Jenna walked away, stepping carefully over the land already tilled. She turned for a moment, watching Blue struggle with the plow until he mastered it. He’d rolled up his sleeves and she noted thick muscles straining as he held the plow firmly. She’d never tire of looking at him, her Blue, not for the next fifty years or so.
The memories will come back to him, she thought willfully. He was a farmer from Kansas. Surely, he would remember how to farm the land. But he’d been wealthy at one time and probably hadn’t cultivated the soil himself. Then the war came and he fought for the South, only to come home to find his farm destroyed and his home in ashes. Shortly after, he had lost his parents, but he’d stayed on, trying to rebuild, until the day he decided to come to Twin Oaks to marry her. And although Blue still had no memory, he was here at Twin Oaks, recuperating and working the land, just as they both had planned.
Jenna whistled a gay tune all the way back to the house, glancing at the perfect sky, imagining tall golden fields of newly-grown wheat…with Blue Montgomery standing proudly by her side.
He sank down onto the mattress, his body a mass of solid aches. Farming wasn’t woman’s work and he wasn’t at all sure it was man’s work, either. The tedious monotony of plowing the land wasn’t mind-enriching labor. He scratched his head, wondering how a man who was supposed to be a farmer could find disdain in creating a healthy crop with nearly his bare hands. He should be rejoicing, shouldn’t he, at the labor he was born and bred to do?
He lifted his palms up and noted hard calluses where there had been none before. “Blue Montgomery or whoever you are,” he said aloud, “you don’t know a thing about farming.”
He wasn’t ready for bed. Fact is, every night he’d started reading one of the letters he’d sent to Jenna, not quite making it halfway through the entire contents. He found it hard reading about himself and what he’d been through, wondering if these events had really occurred to him.
Stretching out on the bed, he gave a little groan. Hell, he was hurting. His body rebelled against stiff joints, sun-drenched skin and torn-up muscles that cried for relief. With a little twist, he turned up the kerosene lamp on his bedstand and picked up another letter. He’d promised Jenna to read them all, and he would. This time he’d read it to the end. The next letter in the batch began:
My dearest Jenna,
I do hope this letter finds you well. I think of you there at Twin Oaks often. How brave a woman you are to keep the farm from ruination after your parents passed on. I know it must be difficult and often wish I could be there with you to lend a hand and comfort you. As for your brother, Bobby Joe, well, I will not speak of him in a bad way, other than to say he should be ashamed of himself abandoning you for his gambling ways. He should be there taking on the brunt of the work, making up to you for the evil he’d sent your way. He’s not a man I admire, Jenna. Forgive me.
And as for Montgomery Farm, all I can say is that I have tried to keep the farm operating, but the soil is plainly worn out. I’ve planted hay and buckwheat where the soil is the most tired in a dire effort for rotation, but you know, sweet Jenna, a farm cannot thrive without its main crop and the grain crops have been poor for three years now. Weeds are hard to keep down and there isn’t the time or laborers to keep the crop from failing yet once again. For the love of the family name I shall continue to try, but I do not hold out much hope.
I look forward to another of your letters as they are the solace and console I need to sustain my days. You have become a balm to my heart, sweet Jenna.
Always,
Blue Montgomery
He folded the letter, carefully replacing it back into its place in the stack and tying up the ribbon. Jenna treasured these letters; but so far, nothing had sparked even the slightest memory in him. He felt as though he was barging in on another’s thoughts. Yet, he was learning something about himself and more importantly, about Jenna.
Something had happened between Jenna and her brother. There was reference to it in the letter, but Jenna didn’t have cause to discuss it with him. The light had gone out of Jenna’s eyes when last they discussed Bobby Joe Duncan and he knew then he wouldn’t ask again. When Jenna was ready to trust him with the truth, if that day ever came, then he’d listen.
It didn’t set well that her brother had hurt Jenna. Tender feelings surged forth; a protectiveness that was fierce in nature seeped into his senses. He didn’t know what to do with these feelings, but he damn well knew if Bobby Joe Duncan showed his face here, there’d be hell to pay.
