Looking for Love

by Barbara Goss

  “Come on, Fiona. I’m putting you to bed.” She practically dragged her to the bed, tucked her in, got her a glass of cool water, and then touched her forehead. “You aren’t running a fever, thank the Lord.”

  “I’ll be all right. I think it was just the bumpy ride on the buckboard,” Fiona said. “I’ll just lie here for a while and then I’ll come down and help you with supper.”

  When Addie had left to go back downstairs, Fiona slipped off the bed, onto her knees, and prayed. She laid her head on the bed as she prayed and didn’t hear the soft knock at her door. Fiona didn’t realize anyone had entered her room until she heard Martin’s voice. “What’s wrong, Fiona?” he asked sympathetically.

  Tears fell from Fiona’s eyes. “The sheriff is looking for a woman who murdered someone back east. I’m scared, Martin.”

  “I heard that rumor, too, so I stopped at the sheriff’s office the other day and he showed me the wire. The woman they're looking for is in her forties, and her name is Gertrude someone or other.”

  Fiona’s head sprang up. “Really?” She wiped her tears and said, “Thank you, Lord.”

  Martin sat down on the bed. “You really need to tell Sam about this. I think you both should go back to Boston and straighten this out. You can’t live like this. It’s making you ill.”

  Still on her knees at Martin’s feet, Fiona nodded. “I want to, but I’m so afraid.”

  Martin stood and helped Fiona to her feet. He hugged her lightly and patted her back. “You need to do something, dear sister. You can’t continue like this.”

  “Excuse me?” Sam said, barging into the room. “What’s going on?”

  Chapter 10

  “Sam!” Fiona cried. Now, what in the world would she say to explain this?

  Martin was first to speak. “I came to check on Fiona, and I found her extremely upset, so I was comforting her—like a sister, of course. You can unclench your fists, Sam—I'm not trying to manhandle your wife.”

  Sam seemed to relax a bit. “I came up to see how you were feeling, Fiona.” He gave Martin a frown. “If you’ll excuse us, Martin, I’d like to speak with my wife.”

  Martin left the room quietly, closing the door behind him.

  “What’s going on?” Sam asked gently. “Is there something between you and Martin that I don’t know about?”

  “Of course not. He was acting like a brother, is all,” she said. “I was crying a bit because I wasn’t feeling well. I really wanted to make you supper again tonight, and I missed the chance. I’m also nervous about moving…and…and…” Fiona burst into tears again.

  This time it was Sam who comforted her. He took her into his arms, but not in a brotherly fashion, he held her close, and kissed the top of her head.

  “It'll be fine, sweetheart,” he said as he rubbed her back.

  Fiona thought that if she were a cat, she’d be purring. It felt wonderful to be in Sam’s arms. If only she were there for a reason other than to be comforted. If it turned out to be a romantic gesture, she knew she wouldn't back away this time. He was her husband, and since they’d married, she’d grown to know him—really know him, and thought she might be fonder of him now than she was at first.

  She wanted him to hold her that way forever, so when she felt him start to pull away, she put her arms around his waist. He took the hint and held her even tighter, pulling back ever so slightly, just enough for him to bend down and kiss her lips. She returned the kiss, and Sam groaned and repositioned his lips. He soon increased the passion in the kiss to meet hers. The kiss had affected her so strongly, her knees felt suddenly weak, and she began to lean heavily on him or fall to the floor.

  Sam broke the kiss, scooped her up into his arms, and set her gently on the bed. He kissed her forehead and said, “Please, feel better, Fiona. I hate to see you ill.” He stroked her cheek and then moved toward the door. “I’ll come back and check on you after I run to our cabin and install the doorknobs. Tomorrow night we’ll be sleeping in our own home.” He closed the door softly behind him.

  Had he actually called her sweetheart? Fiona replayed the kiss over and over and knew she felt something for Sam, for sure, but she wasn’t exactly clear on what that emotion was.

  True to his word, Sam came to her room to check on her just before dinner.

