Evelyn's Promise (A More Perfect Union Series Book 4)

by Betty Bolte

  Several minutes passed with only the sound of the fire and her son's suckling. Time in which her tumbling thoughts quieted and her breathing slowed. She lifted the blanket and peered at her son's face, smiling at the tiny nose, closed eyes, and active mouth. He was her world.

  The door opened to let Jemma and Nathaniel enter, the woman laden with quilts and pillows while Nathaniel trundled the handcart filled with pine straw into the far side of the building where the carriage had once been parked. While not as comfortable, mayhap, as regular straw, or a real stuffed mattress, it definitely was plentiful in the woods.

  "Hold on." Evelyn rose, snugging Jim close, and went to the table, clearing off the rags and tools with one hand. "Put those on the table for now."

  Nathaniel forked three piles of straw onto the dirt floor. Two close together and one set a ways apart. "Bring a couple quilts over."

  "Warm, if not comfortable beds, for sure." Jemma selected three blankets, spreading them on the individual piles.

  Evelyn returned to her seat, repositioning Jim under the cover to latch onto her other breast. Relief flowed into her at Nathaniel's consideration, keeping his pile separate from hers and her servant's. She lifted her eyes to ask Jemma to set the table but stopped at Nathaniel's enthralled expression. He stared at her as if trying to memorize every detail. After a moment, he blinked and a slow smile spread onto his face.

  "You're beautiful, Lyn." He sauntered toward her, one slow step at a time. "You and your baby."

  "Nathaniel, what are you doing?" She stopped the rocking chair as the handsome man drew nearer. Expectation replaced the relief, shoving it aside without warning.

  "Something I've wanted to do all day."

  "What might that be?" But she knew, because it was the same thing she'd wanted all day, too.

  "I'm going to taste you, my sweet Lyn." He leaned down to grip the arms of the chair. "Would you permit me to kiss you?"

  She sucked in a breath, gazing up at him. A quick glance at Jemma confirmed they had an audience, but the young woman smiled in encouragement. What would it hurt to kiss him? She was a grown woman, a widow who could choose her own path. She peered at Nathaniel and nodded, words failing her again.

  His smile lit his eyes as he leaned closer, his gaze fastening on her waiting lips. When he pressed his to hers, she closed her eyes against the onslaught of sensations rocking her equilibrium. She longed for the buss to continue, but Jim squirmed in her clasp and Nathaniel broke their connection. She gazed at him, fighting the urge to stand and kiss him again when he licked his lower lip, apparently savoring the remains of the kiss.

  The baby stirred, interrupting the moment. She shrugged and shook off the lingering desire before addressing Jemma. "Will you ready him for bed while I set out our dinner?"

  Jemma took the babe while Evelyn turned her back to Nathaniel and refastened her clothing under the blanket draped over her shoulder. When she'd finished, she pivoted to face him, tugging the light covering to drape it over one arm. "I'm sorry we were interrupted."

  "You don't need to apologize for caring for your son." Nathaniel clasped her hands, lifting them to kiss each palm. "Your love for him only makes you more beautiful in my eyes."

  A frisson of need quivered down her back. "I wish you wouldn't say such things."

  He raised one brow and squeezed her fingers. "You don't want me to speak the truth?"

  "Yes, I do, which is why you shouldn't tease me with your compliments."

  "You make me happy, Lyn." He chuckled and drew her into an embrace. "Happier than I've been in a long time."

  With her head against his shoulder, and her sensitive breasts mashed against his chest, Evelyn had but one thought. It was going to be a very long night.

  Chapter 16

  Sleep evaded Evelyn. Even with her eyes closed, Nathaniel's nearness tickled her senses. The rhythmic sound of his breathing. An occasional rustle of pine needles when he shifted. It didn't help that he'd assigned the farthest bed to Jemma. Not one tiny bit. Mere inches separated her bed from his.

  Little Jim slept, swaddled and snuggled into the bed beside her. She had settled him on her left, the side opposite from where Nathaniel lay. The boy made soft sounds in his sleep, perhaps communicating with the forest fairies in his dreams. She smiled to herself at the whimsy, a bit of nonsense to pass the time since she remained wide awake despite the late hour.

