Ford, Jessie

by Remember Me Love

  Aaron heard her slip out of the room, opening his eyes slowly, feeling stiff from the unrestful position he'd chosen. He inhaled the unfamiliar aroma of the food Rosa had brought them, feeling suddenly famished. He glanced at Louisa before he stood up, noting she seemed to sleep soundly, but when he reached above her for eating utensils she turned over and opened her eyes. Aaron smiled at her sleepy stare, and at first she smiled broadly, her eyes full of warmth, hands pushing her tousled hair away from her face. Then it was apparent she remembered where she was and her wide, welcoming smile disappeared.

  Aaron ignored her change of heart. "Hungry?" She only nodded, starting to rise. "Me, too. There seems to be plenty―even for two starving people. What is it? Do you know?"

  Louisa surveyed the pot. "Wild herbs and roots, potatoes, onions, some sort of fresh game―squirrel, probably―sometimes it's best not to ask. Rosa will soon bring us some mint tea. I'm practically drowned in it―it's a restorative, she says!"

  "You've done fairly well―from all that I hear."

  "I remember your saying I'd never survive in the country. I surprised us both." Her smile returned briefly as he filled a bowl with the hot stew, and they both ate greedily.

  "If only the elite of Monterey could see us now," he grinned between mouthfuls.

  Louisa laughed. "Can you imagine William Easton stooping to this cuisine! I think he'd rather starve."

  "He's a fool, but I suspect you're right. This fare suits me as well as anything from his table."

  "Frankly, I wouldn't mind a good Southern breakfast sometime soon," Louisa sighed.

  "Getting soft so soon?"

  "And a good bed, and a hot bath, and . . ." She seemed to drift off.

  "You'll have all those things in a few days, I promise. The carriage is at a ranch nearby. I think we can leave day after tomorrow. I have to meet with a friend, but we should be on the road by the end of the week." Aaron paused a few minutes before continuing. "Louisa, the charade must begin again."

  She stiffened and sat more erect. "Yes, I know," she said quietly.

  "That'll mean sharing my bed, permitting me certain public familiarities―we're married, remember. With all that's happened we'll be even more the subject of gossip."

  "I should think my experience might excuse me from the public eye. That's what I intend."

  Aaron frowned. "I suppose you have that choice. I won't insist you do otherwise."

  "And a separate bed."

  "If you wish."

  "I wish."

  Aaron's frown deepened, and he tossed the last crust of his bread into the empty cooking pot with obvious disgust. "Kindly don't be too difficult, Louisa. I've still a lot to do to get everything Washington wants."

  "I don't expect to interfere with any of it."

  "You have already."

  "I beg your pardon," she said coldly.

  "Remember, we have a truce, Louisa. All I'm asking is reasonable cooperation. I'll be very busy when we get back, and I'll not spend much time in your bed―you forget I have other interests―besides, husbands and wives often share the same joyless bed."

  "We're not husband and wife."

  "You get my point, nevertheless. It may not be possible to sleep separately in Melville's house. I'm just warning you in advance."

  "You're in San Francisco?"

  "I left Monterey right after you did."

  "With Marguerite?"

  "That's right."

  Louisa gave him a hateful look. "The colonel?"

  "He remained behind to see to his duties."

  "And you, no doubt, found ample duty of your own."

  "Ample." They stared at each other. "You understand what I said? I expect you to live up to the charade at least marginally. I promise not to impose on you, except when necessary. And not in bed―unless, of course ..." he smiled.

  "There will be no 'unless,' I can assure you," Louisa hastened to inform him.

  Aaron's smile faded. "A truce, remember?"

  Rose appeared then, and Louisa dutifully drank the steaming fragrant tea. "It's almost a ritual," Louisa whispered to Aaron when Rosa left. "She credits it with stopping the severest of my bleeding; I must've drunk gallons by now! But it's very pleasant, don't you think?"

  Louisa was smiling again, and Aaron basked in the friendliness of her smile as long as he could. "Come on, let's take a walk in the cool night air," he said, picking up her blanket from the straw, wrapping it around her shoulders. "We won't go far."

