“Kissing you goodnight,” he murmured before lowering his mouth.
She thought she possessed a stronger will but it seemed to give way as his tongue found hers. Amanda felt caught in a whirlwind, rendered helpless by sudden cravings and it wasn’t until his hands trailed upward that her mind protested his trespass. Why should she grant him the pleasures of her body when he so easily disregarded her feelings?
Pushing a hand between them, she pulled back. “I’m not in the mood to kiss you goodnight,” she breathed shakily. “You can leave now. I need my rest.”
“Then I suggest we go to bed so we can rest,” Reagan said. “I’m feeling rather tired, myself.” With a grin, he grabbed her shirttail, lifting upward.
“Quit that!” She slapped his fingers, but he only caught her hand before reaching for her buttons. “Why should I swoon at your feet when you’ll otherwise have nothing to do with me?”
“Because,” he whispered, brushing her cheek with his lips. “I want you.”
Trapped in his arms, Amanda avoided his mouth but he nuzzled her ear, sending shivers in every direction. She lifted her shoulder, breaking contact, but suddenly found lips pressed against hers while a hand rose to brazenly capture her breast. Amanda gasped at the scalding pleasure when, through the cloth, he teased a peaking crest.
“Woman,” Reagan whispered, “I think I will have you now.” Slipping an arm beneath her, he lifted her up and, before she knew it, had pushed aside the quilts and lowered her to the bed.
“Wait,” she said, placing a hand against his chest. “If I’m not sharing your days, you shan’t spend your nights with me.”
“Oh, but my dear,” he said, capturing her hand and pressing it against his lips. “That’s when I want to be with you.”
Amanda squirmed beneath him. “How dare you ignore me all day, then use me at night!”
“How dare you come to me and then forbid me to love you,” Reagan said while capturing her hands. “You being here, drives me mad for want of you.”
Amanda wriggled but it only worked against her as her shirt shifted upward. Seeing his advantage, Reagan stroked a bare leg before running his hand beneath the cloth. With slow deliberation he unbuttoned her shirt until her softness lay bare to his eager gaze. “Stop that!” she demanded.
Ignoring her command he lowered his head. Amanda gasped when his mouth made contact, setting her afire with a myriad of sensations. “Stop…” she whispered. But he kept on, and under his persistent assault, a fervor built within her until she stopped resisting. Reagan removed his trousers before ensnaring her body. Then, twining his fingers into her hair, he reclaimed her lips while moving against her with gentle, teasing strokes. Amanda was vaguely aware of his murmurings as he kissed her eyes, lips and throat. She forgot about everything as she lifted herself upward to accept him fully. As they moved, she found herself once again carried to heights she never dreamed possible. For that brief span of time, she was wanted, needed by Reagan, and all was right with the world.
Later, he slept with one arm slung around her waist. With her back to his chest, Amanda listened to his breathing. Her mind drifted over the past months and how circumstances had spiraled out of control until she found herself married to a man she little understood. Do I really know you, she wondered, drawing his hand against her cheek. Will I ever come to know you?
Chapter Fifty-Two
By the end of her second day at the lumber camp, all of Amanda’s fantasies were undone. Reagan made firm his habit of leaving before sunrise and returning after dark where his evenings were spent at his desk. Though she had Reagan’s attention at night, this certainly wasn’t the romantic interlude she expected and soon felt greatly disappointed.
A few days later, Amanda stood at the mirror working tangles from her hair when she heard a knock. She opened the door to see Theo standing there.
“I’m to get the dishes, ma’am.”
“They’re on the desk,” she said, missing Theo’s curious glance as she returned to the mirror and her tangles.
In the cook’s shack, Theo scrubbed dishes. By the time he finished, he had an idea.
He searched through the woodpile and after finding a suitable chunk, sat down and pulled out his pocketknife. He whittled for an hour, forming a crude comb with widely spaced teeth. Theo then slipped the comb into a pocket before going to the stables. Sifting through implements, he found a never-used bristle brush and soaked it in water while he sanded the comb smooth. After rounding the points until the teeth were no longer sharp he took a small chisel and carved scrollwork into the wooden grip. He knew it was time to ready the sleigh, but first dried the brush then ran to Reagan’s cabin and knocked.
