Summer Breeze

by Catherine Anderson

  Joseph braced his hands against the wall and stared down at his Justins. He wouldn’t trade them for a dozen new pairs and dreaded when they wore out. “So that’s how I’ll feel about Rachel in five years—like she’s my favorite pair of boots?”

  Ace snorted with laughter. “Not exactly, no. But something like that. I’ve never been good with words, Joseph. You know that. All I’m saying is, the new wears off, and the feelings change. For instance—have you ever seen a really, really pregnant woman who walks with her back arched and her feet spread wide to keep her balance, and thought she was the most beautiful female you’d ever seen in your life?”

  Joseph shook his head. “No, I can’t rightly say I have. Pregnant women mostly just look swollen up and awkward, if you ask me.”

  “Same here. I’d never seen a pregnant woman I thought was beautiful until Caitlin was big and pregnant with Little Ace. And then, let me tell you, my eyes were opened. In my opinion, she’ll never be more beautiful than she was during the last weeks of her pregnancy. I think she’s gorgeous now. Don’t get me wrong. But she was flat beautiful then. Sometimes I’d look at her and get tears in my eyes.”

  Joseph saw a suspicious gleam of wetness in his brother’s eyes even now. Old boots and pregnant women? A part of Joseph just didn’t get it, but another part of him—the part in his heart that hurt at the thought of leaving Rachel—sort of understood.

  “I don’t want to hurt her,” he told his brother. “You know what I’m saying? Before I say a word to her, I need to be absolutely sure that my feelings for her are real and lasting.”

  “You’re a good man, Joseph. And knowing you as I do, it’s my guess that you wouldn’t be wrestling with all these questions if you didn’t love the girl. That’s part of it, you know, never wanting to cause her pain. When that becomes one of your biggest concerns, you’re usually already gone coon.”

  Later that same afternoon when Joseph was riding in from a tour of Rachel’s land, he encountered David on the road that led up to the house.

  “Hey, big brother,” David called. “What’re you doing out here? I thought you had to stay close to Rachel.”

  “Normally do.” Joseph drew Obie into a trot to ride apace with David’s gelding. “Ace is spelling me for a bit. I went over to check on things at home. Then I rode the fence line over here and checked on the cattle. Darby runs fewer than twenty head, but they still require a look-see every now and again.”

  “How’s Darby doing?” David asked.

  “Chomping at the bit to be out of bed. He’s looking real good. What brings you out this way in the middle of the afternoon?”

  “The circuit judge came to town. He slapped Jeb Pritchard with a steep fine for shooting at us that afternoon when we rode over to his place, threatened him with a six-month jail sentence if he ever does it again, and turned the old bastard loose.”

  Joseph wasn’t happy to hear that. “Damn it. After all we did to put the son of a bitch behind bars?”

  “I hear you,” David commiserated, “but once the judge rules on a case, it’s out of my hands. I figured you needed to know.” He gazed out across the pastureland. “Best be keeping a sharp eye out, just in case. If he’s our man, he’s fit to be tied right now and spoiling for trouble.”

  Joseph shook his head. “That’s the flaw in circuit judges. They have no idea what’s happening locally and make stupid rulings.”

  “Well, there’s one bright note,” David replied. “My jail smells a hell of a lot better with that old coot out of there.” As they approached the house, David whistled. “You’ve flat been working, son. Looks to me like you’ve got that courtyard almost done. Before you know it, Darby will be back to full steam and you’ll be free to make tracks.”

  “In another week, I reckon.”

  The knowledge that his time with Rachel was running out made Joseph feel as if a steel band were being tightened around his chest.

  The last day of the courtyard wall construction, half the town showed up to add the finishing touches. Joseph had told Bubba about Rachel’s list of courtyard appointments, and Bubba had passed the information on to Sue Ellen, who evidently had a habit of flapping her jaw almost as hard as she worked. Everybody and his brother seemed to know exactly what Rachel wanted, and they were hell-bent to see that she got most of it.

