The Wedding Promise

by Carolyn Davidson

  And then he’d attained his goal. His fingertips were beneath the delicate fabric, sliding around to the back of her thighs and he drew her upward to kneel before him.

  She inhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing as she allowed the intimacy, and as if she’d drawn in enough air to suffice for a time, she ceased to breathe. His hands moved higher, barely skimming the lush curves of her bottom, fingers pressing against the tender skin.

  And then he caught his breath, his eyes narrowing as he savored the delicate flesh, brushing callused fingertips where only his touch had trespassed. Her head fell back, her breath exhaling audibly, and she trembled, swaying before him.

  “Come to me.” His whisper was taut, as filled with demand as was the arousal he made no attempt to hide from her. He was naked beneath the sheet, exposed and vulnerable, and she knelt before him, as beguiling and as delicately made as a vestal virgin in the temples of old.

  Temptation, formed in the flesh and blood of a woman, but no longer virgin flesh, no longer bound by the bonds of innocence. She looked down at him and her lips parted, pink and damp, her nostrils flaring with each breath she took, her eyes shimmering with the fire of remembered ecstasy.

  Her gaze traveled from his, her mouth trembling as she pulled aside the sheet, looking fully upon his manhood. She smiled, a knowing, intimate caress of her eyes that brought new life to the already burgeoning member.

  “Come to me.” Urgency threaded the words, and he tugged gently on her hand.

  “Yes…” It was consent to his need, and yet there was in her no degree of subservience, no trace of submission to a greater will than her own. She bent forward, her hands resting upon his shoulders as she met his lips in a kiss that sealed her response.

  “Yes.” She repeated the word and it was more than permission to do as he pleased. More than a promise to fulfill his need. Submissive to his hands upon her legs, she let him lift her, fitting her astride. She felt the sheer fabric of her gown tugged from between their bodies, and lifted her arms high to permit its removal. And then shivered as he penetrated the depths of her womanhood.

  “Rachel! Rachel!” Like a chanted refrain, he spoke her name, his head back, his eyes closed, teeth clenched against the pleasure she brought him.

  She rose on her knees and he gripped her tightly, his fingers pressing without caution against her hips. With indelicate haste, he urged her to enclose him once more in her depths and she allowed it, her small bubble of laughter echoing in the throbbing of his heartbeat.

  Again she lifted herself from him, slowly, leaving him bereft as his yearning body strained upward. And again, he pressed her to contain his manhood.

  “Rachel!” It was a groan of need, his heart pumping his life’s blood in a frantic pace.

  “I love you.” Almost, he failed to hear the words, and he stilled.

  “I love you,” she repeated, the whispered vow unmistakable, as she took the full portion of his male self into her depths. Once more her vow escaped on a sigh.

  “I love you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “That dust rag isn’t doin’ much good just layin’ there next to you.”

  Spoken in a low growl, the words brought a smile to Rachel’s lips. She ducked her head as she played the final notes of the song she’d been humming all morning. Reverently, her hands closed the lid of the piano and she picked up the cloth from the seat beside her.

  “Who put you in charge of the household servants?” she asked, working at the thin layer of dust on the music rack.

  “I hired the cook and the wash lady, and seems to me you look a whole lot like both of them.”

  There was in Cord’s voice a teasing lilt she’d seldom heard and her hands stilled in their task. His presence warm against her back, Rachel leaned her head against his shirtfront.

  “I wish…” She laughed softly and closed her eyes. “No, I don’t either.”

  “Now how can I make your wishes come true if I don’t even know what they are?” he asked, his hands clasping her shoulders.

  “I was going to wish for more time to play the piano, but then I decided that if I could play it any time I wanted to, it wouldn’t give me that pleasure to look forward to.”

  He bent low over her, his face against the side of her throat, his mouth pressing damp kisses against the soft skin. “Maybe I ought to hire somebody else to live in and give you and Rena a hand with the heavy work. We should be able to swing the expense.”

