. She felt the intimate explosion of biting, pinching hunger. Raising one knee, she swung it around to the back of his leg, dragging him closer.

His breath came hard as he raised his head. His eyes were dark with desire and he inhaled deeply.

“I’ve missed you, Julia. I’ve missed everything about you. Your smell,” he added, bending to nuzzle her hair. “God, but I’ve missed it. There’s nothing more arousing to me than the way you smell, like fresh air and the hot, secret aroma of woman.
My
woman.” He dragged his face over hers, his stubble scraping her skin. She caught his mouth when it moved close, and they exchanged wet kisses.

He shuddered against her ear. “I knew a long time ago that if I were thrown blindfolded into a roomful of women, I could pick you out with no trouble at all.”

His earthy words thrilled her. She arched her neck, allowing him to lick her there. He moved to her ear, where he drew her lobe into his mouth, biting down gently. She shivered as her desire deepened, and when he returned to her neck and sucked on it, she thought she would splinter into a million sparkly pieces.

He pressed against her, allowing her to feel him. “See?” he whispered against her ear. “I’m horny as a tomcat on a back alley fence, woman.”

Her answer was a warm chuckle. “Oh, McCloud, how I’ve missed your sweet-talkin’ ways.”

His chest shook with laughter. Pulling her to him, he lifted her skirts and wrapped her legs around his back. She felt the long, hard heat of him at the juncture of her thighs. She bit back a sound of pleasure and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I’ve never been much of a sweet talker, Julia, you know that. But I like the hot words. The ones that make you blush.” He bent and made a growling noise on her neck.

It tickled, and she laughed again, then stared up into his sultry eyes. “Oh, McCloud, I do love you so.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before she realized she must have said them out loud. She’d hoped she hadn’t, but one look at his face assured her that she had.

He released her, and her legs swung to the ground. They stood and stared at each other, Julia wishing she could take the words back. Not because they weren’t true, but because she was afraid they would frighten her husband off.

There was confusion in his eyes, but he said nothing. He just took her hand and pulled her toward the Morgan.

“This,” he said, rubbing the animal’s nose, “is for you.”

She didn’t want presents; she wanted his love. But she gave him a wide, pleased smile. “For me?”

“A gift from my brother.”

“You found him! Oh, I’m so glad.”

She stroked the mare’s nose. “I want you to tell me all about your trip. Was it what you’d expected?”

McCloud touched the mare, too, his fingers a hairbreadth from hers. “It was. We’re alike in many ways, Julia, but different, too. He has money and power. I have you.”

She wanted to believe that meant McCloud was the luckier man, but after nearly scaring him off with her words of love, she couldn’t be sure.

“She’s pregnant. By his black Arabian.” He expelled a sound of disbelief. “Christ, Julia, we even own the same kind of horse.”

Julia pressed her nose to the mare’s forehead, sensing an immediate bond. But she couldn’t tell McCloud about their baby … not yet. She felt she’d already shocked him enough for one day. And maybe … just maybe, she was afraid of his reaction.

She dug into her apron pocket and pulled out a partly eaten apple, lifting it to the animal’s mouth. “She’s beautiful, McCloud.” And she was. As the mare daintily took the treat, Julia studied her, a familiar ache giving her a flash of sadness. She was very much like her sweet Sally.

“What’s her name?” The mare nuzzled Julia’s hand, searching for another treat.

“He called her Weeko.”

“Weeko,” Julia repeated, pleased when the animal’s ears perked up. “What does it mean?”

“It’s an Indian name for ‘pretty.’ ”

Julia continued to stroke the mare. “When is she due to foal?”

“About the same time Sally would have.”

Julia thought about Sally’s death and the loss of the barn, and everything they’d gone through since. “She’s a wonderful gift, McCloud. Thank you.”

“It’s sort of a peace offering for being gone so long.” He tipped her face to his. “Has Baptiste given you trouble?”

“Oh, no,” she said swiftly. “He’s been very kind.” She found herself smiling. “In fact, I’ve gotten rather used to having him around.”

His fingers still stroked her chin. “So the old reprobate didn’t embarrass you too much?”

She cocked her head. “Actually, he reminds me a lot of you.”

His grin was full and heart-stopping. “So, he
did
embarrass you.”

She returned his smile. “I think he’s after Mattie.”

“I hope she can give as good as she gets.” His gaze wandered toward the barn.

“She’s perfectly capable of holding her own, McCloud.”

His fingers stroked her neck. “Rather like you, I’d expect.” He appeared distracted as he continued to study the newly built structure. “I see you got someone to finish the barn.”

“Meredith’s men did, McCloud.”

A muscle tightened in his jaw.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

He quirked a sexy black eyebrow at her. “What am I thinking, Julia?”

