Dorothy Garlock (22 page)

“Don’t wake Abe.” Callie didn’t know if she said the words or thought them. All she really knew was that Will was standing there looking down on her head.

“Do ya want me to stay away from the boy, Callie?”

“No!” The cry of protest came straight from her heart. She was on the verge of tears. Her mouth trembled and she blinked rapidly to keep the tears from disgracing her. “It . . . would break his heart.”

“I don’t want to cause ya worry,” he said softly.

“I know.” She sat stone still, willing the tears back until she was alone.

“I’m ready, Will.”

Callie was afraid to look at her son, afraid he would see that she was about to cry. They had spent some agonizing times together before and after Jason left them, and he had become sensitive to her moods. He went straight to Will and was lifted up into his arms. Callie glanced up and an emotion rose up in her as acute as pain when she saw the loving look on her child’s face as he looked at the man who held him.

“Tell yore ma a good night.”

“Night, Ma.”

“Good night, son.”

“C’n I go to your house tomorry, Will? I’ll pick up chips. C’n I hold your knife? I’ll be careful.”

“Shhhh . . . ya’ll wake up Abe.”

Callie sat in troubled silence while Will took Amos to bed. She hadn’t counted on her life being disrupted in this way. All she’d ever wished for in life after Jason left her was to live here with her boys and work to pay for their keep. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with her fingers, knowing only vaguely that she wept. Why was she so dissatisfied? Why did she ache for this man she couldn’t have, and why didn’t her common sense come forward and take hold as it had always done in the past when she was in a bind and didn’t know which way to turn? Will was the finest man she had ever known, him and . . . Jefferson. They had taken her and Amos out of a shack down on the river and had brought them here to this grand place. What if Jason came back and forced her to go away with him? It was a thought that filled her heart with terror.

“Why’re ya cryin’?” Will was there, kneeling beside her.

“I’m not.”

He lifted a finger and gently wiped a tear from her face. “Is it ’cause yore ’fraid Amos is gettin’ too attached to me?”

“No. He’s been happy since you came.” She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears.

“Then is it ’cause of what I said that day? Ya’ve been like a drop a water on a hot griddle since then. Ya don’t even look at me no more.” He studied her face, the sparkle of tears on her lashes, her trembling mouth. “I jist wanted ya to know that ya and the boys’ll always have a place. Ya don’t need to be worryin’ ’bout goin’ back to that other way a livin’, if’n ya don’t want to.”

She looked at him then, her eyes wet, her vision blurred. “You’ll want a wife and boys of your own . . . someday.”

“Yes, I want that, but not just any wife,” he said softly.

She refused to acknowledge anything personal in his words and rushed into speech.

“Jefferson will be wanting his home for Annie Lash.” She regretted the words instantly, and longed to recall them. He’d think she was hinting for something. Her hands played nervously with the fabric of her apron.

“Does that bother ya, Callie?” Will was still squatting on his haunches beside her.

“Jefferson would never ask me to go, and Annie Lash wouldn’t hear of it, either!” He was relieved to see she showed some spirit. “Annie Lash is just right for Jefferson. I want him to be happy. I owe you and him so much.”

“I want you to be happy. I don’t want ya to worry about Jason comin’ back ’n takin’ ya away from here.”

“I don’t think there’s much danger of that. He don’t want us,” she said scornfully. “We don’t want him, either!”

They stared at each other for a moment that was so still that it seemed time had stopped moving. Then slowly, haltingly, Will got to his feet and stood towering over her. He held out his hand and hers went into it. He pulled her to her feet. She looked at him searchingly. The pale light from the candle flickered over his dark face. His thick lashes made fans over his eyes, but she knew they were focused on her face.

“Come live with me in my cabin, Callie. Let me be a pa to yore boys.”

She wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. Then the full import of the shocking words reached her dulled brain. She looked at him and a trembling set in. “Oh, Will!”

“I’ll take care of ya and the boys for as long as I live. Even after, ya’ll be took care of.”

“Will, I couldn’t!”

“Ya don’t care ’bout me?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

Her hands went to his chest of their own accord. “It isn’t that!” She was crying on the inside. “Oh, Will! You know it isn’t
that.
”

“I built that cabin for ya, Callie.” His hands were on her arms. “If ya don’t want to live in it with me, it’s a’right. It’s still yores.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me!” Her words came out on a strangled sob.

