by Jillian Hart
" 'Tis done. I just set it off the heat." Thomas set the platter of food on the table. "How is Father?"
"His cough did not sound good." Jonah filled a plate for Tessa. He didn't know what she liked, so he chose both ham and sausages to go with the eggs. And a slice of pumpkin bread and a piece of tasty looking streusel. "I don't want you gluttons eating all the food whilst I'm gone."
"If you walk away, you're taking your chances," Andy teased with a mouthful of streusel.
"Strike me dead," Thomas roared. "I cannot believe our fearless hero of a brother is fixing a plate for his wife."
"Aye, look how tenderly he set the sausages next to the egg."
"Mayhap he is in love."
"Enough," Jonah commanded. "Love has naught to do with it. Tessa is tending Father. She cannot care for him on an empty stomach."
"See how he blushes?" Andy piped up. " 'Tis lust then."
"Lust is a safer emotion than love, my brother." Jonah swiped a glass of cider from the table. "Andy, you're eating all the sausages. Come with me and fetch the kettle from the hearth. Tessa needs hot water."
"What I can't believe is that you seem satisfied with the match." Thomas stood and handed Andy a hot pad. "Jonah, I know you married her for Father."
"Aye, and right now she is at his side. 'Tis a good match, brother. Try not to scare her with that ugly face of yours when you see her next."
"Too late," Andy quipped. " 'Tis why she thinks you so handsome, Jonah. Poor Tessa looked at Thomas first and even you looked good in comparison."
"How is he?"
Tessa wrung the last bit of herbed water from the basin. "Resting now. He feels warm, but the fever has not returned, at least not yet. I fear it may."
Jonah knelt beside her, both strong hands resting on his knees. "I want him to recover."
"As do I." She saw the worry in his eyes, dark with fear. "You know I will do all I can, for he is my father now, too."
His throat worked. "Aye, that he is. No one could tend him as well, Tessa. Or do so much. I'll always be grateful."
"As will I." The morning had stretched away, a weary time of worry and work, for she feared the worst. If the colonel worsened, then he was far too weak to fight another bout of fever. And yet, Jonah had been there, bringing her breakfast, fetching water and wood, letting her know she was so valued.
She'd tended many ill in this village over the years and had mostly been an outsider intruding into a family's circle, seeing their innermost struggles and problems. Now, for the first time, she belonged.
And all because of Jonah.
"A ship is in at the docks." He reached up and brushed a straggle of hair from her eyes, such a tender gesture. One of a loving husband for a wife. "I know Father is ill, but you have been here since dawn. Mayhap you want to go down and see what they have for sale."
"There's nothing I need more than to take care of your father." It touched her, that he would offer her this. "He could worsen at any minute. Besides, another ship may dock tomorrow. Or next week. I have all I need."
"But we're without a house servant and there may be some on board. I think you should decide if there is anyone suitable, as you will be overseeing her."
"But there is not much to do here. Surely I can-"
"Nay, Tessa." He laid his hand on her shoulder, and his touch sizzled. "I didn't bring you here to work like a servant for us. I'm not like your grandfather, and I will always despise that man for how he treated you. You are my wife now, and you need not work for a roof over your head."
"Oh, Jonah." He truly cared for her, just as he'd said. He loved her, it was written in the gleam of emotion in his eyes, in the gentle bass of his voice. His touches claimed her, and she remembered how he'd treasured her in their chamber last night. How he drove her to such surrender, to sure, unbearable pleasure. Only love could do that.
"Andy and Thomas will stay. Father is resting well now. He will likely do so for a few more hours."
"But I'm not so sure-"
"A new servant is necessary. You've seen how my brothers and I live. Pigs are less slovenly."
"Aye, I had that thought myself." How his kindness made her chest ache, made her heart hurt sweetly.
"See? You'll be saving us, for if cleanliness is next to godliness, we are in deep danger of losing our souls."
"That's been my opinion for a long time." Barely able to restrain her smile, Tessa laid the rag to rest in the basin. "I guess duty calls. I'll find a servant and hope 'tis enough to redeem you."
