Morgan gave Lily a nod and she chose two dresses that would make her look like a farmer’s wife without any trouble at all. The man behind the counter found a box in the back room for them to place their purchases in and Morgan tugged his new boots on before they left the store.
The box fit nicely in the boot of the buggy and he tied it firmly in place before he joined Lily on the seat. “Do you want to eat while we travel? Or should we stop somewhere?” he asked.
“Are we in a hurry?” She felt a longing for a brief time of peace, a few minutes of undiluted pleasure. An hour by the side of the road might provide that, she thought wistfully, sitting on the quilt and eating their simple meal with no thought of anything beyond the next minute.
Morgan looked fully in her face, his gaze touching her mouth and eyes, his demeanor softening as though he read her thoughts and contemplated granting her desire for the respite she craved. “Why don’t we have a picnic?” he asked, lifting the reins and turning the mare toward the road out of town.
“Can we?” She sighed the words, feeling foolish at the rush of happiness his offer brought into being. Spending an hour with Morgan, with nothing more to do than share their meal and perhaps speak of something other than the realities surrounding them was a joy to contemplate.
“Of course we can,” he said easily, and in moments the mare was trotting between the traces, her head bobbing in time to the gait she’d established. The road was smoother here, as though it was a familiar route to other wagons and buggies. “How about that bend up ahead? Looks like a neck of the river comes closer to the road.”
She sat forward on the seat, eager to espy the spot he’d designated. And there, before them, was a perfect place for the picnic he’d suggested.
Morgan pulled the buggy off the road, and it bounced through the glade until they reached the bank of the river. The horse cropped grass, Morgan easing the bit from her mouth, and he held his arms up to lift Lily from the seat. She slid down the front of him, aware of the hard body beneath his clothing, grateful for the strength in his hands and arms, and thankful that he did not cause her to linger there against him.
The man knew just how to please her, she decided, watching as he spread the quilt on the grass beneath a tree. The limbs spread wide above them, casting shadows on the river’s edge. Lily went to the back of the buggy and began to untie the rope that bound the box in place. Behind her, Morgan’s forearms reached on either side of her shoulders and solved the issue neatly, his long fingers releasing the knots he’d set in place. She looked over her shoulder at him and her mind went blank.
His eyes were dark, perhaps from the shade in which they stood, but that held no explanation for the taut line of his jaw or the ruddy streak that touched his high cheekbones. His nostrils flared as she watched, as though he’d searched for and found a scent that pleased him.
“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head and stepped back, allowing her to delve into the box to retrieve their meal. Her fingers trembled as she brought forth the packages, and he deftly took them from her. The bread and canned peaches were last, and then she found a quart jar of lemonade tucked into the bottom of the container.
“I didn’t see this in the store,” she said. “Is it really lemonade?” Three or four seeds swam in the pale golden liquid, and sugar lay in a thin layer on the bottom of the jar.
“Looks like it to me,” he told her. “I talked the proprietor’s wife out of it. She had a big pitcher at the back of the store, and I bought the Mason jar to hold it. We’ll have to share, though. I didn’t get an extra cup.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, delighted with the surprise. “My throat is dry. This will be wonderful.” She followed him around the buggy to where he’d spread the ground cover and sat on one side of the faded quilt. The food was easily accessible and she opened the packages quickly, then lifted the loaf of bread.
“I think we’ll have to tear off pieces,” she told him. “We don’t have a knife.”
“I have one,” he said, reaching in his pocket and drawing forth a jackknife, the blade of which was long enough to slice halfway through the loaf. “Probably not very sanitary, but it’ll work,” he said, taking a clean handkerchief from his pocket and wiping the blade as he spoke.
And it did work. The bread was sliced, the peaches were opened with the sturdy blade, and the contents fished out to lay on a piece of the waxed paper. Morgan sliced the cheese and cut the bologna in pieces, and soon they were looking down on a veritable feast. “This is wonderful,” Lily told him. “You’re a handy man to have around, Mr. Morgan.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he returned, doffing his hat in a gesture of mock courtesy. He placed it on the edge of the quilt and took up a piece of bread. “I haven’t had a picnic in years,” he said, and Lily thought she detected a note of wistfulness in his words.
“I haven’t, either,” she admitted. “Not since my mama invited the neighbors over after the cotton was harvested one year and we ate in the yard at big, long tables that my father and the men put together. Rather,” she amended, “the men sat at the tables and the women and children sat on blankets on the grass.”
“I’d have chosen to sit on the grass with you,” Morgan said idly, watching her as she bit into the sausage she held. “You eat with such gusto,” he told her. “I get a kick out of watching you.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re teasing again, aren’t you?” she accused him, to which he shook his head and frowned.
“Of course not. Would I tease my wife?”
She felt her heart slow its beat, knew a moment of insight, felt a rush of wonder as she heard his words. So simply, so easily he seduced her. She who had vowed to renounce any tie with a man, who had been badly bruised by male cruelty, was now halfway in love with a stranger she’d met only days since.
Yet it seemed he was not deliberately leading her into a seduction that would result only in the giving of her body into his keeping, but one in which she feared she would lose whatever fragile control she held over her heart. Morgan could steal her soul in this moment, for if he offered his hand, she would take it. If he bid her follow, she would rise and go where he led.