  Bubba brought the ironwork. Sue Ellen came with a second wagon filled with cuttings from her garden. Ron and Diana Christian showed up with a beautiful bench that the sawyer had crafted after hours. In one of his rare moments of defiance against his skinflint wife, Harrison Gilpatrick arrived bearing rosebushes that he had already ordered from Sacramento for the spring planting season. Several ranchers and their wives brought yet more plants that they’d taken from their own yards. Jesse Chandler, the chimney sweep, and his wife, Dorothy, who ran the local candle shop, brought three birdhouses that he had made and she had decorated. Doc Halloway contributed a birdbath that he claimed he never used.

  Joseph was overwhelmed by his neighbors’ generosity. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  The responses Joseph received all rang with one common note, a generosity of spirit that nearly brought tears to his eyes: “It’s nothing.” “It’s our pleasure.” “We just pray she can come out and enjoy the sunlight.” He only wished Rachel could find the courage to open her door and personally thank everyone.

  But that was wishing for too much. She had already come a long way in a very short time. Having so many people in her dooryard was probably terrifying for her. Fortunately, no one had arrived with any expectations. They’d come to work, and work they did. After the ironwork was laid out over the enclosure, everyone helped lay the final tier of rock to anchor the bars. The bolts to the garden gate were set right into the concrete, making the stout barrier of iron as close to being impenetrable as the rock to which it was attached.

  The women worked within the enclosure on the aesthetic aspects of the courtyard. One of them came up with the idea of building small corner shelters atop the wall for nesting robins. Stepping-stones were laid out to wind through the flowers. Bubba’s burly son, Eugene, dug a small pond—Sue Ellen’s idea, in lieu of a fountain—and Charley Banks lined it with mortar and rock to hold water. Garrett Buckmaster donated some goldfish from his own fishpond. Clarissa Denny, the dressmaker, supplied the fish food, purchased at the general store. Beatrice Masterson, the milliner, brought strips of sod from her own lawn to add small sections of green grass. Shelby Templeton, the cobbler, and his wife, Penny, brought a sapling oak.

  When all was done, Joseph teared up, an embarrassing moment for a man who’d always kept his emotions under tight rein. Caitlin hugged his arm and patted his chest. “It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Joseph had such a lump in his throat he could only nod. It was early in the season yet, so only the violets and crocus were in bloom, but the women had managed to make it look like an established garden, equal to anything Joseph had ever seen in San Francisco. It went beyond beautiful. Every inch of that courtyard had been created with loving and caring hands.

  Ace saved Joseph the need to speak. “As you all can see, my brother is struck speechless, and well he should be. This is, beyond a doubt, the prettiest little garden I’ve ever seen. Miss Rachel is going to love it.” Ace motioned toward the closed door. “She’s got a peephole, you know. I’m sure she’s peeking out even as I speak. This is a beautiful gift. There are no words to thank all of you.”

  The courtyard was so packed with people that Joseph feared the newly transplanted flowers might be trampled. Everyone stepped carefully, though. Sue Ellen White smiled and waved at the door. “Hello, Rachel! Joseph did most of the work, but we hope you enjoy the little things we’ve added.”

  Others called out as well, saying they also had contributed very little but hoped she could enjoy the enclosure.

  Rachel collapsed on a chair at the table and sobbed her heart out. All those people! For so many years, she’d felt alienated from everyon
e in town, convinced that they all thought her insane. To have them band together like this to give her an outdoor garden touched her so deeply that she had no words. She hadn’t been forgotten, after all. They simply hadn’t known how to help her.

  She was still weeping when she heard the wagons begin to pull out. Soon she heard footsteps inside the house. She tried to dry her eyes, but the tears just kept coming.

  A knock sounded on the archway door. “Rachel, open up, darlin’.”

  She didn’t want Joseph to see her like this. Oh, God. It felt as if her heart was breaking, only for happiness. He knocked again.

  “Sweetheart, don’t do this to me. I can’t get in.”

  She scrubbed at her cheeks again. “I’m c-coming.”

  “Why are you crying?” he called. “Have you seen that beautiful courtyard?”

