The Bluebird

by Kristy McCaffrey

She gasped, startled, and he increased the pressure. He brought his face to hers and kissed her, feeling the build-up inside her. She gripped his shoulders, trembling, and Jake couldn’t keep himself from her any longer.

  He pushed her left leg wider and barely joined with her, trying to give her a moment to adjust to him. Her breathing came in rapid bursts, and her mouth devoured his as her hips moved upward.

  He slid into her fully, the coupling tight.

  So much for restraint.

  Reaching back, he guided her leg to hook behind his thigh, then he withdrew and thrust once, then twice. That’s all it took. As he went over the edge, he held her tight, and she succumbed alongside him.

  She was his soul. She was his everything. If he could be with her, like this, for eternity, then he would require nothing more. He drank her in with a kiss.

  The musky smell of sex and the sweet aroma of her skin, her hair, her breath surrounded him, his release leaving him content.

  It had never been like this with a woman. Ever.

  He braced himself above her with a forearm and looked down into her face.

  She opened her eyes and smiled, serene and satisfied.

  “I love you, Molly Rose. I’m not looking to ever lose you again.”

  “You never did lose me.” She touched his cheek with her fingertips. “And we weren’t careful about this. We didn’t avoid a baby the way Pearl had said we should.”

  “I don’t care.” He kissed her. “Let’s get married tomorrow.”

  She laughed. “You’re crazy.”

  “Maybe. Probably. I can’t live without you.”

  “People will think I married you to get my hands on your claim.” She shifted her fingers to play with the hair on his chest.

  Jake pressed forward to remain inside her.

  “Anything I have is yours, Molly. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  She squeezed her legs around him. “I’m glad you don’t anymore. And yes, I’ll marry you although how I’ll explain this to my folks, I have no idea.”

  “I’ll help you.” He stole another kiss.

  “I love you too, Jake.”

  He stilled and looked at her again. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t mean it.”

  She released a frustrated sigh and pushed against him. “You’re such an impossible man.”

  He held her in place. “I have no intention of letting you leave this bed.”

  She lifted her face to his and began covering his cheeks and nose and chin with kisses. “Then tell me you love me again.”

  “I’ll do better.” His body responded. “I’ll show you.”

  They didn’t speak again for some time.

  * * *

  Molly lay in Jake’s arms, her naked body draped against his. He’d only left the bed once to remove Fernando’s saddle and settle the horse for the night.

  Three times he’d loved her, and Molly wondered if he might again before daybreak. Feeling sleepy and happy, she snuggled closer. His fingers splayed across her scalp and tangled in her hair, which flowed down her bare back.

  Jake tugged at the blanket to further cover her.

  Molly didn’t know what the future held, but a huge weight had left her this night. As long as she had Jake, nothing else mattered. They would work through whatever obstacles came their way.

  “How did you know about Shep and the land?” she asked.

  “Henry and Boom clued me in. Esme had heard what Shep was trying to do, so I tracked down the owner of the nearby parcel and made him an offer.”

  “Why on earth would he sell? He must’ve known about the Bluebird and the potential value of that valley.”

  “I offered him twenty thousand, and he took it.”

  Molly raised her head. “Where did you get that kind of money?”

  “I had a bit stashed away.”

  “Is there any left?”

  Jake ran his thumb along her lower lip. “Nope.”

  “Why would you do that when you were so angry at me?”

  “Because it’s my job to protect you. In my anger, I lost sight of that. I promise never to do it again.”

  Molly climbed atop him, giving him a flash of her breasts. His eyes flicked downward, and judging by his focused gaze, she had his full attention. His open satisfaction with her body emboldened her to explore how she might arouse him.

  And so began round four.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The following morning Jake entered Cora’s Restaurant, scanned the room, and then approached the table where Robert sat. As he neared, he gave a nod to his old friend and took the chair opposite him.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” Jake said.

  Cora appeared and poured steaming black coffee into two cups. “It’s sure nice to see you two breaking bread.” She grinned. “The usual?”

  Jake nodded. “Thank you, Cora.”

  She winked and departed.

  Robert leaned back in his seat. “My sister disappeared last night from the festivities at the Patterson’s house. I’m guessing you had something to do with that.”

  Jake sipped the bitter brew. “I was wrong about her, and for that I’m sorry.”

  “Did she forgive you?”

  The night of holding her in his arms, of loving her with every last ounce of strength he had, still thrummed in his veins. In the early morning hours, he’d accompanied her back to Zang’s. He’d done nothing but miss her since. “I’m grateful that she did,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

  Cora came to the table and deposited two plates piled high with fried eggs, potatoes, steak, and biscuits. “Bon appétit.”

  Jake dug in. It was the first decent meal he’d had in the past few weeks, and now that things were finally right between Molly and him, his hunger was back in full force and for more than just food. He’d go to Molly as soon as he and Robert were done.

  “We’ll need to finalize the paperwork on the Bluebird Mining Company this week.” Robert bent forward over his plate and swallowed a forkful of egg dripping with yoke.

  “How do you think this partnership will go with Charlotte Cohen?”

