Runaway, page 16
“He’s got lots of names, Mama,” Maggie told her eagerly. “His mama called him Tall Horse and I do, too, sometimes.”
“He’s a good man,” Clara said bluntly. “Works along-side Will. Fact is, he’s right handy with the horses, like Cassie says.”
“But an Indian, Ma? What do the folks in town say about him being here?” Josie was not so much indignant, so far as Cassie could tell, as she was worried about Many Fingers’ presence.
Clara drew herself up, a militant gleam appearing in her eye. “We do as we please here. We’re not about to let anyone tell us who can come and go on our place.”
Maggie tugged at her mother’s hand, reminding her of her presence. “Come in the house, Mama. We’re gonna eat supper and you can sit by me.” Grasping the carpetbag, the child led the way and the women followed.
“Maggie’s about to burst, isn’t she?” Cassie stretched and yawned, watching Will’s nightly ritual at the washbasin.
His soapy cloth halted its progress and he turned to look at her. “What happens if Josie takes a notion to trot off again, Cass? Do you know what that’ll do to that little girl?” He lifted his arm to wash beneath it, his hand taking long strokes, leaving a residue of soapsuds behind. They gleamed in the lamplight and Cassie watched with pleasure as her husband repeated the motion with the other arm.
He’d stripped to the waist, and she marveled anew at the rippling muscles across his back and the solid width of his shoulders. He was strong, his arms heavy and long, his chest powerful, even more developed since their arrival at the farm. Handling the horses took an enormous amount of skill and strength, and Will was good at what he did.
In fact, in all ways Will was good—a good man, kind to Maggie, caring of his mother. But beyond that was the way he took care of her. From within Cassie it bubbled up, this yearning she could not escape. Living with Will, sharing his bed and now carrying his child, she was becoming more and more a part of the man.
Now, as if she needed his touch, the power of his loving to make her whole, she anticipated his movements, hurrying him through his nightly ablutions, anxious for his presence beside her.
Will crossed the room, loosening his trousers as he came, sitting on the side of the bed to shed his boots before he rid himself of the rest of his clothing.
“I don’t want Maggie hurt again, or you either, for that matter,” he said, tugging the quilt into place. “You’ve spent a lot of hours with her, Cassie. And yet she can turn to Josie and just ignore you like you were a stranger.”
Cassie’s throat filled with emotion. “I felt a little jealous, Will,” she said meekly. “But I guess it’s to be expected. Josie’s her mother and you can’t deny her that. Maggie loves her, it’s that simple. And from what she said at suppertime, she won’t be seeing hide nor hair of Maggie’s father, anyway.”
“Well, Josie’s better off without that bast—” He broke off the word he’d almost spoken and hesitated. “I’m sorry, honey. I need to be careful what I say. I can’t let Maggie hear that kind of language from me. Bad enough I let slip a cussword every once in a while. She doesn’t need to match that kind of word up with her father, such as he is.”
“I doubt she knows what it means, Will.” Her fingers soothed him, rubbing against the tenseness in his neck, her touch easing to his shoulders to continue the massage more firmly.
“Feels good, Cass,” Will rumbled, ducking his head to allow her better access. “Right there, honey.” He hunched his shoulder as her fingers changed position.
“Turn over on your stomach,” she told him, shifting out of the way as he obeyed her, watching as he settled himself with a groan, before she lifted one leg over him to straddle his behind.
Her hands moved slowly, her fingers curving into his flesh, across his shoulders, down his spine and then back, the heels of her hands dropping to apply pressure as she went His skin was sleek, the golden hue a result of his shedding his shirt outdoors when it became too sweaty to wear. He’d worked long hours in the sun, mending fences and handling the mares and their foals, not to mention cutting hay and loading it on the hay wagon just this week.
“What will Josie tell Maggie about that man?” Cassie asked Will, wondering aloud as she considered the vast problem facing the young woman.
Will grunted, his shoulders rising in a helpless gesture. “Pretty hard to tell a little girl that her pa never got around to marrying her mother, isn’t it?”