  “Should I be more careful what I spend at the emporium, Cord? I try not to waste any money.” The vision of four new dresses she and Lorena had made in the past week loomed in her mind. “You’ve spent a lot on me and the boys.”

  “You haven’t taken a paycheck from me since we got married, Rachel. I had to figure out something to do with the money.”

  “Oh, you…” She turned on the bench and smiled up at him. “You know I couldn’t take wages for doing a wife’s work.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “Seems to me you were better off just working here as household help. At least you had some change to rattle around in that little old purse of yours.”

  She slid from the piano bench and stood. “You’ve given me more than I ever hoped to have, Cord. I have a home and a family all around me, and I can put down roots here for me and my children.”

  He tilted his head, his brow quirking a bit. “Children? Is there something you need to tell me?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not I’ve just been thinking about the future a little. About having a family. Your daddy must have planned on a whole slew of young’uns when he had this house built. There are enough bedrooms upstairs for a half dozen or so, if we double them up a bit”

  His grip tightened, then slid the length of her arms to lock his fingers with hers. “You really mean that, don’t you? You’re willing to fill those bedrooms with my sons and daughters?”

  She nodded, meeting his gaze, wondering at the emotion that drew his mouth into a firm line. His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he tugged her against him. His hands released her fingers and his arms surrounded her.

  “Rachel!” He called her name in a whispered growl that pierced her, a sound that brought tears to her eyes. He held her fiercely, his head bent to her, and she tilted her chin upward, seeking to meet his gaze.

  “Cord? Did you think I wouldn’t want to have your children? Are you surprised that I…”

  His mouth halted the words she spoke, and his groan was one of fulfillment as he lifted her in his arms, forming her to the muscular length of his body. His lips took what she offered, nibbling at the softness of her mouth, his tongue edging its way in a delicate foray past the edges of her teeth.

  It was a gentle invasion, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to his greater strength. His arms gripped her firmly, one beneath her bottom, the other across her back. A flush of desire warmed her, his scent feeding the flame of her need, and she inhaled the musky, male aura of the man she loved.

  “Cord?” It was a question without form, only the calling of his name, the essence of her need alive in the speaking of that lone syllable.

  He shuddered and his arms released their hold, allowing her to slide the length of him, his hands holding her firmly as she caught her balance. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I didn’t mean to get so carried away. Maybe the idea of you carrying my baby…” He grinned, a crooked twist of his mouth. “Damn, the parlor’s no place for this!”

  His eyes scanned her face and he drew in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring with the effort. His voice was husky, his lips barely moving as he spoke. “You don’t hold anything back, do you, honey?”

  “Should I?” Her blush was fading, but the brilliance of her eyes and the shudder she could not control gave evidence of her desire for the man she’d married.

  He shook his head. “No. I like you just the way you are, Rae. Honest as the day is long.”

  Her heart thumped more slowly, and her delight was dimmed by the
words he spoke. He liked her. He liked her! He thought she was honest. And obviously, the love that had bloomed and grown to fullness within her heart was not matched by the emotion he was willing to bestow upon her.

  “Cord…” She stepped back from him, her glance flitting to the open door. “I’ve got a pile of work to do this morning.”

  He grimaced. “And I’m keeping you from it.”

  It was an effort to smile, but she did. It was hard to look pleasant as she eased from his touch, but she managed. And when his fleeting kiss brushed against her mouth, she was the first to draw back from the caress.

  “Get on outside,” she said brightly, turning toward the mantel. “I’ve got to finish up in here before I put dinner on the table.”

  “I smelled sauerkraut when I came in.”

  She nodded. “I found some jars on the pantry shelf. I’m cooking it with a piece of pork.”

  “With new potatoes?” he asked hopefully.

  She waved the dust cloth at him. “Go on, now. You’ll have plenty to eat.” She looked at him and laughed aloud at his mock pleading, his grin coaxing her humor.

