by Linda Broday
Though he longed to obey his needs and rush to the beckoning goal, he proceeded slowly and with great caution.
Tracing tiny circles on her bare shoulder, he acquainted her with a light, sensuous touch. Down her arm, across her stomach, up the middle between her breasts, and then her throat. Growing bolder, he slipped his fingers over her creamy shoulder and down her back.
Gently, he moved in small, swirling arcs. Her skin was smooth, soft as a baby’s bottom. Suddenly, he encountered a patch of rough, crinkled flesh. Chunks of ice formed in his veins as he froze. The brand.
Jessie moaned as if in pain, hiding her face among the wispy hair on his chest.
“I’m sorry. Does it still hurt?” Sick remorse made his belly twist and buck, trying to relieve him of his supper.
Tears sparkled in Jessie’s eyes when she met his troubled gaze. “It’s healed. It’s just that I almost forgot for a little while.”
She pulled the bedcovers up to hide her nakedness. Duel cursed his clumsy blunder. He had ruined the tender mood. He rose and pulled on his buckskins. Outside, a thin, wispy scarf draped over the moon. The cloud momentarily blanked the silvery rays, making him locate the buttons of his breeches by touch alone.
Behind him, a delicate swish echoed in the quiet alcove, and he envisioned the muslin gown settling over Jessie’s bare breasts just as the wispy cloud had hid the moon—teasing, tantalizing.
A groan rose to his throat before he could stifle it. No amount of clothing could hide what his eyes and his heart had seen this night. His memory had forever captured Jessie’s exquisitely rounded curves, her sweet spirit. Covering his mouth, he hastily muffled the groan.
“Duel, I’m sorry. I truly am.” She reached out to stop him when he started to leave.
The simple gesture spoke of her despair. That she would fault herself for his stumble bathed his soul in wonder.
“You don’t owe me anything, Jess.” The small hand resting on his arm released ripples of warmth. He covered it with his free one. “It’s my place to make the amends.”
“I’d like you to stay. Please?”
Duel sat on the edge of the bed facing her. Auburn tendrils framed her face, spilling onto her bosom. Reminded him of a beautiful angel. If she knew how much he wanted her, how hotly the river of desire ran in his blood, she’d chase him from the house and bolt the doors.
When he started to speak, she placed her fingertips on his lips. “Don’t talk yet.”
Misery crawled into the far corners of his heart as he waited for her to gather her thoughts. Moonlight turned her blue eyes a silvery gray. She’d never looked more precious to him—or more aggrieved.
“I thought I could do it. Thought that what Jeremiah did to me didn’t matter. I intended to carry through.” Her musical voice lowered to almost a whisper. “I wanted you, not as a wife dutifully lets her husband, but in every way a woman desires a man.”
“You don’t have to explain, Jess.” He knew about that desire, for it seeped into his every pore. Oh God, sweet torture.
“But I do.” She wet her dry lips. “If you’ll give me more time…”
“I’ll let you have all the time you want.” The delicate curve of her cheek beckoned, and Duel couldn’t resist. He caressed, exploring her smooth features. Darn her mouth for looking so kissable. “I’m not going anywhere, lady,” he murmured. “Not even if you invite that blasted goat into our parlor.”
She rewarded his attempt at lighthearted humor with a skittish smile.
“Thank you.”
“We’ll just take it one small step at a time. No need to build up a head of steam right off.” Now why had he uttered those words? Anyone with any sense knew you couldn’t control a head of steam—it darn well spewed when and where it wanted.
If gaining her trust didn’t mean so darn much, he’d forgo capping the pressure that’d built inside him and throw caution to the wind.
“Then will you understand when I tell you I want you to share my bed, but not my body yet?”
Inside, every fiber resisted the notion. It would be nigh impossible to lie beside Jessie and try to keep his manly needs in check. After all, a man could be exposed to only so much temptation. Outwardly, he kept his doubts cloaked in what he hoped was his best poker face.
“If that’s your wish, I’ll respect it.”
But how, he didn’t know. Lord help him. Somehow, someway, he’d find the strength.
Jessie threw back the quilts for him to climb in beside her.
