Moonwitch

by Nicole Jordan

  “How is she?” Kyle said without preamble, the intensity of his tone made harsher by protective concern.

  A heaviness centered in Selena’s chest as she met Kyle’s gaze. “Danielle is fine.”

  “I intend to call on her.”

  “Of course. It would look odd if you stayed away.”

  “How is Clay taking it?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see him. Orrin is keeping him, I understand.”

  “The devil he is,” Kyle muttered, his jaw hardening.

  Selena searched his face, wondering if he meant to challenge Orrin for the right to keep Clay. She thought such an action might only cause more difficulty for Danielle, but this didn’t seem the time to argue with Kyle. Selena nodded mutely when he told her not to hold dinner for him, and she silently watched him ride away.

  Orrin must have prevailed, however, for Kyle returned to Montrose without his son. Selena could only guess how Kyle felt about it, for he didn’t share his thoughts with her, and indeed, remained grimly uncommunicative for the two days before the funeral. But she knew it was troubling him and wished there was something she could do to help ease his pain.

  The morning the ceremony was to be held, she found Kyle in his study, staring sightlessly out the window at the moss-shrouded oaks of Montrose.

  He didn’t acknowledge her entrance or even her presence when she came to stand by his side. When he didn’t speak, she lightly touched his arm. “Kyle, what is it?”

  For a moment she didn’t think he would answer. When at last he did, she could hear the quiet anguish in his voice. “Clay is over two years old, Selena. Do you know how many hours I’ve spent in his company? A score. Less than two days. Orrin spends more time with my son in a week than I’ve spent in his entire life.”

  Selena hesitated, not knowing how to offer him comfort. “What do you mean to do?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head in despair. “The only option I have is to adopt Clay.”

  Selena digested his declaration in silence. “I’m not sure that would work,” she said finally.

  “Why not? It’s a reasonable solution. I’m much more capable of providing for Clay than Danielle is. I would continue to give her financial support, of course, so she won’t have to worry on that account.”

  “Even so, I don’t think she would accept your offer. I very much doubt she would be willing to give up her son. Clay is all she has now.”

  Bowing his head, Kyle shut his eyes. He didn’t want to hear the truth. He didn’t want to be told he could never be a father to his son, even if his reasons for wanting Clay were selfish ones. “And what of my responsibility to Clay? Should I just dismiss that?”

  “I think,” Selena said softly, “you must do what’s best for the child.”

  Kyle raised his gaze to stare out the window. However much he didn’t want to listen, he knew she was right. He couldn’t take the boy from his mother, even if his claim had the practical aspects of wealth and a stable home to bolster it. Besides, Danielle would never consent to giving up Clay. And to fight her for him would publicly brand them both. He couldn’t do that. But God, it hurt.

  Selena felt the grief he was going through. Forcing herself to wait, she watched Kyle trying to come to terms with the situation, a heaviness squeezing her heart.

  The heaviness, however, became a sudden hollowness in the pit of her stomach as a different thought struck her. Danielle was free to marry again—or would be, after a proper period of mourning. If Kyle had been similarly free, he would have been able to claim his son through marriage.

  That realization must have occurred to Kyle, Selena reflected.

  Miserably she searched his face, but she saw nothing in his expression to suggest that he wasn’t bitterly regretting his marriage to her.

  “Kyle…I’m sorry. If you hadn’t married me, you would be free to make Clay your son, as you once planned.”

  He shrugged heavily. When he finally met her gaze, there was a bleakness in his eyes that tore at her heart. “Well, I’m not free. So don’t even think of it.”

  The quiet words did nothing to quell the ache or dispel the cold knot that had formed in her stomach.

  The service for Jeremiah Whitfield was held in an old Spanish parish house, since Natchez didn’t yet boast any Protestant churches. His body was laid to rest in the town’s burying ground. There were numerous damp eyes and grieving faces among the attending crowd, for Jeremiah had been well liked and pitied for the terrible tragedy that had befallen him. And the sight of his beautiful widow garbed in black with the small, bewildered boy clinging to her hand was enough to wring tears from granite.

