Jewel

by Beverly Jenkins

  “Ah.”

  “And don’t worry. There will be a true washroom in the new house, just like you had at home.”

  “Thanks goodness.”

  He grinned. “Do you want me to go first?”

  She shook her head, saying, “I should be fine, and quick,” she added giving the barrel another skeptical glance. “Let me go back inside and get some clothing.”

  As she hurried away, Eli looked up at his shower and couldn’t imagine what she found wrong with it. Personally, he thought the rigged-up contraption quite clever, and as a bachelor it suited him just fine.

  Jewel had to admit the shower did work; of course she’d had to wash and rinse herself at lightning speed so that she wouldn’t run out of water, but as he’d predicted the big barrel did not fall on her head.

  Later, after they were both clean and in fresh clothing, they sat on a blanket underneath the spread of trees and ate sandwiches and pieces of the pie left over from the reception. Because it was early May, the blood-thirsty mosquitoes weren’t about yet, which allowed them to enjoy the evening in peace.

  “Do you mind if I start cleaning the place tomorrow?”

  Smiling at her persistence, he said into her eyes, “Do I have a choice?”

  She shrugged. “It’s your home.”

  “Our home.”

  “Then I’ll start cleaning our home tomorrow.”

  “Thank you for giving me a choice.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her tone turned serious. “I know how much you must value your things, so I promise not to throw anything away without your approval, but we have to be able to come in the door, Eli.”

  He chuckled softly. “I understand.”

  “Then first thing tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  After the short meal, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “How about we ride over to the bluff and watch the moon rise.”

  “Is this more of Jewel needs to have more fun?”

  “No, this is Jewel needs more of her husband’s kisses.”

  And to prove his point he eased her closer, touched his lips to hers, and kissed her until her knees turned into applesauce. “Am I right?” he whispered.

  “Bull’s-eye,” she managed to reply.

  “I’ll get the buggy.”

  The drive was a short one. When he halted the buggy in the clearing, they saw that just as Adam had promised, some of the surrounding trees had already been felled. Jewel stepped out of the buggy and walked with him to the lip of the bluff that towered over the blue waters of the river below. Standing beside him while they took in the beautiful scene, she could feel her connection to the land slowly rising. At the moment, the tract was as wild and as undeveloped as the Good Lord made it, but before the summer ended, a home would fill the clearing—her home, Eli’s home. The thought gave her goose bumps. Home had always been her father and brothers and at its heart the memory of her mother. Now, in a few months time, she’d be in a place where new memories would take root and grow, and she found herself looking forward to it with anxious anticipation. Once again, she thought about the unexpected turns in life. Never in her dreams had she thought hers would take this road. Never.

  He spread the blanket out and leaned back against a tall maple. “Come sit,” he invited softly.

  Jewel settled herself on his lap and let him wrap his arms around her gently. “I never watched the moon rise like this before,” she confessed.

  He kissed her hair. “I should hope not.” Eli couldn’t believe the contentment he felt. Truth be told, he was enjoying this husband business more and more. “If I could give you three wishes, what would they be.”

  “To have an unlimited number of wishes.”

  He jostled her. “Smarty pants. Be serious.”

  “I am. An unlimited number of wishes.”

  “You are no fun, Mrs. Grayson.”

  “That isn’t what you said in your bedroom earlier today.”

  “Sassy woman.”

  Smiling, she asked, “So, what would your three wishes be?”

  “Not sure.” He knew that one would be that they be able sit this way for eternity, but he kept that to himself.

  She raised up. “Then why’d you ask me?”

  “Wanted to see what you would say.”

  She resumed her position. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll do the same.”

  The moon rose in all its glory and Eli found his wife just as glorious. “Will you sit with me like this after the house is built?”

  “As long as the house comes with a real washroom and shower.”

  He laughed. “You don’t have a romantic bone anywhere in that sweet little body, do you?”

  “I beg your pardon.” She raised up and, imitating the way he always touched her, used a finger to slowly trace his lips. Upon gaining his full attention she kissed him with such warm invitation he drew her closer to receive all she had to offer.

  One thing led to another and she wound up with her blouse undone, her camisole rucked down, her skirt rucked up and his hands and mouth everywhere.

  He husked out, “The first night we move into the house—you, me, on the porch in the moonlight.”

  She drew away. “The porch?”

  He slid a tantalizing finger between her thighs. “The porch, the buggy, the kitchen table.”

  Jewel’s breath stacked up in her throat as that same finger impaled her and her body arched for more. “Oh, lord, Eli.”

  “What Mrs. Grayson?” he asked heatedly. “Having fun?”

  His wicked ministrations made her part her legs scandalously. “Yes.” The night breeze played over her nipples, which were now hard and damp from his loving. No matter where her mind went, there was pleasure. Thought fled, though, as the magic increased and she began to croon and arch and moan. Then little death rose, rocking her, claiming her and when it broke, she turned her face into his chest to keep from screaming loud enough to be heard across the Grove.