“Feel sorry for ya? Gawddamnit! I love ya, ya crazy woman. I’ve loved ya e’er since I saw ya sittin’ in that hovel, so clean ’n proud, holding yore boy in yore arms. I wanted to kill Jason Pickett, would’ve if he’d not been brother to Jeff.” A sound, half groan, half sigh, exploded from him and he snatched her into his arms. “I want ya, girl, ’n I don’t care what I got to do to get ya.”

Callie’s breath left her in a sudden rush. Her hands, trapped between them, could feel the thunderous pounding of his heart. The moment quivered with tension. Sometime during those tense seconds she lost all caution and a fierce desire to comfort him swamped her. She struggled to free her hands and slid them around him, pulling him to her.

“Sweetheart . . . Darlin’ Callie! I don’t want ya to be hurt ever again,” he said against her hair. He tilted her face so he could look directly into her eyes. “Ya care for me. Ya do!” Relief made his voice husky.

The first gentle touch of his lips awakened a poignant longing in her to satisfy the hunger in this man who had been all things to her except lover. Although his lips were gentle, they entrapped hers with a fiery heat that flamed her cheeks and spread down her throat. The soft brush of his mustache against her cheek, the tobacco taste of his mouth, and the hard strength of his embrace made her head swim. She was dreamily aware when his hand traveled down her back to her hips to press the full length of her to him.

His kiss was long and deep. His lips seemed unable to leave hers. When they did it was to trail up over her cheek to her eyes. He was trembling violently when he lifted his head and looked into her shining eyes.

“I’ve waited . . . a long time to do . . . that.” His voice quivered with the power of the emotion he was feeling. “Sweet, sweet Callie,” he whispered and leaned his head forward to kiss her reverently on the forehead.

“Oh, Will! We shouldn’t!” Her voice was grief-stricken.

“Why shouldn’t we? I love ya!”

“Someone will see, will know.”

He held her away from him. “I don’t care if the whole gawddamn world knows!” he said urgently. “I want everyone to know that yo’re mine. Come live with me in my house. Be my wife, Callie.”

“You know I can’t do that! What would people say? What if Jason came back?”

“I’d kill ’im.” He spoke with cold finality.

“No! I’ll not let you dirty your hands on him! I could never come to you if you killed him so I’d be free.” She buried her face against him. “What can we do? Oh, Will, I know I shouldn’t tell you, but I love you so much. I’d give my life if I knew my boys would pass into your hands to raise. Amos loves you. He was only four years old when Jason was here, but . . . he saw enough, was punished enough, so that even now he wakes up in the night screaming. I won’t let that happen to him again, Will. He was so afraid—”

“My sweet, sweet woman . . .” He cradled her to him and rocked her gently. “It won’t happen. I promise ya it won’t happen agin. Come sit with me. Let me hold ya, just for tonight.” As they went past the table he pinched the flame from the candle. The narrow bunk attached to the kitchen wall was straight ahead. When they reached it, Will sat and pulled her down across his lap.

She went to him like a small child and nestled against him, her wet face pressed in the curve of his neck. He wrapped her in his arms with tender strength, murmured love words in her ear, and nuzzled his face in her hair. The warm safety of his arms was heaven!

Callie didn’t want to talk. She only wanted to be close to him, savor the delight and enjoy the wonder of being held by him. She wanted to forget everything that had happened before this night, and refused to think about what would happen tomorrow. She felt fatigued and weakened by the emotional ordeal of the last few weeks. Minutes passed without words. Will kissed every part of her face. The sweetness of his touch caused tears to gather in her eyes. He tasted them on his lips.

“It’s goin’ to be a’right, darlin’ girl,” he crooned as if to a child. “What happens from here on out will be ahappenin’ to both of us. We’ll weather it. Ya’ll see.” He leaned his back against the wall and moved her closer into his arms. He tucked her skirt down over her legs and her hair back behind her ears.

Callie couldn’t remember ever being held so lovingly or comforted so tenderly. This strong, hard man was holding her as gently as he would a baby, and her heart swelled with love for him. She kissed his neck, his chin, his rough cheek. His head bent and he carefully sought her lips. The kiss lasted for a long time and was full of sweetness. She sighed his name.

