Texas Blonde

by Victoria Thompson

  "He did?" Blanche asked, betraying far more interest than she had intended to, judging from the way she bit her lip.

  "Yes, he did, Blanche Delano, and he acted just as strangely as you're acting. What happened between you two, anyway?" Felicity demanded.

  "Nothing," Blanche said with obvious regret, but when Felicity started to light into her again, she explained. "He made me mad when he tricked me, and when he didn't apologize, I figured I was right in thinking he was nothing but a lying cheat. I'd almost convinced myself I was better off without him when he finally did apologize that last day in San Antone."

  "If he apologized, then what's still wrong between you?" Felicity asked in exasperation.

  Blanche shook her head. "He apologized, but he didn't seem to want to take it any further than that," she said, trying to sound unconcerned.

  "What!" Felicity cried.

  Blanche gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I know it's hard to believe that any man could resist my charms," she said with irony, "but he obviously just didn't like me well enough to stay and work things out."

  "That isn't true!" Felicity protested. "I saw his face when he asked about you, and I know he likes you. He more than likes you!"

  For one brief moment, Felicity saw hope flicker in Blanche's green eyes, but it died just as quickly. She shook her head again. "If he did, he'd be here, wouldn't he?"

  Felicity opened her mouth to protest again but caught herself just in time. There was only one person who could convince Blanche that Asa cared about her, and he was in Philadelphia. Felicity couldn't help wondering how long he'd stay there if he knew how eagerly Blanche would welcome his return to Texas.

  "Joshua! Hurry up. I don't have all night!" Blanche called again.

  Felicity fidgeted nervously in her hiding place. Blanche had told her to stand behind the wagon until the stage had properly been set for her presentation, but Felicity didn't think she could stand the suspense much longer. If Joshua didn't come out soon, she was going to run inside and get him.

  At long last, she heard the front door open and Joshua said, "What brings you back again so soon, Blanche?"

  The sound of his voice seemed to vibrate through Felicity's entire body, quivering along the nerve endings that anticipation had scraped raw. Only one more second and she would be in his arms, she reminded herself as she fought the urge to race around the wagon toward him.

  "I brought you a little something from town, something that will cheer you right up," Blanche reported.

  Joshua doubted that very much, but then he heard Blanche mutter, "Come on out," and he noticed a woman's skirts moving from the opposite side of the wagon. For one horrible moment he thought Blanche might have brought him some kind of female companionship in a misdirected effort at neighborliness. He had already opened his mouth to protest when he recognized his wife.

  "Felicity," he said, stunned. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Was he seeing her face on other women's bodies now? But no, it was her body, too. It was encased in a prim little traveling suit he had never seen, but it was her body nevertheless. And her voice that spoke to him.

  "Hello," she replied with a tentative smile. She took a step forward, but stopped uncertainly when he did not move. He was standing at the top of the porch steps, and the setting sun glinted off the silver of his hair. He was as handsome as ever except that he hadn't shaved in several days. Perhaps that was what made him seem so sinister, so forbidding, and why she hesitated to approach him. But why didn't he approach her?

  Felicity. Her name seemed to echo inside his head like the roll of thunder. She was here. She was really here, and the implications of her presence shook him to the very foundation of his being. She had come home to him- without being forced, without being begged, without even being asked.

  "Isn't somebody supposed to kiss somebody?" Blanche inquired impatiently after a long moment.

  "God, yes," Josh muttered as he descended the stairs in one leap and took Felicity in his arms.

  The mouth that claimed hers was blessedly familiar, and she gloried in the taste, the scent, and the feel of him against her. He crushed her to him so that her feet left the ground, and she clung with every ounce of her strength. Her joy magnified every sensation, the scratch of his beard, the silkiness of his silver hair as her fingers threaded through it, the iron pressure of his chest against the softness of her breasts, the urgent evidence of his desire.