"You are an angel." Laughing, he stood and held out his hand. His big strong hand that engulfed hers so easily with the thrilling texture of his male-rough skin.
After leaving careful instructions with both Thomas and Andy and after agreeing to wear the cloak Jonah had given her, Tessa stepped out into the weak sunshine with her hand on her husband's strong arm.
The village was not that far of a ride, and the wharf with the wide gray river lay just beyond. Many walked along the common road, and Tessa felt their gazes as Jonah guided the small wagon past
"Looks as if news travels fast." He leaned close.
She shivered as his shoulder brushed hers and stayed there. A small connection, but it made her feel stronger. "Aye, there was much speculation when it was learned you were returning to Baybrooke to marry, as your father requested."
"I'm surprised anyone would even remember me, I had been gone so long."
"You're the eldest son of the colonel, so respected in this town." Tessa's chest tightened. "And there were many who thought they had a good chance of being your bride."
"I bet many didn't think that I would choose you." He smiled then, one that was a blend of warmth and bedevilment all at once. "I am an unpredictable fellow."
"You take pride in that, I see." How good he made her feel inside, in her heart that had been lonely for love. "You married me because my grandfather thought I was compromised."
"I didn't have to marry you." His eyes darkened, and some of the teasing ebbed from his eyes, like sunlight behind leaden clouds. "Your grandfather still wanted you to marry Horace Walling. I had to pay both men handsomely to convince them otherwise."
"Usually the bride brings something to the marriage."
"I do not want a dowry, Tessa. You're prize enough."
He valued her that much. She felt her throat fill and stared hard at her mittened hands. Tears burned beneath her eyes, tears of such great happiness. Who had thought all those years horrible Jonah Hunter had teased her in dame school, then ignored her as they both grew to adulthood, he had harbored these feelings so strong, he had married her, wanted her above all others. He valued her, thought her a prize.
No one, not even her beloved mother, had said those words, made her feel so special. The warmth in her chest grew, expanding beneath her ribs so that it burned in the hollow of her throat, beneath the spot where her collarbones met and her pulse beat fast and fluttery.
"You've done so much for Father." He took her hand in his and only then did she realize they were at the river.
Villagers crowded the wooden dock, faint sunlight glinted on dark water, and a ship with three furled sails waited patiently for the next breath of wind.
"Come, let's see if there is a servant here who will suit you."
The din of the crowd nearly silenced as Jonah lifted her from the wagon. She could have climbed down herself, but she didn't want to miss any opportunity to feel his touch, even here in a public place where so many eyes watched and wondered.
"It seems to me we ought to look at the fabric, too." He took her hand, and his touch never left her as he led her through the staring crowd.
So many of the people she knew and many she'd tended when they were ill stood gaping at her. Or turned to whisper to one another-the Sandersons who had lost their aged aunt early this winter, the Carpenters, whose daughter nearly died when the strange fever had swept through the village last year, and more, so many more.
"Major Hunter,
welcome home to Baybrooke." The innkeeper, Bernard Sawyer, extended his hand.
"Bernard, 'tis been a long while. Still serving that swill you call ale?"
"Aye, that I am." The ruddy-faced man tipped his hat to her. "Congratulations, Mistress Hunter, on your recent wedding."
"Thank you." Strange it was, to be greeted as Jonah's bride. And yet she was proud to stand beside so handsome a man, who treated others with respect. Some people in the village believed themselves to be finer than others because they had more money and wore better clothes, but not Jonah.
"Look, the captain has spread out his yard goods on that board table." Jonah, taller than she was, could see more easily through the crowd. "Now, no protests allowed. I want to see my wife in something other than dreary colors. Go ahead, pick out what you like. I'll go see what kind of servants are aboard ship."
Jonah squeezed her hand before he left. Her heart thudding, she watched him weave through the milling crowd, his gait steady and determined, his shoulders broad, especially when compared to so many other men's. Today his dark hair was swept back and tied at his nape, and an unruly shock tumbled over his brow. She saw him in profile speaking to the ship's captain.
