“No, you idiot,” he said, tucking it into Reagan’s pocket. “You’re smoking it.” Artemus grinned as he patted the pocket. “You’re going to be a father. Congratulations.”
Reagan’s jaw dropped. He stared at Amanda who was now giggling. “Is it true?” he asked. “Are you going to have a baby?”
Everyone waited breathlessly until she nodded. A gleeful clamoring erupted as Reagan knelt and took her hand. “My darling,” he breathed, pressing his lips to her palm. “This is just too wonderful!” Amanda laid a hand on his shoulder as Katherine quietly motioned for everyone to leave.
“At first, I was afraid to say anything,” she said smiling. “But now, I don’t mind if the whole world knows.”
“My love,” Reagan suddenly choked. “You’ve given me a gift beyond my wildest imaginings!”
“Does this mean our marriage is legitimate in every sense of the word?” Amanda raised a brow. “After all, you did marry me for my dowry.”
Reagan pulled her to her feet and touched her face. “That’s what I told myself. But in truth, you captured my heart and I couldn’t live without you. I think I’ve loved you from the start.”
“You had a funny way of showing it,” she said. “After I discovered your chicanery, you became sour as an old drunk and twice as crotchety.”
Reagan grinned, dropping a hand to her derriere. “That’s because I was mad with lust. How else could I be in your presence and not ravage you?”
“If you suffered, you deserved it twice over,” she said. She pushed away his hand and made her way to the bath chamber.
A knock prevented his reply and Reagan opened the portal to Lela who was holding two more buckets. “I’ll take those,” he said relieving her of her burden before shutting the door. By the time he entered the chamber, Amanda had disrobed and was lowering herself into the tub.
“Mmmm,” she sighed. “This feels wonderful!” Seemingly unconcerned Reagan was viewing her nakedness, Amanda lay against the rim and closed her eyes. Reagan took several moments to admire her perfectly shaped body before pouring the remaining buckets into the tub. A few drops splattered her face, causing Amanda to open an accusing eye. “Hey,” she said, flicking water at him. “You did that on purpose.”
“No,” he laughed, splashing back. “That was on purpose.”
Soon, their playful antics had water covering the floor as well as Reagan’s clothes. “Well, my dear,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. “I see you’re itching for a fight!”
Amanda observed his garments fall one by one. “What are you doing? Don’t you dare get into this tub,” she said, bracing her arMs. “This bath is mine and I’m not sharing it.”
Reagan pried her fingers loose before stepping in and when she tried standing, he grasped her shoulders. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said, pressing her back. “You escaped from my bath once before. You shan’t do it again.” After settling in front of her, he picked up the soap.
“But Reagan,” she protested. “Our parents are awaiting breakfast.”
His eyes danced as he lathered his hands. “Then let’s get going, my love.” Amanda sighed but remained still while he ran soapy fingers down her back. Inching closer, he placed her arms around his neck so he could better reach her waist, and when she didn’t resist, he lifted her onto his lap. He then wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her against him. “That’s better,” he murmured, nuzzling her ear.
Amanda wriggled pleasurably at the intimate contact. “Oh, you devil,” she said, playfully biting his neck. As his lips found hers, he pressed her even closer, seeking that place where he felt complete and Amanda’s love filled his heart.
Chapter One Hundred-Three
A light but determined knock interrupted Sheriff Hadley as he wrote a report on the investigation and capture of Orville Farnsworth, alias Derrick Banning. Though there were gaps in the story, Jim believed he had more than enough evidence to exonerate Reagan. He would present his evidence before the court, where Judge McCleary would determine whether Orville should be tried for murder before returning to New York to face embezzlement charges.
Opening the door, he looked expectantly at a young woman. “May I help you?” he asked.
Clutching papers to her bosom, she gazed hesitantly at his badge. “Are ye th’ sheriff?”
Hadley stepped back. “I am. Please, come in and have a seat.” After she sat, he retook his chair. “What can I do for you?”
“M’ name’s Agnes McGregor, but most o’ me friends call me Aggie,” she said, setting her papers down. “I’ve got something you’d be wanting. Something I held for a friend o’ mine.”
“What are they?”
“They’re documents that were given t’ me for safekeeping.”
He unfolded the topmost item and then looked up in surprise. “Where’d you get these?”
Aggie swallowed several times before opening her mouth. “Not that long ago, a girl I knew, came t’ me home. Her name wuz Molly-”
“Molly Carnes?” Hadley was instantly interested.
“That be her name,” Aggie nodded. “We had a falling out, and I told her I wuzn’t gonna be her friend no more. But she came a’knocking, late one night.”
Jim unfolded the other papers, scanning their contents. “Did Molly say how she came to be in possession of these documents?”
Agnes dropped her eyes. “Molly worked in th’ saloon so she could snag herself a rich man. I told her no gentleman would take t’ th’ likes o’ a saloon gal, but Molly eventually became a-a-” Agnes turned pink as she struggled to utter words forbidden to her.
“Let’s just say a lady of the evening,” Jim offered kindly.
Agnes wiped away a tear. “That night she wuz real scared. She said she had t’ git away from a man she’d been living with. She wuz carrying his babe-”
Jim could scarce believe his luck. “Did she say who the father was?”
“Orville Farns-” Agnes struggled to recall, “-Farnsworth.”
The sheriff sat back, amazed. “Why didn’t you come forward sooner?”
