“Your wife.”
Chapter 3
Luke cursed soundly, if silently, to himself as the spitfire sitting in front of him on his horse shifted again. His wife. Mentally, he shook his head. He had barely remembered the strange conversation with his father the night before, but as she’d stood there with that gun in her hand it had all come crashing back. He had signed the damn thing. He was married. And to this curvy hell raiser!
Not that she wasn’t a pleasant handful, his body reminded him painfully as she shifted again.
“Will you knock that off?” He said, his words slightly slurred still from the whisky he had imbibed, almost at his breaking point. Her lush behind had been rubbing against him since she had demanded he take her home, at gunpoint.
“Knock what off?” she threw irritably back over her shoulder.
“Stop wiggling around!”
“Well, I feel like I’m about to fall off. This beast is giant!” She stared at the ground from atop her seat on Titus, and did it again, moving against him in that way that had all the blood rushing south. Finally, he threw an arm around her waist, and almost wished he hadn’t. Her plump curves pressed against him even more firmly, but he couldn't’ make himself let go. It just felt so right to hold her like that. Now, you knock that off, he reprimanded himself.
“I’m Luke, by the way. Luke wilder.”
She sighed heavily before casting him another look. “Oh, I know who you are.”
The way she said the words set his teeth on edge.
“The polite response would be to reply in kind.”
She looked at him again, this time her bright green eyes were serious, and he felt himself holding his breath until she finally looked away.
“Eleanor Grace Fontaine.”
“Wilder, now.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s Eleanor Wilder, now.”
She grew still in his arms, silent for a long moment. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
They rode on for a while in silence, Luke finally noticing that she stiffened noticeably in his embrace. He cast his alcohol soaked mind for something to put her at ease.
“I’m...I’m sorry about earlier. I should have been there to get you at the station, I just…”
“Oh, believe me. I know exactly ‘just’.” Her words sounded slightly watery and he turned her just enough to see tears glimmering in her gorgeous green eyes.
“Hey, what…” He paused, not knowing what to say. “Don’t cry, now. It’s not as bad as all that. Really.”
“No, it really is!” Eleanor took a deep breath, anger flushing her cheeks the sweetest pink, like the center of a rose. “I had a husband, who was a drunk, like you. And he liked the girls and he liked to gamble, just like you. And he would drink and drink, and he would get meaner and meaner. He made my life a living nightmare, he…” Her voice broke, and without thinking she touched a hand to her forehead, right over the scar that would never heal. “He died, leaving me nothing. Leaving me worse than nothing. I thought...I had hoped that this time would be different. Be better.”
Speechless, he stared at her, anger growing hotter and hotter in his chest at what she was saying, and all that she wasn’t. Not at her, not for her accusations, because he couldn’t really deny them, but at her dead husband. Who could hurt her? Who could lay a finger on her?
“I promise you, Eleanor Wilder, I will never hurt you. I would never…” He trailed off, unable to even say the words in the same sentence as her name. She looked at him, her wide green eyes still damp with tears, and something else. A bud of trust. A beginning.
Instinctively, he pulled her close, his thoughts muddled as they made their way the rest of the way to his home.
Chapter 4
Nervously, Eleanor set the dish full of smoked ham on the center of the table, and looked around. There was potatoes and gravy, stewed greens and honeyed rolls. She’d used her mother’s recipe. The same recipe she had made every year for them at Christmas. It wasn’t much but it was all she’d had time for. Luckily, there had been a smoked ham already in the pantry, and she had used whatever else she had found in the ill stocked kitchen. It obviously didn’t get much use.
As Luke finally entered the dining room, his dark eyes widened in surprise. “Eleanor...what is all this?” His voice was soft and shocked. She shrugged, uncomfortable under his piercing gaze.
“It’s Christmas dinner, of course.”
“But you...How?” He stared at the table again, then laughed. A full-bellied laugh that had a wave of warmth shooting through her. “I mean, you’ve only been here for six hours. How did you manage all this?”
“I...I just did, alright,” Eleanor huffed, not knowing how to answer his teasing. “Are you going to sit down and eat it or just marvel at it all night?”
Without a second warning, he dug in, piling his plate high with the warm meal, letting out groans of delight at each new thing he tasted. Halfway through their meal, Eleanor was convinced that watching him eat must be a sin. The way he brought every bit to his mouth slowly, sensuously. Moaning as he wrenched every morsel of delight that he could from the simple fare.
Suddenly warm, Eleanor fanned herself, trying to drag her gaze away, but found she couldn’t. He was so handsome, and when he smile at her it felt like she was the only other person alive. What a dreadful mess, she thought. She had thought of many possibilities for her new husband but never that she might actually come to care for him, or worse.
“This is the best meal I’ve had in…” He paused, thinking, “well, I can’t ever remember. A long time. Thank you for this.” He looked at her with those dark, warm eyes she just nodded, unable to say a single word.
“I haven’t had a home cooked meal since my mother died,” Luke said suddenly, jolting her out of the trance he had put her under. They talked for the rest of the meal, long after the food had gone cold and the wine had been drunk. About themselves, their likes and dislikes, hopes and dreams. Learning one another, laughing together over silly things.