Twenty
What was that saying—“Fools rush in where angels fear to tread”?
The thought snaked through his mind, offering little reassurance as Duel slid in next to Jessie. His leg touched hers, and he jerked as though he’d come in contact with one of the deadlier vipers. He sure hoped the good Lord’d take pity on this fool.
His head sank into the goose-down pillow. He hadn’t slept on a regular bed in such a long while. The fluffy softness surprised him.
Jessie laid her head on his chest, and his arm encircled her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Thank you, Duel.” Her voice was low.
“For what?”
“Not hurting me. Not forcing me. Not laughing at this.”
“Your needs are just as important as mine, Jess.” More, the way he figured it.
“I keep forgetting that you’re different.”
“I’ll try to make sure you never regret hitching up with this poor dirt farmer.”
She shifted, and in the dim light he returned her pointed gaze. “I want you to look at it. If we remove the mystery of it from between us, perhaps that will help.”
Duel knew what “it” meant. She was right. The thing stood like an impenetrable wall, reminding him of her pain and suffering, and her of the awful deed she’d done. Still, it looked bad enough from a distance. He really didn’t care for a close-up view.
“Light the lamp, Duel.” Jessie sat up, and he had no choice.
Sulfur lingered in the air moments after he struck the match. Adjusting the wick to a low flame so as not to awaken the child, he stared out the window while she slipped the gown off her left shoulder. Rain had extinguished the fire, but the charred timbers of the barn stood outlined by the midnight sky.
“You can turn around.” Her light touch felt good on his shirtless back. Too good.
“We don’t have to do this.”
“I know, but I want to get everything in the open where we can deal with it.”
Smart move. Wasn’t that the same advice his father had given him in regards to telling Annie about his bounty hunting?
Lay your cards on the table, son, Walt had urged. Feller can’t see where he stands till he knows the hand he’s drawn.
Duel didn’t know if it’d work now like it did then. He sure hoped for a miracle—and the courage to not let his lady down. He took a deep breath. Whatever it took to keep Jessie’s faith in him from crumbling, he’d do. He clenched his jaw tight.
Still, nothing prepared him for the nearness. If he’d been standing, his legs would’ve buckled. A scarred ridge of skin rose in the shape of a diamond, with the letter J nothing more than an elevated hard welt. The red, puckered skin around it had drawn back as if it’d tried to fend off the atrocity by shrinking. The taste of bile soured on his tongue. He couldn’t bear the thought of Jessie’s torment.
“Touch it, Duel. This is what I killed a man for. This is why I’ll swing from a rope.”
Not if he could help it. He’d fight any man who attempted to hurt her again. At that moment, he’d never hated another human being as much as he despised Jeremiah Foltry. His hand balled in a fist as rage swept him down a mighty waterfall. He tumbled end over end, shutting his eyes against an unknown man’s taunting face, of the devil he imagined Foltry to resemble.
Jessie took his fist and gently uncurled the bent fingers, then her breath fluttered against him as she kissed his palm.
When Duel opened his e
yes, he discovered they’d filled with tears. In the last four years he’d found little reason for them. He blinked hard. The tears weren’t for him, but for his brave, strong woman—his wife.
Taking her face between his hands, he raised her gaze to him. Love, deep and sure, replaced the rage. He’d found a priceless jewel. His lips found hers, and he tasted his fill of the woman of his dreams.
*
Nothing could tarnish the contented smile on Jessie’s face the following morning. Regarding her image in the looking glass, she slipped on the new bonnet. Jittery hands reflected the turmoil inside as she tied the silk ribbon in a pretty bow. Every part of her body felt electrically charged. Marley tugged on her skirt. “Pwetty? Mine pwetty?” Jessie lifted the pint-sized child who made her feel almost whole again. The toddler reminded her of what could never be. The time had come to tell Duel her secret and risk losing him in the bargain. Would he change his mind about wanting half a woman? Soon, she promised. He deserved to know. She only hoped she hadn’t kept her silence too long.
What was that he’d said to her that night in the barn? Something about keep looking forward when the pain of looking back is too great. How could she? Stuck in no-man’s land, looking forward held as much pain for her as what she’d left behind.
