“I feel safe now, here in your arms.”
Ian squeezed her tighter. “Can you wait a while longer?” he asked. “I need to take care of some business and find us some supper.”
Faith looked at him incredulously. “I’m beginning to wonder why you married me,” she said, pushing him away and placing her hands on her hips. She looked him up and down and could find nothing lacking in his manly form. “The problem must be in your head,” she finally declared.
Ian grabbed her arms and pulled her to him, hard. She let out a little gasp, and his mouth came down on hers before she could draw in a breath. His tongue pushed its way into her mouth, taking possession of her. His hands moved down her back and caressed her behind, pulling her against his thighs. She felt him pressing against her stomach, felt the heat of him. One hand moved up and ravaged her hair, pulling locks of it out of the neat braid she was wearing. Her knees buckled under her, and he pulled her up with one hand cupped under her buttocks. He turned, and she felt the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed. He pushed her down on it and broke off the kiss. He leaned over her; his arms braced on either side of her, his hair flopped into his eyes. Faith lay on the bed, panting to regain her breath.
“When I come back, you will have my undivided attention. You will have it for so long that you will beg me to stop.” His dark blue eyes were shooting sparks into her pale blue ones. “You will never again doubt why I married you, do you understand?”
Faith nodded her understanding. He flashed his grin at her and kissed her forehead.
“Lock the door behind me,” he cautioned, and he was gone.
Faith made good use of her time while Ian was away. She carefully examined the few articles of clothing he had packed in his saddlebags and made use of the needle she’d brought with her toiletries to do some mending. She changed into the one nightgown she had brought with her. It wasn’t the creation that Miriam had picked out for her wedding night with Randolph; instead it was plain and practical, the first one out of the drawer when she had hastily packed. She was sitting on the bed brushing her hair when she heard his knock on the door.
“Where have you been?” she cried when he entered with a basket of food in one hand and a package wrapped in brown paper in the other.
“I went to buy you a wedding gift.” He pulled her into his lap and handed her the package. Faith carefully held the gift, the weight of it heavy in her hands. “Open it,” he urged. She pulled the paper off and saw a wooden box. The top was carved with an angel reaching out her hands as if waiting to pull someone into her arms. “Remember the story of the angel?” he asked. “I saw this box and knew we had to have it. It’s to put the story of our lives in.” He pulled their marriage certificate out of his coat pocket. “We can start with this.”
“Ian, it’s beautiful. I—” Tears welled up in her eyes. She took the certificate from Ian and placed it in the box. She gently closed the lid and held the gift in her lap, her hands on either side. Ian placed his hands over hers. She leaned her head back to kiss him. As they were kissing, he took the box and set it on the bedside stand, then pulled her down on the bed beside him. The basket of food got in their way and it was soon on the floor, followed closely by his boots.
The next few seconds were spent hastily removing his clothes and her gown. When they were both undressed, Faith felt suddenly shy. He was beautiful, she realized, like a warrior angel, or one of the gods of mythology she had read about in school. He was lean and well muscled, his chest and back smooth, his legs long and straight, with a reddish tinge of hair starting at his navel and traveling down to his groin. She tentatively reached out her hand and let it trail across his chest. He closed his eyes, and she continued following the path of hair. He took her hand in his and guided it to his shaft.
“Ian, show me. I want to... I love you . . .” she began. Ian pulled her to him and they lay side by side, his hands exploring her, his lips following his hands until she was quivering beneath him, breathless, begging, urging him, her hands imitating his, driving him to the same place she was going. He raised himself over her, preparing her for the initial pain. “Please,” she whispered, tears overflowing the comers of her eyes. He entered her, slowly, letting her adjust herself to him, and when he felt her ease, he began to move. Faith clung to him as if she were drowning. She felt herself whirling in space, a thousand stars spinning around her. Ian was her lifeline, without him she would go on into the beyond, never coming to earth again.