Eventually even the fire flickered out and Eleanor rose, her feeling of warmth and comfort fading as a thought occurred to her. Oh my god, it was her wedding night! Suddenly flushed and panicked, she reached for a dish, intent on clearing off the table when Luke spoke lazily.
“Just leave it, Eleanor. We can deal with it tomorrow.” He grinned up at her, “It is Christmas, after all.”
“I um, yes, well. So it is.” She managed to stutter.
Luke stood and edged close enough to put his hand under her chin and tilt it up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“What has you so spooked all of a sudden, Eleanor.”
“It’s. Well, it’s…” She stopped again, trying to calm her racing heart. “We are married, you know?”
“How could I forget?” He said with another soft smile. His eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Oh.”
“Yes. Oh.”
“Listen, Eleanor, you don’t, ah, that is to say I…” He stopped, running a hand through his shaggy curls. “Aw, hell. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, got it?”
Eleanor stared up at him, trying to be kind, trying to be gentle. For her. She took a single step closer. “Maybe...maybe just a kiss?”
He stared at her for a long, tense moment, and then his lips were crashing onto hers. She briefly recalled Jacks slobbering excuse for a kiss but the memory was obliterated by Luke’s mouth. It seemed to go on forever before he finally pulled back, allowing her to draw breath.
“It’s never…” She paused breathlessly, “It’s never been like that. Never good.”
“It’s supposed to be good, Eleanor. So, so good. I can show you. You don’t have to be scared, I promise.”
“It’s just...with Jack, you see, it never…” Flustered, her words trailed off. A quick tumble with Jack’s sweat soaked body on top of her quickly followed with him passing out from drink and snoring loudly in her ear was not her idea of ‘good’.
�
�Let me show you.” Luke whispered the words again, his breath tickling her ear and sending a wave of heaviness through her body, and suddenly she couldn’t support herself anymore. She leaned forward, pressing into Luke’s hard body, and then his lips were on hers, searching at first, tentative. So gentle and unlike anything she had known before.
She was entranced. Eleanor didn’t even notice when he shifted their bodies, moving into a bedroom and lowering her onto the mattress. Suddenly realizing where she was, her eyes snapped open.
“Hush, don’t worry sweetheart. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” Luke said softly, temper raging through him again at the thought of her bastard of a husband. He kissed her again, sweetly, and he felt her melt underneath him. A wave of longing swept through him but he held it back, his body under tight control.
Slowly, he swept his hand from her ankle, across her calf, and around her knee until finally settling on the inside of her luscious thigh. He kissed her the whole time, partly to distract her, and partly because he couldn't’ do anything else.
As gently as he could, he slid away the layers of fabric barring his teasing fingers, and caught her startled gasp with his mouth.
“What are you...Oh!” Her green eyes widened delightfully as his fingers continued to explore her, trailing across her center. Luke had to grit his teeth at the feel of her wetness, but this wasn’t about him. It was about her. Eleanor. His wife.
With the greatest of effort, he eased one finger inside her, his touch gentle. Her whole body clenched around him and this time he couldn’t hold back the groan.
“Oh my. Oh my! That’s...That’s wonderful.”
He would have laughed if he could have but every effort was spent on making her ride the crest that soon took hold of her, drawing her up and over, crashing back on a cry that had him smiling, and wishing desperately that he wasn’t such a nice man.
Her eyes were already sliding shut as drowsiness and satisfaction oozed through her. Luke gave her one final kiss before forcing himself to get up and walk out of the room. He paused at the doorway, looked at her one last time. She was just so damn sweet, he thought. All fierce and spitting fire, but inside, she was kind and generous, honest and just...sweet. He shook his head, marveling, as he went to sleep in the other bedroom, alone.
Chapter 5
Days flew by, and then weeks. They grew ever closer, laughing and learning about each other as winter began to melt into spring. Every few days Luke would return from town with flowers, or jewelry. He even ordered an entire new wardrobe for her. How he knew her sizes she had no idea, but they had all fit perfectly when the trunk had arrived.
Even the scandalous one he had bought for her. Deep, deep red and cut so low she had blushed almost as bright as the dress itself when she’d glimpsed herself in the oval stand mirror.
After weeks had passed, Eleanor finally began to give in to that little kernel of hope. It had started out so small that first day, but with every one that passed, Luke proved that he was so much better than Jack. Better than she ever could have let herself imagine.
But she noticed something that started to bother her, a little at first, but then as each gift become more and more lavish and expensive her unease grew. The other thing that bothered her more and more: he didn’t try and touch her again. Not like that first night that had left her boneless and melting. Eleanor found herself craving the feel of touch again, but he kept his distance.
Not that he was cold or distant, quite the opposite, in fact. Finally, one night after he had come back from town, the smell of whisky heavy and sweet on his breath as he entered she worked up the courage. The light of the fireplace had dimmed to a glowing ember when she asked him, “Why do you keep buying me things?”
She started with the easy question. Eleanor wasn’t at all sure how to go about asking why he hadn’t slept with her. The thought alone was enough to make her blush and she was thankful for the dim light. He just shrugged, not looking at her.
