by Everly West
Levi leaned down and rubbed the dogs head. "Bacon take us home."
The dog whined and then began to plow through the snow. What seemed like hours, but was only minutes, later, Levi could see the front door and heaved a sigh of relief. Now he would have to tie a new rope to the barn, but at least he knew he could find his way back.
"Good job, Bacon."
Stepping into the warmth of the house, he took a moment to savor the heat. "I have to go back out and string the rope again."
"No, don't go," she said. "It makes me nervous. I'm scared something will happen to you."
The plea filled him with emotion. No one had ever worried about him. No one expressed any concern that he could get hurt. And yet, he had to do this. Sometime later today, he'd go back out to the barn and take care of the animals.
Reaching out, he touched her on the arm. "I'll be fine. I'll be back in after a bit. Why don't you have a nice hot cup of coffee waiting for me."
She grabbed him, pulling him to her and kissed him solidly on the lips. A wave of desire raced through him, her scent intoxicating and warming. He didn't want to leave but stay here in her arms. It was the first kiss his wife had given him spontaneously and it thrilled him. Only twenty-eight days, eight hours and thirty minutes before they could consummate this marriage.
Releasing Levi, she stepped back. "That's to make certain you'll come back."
Staring in shock, he smiled. Was that a promise? Should he even go down that road?
This was turning out to be quite a day. A day he didn't know if spending time outside would cool the temperature rising inside him. Oh yes, most definitely, he would find his way back to their home.
Chapter 4
The next morning when she opened her eyes, she knew immediately. Her head pounded, nausea roiled her stomach, and the telltale signs of cramping gripped her. Could her timing be any worse?
Lying in bed, tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks of their own accord. Well, just great, Aunt Flo's timing topped off a spectacularly lousy couple of days. She felt achy. She was stuck in a cabin, not the mansion of her youth, with her newly married husband who intrigued her. Of all the embarrassing things to happen their first week of marriage.
It was bad enough they shared the same slop jar, but the weather made it impossible to go outside to the outhouse and he only had one jar. What were they supposed to do? Couldn't she deal with one new change in her environment at a time, rather than ten?
Rising from the bed, she dressed and then lay down. She just wanted to stay in this room, but it was late.
A knock sounded on the door. "Anna, breakfast is ready."
"Coming," she called, the urge to stay in to bed strong. All she wanted was to lie there with the covers over her head, snuggled in the warmth of the blankets and pretend this was just a huge nightmare she would awaken from.
With a sigh, she wiped the tears from her eyes and slowly rose. Life certainly had a way of humbling her. First the knock on the door late at night with a soldier telling her that her father was dead. The takeover of the paper. All the money from their family-owned business kept by the U.S. government and eventually the last of the money slipped away with the household expenses, the servants left, and then she had nothing if she stayed in Charleston.
Life here was different from her pampered life in her hometown where she couldn't remain.
Besides, walking past the building where the paper was located was like having someone throw a spear through your heart. Everything gone in a war that was so disastrous.
Standing, she went into the kitchen.
"Good morning," Levi said, gazing at her, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to study her. Her husband was a very astute man and she really didn't want to explain the situation to him.
"Morning," she said and sank down onto a chair. A cramp had her almost doubling over, but she bit her lip and sat quietly absorbing the pain.
"Are you all right?" he asked. "You look a little peaked this morning."
If he was as smart as she thought, he would leave this subject alone and tread very lightly with her today.
"Fine," she said, not wanting to discuss with him that the curse of being a woman was upon her. Not exactly table conversation.
He set a plate in front of her and the smell of the fried eggs engulfed her. Gagging, she rose from the table.
"Excuse me," she said and hurried into the bedroom where she lay on the bed.
The chill in the room had her shivering and she soon climbed beneath the heavy quilts. Lying there, she wanted to die. Never before had she missed having a mother as much as she did at this moment. Not only because of Aunt Flo, but someone to talk to her about being married and being with a man. It was something she'd learned from her friends, certainly not her father.
Everything she'd ever learned about being a woman had come from either a servant or a girlfriend. She often wondered why her father had never remarried, and wished she had brothers and sisters and other family members. Her aunts were all in New York and there had been no one close.
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
"Yes," she asked, not wanting him to see her this way. Not wanting to explain.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
The urge to say no, stay out was strong, but this wouldn't be the last time Flo came to visit, and he might as well see her at her worst.
"Yes," she said.
He opened the door and carried in a tray. Frowning, she watched him approach the side of the bed.
"I thought you might need this," he said and handed her a bed warmer. "My mother said it always made her feel better."
She glanced up at him. He knew and was trying to make her feel better. His kindness filled her with warmth and gratitude and made her uncomfortable at the same time. "Thank you."
No one except one of her servants had ever been this thoughtful while she was experiencing this womanly curse. No one.
"I also brought you a hot toddy. It's a little early in the morning, but it might help you sleep for a while," he said quietly. He cleared his throat and looked out the window and then back at her. "I also brought you some rags. I didn't know if you would need them or not."
