The Gem: The Malloy Family, Book 12

by Beth Williamson

  They rode toward the tree line to clean her up. She kept dabbing at her cheek and peering at the handkerchief. The graze wasn’t bleeding profusely, but he had no doubt it hurt. Perhaps they could rest for a while after doctoring her cheek.

  No one was missing them and their lives were an open prairie in front of them. They had nothing standing in their way and no impediments to their future. It was liberating and a bit terrifying.

  What did he know about being a husband? He had a ridiculously poor model in his father. Mason had given him advice now and then, and showed Eli what a husband should be. That didn’t mean Eli was ready to be all he could for Charlie, but he was damn sure going to try.

  As they rode closer to the trees, he heard burbling water. “Sounds like we’re in luck. There is water here.”

  “Good. My cheek stings.” She frowned. “I’ve got a packet Isabelle gave me. She wrote down instructions, which is good because I can never remember what does what.”

  They dismounted and secured the horses to a branch, then headed for the stream. Charlie sat on a rock with a wrapped packet and handed it to him. “Take this and read what she wrote.” She dipped the handkerchief into the water and gently cleaned at the wound, wincing as she did.

  “Good thing my father insisted I learn to read the Bible so I can follow my wife’s orders now.” He grinned when she stuck out her tongue.

  Eli untied the twine and unwrapped the package. A few packets of paper were carefully folded inside along with a paper with neat, even writing. He read the instructions and found the one marked yarrow.

  “This one is supposed to stop bleeding and help with swelling.” He spent the next few minutes cleaning her cheek as best he could, then adding water to the yarrow. “I have to put this on the wound.”

  “Like hell you will.” She held out her hand. “I’ll do it. I don’t want to have to punch you if you hurt me.”

  “Fair enough.” He held out his hand and she dipped her fingers in the mash, dabbing it on her cheek. “Don’t mess up your beautiful face.”

  She snorted. “You are blind.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve heard love is blind, but not in this case. You are beautiful.”

  “I’ve looked better.”

  “You’ve looked worse.”

  She smacked his shoulder. “You’re supposed to flatter me.”

  “No, I’m not. You’d punch me if I did.”

  “Yeah I would.” She cleaned her fingers off in the water. “Are we really done with all the horrible things?”

  He nodded. “It’s just you and me, honey. How about I set up a picnic for us?”

  “I think I can see my way to picnic with you.” She raised one brow. “What did you have in mind?”

  He cupped her chin and kissed her. “I thought I would make love to my wife.”

  “Really? I reckon I would like that.” She grinned and made a shooing motion with her hand. “Get busy, husband.”

  He almost tripped over his big feet running back to the horses for their blankets and the sack of food that was left. He shook with anticipation and need. He wanted to fall on her and lose himself in her body, but he wouldn’t.

  This was too important to lose control right away. He wanted to savor her and the moment. As he shook out the blanket on the softest grass, he watched her. Just looking at his wife made him hard. Charlie was everything to him, best friend, wife, partner. She owned his heart.

  He returned to her side and bowed. “Your bed awaits, my lady.”

  She tied the packet back up and put it in her saddlebags. With a grin, she managed a curtsey.

  “I don’t plan on calling you my lord, though.”

  He laughed and held out his hand. She threaded their fingers together and they walked to the makeshift bed.

  “One of these days we’re going to do this in a real bed.” He turned her toward him and peered at the wound, now covered with a yarrow poultice. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

  She shrugged. “It could have been worse. We’re both alive and together.”

  “Partners.” He smiled and kissed her. Their mouths fused together and the simple kiss turned into something more. Heat raced through him and he pulled her against him, his hardness and her softness.

  “I think we need to get naked.” He cupped her breasts and pinched the nipples. She sucked in a breath and cupped his cock through his trousers.

  “Yep. Naked. Now.”

  They stripped the clothes off each other in haste, pulling and yanking until they fell onto the blanket in a tangle of arms and legs. He found a nipple and took it into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at the sweet peak. She moaned and pulled at his shoulders.

