Brides of the West (16 page)

They hadn’t made love again since the night
of the storm and she looked forward to their first night at the
cabin. Finally, she might be able to use her new rose-scented bath
salts.

Warmed by the thought of a romantic evening,
she drew open all the shutters in the house, allowing a cool breeze
to enter. She ran her palms over the new stove he’d purchased for
her, eager to begin her duties as the mistress of the household.
She’d ordered a cookbook from the Montgomery Ward’s catalog and
expected her trunks from Savannah to arrive within a few days. They
contained a few things she’d crafted, but never used, such as a
lace tablecloth and several doilies, two quilts and assorted tea
towels and hot mittens. She looked about the rustic room. Although
lacking indoor plumbing and much different than her spacious town
home in Savannah, she could put her feminine touches here and there
and make it a place Wolf and Mac would be proud of.

After setting her shawl and gloves aside, she
untied her bonnet and laid it atop the pile. Still feeling flushed
from the heat, she unbuttoned the collar of her blouse and the
cuffs, donned a tea-towel for an apron and commenced sweeping.

On her father’s ranch, she’d had servants for
housework. Garrick also kept domestic help. Still, when he was
away, she’d worked alongside them, cooking and cleaning. She taught
them the art of crochet and needlepoint and taught their children
to play simple tunes on the piano. The fine ladies of Savannah
would have scorned her more had they known she socialized with the
hired help, but in the process, she’d befriended Nell, possibly the
most propitious move in her life.

She shuddered as she remembered her last days
with Garrick. He’d become irrational and violent, striking her for
merely standing in his path. Nell sacrificed everything to aid her
and Mac that afternoon, and she would never forget the woman. She
shook away the memories. Garrick was dead now, hopefully rotting in
hell if there was any justice in the afterlife.

She turned her attention to the future, not
the past, and opened her new cookbook. Bread. Yes, she’d bake a
loaf of bread and perhaps a pie to celebrate their first day home.
Then she’d ask Wolf to invite his friend, John Patterson, to join
them one day this week for a meal.

***

The next few days passed easily and she and
Mac settled in. Soon, it felt as if she belonged there, as if she’d
always been the mistress of the house. Wolf had asked no more about
Garrick’s death and for that she was thankful.

They made love every night, but quietly so as
not to disturb Mac who’d taken the loft. She silently hoped that
the following summer might bring new life into their home.

A few days later alone in the cabin hanging
curtains, she felt Wolf’s presence before she turned around.

“You’re back.” She stepped down from the
chair and laid the tack hammer aside. She hadn’t expected him home
so soon and was glad she’d drawn the bathwater earlier. “Shall I
heat the kettles to warm your bath?”

He closed the door behind him and dropped the
bolt, the desire in his eyes unmistakable. “I’d rather heat
your
kettle, woman.”

She bit back a smile, her heart pounding out
a near deafening tempo in her ears. Was her excitement due to the
fact he’d surprised her in the middle of the day? Or was it from
the anticipation of the lovemaking to come?

“No bath for me.” He grinned like a possum in
a sweet potato patch. “I’ll wash in the basin.”

“Where is Mac?” she inquired.

He hesitated, then hung his hat on a peg by
the door. “John took him to town to the cattle auction. They’ll be
back tomorrow or the next day.”

She almost swooned. “Oh, dear heaven, Wolf!
You should have asked!”

He frowned. “Don’t worry. John will look
after him.”

She gripped the chair’s back to steady
herself. “What do you know about this John fellow?”

“He’s the most honorable man I know,
Evangeline. Believe me, I wouldn’t have sent my son with him if I
thought otherwise.”

She swallowed hard, the hysteria slowly
calming. Wolf was right. He’d never put Mac in harm’s way. Then she
realized he’d sent their son with John so they might have privacy.
He began unbuttoning his shirtsleeves.

“I thought you might appreciate my exclusive
company tonight” He stripped off his shirt and strode to the
washstand. “What do you think of the house, Evangeline?” He kept
his back to her as he splashed water over his face and throat. “Now
that you’ve had a chance to survey every nook and cranny, will it
do until I can add another room?” He dropped his trousers and
kicked out of them. “By the way, have you seen my carved handled
pocket knife?”

