Teresa Bodwell

by Loving Miranda

  Mercy closed her eyes and Miranda could almost hear her sister counting to try and calm herself. “Miranda, is that what you . . . Are you worried about the baby?”

  Mercy pulled at the shovel and Miranda realized she’d been gripping it so tightly her hand was tingling. She released it and Mercy took the handle and leaned it against the wall. “Let’s go for a walk. We need to talk about this.”

  Her older sister pulled an arm through Miranda’s and they walked out into the sunshine together, feeling the warming rays against their backs as they made their way toward the aspens that screened Jake’s Creek from the house. It wasn’t until they were close enough to hear the murmuring of the stream that Mercy spoke.

  “I appreciate you lookin’ out for me and the baby, but there’s truly no need for you to be concerned.” Mercy squeezed Miranda’s arm tight against her side. “I think maybe I need to explain . . . about Thad.”

  “I know . . . I know you’re married and he’s entitled to—”

  Mercy giggled. It was a deep, throaty sound, but still held a bit of the girl Miranda remembered from her childhood. Mercy tugged Miranda to a stop and turned to face her sister. “You make it sound like it’s his right and my obligation.”

  Miranda nodded. That was how she understood it. Exactly.

  Mercy flushed again, glowing in the sunlight, even more beautiful than Miranda remembered her. She’d always been so proud of her older sister and felt so embarrassed that Mercy chose to hide her beauty behind her rough men’s clothing and bossy ways. Now Miranda wanted to hide.

  “It isn’t like that.” She sighed and looked across the creek up to the mountains that stood sentinel over their ranch. “What Thad and I share is special for both of us.” She favored her sister with a smile. “I don’t expect you to understand; you’ve not experienced it for yourself.”

  Miranda blushed and walked away so that her back was to her older sister. Lord, it was hard to lie to her. Not that she had experienced anything she’d call pleasurable, but she was hardly the innocent Mercy assumed her to be.

  “I . . . I know it’s difficult, but it’s time we talk about this. I tried before, but . . .” Mercy walked up behind her and touched her shoulder. “At Fort Kearny, when it seemed you were going to marry Harold Pearson. We talked some about this, didn’t we?”

  “You said I shouldn’t be afraid.” Miranda managed almost to sound normal. “That it hurt a little at first, but it wasn’t a bad hurt and it gets better.”

  “Is that what I said?”

  Miranda thought back to the hurried advice her sister had given her before they parted. Most of it had been about money and protecting herself from the soldiers. There had been a brief talk about what to expect in the marriage bed. “That’s all I remember.”

  “Well, I reckon I left out a good bit.” Mercy walked over to the creek and sat on a rock. She pulled off her boots and stockings and wriggled her toes in the water.

  Miranda pulled off her own boots and waded in, glad the uncomfortable conversation was over. She lifted her skirt and walked out to the middle of the stream where the water was halfway to her knees. The creek was so cold her feet went numb almost at once.

  “Must have been a wet summer,” she said. The creek would usually be much lower by October.

  Mercy smiled up at her. “Yes, we were due one after five drought years.” She reached into the water, pulled out a stone, and studied it.

  Miranda watched her sister turn the rock in her hand. She rubbed at the mud, then bent to swish the rock in the water and study it some more. “Jonathan likes rocks with shiny bits in them. Of course, he likes them better when he finds them himself.” She studied the rock for another moment, then dropped it back into the water. “Do you remember when we were girls and we wondered what it would be like to ride on a shooting star?”

  Miranda smiled. Her sister had finally recognized that Miranda had grown up. They had been girls together, and now they were women together.

  “We talked about how it would be to fly so fast through the black sky, remember?” Mercy continued.

  “I remember you talking endlessly about the stars.” Miranda kicked water at her sister.

  Mercy laughed. “You’ve never been curious about them?”

  “I reckoned you’d be the one to fly up there, not me.”

  Her older sister’s face grew somber as she looked up at Miranda. To escape her sister’s inspection, Miranda kicked water up at her.

