“I’ll talk to him,” Samantha pleaded when her neighbors were resting around a small campfire and she and Jake had walked out of earshot. “Maybe he’ll listen to me.”
“And do what?” Jake turned and cradled her shoulders. “Give me a reprimand and say it better not happen again.” He shook his head. “Hell, Samantha, that’s the best that can happen.” He lowered his voice. “I can’t live like that. I was leaving anyway. Now I know you really are safe.” He let his hands drop.
Dawn was just breaking across the Missouri countryside and he expected to see a column of bluecoats coming up the road any minute.
“Where will you go?” She shouldn’t question him, Samantha knew that. He was leaving and there was nothing she could do about it. But oh, it was hard.
“I don’t know.” Jake untied his horse.
“Jake.” She rushed into his arms and returned the kiss he gave her with all the passion she could. With all the love and desire she felt for him. He held her close a moment longer, then moved away.
Without another word, he mounted and rode out of her life.
Chapter Twenty
Last night’s frost clung to the browned blades of grass growing by the porch steps. Samantha wrapped her shawl more tightly about her shoulders and scattered the grain in a wide, graceful arc. The chickens flocked around their feed and Samantha stood watching them fluster and peck about, her mind far away.
But soon the creeping morning chill coupled with the warmth promised by the smoking stove pipe enticed her inside. She shivered, then moved toward the stove after hanging up her wrap. Holding out her hands, Samantha waited for the heat radiating from the iron surface to warm her.
But she didn’t think it would do any good.
She was empty inside, and cold. And nothing, not the extra quilt at night, or the late autumn sunshine that seemed to warm everything around her, did any good.
Samantha sighed as she brewed herself some tea. Another futile attempt to escape the chill inside her. Today she’d do laundry and clean out the cabin.
Maybe if there was daylight left after that, she’d black the stove, and then maybe...
Samantha sipped her drink and paused. There was only so much a body could do in one day, even if they were trying to stay busy. And that was definitely what Samantha was doing. Trying to keep herself so busy that she had no time to think.
“Sam!”
Will’s voice made her glance toward the door moments before her brother and Charity blustered in. The splints were off his leg, and each day he favored it less. Will set his pail of frothy milk on the dry sink and shrugged out of his jacket. “Looks good,” he said before pulling out a chair and settling down at the table for breakfast.
He scooped a forkful of fried potatoes into his mouth. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
Samantha sat across from him. “I had something earlier!” Not a complete lie, Samantha assured herself. She’d munched on a slice of toasted bread.
Her appetite was gone too.
At first she thought her change in eating habits a result of being with child. It was possible, after all. More than possible, Samantha admitted. And she was pleased at the prospect of having Jake’s child.
Not that it would have been easy... for any of them.
But as it turned out, there would be no child. It was not Jake’s baby but the lack of Jake that took away her appetite and the warmth from her life.
“You sure you don’t want to come along? Loni Nelson said she’d love to see you.”
Samantha looked at Will through the steam rising from her cup. “No, thanks anyway, Will, but I have some things to do.”
“You can’t just stay by yourself all the time, Sam. I miss him too, but—”
Samantha pushed out her chair. “If you’re going to spend the day with the Nelsons, you should get started. I baked you a couple pies to take along.” She settled the pastries into a basket and handed it to Will, adding with a smile on her face, “Have a good time.”
“Sam.” Will drew her name out. He looked at her, his freckle-faced expression one of pity. Pity Samantha couldn’t stand.
She faced him, hands on hips. “What, Will? What would you have me do that I haven’t? Take the corn to be milled?” She’d seen that done. “Fix your meals or mend your clothes?” He couldn’t deny she did those things, or anything else that needed to be done. “Well, Will, what do you want from me?”
“Only to see you happy,” came his quiet reply, and Samantha turned away before Will saw the tears well in her eyes.
