by Jodi Thomas
He watched Nina show Web how to play with the cats instead of pulling their tails. The boy loved it when he dragged a string across the floor and one of the cats followed.
While they played, Sam pulled the coffee from the bottom of his pack. “I’ll come by as soon as the snow clears.”
“I know you’ll come by when you can. You’ve been pestering me for years, and now you’ve bred I guess another generation will be pestering me for years to come. I just want you to know, I plan to live to be a hundred, so it might be a good idea if you produce a few more kids. Redheaded ones would be easy to spot.”
Sam grinned. “She’s only visiting.” He swore he could read the old woman’s thoughts in her eyes. “And I’m not taking her to my bed.” In polite society he guessed what he’d just said would be scandalous, but the old woman just cackled.
Nina helped him load Web back into the pack, then she handed him a bundle of clean clothes for the boy. He thanked her even though he knew, like everything between them, it was just a trade.
He climbed on his horse, suddenly in a hurry to be home. The snow was falling hard now, and if he hadn’t known the path to his place he would have never found it. Within minutes the snow would dust away his hoofprints. No one would be able to follow him through the rocks and trees. If someone was waiting for him to return to the pasture so they could follow him home, they’d be waiting a long time. For tonight and maybe tomorrow Sam knew they’d be safe.
Once he was home he took care of his horse and sat Web in his swing while he tried to shave in the icy water of the barn. He nicked himself a half dozen times, but finally stared at his face, reflected in water, for the first time in months. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at himself, but the man looking back seemed harder than he remembered. Maybe he was like Maggie, turning to stone as he aged.
Lifting Web, Sam asked, “How do I look?”
The baby patted his face, laughing.
“I know. You like the beard. I’ll grow it back.”
He cuddled Web close as he ran for the house. When he barreled through the back door, the warmth washed over him like a welcoming wave.
“Don’t forget to wipe your feet,” Maggie called as if it were something she thought she should say. She was standing in front of the stove stirring a pot. A few strands of her dark red hair had broken free of the leather band.
Sam lowered Web and turned to pull off his coat and hat. When he turned back she knelt a few feet away, busily pulling the boy’s coat off and paying little attention to her almost husband.
When she finally looked up he saw the surprise in her face. “You shaved.”
He shrugged. “I did a lousy job.”
She moved to him, touching his face almost as Web had. Without much thought, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground in a hug. “Oh, my,” she said when he sat her back down.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked when she just stood still in front of him.
“No,” she managed to say. “I’m just not used to being lifted off the ground.”
“I thought that was what a pretend husband might do, but if you’re not comfortable with it . . .”
“No. I didn’t say that.” She moved away. “Lunch is ready.”
He grinned. She didn’t mind him touching her, but she didn’t know how to react. He could deal with that.
They ate the best soup he’d ever tasted. Once he stopped staring at her every move, he noticed a few changes in the kitchen. Things had been rearranged, some put on lower shelves so she could reach them, and a green and blue scarf was spread over the table. It was far too small to cover the length, but it looked good.
They ate in silence, both talking to the baby from time to time. As soon as he finished, Sam bundled Web up and took him to the outhouse. By the time they returned, she’d done the dishes.
Sam took the boy to the blue blanket resting on the hearth in the main room. They spread it out close to the warmth and Web curled around an old baby blanket. He was asleep within a few minutes to Sam’s low voice telling him what a fine boy he was.
When Sam walked back to the kitchen, Maggie had the medical kit down and was prepared. He knew, much as he hated it, he’d have to let her change the bandage. She didn’t seem to believe that wounds healed on their own.
“It’s time.”
He unbuttoned his heavy wool work shirt and pulled off his undershirt, which was stained with blood. She stared at him as if she’d never seen a man undressed from the waist up.
He’d never felt so naked in his life as he realized that she might not have ever seen so much of a male.
When she didn’t move as he crossed the kitchen and sat down in the chair, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Your chest is so hairy,” she managed to say, as if she was looking at a freak show. “I didn’t notice last night because of all the blood.”
“I’m not shaving it.” He smiled and she smiled back. “Still want to change the bandage?”
She went to work talking nonstop about the class she’d taken once in school. He had no idea why he needed to know all the details about a first aid class in some all-girls school, but he liked the sound of her voice. Finally, he decided she was nervous and somehow talking helped.
Blood had dried in spots, making the dressing hard to peel away, but he gave her credit for being gentle. Both holes had started scabbing over and he doubted there would be any more bleeding. He joked that he did more damage to himself shaving than the bullet did. She didn’t laugh.
When she finished, he told her she’d done a fine job. She brushed her hand over the bandages, then looked away.
“Look at me, Maggie.”
Slowly she met his gaze.
“Don’t touch the bandage, touch me.” Sam held his breath waiting. If he didn’t tell her what he wanted, she might never figure it out.
She didn’t look away as she raised her hand and brushed her fingers along the top of his shoulder to where the bandage ended and his throat began. She ran her fingers along his neck and he felt his muscles tightening to her touch.
