The Calling Birds_The Fourth Day

by Jacqui Nelson

  “I want only you.” Despite his declaration, he gripped the headboard tighter. He couldn’t risk touching her when they stood so close to his bed.

  “I feel the same.”

  Her words made his chest swell with happiness. “You’re tiny but tough. Single-minded but surprising.” He grinned. “Like your needle. You never stop showing me that you’re my perfect match.” His conscience made his gut roll. He wasn’t being honest with her. “You’re my perfect woman, while I’m not even a whole man.”

  Fury flashed like lightning in her dark blue eyes. “You wrote that in your letter. Did Lorena say those vile words?”

  “Wasn’t only her. Every town we came through after the war said the same. Noelle was no different, even after we chose to stay here.”

  She shook her head so vigorously she sent her dark hair swinging. “I’ve glimpsed many kind people in this town. I’d wager they’d say differently. And I’m not just speaking of the brides who’ve recently arrived.”

  “The hostile voices tend to drown out the rest.”

  “Like the miners. And Maybelle and Horatio.”

  “They drove me to master my carpentry, so I could make my wooden legs and stop using my crutches and canes.”

  “And the world is a better place because of your creations. But what of your world? You hide your leg from everyone, including me. We have circled around to my request for full disclosure. Shall I go first?” She shoved her coat from her shoulders and grabbed the skirt of her nightgown.

  He seized her hands to halt her. “Slow down. We shouldn’t rush this.”

  “I think we should. At least the disrobing part. You asked me once to take a leap of faith with you. It is a quick thing, is it not? To leap?”

  Hands still clutching hers, he sat down heavily on the bed. She was right. Do it fast. And first. He couldn’t ask her to jump off a precipice with him. “I need you to stay still for a moment.”

  She gave him a solemn nod. “I can be still as a bird.”

  He didn’t doubt it. Her unwavering gaze held his as he pulled off his boots and shirt, then unbuttoned his trousers. When he went to drag them down, he suddenly became all thumbs. Cloth tangled and trapped. He dropped his gaze to find the holdups and shed his last defense. Over his knees and ankles and onto the floor with the rest.

  He couldn’t lift his gaze. He stared at her small feet bundled in socks below the hem of her nightgown. She stood steadfast while he trembled like a stubborn-fool mule who’d slipped his harness but was too bewildered to do much else.

  He sat naked before her, bared completely to her gaze.

  “Are you ready?” Her hushed voice filled the room and him with longing. “Am I free to move now?”

  “Yes.” His reply was little better than a rasp of sandpaper. He might never be ready, but he wanted her to be free.

  She dropped to her knees in front of him. Her darkly enticing hair came in line of his vision, but not her eyes. She kept her gaze down, lashes lowered, and slowly, as if she sensed his turmoil, laid her palms on his knees.

  One of flesh and bone. The other of wood and hinges.

  He relaxed into her gentle touch then tensed with desire. No hiding that from her either.

  “Your legs are beautiful. Both of them.” Her fingers moved to the straps binding him to the wood. “Will you show me how to undo these?”

  He did. And she touched everything she couldn’t reach before, without hesitation. But her gaze remained lowered and her mood once again hidden.

  “What are you thinking?” He couldn’t stop asking that question.

  “That you have very warm skin.” Her voice had dropped to a throaty murmur that made his blood burn even hotter. “A fire resides inside you. I crave your warmth.”

  “From the moment I saw you studying La Maison’s front hall so intently you brought a thaw to my cold heart. I couldn’t believe that you were smiling.”

  “It was an intriguing situation.”

  “Then you looked at me. And you didn’t smile again until you saw my limp.”

  “I was happy to have finally found my groom.”

  “Now you find yourself in my bedroom. Seeing all of me. But you do not smile or meet my gaze.”

  “Because I become selfish whenever you are near.” She jerked her hands away from him and crossed her arms like a shield over her chest. “I want what I fear I can never have.”

  “You have a permanent place in my home and my heart.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “And what about a place by your side? Not only in your office but in your bed. Every day and night. All night long. No half-life.”