  "Now, that's a lot better," Blanche decreed, startling them back to reality and reminding them that they had an audience. Reluctantly they separated, but not completely, as if afraid that if they broke contact, this glorious moment would fade like a dream. "You haven't said how you like my little surprise, Joshua," Blanche taunted.

  "I like it fine…" he began, but his pleased grin suddenly twisted into a frown. "How did you get here?" he demanded of Felicity.

  "The same way I left," she said, still breathless from his kiss. "I took the train to San Antonio and then-"

  "You came alone? You came on that stage from San Antone alone?" he asked, outraged.

  "Well, yes…" she admitted, puzzled at his anger.

  "Why on earth did you do a fool thing like that? Do you know how dangerous that is?" His hands tightened on her arms as if he wanted to shake her.

  In her former life, Felicity might have bitten her tongue and swallowed the sharp words that sprang to her lips, but those days were gone for good. She was her mother's daughter now. "Would you rather I hadn't come at all?" she inquired haughtily. "Did you want me to stay in Philadelphia?"

  Josh blinked in surprise at her tone. "No, of course not," he said. "But you should have waited for me to come for you."

  "And how was I supposed to know you were coming for me?" she challenged.

  Josh opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it with a snap when he realized he had no answer for that question.

  "Kiss her again, Joshua," Blanche advised. "Then she won't be able to sass you."

  Josh glanced at Blanche in annoyance. "It's getting dark, Blanche. Shouldn't you be heading on home?"

  "Mr. Logan! Where are your manners?" Felicity said tartly. "Blanche, you're perfectly welcome to come in and even spend the night if you want."

  Blanche laughed aloud at Josh's disgruntled expression as he dropped his hands from Felicity's arms and stepped back to stare at his wife in perplexity. "It would serve you right if I took you up on that invitation," Blanche said. "But I know my company would not be appreciated tonight. I'm only waiting for some able-bodied men to unload these trunks from my wagon, and then I'll be on my way."

  Josh quickly rounded up the required men, who were all almost as overjoyed to see Felicity as he was. The disturbance drew Candace from her cabin for a tearful but happy reunion, so it was a while before Blanche was able to make good her promise. When the three large trunks containing Felicity's new wardrobe had finally been deposited in the house, Blanche took her leave.

  "And Joshua, do let the poor girl get a little sleep tonight," Blanche added with a wink just before she slapped her team into motion.

  Under normal circumstances, such a remark would have made Josh grin, but the circumstances were far from normal. Felicity was back, and just seeing her and holding her for a moment had stirred all his desire for her to life again. But her return had changed nothing as far as their physical relationship was concerned. He still could not make love to her.

  "Let's go inside," he said when Blanche's wagon had left the yard and the others had begun to drift away so that Josh and Felicity could be alone. "Are you hungry?"

  Felicity shook her head. "No, I'm too excited to eat," she told him with a smile as he conducted her into the house. She paused a moment, drinking in the sight of this room that held so many memories for her. The rocking chair Joshua had bought her still sat beside the hearth, the chair where she was to have rocked their child. She shivered slightly at this painful thought.

  "Are you cold? I can make a fire," he offered, hearing th
e odd formality of his own voice but unable to shake off the feeling of awkwardness that caused it. He wanted to take her in his arms again, to taste her and feel her and kiss her, to assure himself that she was really here, but he knew such an action would be foolish and dangerous in the extreme. To hold her was bound to lead to other things, and he knew his control was tenuous at best.

  "No, I'm not cold," she said, turning to face him. She, too, heard the formality in his tone, and when she studied his expression, she could plainly see that something was very wrong. "Aren't you happy to see me?" she asked, her old apprehensions returning in a rush. Perhaps her suspicions had been correct. Perhaps he really did not want her back. "Didn't you want me to come home?"

  "Of course I wanted you to come home," he assured her quickly, seeing the hurt in her eyes. "And yes, I am happy to see you." He longed to go to her, to soothe away that hurt, but he did not dare, not yet. Perhaps in a moment, when he had better control.

