A Weldon Family Christmas: A Southern Steam Novella (Weldon Brothers)

by Saints, Jennifer

  “We’ll only have to eat one more C-ration tonight. In the morning I’ll catch a fish for breakfast.”

  Emma groaned. “I’m too tired to even eat,” she said, feeling guilty that he’d done all the work. She should be fixing him food.

  “I’ll feed you,” he said.

  The sensual tone in his voice had her stomach fluttering anyway. “I’m too tired for that, too.”

  He shook his head. “Guess the honeymoon is over?”

  “Honeymoon? Take fair warning, Lieutenant. I want a five star hotel, luxurious bath, and a soft bed for my honeymoon.

  He stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To check a few things.”

  He returned about twenty minutes later with hot water in his helmet and a coconut split open. He sat next to her. He touched her forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. That’s good. Let me see how your shoulder is doing and then I’m going to make you feel like a million bucks.”

  “You’re delusional,” she muttered, but sat up and unbuttoned her blouse. She slid it off her shoulder. He kissed her forehead and gently removed the bandage to examine her injury. “It looks good. There must really be something healing in the rambutan extract.” He dug out his other clean sock and reapplied the dressing. “I declare you well enough for a coconut bath.”

  “A what? I thought that was dinner.”

  “Well, we can eat the meat later. Right now I’m going to rub you down with coconut water.” He eased her shirt down and tossed it aside then untied her pants and slid off her loafers.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes, ma’am. You’ll feel rejuvenated in no time.”

  She stood, and he helped her strip. “And where did you learn this trick from?”

  “Our platoon, medic. Did you know that one time he gave a man coconut water IV and saved his life?”

  “Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”

  “Nope. It’s for real, but you can look it up for yourself when we get back. Just lay back, close your eyes, and trust me on this one.”

  Emma was at the point that anything would help. She was even too tired to be self-conscious as she lay naked with him clothed. John bathed her every nook and cranny with the steamy water then starting with her aching feet he began to rub her with the coconut water. It was cool, refreshing and he seemed to know exactly what muscles to massage and just how deep to go to make her relax. By the time he reached her thighs, she started thinking about how good he’d felt between her thighs last night. He skimmed up to her stomach and soothed her skin there. He massaged all the way up to her breast and she tensed, anticipating the feel of him caressing her breasts, but he moved to her hands and arms. Her neck and face came next.

  “Turn over, Emma,” John whispered in her ear and she shivered from the deep, seductive tone.

  “What if I’m feeling a lot better?”

  “Then you’re going to feel even better. I’m only a third of the way done.”

  She turned and puzzled over what he’d said. He’d massaged half of her already. He started at her feet again and coherent thought slipped away the higher he rubbed. He spent a great deal of time on her bottom before moving up her back and the aching muscles of her neck. “Feeling even better?” he asked.

  “Uhh huhh, marvelous.”

  “Rest a minute then.”

  She heard his clothes rustle and then him bathing in the water.

  “Okay, you can turn over for the last part.”

  “There’s more?” She turned back, amazed at how much better she felt.

  “Lot’s more.” He kissed her gently then deeper. “Do you want it now or later?”

  Reaching up, she pulled him down for another kiss. “Now.”

  He moved to her feet and this time, he kissed her instep, sliding his tongue along her sensitive skin as he moved his way up the insides of her legs. The higher he went the wider he spread her legs apart until she lay completely exposed before him. He smiled down at her then he kissed her sex.

  Surprised, she reached for him but then fell back and gasped with pleasure. Her legs fell open wider and she rocked her hips to the insistent stroke of his tongue. He groaned as if in ecstasy himself and lifted her hips higher so that only her head and shoulders lay on the mat. The blood rushed to her head. Her breasts tingled with want, and her sex felt as if it was on fire. The heat spread. She clutched the cover in her hands and strained for more. Then he suckled on that most sensitive spot and she climaxed—hard, her body spasmed to the music of his passion.

