by Anita Mills
“Jesse wasn’t dirty, drunk, or derelict,” she retorted. “But even if he were any of those things, it wouldn’t make much difference now. He’s dead, and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t help me now. As for teaching school, I’ve got no education—everybody back there knows I had to stay home to take care of Mama, and after that, it was Danny. When they got done laughing, they’d tell me their kids have already got more schooling than I had!” Pushing an errant strand of hair away from her eyes, she declared defiantly, “So you can put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Rich Doctor Fellow, because I’m not going back there!”
“Because you’re too damned bullheaded for your own good. What’ll you do if you get sick?—if the baby needs a doctor? At least back in Carolina, you won’t be packing up and dragging Jessie off someplace else every time damned camp moves. But have it your way—I’m going to salve my conscience by leaving you money in case you come to your senses, and then I’m getting out of here. I can’t stand watching you work yourself to death.”
“I’m not a charity case, and we’re not yours to worry about,” she declared flatly. Striding to the cupboard, she retrieved a big jar. “Look at this—I’ve got fifty dollars in here, and I earned every penny of it myself.”
“And you work harder to get it than a slave in a Mississippi cotton patch ever worked under a whip. Just how long do you think you can keep this up?”
“Well, maybe I don’t see it that way at all!” she snapped. “If I ever go back to North Carolina, I won’t be draggin’ my tail like some sorry dog. All my life, when I was trying to take care of Danny and growing up myself, I had people sayin’ how sorry they were for me; then I’d overhear those same folks snickerin’ behind my back because I was too poor to have a decent dress or anything else. Their notion of charity was givin’ me something they wouldn’t be caught dead in themselves!”
“Laura—”
“No, sir—they’re not getting another chance to look down on me like I’m not good enough to step over. The next time I see any of ’em, I’ll be holding my head high and showing ’em I’ve amounted to something. It sure won’t be to ask ’em if I can sew or keep house for ’em, which is about all somebody like me can do!”
As she said it, her lip quivered, and Spence realized she was on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry—I guess I just didn’t understand,” he said quietly.
“No, you didn’t!”
Pushing past him, she went outside and around the house to the privy. Slamming the door shut, she threw the bar inside, then sat down to cry. She hadn’t meant to let anybody see the lingering hurt, least of all somebody who’d had enough money to go to medical college, who’d never known what it was like to eat nothing but potatoes and beans month after month because there was nothing else.
Spence was right behind her. Pounding on the outhouse door, he shouted, “I said I was sorry! Come out before you freeze to death in there. It’s too damned cold out for a woman with no coat on!”
“Go away, and leave me alone! I’m just dandy, so don’t you worry yourself!”
“Look, I wanted to help you out, that’s all.”
“Well, don’t! I don’t need anybody’s charity, not even yours!”
“Now, damn it, I’ve already apologized twice. I don’t even know what started this, except I told you I was going to work a few days on the rep track. I figured you’d be glad to get rid of me for a while.”
“It was the money—and I won’t take a penny of it!”
“Laurie, for God’s sake—”
That was what Jesse used to call her. She leaned her head against the wood wall and closed her eyes. For the first time in her life, she had to admit she was afraid of being alone, of never having anybody to hold but her daughter. She wasn’t really any different from every other woman in the world—she ached for someone to love her, someone she could love also. But more than anything, she didn’t want him to go.
“Well, I guess you’re not talking now,” he said heavily. “I guess when you get cold enough, you’ll come out. Since I don’t have my boots on, my feet are freezing, and I’ve got to go inside.”
As she heard him walking away, she swallowed back more tears. She’d always known he’d have to leave, she told herself, but she just hadn’t expected it to happen before May. Maybe she hadn’t wanted him here in the first place, but she’d grown so accustomed to having him around that it seemed like he just belonged here. She even liked that rumpled look he had when he came to the table in the morning, because it made him seem like a vulnerable little boy instead of the bitter man he was. And when he sat before the fire, rocking Jessie, it was like the baby belonged there.
She just wished she’d met him before he married that stupid jezebel. With that black, black hair and those sky blue eyes, he must’ve been the handsomest bachelor in the state of Georgia, and surely he’d deserved better than what he’d gotten. Nothing on earth could’ve made her do to him what Lydia had.
She sat very still for a moment, realizing she’d been lying to herself, believing she thought of him as Jessie’s doctor, Jesse’s friend, but he was far more than that to her. He was the man she should’ve met before Jesse. Catching herself before she could let that thought take hold, she knew he would’ve looked right past her. Men born and bred to privilege had no honorable interest in awkward country girls wearing flour sack dresses. And they never would.
Shivering cold, she unlocked the privy door, and with her arms crossed tightly across her breasts, she ducked into the icy wind, then ran for the house. Around the corner, Spencer Hardin stepped in front of her.
“You said you were going inside!” she cried.
Pulling off his coat, he threw it around her. “You can throw a hissy fit if you want to, but by God, you’re going in with me,” he told her. “I don’t know why, but you’re having some kind of nervous collapse.”
“I’m not!” she shouted, trying to pull away.
