by Murray, Anna
“Come inside, you’ll catch cold.”
She rose from her work. “Okay. I’m just about finished.” Hannah’s skirt swished, and he watched the sway of her hips as she entered the house and set her sketch on the table. When she came out again she was wearing a wool cape and cap. Jed captured her hand and lifted it to the crook of his arm, and they walked in silence, breaths fogging the air.
At the hotel John greeted them, little Rose Hannah on his hip; when they stepped into the dining room, he showed them to their usual table near the fireplace. “Jed, we have your favorite pie tonight.” John was in a jovial mood, and the baby cooed to the lilt of his voice.
Hannah took a little hand and squeezed gently. “Rose is more beautiful each time I see her.”
“That she is,” John agreed, “and more spoiled, too.”
Jed pulled out Hannah’s chair and Hannah’s “thank you” floated like a cloud. He waited for her to sit and felt the warmth of her back against his fingers; he used the opportunity to lean over and inhale the fragrance of her thick chestnut hair. She was the sweetest thing he’d known in years.
While they waited for supper he watched the firelight flicker over the stone hearth. “I visited Adella and Pete today.”
“And?” She raised one eyebrow to peer at him from beneath soft lashes.
“It’s going well. I see a change from the severe angle already, but she has to stay off the foot. Pete made crutches for her to walk on.” The fire was warm, and Jed impulsively pushed up the sleeves of his blue cambric shirt.
Hannah stared at his forearm. “I talked to Watkins about getting more fruit into the store as we head into winter.”
Jed nodded. “I hate to think on winter sickness, but it’s a fact. The youngest and oldest need to stay out of the cold.”
She shivered. “Yes. The fire feels good tonight.”
“Indeed.” He liked the way the flames reflected in her eyes.
Hannah reached across the table and touched a scar that ran along his wrist. “What happened here?”
Jed stiffened. It had been so long he no longer felt the need to hide the wound. He thought about lying, but lies were not for Hannah.
“I cut my wayward self in my sleep, long ago.” Sorrow and pain battled in his eyes.
“Oh.” She gazed at the creases at the corners of his eyes and knit her brow, anxiety darkening her face.
“You know why. I’m a different man today, no longer locked in a prison of guilt and fear. I’m finding a peace I haven’t known in years.”
“It’s good.” She was silent a moment, and her eyes misted. She swallowed. “I saw Nelda earlier today.”
“Oh? Everything’s fine, I hope.”
“Yes, the usual. Colic and diaper rash.” Hannah twisted her mouth into a frown. “She did have a problem I couldn’t advise her on.”
“What is it? Perhaps I can assist.”
“Well, she wanted to know how to please her husband in the bedroom. She thought I’d have, uh, ideas on that, seeing as I’m newly married.”
Jed guffawed. “Wish I’d been a fly on the wall, just to see your face.”
“Yes. It was quite awkward.” She hesitated. “I know the basics of how it all works . . .”
“But you should have knowledge from experience, to understand pleasure as much as you know pain,” he grinned, “to empathize with your patients.”
“I admit, I thought about it.” Her cheeks were blazing. “Surely you’ve been with women. Tell me what a man enjoys.”
Jed was taken aback but he automatically checked his emotions. Keep it light, and tread carefully, he told himself. He gave a brusque nod before delving into his response. “Uh, I don’t like to talk about other women with my wife, but, as you’re also doctor and my colleague, I respect the clinical nature of your curiosity.” He waved his fork in the air and paused. “Before the war I had someone, and I liked the same things you would likely enjoy – kissing, touching in intimate places.” He lifted one shoulder. “It comes natural-like to people in love.”
“Oh.” She stared at his face. “You were in love then?”
“I thought I was,” he tossed it out and shrugged, hoping to ease any fears she might have about lingering feelings. “She’s nothing to me now,” he added. “It was a long time ago. I barely remember it.”
“Oh.” Her eyes shifted back to her plate.
