by Megan Hart
"Stop the wagon!” Caite shrieked. She did not wait for him to comply, but instead stood unsteadily. The horses were moving at a rollicking pace, and she found it hard to maintain her balance, but she would risk falling off before she would spend another moment in Jed's company.
"Are you crazy?"
"Stop this wagon, or before God, I'll jump off and take my chances!"
"Ho, Ginger! Ho, Nutmeg!"
He must have seen the seriousness of her intent, because he immediately began to pull back on the reins. The horses snorted and strained against the sudden pressure of the bits in their mouths, but they began to slow. They did not obey fast enough to suit Caite, however, who felt wild-eyed with fury.
Before the wagon had completely stopped, Caitleen had gathered her skirts in one hand and grasped the back of the seat in the other. Slinging one leg over the side, she waited briefly for the vehicle to slow a little more, then leaped to the ground with a flash of petticoats. She hit the trail on her feet, then immediately began walking as fast as she could back the way they had come. Behind her, she heard the rumble of Jed's curses as he settled the horses, and presumably, leaped down after her.
Jed easily caught up to her since his legs were much longer. And he was unencumbered by skirts and high-heeled boots that pinched if she walked too fast on the uneven ground. To the devil with him, she thought bitterly. Why could he not just leave her alone?
"Are you insane, woman?” he cried. “You could've broken your leg, or worse!"
Caite whirled to face him, only managing not to strike him by clamping her hands to her sides. “My leg, my heart, what difference does it make?"
Instantly, she saw his eyes soften. She prayed it was not with pity. She might very well throttle him with her bare hands if she thought he were pitying her.
"Where do you think you're going?” Jed asked, reaching out to grasp her arm.
Caite hissed at him like a riled snake, yanking her arm away from his touch. That the hands she had so enjoyed upon her body would dare grasp her now was unthinkable. “Do not dare lay your hands on me!"
She continued walking despite the pain in her feet. Jed followed her, his voice gone suddenly soothing. As if she were a wild animal that needed taming. And maybe I am, Caite thought with a flash of satisfaction. But if she was, he had driven her to it.
"Just calm down now, Caite. Maybe we can talk about this."
Again, she stopped to look at him. “What shall we talk about, Jed? How immoral I am? How loathsome a woman I am, to tempt you and flirt with you? How I dragged you, screaming and protesting, into my bed and forced you to make love to me? I think I am quite finished with that discussion, if it is all the same to you!"
She started walking again, though slower this time. She was winded and her shoes pinched. She knew she could not really walk all the way to Lonesome anyway. Jed was right; she must have been insane to leap from the wagon like that. But what choice did she have? Everything had turned topsy-turvy. She had erred disastrously by ever agreeing to come here in the first place.
"Caite, I'm sorry if what I said hurt you."
"But not sorry you said it! Not sorry you meant it!"
Jed again grasped her arm and forced her to stop. Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her to look at him. “I told you I was an honest man, Caite."
Caite drew a ragged breath. “So you believe those things, truly? You did not just say them out of anger?"
"Caite..."
"So I tempted you, did I?” she asked, aware her voice was trembling but unable to stop it. Jed's accusations had undone her. “Did I do it like this?"
She reached up and unpinned her hat, releasing the mass of her hair to flow over her shoulders. She ran trembling fingers through the length of it then shook her head so the curls tumbled freely about her face in glistening tendrils. Next, she hiked up the hem of her skirt so her trim ankles were clearly visible then showed her legs all the way up to the creamy whiteness of her thighs.
"Is this how I tempted you, Jed?"
"Caite, stop this."
She had started now and a madness had overtaken her, and she was not going to finish until she had hurt him as much as he had her. She smiled crookedly, running her tongue over her lips to moisten them as she imagined a seductress might. Her hands went to the buttons marching up her chest to her throat, and she began plucking them open with practiced fingers.
"Or maybe it was this way, Jed."
"Jesus, Caitleen, stop it!"