  He backed toward the door and his gaze swept her from top to bottom. “Hiring you was the best move I’ve ever made, ma’am.” He was gone then, stepping quickly into the hallway, his boots noisy against the uncarpeted floor.

  She finished quickly with her dusting, aware of the need for haste. Jake’s room was no longer hers to worry about, Lorena having taken on the task. The double doors of the library were closed, and Rachel paused as she glanced that way.

  Her playing the piano had brought about the sliding together of those tall doors, that was obvious. They’d been wide open when she began work in the parlor. If only…

  There had to be a way. Somehow, in order to put his life together, Jake had to regain the joy he’d once found in music. Rachel shook her head. If only…

  “We’re gonna go up to the line shack with Sam, Rachel!”

  Henry’s joyful claim resounded from the kitchen walls, and his sister turned from the ironing board she’d set up on the backs of two chairs.

  “Who’s we?” Her iron held in midair, she lifted her brows, awaiting his reply.

  “Me and Jay, and a couple of others. Sam said we could ride pretty good and he’d take care of us, Rae.”

  The excitement overflowed from the boy as he stood first on one foot, then the other. “We need to take a blanket along and a clean shirt, Sam says.”

  The screen door opened with a bang, and her younger brother stepped across the sill. “Did you hear, Rae? Did you know we’re gonna sleep—”

  “I heard.” She placed the iron back on the stove, picking up its mate. Licking her finger, she touched its surface, listening to the sizzle with a smile. A few swift passes over the ironing board took her attention and then she put the iron aside as she lifted the shirt.

  “Is it all right?” Henry’s voice quavered as he spoke.

  For the past months they’d been within call or reach. Somehow, allowing the overnight trip was more difficult than it ought to be. She turned to the boy, forcing a smile to her lips.

  “Yes, of course it’s all right. I’m sure Sam will look after you both.” She watched as the two children grinned their delight then fought for space as they shot back through the kitchen doorway onto the porch.

  “We can go, Sam!” Jay shouted as he jumped to the ground, his legs pumping as his feet carried him toward the barn.

  Henry turned back abruptly, the top step beneath his new boots. “Thanks, Rachel. We’ll be good.”

  “I know you will,” she managed. As if they were her own children, she released the strings that bound her to them. And they were, in reality, hers. Her responsibility, her only kin in this new life they were forming.

  “Sam says we’ll ride out after supper. He said to fix up a sack of bacon and coffee and beans and…” His youthful forehead wrinkled as the boy sought to remember the list he’d been entrusted with. “I think he said bread too, Rae.”

  “I’m sure he did,” she answered, her mind busy with the supplies needed for such a venture. “Tell Sam I’ll work on it as soon as I finish the ironing.”

  Supper was to be side pork and corn bread, along with a kettle of green beans from the garden. They were the first pickings from the lush rows she’d tended with care. A burlap bag of sweet corn, fresh from the Claypools’ place, had been dropped off early in the morning. Lorena had peeled for almost an hour, filling the biggest kettle and storing the rest in the pantry for the next day’s dinner.

  Within the hour the ironing board was stowed behind the pantry door. The pile of freshly folded shirts awaited their owners as Cord came in from the barn. With unerring aim, he came around the table, reaching his goal, his arms encircling Rachel’s waist.

  “The boys told you?”

  She nodded. “I’ve got a box of things packed for their breakfast and enough for dinner, I think.”

  “Sam’ll take care of them,” he assured her.

  “I know.”

  “You’re worried already, aren’t you?” He turned her in his arms, tipping her face upward with the palm of his hand.

  “I can’t help it, Cord. They’re my responsibility.”

  “Mine, too,” he reminded her. “And Sam will guard them with his life. Buck and Jamie are riding along. They’re going to be mending fences and checking for strays we might have missed in the branding.”

