KeepingFaithCole (24 page)

With a sigh, Lucille turned to blow out the lamp. The bible
lay open to the scriptures they’d read that evening. She glanced at the page,
recalling the words.

“If two lie together, they keep warm.”

Squaring her shoulders, she marched across the room, then
climbed the narrow stairs. If she wanted Tom’s love, she needed to tell him of
her own feelings, to declare her love for him. Of course, that meant putting
everything on the line, risking his rejection.

But it had to be done. She couldn’t go on living this lie,
pretending that their marriage meant nothing to her. Truth always came out, and
it rarely chose convenient times.

Chapter
Fifteen

“Tom?” she whispered, giving his shoulders a slight shake as
she sat on the edge of his bed. “Are you awake?”

He stirred. His eyes flew open, and at once he struggled to
sit up. “What is it? Is Faith—”

“She’s fine.” Tears streamed freely down Lucille’s cheeks
now. She couldn’t check them, and suddenly it no longer seemed to matter. “I
want to talk, Tom. I need to tell you how I feel.”

His body went rigid beneath her touch. He drew in a slow
breath, then looked away from her to stare toward the window. Soft beams of
moonlight left a silvery streak across the floor and bed.

“Please, Lucille, don’t,” he said. “I know you’re not happy.
I’m sorry I can’t give you more, but for Faith’s sake, can’t we try a little
longer? If you leave me now—”

“Leave?” She shook her head, dumbfounded by the words he’d
spoken. “No, Tom, that’s not what I want. I want to stay with you.” She wiped
at her tears.

“You’re crying. It’s obvious you’re not happy here with me.
What else would come to tell me if it’s not goodbye?”

“I—” She stopped, suddenly terrified to speak.

I love you. I want
to be your wife. I want us to have a life together, to make babies, to have a
home, a family.

All the words were there inside her head and inside her
heart, but for the life of her, she couldn’t get them to come out.

“I—”

Again, the words stuck inside her throat. Unashamed of her
tears, she lifted her gaze to his, silently begging for his understanding and
his love.

“What is you want, Lu?” he asked, his voice gentle as he
reached for her hand. He clasped it in his. “Are you saying you want us to stay
together? Are you telling me maybe we could make this a real marriage?”

She nodded and fell into the welcome embrace he offered.
With her head resting against his bare chest, she could hear the steady
pounding of his heart.

“Please, Tom, I want to be your wife, in every sense of the
word.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Her body trembled. “I want
to be your wife, to make a home with you, to have your babies, to share our
lives.”

He moved his long legs
around and swung off the bed. Bare-chested, wearing only a pair of drawstring
pants, he stood in the moonlight, looking down at her.

“Are you asking me to love
you?”

Lucille wished she could
speak up, but she wasn’t sure what to say. The right words could bring them
together forever, but the wrong ones could destroy every last hope, every dream
in her heart.

She choked back a sob,
pushed away from the bed and fled from the room.

“Lucille, wait!” Tom called
out even as he rushed after her. He quickly caught her, put his arms around
her, and turned her to face him. “Don’t run out on me. Please, let’s talk this
out, let’s do what we can to make this work.”

“Would you want that, Tom?”
she asked, hesitant to look into his beautiful blue eyes. “Would you want a
real wife?”

“You are my wife,” he said
with a chuckle. “And you feel mighty real to me.”

“You know what I mean.” She
turned her head, wishing he wouldn’t make light of the situation. That was how
Tom always was, though. Instead of facing up to problems, he joked about them,
used humor much like another man might use a shield, relied on laughter to ward
off discomfort and distress. Her head snapped around again. “This isn’t funny,
Tom.”

“No, I don’t reckon it is.”

“Marriage is serious.” She
leaned back so she could look at him now. Slowly, she studied his expression,
wishing she could get inside his head and know what he was thinking. “I love
you, Tom.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, her heart
hammering. “I love you.”

“For now? Or forever?”