“Faith, look at me,” he gasped. She opened her eyes and saw the deep blue of his above her, his hair hanging down over them. She held his gaze until her world exploded and she heard his cry above her.
When her world stopped spinning, she was lying in his arms. “I love you,” he said softly, his mouth against her forehead.
“Don’t ever stop,” she whispered, her mouth against his neck. She marveled at the essence of him, the taste of his skin on her lips, the smell of sunshine, hay and the faint hint of soap. He rubbed her back and buttocks, making her body arch against his in pleasure. He chuckled at her antics, and she rubbed against him again, making use of her hands. She was trailing her fingers across the hard plane of his stomach when it issued a growl. He placed his hand over the rumbles.
“If we’re going to keep this up, I will have to have some nourishment,” he said, feigning a weakened condition.
Faith gathered her quilt around her and went searching for the basket of food. It was hidden beneath their clothes, which had been hurriedly tossed aside. Ian piled the pillows against the headboard and discreetly pulled the sheet up over his waist. Faith placed the basket between them on the bed.
“I told the cook downstairs that it was our wedding night, and she took pity on me,” he explained as they unpacked roasted chicken, cheese and bread. There was also a jar of lemonade and some apple tarts wrapped in a cloth to keep them warm.
“You seem to have a way with cooks,” Faith remarked as she tore off a piece of chicken. “I recall the Masons’ cook was quite taken with you.” Ian flashed his grin at her.
“I never asked if you could cook, did I?”
“If I can’t, are you going to send me back?” She held up a piece of chicken and fed it to him.
“If you can’t, you’ll just have to make up for it in other ways,” he said with a leer.
“Just try to keep on the cook’s good side,” she answered with a leer of her own.
They soon ate their fill and Faith began to clean up the leftovers, trying to save them for their lunch on the trail. Ian had other ideas, however, and she barely had their supper cleaned up before he had her in his arms.
He had been right earlier. Sometime before dawn, she begged him to stop; her body was so sensitive she couldn’t stand any more. He wrapped her in her quilt and pulled her to him. She was soon asleep and so was he, with a very satisfied smile on his face.
When Faith woke up the next morning, she was totally disoriented. She was in a strange bed in a strange place, and her body felt as if it had tumbled along in the flood waters of the Ohio. She was still wrapped in her quilt, but she felt as if something was missing. Her eyes focused on the wooden box sitting on the table next to the bed. “Ian,” she whispered to herself and searched the room for him. He was gone, along with the clothes that had been scattered about. She stretched in the bed, taking careful inventory of all her muscles and marveling that she could move at all, after the passionate attention he had given her. She sat up and pushed her hair back from her face.
“Oh, so you’re alive,” Ian said as he came into the room. “You were sleeping so soundly, I thought you were dead.”
“It’s a miracle I am alive after the abuse I suffered last night,” Faith retorted dryly.
“Oh, abuse is it? A man shows a wife how much he loves her and she screams abuse?” Ian’s grin flashed dangerously, causing Faith to pull the quilt up under her chin. He sat down on the bed and pulled the quilt off her in one quick motion, leaving her expose
d to his reaching hands. He had her pinned under him before she knew what had happened and was trailing kisses down her neck while his hands roamed her body. Faith made use of her own hands to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants.
“We’re never going to make it to Iowa territory at this pace,” he said later when they were both lying spent and sated on the bed.
“Ian, please don’t make me ride on the back of your saddle again today,” Faith groaned. He raised himself up and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Get dressed. I won’t make you ride on the back of my saddle again unless you want to.” He pulled her up from the bed and handed her hairbrush to her. “You’re going to need this too.” He grinned and tugged on a strand of her hair. Faith used the brush to smack his behind as he turned away, and then began to work on her hair. She soon had it tamed into a braid, and Ian busied himself packing up the leftover cheese, bread and the forgotten apple tarts. Faith dressed and gathered her things into her bag. When she came to the box, she stopped. She searched in her bag for her mother’s Bible and carefully placed it inside the box, along with their marriage certificate. She closed the lid and ran her fingers over the surface, feeling the carving of the angel. When she looked up, she saw Ian watching her, a gentle smile on his face. She stood and went into his arms.
