Time After Time

by Elizabeth Boyce

  “The storm is moving in quickly; we had best take cover. There is a cabin nearby that our overseer sometimes uses when he is hunting. It is rustic, but it will shelter us through this storm,” he called back to her.

  He turned and headed into the trees; Emily followed. Branches brushed against her face and hair, and brambles poked at her boots. The thunder was growing closer and she could feel Shadow growing skittish. Emily spoke softly to the horse in low, soothing tones, but her mind turned back again to Jonathon.

  Their progress through the woods was slow, and the thunder rumbled above them as lightning streaked the sky. Large droplets of rain began to pommel them and pound the forest floor. The trees were little protection, and Emily knew they would soon be drenched.

  Suddenly, a rabbit jumped in front of Shadow at the exact moment lightning struck a nearby tree producing a loud crack of thunder. Emily could not control her horse. Shadow shied and reared and Emily was thrown from her back. Jonathon turned in time to see her hurtle off Shadow and land, twisting, on one leg. She fell to the ground hitting her head on a protruding tree root. Shadow bolted, snorting in fear.

  Jonathon galloped back to Emily and dismounted. She was unconscious, and her leg was twisted beneath her. Fearing a broken leg, he searched for some straight, sturdy branches. Ripping his shirt into strips, he constructed a crude, but effective, splint. He lifted Emily gently in his arms, held Neptune’s reins, and headed for the overseer’s cabin, estimating it to be about a half mile away. The thunder and lightning continued, and the skies opened up pelting them with a stinging torrent of rain. The temperature was dropping with the onslaught of the storm. Jonathon walked carefully so not to trip or slip in the now-softening mud. By the time he reached the cabin, they were drenched to the skin. He tied Neptune to a tree and carried Emily into the cabin.

  Emily moaned and slowly opened her eyes as Jonathon placed her on the bed.

  “Where am I?” she whispered and tried to rise. She winced in pain as her leg shifted.

  “Shhh,” Jonathon said softly. “You were thrown from Shadow and hit your head. I think you hurt your leg.”

  Emily was shaking and her lips quivered with the cold.

  “We need to get out of these wet clothes before we catch a chill. The storm will last for a while.”

  Emily looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “And just what do you suggest we wear, Captain Brentwood? Or is this part of some grand scheme of yours?”

  He looked around hopelessly. Emily was right; this cabin was rustic and equipped only for an overnight stay. The bed, at least, had bedclothes that would keep them warm… and covered up.

  He turned to Emily who was shivering both from the dampness and from the shock of the fall. He knew it was critical to get her warm and dry.

  “Come on, Em, you need to warm up. Can you undress if I turn my back? I shall pull the quilt off so you can wrap up in it.”

  Despite the splint that immobilized her leg, it was painful for Emily to shift as he removed the quilt from under her. It took her several moments just to sit up. She strained to reach the laces along the back of her dress, and each time she balanced to reach around her back, the pressure of the movement hurt her leg. Finally, Jonathon sat beside her on the bed.

  “Let me help you, Miss Wentworth.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Emily exclaimed.

  “Well, you seem to be making very little headway,” Jonathon laughed softly. “Come, Em, let me help you.”

  Emily hesitated, but seeing the sense of it, and getting colder by the minute, she relented. He sat beside her and, slowly, she turned her back to him and lifted her tawny locks exposing the laces down the back of her dress.

  Jonathon fumbled with the laces, surprised at his awkwardness. This certainly was not his first experience relieving a lady of her frock, yet he felt like a schoolboy. His fingers worked deftly, though they trembled. It is just that they are cold, he thought.

  Gradually, Emily’s dress opened in the back and her creamy skin was revealed. Jonathon’s throat felt dry. As her dress slipped forward, he gently brought the quilt across her lap so Emily could modestly hold it against herself. She slipped the dress forward and Jonathon’s eyes swept over her back. Her shoulders glistened in the dim light, and he longed to trace his fingers along the outline of her spine from the nape of her neck to the delicate curve just peeking from the below the waistline of her dress.