Stunned, she stared at him, tears swelling in her eyes.
"How did you know?"
He laughed. "I had a sister and a mother. For my own wellbeing, I learned to recognize the signs."
She smiled and took the hot beverage. "Thank you for being so nice to me."
"You're welcome."
All this time, she believed he didn't like her, yet his actions showed differently. Could she have misinterpreted him?
"So does this mean you don't dislike me anymore?"
Chuckling he smiled. "The problem is not that I dislike you. In fact, just the opposite. We have twenty-seven days, ten hours and thirty minutes before we can fulfill our marriage vows." He ran his hand through is hair. "That's tough on a man when you're here in the same house, by my side every day smelling so sweet, looking so beautiful."
Sipping the warm liquid, she nodded. "I don't dislike you either. But I don't understand."
He groaned. "Woman, if you felt better, if we were married the right amount of time, or if you indicated you didn't want to wait, I would pick you up and carry you into this bedroom, shed our clothes, and make this marriage real in every aspect."
Stunned, she felt her mouth drop and she gazed at him.
"Now do you understand?"
"Yes," she whispered, wondering what more she didn't understand about men. Her father was the only man she ever dealt with and he was not warm or caring or even particularly a good father.
"I'm sorry," she said, licking her lips, not knowing how to tell him. "My mother died at birth and my father and my nanny raised me. The only way I learned anything about men and women was from my friends. And apparently, not enough."
Shaking his head, he smiled. "So, you're innocent in the ways of men."
"Yes. I never even ha
d a chance to be courted."
"I kind of gathered that when you kissed me yesterday."
Had she kissed him wrong? The only kiss she ever witnessed was between two of the servants and it was just a quick touch of the lips.
He laughed. "No, you didn't do it wrong. It just felt timid. When you're feeling better, I'll show you some real kisses."
The thought both frightened and thrilled her. "Oh."
The memory of the kisses they'd shared the day before left her breathless. The way his lips had claimed hers, his tongue stroking her mouth, the warmth that had gripped her middle like a raging firestorm.
"If you disliked me, you wouldn't have given me even that peck on the lips," he said, gazing at her like he wanted to lean down and kiss her again. And she wanted him to but knew this was not the time nor the place.
"No, I wouldn't have. And I was scared," she said, staring at his lips, wishing she could taste them again.
Right now, they shared an awareness of each other, like they were circling one another, dancing around the tension that drew her to him. Whatever this thing between them was, she feared it would soon explode and consume her. Was this what was supposed to happen between a man and his wife?
"Now, finish your hot toddy and get some rest."
Nodding, she handed him the empty cup and yawned. "I think I'll curl up here with the bed warmer and rest for a while."
"That sounds like a good idea. I'll be right out here if you need me. See you later," he said.
"Levi," she called when he reached the door.
"Yes?"
"Thanks for taking care of me."
And she meant it. She realized he had watched over her and kept her safe during the worst snowstorm she'd ever experienced. No one other than her father and their servants had ever cared for her.
"You're welcome."
He walked out the door and she snuggled deeper into the covers, thinking about kissing her husband. So he was counting down the days until they could...she sighed. She needed to talk to Sarah. Someone to explain what to expect from marriage.
Late that afternoon, Levi was surprised and pleased to see Anna emerge from the bedroom. There was more color in her cheeks and she didn't have that haggard look in her eyes any longer.
"Feeling better?" he asked, standing in the small kitchen stirring a bubbling pot.
"Yes," she said, and made her way to the lumpy sofa he'd purchased at a secondhand store.
"I thought we'd have some venison chili tonight for supper; is that okay?" he asked, uncertain she would like deer meat.
"Of course. What can I do to help?"
He wasn't going to let her work in the kitchen after feeling poorly this morning. She could sit and watch him, and besides, this kept her at a safe distance.
Eventually, he hoped his wife would learn how to cook and take over the household duties, but right now, he didn't want her thinking that being the wife of a rancher was not in her best interest. While she was sleeping, he made the decision to pamper her, then court her, and hopefully soon, they would live together like man and wife.
He glanced at her from the kitchen. "You relax. Tonight, I'm taking care of dinner."
"Are you sure?" she asked. "I'm feeling better."
"It's no big deal. I'm used to cooking for myself."
Funny how he'd never planned on living alone, and yet, for the last five years, he'd been alone. Ever since the mistaken raid on his home had taken his family. Even now, he could still hear his mother's voice and his sister's laughter ringing through the house. The memories left an empty hole in his heart.
While he prepared cornbread to go with their chili, she sat staring out the window. "It doesn't seem to be snowing as hard."
"It's not."
"Are those mountains in the distance?"
"Yes, you haven't been able to see them because of the blizzard. But it seems to be letting up, and tomorrow, if the snow is not too deep, we'll get the sled out and together we can check on the cattle and I'll show you what I can of the ranch.”