“The hell you aren’t! You’re making yourself sick over nothing!” Out of all patience now, he swung her into his arms and headed for the front door. “You know it’s a damned good thing Chen Li can’t speak English, or he’d be going down the hill telling everybody you’re a crazy woman.”
“Put me down!”
Reaching around her, he managed to get the door open and stumble through it. He kicked it closed, crossed the little room, and dropped her on the bed. Standing over her, he needed a moment to catch his breath. When he looked down, she’d roiled into a tight ball, and she was shaking all over.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and touched her shoulder, feeling helpless. “Laurie … don’t … you’ve got to get hold of yourself.”
“I can’t!”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chen Li edging his way to the door. The odd little fellow obviously wanted out or there, and Spence wanted to be left alone with Laura. As the door closed, he began rubbing her back, her shoulders, her neck.
“Laurie—”
“Just go away! That’s what you want to do, anyway!”
“I can’t help if I don’t know what ails you,” he said gently. “Come on—you’re making yourself sick,”
“Why can’t I be afraid like everybody else? Why do I have to be strong?” she wailed.
“Afraid of what?”
“I don’t know! I just k-keep working … and … and nobody cares! I can’t make myself try any harder!”
Lifting her, he turned her into his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her. “You won’t let anybody help you,” he murmured, stroking her soft hair.
She burrowed her face into his shirt and held onto him with both hands, sobbing hard. As warm and solid as he was, she didn’t want to ever let go, but she knew she had to. Finally, she sat up, ashamed of herself for the inexplicable outburst. Gulping air, she managed to tell, him, “I just can’t get everything done—there’s just no end to it—and if you go on the rep track, it’s something mor
e to worry about.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“Jesse wasn’t.”
He thought he finally knew what was wrong. “It’s Jesse—that’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”
“No.” Trying to dry her eyes on a corner of the apron, she couldn’t look up at him. “Jesse isn’t even here anymore—he’s just gone.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not anymore. There was a time when I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t—I was afraid I’d lose the baby, too, and there’d be nothing left. And, anyway, it wouldn’t be for what you’d think—the Jesse Taylor who came home from the war was a stranger to me.”
“I see.”
“And after we got out here, it just got worse, because I hardly ever saw him.” Looking up through wet lashes, she admitted, “It was like he’d been seduced by the money he was making, and all he wanted was more of it. If I said anything about him being gone all the time, he’d tell me I was holding him back, that I didn’t want him to make anything of himself—but that wasn’t true.”
The catch in her voice touched him more than her words. “If he thought you were holding him back, he was wrong.”
“No.”
“Hey—whose money brought him out here, anyway?”
“It wasn’t enough—there was never enough for what he wanted—he wanted things like rich folks had, and he died trying to get them, Spence. I couldn’t make him see it wasn’t what we had—that it was what we were that mattered.”
“He was wrong.”
“And now you’ve started talking about money, about Jessie needing a better life than I can give her, and I can’t stand it anymore. I’m doing all I can to make it happen, but nobody thinks it’s good enough.”
“I’m sorry, Laurie, truly sorry.”
Looking away, he stared bleakly across the room that held everything she owned. There wasn’t anything there he’d give more than twenty dollars for. And he’d as much as told her all of her hard work didn’t amount to anything either. He might as well have said she was worthless herself, he realized now.
“You just shouldn’t have to work so hard—it’s not right.”
“What am I supposed to do?—just give up? Some days I just want to dig myself a hole so I can crawl in it and die, but I tell myself I can’t—I’m all Jessie’s got, and she deserves so much better.”
“Laura, that’s foolish talk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I don’t want her to grow up like me,” Wiping her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, she sniffed, trying to stop her runny nose. “I want her to know she’s somebody.”
As she dropped her hand, he caught it Rubbing the rough, chapped skin with his fingers, he found hers small and almost frail. “God, Laura—”
Once again, those flecked brown eyes appeared almost gold as she looked up. Staring into them, he felt a dam of suppressed hunger break, releasing such a flood of desire that it overwhelmed rational thought. Every nerve in him was acutely aware of her woman’s body, of the pleasure within it. Catching her shoulders, he bent his head to hers, brushing her lips with his. He could feel her cold flesh quiver as her lips parted to receive his kiss, telling him she wanted this as much as he did.
For one brief second, she told herself it was wrong; then her balled fists dug into his shoulders, holding on, while his tongue probed the depths of her mouth, shocking her. A feeble protest died in the fire of her own desire. Her arms twined around his neck as she returned his kiss with a passion that drove everything else from his mind.
His mouth left hers, and his lips traced lightly over the shell of her ear, while his warm breath sent shivers of anticipation coursing down her spine. It was as though the quick, feathery kisses he trailed along her jaw and down her neck brought her alive with the promise of ecstasy, and as he pressed his lips against the sensitive hollow of her throat, she felt the low moan rise within her throat. Her neck arched, offering more hot skin to his touch.
“Let me love you,” he murmured against her flesh. “You need this as much as I—you want this as much as I.”
Hiding behind her closed eyes, she whispered, “Yes, I want it, too.”
