“Bath time,” he said, and lifted her into his arms.
“I think I can walk the three steps to the tub.” She laughed as he carried her. He set her into the hipbath and she sunk down as far as she could. “I wish we could figure out a way to make a shower.”
Quincy hunkered down beside her. “Do you mean a rain shower?”
“Yes, sort of. In the future, we have indoor bathrooms, which usually consist of a toilet, bathtub, sink, and shower.”
“Toilet?”
“It’s an indoor privy. A chamber pot that cleans itself. So much more sanitary, let me tell you.” She gave him a quick explanation of how toilets and showers worked. His expression grew reflective, and Victoria laid her hand on his arm. “What’s going on in your brain, Gus?”
“I’m just trying to envision a bathroom.”
Victoria giggled. “It’s pretty cool.”
Quincy handed her rose-scented soap and dipped a washcloth in the water. Soaping up the cloth, he gently began to wash her. She leaned back and relaxed into his ministrations. Within minutes, she groaned and then stood. Quincy dropped the soap into the water. “What are you doing?”
She smiled down at him and crooked her finger. “Come here.”
“You’re not finished.”
“Whose fault is that? Come here.”
Standing, he wrapped an arm around her waist, lifted her from the tub, and carried her to the bed. “Not the bed, I just changed the sheets. They’ll get all wet.”
“I don’t care,” he said.
He made love to her one more time and then wrapped his arms around her and stroked her back. Within minutes, he heard the evenness of her breathing, kissed her shoulder as he pulled the covers up around them, and watched as the setting sun sent shadows of twilight creeping through the four windows of the cabin. Finally, he allowed himself to sleep when the moon rose and filled the small cabin with light.
* * *
Victoria couldn’t breathe.
Darkness surrounded her, squeezed her, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Recognizing immediately that she was in some kind of dream, she tried to calm her racing heart. A breeze, cold and damp, whispered across her face. The sound of a horse’s whinny carried to her as the wind got harder. “Rocky?” she whispered.
Another whinny.
“Rocky!” she called out to him and heard his hoof-beats.
Watching him as he ran towards her, she smiled. He was such a magnificent creature. His mane flew in the wind as he made his way toward her. In awe, she stood still and quiet. All of a sudden, he stumbled. “Rocky? What’s wrong?”
He stumbled again and then went down hard. “Rocky! No!”
She ran. Faster and faster, but she couldn’t reach him. Her feet felt like they were mired in the clay. She scrabbled at the ground, trying to claw her way forward. He was dying. She knew it. Why couldn't she get to him?
“Rocky!”
“Rocky!”
Feeling strong arms envelop her, she tried to push away.
“Victoria? Sweetheart, wake up.”
Opening tear-filled eyes, she looked into the concerned face of her husband, mere inches from hers.
“It was a dream, sweetheart,” he said softly as he stroked her face.
She sobbed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Something’s going to happen to Rocky.”
“Shhh. It was a dream, Rebel.”
“No, he’s going to get hurt. Something terrible is going to happen to him.”
“He’s right outside. Would it make you feel better if we check on him?”
She nodded into his chest.
“All right. Come on. I’ll find your robe.”
He pulled his pants on and located her robe, then they padded their way outside the cabin and out to the makeshift covering for the horses. She called for Rocky and he whinnied. Perfectly fine and happy to see her. Victoria leaned against his shoulder, wrapped her arms around his neck, and stroked his face before handing him a lump of sugar.
“Feel better?” Quincy asked as he pulled her away from her horse.
“Yes, Gus. Thank you.”
He led her back into bed and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Sleep,” he ordered, and kissed her neck.
Nodding in consent, she fell asleep almost immediately, but true to form, woke before the sun, despite her restless night. Inching out of bed slowly, she tried her best not to jostle Quinn. She found her robe, donned it, and padded quietly to the kitchen window. She stood motionless and was once again treated to a glorious sunrise. Peace overtook her as she watched it climb over the horizon.
