“So it wouldn’t hurt this time?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe a little uncomfortable since it’s been a long time, but nothing like what you knew then. I promise, Ellie.”
“Did they teach you this stuff at school?”
“Some of it.”
“A bunch of men in suits sit around discussing this?”
“No, they assign reading material, then ask for questions.”
“Did anyone ask questions?”
“Not as many as you do.”
She laughed and lowered herself to his chest again, bringing her legs to twine with his. “How would I know if I was ready?”
“I could show you how to know.” And he explained arousal of both sexes to her, finding it the most erotic thing he’d ever done. He didn’t know how he’d survive if this was just a warm-up and she wasn’t ready to move forward.
But she seemed eager to experience all he’d just explained. She sat up and unbuttoned the tiny buttons at her throat and slipped her nightgown off over her head, watching his eyes, gauging his reaction.
Her breasts were full and lovely, with darkened nipples that stiffened when he feasted his gaze upon them. Her waist was narrow and her hips flared becomingly, but that was all he could see because of the way she knelt beside him.
She studied his face. Her gaze flickered to his hands. He read the message clearly. “Do you want me to touch you?”
She nodded.
“Show me where.”
She took his hands and brought them to her breasts. Her eyelids drifted closed as he cupped and tested the delicious weight of her, ran his fingers over her budded nipples.
She was lost to the magical sensations and the reactions of her body. Caleb forced himself to wait for her spoken or implied demands before he did the things he ached to do. And slowly, but surely, she showed him what she liked and requested more.
He held himself in rigid control, her enflaming touches and entreaties setting him on fire. If she wasn’t ready to go through with this, he would live, he assured himself. All that mattered was Ellie.
Ellie.
Ellie was consumed with her need for this man. She loved him with every ounce of her flesh and wanted to show him—wanted to be whole and complete within his love. His words and his patient tutoring gave her a newfound courage and confidence that made her head light and her body tingle. With him she felt so beautiful, so good and so right. Love made the difference. Loving him and knowing he loved her in return.
She wanted to consume him. She wanted to envelop him. She wanted to have that elusive something that would bind them as surely and as securely as she desired.
“Now, Caleb,” she pleaded. “Will you take me now?”
Chapter Eighteen
She expected him to turn and pull her beneath him. Instead, he took care of the promise he’d made, then urged her astride, his eyes adoring her body and adding to all those signs he’d told her would prove she was ready. “You do it, Ellie.”
“I can’t…I don’t…”
“I’ll show you. Easy. Like this.”
“Oh, my…”
“Stop if it hurts.” Passion showed on his face and made his body tremble. His guiding hands were sure, but gentle as always.
“Oh, Caleb…”
“Does it hurt?”
“No-o.” The word slipped out as whispered pleasure. “I didn’t think…I didn’t know….”
“You don’t have to think.” He urged her with his words and his body. “Just enjoy. Take your pleasure, Ellie.”
She did, losing every last shred of self-consciousness and doubt at the indulgence and love that she read in his eyes. He had explained each physical detail, so she would understand and not fear. But he hadn’t been able to explain the wonder and the passion…the love…. She wanted to weep with the beauty of it. She was going to cry.
“Ellie, my sweet, what’s wrong? Stop if you want.”
“No. I don’t know. You didn’t tell me it would be this way.”
He brought his hand to cup her cheek. “What way? What’s wrong? Just tell me.”
“It’s…” She dropped her head to his chest. “It’s too good…it’s too hard…it’s frustrating.” Her body quivered beneath his hands.
He chuckled. “Trust me?”
She raised her head and nodded. He kissed her until her toes curled. Reaching between their bodies he touched her until she gasped, then he took hold of her hips, and as she welcomed that demanding, firm grasp, he guided her—raising her body until they nearly lost contact—and then pulling her back down against him with rapturous jolts.
Waves of sensation throbbed from the center of her being outward, pleasure as intense as any pain she’d ever known, as all-consuming and severe as she’d needed to make her understand—to make her forget—to make her new.
Caleb’s body convulsed in shudders as hers had, and he loosened his grasp on her hips and stroked her thighs gently. His skin glowed damp, his chest heaved with exertion.
Ellie collapsed forward, her legs trembling, and rested against him. He brought his arms around her for the first time, and she relished his embrace.
He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her. “I love you, Ellie.”
“I believe you do. And I’ll never let you stop telling me…or showing me.”
He shifted her to his side and they lay in each other’s arms while their breathing slowed and their bodies cooled.
“So.” He drew circles on her shoulder with his finger and spoke against her hair. “You didn’t say. Did you like it?”
She pulled away and looked into his smiling eyes. “Did you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
They laughed and hugged. And laughed and hugged a few more times before they fell into exhausted slumber.
“I have a surprise for you.” Caleb had dropped the boys at school and returned home.
“I like your surprises more and more all the time.” She moved into his arms and gazed up at him.
He kissed her indulgently, then drew away and held her at arm’s length. “You’re going to have your clothes on for this surprise, so let’s get going. I told Mrs. Swensen we’d drop Nate off early.”
