Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (35 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River]
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Shortly after that they entered the pines again, and Daniel rode ahead. At one time Mercy was alone for a long stretch of time, yet she wasn’t frightened. Daniel had taken his rifle, but the pistol was on the floor of the wagon at her feet. It seemed hours before they came out of the dark woods and into the sunshine, and shortly after that the sun was a red ball in the west.

Daniel motioned for her to stop. He tied the buckskin on behind and climbed up into the seat to take the reins.

“We should reach the place where we camped before in about an hour. I think that’s a good place to stop for the night.”

“I could use a cup of tea.” In the setting sun the air was cooler. Mercy hugged her shawl around her.

“I’d rather not have a fire, honey. You can smell wood smoke for miles.”

He had said it again. Honey. Mercy’s need for tea suddenly vanished.

“You did take stock in what Hod said about robbers, didn’t you?”

“I knew the risk even before he voiced it. Don’t worry, we’ll not take any chances.”

Mercy moved over until her shoulder was tucked behind his. His body was so solid, so warm. She felt her insides warm with pleasure when his hand found hers and tucked it in the crook of his arm.

“I’m not the least bit worried. Between us we should be able to handle a couple of robbers,” she said lightly.

He turned his head toward her, and his eyes held hers like magnets. The touch of his body, the warm caress of his smiling eyes, called out to something deep inside her. Ten seconds passed while they looked at each other. Mercy drew a shallow breath, followed by a deeper one.

It was dusk when they reached the curve in the creek where they had camped with Bernie and Lenny. Daniel stopped the wagon in the same place where he had stopped it before.

“I’ll take care of the horses,” Daniel said, jumping down from the wagon. “You go on down to the creek. Get behind that bank out of sight and wash, or do what you want to do. No one can come up on you unless I see them from here.”

Mercy took soap and towel from her carpetbag. “Don’t you want to water the horses first?”

“There’s a backwater along here that will do for them.”

The creek water was icy cold. Mercy washed her face and hands and ran the cloth over her neck to wipe away the film of dust. She longed for a tub of warm water. She was hungry and her stomach growled. She hurried back to the campsite. It was going to be cool tonight without a fire.

When Daniel returned from washing at the creek, they sat on the tailgate of the wagon, ate bread and ham, and washed it down with creek water. Mercy smeared the gooseberry jam on bread and held it to Daniel’s mouth. He took a bite and almost nipped her fingers.

“Ouch!” Her eyes smiled into his, and she lifted a finger and wiped jam from the corner of his mouth. “Ungrateful is what you are,” she said, teasing. “From now on you can put jam on your own bread.”

“You’ve got some on your upper lip. I think I’ll take that.”

He leaned toward her, and his tongue swiped the jam from her mouth. She didn’t move. She looked into his quiet, smiling face and the soft brown eyes that now anxiously waited to see if she would throw back a sassy retort. Love and tenderness welled up within her. She lifted her free hand and held it to his cheek. Still holding her eyes with his, he turned his lips into her palm. She felt them move, felt the warmth of his breath, and her heart tried to leap from her breast.

“It’ll be dark soon.” He said the first words that came to his mind and slid off the end of the wagon. “There’ll not be moonlight tonight if that cloud bank coming up out of the south keeps coming.”

Mercy was only half aware of what he was saying. His hands at her waist lifted her off the end of the wagon.

“Do you think it will rain?”

“It could.” Daniel climbed up into the wagon bed and threw out the bedrolls, then arranged his saddle and Mercy’s carpetbag, the grain sack and the food box, and covered them with a canvas. “If we should have visitors in the night, I want them to think we’re sleeping in the wagon.”

“Where will we sleep?”

“I’ve got it figured out. I’ve staked Buck here close to the wagon. He’ll let us know if anyone comes nosing around. Bring the blankets, I’ll carry the rest.”

Mercy followed him toward the willows that lined the creek bank. When he reached them, he stopped and looked back toward the wagon. Its shape was clearly visible. At the base of a large oak he stopped again and looked back.

“This will do. If it rains, we’ll get under the willows.”

Mercy looked at him blankly when he took the blanket from her hand and spread it on the soft grass beneath the tree. She remembered Hod’s warning, and for a moment she was alarmed.