  Robert raised an eyebrow. “I think we’ll need to let Molly handle her. Charlie seems to feel indebted to her. I’m not sure why. But she’s more wary of Bridget, probably because of Shep and all that he put her through. She had a contract with him, but I’ve shown it to a lawyer. It can easily be invalidated.”

  Jake cut his steak. “And what about Shep? Is he gonna play nice?”

  “Bridget’s working on that.”

  “And you trust her?”

  Robert pinned him with a glare. “Yeah, I do. We’ve all stumbled, but together we can work through this.”

  Jake paused, and a smile formed on his lips. “Then let’s run ourselves a mining company. We’re going to need capital, though.”

  “Henry has two sources he’s been negotiating with out of New York City.”

  Having disposed of the food on his plate, Jake wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Can you believe this? That we’re sitting here, majority owners in the Bluebird mine, and we’re actually going to have a chance at this.”

  Robert smiled, mischief in his eyes, reminding Jake of their early days prospecting together, when they combed the mountains using grit and gumption, luck high on their wish list.

  “It’s going to be a hell of a ride,” Robert said.

  “I have a favor to ask.”

  Robert tossed his napkin on the table. “What’s that?”

  “Stand beside me when the judge comes to town tomorrow.”

  Robert snorted. “You have no goddamn patience.”

  “When it comes to your sister? No.”

  “And what about my folks?”

  “As soon as we get things going with the mine, I’ll take her to Tucson and smooth things over with your father.”

  Robert laughed. “They won’t like it, but then they know Molly, so I doubt they’ll be surprised. Although I’m sure I’l
l get a tongue-lashing from my mama for letting you near my sister in the first place.”

  “You know I love her, right?”

  “And that’s the only reason I’ll let you marry her tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Molly stared at the gold band on her left hand as she sat on the bed, light flickering with a soft glow from the oil lamp on the nightstand. Jake reclined opposite her, his head propped on pillows against the wrought-iron headboard, and watched her. She liked him this way—naked as the day he was born although a sheet covered him from the waist down, his muscled torso still sweaty from their lovemaking.

  They’d chosen to spend their wedding night in her room at Zang’s since the bed was bigger.

  Jake wrapped his hand around her calf and began caressing the skin, causing an instant reaction in her abdomen and other sensitive places. In fact, all Jake had to was look at her, and she could all but feel him touching her.

  Molly couldn’t suppress the sigh of contentment that washed through her.

  “Happy?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She shifted the gauzy material of the wrap that Pearl had gifted to her for her wedding. It was quite provocative, if Jake’s brooding gaze on her body was any indication. Pearl had instructed her to wear it only with nothing underneath. “Are you?”

  “More than you’ll ever know.”

  She resisted throwing herself at him. But if he kept talking to her like she was a rare jewel, she’d give him all the loving he could muster.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said.

  She slipped the wrap from her shoulders. “About what?”

  He hissed as she bared herself. “Let me get my thought out before you distract me.”

  She threw the material on the floor. “I’ll give you ten seconds.”

  “When things settle here, I want to take you somewhere.” His hand began to slide from her calf to her knee.

  “Where?”

  “Some place far away.”

  His fingers found his goal and she gasped. He sat up, clasped his other hand behind her head, and kissed her, his mouth hungry and demanding.

  He broke the kiss. “You want to see the world, and I want to be the one to show it to you.”

  A wide smile spread across her lips, and a giddy laugh escaped her. “All right, Jackal, show me.”

  Epilogue

  Constantinople

  One year later

  Molly threaded her way through the busy Turkish bazaar, surrounded by men in turbans and loose-fitting pants and women in silky garments. Molly wore similar attire, including covering her face with a veil. During her travels with Jake, she’d garnered a healthy respect for local customs and did her best to blend in whenever possible.

  Constantinople—Istanbul, or Stamboul as foreigners sometimes called it—was fairly progressive in how women were treated. Since the British had a strong presence, western females were tolerated better here than other places in the Middle East.

  She ducked past a donkey loaded with rugs and entered Demir’s Bakery.

  “Merhaba, Bayan McKenna,” Demir said, grinning behind his counter. “What can I do for you today?” He prided himself on his English usage.

  “Merhaba,” Molly replied. “I need your best Baklava, Demir.”

  “It is my pleasure.” Demir gathered several portions of the flaky pastry into a box.

  Molly paid and took her treasure, thanking her Turkish friend. It was her treat for Jake for the evening, since today—June 2—was their one-year anniversary.

  She left the bazaar and walked along a narrow passageway to the tiny apartment she and Jake shared in a crowded neighborhood of latticed Turkish houses.

  They’d left Creede six months ago and had spent several weeks in Tucson with her folks and Evie, then they’d stopped in Texas to visit with her Aunt Molly and Uncle Matt and her cousins and other uncles and aunts. After that, they’d traveled to New York City, then London. Jake had taken her to Paris, where she had practiced her French, then eventually they rode the Orient Express to Constantinople, visiting Munich, Vienna and Budapest along the way.

