Westbound Awakening

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Westbound Awakening Page 8

by Hildie McQueen


  "You're father is a wise man," Ryan replied eyeing the women who'd quieted and attempted to hide their smiles behind their hands. "Care to share what you find so funny?" Ryan asked, only to have the women to begin laughing anew. "Yes, best to leave them be."

  John watched Mae wipe tears away as she attempted once more to stop giggling. He'd never heard her laughter. It was a sweet, musical tone. And he wasn't aware she had such deep dimples in her cheeks. If he thought her beautiful before, now flushed and eyes sparkling, she was breathtaking. The stubborn woman caught him looking at her and pressed her lips together, instantly sobering. Patricia looked to him as well, and she continued to smile. "I'm sorry, we can't share it's something only women would find funny." Mae nodded in agreement, although she no longer smiled.

  Ryan cleared his throat and motioned to John with his head. "Go on now. Spend some time with your wife, talk to her. Show her some affection." The man was intent on giving him advice on how to make amends with Mae. He'd informed him he was not demonstrative enough and did not show Mae sufficiently how he felt about her. John almost told Ron the truth just to put a stop to the marriage advice. Not deterred, the clergyman insisted on using his experience of ten years of marriage to help.

  John stood and went to Mae. "How about we go for a short walk dear?" He asked, half expecting her refusal. Instead she looked to Patricia as if for permission or advice.

  Ryan's wife pursed her lips and gave Mae a soft nudge. "Go on Mae. Listen to what your husband has to say."

  Mae stood and attempted to move ahead. John took her hand in his and held her back to walk beside him. Her eyes were full of questions when they lifted to his. It wasn't surprising to him when she remained quiet. She was still angry.

  When they moved out of earshot, he stopped and turned to her. "I'm going to kiss you Mae."

  "What?" She looked over to where the Jacobs sat and back to him. "Why?"

  "Ryan is worried I'm neglecting my husbandly duties." Without preamble, not giving her an opportunity to protest, he leaned to her and pressed his lips against her. Her lips were soft against his. When he pulled back, she watched him with narrowed eyes. His heart quickened when her eyes flitted to his lips.

  "I'm sorry Mae," he maintained eye contact with her. "I should have told you earlier about my situation. Explained it so there were no misunderstandings between us later. I was wrong not to be fully honest with you. Let's just get through these two weeks. We should be in Texas by then. By month's end, we will arrive where your father lives. Afterwards, we'll continue our separate ways."

  "Stop apologizing John. We don't have to speak of it any longer," Mae told him flatly. "It doesn't matter. You didn't have to share anything with me. I have no right to be angry with you. Your private life is your own. And you are correct; after this week, we may never cross paths again, so let's forget about it."

  The words should have made him feel better, but instead hollowness lodged in his chest and he couldn't think of an appropriate reply. She linked her hand through his arm. "Let's go back and eat. I'm tired and want to go to sleep early."

  He didn't budge. "I'm glad you've become friends with Patricia Jacobs. Perhaps you two can remain friends in Texas."

  Mae nodded. "Perhaps. They are not going to be living too far from my father's ranch. I haven't decided how much time I will remain there. I don't plan to stay long enough to make any friends. But I do feel a kinship with Patty and hope we will continue our friendship no matter if I return to Virginia."

  He could only nod, not sure he could speak. That her words affected him so much surprised him. In a few days, they'd part ways and it should be a welcome relief. Instead he dreaded the day they went in separate directions. Her face was still flushed from laughing, a stunning sight, and he pulled her into his arms half expecting her to resist. With a soft sigh, she laid her cheek against his chest and slumped against him. It felt right, having her there and for a few moments they remained silent, the only sound the subtle breeze rustling the leaves overhead.

  "If you need anything Mae, don't hesitate to send someone into town to find me. I will remain there for a few days until I take care of some business." His voice sounded husky in his ears, emotion filled.

