by Clay, Verna
Chapter 9: Honeymoon Blues
Brant drove the horses to the front of the cabin shortly before dusk and helped Abby down. Part of him wanted to carry her inside and make long, sweet love to her. The other part wanted to escape her presence and visit Molly's grave. He chose the latter.
After seeing her into the cabin, he said, "I'll see you in the morning."
She gave him a little smile. "Okay. Good night."
Quickly unhitching and bedding down his horses, he made the ten minute walk to Molly's small gravestone followed by Wally. The dog stood vigil at the foot of the grave and Brant sat and leaned against the old oak whose branches stretched out overhead as if protective of the happenings below. He said aloud, "Hello, Molly, love. Well, I did it. I married her. Now the youngins have a ma. And she's a real good one." Tears choked his next words, "But I miss you so much. I don't know if I can be a good husband to her because of how much I loved you. Eventually, I'm gonna sleep with her 'cause I still have those needs raging in me, but I feel guilty on so many counts. Guilty like I'm sorta cheating on you and guilty because I'll just be using her body for my needs. Anyway, I told her I'd give her time to adjust, so it hasn't happened yet. And then there's Luke. He hates the fact that I've remarried. I don't know how to reach our son."
Wally moved from the grave to stretch out beside his master—whimpering dog words and licking his hand. Brant stroked his fur and leaned his head against the trunk, staying near Molly's grave until well after dark.
* * *
Abby tossed in her bed until she finally heard the muffled sounds of Brant's return. Curling into a ball, she relived her wedding day, detail by detail. Brant had been so kind about her stupidly fainting. She smiled and whispered, "You are Mrs. Brant Samson and you have three children." Then she rolled over and stared at her door feeling a longing so intense she wanted to rush from her room, burst into his, and throw herself into his arms to partake of the intimacies of marriage. Forcing herself to close her eyes and relax, she drifted to sleep, dreaming of blue eyes, black hair, strong arms, and a deep voice that whispered ardent words she couldn't decipher because of her inexperience.
Sunlight streamed through Abby's bedroom window and she stretched and yawned, still feeling lovely emotions from dreams she couldn't quite remember. She crawled from bed and reached for her pocket watch. Seven o'clock! What must Brant be thinking? She should have been up two hours ago and kindled the stove for coffee and then retrieved eggs from the chicken coop. She rushed to wash up in her basin and dress in her serviceable clothing. Pausing just a moment to lovingly finger her wedding dress hanging on a peg, she smiled and then hurried from her room. Brant was sitting at the table sipping coffee.
"I'm so sorry for sleeping late!" She grabbed the basket for retrieving eggs.
"Abby, I already got the eggs. Besides, I'm glad you slept in. You had a long day yesterday. I'm kinda takin' it easy myself. Sit down and have coffee with me."
Abby set the basket back down and reached for a coffee tin in the cupboard while Brant grabbed a potholder and picked up the pot. He filled her cup and sat across from her. "Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Like a baby."
She thought she saw a disappointed look flicker across his face, but wasn't sure. He sipped his coffee again. "I'm gonna leave around noon to pick the children up. Do you want to come with me?"
"Yes, I'd love to."
"Um, I need to warn you that Neal and Lita are gonna think we, uh, you know, last night…"
Abby turned pink. "I understand."
"Anyway, they might jokingly say some things that are kinda…embarrassing."
"Ah, maybe I'll stay here." She jumped up. "Hey, I think I'll take a hint from yesterday and eat something. How about pancakes?"
When Brant left after lunch to pick the children up, Abby opened her trunk and searched the bottom of it. Finding the books she'd packed, she placed them on her bed and looked for one Luke might enjoy that was not already a part of Brant's collection. She'd been hesitant to give him a book before now because of his aversion to her and the fact that he so enjoyed dime novels. She perused her selection until one captured her attention, Treasure Island. Grinning, she set the book aside, and then hurried to ready the house for the children's return and stir beans simmering on the stove. Next, she decided to make cookies. She'd helped Jenny a few times and the stone hard texture had improved to a softer one. Yes, she would surprise everyone with a sweet! Pulling out the ingredients, she set to work, humming and grinning foolishly to herself.
