by Cindy Nord
The front steps creaked as he climbed. Four strides later, he stopped at the front door. He leaned sideways and peered through the glass panes that graced the barrier. Faint light radiated from the back of the house.
Should he knock? Or just go in?
Will she still want me?
His hands fisted then relaxed. It had been so long since he’d held her. He swallowed, then exhaled, slipping his hand around the doorknob. The brass felt cool against his palm and a muscle tightened in his jaw.
It didn’t matter whether she still wanted him or not…he wanted her. And he’d lived every agonizing minute of the past year in anticipation of just this moment. A smile quirked his lips. Oh yes, before this night moved into a new dawning for them both, he would make his Angel want him all over again.
And she would know exactly how much he loved her.
Reece turned the knob and entered the house.
Emaline lifted the container of tallow candles from the table, then paused to listen. Muffled footsteps echoed from beyond the kitchen door. She inhaled, then exhaled in a thin rush of air. A veil of frustration passed over her. They must stop this incessant checking up on her every minute of the day and night.
I’m fine, Euley, now go back home.
No…don’t be angry with them.
They just care.
Behind her, the kitchen door swung open just as she slipped the sandalwood box onto the pantry shelf. Emaline drew her hands through her hair to shove aside the ever-present wisps that clung to her damp forehead.
Worn loose, she let her hair hang in a tangled mess down her back.
Without turning around she quipped, “I said we’d finish tomorrow. Please go give Israel his supper.” She reached over to the rows of canned foods. Only the routines of her day kept her sane.
How many times have I told them? The green beans go on the left, the tomatoes on the right.
Glass jars scraped across the wood as Emaline jerked them back into their correct positions. Order—the brittle thread that holds me together. “I’m perfectly fine, I’ll see you again in the morning.”
Silence filled the room.
Emaline turned. A single candle illuminated the winter kitchen. Her gaze settled upon a large figure leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest.
Her eyes widened. A strangled gasp lodged deep in her throat. She stiffened in shocked surprise. Her left hand rose to encircle her throat as every fiber within her tightened at the inconceivable sight.
Emaline didn’t dare breathe.
She refused to blink for fear the image would disappear into the disparaging loneliness that her every waking hour had become. Six unbearable weeks had passed since she’d heard the news of his death.
And now, in her grief-stricken state, she realized she’d at last lost her mind.
Then a familiar grin tipped the corner of his mouth upward. The richness of his voice crashed over her, filling every crevice of Emaline’s parched and lonely soul. “I promised you I’d come back.”
A split-second later, amid a whoosh of brocade, she crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.
Reece surged into the room.
“Emaline!” he bellowed, reaching down to sweep her from the floor. He cradled her in the crook of his arm. Several steps backward brought them to a kitchen chair. He lowered onto the smooth oak, his arm wrapping more securely around her. “Come on, Emmy, wake up.” His fingers traced the curve of her cheek, patting softly. “Please, love…open your eyes.”
She began to stir, a soft moan reaching his ears. He waited, his heart thundering inside his chest.
Her eyelids fluttered and then opened.
Their gazes locked.
“Welcome back,” he whispered, his lips quirking again into a smile. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, then raised a trembling hand to his face, touching his lips. Reece gently nipped her fingertips, his smile widening behind them.
“I-Is it really you?” Her words were low, filled with hope.
“Yes, my Angel. It’s really me.” He chuckled at the expression brightening her features.
“But, I thought you were…dead.” She pushed against his chest and sat up, still cradled across his lap. “Brennen said you’d been killed at Five Forks.”
His eyebrows slanted inward. “Five Forks?”
“Yes. He showed me newsprint that said the 6th Ohio’s commanding officer had been killed.”
Reece hesitated, then slowly understood. “Oh, I know why he might’ve thought that. And he was right, my regimental commander did die that day.”
“But I thought you were in charge?”
