Most Unsuitable Husband

by Clemmons, Caroline

  ***

  Nate stared out the window as the miles clicked away. After lunch both boys had fallen asleep on their seats and Fiona rejoined him and Sarah. Cindy napped in her bed. When she awakened, Fiona went to her.

  He heard Fiona telling Cindy an amusing story while the boys played with their toy soldiers on the floor nearby. James lit the oil lamps for the evening. Soon he would make up the beds, probably while they ate their dinner. Sarah's eyes drifted shut and her head slid to Nate's shoulder. He gently edged her book from her hands and closed it.

  An almost overwhelming desire to protect her swept over him, a strong need to gather her in his arms and hold her safe. He cursed himself for a fool. This woman had his money, his mother's jewelry. He didn't mind the sapphire necklace and earrings so much, but the ruby ring was a present to Ma from Cal at Nate’s birth.

  Ma always told him it was her lucky ring, that someday he should give it to the girl who was lucky enough to win his love. Ma ran out of luck, though, when she tried to have other children. After several miscarriages, she and her baby girl both died. Some luck.

  Cal was never the same after that. Seemed a part of him died with Ma. The closest he came to happiness was with Roxie. Nate closed his eyes against the pain of bitter memories.

  How he wished he and Cal could have been closer. He wished Cal had let him call him Dad or Pa, but Cal wanted them to be buddies. Damn, there were lots of people to be his pal. Monk had been there as a friend. A boy needed his father to be a father. Too late now. Nate was alone in the world except for Monk, who was as much a brother to him as if blood united them.

  When the conductor thought he and Sarah were married, a great clamp seized Nate's gut. He had no idea a simple mistake could cause such havoc. He was the one who started the idea at the hotel that he and Sarah were engaged. Why should he care what a bunch of yokels thought?

  He tried to deny he liked the idea of people thinking they were a couple, that the kids were theirs. That kind of thinking was for saps with weak minds and strong backs. Besides, Sarah couldn't be much over twenty, so she could hardly have kids the age of the boys. Let people think what they wanted.

  So far, this trip had not gone as he planned. Sarah seemed immune to his charm. He'd tried taking things slow, but he thought he should step up the effort. Inexperienced as she was, he should be able to tear down those walls of reserve.

  The dinner gong sounded. The boys, who had come to know that sound as well as Sarah’s rules, set aside their soldiers and rushed to the toilet to wash their hands.

  Nate put his hand on Sarah's arm and shook her gently. "Sarah, dinner's served."

  She opened her eyes and sat upright. Her hands fluttered to smooth stray wisps of hair back into her bun. A flush spread over her delicate cheeks. "Oh, my stars, I do apologize for using your shoulder as a pillow. How rude of me."

  He leaned near and spoke only for her ears. "Believe me, it was my pleasure. I volunteer to be your pillow at any time."

  She blushed brighter and refused to meet his gaze.

  Nate stood and offered his arm. "Shall we join the others?"

  The dinner involved several courses served efficiently. They lingered long in the elegant setting. The boys excused themselves to watch James while he made several seats into beds and pulled down two upper berths.

  “We want to sleep on top,” Luke said.

  Joe nodded his agreement. The boys got ready for bed and climbed up into their bunks. Sarah and Fiona excused themselves to make their own preparations in the ladies' room at the rear of the car. Nate sat across the aisle and pretended to read.

  Soon the two women were back. Sarah wore a different wrapper over her nightclothes than she’d worn when she came to his room last night. This one was blue wool and it crossed over in front and buttoned up to the shoulder.

  “Sure and it’s glad I’ll be to sleep in this bed,” said Fiona. “Last night I was that excited about the trip I could hardly close my eyes, for all I was in that grand room.”

  Sarah held the curtain while the older woman slid into place. “You see how it works, Fiona. You close the curtains at the window, then pull this aisle curtain closed and you’ll have complete privacy.”

  “Thank you, dearie. You’ll be doing the same soon, I suppose?” Fiona asked.

  “Oh, yes. I’ll check on the children once more. The porter will be turning the lights down, but I’ll ask him to leave one at each end of the car burning low in case anyone needs to get up during the night.”

