Unconventional Series Collection (28 page)

"It was as she had said about my mother
being on her deathbed. The dear woman was overjoyed when I told her of my
marriage and children. I never told my father. Two weeks after my arrival, my
mother died. My father, in his own way, had loved my mother, but didn't realize
how much until she was gone. He became a broken man and months later I learned
he had drunk himself to death. Our ranch was lost in foreclosure.

"After my mother was buried, I was on the
trail back to my family when I met up with some trappers who told me what had
happened to my tribe. I traveled constantly, only stopping to rest my horse
until I reached our camp. It was as the trappers had said. I found a few
survivors who had banded together and they recounted the horrors of that day.

"The soldiers had burned the bodies in a
mass grave and I sat beside the grave for days unable to believe these
beautiful people were dead. After that, my guilt at leaving my wife and
children almost killed me. The only thing that saved me was painting, and I did
so continuously. I painted for my loved ones. Somehow it made me feel their presence.
And now, with the loss of my arm, I feel nothing."

Jenny wiped tears from her eyes. She wanted to
comfort Ryder by kissing and caressing him, but, of course, she could not.
Instead she reached and held his hand.

* * *

Ryder felt the soft squeeze of Jenny's hand and
opened his eyes. He stared at their entwined fingers and gently extricated his.
He reached for the wine he had set aside and gulped it down. He had never
spoken of his heartache to anyone but Jonas, his wife's cousin. After his
family's death, he had gone to Jonas' family to tell them what had happened.
They had already known, and Dancing Flower, his wife's aunt who had married a
white man, had insisted that her son, Jonas "Soaring Eagle," stay
with Ryder until the madness in him subsided.

"Jenny, would you mind if we cancelled our
lesson today?"

"No, Ryder. Of course not."

After a week of not hearing from Ryder, Jenny
sent a letter assuring him his confidences were safe with her and expressing
sorrow for his losses. A week later he had not responded and she decided to pay
him an unannounced visit. After ringing the bell for the gate steward, instead
of the usual servant appearing, Clayton approached.

"He doesn't want to see you, Miss Samson.
He told me to send you away." Although Clayton spoke solemnly, concern
shadowed his eyes.

"Is he all right?"

Clayton hesitated. "No, Ma'am." He's
been drinking for days and refuses to leave his room."

"Please let me see him. Perhaps I can
help," Jenny pleaded, not knowing how she could help. "He can't go on
like this. He'll destroy his health."

Clayton blew a breath, mumbled something, and
then unlocked the gate. "I'll probably lose my job for this, but you're
right, he can't continue doing this. For a time, after you started coming, I
thought maybe things would change, and they did for awhile, but now he's worse
than before."

Jenny started to follow Clayton up the porch
steps, but paused. She made a decision. "Tell Ryder that I'm in the studio
and I don't intend to leave until he meets me there."

Clayton nodded. "Very well, ma'am."

Jenny followed the path to the studio and
stepped inside. Drawn to the unfinished portrait of herself, she pulled the
drape off and stared at her own visage. The painting was simply stunning in its
creativity. Because Ryder was painting with his left hand, there was no
crispness to the strokes. Muted colors blended and formed an ethereal goddess
as if viewed through a dream. Perfection to detail would have destroyed the
impact of the painting.

Speaking into the empty room, she said,
"You are a genius, Ryder. You have not lost your ability, you have
transformed it. I have to make you understand that you
must
finish this
portrait." Angling the painting, she made sure it was the first thing
Ryder would see upon entering the room.

Without hesitation, she stepped behind the
curtain and removed her dress and bonnet. Sitting on the settee, she pulled the
pins from her hair and settled the mass over her shoulders and waited. An hour
later, Ryder had not entered the studio and her eyes grew heavy.
I will wait
as long as needed, Ryder.
Lying down, she placed her hands under her cheek
and closed her eyes.

