by Craig, Emma
No answer from the bed. Aw, hell, now what? He sensed it was too late to take anything back—besides, he didn’t really want to. Or, if he did, he knew the desire to be cowardly, because he meant every word. He didn’t seem to be making much headway with Joy, however. He plunged blindly onward. “So you don’t need to think I can’t take care of you the way you deserve to be taken care of. I can support you. Maybe we won’t ever be rich, but—”
“Be quiet this instant, Elijah Perry, and kiss me.”
It took Elijah only a moment to assimilate the import of Joy’s command, and when he did, he didn’t bother to analyze it but took her literally. When Mac and Virginia tiptoed back into Joy’s room with the agent Mr. Hezekiah P. Thrash had sent from the South American jungles, Elijah and Joy were locked in an embrace that looked as if it would take dynamite to break apart.
Chapter Nineteen
Mr. Thrash’s agent, Mr. Farthingale, picked up his teacup with two fingers and sipped delicately before he resumed frowning at Joy.
“I’m not sure I entirely understand you, Miss Hardesty. Mr. Thrash sent me here—a long way, I can assure you—because he said you were strong in the faith and desired to join his mission.”
“I am strong in the faith,” Joy said, striving with every nerve in her body to maintain her ladylike manner. “I fear my life has taken a turn, however, and I shan’t be joining Mr. Thrash’s fine work.”
Mr. Farthingale eyed her with distaste. “Mr. Thrash isn’t going to like this.”
“Mr. Thrash has nothing to say about it.”
Joy turned to scowl at Elijah, whose expression was stormy. Mr. Farthingale looked fairly stormy himself when he glanced at Elijah. Joy sighed. “I fear Mr. Perry is correct, Mr. Farthingale, even if he wasn’t very diplomatic. If Mr. Thrash had waited a while before he sent you to Rio Hondo, he would have received the letter I planned to write him explaining the change in my circumstances.”
Still looking annoyed, Mr. Farthingale said, “Which are?” He appeared almost as disapproving as Joy’s mother used to.
Joy reacted to his expression more strongly than she intended. “Mr. Perry and I are going to be married, Mr. Farthingale, and we plan to settle here, in Rio Hondo. I fear Mr. Thrash made a false assumption about my willingness to join him after he deserted me here without so much as an explanation to me. He didn’t even see fit to write me an explanatory note.” She sniffed and glared at Mr. Farthingale, daring him with her eyes to take issue with her assessment of Mr. Thrash’s behavior.
Farthingale sat up straighter in his chair. “Well! I never.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” said Joy.
Elijah gave a quick snort of amusement and stepped forward from where he’d been leaning against the wall of Joy’s room, next to the door. “Listen, Mr. Farthingale. You’re not going to change Joy’s mind, so you might as well take the news with good grace. There’s no reason to go away mad.”
“That’s true, Mr. Farthingale.” Joy offered Mr. Thrash’s emissary a conciliatory smile, which he did not return
“Right. As long as you go away, everything will be just fine.”
Joy wished she were fit enough to be out of bed. She’d stomp on Elijah’s foot for being so outrageous. “He didn’t really mean that,” she muttered, glaring at Elijah.
“I did too.” He glared back at her.
Mr. Farthingale set his tea cup down with a clink. “I see. It seems to me that I’ve wasted my time and that of Mr. Thrash by coming here. His time is valuable, you know, Miss Hardesty. As is mine. We’re both needed in Mexico.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” she murmured, wishing he’d shut up and leave. “Er, I’m sure Mr. McMurdo will be pleased to give you some stew and cornbread, Mr. Farthingale, before you have to set out for Mexico again.” She decided they’d all be better off if she didn’t mention the beer.
With a somewhat bitter-sounding huff, Mr. Farthingale bowed formally and left the room, brushing by Elijah without comment. Joy was interested to notice how insubstantial Farthingale looked next to Elijah. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. Her headache was almost gone by this time. She was surprised her confrontation with Farthingale hadn’t brought it thundering back.