When Amanda opened the door, he held out the brush and comb. “You might…could…use these…” He placed them in her hand the same time Hattie emerged from the cook’s shack.
“Boy! Where in hell’s tarnation are you?”
Amanda looked in surprise as Theodore tore across the yard and disappeared into the barn. She had often regretted not packing her brush or comb, and though these were neither shiny nor finely crafted, looked to work just the same.
Amanda forgot about obtaining her meal. She closed the door and went to the mirror to unwind her braid. Taking the comb, she began with the bottom strands and worked upward until it slid easily through her hair. She next used the brush, savoring its feel until she heard a commotion outside. Through the window she could see Hattie and Theodore leaving in a sleigh laden with provisions.
“There goes lunch,” she muttered. “And now, I’m all alone with nothing to do.” After taking turns staring out the window and feeding the stove, she rummaged through Reagan’s trunk and pulled out a book. A few hours later, she grew bored and began cleaning the cabin. But, Reagan’s penchant for neatness didn’t give her much to do save wetting a rag to wipe away cobwebs. By the time she heard the sleigh return, she had changed her mind about never visiting the cook.
Hattie and Theo had made several trips indoors by the time Amanda approached the cookhouse. “Well, don’t just stand there,” Hattie said, pointing to the sleigh. “Grab those dishes!”
Amanda scraped off the pan and followed Theo inside as Hattie disappeared into a back room, emerging with a large ham. She began slicing off chunks while hollering over her shoulder. “Theo! You got that sleigh unloaded?”
“Yes’m.”
“Git that horse bedded! We’s late gittin’ dinner on!”
Amanda set down her pan while Theo scurried outside. She stared at Hattie’s back, wondering if the woman ever conversed in a civilized manner. “Seems your entire day is spent preparing food,” she ventured.
“All I got is this half-witted boy,” Hattie said, her knife thumping the board. “Ain’t had no decent help since a’fore Jed grow’d up and became a logger hisself.”
“Jed?”
“Jed was my last boy a’fore this’n and two others. Scrawny as chickens, they all been, since Jed. This’n don’t do nuthin’ lest he’s told, and then drops half whut he fetches.”
Amanda approached while Hattie tossed a log into the stove. “Is…is there anything left of what you took to the men?”
“Some biscuits and cold coffee is all.” She turned to give Amanda a hard stare. “You c’n have them, but from now on, you eat when it’s time or not a’tall. I won’t have my routine upset more’n it is a’ready.”
“I will,” she said, grabbing a biscuit. Finding a stool, Amanda watched the cook as she bustled about. Theodore returned and began washing dishes while Hattie placed lumps of dough into the oven before stirring simmering vegetables. As aromas filled the kitchen, Hattie filled several platters, bidding Theo to set them at intervals on the tables.
“Theo!” she barked. “It’s time to milk ol’ Betsy! She’s prob’ly near to bustin’!” As he grabbed a bucket, Hattie looked to where Amanda occupied a corner. “And you girl, you best git to the cabin. The boys’ll be back a’fore long.”
; After being in the warm cookhouse, the cabin seemed unusually cold and Amanda realized the fire had gone out. She went to the woodpile as several wagons emerged from the forest. She grabbed a few pieces before going inside, hearing Reagan’s voice as he gave his horse to a teamster before entering the cabin.
“You let the fire die?”
Amanda knelt before the stove, her hands full of kindling. “I-I went to see Hattie this afternoon and forgot about it.”
“I thought you couldn’t have a semblance of a conversation with her,” he said, hanging up his coat.
“I guess I didn’t really mean it,” she said, scooping cinders into a bucket. “It’s just that this hasn’t turned out like I imagined.”
“Of course it didn’t, you ninny.” Reagan hunkered down and took over the task. He then formed a rick in the stove while Amanda handed him pieces of wood. “So, what do you think of Hattie?”