Evangeline perused his bare back, bronzed and
muscular, narrowing down to lean, tight buttocks. It became hard to
breathe as she studied his physique. Knife? Had he said something
about a knife? She unbuttoned the next few buttons on her blouse.
“N-no, I’ve not seen your knife.”

“Must’ve lost it.” He turned around, his
manhood thick and jutting in the air. He smiled. “What’s wrong,
woman? Cat got your tongue?”

She composed herself as desire washed over
her in waves. “I…I hung curtains today.” She gestured to one of the
windows. “On our next trip into town I’ll purchase more fabric, if
that is acceptable.”

He glanced at the window, then returned to
bathing. “They brighten the place up. I like them. You should know
I plan to add an indoor privy soon—just like the fine homes in
town. And next spring I’m going to build a hen house on the east
side of the barn and fill it with a hundred Leghorns. The added egg
and poultry business will help pull us through any lean times or
droughts.”

He snatched the towel and turned around to
dry his face and throat. His face was somber.

“Evangeline, I sent Mac with John so that we
might continue our discussion from the other night.”

Oh, no! He wanted to talk about Garrick
again.

Crossing the room, he stood before her and
placed his hands on her shoulders. “We’ve been officially married
for two weeks. There can be no more secrets between us as husband
and wife. I need to know the truth about what happened to your
first husband.”

Her knees buckled, but he quickly righted
her.

“Payne didn’t fall down those stairs on his
own, did he?”

She shook her head.

“Who pushed him?”

The room grew darker and it became difficult
to breathe. She fanned herself with her hand as her cheeks began to
burn.

“You caught him with Mac didn’t you?”

A sob escaped. “Oh, Wolf!” She tore away from
him and slumped into the chair as the world around her careened off
course. “Yes!” She bit to still her trembling lips as her stomach
twisted into a knot at the sickening memory.

“And in a rage you killed him?”

“No! I didn’t kill Garrick.”

“I would understand if you did. I would kill
the bastard, too, if I’d caught him molesting my child.”

She could hold back no longer. Resolve
crumbled and she burst into tears. “I am so sorry, Wolf.”

Then he was at her side, lifting her from the
chair. He pulled her into his arms and she sagged against his solid
form, clinging to him as if to extract strength. She needed him,
needed his steadfastness right now, yet there remained between them
suspicion and bitterness. He claimed to not understand the
sacrifice she’d made to protect their unborn child so many years
ago. Would he ever?

It had been a terrible year following
Garrick’s death. She’d endured the accusing stares of the town
folk, the whispered rumors that somehow she’d contributed to her
husband’s demise. Before she’d left Georgia for Texas, the
anonymous letters had frightened her so much that she and Mac
ceased appearing in public. The secret remained, however, lying
dormant, waiting for the right moment to reawaken and ruin their
lives forever. Someone out there knew the truth. Now Wolf would
know, too.

“Tell me everything,” he prompted as his
gentle fingertips stroked up and down her arms.

“I can’t.”

“You must.”

She drew in a steadying breath as she
composed her thoughts. “Very well. One evening I walked into the
study and caught Garrick with his pants open. Mac was crying.
Fortunately, things hadn’t gone very far.” She shuddered and put
her face into her hands.

“The son of a bitch.”

“Garrick was enraged I’d discovered his dirty
secret, the real reason he kept an orphanage on the back property.
I threatened to tell his congregation of his perversions. He came
after me and beat me nearly unconscious. I don’t remember much,
except before I fainted Mac pounded on the other side of the door,
screaming for Garrick to open it. Then I heard Mac call for Nell,
our housekeeper. She used the spare key I’d given her to open the
door. Garrick pulled a pistol from the drawer and aimed at me. Nell
intercepted. She slammed Garrick’s head with an iron. The blow
killed him.”

“Was Mac an eyewitness to Garrick’s
death?”

Evangeline nodded, realizing her body was
trembling so hard her teeth were chattering. “Mac told me later
what happened. In her rage, Nell dragged Garrick’s body out of the
room and shoved it down the stairs.”

