Jolie smiled, the same satisfied expression on her face that first appeared on Eve’s face in Eden. She was in control. “I’ve seen you, I’ve felt you inside me, but I haven’t had the chance to play with you.”

  Austin hung on her every word, mesmerized as her hand moved in what seemed like slow motion toward his aching manhood. “Please. Do as you will.” He held his breath, then let it out in a hiss when her fingers finally came in contact with his flesh. “Oh, God,” he groaned, afraid he was going to erupt and spill his seed from just her touch.

  “You’ll have to tell me what to do,” Jolie murmured as she caressed him. She was fascinated. “You’re so hard, yet smooth.” Lowering her head, she ran her lips across his shaft delicately.

  Austin jumped and she jerked her head up, staring at him.

  “Don’t stop. God, please don’t stop.”

  With a pacified, feline smile she returned to her task, wrapping her hand around the stalk, testing its weight, soothing her thumb over the tip. He threw his head back against the pillow. “That’s it, honey, move your hand up and down on me.”

  Jolie complied, holding as much of him as she could in her small fist. Locking her gaze with his, she couldn’t help but feel thrilled when he reacted so honestly to her awkward attempts to please him.

  “Faster, baby.”

  She multiplied her efforts as Austin lifted his hips, offering himself to her. Powerful in his vulnerability.

  He wanted to ask, he needed her mouth, but he didn’t know if she would want to…

  “Can I kiss you?”

  “I would be most honored,” he said between pants, totally enthralled at the sight of her. But when she bent to him and he felt the first lap of her little tongue, then the heaven of her lips as they slid into place – Austin bowed his back, raised his hips and tossed his head on the pillow.

  Bracing over him, Jolie immersed herself to loving Austin. The act of taking him in her mouth was strange, but she liked it. She held the tip in her mouth, using her tongue to swirl and lick delicate patterns, sucking a little. Using her hand, she held him steady, her thumb rubbing in soothing circles. Beneath her lips she could feel his heartbeat, hammering as hard as her own. And when she took him deeper, his hand came up to grip her hair. At first she thought he was trying to pull her back, so she started to let go. “No!” he bellowed, holding her head firm. Jolie would’ve smiled, but her mouth and lips were otherwise occupied.

  Austin was in paradise. What she was doing to him was so far beyond what he’d thought he’d ever share with anyone that he was expecting to awake any moment. This was so good. He wasn’t going to last much longer. “If you want me to make love to you, you’re going to need to…”

  Jolie didn’t want to stop. She placed a restraining hand on his stomach, a nonverbal request for him to be still. This was her time, her way of showing him what he meant to her. Not having any way of knowing whether or not she was doing it right, Jolie just did what she could, lavishing him with love using her lips, tongue and hands.

  Austin gave himself over to her, surrendering his will. Helplessly, his hips bucked, his pulse pounding as his desire rose higher and higher until he shouted her name. “Jolie!”

  When he spilled into her mouth, Jolie accepted it. Nothing of him could ever be distasteful to her. She kept holding him, soothing him, only removing him from her mouth when he began to relax. Then she pressed kisses to his thighs, to his spent shaft, showing him how much she loved sharing this with him.

  Austin pulled her up his body until he could reach her lips. “Thank you, my wife.” Cradling her close, he whispered, “Give me a minute to recover and I’ll make this a honeymoon you’ll never forget.”

  She cuddled against him contentedly.

  Forgetting him or this wonderful day wasn’t even a possibility.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  When you’re happy, time seems to slow until it flows like a gentle stream. Each moment is precious. Each word is meaningful. Jolie had never been so content. She and Austin made plans – what they would plant, where they would build onto the house. “I have enough money to build us a future, Jolie. I can take care of you.”

  “I trust you completely, Austin. I don’t need a lot of things to be happy.”

  Today, he was breaking up more new ground, cutting down trees and burning underbrush. Jolie was inside the cabin, cutting quilt blocks from the material left over from her new dress and from a shirt of Austin’s that had seen better days. Every bit of material was saved. Even the garment she’d worn on her slave walk hadn’t gone to waste. She’d cut the tattered gown into rags for her woman’s time. With that thought, her scissors froze in midair.

