A Place Called Home

by Elizabeth Grayson

  Reid didn't answer. He didn't have to. He just smiled and picked up the basket they'd pressed into service as a cradle at the fort earlier that day. Before he left, Reid bent and kissed Livi long and slowly. He kissed her with a sweet, simmering intensity that made her head swim and her bones dissolve.

  Oh, my, she thought when he was gone. Oh, my!

  She took her time getting ready. She finished with the baby, stripped off her clothes and washed herself, using her last precious bar of scented soap and the cold, clear water from the drinking bucket. She shivered as the droplets trailed over her breasts and belly and down her thighs. She followed them slowly, mopping with a length of cotton cloth, wondering what Reid would see when he looked at her.

  She wasn't the slender girl she'd been when David had initiated her to the rites of loving and being loved. This body was soft and broad from carrying babies, full and heavy from nursing them. If any man alive knew that, it was Reid. Still, she wanted to be beautiful for him.

  She brushed her hair until it shone. She let it fall thick and straight to the curve of her waist. She took out the nightdress David had had made for her as a gift. It was soft as down, filmy lawn and trimmed with lace. She held it in her hands and remembered all the times she had worn it, all the lovemaking just wearing it had sparked between David and her.

  Then she put the gown away. This wasn't about David anymore.

  This was about Reid. This was about a man who had loved David as much as she had loved him. But it was also about a man who would never be content to live in David's shadow.

  She slipped on another nightdress, threw her battered green cloak around her shoulders, and picked up her child. It took her only a moment to tiptoe across the breezeway, only a moment for Reid to open the door.

  His cabin glowed with candles. The fire was built up bright. Reid had set the basket on the writing table, well away from any drafts that might creep across the floor, and padded it with milk-white rabbit skins. She laid the baby down inside. He grumbled as she settled him in, but before she could tuck a blanket around him, Little David was already asleep.

  Then she turned to Reid. From across the room she could see the tempest in his eyes. He was as aware as she of what they'd been to each other, of what they could be to each other tonight. He knew as well as she all the things that would change if they came together.

  He moved nearer anyway.

  She felt the slow, sensual melody in his movements as he approached, the shift of his shoulders, the grace of his stride. Just watching him, Livi felt her body warm and bud in ways she had nearly forgotten.

  He stopped before her, blatantly, potently male. Tall and strong and powerful. She couldn't seem to raise her gaze from where his shirt lay open, revealing the smooth, dusky hollow at the base of his throat. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes from the pulse that tripped just beneath the turn of his jaw.

  He breached the slight distance between them, loosing her cloak's dangling ties. He drew it from around her shoulders and reached to hang it on a peg.

  He was standing so close, Livi could feel his heat penetrate the fabric of her nightdress, reverberate against her chest and thighs. He lifted one hand to her cheek, feathered his knuckles along her jaw, and raised her face to his.

  He was possessed of a harsh and stirring beauty—an angular face; a strong, straight nose; clear, bright eyes beneath heavy, angled brows; a firm but mobile mouth.

  "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, offering her one last chance to change her mind.

  Livi met his question with one of her own. "Do you think I'd be here if I wasn't sure?"

  He didn't challenge her answer. He just reached for her. He slid his palms along her ribs, spread his hands against her back. She felt as fragile as eggshells within his grasp, delicate and breakable. With only the slight, insistent pressure of his fingertips, he gathered her closer. Their thighs brushed. Their hips aligned. Her breasts nestled against the broad, unyielding wall of his chest. They stood barely breathing.

  "I always thought you were the most exotic woman I'd ever seen," he said, surprising her. "Such glorious hair. Such pale, pale skin. Such a delicious, tempting mouth..."

  She had never expected Reid to speak to her like this, never imagined there was anything like poetry inside him. The discovery sent delight spinning through her. Laughter bubbled up her throat.

