Twice Blessed

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Twice Blessed Page 23

by Jo Ann Ferguson


  “Later. For now, I want to hold you and be within you.”

  “Noah …” Her voice faded as he pressed his mouth to the base of her neck. She quivered and slid her hands up along his chest to dip over his shoulders.

  He leaned her back on the bed where a wide swath of moonlight streamed like a cool river. Shadows danced as the tree beyond her window moved in the breeze. When she held her hand up to him, he let her draw him down over her soft curves, which soon would be against his mouth.

  He released her hand and snatched the pins from her hair, which dropped onto the coverlet to add a golden warmth to the moonlight. Gently he brought her mouth to his. His tongue traced her lips, savoring each inch. When she moaned and clutched his arm, heat riveted every muscle and burned deep within him. He ached to discover how fiercely it burned inside her.

  When he teased her lips apart to taste again the silken slickness, her gasp burst into his mouth. He rolled onto his back, bringing her to lie atop him. His hand against her back kept those beguiling curves against him.

  “My beautiful wife,” he whispered before she pressed her mouth to his.

  She gave him no time to say anything else, silencing him again and again as he had her by the door. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and hooked a finger under each suspender holding it in place. When he teased the half circle of her ear with his tongue as she was lowering his suspenders along his arms, she paused to bring his mouth back to hers. Her eager breath fanned the fire within him into an inferno.

  He drew back her gown to find even more of the lace that surrounded them. When she pushed him away and knelt to pull off her dress, he chuckled.

  “Don’t stop there, sweetheart,” he said as he sat back against the pillows and folded his arms in front of him. He relished the sight of her bare skin luminous in the moon’s cool radiance.

  “You want me to undress myself?”

  “I want to watch you undress.”

  With a smile that was brighter than the moonlight’s, she shook her hair back and ran her fingers along the lace at the top of her shift and down to the top hook on her corset. He held his breath as he watched her fingers—as he became her fingers, stroking that silken skin and gliding down over her alluring breasts—unhook it slowly. Had he been mad to allow her to undress herself? She seemed intent on tormenting him with such slow, deliberate motions.

  She tossed her corset aside and ran her hands up her sides. When he reached out to do the same, she slapped his fingers away.

  “You said you wanted to watch.” She slipped one finger under the left strap of her shift and, lowering it, smiled. “So watch.”

  “You’re a devilish woman.”

  “And I plan to bedevil you tonight.” She dropped the right strap off her shoulder.

  He laughed when she sat back and began to undo one shoe. When she dropped it to the floor, he murmured, “You’re going to have Lewis running up here to see what’s going on.”

  “I suspect he knows.”

  He was amazed when she balanced one foot on his shoulder. Her eyes glittered with longing as she rolled down her stocking. She slid her foot down his chest to rest on his leg as she put her other heel on his opposite shoulder. His breath pumped in tempo with her fingers drawing down her stocking along her lithe leg. Again her foot glided along him in a teasing caress. As she laughed and rose to her knees to lower her stockings over the side of the bed, he wondered how much longer he could resist this temptress. She drew one arm out of her shift, then the other. Holding it to her breasts with one hand, she lifted the hem.

  He knew he could endure no more of this taunting pleasure when she drew it up along her. Grasping her, he tore the shift from her hands and threw it away along with the shreds of his self-control. Her delighted laugh vanished beneath his mouth as he pulled her into his arms and beneath him.

  Kicking off his boots, he tasted the downy skin between her breasts. His tongue inched along her as he reached to undo his trousers.

  “No,” she whispered, “I want to see you undress.”

  “Next time, sweetheart. A man can prevail against such temptation only so long.”

  She laughed with joy. Each breath brushed against his naked skin. Within seconds, his clothes were tossed aside as well. He leaned over her, and she moaned as her naked legs entwined with his.

  As if he had never touched her before, he kissed her while his fingers moved along her, creating the scintillating fire that scorched him. Lingering on the gentle upsweep of her breast and then stroking the curve of her hip, his fingers wandered across the softest skin along the inner length of her leg. She writhed against him, and his mouth covered her gasping lips.