  Eli’s second wish was to watch her in the throes of orgasm until death do they part. The sight of her riding out her pleasure so uninhibitedly made him as hard as the tree trunk his back was braced against, but he’d promised himself not to take her again until tomorrow and he’d keep the vow, even though his maleness hungered for relief.

  In the silent aftermath, Jewel was as boneless as a rag doll. No man had the right to be so masterful, but because Eli was, the woman she’d become smiled contentedly.

  Chapter 11

  The chirps of birds greeting the dawn roused Jewel from her sleep. Because of her barely awake state, her surroundings were at first unfamiliar, but Eli’s softly snoring in the bed beside her put everything into focus. What a day they’d had. Her body was stiff and tender from all the loving, and the memory of the scandalous interlude they’d shared in the moonlight made her cheeks burn. She wondered if all married couples had such a good time, but it was not a question she’d get an answer to, so she set it aside. More than anything she wanted to burrow back under the lightweight bedding and cuddle against Eli and return to sleep, but it was Monday morning, and morning meant chores. Easing herself quietly out of bed, she tiptoed over to her valise and picked it up. Looking over at her husband with regret, she slipped from the room and dressed in the hallway. She’d get a proper shower when she got home, but for now, she needed to hurry if she wanted to get to the house and cook breakfast for the boys before they headed to work.

  A little after dawn, Eli slowly awakened. Smiling sleepily at the memory of Jewel falling asleep in his arms, he reached out to ease her warm little body closer but she wasn’t there. Thinking she was probably up tackling the clutter, he drifted back into sleep. Thirty minutes later he awakened again and this time sat up and dragged himself out of bed. He’d never been an early riser, but to make love to his wife, he’d get up at dawn.

  But she wasn’t there—not in the front room, not in the shower, not anywhere in the house or
on the grounds. He pondered that for a moment wondering if yesterday had been a dream, but his remembrances of watching her taking her pleasure in the moonlight made him as hard now as he’d been last night; it had to have been real. “So where the hell is she?” he asked out loud.

  It came to him then where she might be. Tight-lipped he went to wash up and get dressed.

  She was where he knew she’d be, in the kitchen of her brothers’ home. Apparently they’d already left for the day because when he walked into the house the place was otherwise empty.

  At his entrance, she looked up from the dishes she was washing and called merrily, “Mornin’, Eli. Sleep well?”

  “I did until I woke up and found my wife gone.”

  Jewel studied his features in an attempt to gauge his mood. “I came over to cook breakfast.”

  “So I see.”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Maybe.”

  Because she had no idea what this was about she raised her chin. “And it is?”

  Paul walked in. “The problem is, you don’t live here anymore little sister.”

  She turned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Jewel, you’re Eli’s wife now. You should be cooking breakfast for him.”

  “I didn’t notice you complaining about me being here when you were helping yourself to fresh biscuits earlier, and besides, he doesn’t have a stove.”

  Paul hid his smile, “That isn’t the point.”

  She glanced over at Eli and found him watching her with amusement. “How am I supposed to cook you breakfast when you have nothing to cook on?”

  “As your brother said, Mrs. Grayson, that isn’t the point.” Eli admitted to being somewhat jealous of the bond she had with her brothers. He’d wanted her to wake up in his arms, not eschew him in favor of frying up a bunch of eggs. Eyes still trained on his beautiful wife, he said to his brother-in-law. “Do me a favor and hire a housekeeper.”

  “Already looking into one.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jewel was trying to decide if she was mad or not. She’d cooked breakfast there every morning for at least a decade. How was she supposed to know that being married changed things.

  Paul grabbed one of the last aforementioned biscuits from the plate on the stove. “Now that that’s settled, I’ll leave you two alone. We’ll be over at the bluff building your house if you need us.”

  “Thanks, Paul,” Eli said.

  “My pleasure. Bye, Jewel.”

  She gave him an exasperated look that he of course ignored, then he and his half-eaten biscuit left the house.

  In the silence that filled the kitchen after his departure Jewel didn’t know what to say. For the moment, she concentrated on putting the remaining washed and dried dishes back into the cabinets. “If you want an apology there won’t be one. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  A grin played around the corners of his mouth. “No, you didn’t, and I’ll admit to not being happy that you chose bacon and eggs over me.”

  She looked his way and confessed truthfully, “I wanted to remain in bed with you, Eli, but this is what I do every morning—cook breakfast.”

  He walked over to where she stood and draped his arms around her waist. “I know, sweetheart. I’m just a man with a bruised ego.”

  “That wasn’t my intent.”

  “I know that, too.”

  He kissed her softly, “Good morning, Mrs. Grayson.”

  Jewel kissed him back just as softly, and when the contact broke, she wrapped her arms around him tightly and laid her head on his chest. “Apparently there are a lot of things I don’t know about being Mrs. Grayson.”

  He kissed her hair. “That’s okay, because there are a lot of things I don’t know about being a husband.”

  “You did pretty good last night,” and heard the rumble of amusement against her ear.

  “You think so?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Good.”

  He leaned back and looked into the face of the woman he wanted to awaken with for the rest of his days. “Your brothers are lucky to have someone as loyal as you looking after them.”

  “I agree.”

  “Modest, too, I see.”