Easing her down into the feather bed, he looked into her face, thinking she had to be the loveliest woman in the world. His gaze moved lower, taking in the promise of her slender body from the full breasts beneath the faded bodice, the narrow waist, the curve of her hip under her dress, and he wanted to see all of it. He wanted to feel her flesh under his. Fumbling at her bodice buttons with one hand, he worked those on his shirt with the other, tearing at them. Jerking his shirttail out of his pants, he managed to get his shirt and coat off together, then fling them to the floor. Easing his body down beside hers, he began stroking her hair, her cheek, the smooth skin above her bodice. She sucked in her breath as his fingers slipped under the cloth to touch the fullness of her breasts.
“Don’t—I’ll leak,” she protested weakly.
“I don’t care, Laurie—all I care about is you. I want to be good for you.”
His hand cupped her breast, and his thumb rubbed over her nipple, eliciting an intense, exquisite agony. As milk flowed into his palm, she felt the aching wetness between her thighs. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Please …”
“Please what?” he murmured against her breast. ‘Tell me what you want me to do.”
“I don’t know—I just don’t want you to stop.”
Feeling as if he’d burst, he kissed her lips again. “Are you sure?”
“It’s been so long, Spence—love me now. I want it all,”
Nuzzling her throat, he reached down to unbutton his pants. He could feel himself grow as the buttons gave way. Lifting his hips, he worked his pants down to his ankles, then kicked them off. “Touch me, Laurie,” he said hoarsely.
“I … I can’t … I’ve never done that before.”
She had her eyes squeezed tightly shut, and her teeth held her lip. He could see the rise and fall of her breasts through her open bodice. Working feverishly, he pushed the dress and thin chemise down from her shoulders, tugging them past her waist, over her hips. Loosening the waist of her drawers, he got them and everything else to her ankles. His fingers caught the laces of her shoes, untying them, pulling them off.
Instead of parting her legs, he nuzzled the crevice between her breasts, while his hands stroked the curve of her hip, moving over the nearly flat plain of her belly until his fingers found the soft fold below, then glided inside.
He felt her body tauten under his hand, her heels dig into the feather mattress. As he stroked the wet flesh, she began to move, opening and closing her legs as the pleasure intensified. More than ready to give her what she wanted, he eased his body over hers, and as her legs splayed to receive him, he guided himself inside.
“Oh, yes!” she gasped, clinging to him as he rocked within her. “Don’t stop now!” Her legs came up, and her body joined his rhythm, bucking beneath him, demanding satisfaction. Grasping her hips, he rode hard, straining to reach that ultimate peak. Pounding blood roared in his ears, and her breath was coming in great gasps, drowning out the primordial cries of the woman beneath him. He felt the explosion, the intense pleasure of release. Wrapping, his arms around her, he lay within her, floating back to earth.
For a time, she hugged him, catching her breath. She felt utterly, completely sated. Finally, he rolled off her, drew her into the crook of his arm, and stared at the cabin ceiling. He was so quiet she could hear his heartbeat under her ear. She lay there, thinking dreamily that she never wanted to move from the warmth of his body.
He hadn’t meant to do this, it had just happened, he told himself. No, he was lying. He’d wanted her more than anything, but that still didn’t make it right—nothing could. He’d wanted her, and he’d taken advantage of her loneliness, and when she came to her senses, she’d probably hate him for it. Or herself, and he couldn’t stand that. The blame
was his, not hers—he’d thought of little else these past few weeks, so much he d tried to run away, but he hadn’t made it. No, he was leaving with the railroad rep crew tomorrow, one day too late.
He looked down at the silky soft brown hair spilling across his bare shoulder, wondering what she was thinking, if he’d given her as much pleasure as she’d given him. If she had any idea how good her woman’s body had felt, how much better than the others. The thought threatened to rekindle his desire, making him feel no better than an animal. If things had been different, if he’d met her before Jesse, before Lydia …
She was probably too mortified to face him, and he didn’t want that. His hand crept to stroke her hair as his mind sought words. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
The regret in his voice struck her like a slap, telling her she’d been a fool. It’d been lust, not love in his mind. She’d given her body wantonly, wanting to believe he could somehow love her. He probably thought her little better than a whore now. Somehow, she managed to whisper, “It’s all right—the blame is as much mine as yours.”
Nothing was worth the shame he heard in that whisper. “I guess you’re as sorry as I am, aren’t you?”
What was she supposed to say to that? Not wanting to lower his opinion or her any further, she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes.”
“It’s not your fault, you know. At least I knew where I was headed.”
“I was married—I had a notion.” Pulling away from him, she sat up with her back to him, acutely conscious of her nakedness now. “You didn’t exactly have to ravish me.”
“Laura—”
“Please don’t.” Her hands gripped the edge of the bed. “Since I’m still nursing Jessie, I won’t be having another baby, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“God, Laura—it wasn’t like that at all.”
Leaning down, she retrieved her clothes from the floor, grateful he couldn’t see her face. “Mama told me that, you know. I wasn’t old enough to be thinking about such things, but she knew she wouldn’t be there to tell me later.”