by Verna Clay
One night, very late, she heard a soft knock and Brant entered her room before she was fully awake. He quietly closed the door. Still half asleep, she sat up and said groggily, "Brant?"
He walked to her bedside and sat down, which jerked her awake. "Is everything okay with the children?" she asked, alarmed.
"Everything's fine." He reached to push her long hair away from her face and his touch sent goose bumps down her spine. "Abby, it's time. I want you to come to my room."
Her comprehension was immediate and she couldn't make herself speak. Unexpectedly, he pulled her covers back, letting in the cold air, and lifted her into his arms. Her eyes went wide and her hair streamed over his forearms, hanging long and wavy. Quietly, he carried her from her room and into his.
* * *
Brant had been fighting his body's raging desires since his marriage and if he didn't give in soon, he'd never get any sleep. As it was, he was falling asleep on his horse while working each day. Tonight, he'd been staring at the ceiling for hours, imagining Abby in his bed. He was married to her, for god's sake. He had every right to sleep with her.
Lowering her to his bed, he pulled the covers up over her. Her wide-eyed stare made him smile. The thought of introducing her to the pleasures of the body aroused his body even more, if that were possible. Lightly, he kissed her lips and reached to turn off his lamp. He remembered Molly had wanted it off at first to hide her embarrassment. Women were strange creatures. They had beautiful bodies and yet wanted to hide in the dark. He would have loved keeping the light on.
In the dark he removed his long johns and crawled into bed beside her. He could hear her rapid breathing. He turned onto his side and lifted a hand to graze his knuckles down her cheek. Her breathing came faster. "Don't be afraid, Abby. I won't hurt you."
"I know you won't," she whispered back. Her blind trust twisted something in his heart and endeared her to him.
He smoothed his hand down her hair. "You have beautiful hair."
"Thank you. So do you," she said sweetly, and seemed to relax a little.
He moved his fingers back to her cheek and gently stroked. "I love your skin, so soft and creamy." Her breathing quickened and so did his. "I know these past weeks have been strained while everyone adjusts." He shifted his fingers to her neck and then her shoulder. Rising above her, he said, "I'm going to kiss you."
Her breathing had turned into little pants that were driving him crazy. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers, grazing her lips. She softly panted into his mouth, and it took all of his willpower not to touch her lips with his tongue. He wanted to invade her mouth with hot kisses, but he knew that would only frighten her. He moved his lips to the corner of her mouth, and then up her cheek to her eyes, her forehead, and then kissed the tip of her nose before moving back to her mouth. She arched into him and he smiled. He traced her shoulder and arm, before entwining his fingers with hers. She held tightly to his hand. He touched his tongue to her lips. Instead of flinching, like he had expected, she parted her lips. Slipping his tongue inside, he explored and increased the pressure. She squeezed his hand and caressed his chest with her free one before encircling his neck. Her response encouraged him and he freed his hand from hers, cupping her breast. She moaned and lifted into his hand, running her fingers through his hair. Unable to stop himself, he slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her with passion that kept welling up in his heart. She reciprocated his fervor, never flinching from him.
The foreplay was so enjoyable, that he continued it for a long time, cautiously moving his mouth to other parts of her body—neck, shoulders, ears, and finally her breasts. She whimpered and held his head to her. He fondled her through her clothing, and of her own volition, she reached to untie the ribbons of her gown. The fabric parted and he groaned in ecstasy when his mouth encountered her flesh. He lifted his head and spoke against her mouth, "I want you. Do you want me?"
"Oh, yes," she breathed, and moved her mouth to kiss his chest and lowered her hands to clutch his sides.
When his hands moved to the secret places of her body and she reacted with unabashed pleasure, he thought he might burst. After a long time, he entered her, slowly. Barely able to speak because of his passion, he said, "This will hurt."
"It's okay," she moaned, and lifted against him. The action broke through her barrier and he covered her mouth with his, moving his body slowly at first and then more rapidly when her fingers tightened until she was almost clawing his back and kissing him with unrestrained passion. Suddenly, she arched into him making little moaning sounds and he grinned, knowing he had pleased his wife. With a final thrust, he spilled his seed into her. They held tightly to each other, breathing rapidly. Rolling to the side, Brant stayed inside her and stroked her lovely hair, pulling her head to his chest. "Thank you, Abby," he said, and closed his eyes, finally able to sleep.
* * *
Abby turned to set more biscuits on the table and couldn't help sneaking peeks at Brant. Her night of passion in his arms had been the most magnificent happening of her entire life. She felt alive and caught herself smiling.
"Whatcha smiling at, Miz Abby?" asked Jenny.
Abby felt her cheeks burn and slid her gaze to Brant's. He looked amused and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Yes, Miz Abby, tell us why you're smiling."
Abby almost dropped the biscuits on the floor she felt so flustered. Brant's lips quirked as he waited for her response. His eyes twinkled when he said, "Is it because you know we're goin' to town to buy supplies and you've been eyeing some pretty fabric to make dresses for you and Jenny?"