With a sudden jerk, he circled his arm around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap. She was stiff, as if made of ice, but she didn’t pull away. “What’s wrong?” He thought of setting her back on her feet and pretending he’d never grabbed her.
“Nothing,” she started, then gulped down a breath and said, “I don’t like to be startled. If you plan to hug me or grab me, I would like to know in advance. I don’t like surprises.”
“Maggie, I don’t want to talk you into anything, or bully you or force you. If you don’t want this, we can go back to being little more than polite strangers. If you’d rather I didn’t touch you, I give you my word I never will again.” He figured he’d have to break both arms to keep that promise for a week, but he’d keep his word.
She stared at her hands and he felt like a fool for moving too fast. He should have been happy just to hug her good night or maybe hold her hand. He shouldn’t have grabbed her in a bear hug or pulled her onto his lap. He’d been around people so little he didn’t know how to act, and he’d never even tried to court.
Maybe the Thompsons hadn’t run the bears off; maybe they’d married them all into the family. That would explain his hairy chest and his lack of manners.
He covered her hands with one of his. “I don’t know how to do this. I never remember playing at anything as a child and I’ve never even thought about courting a woman. All I know is I want you near.”
She looked up. “This near?”
He smiled. “This near is a start.”
“All right, I’ll stay this near while we talk.”
He nodded, thinking he’d pretty much agree to anything if she’d stay right where she was.
She took a deep breath and started, “Tell me about your wife. Do you miss her dearly? Did you remove everything about her from the house to help with the pain of her loss? Did you love her deeply?”
&n
bsp; Sam wished he could have made up something about a great love affair, but he’d lived an honest life and couldn’t lie now. Even though he thought he might lose Maggie, he told her the truth. The whole truth about what Danni looked like when she arrived all bloody and broken. About how she never wanted him near even though with time he didn’t think she was afraid of him. He told Maggie why he married her and how she never ate a meal with him or spoke to him unless he asked her a direct question. Sam even told her of Danni coming to his bed and how he understood she didn’t want to be touched any more than necessary to breed.
“I’m not sure why, but she wanted a child and so did I. The mating never took more than a few minutes, and she was gone as soon as it was over. Maybe she wanted a child who’d love her.”
“Did you love her?” Maggie rested her hand on his shoulder.
“No,” he admitted. “I cared for her. I tried to be thoughtful and kind, but I never loved her. She was like a shadow moving in the house. She was broken inside and I didn’t know how to help her. I don’t think if we’d lived together a lifetime she’d ever have wanted me around. Not once did I touch her except to mate.”
He sat in the kitchen a long time holding Maggie and remembering his wife for the first time in a long while. She’d come to him with nothing. He’d bought her a few dresses, but she only wore them when others wore out. He remembered coming back to the house after he’d dropped Web off at Nina’s cabin. The midwife was loading up her things when he rode up. She told him his wife’s family had come and taken the body and they’d sworn to kill him if he tried to follow.
Sam remembered walking back in the house thinking it didn’t matter where she was now, no one could hurt her anymore. The bloody sheets were still on the bed, but nothing remained of her. It was almost as if they’d taken not only her few clothes, but also the footprints where she’d walked. It was as if she’d never been there.
He held Maggie a little tighter in his arms. He didn’t want that happening when she left. He wanted to know she’d been there with him, if only for a few days. He wanted his house, his world, changed. Even if all he’d have left in a week were memories of Maggie, he wanted them.
“Maggie,” he whispered as he brushed a strand of her hair away.
“Yes,” she answered as if she too had been deep in thought.
“I don’t want to startle you, but if you’ve no objection I thought I might try kissing you again.” He didn’t wait for her answer. Her slightly parted lips were all the invitation he needed.
He pressed his mouth over hers and felt her make a little sound against his lips. Moving his hand up her throat, he turned her head to just the right angle and tasted her lips. He felt her shudder like a frightened bird, but she didn’t turn away from his kiss. When he heard her make a sound again, he slid his tongue between her open lips and tasted her.
Surprise rocked her body, but he held her to him and continued the kiss. Slowly, an inch at a time, she began to melt in his arms and the kiss turned to magic. He was learning. When he tried something new, a moment later she tried it also. He cradled her against him, hungry for more. She was hesitant, sometimes shy, but she didn’t move away. She remained in his arms, letting him kiss her completely.
When he finally lifted his head and looked down at her, her cheeks were warmed with inner fire and her eyes sparkled like stars. He didn’t try to stop her as she stood and turned away from him.
She walked to the window and stood, her hand spread flat against the cold glass.
He decided maybe she needed some time. “I have to go check the barn. I’ll be back before Web wakes up.”
Her nod was so slight he wasn’t sure she’d heard him.
He grabbed his coat and walked out still pulling it on. In an hour he’d be back apologizing or kissing her again, but right now if he didn’t put some distance between them, he’d be kissing her again.