Jenna had saved his life. He’d not allow anyone to hurt her again. The feelings overwhelmed him and he stood abruptly and paced the room. Noises caught his attention and he glanced out the window. Light from a slice of the moon put a dim glow onto the barnyard below. He thought he saw movement in the shadows. The barn door opened and from his viewpoint on the second floor, once again movement caught his eye.
He buttoned up his shirt and put his boots on with two quick effective tugs then headed downstairs. As he approached the barn door, he listened intently.
“That’s a good mama. You’ve got five little babes here, Button. And aren’t they cute!”
Jenna?
He popped his head inside, being drawn to the sound of her cooing voice, and was instantly struck by the sight of her. Wearing a robe of white cotton he’d only caught glimpses of before, with her long golden hair down about her shoulders and framing her face, Jenna turned to him with wide eyes. Two dimples popped out like twin diamonds on a face that positively beamed with joy. The robe split open, revealing a thin chemise underneath and everything male inside him went tight.
“Blue, look here,” she said softly, the lilt in her voice calling to him. “Button’s had her a litter. Aren’t they the sweetest things you’ve ever laid eyes on?”
He glanced down at the five scrawny wet kittens and nodded. But his mind was on Jenna and how she was just about the sweetest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
Images of Jenna coming to lie with him in his bed, wearing that soft thin strip of cotton and nothing else, danced in his head. He couldn’t block the image, not when she was standing there, smiling up at him with such elation. Oh, how he wished he were Blue Montgomery. How he wanted to be. And why shouldn’t he believe it and take what Jenna offered? Why not accept the love she had to give and marry her? Why not just spend his days blissfully happy with a courageous, lovely woman who had shown him all that she was, all that she could give him, with just one passionate kiss?
“There’s a chill in the air,” he said and turned to close the barn door.
“Leave it open,” she said firmly, a hint of desperation in her tone.
“You’re cold, Jenna.”
“Please, Blue. Don’t close the door.” Her eyes met his searching, as if he should know something that she wouldn’t voice.
One last glance at the bodice of Jenna’s chemise told him, yes indeed there was a chill in the air. He inhaled sharply and forced his focus to the new litter as he strolled over. “They look like rats, all damp and bony like that.”
Jenna bent down to stroke Button, who was busy at the moment nursing the five newcomers. “They do not, Blue Montgomery. They are just darling. Don’t you listen to him, Button. He’s just being silly.”
He smiled and bent down next to Jenna. Stroking the new mama’s head, he amended his first impression. “Okay, so maybe they are a little bit cute.”
She laughed and the sound filled the barn like a melodious song. “Nothing like new babes to make a mama proud. Right, Button? One day, I’ll know the feeling.”
She froze then and he saw a deep red flush come to her face.
“You want children, Jenna?”
“I, uh… I do,” she admitted, but kept her attention on the kittens. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She drew down on her lip.
“Why not? If it’s the truth.”
“Of course it’s the truth. It’s just that until your memory returns, it’s a bit awkward spea
king of such things.”
He stood, then reached down to take Jenna’s hand, lifting her to her feet. They stood inches apart. He studied her eyes, noting confusion there. “And what if I never get my memory back, Jenna? What then?”
“I don’t…know.”
“We can’t go on thinking I’ll remember something. I don’t recall what we shared. Not one bit.” He softened his tone. “We have to face the fact that I might never remember you.”
Jenna shut her eyes, her pain nearly tangible. He sensed she was a woman who experienced each of her sentiments with strong emotion, this one causing her, arguably, the most injury. “I thought by now you might.”
“Yes, by now, I should have had some recollections of who and what I am. But it’s been weeks. I’ve read the letters, Jenna, and that hasn’t helped, either. The way I see it, we should start out fresh and new. Just like those scrappy little kittens over there. I have no past, Jenna, but together, we might have a future. Do you want that?”