  Her words reminded him of Gus’. No more doing things half-measure. “We cannot do that without…” He hauled in a deep breath. “Will you marry me first thing tomorrow, as soon as we get out of bed?”

  Her gaze shot up to meet his. Her blue eyes danced with a light so bright and lively she made him dizzy with hope. “Finally,” she whispered, “you’ve asked.”

  He raised his hand but stopped a hairsbreadth away from touching her. “And your answer is?”

  “Oui! Yes!” She flung her arms around his neck. “You are my home, my liberation, my love.”

  “My love.” He echoed her words with a whoop as he scooped her up in his arms so he could turn on his seat and lay her on the mattress.

  “Mon univers.” Her fingers tangled in his hair and tugged him down with her.

  “What does that mean?” He stretched out beside her and let their legs intertwine as well.

  She did not pull away or even flinch. Instead, she snuggled closer. “My everything.”

  “How did I get this lucky? God bless Noelle for bringing you to me.” He ran his fingers over her back, the arc of her neck, and the line of her jaw. He only stopped when he touched the blossoming curve of her lips. “Let me show how much you mean to me, mon univers.”

  She kept smiling as he kissed her while she wiggled out of her own clothing and threw it on the floor beside his. They kept each other warm all night.

  CHAPTER 17

  The 4th day of Christmas

  December 28, 1876

  Birdie couldn’t stop touching Jack as they left their bedroom and came down the stairs, heading for the freight office. He seemed like-minded, but since he held her hand and a lantern, he could only use his lips and his gaze to express his affection. But he used them well.

  His golden-brown eyes glowed like sunbursts amid a shower of slow and fast kisses that kept caressing the top of her head and several shiver worthy spots on her neck.

  Her pulse raced even faster when he bent to whisper close to her ear. “I can’t wait to get you home and complete what we began. And then start all over again.”

  She couldn’t wait either. She didn’t want to wait. But she’d given up telling Jack that.

  They’d kept each other blazing hot all night long, but they had not consummated their union. Jack had insisted that he wanted to call her Mrs. Peregrine when he took that particular leap with her. She’d discovered her husband-to-be, whom she’d previously come to believe was the most patient and giving man she’d met, held an unbendable stubborn streak on certain matters.

  But so did she. She didn’t pause to look at anything in his carpentry shop today. She pulled Jack through the room as fast as she could and yanked open the door separating them from the freight office. “Hurry! Let’s collect Gus and go to the Golden Nugget.”

  “What’s the all-fired rush?” Gus grumbled in a sleep-roughened voice as he popped up from his usual spot where he’d been sleeping with his head on the counter. “Isn’t it a tad early to be heading to the saloon for a drink? And who the heck is calling me Gus?”

  “Pardon, Grand-père. I mean, Grandpa. I’m too excited to speak properly.”

  “If Grand-père means Grandpa, I’m all for calling me that instead. Makes me sound fancy.” Gus rubbed his eyes as he watched them hasten up the row dividing the storage area. When his gaze found their claspe
d hands, he slapped his knee and gave them a grin so wide it made her want to do a jig.

  Jack set his lantern on the counter well clear of Gus’ end—which was covered in bits of leather—and twirled her by her hand, like he shared her desire to dance. The single turn halted with her standing with her back to him. He grabbed her other hand and, folding his arms over hers, hugged her close with her spine snug against his chest.

  Gus’ bushy brows arched in wonder and then he whooped. “Glad to see my Sunny Boy shining so bright! I’d hoped you two had a good reason for sleeping in this morning.” He yawned. “Me. I’ve been up for hours.”

  Birdie wondered if dozing at the counter counted as being up. She didn’t have time to ask. She wanted to get married. Fast. “Grandpa— I mean, Grand-père! We have joyful news.”

  “Did you hear that Woody ’n his bride got married yesterday?”

  Birdie gasped in delight. “That’s wonderful.”

  “It surely is,” Jack added. “However, that isn’t our news. We—”

  “I know. I was worried too. His wife—” Gus scratched his beard. “Ain’t that a kick in the noggin’. I knew her name a second ago, but now I can’t remember.”

