Mrs. Swayze gulped again—stared at Hutch’s chest once again.
“Of course,” Evangeline said. “I’ll go right over. Thank you, Mrs. Swayze. Thank you for everything. I really did need a good night’s sleep.”
“I’m sure you did,” Mrs. Swayze said, hurriedly turning and fairly racing down the steps.
Knowing by the expression of frustration on Hutch’s face that the passionate, loving moment between them had been ruined by Mrs. Swayze’s sudden appearance and announcement that Jennie was alone, Evangeline exhaled a heavy sigh and said, “The sausage and biscuits are ready, Hutch. I’ll…I’ll run over to be with Jennie. But you enjoy breakfast, all right?”
Hutch inhaled a deep, deep breath, exhaling it slowly—an obvious attempt to not only calm himself but also accept that their morning had been interrupted.
“All right,” he said. “You run over to Jennie’s. I better get out to the livery.” He looked to her then, adding, “But I’ll be honest with you, Evangeline. I can hardly wait for Calvin’s mother to get here and take over for a while.”
“I know,” Evangeline managed, smiling at him.
As Hutch rather stormed back toward the bedroom—mumbling, “I guess I better put on a damn shirt before any other ladies come poking around”—Evangeline giggled. The look on Mrs. Swayze’s face when she’d been met at the door by an artistically chiseled, half-naked Hutchner LaMontagne had been priceless. It had almost been worth the interruption.
As Evangeline turned to head back to the bedroom herself to fetch her shoes, she wobbled—almost fell over for the sake that her knees were so weak from the lingering effects of Hutch’s kiss. And she determined then and there that if Hutch felt enough for her to kiss her the way he had, then she would find a way (and soon) to break through the barrier that was her own shy insecurity and meet him tit for tat the next time he kissed her. She only prayed that there would be a next time—that there would eventually be not only a next time but an every time—an all the time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As fate would have it, Jennie needed Evangeline both that full day and all through the night. But as anxious as Evangeline was to return with Hutch to their home, she’d tried to enjoy her time with Jennie—and she had. For one thing, Jennie had laughed so hard when Evangeline had related the stories of Heather Griffith’s and Mrs. Swayze’s arrivals and what followed that Evangeline felt it was more healing for her friend than all the bed rest in the world. Furthermore, she loved helping to care for little Evie. The baby was so tender and sweet. She put Evangeline in mind of having her own sweet babies one day—babies fathered by Hutch.
There was a worry, however, concerning the arrival of Calvin’s mother. Hutch and Calvin, and everyone else in Red Peak for that manner, had begun to sense the oncoming of a storm. Calvin worried for his mother—that the train would arrive during the worst of it and find him unable to fetch her home properly. And sure enough, as often happens, Calvin’s concerns were justified.
On the day that Calvin’s mother was to arrive, a snowstorm did descend on Red Peak. Though it wasn’t a full blizzard yet, Hutch and Calvin were both certain that by the end of the day, it would be.
“I’ll go for your mother,” Hutch said as Evangeline rocked little Evie and watched the snow swirl outside the windows.
“I don’t want you getting stuck out there, Hutch,” Calvin argued, however.
“You need to be here with Jennie and the baby,” Hutch explained. “I know my way even in a storm, and my team is the best in town for travel in snow. I’ll take Evangeline home, and then I’ll go to the station and wait for your mother.”
“Evangeline can stay here,” Jennie suggested. “I’d be glad for her company.”
Evangeline watched, however, as Hutch inhaled a deep breath. She could tell he was irritated.
“I know, Jen,” he said, calmly. “But if we’re going to be snowed in for three or four days…well, we’ve all had a lot of each other these past few weeks. And with Calvin’s mom coming to stay, I think it would be best for Evangeline and me to make sure we’re home when the heavy snows come.”
“But, Hutch, what if something happens and you don’t make it back from the train station before the snow hits?” Jennie asked, obviously very worried.
Evangeline’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. “Can that happen?” she asked, suddenly very frightened.
“Not to me,” Hutch assured her.
“Are you sure, Hutch?” Calvin asked.