  “Lord help me, Emma. I can’t seem to love you enough,” he gasped as he thrust into her. Rather than lying down, he stayed on his knees and pulled her up to straddle his lap with her knees bent. He anchored her to him with an arm around her back and urged her high enough to suckle her breasts before he thrust deep inside again. For a long moment, he didn’t move. He just filled her as fully and deeply as possible, and she began to rock as her pleasure mounted. He met her rock for thrust, slowly at first then faster and faster until a frenzied blur had her heart racing and her body screaming for satisfaction. Then he lifted her to her back, brought her ankles to his shoulders anchored his hands on her hips and drove deep. Colors burst before her eyes, and her brain froze as ecstasy claimed her. By the time she came back to earth, John was lying beside her, kissing her, holding her, smiling at her.

  “You’re wrong, Lieutenant. I don’t feel like a million bucks.”

  “You don’t?” He looked as if his world collapsed.

  “No. I feel like ten million.”

  He laughed. “Remind me to double that the next time.”

  “Good heavens. It really can’t get any better than that.”

  “Trust me. We’ve only just begun.”

  Present Day

  Emma shook her head, trying to dispel the memories and focus on John. The heart monitor beat at a steady pace and he seemed to be sleeping soundly, as if her recalling their passion had reached him on some level and eased his mind. “You remember the music at our wedding, John?” she said softly.

  “He does,” said Jackson from behind her. Fearful, she turned to face him. Jesse, Jared and James were behind him. Had they called her sons because there was bad news back from a test? Jackson continued, “Whenever we’d be out working in the pasture and playing something wild on the truck’s radio, he’d pop in a tape and say, “You boys need to hear these songs. They’ll win you a woman one day. I swear I snagged Nan from her neurosurgeon boyfriend with ‘Baby I’m-A Want You.’”

  Emma forced a smile. “Why are all four of you back here so soon? What’s wrong?”

  “What’s right might be a better question to ask,” said Jesse.

  “Good hell, just tell her,” James exploded. “The good news is they don’t think Dad had a heart attack.”

  “But he is going to need an ICD. It’s a defibrillator planted inside him that will shock his heart back into rhythm should he develop a deadly arrhythmia again,” Jackson added.

  “He’s going to be back on his feet and home before Christmas,” Jared said.

  “Hopefully, he will be home by Christmas,” Jackson corrected.

  “What caused the arrhythmia in the first place?” Emma asked.

  Jackson moved to her side and slid his arm around her shoulders. “All the tests are pointing to pericarditis, an inflammation of the sac covering the heart. They’re still determining what caused it, but sometimes they just don’t know. They’ll need to finish doing his tests to see if it’s a bacterial infection, or if the irritation around his heart is causing a buildup of fluid. That would prolong his stay in the hospital and might require additional surgery. His EKG isn’t showing any signs of heart damage, so they’re going to cancel the therapeutic hypothermia and let him wake up. We thought we’d all be here when he does.”

  Emma shook her head and gave a teasing grin. “Seeing all four of you handsome devils grinning at him might make him wonder if
he took a detour.” Ignoring her sons’ protests, she went back to John’s side and reclaimed his hand. “We’ve only just begun our golden years,” she told him softly then whispered in his ear. “Trust me. You don’t want to miss what I have in mind.”

  John squeezed her hand tighter than before, and Emma knew he was on his way back to her.

  There were questions still to be answered, but the outlook was good.

  Chapter Nine

  Present Day

  Emma woke early on Christmas Day just to watch John sleeping next to her. He’d come home from the hospital last night. Idiopathic—a fancy word for unknown cause—pericarditis had been what precipitated his heart arrhythmia. They didn’t believe he’d have another episode, but still placed an Inplantable Cardioverter Defibrillator inside him because he’d proven susceptible to an arrhythmia. The device would deliver a strong electrical shock to his heart should a deadly arrhythmia occur. He was safe for now, if a little bit disgruntled. He had a long list of current do’s and don’ts and lifestyle changes to make.

  “I know that smile,” John mumbled sleepily. “You have it every time you end up being right. What are you thinking?”