It was frightening. More than that, it was a harsh glimpse of what her future held when he completed the terms of their bargain and followed the rules she’d insisted on. If that’s what you want, I’ll walk away. She’d bid him repeat her terms, and he had. Without a murmur, with no pretense of begging her to change her mind, he’d agreed.
And now she knew in a heartbeat, in the instant when he smiled into her eyes, that life without Gage Morgan would be like a day without sunshine. So readily he’d crept into her heart, so easily he’d persuaded her to his will.
Now she lowered her eyes to the food she held on her lap, and her words were but a cover for the feelings running rampant within her breast. “Of course you’d tease me, if you thought you could get a rise out of me,” she said glibly. “But this time it won’t work, Gage Morgan. I’m too involved in my picnic meal to rise to the occasion.” A smile that was hard to come by curved her mouth, and she bent to the task of finishing the food that now tasted miserably akin to the paper it had been wrapped in.
He laughed at her gibe and leaned back on one elbow, propped up on his side to face her. “This was a good idea, Lily. We’ve been pushing hard today, and it’s gonna be a long ride to Sand Creek. Hard to say if we’ll find a decent place to stay tonight.”
Rolling to his back, he closed his eyes, his hands beneath his head. And then one eyelid lifted and he grinned at her. “Want to join me? Take a nap together?”
She shook her head. “No, one of us has to stay awake and keep a weather eye out.”
“We’re pretty safe for now, Lily,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t risk you by sleeping if I thought we were in danger here.”
“Well, I’ll just straighten things and walk down by the water while you nap,” she said. The ne
ed to be apart from him, if only for these few minutes, was pressing. She could smell the faint tang of soap he’d washed with this morning, knew the scent of his clothing, with its aroma of hay from the loft they’d slept in. His hair lay against his head, the waves more in evidence today without his usual dousing of water to keep them tamed.
In minutes, she’d repackaged the food and cleared up their picnic. After a quick glance that told her he was either asleep or making a good pretense at it, she rose from the quilt. It was but a short stroll to where the bank dropped off to the shallow inlet, and she made her way there, careful not to stand too close to the edge.
A school of minnows swirled before her, their tails moving in unison, as if they followed some unknown leader. And there, at the river’s edge, a frog leaped into the shallows and the minnows milled and circled, then swam as one for the safety to be found downstream. Across the small inlet, where the river’s narrow branch had made inroads on the landscape, a small animal came to the edge of the water, bending its head to drink.
Behind it, at the edge of the sparsely wooded area, a doe stood, her head lifted as if to scent for danger. Beside her, a smaller deer watched and waited. And then, with graceful steps the pair approached the water’s edge and drank. They ate with dainty relish the grass at their feet, the larger deer lifting her head, apparently to listen for danger.
Lily watched, intent on the small drama before her, hearing the chatter of a squirrel, the call of a hawk overhead. In the tree beneath which Lily stood, a smaller bird called out, and then, leaving the branch he’d perched on, flew low in a circle over her head, and with a flutter of wings landed on a branch directly above her.
“Do you have a nest up there?” she murmured, and smiled at her own foolishness. No doubt the creature was guarding his territory against invaders, and she must seem like a giant to the tiny, winged creature. She tilted her head back, looking upward through the branches, where shimmering sunlight dappled the leaves and filtered to the water before her.
“You look like the statue of a woman on the prow of a ship I saw one day on the East Coast.” From behind her, Morgan’s words caught her unaware and she spun in place, her eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, reaching to grip her arms, lest she fall into the water. “I just watched you here, with the breeze blowing your dress against your body, your hair tangled and curling over your shoulders, and I had to touch you.”
“Touch me?” She felt dazed, whether because of the sunlight glittering on the water, or the desire blazing from the eyes of the man who held her.
“Only a bit,” he said softly, persuasively. “Like this.” His head bent and he kissed her, a sweet, seeking union of lips that made her breath catch in her throat. His hands held her firmly, and it was fortunate, she thought, for her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. Her body softened, and she leaned forward until she was supported by the firm strength of the man.
“You draw me like a magnet, Lily.” He lifted his head and she felt the heat of his gaze, touching each increment of skin on her face, felt the beating of her heart in her throat and knew the wonder of being a woman. Of sensing her value through his eyes, of recognizing the power he gave her with his words.
“You’ve surely been with women more accomplished than I,” she whispered. “Women who know how to be with a man, how to please.”
“Have I?” he asked after a moment, as if he mused over the thought. “Maybe so. But right now I can’t remember any of them. I only see you, Lily.” He bent to her mouth again and this time he edged her lips open with his, nibbled on her and persuaded her to allow him full entry to the warm, dark place where his tongue sought out the secrets that tempted him.
She caught her breath, then reluctantly drew back and pressed her hands against his chest. “You flatter me, Morgan,” she said, feeling her lips tremble. With a deliberately casual air, she pressed them together and tilted her head to peer up at him. “I think you’re trying to get on my good side.”