His arm tightened and he lifted her into a better position. “A week before the battle, I was promoted to Brigade commander. I took Jackson and a few others of my immediate staff with me. Colonel Brady died that day.” Reece leaned his head against the back of the chair. “I’ve spent the past six weeks discharging men and finishing paperwork. And then, I had personal business to tend to. I should’ve known the letters explaining my delay wouldn’t have reached you?”
“N—no, I received nothing.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. The postal service is still in shambles.”
A tear slipped down her cheek in a silver streak. “Oh, Reece,” she said, burying her head against his chest. Her fingers splayed across his shoulders. “I’m so happy you’re finally here.”
“Look at me,” he said, his expression softening as his hand slipped under her chin. He lifted her head and emerald eyes met his. He framed her face with his hands, brushing back the soft curls. “For the remainder of my life, I will always be right here.”
Under the swell of her tears, love shimmered back at him.
Moisture welled in his eyes too.
“I’ve waited far too long to do this.” Reece leaned forward and claimed her lips in a fierce kiss. She ran her palms up his arms and across his shoulders, embracing him tightly. He nipped down the smooth contour of her neck, whispering against her silky flesh. “I’ve thought of little else except loving you.”
She moaned and tugged at him in a frantic pull until he met her lips again.
Her breasts flattened against his chest. She issued a tremulous whimper when his tongue swirled into the softness of her mouth. The kiss heated him to a fever pitch, his arousal, a pulsing commander of will now. “Forever and always you’re mine,” he said.
“Yes…only yours,” she moaned against his lips. “Forever and always.”
Hot pressure welled in his groin. She trailed sweet kisses over his face, her hand slipping between them and traveling down his frockcoat, scraping over tarnished buttons and the hard plane of his stomach, sliding past his belt buckle until she at last found the swell that proclaimed his burgeoning need.
She pressed.
And Reece hissed, dragging his breath inward in a rush of air. Her touch, raw. Wonderfully bold. His blood rolled through his veins. He lolled his head back against the chair, and groaned between clenched teeth, “Careful, Angel, it’s been a while.”
A pleasing shade of pink flushed Emaline’s cheeks and highlighted the faint freckles that swept across her nose. She giggled and leaned into him. “For me too.”
A slow smile curled his lips. With his next gulp of breath, Reece looped his arms tighter around her, and then stood. Dear God, she was a banquet set before him…and he, a mere mortal, fresh from war and famished for her delicious offerings.
“I’m finished with our greetings, how about you?” She nodded and dipped her head against his chest. Cradling her in his arms, Reece surged from the kitchen, her voluminous skirt sweeping in a black curtain across him. He crossed through the parlor and headed toward the stairs. All thoughts fled his mind but one—undressing her with a need honed by months of denial. She commanded him—her whispered promises of love would nourish him a lifetime.
Emaline tilted her head back and laughed, the sound honey-rich and rewarding. Her hair fell in a dark c
urtain over his arm and Reece nipped along the curve of her throat, pleased to feel her skin flushing warm beneath his mouth.
Her moans were a heady invitation that drove him onward at a determined pace. She curled into him and nestled her head into the curve of his neck. A feeling of true completeness settled over him. “I’m home, Angel. That’s all that matters now.”
Reece ascended the stairs in a dozen strong strides, then headed down the darkened hallway. He crossed the threshold into the bedroom and Emaline reached over his shoulder, pushing the door closed behind them.
They spent the remainder of the night in paradise.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Waking came slowly to Emaline.
A glow of contentment simmered through her. She wiggled her toes and sighed. The tingling in her lips reminded her all over again of the exquisite night they’d spent in lovemaking, passionate most times, a tender rejoining, others.
She reached out only to find the bed empty.
My God…did I dream the whole thing?
Panic seized her. She glanced sideways. The rumpled place where Reece had slept was empty, but he’d been here. His scent, their scent, still lingered on the sheets to embrace her. The panic slowly ebbed.