  “Hey!” Mercy scooped up a giant wave with her hands and Miranda was forced to retreat to the other side of the narrow creek.

  Mercy’s laugh floated over the water and Miranda couldn’t help but join in. They faced each other, laughing. Mercy stopped first, gasping for breath and holding her side. Miranda splashed across the stream, feeling her gut twist.

  “Are you all right?” Miranda put a hand on each of Mercy’s shoulders.

  Her older sister nodded and smiled. “Got to laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.” She brushed a damp lock of hair back from her face. “Don’t you start treating me like a china doll; bad enough I have Thad fussing over me all the time.” She used a thumb to wipe water off of Miranda’s cheek. “Look at the two of us acting like a couple of little girls.”

  Miranda smiled, glad to have her sister distracted. “We should change into dry clothes.”

  They collected their boots and turned back to the house, walking arm in arm, bare feet padding against the sun-warmed earth.

  “What I’ve been trying so damn hard to say is this,” Mercy said. “I know now what it feels like to ride a shooting star. At least as close as I’m ever likely to come to it. It’s what Thad does to me when he touches me; I feel like I’m flying across the night sky. It isn’t only Thad who gets pleasure from our loving. And you don’t need to worry about the baby—”

  “I heard you tell him ‘no.’”

  “Did I?” Mercy squeezed her brows together, then smiled. “Oh, yes, I did say that.” She glanced at Miranda, then back up to the mountains. “He suggested we wait until tonight and I said ‘no.’ He likes to tease me, but it didn’t last long. I have ways of getting what I want from him.” She cleared her throat. “We really did think we were alone.”

  “You need to take care of yourself.”

  She reached for Miranda’s hand and squeezed it. “You know how much it means to me to be carrying a baby after all those years of believing I couldn’t.”

  Miranda nodded.

  “I wouldn’t do anything to risk harming our little miracle.”

  Miranda knew her sister spoke the truth. “I know that, only”—she drew in a long breath—“I reckon a baby growing inside you must be a fragile little thing.”

  “Fragile, yes, but not like a window pane. We . . . Thad and I are careful. He cares as much as I do about our baby. He’s always been tender with me, but since we found out I was pregnant, he is so gentle.”

  Miranda chewed on her lower lip.

  “Miranda.” Mercy sighed.

  The pity Miranda saw in her sister’s eyes made her want to cry.

  Mercy sat on the porch step and pulled her sister down beside her. “Did someone hurt you? . . . When you were away?”

  Miranda shook her head. “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t mean to pry into your business, Miranda. But if you want to tell me anything . . .” Miranda turned away from Mercy’s probing eyes. “I know you’ve seen a lot more of the world in the last year, and I can only imagine . . . Hell, even here in Fort Victory there’s plenty of ugliness. But please trust me about Thad. He’s a good man.”

  Miranda blinked back a tear. “I can see he is. He loves you.”

  “I hope one day you’ll be lucky enough to find someone who loves you as much.”

  “I don’t know . . .” Miranda swiped at the tear that rolled down her cheek. “How will I know when I’ve found him?”

  “When it’s right you’ll know.”

  “Easy for you to say,
you’ve chosen two men and been right both times. I’ve chosen two and look what happened.”

  “Two? So there was someone besides Harold?”

  Miranda stared across the yard at the barn. “It was a silly mistake I made in Philadelphia. Luckily, you sent for me before it could go too far.”

  When her sister didn’t respond, Miranda turned to see her staring. She waited for Mercy to accuse her of lying. Instead, she reached over and took Miranda’s hand, giving it a warm squeeze. “Don’t let a mistake or two in your past keep you from listening to your heart. You gave me that advice, remember?”

  Miranda looked into her sister’s eyes. “I don’t think I understood how much it might hurt, opening up your heart to the wrong man.”

  “I won’t promise you it’ll be painless. But I can tell you loneliness hurts just as much, and love is the only cure.”

  “I won’t be lonely, Mercy. Not while I have you and Pa.”

  “I’m glad to have you here, but for your sake I hope when you’re ready you find your own home. If I’m lucky it will be nearby. I want my children to know their Aunt Miranda.”