  “Oh, my goodness.” Jolie tried to think. When was the last time she’d had her monthly? Using her fingers, she counted the days, a realization dawning in her heart. Was she pregnant? She hugged herself, treasuring the thought. The possibility was tantalizing. She would tell Austin as soon as she was sure. With a secret smile, she imagined how excited he would be.

  “Jolie!” She heard Austin shout. Moving to the door, she looked out to see what was the matter. “Someone’s coming!”

  “Company?” Her hands went to her hair, then smoothed down her skirt. Stepping on the threshold, she couldn’t imagine who might be coming to see them.

  Seeing her at the door, Austin cautioned her. “Stay inside!” He’d never told her about the wanted posters. Picking up his rifle, he considered what he’d do if this was about Jolie. They weren’t taking her from him, not without a fight. Of that fact, he was certain.

  Obeying him without question, Jolie shut herself in and waited.

  Austin stood, staring, until he could make out who was riding up. He recognized Armand Pierce and Frost Thorn. There was also a man with a long gray beard with them, a man he didn’t recognize. Knowing they weren’t here for a casual visit, he called out. “How can I help you gentlemen?”

  None of them spoke until they were assembled in a straight line in front of him. An uneasy feeling knotted Austin’s stomach. If this was about Jolie…

  “Austin, we’ve come about that girl you have living with you, the one you spoke of in my store.” This opening statement was from Thorn.

  Austin lifted his weapon, not aiming it at them, but near enough so they’d know he meant business. “What about her, Frost?”

  “Now, hold on, friend,” Armand held his hands up. “We mean no harm. We’ve come for your help.”

  Austin still wasn’t convinced. If they thought he’d turn Jolie over to them, help them harm her – well, they were about to get a surprise. “What kind of help are you talking about?”

  The stranger spoke up, sitting up straighter on his horse. “I’m Bertrand McNulty, newcomer to the area. My wife, Martha, has taken ill. A lot of people are sick.”

  Armand nodded his head. “Celeste is sick, Austin. The doc’s even sick. They’ve taken most everyone to the mission to quarantine them there.”

  “Yes.” Thorn spoke up. “We’re doing the best we can, but people are dying. One of the Indians at the mission told us the fever struck their tribe weeks ago, but they received help from an unlikely source.”

  When he paused, Austin swallowed nervously. “What does that have to do with us?”

  Armand continued. “We were told that your Jolie has medicine that will help.”

  “Some say she’s a witch, but we all agree we don’t have much choice.” Bertrand’s eyes were hard.

  Austin didn’t like this; he didn’t like it at all. “I don’t know.”

  “We could make you.”

  Bertrand drew his rifle, but Thorn Frost pushed the barrel down. “No, we’re not going to force them, McNulty. Mr. McCoy will do the right thing.”

  “Please, Mr. McCoy. We’re begging you.” Pierce added his plea.

  Behind him a soft voice spoke. “I’ll go, Austin. You can stay here and take care of things. I’ll come back when it’s over.”

  He went to her, turning his back on the men. “I hate this. Putting you in danger, insulting you.”

  “We don’t have a choice. They need me.” She looked up into his face, adoring him so much it hurt her heart. “If we needed something, we’d want them to help us.”

  Sensing her resolution, he bowed his head, acquiescing. “I don’t want you to go.” He let out a hard breath. “But I suppose it wouldn’t be right to ignore their plight. I will not stay behind, however. As I told you not too long ago, where you go, I go.”

  “Thank you, Austin.” She laid her head on his chest, taking a moment to take comfort from his steady, strong heartbeat.

  With one hard hug, he released her, then turned to give the men an answer. “We will accompany you back to the settlement. We’ll need a little time to get ready.”

  The three men waited, not willing to risk that they would change their minds. Not knowing what else to do, Austin released his stock. When Jolie protested, he tried to ease her fears. “This way they can forage for grass and get to the water. I can’t leave them in the pen to starve.”