Chapter 9
Maggie stood in the kitchen for a long while after Sam left. When she’d thought of playing like they were married she’d guessed there would be long talks over dinner and maybe enduring embraces good night. She’d never dreamed there would be kisses. Not just kisses, but one long kiss that shattered all she knew of kissing. One kiss that curled her toes and made her body feel like it was on fire.
Touching her lips, she could almost feel the way his mouth had covered hers. He’d held her close while she was falling as if to say he was there for her. This was nothing like what she thought the game would be between them . . . this was more. She’d wanted a tiny twinkling star moment to remember, and he’d offered her the universe.
The only remaining question seemed to be if she would be brave enough to accept his offer, and Maggie knew deep down in her soul that she’d never been brave.
Web was awake when Sam returned. He carried in wood and stoked the fire while she held the boy, then Sam sat him beneath his workbench as he started work. “I want to catch the last few hours of light,” he said without looking at her.
Maggie felt in the way, so she went to the kitchen and decided to make bread. She had to do something besides stand around all day dreaming of one kiss. Sam would think she had only air for brains.
An hour later when she had the bread baking, she stood in the doorway and watched father and son. Both looked like they were doing the same thing, playing with leather straps, only Web’s were just scraps and Sam’s were blending into a harness.
She’d bought enough harnesses to know fine work. “Do you sell these?”
“A few, now and then. I take the train into Fort Worth every spring to sell horses. I’ve got a man near the livery who buys all these I have time to make.”
“You wouldn’t have to go all the way to Fort Worth. You could sell them in town.” She bit her lip to keep from adding in my store. If he sold them to her, it would mean they would be talking on a regular basis even after this crisis was over. She could even imagine him coming in late with orders and her offering him supper before he had to head home.
He shattered her daydream by saying, “Don’t want to sell them around here. I prefer to take them to people who don’t know me.”
She moved closer. “Afraid they might come looking for you when one of them breaks?”
“No. Afraid they might come looking for me to buy another one. I’d just as soon not have the grassland worn to my door.”
“I understand. It’s fine work, Sam.”
“Not much else to do on a day like this. Snow’s up to my knees. It’ll be three feet deep by morning. Looks like we’re going to have a white Christmas for sure.”
Web caught her skirt and tugged as if wanting her to join him in his cage. Maggie laughed and held out her hands. “Come here, boy, and I’ll let you taste the first slice of bread that’s cooling.” She glanced up at Sam, remembering the game they were playing, and added, “Come to your mama.”
Webster came right to her and she laughed, thinking how good it felt to hold a child. A hundred times over this past year, she’d seen babies in the store and wanted to lift them up into her arms, but the few times she had she’d seen that sad look in the parent’s eyes and known they were feeling sorry for her. To them she was always a woman without children, without a husband, without family.
Now, for a few days, she could hold Webster as if he were hers and no one would look at her with pity. Kissing his cheek, she took him into the kitchen and sat him at the table out of the reach of the warm bread and butter. He played with a spoon as she began slicing the bread.
Thirty minutes later Web was laughing as she tried to get butter out of his hair. She looked up and saw Sam in the doorway watching. “I had to come see what all the racket was about,” he said.
“We’re having a bread-and-butter tea.” She giggled. “Without the tea.”
Sam smiled at his son as he fought to keep Maggie from getting him clean.
“It’s hopeless,” she announced and brushed his hair in place before setting him down among his bl
ocks. “He keeps using his two front teeth to scrape the butter off my bread.”
Sam came near and knelt beside his son, handing him blocks one by one. His voice came easy to the boy, but when he looked up at her, the smile faded. “I saw tracks near my fence line this morning.”
“Maybe someone is just passing,” she said, trying to stay calm. Nothing had happened all day and she was starting to believe she was safe. The nightmare at her store seemed far removed from her.
He shook his head. “They headed out into nowhere. I’ve never seen a rider travel that direction. Whoever it was had to be riding the fence hoping to spot my place.”
She cut slice after slice of bread as if needing to keep her hands busy. “Who do you think it is?”
Sam shrugged. “Might be Boss Adler, but I doubt it. He doesn’t know where you went, and even if he recognized me, he’d only know I lived in the canyon. I doubt any of my kin would tell him which place is mine even if he got close enough to their farms to ask.”
“Or it might be Danni’s father, Dolton.” Maggie tried to think. “You said he hated you and blamed you for his daughter’s death. Maybe he or one of his two sons decided to even the score.”
“No. If he got drunk enough to do something about it, he’d just cut the fence and come after me. He knows where I am.” Sam moved closer to her and helped himself to a slice of warm bread. “I heard his older boy, a horse of a man, got cut up pretty bad in a knife fight a few months back, and the younger one couldn’t be more than sixteen.” Sam thought, then added, “I doubt he’s grown to his full meanness yet. One of my cousins told me the oldest boy is always getting in trouble for beating up the whores.”
“Are you serious? If a man did that, wouldn’t the law arrest him?”