Will must have sensed her distress. He picked up the basket and, after giving Samantha’s shoulders an awkward squeeze, grabbed up his coat and reached for the latch. “You going to be all right here alone?”
Samantha blinked back her tears and turned toward her brother, a smile on her face. “Of course, I am.” She settled a kiss on her brother’s cheek. “You have a good time and be home before dark.”
“Aw, Sam.”
“Don’t ‘Aw, Sam’ me, William Lowery.” They were back on familiar ground again and Samantha was pleased that they could tease each other and laugh.
But when she stood on the porch watching him ride away on Pru, his jacket collar turned up under his ears and the basket propped precariously in his lap, she couldn’t help the loneliness that swept over her.
She shook her head and went back in the house, deciding to finish her tea before hauling water up from the creek. But she wasn’t going to sit around and sulk. What she’d said to Will was true. From the very first after Jake had left, she’d accomplished everything that needed to be done.
There were no self-indulgent pouts for her. Will was the one who had to be coaxed out of his surliness... reminded the corn harvest wasn’t complete. He railed against Jake. Then he switched tactics and blamed Samantha for his friend’s leaving. “If you’d asked him to stay...” Will had said. And Samantha had reminded her brother of Lieutenant Farrow’s order about Jake leaving the area.
“Yes, but if you’d—”
“Stop it, Will,” she finally said. “He’s gone and there’s nothing either of us can do about it.”
Will had grumped around a few more days. Then because there was work to be done, and because for the first time since her father died, the neighbors had come to help, he snapped out of it.
Will seemed to be over the worst of his disappointment about Jake leaving. Oh, he still talked about his friend, wondering what Jake was doing now, where he was. And he practiced on the harmonica constantly.
Jake had given it to Samantha for Will before he rode away. Something to remember him by.
But where Will had something tangible, Samantha had only memories and the awful suspicion that maybe she could have done something so that she’d still be with Jake.
Pushing away from the table, Samantha carried her cup to the dry sink. She was not going to succumb to melancholy. She hadn’t asked him to stay. She hadn’t begged Jake to take her along. And that was that.
If she knew where he was, maybe she’d do something about it. But she didn’t. Texas was a big place. And life went on. Her shoulders squared, her chin raised, Samantha reached for the bucket.
The footsteps on the porch scared her all the more because she hadn’t noticed anyone riding up. Instinct made her grab for the musket over the mantle. She aimed it toward the door just as someone lifted the latch. Samantha’s heart thudded and her palms were damp.
The door swung open.
“Good Lord, Samantha! You’re not going to shoot me again, are you?”
“Jake!” She lowered the gun and her hand fluttered to her throat.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Samantha looked as if she’d seen a ghost and he guessed he was about the last person she expected to see come through her door. Hell, this was the last place he expected to be again. That was till about a week ago.
At the time he was heading south, down through Texas, thinking he’d left Samantha Lowery in his past...
where she belonged.
“May I come in?” Jake finally asked after he’d stood in her doorway for what seemed like forever. Not that he really minded because it was wonderful just seeing her again. Her golden hair was brushed back and caught in a blue ribbon that matched her eyes. Eyes he’d seen in every cerulean sky since he rode away.
But as much as he enjoyed studying her, her short, straight nose, the full bow of her bottom lip, the peach perfection of her silky skin, he hadn’t backtracked all this way just to look.
“Oh.” Samantha finally found her voice. “Oh yes, come in.” She set the musket back over the mantle. “Have you eaten breakfast? Are you hungry?”
“No and no.” Jake removed his hat, combing fingers back through his hair. When he noticed her lift her brow in question, he explained, “No, I haven’t eaten. But I’m not hungry either.”
This last statement caused her brow to arch higher. Jake chuckled. “I guess you have a hard time believing that, don’t you?”
“That you’re not hungry?” Samantha smiled. “It is a bit unusual.”
Jake couldn’t agree more. But when he’d risen at dawn to finish the last leg of his journey back, food had been the farthest thing from his mind. It still was.