When the buckboard rolled to the front of the house, she had several dozen cookies waiting on a plate. The door burst open and Luke slammed in.
"Hello Luke. Would you like a treat?" she asked cheerily.
He glowered at her and shouted, "No. All I want is for you to leave and never come back!"
His hateful words sent a dagger through her heart and she gasped.
He rushed to the loft ladder and had just stepped onto the bottom rung when Brant stormed in. "Luke!" he yelled. "Get your ass back here and apologize! I won't have you talking to Abby like that!"
She interrupted, "Brant, its okay."
"The hell it is! Get over here, Luke! Don't make me come after you."
"Brant, please, don't…"
"Abby, this is between me and my son. Don't interfere!"
Abby saw movement at the front door and turned to see Jenny holding Ty and both of them with tears streaming down their faces. Rushing over, she lifted Ty into her arms. "Come on, let's go for a walk." She closed the door on the father and son confrontation.
Reaching for Jenny's hand she gently pulled her from the porch and toward a trail leading away from the cabin. Jenny quietly cried and Ty pushed his face into Abby's neck. "Mama," he said, "I wuv oo."
Abby felt tears spring to her own eyes. "I love you, too, baby."
Jenny pulled them toward a smaller path and Abby followed her to a giant tree. Before they even arrived, she saw the gravestone. Jenny stopped in front of the grave and let out a sob.
Abby went down on her knees to hold both children. "It's okay, honey. Just let it all out. It's good to cry."
Jenny fell to her own knees and laid her forehead on the ground, crying her heart out.
Abby sobbed with her. She wept for the woman this family still grieved for and, with purity of heart, wished that she were still alive.
Wally, ever present, sat quietly watching.
After a long time, Jenny pushed up and went to place her small hands on the stone, "Goodbye Mama," she said softly. Ty wrestled away from Abby and copied his sister. Placing his chubby fingers on the stone, he, too, said, "Bye Mama." Then he turned and held his hands out to Abby. "My Mama." Abby reached to lift him and caught sight of Brant standing on the trail watching. She wondered how long he'd been there. His faced looked emotionless when he captured her gaze, but then he looked toward the grave and longing so deep filled his expression that Abby whimpered. He abruptly turned and walked away.
After a few more minutes by the graveside, Abby gathered Jenny and Ty and walked back toward the house with Wally leading the way. When they came within sight of it, Brant rode up on his horse and said curtly, "Luke and I are riding out to check the herd. We'll be back late. Just leave supper on the stove." He didn't even wait for her response before flicking his horse's reins and galloping away. Luke sat on his horse in the distance.
Chapter 10: Awakenings
After tucking Jenny and Ty into bed and telling them a story, Abby retrieved the book she'd pulled out earlier. Slipping it in her pocket, she picked up a lantern and climbed the ladder so she could place the book where Luke would see it. Moving a small framed picture on his nightstand, she laid Treasure Island down. She glanced at the photo and gasped. It was a family photo. Brant and Molly stood behind Luke and Jenny and everyone looked so happy—as if they were trying not to laugh so a picture could be taken. Jenny looked to be about six years old. Abby studied Molly's face. She had a sweet
ness that jumped out even from a photo. Looking closer she saw that Brant and Molly were holding hands. Blinking rapidly against tears, she set the photo back and hastily climbed down from the loft.
The next morning the routine that had been established before the wedding, resumed. Jenny retrieved eggs and Abby now stayed at the cabin to fire up the stove and wait for Ty to wake up.
When Brant and Luke returned for breakfast after doing morning chores, she couldn't bring herself to look either of them in the eyes. She heard Brant clear his throat and then Luke said, "Miz Abby, I apologize for my behavior yesterday." Her heart pounded and she chanced a glance at him. Was he having a change of heart toward her? Sadly, his eyes revealed he was only speaking the words because his father was making him. She nodded and looked back at her plate. "Apology accepted, Luke."
