The Officer and the Traveler

by Rose Gordon

  “Roses or tulips?”

  “Tulips.”

  “Stockings or bare feet?”

  She hesitated. “Depends.”

  “I’ll accept that.” He continued gently stroking her arm, his touch searing her skin. “Blackberries or blueberries?”

  “Strawberries.”

  He nudged her thigh with his knee. “That wasn’t an option, Mrs. Montgomery.”

  “Blackberries,” she said, grimacing. She’d never know why, but she hated both of those berries.

  “Pie or cake.”

  “Cake.”

  “Then why do you make so many pies?”

  “Because you seem to like them.”

  “I’m sure I’d love your cake, too.”

  “Is it my turn to ask questions now?”

  “No. I have a few more.” He edged closer to her, if such a thing were possible. “Spiders or snakes?”

  She shuddered. “Neither and I mean it.”

  He chuckled. “Pick one.”

  “A spider. At least I can smash it.”

  His chest rumbled with another chuckle. “Horseback or carriage?”

  “Carriage,” she said without hesitancy.

  “Wes or Jack.”

  She dropped her jaw in half-feigned outrage and disbelief and twisted her neck and upper body around enough so she could see his handsome, grinning face. “I can’t answer that.”

  “Yes, you can,” he goaded.

  “Jack. He’s my brother-in-law.”

  “So you’d choose him by default,” he surmised, still grinning.

  No, I’d choose you, you fool. She started to turn back around but froze, both of their eyes dropping down to where Gray’s hand now rested on her arm with his entire palm pressing right against her breast. They’d both been so caught up in the moment and her reaction to his provoking answer neither had noticed the new position of their bodies when she twisted in his hold.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, flushing a violent crimson and moving his hand away.

  She turned back to the way she’d been sitting before, uncertain. His reaction had seemed a little extreme. “It was just an accident.”

  “I should have been more careful.” His hoarse words made her heart hurt and before she could convince herself to just let this awkward moment pass, she reached for both of his hands and placed them squarely on her full breasts.

  “Now you don’t have to be.” Her blood pounded loudly in her ears at her own bravery, mixing with the tingles that shot through her body from where his hands covered her swollen breasts. What had she just done? She dropped her hands, his frozen where she’d put them, a feather-light touch.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he explained, lowering his hands to her abdomen.

  “You weren’t.” A new sense of understanding came over her as a memory of that horrific night flashed in her mind. She closed her eyes and a newer memory took hold: their wedding night. He’d been very careful with her. He hadn’t asked her to take off her chemise nor had he touched her very much, especially not her breasts. In fact, it almost seemed as if he’d taken great care not to touch her there. She frowned. “Gray, do you not like breasts?”

  Gray developed an extreme coughing fit. “Of all the questions in the world to ask me, that’s the first one you chose?”

  Screwing up her determination, and sending up a silent prayer of thanksgiving her back was to him, she said, “I won’t tell anyone that you don’t, I just want to know.”

  “Michaela, I’ve never met a man who didn’t.”

  “So you do like them, you’re just afraid of hurting me,” she asked for confirmation.

  He sighed. “Can we speak of something else, please?”

  “No. You made me answer your questions, no matter how asinine, you can answer mine.”

  A moment passed. “You’re correct.”

  “You won’t hurt me, I promise,” she said, matching his low tone. She took a deep breath and moved his hands again. Had anyone ever told her she’d be placing Gray’s hands on her breasts, she’d have told them they were mad. “It’s all right. You’re not hurting me now.”

  The muscles in his arms tensed. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She resisted the urge to sigh in aggravation. “You’re not and you won’t as long as you’re gentle.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” he whispered, giving her a hesitant squeeze.

  She bit her lip to keep from sighing, this time in satisfaction at the way her traitorous body reacted to his touch. She shut her eyes and leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder, shamelessly offering him full access to do whatever he’d like with her breasts.