  Louisa was very agreeable, taking his arm when he offered it, and they walked a little way from the camp and sat silently listening to night sounds of frogs and crickets, the occasional howling of coyotes, and the rustling of the breezes in the tall grasses nearby. Aaron sat behind Louisa and she leaned against him comfortably and watched the stars. "Do you remember any of them?" he asked.

  "Of course, I do!"

  "It was a long time ago."

  "I've an excellent memory. Tm not as simple as I look," she snapped.

  Aaron laughed. "Simple you're not!" he said with feeling, and Louisa couldn't help but laugh at the way he said it. He put his arms around her and hugged her gently. "Truce?"

  "Truce," she promised easily.

  Chapter Eighty-three

  WHEN they returned to the camp, they said nothing, made no further bargains, and slept the long night next to each other. Since they didn't need privacy according to their agreement, Aaron took down the blanket door and used it to cover the straw mattress for further comfort, and they lay down using Louisa's blanket for the both of them. At first they were restless lying together in the darkness, but soon enough Louisa fell asleep, and Aaron followed her not much later. Twice she woke, sitting up with a start, and Aaron was aroused by her alarm. He soothed her quickly merely by telling her who he was, and she lay down again without much hesitation. "The nights aren't always easy," she whispered after the second interruption of their sleep.

  "I know," he said, wanting to pull her against him, to make the night more bearable, at least for him. But with effort he kept his hands to himself. Not much later, he was pulled from a very heavy sleep by her weeping. She tossed feverishly, and muttered words he could not distinguish, yet she did not wake. This time he touched her, and moved against her, calling her name, trying to reassure her. She seemed to relinquish her nightmares, but didn't wake. And he held her close with no further sleep for himself in the few short hours until morning.

  In the first light Aaron sat up and began to watch her, noticing for the first time the faint pink lines etched erratically in her usually perfect skin―the only visible scars from her experience, he thought, remembering she'd said she'd plunged herself into thorn bushes trying to escape Ben and Jack that night. He noticed a smudge of dirt on her chin, and considered the rags she wore. It reminded him that in spite of the last two wakeful hours pressed against her, and his normal response to her closeness, she was only human after all, not some bewitching mythical goddess. But the fact remained, his senses were not convinced.

  She had taught him the real meaning of sensuality and desire, and those lessons were not easily, if ever, forgotten. In the faint morning light, with a gossamer mist sifting over the valley, covering them silently as it drifted into the open room, Louisa seemed more delicate and beautiful than he remembered. He longed to touch her, to lift her against him, to' feel her eager and responsive in his arms. He reached out to her, then hesitated, his hand stopping in midair. "I love you," he said, the sound of his voice drowned in an early greeting from the songbirds that filled the oak trees surrounding the primitive whitewashed house.

  Louisa stirred, moving closer to him as he dipped his hand in the luxury of her satin curls. How often he had stroked the wonderful softness of her hair, how often he had nestled with her, the both of them draped in shimmering cascades of fragrant silk. Suddenly he clenched his fist, crushing those golden strands in his grip. It was a mistake, he cursed silently, a mistake to spend the night here next to you. God, w
hat a fool I am! He knew for certain it would be one of those cold days in Hell before she would give herself to him again. She'd been very clear about it. He felt nearly ill with longing, his body all too willing, but he would never again force her into his embrace. And when he thought of the brutality she'd recently known, his desire was slackened by anger and pity and sorrow, and, for the time being at least, the spell she cast over him was broken.

  She'd exacted his promise, and he would not touch her, unless―unless. He smirked to himself, thinking of the days ahead, lying in the same bed with her. He would see to it she had what she wanted―a separate bed, so he might get some sleep. Yet, he thought, just knowing she was under the same roof would probably be enough to give him many sleepless hours. He would have to make certain he exhausted himself with Marguerite. And remembering the woman's capacities, he was reassured that with proper effort on his part, he should have no trouble sleeping, even with Louisa next to him. He'd done it before, but, he recalled, not without effort and concentration.