  He wrapped some of the quilt across her back so she could finish removing the bodice of her dress. Emily looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes smiling her thanks. Fighting the allure she felt for him was difficult enough, but now she felt a new warmth and appreciation for Jonathon because of his gentle ministrations. Moving cautiously and laughing with their awkward pursuit of modesty, they finally removed Emily’s wet clothes.

  Once she was resting comfortably under the quilt, Jonathon went back outside in the downpour to unsaddle Neptune and bring in the saddlebags. Back inside, he started a fire.

  “Now, Miss Wentworth, you must fight your basic instincts and turn your head while I shed my wet clothes.”

  Emily blushed furiously. “Let me assure you, Captain, I have no interest in watching you disrobe.” Emily snapped her mouth shut, surprised by her boldness. Jonathon threw his head back, laughing.

  “Whom are you trying to convince, Miss Wentworth?” he smiled devilishly.

  “Ooooh,” she winced and fell against the pillow, turning her face against the wall.

  Jonathon stripped off his wet clothing and wrapped himself in a blanket from the cedar chest. He stoked the fire, which brought a warmth and coziness to the cabin, then brought a chair alongside the bed and looked at Emily. Her face pale and drawn, her eyes bespoke her pain.

  Reaching into a saddlebag on the floor, he retrieved a flask. “Here, Em, drink some brandy; it will help the pain.”

  “Why does brandy always seem to enter into our conversation?” she asked ruefully. She accepted the flask and sipped carefully. “It is horrible stuff,” she choked out making a face.

  Jonathon laughed. “How does your head feel?”

  “Like a drum — it is pounding. My leg feels worse.” She tried to move it and winced in pain. Jonathon handed her the flask and she took another sip.

  “At that rate, Em, your leg will be healed before you drink enough to ease the pain.” She made a face at him and sipped some more. She felt the warmth seep through her body, and it did seem to help somewhat.

  “Are you warm enough, Em? The storm brought some cool air with it.” Emily nodded and smiled. He continued, “I imagine Shadow will reach the stables soon. When we do not return with him or shortly after, someone will come looking for us.”

  “Will they think to look here? Your land is so vast they could search for days.”

  “Hmmm, so you admit to the vastness of my land? You are right, though, Em. They do not know what direction we were headed in, so it could be days.” Jonathon raised his eyebrows. “That could be interesting.”

  “You are terrible!” Emily gasped. “Please get me my clothes.”

  “They are not dry yet and you do not need damp clothes clinging to that lovely body right now.”

  Emily felt a rush of warmth at his words. “I did not realize how difficult this situation has been for you. You have been most kind to Andrew and me, and have always acted in a gentlemanly manner.”

  Jonathon gave her a crooked smile, “Even this afternoon?”

  “I was as much at fault as you,” she said softly. The brandy warmed Emily all over and the throbbing in her head had lessened considerably. As long as she did not move it, her leg was fairly comfortable. The fire made the room quite cozy and Emily carefully lifted her arms from beneath the blanket and rested them on top, revealing soft, creamy shoulders. Feeling sleepy, she stifled a yawn.

&nbs
p; “You need some more rest,” Jonathon said. He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, and she reached up, caught his hand, and held it.

  “Thank you for rescuing me,” she murmured sleepily.

  “My pleasure, m’lady. I shall see how our provisions are. It is lucky for us that Dora packed enough for a week.”

  Emily dozed off.

  • • •

  When she awakened, the sky was dark and the light of the fire and a single candle cast deep shadows in the one-room cabin. It was rustic, fit for a man concerned only with hunting for a few days, not amenities. But the thick, feather mattress and down pillows were comfortable and, since Jonathon had pulled the bed in front of the hearth, quite warm. Warm enough in fact that in her sleep Emily had let the blanket slip, exposing most of the curve of her round, full breasts. Realizing this she quickly yanked up the blanket and winced as she caught her right foot, sending shards of pain up her leg.

  “Time for your medicine, Miss Wentworth,” Jonathon said bringing over the flask and gently sitting down beside her. Emily took a couple of sips and coughed, which hurt her head.