  When he probed deep within her, she whispered, “Please.”

  “Please what?” he whispered against her ear. In her most intimate depths, she quivered, and his yearning threatened to escape his tight control.

  “Don’t wait any longer. Please.”

  His breath caught on the jagged edge of indescribable pleasure at the very second he joined them together. Hearing her gasp, he brought her lips back to his as they moved in the undeniable rhythms of love. A voice whispered endearments, but he was not sure if it was hers or his or simply the fused symphony of their hearts. The melody wove around and through him, escalating into a rhapsody. Then, as he heard her give herself to the ecstasy, everything exploded into a wanton abandonment of all his senses but the pleasure he wanted to share only with her.

  Again and again … and again.

  They were coming. She could hear their voices—shouting, angry, lusting for vengeance. The familiar voices with such an unfamiliar fury.

  She whirled. Escape. She must escape, or they would make her pay for the crime that was not hers. She had to leave.

  Now … before it was too late.

  The shooting at the bank was over, but the questions would now begin. And she had no answers. At least, none anyone would believe.

  How could she have been so stupid? That question had been on everyone’s lips as soon as last week’s grim events became known. No one would listen to her. Even if a few people did, no one else would believe them. After all, how could she have been so stupid?

  She had believed Miles when he said work was going well, that all their dreams would come true, that soon he would have enough money to take her on that honeymoon to St. Louis she had dreamed of when she found she loved him.

  And she had believed he loved her.

  Everything had been lies. There had been no work, and she had nothing left but nightmares.

  Tears burned in the back of her throat, but she refused to let them fall. Had Miles ever loved her, or had that been just another lie?

  She had been a fool. Never again would she be such a fool.

  Picking up the small carpetbag she had packed clandestinely, she looked around. Only the fire on the hearth lit the room. Yet she could see the quilt lying across the back of the battered settee, the tarnished candlesticks on the mantel, and the rag rug covering the uneven floor. She would never see any of these things again.

  A fist struck the front door, followed by a shout of, “Open the door!”

  She took one step toward the back door, then another, hoping no shadow would reveal where she stood. Her breath snagged on the fear halting her heart.

  “This is the sheriff. Open up, or we’ll take down the door.”

  Time and hope and all her dreams had run out. She turned and pulled the quilt off the settee. Throwing its dark side over her shoulders, she fled through the kitchen and out into the night, far from the men milling around the front porch.

  She had to leave.

  Now … because it was too late.

  Behind her, she heard, “She has to know.”

  “How could she not know?” another voice asked.

  “Only a fool wouldn’t have known.”

  At that voice, which should not be here in Fort Pixton, Kansas, she stopped with her hand on the doorknob. Turning, she saw a man st
anding in the door to the parlor. His hands were hidden behind his back. Not Miles, but Noah. No one in Fort Pixton would understand, but she had thought Noah would.

  “Only a fool wouldn’t have known,” he repeated.

  “Then I was a fool.” Her own voice was steady, even as her heart thumped with both yearning and the fear he would walk away from her forever. “I was young, and he was charming. He charmed people in the bank, and he charmed me. If I had been wiser then, I might have seen through his pretense.”

  “Only a fool wouldn’t have known.” He drew his hands from behind his back. In them was a noose. Walking to her, he slipped it over her head. It dropped to rest on her shoulders. He reached to tighten it but—

  Emma woke with a start. The bedclothes were tightly wrapped around her legs, just as the noose had been about her throat. Sitting, she touched her neck, fearful she would find the thick rope around it even when she was awake.

  Dawnlight was seeping between the heavy curtains drawn over the window. She untangled the bedding and rose. As she rested her hand on the footboard, she stared at the pillow that was as indented where Noah had been lying. Where was he?

  Pulling back the curtains, she saw a motion in the thinning darkness. Someone was in the paddock between the house and the barn in back of the store. Not someone. It was Noah. What was he doing out there at this hour?