  Stifling her sobs, she went to the archway, opened the door, and then struggled to insert the key into the lock with shaking hands. The instant the iron barrier was unlatched, Joseph swept into the room. He took the key from her and locked up after himself. Then he closed and barred the wooden door.

  “What is this?” He tucked the key back into her skirt pocket and drew her into his arms. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. You should be happy.”

  It felt so wonderful to be held by him again. Over the last two weeks, he’d scarcely touched her—only an occasional, accidental brush of their fingertips, and he’d absolutely refused to sleep in her water closet anymore.

  “Oh, Joseph, it’s s-so b-beautiful.”

  “And that’s to cry about?”

  He cupped the back of her head in a big, hard hand. Rachel pressed her face into the lee of his shoulder and savored the feeling. She wished the moment might last forever, that he’d never pull away and leave her feeling alone again. He drew her over to the sofa and sat with her still held in his arms.

  “Enough, darlin’. I hate it when you cry.”

  Rachel took a shuddering breath. Then she closed her eyes and sank against him. She loved having his well-muscled body curled partly around her, loved resting her cheek against his heat. She could hear his heartbeat, a strong and sturdy thump-thump-thump that was reassuringly rhythmic and even, not thready and erratic like her own.

  They sat in silence for a long while, and then he gently set her away from him. “I’m sorry,” he said huskily, “but if we stay close much longer, I’ll do something we may both regret.”

  Rachel didn’t believe that she would ever regret anything that happened between them. He lived by rules that were important in his world but weren’t in hers. She ran a hand over his ribbed chest, pleasuring herself just by touching him. He caught her wrist and shook his head.

  “Please don’t,” he said thickly. “I’m hanging on by a thin thread as it is.”

  Rachel didn’t want him to hang on. “Darby will come home soon, and you’ll leave,” she whispered. “Is it so wrong for me to want this time with you, so wrong to want the memories only you can give me?”

  His grip on her wrist tightened. “I want to give you more than memories.” He took a deep breath, met her gaze with burning intensity, exhaled shakily, and said, “Will you marry me, Rachel?”

  The question took her completely by surprise. She tried to free her wrist. “What?”

  He kept a firm hold on her. “I spoke plain. Will you marry me?”

  She shook her head mutely.

  “You talk about me leaving? I don’t think I can. I love you, Rachel Hollister. I want you as my wife. I want to give you my babies. I want to grow old with you.”

  Fresh tears sprang to Rachel’s eyes. “Are you mad? I can’t marry you, Joseph. What have I to offer you?”

  “Everything,” he said huskily. “Absolutely everything.”

  “I can’t raise children, living as I do. What would I do, push them out through the wood safe to see them off to school?” She gestured with her free hand to encompass the kitchen. “A family can’t live in one room.”

  “I’ll remodel my place and make it one hell of a big room,” he said softly. “And I’ll build you another courtyard and a vestibule as well, a safe antechamber so you can look out through your bars before you let anyone into the house. The children can come and go through the garden gate.”

  Rachel shook her head. “No, Joseph. Children need their own bedrooms. A family can’t exist the way I live.”

  “Sure it can,” he insisted. “The water closet is another room. That doesn’t bother you. The cellar is another room. That doesn’t bother you, either. We could have a regular home, Rachel, you and I together, with bedrooms for our children.”

  He made it sound so attainable. It was true that the water closet didn’t bother her, or the cellar, either.

  “I’ll make it work,” he whispered. “I swear to you, darlin’, I can make it work. No hallways to frighten you, just a big room like this with water closets all around, only they’ll be bedrooms, with you in the big room, living as you do now, never needing to go outside unless it’s to sit in your courtyard or work in your flowerbeds.”

  The thought of leaving her kitchen and moving to his place terrified Rachel. She shook her head again. “I can’t leave here, Joseph. I’m sorry. I want to be with you more than anything. But I just can’t leave here.”

  He sighed and lifted her clenched fist to trail kisses over her knuckles. “All right, then. We’ll live here. I can modify this place, adding on water closets as we have babies.”

  Rachel gaped at him. “But you have your own ranch.”