  She shrugged. “Can’t argue with the truth.”

  “Are you done here?” he asked, indicating her kitchen duties.

  She nodded.

  “Then let’s go home.”

  “But what about the laundry and supper and my garden?”

  Eli chuckled in the face of her dedication. “Jewel, didn’t your brother say he was looking into a housekeeper?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t say he’d hired one.”

  “Your brothers are big boys. I’m sure they can take care of themselves until then.”

  “And in the meantime, we eat where?”

  He paused. “Well?”

  She waited.

  He replied finally, “There’s mother’s, and then there’s Miss Edna’s and the Quilt Ladies’.”

  She stared confused. “Is that where you eat your meals?”

  He nodded. “They feed me like the stray that I am.”

  Grinning, she looked up at her oh-so-charming husband. “I am not a stray and since I am perfectly capable of providing meals for the both of us, how about we eat here until the house is built? Better yet, you’re a wealthy man. Let’s buy a stove.”

  Eli smiled. “A stove.”

  “Yes, a stove. You know, you cook on it.”

  He mockingly warned, “Keep sassin’ me and you’ll find yourself with your denims down and screaming my name on top of that table over there.”

  She looked so surprised, he barked a laugh, then told her, “Better yet, let’s go to Niles and buy a table. That way you can scream as loud as you like.”

  Her nipples tightened as if they couldn’t wait for his kisses. “You are so outrageous!”

  “Yep. Do you want to go to Niles or not?”

  She couldn’t suppress her laughter. “No.”

  “No?” he asked as he ran a slow finger down the vee of skin framed by the open collar of her shirt. Her pulse rippled in response. He pressed his lips to the spot just long enough to make her feel as if she were drowning, then backed away, saying, “I promise it will be worth the trip.”

  The blaze in his eyes and the soft heat in his voice were her downfall. “Let me get my handbag.”

  For the next week, Jewel spent the daylight hours cleaning up Eli’s cabin, and her nights making love. Finally, the house was clean enough to bring in the table they’d purchased in Niles, and just as he’d promised her, the end result was well worth the trip.

  Wearing her widow’s weeds, Cecile stood on the platform of the Detroit train depot, trying to pick out her next pigeon. She had no idea if Pinkertons were on her tail, but it had been almost three weeks since she’d left Bethany Briles lying in a pool of her own blood, so she assumed there were.

  Now she was out of money, and without the assistance of a benefactor, further flight could become problematic. The depot wasn’t very crowded for a weekday. She assumed most were waiting for the afternoon train to Chicago. From beneath the black curtain of her veil, she kept her eyes low as she pondered which of the men standing on the platform might become her next knight. She settled on two likely candidates. Both men were traveling alone, but there was an obvious difference in their social stations. The younger man’s cheap clothing and gregarious manner all but shouted small town, while the fashionably dressed older man with well-kept muttonchops appeared to have a fatter wallet.

  Having lived by her wits for many years, she’d learned that men both young and old were susceptible to a woman in distress. The older types were more inclined to buy her a train ticket and sometimes provide her a meal as well, but the younger ones often wanted to raise her skirts in exchange. Cecile had no desire to be pawed by a penniless bumpkin, so she stepped out from under the depot’s wooden awning and peered down the track, as if looking for the t
rain. Seeing nothing, she edged back into the crowd.

  The change in her position placed her close enough to muttonchops to begin her act. Nodding at him politely and receiving a silent nod in response, she opened her handbag and began to look through it. A few seconds later the search began more frantic. Her shrouded face filled with alarm, she knelt and dumped the contents of the handbag out onto the depot floor.

  Sensing she had his full attention, she began sifting through the papers and ticket stubs. Quickly getting to her feet, she hastily patted the pockets of her skirt, then dropped her shoulders in a sign of weak resignation.

  Right on cue, he asked, “Is there something wrong?”

  She knelt and slowly stuffed the contents of her handbag back inside it. “My ticket and coin purse appear to be missing.”

  The concern on his face almost made her smile beneath the veil. “I know I had them both when I left Philadelphia. What am I going to do?”

  He said nothing for a moment, and she could see him visually evaluating her. He asked, “Is there someone you can wire for more funds—a family member perhaps?”

  She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. I am all I have.”

  “Where are you heading?”

  “A small town called Grayson Grove.”

  His face brightened. “Why, that’s where I’m headed as well.”

  “Really?” Cecile stilled, not sure if he was a good choice now or not. “That’s quite a coincidence. Do you reside there?”

  “Not at the moment, but I may in the future. May I ask your name, widow?”

  “Cecile Green. My husband died a few weeks back. I lived in the Grove many years ago and I thought I’d visit with a few old friends on my way south to evaluate some property my husband owned down there, but now, with no ticket or funds, I may be forced to stay here until I can figure out what I should do.”

  “Let me assist you. My name is George Washington Hicks. I’d be honored to buy you a new ticket.”

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to impose. You don’t know me.”

  “No, but I do know that it is my duty to help a woman in distress. You are grieving the passing of your husband. It shouldn’t be made more difficult by being stranded here with no funds.”