Elizabeth glanced over at Nick, striding along with Lizzy on his shoulders. Once in the shade, the child had perked up enough to giggle as she bounced along on her moving perch.
Nick caught Elizabeth's glance and winked.
She blushed and looked ahead at John and Pamela strolling arm in arm. John carried a hefty wicker picnic basket. Pamela had several folded towels tucked under her other arm.
Sara and Mark ran ahead, eager to be the first to reach the pool.
Pamela shook her head at them. "Such energy in this heat." She raised her voice. "Just don't go in the water until we get there."
The children were out of sight when the adults reached the pool, but giggles coming from two separate clumps of bushes betrayed their whereabouts.
Nick waved his hand at the nearest bushes. "Behold the ladies' dressing room."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow toward the other cluster. "Then that must be the gentleman's dressing room."
"Precisely, my dear lady," Nick uttered in dramatic tones, his green eyes teasing her. "Or, perhaps I should say the gentleman's undressing room."
"Nick!" Elizabeth tried to sound disapproving, but ended up laughing.
He threw her another wink, then lifted Lizzy off his shoulders, and patted her in the direction of the 'ladies dressing room.' "Get your sister to help you."
He took the blankets from Elizabeth, then dropped the gray Indian-striped one in a heap on the grass. "Come, help me with this." He jiggled the navy blue bundle.
She took an end, and together they spread out the blanket. John set down the basket on the corner. "Ready, Nick?"
"Just let me lay this one on the ladies' log." He picked up the Indian blanket, folded it, and smoothed it over a fallen tree trunk that had been moved next to the pool. "There, ladies, you'll be able to cool your feet in comfort." He touched his hat, and vanished behind the male "dressing room."
Elizabeth placed her hands on her cheeks. "Pamela, I can't believe we're doing this."
Her friend laughed, sat down on the blanket, and patted the spot next to her. "Come, on."
Still holding her cheeks, Elizabeth walked over and sat down.
"Off with your shoes and stockings, Elizabeth." Pamela started to undo her shoes. "Just think how cool that water will be."
As she complied with Pamela's edict, Elizabeth wrinkled her brow in thought. She couldn't remember ever going barefoot outdoors. "Pamela, before you lived in Montana, did you ever go outside with bare feet?"
"Of course not." She stood up, reached out a hand for Elizabeth, and pulled her to her feet. "Just wait until you try it. The grass tickles, but watch for any sharp stones or sticks."
Bunching her skirts above her ankles, Elizabeth gingerly extended the toes of her right foot and stepped onto the grass. It felt cool and springy. She could feel individual blades tickling her sole. She took another bouncing step, and looked up to see Nick grinning at her.
Gasping, Elizabeth released her skirts to decently cover her ankles, but there was nothing decent about Nick. At a glimpse of his naked chest, pink crept into her cheeks, and her body flushed warmer than the air around her. She glanced down at her toes, but then couldn't resist another look. The sight of the curly brown hair covering his well-muscled chest sent a shiver through her as if she were feverish. I never knew males had chests like that.
John emerged from the dressing room, followed by Mark. John had reddish hair covering his chest, which matched the rusty-gray hair on his head. Pamela should have warned her. No wonder men were often compared to animals. I don’t even want to even think about where else they might have hair.
As Nick had told her on that long ago ride, they all wore trousers with the legs cut off, giving her a view of Nick's muscular calves.
Mark stepped from behind his father and raced toward the pool, his pale arms flailing. "Last one in is a rotten egg." He splashed into the water until he was waist deep. "Come on!" He waved at his father, then dunked under and came up sputtering. Shaking the water out of his face, he grinned at them. "The water's great."
Nick's eyes danced emerald with mischief. "You can't stand there all day, Miss Hamilton. You're going to have to display those lovely ankles sooner or later." He held out a hand to her. "Shall I escort you to the water?"
Pamela had already settled herself on the log and dangled her feet in the pool. Elizabeth's blush deepened as she tried and failed to think of a rejoinder and instead placed her hand in his. Sliding her gaze away from his bare chest, she focused her eyes on the water.
She didn't notice the ground underneath her feet until she stepped on a sharp stone. Wincing, she picked up her foot and balanced on the other.
"Shall I carry you?" Nick's words were serious, but a grin played about his mouth.
She flashed him a flirtatious look. "It's just a few more paces. I'm sure I can manage." She'd walk, even if her feet were on fire. Being carried against that chest would cause more than her feet to burn.
Elizabeth sat down next to Pamela and carefully gathered her blue calico skirt to expose as little skin as possible. She pointed a toe into the water. Cold, but refreshing. She allowed both feet down. Her cheeks remained hot, and, if she'd been alone, she'd have knelt down and splashed water on her face.
The girls, wearing their white cotton shifts, joined them. Sara plunged into the pool and paddled over to the men, clambering onto her father's back. Lizzy hovered near her mother, dabbling her toes in the water.
Elizabeth pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve. "Lizzy dear, will you dunk this in the water for me?" She held out the handkerchief to the child.