  Jemma never moved after she'd laid down and covered herself with a blanket. Evelyn propped up on her elbows and sighed. If she rose, she'd wake the others. Moonlight illuminated the night sky beyond the windows, though she couldn't see clearly through the imperfections of the glass. Embers glowed red in the fireplace, failing to warm the room with its waning heat.

  A rustle sounded beside her, drawing her attention. Nathaniel sat up and then yawned as he stretched. The sleeves of his shirt pulled up, exposing muscular forearms. She swallowed, desire washing through her as he lowered his arms and aimed a lopsided grin at her. She smiled back. What was he thinking?

  "Couldn't sleep?" Nathaniel whispered as he moved under the blanket to sit cross-legged, resting his elbows on his knees.

  "No." She also kept her voice low. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

  He shook his head, his hair brushing his shoulders with the motion. "I only need a few hours."

  She'd like a few hours to run her hands through his hair. Better yet, to run her hands over his muscular shoulders. He shifted to a more comfortable spot, dropping his hands into his lap. The movement drew her gaze down, but she lifted it back up before dwelling too long on his very capable fingers. She blinked several times, trying to clear the picture of what she imagined lay beneath the colorful quilt draped across his legs. Not that she'd seen any other man besides her husband. But based on what she could see of Nathaniel, she could guess. Simmering desire increased to a boil, making her flush and hot. She'd never experienced such an intense longing for a man. Not even her husband. What was wrong with her?

  She knew it was going to be a long night. Especially since she could not act upon her desire. "I'm going to try to sleep because I know to-morrow will be a busy day."

  She flopped down and pulled the quilt up to her chin, shivering from the chill in the air as well as the need to deny her reaction. Turning her head, she gazed at him for a second before closing her eyes. If she didn't look at him, everything would be fine.

  The sound of his quilt moving should have alerted her to his actions. Suddenly, her own blanket moved and her eyes flew open as he slipped under her covers. He pulled her toward him, but she resisted.

  "What are you doing?" She pushed on his chest. A mistake. The contact only made it harder for her to deny the need building inside. "You'll wake the others."

  "Shhh. Let me keep you warm tonight." He stopped tugging on her arm to peer into her eyes. "Nothing more."

  "I'm not cold." Indeed, she was on fire. Burning to do exactly what he suggested. Lie in his arms and feel his heat against her body. But she shouldn't. Couldn't. Could she?

  "You were shivering." He smiled, a knowing grin. "You want to, don't you?"

  "I must not."

  "Nobody need know." He lifted a brow, suggestive and sexy. "It will be between us."

  So tempting. When his gaze lowered to her lips, her resistance faded away. She leaned toward him, drawn to his mouth and the taste of him. One kiss wouldn't hurt.

  When their lips met, it seemed only natural to align their bodies and snuggle beneath the covers together. Sampling and tasting as little moans escaped from her mouth. She'd found her own heaven on earth in Nathaniel's arms. He broke the deep, passionate buss with a series of butterfly pecks to her lips. Wrapped in his warm embrace, sleep stole over her. Her last thought was to deal with the ramifications of her weakness to-morrow.

  Chapter 17

  The first sound of the morning shouldn't be the wail of a baby. Evelyn jerked awake, alone under her covers. Jim's cries brought her fully alert. Sitting up, she pulled h
er hair back by running both hands through the long tresses. A quick glance around the room, lit only by the approaching dawn, confirmed the absence of Nathaniel. Jemma stirred on her bed, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Jim cried louder, his mouth wide and eyes screwed shut.

  "Hush now." She smiled at the vocal demand for breakfast. "I'm here."

  Evelyn gained her feet and then lifted her son into a cuddle. She inspected the pilcher, the woolen square of fabric she'd pinned over his soft napkin to absorb whatever the diaper material did not. Finding it damp, she indicated with her head to Jemma.

  "Will you change him please? I'll ready myself to nurse him in the meanspace."

  "I's coming." Jemma rose from her bed with an ungraceful maneuver and then stretched before walking across the short distance.