He watched as her eyes widened and she smiled. Already he could tell all she had to do was grin at him and his heart fluttered and he wanted to give her anything she desired. "Great! It would be nice to get out of the house and see some of the country."
"Tell me about your life in Charleston."
She glanced at him working in the kitchen, her sapphire eyes shadowed with mystery, not excited like he'd expected her to be talking about her hometown.
"The war almost destroyed Charleston," she said. "Before, I would have told you it was the most beautiful city in the world with its old homes, the way the moss hung in the trees and the breezes off the ocean. But everything changed during the war."
With a sigh, she glanced out the window at the snow twirling from the sky.
"Most of the houses are in ruins and the ones that aren't, the carpetbaggers obtained. My home had damage, but it wasn't so bad that you couldn't live there. A shell hit the balcony and caught the house on fire. But we managed to get it out."
She shuddered, and he could see the memories of that time had affected her greatly. The urge to soothe her pain filled him.
"The paper was far enough inland that it didn't receive damage from the bombardments, but the Yankee army confiscated the newspaper my father ran, and in the process, killed him. My father refused to give them the company and they took it along with his life."
Levi shook his head. One of the reasons he came to Montana was to escape the war. Not that he was afraid to fight, but the whole thing was being run by a bunch of hotheads and it wasn't his fight. In the end, it cost him his family. When not taking a side in a fight, then both are against you. Like two dogs with a bone. Choose a side or become the bone.
"In the last six months, the war has ended, and I've lost my father, our business, our income, and would have eventually lost our home," she sighed. "If only I could have kept the paper, I would not be here."
Stunned, he stared at her. She would have stayed and done what?
"How could that have helped? You couldn't run the paper by yourself."
As soon as he said the words, he realized he'd made a mistake. His wife's body tensed and she bristled like a cat seeing a ghost. "I've written the society pages for the last two years, and with the help of our employees, I could have written the articles while the men ran the printing presses. Together we could have gotten the paper out."
While he knew she wanted to keep the newspaper, he hoped that would not become a problem between them. What if she somehow got the paper back? No, that could never happen or could it?
"Did you try to get the newspaper back?"
"Of course, but the colonel refused. The Charleston Mercury is no more," she said sadly. "Papa loved that newspaper."
Melancholy reflected in her voice and he realized how much the war had cost both of them. His family killed by a gang of sympathizers, and she lost everything. But how would his wife cope with living such a different life? Could she adjust from a southern belle to a rancher's wife? Could she give up her opulent lifestyle for a much simpler life?
"What did you write about? Current affairs or an article for ladies?" he asked, curious about what she covered for the paper.
"Balls, galas, weddings, anything going on in society. But that didn't really interest me. All my life I've wanted to write stories for women, but Papa told me no one would read them."
"Why not?"
She shook her head and gave a small laugh. "He didn't believe that women read anything but the society pages and only for the gossip they contained. But I love reading books and devour women authors. Does Angel Creek have a library?"
Unfortunately, his wife had no idea that the frontier had very few of the society perks that living in a larger city provided. "No, I'm afraid not. But that doesn't mean that you can't start one."
She tilted her head and stared at him. While he knew their lives would be completely different from Charleston, she needed somet
hing to hang onto her old life.
"That's not a bad idea. At home, I was busy doing things for the war effort, but now, now what am I going to do with my time?"
A grin spread across his face. Should he tell her that they would be working from sunup to sundown or should he just wait and let her learn this on her own. Maybe she deserved to know a taste of what they would be doing.
"There's always housework," he said. "And in the summer, we'll be busy picking the garden and canning. I'm pretty much always busy, except on snow days. Those are the ones where I relax by the fire, especially now that I'm married. And eventually, I hope we'll have a few kiddos running around."
Levi longed for children. Sons and daughters and babies and toddlers, and the sound of laughter and crying filling this empty house. Of course, if they had too many, he would have to add on, but still, loved ones he sat across the table from each and every night.
Twisting her hands in her lap, she glanced out the window again. "I'm an only child. Did you have brothers and sisters?"
The memory of his sister, her blonde hair reaching just below her shoulders, floated through his mind. Barely fourteen when the raiders came. He prayed her death was quick.
"Her name was Elizabeth and her antics kept us all laughing. If ever you were having a bad day, she would cheer you up with her bright smile and infectious laughter." The pain in his chest slammed him and he wondered when it would end. "But she's gone now. My brother and his family live on the next ranch about a mile from here."
"I'm sorry about your sister. What about your parents. When did they pass?"
How he missed the three of them. He'd been beside himself when he found their bodies, the house burned to the ground. At first, his intent was to ride after them, but the sheriff calmed him. Told him they were in custody.
His plan had been to stay there until the men were hung, but his mother came to him in a dream and she told him time was running out. For him to head to Montana and escape the coming war. To ride to his older brother.
So on April 1, 1861, he packed his saddlebags and headed toward Montana, knowing he wanted out of the unneeded killing.