Morgan's Marriage

by Lindsay McKenna

  Running his hand distractedly across the smooth cedar rail, Morgan sighed. Nothing had made him happier in his life than seeing Laura cry with absolute joy when he’d flown her to Montana, and then driven her and the children to Blue Mountain to see their newly designed home. Stately Douglas firs rose nearly a hundred feet high all around them, and they’d walked the pine-scented land for many days, planning the details for her gardens. It was there that the final miracle had occurred, and Morgan had seen the last of the depression and terror lift from Laura.

  He continued to write operation manuals for the government based on the exploits of Perseus teams over the years. To his own surprise, impressed by the accuracy of the manuals, twenty-five other democratic countries had signed up to make use of his world-class knowledge, and the price he charged as a consultant was high. High enough to give Laura her dream home, put money away for their children’s college education and never have to worry about their golden years again.

  Because of Laura’s background as a military and technical writer, she’d easily fallen into helping him almost daily on the writing and rewriting of the manuals. They’d become a good team in so many new and satisfying ways that he’d never even dreamed of before. No longer was he an absentee parent, either. He was home every day, sharing the child-raising duties and house-related chores with Laura.

  Morgan straightened and rubbed his hands on his jeans. The laughter and joy drifting up from the garden made him smile. In fifteen months there had been such a positive change in all of them. Looking up at the fir trees that embraced the house from a distance, he inhaled the fresh air into his lungs.

  They were safe now. No longer would a drug cartel come after them. As a matter of fact, it had been Culver Lachlan, the Peruvian government and Major Mike Houston who had combined resources to eradicate the scrambling drug underlings to such a degree that their iron-fisted hold on Peru had been destroyed.

  The other good news was that Mike Houston had married Ann Parsons a year ago. Now Ann was pregnant with their first child while she continued to work with Lima’s poor in setting up free medical clinics. They were one happy couple, and Morgan wanted only the best for them.

  With a shake of his head, he walked down the steps. His family was healing finally, and for the first time since his days in Vietnam, he was happier than he could ever recall. The sound of a car engine caught his attention and he looked up to see a blue Chevy Blazer driving slowly up their road. It was Wolf and Sarah Harding, come to take the children to Wolf’s favorite swimming hole. Morgan lifted his hand in greeting as the couple pulled into the driveway. He’d never seen Wolf happier, either; Sarah was decidedly pregnant, and the homeopathic doctor from Philipsburg, Michaela, had told her she was going to have twins!

  Morgan watched Laura stand when she saw Wolf and Sarah walking toward them. He felt warm inside as her smile blossomed. She raised her hand as the children raced to the gate, then past it toward their honorary “aunt” and “uncle.” Having good friends on the other side of the mountain had helped all of them enormously, too, Morgan acknowledged.

  Jason picked up a nearby knapsack packed with their swimming suits, towels and a lunch, and continued toward the Blazer. Katherine was a little more circumspect, running on her short, spindly legs, her hands opened wide. Sarah laughed and crouched down to hug the little girl while Jason got swept up by Wolf, who settled the boy on his shoulders.

  It was a weekly tradition now, and Morgan was grateful to Wolf and Sarah. Without them playing baby-sitter, he and Laura would have been hard put to make the time they needed to sort out the deep, emotional problems created by Laura’s rapes. Sarah had single-handedly come in and laid down the law to them very early on, telling them that under no circumstances were they going to heal properly without some quality time alone together.

  So once a week, Wolf and she came and picked up the kids, planning a day with numerous activities such as swimming, hiking, going to Anaconda or in some way making healthy, educational fun for them. Jason and Katherine would stay overnight with the Hardings and return home the next afternoon.

  It was good for the kids, too, Morgan realized as he continued to walk slowly toward Laura, at the gate blowing kisses to the children, who had already climbed into the Blazer, raring to go on their next adventure. Jason and Katherine were being taught independence from their parents at an early age, learning how to be flexible and get along with other people who loved and cared for them. And Wolf and Sarah got to practice their child-rearing skills. It was a plan that had worked well for everyone concerned.