  "Thank you." Evelyn handed him off to Jemma to swap out the soiled napkin and strode to the rocking chair to sink onto the seat.

  Minutes later, Jemma handed the boy into Evelyn's waiting arms. Loosening the blanket wrapped around him, she put him to her breast. Relief swept through her as the child suckled, a welcome release of the pressure that had built up overnight. Sunlight edged over the window sill and splashed onto the floor. The first song birds made their presence known. The day ahead would be busy and full of decisions, but for the moment she savored the quiet.

  Jemma busied herself with lighting the fire in order to start the kettle to boiling. Evelyn contemplated the young woman hurrying to put kindling and sticks in the firebox. Jemma had come to her parents a year ago in a trade her father had made with another plantation owner. Her father had disciplined one particularly aggressive Negro several times for laziness and belligerence. He'd finally determined after his "discipline" became beatings that he would rid himself of the problem slave. Thus the trade with another slave owner on the frontier. Jemma had been a good bargain, since she was amiable and gentle. Evelyn held no grudge against the woman; she was capable and friendly. Still, Evelyn would prefer her helpers work for her willingly instead of by force.

  Jim squirmed and stopped sucking, his eyes open and watching her. "Feeling better now, aren't you my love?" She moved him to her other breast and sighed. Was there anything more peaceful than nursing a baby? Knowing she nourished her son?

  Stirring the embers to life, Jemma soon had a small fire lit. She added a few bigger sticks on top before turning to the task of setting water to boil for their morning tea. The last pieces of the spice cake would serve for breakfast before they made the trip back to town later in the morning. In the interim, she had a few final touches to put on the little house to make it a home.

  The door opened and Nathaniel strode in, a rush of cold air chilling the already cool interior. He paused in the open door, taking in the sight of Evelyn nursing Jim. His expression revealed he liked what he saw. She'd forgotten the light blanket in her haste to feed her son. Ah well. Nothing to do about it now except finish.

  He took her breath, the image of a strong, muscular man with tousled hair from what she assumed was his morning ablution. He carried several sticks of firewood in the crook of one arm. Easing the door closed, he crossed the room to place his load in the bin beside the fireplace. Brushing off his hands, he turned to wink at Evelyn.

  "Good morning, Lyn." His smile turned wicked. "I trust your sleep was restful."

  It was a curse to blush so readily, the heat blossoming in her chest and rushing up her neck to inflame her cheeks. "Yes, thank you for asking."

  "I'm pleased to hear you rested well." He winked again and then walked over to the hamper where it remained after dinner at the cloth covered work table the evening before.

  Evelyn tracked his moves, recalling the sensuous way he masticated his chicken and cornbread. Did she say sensuous? Gramercy, she had longed for him to use those lips on hers and that was exactly what she'd gotten. She had to be careful what wishes she made or her perfect plan would fall apart. Much like her comportment had when he kissed her.

  Her thoughts did not help reduce the heat in her cheeks. She forced her gaze away from Nathaniel to check on her son. Looking at him proved safer to her composure, allowing her time to restore her equilibrium.

  "Are you expecting any one?" Jemma crossed to the window, the sound of muffled hoof beats drifting into the room. "There's a rider approaching."

  Nathaniel stiffened and glanced sharply at Evelyn. Seeing the shake of her head, he strode to the door, picked up the rifle leaning against the wall, and went outside. Evelyn heard the horse stop, followed by the murmur of deep voices. If they had company, she should put herself together.

  "Jemma, would you take Jim, please?" Evelyn stood and handed the satiated boy to the nursemaid. "I'll make the tea after I dress."

  "Yes, miss." Jemma reached out to take the smiling baby.

  After Jim had been transferred, cooing and gurgling, Evelyn turned her back to the door to straighten her shift. She picked up her day dress from where she'd draped it over a chair and pulled it on, shaking the light wrinkles out of the skirts. From a small case containing a few of her personal articles, she retrieved a brush. She pulled the tangles from her hair before forming a soft chignon. Slipping on her shoes, she was ready to greet whoever had come visiting.

  She spooned tea leaves into the pot and added the hot water. Then she hurried to join Nathaniel and their guest. She grabbed her cloak from a peg and opened the door.