  His touch grew bolder, more daring as he molded and shaped her breasts through the fabric of her gown. Beneath his hands her breasts swelled and the tips hardened until she thought she might embarrass herself by bursting from her gown. Her breathing grew labored but she didn’t mind; Gray’s was just as heavy.

  “May I?” His words seemed almost strained. He gave the tie at the top of her gown a little pull.

  She swallowed and looked up into his blue-green eyes. They were a little darker than usual and very intent, the way she imagined hers to be as well. “Yes.”

  Gray slipped loose the knot in the bow that tied at the top of her gown, then moved to the buttons that went down her bodice. With a torturous slowness, he unbuttoned the first five of them. The pale blue fabric gaped, offering the world an unobstructed view of her lace-rimmed chemise.

  She held her breath in anticipation of Gray sliding his hands inside her gown, and was startled a little when he didn’t. His fingers gripped the fabric of her dress up at her shoulders and slid it down, uncovering her shoulders. When he’d moved the top of her gown down her arms to his satisfaction, he took hold of the straps of her chemise and lowered them, baring her breasts.

  She let out a nervous squeak and tried to at least pull her chemise back up. Maybe he was right and this wasn’t a good idea.

  “Nobody can see,” he said thickly in her ear. “I promise it’s just us out here.”

  That did little to comfort her. She opened her mouth to protest, but her breath was suddenly taken away when his large, tanned hands covered her breasts. His breathing became labored again and he bent his head to look over her shoulder to where his hands were caressing her. He squeezed them once more and moved to cup them, his thumb brushing her hardened nipples.

  She sucked in a breath and he froze.

  “Did I hurt you?” The ragged emotion in his voice would have made her melt in his arms if she hadn’t already.

  “No.”

  “You’ll tell me—” he took a hard swallow— “if I do?”

  She nodded and went back to letting him touch her, no longer caring what he might think of her when she reacted to him.

  A moment or two later his hands stopped their exploration and delicious torment and started making a slow path down her sides.

  “That night that we…did you?”

  She looked at him in confusion. She had absolutely no idea what he was speaking about.

  He swallowed audibly “I didn’t think so.”

  “Wh—” Her question turned into a sound of alarm when Gray wiggled out from behind her and eased her onto her back.

  “Relax,” he whispered, dropping a kiss near her ear.

  She tried to do as he’d said, but it was hard to relax when one was half-naked lying on the ground. Gray lay on his side next to her, staring shamelessly at her bare breasts. A measure of female pride shot through her that she could captivate him so.

  He propped his head up on his right hand, his elbow digging into the ground. His face looked tense, rigid. He reached forward with his free hand and trailed his fingertips from the side of her far breast, across the top, to the valley between them, then over the other before slowly inching his way day down her side.

  She cast him a curious look, but his head was turned down, looki
ng in the direction of her waist. His hand reached her hip and Gray scooted his whole body further down, his hand still moving lower. He paused and grabbed up two large fistfuls of her full skirts, pulling them off to the side and out of the way. Then his hand was on the inside of her calf. She tensed. “Gray?”

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said.

  She already knew that, what she wanted to know was what he was doing. Paying no mind to her curiosity, he glided his hand up her calf and to her thigh. “Gray,” she choked, closing her legs together.

  He stilled his hand and looked up at her with a hooded gaze. He let his eyes travel down to her breasts, a flash of desire flickering in them. Gray removed his hand from beneath her skirt and rearranged her skirts to where the hem came up to her mid-thigh. He urged her to spread her knees just a little then came to kneel between them like he had on their wedding night.

  An unnameable excitement came over her then. Did he intend to… Now? Here? She searched his face. He gave nothing away about his intentions.

  Then it happened. With a whinny from Sundance, his face began to change with a myriad of shadows crossing it. The intense look that had filled his eyes quickly faded to something she didn’t recognize with wide eyes and tight lips.