“I love you so much,” she said. He held her tenderly, as if she would break.
“I love you more than my life,” he said. They stood in each other’s arms like that for a moment.
Then they went down to the dining room and had a late breakfast. Faith knew Ian was still worried that Mason might come after them. Even though they were now married, she knew Mason was not the type to give up easily. He would come after them just for revenge. Ian was keeping to the lesser known roads, but she knew that neither of them would rest easy until there were several more miles and a couple more rivers behind them.
“I was thinking, Ian, there’s no reason for Randolph to know we were headed west. Wouldn’t he think we were going back to Richmond?” she asked as they ate breakfast.
“I think Mason is the type to cover all the options.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I won’t hide it from you, Faith. I’m not afraid of anything in this life but losing you, and he’s not the type to stop, especially now, after you put that bullet in him. It isn’t easy for us to hide, either. People notice you because of your beauty, they notice me because of my height, and they’ll notice Storm because of his unusual coloring. That’s something I can’t change, so I’m hoping to stay clear of places where we will be seen. From now on, we’re going to stick to ourselves and travel the less known routes and hope he gets tired of looking.”
“I know you’ll do everything you can to protect us,” she said. As long as Ian was next to her, she felt as if nothing could hurt her.
“I’ve got another surprise for you.” He smiled across the table.
“Ian, all your money will be gone before we get to where we’re going,” Faith protested. Ian just grinned at her and pulled her up from the table. He led her out back to where Storm was waiting, saddled and ready to go. Storm wasn’t interested in Ian, however; his attention was devoted to a black mare standing next to him at the rail. She had the same delicate look as Katrina, and was very flashy with a white blaze and four white stockings.
“Mrs. Duncan,” Ian said with a bow and a wave of his hand, “I’d like to present to you the founding members of the Duncan horse family—and by the way, your ride for the rest of the trip.”
“She’s lovely,” Faith exclaimed as she made friends with the mare. “Is this what you were up to last night?”
“Since it’s Sunday, I thought I should get us provisioned before today. I noticed her down by the livery, and the man was willing to strike a deal.”
“I love her. What’s her name?”
“I’ll leave that up to you.” He gently lifted Faith up to the saddle. She noticed that her rig included saddlebags that seemed well stocked with supplies. Ian’s own rig held a pack where she had been sitting and a rifle attached to the side. Ian noticed Faith’s survey of their belongings and he shrugged his shoulders. “I guess it’s belter to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have
it,” he explained and hung her bag over her saddle horn. He finished putting his belongings on Storm and gracefully mounted. They rode off, the cook coming out to wish them well as they left. Ian just grinned at Faith as they rode by the waving woman.
“I guess I won’t have to worry about starving to death,” she said, and Ian laughed. The day was pleasant, the weather still mild from the storm a few days past. Faith was much more comfortable riding on her own, although she did miss the contact with Ian. They followed a route that was a bit north of the main trail that most settlers took. They passed a lot of farms and small communities and were for the most part the only people on the road. The rolling hills and valleys they were used to had given way to flat land that stretched for miles before them, occasionally broken by groups of trees.
The riding was easy, for which Faith was grateful, and the two mounts traversed the miles rapidly. Ian and Faith took notice of everything, Ian often pointing out a house that caught his attention or a barn design that looked practical. He was planning their home—he could see it in his mind—and he wanted Faith to see it too.
Faith, meanwhile, was trying out several names for her mare and finally settled on Tess. Ian approved, and she christened the mare with a rub on her finely arched neck. The mare responded by shaking her head, causing her mane to fly out in all directions. Storm thought she was flirting with him and began to show off, jumping into a trot. Ian steadied him with a firm hand.
