The Frasers Clay

by Ana Leigh

  Already weakned by her own desire she said, “I can’t, because it wouldn’t be true. I do want you to make love to me, though I know I shouldn’t.”

  His mouth claimed hers and her desire blazed higher. She flung her arms around his neck, matching his passion with her own.

  Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her higher and she locked her legs around his hips.

  The thrill of her arousal coursed through her, incinerating any reservations. Flesh on flesh, she clung to him, burningly aware of every spot where their bodies touched.

  His warm palms cupped her rear and lifted her higher until his mouth found her breasts and teased the sensitive nipples to aching peaks; then he cut off her moans of ecstasy with a kiss filled with urgency, desperation, demand. His masterful tongue set her aflame, and she dug her fingers into the corded sinew of his shoulders for support as she began to tremble. Then he drove into her—and she lost all awareness of time or place. She matched her rhythm to his thrusts as his tempo increased; the escalating mindlessness soared; and their bodies shuddered in the divine release of climax.

  He lowered her to her feet, but she couldn’t stand, so he swept her up in his arms. Abandoning his drawers and her chemise, he carried her back through the waterfall and onto the riverbank.

  While Clay pulled on his Levi’s, Rebecca quickly put on her gown and slipped into her drawers. Then they sat in the warm sunshine to dry their damp bodies and hair.

  “You know as well as I, Clay, that it was a mistake,” she said regretfully.

  “I’m not sorry it happened. Why should I feel guilt or regret over being intimate with my wife? It’s part of a husband’s— and a wife’s—obligations, and we both enjoyed it.

  “Besides, the damage was done when we made love in the cabin. An annulment is out of reach now Becky.”

  Obligation? She was damn tired of being seen that way. She started to put on her shoes and stockings. “But a divorce isn’t out of reach, Clay—and that’s what I intend to do in Sacramento.

  “We both have plans to go our separate ways, and an involvement would just make it harder when we part.” She stalked away.

  “ If we part, Mrs. Fraser.” Rising to his feet, Clay followed her.

  The discovery of gold nearby in ’49 had turned the once-tiny town of Sacramento into a bustling city whose growth could not be slowed by even three floods and a devastating fire. It became the state capital five years later.

  As they drove through the city, seeing the people dodging the flow of carriages and wagons, brick buildings three and four stories high, sidewalks, paved thoroughfares, lampposts, hotels, restaurants, and merchant stores, made Rebecca yearn to jump off the wagon and run from store to store, just to peer into the windows.

  Scotty led the train to the stockyards, where everyone would be saying their good-byes. The Garson and Davis families were headed farther southeast, to locate the parcel of land on which they would build their future. Howard Garson had offered to buy Clementine and the two chickens, but Rebecca wouldn’t take his money. She was satisfied just to know that someone she trusted would take good care of the animals.

  After a tearful farewell to Etta and Tom, and their promise to write to her as soon as they got situated, Rebecca said goodbye to Clementine, Katharina, and Lady MacBeth.

  “How does she know which chicken is which? They look alike to me,” Garth said as he and Clay watched Rebecca’s sorrowful parting with the chickens.

  “I once asked her the same thing, and she said that since parents can tell their twins apart, why wouldn’t she be able to tell the hens apart?”

  “How long you figure she’s going to stand there, watching them wagons pull away? We’ve got a lot to do.”

  “You want to go and tell her that, Little Brother?” Clay said.

  “She’s your wife, Brother Clay.”

  Mike Scott came over and shook hands. “You boys were a big help on this trip. Don’t know what I’d have done without you. Once you find your sister, if you decide to go back East, I’ll be pulling out of here in a week. I figure we can get across the mountains before the snow starts to fall. You boys are welcome to join us.”

  “Can’t make any promises right now, Scotty,” Garth said. “We’ve got to settle this business with our sister, and I’ve been thinking of staying in California for a while.”

  “What are your plans, Clay? You and your wife staying in Sacramento, or are you planning a real honeymoon somewhere else?”