  “I do not know which is worse, the injury or the cure.” She took a couple more sips and handed him the flask. “You could have covered me up, Jonathon,” she scolded.

  “Why? I was enjoying the view,” he grinned. “You are lovely, Em. Enticing.”

  “And you are a rogue,” she said impishly. “May I have my clothes now?”

  “I do not know, I rather like you this way. Very natural, do you not agree?” he teased.

  “I shall get them myself.”

  She rose but her head began to throb and when she reached up to her temples the blanket slipped to her waist. Letting out a little scream she flopped back to the pillows and regained her modesty. “Ohhh,” she moaned and reached for the flask.

  Jonathon burst out laughing. “If you continue to tempt me like this, I shall not be held accountable for my actions.”

  Emily took several sips this time and snarled, “You love to see me miserable, do you not?”

  Chuckling Jonathon rose and brought over the saddlebags. He spread out napkins and some food and wine on a nearby table.

  “I do not think I am hungry,” Emily said. Her head seemed to float and she was warm all over. “But I do feel much better,” she giggled.

  Jonathon grabbed the wine bottle and gave her a stern look. “None of this for you, young lady.”

  She grabbed the flask. “Yes sir, guardian,” she saluted letting the blanket slip. “I shall have to quench my thirst medicinally,” she slurred and sipped some brandy. And coughed.

  “You have had enough, Em,” Jonathon said, reaching for the flask.

  “Do not be such an old fogey, Jonathon,” Emily smirked, pulling the flask away.

  Jonathon reached across her but she stretched her arm back and the blanket dropped again to her waist. Firelight flickered across her full pink-tipped breasts. There was a devilish twinkle in her eyes and she giggled again.

  “Emily,” Jonathon said in a tight voice.

  “Yes, Jonathon?” she said, feigning innocence.

  He reached over her for the flask and his chest rubbed against her. Her breath was soft against his shoulder.

  “Jonathon?” she whispered.

  He turned and met her eyes — their twinkle was replaced with a smoldering fire. Her arm slowly lowered the flask to the mattress, snapping the lid closed. She reached up and touched Jonathon’s face, gently stroking his cheek. Her eyes traced the line of his jaw and returned to meet his gaze.

  “Jonathon,” she repeated softly. Her body burned to be next to his, to feel his touch. She tingled with desire and a passion she had never known.

  Jonathon stroked her arm, feeling her silken skin beneath his fingers. His body screamed to take her in his arms, his excitement evident and throbbing.

  “Emily, no,” he whispered huskily.

  Her fingers traced his lips and moved to the nape of his neck. She lightly massaged him and gently ran her fingers through his hair. She leaned toward him, her scent warm and sweet. Gently she brushed his lips, her own parted, then his cheek and the line of his jaw. Jonathon’s passion rose until he thought he would explode, and all the time his mind screamed, “No!”

  Their arms went around each other and their lips met in a hungry, blazing kiss. Emily’s skin felt like silk beneath his hands and Jonathon caressed her back. Their mouths locked in a demanding, fierce kiss. Jonathon traced fiery kisses down her throat and shoulders, and then he dipped his head to trace the full curve of her breast. Emily moaned with desire and pulled his head closer, running her fingers through his thick, wavy hair.

  Jonathon raised his head and held her away from him.

  “Em, I shall hurt you.”

  “No, Jonathon, I want you.”

  “I mean your leg,” he grinned.

  “I do not feel any pain right now, Jonathon.”

  “I imagine you do not.”

  He leaned over her and softly brushed her lips with his. His tongue traced over them and slipped into her mouth. She eagerly met it with her own and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands caressed her back and slid gently to her breasts. He teased her nipples to a taut peak and she shivered in delight. He lifted the blanket and slid in beside her, pressing his lean body close. Emily brushed her hand through the hair on his chest as he nuzzled into her neck. She nibbled on his ear, and her soft breath excited him even more. Jonathon’s hands boldly explored, giving Emily such newfound excitement that she trembled. She began to do the same, at first timidly, then with boldness and delight. Finally Jonathon rose above her and carefully eased between her thighs. Emily gasped when she felt him enter her, but the brief pain was quickly replaced with intense pleasure.