  Reid smiled in answer and lowered his head. She saw his lips part in anticipation as he closed the distance between them, felt the sweet, heated mingling of their breath. He took possession of her mouth, claiming and savoring, desirous and tender. The kiss pooled between them, lush and rich with promise.

  She stretched up along the length of his body, fitting her breasts and belly more fully against him. She raised her hands to encircle his neck and encountered the queue he had affected to meet the more formal demands of the day. With a flick of her wrist, she pulled the carefully tied ribbon free. The thick black silk of his hair spilled forward, spreading against the white of his collar and tumbling dark against his back.

  It skimmed across his cheeks and brushed her jaw as he bent to deepen his slow, deliberate exploration of her mouth. His tongue glided along the widening O, tracing the delicate upper bow, the sinuous flare of her lower lip. He delved beyond the margin, tasting the soft inner corners, the pillowy softness inside.

  Livi met the tip of his tongue with her own, learning his texture and his flavor, the essence that made him Reid. Bound together with nothing more than the contact of their mouths and the warmth of his hands against her back, they played the age-old games, touching and tasting and teasing, withdrawing and giving back. It stirred the restlessness in both of them, the questing and answering, the provocation and response.

  Livi was quivering when Reid finally raised his head, and she could see that he was every bit as affected by the kisses as she. His face was flushed and he was breathing in staccato bursts. He looked down at her, and she recognized the wild, reckless hunger in his eyes.

  Somehow she had known he would be like this when he made love, focused, intent, and so vital that when a woman took him inside her, he would fill her with his energy, his strength. It should have frightened Livi to offer herself to such a man, to fly so close to the sun. Instead it lit some answering passion in her, some compelling need to take all that he could give her. And offer him more.

  She reached up and touched his face, letting her palm conform to the shape of his chin and cheek and jaw. He turned his head, pressed a kiss into her open hand, and traced a spiral with the tip of his tongue.

  Livi gasped at the tingling that wound up her arm. Her knees melted beneath her and, without a word, he swept her up in his arms and carried her to his bed.

  He laid her gently atop the woven counterpane and followed her down.

  "Livi," he breathed and nibbled his way deliberately from the curve of her temple to the corner of her mouth. He drizzled slow, sweet kisses down her throat, lingering in the hollow above her collarbone.

  He raised his hand to cup her breast, circled the tight, engorged nipple with his thumb. Fierce, sharp pleasure coiled up the midline of her body. She cried out in surprise and delight.

  "Livi?" Reid froze above her. "Have I hurt you, Livi?"

  She shook her head, incapable of forming the simple word that would reassure him.

  "If I've hurt you, we will stop."

  "No," she breathed. "No, I don't want you to stop. I want you to touch me and kiss me..."

  She curled her fingers into the front of his shirt and pulled him down. She raised her chin to fit the flare of her lips to his.

  He moaned and gathered her up in his arms. He sheltered her with the bulk of his body, tangled his hands in the shimmering mass of her hair, kissed her as if he never meant to stop. And as he did, his palms smoothed down the length of her back, molded her hips to his. Sliding his fingers beneath the hem of her gown he traced slow, tickly patterns up the backs of her thighs.

  She t
ouched him, too, gliding her hands beneath the hem of his shirt, tugging it up over his head. His body was lean and hard and well formed, but marked. A straight, livid line ran the length of his chest. Two more lines transected it. He was marked with scars, one red and still healing. Some white and faded with the passage of time. How was it he could be marked by the remnants of so many hurts?

  Livi mewed with concern and would have demanded explanations if he had not silenced her with long, sultry kisses, kisses that left her head spinning and her body taut.

  She was trembling and feverish when he raised his mouth from hers. "Oh, Reid, please!" she whispered.

  He stripped back the covers and laid her down on the chilly sheets. He divested himself of his clothes while she lay waiting. He came to her then, sliding up along her body, lifting her nightdress as he went, staining her flesh with his heat.