Hutch nodded. “I am.” He turned to Evangeline and said, “Let’s get you home and get the fires started, all right? I’ll need some extra time to prepare the team to go to the station.”
Evangeline nodded, her fear mounting. She’d read about the blizzards that often came to the area in winter. Four, five, sometimes six feet of blowing snow, with conditions that left a body unable to see past the end of his own nose. She was well aware that more than a few people had died—frozen to death—while trying to make their way home after seeing to livestock or searching for others that had lost their way in a storm. Still, she tried to appear as calm as possible.
That was until she and Hutch stepped out into the cold, blowing snow that had already arrived in Red Peak.
“Come on,” Hutch said, taking Evangeline’s hand. “Let’s get you home before this gets any worse.”
“But I want you to stay too,” she told him. Still, she knew that Jennie needed Calvin to be with her, especially if the town really did find itself buried for several days. And what of Calvin’s mother? The train would arrive, blizzard or not. What would become of her if Hutch didn’t fetch her home to the warmth and safety of Jennie’s?
“I’ll be fine, Evie,” he told her.
As the wind fairly blew them into the house when Hutch opened the door, Jones barked, charging past them and going right to the hearth in the parlor. Finding no fire there with which to warm himself, he barked again.
“I’ll get a fire started in here,” Hutch said. “Do you think you could get one going in the bedroom, so I can get that team started for the train station?”
“Of course,” Evangeline assured him. She was frightened—frightened of the coming storm—frightened of Hutch going out into it.
“Jones will stay here with you,” Hutch said as he placed fresh kindling on the grate in the parlor fireplace. “And I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“All right,” Evangeline said. She was trying to look brave—the way she’d always tried to look, ever since her mother had been lost when she was twelve years old, leaving Evangeline to be the brave oldest sister of the Ipswich family. But she wanted to be weak! She wanted to throw her arms around Hutch’s neck and tell him that someone else could take care of Calvin’s mother when she arrived at the station. Still, she knew that was a horrid thing to even think.
And so she stood, wringing her hands and watching as Hutchner put on a heavier pair of boots, a heavier coat, and thick gloves.
When he’d finished dressing for the weather and the fire was burning strongly in the parlor hearth, Hutch went to Evangeline, took her hands in his, and gazing down at her with fierce determination said, “I’ll be back, Evangeline. And when I get back…we’ll pick up breakfast where we left off the other morning, all right?”
She couldn’t keep from smiling then—even with the peril that awaited Hutch outside.
“All right,” she agreed. And how grateful and elated was she when Hutch cupped her chin in one gloved hand, pressing a solid, driven kiss to her mouth. “You keep an eye on Evangeline for me, Jones. You hear me?” Hutch called to the dog before smiling at Evangeline and leaving by way of the back door.
Jones trotted in from the parlor, depositing his hindquarters on the entryway floor at Evangeline’s feet.
Evangeline smiled at the three-legged canine. “I guess we’ll just have to wait this out together, won’t we, Jones?” she said, reaching down to scratch the dog behind his ears. The dog barked once in agre
ement and then began panting happily as he stared up at her.
“He’ll be fine, won’t he?” Evangeline mumbled more to herself than to Jones. “He has to be fine. He has to come back to me so we can finish our breakfast…isn’t that right?”
*
The snow was already torrential when Hutch finally reached the train station. The moment he saw the well-dressed Bostonian woman standing out on the station platform shivering, even for the fact she wore furs from head to toe, he knew it was a good thing he’d come for Calvin’s mother.
Calvin McKee was a strong, capable man, but Hutch had far more experience with the blizzards that hit out west than he did. And the truth was, Hutch worried whether he himself and the team could find their way back to Calvin’s house, let alone if Calvin had been the one trying.
“Mrs. McKee?” Hutch called through the wind and swirling snow. “Mrs. McKee? Ma’am? Are you Calvin McKee’s mother, ma’am?”
“Wh-why, yes!” the woman called above the storm.
“I’ve come to fetch you back to Calvin and Jennie’s,” Hutch explained as he set the wagon break and jumped down.