Well, this is something, thought Jed. Her inquiry into the nature of lovemaking was a start. If she wanted to take the plunge into physical relations, then he was the only one who could sate her curiosity.
Suddenly he felt as nervous as a new bridegroom.
* * *
Hannah listened for Jed’s even breathing, as it drifted from outside her room where he rested on his pallet. He’d come so far. He hadn’t woken her with a night terror in two months. Hannah ran her hands over the scars on her legs, and she thought about Adella and Pete. She’d spent years harboring anger toward her parents, but no more. She lived far away from home now, she reminded herself. She could live her own way, and find contentment in her new life. Couldn’t she?
Immersed in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Jed when he got up from his bed and crept into her room.
“You awake?” His voice was hoarse and deep.
“Yes. You all right?”
The clock in the hall struck one. It was fully dark, but she could smell his nakedness, thick and stark and musky. Thunder rumbled in the distance; primal electricity permeated the air.
He lit on the edge of her bed. “Hannah, give me your hand.”
Hannah reached out and folded her fingers around his. The night was still and cool, and rain began to pelt the roof in a steady drumbeat. Her heart raced with it.
“You said you needed to learn to pleasure a man.” He paused, the rain pounded harder, and when she didn’t answer he continued. “I’ll show you.” He brought her hand to his crotch and slid it over his erect shaft.
Hannah felt the soft sheath covering his hardness. He groaned.
“Like this.” Jed ran her fingers over the tip. His voice sounded pained.
Wind rattled the windows, and Hannah was absorbed in a new kind of anatomical discovery.
“It feels good?”
“Oh yes. Oh yes.”
Jed lifted a lid on the tingling under her nightgown, in the places she usually tried to ignore, as he guided her hand, showed her the strokes. Abruptly he turned to his side, facing away from her. He groaned and stiffened with his climax.
Hannah put a hand to his back, felt his heavy breathing rise and fall with thunder peals, and when he turned back and kissed her she knew she’d satisfied his need. She lay her head on his naked shoulder and he tangled his fingers in her hair as he massaged her scalp. “Now you know something about what a man’s likes.”
“Besides cooking.” Hannah didn’t know why, but she had to make light of the intimacy they’d just shared, as if she couldn’t admit the profound satisfaction she was feeling.
“Sweetheart, I’m willing to be your husband, in more than name, whenever you are ready.”
“Oh.” She nuzzled his neck. “You could start by getting under the blanket to keep me warm.”
Chapter 26
Doctor Jed Rutherford made love to his wife three times during the night, and wonderful as it was, in the light of day he couldn’t convince himself it was right. And, judging from her coolness this morning, it appeared Hannah was also having second thoughts.
He cursed his eagerness to satiate his needs. It was her first time with a man, and he’d tried to be aware and go slowly. Or so he thought. She’d responded more boldly than he’d expected, but it had been a long time for him, and comparisons didn’t come easily. Yet he’d loved the feel of her soft hair falling around his shoulders, her smooth skin, and full lips beneath his own.
He ached to talk about it, but Jake was sitting dutifully at the table, waiting for his pancakes. Jed decided he’d get Hannah alone after Emily Anders
came by to fetch him. Thus, he lingered over his coffee until the girl appeared at the door. Hannah proceeded to run after Jake because he forgot his cap, and when she came back Jed reprimanded her.
“You shouldn’t go out without your cape.” An expression of worry was etched across his forehead.
“I had to catch him.” She sat down and looked into her cup.
He took a deep, swift breath. “Are you thinking about last night?”
“Some,” she looked up, her gray eyes filled with worry, “I don’t know. I’m not sure I should have.” She sighed. “We have to work as partners, and I need respect.”
“I do respect you.”
“Love should come first.”
“No matter what your mother told you, I’m capable pleasuring your heart, if you dare to unharness and give in to it.”
“It’s difficult.” Hannah’s eyes misted and a tear rolled down her soft cheek.