  Selena watched Danielle and Clay as the final prayers were said, unable to tear her eyes away, her heart aching for them and for herself, as well. But her attention was focused on Kyle. She was conscious of the tension emanating from him as he stood beside her, as if he were forcing himself to remain dispassionate and detached. His eyes remained on his son.

  Just then, as Danielle scooped up a handful of earth and sprinkled it over the coffin, Clay whimpered and broke away from his mother with a cry of “Papa!” He ran through the crowd, short legs churning, and with a sob launched his small body at Orrin’s knees.

  Without hesitation Orrin bent and caught the weeping boy up in his arms, holding him close and murmuring soft reassurances as Clay hid his face from the crowd.

  Like the other mourners, Selena had been watching the child, but then she glanced up at Kyle and caught the naked pain on his face. Her heart twisted for his agony, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Kyle had to accept for himself that he was losing his son to another man.

  The service over, Kyle drove Selena home in the gig. His grim mood had, if anything, intensified, and he spoke not at all for the first part of the journey. Selena didn’t press him, for she could sense his simmering anger waiting to boil. Yet the presence of such powerful emotions dismayed her. Danielle was so heartachingly beautiful, it wasn’t beyond possibility that Kyle had fallen in love with her, despite his denial. At the very least, his feelings for Danielle were augmented by his despair over his son.

  The thought only intensified the hollow, sick feeling in the pit of Selena’s stomach.

  It wasn’t helped, either, by Kyle’s abrupt announcement when they were halfway to Montrose.

  “I intend to return to town this afternoon,” he said in a low, fierce tone. “I want to comfort Clay. A boy needs his father.”

  When Selena didn’t answer immediately, Kyle shot her a dark look. “If you mean to suggest that I’ll be promoting a scandal, you can save your breath. I’m not going to let that stand between me and my son.”

  As if the thought further roused his fury, Kyle slapped the reins against the bay horse, startling the animal into a dancing gait. “God, I’m sick to death of the sanctimonious gabblemongers in this town, always thinking they have the right to throw the first stone.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of the scandal,” Selena replied, her throat tight. “I was considering Danielle’s feelings. This is not the time to be fighting with her over her son.”

  “Fiend seize it, he’s my son, too! My only son.”

  Selena stiffened. Given a chance, she, too, could provide Kyle with sons. “You seem to have forgotten,” she retorted, heat rising to her cheeks, “that you have a wife now who can give you children.”

  “I don’t want other children! I want Clay.”

  The angry words were like a blow. And they brought sudden tears to Selena’s eyes. Clenching her teeth to hold them back, she averted her face and stared blindly at the passing scenery.

  When Kyle glanced at her a moment later, he swore softly, as if he had just realized what he’d said. “God, I didn’t mean that,” he ground out. When she didn’t reply, he hastily drew the bay to a halt and turned to her, grasping her arm. “Look, Selena, it was a stupid, childish thing to say. I lost my temper. This situation with Clay is driving me insane, but that’
s no excuse to lash out at you.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly, choking back her tears.

  “Yes, it does matter, of course it matters.”

  “Very well. I accept your apology.”

  “Selena…” He hesitated, placing a finger under her chin to make her meet his gaze. “Look, I know this isn’t fair to you, and I don’t mean to put you through this. I just don’t know how to deal with losing Clay.”

  Selena nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “I have to return to town. I need to discuss the future with Danielle, to decide what we’ll do about Clay.”

  “Kyle…” Her voice was so unsteady that she swallowed. “No matter how much it hurts, you can’t take him away from Danielle.”

  He looked away, raking his fingers through his hair. “I realize that.”

  “I understand how painful it is to accept,” she insisted quietly. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

  After a moment, Kyle nodded and released her arm. He didn’t reply, but inside he knew she was right. He could never have Clay as his son; he would have to accept that. He had to let go. Gathering the reins, he set the horse in motion and didn’t speak for the remainder of the brief ride.