"I can not help myself,” Caite retorted. “I am so immoral, you see!"
She flung her arms around him and pressed her mouth to his in a mockery of the tender kisses they had shared. This kiss was not tender. Rough and wild, it was the kiss of a cougar, or perhaps an adder with poison dripping from its mouth. Abruptly, Jed pushed her away so strongly she fell back, tangling her feet and striking the side of her head on the ground.
Instantly, Jed was beside her. “Caite, are you all right?"
She stared up at him, the concern in his eyes like a dagger in her heart.
"Now, I am ashamed,” she said.
* * * *
Jed fully expected Caite to cry. She surprised and impressed him when she did not. Heck, he thought, if I weren't a man, I'd probably be crying plenty. Everything was a tangled mess, and once they got to Heatherfield matters would only get more complicated. Blast himself for thinking from between his thighs and not above his shoulders.
His fingers clenched on the reins so tight the knuckles whitened. He had thought they understood each other. He had assumed she would wish to put their indiscretions behind them just as much as he, but obviously he was wrong. What he could not understand was, why? Why would she wish to flaunt the fact of their lovemaking to anyone? And why did he feel so drawn to this woman who had shown herself again and again to be of loose character?
Jed glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She looked terrible. A deep, purplish bruise had begun to form on the side of her face where she had struck the ground. He wanted to reach out to touch it, to take away the pain. Restraining himself with almost physical force, he reminded himself just what trouble touching her had gotten him into in the first place.
"We'll be at the house in another hour or so,” he remarked almost casually, as though none of their earlier conversations had taken place. “We've been on the ranch for the last few miles, but it's still a ways to the house proper."
"How nice. I look forward to seeing it.” Caite's voice was light, as if she, too, were trying to forget what had passed between them.
Silence once more stretched between them, an invisible barrier that nonetheless kept them apart. Jed shifted uncomfortably. She had a way of making him feel guilty about the whole business. Guilty he was, sure, but for giving in to his raging lust, not for admitting that making love to her was wrong!
"Caite, I want to talk to you about what happened.” He could see her sag a little.
"I'd rather not be reminded of my foolishness, if it is all the same to you,” she said wearily. “I think we've done enough talking anyway, Jed. I do not believe I really wish to hear anything more you have to say about me."
Jed brought the horses to a standstill. It's now or never, he decided. They had to clear things between them before they reached the ranch, or the situation would fester until it exploded.
"I just wanted to tell you I made love to you because I wanted to, Caite, even though it was wrong."
Caite pressed her hands momentarily over her ears, then lowered them as though she were resigned to hearing him out. She looked to him, her beautiful eyes red-rimmed, the skin beneath them dark. She hesitated, then spoke.
"I suppose I should be grateful for that admission.” She thought for another moment then met his gaze solidly. “I came here because my Da lost me in a poker game to a dreadful man."
Jed, astonished, began to speak. Caite waved him quiet. She continued.
"My choices were to marry him, or marry a stranger. I
decided to risk a loveless marriage to a decent man, rather than be bound to a man I knew would treat me horribly.” She sighed loudly then seemed to gather her courage once more. “You can see my choices are limited. I've decided that despite our ... our circumstances, I will stay on at Heatherfield and abide by the terms of my marriage contract."
"I reckon you have to do what you think is right,” Jed said stiffly. Why should he be surprised? He hadn't expected her to say she wanted to run off with him or anything. Had he?
"I cannot pretend our time at the cabin meant nothing to me, Jed,” Caite continued bluntly. “You see, I'm honest, too. Perhaps I am a fool, but I'm an honest fool."
The raw pain evident in her eyes moved Jed against his will. Their time at the cabin had meant something to him, too, even if he could never admit it. Without thinking, he reached out to brush her cheek with his finger. When she pulled away with obvious distaste, it was as if she had spat in his face.
"You shall have your wish,” she said quietly. “I'll never speak of what happened between us at the cabin. I shall never acknowledge our passion got the best of us. I'll pretend it never happened. I shall play at being as chaste a virgin as ever graced a nunnery. Will that please you, Jed?"