“You need time?”
“Yes.” There was nervousness in her voice. “My mind was set, from an early age, to have no such expectations.”
“Hannah, darling, you know there is someone for everyone. I think we are made for each other.” He flexed his fingers and reached across the table to cover her hand. “I have the rest of my life to show you how I feel.”
Jed was diving into unknown waters himself. He needed time, too. Hell, he wasn’t sure how he’d sleep with her every night. What was he thinking? What if the nightmares came back? She’d asked for sex to enhance her medical knowledge, and he’d been thrilled to comply. Now his relief was mixed with disappointment. If she couldn’t accept his love it would mean little. How could he help her to let her feelings run free?
He stroked her fingers gently, and an alarm fired in his head. “Your hand feels hot.” He leaned forward, pushed his hand up to her cheek, and then her forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“I’m overly wrought is all . . .”
Jed got up and ran around the table. He pulled out her chair and slung one arm under her legs and the other around her back. He swept her up tight against his chest, and carried her up the stairs to her bed.
“I’m fine. Don’t be silly,” she protested.
“You’re feverish, and I’m taking care of you. You’re my only wife.”
“Thank heavens for that!” She groaned. “How many women could handle you?”
“Only one,” he quipped. “and just now I’m caring for you, Mrs. Rutherford.”
He kicked open the bedroom door and carried her to the bed.
Minutes after he settled her in the nausea gripped her with the force of a tornado, and Jed rushed to get a pan. She vomited twice.
“Knew you were sick. Your cheeks were flushed.”
She rolled to her side pulled the covers around her. “I must have picked this up yesterday when I was examining the Smithson kids. They were feverish.”
“I’m going down to the kitchen to make tea. Stay in this bed. That’s an order.” He wagged a finger. The muscles in his neck were pulled taut. “Don’t make me get my riding crop.”
She smiled weakly. “I submit, Doc. I feel like a rag doll.”
“You need rest, partner. Jake will do the chores when he gets back from school.”
“I don’t want to seem forward, but could you smuggle up some tea?”
“You bet, honey. That’s what I said I was planning to fix.”
“Yes . . . add a teaspoon of honey,” she echoed.
Delirium, he thought. It was a bad sign, and Jed was scared. A fever was dangerous as a rattlesnake bite.
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Guilt was eating him. Maybe she got sick because he’d kept her up with his lovemaking.
Her eyes were fluttering shut, but he kept up the banter.
“I’m going to get the tea, and medicine now,” he whispered.
“The horses too. Get the horses out before they’re burned,” she muttered senselessly.
“Sure thing,” he answered without thinking. Fevered patients were nonsensical, and he was accustomed to replying with whatever came to mind. “I’ll fetch them.”
“Don’t tell father! Don’t tell him we were jumping in the hay mound, OK?”
“It’s our secret,” Jed retorted.
She swallowed, and turned her head toward the whitewashed ceiling. “Mother is angry now. She hit me. It wasn’t my fault. Billy wanted to sneak into the barn to play in the hay.”
“I know. It wasn’t your doing. It’s ok.”
“Not OK,” she blabbered. “Flames.” A tremor shook the length of her body.
He remembered the scars along her leg, and her fear of fire. Dread crept up his spine. Jed rubbed his neck to rid himself of the prickly sensation.
“Was Billy your brother, Hannah?”
Tears welled and spilled over, down her soft cheeks.
“I was out, and he ran back to get the bay. He ran back inside!” Her voice was ragged. “Stop, Billy!”
A lump formed in Jed’s throat. “I’m so sorry, Hannah. So sorry.”
“When pa brought him out he was cold. Mama was different after. She wanted to hurt me. Somehow it was my fault.”
“But it wasn’t, Hannah. It wasn’t.” Jed put the back of his hand to her forehead. She was burning up.
“I know in my head.” Her voice was growing ragged.
“Hannah, you were only a child. You are forgiven.”
“I am? You forgive me?”