  She pulled back and arched a brow, the curve of her lips an enticing sight. "I won't John. You have to find your family and start your new life. My father is ill, and I don't foresee any problems. Just in case, if for whatever reason there is any kind of trouble, I will buy the stagecoach fare and return to Virginia."

  They walked back to where the Jacobs sat, both sets of eyes locked to their hands which they held. Then Patricia gave them a wide smile and turned to Ryan who nodded approvingly at John. If they only knew. What he and Mae had just done was say good-bye.

  "Is your father expecting you?" John asked Mae as they lay in the dark wagon the following night. "Is there someone there to greet you besides him? Ensure your safety?"

  Mae sighed. "Yes, John. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're worried about me with all the questions you're asking." She chuckled softly. "Miss Lady wrote them to tell them of my arrival. And yes, there is someone, a woman named Elma, who is taking care of him, his caretaker. Now let's sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day." Seeming more at ease now with his presence alongside her at night, she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Good night John."

  He turned toward Mae and warm breath caressed his face. "I do worry about you. I care Mae."

  The need to taste her became unbearable. John gave in, did not have the strength to resist the temptation. When he kissed her this time, it was impossible to stop. Yet reason left and all he knew was if he didn't hold her one last time to touch her and feel her softness against him, rest would not come on this night.

  Mae must have felt the same way by the urgency by which she returned the kiss. The world could have gone up in flames and he would not have noticed. He wrapped his arms around her waist anchoring them against the too strong current.

  Mae's hands slid over his shoulders to wrap around his neck and released a soft moan from deep in her throat. Any thought vacated, and all he knew was this woman represented everything he'd dreamed of since the day he'd first lay eyes on her. Mae felt exactly the way he'd known she would, fitting perfectly against him, her softness against his hardness, yielding and giving to his taking.

  The heat in the small space became intense and their mouths refused to separate. The exploration of each other was far too enticing to draw back from.

  The river of temptation began to pull him under until he couldn't breathe. John stopped kissing her, and closed his eyes holding Mae against him while he waiting for their breathing to stabilize. How could he ever let her go? This feeling with her was like no other he'd experienced. A loud sigh escaped him, and he began to trail kisses from her neck, to her throat, then back to her jawline only to stop when he tasted the salt of her tears on her face.

  "Don't cry Mae, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" She placed fingers over his mouth stopping his words.

  "Please don't say this was a mistake. I don't want to hear any remorse. Not tonight."

  She released a heavy sigh and pushed her face into the crook of his neck. While holding her against him, he urged her face up to his. "It's not a mistake Mae, and I'm not sorry this kiss happened. I will never forget how you make me feel tonight. Thank you." He kissed her again this time a soft kiss, which he hoped, conveyed all he felt.

  He continued to hold her, her head on his chest until she fell asleep, while he stared up into the darkness.

  In her sleep, a shaky exhalation sounded, and he soothed Mae again. His heart pitched in his chest when she wrapped her hand around his arm as if ensuring he remained there with her.

  He would for this night. He would stay forever, If only he could get past knowing she'd slept with many faceless men, exchanging her enticing body for money. Not to mention, not only did he have the weight of having to find his child hanging over him, a feeling of foreboding he could not
shake loomed over him. The pain in his leg was back, constant like before. For some reason, he felt as if his life would be affected by the injury, perhaps even killing him.

  "You and the missus seem to be doing better," Ryan told John the next morning when they shared a cup of coffee. Dang if he didn't blush at the remark. John could only shake his head when the other man laughed at him. "We are."

  "Good morning." Mae neared the coffee pot and poured a cup and then joined him on the log. Dressed in a simple blue muslin dress, with her hair in a braid down her back, she looked to be at ease, her face peaceful. She offered to refill their cups, and they held them out for her. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe she was in actuality his wife. His alluring partner.

  When she blushed at his regard and smiled at him, his chest expanded with pride.