“Oh, thank the Lord!” Mrs. McKee sighed. “I got off the train expecting…well, more than this, I suppose.”
“Are these the only trunks you have, ma’am?” Hutch said, eyeing the four traveling trunks that stood on the station platform. He thought of the one small trunk Evangeline had brought with her and wondered what in all the world a woman would need four traveling trunks for.
“Yes, sir!” Mrs. McKee assured him.
“I’m Hutch LaMontagne, Mrs. McKee,” he explained quickly. “Jennie’s brother.”
“Oh, thank you for coming for me, Mr. LaMontagne! I was quite beginning to panic.”
Wasting no further time in idle conversation, Hutch loaded Mrs. McKee’s trunks into the wagon. The weather was worsening by the second, and all he could think about was getting home to Evangeline. He knew she would be frightened—worried for him. What’s more, he hadn’t been able to forget the feel of having her in his arms—the sweet flavor of her warm mouth pressed to his. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else since the moment Mrs. Swayze had interrupted them two days before. He wanted to return to her—have her all to himself—to find out if her feelings for him were more intense than he’d first thought.
And so, once Hutch had loaded Mrs. McKee’s trunks into the wagon, he did not stand on ceremony. Impatiently striding to the woman, he simply swooped her up in his arms and carried her to the wagon.
“Oh my!” Mrs. McKee exclaimed. “You surely must think this storm is worsening, Mr. LaMontagne.”
“It most certainly is, Mrs. McKee,” Hutch said, helping her onto the wagon seat. Hopping up beside her, he added, “And besides, I know how anxious you must be to see your new granddaughter. She’s named Evie, you know…after my wife.”
“Oh, h-how wonderful!” Mrs. McKee exclaimed as Hutch slapped the lines at the teams’ backs, starting the wagon lurching forward.
Hutch was more driven than he’d ever been in all his life before that moment—driven to get home—driven to get back to Evangeline.
*
“It’s been hours, Jones,” Evangeline said as she stroked Jones’s soft ears. “We’ve been sitting here for hours…and the storm is so much worse!” Tears filled her eyes again, as they’d been doing off and on since Hutch had left to bring Calvin’s mother home from the train station.
Fears she didn’t even know she had had welled up inside Evangeline’s mind and heart—visions of Hutch being frozen solid and still clutching the lines of his team, also frozen solid. Thoughts of being widowed before she’d even had a chance to know her beloved Hutch as truly her husband. Yet Evangeline fought her fears as best she could. She’d even read aloud for over an hour—read poetry aloud to Jones. And although he seemed rather uninterested, it did help Evangeline to pass the time—at least for a little while.
But now—now it was long past sunset. Now the snow was so thick and heavy as it fell that she couldn’t see anything at all past the windowpane.
The clock on the wall chimed eight, and the noise was more ominous than soothing, the way clock chimes normally were.
“Well, Jones, I suppose we should perhaps just ready ourselves for bed,” Evangeline said. “I’m certain Hutch made it to the train station and found Calvin’s mother. Perhaps, being that the snow and wind are so bad now, he just chose to wait out the storm at Jennie’s, rather than risk being lost in the…” She gulped as terror welled in her throat. “Come on, Jones,” she said. “Let’s get ready for bed. I’ll read to you some more then, all right?”
With fear and anxiety at full breadth, Evangeline rose from her seat in the parlor and headed for the bedroom.
With so many hours to fill while Hutch had been absent, she’d quite settled into the house by putting her things in two empty drawers she’d found in Hutch’s chest of drawers in the bedroom.
Quickly, she removed her day dress and hung it on a hanger in the wardrobe. Slipping off her petticoat, shoes, and stockings, Evangeline wondered for a moment if her nightgown would be warm enough. Perhaps she should’ve remained in her day dress.
Evangeline gasped then as she heard the door at the back of the house blow open—heard Hutch call to her, “I’m back! Boy, oh, boy, are we in for it.” He laughed and added, “A body can’t see a thing out there! And it’s colder than a witch’s stone heart!”