  He was too wrapped up in his own suffering to realize he’d left Selena prey to her doubts and fears. When they reached Montrose, he handed her down from the gig and ordered his roan saddled. Selena watched him ride out, a wretched knot of despair lying cold and hard in her stomach. If she could be sure it was only his son Kyle was longing for and not Danielle, she might have found his leaving easier to bear.

  He hadn’t returned by the time she retired for the night. Restless and aching, she lay awake in the darkness, staring at the canopy above her bed, watching the shifting shadows made by the flowering almond outside the window.

  She heard him come in sometime before midnight. Without meaning to, Selena listened intently to the quiet sounds he made as he moved around his room. The slight noises eventually ceased, yet the heavy silence felt tense and alive.

  Nearly half an hour later she heard the slight click of the latch as the door to her bedchamber slowly opened. Hesitantly, she sat up, hardly daring to breathe as she pushed aside the swaths of mosquito netting. Kyle stood without moving in the doorway, fingers of moonlight playing on his rugged features and reflecting from the dark green brocade of his dressing gown. His dark hair was tousled, and there was a rough shadow of a beard on his jaw. It was the first time since their marriage that he had come to her room at night, but though she could hope, she couldn’t be sure of his intent. His eyes, like his expression, were inscrutable.

  Her own eyes wide with uncertainty, Selena watched as Kyle quietly shut the door behind him and crossed the room to her bedside. She could feel her heart pounding in slow, sharp pulses as he stared down at her.

  “You were right,” Kyle whispered, “about Clay. I have to give him up, no matter how much it hurts.”

  The pain in his voice was soft and throbbing. Wanting to offer comfort, she reached up to give him her hand.

  Yes, he thought, help me ease the hurt.

  His fingers curled over hers, warm and pleading, like the dark message in his eyes. Without releasing his grasp, Kyle slowly sat beside her.

  “Selena.” He said it like a caress. “My wise, understanding Selena.” And when she moved into his arms, he gathered her against him with a tenderness that stirred hope as well as desire and longing in her heart.

  With a sigh, Selena pressed her cheek against the tightly curving muscles of his chest, where his dressing gown had parted. He was naked beneath, and she could feel her cool flesh warming against the satin of his bare skin. She wanted to ask him about Danielle, but she couldn’t bear to hear the answer and destroy this moment. Instead, she closed her eyes, listening to the vital rhythm of his heart mate with his breathing.

  But Kyle’s heart wasn’t as tranquil as the steady tempo suggested. Indeed, it ached… for the loss he had sustained…for the woman in his arms. Selena was so very beautiful—her slender, white body bare except for the gauzy film of her nightdress, her pale hair kissed by moonlight. That image had burned itself in his memory weeks ago, indelible and strong. It was that image he remembered first whenever she was away from him. That was what had sustained him tonight during the long hours while he struggled with the bitterness of losing his son. Selena was right. He had to consider Clay’s best interests and not his own selfish needs. That knowledge had kept him from returning to town. Instead, he had gone to the fields, where he had tried to work out his frustration physically—to dull the grief that was tearing at his insides.

  It hadn’t helped, nor had the hours of hard riding afterward. Yet it was only after he had returned home that he realized he was searching in the wrong direction for the wrong remedy. He had only to look close to home to find what he sought. Selena. She could assuage his pain. She could heal his aching heart. She could give him the solace he so badly needed.

  He had been slow to realize it… unforgivably so. He had spoken in bitterness and anger, wounding her without meaning to. If he had driven her away, it was only what he deserved, Kyle told himself savagely.

  Yet he didn’t mean that. He was quite certain that the despair he had felt over losing any chance to be a father to his son would never match the bleakness he’d feel if Selena turned away from him.