  For a second she automatically suppressed her response, instinctively seeking to hide her concerns from him, but she almost instantly recognized the folly of such an action. She had hidden her concerns for too long. Now was the time for honesty. "You don't look very happy," she accused. "You look like you wish I hadn't come at all. How long were you going to wait before you sent for me?"

  Once again her words startled him. She had certainly turned into a spitfire since the last time he had seen her. Or maybe she was a lot angrier than she appeared to be. She had every reason for such an anger, he had to admit. At least he had the means to pacify her. He gave her an apologetic smile. "I wasn't going to send for you," he said, instantly regretting his teasing remark when he saw the pain of rejection flicker across her lovely face. "I was going to come for you," he quickly amended. "Here, look," he added, motioning her over to his bedroom door.

  When she was close, he gestured toward the bed, where his half-packed bag sat. "I was getting ready to start for San Antone when I heard Blanche yelling outside."

  Felicity lifted her face to his. "You were coming to get me?" she asked, hardly daring to believe the truth of that statement lest her hopes be dashed yet again.

  He nodded. "I figured after I didn't write to you all that time, it might take more than just a letter to get you back."

  "Oh, Joshua!" she cried, flinging her arms around him. "All you had to do was write, just one letter, and I would have walked all the way here!" For one glorious moment she held him, inhaling his clean, masculine scent and reveling in his strength.

  Josh returned her embrace for blissful seconds, savoring the sweet softness of her. He heard her voice as if from far away, and he had to concentrate to understand the words.

  "Why didn't you write? I know you didn't want me to know what was going on here, but you could have sent me a love letter…" She felt his body go rigid, and he pulled away from her.

  "How did you know what was going on here?" he asked, forcing himself to concentrate on that so he wouldn't think about carrying her off to the big bed he knew awaited them in the next room.

  "Blanche wrote and told me everything after the fire…"

  "Blanche! That busybody! She had no right to meddle in our affairs," Josh shouted, grasping at the anger that helped cancel out his more dangerous emotions. "And that reminds me, was it her idea for you to come home by yourself?"

  "No, that was my idea," Felicity said, a little taken aback by his fury.

  "Don't you have a lick of sense? Anything could have happened to you on that trip," he fumed.

  "But nothing did," she pointed out, still puzzling over his anger.

  "Why didn't you at least let me know you were coming? I could have met your train," he said, running one hand through the silver of his hair.

  "Because I wasn't sure you wanted me to come," she said, watching closely for his reaction.

  "You weren't sure…? Why not?" His gray eyes reflected his bafflement.

  "Because you left me in Philadelphia after telling me we could never live together as man and wife again, and then you didn't write to me, not once in almost two months. What was I supposed to think?"

  Once more Josh saw the pain of rejection cloud the blue eyes he loved so much. The elemental urge to ease that pain drew him to her. "Oh, Lissy," he whispered. She was almost in his arms when he caught himself and stopped short, stepping back quickly. "You weren't supposed to think I didn't want you," he said instead, his voice hoarse with the strain of holding himself back.

  She stared at him incredulously, trying to make sense of the disparity between his words and his actions. If he did want her, why was he acting as if he couldn't bear to touch her? "Do you still love me, Joshua?"

  "Of course I do," he replied instantly.

  "Then why don't you kiss me?" she demanded, unconvinced.

  Josh closed his eyes; seeking the strength that seemed to have permanently deserted him. "There's nothing I'd like better," he said, steeling himself for the invitation he knew he would see on her face before opening his eyes again. "But I don't think I could stop with just a kiss."

  Felicity's eyes widened as comprehension dawned. She smiled a slow, secretive smile. "But, Joshua, you won't have to stop!"