Adjusting the fabric rosebuds around the girl’s soft collar, Jessie gave her a gentle hug. “Yes, sweetheart, Marley Rose is the prettiest little girl in the county.”
A low growl came from inches away where Duel struggled to attach a stiff collar to his collarless shirt. Each time he almost managed to get the elastic fastener buttoned in back, it sprang free and shot across the room.
Frustrated, he yanked off the offending article of clothing. “I’m not wearing this contraption. If I can’t go to church like I am, then, by Heaven, I’m not going.”
“Sweetheart, you’ll have to get down while I fix your…” She avoided his stern look. “Duel’s shirt.”
Marley toddled off, calling, “Boobie. Boobie.”
“Thank goodness Yellow Dog wanted out this morning.” Jessie took the rigid neck accessory from him. Talking about last night was out of the question. “I’ll do it for you. Turn around.”
He complied with her request. “I suppose the poor animal had his fill of coddling. Glad to see him up and around.”
With his height, she had to stretch to bring the stiff fabric across the front to the back. In so doing, she leaned into him, her breasts grazing his solid back. He jerked as though she’d gouged him with a needle.
Her smile deepened. They still had a way to go before they’d be comfortable in each other’s company, but in her estimation, they had passed a major hurdle last evening. How glorious to awaken beside her husband.
Not even the blackened timbers of the barn dampened her spirits. Bright sunlight splashed the field of sorghum, the meadow of wildflowers, and the grave atop the hill.
“Hold still. I won’t bite, you know.” She raised his collar-length hair and slipped the cumbersome piece beneath. The coffee-brown strands teased, doing a mating dance with her fingers.
Duel’s soft answer challenged her imagination. “No, ma’am, I reckon you don’t bite. But you sure as heck make me wish I was one of them biscuits you make so well.”
“A biscuit?” The task finished, she twisted around to stare. “Why on earth a biscuit?”
“I love to watch you savoring each bite like it was the best morsel you ever tasted. The way you lick your lips with the tip of your tongue, your pleased expression drives me crazy.”
Duel drew her so close she could hear the pounding of his heart. Or was that her own? She didn’t care. Those worries vanished the second his mouth touched hers. When her lips parted, he explored inside, leaving the taste of wanting on her tongue. And when the kiss ended, if she’d ever truly doubted it, she knew he’d romanced and won her soul.
“I want to satisfy you in every way, to know I’m the cause of that special smile on your face.” He tweaked the ribbon beneath her chin and winked. “Someday I will.”
Jessie hummed a quiet tune all the way to the buckboard that had thankfully been outside the barn. If she hadn’t had Marley Rose on her lap, she probably would’ve floated right off the buggy seat.
Little did Duel know he’d fulfilled another pledge—that he could claim sole responsibility for her radiant beam.
Few people roamed Tranquility’s main street. They passed the barber shop, the stables, and the saloon on the way to the church at the end. A man, a woman, and a precious little girl. Not connected in all the traditional ways, they were a family nevertheless.
All of a sudden, the window of Dexter’s General Store caught her eye. The dress looked exactly like the one—no, it couldn’t be. She swiveled in the seat to get a better view.
“Duel, isn’t that Annie’s—?”
He wouldn’t meet her stare. “Yep.”
“But what—”
“Traded it.” He flicked the reins and clicked his tongue to Preacher. “Wasn’t doing us any good, so I traded it along with a gallon of goat’s milk for your fancy bonnet.”
For a moment, Jessie imagined the wind played tricks on her. She couldn’t have heard right. Both were hard to conceive. Duel giving up a prized possession of the one he loved, and wrestling with the goat he hated for a gallon of milk. It boggled her mind.
Yet that explained how he’d bought the hat without a cent in his pocket. Though she’d wondered, she hadn’t dared to ask. A fragile thing, a man’s pride.
She tried to swallow, but a lump of regret blocked the passage. He’d sacrificed so much to give her a beautiful gift. And she’d not had the decency to share an important secret. Not a good way to repay a man’s kindness.
