He gazed up at the dark sky, breathed in the clean night scent of the prairie, and felt an evening chill. His hair was still wet. Autumn would soon be here.
Burying his hands deep in his pockets, he wanted to kick himself for saying what he’d said.
He stood outside a while longer, kicking at the dirt, then walked to the dugout. If he could find the courage, he would ask Sarah if she would let him sleep indoors tonight.
Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, pinning her hair up after donning dry underclothes and a fresh bodice. The golden lantern light flickered, but the dugout seemed empty and cold. She wondered miserably if Briggs would ever forgive her. Then the door creaked open and he walked in. She stared up at him in dismay. She had expected him to stay in the barn tonight.
“Hello,” he said, hesitating on the top step.
“Come in.” She hadn’t realized how tense she was until that instant when her shoulders loosened and she exhaled lightly. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Really? After what I said at the creek, I hadn’t figured on that.”
She gave him a melancholy smile. “I doubt it’s very comfortable out in the barn.”
He slowly descended the steps. “It’s not.”
“Would you like something to eat? I could get a—”
He stopped her with a raised hand. “Please. Don’t bother. I’d rather talk.”
Sarah’s nerves wrenched beneath her skin. Talk. He wanted to talk. About what?
“All right,” she replied, trying to hide any apprehension.
He sauntered toward her. “You had every right to be angry earlier. What I said was wrong.”
Sarah blinked in surprise. “Please, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do. You didn’t deserve that. I just said it to hurt you.”
A part of her was thankful they were finally communicating, but another more fragile part of her ached as she took in his full meaning. He was still angry with her and he wanted to cause her pain.
Briggs removed his coat and draped it on the chair. His loose shirt clung to his still damp skin.
“I just want to be a good wife,” Sarah told him, her voice shaky. “Your wife. I wish I could rewrite everything that happened to me before I met you.”
“I guess I’ve made you feel that way, haven’t I? Ashamed, I mean.” Briggs took her hand, led her to the bed, and they both sat down. “I want all that to stop. You can’t rewrite the past and neither can I.” He looked down at their joined hands and ran his thumb over hers for a moment, as if thinking about something. Sarah’s whole body tingled at the sensation.
Without looking up, he added, “Even if I could rewrite the past, I wouldn’t. It might change what I’ve got now.”
Sarah stared wordlessly at him, barely able to comprehend all this.
“I know we had a rough start, Sarah, but we need to put it behind us.”
She lowered her lashes, unable to look at him without crying. How she’d dreamed of hearing those words. “I wish you’d found me sooner.”
He turned her small hand over in his strong one, lacing his fingers through hers. “It’s true, neither of us got what we expected. I know you wanted someone more…polished. I saw it in your eyes the first time you looked at me.”
Sarah wet her lips, surprised and saddened that he’d noticed.
“And I wanted someone plain,” he added. “Instead, I got you.”
“You also wanted someone who wouldn’t lie to you.”
He paused, then nodded. “That’s over and done with. We have a life here now. We need each other. I don’t know what I would have done the past few days without you. You may not have been what I expected in some ways, but in other ways, you’ve been the best wife I could have imagined.”
Feeling her eyes flood with joy and fear at the same time, Sarah touched his cheek. There was still so much he did not know about her.
Briggs kissed her hand—a kiss filled with affection and respect. Respect.
His eyes bathed her in admiration. His hands moved sensually along the inside of her forearm. “You’ve been trying to be a wife to me,” he said, his voice deep and smooth like velvet. “But I haven’t been a husband to you. Tonight, let me be your husband. Let me make love to you.” He slowly leaned in, and she could smell the magnificent outdoors in his hair as his lips brushed gracefully over hers. It seemed her dreams, one by one, were all coming true. All that she had ever wanted…
His kiss deepened and he laid her onto the bed. Butterflies danced within her as his tongue explored her mouth. Gently, he rolled on top of her and their bodies melted together. With moist lips, he seared a path down her neck, over her shoulders and across to the top button on her bodice.
“Can I take this off you?” he asked, his eyes burning with desire.
She tried to control the pulsing knot in her stomach, but gave up the effort, nodding her permission. Briggs unbuttoned her bodice and pressed it open to reveal her corset and chemise. He dropped tender kisses along the line of her collarbone. His breath was warm and moist against her chest, and her blood blazed with fire.
“There are so many ways I want to touch you,” he whispered. “Things are going to be different from now on, I promise you that.”
Sarah inhaled sharply.
Reclaiming her lips, he smothered all talk. His hand slid down to her thigh and rested there a moment. “Can you be patient, love, while I light a fire?”
Nodding, she relaxed while he rose from the bed and walked to the stove. She watched his broad back as he crouched on one knee, built the fire, then struck a match. The room took on an exquisite golden glow that seemed to warm all her senses.
Briggs rose to face her and began to unbutton his shirt. “I don’t want you to be cold.”
Sarah leaned up on both elbows while Briggs stripped off his shirt and draped it over the chair, revealing his muscled, sun-bronzed chest and powerful arms. He sat on the edge of the bed and slid her bodice off her shoulders, then proceeded to remove her corset, leaving her in only her chemise and skirts.