  “I want to know them, too.” Miranda smiled at her sister. At least she could be certain she would find love here at home.

  Miranda walked out to the pasture where the two milk cows spent their days grazing contentedly. “That’s a nice simple life,” she muttered as she opened the gate and walked in.

  She’d left the supper cooking and offered to bring the cows in for milking while Mercy helped Jonathan with his lessons. Pa would keep an eye on the stove, making certain that Mercy didn’t do anything that could ruin the stew. How her sister had managed to grow up without learning how to cook was beyond Miranda’s understanding. She’d always thought her sister was smarter, stronger, and just better at everything. Only in the past few days had Miranda realized how important her own skills were to the family. It was good to feel needed.

  At the sound of hoof beats, Miranda turned to the road in time to see a lone rider trotting toward the house. “Ben?” she whispered. It shouldn’t have been a surprise; he had said he was coming. Still, her pulse started a wild jig at the sight of him. She was hopeless.

  Slapping Gertie’s rump, Miranda got the cows to head toward the barn. Rosie followed the first cow at a pace that would make a snail impatient.

  “I suppose you two will give plenty of cream tonight,” Miranda said. This pair didn’t waste energy on anything other than making milk. Just as well, maybe she could avoid seeing Ben altogether. He’d come to inquire about the books, not to see her. That was for the best, because she didn’t need the likes of Ben Lansing troubling her.

  After settling the cows into their stalls, Miranda fetched the stool and bucket to prepare for milking. The pad of footfalls near the door startled her, and she dropped the bucket. The outline of a large man appeared in the door with the evening sun behind him so that it was impossible to see the man’s face.

  “Thad?” Miranda’s voice faltered.

  “It’s me.” Ben walked toward her.

  Miranda pulled herself taller. She sucked in a breath. “Are you looking for my sister, or my brother-in-law?”

  “I’ve already spoken with your sister. You were right—she didn’t keep my brother’s ledgers.” Ben stepped into the light from one of the open windows. “She’s going to let me look through the copies she made.” He kept walking toward her. “I came in here looking for you.”

  His eyes slid down and crept upward until she felt he was studying every inch of her. She lifted her chin in an effort to appear calm and certain of herself.

  “Why are you afraid of me?”

  “I’m not afraid.” She glared at him, or at least she tried to glare.

  He took another step forward and she stepped back before she could stop herself. Damn the man! She set her hands on her hips. “What business do you have with me?”

  “Unfinished business.” His eyes held hers, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.

  “It wasn’t me who stepped away.” The words slipped out and she realized that his rejection, which should have been a relief, still hurt.

  “I know.” Ben smiled and she could almost feel his lips on hers. “I want to apologize.”

  “Don’t be silly. Why would you apologize?”

  “Because I think I misled you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I may have given you the impression I wasn’t interested in kissing you.”

  “Who said anything about . . . kissing?”

  He stepped forward again and she took another step back, finding her back against the solid wood of the barn wall.

  “I did.” Ben caressed her cheek, smooth as satin, but warm against his fingertips. “Stayed awake all night thinking about it.”

  She smiled and her eyes seemed to reflect the sunlight itself. Ben’s heart skipped a beat. He skimmed his thumb under her chin and tilted her face up to his. Somewhere in the back of his mind a small voice warned him to stop. He didn’t listen.

  Her lips tasted good, felt wonderful. Soft, moist, and warm. He teased them open with his tongue and found his way inside, touching and tasting her tongue in a dance of sweet yearning that echoed the need he felt. For a moment, the pleasure of holding her was enough. Her small body tight against him—her scent sweeter than honey. Curse his weakness, he couldn’t help wanting more. Reaching down, he cupped her bottom, feeling the round, supple shape even through the wool skirt she wore. He pressed her solidly against him, which only increased the agony of his desire. A quiet moan of pleasure came from deep in Miranda’s throat, and the sound brought him a joy nearly as intense as the need he felt. He lifted his head and looked into her face—her eyes closed, a sweet smile upon her lips. Her lids slid open and she stared at him, the only movement the tip of her tongue touching her lips.