  “It’s Meizhen,” Birdie said. “But we—”

  Gus snapped his fingers. “Right. Meizhen almost left town, but then she realized what we’ve known for a long time.”

  Birdie couldn’t stifle her sigh of impatience.

  Jack’s breath tickled the top of her head as he chuckled. When the sound vibrated from his chest to her back, she sighed for an entirely different reason.

  “No use rushing a good story,” he murmured against her ear.

  She leaned back and let her head rest against his shoulder as she decided it wasn’t a hardship to stay exactly where she was and allow her marriage to happen when the world was ready. “What have we known for a long time, Grand-père?”

  “That Woody is one-of-a-kind,” Gus replied without hesitation. “A diamond in the rough.”

  “And his new wife has exactly the right polish and poise to make their future perfect.” She squeezed Jack’s hands. “Meizhen and Woody are another case of certain opposites harmonizing. As are Felicity and Reverend Hammond. My head still spins when I recall how swiftly they married. And Kezia and Culver as well.”

  Jack raised one of their clasped hands and planted a kiss as reverent as it was scintillating on her wrist. “And now it’s our turn. But we could use more witnesses. Grandpa, were Woody and Meizhen heading into town or to the barn?”

  “How should I know?” Gus rolled his eyes. “I haven’t talked to Woody in days.”

  Birdie stiffened at the same time that Jack did.

  She watched Gus closely as she asked, “If he or Meizhen didn’t stop by this morning, how did you hear they got married?”

  “Did you leave home alone again?” Jack’s tone had gone gruff with worry.

  Gus scowled at them. “Are you two teamin’ up against me?”

  “Non, Grand-père. Never.”

  “We’re just concerned.”

  “Well,” Gus huffed. “I can truthfully tell you I’ve been sitting here for hours working on my leather tooling. I had no visitors. Nor did I visit Doc Deane like I done the other morning, but...” Gus stared at the door as if suddenly confused or distracted.

  “But?” she prompted

  “Doc has news as well. He aided a mother in birth. Her name is another I’m struggling to recall.” He tapped the counter impatiently. “Might’ve been Fay.”

  “Grandpa,” Jack groaned. “No woman by that name lives in Noelle.”

  “It’ll come clear later. Right now, I’ve remembered something else.” Gus rummaged through the debris on the counter before turning back to them. “Congratulations!” Cupped in his hands lay a leather case stamped with a tiny but round bird on a branch surrounded by a forest of leaves. “I made you a wedding present.”

  “Oh, Grand-père, comme c’est beau! I couldn’t have asked for a more magnificent gift. Thank you.”

  Gus flushed with pride. “I hoped you’d like the bird.”

  “Mais bien sûr! I do.”

  “So do I.” Jack chuckled. “She’s a plump little thing.”

  Birdie twisted around to look up at him. “How do you know it’s a she?”

  “Because she reminds me of you.”

  She felt her eyebrows rise. “I’m plump?”

  He pressed his palm over her stomach. “With luck, one day you will be.”

  The easy intimacy of his touch made her smile as she imagined holding a baby with Jack’s golden hair and eyes.

  “You haven’t seen everything.” Gus flipped over the case and pointed to two loops on the back. “I added these so you can carry it on yer sewing belt.”

  She immediately reached to add it to her chatelaine. “It’s heavier than it appears.”

  “That’s cause there’s more to the gift inside. Take a look,” he urged.

  When she did, she found a jackknife, a tin of matches, a brass whistle, a bandage roll and ointment, and a small flask made of finely worked silver. Her gaze darted up to search Gus’. “Grand-père, what is this?”

  “It’s a survival toolkit.”

  Jack heaved a sigh as he leaned against the counter. “Not counting the flask, it’s the items that went missing from the Christmas Eve shipment.”

  “Nothing’s missing,” Gus objected. “It’s all here. And so are we, but—” He halted abruptly and cleared his throat. “If you ever got lost, this will help you stay safe till you find yer way back to us.”

  A sudden wetness in her eyes was mirrored in Gus’ and Jack’s. “I love my gift more than ever. All of it.”