  As Morgan reached the gate where Laura stood, he saw her lift her chin. The straw hat shaded her face but didn’t hide the flush across her cheeks. Her blond hair, although gathered in a ponytail, had escaped in tendrils that clung damply to her golden skin. The temperature was in the eighties today—hot for this part of the Rockies.

  “I don’t know who’s more excited by these once-a-week adventures,” Morgan said with a chuckle, watching Wolf back the Blazer out of the driveway.

  Laura slid her arm around Morgan’s waist. She smiled softly and leaned against his tall, proud frame. “Me, neither.”

  He removed her hat and kissed her brow. “Are you ready for your surprise?”

  Her eyes shone as she turned in his arms. “I love these times,” she said huskily, absorbing his male smile. “And I love you, too….”

  Morgan leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. He wanted more. So much more. “Come on,” he rasped, “I’ve got everything packed. All I need is you.”

  BlueMountain was more a dream manifested into reality than anything else, Morgan had decided a long time ago. They walked hand in hand down a deer trail that cut diagonally across the mountain. Laura had changed into a pale pink blouse and long navy rayon skirt dotted with tiny pink rosebuds. She wore sandals, since Morgan had told her the surprise wasn’t far away and hiking boots wouldn’t be necessary, though he carried a large pack on his shoulders.

  Once a week, he planned these “surprises,” all of them designed to get Laura and him away where they could be alone and intimate. Over the past year, the rape issue had remained between them like an insurmountable wall, but gradually, as Dr. Parsons had promised, with intensive therapy and Morgan’s help and understanding, the wall had been dissolving. It hadn’t been easy on either of them. Morgan hadn’t realized the pervasive and murderous effects of the rape not only on Laura, but on him, as well. What had been taken from Laura had also been taken from him, and he’d had to deal with the rage and helplessness of that knowledge.

  Now Laura looked forward to these times as much as he did. If they felt like making love, they would—to the extent that Laura’s flashbacks would allow. Morgan had been taught that intimacy was more than just sex. It was about talking, caring and being sensitive to Laura’s needs. It was about touching and holding, too. He’d had to work a lot on that angle of himself, and he was admittedly far better off with these new aspects of himself, because they allowed him to appreciate and enjoy Laura more fully than ever before.

  “Okay,” he said, tugging gently on her hand and drawing her to a halt, “we have to stop here, and I need to blindfold you.”

  Laura laughed gaily. “Oh, Morgan, I’ll keep my eyes shut. I promise!”

  He grinned and shook his head. “No way. Last week,” he said, pulling a scarf from his pocket, “you said you wouldn’t look and you did.” He gestured for her to turn around. They stood on a small knoll, surrounded by firs.

  Pouting playfully, Laura turned obediently, her laughter breathy and filled with excitement. “I tripped, Morgan! I had to open my eyes. It was a natural thing to do.”

  Chuckling, he slipped the scarf across her eyes and knotted it carefully behind her head. “Well, there are no rocks on the path, so you can’t use that excuse this time.” He caught her small hand in his. “Come on, I’ll help you.” Unable to keep the excitement out of his voice, he guided her down the trail.

&
nbsp; “You said I’ve never been where we’re going?”

  “That’s right,” he said, leading her carefully, watching the steep trail in front of him as it wound sharply downward. “Now, it’s pretty steep here, Laura, so don’t hurry.” She was like an excited child, reminding him of Jason at the moment, barely able to contain her joy.

  “Oh, Morgan!” She burst into laughter. “We aren’t very far from our house. I must have been here!”

  “No,” he growled. “You think you know BlueMountain, but this is one place I discovered when you and the kids were shopping in Anaconda for school clothes.”

  “Hmm,” Laura whispered, taking small steps down the trail. “I hear water!”

  “Ears like a wolf, eyes like an owl,” he teased. At the bottom of the path, he eased around her and whispered, “All right, I’m going to take the scarf off. Are you ready?”