  Nate watched while Sarah checked on Cindy in the area next to Fiona. He saw the little girl sleeping soundly, still clutching her doll. The boys climbed up and down from their beds, and Joe seemed upset. Luke finally lay down, but Joe came across the aisle and sat near Nate. Sarah apparently noticed Joe’s concern.

  She asked, “Joe, what’s bothering you?”

  He made motions to indicate that while he was sleeping, someone would grab him.

  Sarah shook her head. “No, Joe. We’ll all be right here. No one but us will come into the car, unless the conductor comes through. Now, up into the bed with you.”

  Joe climbed onto his bunk, but sat with legs crossed and a mutinous look on his face.

  “Joe, you know none of us would hurt you,” Sarah pleaded.

  Joe nodded then leaned out and pointed first to the door at the end of the car, then to the other. He made motions to indicate someone opening the door and creeping in. Though still not as good at it as Luke, Nate thought he and Sarah were getting pretty good at interpreting Joe’s sign language.

  This impasse could go on all night, though. Nate stood and touched Sarah on the arm. “Let me try, if you will.”

  Surprise in her wide jewel-toned eyes, Sarah said, “Of course. I’m at a loss here.”

  Nate went to the galley and spoke with the two porters. Soon he returned with a load of empty tin cans, dinnerware, a piece of rope and some stout twine.

  “How about I make you a burglar trap?” he asked Joe.

  Joe’s dark eyes widened. He nodded and scooted back against the back wall of his berth.

  Using his knife as a punch, Nate worked holes into the cans. With the twine, he tied a knife or fork to make a clapper in each can. He took the rope and strung it across the berth inside where the curtains would close, then tied the cans to the rope. They dangled and made slight rattles with the movement of the train. He stood back, satisfied with his work.

  “Now, watch what happens if I try to grab you.” Nate lunged and grabbed Joe. The cans set up a loud clatter.

  He put Joe back up on the bed and asked, “Is that good enough so you can sleep?”

  Joe nodded and lay down. Nate pulled the covers over the boy, then closed the curtains. When Nate turned around, Sarah had tears in her eyes. She walked quickly to the rear of the car and sat down. He followed her and took the place beside her.

  She sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her wrapper. “Will he ever get over this fear?”

  Nate didn’t know what to say or do. His arm slid around her and he patted her shoulder. “Give him more time. He’s come with you. That’s a major accomplishment.”

  Dabbing at her eyes, she said, “He’s here, thanks to you. And now you’ve helped once again.”

  “It was my pleasure. I hope you’ll call on me if there’s anything else I can do.” He meant the statement to carry heavy sexual innuendo, hoping she would offer him encouragement.

  “Oh, thank you,” she said and sighed. “I’ll go off to sleep now the children are settled. See you in the morning.”

  He rose when she stood. Her wide lavender-blue eyes were still wet with tears and her thick lashes looked longer with the moisture clinging to them. When she flashed that time-stopping smile, his heart beat faster and a great invisible fist sent a blow to his diaphragm. Not only did the thoughts of seduction and revenge disappear, all thought left his brain.

  “Good night,” she said as she moved toward her bed.
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br />   He stammered, “Good night,” before he made his way to the bunk below Luke’s. He pulled the curtains before he took off his shirt and boots, but left on his pants. Accustomed to sleeping unclothed, he’d overlooked provision for communal arrangements like these.

  Touching the healing wounds at his shoulder and side, he checked their progress in the dark. Skin formed nicely now and he no longer wore the bandages. Soon only scars would remain. He lay back on his pillow and drifted to sleep.

  ***

  Inky blackness surrounded him. He fought his way upward, upward, clawing and pushing. He couldn’t make it, couldn’t breathe. Air, he needed air! Dirt filled his mouth and nose. Death closed in, he was going to die, suffocate in this grave! He gave out a cry of anguish.

  Nate sat up, bumping his head, and swung his feet onto the floor. That damn dream again. When would that horrible memory dim? He longed for a peaceful night’s sleep free of the nightmares that plagued him. Night after night it was either this one or the one where an angry mob dragged him off to be hanged.

