Jodi Thomas (17 page)

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and molded her against him. His unbleached underwear or her new nightgown no longer mattered. All that mattered was Bailee wanting to be in his arms.

He kissed her gently, learning how she liked to be kissed by the way her body moved against him. She was a woman afraid of never feeling, and he was a man afraid of feeling too much. But tonight he couldn’t have pulled away if a gun had been pointed at his head.

Their kisses grew longer and deeper. At some indefinable point he knew he’d reached her knowledge of what they were doing. He plunged onward, exploring into waters neither had ever charted.

When he was capable of having a thought, he remembered he was supposed to touch her also, not just kiss. Only this time when he moved his hand over her chest, there were no layers of undergarments binding her breasts. The softness filled his hand and molded inside his grasp.

Bailee sighed and leaned away a few inches to allow him to touch her more completely.

Carter’s mind exploded. Her mouth was warm, soft as velvet and inviting. He moved his hand to her other breast not believing it could also feel so good.

She opened her mouth wider in response to his touch as though rewarding him. He knew, without doubt, that he was bringing her pleasure with his caress. The kiss deepened. His stroking became bolder, moving over the cotton of her gown in gentle caresses.

Tugging at the buttons of her gown, he tried to free them.

She placed her hand over his as if to stop him.

He didn’t move, unsure what she wanted. His mouth brushed her ear. “Bailee,” he whispered.

She turned her face slightly and kissed him softly. As he deepened the kiss, he felt her hand slip from over his fingers.

With a sudden longing, he pulled at her gown. The buttons gave way to his encouragement. The front of her nightgown opened to the waist, and he slipped his fingers between the cotton and her skin.

Her body tightened in surprise, but she made no protest as he hesitantly spread his hand across her chest. At first he explored, but with each slight caress a need for more grew. A need deep in the pit of his stomach that told him no matter how long or how completely he touched this woman, he’d never get enough of the feel of her. He was like a blind man touching heaven for the first time and knowing all the wonder and beauty of it without seeing anything.

He moved his hand into her hair, pulling the ribbon free as his fingers curled around the dark mass of silk. Their kiss changed from tenderness to liquid passion, and suddenly he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her.

He wanted to kiss her like no man had ever kissed a woman. He wanted to twist his fingers into her hair and feel her breasts and pull her closer all at the same time. He wanted to bury himself so deep inside of her they’d become one.

Rolling over her, he pressed his body to her, letting her know how much he wanted her.

Suddenly she jerked her face away and fought to crawl from beneath his weight.

For a moment he held her, not believing that she wasn’t feeling everything he was. Why would she want to leave? How could she think to end this paradise between them?

But she pushed away, clawing her way from the bed. He watched her stand in the pale light of the windows, shaking and frightened. She held her gown together in one tightly clenched fist and brushed the fingertips of her other hand across her lips as though silencing a cry.

Carter collapsed into the pillows praying he’d smother in the folds and not have to ever look at her, so beautiful and so afraid. He wasn’t even sure what he’d done wrong, but whatever it was must have been terrible, judging from her expression.

But the gods didn’t cooperate. He lived. After he managed to get his body under control, he rocked to his side and took a breath. He wasn’t sure he was brave enough to face her. He wouldn’t lie to himself and pretend he didn’t know what happened, but he never thought he’d lose control. Or that it would frighten her so.

When he thought he’d do his duty as a husband, he never thought it would be like this. His blood still boiled and the need to pull her back to him was so strong, still rocking his senses with the smell of her, the feel of her, the taste of her.

“Carter,” she said, her voice breaking just a hint.

He forced himself to open one eye. She was still there, as desirable as ever. Her left hand continued to hold her nightgown together in the front, her right gripped the bed frame so tightly he could see her knuckles whiten even in the shadows.

“I ... I ...” She couldn’t seem to get her thoughts together, either. “We ... we ...”

He had to help her out. “I’m sorry I ripped your gown.”

She glanced down as if she hadn’t noticed. “The buttons only fell off. That happens all the time with ready-made clothes.” Her fingers moved along the aisle that had once been lined with tiny buttons. “I usually sew them on myself before I ever wear anything that isn’t made by hand.”

Carter figured his mouth had taken to the road without his brain when he asked, “May I see you?”

She gripped the opening tightly closed. “No. Of course not.” She hesitated, dragging a shaking hand through her hair. “Give me time. When I’m more wife then stranger. Maybe.”

That’s how it is, he thought with a frown. I can touch her, but I’ll never see her. We’ll spend the rest of our married life dressing in the dark, or she’ll go through that ritual of changing clothes without revealing so much as an ankle. He’d know the feel of her, but never the sight.

In the midst of his depression, he realized she wasn’t angry at him. Sure, she’d jumped from the bed like a flea on wash day, but she hadn’t said an angry word at him. She wasn’t even issuing orders like she usually did.

Carter studied her. Her cheeks were flushed. Her hair wild about her shoulders. Her eyes still shinny with passion. Suddenly he knew, she was as confused about what had just happened as he was.

He rolled to the far side of the bed and turned a pillow sideways.

She relaxed a bit as he patted the pillow into a feather wall.

“One month,” he finally said, looking deep into her green eyes. Hoping she’d understand.

Bailee nodded and crawled back into what was now her side of the bed. “One month,” she whispered, accepting his truce.

W
ATERY DAWN SPREAD ACROSS THE ROOM THROUGH the thin hotel curtains, bringing a promise of rain. Carter lay sound asleep on the other side of their pillowed wall. His beard was several days old now and in great need of shaving, yet Bailee couldn’t help but think he was handsome. Asleep, he looked younger. No more worry lines across his forehead. She wasn’t met with the silent strength in his stare, as if he faced the world alone and had all his life.