  “Oh, hurry, Morgan! I can hear water, and to tell the truth, I need a bath!”

  “Now—” he grinned “—I wouldn’t say that.” He unknotted the scarf, enjoying touching the thick tendrils of her blond hair in the process.

  “You need one, too,” she reminded him archly, shifting from foot to foot.

  “Thanks,” he retorted, laughing fully as he removed the blindfold.

  Laura’s eyes widened enormously and her hands flew to her lips. “Oh!” A small stream meandered around the base of BlueMountain, and in one spot it widened to create the perfect swimming hole, with a meadow filled with wildflowers on the opposite bank. The meadow was small by Montana standards, but to Laura it was like a fairy-tale painting from a children’s book, nearly knee-deep with grass and colorful blossoms.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she exclaimed as she turned and looked up at Morgan. She saw the pleased look in his eyes and felt herself respond effortlessly to his powerful masculine presence. He stood with his hands draped casually on his narrow hips, a proud smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

  “It’s like you, Little Swan,” he whispered, taking her into his arms and pressing her against him. She relaxed instantly, her head resting on his shoulder as he enclosed her in his arms.

  “I feel like this meadow,” she confided, her voice quavering with emotion. “I feel abundant, blossoming….” She twisted to look up at him. “I suppose you’re going to say something like, yes, you are a blooming idiot.”

  Chuckling, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You hurt my feelings, Little Swan.”

  “I saw that teasing look in your eyes,” she said, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Don’t forget, I can almost read your mind at times, Morgan Trayhern. Eight and a half years of marriage gives me that ability.”

  Morgan couldn’t argue. He was always amazed at Laura’s intuitive ability, not only with him, but with their children as well. Grinning, he nipped her earlobe. She dodged away, laughing, but he kept her captive within his embrace.

  Turning around in his arms, Laura smiled up at him as she slid her arms around his neck. “Let’s go for a swim! I’m so sweaty, and so are you.”

  Arching his eyebrows, he murmured, “I didn’t bring any swimming suits.”

  Hitting him playfully in the shoulder, Laura said, “Of course you wouldn’t. You men are all alike.”

  Pretending hurt, he released her. Laura found a nice grassy place a few feet away from him and began to undress. “I can’t remember everything,” he said, un-buttoning his shirt, his gaze never leaving her. Everything Laura did was graceful. He would never tire of watching her. Her blouse dropped away and he was pleased to see she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath it. The skirt was next. In seconds she stood proudly naked before him, her eyes half-closed, a sultry, teasing smile on her lips.

  “I may have forgotten the swimsuits,” Morgan said, his voice husky as he dropped his shirt in the grass, “but I think you forgot a few things, too.”

  Laughing impishly, she raised her arms toward the dark, turquoise sky, languishing in the rays of the sun as it struck her naked skin. “Not that you mind,” she said, pirouetting toward him like a ballerina. She enjoyed watching Morgan undress. His old weight had returned, his strength and vitality with it. It hurt her every time she saw those awful scars across his back, but even they were fading with time, for which she was glad.

  “Did you bring towels?” she taunted as he, too, stood naked, a burning look in his eyes.

  “Sure,” he muttered, gesturing to the knapsack. “Towels, a blanket to lie on, wine to drink—later, and food. Besides you, what else is there?” His mouth curved teasingly as he walked toward her. At that moment, Laura loosened her hair so that it flowed down across her shoulders. Her hair was long now, much longer than he’d ever seen it. The golden strands curled provocatively around her breasts. Something seemed different about her body, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. She had lovely breasts, the kind a man could cup, hold and suckle. And even after two children, her waist was small. One of his favorite places to touch was Laura’s slightly rounded abdomen. It had a pearlescent quality, and he loved to run his large hand across it, spanning it, feeling the softness and reminding himself that she’d carried two children made from the pure love between them.

  “No, you don’t!” Laura cried as she dodged his outstretched hand. With a yell, she leapt into the clear blue water.