* * *

Ryder gulped down the dregs of his coffee and
splashed water over his face and chest. Per his instructions, Clayton had been
updating him hourly as to whether Jenny had left his estate. It had been over
two hours and she was still in the studio. Cursing, he dried himself and
slipped into a linen shirt, only half tucking it into his slacks. Shaking his head
to remove more cobwebs after his morning's whiskey binge, he ground his teeth.
After
today, I will be rid of you, Jenny. When I'm finished scolding, you will never
return. You will hate even the mention of my name.

Running his fingers through his hair, not caring
that its length had not been bound back with a tie, he stormed from his room
and passed Clayton. He said, "Clayton, I will deal with you later for
disregarding my instructions that Miss Samson not be allowed on the
estate!"

His faithful butler made a reply that was
unintelligible to Ryder because of the sound of his own blood pounding in his
ears. By the time he reached his studio, he could not remember being this mad
since the amputation of his arm. Pausing, he gulped some deep breaths because of
what he must do. Forcing himself to enter the room calmly, he made no sound as
he stepped beyond the threshold. Directly in his line of sight stood the
painting of Jenny, the linen cover tossed aside.

For a long moment, all he could do was stare at
the muted colors making up her face and body before moving his eyes to the
settee. His heart jumped into his throat. Jenny lay on her back sleeping; her
hair a glorious mahogany mane fanning out onto the red velvet settee on one
side of her, and falling over her shoulder and breast on the other. A tiny
smile tilted one corner of her mouth. She was more seductive in sleep than any
of the beautiful women he had paid handsomely for their expertise in the art of
seduction. Silently stepping forward, he craved to touch her, but forced his
hand to his side. He would memorize her innocence before cruelly sending her
away. Kneeling beside her, he allowed his gaze to travel from her eyes to her
pink lips, to the graceful line of her neck, and then down the length of her slender
body. When he returned his gaze to her face, her eyes were open and filled with
such tenderness he moaned. He wanted to verbally lash out and say such cruel
things as to make her run from him. Instead, he lifted a finger and traced the
bow of her lip. His only sound was to voice her name while bending to touch his
mouth to hers. "Sweet Jenny."

* * *

Ryder's whisper of her name above her lips
became more intoxicating to Jenny than the wine they had shared in the
countryside. Her response was to place her hands on either side of his face and
lift her head a few inches from the settee, raising her mouth to meet his. He
said her name again, wrapping his one arm around her and drawing her against
his thudding heart. When he touched his tongue to her lips, at first she didn't
realize what he wanted. Then he said, "Open for me, Jenny." And she
did. From that moment, she was lost to anything but Ryder's touch, Ryder's
smell, Ryder's taste. After a time, all she could do was moan with pleasure as
he gave attention to every inch of her body. When he pulled her onto the thick
rug in front of the settee, she did not resist. When he removed her clothing,
she did not resist. When his mouth suckled various parts of her body, she did
not resist. When he entered her body, she did not resist. She could not. Her
love for Ryder had been sealed long before their joining. At her cry of
pleasure, he whispered things in her ear she could not understand because he
spoke in another language. When she whispered words in return, words in
English, he cried out in his own fulfillment and showered her face with
passionate kisses, fierce and possessive. Finally, he pulled a coverlet off the
settee, blanketing them both before lying back and drawing her head against his
chest, stroking her hair. Closing her eyes, Jenny's happiness was complete.

* * *

Ryder sat in a chair across from the settee and
watched Jenny sleep. She still lay on the rug, her naked body covered except
for a shapely leg that rode over the top of the blanket. He wanted to paint her
exactly as she was now. His frustration mounted, along with self loathing. He
was the lowest of the low. He had taken what belonged to her future husband—her
virginity. Closing his eyes, he relived the wonder of her body. He had
whispered to her in the Blackfoot language because there were no English words
to convey the depth of his passion. Her response had ignited his desire beyond
comprehension. He hadn't felt so alive since making love with Perfect Feather.
For a moment, he envisioned a life with Jenny. Was it possible for someone as
jaded and selfish as himself to find happiness with a woman as pure as Jenny?
His groan of misery answered his question. Perhaps he would be happy, but not
Jenny. She deserved so much more than he could offer.