“How are you feeling, Joy?”
She started, not having anticipated Elijah’s voice coming to her from so close. The last she’d seen him, he’d been nearly across the room. Opening her eyes, she saw him standing at the head of her bed, gazing down at her with an expression she’d never seen on his face before, and had never expected to see on any man’s face directed at her. She smiled up at him, feeling tender and full of love.
“I’m much better, thank you.”
“I’m glad of that.” The soft expression vanished and was replaced by a frown. “If you ever do anything so harebrained as climb a tree again, I swear I’ll turn you over my knee and paddle you.”
She felt her lips pinch up. “You will do no such thing, Elijah Perry. You have no right to paddle me. Or to do anything else to me, for that matter.”
“I will have.” He yanked over the chair Farthingale had lately vacated and straddled it. “As soon as we’re married, I’ll be able to beat you every day if I want to.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
“If you ever so much as lay a hand on me, Elijah Perry, I’ll shoot you where you stand.”
They glared at each other for a full minute before Elijah threw his head back and roared with laughter. After another tense moment, Joy joined him.
# # #
That night, Joy felt restless. She’d slept most of the day since her accident, and now that her headache was gone she was discovering sleep difficult to find again.
Not only that, but in a shocking statement of freedom from her mother’s dicta, she’d taken off her corset. She aimed to sleep without it on for the rest of her life, too. Elijah would be pleased, she was sure.
Joy was pretty pleased herself. She felt brave and daring, even though she thought the feeling was probably ridiculous. After all, it was only a corset. Existing sans corset was more comfortable than trying to live with it, to be sure. Removing it, however, was so absolutely contrary to everything she’d ever been taught that she felt funny about it. But free. She even did a few deep-breathing exercises as she sat in bed and smiled, all alone in her bedroom. It felt delicious to be able to draw in big breaths without whalebone stabbing her in the ribs.
“Learn something every day,” she muttered to the ceiling.
An early summer thunderstorm raged outside her window, crashing and banging for all it was worth. Intrigued and not a little alarmed by the commotion, Joy finally gave up on sleep, climbed from her bed, dragged a chair to the window, and sat.
She pulled back the curtains, recalling with a smile the day Elijah had bullied her into opening them for the first time. How long ago that seemed. And how frightened of him she’d been. And now they were going to be married. It didn’t seem possible.
Elation filled her as she watched the thunderbolts light up the sky. They were coming so fast and furiously that the entire universe seemed bathed in a white light. The noise was tremendous. Joy wondered if battlegrounds sounded like that. The ground here was so hard, the water had a difficult time sinking in, and it had already made a lake of Mr. McMurdo’s wagon yard. She was glad he’d had the foresight to build his house and store up from the flat of the plains, or his store would be flooded.
The violence of the storm thrilled her, even if it was incredibly noisy. Here was another indication that she wasn’t the daughter her mother wanted her to be. She didn’t flinch from thunder and lightning, as a properly submissive female should do, but gloried in the ferocious display of Nature. Tonight she didn’t give a rap—even half a rap—about how disappointed her mother would be in her. She was disappointed in her mother, if it came to that, and she’d never, ever, ever treat any children she and Elijah were blessed with as her mother had treated her.
>
“Whether you meant it or not, Mother, you were a beast to me, and I resent you for it.” She even blew a raspberry at her mother’s memory and giggled at herself. Then she decided she wasn’t going to waste a perfectly good thunderstorm pondering her mother.
With her elbows propped on the windowsill, Joy recalled her day. She’d actually enjoyed climbing that tree. And, really, if it hadn’t begun to rain, she expected she’d have been able to get down safely. Of course, women were hampered a good deal by their corsets and petticoats. Next time she tried to climb a tree, Joy decided, she’d wear breeches. The notion of Joy Hardesty donning breeches and climbing trees was so radical, she giggled again.
“What are you laughing about?”