  Morgan watched her dive, her golden hair darkening and flowing behind her like a ribbon. She came up for air on the opposite bank. Slicking the water from her face, she gestured for him to come in. Did she know how beautiful she was? Morgan wondered as he dived in after her.

  The water was icy cold, and it took his breath away. He met Laura on the other side, and she scooped up a handful of sand, then another, rubbing it against his shoulders, back and hips. He did the same for her. There was nothing like sand to clean the sweat and freshen the skin to a bright, pink hue.

  Laura danced away from him as he tried to wash the front of her with the sand. She quickly did the chore herself. Her hair lay wet against her head, wrapped like a thick scarf around her long, beautiful neck and breasts. He ached to have her, and he saw the desire in her dark blue eyes for him. But instead of chasing her, he was content to continue to bathe.

  Climbing out, Laura went to the knapsack and drew out the red plaid blanket, spreading it out across the thick, deep grass near the bank. She lay down on her back, stretching her arms above her head, allowing the sun and breeze to dry the water from her body.

  Laura felt Morgan come to her side. A few drops of water splashed across her, and she lifted her lashes. Smiling, because he was sitting facing her, his arm across her body so she couldn’t escape, she saw that he was going to kiss her and her lower body ached with need of him as she relished the sensation as never before. The rape had taken so much from her, and only in the past three months had she felt the return of her old sensual, sexual self. It had been wonderful discovering that it hadn’t been entirely taken from her forever.

  As Laura reached up, sliding her damp arms around Morgan’s wet shoulders, gleaming in the sunlight, she felt as if she was drowning in the burning dark gray of his eyes. Automatically, her lashes swept downward, and she stretched forward to meet Morgan’s mouth. She wasn’t disappointed as she felt his arms go around her, sweeping her against him, their bodies meeting and melding slickly against each other.

  The warmth of the sunlight and the cooling dance of air across Laura’s sensitized skin combined with her dizzied senses as Morgan’s mouth settled commandingly on hers. She tasted the sunlight on his lips, inhaled the pine scent that encircled him, mingling with the clean, male fragrance that was distinctively his. Easing her fingers through his wet hair, she opened her mouth farther, inviting him in, her breathing ragged and her heart pulsing with need.

  As he kissed her more deeply, she felt Morgan’s hand range downward to cup her breast. Molten heat sizzled through her, and she arched against him, a moan vibrating softly in her throat. He tore his mouth from hers, and she waited those exquisite second
s before his lips settled over the hardened peak begging for his attention. Fire seemed to jolt from her breast down to her very core. Helplessly, she arched within his arms and felt herself being placed on the blanket.

  Sliding her fingers down across his massive chest, following the hard curve of his narrow hips, she wrapped her fingers provocatively around him. Instantly, he groaned, stiffening against her, his eyes snapping open, their dark, stormy look making her sigh with joy. At that moment, he was more animal than man, and she thrilled to his masculine strength covering her body, taking her, his hand moving her thighs apart to receive him.

  The water provided a slick lubricant between them, and the heat of the sunlight combined with the heat they were generating made her feel as if they were fusing like hot metal. She threw back her head, a small cry escaping as she felt Morgan ease his hand between her straining thighs. A new, molten warmth flowed from her, and she felt his fingers move provocatively within the confines of her womanhood. Each movement made her arch harder and sigh with need for his touch. Her lashes swept closed, and she surrendered herself to him in every way. The fire of the sun, the chill of the water, the playful dance of the breeze all conspired to heighten her senses.

  Somewhere in her spinning, delicious state, Laura felt Morgan slide between her thighs. How she’d waited for this exquisite moment! She felt his hands settle on her hips, lifting her slightly, and she arched willingly into those large, scarred hands. The moment she felt him sheath into her, a cry tore from her—a cry of utter pleasure combined with acknowledgment of their union, of their becoming one again.

  No longer did Laura see their union as something to take for granted. No, the rapes had taught them differently. Now each time she was able to stay connected, in her body, and focus on the fact that it was Morgan touching her and loving her, she experienced a miracle.