  Her hands moved over him, the yoke of his shoulders, the rise of his ribs, the hard taut belly. Her fingers curled around his shaft. She felt the pulse of life in him. Of power. Of pleasure—both his and her own.

  He moaned and rolled over her, his fingers stroking to prepare the way. He touched her, lifting her on a swell of sensation, sending ripples rushing along her limbs. He petted her, circling and pressing, inciting sweet chaos in her blood. She shivered with each brush of his hands. Her breasts were full and heavy with delight, her belly abuzz with anticipation, the core of her wet and yearning for him.

  He made her his. His fierce, focused energy flowed into her, compelling and vital. He held her still, kissing her long and slowly, claiming and seducing and devouring.

  She shifted beneath him, wanting more, wanting everything. She raised her hips and he sank deep, into the age-old rhythm of joining, into the life-affirming drive for mutual pleasure. He tangled his fingers in her hair and drew her to him. The hunger she saw in his eyes beckoned her to take all he had to give.

  The pleasure rose in her, the ecstasy eclipsing everything but the man with whose body she was joined. She called his name as she climaxed, needing him to follow her.

  He came, and she watched as he lost himself in her sweetness and in her eyes. His power and his energy coursed alive in her, filling her body with his seed, filling her soul with indescribable joy, filling her world with unimagined promise.

  He bound her to him as if she were his prize, something wondrous and special, meant only for him. He held her tight, as if he were afraid that once the loving had passed, she would slip away. His heartbeat jolted against her, tripping even faster and more erratically than her own.

  At last he buried his face against her throat and slowly let out his breath, then contoured his long, dark body to shelter hers.

  She stroked his shoulder, the length of his back. He mumbled a string of sleepy endearments as his breathing deepened.

  She hadn't known that this was how it would be between them. She had expected the intensity, but not the tenderness. She had anticipated the pleasure, but not the communion.

  Anne Logan had spoken of a marriage between Reid and her, and Livi found herself wondering what that would be like. Different from anything she had ever known. Different from how it had been with David—just as this was different.

  But Livi didn't want marriage now. If they spoke of marriage, there would be the question of the land between them. Of David. Of how the future would work out.

  She didn't want anything to come between Reid and her and this wondrous thing they had discovered together. She lay feeling the fan of Reid's breath against her throat, the warmth of his body against her side, the possessive curl of his arm around her. And in the quiet, candlelit cabin, Livi smiled.

  Chapter 20

  Livi came to recognize Reid's smile. Reid's special smile. She came to recognize it not because she had seen it before, but because she had never seen it—not until he brought in an armload of wood from the woodpile the morning after they'd made love. It was a curled-up-at-one-corner smile, a cocky smile, a contented smile, a smile of security and belonging. To know that she was the one to make Reid smile that way filled Livi's heart to overflowing.

  She saw that smile often in the following weeks. She came to recognize its smoldering intensity, feel its mesmerizing pull. She came to know that once the children were asleep, Reid's smile would deepen and his eyes would gleam. He would draw her into his arms, hold her, and touch her, and kiss her until she could not breathe. He would strip away her bodice and petticoats, and whisper that she was beautiful. He would stroke her in ways that made her writhe, press her back across the bed, and make himself a part of her.

  As she shuddered beneath him in the depths of delight, she would see his smile change to one of deepest satisfaction, of strong and enduring passion. Behind it she could see the longing he could never admit, the emotions he didn't know how to express. She could see them glow in his eyes, hear them rasp in his voice, taste them in his kisses. She could absorb them through her skin as they lay as close as a man and woman could be. But Livi was not willing to give those feelings a name. His smile was all she would acknowledge, though she had to admit that she was smiling, too.

  As the storms blew in from the west, as the wind whistled around the corners of the cabin and the snow piled up in drifts, the pace of life in the valley slowed. There would always be wood to cut and animals to tend. There would always be meals to fix and sewing to do. Yet winter was a quiet time, and Livi was glad for the respite.