“Why didn’t you tell the authorities?”

“Nell saved my life, Wolf. To tell the
authorities would have meant certain death for her. Do you know
what they would have done to a black woman who’d killed a white
man? She wouldn’t have received a trial, no matter that I claimed
she came to my defense. Savannah society viewed Garrick as a saint.
He made his ministry larger than life so he’d be above reproach
should his dark deeds become light. He told his congregation he’d
found me in a brothel, cleaned me up and gave my illegitimate child
a name. People believed him, only tolerating me because I was
Reverend Payne’s wife. They praised him for his orphanage work, for
founding a girl’s home for unwed mothers…for turning
my
depraved life around. If I dared try to speak out against him, he’d
have beat me severely. He was brutal and twisted, Wolf, the most
evil human being I’ve ever known.”

“Does Mac ever talk of what happened to
him?”

She bit down on her lip. “No, but sometimes
at night he cries in his sleep. I believe it’s then he
remembers.”

“You do know if the truth is discovered, you
can be held as an accessory to Payne’s murder?”

“No one will ever know, Wolf. Nell passed
away two months ago from a weak heart, bless her soul. Only you,
Mac and I know the truth—with perhaps the exception of the author
of those anonymous threat letters.”

“What about Payne’s body? Could they exhume
his remains and reexamine the injuries? An examination of the skull
might prove
exactly
how he died.”

Her heartbeat sped up. “Wolf, you’re
frightening me.”

“Surely you’ve thought of it.”

“No. I never considered such.”

“A look at his skull might reveal what type
of instrument damaged it. I would think a ten or fifteen pound sad
iron did a great deal of damage, more so than a mere tumble down
the stairs.”

“It was a closed casket service. I never saw
Garrick’s body. I was told by the undertaker’s assistant that his
injuries were so extensive that he wasn’t suitable for public
viewing.”

“Who else besides you, Mac, and your
housekeeper could have known the truth behind Garrick’s
accident?
”

“No one. Not another soul witnessed anything
but Mac and me.”

***

Wolf shuttered the windows, then lit a
lantern and hung it on the hook beside the bed. Although he
believed her story, he still worried for her and Mac’s safety.
Apparently someone else knew the details.

He sighed, dragging a weary hand down his
face. This was why Evangeline was so protective of Mac. His stomach
turned at the thought of Garrick Payne abusing his son. He looked
at Evangeline. Tears streaked her pale face. He brushed them away
with his fingertips.

“We’ll talk no more of this tonight. You and
Mac have endured enough, and since no more letters have arrived I
feel you’re safe in Gonzales. Perhaps the person who wrote them has
lost track of you now that your last name is Smith. Besides, you’re
here with me and I’ll never let anything bad happen to either of
you.”

In the buttery glow of lamplight, he
undressed her, assessed her with his eyes and fingertips. Dark
blonde hair framed her delicate face and shimmered with highlights
he could only compare to spun glass. He laid her on the bed, sat
beside her and fanned the silken strands over her shoulders.
Splaying one palm across her flat tummy, he imagined what she would
look like heavy with his child and his heart swelled with joy as a
new image rose up in his mind—Evangeline cradling a tiny new life
they'd created. He bent to kiss her belly reverently.

"Evangeline," he said quietly, keeping his
ear to her stomach. "I hope soon to hear our baby moving inside
you."

"I’m pleased you want another child, Wolf. I
do hope I conceive soon.”

He lifted his head and looked at her. "I want
children more than anything." He leaned over and cupped her cheek
in his palm as he bent to brush his lips lightly across hers. “I
want us to fill this cabin with a dozen.”

He lowered his mouth to her breast and
suckled tenderly. She whimpered, arching into him. Her fingers
locked behind his neck and she held him firm.

"You enjoy this, do you?" He lifted his eyes
to gaze at her flushed face. Her eyes were soft and misted with
desire.

"It’s quite pleasurable.”

"I love giving you pleasure." Sliding up her
body, he nibbled the silky flesh on the side of her throat, then
dragged his tongue back down between her breasts, causing her to
shiver.