  Chapter Fourteen

  Felicity snuggled up to Joshua, savoring the feel of his naked body pressed up against the length of hers under the covers of their marriage bed. His arms tightened possessively around her, and he sighed contentedly in the aftermath of their passion. Playfully, she stroked the three-day growth of whiskers that shaded his cheeks.

  He smiled lazily. "I told you to let me shave first, but you were in such a hurry," he teased, capturing the tiny fist that thumped him on the shoulder in retaliation and kissing each clenched knuckle.

  "It seems to me you were in a little bit of a hurry yourself," Felicity reminded him with mock indignation. She remembered that very well, although she only vaguely recalled him muttering something about needing a shave as he was busy tearing her clothes off.

  "Can you blame me?" he asked, nuzzling the sensitive spot just behind her ear.

  "No," she whispered. She did not blame him at all for being eager, although at first she had feared a very different outcome for this evening.

  Joshua had been furious when she told him she had spoken to another doctor, even after she assured him that Dr. Strong had not examined her. Not that she would have minded, of course. Before going to see the good doctor, she had decided she would submit to anything that might return her marriage to normal.

  However, Dr. Strong had listened to her story and then informed her that an examination at this time would probably not accomplish anything.

  "You should wait at least a year before even thinking about having another child," he had told her. "If, when your body has had a chance to heal, you decide you want to try again, come back and see me."

  "A year!" she had protested, and with much embarrassment, had managed to convey her husband's fears of impregnating her if they made love in the meantime.

  That was when Dr. Strong had embarrassed her even more by explaining how she and Joshua could make love without fear of pregnancy. All the way home on the train she had agonized over exactly how she would explain the process to Joshua without actually swooning with humiliation, but she had found the task surprisingly easy. As soon as Joshua calmed down about the doctor visit and she showed him the things Dr. Strong had given her, he had quickly comprehended the procedure.

  Felicity had anxiously watched the expressions flitting over his handsome face as he gradually realized what this would mean to their marriage. His final expression had been pure, wholesome lust.

  "Are you going to show me how to use these things?" he asked provocatively, sending a wave of heat to her cheeks and various other parts of her.

  "I'll try," she had replied with feigned primness, "but I'm new at it, too. I may need a lot of practice at first…"

  She hadn't even had a chance to finish her teasing. The next thing she knew, they were in the
bedroom and clothes were flying everywhere.

  Now, with that first burst of passion slaked, Felicity stroked his prickly cheek. Only one worry marred the bliss of the moment. "Was it… was it as good for you as before?"

  Dr. Strong had warned that her husband might complain about a certain dulling of sensation.

  "It was perfect," he lied. He had noticed a difference, a lessening of pleasure, but what did that matter when weighed against the choice of never having her again? "Couldn't you tell how pleased I was?" he asked with a grin.

  Yes, she had been able to tell that. "You weren't half as pleased as I was," she taunted playfully.

  Josh pretended to consider that remark. "I suppose that means you must have missed me," he concluded, only half teasing.

  "Terribly," she said, no longer teasing at all. "And… did you miss me?"

  "Oh, a little," he allowed, but then he saw how her expression had changed, how her blue eyes were clouded with doubt. "I only missed you as much as I would miss my heart if somebody cut it out and carried it off to Philadelphia," he told her raggedly.

  "Oh, Joshua, I love you so much," she said, pulling him close and closer still until only the ultimate union could bring the oneness she desired.

  "I love you, Lissy," he whispered, his voice urgent with need. "Don't ever leave me again."

  Felicity wanted to remind him that she had not been the one to leave, but his mouth was on hers, effectively blocking any argument. After a while, making the point no longer seemed important.

  Joshua's hands were gentle but relentless, leaving no part of her body unexplored. Places she had never dreamed could be sensitive sprang to life under his loving touch. Perhaps her reaction was so intense because her body was starved for him, but she did not care to analyze her response at that particular moment. She just wanted to experience it.

  And experience it she did, with every sense, every nerve, every fiber of her being, until she heard her own voice, hoarse and breathless, begging for release.