“I slapped you first.”
“Hell,” he breathed. “Anyway, I thought if I’d succeeded in getting you pregnant, you’d have to come to me.”
I stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent “oh.”
“I figured it worked well enough for women getting what they wanted, it ought to work as well for a man. Despicable, I know,” he said, reddening. “But I….” He stopped. “Oh, God, there’s no excuse for that, and I don’t blame you for hating me.”
“But I don’t hate you. Just tell me why you wanted me to come to you,” I pleaded, needing to know. I was filled with hope.
For a moment Jordan did not answer. Then he looked into my eyes. “Do you have to go, Abby? Couldn’t you change your mind and come back? I wouldn’t push you.” He stopped and shook his head. “No, I can’t promise I wouldn’t.” His voice was very dry, and he smiled mockingly.
“Jordan, please. Tell me why.”
“I guess you deserve your pound of flesh....”
“Jordan....” I leaned forward, putting my hands on his legs. He flinched as though in pain.
“I love you,” he said simply.
“Oh, Jordan. Was that so hard?”
His eyes moved over my face, and his expression changed drastically. He leaned forward so that our faces were close. “Abby,” he said, warningly, and I laughed joyously.
“I love you!” I cried.
Neither one of us moved for a full second. Then we were kissing hungrily, unable to get close enough, wanting to be skin to skin and even closer. It was Jordan who finally drew back. He was trembling, and he gave me a slightly baleful smile. “We’d better stop,” he rasped. “We can’t be more than a mile from Oakland, and I’d hate to shock the driver or get arrested.”
I laughed again. Joy was bursting inside me like Fourth of July fireworks.
“I thought you looked happy when you first opened your eyes and looked at me a while ago,” Jordan said. “Then you went all cold, and I didn’t know what to think. But I thought anything was worth trying to get you to come back.”
“I thought you’d guessed why I left.”
“Guessed what?” He frowned.
My laughter softened and stopped. “That your scheme worked.”
His brows drew down. “What do you mean?”
I smiled and moved his hand over my abdomen. His eyes dropped sharply, and then he looked up at me. “You’re pregnant?” I nodded, now slightly afraid of how he would take the news.
“That’s why you were sick,” he said. “I thought it was nerves.” Then his eyes narrowed and glittered with arrogant accusation. “And you were leaving! My God, Abby!”
I spread my hands. “I didn’t think you’d want to know. I thought you... Oh, Jordan, don’t you remember what you said to me that day at the river?”
“Before you ran off?” he asked, thinking back.
“Yes.”
“Not really. I never did understand what made you turn on me like that. Especially after—”
“You said I wasn’t at all a lady. You said—”
He put his fingers on my lips, and his mouth curved wryly. I flushed, and he went on. “Abby, the last place in the world a man wants his woman to behave like a lady is in bed... or in a field next to a river.” His eyes were laughing. He pulled me forward, giving me a hard, punishing kiss. Then he drew back. His eyes grew serious.
“I half expected you to go cold on me that day, to just ward off my efforts to make love to you. But, my God, you came alive! I’ve never felt so wonderful. Like I owned the whole damned universe as long as I had you. And then you hit me. You looked at me like you hated me, and you ran away. I couldn’t understand it. One minute, hot and giving everything to me, the next, cold and hating.”
“But I thought....”
“Never mind. I understand now, I should have been able to figure it out then.” His smile became teasing. “I assure you, honey, you’re a lady everywhere you ought to be.” He drew me onto his lap and held me tightly. Then his hand moved down to my abdomen. “You’re feeling all right now?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“I feel wonderful,” I said truthfully. What was a little morning sickness compared to this!
“And you were leaving,” he said shakily, faintly accusing. “Without even telling me about the baby. Where in hell were you going?”
“I hadn’t decided. Oregon. Washington. I didn’t know. Just away.” I couldn’t stop touching him, looking at him, and I knew that the feeling was mutual.
“If Matthew Hayes hadn’t ridden out to the ranch this morning, I don’t know when I would have come to town and found out you’d gone. I might never have found you again. And I would never have known about our baby.” He held me tighter. “By damn,” he said harshly, “I ought to beat you!”
I chuckled softly. “I’d rather you sought other ways to punish me, if you think you must.”
He cupped my chin, tilting my face up to his. His eyes were brilliant with laughter and comprehension. “You call that punishment?”
I tried to look serious. “Isn’t it?”
His mouth trailed down the side of my neck. “Maybe I’m not understanding you. Maybe you should tell me exactly what you mean,” he teased.
“I always tell my students to use their imaginations.”
“I’ve got a vivid imagination,” he breathed against my mouth. We did not speak for a long time. Then Jordan lifted me and set me back on the seat opposite him. “You’d better stay put,” he said hoarsely. “The stage driver be damned.”
“What do we do when we get to Oakland?” I asked, thinking of a wedding ceremony.
Jordan laughed. “What do you think?” Jordan was not thinking about a wedding. What he was thinking was very obvious.
I smiled mischievously. “Don’t you think you should marry me first?”
“You’ll get your church wedding all in due time, Miss McFarland. But not in the next twenty-four hours,” he told me. “Now, wipe the dust off your face, button up your blouse and act like a lady... for a little while anyway,” he commanded.
I made a face at him, but for the moment at least, I obeyed.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Sycamore Hill Page 33