“I was hungry for that. I’m hungry for the feel of ya. Gawd! It’s been a lifetime since I touched yore hand. I won’t be able to stay away from ya, now. Don’t ask me to. I’ve got to hold ya, love ya, kiss ya.” His humbled voice vibrated with emotion.

Her arms moved up and about his neck and she raised her lips. He took them gently, lovingly, explored them with his tongue, parted them, nibbled. He began to tremble and the pressure of his mouth increased. His hand moved up and he threaded his fingers through her hair. She could feel that his body was demanding more now than the gentle touch of her lips, but still he held back.

“Callie, darlin’, I promised myself I’d just hold ya,” he whispered hoarsely and rained fervent kisses on her face. “But, Gawd help me, I want more!”

She cuddled up against him, her head in the curve of his shoulder, her arm about his neck. His skin was cool, his hair soft and silky, his breath ragged and uneven. She reveled in a happiness that was beyond anything she’d ever dreamed about; feeling loved, secure. She wanted with all her heart to take away the hunger that tormented him. It would give her a deep satisfaction to give him so much pleasure.

His lips moved over her face and neck, his mouth soft and warm and almost unbearably pleasurable. His hand moved beneath her loose shirt and cupped a firm, full breast. The pressure of his long fingers started the milk to flow. She felt a moment of panic, and then a low, soft moan came from his throat.

“I envied the babe the havin’ of these. Darlin’ girl, I was awishin’ it was me. Sweet girl . . . let me . . .”

With trembling fingers, she opened her bodice and pressed his lips to the soft skin of her breast. His lips kissed the smooth flesh while she brushed the hair back from his face. The soft tug of his firm lips and tongue, rough and wet, on her nipple was the most pleasurable feeling she ever experienced. Never had she imagined a man being so gentle, never in her life had she been stirred like this! She could feel the milk leave her body and fill his mouth, could feel the moan in his throat as she hugged him to her breast. Then, as if the sweet ecstasy of her breast could no longer satisfy him, he raised his head and moved his open, demanding mouth to hers. He clutched her so tightly to him that she felt the milk from her naked breast wet his shirt.

His mouth was sweet and wet. He kissed her deeply, but lovingly, always holding back, trying not to devour her. He cradled her, rocked her, longed to be inside her and satisfy the urge that had tormented him for so long. His mind told him to leave her and end the torture, but he couldn’t bring himself to draw away from her.

Callie stirred in his arms, seeking desperately for words to tell him that she knew of the struggle going on inside him, and that she wished with all her heart she could open herself to him and ease the pain that throbbed in his loins.

“Will . . . I want to, but I can’t! Darling, Will, please understand.” She grabbed his hand and guided it to the bulky cloth, looped and pinned over the string that encircled her waist. Oh, please know and understand, she pleaded silently. Know that I want you, too, but for this night and the next few nights, this is all we can have.

At first the feeling was disappointment, then an awareness of what she was trying to say without words dawned upon him, and he remembered seeing the stained cloths drying on the bushes well away from the house. Sexual desire left him as a flood of compassion for this precious girl swamped him.

“It’s a’right, darlin’. It’s enough to know that ya want me. Our time will come, ’cause I’m not a leavin’ ya, ever.” He pulled her face close to his neck and moved his chin across her cheek. The sweetness of it brought tears to her eyes.

Will sat there, holding her gently, rubbing her back, and his life, meaningless and empty up to now, danced crazily into his thoughts. He was the bastard son of a wealthy, influential man, a man greatly loved and respected. How did he know that fact for sure? He had his mother’s word on it, and the sum of money paid into his accounts by the man who sired him. He’d never really belonged anywhere, been loved by anyone except his mother. He had been a friend to Jeff and Light, adventure and danger his only pleasure. Now he had this woman and her children. By God, nothing would take them from him; not Jason Pickett, not Aaron Burr’s henchmen, and not Thomas Jefferson! He was going to live here on this land with this woman, be a father to her boys, and sire some of his own.

Will’s ears, attuned to the night sounds, picked up the murmur of voices. He listened, then smiled with lips against Callie’s face.

“Darlin’,” he whispered. “We’re not the only ones courtin’ tonight. Jeff an’ Annie Lash are on the porch.”