“Why don’t you roll onto your front?” he suggested. “Let me rub your back.”
When warm fingers touched the small of her back, she quivered. “Relax,” Briggs whispered, his hands rubbing the muscles on either side of her spine. “You worked hard the last few days.” With smooth strokes, he massaged her back and shoulders. She had not realized until now how sore and tired her body was. She closed her eyes and sighed.
Time slowed to a surreal pace as his graceful hands worked over her body. Minutes passed, or maybe hours, for all she knew. Then he pulled the hairpins from her hair and moved the long locks aside and kissed the back of her neck.
With an exploding affection she could barely contain, Sarah turned over to face him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He lowered his weight fully upon her, and she reveled wondrously beneath him. She hadn’t known it could be like this, that she could want so badly to be held.
“Wrap your legs around me, Sarah.” His voice shook with need.
Trembling, she clung to him as he explored her body with his tender hands. “Please,” she whispered, not even sure what she was pleading for as the word escaped her.
He rose and stood before her. Gazing up at him in bewildered awe, Sarah heard his clothing drop to the floor, then he came down upon her. His lips were moist as he kissed her and her heart raced with hungry expectation as he shifted. He removed the rest of her clothing, then slowly, gently, he entered her.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, and they moved together in the dim light until, a few moments later, the sensations surged to a peak and Sarah’s body tensed with unexpected spasms.
Briggs squeezed her and kissed her, then laid his palms on either side of her shoulders and rose up to look at her. His golden hair fell forward, and Sarah reached out to push it back, then met his tender gaze.
Soon, he bowed his head and she lost sight of his eyes behind his ha
ir and he shuddered. A few seconds later, he relaxed upon her.
“I feel so close to you,” he whispered in her ear. “On our wedding night, I didn’t know you.” He looked into her eyes. “But now I do, and everything will be different. I promise I’ll be a better husband.”
But as his lips came down to brush over hers, Sarah realized miserably that he still did not know her. Not at all. If he did, the feeling that had grown between them would surely die.
Her heart wrenched. She could not let that happen. Even if it meant lying to him for the rest of their lives.
His mouth closed over hers, and she decided with staunch determination that he would never know the truth. She would carry it to her grave. Garrison had been more than her lover and she knew that if he ever found out she’d told someone—much less married someone—he would come after her. Both she and Briggs would be in terrible danger. The whole wicked truth would come out and the world would know that she had more than one husband.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, Sarah awakened beneath Briggs’s buckskin coat, the fringe tickling her nose. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned, noticing that her long skirt was draped over her legs like a blanket. Sometime during the night, Briggs must have covered her. His kindness caused her a twinge of guilt.
She remembered the day she answered his advertisement for a wife and how she had not revealed her true situation. She had not wanted to admit to herself back then that she was being dishonest. Her marriage to Garrison was irrelevant, she’d told herself. Legally, it did not exist.
But she doubted Briggs would be much interested in the legalities. He’d only care that she had kept something else from him.
She covered her face with a hand and squeezed her eyes shut. She had not known Garrison at all when she’d agreed to marry him. She had been so naive, so lonely after her parents died, she’d only wanted to be loved by someone again. If only she’d been stronger, like she was now.
She hoped she was strong enough to live with this dishonesty.
Sarah buried her face in the pillow and smothered a sob. She hadn’t counted on falling in love with a man who valued honesty and trust more than her pretty face. She would never forgive herself for lying to him, but she’d had no choice from the beginning. Garrison was a dangerous man. There’s no telling what he might do if he found out someone knew the truth. She couldn’t put Briggs’s life at risk. If anything ever happened to him…
Somehow, she would have to find the strength to continue this lie, no matter how much it killed her inside.
A little later, Sarah rose from bed, pulled on her clothes and lit the stove. As soon as the fire crackled to life, she climbed the steps to go outside and fill the coffeepot with water. A warm shiver passed through her. Despite everything, she could still feel the pleasure of being held last night, of being kissed. As she dipped the pot into the barrel, the cool liquid touched her fingers and she was acutely aware of physical sensations—the bright sunlight on her cheeks, the smell of cows and horses and pigs, the cold wetness on her hand.
Life was full of miracles, she realized, admiring the sunrise as she returned to the house. Even for those who did not deserve them.
She was just preparing to go out and milk the cow when Briggs walked in carrying a bucket. Her heart quickened at the sight of him—hair disheveled around his shoulders, face shadowed with whiskers, and a smile moving across his seductive lips. She couldn’t prevent an awakening arousal when she remembered how those lips had kissed her the night before….
“Good morning,” he said, setting the bucket down, the rope handle silently dropping. With two long strides, he backed Sarah up against the sod wall and swept her weightlessly into his arms. His mouth covered hers and she responded with parted lips, sliding her hands up under the thick hair at his nape and into a delectable warmth there. His kiss fired through her veins and thawed the morning chill still lingering in her bones. By the time he came away, she felt over-heated.