“Rebel?”
Turning, she looked over to the bed. Quincy, propped up on his elbow, was watching her. She went back to the bed, climbed in, and straddled his hips. She leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss. “Good morning, husband.”
Warm hands caressed her hips and moved around to cup her derriere. “Good morning, wife. How are you feeling?”
“Much better.” She laid her arms on his chest and rested her head on them. “What’s the plan for today?”
“Let me wake up first and I’ll tell you.”
Victoria giggled. “I thought the Butlers rose early.”
“We do, sweetheart. But, apparently the Carringtons have us beat.”
She kissed his chest. “Not really. I always woke up before my family as well.”
Quincy slipped his hand inside her robe, but she pulled his hand away.
“Nope. My turn,” she said, and kissed her way down his body. “Someone’s awake.” Wrapping her mouth around his cock, Quincy grunted in pleasure, and Victoria took him deeper, stroking him faster and faster until his hands slid under her armpits and she was dragged back up his body. With his guidance, she straddled him and he sat up, cupping her bottom as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
Quincy sucked one of her nipples in deep and her head dropped back as she rocked her hips. “Yes,” she whispered as he bit down gently.
He moved his hand between them and fingered her clit as she rode him, her breasts pressed against his chest while he anchored her to him with his free arm. Victoria groaned in frustration when he stalled her movement. “Slowly, sweetheart.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“Because I said so.”
Rather than irritating her, his bossiness excited her so she slowed her pace slightly, letting him work his magic. He fingered her clit and Victoria ground herself into his hand.
“Greedy,” he said with a chuckle.
“You’re so very good at that,” she panted, and continued to ride him. “I’m going to come.”
“Wait.”
She met his eyes and frowned. “I don’t want to.”
Quincy removed his hand and she hissed. He grinned. “You’re going to wait, Rebel.”
“Too late,” she breathed out, climaxing without warning, and shivering as she tightened her hold around his neck.
Quincy lifted her off him. “On your knees.”
Victoria bit her lip in excitement and did as he ordered, quickly rewarded with his cock sliding into her from behind. Gripping her hips, he slammed into her over and over again and she cried out as she came again, falling forward with him as he pulsed inside of her.
When Quincy rolled away from her, Victoria stretched like a very well-fed kitten. “Mmm. Will I get that every morning?”
“If you like,” he said as he kissed her neck.
She rolled onto her back and smiled up at him. “I absolutely like.”
Quincy chuckled. “It’s not a bad way to wake up.”
“No, it’s definitely not.”
Quincy stroked her stomach. “Are you hungry, sweetheart?”
“Starved.” She slid off the mattress. “If you get the fire in the stove going, I’ll make omelets.”
“Omelets?”
“You’ll see. I make a pretty mean one.”
He dressed quickly and grabbed some wood from the back porch while s
he put her robe back on and met him at the stove. “Do we have eggs?” she asked.
Pointing to the supplies Sophie had left, he said, “Everything we have is in the basket.”
Victoria peered inside and found eggs, cheese, butter, and oranges.
“Hm,” she said as she wrinkled her nose.
“No eggs?”
“There are eggs, but not much else. I wanted to wow you with my culinary skills, but we’ll just have to settle for cheese omelets.”
“I can’t wait,” Quincy said, and kissed her.
“Is there a skillet?”
“Yes, Sophie stocked the cabin with a few things. I think a skillet was one of those things.” He found her the pan and a few different utensils, including a wooden spoon and metal spatula.
“God bless Mrs. Ford.” Victoria gently pushed at his chest. “Go and sit, Gus, and I’ll serve you this time.”
QUINCY SAT AT the table and watched as Victoria cracked the eggs into a small bowl and shaved cheese with a knife into the same bowl. As she worked, she hummed quietly and rested one foot on the other. Her stance gave him a nice view of a shapely knee that peeked from the gap in her robe.
