Boots Under Her Bed

by Jodi Thomas

  Callie pointed to a high shelf. He held her waist as she stood on a chair and stretched to reach just the right spot. Then, when she would have stepped down, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

  With only the light from the fireplace an open door away, they undressed on either side of the bed. He spread out under the covers first and watched her pull a ribbon from her hair and comb it out slowly. The light in the room seemed to dance in the curls.

  When she finally slid beneath the covers, he felt almost drunk on her beauty. Without a word, he lifted his arm and she curled next to him.

  He finally broke the silence. “Say the words.”

  She nodded, knowing what he wanted. “I’m the woman who loves Luke Morgan,” she whispered.

  “Will you lift your gown tonight?”

  “No,” she answered. “But I’d like to kiss you good night if you don’t mind.”

  “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

  The kiss was sweet, light, but they both knew it was the beginning of more.

  Chapter 8

  AT dawn the silence of the cottage was broken by an animal’s wild scream.

  Luke jumped out of bed and ran toward the door. Deep in the night he’d dreamed Callie was crying for him as blood ran over the collar of her white gown. With first light he thought his nightmare might be coming true.

  His thundering stomps frightened two squirrels sleeping in the rafters. They darted like lightning bolts above his head. Without meaning to, he stumbled over the shy skunk curled by the rocker and woke the piglets Callie had decided were too young to sleep out the storm in the barn. Their screams woke several other furry animals he hadn’t known lurked in the dark, and they decided to attack him, by flying, bumping, or clawing their way into him.

  He was halfway across the main room of their cottage when Callie’s laughter stopped him cold. For a moment he didn’t see her, then he saw movement in the corner of the kitchen area by the cook stove. There his wife knelt in her nightgown in front of the big cat.

  “Kittens.” She laughed. “Two already. One black and one gray. Oh, Luke, they’re so beautiful.”

  “Really,” he managed to say as he tried to slow his heartbeat and pull the zoo off him. Without bothering to move in for a closer look, he walked back to the bedroom and pulled on his trousers, heaviest sweater, and wool socks. At least now if one of them bit him, they’d have to bite harder to draw blood.

  When he returned to the kitchen stove, all the not-so-friendly forest friends had disappeared back into their hiding places. He sat on the floor beside Callie and pulled her bare feet out from under her gown. Shoving her icy toes into another pair of his socks, he said, “First I keep you from freezing to death, then I count the kittens.”

  She was too busy to notice what he was doing. “Want to watch the next one being born? The mother eats away the birthing sac.”

  “They’re born in bags? That’s interesting.” In all his life he’d never seen anything born.

  He pulled her into his lap and circled her with his arms. “I don’t know if I want to watch, but I’m here to boil water or whatever is needed.” He pushed his face into the wild curls of Callie’s hair and breathed deep, thinking that if he could have taken just this one smell with him into the mines he wouldn’t have minded living in the darkness forever.

  For the next hour, they watched first the births, then the mother cat take care of each kitten, washing her newborn and pushing it into the warm fur of her belly.

  Callie giggled and encouraged the cat as if Mother Marble could understand every word she said.

  Luke rested his chin on her shoulder and enjoyed watching Callie far more than he did the cat. Finally, he said, “I had no idea how much work giving birth is. I never knew the mothers had to do so much. Somebody should have told Dorothy about this cleaning up and licking away the blood before she got pregnant.”

  He felt Callie’s chuckle against his chest. “Oh, Luke, aren’t they cute?”

  He thought they looked far more like blind, wet rats, but he didn’t want to hurt Marble’s feelings just in case she understood human talk. “Yeah, real cute. You think we could leave them long enough to make coffee?”

  She stretched in his arms. “I don’t know, I’m happy right here.”

  He thought the same thing, for their bodies touched in several spots and he wondered if she paid any attention to how often he stroked her. Slowly, he was learning the curves of her body, the soft feel of her skin, the way she felt against him day and night.

  With regret, he pushed her up. “Coffee,” he said, directing her toward the pot a few feet away. “I’ll build up the fire while you try to think up names for the new arrivals.”

  An hour later they had breakfast by the windows, watching it snow and laughingly arguing over names. Big, huge flakes turned everything to a wonderland and closed them away from the world.

  The cottage was silent now with the birdcages still covered and the fox curled in a basket by the door. The three little piglets that she’d brought in from the barn were making grunt-snuffle sounds. They were sleeping on straw in the hip tub near the back door.

  This was a peaceful place, he thought. A kind of heaven that he’d never known. The main ranch house was big and cold and could have belonged to anyone, but this cottage was warm and colorful and all Callie. Part shadow, part light, but all bathed in warm harmony.

  As the day passed, he read to her while she sewed, then they played poker with the beans they planned to cook for supper. When he lay down for a nap, she joined him, and they drifted into sleep smiling.

  In the afternoon a bit of sun came out and Luke dug a path to the barn so they could check on the horses and let the little pigs go back to their mother. He felt young for the first time in three years, playing in the snow, then running back into the house, deciding it was far too cold to be outside.