A sound brought his eyes back to her face and
the glow on her countenance tormented him. He could not allow her to make him
into her hero. Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm sorry, Jenny. That
should not have happened. I want you to know I will never tell anyone. I…"
he didn't finish because he didn't know what else to say.

Jenny's eyes turned stormy. "You're sorry?
Didn't you enjoy our…our…joining?"

Ryder cursed what he must do, but never waivered
in his stare. "No. I did not enjoy it. You have no expertise with men and
I never bed virgins."

"Then why did you do it?" she asked,
her every word radiating hurt.

"Because I'm a bastard with no moral
convictions and you made yourself available. I seldom turn down a…" When
he said the coarse word, he watched her cringe, and then went in for the kill.
"Jenny, I'm leaving now and I want you to dress and remove yourself from
my home—once and for all. I'll send a carriage to the gate to take you home.
Please do not return, for I will not entertain your company. You will rot
before I see you again."

Jenny gasped at his cruel words and he stood,
roaming her body with his eyes, wanting to memorize the essence of this
glorious woman that he would never see again. Finally, he turned away.

Before he reached the door, she yelled,
"Wait! I will have the final say!" He paused, and slowly turned
around. He would allow her that. She was standing now with the coverlet wrapped
haphazardly around her. One shoulder and almost her entire breast were
uncovered and a slit in the blanket rose to the top of her thigh. Her azure
eyes pierced him like a sword and his gut contracted. He had to clench every
muscle in his body to keep from running and pulling her against him to love her
again.

She said, "I feel sorry for you, Jake
Ryder. You use your past to stay your future. You have lived in darkness so
long it has consumed you. You cannot see what is in front of your face."
Her voice had risen in volume, but now she whispered a command, "Look at
the painting!"

Ryder obeyed.

"What do you see?"

"I see a once gifted artist's pathetic
attempt to regain what has been forever lost." He turned tormented eyes
back to hers.

"Now I will tell you what I see. I see a
masterpiece, one of the greatest paintings I have ever laid eyes on. Your
artistry emanates not from your psyche, but from your spirit. That painting is
not me; it is every man's desire. It is the ethereal woman, the dream of
perfection, the Eve of humanity's seeking. You, as Adam, have created
Eve."

Ryder stood mute at her words, unable to move or
breathe, and for just a moment, he saw what she saw. Blinking, he looked again
and saw amateurish brush strokes. Grinding his jaw, he said forcefully,
"Rubbish!" and stalked from the room.

Jenny smiled at her sister-in-law and then
reached to relieve her of Evangeline. It had only been five months since her
return to New York after visiting with her family, but it seemed like five
years. Now she was home again and fall was in full color. The weather was
chilly, but Luke's new carriage kept the occupants inside comfortable. Pulling
the blanket snuggly around the baby, Jenny held her close and cooed at her. She
kept her attention on Eva because she wasn't ready to face Angel.

To her family's shock, she had written of her
plans to leave school and return home, giving the arrival of her stagecoach.
She was grateful Luke was driving the carriage because his worried looks had
twisted her heart. She hadn't wanted to worry her family, but neither did she
want to explain anything; at least not yet. She would do that later.

Angel patted Jenny's knee. "Honey, I can
see you're hurting and we won't press you to tell us anything."

"Thank you," Jenny replied, and
brushed a tear aside.

The rest of the ride was traveled mostly in
silence while Jenny played with Eva.

Angel said, "We're almost to Pa and Ma's
place. Do you want me to take the baby?"

Jenny kissed Eva and handed her back to her
mother, and then turned her attention to watching her beloved home come into
view. Over the years it had changed with the planting of flowers and shrubs and
the addition of a kitchen, but the spirit of love remained constant. It was a
haven in a world of sorrow.

Luke reined the horses in at the porch and
jumped from his perch, opening the carriage door. First, he accepted the baby
from Angel and handed her to his stepmother who had rushed outside. Then he
helped his wife down. When he turned to assist Jenny, she refrained from making
eye contact. She did not want him to see the shame in her eyes. When her feet
touched ground, she was lifted into a hug by her pa. Holding him tight, she
said, "Oh, Pa, I'm so happy to be home."