  Their bodies moved together in a delicious rhythm. Then, wrapped in each other’s arms they strained toward that ultimate unity. Emily moaned, amazed at the intensity of the sensations she was experiencing.

  “Jonathon… oh, Jonathon,” she called out, clinging to him, moving with him until they soared in a shimmering explosion of bliss.

  Finally spent, they lay with limbs entangled, in the glow of the fire. Jonathon’s head rested on Emily’s breast, and he traced lazy circles on her stomach. She twined her fingers in his hair and pressed a kiss on his head. Neither spoke for a while.

  “How is your leg, Em?” Jonathon finally said.

  “Wonderful,” she sighed.

  He rose up on one elbow and looked at her. Her hair was wildly tossed on the pillow and a rosy hue heightened in her cheeks. Her eyes glowed a soft periwinkle and she smiled gently.

  “Really, Jonathon. I am quite comfortable,” she said, running a finger down his arm. He bent down and nibbled playfully at her breast, chuckling at the reaction it brought.

  “You are excited,” he said.

  “You seem to arouse that reaction in me.”

  He nuzzled against her neck; his hands gently caressed her. She stroked his hair and sighed in contentment, closing her eyes. Soon their passion raged, and again they satisfied the hunger they both had fought against so long.

  “Emily, are you hungry?” Jonathon murmured against her throat after a while.

  “Mmmm.”

  Reluctantly he rose and pulled the table next to the bed. Climbing in beside her, he sliced some cheese and poured the wine. They ate slowly talking softly and sipping wine from the same glass. Neither was very hungry and soon the food was packed away and they lay in each other’s arms once more.

  “This certainly complicates things,” Jonathon thought aloud.

  Emily pressed her finger to his lips. “Jonathon, we are here together right now and I have never been so happy in my life. I want to bask in the glow of this joy and worry about complications tomorrow
. There is precious little we can do about it tonight.”

  Jonathon rose up and leered wickedly. “Well there is one thing we can do.” Emily laughed.

  Their fevered, pent-up passion had been sated, and their lovemaking this time was languid. Finally, entwined in each other’s arms, they slept deeply.

  • • •

  The early morning sun streamed in across the nestled, sleeping couple. Slowly Jonathon awakened, disturbed at something of which he was not quite aware. Suddenly, he reached beneath the bed for his pistol and aimed it as the cabin door opened.

  “And we were worried about you,” Randy chided.

  Jonathon pulled the blanket up around Emily’s shoulders as she slowly opened her eyes.

  “Jonathon — what is it?” she murmured.

  “We have company, Em.”

  Closing the door, Randy came in, his eyes stormy. “I hate to disturb you two, but Andrew and some others are close behind me. I took the detour to check this cabin. You might want to put some clothes on before they arrive.”

  “Well not with you standing here we will not. Go tell them we are in need of a wagon. Emily has hurt her leg. And Randy, that is all they need to know.”

  “I am not daft, man,” he snarled. “Emily, are you all right?” he asked, a worried frown creasing his brow.

  “Yes, Randy. Jonathon took good care of me.”

  “I can see that,” he snapped and left the cabin.

  Jonathon turned to Emily. “I am truly sorry, Em.”

  “Jonathon, do not be; I am not. Randy is a good friend, he will not say anything.” She kissed him gently.

  “Before we start something we do not want to stop, we had best get dressed,” he said.

  Jonathon’s shirt was in rags as he had used it for her splint, but he quickly slipped into the rest of his clothes and gently helped Emily into hers amidst much giggling, tickling, and teasing.

  “Behave, Jonathon, or the search party will discover more than they are searching for.”

  Straightening up the cabin, Jonathon did his best to make it appear that Emily had slept in the bed and he on the floor. Soon they heard horses approach and Randy’s voice rang out loudly.