  “Honestly? I was wondering if they could rig that defibrillator in you to deliver a minor shock every time you didn’t follow the new rules.”

  He looked outraged. “That’s…that’s just wrong, and I think you and the boys are making too big of a deal out of all this. I did not have a heart attack. There’s no heart damage.”

  “No. Not this time. And we’re going to do what we can to keep that from happening. Aren’t we?”

  “I’ll hire some part-time help for the heavy stuff.”

  “That’s a start.”

  “There’s more?”

  “How about hiring someone full-time for the farm? You remember all of those someday things? Someday we’ll go to Ireland. Someday we’ll take a cruise. Someday we’ll take an art lesson. Someday has arrived. We’ve worked hard raising our family. We’ve kept this farm together. Now I want us to focus on you and me. It’s our time.”

  John slid his palm to her cheek. “I didn’t know you weren’t happy, Em.”

  She placed her hand over his and brushed a kiss to his palm. “It’s not that, John. I am happy. How could I not be happy? I have the man I love at my side. I have four healthy, loving sons generally going in the right direction in life. I have grandsons to love on. But when I thought I’d lost you, I realized we hadn’t taken much time over the years for just fun things.”

  He slid his hand to her breast and flicked his thumb over her nipple. “We’ve had some fun.”

  “More than some.” She groaned and flopped onto her stomach so he couldn’t reach more of her. “Remember, no sex for at least a week. Not until we get the okay.”

  “What’s a man come to when his own son is telling him to abstain?” John muttered. “I draw the line at diapers, right now. If my sons start having to change my diapers, then I’m checking in at the Pearly Gates.”

  Emma rolled her eyes and decided not to argue with him. “You can derail the conversation any direction you want but I’m not going to lose track of the subject. Are you afraid to retire?”

  She studied his crystal blue gaze and saw the shadows hovering in his eyes.

  “Nothing ever gets by you,” John sighed. “Maybe I am, Em. If I don’t tend to the farm, what’s going to happen to it? The boys have their own lives now, and farming isn’t their passion. I can’t let it go. After getting out of LBJ and returning from Nam, you and this farm here were all I had, and all I needed or wanted.”

  LBJ, Long Bình Joint, the military prison John spent two months in as he awaited disciplinary action for abandoning his post to come after her had left a mark on John’s soul. Not because of any ill treatment but because of how damaged the war had left many of the men. There’d been so much controversy in the media of how out of control the soldiers in Nam were, going on killing sprees, drug use, going AWOL that they’d made an example of John. But by the time his court martial went to trial, he’d been found guilty of only a minor infringement and ironically given a medal for saving Emma.

  “I know, and I’m not asking you to sell the farm. One of our grandsons might decide it’s what he wants out of life. All I’m asking is for us to work less and play more. I think we can do that and keep the farm.”

  He exhaled with relief. “You know, I have been worried you wanted me to sell it so I avoided discussing the farm at all. If you had asked me to let it go, I would, just to make you happy.”

  “Having you with me and enjoying life together is what makes me happy. So it’s a deal then? You’re going to hire help here, stick to the do’s and don’ts, and we keep the farm?”

  John arched a brow. “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  He rolled in the bed, coming to a stop on top of her, pinning her down against the mattress. His erection was at full staff. He slid one hand to her breast and one hand to her sex, unerringly finding her nipple and hot spot immediately. “On how long I can’t have you. Any longer than a week and I’m breaking the rules, Em. Fair warning.” He sought her mouth for a kiss as he flicked her to a breathless orgasm in minutes. “Merry Christmas.”

  Emma exhaled an exhilarated and frustrated breath. “I don’t think that’s what the Good Lord had in mind. And you just broke the rules and you know it. No wonder our boys skirt every dangerous edge they come across.”

  John rolled away and smacked her bottom. “Just spreading the joy. Is there an apple pie on the menu today?”

  “Not if I don’t get into the kitchen. Everyone will be here by 1:00.”