He’s alive and he’s home forever!
I must tell the others.
The drumming beat of galloping horses brought her bolt upright. Emaline tossed back the covers, scrambled from the bed and raced to the window to peer outside.
Sunlight radiated down upon an astonishing scene.
Her heart slammed in her chest and she dashed for her robe and slipped the fine lawn fabric onto her sensitive skin. Jamming her feet into leather slippers, she hurried from the room. She hiked the robe up around her knees and descended the main staircase two steps at a time, then dashed out the front door and across the veranda. Dust swirled around her as she came to stop on the top step.
The wooden planks beneath her slippers vibrated as dozens upon dozens of horses galloped past her, their hooves pounding against the hard-packed earth. The sun’s midday glare nearly blinded her. Emaline shaded her eyes, staring in disbelief at the blurring haze of riders and sleek-coated beasts.
And then she spotted Reece riding alongside the magnificent column.
He guided his buckskin toward her, reining Saguaro to a stop beside the front steps. “Is this the Shapinsay Plantation, ma’am?” he asked, his eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his slouch hat.
An odd flutter raced through Emaline’s chest. “Oh you. Where did you…?” she stammered, searching for words, but her voice stuck in the back of her throat.
A devilish gleam lit his eyes. “What, my love? No rifle this time?”
Love for him surged into every chamber of her heart and she could not contain her laughter. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Tacker and Israel waving their arms in wild attempts to redirect the milling beasts toward the corrals. And though she couldn’t see Euley, Emaline heard the old woman bellowing orders to keep the critters out of the garden.
Reece narrowed his eyes, then leaned from the saddle toward her. “I’ve decided to return the horses I confiscated from you. You remember that day, don’t you?” He rubbed an imaginary spot on his cheek where she’d slapped him that long-ago morning.
Emaline blushed. “Oh yes, Colonel Cutteridge. I remember that day very well. In fact, you thought to kiss me in broad daylight in my own study, much to my chagrin.”
Tears flooded her eyes. Couldn’t he see she needed to touch him, needed to tell him in a million different ways how much she loved him?
He straightened, instead. “Yes, that I did, and don’t regret doing so for one moment.” He pushed his hat back a bit farther on his head and dark hair fell in waves over broad, dust-covered shoulders. “And while these aren’t exactly the same horses, I’m sorry to say, they’re still a good start.”
“A start?” she asked, laughter bubbling outward. “There are hundreds of horses here, Reece.”
“Yes, two hundred and twenty, to be exact. Callie shipped them to me from Dos Caballos. Appaloosas, mustangs, paints and palominos, all bred for speed and agility, and all possess the strength to survive any elements. Since Jackson bought my half of the ranch, I’ve nowhere to go with them. So I’m completely at your mercy. You must say yes to my plans.”
Her arms wrapped her waist. Oh, how she ached to kiss him. Between sobs of delight, Emaline gasped, “What plans?”
“Our future, my love.” He gestured toward the horses. “The war has critically depleted the horse population in the east. There’ll be a true need for stock again, and it’s my intention to have everyone in Virginia buy them from us. No more tobacco farming for you.” He stared off across the fields. “This will make excellent pastureland for the horses.” He turned back and inhaled. Happiness mingled with the expression across his face. He then peered down at her. “So…can I stay?”
She gripped his pants leg. “Oh my God, Reece, I’m so glad I didn’t shoot you back then.” Laughing so hard now her cheeks hurt, she said, “Yes. Yes, you may stay here forever.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Come here,” he ordered in a wickedly delicious tone. He bent down and with an ease born of solid strength, Reece swept her off her feet.
Her breath caught and for one magnificent moment, Reece cradled her in midair in the crook of his arm before settling her sideways across the saddle in front of him. Blood pumped through Emaline’s veins as dust swirled around her carrying deep inside the aromas of horses and ancient pines and the spicy hint of her lover.