  “I don’t know yet; there are several matters to settle here. I think we’ll be sticking around for a while, but I’ll let you know.”

  “You plan on selling your wagon, Clay?” Scotty asked.

  “I imagine so. There’s no use for it here in the city.”

  “I was looking it over, and it’s still in damn good condition. I’ll take the team and wagon off your hands for five hundred dollars. If you decide to head back East with us, I’ll sell it back to you for what I bought it for.”

  “I heard that,” Becky said, joining them. “I paid seven hundred dollars for that wagon and team.”

  “Mrs. Fraser, the team and wagon have deteriorated since you bought them.”

  “Some would consider the team is better trained now, sir,” Rebecca countered in defense of her beloved mules.

  “Five hundred’s my top price. I’ll throw in another hundred dollars for whatever utensils and supplies you want to get rid of.”

  “Far as I know, we’ll want to sell everything,” Clay said. “Right, Becky?”

  “I haven’t thought about it yet, but I suppose you’re right. I really won’t have much use for most of that here in the city. And you’re never going to get me in a covered wagon again.”

  “Well, Clay, that sounds pretty final. Looks like we can do business.”

  Becky made a final check of the wagon to make sure there was nothing she wanted to keep, then she signed the bill of sale. Sighing, she put the check into her purse, then walked over to the corral to face one last painful parting.

  “Uh-oh, brace yourself, boys,” Clay murmured.

  “Not again!” Garth exclaimed. “I haven’t fully recovered from the farewell to the cow and chickens.”

  “This will probably be worse—there’s six mules.”

  All six trotted over to the fence when they saw Rebecca, which was an amazing sight for a breed that took indifference to a higher plane than even a cat.

  “Now, Desdemona, you be kind to Othello. You know he’s got a hankering for you,” she said, hugging and kissing them. “And Mark Antony, I don’t want to hear that you’ve been nipping at Cleopatra just because she’s a little slower than you. Mr. Scott has promised me he’ll take good care of you and see that no one takes a whip to any of you. And Caesar, I told him that sometimes your leg is sore, and he said he’d team you up with Brutus or Cleopatra since they’re slower. I’d take you all with me, if I had a place of my own where you could graze in a field of clover, instead of pulling heavy wagons up and down mountains.”

  “Did she always talk to them like this?” Scott asked. Clay nodded. “But they’re just dumb mules.”

  “Doesn’t look like that to me,” Garth said. “They seem to understand what she’s saying to them.”

  “Becky insists that animals have feelings and like to be told they’re loved, just like humans do,” Clay said.

  “Funny thing about it is, they never acted up for her like most mules do. Docile as lambs whenever she spoke to them.”

  “Mrs. Fraser, I have to admit there were times I thought you were more trouble than you’re worth,” Scotty said when Rebecca rejoined them. “But all in all, I’m sure going to miss you. You made this trip interesting. I wish you and Clay a long and happy life together.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Scott. And despite the times I found you to be officious and overbearing, I thank you for bringing us through safely. I can’t imagine why you want to do it all over again.”

  “I’m a single man, ma’am
, with no roots. This life keeps me from being lonely.”

  “Perhaps if you’d plant some roots, sir, you wouldn’t have to be a single man. Thus, no loneliness.” Her eyes flashed with the spunk Clay so adored. “Take care of those mules, sir, or I shall haunt you the rest of your life.”

  “Yep, Mrs. Fraser, no doubt about it. I’m sure going to miss you.” He tipped his hat. “Well, it was a pleasure to have met you folks, and good luck in the future.” He winked at Clay. “I think you’re going to need it, son.”

  “And good luck to you, Scotty,” Clay said as they shook hands.

  “My offer’s still open if you change your minds in the next week,” he said, slapping Garth on the shoulder.

  “Good man,” Garth said after the wagon master left.

  While Clay got her trunk out of the wagon, Garth went off to hail them a cab.

  Rebecca took a deep breath and said a quick prayer to get her through the next few minutes. “I guess this is good-bye, Clay.”