Over the next two weeks, nothing much changed and Luke didn't acknowledge the book she'd set on his nightstand. She never saw him reading it either. Sadness filled her heart.
One day, Brant said during breakfast, "Miz Abby, I think it's time you learned to ride a horse and shoot a gun. Being on a ranch, those skills are an absolute necessity."
Abby gulped, "Okay. If you think so."
After lunch, when the weather had warmed, Brant gave Abby her first riding lesson. "Now, honey, this is Daisy, a gentle mare that I'm giving to you. I've had her about five years and she's never given me any headache."
Abby glanced at the horse that wasn't as big as Brant's, but still looked intimidating to her.
He continued, "Just pet her nose and pat her neck. Talk to her so she gets to know your voice. Hold your palm open and feed her a little hay."
Abby did as he said and smiled at Daisy's response. "I think she likes me."
Brant grinned. "I told her I was giving her to someone as sweet as she is."
Abby blushed and turned her head so Brant couldn't see her reaction to his words.
After an overview of horses and their peculiarities, Brant proceeded to show her how to saddle a horse. "We'll repeat this every day until you get the hang of it. Now, I'm going to lift you onto Daisy and then mount the horse behind you. You'll need to hitch your dress between your legs because we don't ride sidesaddle out here. It's too dangerous.
"We'll just circle the corral today. Tomorrow you can ride her alone while I lead her. In a few days we'll ride out together and I'll show you my land…er, our land."
Abby struggled with her dress until Brant showed her how it was done by country women, and then lifted her onto the horse. Even though she tried to refrain from making a sound, a tiny yelp escaped.
"Now there's no reason to be scared. An animal can sense your fear and it makes them skittish. After a few rides you'll be just fine."
Brant's calming tone and patience helped her and she felt herself relax a little. That is, until he mounted the horse behind her. Now, it wasn't the horse frightening her, it was her own reaction to her husband being so close. When he placed his arms around her and gathered the reins, she wanted to twist in the saddle and forget the horse. She wanted to kiss him and wrap her arms around his broad shoulders. She wanted to remove his hat and run her fingers through his jet black hair. She wanted to.... She stiffened at the visions running through her mind.
"Now, honey, you need to try and relax," he said against her ear.
Abby's heart was beating so fast she thought she might faint.
Brant made a clicking noise and flicked the reins. Daisy clopped forward, but Abby was so lost in a sea of sensation with Brant's arms around her that she paid little attention to the horse. Soon she was relaxing and closing her eyes amidst visions of the two of them kissing and doing wonderful things.
Languidly, she felt his lips touch her ear and move lower. When his tongue licked the curve of her neck, she melted into him.
A sound distracted her and she jerked her eyes open. Jenny stood holding Ty at the corral gate, a smile lighting her face. "Miz Abby looks real good on Daisy."
Brant dismounted and helped her down. "That she does." His azure gaze captured her chocolate one. "We'll continue this lesson later."
Over the next week, Abby learned to ride on her own and shoot a rifle and pistol. Although leery of the weapons, she realized the truth in Brant's words about needing to know how to ride and shoot. His praise gave her courage.
"You're a damn good shot, Abby!"
As promised, he took her on a tour of his ranch and the beauty of it thrilled her. "I can see why you love the land so."
They had halted their horses on a rise and she could see their home below with smoke pouring from the chimney creating a picture perfect scene. Abby wanted to pinch herself when she realized that she was living in that lovely home, married to this handsome and kindly man, and mothering three children. Other than the fact that he didn't love her like a husband should love his wife, her dream had come true.
"What are you thinking, Abby," Brant asked softly.
Turning in her saddle, she unabashedly smiled. "I was thinking that dreams really do come true."
* * *
Brant couldn't take his eyes off Abby's beautiful smile and had an inclination to jump off his horse, lift her down from hers, topple her to the ground, kiss her senseless, raise her skirt, and then find solace in her body. He sighed and glanced across the small valley to the oak tree where Molly was buried.
* * *
The weather turned freezing and Abby started school lessons with Jenny and Ty. Luke spent a lot of time outdoors with his father.