  Louisa woke to see him sitting next to her with a bewildered look on his face. It surprised her, and she smiled, raising herself on one elbow. "Didn't you sleep well?"

  "All things considered, I slept very well."

  "Sorry. I often have difficult nights."

  "A very good argument for separate bedrooms."

  "Why, yes, it is."

  "I'll do my best to get you one," he promised, but not for the reason she assumed. "After I have something to eat, I'm going after the carriage. Then I'll get you some clothes, along with provisions for travel. With luck this will be the last night you spend here."

  Aaron spent the rest of the morning collecting the carriage, finding Emil Joseph on the same road. Ellison's ranch was in Joseph's portion of the territory they'd divided up for searching and the trail he followed brought him to the same destination that morning as Aaron. Aaron returned to the Indians' camp, sending the other man on with the carriage to provision it for their travels. When Aaron returned, Louisa seemed happy to see him, and after a light meal at noontime, he lifted her onto his horse and they went to buy her a more suitable traveling wardrobe.

  She rode in front on him, savoring the feel of his body, even in the sweat-producing heat. It seemed to her they'd slept very close to each other the night before. She had no specific recollection of her nightmares―they were all too common once again―but she did think she recalled being held in Aaron's arms, her memory seemingly full of the sensations he usually evoked in her body. Her vow that she never wanted another man was, in its way, not a lie. In fact, she wanted no other man. She wanted Aaron. But not under the terms he offered. She would not share him whatever the reason, noble cause or not. She suddenly stiffened in his arms at the thought of Marguerite and the woman's oh so-coy, so-solicitous ways. Louisa could just imagine how beguiling she could be, and how cheerfully Aaron―this admitted pirate―would succumb!

  "What's the matter?" inquired Aaron, when she suddenly sat erect and as far away from him as possible in the saddle, for no reason he could fathom.

  "Nothing at all!"

  He didn't bother to reply, not exactly sorry to have the disturbing pressure of her soft body against him decreased, especially since he knew there was no hope of relieving the hardness she aroused in him.

  When they arrived in the dusty town, their appearance drew more than a few stares. Louisa was an unusual sight, ragged and barefooted, and, in spite of it, disarmingly beautiful. Speculation as to what she might do with her charming body drew a fair number of catcalls and whistles before the two newcomers could enter the general store. It was obvious the storekeeper's wife had second thoughts about serving these customers, but the clatter of Aaron's gold coins on her counter dispelled any doubts she had. The selection of women's garments was decidedly poor, and more for the thick frame of the storekeeper's wife than Louisa's little figure. Louisa was nearly in tears as she considered traveling to San Francisco in what she now wore on her back.

  It was a silly thing to be upset over, but at this point in time she was not beyond being unreasonable."I can't wear any of these things!" she said tearfully, tossing aside everything but a small stack of bloomers and two inferior muslin chemises. She found a pair of shoes, and two pairs of stockings. The only garters available were more suitable for display on the legs of a dancer in one of the saloons they'd passed, but she tossed them impatiently into the small pile she was managing to assemble. "If they stare at me in this costume, I wonder what kind of reception I'd get in San Francisco if I arrived in just my underwear?"

  "You'd get some reception, believe me. We wouldn't get within fifty miles of the city before you'd be stolen again."

  "Well, what am I going to do?" she asked seriously, collecting a hairbrush, several bars of "decent" soap, and a quaint bonnet, thinking for once she'd had enough sun on her face.

  The scarlet garters gave Aaron an idea. "Are you sure you can't manage with something here?" he asked impatiently.

  "I'd rather not."

  "Well, I've two other ideas," he said, paying for the things Louisa had reluctantly selected, waiting without further comment until her purchases were bundled in coarse brown paper and tied with string. Then he took her arm, and ushered her to the noisiest saloon on the main street.

  "I'm not going in there," Louisa huffed when he pushed open one side of the swinging doors for her to enter.