  The next week passed easily. Each night they'd developed an easy routine of discussing different experiences in their lives. This evening John lay on his back with an arm under his head he looked to her. "Who's taking care of your business while you're away?" He asked.

  "Miss Lady and her daughter Lucinda will take good care of it. James helps with the books, so I'm not worried. Thankful actually to have three people I trust inherently." She began to explain the logistics of her business and astounded him speechless. She was an acute businesswoman who kept a close eye on expenses, balanced her ledgers routinely and ensured the needs of every person who worked for her was taken care of.

  "I'm impressed," he admitted. "I'd need years of training before I could take over my father's business. You could walk in and take over immediately."

  Mae chuckled. "I doubt it would take you years. Many months maybe."

  They laughed, and John wondered if this was how a husband and wife spent their nights. He'd overheard the Jacobs' laughter on occasion, and it assured him to see that he and Mae too seemed to enjoy their hours alone.

  The routine suited him more than he expected, and John had to admit he cherished their nights alone and the closeness they shared. The only difference in the passing days was he never kissed Mae again, not since the night when things had almost gone too far. Once one of them became groggy with sleep, they'd say goodnight and he'd roll to sleep to his side, his back to her.

  Days later when they crossed the Texas border, Mae become more withdrawn, and he gave her space. She needed to prepare herself for what was to come. She'd not mentioned her father again, which made him wonder if she would turn right around and return to Virginia once rested from her travels.

  Dread loomed. Somehow he knew once separated from Mae, his life would change and not for the better.

  11

  The size of Hawkins Ranch on the outskirts of Hastings, Texas, her father's lands, was impressive. Mae lost count of how many fields filled with cows or planted with crops they rode by. The road toward an expansive farmhouse was lined with pecan trees with branches so heavy with nuts that they spilled over onto the well-packed dirty road. Her heart pounded inside her chest and she placed her hand over it. How would she be greeted?

  Drained after a tearful goodbye with Patricia and Ryan, it took all her willpower not to beg John to turn the wagon around. Patty was optimistic, promising they'd visit soon, since they were less than a day's ride away, just on the other side of the small town of Hastings.

  The amount of new sensations slamming into her in quick succession shocked Mae, and she wanted to buckle over and get sick. This had to be was the hardest day she'd ever experienced next to the one when her mother died.

  John must have sensed her anxiety because he covered her hand with his and squeezed it gently. "It's a beautiful place. You'll be welcomed here and be just fine."

  It was the first time since the night they'd kissed he'd touched her. Since then, they'd slept back to back after only a few cursory statements. Of course it was for the best and she would miss him terribly.

  Mae let out a shaky breath and pulled her hand from under his. "The sooner I face him the better. Then I can make a decision as to whether I will remain or not." Mae did not address his comment about the ranch. It was her father's property, and she had no desire to take it over.

  As soon as the wagon pulled up to an expansive whitewashed ranch home, the front door opened and a smiling middle-aged Hispanic woman followed by a large man who looked to be in his thirties came toward them. The man assisted Mae from the wagon. "Welcome Miss Hawkins. We're glad you made it safely. I'm Alan, your father's ranch hand." His friendly hazel eyes met hers briefly, and she found calmness in them.

  "I better go help," Alan said after touching his hat and went to help John unload. John was already hauling her trunk toward the front porch. The ranch hand followed with her picnic basket and the other few things she's brought.

  "You look like your father," the woman beamed at her and took her hands. "I am Elma." With a round face and bright brown eyes, Mae was further eased by the woman's smile.

  Alan assisted unhitching Mae's horse and left with the beast towards where she assumed the barn was.

  "Well that's it," John told her having returned to stand next to the wagon. He did not face her, but instead looked toward the porch where Alan was now pulling in her belongings through the door.

  "This is John McClain who escorted me from Texas," Mae introduced him to Elma who began insisting he come inside for coffee and to rest.