She portioned out butter and slid it into the skillet. It sizzled as it hit the heat and she stepped back slightly. She waited until the butter melted and then poured the eggs into the pan. Using the spatula that Sophie had also supplied, she flipped the eggs over then turned to face Quinn. “A plate?”
“Behind you, sweetheart.”
“Thank you.”
Turning back to the stove, she reached to grab the skillet, and it dropped with a thud. “Ouch!”
Quincy rushed to her side and took hold of her wrist. “What were you trying to do?”
“Trying to give myself third degree burns.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “What did you think I was trying to do?”
“Come here,” he said more gently and pulled her to the sink.
There was a water pump next to it and he pulled her hand under the flow, stroking her back as she tried to wash the pain away, tears creeping down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry I spoke harshly,” Quincy whispered. Victoria nodded and sniffed. “I was startled and concerned. The thought of you being hurt is entirely too much for me.” Victoria took several deep breaths while Quincy grabbed a towel and pulled the skillet from the heat. “I’m going to need to get a few supplies from Michael. I’ll ride to the house and return shortly.” She nodded, and Quincy sighed. “Sweetheart?”
She nodded.
“Rebel?”
“Hm?” she whimpered.
“Look at me.” She turned to face him, and he asked, “Are you all right?”
“I’m so sorry I ruined our breakfast,” she said with a sob.
“Victoria, you didn’t ruin anything.”
“I did. I forgot that plastic hasn’t been invented yet. The pans I cook with all have plastic handles, and now I’ve burnt my hand and you have to ride away to save the day and I ruined everything.”
Quincy chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “My beautiful girl.”
“I’ve ruined our honeymoon.”
“From breakfast all the way to the honeymoon, sweetheart,” he retorted. “You apparently wield much power. Is this war your fault as well?”
Without thinking, she playfully smacked his arm and cried out in pain.
“Victoria,” he growled.
“Don’t snarl at me.”
He tipped her chin and stroked the tears from her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Victoria pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Me too.”
“I’m going to ride to the house. I’ll return shortly.”
Victoria glanced up at him. “Maybe I should come with you.”
He shook his head. “If you come with me, the ladies will descend on you and want all of the details you will be entirely too polite to tell them.”
“No I won’t... yes, yes I will. You’re right.”
“I don’t want to get diverted. I’m going to get supplies, so we can stay here.”
* * *
Victoria watched Quincy leave and once he was gone, she sat on the bed and cried. She felt pathetic. Her hand throbbed so she went back to the sink and pumped more water over her wound, the coolness providing relief until she pulled her hand away. She wet the towel and wrapped it around her hand. It was better than nothing, she supposed.
Wandering the cabin floor for a few minutes, trying to think of anything other than the ache in her palm, she decided to try her breakfast. Picking at the omelet, she was pleasantly surprised that it tasted quite good. As she stood at the sink and ate, she heard horses. Her initial reaction was to rush outside to meet Quincy.
“Wait, Vic. Horses. Not horse,” she said to herself. Peeking through the kitchen window, she saw three men riding at break neck speed and heading her way. “Shit!”
She needed to get dressed. If they got to the cabin and she was in her robe, she didn’t know what might happen. She located her discarded underwear and breeches but was unable to find her shirt, so she rushed to see if she could find one of Quincy’s, without success. She could hear the men getting closer, and she pulled her underwear and breeches on. She had a devil of a time hooking her bra. Her hand throbbed, but she needed to get it fastened so sucked it up and pushed through the pain.
She tied the robe around her and secured it with the belt. She didn’t know who these men were, but with the country at war, she refused to take chances. She slipped out the back door of the cabin and whistled. “Please, Rocky. Come.”
“There’s a cabin up ahead,” she heard one of the men shout.
She whistled again and was rewarded with a whinny and the sound of hooves.
“Good boy!” Rocky trotted toward her and nuzzled her hand when he reached her. “Extra sugar for you when we get to Sophie’s. I promise.”