  They hung their wet clothes on a rod across the kitchen space and ate supper again on the quilt by the fireplace. As the evening aged, he read from The Adventures of Tom Sawyer while she rested her head on his leg.

  Finally, cuddled by the fire, they began to talk. Both had grown up as only children. Callie, here on the ranch with her parents and grandparents. Him, with only his dad. Most of his memories in a mining town were of always waiting for his father to make it home from the mine where he worked six days a week. Then, on Sunday, they went to church.

  She talked of cookouts in the summer with barbecue and fresh corn and beans. He remembered thinking himself lucky when he had an apple in his pail that usually held only a hard biscuit. She told of riding and camping out with her parents in the summer. Luke remembered the seasons mostly by the number of layers he had to wear. Her world had held such color and his seemed all browns and grays.

  When Luke was fifteen, he heard the mine bell sounding as he left school. There had been a cave-in. His father never come home.

  A week later he’d been offered his father’s job and Luke’s dreams of going to school were forgotten. No one took him in or helped him. He hadn’t asked. It was time for him to become a man.

  “If I hadn’t met Dorothy one Sunday at church three years later, I’m not sure I would have started studying. Until then I was just drifting through weeks that turned into years. The only thing I loved was reading. I’d buy a book or two on payday and read it so many times it fell apart. After I started writing Dorothy, I decided I had to change something in my life and studying at night seemed the only road out. A priest I’d met offered to lend me law books so I started there. By working nights I could sit through a trial now and then.”

  “So we should stop by and thank Dorothy? Let her know that you’re still alive?” Callie pushed her toes beneath his thigh for warmth.

  He shook his head. “I know I was never really real to her, just someone to write to and dream about, but maybe she wasn’t real to me, either. I just needed to believe she was waiting for me to make something of myself.” He grinned, quo
ting something he’d read a long time back. “She was the star I charted by, but not my destination.”

  “You’re real to me, Luke. I’m glad you studied and saved. I’m glad you came here, even if it wasn’t for me.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her nose. “Time for bed, Sunshine. Thanks for the best day of my life.”

  She rose beside him. “Me, too.”

  As they walked toward the bedroom, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back, she said, “Luke, could it always be like this between us? Easy and nice for as long as we’re together?”

  “I don’t know. I think I’d like it if it were.”

  “Me, too.” She stepped into the bedroom as he turned back, remembering to add one more log to the fire.

  For a long moment he stared out into the night where all the world looked peaceful. Something strange was happening inside him. He could feel himself changing all the way to his core. He was coming alive.

  When he finally crawled into bed, Callie was warm and nearly asleep. He pulled her close, loving the way she let him touch her.

  “I love you, Luke Morgan,” she whispered.

  He kissed her forehead. “I know. Will you lift your gown?”

  “No,” she started to say as his mouth covered hers.

  He kissed her deeper tonight, wanting more of her. Wanting all she’d allow.

  He’d expected her to turn away, but she let him kiss her fully and he felt her waking. As she began to kiss him back, he leaned over her, pressing his body against hers.

  When he finally broke the kiss, he could feel her rapid breathing against his chest. He stared down at her, giving her time to slow her breathing, loving the feel of her beneath him, loving the wetness on her lips and the way her eyes half closed in pleasure.

  “I’ll have another, if you’ve no objection,” he whispered as he fisted his hand into her hair and lowered over her once more.

  She opened her mouth in invitation and he kissed her again.

  When he pulled an inch away, she gulped for air and smiled, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling.

  “Say the words again while you’re awake and not half-asleep.” He almost didn’t recognize his own voice, rough and low with need.

  “I’m the woman who loves Luke Morgan,” she whispered.

  He cuddled her close, making sure quilts covered her completely. “Go to sleep now, Callie.”

  Chapter 9

  THE next few weeks after the storm were busy, but Luke stood by her side. Fences were down, corrals needed rebuilding, and the stock had to be looked after. Every man on the ranch was needed. To Callie’s surprise, Luke fit in at the ranch better than she thought he would. He had a great deal to learn, but his easy manner welcomed instruction and help. He worked as hard as any hand during the day and stayed up late most nights straightening out her books and teaching her how to keep everything in order.

  She learned to trust his skills and admire his logic. He’d stepped into a way of life he knew nothing about, but he tried his best and that was more than she’d expected.

  Some nights he was so tired and sore he didn’t even ask her to lift her gown, but she never forgot to tell him she loved him. When he did kiss her, the passion surprised her, but he never demanded more than a kiss. He was like a man learning to breathe and each day he drew in deeper.

  It was the end of February before they had time to go the few miles into town. After spending over a month outdoors, he’d changed. His face was tanned and he wore his western clothes like a true cowboy. The too-short hair now brushed over his collar in midnight curls and his strong jawline was framed with a short beard. She often teased him, saying he looked like a Roman gladiator. Even the Stetson he hadn’t known how to put on the day of their wedding was now worn and fit like it had been made just for him.

  Something else she noticed was the twinkle in his deep blue eyes. Luke was happy. All day he might be one of the men warrioring through weather and the work, but when he came home, he always smiled at her when he saw her waiting for him on the porch. They’d have supper, then he’d ask about her animals or read to her while she sewed.