“Forever and always.” She
reached for his hands and squeezed. “I know in the past, I’ve said some unkind
things about you. But I was wrong. Give me a chance to make up for my awful
behavior. Let me love you. Let me be the wife you deserve.”

“I think we can make that
happen.” He bent down and kissed the top of her head. “And I think right now
might be a good time to start.” Turning toward the door, he pulled her around
with him. “Let’s go to bed, wife,” he whispered. “Your husband’s been waiting a
long time to hold you in his arms.”

She shook her head.

“Not here.” Lucille glanced
toward the small feather mattress. “I have a big four-poster bed in my room,
and you’d look real nice stretched out across it.”

* * * *

He followed her downstairs,
his heart pounding. Together, they tip-toed past Faith’s crib and slipped into
the big bedroom. Tom reached for his wife’s hand, brought it to his lips and
feathered soft kisses across the back. In the moonlight, her eyes glittered
like rich chocolate candies. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he squeezed her
hands.

“Do you know how pretty you
are?”

Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, shimmering
with highlights from the silver light. He leaned toward her, then hesitated. He
wanted her, but only if she truly wanted him.

He held his breath as Lucille bent forward. He let go of her
hand, then reached up to touch the softness of her cheek. It felt like the
smooth velvet ribbons he’d once bought at her shop. His fingers moved down to
trace the outline of her bottom lip. She sighed and her eyelids closed.

His heart hammered as his desires pounded through his brain
and through his body. He ached for her. His other hand went to her loose,
flowing tresses, tangling in the dark strands as he drew her closer.

Softly, he kissed the corner of her mouth, gently bringing
the tip of his tongue to her skin for a taste, breathing in her sweet, floral
scent. Her nearness overwhelmed him.

He heard a soft moan and wondered if the sound came from her
lips or from his own. He couldn’t tell. His hand dropped to her throat, and he
felt her pulse beating, accelerating at his caress. “Make love to me, Tom,” she
whispered.

Their lips melted together in a lingering, delicious moment.
A long, gentle kiss. Unhurried. Her fingers curled around the nape of his neck,
tugging him closer. Their lips met again, and when he wrapped his arms around
her, she buried her fingers in his hair.

He deepened the kiss. Their tongues danced and teased until
she drew away, gasping for air. She stared up at him. His emotions teetered
precariously.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

She nodded.

Holding her close, he placed her on the bed and lay down
beside her. Eager to touch her, he ran his hand over her neck, across her
shoulder, and down her arm, pushing at the fabric of her gown. Tom moaned and
rolled toward her, pulling her into his arms. Breathing hard, his lips grazed
over her face, and his hands were everywhere at once, cupping her breasts,
teasing her nipples, stroking her belly. He couldn’t get enough of her.

He leaned over her then ran his hands down her legs and up
again. His fingers slipped between her thighs, and she parted her legs,
inviting his caresses.

She was hot, wet, and slick to his touch. His thumb flicked
her swollen bud, circling and kneading it. She cried out in ecstasy, calling
his name over and over.

Turning onto her side, she pressed herself against him,
kissing him wildly. “Please, please!” she begged.

His erection pressed against her wet, willing center, then
slowly, he rolled onto his back, holding her close. She lowered herself onto
him, impaling herself on his engorged staff.

Frantic cries of pleasure poured from her throat as she
leaned her head back and rode him with all the passion they’d held inside now
unleashed. Their bodies came together in a rhythm that grew faster as they
approached the pinnacle.

Tom took control then, rolling again so that he now covered
her body with his. The bed shook beneath them as he thrust into her harder and
deeper with each stroke. Her body arched and bucked, clinging to him as she
reached her climax. Spurred on by her pleasure, he came with her, shouting her
name as together they found release.

* * *
*

The early morning light slipped into the bedroom, crept
silently across the worn floorboards, then glided over the colorful rag rugs
Lucille had crafted, illuminating their playful colors. It eased up onto the
bed, then slanted across Tom’s face. He stirred and opened his eyes to greet
the new day.