  “Feeling better, Mrs. Jordan?” he asked cheerfully.

  “Much better,” she said, smiling back at him. She wondered what had put him in such a good mood. She hadn't seen him in such a carefree state since she’d arrived. Could they be happy for the same reason? She was married to the most remarkable man.

  “May I escort you to the dinner table?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  She let him help her to her feet and escort her down the stairs and to the kitchen table.

  Addie sniffed as she put the food on the table. Fiona looked up and saw tears running down her cheeks.

  “What’s wrong, Mother?” Fiona asked with concern.

  Addie took out her handkerchief and used it to wipe her eyes. “This is the last dinner here with you and Sam. I’m really going to miss you both.”

  Sam put his arm around Addie. “Mother, we’re only going a few acres away. I’m sure we’ll be coming over to have dinner with you often.”

  “And you can come to our house for dinner anytime,” Fiona added. “Don’t worry, you’ll still be an important part of our lives.”

  Addie sniffled, but she smiled. “Thank you. God bless you both.” She pocketed her handkerchief. “I do want you two to have privacy. After all, I’m counting on a lot of grandchildren,” she continued in a lower tone, “and I don’t think Martin will be supplying me with any in the near future.”

  Just then, Martin walked into the room. “Did I hear my name mentioned?”

  “I was just saying how I wondered where you were,” Addie said. “Everyone, let's sit down before this chicken gets cold.”

  During the meal, Fiona felt Sam’s eyes on her. When she looked up, he was smiling at her, his eyes sparkling. Could he be as smitten as she? She also noticed Martin watching them with a half-smile on his face, as if he knew they were growing fond of each other and it pleased him.

  Pondering his kiss with Fiona, Sam had been afraid he’d make a false move, since he was so used to moving his hands while he kissed and bad habits die-hard. He had to keep reminding himself it was Fiona he was kissing, his pure, sweet wife, and he needed to behave with her or he was liable to scare her into shooing him from the room. He had to go slowly or he’d never get the marriage consummated. He could tell from her kiss she had fire—lots of it—and it made him happy to know that once they'd begun the marriage for real, it would be a passionate one.

  He definitely felt something for Fiona—could it be the beginning of love? He wasn’t sure, but when he’d seen her in Martin’s arms, he’d been furious beyond jealousy. He doubted his blood pressure had ever risen as high in such a short span of time.

  Sam hadn't even read Abby's note throwing it into the bin behind the house where they burned their garbage. After having been with Fiona, sharing their nightly talks, and now sharing a passionate kiss, the desire to ever see Abby again had completely vanished. He just wished she’d take the hint and stop writing him letters so he wouldn't have to rush into town in order to pick the mail up before anyone else.

  Early the next morning, Addie helped Fiona pack her belongings for the move while Sam packed his things. In the process, Addie dropped a stocking and bent to retrieve it. When she looked under the bed, she gasped.

  “What's that cot doing under the bed?” she demanded to no one in particular.

  Fiona and Sam exchanged looks. Sam spoke first. “I slept on it when Fiona wasn’t feeling well so I wouldn’t disturb her.”

  “Ah,” Addie said. “That was thoughtful of you, Sam. I’ll be sure to get it back to the attic.” She looked at Fiona. “You’ve lucked out getting this one. He always has been considerate.”

  “I think you dese
rve the credit for that, Mother. You’ve reared two fine, young men,” Fiona said, “and all by yourself, too.”

  “It wasn’t easy. I had to use the broom on their backsides more than a few times,” she said nostalgically. “Where has the time gone? It seems like only yesterday they were sitting at the kitchen table with jelly on their faces.”

  Fiona gasped and asked, “You hit them with a broom?”

  “Don’t worry, Fiona. She didn’t injure any vital parts. She seldom connected the broom with our backsides, as we were usually running from her at the time,” Sam said. “Luckily, we were able to run faster than she could.”

  Fiona laughed. Sam loved the sound of her laughter. He hoped he’d hear it often.

  Fiona and Sam waved to Martin and Addie from his buggy.