Jenny squealed. "Oh, Pa, that's wonderful! Can we get some cloth for Ty and Luke, too? So they can have new shirts."
"I think we should ask Miz Abby about that."
"I'd love to sew clothing for all of you." She smiled shyly at Brant. "Even you."
"Then it's settled. New clothes for everyone."
"I don't need a new shirt," Luke broke the comradery.
Brant narrowed his eyes at his son and then glanced at Abby. She begged him with her eyes and a slight shake of her head not to chastise him.
Rising from the table, he said, "Have it your way, son. Best finish your breakfast. We've got a full day ahead of us." He looked at Abby. "Can I see you outside for a minute?"
"Of course." She grabbed her cape and followed him onto the porch and around to the side of the house. Was he unhappy about something she'd done? Just when she rounded the corner, he grabbed her and pulled her into his embrace, planting a long kiss on her lips. Lifting his head slightly, he asked, "So tell me why you're really smiling, Miz Abby."
Happiness bubbled inside her and she placed her arms around his neck. "I think you know."
"No, tell me."
"It's because you're buying fabric so everyone can have new clothes."
Brant chuckled and placed his lips against her ear and whispered, "And I thought it might have something to do with my kisses."
"Well, maybe a little of that, too."
Walking her backwards, he pressed her against the cabin and gently lifted her chin before covering her mouth with fervent kisses. She moaned and clutched the fabric of his shirt. She loved the taste of him. They heard the front door open and jumped apart.
Brant said with a smile tilting one side of his mouth, "I'll see you…tonight." Stepping around her, he followed Luke to the barn.
Abby spent the rest of the day reliving her introduction into the intimacies of marriage. Muttering to herself, she asked, "Abby, have you found your own happily-ever-after?"
Chapter 11: Tidings of Great Joy
Despite Luke's glowering presence, the next few weeks became heaven on earth for Abby. Brant insisted that she move into his room and, although it felt strange sharing a bedroom with a man, she welcomed his presence, even longed for it. Gradually, he became more affectionate in front of the children, lightly kissing her goodbye every morning. But at night—how she longed for her nights with him—his passion knew no
bounds, and she found herself testing the limits of her own passion, doing things with a man she would never have imagined as her former self—Abigail.
Winter set in and many evenings Brant and Abby took turns reading stories to the children. On a blustery November night after they'd tucked Ty and Jenny in and Luke had climbed to the loft, she teased Brant, "In one of your letters, you said you were the son of a school teacher. Were you the teacher's pet?"
He chuckled, "Definitely, not. My mother went out of her way to make sure I never got preferential treatment. Even so, I was too mischievous to become teacher's pet."
Abby reached to pet Wally stretched out before the hearth and chanced another question. "Are your mother and father still living?"
His expression turned sad. "I never knew my father. He drowned shortly after I was born while fording a river after a heavy rain. My mother was well educated, having been born in Boston to a wealthy family. When she met my father, a cowpoke, and fell in love, her family cut ties with her. She came out west with my father and settled in East Texas. After a couple of years, I was born, and then she was alone after his death. She refused to ask for charity from her estranged family, and when a teaching position was advertised in Ft. Worth, she applied and got hired. She sold our small place and taught in Ft. Worth until I was about eleven. Then she heard about a school needing a teacher in Two Rivers. She said she was up for a challenge and we moved here."
"She never remarried?"
"No. She had a few gentleman callers, but she always told me she was a one-man woman, and no one could live up to my pa."
Abby glanced at her lap, his words hitting close to home and making her wonder if he was a one-woman man because he'd only remarried out of necessity.
He continued, "My mother died when I was twenty-one. Doc Henry said it was because she had a weak heart. We'd always lived in a small house near town provided for her because she was the teacher. After Molly and I married we lived with her while I worked cattle drives saving money to buy my own place. When my mother died, doc gave me a letter she'd written because she'd known her time was short. Seems she'd also been saving for years for me to buy a ranch. I used the money we'd both saved and put a down payment on this land." He turned quiet after that and Abby almost wished she hadn't asked about his family. Unexpectedly, he said, "What about your father and mother? You said they were older when you were born."
"Yes, they were in their forties and never expected to have a child after being married for twenty years with no children. They were both teachers." She confided, "I wanted so much to have a brother or sister. My childhood was very lonely. By the time I was a teenager, my parents both had failing health. Other than a love for children, one of the reasons I became a teacher was so I could help with the family finances. When I wasn't teaching, I was caring for my parents. They died within six months of each other. My father had a small inheritance that he supported the family with after he became too ill to work, but by the time he died, it was all gone. The only thing left was the house, which I still own."
After their confidences, they sat in silence, listening to the crackle and fizz of the fire.
Whereas previously Abby had been teaching the children at the kitchen table, she now set up a schoolroom in the bedroom she'd vacated. Against Luke's protests, two hours were set aside every day for class and the children did homework in the evenings. Brant and Luke built a table long enough for Luke and Jenny to sit side by side, and the remaining wood scraps were made into a tiny table and stool for Ty.