“You think someone will try to sneak up on us?”

“I’m not planning on it, but if they do, I want to be ready. Come on. Sit down.” She sat down with her back to the tree, and Daniel sat down beside her, his rifle, pistol, powder, and shot within reach. “Are you cold?” He flung out another blanket, pulled it up around her, and felt her tremble. “Don’t be afraid. Between me and old Buck out there, there’s not a chance of anyone sneaking up on you.”

“Do you think I’m afraid just for myself?” she said, flaring. “Oh, Daniel—sometimes you make me so mad!” She clutched his arm and shook it.

“Now, don’t get all riled up.” His arm went around her and pulled her close to him. “Tomorrow night we’ll stay in Evansville. I know of an inn where you can get a good warm bath, and we’ll eat in style in a private dining room. Will that make up for having to sleep in your clothes on this hard ground?”

“I don’t mind the hard ground or sleeping in my clothes. I just want you . . . safe.” She wiggled out of the confining blanket, and throwing it over the both of them, she turned and snuggled against his side. He was solid flesh and bone, and his heart beat steadily against her breast. She could smell the masculine smell of his body and . . . gooseberry jam too. “Danny . . .” Her hand moved up his chest to his throat. “If anything happened to you, I’d just . . . die.”

Daniel’s chest was so tight, he could scarcely breathe. He was aware of every soft curve of the body pressed to his. Every time he touched her, it was harder to keep from crushing her to him and blurting out his love for her. Slowly he sucked in a fortifying breath. This was the time to get things settled between them. He couldn’t put it off any longer, nor could he bear for another hour to go by, not knowing if she was going to be truly his. While he thought of what he was going to say, his hand stroked the arm that lay across his chest.

“We need to have a talk, Mercy.”

Mercy,
he’d said. Not
honey
! A cold chill traveled down Mercy’s spine. He wanted the marriage put aside! Her arm slid around him and tightened unknowingly. She closed her eyes. Please, God, don’t let him say that! She strived for calmness by telling herself that she would accept it, if it was what he wanted. She would not hang on him, cry, or make him feel guilty. She loved him enough to turn him loose, didn’t she?

“Did you hear me?”

“I heard you, Danny. What . . . is it you want to talk about?”

“Don’t make it difficult for me. You know we have to decide how we’re going to deal with this . . . this situation we’re in.”

“Have you thought about what we should do?”

“I didn’t have to think about it. I want to know how you feel.”

“You know how I feel about you.”
Oh, Danny,
her heart cried.
Don’t make me say it.

“I know that you’re fond of me. We’ve known each other for almost as long as I can remember. We’re comfortable together, and we share many memories. The fact that we were both orphans drew us together when we were children.”

“I had a wonderful childhood—”

“We’re no longer children.” He took a deep, trembly breath. “We’re a man and a woman. Being fond of a man is not the same as . . . loving the man who is your husband, or the woman who is your wife.”

Mercy was still for a long while, trying to analyze what he had said. Then it dawned on her. He wanted to be free, and he was trying to make it easy for her. Swallowing the lump that rose to her throat, she tried to make her voice natural when she spoke but failed miserably. The words came out gravelly, as if she had rocks in her throat.

“What you’re trying to say is that you’re fond of me as a Sister, but you do not . . . love me as a man loves his wife.” She heard Daniel’s indrawn breath and felt him stiffen.

“Goddammit! I didn’t say that at all!”

“Well . . . I thought you did—”

“I’ve got to know how you feel about
me
!” he demanded in a voice as angry as any he had ever used with her. “Are you merely fond of me? I want to know, right now!” He threw the blanket aside and gripped her arms. His face was close, and his lips were curled in a snarl. “Can’t you understand? I don’t want to be your brother!” He spaced the words for emphasis.

“You’re not—”

“I want you in my bed as my wife . . . my lover! I want to hold you in my arms every night for the rest of my life! Are you horrified, embarrassed, to know your
brother
wants to love you?”

“Love me?” she echoed. New life surged through her. It shut off her ability to think. She gazed at him in stunned silence.

“Dammit! Say something!”

“Give me time. You . . . love me? Really love me?”

“Don’t you know?” he answered gruffly. “How could you not know? I can hardly keep my hands off you.”