“How about some coffee, then... or tea. I could just—”
“No, nothing.” Jake measured his hands around the battered brim of his felt hat. Now that he was here, he was nervous. “Do you suppose we could talk some?” Talking wasn’t really what he wanted to do either. But she wasn’t exactly throwing herself into his arms like she did in all the dreams he’d had about this moment.
“Talk?” Samantha realized she sounded like she didn’t understand the meaning of the word. She nodded, her hand indicating the table. “Of course,” she answered calmly, though her mind was racing. Now was her chance to say all the things she hadn’t said to him before. But first she’d find out what he was doing here.
“Didn’t you like Texas?”
Jake sat down across the corner of the table from her. He was close enough to smell her fragrance, a scent that had haunted him for the long weeks he’d been gone. “It was all right. Big,” he added. “But I didn’t get down to the southeastern part.”
“You didn’t?” Samantha realized she was staring and tried to look away. But she couldn’t. He was so handsome. His skin was tanned from the sun and that made his eyes look all the more clear, like the creek on a spring day.
“I ran into a wagon of settlers heading west. One of the boys had been accidentally shot while he and his brothers were hunting.” Jake glanced down at his hands, then back up at Samantha. “I stayed with them awhile.”
Samantha nodded, trying not to smile. “Is he all right?”
“The boy? Yeah, he’s fine... Anyway, when I left the Harrisons—that was their name—I started back to Kansas.”
“Why?” Samantha’s heart was pounding, and when her head felt light, she remembered to breathe.
Jake gathered Samantha’s hands in his. They were cold and he smiled, thinking how he’d enjoy warming her up. “Samantha,” he began. “I’ve made some mistakes in my life. And I’ve blamed myself for some that were beyond my control.” He took a deep breath, not at all sure how she’d feel about what he had to say next. “But the biggest mistake I ever made was leaving here.”
“We’re doing all right, you know, Will and I.” It suddenly occurred to her that he might feel responsible for their well-being. He had before. He’d stayed when he wanted to move on because he thought she and Will needed him. And he was a caring man. She knew that about him.
“I’m glad for you,” Jake said, hoping it was the truth. He couldn’t help feeling a little put out that she didn’t seem to need him anymore.
“Yes. Seth Nelson organized some neighbors to assist with getting our corn to the mill.” Her voice trailed off. “Everyone’s been wonderful.”
“Does that everyone include Lieutenant Farrow?” The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He sounded jealous—the last thing he wanted to do. And by the confused expression on her face, she noticed it.
Jake didn’t know what he expected from his return—hell, yes he did. He expected... wanted her to fall in his arms and tell him how much she’d missed him. That she couldn’t live without him. Because, damnit, that’s how he felt about her.
But she just sat there looking fit and content.
“Well, yes.” Samantha carefully measured her words, knowing Jake’s dislike of Farrow. “He took charge of transporting Moore’s men to Fort Scott for trial.”
“Does his assistance include calling on you?” There he went again. He just couldn’t seem to keep quiet. But while he was riding all over the damn country, Farrow had been here courting Samantha.
“He’s called a few times, but—Where do you think you’re going?” Samantha rose and flung herself at the door before Jake could get to it.
Jake took a step back, surprised at her quick movement and her question. Her eyes were large and very blue. And her chest beneath the plain calico gown heaved with each breath. Jake pulled his gaze away and rubbed his jaw. “I think I should get going.”
“Back to Texas?” Samantha didn’t budge an inch.
“I suppose.” She seemed to be blocking the door. “You all seem to be getting on fine without me.”
There was getting on and there was getting on. “Will misses you terrible. He hasn’t let the harmonica out of his sight since you left.”
“I miss him too. He’s a fine boy.” Moments stretched on as Samantha looked at Jake and Jake looked at her. He could feel the tension in the air, almost like the time he interrupted her bath. But, of course, this was different. They were both dressed, for one thing. And for another, he wasn’t going to carry her off to bed no matter how much he craved her.
