Ted couldn't help but feast his eyes upon her. She was as beautiful as any goddess in her nakedness, and he pulled her under the covers with him, and ran his hands over her body. Her mouth sought his, demanding kisses . . . and more.
"God almighty," he gasped. "Cassie, you are so beautiful. I love you so much. Don't ever leave me. I'd do anything to keep you . . ."
"Shh." She put her fingers over his mouth. "We don't need to talk about that now. Make love to me Ted. The way you did the first time. I want you—now. "
This time he didn't fumble. His natural tenderness and his sincere love for the woman by his side lent him patience when she wanted to forge ahead with the experience . . . made him know instinctively just how to touch her in all the places that made her beg for more . . . and finally drove him to make wild, fervent love with her until those same crazy fireworks lit up the world for both of them.
Ted held her close afterward for the longest time, until she opened her eyes to see him stretched full length in a sensual languor with an indescribable smile on his face. Cassie was so weak with pleasure she could barely move, except to caress him with a touch as soft as the darkness that surrounded them.
"Oh, Ted. That was . . . wonderful."
"Mmmm," he agreed sleepily.
"Would you mind . . . if we start all over again?" she whispered into his ear, gently nibbling the lobe.
"Why, Cassie . . . that's exactly what I had in mind," he whispered back. He nuzzled her throat and his kisses moved down her body until he had lit a fire deep within her . . . and they were consumed together.
Chapter Fourteen
The next Sunday Liz went into labor. Abuelita had come to visit, to discuss baby names, and to give her the baby clothes she had knitted. Suddenly, Liz's water broke, flooding the chair, the floor, and as Liz said later, erasing the last vestiges of dignity she had.
Brock drove her and her husband to the hospital and the rest of the family straggled into the waiting room a few at a time through the afternoon to await the arrival of the next generation.
It was a memorable experience as far as Cassie was concerned. She looked around at everyone and wondered if all families went en masse to the hospital when a new baby was about to be born. Would they all be waiting like this some day for her to deliver? She blushed at her thoughts . . . and the memory of making love with Ted.
She knew where babies came from, and what birth control was for, and she simply hadn't bothered. Cassie shifted nervously. She could be where Liz was right now in about eight months. She passed the time by mentally calculating the days of her cycle, and decided not to worry too much. They'd managed to make love on her "safe" days, through sheer dumb luck.
But what on earth would she do if their lovemaking brought a baby into the picture? She'd feel obligated to stay married to Ted then, and he'd feel trapped. They'd have to be more responsible next time . . .
Before Cassie could think about it anymore, Liz's husband Daniel burst through the waiting room doors. A blue paper mask dangled around his neck and he wore a disposable scrub suit to match. "It's a girl!" he yelled joyfully. "And it looks like she has my mother's red hair. Cassie, you won't be the only redheaded Wellman after all!"
"Look, Ted," Cassie stood in awe in front of the nursery window, watching the nurses give the tiny baby a sponge bath. "Look at her little ears and toes. Oh . . . look at all that red hair."
"Guess you jinxed her," he whispered as he, too, looked on in wonder at his newborn niece's miniature perfection. He put his arms around Cassie's waist from behind. "We're her aunt and uncle. How do you like that?"
"I like it very much," she said simply. Ted turned her around to kiss her before the nurses looked up.
In two days Liz brought the baby to her mother's house. And in almost no time that little human being had wrapped Cassie firmly around her tiniest finger. During the week, if Ted wanted to find his wife, all he had to do was to go to the nursery Maria had set up just off the living room on the first floor of the house. When Cassie wasn't at work, she and Abuelita were in the nursery, usually just watching little Rose.
The night Liz and her husband took the baby home, Cassie paced the living room floor restlessly. She picked up a magazine and tossed it aside. She tried to watch sitcoms on television but the jokes didn't make sense and her mind wandered. She thought about driving her truck into town and sitting at the Dairy Dip with a soda for a while, just to watch the people come and go, but that didn't tempt her either. Evidently she was in one of her Jesus moods, as her granny used to call them. Granny had said that Cassie didn't know what she wanted, wouldn't want it if she got it and Jesus himself couldn't live with her.