  She shook her head impatiently. “I know they’ll be fine. It’s just hard for me…”

  He tilted his head to one side. “Wanna hear something that’ll please you?”

  Her lips formed a pout. “You think I’m fussing for nothing, don’t you?”

  He watched her silently, and his gaze narrowed a bit as he focused on her mouth. “I think I’m gonna have to kiss that sour little look right off you in a minute.”

  “I’m not sour!” Her chin firmed as she shot him a warning glance. “What are you going to tell me?”

  “I heard something from Cecil Hampton at the bank.” He rocked on his heels and grinned widely. “Seems they’re going to be breaking ground for a new building in town. The biggest Green Rapids has ever seen, in fact.”

  “The theater?” Her eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of his excitement.

  “The very same.” His smile was satisfied now. “Told you you’d be pleased.”

  “Who’s to do the work?”

  “They’re sending in an architect fellow from New York to lay out the plans and another man to supervise things. They expect the townsfolk to supply half the labor.”

  “Like a barn raising?”

  He nodded. “Sorta like that, only on a bigger scale. The fancy stuff inside will be shipped in from New York in a month or so, once the building is up.”

  “It’s really going to happen!” Her whisper was hushed, her brow unfurrowed, as a smile of delight brightened her face. “Oh, Cord! Won’t it be wonderful to have music and plays and everything, right here?”

  “Not for a while, Rachel,” he cautioned her. “It’s going to take some time to get things rolling, I’m sure.”

  She shook her head impatiently. “I know! But, just think. By the fall, maybe. Or at least by Christmastime, we’ll…”

  “Uh, Mr. Hampton wants to talk to you, Rachel.” Cord’s words halted her excitement.

  “Whatever for?” she asked.

  He had the grace to look apologetic. “I told him you were pretty talented on the piano.”

  She shook her head. “You didn’t! I’m just mediocre, Cord. Passable, maybe. My teacher back home said I had a nice touch, but I certainly don’t have a tremendous amount of talent.”

  “Jake thinks you’re good.” As if that were the last word to be said on the subject, Cord folded his arms across his chest.

  “He said that?”

  Cord nodded.

  “What does Mr. Hampton want with me?” Rachel pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.

>   “He said they’ll be needing someone to help with practice, before the troupe of actors and performers comes into town. They want some locals with talent to put on performances, maybe do some short plays and such.”

  “I wish—” Rachel covered her mouth, her fingertips resting against her lips. She looked up at Cord, once more caught up in the misery that Jake McPherson lived with daily.

  “What, Rae?” Cord sat across from her and reached for her other hand. “What do you wish, honey?”

  “‘If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride,’” she returned with barely concealed sadness.

  “Jake?” he asked quietly.

  She nodded. “I’ve said so many ‘if onlys’ about him, Cord. If only this and if only that, and it hasn’t changed a thing. He closes the library door whenever I play the piano.”

  “He’s come a long way. You don’t know what he was like before you got here.”

  She laughed, a joyless sound. “I know what he was like the day after I arrived, though, and that was pretty much as bad as I ever want him to be.” She considered their hands, clasped tightly in the middle of the table. “Do you think he and Lorena will ever…”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” He laughed aloud.

  “Sounds about as certain as my opinion,” she said, her mouth relaxing in a smile.

  Supper was over and done with and the riders had headed out, Jay and Henry waving with enthusiasm. Rachel watched from the porch until the small caravan disappeared from sight, then drew a deep breath and turned toward the kitchen.

  “I’ve got the dishes done up, Rachel. Why don’t you just sit on the swing and rest for a while?” Lorena stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

  “How’d you talk Jake into coming to the table tonight?” Rachel asked. “He hasn’t come out of that room for almost a week.”

  Lorena looked over her shoulder, then pushed the screen door open, stepping closer to where Rachel leaned against a porch pillar. “He just decided all on his own. It was right after you played this afternoon. He closed the door, just like he always does, but you can hear the music anyway, you know.”