“Do you have one?” he asked, joining the game. His fingers loosened their grip on her and moved to clasp behind her waist, swaying with her for a moment where they stood. He examined her face, bending to look at one side, then the other. “You look pretty good to me from either angle,” he told her, and she laughed aloud, pleased that he had so easily diffused the moment.
“You’ve managed to frighten the deer I was watching,” she told him, pointing across the inlet to where the small cove held not a trace of animal life. “I think our picnic is over,” she said, even as she regretted the end of this small respite, “and you didn’t even get your nap.”
“No, but I rested awhile.” He released her, they walked back to their picnic spot, and gathered up their things. “Here. You carry this and I’ll get the quilt,” he told her.
It was with a sense of sadness that Lily looked back at the spot as the mare jerked the buggy into motion. They set off at a smart pace, Morgan looking jaunty, she decided, with his hat set at an angle, and one foot propped on the front of the buggy. She settled back to enjoy the ride, in the back of her mind aware that it might be the last peaceful interlude they would share for some time to come.
It was a toss-up, Morgan decided. They needed to stop for the sake of the mare, yet it was probably only a few more miles to Sand Creek. The sun was setting rapidly, and he needed to make a decision. “Lily, I think we’d better plan on sleeping outdoors tonight,” he said, hoping she didn’t have her heart set on a genuine bed upon which to get a good night’s sleep.
“All right.” Her reply was quick and he was caught by surprise. The woman had taken him aback again. He’d thought to coax her, bribe her with some treat for tomorrow, and instead had been the recipient of a smile and instant agreement.
“Keep an eye out for a sheltered spot,” he said, slowing the mare to a walk. The trees surrounded them, the road they followed was narrow, and now he was on the lookout for an area that would hold some sort of solid protection behind them for the night. The land was a bit hilly, with rocky areas that might offer protection from the elements or the chance of strangers finding them vulnerable. It was with that in mind that he looked for a change in elevation through the trees.
And then Lily saw a spot first, touching his arm and pointing off to the left, where a miniature cliff rose from the ground, jutting out so as to offer a sheltered spot beneath its edge. “Look,” she said, “see that place over there?”
He nodded and swung the buggy into an opening between the trees, then jumped down from the seat and led the mare through the narrow passage to where Lily had designated they go. The shale formed layers of rock that had been tamed by long years of water running past, forming a cave of sorts beneath the overhang, and he eyed it with approval.
“I think this will work just fine,” he told her, coming back to lift her down. “I’ll tie the horse and give her a handful of oats, and then we’ll spread our quilt.”
By the time he’d settled the horse, stripping her from the harness and leading her to a spot where the grass was heavy, Lily had unloaded the things they would need for the night. She’d done a quick job of cleaning up the hollowed-out area and placed the quilt there, then brought their bags to be used as pillows again.
“Do you want to wash in the river?” Morgan asked her as she sat to take off her shoes and stockings. “It’s quiet and doesn’t look very deep.”
“I can’t swim,” she said, looking up to where the twilight had made inroads, leaving only a faint blush in the sky. “I think I’d be more comfortable in the daylight, when I can see better.”
He grinned at her. “That’ll work. I’ll be able to see better, too.”
“You have a mind that seems to be stuck in a rut,” she told him, sniffing her disapproval. She rose and looked to where the river formed a pool, a small inlet edged by trees at the waterline. “Maybe I could just wash piecemeal,” she suggested, “not get in all the way.”
“Whatever you want is all right
with me.” He planned on submerging his weary body in the water, scrubbing off the dust of the road and allowing the breeze to dry his body, no matter how primitive it might seem to Lily. “I have a shirt you can dry off with,” he offered. “It’s old, but clean.”
“You’re tempting me.” She bent her head and pulled her hair over her shoulder. “Will you undo me, please?”
It was to his credit that Morgan did not linger over the task, but did as she asked with a minimum of dithering. He watched as she shed the dress and the petticoat beneath it, and he handed her his extra shirt and a bar of soap, along with a bit of towel, just about large enough to wash with. “If you don’t take off your shift, you won’t have anything to sleep in,” he warned her.
“I thought of that already,” she said. “I’ll dry on the shift and sleep in your shirt. I have a spare in my bag. It’s old and almost threadbare, but it’ll do for one more wearing.” She walked gingerly through the grass to the edge of the water and then turned to look back at him. Her request was unspoken, her need for privacy understood, and he turned his back.
“If you need help, call me,” he said, wishing for a moment that his gentlemanly instincts were not so finely honed.
He heard her muffled intake of breath as she splashed at the edge of the water, then the gasp as she settled to the bottom. “It’s not very warm,” she told him, and he grinned. The better to make her amenable to his arms around her tonight, he thought, his gaze sweeping the surrounding area lest a stray animal should approach the water and frighten her.
She lasted about three minutes, and Morgan was not surprised when he heard her feet splashing through the shallows as she emerged. “I’m almost done,” she called to him. And then she appeared, his shirt wrapped around her, reaching her knees, the sleeves trailing past her fingertips. “Your turn,” she said, handing him the soap and cloth he’d given her to use, then placed her shift across a bush to dry.
The Marriage Agreement Page 11