“Well, Josie thought they were married, didn’t she?”
“I guess so. He probably knew he couldn’t get her in bed with him unless he made it legal. Must be he faked the whole thing.”
Cassie’s hands slowed their movement. “Was that…”
Will reared up with a snarl, Cassie almost falling from the bed at his abrupt movement. “Hell, no! Don’t even think that, Cassie. I already had you in my bed, and if I’d wanted to, I could have been makin’ love with you before we got here.”
She slid from his back, kneeling beside him as he rolled over in a smooth movement. “I wouldn’t have!” It was a firm denial of his claim.
“I could have coaxed you into it,” he maintained, lifting himself on one elbow as if to survey her anger. His own appeared to have dissipated, and he smiled. “But I didn’t, Cass, and that’s the whole issue. I thought more of you than to take advantage. And the longer we were together, the easier it was to see us gettin’ married, especially after we arrived here and we got thrown together the way we did.”
“Did you ever tell Many Fingers?” she asked, reaching to touch his face, her burst of fury shattered by his words.
“I have a notion he’s sorta figured things out on his own, since we went to Mill Creek. He doesn’t say much, though.”
“I think he likes Josie,” Cassie said slowly, remembering the Indian’s watchful gaze during supper.
“He’s only part white man, Cass. There’s not a chance of anything happening there.”
“I thought you weren’t all caught up on the Indian thing, Will,” she said slowly.
He moved a little closer, as if he were intrigued by the movement of her hand against the angle of his jaw. “I’m not. I just know how things are, and a white woman stands to lose a lot if she gets tangled up with a half-breed.”
Cassie bent to press the warmth of her mouth on his cheek, her lips tingling from the faint stubble of his beard as she moved against his skin. “I don’t care right now about them, Will,” she whispered, her lips moving to brush the curve of his ear. “I’d rather talk about us.”
His arm moved quickly, gathering her to his side, then rolling her beneath him. His arousal was immediate, a thick ridge against her leg, and she smiled at his response to her invitation. “I don’t think I want to talk at all,” he told her bluntly.
“I can read your lips,” she offered, her own parted and dampened by the tip of her tongue.
“Shoot, Cassie! If you don’t take the cake!” he muttered, his mouth curling as he stifled a chuckle. Their lips met, touched and parted, then with a groan he rolled with her again until she was atop him, soft breasts molded to his chest, legs on either side of his, her face within reach.
His hands clasped the back of her head and he drew her closer until their mouths were only a breath apart. He closed his eyes and a shudder rippled through him, his words a whisper against her lips.
“Damn, you taste good, woman.”
“Ma says you’re going to have a baby.”
Cassie smiled, unable to halt the automatic reaction to Josie’s words. “Yes,” she said. “In fact, I just realized it a couple of days ago myself.” After Will told me. That she had been oblivious to the fact was some indication of her ignorance, she had decided. Her mother had sadly neglected some parts of her education, that was for sure.
“It took me a while to figure it out when I got that way with Maggie,” Josie said with a sad little smile. “I didn’t have Ma there to ask, and I don’t think Bennett knew much about women, anyway.”
“How did you manage, by yourself?” Cassie asked quietly, unable to imagine such a thing.
“We lived in a small town, and a neighbor woman delivered Maggie late one night. Bennett was at the saloon playing cards, and he got mad because she sent her husband to get him. He said he lost out on a winning hand because of me.” Josie bent her head, concentrating on wiping the kettle she held. “He gambled for a living,” she said finally, and then lifted her head to look at Cassie. “I didn’t know that when I married him. Well, when I thought I married him.”
Her face flushed with bright color. “Will is so angry with me, Cassie. And I guess I don’t blame him. I was pretty stupid to believe everything Bennett Percival told me.”
“He’s not angry anymore, Josie. He was just worried about Maggie. Besides, I’d guess he thought of you as his little sister, like you were supposed to still be a child. And now you’re a woman grown, with more worries than you can shake a stick at.”