“Molly told me t’ hide th’ papers afore I wuz t’ meet her at her pappy’s farm. When she didn’t show up, I came back home and heard she wuz dead. I wuz scared t’ tell anyone, not knowing who kilt Molly. I waited t’ see if Orville got pinched. But, when Mister Burnsfield wuz put in jail, I knew I had t’ give th’ papers t’ you, because Molly weren’t afraid o’ him.” She raised tearful eyes. “I just got them out o’ hiding, and come straight away.”
“You’ve been a good friend, Aggie,” he said gently. “Molly was lucky to have someone like you.”
Tears spilled down Agnes’s cheeks as she pulled out a hanky. “She weren’t really a bad girl, just stupid, is all. Molly wanted better for her baby. She said she took th’ papers t’ start over.”
Jim rose. “These documents will be extremely valuable in bringing to justice the man we believe killed Molly. I’d very much appreciate it if you could return tomorrow to give your statement to the judge.”
“I’d be most happy to,” Agnes said.
After she left, Jim placed the contracts in a small safe. He then sat down to rewrite the report, a smile about his lips.
Chapter One Hundred-Four
Beauregard looked wounded as Reagan placed the spoon back in his fingers. “But, mon ami, I’m going home today. And though I love ma mère with all my heart, she’s not so fair to look upon as chéri.”
Reagan smiled, placing both hands on Amanda’s shoulders as she sat near Beau’s bed. “I really think you can feed yourself, my friend. You’ve been doing it for nearly a week.”
“True,” Beauregard said, stirring his soup before winking. “But, there are times when I feel weak. And that is when I’m in need of the services of a beauteous demoiselle.”
“Then I must have Doctor Turner return for another examination,” Reagan said, feigning concern, “because you’ve had a weak spell every day this week.”
Beaureg
ard jabbed his spoon in the air. “Non, only when certain les fleurs come to visit.”
Amanda smiled in amusement, for Beauregard had rapidly improved the last two weeks. Just this morning, the doctor declared the Frenchman fit enough to travel. Once his noon meal was over, he was going home. “I’d have to say,” she said, “I never realized how many women know you. Every day, there’s a steady stream of female visitors from breakfast to dinnertime. You’d have thought there wasn’t another man within fifty miles.”
Beau settled his eyes on Amanda. “That’s because Madame has never fully experienced mon’s charms.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late,” she said as she patted his hand, “since I’m already taken.”
“Oui!” Beauregard sighed, setting aside his tray. “It’s always the beautiful bird that gets caged. But, I don’t think I’ll be as quickly shackled as my friend,” he said, eying Reagan.
Amanda was quick to object. “Oh, I don’t know. Of all the young ladies, surely, you could find one or two to your liking.”
“I’d have to say, he’s rather enjoying the attention,” Reagan interjected. “I’ve never known the French to seek one female, when a cluster would better do.”
“Ahh,” Beauregard clasped hands behind his head. “Spoken like a true Parisian. ‘Qui se marie à la hâte se à loisir.’”
“What did he say?” she asked. “And don’t lie. He’s too smug to have said anything nice.”
“If my French doesn’t fail me, he said marry in haste, repent at leisure.”
“Oh!” Amanda slapped Beauregard’s leg. “Are you saying my husband regrets marrying me?”
Beau’s eyes shone. “Actually, it is I, who most regrets Monsieur Burnsfield has married you. But, since you’re not available, I must distract myself with many other demoiselles.”
Reagan looked sternly at Beau as he helped Amanda from her chair. “Don’t let your pea-sized brain forget that, either,” he said, placing an arm around her waist. “I still don’t share my most prized possessions, not even with you.”
“I shan’t forget,” Beau said, looking fondly at the couple. “Even though wise men are sometimes foolish, I won’t play the fool.”
Reagan and Amanda nearly made it to the door when Beauregard quipped wickedly under his breath. “But only a fool never changes his mind!”
Epilogue
Elizabeth sat by the fireplace sipping fresh tea. A new quilt covered her knees, evidence of her Aunt Emmaline’s belief that idle hands were the devil’s workshop. A letter lay on her lap she had written to her father, claiming the weather too cold for travel and explaining that perhaps she needed an extended vacation after all. His dear sister, Emmaline, was a bit lonely and quite anxious to have her stay for the winter.
As Elizabeth stared into the fire, Emmaline concentrated on her needlework. Though she disapproved of her niece’s conduct, she would take care of Elizabeth just as she’d always taken care of her brother, Sam. Still, she detested lying to her friends about her war-widowed niece who was expecting late this winter. Emmaline felt it her duty to instruct her niece on the vices of a hell-bound life and insisted Elizabeth read from the Bible, loud enough for Emmaline to hear while about her tasks. It was a small price to pay, Elizabeth decided, for having a secure place to stay until her babe was born.
As Emmaline stitched a colorful tapestry, Elizabeth felt her life equally stained with her own threads of betrayal. She rested a hand upon her unborn child as it moved beneath her fingers.
Reagan’s child.
The End
I live on an Indiana farm with my husband, two of my four children, a dog and a barn cat. When I'm not writing or hauling grain, I enjoy canning food. Before writing my first book, I worked twenty-five years in the medical field of Optometry. During that time I wrote a human interest story in a medical newsletter and have had my poetry published in Speer Presents.
Although writing is my first love, I'm devoted to our military and am honored to organize a yearly event where our community sends care packages to soldiers overseas. Their bravery inspires me.
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