  A tear trickled down her cheek. He dipped his head, kissing and licking the salty tear away. “Well, that was better than I dreamed it,” he murmured against her cheek.

  “Mr. Lansing?” Mercy’s voice came from outside the barn.

  Ben spun around and walked toward the door. “Yes, ma’am, I’m coming.” He didn’t dare look back at Miranda as he stepped quickly out into the sunshine, cursing himself for the fool he was.

  What mad impulse caused her sister to invite Ben Lansing for supper Miranda couldn’t imagine. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him sipping his coffee. He set the cup down and scraped the last of his pie onto his fork before lifting it slowly up to his lips.

  He wiped a napkin over his lips and turned to face Mercy. “I’ve had no complaints about the food at Rita’s, but this is the finest meal I’ve had in recent memory.”

  “I’m pleased that you enjoyed it, Ben. My sister is a fine cook.”

  Miranda’s cheeks flamed as he turned his gaze to her. “My compliments to you, then, Miranda.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I hope you young folks will excuse me. I’ve had a long day.”

  “Are you feelin’ all right, Pa?” Miranda studied her father as he shoved to his feet.

  He smiled and bent to kiss her cheek. “Just tired, my girl.” He pecked Mercy’s cheek, too. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Pa.” Mercy stood and began gathering the dishes, but Thad stopped her. “You and Ben can take some time reviewing the books. I’ll help Miranda.” He retrieved the two thick ledger books from the shelves and set an extra tallow candle on the table.

  “Thank you, dear.” Mercy wiped off a corner of the table and opened one of the books. “I’m afraid you won’t get too much information here, Ben. Your brother’s ledgers were damaged in the fire. I copied what I could into a new ledger, but some of it is outright guessing.”

  “Hmm.” Ben bent over the page and studied it.

  Miranda scraped the plates, while Thad took the kettle off the stove and filled a pan with hot water.

  “I can wash,” Miranda said.

  “After that f
ine supper? Least I can do is wash the dishes.” Thad took a wet rag and commenced scrubbing. “Here, Jonathan. Leave your mother be. Aunt Miranda and I can use your help.”

  They worked together in silence for a time. Finally, Thad started whistling the “Blue Tail Fly.” Jonathan puckered his lips and tried to imitate Thad with little success. Miranda chuckled and Thad winked at her. She smiled at her brother-in-law, hoping he had forgiven her for her foolishness earlier.

  “What’s this page?” Ben asked.

  Miranda noticed Thad tense, though he continued whistling. He fished out a rag for Jonathan and handed the boy a tin cup to wash.

  “Cattle.” Mercy leaned forward and pointed to the page. “Couldn’t find a record of what Arthur had, so I took Buck out to the herd and counted.”

  “Buck?”

  “One of our hired men. Been with us almost as long as we’ve been in Colorado.”

  “So, he works for you.”

  Miranda cringed.

  “That’s right, he works for me.” Mercy’s voice sounded strained now. She hated being questioned. “And he’s an honest man. You’re welcome to talk to him.”

  “I’d like to do that.”

  “I’ll arrange it tomorrow,” Mercy snapped.

  “This shows the count, then. And this?”

  “Those are the animals we sold for meat.” Mercy brushed her hand over the page. “And these we kept for breeding.”

  “You have the bulls marked separately.”

  “That’s right. Generally we’d put aside some bulls for breeding.”

  “It looks like you sold them all.”

  “We had to. I told you there were a good many debts.”

  “Without breeding bulls, Jonathan’s herd will die.”

  “That would be true, except that we’re running our bulls with both herds; there were plenty of new calves born to Jonathan’s herd. Now the advantage—”

  “The advantage is you run the herds together and soon Jonathan’s herd becomes a part of your—”

  Mercy’s chair scraped against the floor as she leaped to her feet. “Now you lis—”

  Ben caught Mercy as she nearly toppled over. Thad was there an instant later and helped his wife back onto her chair.