“Why not? I like giving you things,” his words were slurred, and she realized he had drunk more than she’d suspected. Since her arrival, he had rarely gone back to the saloon, but there were times when he had stared at her with a pained expression before saying he was going into town.
“You have to stop, Luke. It’s too much.”
“What else do I have to to give you, Eleanor?” The words were shouted, and she took a step back before she could stop herself. This wasn’t Jack.
“What do you mean?”
“What do I have except money? Why did you even agree to this marriage in the first place?” he demanded, drunk and angry now. That old familiar, sick feeling slid through her like hot grease. Hesitantly, she told him the story. Of her husband, the drunk. How he broke into the factory, his father’s factory. And finally, the contract and the offer.
As she finished her sad tale, Eleanor forced herself to look up and immediately wished she hadn’t. The sneer on his face almost brought her to her knees.
“So, he bought you, like a common whore.”
She gasped in pain at his words. He took a stumbling step towards her, and running on instinct, leapt for the door. Every heartbreaking memory from her old life flooded her mind. She heard his yells echoing after her as she fled into the night.
Eleanor wasn’t sure how long she had walked, and as the darkness settled around her, she prayed she would make it back to town soon. She knew she was heading the right direction, having gone there several times with Luke, but she wasn’t sure how long it would take to walk.
The thought of him had her heart lurching painfully in her chest. How could she have trusted him? She shook her head angrily at herself. She knew better. The sound of horses and men had her slowing, suddenly doubting the wisdom of traveling the road alone, at night.
Eleanor tried to move further of to the side, but it was too late, they had already seen her.
“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” the words had fear instantly churning in her veins as she recognized one of the voices as the man who had grabbed her in the saloon all those weeks ago. She didn’t reply. Two of the men dismounted, circling her, and finally she had the strength to yell out for help. They crowded closer and closer, when suddenly another sound reached her ears.
A coach coming from the other direction. She looked up, hope shining bright in her eyes as they landed on the last person in the world she would have expected. None other than Augustus Wilder.
Chapter 6
Eleanor stared into Augustus’ concerned gaze, so much like his sons, over the steaming mug of hot tea. He had offered to put a splash of ‘courage’ in it, as he called it, but declined. Whisky had caused enough problems in her life.
“So, let me get this straight. Things were going well, and then my son did something to muck things up, does that about cover it?”
Her lips curved in a small grin despite herself. “Yeah, that about covers it.” She said softly, taking another sip of the warming liquid. The older man sighed balefully before taking a sip of his own tea. He stared down into his mug for a long minute before looking up at her again.
“I want you to understand, I just wanted the best for him. For both of you.” He shook his head again. “He was wandering, listless. No meaning to his life, you know? And then I saw you, so pretty, such spirit,” Eleanor couldn’t help but smile again at the sincerity in his voice. “You didn’t take no guff from me, you sure as heck wouldn’t take none from that no good son of mine.”
They shared a grin at that, but Eleanor’s slowly faded.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t as strong as you thought I was, Mr. Wilder.”
“Balderdash! And please, call me Augustus. You were stronger...you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. I know what type of man your passed husband was, I asked around before contacting you.” He looked at her with sadness in his dark eyes. “You deserved so much better, and I thought, well, I had hoped my son could be capable of that, with a little encouragement.�
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“I guess we were both wrong.”
Augustus sighed, long and low. “I guess we were.” He stood then, gesturing for her to do the same. “It’s late, my dear. These old bones need their rest. You can use the bedroom upstairs to the right. Stay as long as you need.”
“Thank you so much.” She said, touched at his kindness. She turned to head up the stairs when his voice stopped her.
“You can go if you’d like. I can tear up that daft contract and you can leave. Start over. You can still have the money.”
“But I–.”
“Just think about it, dear. Good night.”
“Good…good night, Augustus. And thank you.” Startled, saddened, she walked upstairs and into the bedroom, her thoughts tumbling wildly after their conversation. It took a long time for Eleanor to fall into a restless, dream filled slumber.
Luke stared at the half empty bottle blearily, his chest tight and breath coming in gasps as the scene played over and over in his head. His reckless words, and Eleanor, flinching away from him, fear shining bright and terrible in her beautiful green eyes. Those eyes should never hold fear, especially of him.
It cut at him mercilessly, that memory. He moved to take another desperate slug from the bottle but something stopped him. With a sudden resolution he grabbed the bottle, and then walked outside, pouring the liquid out on the ground. He never would have said those things, acted that way, if he hadn’t been drinking. He had broken his promise to her because of it, he had hurt her. And had driven her away.
He needed her, Luke realized. He was a better man with her, more descent, more caring. Luke felt like he had been living a half life before she had stomped into it, full blown and guns firing. The thought made his smile. His spit fire. His wife. The woman he loved.
Determined now, he stalked into the night, intent on going and bring her her back any way he could. He’d beg or plead. Whatever it took. She must have headed toward town, there was no where else to go except for his father’s house on the other end of the family’s property. It was a good deal closer than the the hours it would take for her to walk to town. Still unsteady from the drink he had imbibed early, Luke took off on foot towards the main house.
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