“I’m not sure. We didn’t talk much.”
“She may be a bit gruff but you’ll soon appreciate her talents. Not everyone can keep order while feeding two-dozen roughnecks. With Hattie, I don’t worry about undercooked food or coffee tasting like shoe polish.” Striking a match, he lit the kindling. “She keeps the men happy. Happy loggers run this operation. So, I guess you could say our success rides on the bellies of our men.” He closed the stove and adjusted the vent before helping Amanda to her feet.
“She does all that?”
“And more. She runs a tight ship and she never complains.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Reagan said. “Here, hand me your coat.”
“Not yet. It’s still cold. But look what Theodore brought me,” she said, positioning her treasures until they lay just so.
“They look nice,” he said, drawing near behind her. “So, besides fixing your hair, what did you do all day?”
“Oh, I straightened up a little. Read some, too.”
“Perhaps Sunday, when the boys have a day off, I can take you to the work site,” Reagan said, slipping his arms around her waist. “You won’t see the operation in action, but it’ll be the next best thing.”
She smiled over her shoulder. “Truly? You’d take me?”
“As long as weather permits, then yes, I promise,” he said, pressing a kiss against her temple.
“I seem to remember another pledge made, but never fulfilled,” she said, smiling.
Reagan searched his memory while Amanda pointed her finger at him in the mirror. Raising her thumb, she wrapped her remaining fingers back, simulating a gun. Suddenly, Reagan recalled when they were first accosted by bounty hunters and his offer to show her the use of a pistol. “Oh that,” he said, giving a playful squeeze. “Since you’re now my wife, you shouldn’t have need of that particular talent.”
“But what of the times we’re apart?” she asked. “It’s obvious we’ll be seeing little of each other during winter.”
Reagan felt the air warming and unfastened Amanda’s coat. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said, turning her around. “Maybe, it’s time to promote Danny. Then I could stay at home and pursue the full time job of defending your honor.”
“But, how am I to protect myself against you?”
Reagan lowered his lips near hers. “Why, my dear, there is no safeguard against me.” All day, he had thought of their passionate lovemaking. So heated were his imaginings, it was as if last night’s coupling hadn’t occurred. His need to possess her became a hunger that refused to be satisfied. As he moved over her lips in eager anticipation, a loud knock startled Amanda, causing her to break away.
Reagan threw open the door, viewing an obviously embarrassed Danny. “What is it?”
“The Koshak brothers are at it again.”
With a frustrated sigh, Reagan shrugged on his coat. “What are they doing this time?”
As they hurried away the men passed Theodore laden with a tray. The boy knocked and then waited for Amanda to open the door.
“Hello, Theo,” she said, stepping back. “Please set that on the bed. I also want to thank you for the brush and comb.”
“T’weren’t nuthin’. I seen ya needed ‘em, that’s all.”
“Well, I really appreciate it. It’ll make a world of difference while I’m here,” she said, smiling. “So, tell me, where’d you learn to carve?”
Theo looked down, his face flushing. “Used to do such for my ma. She had purty hair, like you. But, it was red, ‘stead of dark.”
“It was a thoughtful gift,” Amanda said. “And since we’re on the subject of comfort, do you suppose there’s another chair somewhere? With two of us occupying the cabin, it’d be more comfortable if one didn’t have to sit on the bed all the time.”
“Sometimes Danny brings in a chair when he goes over maps with Mr. Burnsfield,” Theodore said. “I know where it’s kept. I could also bring an old washtub. Turned upside down, it’d make a good table.”
“That’d be lovely. But only when you have time. I don’t want you getting into trouble on my account.”
“Mebbee tomorrow I c’n fetch ‘em for you,” he said. “Right now I need to call the men to supper, so I gotta go.”
Amanda had uncovered the food by the time Reagan reentered the cabin. “Did you get the problem fixed?” she asked, handing him a plate.
“Theo’s signal took care of the situation,” he said, sitting on the bed. “Nobody fights after the bell rings.”
“I can see why,” Amanda said. “This food is delicious. I could eat it everyday.”