Lizzy stooped and spread the material over the surface of the water. Watching the handkerchief float, she poked it under. In playing with the handkerchief, she relaxed, taking a few steps into deeper water. When the material seemed to be wet enough for her, she scooped it into a ball and handed it to Elizabeth.
"Thank you, dear." Elizabeth wiped her face and neck. The cool water soothed her parched skin, but failed to dampen the blushes caused by Nick's half-naked body.
John stood in the center of the pool, the water to his chest, talking to Nick. In shallower water, Mark and Sara splashed one another. Elizabeth's gaze strayed to Nick, who'd slipped behind Lizzy. Grasping the child under her arms, he swung her back and forth. Lizzy's toes skimmed the water, and her giggles punctuated the air.
In fascination, Elizabeth watched his muscles flex as he played with Lizzy. The warmth in her cheeks heated, and she took refuge behind her handkerchief. Watching Nick warmed her inside far more than the Montana sunshine. With difficulty she glanced away from him.
"This is marvelous, Pamela. Why didn't we do it days ago?"
"I never think to do it without the men. They're the ones who go into the water with the children."
"We could still bring the children ourselves. Mark and Sara swim well, and if something happened, the water's not so deep that we couldn't go in ourselves if we had to rescue them."
"We'll have to try it."
"Then we wouldn't mind the heat." Elizabeth became more animated. "I could paint, and you could embroider while the children played in the water."
"It certainly would be cooler," Pamela agreed.
It would be cooler without a certain almost-naked male body frolicking in the water. Although she wasn't sure she'd ever visit this pool and not remember Nick.
#
The next day, Elizabeth stood at the table in the quiet kitchen arranging the flowers she'd just picked in a crystal vase. She chose a rosebud, inhaled the sweet fragrance, then tucked the stem into the edge of the vibrant grouping.
The sound of footsteps caused her to look up and see Nick walk through the outer door. He doffed his hat.
"Mighty beautiful, Elizabeth."
Warmth crept into Elizabeth's cheeks. "Thank you, Nick. I'm trying to enjoy the garden before the heat kills off all the flowers."
"Just let me know if you need help watering. I know that's a tirin
g task for you and Miz Carter."
"The children are a big help. Even Lizzy carts her tiny pail to splash drops on her plants."
He smiled at the thought, then held out a letter. "Something from Boston."
Elizabeth glanced at the address and saw her brother's scrawled handwriting. How odd. He hadn't written her since she'd arrived here, instead sending messages through Genia. She tore the envelope open and began to read.
Dear Elizabeth,
Eugenia has been having difficulties with carrying the baby. In the morning, she feels quite ill and is also suffering strain to her delicate nerves. Doctor Sherman was here today and ordered complete bed rest for her until the baby is born.
I cannot withhold from you, my dear sister, of my uneasiness of mind about her health. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my beloved wife. I implore you, please return home to be with us during this perilous time. With you by Genia’s side to comfort and succor her, I know she will safely weather these next few months until she can deliver our child.
Laurence
P.S. Don’t mention any of this to Genia. I’d like your return to be a pleasant surprise for her.
Go back to Boston? Oh, no. Thinking furiously, Elizabeth pulled out a chair and sat down.
Nick's voice penetrated her thoughts. "Bad news?"
"You know Genia's expecting?
He nodded.
"She's having trouble with ... the doctor's ordered her to remain in bed. My brother writes--" she briefly glanced down at the paper "--in a florid style quite unlike him ... begging me to return home to take care of her. He seems to think my being there would help."
Nick looked stricken. "You'd leave?"
Blindly she reached out and straightened one of the roses in the vase. "I'm sure it's my sisterly duty."
"But is it what you want?"
No, no, no.
"It's not about what I want. There's the responsibility I have to the baby." She tried to smile. "I do want my niece or nephew to arrive safely in the world. If I wasn't there and something happened, I'd never forgive myself.
"I know about living with that kind of guilt."
Elizabeth looked closer at him and saw old sorrow in his eyes. She opened her mouth to ask.
Seeming to anticipate her, he rushed on, "You don't have to stay away. You can return here after the baby's born. Course that's midwinter. You might want to wait 'til spring."
She rolled the stem of a rose between her fingers, trying to sort through her reluctance.
"I don't know what to do, Nick. I'll have to spend the next few days thinking about it."
Because I can’t bear to leave.
#
As he left the kitchen, Nick swallowed down the dryness in his throat. He hurried into the music room, grabbed up his violin, and left the house. Although he'd planned to work with Outlaw, the horse could wait.
Outside, he climbed the pasture fence, careful not to knock his violin on the wooden rail. He headed toward his thinking rock; the dry grass crunched under his feet. The horses clustered in the shade of the trees, so nothing impeded his straight line to the rock.
He needed to do a quick rehearsal before he could let Elizabeth know of his feelings. Yet, lately he'd been too busy to actually play much. The lack of practice might cost him dear. When he played his composition for her, he would need the best performance of his life.
Nick settled on his rock, tucking the violin under his chin. While he tuned the instrument, he took the time to go through the music in his mind. Then he sat and played, stopping and starting, running through sections over and over, dissatisfied with the results.