At once, his arms reached out to the woman sleeping soundly
beside him. It hadn’t been a dream. Their lovemaking had been real. Tom drew
his wife into an embrace, wondering if she might be interested in a little more
intimate pleasure.

“Morning, sleepy head,” he whispered, kissing her rosy lips.
“Did you sleep well?”

She snuggled against him. “Never better.”

“I think I could get used to this.”

“Hmmm. Me too.”

He slipped an arm around her waist, then stiffened as the
front door of the farmhouse creaked open.

“Tom?” Lucille grasped his hand. “What’s that noise?”

He placed a finger to her lips. “Stay quiet. I’ll see what’s
going on.”

“Faith!” She threw the covers off and leaped from the bed.

Tom shook his head and placed a finger to his lips. “Keep
quiet. I’ll handle this.”

“Hurry, please.”

“Where’s my shotgun?” he asked, hastily grabbing his pants
and slipping them on.

She pointed toward the north wall, near the door. When
they’d moved in, Tom insisted Lucille keep it close for protection. He grabbed
it, then slowly edged his way along the wall. He raised the shotgun to his
shoulder, then blinked as he stepped into the main room of the house. The
brilliant rays of dawn rushed at him, flooding the house with golden light. A
gentle warmth settled over him.

He blinked again. In the center of the room stood his
mother, Faith clutched to her bosom.

“Tommy, put down that gun. You’re liable to shoot somebody
with that thing.”

Slowly, he lowered the shotgun. “What are you doing here,
Ma?”

Lucille came running from the bedroom, drawing a heavy
flannel robe around her as she hurried toward her husband. “Charlotte?” She
stopped and turned toward Tom, obviously as perplexed as he was. “Why is she
here? What’s she doing with Faith?” Unlike her husband, she did more than
simply stand and stare. With quick steps, she dashed across the room. “Give her
to me, Charlotte. Give me my baby.”

“She’s not yours.”

“She’s not yours, either.”

“I’m her grandmother.”

“And I’m—” Lucille stopped when Tom placed his hand on her
shoulder.

This situation could become volatile, and the last thing he
wanted was trouble on a Sunday morning, especially after the wondrous night of
passion he and Lucille had shared.

“What’s going on, Ma?” he asked, shouldering his way between
his wife and his mother. “What are you doing all the way out here?” Tom turned
toward Lucille. “Why don’t you put on some coffee?”

“Yes, I’ll get breakfast started, too.”

“Do you need any help?” Charlotte called after her.

Lucille shook her head. “No, thank you. I can manage.” She
disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Tom alone with his mother.

“All right, Ma. I’ll ask you again. What are you doing
here?”

She ignored him. Staring after her flannel-clad
daughter-in-law, she sighed. “She’s not happy, is she?”

“Who? Lucille?”

His mother nodded. “I know how much she hates me, and you
know it too. She took a dislike to me the first day I came to Sunset, and it’s
only gotten worse. She won’t ever accept me.”

“Can you blame her?” Tom guided his mother toward a chair.
“Let me take Faith, please.” He held out his arms. “Lucille will need to feed
her now.” Already the little girl was beginning to stir and fuss. “I’ll be right
back.” He brushed a kiss to the crown of Faith’s head, then carried her to the
kitchen.

“She’s not staying here, Tom.” Lucille stood with spatula in
hand, gesturing with it toward the door. “If that’s what she’s wanting, you’d
better make it perfectly clear to her that she is not moving in with us.”

“You’re doing it again. You’re jumping to conclusions. Let
me talk to her, all right?”

“Why else would she come all the way out here?”

“Maybe she just wants to visit with us. Isn’t that
possible?” He handed Faith to her. “You worry too much, honey.” He stood close
to her, breathing in the faint traces of lovemaking that still clung to her
skin. Dear God, he loved this woman. Up until that moment, he’d never truly
believed their marriage could actually work. Now, he wanted nothing more.

Tom closed the kitchen door behind him and returned to the
main room. Glancing out the window, he was surprised that he saw no wagon.