  “Don’t make me wait.”

  He grinned even as his body pulsed and ached with need to thrust into her. “Anticipation makes it sweeter.”

  “No, it makes me grumpy.” She tugged at his hair. “Now, Eli. Now.”

  He lapped at the other breast as he sank into the heat between her legs. Heaven could not possibly be any sweeter than this moment. He bit her nipple as he thrust into her.

  She groaned and pulled at his hair again. “More.”

  It seemed both of them liked a little pain with their pleasure. Another reason they were so compatible in every way. He picked up his pace, slamming into her pussy so his pelvis hit her clit each time. She moved with him in perfect rhythm, pulling at his ass to urge him to go faster.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips and he drove impossibly deep into her body, into her womb, into her life. His release started in his feet and traveled upwards. He bit her other nipple and she screamed his name, her pussy walls fluttering and tightening around him.

  As the pleasure roared through him, he shouted, “I love you,” as he spilled his seed deep into her body. There was nowhere and no one he ever wanted as much as he did Charlie.

  She was his heart, his life, his soul. She was everything.

  The closer they rode to Frankie’s house, the tighter Charlie’s stomach got. She hadn’t seen her eldest sister in more than six months and she’d never gone to her house without Isabelle. Charlie wasn’t scared, not really—she was anxious.

  The trip from their little glen of happiness had been uneventful, with plentiful game, berries and water for them and the horses. They’d made love every night and every morning, reveling in each other’s bodies. She’d learned what he liked and what made him moan. Being alone with him for an entire week had brought them closer than they’d ever been. Charlie couldn’t imagine what her life would have been like if she hadn’t seen Eli naked. It seemed so long ago.

  Seeing Frankie would make everything real. Her eldest sister knew nothing of Charlie’s marriage unless Isabelle had written, which was possible.

  As they rode up toward the ranch, she marveled at all Frankie and her husband John had built in ten years. A big house, barn, several corrals of the best horseflesh for a hundred miles—and children. They’d been lucky enough to have five boys, Raymond, Ethan, Brett, Trevor and baby Jack. She hadn’t met the baby yet, but he was surely as beautiful as his older brothers.

  The sound of boys whooping and screeching echoed through the air. Laughter and foolishness in the late afternoon was common at the Malloys’. Someone must have spotted Charlie and Eli because the noise and pack of children headed toward them.

  The oldest, Ray, nine and a serious-minded boy, led the way. As they ran across the yard, Trevor stumbled and fell, wailing as he scraped up his hands. Ray stopped and helped him up, brushed off the dirt and must have said something to Trevor to ease the hurt. The smallest of the four, he straightened his shoulders and ran after his brothers with Ray at his side.

  “Aunt Charlie!” Ethan and Brett screamed in unison.

  Charlie’s horse shied a bit from the noise, but she patted his neck and murmured in his ear. “You know
these boys. They feed you those oats you love.” The gelding seemed to recognize the ranch because he calmed and tossed his head, a sure sign he was happy.

  “They’re, ah, noisy.” Eli watched her nephews with trepidation.

  “You have no idea.” She laughed and dismounted. The boys surrounded her with squeals of joy, hugs and kisses. She greeted each one and made sure he knew she was glad to see him.

  Ray looked at Eli with a scowl. “Who’s that man?”

  Charlie ruffled her nephew’s hair. “That man is my husband, Eli Sylvester.”

  “You got two first names?” Brett blinked up at Eli.

  “I suppose I do.” Eli dismounted and stood beside Charlie.

  Trevor craned his neck to peer at Eli. The four-year-old had a smear of something orange decorating his cheek. “You’re taller than a tree!”

  “Maybe. Depends on if the tree is little or not.”

  Trevor frowned. “I ain’t little.”

  “That’s not what I meant. You’ll grow big, and, uh.” Eli looked at Charlie helplessly.

  Charlie took pity on her husband. “Where is your mother?”