"He doesn't love you, you know."
"Violet." Tessa spun around. She'd been so intent on watching Jonah she hadn't noticed anything else.
"Everyone is saying it. He would have married me if you hadn't tricked him." Violet's mouth twisted into an ugly sneer that seemed to drain all the natural beauty from her face. "I was the one he came to see after morning meeting that Sunday. Me. Not a sour-faced old maid who had to act like a harlot to snare a man's last name."
"She's right." Charity sauntered up behind her daughter, mouth pursed, eyes hard. "You ought to be ashamed to show your face among decent people. I have had Ely speak with the selectmen of the village. While you were working your wiles on poor Major Hunter, you were breaking curfew. Not to mention acting lasciviously. There are penalties for that."
Tessa clamped her mouth shut. Horrible, unspeakable words burned on her tongue. Her hands fisted into tight balls of anger. She had endured Charity's cruel tongue and mean spirit for far too many years, and she would not do so any longer. She itched to speak her peace, for once, without the threat of being kicked out into the street, but she could not. She would not embarrass Jonah that way, or herself, by losing her temper.
"Excuse me, Charity."
"You're not going anywhere until I've had my say." The woman darted around her daughter, face set, marching like a soldier to the front line. "You have been the bane of my existence for the last ten years. You shoved your way into my house with that weak mother of yours-"
"Don't say one word against my mother," Tessa hissed, careful to keep her voice low. "You have no right, you who have not lifted a hand to perform a single domestic task for most of those ten years. I chopped the wood and I made the meals and I did the laundry and I made soap and candles and thread for the weaving. So not one word, Charity."
"You are likely to be no better than your silly mother, a foolish weak-willed simpleton who could not see the man she married had a use for her. Not love, a use for her."
" 'Tis enough, Mistress Bradford." Low that voice, rumbling like thunder over a valley, sure and strong and laced with warning. "I could hear your accusations all the way to the water's edge. And I assure you, I never set my sights on your shallow daughter. I married Tessa by choice. Anyone who says differently will answer to me."
Charity shrank at Jonah's quiet, controlled anger. The crowd silenced, all eyes turning toward them, waiting for what was to come next. Violet's face puckered into tears.
Tessa stepped forward. "Jonah, 'tis all right. Vicious words cannot do much harm."
"You're wrong, but I will not argue." He took her hand, his touch reassuring.
Her heart soared, and the warmth in her chest deepened. Her affection for Jonah grew steadily brighter with each breath and with every beat of her heart.
Chapter Eleven
"Andy, do not stare at Anya." Tessa halted behind Andy's chair at the table and whispered low, so the slender young woman heating wash water at the hearth could not hear. "She is uncertain enough about a new situation, so it would be best for her not to have a man drooling from his chin every time she walks by."
"I do not drool!" Andy snapped his jaw shut, teeth clacking.
Jonah could see more denial on his brother's face, but the young man held it back, still afraid enough of Tessa. "Andy, I saw a drop drip off your chin. My advice is to swallow now and then."
"Aye, 'tis advice you should heed." Thomas struggled not to laugh as he stood from the table. "Tessa, is Father awake?"
"I just left him and he's sleeping. Fitfully. Mayhap he would rest easier with one of his sons at his side." Her gaze landed on Jonah.
He felt the uncomfortable accusation. "I will go, Thomas. Stay and keep an eye on Andy." He lowered his voice. "I would hate to have that poor girl slip in a puddle of drool."
"Jonah, 'tis not funny. I have not teased you about drooling after your wife." Andy stood, hands balled tight.
He laughed. "Aye, we can drool together. Sit down and ask her for a cup of tea."
"I had best act as chaperone," Thomas observed quietly. "Tessa, you could have chosen an ugly old woman. There would be less complications."
"She was the one I liked." Tessa smiled at Thomas as she swept on by, a beautiful smile that Jonah suspected until now, only he had seen.