  She suddenly felt very cold and vulnerable and her hands sought to cover herself.

  Abruptly, Gray stood and turned his back to her. She sat up and scrambled to make herself decent, shame for her wanton behavior washing over her like waterfall.

  ***

  Gray could hardly catch his breath. What had he just done? They were outside where anyone could see them and he’d just made her vulnerable all for the sake of his own desires.

  He cast a glance over his shoulder to see if she was ready to return. She was. Good because when neither of them had been paying attention the sun had begun making its journey down the western sky.

  Gray offered her his best attempt at an apologetic smile and hoisted her up onto the Sundance’s back, unable to make eye contact with her.

  She, for her part, reached for the reins. “I’ll ride her. You can walk.”

  Stunned, he froze and tightened his hold on the reins. “Have you gotten past your fear of horses?”

  “No, but my fear of horses doesn’t compare with the—” She broke off and reached for the reins again.

  “No. I won’t have you getting yourself hurt because you’re angry with me.”

  Her pink cheeks turned red. “Give me the reins, Gray. I think it’s best if we don’t share a mount.”

  “I agree.” And he did. He needed to put as much distance between himself and her as he could and not having her in his lap seemed like a good place to start. “But I’m not going to let you endanger yourself. I’ll hold the reins and walk beside you.”

  Her jaw dropped, then she closed her mouth with an audible snap of her teeth and turned to face the other direction, her hands clenched into nervous fists in her lap.

  “Michaela.” He took a deep breath. It did nothing to calm the turmoil brewing inside of him. “I didn’t intend to upset you. I just looked down and—and—and—” Words failed him. “You don’t deserve that. I shouldn’t have let it go so far.”

  “So far?”

  He nodded, his mouth unable to form the right word. He looked over to the trees. “I should have listened to your protests about being outside. Instead, I kept pushing you and I’m sorry. I should have waited until we were alone in our room.”

  She turned her head to face him. “So you do intend to—” she dropped her voice to a whisper— “make love with me?”

  He felt his eyes flare wide and he was powerless to stop them. “No.” He swallowed uncomfortably past the lump in his throat, but she deserved an answer and he needed to give it to her. “I merely meant to offer you the same fulfillment I had.”

  Her face clouded with confusion.

  “On our wedding night, I found satisfaction and you didn’t. I wanted to give you the same experience.” The tips of his ears burned as he spoke those words, but it didn’t make them any less true.

  “So you did plan to bed me,” she said again.

  “No.” He raked his hand through his hair. Damn his guilt and morals, if he’d have just continued on they wouldn’t be having this conversation. “Both men and women are capable of finding satisfaction both through the act…or separately. My intention was to help you find yours without my breaking my earlier promise to you.” He forced himself to meet her gaze. “Nothing has changed. I cannot bed you.”

  Fire flashed in her emerald eyes. “I see and so to pass the time, you thought it was best to placate my wanton ways by—by—offering me one-sided pleasure?”

  “One-sided?” He scoffed. “That’s all it was on our wedding night, wasn’t it? I see nothing wrong with trying to even the score for you, but if you aren’t interested in what I can offer you—” he shrugged carelessly— “then who am I to care.”

  She pressed her lips into a thin line. “How would you know whether I was satisfied or not?”

  He assumed the sharpness of her words was a product of her embarrassment at his bitter words and almost apologized to her again. Almost.

  “I just know and you’ll have to trust me. If you’d reached fulfillment, you and I would both know it.”

  Her confused and peeved expression remained in place, accented by a fierce blush. “Perhaps I did and you were too caught up in your own needs to have noticed.”

  He deserved that. He’d been unnecessarily unkind to her after she’d responded to his unintended insinuation that she was a shameless wanton and all but proclaiming, yet again, that he didn’t love her. He did appreciate her, though, and had no reservations about showing her that she was appreciated. But love and appreciation were not the same thing.