If Farrow was courting her, it should be Farrow taking her to bed... after he married her, of course. Jake gritted his teeth and the crease between his brows deepened. Damnit, he couldn’t stand the thought of Farrow—or anyone else—touching her.
“Samantha—”
“Jake—”
They spoke simultaneously, as if on cue, and politely stopped with as much precision.
“You go ahead,” Jake offered gallantly.
“No you,” Samantha countered.
Jake took a deep breath. Damn, he hated feeling nervous like this. Not knowing how Samantha would take what he was about to say.
It had been different with Lydia. They had known each other since childhood. There was never any doubt that they’d marry. But this... If Samantha had fallen for the lieutenant—which she had every right to do, even though Farrow was an arrogant son of a hitch—then there was nothing Jake could do. And he’d have to go on without her.
When faced with that alternative, pride seemed foolish. He stared into her clear blue eyes. “I came back because of you.”
“You did?” Samantha felt a smile form on her lips.
“Yes.” Jake swiped his palm across his chin. “Damnit, Samantha, I love you. I know you might not feel the same, but—”
Samantha’s mouth against his cut off the rest of what he planned to say. And the way she threw her body into his, he quickly forgot what it was.
Her arms were around his neck, his clasping her to him. Samantha breathed in his scent and showed him by her actions that she felt the same way about him. Their kiss was slow and deep and it was a long time before they separated. When they did, Jake’s grin matched Samantha’s.
“So what are you trying to say here?” Jake ran his hands along the length of her spine.
“I love you, too,” Samantha whispered, tugging his head down for another kiss. “I thought you were gone forever and I missed you so much.”
His lips brushed along her cheek and across her jaw. “I couldn’t stay away.” His breath fluttered the pale curls behind her ear. Then his mouth was again on hers, devouring her, melting her in his arms... flooding her with heat.
&nbs
p; Desire raged through him. Jake cupped her breast, shaping the soft mound through her clothes. The nipple tightened and her soft moans scorched his blood.
“Oh, Jake. Jake.” Her plea was a siren’s song, one he wanted with all his heart to follow. But he’d ridden hundreds of miles to ask her a question. He pulled away, his breath catching as her lashes lifted and he saw her passion filled eyes.
“We need... to talk.” He could barely get the words out and she writhed against his lower body. He didn’t hesitate when she grabbed his hand and led him toward her bedroom.
“We can talk later,” she said, then smiled broadly when he scooped her into his arms.
Undressing her was magic.
Each new expanse of flesh he revealed to the golden sunlight streaming through the window was beautiful, and begged to be kissed. His tongue wet the base of her neck as he stripped the dress from her shoulders. When her breasts were free, he sat on the edge of the bedstead and pulled her into the V of his thighs.
She braided her fingers deep into the rough silk of his hair and he suckled her nipples. Samantha’s back arched, offering herself more completely as his large hands rode the crest of her hips.
Her moans were as uncontrollable as the undulating waves of her body when he tugged free the bow of her pantaloons and skimmed them down her legs. His breath sighed across the tight curls at the apex of her thighs and Samantha’s knees folded.
But before she could fall, Jake hauled her to him. His rough clothing rasped across her tender skin in a motion she found wildly erotic. Still she longed to feel the heat of his skin slide along hers.
As if he’d read her mind, Jake settled Samantha on the faded quilt and tore at his own clothes. When he stood before her bold and powerful, splendid in his readiness, Samantha opened her arms and he followed her down on the mattress.
He cupped her head between his hands and Samantha looked up into the impassioned intensity of his gaze. “I love you so much,” he said, and plunged into her moist heat.
She wanted to return the words, but the next moment he thrust deeper and Samantha’s legs wrapped about his hips. She couldn’t speak, could barely think as his movements quickened.
Christine Dorsey Page 31