He said in her ear, "Honey, we don't know
why you didn't finish your studies, but whatever the reason, we're here for
you."

"Thank you, Pa."

Abby handed Eva to Angel and stepped to hug
Jenny when Brant released her. "Oh, my baby girl, I've missed you so
much."

Jenny couldn't stop her eyes from misting when
she clung to her ma. She glanced over Abby's shoulder and saw Rusty and James
standing in the doorway. Rusty said, "C'mon inside it's gettin'
cold."

James agreed, "Yeah, let's hug in the
house."

Jenny wiped her eyes and rushed to enfold both
of her brothers, pushing them backwards into the cabin. The rest of the family
followed and quickly shut the door. A blazing fire created the homey atmosphere
Jenny had craved during her entire stay in New York. Removing her bonnet and
gloves, she rubbed her hands to warm them.

Ma Abby said, "Angel and I have cooked up a
feast for your homecoming, honey. You must be exhausted. Why don't you sit by
the fire and I'll have James bring you a hot chocolate while we prepare the
table."

"Ma, that sounds wonderful," Jenny
sighed.

After drinking her hot chocolate she leaned back
in her Pa's rocker and felt herself dozing. As always, dreams of whispered
words and kisses, sometimes passionate, sometimes heartrendingly sweet, and
heavy lidded smoky gray eyes perusing her face and body with blatant passion,
teased her with false genuineness. She didn't want to wake. She wanted to live
her dreams as long as possible.

"Jenny, sweetheart, supper's on the
table." Abby's gentle touch woke her. Staring into her mother's eyes,
Jenny wanted to throw her arms around her and tell her everything, but now was
not the time. That would come soon enough.

Throughout the meal, nothing was mentioned of
New York or Jenny's unexpected return. Mostly, the family talked about
happenings at the two ranches, her brother's and father's. Jenny inquired about
neighbors and local happenings and learned that the diner at the Mayflower
Hotel continued to have customers lined out the door to savor the meals cooked
by the Smythes and the desserts created by Angel. Luke proudly bragged about
his wife's culinary skills and despite her misery, Jenny found herself
chuckling at his palpable adoration.
If only Ryder could have felt even a fraction
of that much love for me.
Quickly, she changed the direction of her
thoughts to keep herself from crying in front of her family.

While Abby and Angel served coffee to everyone,
and Rusty and James squirmed in their seats, Jenny said, "I brought the
paperwork from the orphanage for the adoption of Nate. He's a wonderful boy and
you won't be sorry."

Jenny's words caught her younger brothers'
attention and they stopped poking each other. Rusty grinned, "I think
having another brother is great! When's he gonna get here?"

Jenny responded, "Well, the paperwork has
to be finalized, but the nuns said they'd do everything in their power to make
the governing board see the wisdom in allowing Pa and Ma to adopt him."
Jenny looked at her pa and mouthed, "Thank you."

Abby said, "Your pa and I just knew it was
the right thing to do when we read your letter asking us to consider it."

Jenny explained, "Of course, Nate still
needs to graduate from the academy and finish his lessons with the famous
sculptor, Michael Santos—it's the opportunity of a lifetime—but if everything
goes according to plan, he should be here by the end of spring."

Jenny's heart hurt whenever she thought about
the kindness Ryder had shown Nate, but the cruel words he had inflicted on her
after the glorious sharing of their bodies.

That night, after Jenny bid goodnight to her
family, Abby came into her room and sat on the side of her bed like she had
done so many times during her childhood. "Sweetheart, we've missed you
dearly, and I know your homecoming was unplanned. Something has happened that
you haven't told us." She smiled kindly, "Your pa wanted to barge in
here and demand you tell us what's wrong, but I explained that would be the
worst thing possible."

Abby patted Jenny's hand laying on top of the
old, worn quilt her birthmother had made when Jenny was very young. "I
know you'll tell us when you're ready. So don't feel pressured to speak your
mind until you want to."

Smiling, Abby bent to kiss Jenny's cheek. At the
gentle touch, Jenny sobbed and hugged her stepmother. "Oh, Ma. I don't
know how to say this without shocking you, but I'm going to have a baby."