She put on a pair of cut-off blue jeans and Ted's T-shirt, which was still several sizes too big, and went out to sit on the porch swing. Maybe some time alone would be good . . . she'd work this restlessness out of her mind while the frogs chirped and the swing creaked. But the night was too hot for frogs, and the swing had been oiled since she'd last swung in it.
"Hi." Ted came around unexpectedly from the back of the house. "Supper's over already?" He was filthy. His boots were caked with mud and his once-white T-shirt looked like it had been fished up from the bottom of Blue River. The dust in his hair made it look brown instead of black and a fine rim of dirt lined his forehead where his hat had been.
"You've been working hard," she said, without emotion.
"Yep, and I'm hungry as a bear. Let me shuck these dirty clothes and take a shower. Maybe I'll bring my plate out here and eat on the front porch." He disappeared before Cassie could tell him that nobody, and she meant nobody who still needed to breathe to live, wanted to be in the same county with her when she was in a mood like this.
She finally sorted through her feelings long enough to realize that this mood had settled in when Liz and Daniel took baby Rose home. But it wasn't as if Rose was her baby, no matter how much she missed her . . . what was really wrong with her?
Ted backed out of the door, carrying his supper on a tray. "Got room for a passenger?" he asked and sat down beside Cassie before she could answer. The swing stopped as he began to eat and her mood worsened.
"I'd like to show you something when I finish eating," he said. He shoveled in the food, which annoyed her more than a little. "Okay with you?"
She started to snap at him and tell him she didn't give a damn. But something inside her heart told her he didn't even know she was angry. Really, no man should have to put up with a moody witch like her.
"Not very talkative tonight, are you?" Ted popped a chunk of buttered biscuit into his mouth.
Cassie shook her head.
"Missing Miss Rose?"
"Yep," she answered.
He looked at her for a moment. "Is this the first time you've ever been around a tiny baby?" he asked curiously.
"Yep," she said again.
"Hey, if you want to be alone, just say so. I know how you feel. There's been times when I damn sure didn't want to be talked to. After John died there were times I thought I would scream when people talked to me." Ted cocked his head to one side and studied her.
"I think I would like to be alone," she said, wondering if her black mood would get her into another pointless fight.
He picked up his tray and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "I still want to show you something later if you want. If not, you can see it another time. Come and get me if you want company." Ted crossed the porch, and went back into the house.
His family would probably think they'd been fighting again, she thought, but they hadn't for a while. He seemed to be changing in ways that she liked, whether he knew it or not.
Cassie wished she could say the same for herself. She'd been slipping into a funk ever since little Miss Rose had been born. But Cassie could see Miss Rose every day if she wanted. Liz was sweet and understanding, and she welcomed her help with the baby.
Her granny would have said flatly that Cassie was getting broody—wanted a baby of her ow
n. She squelched the thought. She was only eighteen years old and she wanted to go back to school, not have a baby. She wanted to get started on a real career—and a real life.
Sure. Right. Whatever that was.
Chapter Fifteen
Ted finished his supper in the kitchen, quietly climbed the stairs to his bedroom, flopped down on the bed and tried to make some sense of this dull ache in his heart. He had an awful feeling that Cassie was getting ready to run away again. She'd been in a terrible mood all day . . . now she wouldn't talk to him. Something was up, he just knew it. If she wanted to go, he couldn't keep her. She was young, just barely eighteen . . . but then Alicia was only a little older, and she was ready to settle down. He was twenty-one . . .just one year younger than Tyler, his sister's fiancé. It wasn't uncommon for a girl to get married right out of high school and it wasn't uncommon for a man his age to accept the responsibility of a wife and family. But if she wanted her freedom, he loved her enough to let her go. Even if it half-killed him.