  She loved the way he read as if crawling into the stories and running through danger with the characters. And today she loved the easy way his hand rested on her leg as he drove into town. To all they must seem like an old married couple now. Folks waved their greetings and Luke always waved back. But to her, every day, every night with him was something new.

  He pulled up to the line of shops on the one main street of Shallow Creek. “I’ll check in at the bank and then go over to the sheriff’s office. How much time do you need to shop, Sunshine?”

  “Two hours,” she answered. “I should have time to put a dent in the bank account by then. Mamie and the cook both sent lists and I need to order wool for the loom.”

  “Buy another dress,” he said as he helped her down. “Though I’m fond of this one, it wouldn’t hurt to own two.”

  As he swung her onto the boardwalk, he bent and kissed her on the cheek. A tender kiss like she’d grown used to every time they parted.

  “Be careful,” she whispered. They’d heard rumors that her stepfather had been drinking in town after the widow wouldn’t take him in. He’d told everyone that his stepdaughter had ruined his life. He said he’d slaved over the land and been left with nothing.

  “Don’t worry,” Luke said. “I think I’ll stop in at that little law office I visited next to the bank and pick up the facts on Texas law. How about I pick you up at the schoolhouse later? Maybe we could talk Quentin and Lindsey into having dinner with us at the hotel.”

  “They wouldn’t,” she said, knowing her shy friends well. “Folks would think they were stepping out with each other. It’s not that way between them.”

  “I’ll ask Quentin anyway. We could laugh about the wedding I barely remember.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re wrong about the way it is between them.”

  He was gone before she could ask any questions. He was wrong, of course. She’d known Quentin and Lindsey all her life. She would have noticed if there was something going on between them.

  Callie stood watching him leave and thinking how much her life had changed over the weeks. When she turned to start her shopping, she saw Dorothy standing in the doorway of a dress shop. She held a newborn in her arms. Luke’s old love looked puffy and tired and unhappy.

  “Well, if it isn’t Crazy Callie.” Her greeting wasn’t friendly.

  “Hello, Dorothy.” Callie straightened, not feeling the slap of her nickname as much as usual. For over a month no one had even hinted that she was crazy. There was only one person now that counted and Luke didn’t think she was crazy. “That’s a beautiful baby you got there. Has your hair.”

  Dorothy ignored the child in her arms as she nodded toward Luke. “I threw him away, you know.” Her gaze followed the wagon moving away as she talked to Callie. “Didn’t even let him step foot in my house.”

  “I know,” Callie said slowly, not wanting to cause a scene. “I guess I got the hand-me-down husband you didn’t want.”

  “What kind of man comes halfway across the country to be with a girl he sat in church with a few times?” Dorothy seemed to be talking more to herself than Callie. “I figured he was desperate, and apparently he was. He married you, didn’t he? Probably no girl in Virginia wanted him if he had to come all the way out here.”

  Callie couldn’t argue. Luke had surely been about as low as a man could get to agree to marry her. She’d always known that. But he had married her. He’d saved her and he’d been kind. She owed him.

  “I love Luke Morgan, Dorothy. I have since the morning I first saw him.” The words came out so honest and strong she knew they were true. She was no longer saying them just because he’d asked her to.

  Dorothy, who’d always known just the right cutting thing to say since she could talk, was speechless. Finally, she managed, “Well, if that’s all you want, Crazy Callie, I wish you
well. You’re welcome to him.”

  Callie smiled. “He’s all I want.” She walked around Dorothy and smiled, realizing that for the first time in her life she felt sorry for Dorothy Trimble. She’d always been the prettiest, most popular girl in school. In fact, Lindsey and Callie first became friends because they were so often the brunt of her jokes on the playground. Only today, she was just a woman, not a friend or an enemy. For once she’d tossed away something worth keeping and she had no one to blame but herself.

  Callie spent the afternoon shopping, piling up bags and boxes to be picked up on their way home. She even bought another dress and decided to wear it to dinner that night, if Luke managed to get both Quentin and Lindsey to go out with them.

  She told herself one dress was the same as another, but she picked one belted with a blue ribbon because Luke often played with the ribbon she wore in her hair.

  When Luke finally showed up at the schoolhouse, he’d already picked up her bags and had Quentin in tow. The lanky bartender didn’t look comfortable, but he nodded a greeting to both Lindsey and her.

  “Luke says he’s buying steaks, so I thought I’d come along,” Quentin said without taking his gaze off Lindsey.

  “Well, if it’s steaks he’s buying, I might go along with you.” The proper schoolteacher didn’t smile. “You offering apple pie for dessert, too?”

  Luke brushed his hand along the ribbon at Callie’s waist. “I guess I am. Since my wife is dressed up tonight, we might as well go all out. This’ll be our way of thanking you two for getting us together.”

  At the hotel restaurant, the party mood continued. Luke even ordered wine with the meal, though Lindsey would not touch liquor in a public place. The school board would fire her for sure.

  They laughed about the wedding and all took their turn complaining about the music Mrs. Winters had played.