“Whoa! Back up a little there, ma’am.” Shay’s arms circled her waist and drew her against him. “If I don’t talk him into it, you’re not gonna love me forever? Is that the way it goes?”
She shook her head impatiently. “No, silly man. You know better than that. I’ll just make it worth your while if you’re very persuasive.” And then she blushed, her cheeks flaming as she spoke the provocative challenge.
“Damn. An offer I can’t turn down,” Shay said with a hoot of laughter. “That’s a promise if I ever heard one.” His mouth formed against hers and his words were a seductive whisper against her lips.
“Just watch me, Jenny Devereaux. For you, I can talk the birds out of the trees.”
Epilogue
March, 1870
The sign hung between two posts, white sentinels gracing the end of the long drive. Shay had made it from a piece of oak, burning the letters deep, then sanding it smooth before he varnished the finish to a rich burnished hue. They’d thought long and hard about a new name for the place, Shay being agreeable to keeping the old, but Jenny determined to make a beginning that would include the whole family.
So it became The Oaks. On this spring morning Shay and Noah worked at the momentous task of putting up the sign at the end of the avenue, with Jonah looking on. Posts finally in place, they lifted the board, then stepped back to view their work, all of them recognizing the unspoken bond forged through the past months. “This deserves a celebration,” Jonah said. “It’s kinda like a christening.”
The sound of a bell echoed through the trees, clanging in a continuous rhythm, and Shay looked toward the house. “Something’s going on,” he said, bending to pick up the tools. “We’d better hightail it back to the house and see who’s pulling the bejabbers out of that rope.”
“You don’t suppose…” Jonah’s eyes lit with excitement. “Maybe Jenny’s taken to her bed.”
“Isabelle’s there,” Noah said placidly. “She’ll tend to things till we get there. Ain’t no place for a man anyway.”
“Well, they’d better wait for me,” Shay said firmly, climbing into the wagon. “If y’all want a ride, you’d better get on.” He offered a hand to Jonah, hauling him onto the seat, and listened to Noah’s chuckles as he eased his way onto the wagon bed.
“Don’t you worry, Mr. Shay, it takes a good long time to birth a baby. You’ll probably still be walkin’ the hallway when the sun goes down.”
“Do you suppose she’ll have a girl?” Jonah mused. “Maybe she’ll name her after her mother. Mattie. Wouldn’t that be grand?”
“Katherine’s hoping we’ll have a girl,” Shay said. “She wants her daughter to have a cousin to play with.” Shay cracked the reins over the backs of the mules and the wagon rolled into motion.
Birth was at the forefront of his mind, with new life appearing on every hand. He’d helped deliver two litters of piglets, and a calf, and watched as four kittens made their appearance in the past month. Even the chickens were producing, with three hens sheltering chicks beneath their wings in the broody house. Zora’s babe had made an appearance before Christmas, a son for Caleb.
The new mare was ready to foal any day now, and before long they’d be making a trip to River Bend to pick up two yearlings from Katherine’s stock. Not to mention showing off the new grandchild. And at that thought, Shay felt a surge of impatience. Pulling the wagon to a stop by the back door, he jumped from the seat.
“Take this on out to the barn, Jonah,” he said, his long strides carrying him onto the porch and through the door. Isabelle stood by the stove, the big teakettle steaming in front of her, towels draped over her arm.
“About time you showed up,” she said shortly, lifting the kettle and turning toward the doorway. “We’re havin’ us a baby right quick, and you don’t want to miss all the fun.” She looked at him sternly. “Miss Jenny wants you with her, and you gotta promise not to cause me any trouble.”
He washed quickly, anxious to be with Jenny. Surely bearing a child was the hardest task a woman could be called upon to face. And now he would stand by her side, able only to watch and wait. It might well be the most difficult position he’d ever experience, he thought, crossing the hallway to the bedroom door.
He turned the doorknob.
The March winds brought the scent of roses, and Jenny inhaled deeply of the aroma, recalling the day, almost a year ago, when Shay had put the trellises in place on either side of her bedroom window. Shay…this was his doing, she thought, gritting her teeth. They’d rung the bell for him. Surely he’d be on his way.
Sweat beaded her brow as she allowed the pain to take her again. It had begun, as with Marshall’s birth, across her back, then swept to clench beneath her belly. But this time with unexpected speed, and ferocious intensity.
“Won’t be long now, Jen.” Isabelle scrubbed in a basin near the door, finally satisfied that bed and bedding, and especially Jenny herself, were as clean as soap and warm water could make them. “You’ve got this thing down pat.”
“Shay?” He stood in the doorway and she closed her eyes. “Come hold my hand.” The words erupted on the heels of a groan, and Shay crossed the room to kneel beside the bed. His hands gripped hers, and he bent his head to brush his cheek against her hair. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” she told him. “I can do this.”