He wanted this woman. He had since the first time he’d opened his sore eyes and saw her tending his wounds. This woman who smelled magnolia sweet and looked pretty as a picture even with dirt smudging her face and those locks of wheat-colored hair in messy disarray.
He wanted to keep the joy on her face. He wanted to take the burden of running the farm off her slender shoulders. He wanted to love the land the way she did.
And most of all, he wanted to love her…in his bed and out. He wanted to love her in all ways that mattered. It nearly shocked him to the bone to feel this way, since he didn’t have a real good handle on his emotions. How could he, when he barely knew the man that he was? But he knew one thing. He wanted Jenna Duncan.
“What’s your middle name?” he asked.
“W-What?” Both dimples popped out again when she chuckled.
“Just tell me, Jenna. I need your full name.”
“Leah.”
“Well then,” he said, giving her hand a quick squeeze. Lord help him if he was making a mistake, but his gut told him, if nothing else, that Jenna was the right woman for him. “Jenna Leah Duncan, will you marry me?”
“No.”
Chapter Three
“Pardon me?” he said, nearly choking on the words. “Did you say no?”
She nodded, casting him a look of regret.
Well, he hadn’t expected this. No, sir. Hell, he wanted Jenna Duncan and that desire was strong, but marrying her had been all her idea. He figured he owed her. She’d saved his life and nurtured him back to health.
Living under the same roof, just steps away from her bedroom, he believed it was just a matter of time before he got her into his bed, but Jenna was a decent woman who claimed she wanted marriage. And he’d talked himself into obliging her. Now, he wasn’t all too sure what the woman had in mind.
“Mind telling me why?”
Jenna stepped away from him and pulled her robe closed. Perhaps if the darn thing had been closed up tight all along, he wouldn’t have gotten this fool notion in his head.
“I can’t marry you, just yet.”
“Just yet?” What in tarnation did that mean?
“No, Blue,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, I want to, more than anything. I want a life with you. I want,” she whispered, color rising on her cheeks, “I want babies and a family to call my own. But I’m willing to wait, Blue. Just a little longer.”
“Why, Jenna? Why wait?”
He saw her shudder and wanted to go to her, but decided it was best to let her say her piece. “I want you to know what we shared together, to feel it deep in your heart, like how it is in mine. I want your love, Blue. Can you say that you love me?”
He took in a deep breath and moved closer. Meeting her hope-filled eyes, he knew he couldn’t lie to her. He barely knew her. He had no recollections of the love that had a man leaving his own home, traveling hundreds of miles to be with her. He might not ever recall, but he was willing to start over, if she’d been of the same mind. “Ah, Jenna.”
Jenna bruised her lips with worry. “I can’t explain the why of it, but I’ve waited for so long. A lifetime, Blue. You’ll get your memory back soon. I’ve been praying for it. And it’ll come like a lightning flash, just like that. And then you’ll know.”
“I’ll know?”
“What we meant to each other. You’ll know the love we shared. Do you think you could give me a little more time?”
Time, he had. He could grant her time. There was such a sweet look on her face now that he’d do just about anything to keep it there. Jenna wanted his love. There was no doubt in his mind, she was an innocent, a woman who’d never known a man intimately before. It was only right for her to want the bond of love before she gave herself to a man. To him. He hoped he would remember. He hoped he was the man she wanted him to be. “How long?”
Her smile jolted straight into his heart. “Not too long. Just until the fields are all plowed up and planted.”
“And if my memory doesn’t return, then what?”
A look of yearning stole over her face. Shyly, she answered, “Then if you ask again, I’ll accept.”
He nodded. “I can be patient. I’ll wait. It’s settled, then.” He took her hand. “Let’s go. We need to get some sleep.”
They left Button to her kittens, closed the barn door and headed back to the house. They walked up the stairs together, holding hands as he led her to her bedroom door. With a deep sigh, he bid her good-night.
“Good night, Blue.” Reaching up on her toes, she brushed her lips to his briefly, before turning the knob and entering.
He stood outside her door a long time, staring at it as if the dang thing held all the answers he sought. But no answers were forthcoming, only more questions.