  He looked at her inscrutably. “I’ll see you safely to your brother’s.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure you and Garth are eager to find your sister. Besides, I thought I’d stay in a hotel tonight, to freshen up before going to find him.”

  “Then come with us to see Lissy,” he said. “I’d like you to meet her.”

  Rebecca hesitated. Why not? After tomorrow, they might never see each other again. Why not put off the parting as long as she could?

  Garth returned with a cab, and after the men loaded the trunk and saddlebags onto the rear of the carriage, they went to the nearest hotel.

  Fittingly named “The Prospector,” the hotel appeared to be new and was much fancier than the one in Independence. More important, it offered two attractions that Rebecca hadn’t known for over four months: a solid roof over her head, and an actual bed to sleep in.

  Clay registered them as husband and wife, and once upstairs, Rebecca discovered they had a connecting room with Garth, as in Independence. Clay wordlessly settled any doubts she had by putting his saddlebags in Garth’s room.

  Rebecca looked forward to the first hot bath she’d had since they left Fort Laramie. After pouring bath salts into the steaming water, she slowly lowered herself into the tub until the water covered her shoulders. Then she leaned back and relaxed as the hot water surrounded her tired body in a warm and fragrant cocoon.

  Closing her eyes, she thought of that night in Fort Laramie, when Clay had made love to her and they’d almost consummated their marriage. Inevitably that memory led to the memory of the ecstatic night in that cabin, when they did consummate it.

  Though it seemed so long ago, every detail of that night was vivid in her memory. Could she ever put it out of her mind? Did she really ever want to?

  When the water began to cool, Rebecca scrubbed her scalp vigorously to make sure she rid it of every speck of sand, then she left the tub and returned to her room. She had just finished dressing when Clay tapped on the door and came in.

  “All set?”

  “Yes, all but my hat.” She removed her hat from the trunk, adjusted it to a saucy angle, and pinned it on. Then she spun around to find him staring with a bewildered look at her.

  She glanced quickly in the mirror, but nothing appeared unusual. “What’s wrong, Clay?”

  “You were wearing that hat the first time I saw you,” he said.

  “I imagine so, it’s the only hat I own. Is there something wrong with it?”

  “No, I was just remembering. Seems a long time ago.” His smile was unconvincing.

  “Everything seems a long time ago now, Clay.”

  “Yeah. Sure does.”

  25

  The Frasers stood in front of a white clapboard house adjacent to the stagecoach office. In answer to their knock, a young red-haired man opened the door. He nodded and offered a friendly smile, and Rebecca liked him on sight.

  “Howdy, folks.”

  “Are you Stephen Berg?” Clay asked.

  “Sure am. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m Clay Fraser. This is my wife, Rebecca, and my brother Garth.”

  “You’re Lissy’s brothers!” he said, shaking their hands. “I’m Lissy’s husband. She figured you’d show up. Come on in.”

  Once inside, he pointed to an armchair. “Please sit, ma’am. That chair’s the most comfortable. Lissy’s tending the baby, but I’ll go get her.”

  As soon as he left the room, Rebecca teased, “So which one of you boys is going to shoot him?”

  They both were still chuckling when a whirlwind blew into the room.

  “Clay! Garth!” The young girl was stunningly beautiful. Her long hair was as black as that of her brothers, and her tiny frame was engulfed by her tall brothers when she flung herself at them. Her brilliant blue eyes flooded with tears as they hugged and kissed, and Rebecca would have sworn she saw tears in Garth’s eyes, too.

  When they all finally settled down, and Clay had introduced her to his sister, he said, “Well, where is it? You don’t think we came all this way just to see you.”

  Lissy giggled. “Your nephew Theodore just went to sleep.”

  “So you had a boy,” Garth said.

  “Yes, and do you believe Stephen wanted to name him Ulysses after General Grant!”

  Stephen looked sheepish. “That appealed to me more than Beauregard, which Lissy wanted. So I suggested we name him after her father.”

