Restless Heart (7 page)

Lettie’s eyes grew suspiciously wet. “That’s what I’m afraid of. A heart shouldn’t do anything but beat and keep you alive. If you follow your heart, you’re going to regret it.” By the tone in her voice, she had done just that.

Angeline was shocked to realize someone had hurt Lettie before Josiah. Perhaps it was Robert she spoke of, but whoever it was had damaged her heart badly enough that the pain still echoed years later.

“Whoever hurt you should be whipped.”

Lettie appeared a bit flushed. “Ain’t nobody to whip.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing worth talking about.” Lettie flapped her hand in dismissal. “I was a stupid fool and it’s done.”

“No, not a fool. It’s called being human. You might want to try it some time.” Angeline was pleased to see the corners of Lettie’s mouth kick up in a grin.

“I’ll think about it.”

They grinned at each other at the familiar phrase. It was something they’d repeated to each other during the long journey east, when they were scared out of their minds, waiting for Josiah to appear, to drag them back. One night they huddled behind rocks in the Utah night with only the stars and each other for company. Side by side, they’d survived by sheer willpower alone.

Lettie was stronger than Angeline. She was the one who kept them going when Angeline wanted to give up. Lettie pushed and pushed, made them talk about the most inane topics just to keep their minds engaged. Whenever Lettie would encourage Angeline to talk about something new, she’d groan and snap, “I’ll think about it.”

It had become a familiar phrase, something they repeated to each other like a battle cry. It made them both stronger, tougher, able to handle any challenge that came their way.

“I’m not changing my mind about this.” Angeline had the greatest respect for Lettie, but Sam’s courtship was too important to give up. “I can’t.”

The older woman frowned. “You’re a fool then.”

“So be it. It won’t be the first time.” Angeline hugged Let-tie quickly, then moved away. “Thank you for caring, for worrying about me. Not many people are left in the world to do that.”

“That’s the truth if I ever heard it. It’s you and me, Ange-line. No matter what man catches your eye.” Lettie turned and walked toward the door. She was bitter at the age of thirty, too bitter for someone so young.

Angeline wished something or someone good would happen to her friend, just as Sam had happened to her. Life hadn’t been kind to Lettie, and it was time that changed. Perhaps Angeline would find a way to make that happen.

Putting aside thoughts of her friend, she focused on getting ready for dinner. After pronouncing herself as presentable as
she would get, Angeline put on her shawl, the one item she owned that had belonged to her mother, and walked downstairs.

Telling herself she wasn’t a coward, she went out the kitchen door so no one would see her leave. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed to be going to Sam’s house. Rather she was embarrassed at how little she knew of courting, of relationships between men and women.

She would be nineteen in the fall, yet what she knew of men could fit in a thimble. Even though she had been married, she was ignorant of such a simple thing as how to kiss. Sam had taught her quite a bit by the lake. It was wonderful, and made her feel tingly from head to foot.

She couldn’t wait to do it again. Or perhaps more.

The sky was slate gray with clouds, but no rain fell. Perhaps it would hold off until later and she could walk to Sam’s house without getting soaked. She was so preoccupied with the threat of bad weather, the five-minute walk seemed instantaneous. She stood in front of the house staring at the sign FORESTVILLE NEWS, which was faded and peeling.

Angeline hadn’t told Sam she’d never read a newspaper. Never knew about them until she had left Tolson. Truthfully, she was hoping to see some of the inner workings of the office. She had become a regular reader of books, and perhaps if she understood the newspaper, she would read that too.

She raised her hand to knock when the door swung open. An older man stood there with a tin cup in one hand, a black smear on his cheek, and his glasses perched on his balding pate.

“Can I help you?”

“Mr. Carver. My name is Angeline Hunter. I’m here to see Sam.” At least she didn’t sound like an uneducated fool.

“Sam?”

She frowned. “Sam Carver. Your son?”

“Pa, it’s okay. She’s my friend.” Sam appeared beside his
father, his face a tight mask of reined-in emotions. “Let’s get you back inside.”