  “What if something happens to them? What will we do?” she asked with trepidation in her eyes.

  “We’ll start over.” He kissed her gently. “As long as I don’t lose you, everything else is replaceable.”

  While Austin packed the wagon, his bag of coins and dog included, Jolie gathered her herbs, using every spare moment to collect more. The men helped as they could, seeming to keep one eye on Jolie. This displeased Austin greatly. Once they were ready to go, he took one last look at his place, not knowing when he would see it again.

  The journey to the mission took two full days. On the way, Bertrand McNulty took sick and Jolie tended him. They placed him in the back of the wagon and she stayed at his side, bathing his face with water and making him drink water strengthened by steeped herbs. Since all eyes were on her, when she came to the part of her ritual where she would repeat the prayers, Jolie did so under her breath.

  Before they’d left home, Austin had whispered to her to be careful. While they needed her help, the town’s people would be suspicious of her ways. Jolie expected this and promised him she would. By the time they made it to Nacogdoches, she was trembling with nerves. Jolie was smart enough to realize this could turn out badly for her and Austin.

  Seeing the settlement for the first time, with all the people milling about made her realize how cut off she’d been from civilization. Jolie didn’t regret it, she wanted to be with no one more than she wanted to be with Austin. Yet, she missed the company of a female. Her eyes took in everything, especially the way people watched them as their wagon passed through town, headed for the mission. Apparently, their coming was no secret. People pointed. People whispered. They were expected.

  “Are you all right?” Austin asked over his shoulder, sensing Jolie felt uncomfortable with so many eyes upon her. He hoped to high heaven, those wanted posters had rotted off the walls and fallen to the ground.

  “Yes, I am fine.” The words were visible, her warm breath making steam when it hit the colder air. Jolie held on to the side of the buckboard, resisting the jostle caused by the wheels traveling over the uneven ground. “Are we close?”

  “Yes, the mission is just around the bend on the other side of the old Stone Fort.”

  “I wish this was all over,” she muttered.

  “I know,” Austin said with a heavy heart. As they passed the fort, Austin wondered what was happening with Edwards, Parmer, and the rest. Right now, they had more pressing concerns. He just hoped peace and good reasoning would prevail.

  Upon arriving at the mission, they were met by people frantic for help.

  “Are you the doctor?” one woman asked, running alongside the buckboard.

  “I have come to help,” Jolie assured, reaching out to touch her hand.

  Austin was glad to see Father Miguel coming toward them. He had no desire to see Father de Leon anytime soon. “Thank you for coming,” he said. “When I learned the woman the Indians described to me was the one you had spoken to us about that day, I could see the hand of God in all of this.”

  “I hope so, Padre,” Austin muttered as he slowed the wagon down as he moved to an area where he could make camp.

  “More have died. We are ready to do whatever this gracious woman tells us to do.” Father Miguel assisted Jolie down from the wagon, sending men over to bring McNulty inside to be placed on a pallet.

  Austin helped, then returned to Jolie’s side. “She’ll do what she can, Father. Please don’t hang all your hopes on her, this disease is a plague that seems to come and go at will.”

  “We are praying to God that Jolie can help. In my village, back in Mexico, my mother used herbs. Even the doctor spoke of this, he was willing to try anything.” Father Miguel filled his arms with Jolie’s supplies, leading them through the mission yard toward the chapel.

  “I thought all this doctor did was bleed people.” Austin countered, “What does he think of all this? Is he up and about yet?”

  Father Miguel shook his head sorrowfully. “He died yesterday.”

  The priest’s news set a solemn tone. Jolie didn’t hesitate. She directed Austin and the others to bring plenty of fresh water. The fever stripped the body of liquids, and while some found it hard to keep anything down, she’d been taught by her grandmere how important getting as much water into the patient as possible could be.