  “The flask,” Jack muttered in a gravelly voice, “looks like Culver’s silversmith work.”

  Gus nodded vigorously. “I got it yesterday when I visited him.”

  “Did you—?” Jack sealed his lips and shook his head.

  She knew what he’d been about to ask. Had Gus taken the flask without Culver knowing?

  Jack opened and closed his mouth several times as if struggling to find a less accusatory way to ask. “How…much did you pay for it?”

  Gus threw his hands in the air. “Have you completely mislaid yer manners? That’s a terrible thing to ask about a gift ’n I wouldn’t tell you even if I remembered. But I can say that everyone, be they man or woman, can use a drop of whiskey for cleaning a wound or fortifying their heart. And that’s why I chose the flask.”

  She kissed his cheek and attached the case to her belt. “You, Grand-père, are very wise. A bride never received a finer wedding present. I shall wear it with pride.”

  Gus gave Jack an I-told-you-I-know-what’s-best look, but the instant he turned his back to tidy his end of the counter, Birdie emptied the contents of the survival case into a cloth, folded it up tight and handed it to Jack.

  “You must give these to their rightful owners immediately,” she whispered.

  Jack lowered his voice to match hers. “And then I’ll immediately buy them back and return them to you.”

  “Or we can wait to order more. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Jack glanced from the loot in his hand to the door to her. “I’m not happy about going anywhere without you by my side.”

  “Someone should stay with Gus.”

  “We could take him with us.” His shoulders sagged, realizing no doubt how Gus’ love for conversing would complicate his current task. “We could wait and return these later.”

  “A delay might open the door for more woes. I do not wish to get married while in the possession of pilfered goods.”

  He exhaled a resigned breath and raised his voice to its usual volume. “Grandpa, I have an errand to run, but when I return, be ready to go to the Nugget.”

  “What in tarnation would take us to the saloon this early?” Gus asked. “I can’t imagine why you need a drink this bad.”

  She grabbed Jack’s coat fr
om the peg by the door and held it out to him. “Hurry up, Jack Peregrine. The sooner you leave, the sooner you come back.”

  He donned the coat, but then wrapped his arms around her. “I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She hugged him just as tightly. “And I promise I’ll be here waiting for you.”

  He raised his head and scanned her face. “You’re done running? You’re no longer worried what the town might say or do?”

  “They can say whatever they want. They can also throw me in jail or cart me away for questioning in a court in Denver or another country. I’m willing to risk all of that to spend one more second with you—today in our home in Noelle.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Jack hadn’t been gone more than a minute when the front door flew open with a screech so loud it made Birdie jump. A vulgarly dressed woman strode into the office and slammed the door behind her.

  “If you’ve come to question me about the lady I’m seeing,” Gus growled like a wolf guarding his den, “you can turn around ’n leave.”

  A second jolt of surprise made her study Gus closely. His lips formed a hard line while his eyes shot daggers at their visitor. He appeared too irate to be confused. But seeing a lady? When would Gus have had time for that? There were few occasions where she’d seen him outside Peregrines’ Post.

  “Meezeir, men who obey my rules have leetle quarrel with moi.” Madame Bonheur’s fake French accent and arrogance were unmistakable. “My dezpleasure eez with your grandson’s unwillingness to give me heez beeznus as well. Today…” She glanced at Birdie and snapped her fingers. “Et voilà! My dezires come true.”

  Birdie planted her palm on her hip, close to the scissors on her belt. “Espèce de pourriture. Votre français est déplorable.”

  The madam blinked in bewilderment. “Excusez-moi?”

  “Quel est le problème? Was I speaking too fast for you?”

  “Nope. Not for me.” Gus’ guffaws echoed off the ceiling. “I clearly heard you call her deplorable.”

  “Oui, and a lousy swine. Madame Bonheur, your brash fakery is not welcome here.”

  The madam glared down her nose at her. “We have not met, but you know my name. My reputation is as large as you are small. And now that your guardian has departed, we shall parlay.” She may have dropped her French chicanery, but she continued playing a game similar to a cat taunting a mouse.