Ellie smoothed her hair and her skirt. “Goodness. What have you planned this time?”
“You’ll see. Come on. I’ll get his things. Grab your coat.”
Ellie bundled Nate in his cap and jacket and Caleb ushered them to the buggy. A few minutes later she kissed the baby goodbye and waved to the Swensens. “I think she’s practicing to have one of her own,” Caleb said with a sidelong smile.
He flicked the reins and headed away from the grocery.
“They’re going to have a baby?”
“Well, she made an appointment for next week, so I can’t say for sure yet, but she has that look about her.”
Ellie considered the Swensens for a few minutes, imagining the prospect of having a baby with someone you loved. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
He’d headed toward Florence, and thinking that might be their destination, her stomach fluttered nervously. The closer they came, the more apprehensive she grew. “Are we going to Florence?”
“Yes.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Caleb, people will recognize me there.”
“Maybe. If they do, they’ll see that you have a husband who loves you now.”
She’d been worried about his reputation. He obviously didn’t think the fact that he’d married a Foster would reflect badly upon him. Or he didn’t care.
“This town is my past,” she said finally.
“Yes,” he agreed. “You’re right. But there’s one part of your past that still needs to be resolved.”
Winston was dead. Caleb had taught her the beauty of physical love. Her body still tingled with the fulfillment and pleasure they’d given each other. The only remaining memory that still had the power to hurt was—
Ellie grasped the edge of the s
eat. “Caleb, where are you taking me? What are you doing?”
“We’re going to visit the Mastersons. I wrote first. Then I came and spoke with them in person. They had a few concerns, but they welcome the opportunity to meet you and discuss them. And they have some things they want to tell you.”
Ellie’s heart tripped painfully. She grabbed his arm. “I can’t do this! What were you thinking?”
He slowed the buggy just outside Florence. “I was thinking that you’ve spent years torturing yourself over whether or not you did the right thing. And if I’m guessing correctly, you’ve spent that time wondering whether to love or hate a child who was created under such horrible circumstances.”
Ellie flushed beneath the piercing truth of his words and drew her hand back to her lap.
“I was thinking that you’ve put the rest of your childhood behind you. This needs to be opened and cleaned out, too. Like infection drawn from a wound.”
She would have laughed at that physician’s analogy if she hadn’t been terrified to the tips of her toes.
She clutched her reticule. “What do they think of me?”
“They think you were very brave. And they want to tell you what you’ve done for them.”
She studied the buildings that lay ahead. She did wonder if she’d done the right thing. She’d never dreamed she would be able to know. She hadn’t wanted to know if she’d done the wrong thing. But Caleb wouldn’t take her there to show her something that would make her unhappy. His surprise was obviously a good one.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re always right, you know. Don’t let it go to your head.”
He drove the horses onward and pulled up to the house Ellie remembered. A scattering of fall flowers bloomed near the porch and the rosebushes beneath shuttered windows had been clipped back. In the side yard a tire swing hung from a gnarled oak tree. “They know we’re coming?”
He nodded and tied the reins. “Mr. Masterson works at the rail station, but he stayed home this morning for your visit.”
“Caleb, I’m scared.”
“I know. But not any more scared than you were that night you threw a rock at their window.”
She drew a fortifying breath. “No.”
He clasped her cold hands and brought them to his lips. She gave him a feeble smile. He came around and lifted her to the ground, then held her hand as they walked through a gate and up to the house.
Children’s voices reached them from somewhere inside, and suddenly Ellie couldn’t wait to see the little girl—her little girl. She stepped forward, lifted the brass knocker and rapped it against the wood.
The door opened immediately. A small, dark-haired woman with freckles sprinkled liberally across her face and neck opened the door. A genuine smile of pleasure and recognition revealed small even teeth and charming dimples. Tears glistened in her wide gray eyes.
“Dr. and Mrs. Chaney,” she said. “Please come in.”
They entered a small foyer, and she led them to a sitting room with nice, but well-used furniture. Ellie sat on a divan with Caleb beside her, and Mrs. Masterson seated herself on the edge of a chair so her knees almost touched Ellie’s.
She leaned forward. “Mrs. Chaney—”
“My name is Ellie.”
“Ellie. Please call me Marissa. You don’t know how pleased we are that you’ve come.”
A man entered the room. He was as tall as Caleb, but more slender, with chestnut-brown hair that lay in waves against his head.
“This is my husband, Jack.”
“How do you do?” Ellie shook his hand. “I’m Ellie.”
“Your husband told us you were very young when you had Mary Michael,” Marissa said.
She grasped the first bit of information eagerly and stored it away like a treasure. “Is that her name?”
The woman nodded. “Yes.”
Ellie ran the name through her mind a few times.
“Did you know we’d lost a child?”
Ellie nodded. “I’d heard someone in town talking about it.” It had probably been someone outside a saloon, but she didn’t mention that.
“A little boy only a few months old,” Marissa clarified. “At first—when I saw the bundle on the porch—I thought someone had played a cruel joke on us. I didn’t realize it was a real baby for a few minutes. Jack picked her up and she moved. I was so confused. I was going to make him take the baby to the sheriff, but she was so tiny and helpless. I realized right then that she was a gift—from heaven. From you.”