There was a gentle knock on his door.
"Yes?" he answered without taking his eyes from the spot on the ceiling where he'd swatted a fly several months ago.
"Can I come in?" Cassie opened the door just slightly.
"Sure."
"I'd like to see what it is you wanted to show me, but if you're tired . . ."
"Come sit beside me." Ted patted the edge of the bed.
She left the door open and sat on the edge of the bed. He took her small hand in his big one. "Are you in a better mood?"
"Yep," she nodded.
"What's so funny?" Her impish grin was back and so was the twinkle in the green eyes that had been almost lifeless half an hour before.
"I get in these moods sometimes," she said. "Granny called them my Jesus moods. I'm pretty hard to live with when I'm in the middle of one. She said I didn't know what I wanted, and wouldn't want it if I got it, and Jesus himself couldn't live with me then."
"I'll try to remember that in the future." He gave her hand a warm squeeze. "I guess I don't stand a chance if the man from Galilee couldn't live with you."
"What did you want to show me? The inside of your bedroom? I've seen it," she teased.
"You sassy piece of baggage." Ted grabbed her and pulled her down beside him, giving her a quick kiss.
She didn't push him away.
"No, I don't want to show you my bedroom." He rolled off the other side of the bed and picked up his sneakers. "You still wearing those sandals you had on out on the porch?"
"Yep." She raised one shapely leg and shook it at him.
"Then go put on some sneakers and socks. We're going to take a long walk and it could be past midnight when we get back." Ted tugged his shoes on and took a T-shirt from the drawer of a massive chest.
"Okay," she agreed. "I'll be downstairs in five minutes. Betcha I beat you."
They met at the top of the stairs in two minutes, both of them out of breath and giggling. Bob and Maria were sitting in the living room, watching television, and although one of them winked, they acted pretty much as if Ted and Cassie weren't even in the house, let alone flirting with each other.
"Be back later," Ted yelled over his shoulder as they dashed through the living room and out the back door.
Once they were safely outside, Ted took Cassie's hand and paced his steps to hers. "We could drive the first mile in the truck, but it's a nice night. Let's see if we can talk for a whole mile without fighting."
"Hmm," she murmured. "We don't have enough neutral topics to walk a whole mile without bickering."
"Let's start with Rose then," he said off the top of his head.
"Oh, Ted, isn't she the most adorable little thing you've ever seen? I was honored when they named her Rose after my middle name." Ted smiled down at her. The stars threw off less light than she did right then.
"It is a pretty name," he agreed.
"Must be something words can't describe to know your love produces something like Miss Rose," Cassie added.
"Sometimes babies get produced when there is no love," Ted said honestly.
"No," she disagreed. "Babies get made and born every minute, but it takes love to make a baby like Rose."
They walked in silence for a while, breathing in the hot night air and listening to the crickets' serenade. The black dirt was packed hard under their feet and weeds grew in the ruts where Ted's old work truck drove back and forth several times a day. Finally, to avoid bumping into one another, Ted walked in one rut and Cassie walked in the other, and they held hands across the weedy middle.
"Well, we've come at least a quarter of a mile and you haven't bitten my head off yet. Do you think it's the heat? Maybe we're only going to fight when it's cold," he said.
"Maybe you're right." She surprised herself by agreeing. It had been on the tip of her tongue to lash out at him, to remind him she only bit his head off when he was being obstinate.
"So how much longer do we have to be angels? How far is it to this something you want to show me?"
He grinned. "About a half a mile to the end of this road, then about half a mile back down the lane."
"Another mile? Do you expect me to keep my halo straight?" she asked. "That's tough for a redhead. Maybe I'd be less argumentative if I dyed my hair."
"Don't. I like it red."
"Careful. We're on the verge of an argument."
"Is this an argument?"
"No. It's a reasonable discussion. Can't you tell the difference?"
"Cassie—" he said warningly.
"Is this the lane you're talkin' about?" Cassie conveniently changed the subject.