Her hands clutched at him and her nails dug into his skin. “Hang on, baby,” he crooned, easing to sit on the edge of the bed and holding her firmly. “You didn’t tell me when I went to hang the sign that you were gonna do this today.”
“She didn’t know it herself till about half an hour ago,” Isabelle told him. She reached to strip off the top sheet, her hands efficient as she slid towels beneath Jenny’s body. “You better get behind her, Mr. Shay. You made it just about in time. That red-headed child is gonna be born before you know it.”
Shay moved quickly, climbing on the bed, and Jenny leaned back against his chest, gasping for breath as the pain abated, then cried aloud as it returned with renewed force.
“Push that young’un right into my hands, girl.” Isabelle leaned forward, her fingers probing, stretching and easing the way. “Don’t waste your breath complainin’, Jen. Just get to it and give me my baby.”
The pain engulfed her, wrapped her in tentacles of agony and, for the first time, brought tears to her eyes. Jenny bent her head, bearing down against its fury, her hands wrapped now in the ropes Isabelle had tied to the bedposts, as she fought a silent fight for the end to this struggle. Her head tilted back against Shay’s shoulder and her teeth clenched tightly as the muscles she bid to obey brought forth her child.
Isabelle lifted the infant high, its lifeline still intact and pulsing, and her cry was joyous. “You got you a girl, honey. Prettiest hair I ever seen on a baby.” Her laughter rang out and Jenny smiled, the pain almost forgotten as Isabelle turned the tiny form to be inspected. The delicately formed lips opened and a piercing shriek erupted, bringing a shout of laughter from Shay.
“Damn, that girl can holler,” he said.
“You won’t be half so thrilled about her carryin’ on when she gets goin’ in the middle of the night,” Isabelle promised him, grinning widely. “Come hold your baby, Mr. Shay, whilst I cut the cord.”
He slid from behind Jenny, propping her with two pillows, and delivering a quick kiss against her cheek, then grasped his daughter, holding her firmly while Isabelle busied herself with string and scissors.
Then with a clean, warm cloth, she wiped the small face and head, laughing as the tiny mouth opened eagerly to suckle her finger. Tossing a square of flannel across Jenny’s stomach, she nodded at Shay. “Wrap her up good and give her to her mama. They need to get acquainted.”
His hands were clumsy, but wrap her he did, and Jenny watched through tears of happiness as he nestled their child in her arms. She grinned at him, tired but triumphant. “We’ll have a boy for you the next time, Shay.”
He was
thunderstruck, his amazement obvious. “You’d willingly go through this again? I was afraid you might be mad at me forever for making you suffer so.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” she said, her hand gentle against the cap of flaming curls. “She’s really going to have red hair, isn’t she?”
“What do you mean? Not that bad?” Shay pulled the sheet up to cover her, then sat down on the edge of the bed. “I was here, Jen.” His big hand reached toward the baby, and miniature fingers curled around his thumb.
“She’s strong,” he whispered. “Look at how pretty she is.”
And indeed, she was, with slate-blue eyes that promised to darken over time. Her mouth formed a tiny O, and she turned to nuzzle against Jenny’s breast. Easing her gown aside, Jenny offered sustenance and the rosy mouth sought its source. “Her eyes will be like yours, Shay.”
“She looks like you, though. What shall we name her?”
“Do you mind if we call her Mattie, for my mother? I think Papa would like that.” Tears threatened as she spoke and she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat.
“Just watch. Jonah will never want to leave,” he told her. “He was pretty well settled in already. And this will cinch it, honey.”
“Do you mind?” Her fingers cupped the tiny head, and she bent to inhale the scent of newborn flesh. Then she looked up as Shay shook his head.
He bent to press his lips against her cheek, and his whisper was low, meant for her ears alone. “I knew I’d never be able to resist you, sweetheart. Not from the first minute I saw you.”
“Really?” she searched his face, leaning wearily back against the pillows. “I’ve wondered sometimes if I didn’t…” She hesitated, biting at her lip. “I seduced you, Shay. I wanted you to marry me, and I…”
“Yeah.” His smile drew at the scar he wore, and he grinned uncaringly. “You did, at that. I’d never been seduced before. I kinda like it.” Passion blazed from dark eyes as he bent to kiss her. “Matter of fact, I can hardly wait to give you another chance at it.”
Isabelle picked up a bundle of bedding from the floor and chuckled, opening the door. “I told you a long time ago to watch out for that man, Jen. He’ll keep you hoppin’.”
“Mama?” Marshall stood outside the doorway, clutching his grandfather’s hand.
“Come on in, son,” Shay told him, “and bring your grandpa with you. Tell him Mattie’s here.”
ISBN: 978-1-4603-5975-4
THE SEDUCTION OF SHAY DEVEREAUX
Copyright © 2001 by Carolyn Davidson
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The Seduction of Shay Devereaux Page 27