Once, when Abby had offered to give Brant all of her savings to be used for the family, he'd adamantly refused. In fact, he'd become downright irritated. He'd said a man provided for his family and not the other way around. When she'd told him it wasn't much, he'd still refused. That night, she'd had to kiss him back into a good mood. After that, she didn't bring up the subject of money anymore.
So, when she needed a blackboard with erasers and chalk for her little schoolroom, she'd given in to a spur of the moment decision and told a white lie. She'd said she had a blackboard stored with a friend in Philadelphia and was having it shipped, when, in actuality, she'd purchased it and asked the storekeeper not to say anything because it was a surprise. Now, plagued by guilt, her heart waged a war of whether to come clean with Brant about her deception.
* * *
The swiftly approaching Christmas season had Abby wondering what gift to give each family member. Because Brant didn't want her using her money on the family, she couldn't just buy them gifts. Besides, she wanted to create something with her own hands, showing each of them how much she loved them. Shortly after her marriage she'd acknowledged to herself that she cared deeply for Brant. From the beginning she'd loved his children, but fear of losing her heart to a man who still loved his first wife, had kept her from giving it freely. After their intimacies, however, she could no longer hold herself aloof. Whether he loved her or not, she loved him beyond measure.
After much consideration, she decided to knit socks and scarves for each of them. When the children were asleep, she'd sit in the rocker by the fire and work on her gifts while Brant worked on his ranch books at the table, keeping track of his herd and expenses. Often, she'd see worry lines crease the sides of his mouth, but he never shared his worries with her. Sometimes, they'd just sit in their rockers talking about their day or upcoming projects around the ranch.
Jenny began marking off the days until Christmas and made everyone, even Luke, laugh at her enthusiasm.
A week before Christmas, Brant returned from town with a large wrapped package. Standing on the porch, Abby took one look and knew it was the chalkboard. Brant didn't look happy.
"Abby, can I see you a minute?"
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "Of course."
He headed toward the barn and Abby handed Ty to Jenny. Luke looked curiously from Abby to his father and then walked back in the house.
When they reached the barn, Brant said softly, "Why didn't you tell me you were buying a chalkboard? I saw the sales ticket. You lied to me, Abby."
Abby berated herself for her foolishness in not telling him. "I-I knew you didn't want me using my money for the family and you need all of yours for running the ranch. I needed a chalkboard and…" Her voice faltered. "I'm sorry I deceived you. It'll never happen again."
Brant sighed. "How much money did you spend? I'm going to repay you."
Abby gulped and defied him. "No, you're not."
Brant furrowed his forehead. "Yes, I am. How much do I owe you?"
His words stung and she said sharply, "I can't believe you just said that. Do you think you owe me money? Have I no participation in this family other than cooking and cleaning and satisfying your man's desires?" She turned on her heel and started to walk swiftly away.
Brant stepped in front of her. "Abby, you know that's not what I meant."
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. "No, I don't know that."
Her husband removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "Please don't put words in my mouth."
"Alright, I won't put words in your mouth if you won't consider that you owe me something. What I do, I do freely from my heart."
Brant settled his hat back on, puffed a breath, and said quietly, "Fair enough. Just promise you'll come to me if you need something else so we can talk about it." He reached and trailed his fingers down her cheek.
"I promise."
Three days before Christmas, Brant said it was time to go in search of the tree, and Jenny and Ty shouted their joy. While Abby bundled them up, she grinned happily at Brant. Although he smiled back, she recognized the familiar sadness in his eyes. With a wife's instinct, she knew he was remembering Christmases with Molly. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she pretended happiness for the sake of the children, realizing, once again, she could never live up to the character of the beautiful woman who had come before her. As usual, Luke joined them only when ordered by his father.
Wally barked his agreement and Abby put her arm around Jenny's shoulders. "You're right. It's going to make a beautiful Christmas tree. We'll have so much fun decorating it."
"Oh, yes, Mama, I can't wait!"
Brant stopped in the midst of lifting his axe and Luke made an unintelligible sound.
Abby whooshed into the frosty air. Turning her head swiftly, she fingered tears from the corners of her eyes at hearing Jenny call her Mama.
Brant swung the axe and asked Luke to carry the tree back to the cabin. Silently, the boy tossed it over his shoulder and walked swiftly ahead of everyone. Inside their home, he laid it against the wall and then, at his father's request, went to the shed to make a stand to nail it to.
After supper, Abby helped Jenny and Ty decorate the tree with paper chains and dough ornaments they'd made. When Jenny asked her father to bring out their other ornaments, he said quietly, "Not this year."
"But Pa, they're so pretty."
"Not this year, Jenny."
After Abby tucked Ty and Jenny into bed and told them a story, she walked back to an empty room, sadly looking at the tree. The joy of the season had left with Brant's and Luke's sorrow. She wrapped herself in a blanket and walked onto the porch to sit in one of the rockers and stare at a cloudless night. Snow dustings gave the ranch an ethereal quality and she lost herself in the beauty of nature.
When Brant walked over from the barn, he said, "It's a beautiful night."
"Yes."