"Yes," he nodded. "It leads right down to the surprise. I was going to wait until it was finished to show it to you, but I couldn't. I want to share it with you right now."
After a while she could see the form of something in the moonlight, rising up at the end of the long path. It looked like the skeleton of a house, one that was falling down from years of neglect. After a few hundred feet more, she could see plainly it wasn't an old house, but a new one in the first stages of building.
"Ta-da! My surprise. You're the first to see it." Ted let go of her hand and with a wide sweep introduced her to the house. "I've hired a crew to help me frame it up. It's more work than I thought. Guess I got carried away."
"It's beautiful," she whispered, awestruck by the sheer size of the two-storey house, nestled down in a glade surrounded by trees.
"Dad said there was a house here once, but it burned down years and years ago. The trees were small then, but since no one was interested in building way back in here again, the forest grew back. I love the quietness, don't you?" He took her hand again. "I want you to come inside and let me show you around. Do you like the big verandah?"
He indicated a wraparound porch that existed only in his mind's eye. "I could hang a porch swing over there at that end and put a split rail fence all around. This is the front door. Come right inside, Cassie." Ted pulled her through the two-by-four studs where a door would be hung in the future.
"Oh, it's just lovely. It looks like the "Before" pictures in Better Homes and Gardens," she giggled.
"Don't make fun," he said in mock seriousness. "When this house is finished it could be featured in that magazine." He pointed out more imaginary features. "This is where the fireplace will be, and there will be glass doors covering the bookcases on each side that go from floor to ceiling." He didn't tell her that the bookcases were especially for her since she liked to read so much.
"I can't even imagine owning that many books," she whispered.
"This is the kitchen." He took her through another set of studs. "Which will have all the modern-day conveniences. How does that strike you?"
"You are up-to-date," she agreed, laughing. "What's your color scheme?"
"Hadn't made up my mind yet. What do you think would look good in a log house in the woods?" he asked.
"Blue," she said without hesitation. "The same blue as
the sky in the winter. With touches of green here and there and maybe a little mauve to pick up the summer sunset. A house in a natural setting should have natural colors. It's going to be lovely." Cassie turned around and in a moment could visualize the whole kitchen . . . could almost smell cookies baking in the oven, almost hear little Rose laughing as she swung on the porch swing, and waited to eat some.
"Okay," Ted moved on. "Want to see the bedrooms?"
"Why, Ted Wellman!" she exclaimed. "Here we are in the middle of nowhere and you want to take me to the bedroom . . ."
"Don't tempt me, woman," he chuckled. "Now, the master bedroom is back here. Those holes in the floor are where the plumbing goes in for the master bathroom. There'll be a garden tub, a big glassed-in shower stall and a powder room. The other three bedrooms are upstairs with doors that open onto the upstairs porch."
"Why such a big house for an old bachelor who can't even remember how long to microwave his supper?" she asked bluntly.
His tongue was suddenly glued to the roof of his mouth. He felt the way he had on his first day of school and the teacher asked him his name. "Cassie," he finally cleared his throat and spoke. "I've always wanted to build this house. But I never expected to live in it all alone. I was hoping you'd want to share it with me—someday."
Tears came to her eyes. She jerked her hand free of his and stumbled through the studs back to the front porch.
Ted followed her. "I'm asking you to be my wife and not just on paper. I'm asking you to marry me because I know in my heart I love you and I don't want to live without you," he said honestly. But Cassie didn't seem to want to listen.
"It isn't real, Ted."
"I know what I feel for you, Cassie. It's sure as hell real."
"Ted, I have to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you love me . . . not just for the moment . . . not just for what we do when we fall into bed together. I have to know that you want to stay with me forever." The words were from the bottom of Cassie's heart and it hurt her soul to say them.
"I can promise you that I will. And I love you and if you love me, that should be the end of it." Ted put his arm around her shoulders, but she pulled away.
Small Town Romance Collection: Four Complete Romances & A New Novella Page 53