  John shook his head. "It's best if I get on my way, get to town before dark." His eyes met hers for a beat before he removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm not far. Send for me if you need anything." He went to the wagon and climbed onto the seat.

  "John," Mae spoke to his back. He stopped but did not turn.

  Seeming to understand they needed privacy, Elma scurried to the porch.

  Mae walked around John and stood in front of him. He looked down at her, his impression impassive. "Thank you for escorting me," Mae began. "Please go see about your leg."

  John nodded and remained without moving, seeming to wait for her to continue. She had so much to say, too many emotions churned inside that, if given free reign, she'd double over and falter. Instead she lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. "Goodbye John." She turned away and didn't stop until she stepped inside the house, closed the door behind her and slumping against it.

  The darkened foyer was flanked on both sides with matching tall mahogany chests with gilded mirrors over them. Further down the hall, on the right, a large grandfather clock with a swinging pendulum counted off the seconds. Mae wanted nothing more at the moment than to fall into a bed and sleep. Cry from grief and exhaustion.

  The sounds of the horse's hooves at a trot became softer taking John further way from her with every passing moment. How was it possible? She missed him already.

  Elma rounded the corner. "Oh Senorita, you are inside. Come let me show you to your room. I will draw you a warm bath. I expect you would like to get some rest." The woman continued chatting, her cheerful disposition helping keep Mae from allowing sadness to engulf her.

  Pointing out rooms as she went, the woman guided Mae down a wide hallway. Since most of the doors were open, Mae peered in as they passed to find a large kitchen, a formal dining room, a study and two bedrooms. Elma stopped at the larger one. Her bags were already inside. "Senor Hawkins is asleep. He will not wake until morning. I gave him a sedative. His bedroom is on the opposite side of the house." Elma's lips curved to a soft smile. It did not reach her eyes and she fingered the hem of her loose blouse. "He will be happy to see you tomorrow. Today you bathe, eat and rest."

  Elma pulled long curtains back, the setting sun lightened the large room and Mae took the opportunity to look around. The room was inviting with a large bed covered in off white linens, on one side side, a rustic tables. On the opposite wall from the bed, there was a large vanity, on it a mirror and brush set as well as a vase of fresh blue wildflowers. She went to the window and looked out. Across the vast expanse of land she spied some trees and flowe
ring bushes. A garden.

  "It's lovely, thank you Elma," Mae told the woman who watched her with expectation.

  When Elma left with a promise of tea and a hot bath, Mae remained at the window. The view was indeed beautiful, definitely a repose after days of hard travel. Her gaze traveled to the plush bed, but she did not move toward it. No matter how much she wanted to throw herself into the bed and find the escape of slumber, it was not the time, not now.

  Later that night, Mae jerked awake and looked around confused until she realized the space was a large bedroom and not confined space of the wagon. It felt too large without John's warmth next to her. Her hand slid across the bed to the empty space; the sheets were cold under her palm.

  He'd not told her how long he would remain in Hastings. "A few days."

  Were the woman and son there?

  Was John laying next to her now? Was she happy to see him?

  No doubt anyone in a relationship with John would be ecstatic to see him again and welcome the handsome man with open arms. With an angry growl, she rolled away and yanked the blankets over her shoulder.

  "Elma! Come now!" The hoarse shouts permeated through the fogginess of sleep and Mae instinctively knew it was her father. "Elma!"

  Not too far, a door opened and hurried footsteps followed. Then nothing else. Mae considered if she should get up and see what was needed, but decided it was best to wait. There was no rush to face him and if he was having a hard time, she could possibly upset him further.

  Restless now, Mae sat up and scanned the dimly lit room. She had to admit the house was elegantly decorated, no doubt the doing of her father's wife.

  The time alone earlier had given her time to think. It was best if she spoke to her father, do what had to be done in quick order and remain only a few days before heading back to Virginia. This place was not for her.

 

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