Ellie’s throat grew thick with tears. “You loved her?”
“We love her very much,” Marissa said, choking back tears of her own. “So many times I have wanted to thank you. To tell you that your trust in us was valid and that we welcomed her. She has been such a joy. I can never thank you enough.”
A remarkable solace settled over Ellie. She glanced at Caleb and he smiled encouragingly.
Marissa placed her hand over Ellie’s, and Ellie clasped it in both of hers.
“We sure have wondered,” Jack said and cleared his throat, “about you.”
Ellie looked into Marissa’s eyes. “I was fourteen years old with no food and no money. I couldn’t keep her. I was frightened and I didn’t know what else to do. I have wondered all these years, too…if I’d done the right thing.”
Marissa’s gray eyes darkened. “Your husband said seeing her and talking to us would set your fears at ease. But, well, we’re a little worried now that—that you might want to take her away from us.”
Ellie’s heart went out to this woman who had raised her child. “Oh, no,” she said, clasping her hand tightly. “I wouldn’t do that to her—to you. You’re her family. Family is everything.”
Marissa smiled through her tears. “You can see her anytime you like. Someday, when she’s old enough to understand—or to wonder—we wouldn’t mind if she knows the truth about who you are.”
“I’m not prepared for someday yet,” Ellie told her honestly. “But I would like to see her now.”
“Girls!” Jack called over his shoulder. “Come greet our guests.”
Two girls skipped into the parlor, both dressed in ruffled pinafores and dainty black boots, both wearing their hair in braids.
The smallest of the two had freckles scattered over her nose and two dimples winked playfully when she smiled. Her intelligent eyes were wide and gray.
The taller of the two had delicate ivory skin, hair a shade darker, and finely cut features. A fringe of dark lashes surrounded pansy-dark eyes, which were an astonishing and familiar shade of violet.
“This is Dr. and Mrs. Chaney from Newton,” Marissa said.
“Is somebody sick, Daddy?” the older girl asked, her abashingly lovely eyes widening. She moved a little closer to…Jack…her father. Her daddy. He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close. “No, darling. They’ve just come to visit.”
“Oh.” She smiled shyly. “Pleased to meet you.”
Tears stung Ellie’s eyes. “I’m pleased to meet you, too. Mary Michael?”
The enchanting child nodded.
“This is Nancy.” Marissa tapped the daughter she’d indicated on the shoulder.
“Pleased to meet you,” Nancy said at the prompting, then huddled against her mother’s skirts.
Ellie absorbed all the enlightenment she could hold. Her child was healthy and well dressed, obviously well cared for and secure within her family. She had two parents…and a sister.
She had everything Ellie had ever hoped for her to have. She had everything Ellie had craved for herself and for her brothers. “You are such pretty girls,” she said. “Do you go to school?”
Mary Michael replied, and the sisters vied for attention, relating stories of their classmates and occasionally running into another room to bring something one of them had made to show their visitors.
Ellie looked at the plaster-of-paris molds each had made in Sunday school. She allowed her fingers to trail over the imprint of Ma
ry Michael’s hand.
“Perhaps you’d like to give those to the Chaneys,” Marissa said. “I’ll bet they don’t have anything quite like them.”
Ellie met the woman’s kind gray eyes and recognized a love and an unselfishness she would never have appreciated before Caleb had taught her that it existed in the world. The gesture touched Ellie and meant more than these girls could imagine. Maybe someday…
“I’d like that very much,” she said in a throaty voice. “That is if you girls could bear to part with them.”
“We can make more,” Nancy said.
Mary Michael agreed.
Jack brought paper and Ellie wrapped them carefully.
Marissa brewed tea and served it from a silver service. She and Jack and Caleb sipped the sweetened refreshment, but Ellie drank in the reassuring details of Mary Michael’s life.
The girl became so at ease with Ellie that she invited her upstairs to see the room she shared with Nancy.
“If it’s all right with your parents?” Ellie raised a brow.
“Of course,” Marissa supplied.
“I’ll show you, too,” Nancy piped up.
“But you were going to show Dr. Chaney how you play your scales, weren’t you?” her mother asked, distracting her.
“Oh, yes!” She reached for Caleb’s hand and drew him over to the upright piano beneath a leaded-glass window.
Ellie followed Mary Michael upstairs and admired the cheerful room. A patchwork quilt in various shades of yellow covered the feather bed. Bright curtains matched the ruffle on the edge of the quilt.
A row of dolls lined a window seat, and the window overlooked the side yard. Ellie listened to the child tell her each doll’s name and something about the birthday or Christmas when she’d received it. From beneath the bed, she drew a flat case that held changes of clothing—for the dolls!
Ellie fingered the tiny garments in awe. “Your mother made these?”
Mary Michael nodded.
It couldn’t have been chance that had drawn Ellie to this house that night so long ago. It had to have been divine guidance. This child had grown up secure and loved in a warm home with attention and food and the good things all children deserved. The things Ellie had never known and had tried to give her baby.
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