Josie nodded dejectedly, then slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, kettle and dish towel in her lap. “Will just looks right through me. Maybe he’s not angry, but the way he’s been acting the past couple of days, I think I’d almost rather have him holler at me than to treat me like I’m not even here.”
Cassie’s eyes filled with tears, her hurt for Josie almost equal to that she felt for Will. He loved his sister, she knew that for sure. But somehow he needed to sort things out in his mind, come to trust the woman Josie had become and find it in himself to forgive her for leaving her child behind.
“I think Will’s more concerned about you leaving Maggie and going off again,” Cassie said firmly. “He just doesn’t understand how you could do it the first time.”
“There’s no reason to worry about that,” Josie said firmly. “I don’t know how I’ll manage, but Maggie and I will never be apart again. I thought if I went away with Bennett last year, maybe we could work things out and…”
Josie’s mouth quivered and she bit hard against the surface of her bottom lip. “When he told me we weren’t even married and I left him, he didn’t even offer to send me home. Just laughed and told me I’d been a fool. I had to sell my clothes for train fare, and I still owe Mr. Hogan’s boy, down at the livery stable, for bringing me out to the farm like he did.”
“Oh, Josie! What a time you’ve had.” Cassie shook her head, her heart aching for the young woman. “You know your mother wants you here, don’t you, Josie? This is your home.”
“I always felt kind of left out, even when I was young,” Josie said quietly. “With three brothers around, my father didn’t pay me much mind, and Ma was always so busy keeping things up…” She shrugged, a lifting of her shoulders that spoke of the futility of her existence here as a young girl.
“Well, now’s your chance to make it right with your mother,” Cassie told her firmly. “And Will is going to be fine, you’ll see. He loves you, Josie. Would you like to see the moccasins he brought you?”
“He brought me something?” Her voice was hopeful, and Cassie stifled a surge of disappointment. She’d give the beaded moccasins to their rightful owner, even though she’d cherished them as the first gift Will had ever given her.
“Moccasins. I think he said he got them in Texas. I’ll run upstairs and find them as soon as we finish cleaning up the kitchen,” Cassie offered. “I had to wear them for a couple of days, so they’re not brand-new,” she cautioned. “But just wait until you see them. They’re so pretty.”
“I gave her the moccasins.” In the silence of repletion her words were soft, barely disturbing the air, whispering across his chest like a spring breeze. She shifted, her leg easing its way across his belly, the inside of her calf rubbing lightly against the dark patch of hair that guarded his manhood. It stirred a bit beneath her touch, and she sighed.
“I thought you said you couldn’t possibly move until morning.” The whisper was seductive this time, but the stiffening of his body, combined with the impotent snarl he uttered, warned her she had not succeeded in warming him to her purpose.
“I gave the moccasins to you.” His hand moved quickly, snatching her ankle, long fingers circling it without the faintest hint of a caress, and sliding her left leg to rest beside the right one. “When I want you to give Josie a gift, I’ll let you know.”
She snaked an arm across his chest, tucking her fingers in his armpit. “You bought them for her,” she reminded him gently.
“I don’t know why Ma never said anything in her letter about Josie leavin’ Maggie here and runnin’ off with her gamblin’ man.”
Cassie blew a small breath against his chest, stretching up just a bit to brush her lips across his flat male nipple. “Probably because she knew you’d put up a fuss, just like you have ever since Josie came home.”
“I haven’t said a damn thing to her!” His hand against her forehead applied just enough force to move her from the spot she had chosen to tease with her tongue.
“That’s the whole problem, Will. You act like she’s not even here, except for when you growl and give her one of your dirty looks.” Her fingers tangled in the hair beneath his arm and she tugged a bit.
The muscles in his arm tightened, squeezing her fingers in place. “Just cut that out, Cassie. You’re not gonna get around me with your shenanigans. I’m willing to let Josie stay here, so long as she takes care of Maggie and does her share around the place. I’ll probably feel better about it when I see she’s plannin’ on stickin’ around.”