  “And the land adjoins yours. Maybe Darby would be willing to live at my place. It’s only a house, Rachel. Only a piece of land. I’ll sell out if I have to. What I can’t do—what I absolutely can’t do is go home and be apart from you. I’ve been wrestling with the problem for two weeks. I just can’t do it, darlin’.”

  Fresh tears welled in Rachel’s eyes. “Then don’t go. Stay. We don’t have to get married for you to stay.”

  “Oh, yes, we do,” he retorted. “I have a set of standards, Rachel Hollister. We’ll either do it right, or we won’t do it at all.”

  Rachel wanted so badly to say yes. Oh, how desperately she wanted that. But the whole idea rocked her world. “I can’t leave here, Joseph.”

  “I’m real clear on that, Rachel. I’m not asking you to leave here. I’m just asking you to make what’s between us right in the eyes of God.”

  “But how? How would we even get married?”

  “I’ll bring the preacher here.”

  “Into my kitchen?”

  He smiled. “You’ve got bars, sweetheart. He can stand in the dining room and say the words. Or we can do it in your courtyard, with him outside the garden gate. He doesn’t have to be in your kitchen or in your courtyard for us to do the deed.”

  “What if our baby got sick?”

  “I’d bring Doc out. You know Doc. Surely you trust him enough to let him inside.”

  Rachel did trust Doc. She focused on a button of Joseph’s shirt. “I don’t know. There would be so many problems, Joseph. I’ve never even considered the possibility of getting married.”

  He kissed her knuckles again. Then he forced her fingers to unfurl so he could trail the tip of his tongue over her palm. “I want you,” he whispered. “I want to hold you in my arms and love on you the whole night long. It’s a powerful kind of want, Rachel. So powerful that I’m not sure I’ll be able to control it if I’m around you too much.”

  Jolts of sensation shot up Rachel’s arm. With every flick of his tongue, she melted a little more. “Wh-what are you saying?”

  “That you have to marry me. Otherwise, I’ll have to stay away to keep from taking you.” He nibbled at the base of her thumb. “I want to taste you like this all over. I’m dying, I tell you. Put me out of my misery and just say yes.”

  He tugged her toward him and began nibbling under her ear. Rachel’s head went dizzy and her insides turned molten. Her lashes fluttered closed. She remembered how it f
elt when he’d kissed her breasts—how divine it was when he’d touched her in her most secret place. Her breath began to come in ragged little spurts that didn’t quite reach her lungs. She wanted to experience all those feelings again more than she’d ever wanted anything.

  “Oh, Joseph,” she moaned.

  “Say yes,” he whispered urgently. “Trust me to make it all work, darlin’. It’ll be perfect, I swear. Please, just say yes.”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Oh, yes, Joseph.” She wanted him to open her shirtwaist again, to bare her breasts. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  He drew her into his arms, enfolding her in a fierce hug that almost crushed her bones. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, oh, yes.”

  “Then I’ll make the arrangements.” He grasped her firmly by the shoulders and set her away from him. “I want it done as soon as possible. No folderol, no nonsense. We’ll keep it simple and just get it done.”

  Rachel blinked and almost toppled off the sofa cushion. She watched in bewildered confusion as he pushed to his feet and started pacing. “We’ll invite Caitlin and Ace, of course, and David, too. I know you’ve never met my little brother, Esa, but will you mind terribly if he comes?”

  What Rachel minded was that he had left her. Again. She pushed at her hair, straightened her shirtwaist, and gained her feet. “I thought if I agreed to marry you that we’d—you know. If we’re going to get married soon, I thought that we could finish this time.”

  He settled an implacable gaze on her. “We haven’t even started yet. Trust me on that. And we won’t, not until I’ve got a ring on that pretty little finger I was just kissing.”

  “But what harm is there in—” She broke off. “If we’re going to be married, Joseph, why can’t we be together that way a tiny bit early?”

  “Because that’s putting the cart before the horse. When I make love to you, you’re going to be my wife, right and proper. I won’t have it any other way.”

  Rachel searched his expression and knew he meant it. “But why?”