  Addie yelled to Sam, “Don’t forget to carry her over the threshold.”

  Sam nodded, waved again, and whipped the horse. They were almost home.

  Fiona was caught off-guard when, on the doorstep, Sam picked her up, unlocked the door, and carried her inside. “Welcome home, Mrs. Jordan.” He kissed her lightly.

  Together, they walked through the house. Sam loved the look of awe on Fiona’s face. She hadn’t seen the house with the floors finished and the furniture and appliances in place.

  “Oh, Sam!” she exclaimed. “It’s all so wonderful. Pinch me quick because I must be dreaming. From an orphanage to this beautiful home…it’s more than I deserve.” She burst into tears.

  Sam was sorry to see her cry, but it gave him an excuse to hold her in his arms again. He hadn’t realized the house would have such an effect on her. “You deserve it," he said, "and so do I. It’s a good start to a new life, Fiona.”

  He pressed her closer to him. “Maybe I should have brought you here before today, but I wanted to surprise you. I hope it isn’t all too much for you.”

  Fiona wiped at her tears with a handkerchief. “I’ve never had anything this nice and it's just got to me, is all.”

  Sam smiled and kissed the top of her head. He felt proud that he was able to make his wife so happy she cried. He was overwhelmed with fondness for Fiona.

  “Shall we check out the kitchen, or will you start to bawl again?” Sam teased.

  Sure enough, the minute she saw her kitchen, she began to cry again. Once again, Sam took advantage of the situation and hugged her, concentrating on not letting his hands wander. All he wanted to do was to give her comfort, and as hard as that had become, he was sure he could do it.

  “I’m sorry for being so emotional,” Fiona said, trying to control her sobs. “It just all too much at once.” She walked over and touched the brand new stove with loving care.

  “I’m afraid to take you upstairs," Sam said. "Are you sure you’ll be all right?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “I’ll try,” she said.

  Once upstairs, Fiona wandered around touching things and sighing.

  “The wallpaper you chose is stunning,” Sam said. “It gives the master bedroom an aura of romance.” He looked at her and she blushed and hurried off to view the other bedroom.

  It was a smaller room, and Fiona had chosen a blue wallpaper with a vine pattern throughout. He’d put a shade on the window and added a bed, nightstand, and small dresser.

  “The windows will need curtains or drapes, but I’m guessing that’s your area of expertise. The shades will do for now, though,” Sam said.

  Sam pointed to the far end of the hall. “We can add an addition over there if we need it later. Some people have indoor washrooms. We’ll have one someday, maybe in the new addition. Right now, they’re very expensive to install.

  “Thank you,” Fiona said.

  “For what?”

  “For all this. I never dreamed…” she choked up again.

  “Are you hungry? Mother sent over a pot of stew and some biscuits. Tomorrow, you can break the kitchen in with some meals,” Sam said as he led her down the stairs. “Which reminds me, I’ll show you the root cellar I built so you'll know where to find the food. I’ll also show you how to light the stove and prime the water pump.”

  After they’d eaten and Fiona had started to clear the table, Sam said, “I’m going out to check on the horses and cattle. I want to see how they’ve acclimated to the new pastures.”

  Fiona washed up the few dirty dishes. How she loved the indoor water pump over the sink. She wiped her new stove clean and looked around her kitchen once more; it was beautiful. She noted that every window was in need of curtains or drapes. She’d have to see about getting the material to make them.

  She brewed tea, knowing that Sam would want a cup when he returned. While she waited, she sat at the new kitchen table and wondered how this might all end up. Would she and Sam fall in love? They already had a physical attraction. Were children in their future? Would there be toddlers hanging from her apron strings in this kitchen one day?

  From the closeness they’d shared during their many hugs, she knew Sam was ready to consummate their union, but was she? She thought she might be, but she wasn’t sure. Once they'd consummated the relationship, there’d be no turning back. Had Martin been right? Should she tell Sam about her past? What if she didn’t tell him and he was horrified by her actions after they'd consummated?