  They all laughed, and Garth walked over and slapped him on the shoulder. “You did good, brother-in-law.”

  Rebecca saw Lissy’s face light with joy at the remark.

  After Theodore awoke and had been introduced to his uncles and aunt, Lissy let Rebecca help with the baby’s bath. Rebecca marveled as she gently cleansed the tiny arms and legs, and the little round cheeks of his rear end. Tiny toes, fingers, arms and legs; each part a perfect miniature. She couldn’t help smiling as the two uncles cooed over their nephew, and she was surprised to see how adept Clay was when he picked Theo up when he began to cry. Clay grinned with pleasure when the baby’s little fingers curled around his large one.

  * * *

  Later, when they decided to leave, Clay went into the bedroom seeking Lissy and Stephen. He stopped at the doorway when he saw them standing at the baby’s crib. Stephen’s arm was around her shoulders as they gazed down at their sleeping child.

  He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. “I love you, Lissy.”

  She leaned her head against his chest and smiled down at the infant. “And I love you, Stephen.”

  “And thank you for our beautiful son. You’re our life, Lissy. We both need you, love. You fought so hard to give him life, just as you gave life to me when you became my wife.”

  Clay felt guilty eavesdropping on this private moment, but he was too moved by it to leave. The resentment he’d harbored toward Stephen was obliterated by his sense of shame. What made him and Garth think they had the right to try to meddle in that love?

  A matter of honor? Whose honor? These two people in love had done the honorable thing. They admitted their love, and were willing to risk the consequences of their actions—not out of some self-imposed sense of duty or honor, but for love.

  Clay started to turn away, and discovered Becky was beside him. How much had she heard of the conversation? For a long moment they stared at each other, and then he took her hand and they slipped away quietly.

  Garth had romance on his mind, and as soon as they returned to the hotel, he took off. Clay tapped on the connecting door.

  “You hungry?” he asked when Rebecca opened it.

  “Famished.”

  “Then let’s go downstairs to dinner. Unless you’d rather go somewhere else to eat?”

  “No, here will be fine.”

  Clay’s palm lightly rode her back as they followed the waiter past a satin-draped alcove, where a string quartet was playing the soothing strains of a Mozart sonata. After seating her, the waiter gave the
m menus and Clay ordered wine.

  Rebecca looked around with pleasure. A flickering candle cast a shimmering glow on the delicate crystal glasses. She lightly traced her hand across the luster of the white tablecloth; it felt cool and smooth beneath her fingertips. A whiff of jasmine drifted up from a bowl of yellow and gold flowers, and she dipped her head to it and took a deep breath of the fragrance.

  “This is all so wonderful.” She leaned across the table to whisper softly, “Clay, can we afford this?”

  “If this is our last dinner together, I would like it to be a special one.”

  His words were a jarring reminder of how little time they’d have together. The candle suddenly lost its glow; the music became less sweet.

  The return of the waiter gave Rebecca a chance to restore her composure, as he poured the wine and Clay gave him their order.

  Then Clay picked up his glass. “This occasion calls for a toast to the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. I shall never forget you, Becky. May you find the happiness you deserve.”

  Rebecca’s hand trembled as she reached for her glass. “And to you, Clayton Fraser. You’re the finest man I’ve ever known.” She didn’t know if she could get through the dinner without breaking out in tears. “But good-byes are so painful, Clay. Let’s not say them here, with candlelight and soft music. It would be too poignant to bear.”

  She met his beautiful brown-eyed gaze. How would she ever forget him? To change the mood, she added, “Even if you are a Southern secessionist.”

  He understood, as she knew he would, and broke into laughter. Lord, he was handsome when he laughed! They clinked their glasses together.

  As they ate their meal, both concentrated on other subjects to avoid an awkward silence.

  They didn’t speak on the way back to the room. Rebecca unlocked her door, thanked him again for dinner, and entered her room.

  There, she changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed. She tried to read herself to sleep, but thirty minutes later she hadn’t read beyond the first page.