Joy jumped up from her chair, sending it toppling over backwards, and whirled around to find Elijah standing at the doorway, his hand still on the knob, watching her. She slammed a hand over her heart. “You scared the tar out of me, Elijah Perry! What are you sneaking up on me for?”
“I was worried about you, Joy. You ought to know that by now. You suffered a terrible fall, and now it’s raining cats and dogs. I was afraid you’d be scared.”
Oh, how sweet. Memories returned in a rush, and Joy smiled at the love of her life. He’d actually gone so far as to cry over her. She held out her hand to him. “Come over here and help me watch the storm. It’s beautiful.”
Flashes of light from the storm illuminated his face and form in unforgiving brightness. She saw the lines on his dear countenance, and the gray in his receding hair. She even noticed his slight paunch, back again since he was nearly recovered from his terrible injuries. She was pleased as punch to see it, too. She wanted him whole; as he was. She didn’t want any artificiality between them. The good Lord knew, he’d known her at her very worst, and he loved her anyway.
“The storm’s not the only beautiful thing around here tonight, Joy.”
Merciful heavens, did he mean her? Suddenly shy, Joy didn’t dare ask. She did, however, toss her head in a pert, womanly gesture wholly unlike the Joy Hardesty she used to be, but very much like the Joy Hardesty she’d become.
Without another word, Elijah walked over and took her hand. He stood gazing down at her in a way that unsettled her, until she got nervous and turned again toward the window. “See? Isn’t that something.”
“It is.”
She wasn’t sure he was talking about the storm, but decided to pretend he was. “Nature’s putting on quite a performance out there.”
He sighed. Joy got the impression he’d given up on something, but she wasn’t sure what. “Yep. It’s a real show, all right.”
In a quick move, Elijah sat on the chair and pulled Joy into his lap. A shock shot through her, and she almost jumped up again, but he held her tightly, and she couldn’t.
“Don’t be scared, Joy. I’ll never hurt you.”
“You promised to beat me every day after we’re married,” she reminded him, striving for a jocular tone.
His chuckle was deep and rich and curled through Joy like smoke. She began to relax slightly.
“I didn’t mean that, and you know it. Besides, you said if I did, you’d shoot me. That scared me, and I’d never dare beat you with such a threat hanging over my head.”
“Ha. A likely story.”
“It’s true. You had me shaking in my boots.”
That was so patent a stretcher that Joy laughed. Elijah hugged her, and she slipped an arm around his neck.
He nuzzled her neck, and a delicious sensation of warmth swept through her. She dropped her head back and sighed deeply. It felt so good to be cradled in Elijah’s strong arms. Joy hadn’t ever expected any man to love her and want to take care of her. That the man to do so was Elijah Perry was as surprising to her as it was delightful.
As if to prove to her that she wasn’t dreaming, Elijah murmured, “I love you, Joy.”
She kissed his forehead. “I love you too, Elijah.”
“I don’t know how it happened. Life’s funny that way, I reckon.”
“I reckon.”
“Hell—I mean shoot—I didn’t even like you when we first met.”
“I didn’t like you, either.”
“But that was a long time ago.”
“A very long time ago.”
“Before I got shot.”
“Before I realized how wrong I’d been all those years.”
“You weren’t wrong, darling. It was your mother who was wrong.”
Again, Joy recalled the conversation she’d carried on with her mother in that cottonwood tree. She drew away slightly from Elijah, who drew her back again. She smiled, deciding she could think as well in this position as any other. “I—I wonder if my mother meant to be cruel.”
“Maybe not. It doesn’t make much difference. The result was the same. She whupped you into submission.”
She sighed again. “You’re right, of course. And she was cruel, whether she meant to be or not. She was cruel to my poor father, too.”
“Yeah. That’s too bad. Of course, your dad could have stood up to her and didn’t. It took more backbone than he had, I guess.”