Hurrying into the mudroom at the back of the house, careless of her state of undress, Evangeline watched in silence as Hutch removed his gloves, coat, and boots.
It wasn’t until he turned and saw her that she allowed her tears to spill from her eyes and flood her cheeks.
“A-are you all right, Evangeline?” Hutch asked, studying her from head to toe a moment.
Having quite forgotten that she was now wearing only her pantaloons and camisole, Evangeline stomped one bare foot and sobbed, “Do you know how worried I’ve been, Hutch? I’ve been sick with worry! I thought you’d frozen to death and would never be coming home.”
“But…I’m fine,” Hutch said, his brow puckering a bit with confusion. “I told you I’d be back, and I am.”
Evangeline wasn’t angry with him. She was just so relieved! After having spent hours in agony, she was so relieved to see Hutch safe and back home that she was quite out of her mind for a moment.
Racing to him, she threw herself against him and continued to sob. “I thought certain you were dead! I-I imagined such horrid things, Hutch!”
She felt Hutch’s strong hands at her waist—at her actual waist—at her actual dressless, petticoatless, bare-skinned waist. But she didn’t care about the impropriety of it, for the feel of his hands on her skin was assurance that he was there—alive and well and there. Furthermore, it was a purely blissful sensation, and it drove her emotions to even higher zeal.
“I love you! I love you! I love you, Hutch!” she confessed, burying her face against his neck—drinking in the warm, soothing scent of leather and linen that clung to it. “I’ve loved you ever since I can remember! And I’m sorry you were forced to marry me! I’m sorry Jennie made you marry me, Hutch. No! I’m not sorry! Because even if you don’t love me the way I love you, you’re mine! You’re mine, do you hear me? Mine! And I don’t ever want to be separated from you again! Ever!”
“But I do love you,” Hutch said.
Evangeline’s breath caught in her throat, and she looked up at him, brushing tears from her cheeks. “Wh-what did you say?”
Hutch grinned—that alluring, mischievous, seductive grin Evangeline so loved. “I do love you,” he repeated. “I’ve loved you from the moment you turned around and looked at me that day at the station.”
“What?” Evangeline whispered again, unable for a moment to believe him.
“And I didn’t marry you because Jennie made me,” he said. “Jennie could never make me do anything I didn’t want to do. I wanted to marry you…and I’ve
felt guilty all this time for tricking you into it.”
“But you didn’t,” Evangeline said. “I’ve wanted to marry you, always. And Jennie knew that. That’s why she made you—”
“She didn’t make me, Evangeline,” Hutch interrupted. “I married you because I wanted you…because I love you.”
“But you only knew me…you only knew me a week,” she reminded him.
“I’ve known you for years, Evie,” he reminded her in return. “You’d just grown up to be old enough for me to fall in love with you now, that’s all.”
He smiled, and Evangeline felt his hands move from her waist to her back. Slowly he caressed her there—on the warm, bare skin of her lower back. Goose bumps raced over her arms, her legs, her back, even her fingers, at his intimate touch.
“Now,” he said, “what do you say we pick up where we left off at breakfast the other morning, hmm?”
Evangeline smiled at him, gazing into the smoldering cobalt of his eyes. She could see herself there—literally see herself in his eyes—see that he loved her—really, truly loved her.
“All right,” she agreed, an uncomfortable bashfulness rising in her. After all, she was wearing only her camisole and pantaloons. “I’ll just put my nightgown on and—”
“Don’t bother, sugar,” Hutch said, however. “You’re not gonna need it.”
Evangeline gasped as Hutch pulled her against him, ravaging her mouth with loving, wanton kisses that sent her senses spiraling into blissful waves of surrender. Hutch loved her! He loved her! His ardent, steaming kisses were proof. His skillful caresses and the words he whispered against her mouth—all of it validated Evangeline’s dreams come true! She owned Hutchner LaMontagne’s heart, as fully as he owned hers.
Hutch broke the seal of their lips for a moment, and Evangeline smiled and teased, “But I promised Jones I’d read to him.”
The Romancing of Evangeline Ipswich Page 12