  Maybe it was the dark. He dragged open the curtains. At each end of the aisle a light burned low, sending a faint glow along the car. Nate took a deep breath and lay back down. Maybe now he could sleep.

  He heard movement and Sarah appeared. Her wrapper was open. She didn’t see he was awake as she checked on Luke. Nate caught her rose fragrance as she leaned in to peek at Luke in the berth above. When she stepped back, her glance met Nate’s.

  She clutched her wrapper to her. “I’m sorry if I wakened you. I thought I heard a cry, but it must have been my imagination. The children are sound asleep.”

  “I was awake.” He patted the mattress. “Talk a while?”

  “Um, I, well,” she looked back over her shoulder toward her berth, “I’d better get back to sleep.”

  “Just for a moment,” he said and patted the bed again. “Sorry I wakened you, but the cry was mine. I had a nightmare.”

  With a surprised look, she sat at his feet. “I can’t imagine you having nightmares. Would they have anything to do with those?” she asked and pointed at the place on his shoulder. He hated the fact that he’d revealed a weakness to her. Taking her hand in his, he ignored her reference to his healing wounds and said, “Just something I ate, I suppose. How is your bed?”

  She looked like a rabbit caught in a trap. He enjoyed the power of toying with her. With his free hand, he touched her waist, tugging her gently to him. Her eyes grew wider but she let him slide her along the seat. His hand moved to her back and pulled her near.

  Her hands braced on his chest. That golden hair dangled across his chest and made tantalizing little curls bobble with the train’s movement. Wide pupils stared at him from her deep lavender-blue eyes. Her rose petal mouth parted slightly and her tongue flicked across her bottom lip.

  All at once it ceased to be a game. His desire flared. Blood pumped urgently, bringing life to his loins. He wanted to explore every inch of her exquisite body, to see into her mind, to touch her soul.

  With her mouth only a breath away, he whispered, “Sarah--”

  The train gave a lurch, toppling her onto him. She gave a soft gasp and leaped up. He reached for her hand, but she backed away. After one last astounded glance, she gathered up her skirts and fled.

  He started to rush after her, but she slipped into the berth and closed the curtains behind her. A slamming door could not have been clearer. Nate turned around and threw himself onto his bunk.

  Damn, he’d rushed her. He’d been thinking with the wrong part of his body this time and let his desire for her override his judgment. Now he’d put a wedge between them. Her pale face in the dim light as she stood in the aisle haunted him.

  Had that been terror or disgust in her eyes?

  Chapter Seven

  Sarah sat on the bed and hugged her arms. What had come over her? She had wanted to climb in beside Nate, had let him pull her near. If the train’s unexpected swerve hadn’t suddenly jostled her to her senses, she would have kissed him. What more would she have done? Her face burned with shame. What must he think of her?

  Thinking she’d quickly peek at the children, unseen by anyone, she hadn’t even tied the sash of her wrapper. When she looked down, humiliation spread through her again. Undone ties at the throat of her nightgown let the lace yoke part to reveal the tops of her breasts. The dark circles surrounding her erect nipples showed through the thin cotton.

  Nate must have thought her wanton, inviting his advances. Probably he thought she sought intimacy with him under the guise of checking on the children. Possibly he thought her one of those loose women who pretended to be circumspect in public. Oh, my, how could she face him tomorrow morning?

  Her mind went over the scene. Nate had pulled her gently toward him, so he must have wanted her there. His wolf’s eyes mesmerized her, enticing her near. Recalling how his warm, firm chest felt beneath her hands made her fingers flex. She had wanted to run her hands over his heart to feel the strong beat there and see if its pounding matched her own.

  Longing to caress his broad chest, his strong arms, and run her fingers through his thick hair, she had let her guard down. She admitted she wanted to touch all of him, to explore the hidden delights his body might yield. Her hands touched her heated cheeks. My stars, was she as loose as the women who had worked in her mother’s saloon?

