Runaway, page 25
“Well, I’ve never said those words to another person in my life before, except my mother, and I don’t think that counts,” she said soberly.
“I’m glad you chose me, that I’m the one you love,” he told her after a moment, rubbing his cheek against the fullness of her breast, as if unable to meet her gaze any longer.
His hands moved to her waist and he pushed at the denim pants she wore. “You don’t even have these things done up, just this belt holdin’ them together,” he said with a dry chuckle.
“They don’t fit anymore. I had to let my shirt hang over the top.” She lifted her bottom as he wiggled the pants past the curve of her hips and down the length of her legs. Then, tucking his thumbs in the top of her drawers, he stripped them off in an easy motion.
One big hand stretched across the swell of her belly and he held it still, spanning her from one hipbone to the other. “It’s hard to believe that there’s really a baby in there,” he said quietly, his eyes closing as he tested her resilient flesh, pressing firmly as if he would measure the child within.
“Sometimes I can feel it move,” she said, closing her eyes against the pure pleasure of his touch. It was strangely sensual, this exploration of the tiny life they had managed to create. A sensation like that of butterfly wings trembling in a breeze caught her attention, and she reached to press his hand more firmly against the movement.
“Can you feel that?” It came again, stronger this time, nudging her with a minuscule limb, if she could trust her judgment. From beneath Will’s fingertips the small being wiggled, perhaps protesting his encroaching presence, as he pressed her flesh more firmly.
“Cassie? Was that the baby? That little thumpy thing that was-right there?” He wiggled his index finger against her and she laughed aloud, pleased by the wonder in his voice.
“He’s letting you know he’s in there,” she whispered, her hands covering his as quick tears formed in her eyes. She did that a lot these days, her love for the child she carried spilling over in a happiness that could find release only in tears of joy.
“It stopped,” he said after a moment, disappointment rife in the announcement.
“Your mother says that I’ll soon be wishing for peace and quiet, when it gets bigger and takes up all the room down there.”
“Will there still be room for me? Can we still…you know.” His hand crept lower, his fingers sifting through the curls that guarded her woman’s flesh. She moved against his touch, her legs allowing him room.
“I don’t know why not,” she whispered, her voice quivering as his hand pressed deeper. “I’ll go see Doc next time I go to town. Maybe I should ask him.”
“You’re so soft, Cassie. I’m always afraid I’ll hurt you, that maybe I’m too big. I’ve been tryin’ not to lay on you too heavy lately.” His voice was a soothing whisper, his fingers coaxing her with a slow rhythm, as if he would ease the way for his swollen manhood.
She reached for him, her hands pressing against his head, fingers twining in the heavy fall of his hair, guiding him to suckle the flesh he had abandoned for the moment.
“Please!” Her whisper was urgent and he complied, his groan of satisfaction the response she had hoped to gain. Her breath was quick and shuddering, her eyes closing tightly against the heated pitch of pleasure his fingers created.
And then he was gone, his hands on either side of her as he rose to find his place, urging her to accommodate him with swift yet gentle movements of her limbs. She reached for him, unwilling to lose the heat of his body, crying out softly as she grasped his waist, pulling him down to rest against her.
He leaned on his forearms lest he crush her, his arousal seeking entrance, and she lifted her hips to the nudging presence, opening and shifting as she pressed upward. And then a sigh of satisfaction whispered from her lips as she contained him. A groan of near fulfillment escaped from between his gritted teeth as he measured his length within her.
Their bodies moved together, with a knowledge imprinted over the nights of loving they had known in this bed. He shifted and she moaned. He lifted himself and she grasped him with the force of one denied. His teasing abated and he bent to her, his movements more forceful, far beyond the soothing of her tender flesh.
It was a coming together such as they had never shared, a dominant, urgent, almost primitive possession of her body that brought her to mindless pleasure. He lowered his mouth to accept her cries, muffling the sounds that burst from her in a crooning cadence of sheer delight. And as she subsided, her whimpers fading, her breathing shuddering against his lips, he rose above her.