“I guess.” She gasped when she felt Elijah’s hand on her breast, unbound tonight since she was in her nightgown. His hand felt good there, and her nipples began to pebble. She wondered what this would lead to, and decided she was interested in finding out.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, Joy.” Elijah’s voice had gone gravelly. “But I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time now.”
“You have?” Her own voice quivered with trepidation and happiness.
“I have. A long, long time.”
“Mercy sakes.”
Neither of them spoke for a while after that. As the storm crashed and raged outside Mac’s snug little store, Elijah proceeded to give Joy her very first lesson in the art of lovemaking.
He started slowly. Joy appreciated his restraint because having a man’s hands touching such intimate places on her body took some getting used to. Her mother’s voice remained blessedly silent, however, and Elijah was so skilled at what he was doing that she adjusted quickly. His voice, low and rumbling, shocked her.
“You have beautiful breasts, Joy. I’ve been wanting to do this forever.”
What he was doing that he’d wanted to do for so long was squeeze her breasts, teasing her nipples until she thought she might scream with the sheer pleasure of it.
“I—” She had to clear her throat. “I didn’t know people talked at times like this.”
He laughed again, low in his throat. The seductive sound shot through her this time, and lodged in several indelicate places. Merciful heavens, so this was what being loved by a man felt like. Joy was almost glad she’d never known before, or she’d have had an even harder time of it than she’d had already.
She sat on Elijah’s lap, lost in sensation, her insides thundering and crashing much as the storm was doing outside. When Elijah pulled back slightly, took his hands from her breasts, and cupped her head with them, she blinked, confused. Good Lord, he wasn’t going to stop now, was he? Joy opened her mouth to protest, but discovered her vocal chords wouldn’t work.
Elijah stared deeply into her eyes. His own appeared much too serious for Joy’s comfort. She hoped he wasn’t going to withdraw his offer of marriage. Not now, when she was so deeply in love with him. Not now, when she was on the verge of discovering new and miraculous things with him.
“Joy,” he said, and his voice was no more than a tender croak. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll never hurt you if I can help it. What I want to do from now on in my life is protect and cherish you.”
If that wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her, Joy didn’t know what was. She tried to speak again, and again she discovered she couldn’t. In fact, her tonsils didn’t seem to want to do anything but make soft little purring sounds. She kissed his wonderful lips to let him know she loved him and appreciated his kind words. He
kissed her back and kept kissing her until he drew back once more, breathing hard.
“Don’t distract me, Joy. I have something serious to talk to you about.”
This didn’t sound good. She squinted at him, not wanting to be distracted by serious things at the moment.
“I want to make love to you,” Elijah declared, sounding shaky. “But I don’t want to frighten you or scare you.”
Joy was so touched, she nearly cried. Since she figured Elijah might not survive if she burst into tears, she swallowed them and made a valiant effort to get her voice to work. “I love you, Elijah.” She considered that a good start. “And I want to make love to you, too.” Of course, she didn’t know how, but she figured Elijah would take care of the particulars. She saw him swallow.
“I talked to Mac after you went to bed, Joy. He said the circuit rider should be here any day now. I don’t want you to think I’m only taking advantage of you. I’m going to marry you whether you want to marry me or not.”
She smiled. “I want to marry you, Elijah. And I want to help you run your hotel here in Rio Hondo.”
He swallowed again. “You do? I mean, you mean that? You don’t want to go back to Boston? Really?”
“Auburn.” Joy heaved a sigh, half amused and half exasperated that he insisted on keeping up his teasing even now. “Yes, Elijah. I really mean that. I was stifled in Auburn. I learned how to live here. With you. I’m not about to give that up. Not even for civilization and restaurants and decent linen.”
He continued to stare at her for several moments. Joy held her breath and wished he’d get on with it. She didn’t want to lose the mood. Not that there was much chance of that.
Suddenly, he grabbed her close to his chest and buried his face in her hair. Joy was glad she hadn’t braided it for bed yet. She felt wild and free with her hair down and her corset off.