Every night, Jenny happily described her school work to her father. Since the incident at her mother's grave, she had seemed happier and lighthearted—as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Luke remained moody, as did Brant. Most nights, Abby went to bed after tucking Jenny and Ty in because the morose atmosphere surrounding father and son was more than she could handle.
One night, very late, she heard a soft knock and Brant entered her room. He quietly closed the door. Still half asleep, she sat up and said groggily, "Brant?"
He walked to her bedside and sat down, which jerked her awake. "Is everything okay with the children?" she asked, alarmed.
"Everything's fine." He reached to push her long hair away from her face and his touch sent goose bumps down her spine. "Abby, it's time. I want you to come to my room."
Her comprehension was immediate and she couldn't make herself speak. Unexpectedly, he pulled her covers back, letting in the cold air, and lifted her into his arms. Her eyes went wide and her hair streamed over his forearms, hanging long and wavy. Quietly, he carried her from her room and into his.
* * *
Brant had been fighting his body's raging desires since his marriage and if he didn't give in soon, he'd never get any sleep. As it was, he was falling asleep on his horse while working each day. Tonight, he'd been staring at the ceiling for hours, imagining Abby in his bed. He was married to her, for god's sake. He had every right to sleep with her.
Lowering her to his bed, he pulled the covers up over her. Her wide-eyed stare made him smile. The thought of introducing her to the pleasures of the body aroused his body even more, if that were possible. Lightly, he kissed her lips and reached to turn off his lamp. He remembered Molly had wanted it off at first to hide her embarrassment. Women were strange creatures. They had beautiful bodies and yet wanted to hide in the dark. He would have loved keeping the light on.
In the dark he removed his long johns and crawled into bed beside her. He could hear her rapid breathing. He turned onto his side and lifted a hand to graze his knuckles down her cheek. Her breathing came faster. "Don't be afraid, Abby. I won't hurt you."
"I know you won't," she whispered back. Her blind trust twisted something in his heart and endeared her to him.
He smoothed his hand down her hair. "You have beautiful hair."
"Thank you. So do you," she said sweetly, and seemed to relax a little.
He moved his fingers back to her cheek and gently stroked. "I
love your skin, so soft and creamy." Her breathing quickened and so did his. "I know these past weeks have been strained while everyone adjusts." He lowered his fingers to her neck and then her shoulder. Rising above her, he said, "I'm going to kiss you."
Her breathing had turned into little pants that were driving him crazy. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers, grazing her lips. She softly panted into his mouth, and it took all of his willpower not to touch her lips with his tongue. He wanted to invade her mouth with hot kisses, but he knew that would only frighten her. He moved his lips to the corner of her mouth, and then up her cheek to her eyes, her forehead, and then kissed the tip of her nose before moving back to her mouth. She arched into him and he smiled. He traced her shoulder and arm, before entwining his fingers with hers. She held tightly to his hand. He touched his tongue to her lips. Instead of flinching, like he had expected, she parted her lips. Slipping his tongue inside, he explored and increased the pressure. She squeezed his hand and caressed his chest with her other hand before encircling his neck. Her response encouraged him and he freed his hand from hers, cupping her breast. She moaned and lifted into his hand, running her fingers through his hair. Unable to stop himself, he slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her with passion that kept welling up in his heart. She reciprocated his fervor, never flinching from him.
The foreplay was so enjoyable, that he continued it for a long time, cautiously moving his mouth to other parts of her body—neck, shoulders, ears, and finally her breasts. She whimpered and held his head to her. He fondled her through her clothing, and of her own volition, she reached to untie the ribbons of her gown. The fabric parted and he groaned in ecstasy when his mouth encountered her flesh. He lifted his head and spoke against her mouth, "I want you. Do you want me?"
"Oh, yes," she breathed, and moved her mouth to kiss his chest and lowered her hands to clutch his sides.
When his hands moved to the secret places of her body and she reacted with unabashed pleasure, he thought he might burst. After a long time, he entered her, slowly. Barely able to speak because of his passion, he said, "This will hurt."