Jumping onto his back, she was thankful he had a bridle on but also wished he was saddled. She guided him away from the cabin before digging her heels in. She nearly cried in relief when Rocky responded immediately. They flew over the countryside, straight for safety.
* * *
Quincy heard the sound of hooves just as he finished tying the medical supplies to his saddle. He was startled when he turned and saw his wife riding hell bent toward him. He rushed toward her and reached for her reins. “Victoria?”
She cried in pain and grasped her hand in the wet towel as Quincy pulled her from Rocky’s back. Quincy wrapped his arms around her. “Sweetheart, what’s amiss?”
“Men. Three of them.”
“Excuse me?”
She shook her hand out. “There were three men riding toward the cabin. I didn’t know if they were friendly, so rather than wait to find out, I came here.”
“Let’s get you inside.” Lifting her into his arms, he started toward the house.
“My hand is burnt, honey, not my legs.”
“Irrelevant.” Quincy carried her into the parlor.
Sophie sat on the floor, playing with Junior and stood as soon as she saw them. She scooped the baby up into her arms. “What’s wrong?”
“There were men riding toward the cabin,” Victoria answered.
Sophie shifted Junior to her hip. “Get Clayton and Chris, Quinn. You should ride out to investigate. Jamie should go too.”
“I need to take care of Victoria first,” he said, and set her on the couch.
Victoria whimpered as he removed the wet towel and Sophie let out a quiet gasp at the raised burn. “Victoria. That looks painful. What happened?”
“I was trying to make an omelet and grabbed the handle of the skillet.”
Sophie chewed on her lower lip. “No plastic.”
Victoria wrinkled her nose. “No plastic.”
“Oh, sweetie, you poor thing. I’ll get Michael.” Sophie went to find Michael while Quinn sat down on the couch next to her.
“Why are you scowling, Gus?” He attempted a smile and it made Victoria
laugh. “Good effort, honey.”
“I’m sorry. I just have a difficult time seeing you in pain.” Sweeping her hair from her forehead, he kissed her gently.
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
“I’ll try to do so with less of a growl in the future.”
“I’d appreciate that,” she said with a giggle as she leaned against him.
“How did you get away from the cabin so quickly?” Quincy asked.
“I whistled for Rocky and he came.”
“He did?”
She nodded. “While you were away, Sophie and I worked with him. He follows me the same way Samson follows Sophie. He whinnies for me and now I don’t have to use a lead on him.”
“I can’t wait to see that.”
“I’ll show you later. Have I thanked you for him today?”
Quincy chuckled. “I think you just did.”
“I heard there was a lady with a burn,” Michael said from the doorway.
“That would be me,” Victoria said, and raised her injured hand.
Michael knelt beside the couch and took Victoria’s hand in his. “That looks painful.”
“Uh, yeah, it is.” Michael opened a jar. Victoria wrinkled her nose, turning her head away. “Ugh. That stinks.”
“I agree, but it’ll help,” he said with a gentle smile.
He lathered the cream liberally then wrapped her hand in a bandage, and Victoria took a deep breath. “Much better. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Michael left the room and Quincy rose to his feet.
After several minutes, Victoria smiled. “You can stop pacing now, Gus, I’m fine.”
He nodded but continued to pace.
“Honey, it really is better. The pain is almost gone.”
“Almost?”
“Okay, more than almost.” She grinned. “What are you going to do when I’m in labor?”
He paused. “You’ve changed your mind about having children?”
She nodded. “Yes, I have.”
“Why is that?”
“Because the thought of the world without a miniature you is just wrong.” Victoria leaned forward. “Will you be this bad when the pain comes?”
“More than likely.”
She stood and weaved her hands around his neck. “Thank you for the forewarning. Now, I’m going to change and check on Hannah. You need to find out who those men are. Sophie and Emma are here and will take good care of me.” She kissed him. “Go save the day.”
The Rebel Bride (Civil War Brides Series, #5) Page 22