  Without another word between them, they made their way back to the barracks, with Michaela sitting high atop Sundance’s back, clenching her hands as if she held some sort of invisible lifeline and Gray walking right beside them, holding the reins.

  When they reached the stables, the silence continued as Gray helped his wife dismount then put Sundance in her stall.

  Tension crackled between them as they walked back to their room. Words of apology ran through his head. But why should he apologize? He didn’t love her and he couldn’t change that. He didn’t know how long it would take or if it’d ever happen, but until it did, he wouldn’t go back on his word to her. He owed that to himself and most of all, her.

  All thoughts of apologies and honoring his word faded when he opened the door to their room and saw a piece of folded paper on the floor with a single word: GRAY.

  He didn’t recognize the handwriting and woodenly bent to pick up the paper. He unfolded it and his heart stood still.

  MEET ME IN THE SOUTHWEST BLOCKHOUSE AT 9:30 PM. I’LL BE WAITING. COME ALONE AND DON’T BE SEEN.

  Gray dropped the unsigned note, panic building in his chest. Jacobs. That’s the only person who could have written such a missive. He’d recognize the pen of anyone else who’d have reason to address him so informally. Furthermore, Jacobs had to have known Gray had been trying to talk to him as of late. But why did they have to meet in secret? The idea of being alone with the man made his skin prickle. For all he knew this could be some sort of ambush. Why, he didn’t know, but he didn’t like it.

  “Michaela, I think it might be a good idea if we go check on Mrs. Lewis and see if she needs some soup.”

  If she thought there was something odd about his statement, she didn’t say so.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Michaela was still smarting over the sting of their biting words toward each other when she arrived at the Lewises’.

  She was rather surprised to find Ella and Allison already there, tending to Aunt Lucille. Uncle George, she was informed, had quarantined himself off in his office to finish some paperwork.

  She didn’t think her help was needed, unfortunately her husband either didn’t notice or didn’t care
that others were already here tending to Aunt Lucille when he left just as quickly as he’d arrived.

  “Where are Wes and Jack?”

  “Pa sent Jack on some fool errand,” Ella said with a slight frown.

  “And Wes went with him.”

  Michaela’s weak smile grew. That was just like Pa. It had been four years since he’d retired and yet he was still commanding people about.

  She walked over to the worktable and grabbed a pot. With nothing else to do, she might as well heed Gray’s suggestion and make a pot of soup.

  A little while later the soup was on the stove to boil and Mrs. Lewis was resting. Michaela gently placed a hand on Mrs. Lewis’ forehead. No fever, that was good. She was likely feeling better.

  She removed her hand and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before joining Allison and Ella in the sitting area.

  “I take it you rode Sundance,” Ella commented.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Your hair looks nothing like it did this morning.”

  Instinctively, Michaela’s hands went up to her hair. After Gray had turned away from her and she’d righted her gown, she tried in vain to get her hair into some semblance of a style. “Since when did you start memorizing my hairstyles?”

  Ella stared at her then a silly grin came over her lips. “Oh, Michaela!”

  Michaela and Allison exchanged looks. “What are you talking about?” she asked her sister.

  “I know why your hair is like that.” She waved her hand through the air. “Jack likes to touch my hair, too.”

  Michaela gaped at her sister. “That’s not—” She broke off. What was the point of lying? “We didn’t…you know…if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  Allison patted her forearm. “Give him time,” she murmured, her brown eyes full of compassion and understanding.

  Michaela almost snorted. “I don’t think there is any amount of time that will undo what’s happened now.”

  “Oh?”

  Sighing, Michaela proceeded to give them a condensed version of the day’s events. “When we were out at the river alone, he started showing signs of interest.” She swallowed. “Undressing me and touching me and such. Then abruptly he stopped and pulled away. I asked what was wrong and before I knew it we were quarreling and in my mortification at the situation, I said the first thing I could think of, which was to insult his masculine ability.”