  Pearl had told her she would know when the right man came along because his touch would affect her different from that of other men. He would make Sarah want things she had never experienced with a man. Was Nate The One for her? Or, did she have a carnal nature which had suddenly asserted itself?

  Surely not. Peter Dorfman had courted her for several months but she had never wanted him to hold her, had never been tempted to kiss him. There were no tingles when Peter held her hand. Her skin sizzled when Nate touched her.

  But what if she had given in to her base urges? Luke might have awakened and found them entwined on the bed beneath his, Fiona might have wakened, noticed Sarah’s empty berth, and sought her. Anyone might have come along. The horror of such a scene washed over her and her cheeks once more burned in shame.

  Even worse than what people might think, she would have given in to the careless behavior and broken her personal code of ethics. She had vowed never to act reckless in regard to intimacy. Until tonight, she had kept that promise to herself.

  Sarah slid into bed and pushed open the window curtains to look out. Only an occasional light shone in the jet-black night. The steam heat of the coach clouded the cold glass with condensation. Her finger trailed a heart through the beads of hazy moisture. She sketched NB inside the heart, then paused, shocked at her action.

  Good thing no one else would ever see. She found herself almost uncontrollably attracted to Nate. No one need know how much he occupied her thoughts. Believing his wounds were somehow the result of him being on the wrong side of the law made her wary. It did nothing to dim her fascination.

  She let her fingers slowly trace SK beneath the other letters. Her initials. Were they? Sometimes she didn’t know who she was. She thought of all the surnames she could have used—her mother’s, her natural father’s, Pearl’s. Now her name was Sarah Rochelle Kincaid. So many names, but in her mind she was just plain Sarah. Just herself.

  But who was she? People at home told her she was beautiful and clever. Inside, though, she felt dowdy and plain and sometimes a bit stupid and overwhelmed. Would she ever overcome the effects of the criticism and censure from townspeople in her early life? The whispers and outright name-calling caused Pearl to school her and Storm at home. Because of Pearl’s personal experience with the horrors of bullies, she understood Sarah’s fears and let her live a cloistered life at home until their move to Texas.

  Even then, Sarah couldn’t bear contention or confrontation, avoided any action which might cause disapproval. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t speak up for herself, why she always let people influence her. Until lately. When she�
��d found the children, she’d found the courage to speak and act on her own.

  The heart on the window now looked as if it cried steamy teardrops down the pane. She prayed that wasn’t an omen and rubbed at the damp heart with a corner of the sheet. Then, she closed the window curtains and drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  Nate lay in his bunk cursing himself for ten kinds of a fool. Damn, why did he have to rush Sarah? When he saw the look in those enormous lavender-blue eyes as she backed away, he knew he’d made a terrible mistake. Whether her reaction had been fright at the suggestive nature of their contact or disgust at the thought of intimacy with him didn’t matter. His hasty movements had caused her distress and damaged the trust he’d worked hard to build.

  Things had moved along well until he pushed her. Slowly he had cracked that prim armor. She let him take a part in caring for the children, talked with him as if they were friends. His timing was off tonight, that’s all. He’d let opportunity press him into action when he should have continued his slow assault. Tomorrow he’d be the perfect gentleman again, but carry through his plan to regain what belonged to him. If he won over Miss-Soft-As-Velvet Kincaid in the bargain, so much the better.

  Nate lay awake a long time. He wished the rocking of the train would lull him into a sound sleep free from nightmares. He wondered if he would ever again have a peaceful night’s rest.

  ***

  The morning after her encounter with Nate, Sarah hated to leave the warm cocoon of her berth. Knowing she had to face him eventually, she’d hurried to the ladies room and dressed. As she rushed to help Cindy, he stepped from his berth and they collided. His hands on her arms braced her, and they stayed like that overlong as their gazes met. How easy it would be to lean into his embrace and let his strong arms hold her. She snapped back to consciousness and stepped away.

  She managed to stammer out, “Good morning.”

  “Dare I say you look pretty as a picture this morning?”

  His wolf’s eyes stared into hers, freezing her limbs and thoughts. She wanted to say something witty, but found herself unable to speak or move.