“I didn’t know you could be so hard-hearted, Will.”
His voice growled in her ear, vibrating against the wall of his chest. “I just believe in bein’ up front about things. I guess I was raised to tell the truth, and that’s what I’m doin’ right now. I still feel guilty as hell over tellin’ that sheriff you were my wife. I feel some better knowin’ I’ve made it right, but lyin’ is about the worst sin I can think of. If I can’t trust the people I love, who can I depend on?”
He turned a bit, enclosing her in his embrace and whispering with an intensity that vibrated throughout her being. “I’ll never be dishonest with you, Cassie, and I expect the same from you.”
Cassie was silent, the almost forgotten specter of death shattering her cocoon of comfort. She’d lied from the first, telling Will she’d run off from Remus Chandler, threatening him with a knife. She’d let him claim her as his wife. She’d allowed him to speak marriage vows with her, and even put a baby in her belly. All with the horror of that night unspoken between them.
Perhaps now was the time to speak the words that might take him from her forever. What would he say if she were to blurt out the facts of that night? I killed a man. I stabbed him in the back and washed his blood from my hands in the stream.
How could she explain her fear? How could Will forgive the deception she’d tangled them in from the first? He didn’t even love her—why would he be inclined to keep her with him, should she admit to such a crime? Perhaps because of their child?
Cassie’s hand slipped to rest against the soft flesh of her belly where not even the slightest bulge announced the presence of the baby they’d made in this bed. She’d protect that small bit of flesh with her life, if need be. Rotting in a jail cell or dangling from a rope might be a fitting end for a murderer; but her child deserved a life, and if deceit on her part could provide it, she would be forever silent.
“Cassie? You sleepin’ down there?” Will’s deep, rumbling tones stirred her from the frantic thoughts that beset her and she shook her head, wincing as the locks tangled beneath his arm pulled at her scalp.
“Let me loose, Will,” she mumbled. “You’re lying on my hair.” Gone was the playful mood she’d worked hard to create between them earlier. Only a deep sadness remained to wrap her in its depths. She turned from him, gathering up the length of her hair, quickly plaiting it in a rough braid.
Will waited while she settled herself, then curled his long body behind her, his knees pushing up beneath her bottom, his arm tugging her in place. “You don’t think it’s bad for the baby, me lovin’ you every night, do you, Cass?”
She shook her head. If he took away the joy she found in their hours alone beneath these covers, she’d be bereft of comfort. The love she felt for the man she’d married could be expressed only by the giving of her self into his keeping. She’d told him once aloud, and he’d accepted her declaration without comment.
She closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of his big body, luxuriating in the feel of his hand cupping her breast. It was all right, she decided with firm resolve. If he never told her he loved her, she’d survive. And the fact was, he’d managed to convince her pretty thoroughly that he enjoyed the warmth of her body and the pleasure he found in her arms.
For now, that would be enough.
Chapter Thirteen
Eben and Louise came right from church, their spankingnew two-seated surrey gleaming in the sunshine. With a great flourish of prancing hooves and bells jingling on the harness, the vehicle halted near the back door and Eben scanned the yard.
“It’s Eben,” Josie whispered from behind the kitchen curtain.
“Well, go on out and tell your brother hello,” Clara told her, standing in front of the open oven door, sliding a pan of biscuits from sight.
“Does he know I’m here?”
“Well, if he doesn’t, he will in a minute, won’t he?” her mother asked practically.
“Hello in there!” Eben called, sliding from the surrey and lifting his arms to Louise. Swinging her to the ground in a flurry of skirts, he gave her a quick kiss, then looked around.
“I saw that, Eben,” came Will’s mocking call from the door of the barn. “Kissin’ in broad daylight, like a newlywed.”
Louise blushed, ducking her head in obvious embarrassment, and Eben laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist and ushering her to the porch.
“You come over to give me a hand in the barn?” Will asked, his long strides bringing him to the pump.