  Disquieted by the sudden thought, Kyle drew back, searching her face, trying to measure the effect of his earlier ill-considered words. Her expression was expectant, waiting, and he was caught in the quiet, solemn depth of her calm blue eyes. You understood all along, didn’t you? he asked silently. You understood and cared.

  “I didn’t mean what I said this afternoon,” he murmured. “About not wanting other children.”

  Selena held her breath, watching him.

  “And I don’t want to be free of you simply so I can claim Clay.” Still holding her gaze, Kyle carried her hand to his lips, brushing his mouth over each finger in turn. “I want you, Moonwitch. Very much.”

  Not “I need you” or “I love you,” but “I want you,” Selena thought. But it would have to do.

  When she tried to move into his embrace, once more, though, Kyle held her away. “Selena, it was true once,” he said urgently, wanting to explain. “I never wanted a wife. I only wanted the sea… the freedom and challenges it gave me.”

  He saw something like sorrow flicker in her eyes before she quietly replied, “I know.”

  “But I’ve since come to change my mind. You’ve made my life here bearable…no, much more than that. Happy. You’ve made this a home.” That also was true, he reflected. She had made his life far easier, more comfortable with her gentle touches and quiet, determined ways. He still missed the sea sometimes, but his yearning for freedom was fast fading…because he had found something even more fulfilling.

  But he faltered when it came to explaining that to her, for he couldn’t find the right words, never having felt anything quite like what he was experiencing…this swelling in his heart, this burgeoning ache that was such a profound mixture of tenderness and desire.

  But explanations weren’t what Selena wanted from Kyle anyway, nor praise for her domestic abilities. She wanted reassurance that she had no reason to be jealous of Danielle. And she wasn’t sure Kyle could give it.

  “No, please,” she said, her voice low and hushed. “Don’t talk. Just hold me…kiss me.”

  He took her mouth, trying with the gentle play of his lips to express what he was feeling. And Selena responded in kind. When his kiss questioned, asking forgiveness, hers answered and gave it. When his tongue sought hers, stirring and soothing, she matched him with an abandoned intimacy. Yet when his kiss deepened, promising pleasure and lavish sensuality, hers did more; it vowed peace. Kyle accepted her unspoken pledge cautiously, his body trembling with the powerful sensations it engendered.

  His vulnerable response resto
red some of her shaken confidence. With love for him welling inside her, she reached up to hold his face with her slender hands.

  He could think of only one thing. Yes… Yes, touch me, Moonwitch, with your cool hands and quicksilver passion. Take me inside you, into your serene world of shadows and silver-bright light....

  His breathing altered, and his lips moved to her hair as he drew off her nightdress. When he had shed his dressing gown, he joined her quickly, wanting and finding the fulfillment she’d promised; her mouth was welcoming, her body completely yielding to his as he possessed her.

  And Selena quivered in turn as she dissolved into throbbing, impassioned need. He filled her completely, moving over her, within her, unraveling the hard knot of doubt and pain.

  Later, as they lay entwined, their skin damp and clinging, their heartbeats gradually slowing, Kyle finally let his drifting mind focus on the turmoil that had raged inside him from the first time he’d met Selena.

  He’d once thought it was his son he was fighting for. But he’d been fighting against himself, Kyle realized suddenly. Against the admission that he needed and wanted Selena.

  Yet to be truthful, it had never been much of a battle. He’d lost it the moment he’d kissed her on the streets of St. John’s.

  And having admitted that to himself, he could at last accept what he’d been too stubborn or too blind to see. His heart was irrevocably committed to Selena. He loved her.

  Kyle’s mouth fashioned in a twisted smile as he finally recognized the powerful emotion he’d been unable, perhaps unwilling to name. He had never thought he would find love; he’d always expected it to be something tantalizing and elusive, like Selena herself. Instead, it was like a tempest at sea, and it frightened him… both the force of it and the power it held over him.

  The trouble was, fear at sea could be deadly. He would have to face it, Kyle knew. But that he could handle. What scared the blazes out of him was the possibility that Selena didn’t return his feelings.