She put her arm around his waist and drew him toward the barn. “You’re thinking that you can do your own work, and that you don’t want help from her.”

He gave a rakish smile. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. I told her the first time I saw her that I didn’t want a damn thing from her, and I meant it. She could offer me the moon and I’d tell her to blow it out her ass.”

She had to tell him what his mother wanted to do. But… not yet.

“I’m also a practical man,” he continued. “I’m grateful the barn is done, even if it was her workmen who did it. But then, since I discovered they were the ones who burned it down in the first place, it evens out. I don’t owe her a damned thing, Julia.”

Julia let out a quiet whoosh of air. She could see Meredith’s land slipping through her fingers. She understood McCloud’s feelings, but she wanted that land. For their children. And their children’s children. She’d become greedy now that she was pregnant with a child of her own.

They entered the barn. The smell of new wood lingered with the smell of hay. Dust particles danced in the filtering light from a window.

“It smells lusty,” he declared.

Julia sniffed the air. “Lusty? How can a barn smell lusty, McCloud? Musty, maybe, or dusty, but—”

He drew her to him, his eyes dark and smoky. “Where is everyone?”

Her heartbeat accelerated. “Baptiste went into Walnut Hill.” She shook with desire. “Mattie’s in the house; Marymae is asleep.” She didn’t mention Josette, and he didn’t ask.

He dragged her to a dark, hay-filled corner. “I’ve wanted a roll in the hay with you for a long time. I don’t want it to be quick, but damnit, Julia, I don’t know how long I can wait.” He took her hand and pressed it against his fly. He was thick and hard, and Julia rubbed him with her palm.

With nimble fingers he unbuttoned his jeans and drew her hand inside. Weak with hunger, Julia fondled him, reaching low and caressing the warm sac, then moved her fingers to his shaft again. Small amounts of his seed oozed from the slippery tip, and Julia had the insane urge to take him into her mouth.

He gripped her fingers. “No more, sweetheart, or I’ll spend all over your hand.”

She reached under her skirt and untied her drawers, letting them fall to her ankles, then stepped out of them. His hands were on her immediately, his thumbs nudging at her cleft. Evidence of her hunger ran down the insides of her thighs, and she was unable to stand, for her knees would not hold her.

He pressed her gently to the hay, flinging her skirt up and devouring her with his greedy gaze. She squirmed, anxious for him. “McCloud.” Her voice was a pleading whisper.

He spread her legs and came between them, then lowered his head and kissed her
there.
She bucked, the sensation of his mouth on her nether parts so exquisite, she thought she would splinter into a million pieces and die from the pleasure.

Grabbing at his hair, she held him there, feeling the kernel of pleasure expand into a roaring climax as she trapped him with her thighs.

When he moved up and claimed her mouth, she tasted herself on his lips. He entered her, driving deep, then rocked with her until she felt his explosion inside her.

They clung to one another, the only sounds those of their mingled breathing as they tried to catch their breath.

Julia threaded her fingers through his hair, a languid sense of surrender making her unwilling to move. “I’ve missed you, McCloud. I—” She wanted to explain her love for him, assure him that she didn’t want to trap him. “I don’t—”

He pressed one hand over her mouth; the other went beneath her skirt. “Someone’s coming,” he whispered close to her ear.

She almost giggled. What difference did it make? They were married, for heaven’s sake. She glanced at him. His jeans were down around his knees, his dark, muscular thighs pressed to her naked hip. His fingers found her, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning her pleasure.

“Those stupid geldings. They are no better than camels,” Baptiste muttered as he entered the barn.

Julia slapped McCloud’s hand away from between her legs, but it came back, stroking deep. She grabbed his hair, but had no desire to push him away. He rubbed himself against her hip and she felt him harden, suddenly realizing he enjoyed the game they played.

She reached down and stroked him. He laughed quietly, then stuck his tongue in her ear.

Baptiste’s footsteps scuffed louder, and Julia had a wild feeling that they would be discovered. And suddenly she didn’t care, because McCloud’s fingers were working their magic and she felt ready to erupt again.

But she couldn’t lose control, not with Baptiste just a few feet away! She pushed on McCloud’s chest, but he rolled over and entered her, and she clung to him, relieved when his mouth covered hers, for had it not, her cries of completion would not only have brought Baptiste to their hideaway, but would have undoubtedly brought Mattie running from the house with the shotgun.

When they could breathe again, Julia listened for Baptiste.

“He’s gone,” McCloud said, and kissed her again.

She drove her fist into his shoulder. “That was a dirty trick. What if he’d seen us? What then?”

He gave her a expansive smile. “But he didn’t. At least, I don’t think he did.” He rolled off her and brought her with him. “But wasn’t it exciting? Didn’t you get all hot and horny wondering if he’d find us?”