  “Then let’s go peel some apples.” He got out of bed and Emma could swear he had a spring to his step that matched the relaxed smile on his face. Was it as simple as that? All of the underlying angst and John’s refusal to hire help over the past few years had boiled down to him fearing he’d have to sell the farm to make her happy? The things men could blow out of proportion in their minds were beyond her. But then she loved him even if he was bull stubborn and mule-assed. It was going to be an interesting phase in their lives. She got up to face Christmas with a heart filled with gratitude, joy, and hope.

  Three hours later chaos descended, and the family Christmas dinner was on. Little Jake decided he was too big to sit in a high chair and had to have his own “big boy” chair next to Jesse. So far Jesse had to save his son twice from taking a dive off the books beneath his antsy butt. Jason was completely absorbed in painting his high chair with mashed potatoes and gravy and Jackson did not look impressed with the artwork. Emma decided to remind Jackson later on just how creative he’d been with his messy diapers. Jared and James were arguing about a basketball team’s performance. Alexi and Rocky were talking about some charity event they’d been to. Nan was quiet, sending concerned glances at Jackson and then to John.

  Yet there was an underlying tension amid the cheer. Or perhaps apprehension would be a better word. John had almost died at their last gathering, and it was normal for that to be on everyone’s mind.

  John stood up, and everyone’s attention immediately shot to him. “Okay everyone. Y’all listen up. I’ve something to say. First, I can’t say enough how much I love each of you. I am proud to be the patriarch of this bunch, which if it wasn’t for your Ma wouldn’t here, nor as great. And even though we had a major scare, I’m going to do everything I can to assure I’m around for a long time yet. Your Mom and I plan on taking some time to do a few fun things together, so I’m going to be doing less on the farm. But I won’t be selling it either. This soil here is in my heart, and I’m going to find a way to hold on to all that is dear to me and welcome your ideas to make that happen. Now, you can all stop walking on eggshells and looking at me as if I’m going to kick the bucket any minute. If I feel the least bit under the weather, I’ll let everyone know. God has given us a blessed Christmas, so let’s enjoy it.”

  Everyone cheered, and a few wi
ped away a tear or two. Emma smiled her love John’s way. He’d kicked the hundred pound gorilla right out the door. After that, everyone relaxed.

  A short while later, as they were all gathered around the Christmas tree, with Jackson filling in for John by passing out the presents, the doorbell rang. Jake, running around with his Captain America action figure, flew towards the door and Alexi caught him before he could answer it. Foiled, Jake sent Captain America flying through the air. Rocky caught the missile before it hit her stained-glass lamp. Jason had fallen asleep in Nan’s lap—like father, like sons.

  “Anyone expecting company?” Emma asked, frowning. She got a collective no as she crossed the room. Perhaps it was carolers from the church choir, though Christmas Eve was their usual time singing. Peeking through the window, she saw three women with their arms full of packages. She didn’t recognize them. Maybe they were lost.

  She opened the door. Two blondes, one redhead. Two were younger, one a little older. They were all richly dressed and glamorous. “May I help you?”

  “Are you Emma Weldon?” asked the blonde girl with an unmistakable Irish accent.

  “Yes.”

  “Perfect. I’m Cierra Weldon. This is my cousin Fiona Devlin and my aunt Renee Devlin. Forgive me, but when I found out yesterday from my brother we’ve family here, I just had to fly down to meet you.”

  “Family?” Emma asked as she opened the door wider. “Are you sure you have the right person?”

  “I hope so. Are you the Emma Weldon who emailed my brother about our illustrious ancestor Lady Anne Weldon?”

  “I did. Good Lord! Come in. Come in. Where did you fly from?”

  The women stepped inside and Emma shut the door before a light breeze blew her over. She was completely shocked. With long blonde curly hair and vivid purple eyes, Cierra looked as vibrant as her personality. Whereas Fiona, with long red hair and eerie aqua eyes seemed like a cross between an angel and a fairy. Renee, who had shorter blonde hair, appeared too young to be Fiona’s mother.