“I guess I’ll be spending our trip keeping this rutting beast in line,” he said when the horse had settled beneath him.
“Just as long as he’s the one acting up and not you,” Faith said with a lecherous look on her face. Ian flashed his grin and then got down to the business of finding a place to stay for the night. He finally settled on a sandy creek bank along a deserted stretch of the road, and they set about making camp. After a quick meal Faith decided that a bath was just what she needed, and the creek offered the perfect opportunity. Ian joined her and they were soon on the bank, rolled up in the quilt, enjoying the benefits of matrimony.
Day after day passed in much the same manner. The weather would change on them from one day to the next, they were either seeking shelter from passing thunderstorms or seeking relief from the heat. Ian found Faith a straw hat with a wide brim to help keep the sun off her delicate features. He just turned more bronze in the sun, his hair now shot through with streaks of gold. They traveled on, Ian growing more relaxed each day as the threat of pursuit became unlikely. Faith was just content to be with Ian, no matter what the weather or the traveling conditions. They stayed to themselves, occasionally stopping in a town for provisions, mostly making do with what they could find or catch.
After a few weeks they found themselves facing the Mississippi River and turned south to cross over into St. Louis. After the days of traveling on their own, they were overwhelmed by the number of people making the passage. Ian began to seek out large groups of men, to listen in on their conversations. He would mingle into the group, make a few comments about heading west and then let the others ramble on, each one having an opinion on where the best settlements were, where the best land was, where the safest place was. It was a trick he had learned when he had been racing Storm, and it had served him well.
The most important thing was to be settled somewhere before winter. That ruled out going to Oregon or California, where most of these people seemed headed. Iowa territory seemed to be the place for them, probably the western part. It had just been opened to settlers, and if he could believe what he heard, the land would be good for what he wanted. Also, there were a lot of forts in the area to protect against Indian attacks, and the army would need horses, as would with all the travelers heading further west. He decided
the best course was to go on to Independence, then north to St. Jo. It was midsummer now; they could be settled before autumn was upon them, he was sure.
They spent the night in St. Louis at a small inexpensive hotel that Ian found after asking around at the docks. Faith protested at spending the money, but he insisted, not knowing when he would have a chance to treat her again. They enjoyed the benefits of a bath and a fine meal, and especially enjoyed the comforts of a soft bed after spending many a hard night on the ground. They finally fell into an exhausted sleep sometime after midnight, Faith wrapped securely in Ian’s arms.
The morning was soon upon them. Ian, always an early riser, woke up his usual cheery self. Faith was hard to rouse, and when she finally did wake up, she bolted directly to the chamber pot and lost the expensive dinner she had eaten the night before. Ian held her until the heaves were over and carried her back to the bed. He rinsed out a cloth at the washstand and cleaned her face. Faith just lay there under his careful touch.
“I guess the food was too rich after what we’ve been eating lately,” she finally managed to say when the room stopped spinning before her.
Ian didn’t respond; he just looked at her tenderly and kissed her forehead. She sent him on down to breakfast, the thought of eating anything sending her stomach into spasms. He returned a short time later with a biscuit and helped her to sit up and take a few bites of it along with some sips of water. She soon felt better, and insisted that they be on their way.
They joined the caravan of people traveling west out of the city, but soon overtook them, making better time on horseback than the wagons loaded down with children and household items. By nightfall they had caught up with another group and decided to make camp with them, Ian liking the safety of numbers now that he was in unfamiliar surroundings. The group was lively, excited about the future. This was their first night out on the trail, and they were making the most of it with music and dancing around the fire. They readily included Ian and Faith, who was feeling much better, her eyes sparkling when Ian whirled her around to the music. Afterward, they curled up in her quilt by their own fire and counted the stars above. Ian talked some more about his dreams for their place, and Faith was soon lulled to sleep by the sound of his voice.
Chase the Wind Page 8