  The pews in the chapel had been pushed back against the wall and row after row of pallets were laid out on the floor. Family members hovered near some of the patients, unwilling to leave their loved ones despite the danger. Jolie understood. “Hello,” she spoke to a few of them. “I am ready to start passing out medicine.” Several rose to assist her. They didn’t stop to exchange pleasantries or learn one another’s names. Those things would come later.

  As she worked, Jolie was conscious of the whispers around her. A blush rose in her cheeks. She ignored it and them. From one patient to another she moved, bathing their faces, giving them herbs mixed with water, saying her prayers and begging the gods for healing.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Austin whispered, hunkering down next to her while she tended a small child who was burning up with fever.

  “Neither have I,” Jolie agreed. “I would feel better if you kept your distance. I worry about you.”

  “And you think I don’t worry about you?” Austin argued. “If I had my way, someone else would be doing what you’re doing and I’d have you home safe and sound.”

  She smiled sadly. “There is no one else to help.”

  Austin knew she was right, but it didn’t change how he felt.

  * * *

  A few days later, they had settled into some semblance of a routine. Austin stood outside, taking a break from chopping wood for the eternal fires needed to heat water and provide food. He looked around, amazed at the variety of people who came together in one place – some sick, some helping, some grieving. There were Mexicans, Spaniards, Anglos, and Indians. The community was rallying. Those who hadn’t been exposed, stayed some distance away, but they still came, hauling supplies or bringing those who had newly come down with the fever.

  “McCoy!”

  A familiar voice made him jerk around. “Antonio!”

  Seeing his friend riding up on his favorite black stallion made him smile.

  “Word reached me that you and your lady are playing angels of mercy to the fallen and downtrodden.”

  “Yes, fortunately or unfortunately, however you’re a mind to look at it.” Austin couldn’t help but notice Antonio wasn’t alone. Sitting behind him on the saddle was a very comely Indian woman. “You’re well?” he asked with concern.

  “Yes.” He reached behind him and helped the girl swing down. “My friend, Austin McCoy, this is Ama. She tells me she knows your Jolie.”

  Austin almost asked how, when it hit him that she was one of the ones who’d come to Jolie for initial help. “Ma’am.” He took off his hat and nodded his head. “It’s good to know you. My wife speaks highly of you.”

  “Mr. McCoy.” She gave him a demure smile. “Word of Jolie’s gift has traveled.”

  “Yes, much faster than I would’ve thought possible.”

  He led Antonio to where his own wagon and horse were located. “I’ll be glad to offer you coffee or some water after your ride.”

  “Gracias.” The Mexican removed his black hat, the silver coins decorating the headband shone in the winter sun. “I am weary. Have you heard the talk?”

  Austin shook his head. Before he could answer, Ama whispered to Antonio and he nodded, gesturing toward the Mission. “Go ahead. I’ll be here.” The Indian maiden hurried off. “She wants to see Jolie.”

  “You’ll find her inside the chapel.” He pointed Ama in the right direction. “Antonio, the talk around here is mostly about this damn plague. What do you mean?” He poured two tin cups of coffee and handed one to his friend.

  “I heard when Stephen F. Austin was asked for help by Edwards and Palmer, his words were, ‘You are deluding yourselves and this delusion will ruin you.’”

  “That’s a pretty pointed answer.”

  “I also hear Ellis is still negotiating with Chief Fields. They are promising the Indians a land grant if they follow proper procedures.”

  “I hope they’re telling them the truth.” Austin kept his eye on the chapel door. Every time a new person arrived, he held his breath in case the person had come to drag her away from him. “What else have you heard?”

  “I hear the Mexicans are preparing to retaliate.”

  Austin motioned toward the Stone Fort. “There’s not really anything going on. I hate to see war break out now.”

  “I think they’re trying to prevent something from happening. My sources tell me Lt. Colonel Mateo Ahumada is marching here with over a hundred infantry. A friend was in the presence of Mr. Stephen Austin when Ahumada stopped to evaluate the loyalty of his settlers. They tell me Stephen announced to his followers that ‘an infatuated madman in Nacogdoches has declared independence’. Many of his colony joined Ahumada, volunteering to assist him in quelling this rebellion.”

 

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