“You don’t want the marriage put aside!” Tears filled her eyes. With a sob she launched herself at him and threw her arms tightly about his neck. With her mouth pressed against the indentation in his chin, she whispered, “Oh, Danny. I was so afraid you’d not want me . . . for your wife. I love you. I want to be your wife, your lover. I want us to make babies together!”

“You do?” he croaked, and crushed her to him, rocking back and forth. “Ah, sweet woman!” His lips found her eyes and tasted her tears. “I love you. I don’t have the words to tell how much.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid to.”

“Afraid? Oh, darling, I can’t imagine you being afraid of anything.”

“I was. You purely scared the hell out of me!”

“I thought I’d lost you. You were so angry . . . the night we were wed.”

“I didn’t want to be forced on you. I wanted you to
choose
me over all other men.” He moved her onto his lap and wrapped his arms more tightly about her. “Darlin’, darlin’,” he crooned. “Didn’t my kisses tell you how much I wanted you?”

“I just knew that I liked them and didn’t want you to stop. I waited for you to come to bed last night. I wanted you to hold me again.”

“I didn’t dare lie down beside you again. I . . . wanted you so much.” His hungry lips sought hers, but his kiss was gentle, reverent, loving.

“I wanted to sleep in your arms again,” she whispered against his mouth.

He moved from her mouth and worshiped each feature of her face with his lips, pressing soft kisses and murmuring words of love. “Sweetheart . . . you’re so sweet, smell so good. Ah, my love, my love, you’re as soft as a cotton ball. Don’t you have bones in this sweet body?” His lips moved back to hers, and fitting her head in the crook of his arm, he deepened his kiss, sending her blood thundering through her ears.

Caught in a spinning whirlwind of desire, Mercy was aware that his heart was racing as fast as hers. She met his passion with intimate sensuousness and parted her lips to run the tip of her tongue across his mouth. She moved her lips against his in an instinctive invitation as old as time. When she felt his mouth leaving hers, she held the back of his head with one hand more tightly.

The weight on his lap felt so good. He moved one hand down to cup her buttocks and press her to his swelling desire. Stirred by his incredible arousal, he jerked his lips from hers and pressed them to the side of her face.

“Sweetheart! We’ve got to stop this while we can.”

“I don’t want . . . to stop.” Her arms strained him to her.

He moaned and buried his face against the side of her neck. “We’ll not spend our wedding night here on a blanket. Tomorrow night, in a soft bed, I’m going to love you all night long.”

“And I’ll love you,” she whispered. Her hands framed his face, and she looked deeply, lovingly, into his eyes.

“Mercy, honey . . .” He drew her hands down from his face and held them to his lips. “You know what . . . happens, when I . . . when we come together in our marriage bed?”

She laughed, placed a tender kiss on his lips, and nestled down in his arms.

“Oh, Daniel! You still think of me as a child. I’ve known
that
since I was ten years old—even if you wouldn’t let me in the barn when the bull was in with the cow.”

“I suppose you asked someone. You were always full of questions,” he said with a happy chuckle.

“I asked Mamma and Amy.”

“When was this?”

“It was while you were gone to Louisville with Rain. I told Mamma I knew she didn’t get Mary Elizabeth by sitting on Papa’s lap, because her dress wasn’t up.” Mercy giggled happily. “Then I said that if they didn’t tell me how they got babies, I would ask Mike. That got them riled up.”

“I bet. What did Mamma say?”

“She said, ‘Young lady, it’s time you and I had a walk down by the creek’. She told me everything I wanted to know. At the time I was pretty shocked by some of it. Later, when I was older, we had another talk, and she told me that for a woman to be intimately entwined with the man she loved was one of God’s greatest gifts.”

“Farr said something like that to me one time,” Daniel said slowly. “He said it was a lucky man whose wife enjoyed the marriage bed. He also said it was the man’s duty to see that she did. I’ll be gentle, sweetheart. . . .” His breath almost left him.

She sat up and looked into his face. His eyes were so close to hers that she could see the glints in them, and his breath was warm on her wet lips. She placed her nose alongside his and spoke against his lips. “I’ll not be one of those women who cringe from the marriage bed, love. I want to be yours, you to be mine, have you go inside my body and give me your child.” The last words were whispered with trembling desire.

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