  She would like nothing better than to cuddle up with Sam in the new bed in the master bedroom. She’d miss their nightly talks, too. How long would it take before they were really married, and who would be the one to make the first move?

  As she and Sam took their tea in the sitting room, she gazed around the room. “We need something to hang on the walls, Sam," she told him. "It'll make the room homey and warm.”

  “A painting?” he asked.

  “I think a painting would be just right for that wall.” She pointed to the wall over the sofa. “How about a mirror for over the fireplace and an oil lamp on each side?”

  “I like it. As soon as I build up our savings, we’ll get all of those things,” he told her. “Tomorrow, I need to assess the cattle and decide which to breed and which to sell to the butcher. We don’t have enough yet to do a cattle drive to the nearest cattle town.”

  “I thought we had hundreds,” she said.

  “Yes, but if we sell them all, we won’t have any left to breed, or for meat,” he explained. “To transport cattle all the way to a cow town, you need a large number in order to make it worthwhile. It’s a long hard trip.”

  Fiona nodded. “We’ll need firewood, too.”

  “We have woods at the back of our property, so we’ll have plenty,” he said. “In fact, tomorrow I’ll take you on a tour of our property. The first thing we'll need is a barn. My poor horse isn’t happy without having a stall of his own. He’s tied to a tree beside the buggy and wagon in the meantime.”

  “Will you build it yourself?” she asked.

  “No. Martin will help me, and the men from the church are always willing to participate in a barn-raising, especially if we feed them.”

  “I have so much to learn yet,” Fiona said.

  Sam put his empty cup down with a clink. “Well, I’m ready for bed. How about you?”

  “Yes. I guess I can wash these cups in the morning.”

  She watched Sam put out all the oil lamps, and they climbed the stairs together. In the hall, Sam hesitated, turned to her, and said, “I’m going to miss our nightly chats.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I know we can’t yet sleep together, but since we are married and fond of each other, I think a goodnight kiss would be just the thing to start our marriage off on the right track, don’t you?” Sam asked.

  Fiona liked the idea. “A nightly ritual? I’d like that.”

  Sam held out his arms and Fiona moved into them. He hugged her and kissed her on the lips, lightly, at first and then slower until the kiss heated and they were both gasping.

  Chapter 11

  Fiona knew that physically, they were ready to consummate, but she wasn’t yet ready emotionall
y, so she finally broke off the kiss. “Goodnight, Sam,” she whispered, and went into her own bedroom.

  She lay in bed, missing their nightly talks. His kisses left her wanting even more. What was she afraid of? She was married and sleeping together wouldn’t be a sin. What was holding her back? Why was she lying alone in her room with her husband in his room when both of them wanted to be together? She sighed.

  She couldn’t consummate the marriage until she'd told him about her past. Martin was right: she should have told him before they were married.

  Fiona pushed her quilt back, got out of bed, and reached for her robe. She’d tell him now, after she’d boosted her courage. It was either that or sleep forever apart.

  She knocked lightly on Sam’s bedroom door but it hadn't been tightly closed and opened wider at her touch. Had he left it open for a reason?

  “Fiona?” he whispered from somewhere in the dark.

  “Yes. I need to talk to you.”

  “Should I light the lamp?”

  “No.” Fiona felt around in the dark until she found his bed. She touched his chest. “Oh, there you are,” she said.

  “There aren’t any chairs in here. I’ll move over and you can sit on the edge of the bed and then we can talk like we always do. I was just lying here thinking about how much I miss it,” Sam said.

  He moved over and she sat down on the bed. Where should she start?

  Sam spoke first. “I’m glad you love our home. It thrilled me to see you so happy today.”

  Fiona was still trying to think of how to begin telling him about Mr. Littlefield. While her mind flew in all directions trying to figure it out, he reached over and touched her arm. “I love just knowing you’re close by, Mrs. Jordan,” he said.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I care for you,” he said softly. He moved his hand to her face and stroked her cheeks and neck. “A lot.”