Her words nearly tore him apart. No, he wanted to shout. I don't want to forget what happened. I want to keep the memory by me for those cold winter evenings when I have to look at you doing needlepoint in front of the fire, and know I can't touch you. Still, he knew what his answer had to be.
"I reckon that'll please me just fine,” he said through gritted teeth.
"We could've been friends, Jed,” she said softly.
"Yes, I reckon so,” he replied. Could have been, but not now. Not after seeing her in firelight, her hair unbound, her face flushed with a passion he believed was illicit and she did not.
He clucked to the horses to get them moving again. The familiar landscape flowed by them. The chuckling stream he had fished in since he was a boy. The green meadows now dotted with the summer's first wildflowers. The mountains far off in the distance, lording over it all like benevolent kings. All these sights, so comforting in the past, now pierced him wretchedly because he could not share them with her.
At last, as they turned a bend in the trail, the house finally came into view. He heard Caite's sharp intake of breath beside him, and felt a surge of pride in the land he had helped his father build.
"It's beautiful,” said Caite, shielding her eyes against the sun. “Oh, Jed, it is lovely!"
"I'm glad you like it,” Jed replied honestly. “It's your home now."
Caite flicked a glance at him, her expression troubled. She bit her lip, and Jed saw her forcefully smooth her face into a smile that did not reach her eyes. “Yes, I suppose it is."
The horses, sensing how close they were to clean, dry stalls and fresh grain, pricked their ears and began to clip along at a faster pace.
"They can't wait to get home either,” Jed said, smiling. He knew his happy expression was just as false as Caite's.
She turned fully to look at him, not seeming to notice the bouncing of the wagon. “Before we get there, Jed, I just wanted to tell you I understand why you felt we did wrong. I do not agree, but I understand."
Again, Jed condemned the circumstances that had brought them together. Fate had played a cruel trick on them both, but there was nothing to be done now. If they were going to get beyond what had happened, they would have to start now.
"I'm glad,” was his answer.
"And I want you to know that even though your words hurt me worse than anyone ever has, I forgive you."
Oh, sweet heaven. She was forgiving him undeservedly yet again. Was there no limit to this woman's mercy? Better she declare she hated him. Her forgiveness would linger with him far more painfully than her anger.
"I don't believe I said I was sorry,” Jed answered roughly, because he did not know what else to say.
"You did not have to,” Caite replied calmly. “I forgive you anyway."
* * * *
If they weren't harnessed to the wagon, the horses would gallop, Caite thought. As it was, they trotted as fast as they could, Nutmeg snorting at Ginger as if to hurry her along. At least the horses were looking forward to getting home.
Home. The thought was so strange. Still, she had meant what she told Jed. She meant to honor her contract. If that meant promising to honor a man who ran as hot and cold as faulty plumbing, then she supposed she could do that. She had lived with her Da's repeated tantrums. Jed's could not be any worse than those.
She still could not understand why he had turned so vehemently upon her. They were as good as wed, since they had each signed a contract. Did the words of a preacher make such a difference to him?
If only the thought of his kiss still did not make me shiver, she thought miserably. She must be as wanton as he claimed if, despite his injurious words, she still yearned for his embrace. What would marriage to this man be like? He had proved a considerate and passionate lover; never mind that he had come to her against his religious beliefs. Did Baptists preach against pleasure in the marriage bed as well? How could she live the rest of her life never able to touch him as she had last night?
"Looks like everyone's turned out to meet us,” Jed commented, pointing to the house.
"My goodness!” Caite exclaimed. “You didn't tell me there were so many!"
"There's Lorna, our housekeeper, and Cooky's beside her. Shorty's over there by the corral."
Caite steeled herself. These people had known Jed for years. They were all probably like family to him. She wanted to make a good impression.
"I do not see your father,” she said, searching the group for a man old enough to have a son Jed's age.