  Reid and Tad hunted, though game was scarce. Livi sewed until her eyes watered and her vision blurred. She shelled corn from her crop until the pads of her thumbs were raw and sore. Cissy mastered her letters and her numbers and read aloud as her mother worked. Tad struggled to stay ahead of his sister's accomplishments, though the book learning didn't come easily to him. That Reid, for all his adventures, was a lettered man gave the boy encouragement.

  They all gathered at dusk for their evening meal, hominy and ham from the pig Reid had butchered in the fall, feather-light corn bread and rabbit stew, persimmons and walnuts Livi and Cissy had found in the woods. As often as not, Eustace came down from his cabin to join them. He sat silent for the most part, still struggling to make peace with losing Violet.

  It was Cissy's reading and the child's willingness to "show him his letters" that seemed to spark new life in the black man's eyes. Livi took over teaching him, and in the long, cold spell after Christmas, they sat one night with rapt attention while Eustace read from the Bible for the very first time.

  When the weather broke toward the end of January, they all bundled themselves in scarves and cloaks and mittens and rode over to Logan's Station for supplies. The woods shimmered in the winter sun, the lacy underpinnings of snow at the base of the trees, the icicles along the banks of the stream that added their drip, drip, drip to the water's flow. The air was crisp and delectable in their lungs, but they were shivering by the time they reached the gates to the fort.

  It took Anne Logan all of two minutes to realize what had happened between Livi and Reid, and another five to get Livi alone so she could gloat.

  "I knew the two of you were meant to be together," Anne all but crowed. "So when's the wedding?"

  Livi accepted the cup of tea Anne had brewed while the menfolk and the children were busy out and around the station. "I don't know that there's going to be a wedding. Reid hasn't asked me to marry him, and I'm not sure what I'd say if he did."

  Anne's face fell. "What do you mean, you're not sure what you'd say? Reid's a prime male specimen, isn't he? He cares for you and the children, and he's a good provider. He makes you happy, doesn't he, girl?"

  Oh, Reid did make her happy! Livi loved having him around. She loved the sound of his laughter as they sat by the fire in the evenings. Loved the way he took to the children, especially Little David. Loved the security he provided all of them when he was at the cabin. The loving between them had grown better each time they'd come together—the pleasure more intense, the communication between them stronger, the emot
ions deeper.

  "It's just that I'm not sure he'd be content," Livi hedged.

  "Can't you make him content?"

  Livi wasn't sure anything she did could make Reid content if he took it into his head to leave.

  "There's a wildness in him, Anne. A restlessness. A need to be free. How could I chain him to me by making vows, even if that's what he thought he wanted?"

  "Isn't it what he wants?"

  "I don't know what he wants," Livi admitted.

  Anne reached across and patted her hand. "Well, never you mind. You'll tame him, Livi-girl. With a bit of sugar and a bit of pepper and a lot of love."

  But Livi didn't want Reid tamed. She liked the wildness inside him, the restlessness, the energy. It made him different from David. It made him Reid. It spoke to the difference she was beginning to appreciate in herself.

  That night after they had returned to the cabin, a storm blew in, and as Livi lay beside Reid in his big bed, listening to the wind, she could not help wondering about the future. They had never discussed why Reid had stayed at the cabin for the winter when he'd usually be off trading in the west. He hadn't said anything about wanting her and the children to leave. She wondered what would happen in the spring when the road back to Virginia was clear again. Would Reid let them stay?

  She suspected that neither the serenity in his eyes nor the contentment in his smile would carry much weight when measured against the threat of Indian attacks and the struggle to make a life here. She also knew it was inevitable that he would leave. He was a trader, a wanderer, not a farmer. The life here at the cabin would not hold him indefinitely.

  Could she convince Reid she could make a life here on her own? Could she loosen his tether and let him fly free?

  Livi didn't want to risk their happiness by asking too many questions. Time would bring the answers. While she waited, Livi meant to savor every moment.