His memory would return, she’d said, like a flash of lightning. Should he dare hope that Jenna was right?
Jenna felt his eyes on her this morning. She made herself busy mixing flour for biscuits and slicing bacon for the griddle. But she knew he watched her with the intensity of a wolf stalking his prey. He had hungry eyes. And they were trained on her. “Would you like more coffee?” she asked, turning to face those eyes.
“I’ll get it,” he said, standing up and reaching for the pot on the cookstove. After pouring two mugs, he sidled up next to her. “Anything I can do?”
Her immediate answer was usually no, but he stood so close she could smell his scent. Earth, man and lye soap made a dizzying combination. She needed to keep them both busy. “Would you put out the plates? Eggs will be ready soon.”
They’d had many a meal together. The routine should be comfortable by now, but there was something underlying, something simmering between them that made Jenna anxious. In all her imaginings, she couldn’t have thought up a more appealing man. He scared her, thrilled her and lent her comfort all at the same time. Blue Montgomery was all and more than she’d ever dreamed of. She knew in her heart, once married, their joining would be like a firestorm. And the flames wouldn’t burn out for years to come.
“Owwwww!” Jenna missed the handle of the griddle and scorched her finger on the heated metal. The piercing burn brought tears to her eyes. She fanned her hand to help extinguish the fierce heat.
Blue was there instantly. “Jenna,” he said, taking her hand and perusing her fingertip.
“I wasn’t thinking,” she blurted out, but it was what she had been thinking that caused her complete lack of concentration.
“Let’s get it in some water.”
He held her hand and poured water into a bowl with the other. “Here, sit down.”
“It’s nothing to fuss over,” she said, trying to withdraw her hand. He didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled out her chair and made her sit. He took a seat beside her.
“Burns can scar if you don’t take care right off.” He set her finger inside the bowl and held it there.
“The eggs will overcook.”
“They’re fine, sugar. I’ll get to them in a minu
te.”
“I’m not used to being fussed over.”
Blue stroked her hand soothingly, his thumb making circles on her skin and stirring up a different kind of heat. “You should be, Jenna. You should be fussed over,” he said with velvety softness.
Her eyes met his tentatively. “I’m not that sort of woman.”
He laughed. “All women are that ‘sort’ of woman.”
Jenna denied that in her heart. She was a simple farm girl. Blue had always understood that about her. It was her love of the land that had drawn them together in the first place. “I plow fields. I get just as dirty as you and Ben.”
He continued to stroke her hand. “I like seeing smudges on your face.”
Her good hand flew up to her cheeks as mortification set in. “Where?”
Jenna had never cared about her appearance too much before. Who was she to impress? Larabeth, her brown-eyed milk cow? Or Mac, her dependable plow horse? But life was different now. Blue was here, her Blue.
He chuckled again. “Not now. Your face is just fine.”
Relieved, Jenna smiled with him. “I think my finger is all right now. The burning’s stopped.”
“Let me check,” he said, lifting her hand up and drawing it close, then closer, until her finger was at his lips. His tongue came out and he tasted the moistness there, sending a shock to Jenna’s insides.
Gently, he moved her finger over his cool lips and blew on it. She closed her eyes, relishing the pleasure. And when he dipped her finger into his mouth and suckled, a slow sizzling warmth heated in her belly. “Ohhh.”
His chair scraped back and he stood, dragging her up with him. He took her into his arms, pressing her against him. He groaned low in his chest, like a man in pain, before clamping his lips over hers.
The kiss went long and deep. Their tongues met and mated, a primal dance that Jenna had no knowledge of, but Blue was an excellent tutor and soon she found the rhythm he sought. His hands wove through her hair then traveled down her throat, touching her effortlessly with fiery passion that Jenna returned equally. His hands moved over her, down her hips, then cupped her bottom and brought them together, closer, a sensual rub of bodies that ignited something wild in her. She gasped for breath. He murmured near her ear all the things he couldn’t wait to do with her, all the ways he would pleasure her.
Charlene Sands Page 3