Pieces of Dreams (7 page)

“So you have,” she took him up, “but if my reputation can survive tonight's small indiscretion, I'm sure it would have weathered the short time we'd have been alone together on the road.”

“It isn't just that,” he said.

“Oh? Are you saying you don't trust yourself to be alone with me any more than you do your brother?”

“Melly,” Conrad said in soft warning beside her.

“No, I want to know,” she insisted. “Because if that isn't it, then I can only assume that I'm the one Caleb expects to misbehave.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake!” Caleb said, running a hand through his hair. “You can't expect me to take this business lying down.”

“I expected you to be here. Or I thought you might join us before we finished eating. It even crossed my mind that we might all laugh about the joke. I never dreamed you would come storming up in a rage because I shared a few pieces of chicken with your twin.”

Caleb was silent for long moments. Then he sighed and shook his head. His voice low, he said, “You're right. I shouldn't have been in such a lather.” He lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. “It's been a long day and I didn't find any of the things I wanted. Then to come back and see you and Conrad out here—well, anyway, maybe you'll overlook my temper?”

It was as near an apology as he could come, Melly knew, and a fine reflection of the generous man she had always known, the Caleb she had agreed to marry. Stepping forward, she took his arm, smiling up at him. “I'm sorry too; I know we shouldn't have wandered so far. But I was glad Conrad was here, since otherwise I might have had to eat with Leaman Stotts!”

Caleb smiled with the easing of facial muscles that indicated a return to his usual even temper. “I suppose you’d have been even more aggravated with me then.”

“Indeed I would!” she agreed, and went on in that rallying tone. The two men joined in, if somewhat stiffly, and the moment passed away.

As they were nearing the church and the last of the buggies that were gathered around it, however, she realized an important fact. Caleb had absolved her of blame, but the courtesy had not been extended to his brother. In fact, he had hardly spoken to Conrad other than to condemn him.

Conrad was well aware of his brother's displeasure, though it was not a matter of grave concern for him. He was fairly sure he would hear more on the subject of his sins once they had seen Melly home.

He did not wait while Caleb walked her to the boarding house door. With a polite good night on the sidewalk, he jammed his fists into his pockets and continued in the direction of the livery stable and the river. If his brother was going to kiss Melly, he had no desire whatever to stand and watch. Self-torture was not his pleasure.

He must be mad. What had possessed him to pretend to be Caleb this evening? He should be past such juvenile tricks.

Yes, but Melly had been so lovely, so lovable, and so apparently accessible, that he had lost his head. And he'd be lucky if that was all. Not that it mattered a sailor's damn.

She wasn't for him. Soon, she would be his brother's wife, a tired drudge of a farmer's help-mate. Caleb would plant a child in her belly that she must bear in agony, and he would keep on doing it until her glorious body was a memory, until she was exhausted and faded, with lines in her face and gray in her hair.

She would become exactly like his mother—and Caleb's—had been before she died. His brother might care, but would feel no more blame than their father had before him. If Melly died in her early middle-age, Caleb would miss the clean house, the good food, the convenient female body. But he would never miss the woman because he would never have bothered to know her. Worse, he would think that was the way it was supposed to be, since it was all he had ever known.

“God,” Conrad whispered, staring up at the night-black sky with its silver dusting of stars. If he had Caleb's chance, he would learn every thought and need and dream that Melly possessed. He would discover everything she had ever done or felt, sorrows as well as joys. He would take endless delight in sparring with her to find out her views on everything under the sun. He would tempt and tease until she had no secrets.

Nor would her pleasure be hidden from him. Nothing, nothing would stop him from exploring her lovely form inch by careful inch, while using every wile he had ever learned from foreign females, ever heard, ever imagined, to delight her. He would protect her from the ravages of endless childbearing, serve her rather than expecting to be served, and it would be his greatest pleasure.

That was, of course, if he was intending to take a wife and settle down in Good Hope. But he wasn't. Couldn't.

“
God
,” he said again.

“Blasphemy, brother?” Caleb inquired with heavy irony as he caught up with him again. “I can't say I'm surprised. Maybe cursing like a sailor will help you feel more like a man.”

“The problem,” Conrad said in succinct precision, “is not how much of a man I may be.”

“Oh, I think it is,” Caleb said. “Or have you forgotten I always beat you in a fist fight?”

“You could once, thanks to fifteen pounds’ more weight and hours spent hammering iron on an anvil. Things have changed.”

“I doubt it. But we'll find out if you ever take my place again with Melly.”

Conrad gave him a laconic look. “If you don't want it filled, then don't leave it vacant.”

Caleb put out a hand to bring him to a halt, then squared off to face him. “Meaning?”

“Don't take Melly for granted. Don't disappoint her. Don't leave her alone.”

“You're telling me how to treat my future wife?” Caleb's stance was belligerent in the dark.

“You could use a few pointers from somebody.” The words were even, hard.

“Melly and I were fine until you came along, and we'll be fine again when you're gone. In the meantime, don't forget which twin you are.”

Caleb, his warning given, turned on the heel of his heavy farm boot and stomped away. Conrad propped his fists on his hips as he watched him go. He didn't much care for ultimatums, never had. They brought out the devil in him.