He met Angeline’s gaze and she was shocked to see disappointment, fear, and a plea for understanding. Something was obviously wrong with his father.

“I don’t remember that woman. Is she here to see Sparrow?”

“No, she’s here to see me.” Sam apologized to her with a glance and then turned to lead his father back into the room.

She stepped inside and closed the door. The smell of paper hit her first, then there was something else, likely ink or perhaps the machinery used to print the newspapers. Although she wanted to explore more, she followed Sam and his father into another room.

The kitchen was not in good shape, barely functional, with a tiny pot-bellied stove, a battered coffeepot, a battered wood sink, and a few tin plates on a crooked shelf next to a dirty window. It was definitely a man’s house without much of a woman’s touch.

“I’ll be right back.” Sam smiled sadly. “Can you wait here for me?”

Angeline nodded and he gave her a grateful glance before he led his father out of the kitchen. While she waited for Sam, she wandered back into the open area where the machinery was. It was rather nosy of her, but she couldn’t help herself. Her curiosity just wouldn’t be quiet.

The machine was enormous, covered with particles of paper and smears of ink. It had a maw that looked dangerous enough to bite off a hand. She had no idea how how the machine worked and hoped Sam would explain it to her.

Her boots made a path through the dust and tiny paper bits on the floor. She made her way to an old desk in the corner. It was a large wooden desk with lots of cubbies and small drawers. Judging by the scratches, it was well used and rather old.

Various papers littered the top, some with notes in a man’s handwriting, others with numbers like arithmetic problems. She smiled as she noticed a note that read, “Tell Sam to order newsprint.”

It was a peek into the life of a man she never would have met if she hadn’t left Tolson. He was a journalist, a man who would not have found a place in the ward, who would have been shunned for what he did. She was glad to have met him, even if he seemed to be a bit confused.

“I’m sorry, Angel.” Sam’s voice startled her and she dropped the note back on the desk.

She turned to find him in the doorway, his expression full of shadows and secrets.

“Nothing for you to be sorry about. I did notice there’s nothing cooking. I thought we were having supper?” She didn’t understand what was going on with his father, but Sam had invited her for a meal, her first outside of the restaurant since she’d arrived in Forestville.

“I meant to cook, I did, but Pa is having a bad day. He’s been having a lot of bad days.” He walked up beside her and smiled sadly. “You, however, make my day brighter by just being here.”

Her heart sped up and she felt herself leaning toward him, eager to be near him, to feel the rush of his presence. He stepped closer and she didn’t move back. She felt his body heat reach out to hers. Her breath began to come in gasps as he leaned in toward her. She knew he was going to kiss her—she wanted him to. Angeline had never wanted anything more than to feel Sam’s lips on hers again.

“I’m going to kiss you.” His husky voice grazed her ear, sending a shiver up her spine.

“Please,” was all she said, all she could say.

He cupped her cheek and gently pulled her mouth toward his. Lips brushed once, then twice. She shivered, goose bumps racing down her skin. He was gentle, so gentle she hardly knew
what to do. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but she didn’t know how to act with a man.

“Are you afraid?”

“No, just nervous.” She was distressed to hear her voice shaking. The last thing Angeline wanted was to appear weak.

“You’ve been with a man before?” His hand slid up and down her arm softly, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

“Yes.” Her knowledge of mating had initially come from the animals around home, and then from the animal she’d married. This, however, was so different she was unsure of herself.

The only thing she did know was that this time she didn’t want to be a passive participant. Angeline wanted to use her body the way she wanted, not the way someone else wanted. He led her out of the workroom and into a bedroom. The snick of the door closing echoed in her ears. He leaned toward her, pulling her close.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and moist against her. His tongue reached out to lick her lobe and she jumped. He froze in place until she laughed.

“I’m sorry. You tickled me.”

His laugh was low and rumbly, echoing through her chest. She was beginning to warm up so quickly, soon she’d have her clothes off before he had a chance to take them off.

Well then, why shouldn’t she?

Angeline stepped away from him, her body already crying out from losing contact with his. She reached for the buttons on her shirtwaist and actually heard him swallow.