“Good morning,” she sputtered, trying to keep her balance.
“I brought you some milk.” He walked to the bed and examined it. “You know, I think what’s left of the cornstalks would be perfect for a bigger mattress.”
The idea of a bigger bed breathed new life into Sarah’s tired spirit, knowing that Briggs intended to share the bed with her from now on. Dreams could come true, she thought, but realized with some disappointment that she did not feel completely happy. Perhaps someday she would be able to forget.
They moved to the table and Briggs sat down. “Corn bread?” she asked, snatching her thoughts back to where they were supposed to be. “Or I could make cornmeal griddle cakes if you feel like waiting for me to gather some eggs.”
“That sounds good.”
She dug into the bag of meal but turned when Shadow barked outside. She looked questioningly at Briggs, who rose and climbed the steps.
“Howard!” he called from the door. “Good to see you!”
Thrilled to be receiving her first guest since she’d arrived, Sarah wiped her hands on a towel and hurried up the steps to greet their neighbor. Howard sat high up in the wagon, rubbing his dark beard. Although happy to see him, Sarah felt mildly disappointed that Martha hadn’t accompanied him.
“Hello, Sarah,” he said, touching the brim of his straw hat. He set the brake and hopped down, giving Shadow a quick pat on the head.
“Have you had breakfast, Howard? I’m just about to cook up some griddle cakes if you’d like some.”
“Appreciate the offer but I just finished a big meal and can’t stay long. I’m on my way into Dodge.” He turned to Briggs. “I see you didn’t escape the swarm.”
Sarah stood and listened for a moment, but retreated into the house when the men decided to walk into the field to survey the damage. She worried about Martha, unable to imagine how it would feel to be a mother without food for her children. Sarah decided to go and visit as soon as she could.
About a half hour later, Briggs came into the house and walked to the far corner. “Howard’s heading into town now,” he said, pulling the bed out from the wall.
“What are you doing?” Sarah asked.
He crouched down and lifted a small tin box out of a hole in the floor. “I’m giving him some money to buy seed for fall wheat.”
Sarah watched him riffle through the box, then set it back in the hole and pull the bed over it.
“I didn’t think we had any money,” she mentioned.
He stopped and looked at her. “We don’t. I mean, this is it and it’s going with Howard.” Briggs approached her. “What’s wrong?”
She dropped her gaze to the floor. “Nothing. I just hope everything will be okay. What if something happens to this crop, too?”
“Please, don’t worry.”
“But if something does happen, what will we do?”
He touched her arm. “We’ll get by.”
“But I don’t want you to go away.”
He touched her shoulder. “I won’t go. I promise. Everything will be all right.”
Despite her fears, he was her husband and she had to trust him. As he walked out the door to give Howard their only savings—at least the only savings she knew about—she wondered with an aching heart how much money they would get for her mother’s fine pearls.
The match whisked and flared between Briggs’s finger and thumb. Slowly, watching it burn, he touched it to the chips in the stove. Within seconds, the fire caught and he was closing the door.
He turned to look at Sarah lying back on the bed, the lantern light reflecting off the buttons on her calico dress.
“My God, you are beautiful,” he whispered, wondering how he could ever have wished Sarah to be plain. She was perfect just the way she was—her black hair splayed out on the pillow, her full lips moist and parted, her sweet cheeks flushed. He sauntered toward her, grinning, a ripple of anticipation moving through him. He would undress her again, piece by piece, and enjoy every m
inute of it.
He would enjoy every minute of the rest of their lives.
Good God, did he care for her that much?
He stopped and paused, pulse thrumming in his head. He wasn’t ready to feel so much, so fast.
“Is something wrong?” Sarah asked, leaning up on one elbow.
Startled, he buried his fears and walked to the bed. “No, nothing at all. I just wanted to look at you. Why don’t I remove your boots?” He sat at the foot of the bed and untied the laces, then pulled each one off and set it lightly on the floor. “And your stockings…”
In a few seconds, he was rubbing her calves and massaging her delicate feet.
“That feels nice,” she said, leaning up on her elbows again. “But why are you being so good to me?”
He grinned. “What makes you think I’m not enjoying this?” Pressing his thumbs into the silky arch of her foot, he traced tiny circles. “Pleasure for you is pleasure for me.”
She tilted her pretty head to the side, considering his answer. “I didn’t think it was like that for a man.”
“Well, maybe you learned from the wrong man.”
Sarah paled and he froze, realizing he’d once again said the wrong thing. Several moments of torturous silence filtered between them.
“I suppose I did,” Sarah finally said, lying back. “But I believe the right man is going to teach me what I missed.”
Her words reassured him, and he felt a strange, soft comfort. They’d come a long way since their first day on the prairie. There was forgiveness between them now. He set his hands back to work, massaging her beautiful feet.
Later that night as they were making love, their bodies moving together in exquisite harmony, Briggs felt a tension mount as his body arched in a burning release. He was loving her so much more than he’d ever intended. He felt a sudden urge to resist it, to fight it. How long would it be before he gave in to it and let go of his fears?
Julianne MacLean Page 12