Finally, he gave up in frustration. Too hot to remain on the rock, he slid off, then strayed over to the horse trough under the trees. Once in the shade, he set the violin on the grass and pumped out clean water. Cupping his hands, he scooped some up, wet his face, and took a long drink.
Cooler, he lay on his back, trying to figure out what was wrong--besides Elizabeth's probable departure. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of grass and horses, to ease the tightness in his chest. His thoughts wormed into the knot in his stomach, attempting to untangle the heavy mass. But it took another series of breaths before he recognized the fear and pain constricting his innards.
He'd lived with these emotions for a long time after his family had died. Later he had dared to care for the Carters, but it wasn't the same as his feelings for Elizabeth.
He'd chosen to open his heart to her, knowing he had only a slight chance of her coming to see him as husband material. But recently he'd been gaining ground on Livingston. He'd become hopeful that with time.... Now he wouldn't have that time.
What if she leaves and never returns?
Then he'd always be alone because he could never love another woman like he did Elizabeth.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
With a sigh of irritation, Elizabeth kicked the sheet off her warm body. She raised herself up on an elbow and turned her pillow over, hoping to find a cooler spot, but no use. The moonlight streaming through the open window could just as easily have been the bright rays of the sun. With little fanning motions, she pulled her cotton nightgown away from her chest.
Having to make a decision to return to Boston wasn't helping her repose. Her thoughts had tumbled around in her head, and her body had tossed and turned for hours.
Think of snow. Snowflakes drifting down to trace lacy patterns on her hand. Pristine snowdrifts, perfect for laying back and making angels. Icy wind reddening her face and numbing her hands and toes. What she wouldn't give to hold a snowball and run it over her cheeks, down her neck, and between her breasts, feeling the ice melt into dribbles tickling as they ran down her stomach and sides.
Her feverish body refused to respond to her cool coaxing. She'd been hot for days. Would this heat wave ever break? Elizabeth thought back to the afternoon spent at the pool--how she'd longed to cast aside ladylike behavior and join the men and children in the water. But instead she'd had to content herself with wetting her feet.
If only I could be there now. With a dreamy smile, Elizabeth imagined herself at the pool, wading into the water, her nightgown floating around her. Perhaps Nick...
She sat up abruptly. She wouldn't let herself think improper thoughts about Nick! Although she had to admit, the recollection of his bare chest made that resolution difficult. She waved her hand in front of her face. Such memories made her even hotter. Shaking her head, she slid out of bed, and stepped to the window in hopes of a breeze.
Below her the moon's glow bleached the familiar view into silvery shadows. Elizabeth strained for the slightest flow of air, but felt none. With another sigh of frustration, she plopped down on her bed, her thoughts straying back to the river. How refreshing to dangle her toes in the water. As if wading into an imaginary stream, she pointed her foot at the floor.
Well, why not?
Elizabeth stood. She could go to the pool and take the dogs for protection. It was certainly light enough to see her way. She wouldn't even have to get dressed. Everyone else was asleep.
Before she could change her mind about her impulsive decision, Elizabeth pulled her necklace over her head, set the locket on the dressing table, slid her feet into slippers, and crept out of the room. Moving through the still house, she let herself out the kitchen door.
Shep and Sally rose to their feet. As they rushed to greet her, their nails clicked on the wooden porch. Moist noses pressed into her hands, followed by soft licks. As the dogs became excited at having a late-night playmate, they pressed forward, their tails thumping against her legs.
"Shush, Shush," Elizabeth whispered in case their exuberance led them to bark. She stepped off the porch, then turned and patted her leg. With a few short bounds the dogs joined her.
As she strode into the gray darkness, the familiar surroundings took on an eerie air. She shivered, almost deciding to return to bed. But the sticky skin beneath her nightgown goaded her toward the river.
Flashing a smile at the bright orb overhead, Elizabeth threw out her arms and spun around. During those last lonely months in Boston she'd felt so hurt and angry. The warmth, love, and attention she'd found at the ranch had been healing. Yet now, she enjoyed the peacefulness of the quiet evening.
Shep parked himself in front of her.
"I know, I know. I look crazy."
The dog's tail made a thumping sound in the dirt as if to say, "What are we waiting for? Let's go."
She reached down and patted him. "You're right. The water's waiting for us."
The dogs trotted on ahead. With a spring in her step, Elizabeth followed. The burbling of the water cascading over rocks reached her ears before the scent of dampness wafted to her nose. She inhaled, enjoying the change from the dusty smells of the dry earth.
Reaching the river first, the dogs lapped some water, then ranged upstream.
Elizabeth crouched, and scooped water into her palms. Splashing it onto her hot cheeks, she then ran a wet hand around her neck. She repeated the process several times, ignoring the water dripping on her nightgown, plastering the material to her skin. How delightful. But not enough. She continued downstream toward the pool.
Rounding the bushes of the "ladies dressing room," Elizabeth saw a movement in the pool and realized she wasn't alone. With a gasp, she shrank into the bushes, hoping not to be seen.
Wild Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series) Page 20