His mouth twisting in a silent, wordless plea, his throat taut, his head lifted, he sought his own satisfaction, barely able to contain the fierce urgency that drove him. She met his demand with the force of her young body, seeking to pleasure him as if it were a gift she could afford him. Her rapture hardly less than his own, she held him closely as he muffled his words of fulfillment against her shoulder.
“Cassie!” He called her name softly, shuddering against her slender form, still enclosed within the sanctuary of her flesh.
Then, in the trembling aftermath, he rose a bit, holding his full weight from pressing against her, his mouth caressing her with countless kisses across her cheeks and forehead, whispering broken phrases. She twisted her head, seeking the warmth of his mouth and capturing it as he brushed across her lips. Her mouth was demanding as she opened her lips to his urgent caress, and she held him with hands that sought his attention, her fingers gripping tightly.
“I don’t care if you want to hear it or not, Will Tolliver,” she whispered fiercely. “I love you, and that’s that!”
Chapter Nineteen
The leaves had begun to turn color and the corn in the field was in shocks, waiting to be loaded on the wagon. Shucking corn was a blister-breaking job, Will said. No one looked forward to it, so most everyone tried to get it done with a party thrown in to ease the chore.
The word was out. Will Tolliver was throwing a barn dance and corn shuckin’, come the third Saturday in October. Eben brought his team early in the morning, Louise perched on the wagon seat next to him. Within minutes, another followed, Elizabeth keeping herd on the three boys riding on the flat wagon bed behind her and Samuel. Baskets of food accompanied them, and Clara was hard put finding places to store things.
Louise waddled. There was no other word to describe her gait, Cassie decided.
“You poor soul!” Clara exclaimed, hugging her daughter-in-law tightly. “It won’t be long now, honey. I’ll warrant you won’t last till December, with that load you’re carrying.”
“Doc says maybe by Thanksgiving, from the size of me,” Louise confided. “He thinks for sure it will be twins.”
Cassie patted her own rapidly expanding girth. “For the first time in days I don’t feel so fat,” she said with a sigh, and then ducked as Louise responded with a fist upraised in feigned anger.
“My only consolation is that I’ll be skinny come Christmas, and you’ll still be totin’ around a lapful,” Louise answered smugly.
Clara laughed aloud, and Cassie looked up quickly. That particular sound had been missing from this household for longer than she wanted to remember. Since the day Bennett Percival had died, right out in the yard between the corncrib and the back porch.
“She’s doin’ better, isn’t she?” Will asked quietly from the kitchen doorway.
Cassie nodded. “I thought she’d never laugh again,” she whispered. “She’s been carrying a load of guilt, Will. Even if the man was bad to the core, it’s a blot on a person’s soul to take a life.”
“Come on, Cassie. Smile for me,” Will whispered in her ear. “Don’t let it bother you so, honey. You’d think some days that you were the one that fired that shotgun, instead of Ma. She’ll be all right.”
“You just don’t know what it does, Will, to know that you’ve…” She hesitated, the words she’d held in abeyance on the tip of her tongue.
“To know what, Cass? What are you tryin’ to say?” He turned her, one hand firm on her arm, the other grasping her shoulder. His eyes swept over her face, as if he sought an answer in the expression she wore.
“Will you two move out of that doorway?” Clara called from across the room. “Eben’s tryin’ to get in with an armload of food and you’re blockin’ his way. Seems to me you could lend a hand, Will, instead of snugglin’ up with Cassie there.”
Louise laughed from her perch atop a stool near the table. “He’d better snuggle now. She’ll be lookin’ like me before long and he won’t be able to get those long arms around her anymore.”
Will’s mouth twisted in a wry grin. “Don’t you worry, Louise. She’ll never get big enough to keep me away.” He turned Cassie to the door, allowing Eben to pass them. His hand beneath her chin, he lifted Cassie’s face, his eyes watchful, with unanswered questions alive within their depths.