  "Yes, you are," he insisted, taking her arm roughly. Her sudden presence in the barroom produced absolute silence within seconds, then robust cheers when her sorry condition was properly surveyed. Louisa blushed furiously, and gave Aaron the most scathing and furious look he'd ever seen on her face, but she practically stood on his boots trying to get closer to him and his imagined protection. When he went to the bar, Louisa walked next to him as close as she could manage.

  "I want to speak to whoever is in charge of the girls upstairs," Aaron announced. Louisa could barely believe her ears.

  "What for?" she demanded in obvious disbelief.

  "First door up the stairs," replied the bartender giving Louisa a cheerfully wicked leer before Aaron could reply. Louisa put her arm through Aaron's and followed him up the stairs without another word. "She'll be a nice addition," was the man's parting comment, and Louisa sucked in her breath.

  Estelle Handy was the name of the establishment's madam, and she was dressed perfectly for the part. She was well past her 'prime, but comfortable in her domain. She was asleep when Louisa and Aaron knocked persistently at her door. She bellowed at them, but they would not be dissuaded, and finally she greeted them with puffy eyes, quickly rouged cheeks, and none too carefully arranged hair. She wore a white satin, feather-trimmed dressing gown. It could have been made for a lady of high fashion, but it clung unflatteringly and comically to Estelle's sagging and bulging flesh.

  "I'd like to buy some clothes from your girls, if you have what I want," Aaron began.

  Estelle looked at him in surprise, as if she weren't fully awake, and as if she'd not understood him correctly. She looked at Louisa with the same curious expression. "You planning to set up competition?"

  Aaron smiled broadly. "No. The lady needs some traveling clothes, and could find nothing to her liking at Parson's store."

  "I have to special order with the dressmaker, or from Parson's." She went to Louisa and gathered her oversized dress tightly at the waist and across Louisa's breasts and hips. "Ya sure you're not going to set up business?" she asked of Aaron again.

  "Positive!" Louisa answered for him.

  "Well, haven't got anything that'll fit exactly, but Fancy'll have some things that'll be close enough." She reached for a key ring hanging over her dressing table. "Have a seat. I'll be right back."

  "Leave it to you to think of such a clever solution!" Louisa was not exactly pleased.

  "Do you have a better idea, Princess?"

  "I'm afraid not," she sighed.

  Actually the dresses Estelle brought back fit her reasona
bly well―a little tight through the bodice and a bit loose at the waist, but otherwise just fine, and not badly tailored. Louisa approved of all three dresses Estelle brought to her, and Aaron paid, rather handsomely, for them.

  "I'm afraid you were robbed," Louisa said, clutching her carefully folded dresses on the way back to camp, "but I thank you." She was anticipating a bath with the scented soap she'd bought at Parson's, and the luxury of nice clothes on her body again; already thinking about more comfortable surroundings in San Francisco, more familiar food, and a softer bed. She leaned easily and absently into Aaron's willing arms, falling asleep against his chest in the very warm afternoon. Aaron's horse walked slowly bearing his passengers, Louisa's sleepy head filled with very pleasant dreams, and Aaron very wakeful with the very same notions crowding ant any other thoughts.

  Chapter Eighty-four

  SAN Francisco was not quite what Louisa expected, but Peter Melville's stone house overlooking the city was just what she'd imagined. Surprisingly, she wasn't as tired as she thought she'd be after a two-week journey, but she feigned fatigue to be left alone as much as possible. After Aaron saw her settled, she rarely encountered him. At first she had a separate room in Melville's house, but when the house filled up with guests, Louisa found herself in Aaron's bed again, often sleeping with his heavy arm thrown over her body, finding it easier to sleep that way than to wake him. And safer too. Initially, Louisa was determined to forbid his touching her, but her struggles to wake and convince him she had meant what she said had only aroused him almost beyond either of their abilities to resist. Now she lay tangled with him quietly when, and if, he joined her in the bed, protesting his closeness only in the light of day and safely out of his reach.