Marley Rose babbled, pointing excitedly to every dog, cat, and bird they passed. For someone so young, the child took absolute enjoyment from every living creature. Sadness pervaded Jessie’s thoughts. Marley’s mother was missing these moments.
Preacher pulled into the churchyard. Duel maneuvered the buggy between a group of others. The little church would see a full crowd this day.
Already several women craned their necks to get a better look at Duel and Jessie, who’d come only once before. She straightened the blue satin ribbon beneath her chin, inhaled deeply, and handed Marley Rose to Duel.
“Appears we’re a novelty of sorts.” Jessie accepted her husband’s hand and stepped down.
“’Twould appear.” His intent gaze burned a path to her heart, pushing aside everything until only sunlight and rainbows remained.
Her breath held suspended for several moments when his lips twitched. He wanted to kiss her. But please, not right now. Not in front of the church and in full view of anyone who cared to watch, especially the busybodies who continued to stare. It would mortify her.
“Papa. Mine Papa.” Marley Rose patted Duel’s chest. The cute antic broke the spell.
Laughter bubbled forth as Jessie stepped toward the open church doors. “She’s become mighty possessive, husband dear.”
“Because you encourage her, wife dear.” Duel took her arm and nodded politely to the women who whispered like magpies behind their hands.
Seemed he’d gotten a mite possessive in the bargain. Just for show, she reminded herself. Still, the pleasant sensation of her skirts swishing against his legs made her buoyant. Not even the gossiping old biddies could smother her cheery day.
“How good to see you, Duel, Mrs. McClain.” The reverend shook their hands as if he were vigorously priming a pump. “Right pretty day, don’t you think?”
“Beautiful.” Duel’s eyes held hers.
Jessie didn’t know if he spoke of the weather or something entirely different—her blue bonnet perhaps. Strange flutters whipped into a frenzy in her stomach.
“Reverend, I’ve heard nothing but praise for your work from Tranquility’s townsfolk,” she said.
Vicky waved anxiously and, with Roy and the twins in tow, hurried toward them. “Jessie,
I love your bonnet. It’s absolutely divine. I’m pea-green with jealousy.”
“Thank you.” She cast Duel a swift glance. “A gift from Duel.”
“My, aren’t we special.” Vicky nudged Duel with her elbow. “Very nice, brother. See, Roy. Why don’t you ever buy me anything like that?”
“Never have anything left over, darlin’. We have six mouths to feed to their three. Takes all I can scrounge up for necessities. Besides, what adornment does a beautiful rose need?” Roy’s eyes twinkled like two stars. Clearly, he loved sparring with Vicky. Jessie respected any man who could hold his own with the strong-minded woman.
Walt ambled up with his uneven gait. “Heard you had a bit of bad luck, son. Terrible about the barn.”
“News sure travels fast, Pop.”
“G’anpa!” Marley almost jumped from Duel’s arms.
“Hey there, angel girl.” Walt hugged the child, then had trouble releasing her grip from his neck. Seeing her determination to hold on, he took her from Duel.
“This is the first I’ve heard of it. What happened?” Roy asked.
“Lightnin’ struck it. Burned nigh to the ground.”
Hampton Pierson strolled through the door and paused, glancing around the room. Uh-oh, trouble. Frantic dismay released an army of chills up her spine. The man seemed bent on meandering in their direction.
“Reverend will start the service soon.” Vicky urged the twins forward to the McClain pew.
Jessie breathed a sigh of relief, but before she could follow suit, Hampton gained her attention. Now a few feet away, he nodded and grinned.
“Coming, Duel?” She quickly reached for Marley Rose.
Fire and brimstone reigned that fateful Sunday. Reverend Dinsmore spoke of sin and all things that were an abomination before God. Guilt lay heavy on Jessie’s soul. No sin in the entire world was greater than taking a life.
You won’t kill me! You don’t have it in you. Never have, never will. You’re too scared. See how you’re shaking.
Jeremiah had laughed in her face. Then she’d pulled the trigger. He’d jerked as he lay there. Disbelief had replaced his cold cockiness. She’d squeezed the trigger again, then again.