“What are you doing?”

“What I want to do.” She didn’t explain further, didn’t want to really. Angeline felt her own power surging through her. This time it would be her choice.

The cool night air hit her skin as she slid off first her shirtwaist, then her skirt. The one sad petticoat followed, leaving only her chemise between her naked skin and Sam’s touch.

Angeline shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. The very idea of him touching her was so appealing, her body reacted before he even came close. She chuckled at the thought of how different this was, then pushed away all her preconceived notions along with her chemise.

She stood there nude, her body there for him to see in the soft light coming through the curtains. He held out his hands and waited, allowing her to take the next step. Angeline’s heart tumbled a bit at the gesture. Sam was definitely the kind of man she could fall in love with, and not just a young girl’s love, but a deep and abiding love she would feel in her bones as well as her heart.

Angeline stepped closer and took his hands in hers, then placed them on her breasts. The nipples hardened instantly at the touch of his callused palms. She gasped at the contact as it sent a bolt of pure arousal straight to her core.

“Angel, you’re so beautiful, so damn soft.” His voice was full of need, echoing her own.

“Kiss me, Sam.”

“No need to tell me twice.” He lowered his head and pulled her against him.

The combination of her naked skin and his rough clothing made for a delicious friction. His lips were gentle, nipping at hers until she gave herself fully to the kiss. He had sensed her hesitation and waited. Angeline was ready for him, more than ready. She needed him to touch her all over.

Her tongue snuck out to lick his lips, then darted back into her mouth. She was an amateur, but she learned quickly. He moaned low in his throat and soon his mouth was open, his tongue repeating the same gesture. Hot, wet heat slid between them as she opened her mouth to his questing tongue. Soon they were mimicking the act of sex, plunging into each other’s mouths in a timeless dance.

She felt his cock harden against her belly and, to her surprise, she wasn’t afraid. Sam was so different from Josiah,
patient and gentle. Angeline wanted to mate with him and become one with the dark-haired, dark-eyed man who called to her heart.

“You’re still dressed.” She sounded winded, which in a way she was. Her heart raced, her breath was shallow, and her entire body was pulsing with the need for more.

He chuckled and stepped back, a shudder wracking his body. She realized not only did she wield power, but her kisses, her very body, held sway over his. It was a defining moment for her. Angeline reached out and started unbuttoning his shirt.

She did it because she wanted to, because she wanted to show Sam she wasn’t afraid, that she wanted to be joined with him. Although he allowed her to undress him, she felt the coiled strength within him just waiting for release. He was hard all over, muscles and sinew stretched over bone in a symphony of male beauty.

His chest was very nearly hairless with flat, copper-colored nipples. She ran her hands down his chest and his entire body hardened.

“Jesus, Angel, that, uh, feels good.” He was panting by the time she finished unbuttoning his trousers and slid them down. His union suit dangled from his waist, held up by the erection beneath them like a tent. She pulled until it pooled around his feet. His cock was very large, nestled between his legs with a set of nicely rounded balls.

It was the final test for her.

Angeline reached for him, finally throwing aside all memory of the horrors of her marriage. Sam was much more than just the man she was kissing. Her hand closed around his staff and a shudder rippled through his body. He was silk over steel, hard and so incredibly soft at the same time.

“I don’t think I can take much of that,” he choked out. “You—ah, damn, that feels good.”

Angeline felt her own body reacting to simply touching
his. He was a full-grown man in her power, and she felt free to do as she pleased. She leaned forward and brushed her nipples against his chest.

He grinned and pulled her flush against him. They were both completely nude and she gasped as she touched him from head to foot, skin to skin. He was hot and hard all over, such a contrast to her own body. Angeline breathed in his scent and that of their combined arousal—a heady combination.

“Angel,” he whispered against her ear. “I want to make love to you.”

Angeline opened her wings and leapt. “Yes, please.”

He led her to the bed, kissing her as they walked. Fierce kisses designed to make her want more, and they were working. By the time they got to the bed, she felt as if her body was on fire.