“Yes. Hannah, do you forgive me?”
“For what? Don’t be a ninny.”
“During the war I had to let one soldier die to save another,” he admitted painfully. ”More than once. We didn’t have enough doctors.”
“The war wasn’t your fault.”
“And you didn’t start the fire.”
Hannah’s story tore at his heart. He leaned over her and offered shelter and warmth. He ran a hand through her hair and caressed her soft cheek.
“But my mother –“
“Your mother was angry and grieving. Some people turn their anger in the wrong direction, and they hurt those they love the most.”
“Yes, yes . . . Hawkins started the fire.“ She coughed. “My throat hurts.”
She was as confused and delusional as a lamb lost in a blizzard. Jed tamped down his fear, slipped from the room, and ran down the stairs to fetch the medicine.
Chapter 27
Hannah stumbled into the comfort of his presence. When he leaned into her with water she drank against the pain in her throat, and then pressed her face against his shoulder. When the droplets on her mouth and chin soaked through the flannel of his shirt he brushed them gently aside and ran his fingers through her tangled hair.
“My head hurts.” She dug her fingers into his shoulders.
“Try not to think on it. Dream of something pleasant.”
“I’m inside a painting.” She tilted her head back. Her gray eyes hovered, dark as storm clouds, under heavy lids. “I’m working to get through today.”
“I know the feeling.”
They leaned against each other in the dark.
“I feel cold.”
She chattered and trembled.
Jed settled down beside her in the bed and eased her into his chest. He wrapped the blankets around them. Her head reached his shoulder, and he bent to place it under his chin.
Rain fell on the roof, and sometime during the night it turned to bits of ice pelting like pebbles on the glass panes. Hannah shivered, and he his strength held fast against her bucking.
In the morning the storm ended, and Hannah’s fever broke, but weakness remained.
* * *
In the dim light Hannah stared through the window at the lingering overcast sky, while she heard Jed stoking the stove and moving pots to and fro below. Cold followed the icy storm on a brisk wind, doubling over the prairie grasses. Shey’d be house bound, but she’d do her best to paddle her weight.
Hannah looked up when she Jake’s light foot
fall on the steps, and his dark head appeared in her doorway. She propped herself on her elbows to make a run at getting out of the bed.
“Hey, Ma!”
“Good morning, Jake,” she croaked.
“Pa says I should ask you what you want for breakfast.”
“You tell Pa I can eat anything except his burnt toast.”
“All right!” Jake spun around like a windmill and clambered down the stairs.
Hannah swung her feet to the floor and tested the weight of her lower body on her legs. Gripping the night table she pushed up and wobbled to a stand. Slowly she stepped into a skirt and pulled on her blouse. She ambled slowly into the hall, and steered for the stairs. She sat down on the top step and moved down to each stair on her bottom, by first placing her feet on the step below and then lowering herself to the step above her feet. Stealthily she moved from one step to the next, and when she got to the last step she stood up and shuffled into the kitchen. Jake was seated at the table, and Hannah put a finger to her lips to hush him. Jed, facing the stove, didn’t see her until he turned with a plate piled with flapjacks.
“What the -- !” He stopped himself. “What are you doing down here?” Panic and anger were mirrored in his blue eyes.
Jed’s concern warmed her more than the heat flowing from the open oven door. “I’m feeling much better, and a rumor was going around about breakfast being served.”
“Didn’t the rumor include the news that we were bringing it up to you?” Jed looked pointedly at Jake, who cringed. “You’ll never land yourself a woman. You treat the horses better,” Jed growled at the boy.
“I’m hungry. Are those eggs?” Hannah interjected.
Jed slid the plate in front of her, and he sidled over to the door and took his duster from a hook. He moved behind her and placed it over her shoulders and wrapped it snugly across her breasts. Jed’s hand brushed against her neck, and his touch sent a tingle down her spine.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. She attempted a smile, but those muscles were stiff from lack of use.