  Once in Turkey, Jake had wanted to remain for an extended time, and Molly hadn’t objected. The cosmopolitan city of Istanbul was exotic and foreign in a way that mesmerized her. She was fascinated how it straddled two continents—Asia and Europe, the Bosporus Strait separating it. She’d been wooed by the Muslim culture and fascinated by the flat dome of Saint Sophia, a miracle of construction from the early days of the city, when it was known as Byzantium.

  She loved watching the sun set on the Sea of Marmara and eating strange and delicious Turkish foods in local restaurants, her favorite being stuffed dolmas—grape leaves wrapped around a vegetable filling. She further indulged her curious mind with visits to the opera—her favorite so far had been Mozart’s The Abduction from the Seraglio about lovers separated after a pirate’s abduction—and reading about the explorations of David Livingstone in Africa. Jake promised a visit to that continent would be their next adventure.

  But Molly was aware that the news she had to share with him might likely change their plans, and not entirely in a bad way.

  She hoped he would be as pleased as she was.

  She let herself into their apartment and waited for him to return from his business meeting.

  Muffled thumping preceded Jake’s entrance. Dragging a large, rolled rug through the door, he smiled as Molly set her book aside and rose from the sofa to help him.

  “I take it the meeting went well?” she asked.

  “We’re going to be rug dealers, Chigger.”

  She shut the door as he dropped his goods on the floor. “Did you bring me a sample?”

  “It is our anniversary, and I know you’ve been wanting one.” He pushed the kitchen table and chairs back then unrolled the rug.

  As he unfurled the exquisite and intricate red-hued design, Molly couldn’t contain her excitement. “Oh Jake, I love it.” She helped him adjust the rectangular piece then stood back to admire the gift.

  Standing behind her, he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her neck. “This is how I would die into the love I have for you: as pieces of cloud dissolve in sunlight.”

  Molly sighed. She easily succumbed when Jake quoted Rumi, and he knew it.

  “Red is a symbol of the mystery,” he murmured, his breath tickling her ear. “Red is present in a rose, a ruby, in the blood that courses through our veins. It’s the fire inside a cook stove and in the brilliance of a sunset. It’s at the root of all that is. Love is painted in all shades of crimson and scarlet.”

  She peeked over her shoulder at him. “Wait a minute. I thought blue was your favorite color.”

  He raised her left hand to his mouth and lightly bit the inside of her wrist. “Quit ruining my seduction.”

  “My apologies, but I have news first.” She stepped from his arms and faced him. “I’m pregnant, Jake.”

  His eyes lit with joy, relieving a burden of worry. “Are you certain?”

  She nodded.

  He folded her into his arms and kissed her, his touch gentle, almost reverent. He moved his gaze to her abdomen and placed his large hand upon it. “I love you, Molly. Nothing is more important than you and this child. If you want to leave Constantinople, just say the word. Should we return to Arizona?”

  Molly knew he worried over taking her so far from home, and it was true she experienced sharp twinges of homesickness that she’d never expected, but being with her husband was more important to her than anything.

  “No.” She laid her hand over his. “My place is with you. We’ll have this child here. Mama and Papa have said they’ll visit—this will be the perfect excuse for them. They’ve even said they would leave Evie with us for a time. She’d be a great help with the baby, and we can introduce her to the marvelous riches of Europe and Asia.”

  He kissed her, lingering.

  “You’re not missing the excitement of Creede, are you?” she asked.

&nb
sp; “No. I sold my shares to Robert at the right time although I am sorry the price of silver has plummeted so drastically.”

  “I know, but he and Bridget were smart and invested in horses and cattle. They’ll survive.”

  Jake knelt down so he was face to face with his future offspring. “And I suspect the exchange rate of silver will eventually recover. Robert is far more patient than I am.”

  Molly knew that was true if their hasty marriage had been any indication, but nothing in her life had been more genuine or more right.

  “Before I thank you for the rug,” she ran her hand through his hair, “you should know that I have Baklava.”

  He groaned. “You make impossible ultimatums.”

  “What if I said I’d serve the pastry to you in bed?” She arched her eyebrow. “Without a shred of clothing?”

  He stood, then cupped her backside with his hands and kissed her deeply. “Then I shall quote Rumi to you all night long.”

  “I want to sing like the bird sings, not worrying about who hears or what they think.”

  Jake watched her with amusement. “Since when did you start reading Rumi?”

  “I’m a quick study, Jackal.”

  His laughter filled her with love, while the intensity in his dark eyes made her want to meet him in a place filled with need and longing and soul-deep hunger.

  He led her to the bedroom. “Believe me, I know.”

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Thank you so much for reading The Bluebird. I truly hope you enjoyed the story. If you would consider posting a review, I would be forever grateful as it helps tremendously in the discoverability of a book. ~ Kristy

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Sign up for Kristy’s newsletter and receive a free short novella—Song Of The Wren. Two years after THE WREN, Matt Ryan finds more than rustlers when his cattle begin disappearing. Forced to confront an enemy he thought long gone, he must ready for a fight, but he’s never faced a battlefield like this before, and only his wife, Molly, can save him this time.