For two cents, he'd show his brother exactly how to go about taking care of Melly. It would be a cheap and much-needed lesson.

Hell, he might even do it for free.

Chapter Six

The drive out to the new house with Caleb to see how the work was progressing was, Melly considered, the direct result of events at the church social. That he had asked her was a surprise; that the two of them went alone, and in the middle of the week, was nothing short of amazing.

She had ridden out once with her aunt, driven by Mr. Seymour Prine, just after Caleb had bought the land. Her many hints since then that Caleb should show her how the house was progressing had never borne fruit. She had come finally to believe he really didn't want her to see it until it was completed.

She did not expect a great deal. Caleb could not afford anything grand, and the two of them had agreed it would be best to start small and add on as their family grew. The house, then, was to be a simple cottage made of vertical boards with a porch across the front and an attached kitchen on the back. There would be a proper parlor, however; Melly had insisted on that. They would need some place other than the kitchen to entertain their guests, particularly in the heat of summer.

It was certainly hot today. Melly, jostling on the wagon seat, blotted her face with her handkerchief and slanted her parasol to block a little more of the sun rays. The wind felt as if it were blowing from the devil's own forge. It swirled the plume of dust that boiled up behind them, enveloping them in a gritty fog that gathered in the folds of her skirt and settled on the tired weeds and sunflowers edging the road. Sweeping onward, it spun drying milkweed and thistle down across the road, and the drying cornstalks in the fields they passed rustled with the touch of its hot breath.

Following the wind's path across the picked-over cornfields, Melly caught sight of a landmark hill looming on their left. “We're almost there, aren't we?” she said, turning to Caleb with a smile. “I was woolgathering, I suppose. But I didn't know you had finished gathering your crop.”

“Conrad has been giving me a hand this past week. It made a difference.”

Conrad. A small tremor ran over her at the unexpected introduction of his name, though she did her best to ignore it. “That was good of him. Did you get a fair yield?”

“Better than expected,” Caleb answered with a nod. “It's been a fine growing summer, with the rains coming at the right time.”

The corners of her mouth turned down an instant. “We could still use a shower to settle the dust and cool things off a bit.”

“Wouldn't hurt,” he said in laconic agreement, adding, “but not this afternoon. We don't want to get wet.”

Melly felt so hot and grimy that being rain-washed sounded like a wonderful thing, though she didn't say so. “Maybe it will rain and get it over before the picnic on Saturday. You mean to come, don't you?”

“Picnic?”

“To celebrate finishing our quilt. It should be done by then. I told you about it at the social, remember?”

“You must have told Conrad,” he said, his voice tight.

He was right.

“Oh. Yes.” Heat burned in her face. “Anyway, it's nothing elaborate, just a simple outing down by the river. We thought of a fish fry, but it's just too hot to hover over a fire. Mostly it’s just a chance to enjoy each other's company, since it's the last time we'll be together before the wedding.”

Feeling as if she had been babbling, she stopped abruptly. Her explanation seemed to mollify him, however, for his features relaxed and a teasing light rose in his eyes.

“My dear Melly, you can still see your friends after we're married. It’s not as if you're going to be shut away like some female in a harem.”

For one brief moment he looked and sounded so much like Conrad that she blinked. The next instant, she wondered if he was not repeating something his brother had said. But that was uncharitable and she knew it.

Flustered, she said, “I realize that, but things won't really be the same. We won't be running back and forth, in and out of each other's houses a dozen times a week. And I'll be different. A married woman has different concerns, different ideas and—and feelings.”

“I should hope the last at any rate,” he said, leaning closer with warmth in his eyes and his shoulder pressing hers. She smiled, though she hardly knew how to answer.

Still, rolling along with their bodies touching and the rattling of the wagon in her ears, she thought she caught a glimpse of how their life together would be, its shared understanding and quiet pleasure. It was comforting yet disturbing at the same time. There should be something more, it seemed. How was it that she had never felt the lack before?

The wagon topped a slow rise and started down. Turning to glance ahead, Melly saw the farm that was Caleb's pride and joy.

The cottage was charming, a white-painted doll's house with scrolled brackets at the tops of the two posts that supported the porch and dark green shutters on the windows. It was perfectly placed, facing the road beneath a great oak tree, yet convenient to the barn and other outbuildings.

Regardless, Melly was disturbed. Her gaze was drawn to the barn. Spreading wide and deep and tall, it was a massive structure that overwhelmed the farm house, making it seem puny and insignificant.

“What do you think?” Caleb's voice was rich with his own satisfaction.

“I think—well, it's a dear little house. Just—just perfect.” She could not stop looking from it to the barn and back again.

Caleb gave her a fond and approving glance. “Just wait until you see inside.”

You've been busy. It looks ready to move into.”

“It is, as of yesterday. I meant to show it to you on our wedding day, sort of bring you home to it, but—well, I couldn't wait.”

“And you finished the barn, too.”

He gave a firm nod. “Working with Conrad is like having four hands. I hardly have to think what I'd like done before he's there with it half done. And he's a demon for keeping after things until they're perfect, I'll say that for him. The responsibility of being a ship’s captain has done him a world of good. There was a time when I could work circles around him, but not anymore.”