His Brother's Bride (8 page)

She didn't know how close she was to Cade until she felt the whisper of his breath across her face. “No,” he said.

She looked him in the eye, and her heart stilled at his nearness. “What?”

“You're right pretty all the time.”

He picked up a length of her dark hair and ran it between his fingers. Chills shot down her neck and across her arm.

“I'm hungry!” Adam called.

She turned to see him running up the incline, his britches wet and soggy and splotches of darkness flecking his shirt.

“I caught me a tadpole, Ma!”

She gathered her wits. “Where is it?”

“Got away. We eating soon?”

Emily busied herself smoothing out the blanket. When she reached Cade's corner, he remained unmoved, staring at her, a smile on his face that would melt ice. She moved to the center where Adam sat with a plate already filled with the picnic fixin's.

After they filled their bellies, Emily packed the basket and blanket while Cade untied the horses. The ride back seemed longer somehow than the ride here, but perhaps it was only because Adam was not separating them this time. Cade's thick thigh rubbed up alongside hers until she could think of little else.

By the time they'd arrived back at the farm, the sun had sunk from the sky, leaving only a sliver of moonlight to see by. Cade lifted Adam down from the wagon and handed him the basket and blanket. “Think you can carry all that?”

“Yes, Sir!” Adam swaggered into the house, clearly pleased to be a helper.

Cade turned then and gave her a hand down. His hand felt large and warm in hers. It would have been comforting if not for the way it set her heart to racing. She turned to the house.

“Stay out here awhile.”

She turned to look at him.

“Light a lantern for me?” he asked.

She moved into the barn where the lantern hung on a peg and lit it. She turned and watched as he unhitched the horses with sure, strong movements. He was an enigma, this man. This brother of her dear friend, Thomas. How she wished she'd had a brother or a father who'd been alive long enough for her to figure out how a man's mind worked. As it was, she was at a loss. Surely most men were nothing like Uncle Stewart.

One day Cade was like a stranger living in the same house, and the next he's like a friend who wants to be my—

Her throat grew dry at the thought, and her traitorous heart beat a jig she was sure Reverend Hill would disapprove of.
You're being silly, Emily. He's just a man. He only wanted you to light the lantern, and here you stand staring after him like a forlorn schoolmarm at a barn dance. Why he'd probably think you were daft if he even knew the directions of your—

It was only then she'd noticed he was standing in front of her. Not just in front of her but
right
in front of her. Surely no more than a whistle away. The glow of light hit his face at all the right angles, kissing his upper cheekbones, letting shadows seep into the recesses of his jaw. His dark lashes had lowered to nearly his cheekbones, leaving just a sliver of those sparkling eyes in view. She'd give the baby quilt she'd worked on for weeks for just an inkling of what was going on behind them.

“I've been praying, Emily.”

“Oh?” If her heart jumped any harder, surely it would bump his chest.

“You know, about us.”

She nodded as if she knew what he was talking about. He'd long ago slid the hat from his head, and the dark strands of hair framed his face, the light glimmering off them.

“You've been a gift to Adam and me. A gift from God, and I got to wondering how He'd feel about how accepting I've been of that gift.” He lowered his head, the shadows enshrouding his face. “I reckon it must look to God like I took the gift He gave me, put it on a shelf, and said ‘no thanks.' ”

Her face heated at his words. Her heart kept tempo with the music in her soul, and she held her breath waiting for the words she hoped to hear.

Twelve

“Last night I told God ‘thank You,' ” Cade said. “He's sent me a wonderful mother for my son and a wonderful woman to be my wife.” The flesh of his palm found her cheek, and his thumb rubbed across her lips until she thought her knees would give way.

“When we married, I didn't know you wanted young 'uns. Shoulda known, I guess, but I didn't give it much thought. I was too wrapped up in my own needs.” His other hand found her face, and she felt wonderfully surrounded by the comfort of his flesh.

“What I'm trying to say, I suppose, is that I'd like to give this marriage a fighting chance—if you're willing, that is.”

Eyes the color of a blue spruce questioned her in the glow of the lamplight. Her heart took flight at his words.

“I've come to care for you a great deal, Emily. I think we make a good match, you and I. And I'd like to. . .I'd like to court you the way a man courts a woman. I don't know much about you, but I want to learn everything. I want to know whether you wore hair ribbons as a girl and if some boy ever broke your heart. I want to know how you feel about moving here to Cedar Springs, and—I want to know if you could ever care for me.”

His last sentence ended in a whisper she felt all the way to her toes. His lips, inches away, begged to be kissed. She looked deeply into his eyes, hoping he'd read her feelings there, because suddenly, not a word would squeak from her parched throat.

His lips lowered onto hers, slowly, maddeningly slowly. Her heart quickened, and she met his lips with a desperation born of loneliness and desire. His lips teased with soft brushes, tasting, testing, until she feared she'd go mad for want of him.

Finally, he embraced her, pulling her closer to him than she had ever been. Her skin heated up like a stoked bonfire. She wondered if her ears glowed orange with the warmth of it. His hands curved around the back of her head, holding her firmly, lovingly.

Her hands worked up his strong chest and rested there.

A moment later, he pulled away, though their arms still embraced one another. Their breathing came quickly. Cade's eyelids were half shut, a lazy surprise in his eyes.

She pulled away. She could hardly believe his effect on her. Weren't women supposed to be subdued and—well, they certainly weren't supposed to be so, so needy and eager! Her gaze found the hay-strewn floor even as heat crept up her neck. What must he think of her now? She'd behaved like a wanton woman instead of a wife doing her duty. She was still breathing heavily. Shameful!