Jed looked at her, his expression odd. “I don't either."
Caite did not have time to determine why he looked so strange because the wagon had at last pulled up into the yard. Before the horses had even stopped, the woman Jed had pointed out as Lorna bustled off the long porch. Wiping her hands on the front of her apron and smoothing wisps of graying blonde hair away from her face, she smiled with such welcome that Caite's nervousness eased.
"Miss Caitleen O'Neal!” the housekeeper greeted, motioning to Shorty to help Caite down from the wagon. “Here she is arriving, the new mistress!"
Lorna's voice had a lilting accent Caitleen could not quite place. She stood a little shorter than Caite herself, with broad shoulders and hips. Her face was unlined, although Caite guessed her to be well into her fifth decade. As soon as Jed had helped Caite down from the buckboard, Lorna gathered her into her arms and planted a moist kiss upon her forehead.
"We've so long been for you waiting, my dear!” Lorna said, holding Caitleen at arm's length to look her over. “What a pretty bride you will be."
Spying the bruise on Caite's temple, Lorna tutted in concern. “What happened to your head?"
"Oh, that's nothing,” Caite laughed, not wishing to share the embarrassing truth of the injury. “I was just careless."
"Well, I will be taking you in and putting some balm on that nasty bump,” Lorna soothed. Her energy made Caite smile for real this time. “And you, young master Jed! I must be giving my Little Jed a greeting!"
Jed seemed discomfited by the older woman's effervescent greeting, but he submitted to her embrace without complaint. “It's good to be back, Lorna."
Lorna tutted again, turning to Caite. “I am hoping the young master took good care of you on your journey to Heatherfield."
For a moment, Caite's eyes met Jed's. He had certainly taken care of her. Whether that care was good or not, Caite could not say. She broke the gaze, and smiled at Lorna. “Yes, Lorna. He was quite a gentleman."
Lorna began guiding Caite toward the long, low, log home. “Come inside and settle yourself. You must be wanting to clean yourself, and I must be making you some tea."
Caite laughed. “Yes, Lorna, thank you! I would love to wash this road dust away, and
tea sounds lovely."
"I'll put your trunk in your room,” Jed said.
"Thank you, Jed,” Caite replied.
Lorna was bustling her into the house so quickly she was scarcely able to spare him a glance. That seemed to annoy him. Serves him right, Caite thought. He did not wish her to act as though they had been anything but proper with one another. Now see how he liked it.
"Did you make any of your special apple pie?” Jed called after them, almost as if he were looking for an excuse to delay them.
Lorna turned to look at him fondly. “What, you think Cooky would let me into his kitchen? He spent the past three days making enough food to feed an army. I could not be making a pie to save my life."
"I've heard about Cooky's wonderful food. I can hardly wait to taste some,” Caite said. All the attention was a little overwhelming, but nice.
"'Tis a pleasure,” Cooky said from the porch. He was a small, spare man, whose figure denied his occupation. “C'mon inside, Miss Caite, and Lorna'll put the kettle on. I've got some nice fresh biscuits and strawberry preserves."
For the first time since the day before, Caite's appetite flared. Her stomach rumbled, and she remembered she had forgone breakfast and merely picked at lunch. Biscuits and strawberry preserves would certainly do her a world of good.
"That sounds heavenly!"
"Hold on just a minute, there, Cooky,” Jed said a little too harshly for the occasion. “Miss Caite has other things to do first than stuff her face."
"What has gotten into you, sir?” Lorna asked Jed. Clucking to Caite, she murmured, “I am thinking perhaps he is a little jealous no one is giving him as much attention as we are giving you."
Caite laughed—glad for once to see even Jed Peters could meet his match. “Oh, I'm certain that's not so."
Lorna nodded knowingly, pinching Jed's cheek as if he were a schoolboy. “Oh, I think the young master has too long been the center of excitement around here. Or perhaps he just wishes to have all the biscuits and strawberry jam to himself."