She closed her eyes and remembered the night they’d shared. She’d wanted him to be near, needed to feel him next to her. She’d loved the way he kissed her and the way he made her tremble inside with his touch. But he frightened her, as well. She wanted him to want her, but when he kissed her that last time, she had the feeling he didn’t just desire her, rather, he’d die without her. She wasn’t just something he craved, but an essential in his life.

The feeling was overwhelming. Bailee had always been useful, but no one had ever needed her, truly needed her. Fancis Tarleton had talked about marriage in terms of how she’d be a great help to him, never about how his life would be hollow and incomplete without her by his side. But Carter made her feel just that way. It frightened her to think she could ever mean so much to someone.

If the time came and Sheriff Riley declared her not a murderer, offered Carter his money back, then allowed her to go on her way, could she? And even if she could, would Carter let her go? They were married, and in less then a month they’d be married in every way. There would be no turning back then, no matter what happened.

Even if Riley told her it was all over, Bailee wasn’t sure she could leave Carter. But what if she wanted the marriage still and Carter turned his back? What if all she thought she saw was no more real than it had been with Francis Tarleton?

A tear bubbled from the comer of her eye. It would be far worse to think you were passionately wanted and loved and find out that you never were, than to learn a halfway love like Tarleton’s wasn’t real.

Francis had made promise after promise of undying love and left her. What made her think Carter would stay in a marriage when he’d never said one promise aloud?

Carter shifted on the other side of the bed. Bailee kept her eyes closed. She heard him dressing, but she didn’t move. She wasn’t sure how she’d answer him if he asked about last night.

When he slipped from the room, closing the door gently, Bailee finally let the tears fall. Not because she was trapped in a marriage to a husband whose name had been pulled from a hat. Or because the man she’d thought she killed might be alive and coming after her. Or even because Francis was a rat for never letting her know about passion. She cried because ... because she felt like crying.

A tiny hand slipped into hers. Bailee turned to see the angel face of Piper watching her from the edge of the bed. The child’s dark eyes held a silent question.

Bailee lifted the covers, and the little girl crawled in beside her. She hugged Piper against her and willed herself to stop crying.

By the time Carter returned, they were both dressed. He seemed uncomfortable, not meeting her gaze when he told her he’d ordered breakfast and that it would be up within the hour. The only one he seemed comfortable talking with was Piper.

After several minutes Bailee could stand no more. She moved around the corner of the bed and stood directly in front of him. “Is it all right between us?” she asked, not knowing what else to say.

He looked at her as if searching for the answer in her eyes.

“Is it?” he asked.

She smiled. “I think so.” How could she explain that she needed time? And with each hour she needed him more. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel as if she belonged by his side. It was as if they were in the middle of a forest fire and all she could think to do was light a match.

Bailee reached for his hand. He closed his fingers gently around hers. His smile reached his eyes. “I think so,” he repeated her words.

She led him to the chair she’d placed beside the washstand. “I have a surprise for you.”

Carter didn’t look like he enjoyed surprises. He was reluctant to turn loose of her hand.

Bailee pulled the small package she’d bought at the barbershop from her things and handed it to Piper. She motioned with her head for Piper to take it to Carter.

The child understood.

When Carter opened the gift of shaving equipment, he frowned. “I thought I’d give up shaving for a while.”

“Nonsense.” Bailee moved behind him. “You just need the right things.” She winked at him boldly. “And me to help.”

Carter slowly handed over the gift.

Piper tugged on his shoulder and spoke to him with her hands as Bailee wrapped a towel around his neck.

“What does she say?” Bailee asked as she prepared the soap and mug.

“She tells me to be very brave.” He made a face at Piper and the child smiled.

Bailee dropped the razor as she pulled it from the package. The blade fell open on the floor between Carter’s feet. When she picked it up, she noticed Piper frantically signing.

“What did she say now?” Bailee glanced at Carter as she tried to hold the razor correctly.

He grinned at her. “Piper told me to run like hell.”

“She shouldn’t talk like that.”

“She didn’t say a word.” He showed no inclination of following the child’s advice as he leaned back in the chair. When Bailee stepped closer, he moved his hand along her waist as though he’d touched her a hundred times just so.

“All right?” he asked.

“All right,” she answered, brushing his hand with her own.

His grip tightened slightly, reminding her of how close they’d been only a few hours before.

Bailee smoothed the towel at his neck, then lathered the soap. When she finally looked down at Carter, their eyes met. Without saying a word, he watched her work.

A warmth spread through her as she worked, touching him with great care. She liked the feel of his beard against her fingers and the way the smell of soap blended in the air between them. As she worked, their bodies brushed and each contact made her heart beat a little faster.

Bailee was cleaning the last bit of soap from his face when a knock sounded at the door. She froze.

Carter gently moved her aside and stood. Within a few steps, he’d reached the door.

Sheriff Riley sprang into the room like a tattered jack-in-the-box. “Good news!” he shouted, probably waking anyone on the floor who might still be asleep. “We got a telegram late last night that says the kid’s relative will be in this morning to claim her.” He paced the tiny space between the bed and Piper’s cot. “Only sighed the telegram with initials, but said he’s coming on the first train to make it from Down South since the wreck. I offered to make sure the body of Piper’s mother was ready to transport as well, but there was no reply.”

Riley sat on the comer of the bed as if he’d been invited to do so. He crossed his legs and used his knee as a hat rack. “Smith’s given up on the kid adding any more to what she saw, so he said she could go back home. The sooner we get her away from this town the better for us all. Before we got the telegram, Smith and I were racking our brains trying to think of some way to get her into hiding.”

Lifting his hat, Riley slapped his knee. “I can’t believe our luck. We figured it would take a day, maybe two to find any relative of the girl even if she’s from a big family around Sherman. To get an answer this morning the law must have searched all night.”