“I want to talk to you later on, you hear?” It was not a request. Even as a whisper, the tone of his voice brought a moment of panic to Cassie’s heart.
She nodded her reply, unable for a moment to meet his gaze. “I need to tell you about something, Will.” She closed her eyes against his gaze, unable to face him any longer with the burden of her guilt between them.
A wagon drew around the side of the house, harnesses jingling, its occupants shouting greetings, and Will turned to hail the occupants.
“I need to help your mother,” Cassie said quickly, waving a hand at the Barnwell family as they began unloading their contributions to the all-day celebration.
Almost reluctantly, Will released her, his long look a silent reminder of their unfinished conversation.
In an almost jubilant mood, Cassie went back into the house. Today she would tell him. It was almost as if he already knew, as if his suspicions were aroused. She smiled to herself. It would be like setting free her spirit, to finally tell Will the truth, to make things right between them.
A long table made of planks set up on sawhorses provided a place for the crowd to eat beneath the trees in the side yard. Beneath the overhanging branches, where autumn leaves had just begun to fall in earnest, several quilts had been spread, providing a place for children to stretch out for naps.
“It’s a perfect day, isn’t it?” Clara asked wistfully. “Look out there at Jeremiah, working along with the men. Nobody seems to be makin’ a fuss over him bein’ what he is, do they?”
Cassie watched for a few minutes as the men worked together, unloading corn into the crib by the bushelful, their noisy joshing making fun of an onerous chore.
“There’ll always be some who won’t want him here,” she said quietly, “but most folks are coming to accept him.”
“Marrying up with Josie was what caused the most of the trouble. Till then, they didn’t mind that he was here.”
“They knew it wouldn’t be easy,” Cassie said bluntly. “And someone will always be around to point a finger and have something to say about them. I guess it’s just the price they have to pay for breaking the rules people have lived by for a lot of years.”
“Doesn’t make it right,” Clara said stoutly.
Cassie shot her a look of disbelief. That Clara, who had been the last of the family to accept the marriage with a degree of goodwill, should now be a staunch defender of the union was almost not to be believed.
“He’s pret’ near half white, after all,” Clara added, and then with a sheepish look in Cassie’s direction ducked her head. “I was wrong to shun him at first, Cassie. He’s a good man. He’s made Josie happy, and Maggie loves him.”
Throughout the afternoon Cassie worked unceasingly beside Clara and several of the other women, filling and refilling bowls and platters and carrying them out to the tables where the workers ate in shifts. Children ran beneath the trees and down the lane to the cornfield, picking up stray cornstalks and carrying them back, waving like trophies over their heads.
And then, as the sun began to seek the horizon, the activity slowed. The corncrib was almost full to bursting, great piles of cornstalks mute reminders of the work accomplished. A collection of varicolored ears hung along the wall of the barn, souvenirs of the husking, each a precious discovery, guaranteeing its finder a kiss from the person of their choice.
A great hullabaloo had gone up as Eben had waved his trophy in victorious celebration, and he was the butt of many jokes as several men passed his way to comment on the kissing he’d already obviously done.
Louise blushed prettily, aware of her position of honor as Eben’s wife and a favorite among the ladies. Elizabeth held her youngest on her lap, Luke sucking his thumb as he fought droopy eyelids. And amidst it all, Cassie basked in the reflected glow of the family she had so long yearned to possess.
In the barn a fiddle began to sound out a quick refrain, and John Hogan was summoned to call a square dance from the small platform they’d hastily constructed. A few of the. men sat at the long table, unobtrusively passing a jug of homebrew down the line, pouring it into their empty coffee cups.
“You gonna dance, Cassie?” Clara called out.
Cassie turned from her position near the barn door, where she’d been wistfully watching the couples forming squares. She shook her head. “I don’t know where Will is. Besides, I need to help clear the food.”
Clara shook her head. “You’ve done your share, girl. Go find that man of yours and at least watch the fun. They’ll be playin’ some slow music later on, when Myrtle Hogan. gets her accordion out.”