Jonah watched surprise mark Thomas' face. One dark brow quirked. His Tessa was beautiful. Fatigue bruised the delicate skin beneath her eyes, but the years of hardship and strain had vanished, replaced by a beauty that was more than skin deep.
He watched as she poured steaming water into a basin, her movements efficient and swift, but graceful, too. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulder as she spoke low to the new indentured servant, a young woman, still practically a girl, without family, who had, he suspected by the sorrow in her dark eyes, been sold to the ship's captain somewhere along the way, mayhap illegally. It happened often enough.
He did not question his wife's choice. Mayhap she saw something he did not in the plain, pale-faced girl who would not look up and meet anyone's gaze. Anya worked hard, already he could see proof of that, and the meal she had cooked so that Tessa could remain with Father was some of the best food he'd had in many years.
Tessa led the way up the stairs. He could not lift his gaze from the sway of her rump beneath her dark skirts. His groin still ached with the need they'd built up early this morning. He wanted her more than air to breathe.
"Thank you for insisting I needed help around here. 'Twas thoughtful of you, for I've always been the one doing all the work alone. 'Twill be good to have someone to share it with."
His conscience twinged. He had bought the servant so Tessa could devote more time to Father. But he was glad, she was pleased. When she twisted around to smile at him, her eyes glittered with happiness, unveiled and bright. 'Twas the same way she'd looked when he'd prodded her into choosing several lengths of new fabric.
"I never thanked you for what you did today."
"For what? Pushing you up against the bedchamber wall and working my way beneath your gown?" Teasing was easier than facing the emotions beneath.
"You're an incorrigible man. I was referring to the way you handled Charity. How you stood up to her. No one has ever done that for me. Ever."
"I only spoke the truth, Tessa." He fought the tug of deeper emotions, of ways he had not let himself feel for so long. "I never had my eye set on Violet Bradford. I'd have run screaming all the way to Boston rather than wed a cold-hearted chit like her."
A small, satisfied smile touched her mouth, a smile he wanted to kiss until she melted against him. "Thomas will watch over Father tonight. Mayhap we can head to bed a little early."
"Nay, I need to keep watch on Samuel." She used Father's proper name with quiet affection, as gentle as dawn. "He appears to
be doing a bit better, but I'm leery. I know in my heart I need to watch carefully for any sign of the fever returning."
Half aroused already, he gritted his teeth against the building desire for her expanding in his breeches. He'd been thinking of little else all day, of stripping her in his bed and feasting on the sweetness of her breasts, of listening to the growing urgency in her moans, of her restless body rising up to mate with his.
But Father was the reason why he'd married her in the first place. So the old man would have the care he deserved in these last days of his life.
He sighed, resigned to a night without passion. There would be time enough for making love. Tessa strode down the corridor and into Father's room, her skirts swishing, and beneath them, the tantalizing sway of her hips and thighs.
The old man looked up from his pillows, and laughter crinkled in knowledgeable eyes. "You look like a hungry wolf, son. Don't suppose 'tis something you can tell your father about?"
"Nay, and you well know it."
Jonah watched Tessa set the basin on the night table, her movements lithe and graceful. The brush of her fingers to the water's steaming surface reminded him of her feather-light touch across his chest. The twist of her mouth into a smile made him taste again the heat of her kisses. The flicker of her gaze to his reminded him of their joining, when she stared up at him from between heavily lidded eyes.
"I left you sleeping." She settled down at the bedside, her face tender.
"Aye, I awakened to find my angel of mercy had left me."
"I needed more water. I could fetch you some broth."
"Nay. I have a craving for real food and you'll not let me have it." Father's hand, strong and straight even with age, caught Tessa's. "It did me good to see you and my boy married. To think he harbored a fondness for you all these years. I well remember him as a little schoolboy racing home many afternoons complaining of his muddy breeches and blaming sweet little you."
"I shoved him, all right." She laughed. "Trust me, he deserved it."
"Little boys always do." He winked, a weak smile coming to light his face. How his eyes twinkled. "Now my son is giving you a different kind of tumble, and he pleases you, judging by the color in your cheeks."