  “She’s in the house, making supper.” Brett wiped his nose on his dirty sleeve. “She said don’t come in the house ’til she rings the bell.”

  Charlie smiled. “Maybe you boys can help Eli with the horses and the cat.”

  Shouts of “Me, me, me!” were almost deafening. She laughed at Eli’s expression and kissed him to choruses of “Ewww!” before she headed for the house. It was time to talk to Frankie.

  Charlie stepped into the house and the smell of supper cooking washed over her. It reminded her of Maman, being home and feeling safe and loved. She had forgotten how potent the scent of something was. This hit her like a punch to the gut and stole her breath for a moment.

  “I told you boys to stay outside. I cannot—” Frankie started to admonish her children, then stopped when she saw Charlie. A smile spread across her face. “Charlotte, chéri.”

  Just like that Charlie was enfolded in her sister’s arms and she once again found herself weeping. Frankie led her to the settee, the one she’d insisted John buy from someplace back east. Fancy for a Wyoming ranch, but perfect for the petite Frankie. The maroon cushions were comfortable and welcoming.

  They sat side by side for a few moments while Frankie murmured into her ear, just as Maman used to do when any of them were upset. It was a comfort and just what Charlie needed.

  “I do not see you for so long and then you appear crying and wearing a wedding band.” Frankie examined Charlie’s hand. “It is a lovely ring. I hope there is a man who gave it to you.”

  “Yes, there is.” Charlie laughed and wiped her face with her already dirty hands.

  Frankie tutted and gave her a handkerchief from her sleeve. “You will never change, chéri.”

  “No, I’ve changed. That’s why I’m here. I have a story to tell you and Jo. My story.” Charlie used the handkerchief to placate her sister. “Do you think Ray can go fetch her?”

  Jo lived only half an hour from Frankie with her husband Declan, also a Malloy, although he was born a different man. The west had changed him, as it had everyone.

  “Oui, of course. Let me call him.” Frankie started to rise, but Charlie stopped her.

  “My husband is in the barn with the boys.” It still felt strange to use the word husband, but she knew now there could be no other man except the one she loved. “His name is Eli Sylvester.”

  Frankie’s brows rose. She had the same sunset-colored hair Charlie had, but without the frizzy cloud. The eldest Chastain also had green eyes, whereas Charlie had hazel. They had similar facial structure, although Charlie seemed to tower over her tiny sister.

  “The Eli? You married him, then? Isabelle said you loved him but could not see it.” Frankie kissed both of Charlie’s cheeks, then her forehead, and smiled broadly. “I am so happy for you, tamia. I can see in your eyes he is your man and you are his woman, oui?”

  “Yes, we’ve been married for a few weeks, and that’s another story to tell.” Charlie settled into the settee and waited while Frankie went to tell Ray to head to his aunt’s house.

  When her sister came back into the house, she was laughing. “The boys are gathered around him as though he was Father Christmas. Your Eli is a lovely man.”

  Charlie smiled. “Yeah, he is lovely, isn’t he?”

  “I must stir supper and then we will talk.” Frankie went into her kitchen and fussed around with the meal.

  Charlie closed her eyes for just a moment, then sleep claimed her.

  “Tamia, wake up.” The lilting voice tickled at Charlie’s ear. She was dreaming of making love with Eli near the creek again. Yet the voice kept pulling her up from the very nice dream. “You must wake up.”

  Her eyelids were so heavy, but she tried to open them anyway. She blinked against the light and focused on the face hovering over hers. Not face, but faces. Lots of faces.

  Jo sat beside her, ringed by Frankie holding baby Jack, the other four boys, Frankie’s husband John and Eli. Charlie sat up with a jolt. She looked from face to face and saw only happiness and a bit of concern. The cat was curled up beside her, purring and warm. Charlie sat up, displacing the cat with a disgusting meow.

  “Jo.” She smiled at her bespectacled sister. “I’ve missed you.”