  Nathaniel stood beside her neighbor, Enoch Mercer. She hadn't spoken to him very often over the years she and Walter had lived on the property. Mainly because his estate was not within sight. But he had seemed friendly the few times they'd met. A flash of movement to her left turned out to be Walter's hunting dogs. So that's where they'd been, with their neighbor. The dogs appeared healthy and well fed.

  "Good day, Mrs. Hamilton." Enoch doffed his hat and performed a half bow. "I'm relieved to hear you are well."

  "Thank you, sir. It's been quite a trial, but I believe everything will be better soon." Evelyn gestured to Belle and Rufus as they checked out the barnyard. "Thanks for caring for them."

  "I saw the activity here on my way by yesterday and determined to bring them to you." He glanced at Nathaniel then back at Evelyn. "I understand you are returning to rebuild and live here?"

  "We've renovated the carriage house for my temporary lodgings until the manor can be rebuilt." She smiled at Nathaniel, recalling his unease regarding her decision. "My servants and I will be quite comfortable for a time."

  "Indeed. If you need anything, don't hesitate to send word. For now, I must be on my way." Enoch replaced his hat on his head and shook hands with Nathaniel before nodding to Evelyn. "Mr. Williams, rest assured I'll do as you ask and keep an eye on your lady."

  Evelyn raised a brow at Nathaniel, but smiled at her neighbor. "Thank you for your concern."

  They exchanged farewells and then Enoch swung into his saddle and cantered away. Evelyn called the dogs when they started to follow him, and they gladly came. She'd missed their happy faces and enthusiastic greetings. Not only would they be good company but also would warn of any visitors. Nathaniel's concerns were based on the reality of her situation. A woman alone, far from town. She'd lived through foraging parties and renegades. She'd survive rebuilding the house, too.

  "You asked him to watch me?" She folded her arms over her chest, brows raised.

  "Most certainly. I cannot, though I would prefer to stay with you." Nathaniel crossed his arms and regarded her with a steady gaze. "Until you have at least your slaves here to protect you, I'll worry over your safety."

  "The war is over. The loyalists have fled and people are striving to restore some sense of normal flow to their lives." She dropped her hands to pat her right skirt pocket. "Plus, I have a pistol."

  "Do you know how to use it?" He relaxed his pose, enclosing one of her hands with his much bigger one.

  She nodded, swallowing the desire rising inside from the gentle caress of her palm. "Father ensured my education while I've been sta
ying with them. Apparently, he had feared for my safety as well, after he heard of Walter's treatment of me. While I was living at home, he decided I should be able to protect myself."

  On a cold, clear day in February, her father had taken her out to the forest in his small carriage. Then he showed her how to handle a coat pistol, a flintlock weapon of a size she could fit into her pocket. They'd spent the morning loading, firing, and then cleaning the gun until she grew accustomed to its weight and effective range. She hit the center of each target she aimed at by the end of their time together, adding to her confidence in using the weapon for her own defense.

  "I'm pleased to know you're not helpless." He squeezed her hand. When she shivered, he peered closer. "Let's go in. You're cold."

  "I'm sure some hot tea will serve the purpose." She spun to go inside, still holding his hand.

  Nathaniel matched her pace until they reached the carriage house. Then he hurried to open the door, retaining his grasp while she stepped past him, barely brushing his arm as she did. Enough, though, to elevate the tension in her midriff. She really needed to take a breath and regain her composure. Be an adult and not some swooning youth.

  Over a quick meal, they settled on a plan of action. Jemma would straighten the temporary quarters and dress Jim. Nathaniel was tasked with readying the wagon for the return to town. Evelyn gathered her belongings and put them into her travel bag before checking the remaining contents of the picnic hamper.

  Suddenly the dogs began barking followed by the sound of horses approaching. Evelyn went out the door and into the barnyard. The dogs faced the road, intent on a low cloud of dust drawing closer. Raising a hand to shade her eyes from the late morning sunshine, she squinted to bring the men into focus. The Sullivans. Two mounted, one driving an immense wagon pulled by four sturdy horses and piled with supplies.