  A furious knock sounded downstairs, and her dog began barking. Throwing her wrapper over her nightgown, Emma raced down the stairs before the noise could wake Gladys and the children. Her cap almost bounced off her head, but she grabbed it and settled it back on her hair. Who was calling at this hour? She glanced at the parlor. Lewis was not sitting on the sofa. Maybe he had sent someone else to watch Noah.

  She threw open the door and choked back a gasp of horror as she locked eyes with Laird Gilson. His hand against the door halted her from closing it. When she released the knob to go for Noah, he grasped her wrist before she could take a single step.

  He came into the house and shut the door behind him. Slowly his gaze ran along her. She tugged the collar of her wrapper closer to her chin, but it did no good. His brazen appraisal seemed to strip away every defense she had.

  “Emma.” Gilson shook his head like a disappointed father chastising a child. “What a disappointment to discover such a lovely woman has a twisted mind and cruelly sent me on a useless goose chase that took half the night! What am I going to do with you, Emma?”

  “You’re going to take your hand off me right now! Then you’re going to leave.” She tried to twist her arm out of his hold. When his fingers dug into the sensitive bones in her wrist, she winced.

  “And if I don’t? Will you call to your husband for help?” His feigned smile became a fearsome scowl. “Will you, Mrs. Sawyer?”

  From the kitchen door, Noah said, “She doesn’t need to call for me. I’m right here.” He tried not to let his eyes linger on the relief lighting Emma’s face. If he did, he might not be able to keep his fist from driving into Gilson’s bulbous nose.

  He focused his eyes on his enemy. A superior smile tipped Gilson’s bushy mustache, which he must have grown to hide the scar on his upper lip. He had been attacked by a servant in his own household. Rumor suggested Gilson had been trying to force the servant’s sister into his bed. There never had been any confirmation, because both the servant and his sister were not seen again in Chicago. More gossip hinted Gilson’s men had killed them both. Noah was not sure if any of it was true, but Gilson was quite capable of ordering such atrocities.

  Coolly, Noah added, “I see your manners haven’t improved.”

  Gilson shoved Emma away. She cradled her wrist in her other hand, and Noah’s rage threatened to blind him.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” Gilson asked.

  “It took you long enough.” He laughed tersely. “If Baker hadn’t come running to you to get the reward you were offering, you still wouldn’t have found me.”

  “And, of course, I had Mrs. Sawyer’s help.”

  Emma cried, “I’d never help you take Belinda away from Noah!”

  “But you were much more honest with Atherton when he was visiting this backwater town.”

  Noah replied, “If she was honest with your spy, that’s only because Emma is pleasant to everyone who comes into her store. So tell me, Gilson, why are you bursting in on us instead of letting the authorities handle this?”

  With a snort of derision, Gilson said, “Because I want to see you get what you’ve got coming to you.” His tone changed into the beguiling one Noah knew he had used to fool so many people, much to their detriment. “I must say you’ve developed a good eye in women, Sawyer.”

  Stepping between Emma and the lechery in Gilson’s eyes, Noah said, “You have come to gloat that you found me, and you have. So get out of here.”

  “Don’t get huffy, Sawyer.” He drew a folded paper from beneath his black coat and shook it open. “I’ve come to get what is mine.”

  “There’s nothing of yours here!” gasped Emma.

  He grinned at her again and chuckled. “It’s a good thing you are his wife and not mine. No wife of mine would dare to speak back so to any man. Sawyer, you should teach your wife a woman’s place.”

  “She knows what it is. Her place is one of respect in Haven, where many folks depend on her for getting the supplies they need to keep their livelihoods going.” Noah did not look at Emma. He needed to watch Gilson closely, for he was not sure what the greedy coward would do. He knew Emma must be bristling with fury at Gilson’s condescending words.

  Seeing he could not irritate Noah with words, Gilson ordered, “Give me the child, and I’ll arrange for the charges to be dismissed.”

  “How kind of you! Only someone stupid would make any sort of bargain with you.”