  Jo, the only sister with dark brown hair like Papa, pulled her into a hug. As the former governess, she taught her sons and Frankie’s sons each day. It was a gaggle of boys who were growing up together, loved and cherished. Jut like Maman and Papa had done for them.

  “I missed you too.” Jo cupped her face. “You were exhausted. Your Eli asked us to let you sleep. Declan had to stay home with the boys, but I had to come to see you. Levi and Isaac are both sick with a cold.”

  Eli stood behind everyone, a soft expression on his face. He winked at Charlie. She shook her head at his foolishness.

  “It’s been a long few weeks since we left Fort Laramie.” She rubbed her eyes and then frowned at everyone. “When’s supper? I’m starving.”

  The boys shouted about their own hunger and growling bellies. John picked up Trevor and Brett under his arms.

  “It’s good to see you, brat.” He smiled at Charlie. “Even if these little scamps have no manners.” John was a big man with bright blue eyes and wavy brown hair. Handsome, charming and incorrigible. He loved Frankie as much as she loved him.

  “You too. Did you meet Eli?” Charlie got to her feet and stretched her kinked muscles.

  “I did. The boys can’t stop talking about him.” John shot Eli an assessing look. “He still has to prove he’s worthy of my little sister, though.”

  Charlie snorted. “Not hardly. You know the only person whose opinion matters is me.”

  “You are too much like my wife.” John walked off with the boys hanging off him like the monkeys they were, squealing and laughing.

  “I like your family.” Eli kissed her. “I mean, I already liked Isabelle and Mason, but I like these folks too.”

  “I am going to tell them about what happened to me and how we came to be married.” She had to share so she could move on to the rest of her life.

  “I’ll be right there with you.” He took her hand and squeezed. “Does the cat have to come with us?”

  She raised one brow. “Of course she does. Her name is Gaston and she’s my cat.”

  “Fine, but she still isn’t sleeping in the bed with us. Wherever that bed is.” He reached down and scratched the cat behind the ears. With a meow, it moved away, tail in the air. “She still doesn’t like me.”

  Her heart sang from the love in his eyes. She kissed him back. “Well, the cat doesn’t need to like you. I love you. I’ve woken up from a damn long sleep. I’m ready to live.”

  “Good because I’ve
been waiting a long time to be with you. I love you, Charlie.”

  She held those words tight, never willing to let them go. “Are you ready for a marriage with a trouser-wearing, cussing, hunter female with a short temper who can’t cook?”

  “I am. Are you ready for life with a tall, clumsy man who eats more than two people, can fix anything and snores?” He smiled.

  “I am.”

  “Then let’s get to it, wife.”

  She bumped his shoulder. “Damn right, husband.”

  Laughing, with more love in her heart than she thought possible, Charlie and Eli joined her family for supper. The future was theirs. Together to love and live side by side. A team that was meant to be.

  Epilogue

  Fort Laramie, Wyoming Territory

  May 1859

  “She’s where?” Eli stared at Isabelle, his jaw tight and his gut churning.

  “You heard me.” Isabelle folded the towel and set it on the shelf in her medical office. “She refused to listen to me and she’s stronger and bigger than me, especially now that she’s pregnant.”

  “You should have stopped her.” Eli rushed out and ran toward the woods. He ignored Isabelle’s response, since she was likely telling him that his wife was a force of nature. He knew that, but now she was out hunting by herself in the woods. And she was almost nine months pregnant.

  Her trousers didn’t fit anymore so she had taken a dress and cut it in half, sewed the edges to make a unique pair of calico trousers with lace cuffs. She didn’t care how she looked or who stared at her, but then again, she never had. Throughout her pregnancy, she’d had strange cravings, rearranged their new cabin three times and cried on a daily basis. She also ate every bit of food she got her hands on. Thank goodness his mother could cook since neither Eli nor Charlie could.

  It had been a wonderful, exasperating and thrilling nine months. Now that she was within days of giving birth, she’d decided to go hunting by herself. He would wring her neck when he found her.