Cassie stepped into the barn, sighting Will at the back, near the box stalls. He met her gaze across the distance, his look sober, and then with a nod he began making his way to where she stood. The dancers were in motion now, swirling and circling the floor, their laughter rising in unison with the sound of flying feet against the wooden floor.
From outside the barn a new voice caught Cassie’s ear, and she turned to watch as Sheriff Mosley walked toward her, a tall stranger at his side. With a sinking heart she focused on the man, knowing already that her time had run out. With anxious eyes she turned again to locate Will, but he had halted to speak to a neighbor, his own gaze glancing in her direction even as he spoke.
“Miz Tolliver.” Sheriff Mosley nodded a greeting as he faced Cassie. “This here is a U.S. marshal from Texas. He’s come to talk to you.”
“Now?” Cassie managed the single word in a hushed whisper. “Can it wait till tomorrow?”
The marshal shook his head. “I’ve got business in St. Louis in another day or so, ma’am. If we could get this out of the way this evening, it’d be a big help to me.”
“Maybe on your way back from St. Louis?” Cassie asked quietly, her eyes darting to where Will stood. He’d clapped a hand on the neighbor’s shoulder and now, even as she watched, he began to make his way past the dancers, idle now as they waited for the music to begin once more.
“I’m sure Will’s gonna want to come along,” Sheriff Mosley said quietly. “We just need to get a statement down in writing from you, Miz Tolliver.”
“He doesn’t know.” Cassie closed her eyes as she spoke the words. “I was going to tell him tonight.”
“Tell me what, Cass?” He was behind her, his warmth a welcome presence, and she turned to face him.
“I need to go to town with the sheriff and this gentleman for a while, Will. You’d better stay here with the folks and keep things going,” she said brightly, blinking her eyes lest the tears form.
“Cassie! What’s going on?” Elizabeth approached, her two-year-old sleeping on her shoulder. Brow furrowed, she cast a suspicious look at the lawmen.
“I have to go to town,” Cassie repeated.
“I’ll go along,” Elizabeth told her firmly. “Just let me lay this child down somewhere.”
“No, it’s all right, Elizabeth,” Cassie said quickly, but the other woman had turned and sought out a quiet corner, tucking Luke in beside another sleeping youngster.
Louise approached slowly, hand on her back as she made her way to the door. “Is something wrong?” Her gaze sought Cassie’s face. “Can I help?”
“No!” Cassie said sharply. And then at Louise’s stunned expression, she moved to hug her. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to shout at you.” Her eyes seeking Will’s, Cassie felt as though the darkness was overtaking her, even within the brightly lit barn.
“I’m going along,” he said firmly. “I think you need to tell me what this is all about, Sheriff.”
“No, you stay here and sort things out, Will. Elizabeth and I will go with Cassie.” Louise stood at the barn door, looking strangely majestic, like a ship in full sail, her mouth set, her chin lifted with firm purpose.
“I’ll go, too.” Clara spoke from the shadows. “Cassie needs womenfolk around her.”
“Well, hell, we don’t need to make a party of it,” Sheriff Mosley muttered, looking around the barn as the laughter halted and the neighbors began talking softly among themselves.
“I’ll ride my horse,” Will said. “I’ll be right behind you, Cass.”
The covey of women headed from the barn toward the house, where a surrey had been left, the reins tied to the post at the corner of the porch. At the forefront, Sheriff Mosley walked with Clara, followed by the marshal, holding Cassie’s arm in a gentle grip.
“What’s going on?” Louise asked in an undertone, grasping Elizabeth’s elbow as the other woman set a slower pace.
“It seems the lawman wants to talk to Cassie. Whatever it is, she needs to know we’re there.” Elizabeth looked at the heavily pregnant woman beside her. “Can you make it, Louise? Will you be all right?”
Louise nodded. “We have to stick together, don’t we? We’re all Tolliver women, after all.”