Yearning reflected from the depths of his eyes and his hand sank into the tangled waves at the nape of her neck. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her toward him. “Shall we seal the deal?”
Before she could offer a reply, his mouth came down on hers. Hard. Searching. Demanding. Emaline readily surrendered, opening for the sensual sweep of his tongue. Desire for this man zipped clear to her toes and set her soul aflame. When his lips lifted from hers, she groaned aloud, limp with longing for more. She arched her neck and he nipped a path down her throat, sending quivering shudders careening through her again.
“Marry me,” he whispered, his words burning against her skin.
Emaline opened her eyes, and stared up at the turquoise sky. “Wh-what?” she stammered, blinking several times. She straightened, her chin dropping as she stared at him.
His powerful features shimmered into focus. “Marry me,” he repeated.
Emaline splayed her hands across his chest, then leaned forward, skimming them over his broad shoulders as she nestled into the incredible strength of this man.
Tear-filled eyes rose to his and ever so slowly she lifted her lips into a smile. “Yes, I will marry you.” The simple words, brushed against his lips in a warm rush, carried all the love she felt for him. He tightened his hold around her trembling body, and from that moment forward, she knew he would never let her go.
Epilogue
April, 1866
Shapinsay Plantation
“Here’s another letter from your sister.” Emaline handed Reece the envelope just delivered by courier.
“Again?” He looked up from the ledger, a grimace crossing his face as he ripped open the vellum envelope. “Good God, poor Jackson. I’ve sent him into the viper’s pit.”
Emaline laughed and crossed the room to the wingback chair. Settling onto the soft cushion, she tucked her feet beneath her. Things were going well for them now, and the plantation’s profits stemmed directly from Reece’s hard work.
She was happy. Beyond happy. And she could hardly contain her own news.
His chuckle broke through her musings. “Looks like Jackson is insisting Callie stop swearing. He wants her to start wearing dresses and start acting like a lady.” Another quick laugh followed. “She’s praying for the day he drops dead.”
“Well, if anyone can cajole your sister into satin, it’ll be that smooth-talking man.” Emaline we
ll remembered the major’s implacable charm.
“You know, don’t you, this was my intention all along when I sold him the deed.” He tapped the letter on the desk and offered a bright smile. “Callie needs someone like Jackson, though she’ll never admit it. Someone who’s strong enough to stand up to her. And Jackson, well, he needs to be more flexible. In fact, they both need to learn that two heads can be better than one. Their narrow views about how the world should work need adjustments and it’ll be fun to see which one will get the upper hand. Yep, I’d say things are off to a rollicking good start for them.”
“Do you regret it?” she asked. “Selling the ranch, I mean?”
Reece smiled at her, his gaze lingering a moment longer than needed.
A delicious sizzle zipped straight through her.
“Not one single day. You, this place, are my life now. I’m quite content.” He winked at her, then placed the letter into the drawer, his attention returning to his books. A lock of dark hair drifted over his forehead and the sight sent Emaline’s heart into a thrumming beat.
She wanted to run her fingers through the thick strands again.
She knew if she but arched a brow, he would oblige. Here in the study, on the kitchen table, nestled in a mound of soft hay in the stable, it didn’t matter where to Reece. His appetite for her had no end, and neither did hers for him.
The sensations he’d created as they headed downstairs for coffee this morning, floated over her again to reel her thoughts. Total conviction gleamed in his dark eyes as he swept her into his arms, pressing her against the wall. With his robe opened to reveal his magnificence, Reece offered her a grin, then eased her down onto him. A raspy hiss of pleasure filled the hallway as he buried himself deep inside her. And for several delicious minutes her diaphanous nightgown curtained them away from the world.
Emaline giggled and snuggled deeper into the chair.
To busy her hands, she lifted her tatting from the side table. The sweet little secret that nestled inside her begged for revelation, but this was too important to simply blurt out while her husband tallied their books.