  “You can accept my offer, or you can face the consequences.”

  “Noah,” Emma whispered, “you can’t let him take her!”

  “She’s mine by order of the law,” Gilson argued. “Don’t intrude into this argument with your female lack of logic.”

  “Haven is her home now,” Emma argued. “She believes Noah is her father.”

  Gilson’s eyes swept along her again. “And you aim to be her mother? It’s too bad, pretty thing, that you hitched yourself to Sawyer. I will need someone to look after the kid, and I could tumble you without too much trouble.”

  Noah caught Emma’s hand as she raised it to strike the smile from Gilson’s face. Maybe he should have let her hit Gilson, because the very touch of her soft skin against his palm urged him to toss Gilson out onto the street so Noah could warm Emma’s soft lips as he had last night. Was he as witless as Gilson believed him to be? He had to keep his mind on saving Belinda from this covetous cur.

  “This isn’t the way, Emma,” he said quietly.

  “That’s right.” Gilson chuckled. “Listen to your husband. He knows when he’s beat. Be a good girl and get the kid.”

  “No.”

  At Noah’s terse answer, Gilson took a threatening step forward. When Noah did not move either to defend himself or to halt him, Gilson hesitated. The lack of resistance obviously perplexed him. “Get her and bring her to me right now, Sawyer.”

  “No.”

  Emma put her hand on Noah’s arm as Gilson glowered at them in frustrated rage. Her fingers trembled, but Noah was as unmoving as the rocks in the foundation of the house.

  In an unruffled voice, Noah ordered, “The children are still asleep. I won’t have them disturbed now or taken from this house until this matter is dealt with.”

  “This matter has been dealt with. The court decided five years ago that I should raise her.”

  A double blur rushed down the stairs and toward them. Noah caught Butch by the collar before the dog could jump on Gilson. He tried to nab Sean, but the boy eluded him.

  “Leave them alone!” Sean shouted. “Your business ain’t with them.”

  “Who’s this boy?” Gilso
n’s nose wrinkled with disgust. “Do you let women and children fight all your battles now, Sawyer?”

  Emma stepped forward and put her arm around Sean. He twisted away. She glanced toward Noah, then said, “Sean, please come and sit in the parlor while—”

  “You deal with this double-dealin’ skunk dressed up like a fancy gent?”

  Noah laughed as Gilson’s face turned an unhealthy shade of red. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better description of him than that, Sean.”

  “Ever heard?” Sean repeated, frowning. “How do you know about any of Dickie’s boys?”

  “Dickie’s boys?”

  Sean looked at Emma, then lowered his voice. “You said not to speak of Dickie and his boys in front of a lady.”

  Noah nodded, understanding what the boy thought was happening here. He set his hand on Sean’s shoulder. “This isn’t one of Dickie’s bully boys from New York City, although Gilson is probably well acquainted with their like in the interior of every low brothel in Chicago.”

  “Chicago?” Sean scowled at Gilson. “If he’s not one of Dickie’s boys, then who is he? He shouldn’t be speaking to you like that.”

  Emma took Sean’s arm and drew him toward the parlor. She sat him in the rocker as she asked in little more than a whisper, “Is Belinda awake, too?”

  “Yes, but I told her to stay upstairs with the door closed. I didn’t want her to get into the middle of this. Dickie’s boys can play rough.”

  “Good. She’ll listen to you. Please stay here. This is between Noah and that horrible man.”

  “What does he want?” Sean pressed.

  “Wait here. I’ll explain after he leaves.” She ruffled his hair, which was mussed from sleep. “I promise I’ll explain, Sean, and I won’t ever break another promise I make to you.”

  He nodded, his eyes growing round when Gilson cursed viciously.

  Emma went back into the hallway. Quietly, she said, “Mr. Gilson, this is my house, and I’ve asked you already to leave.”

  “I’m not leaving without Belinda,” he snarled as he rounded on her.

  “I won’t have her ripped away from her family until this matter is settled once and for all.”

 

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