She felt his knuckle tip up her chin. His lips tipped in a crooked smile, but she noticed he, too, had not yet caught his breath. “You are some woman, Emily Manning,” he rasped.

She looked away. What had he meant by that? Had she shamed him as well as herself?

He stepped closer again, this time wrapping her up in his arms like a big, cozy quilt. He planted a kiss on her nose.

What was he thinking? Oh, that she could read his mind and have done with it.

He laid his cheek against hers. She shivered, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. “Stop fretting,” he whispered in her ear. Then he took her hand and placed it against his heart. She could feel it beating under the plaid shirt, beating as fast as hers. What was he saying?

The answer came softly in her ear. “This is what you do to me, Emmie.”

She smiled at the word her father used to call her.

“This is a good thing.”

“I'm scared.”
I can't believe I admitted that.

His arms tightened. “It's all right. I am too.”

He held her for several moments of bliss while their hearts settled back into a steady rhythm beneath their homespun clothes. He pulled away. “I reckon Adam must be wondering what's become of us.”

She nodded, still dazed.

“Let's take it a day at a time, all right?”

She nodded again.

He drew her hands up to his mouth and laid his firm, soft lips against them. “All this is new to me too, you know. It's been so long. . . .”

Ha,
she thought.
He could coax a bear from a honey hive!

He curled his warm hand around hers, and together they went into the house to begin again.

❧

Several days later, Emily scraped the bacon grease from the pan while Adam dried off a plate. Behind her, Cade's chair grated across the wooden floor. She was ever so aware of him these days. He was like a cool breeze when he entered the room, and her skin shivered in his presence.

“I'm going to town this morning, be back in a few hours,” he said over his shoulder.

She turned, but he was already through the doorway. She dried off her hands and chased after him.

“Cade!”

He turned, that handsome, lopsided grin tilted on his face. Her heart flopped.

“What is it, Emmie?”

The nickname still made her tremble. “I was—I want to go with you if it's not too much trouble.”

Was it her imagination, or did his smile widen a fraction?

He gave a nod. “I'll hitch up the bays while you finish the dishes.”

She smiled. “All right.” She watched him all the way to the barn, his long legs eating up the distance quickly, then returned to the kitchen.

Once the dishes were in order, she went to the pantry and picked up her real reason for going into town. Her marionberry preserves. She'd topped the lids with a circle of cloth and had tied thin ribbons around the necks of the jars. When Mrs. Parnell had bragged on her preserves at the church social and asked for a few jars for the mercantile, Emily had felt so proud. Now, maybe she'd be able to earn a few pennies of her own and please Cade too.

She packed the three jars in a basket and called for Adam to come.

Outside, Adam scooted onto the center of the bench, and Cade lifted Emily up. Her insides ached to be seated next to her husband. The past few days, he'd touched her often, though he had yet to kiss her again. But he had said he'd wanted to take it slowly. Was she brazen for wanting him to go faster?

As they bumped along the dusty road, with Adam's little body tossing against hers, she realized God had given her everything she'd wanted. Adam was a child of her own heart, and as much as she wanted Cade's love, it wasn't because of what he could give her. A warm, soft feeling tickled her insides. She loved Adam so dearly. He was her son in every way that counted. She reached over then and pulled him close to her. He looked up, those big blue eyes so trusting and vulnerable, and smiled sweetly. She laid a kiss on his hair.

When they arrived in town, Cade helped them down from the wagon, then he ran over to the feed store, promising to meet them shortly. Emily carried her basket of preserves into the store with Adam trailing closely behind.

The door jangled their entrance, then Emily approached the table where Mrs. Parnell was tidying up a bolt of cloth.

“Well, good day, Mrs. Manning,” she said.

“How do, Mrs. Parnell.” Suddenly she wondered if the woman had really meant what she'd said about selling her preserves. Perhaps she was only being friendly. She wished she could hide the basket behind her, but its bulk prevented that.

“Can I help you find something?” she asked.

“I—well, I brought these preserves.” She held out the basket. “That is, if you still have need of them.”

Mrs. Parnell put her age-spotted fingers to her face. “Oh, that's wonderful. Let's see what you brought.”

She set the jars on the counter, marveling over the pretty cloth and ribbons. “These'll fetch a fine price. I'd love to try your strawberry and boysenberry as well, if they're up to the same standards as your marionberry.”

“They're yummy!” Adam said from her side. “Sometimes I want to skip the biscuits and eat the preserves right from the spoon!”

Mrs. Parnell laughed.

“Adam!” Emily scolded.

“Well, it's probably true, Dear, your marionberry is mighty fine indeed.”

They settled on a price, and Emily left the store, eager at the thought of making money of her own. They shopped a bit, then went out to where Cade waited for them. After he assisted them up, they started off.

As they passed the post office, the postmistress came running out the door. “Mrs. Manning!” she called.

Cade slowed the horses to a stop while the postmistress ran into the road. “You've a letter, Dear.” She handed up a well-handled envelope.

“Thank you,” Emily said.

As she looked at the heavy scrawling on the envelope, she could feel Cade looking over her shoulder. “From your uncle?” he asked.

She nodded, anxiety worming through her and drying her throat.

As Cade gave the reins a yank, she tucked the letter into the pocket of her skirt. Part of her wanted to rip the package right open, but the smarter part of her knew she'd better wait until she was alone. There was no telling what Uncle Stewart had to say, but she was certain it was nothing that would benefit her fragile relationship with her husband.