Reagan stabbed a chunk of meat and began slicing. “Don’t worry, you will. Come spring, you’ll not want to look at another flap-jack or fried beef again.”
“I see you’re still eating,” she said sipping from a glass of water.
He took his time perusing her form before meeting her eyes. “When a man is hungry, he eats.”
Amused, Amanda arched a brow. “But, you can’t say it matters not what you have to choose from. I mean, would you look at simple fare as eagerly as a sumptuous meal?” By the look on her face, Amanda expected his next response to be a tribute to her charMs. After all, he had showered her with amorous attentions from the moment they wed.
“If there’s food to be had, milady, I’ll consume it. On the occasion it turns out to be a delectable morsel, then all the better.”
Amanda frowned. “I think you jest,” she goaded, her chin rising. “I don’t believe anyone cares so little about his…stomach. The food’s merit should be as important as how it’s presented.”
“Should someone starve while waiting for the perfect meal?” he asked, grinning. “I think not.”
“So, you’re saying a man isn’t particular, even if it displeases his palette? I thought men of breeding were more discerning.”
“Then you don’t know much about men, madam. He’ll accept whatever’s set before him until something more savory comes along.”
Amanda felt stung. Once again she felt foolish to think Reagan had ever considered her first choice. Yet her pride refused to admit what her heart conceded. There might come a time Reagan would choose another. “Then I would doubt the worth of the man more than the cook,” she said, her eyes clouding. “Either that, or I’ve badly misjudged your gender.”
“Well, my dear, that may be true of most men,” Reagan said as he reached out and caressed her cheek. “But you needn’t worry. For indeed, the cook’s a master chef, and I a bondservant who awaits the sweet sampling.”
Disarmed at his touch, Amanda held her breath. But he seemed to drop the matter and they finished their meal in peace. Afterward, Reagan set water to heat before placing the empty dishes outside. He then sat at his desk making notes in a ledger while Amanda resumed reading her book.
When the water began simmering, he poured it into the washbasin, adding cool water from the pitcher. He then stripped to his waist and washed. After dumping the water outside, Reagan removed his boots and stretched out beside Amanda. At first he
rested an arm on her hip as he snuggled against her backside. It wasn’t long before Amanda felt his hand move from hip to shoulder, then slowing to caress her cheek. “It’s time for bed,” he murmured, taking her book.
“Says who? Cook or bondservant?” she asked. His hands were already unbuttoning her shirt when Amanda rolled away. “Kitchen’s closed, I say!”
Yet, despite pretending to fend against his advances, she soon gave in and allowed his lips to claim hers. Matching passion with passion, she quickly went to that place where doubts no longer existed and Reagan’s love was certain.
Chapter Fifty-Three
The morning dawned cold, but a clear sky promised a full workday for the men. After breakfast, Amanda spent time with a needle and thread mending one of Reagan’s shirts. Later on, Theodore brought the promised chair and half-barrel with handles cut near the top. She instructed he set it upside-down near the bed but as she moved about the cabin, Amanda found its placement a hindrance. She decided to store it against the wall. Grasping a handle near the floorboards, she tried dragging it but found her leverage poor.
Amanda rested while studying the situation. Maybe by overturning the barrel she could better control the unwieldy thing. Gathering her strength, Amanda wrested the barrel onto its side then pushed with the momentum until it settled upright.
She peered inside at encrusted filth and immediately gagged on odors that emanated upward. “Ugh!” Covering her nose, Amanda grabbed her buckskin gloves then hurried outside, scooping snow into a bucket. She dumped rime into the barrel and scrubbed its insides while balancing precariously on the rim. After discarding the slush behind the privy, she next heated water laced with soap and rinsed the barrel from top to bottom. Perspiration covered Amanda’s face by the time she finished mopping out the water. As she wiped her brow, she noticed the outside of the tub had remained dry. No leaks!
Suddenly, Amanda envisioned the barrel filled with hot water, and she, up to her neck in warmth. The thought of obtaining a real bath gave her courage to bring her request to Hattie.
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