Grace

by Peggy McKenzie

  She didn't deserve his duplicity and lies and he didn't deserve her trust.

  She brought the trout to the table and placed his on his plate. She returned to the stove and brought the pan of biscuits, the aroma made his mouth water before Grace ever got the food to the table.

  "I found this jar of preserves at the back of the cupboard. I don’t think it has turned to sugar. At least not the top part. It should be delicious with the butter on the biscuits."

  She stood next to the table and rung her hands in her apron. "I'm sorry the meal isn't more..."

  His conscience couldn't take her apologizing for...this meal. For anything. "Grace. Please. Sit down. The meal looks wonderful."

  He hung his head. "If anyone should be asking for an apology, it’s me. I should never have brought you here."

  20

  Grace remained stoic for the remainder of the day. All through breakfast, lunch, and now the supper dishes, she went about her routine as if it was just that, routine.

  But her life was anything but routine. Tension permeated the air between her and John. No matter how hard she tried, no matter what she did to prove her worth as his wife, John Malone was having none of it. He needed a wife. And she was willing in every sense of the word.

  The thought surprised her when she realized just how much she wanted to stay with John. Be his wife. Work beside him to build a life they could both be proud of. Have his children. The thought made her stomach somersault.

  She stole a peek at her husband's profile. He was hunched over the table sharpening his knife. She was pretty sure it didn't need the attention.

  "I'm tired. I’m going to bed. She turned and then hesitated, determined to let him know how she felt.

  "I apologize to you that I’m such a big disappointment. I thought when you realized just because I made my living in a saloon, that didn’t mean I was a woman of loose morals. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to live up to your high standards. I’m done trying. If you can’t be happy with me—then it’s best you take me to town at first light."

  John kept his eyes on his task moving the sharpening stone back and forth across the blade. The sound irritated Grace's already taunt nerves. If she had hoped he would protest her words and beg her to stay, he proved her wrong. She turned toward the bedroom but the sound of John’s voice slowed her footsteps.

  "Goodnight, Grace. I’m sorry things— “

  She couldn’t listen to another apology why he didn’t find her good enough to be his wife. She didn’t wait for him to finish.

  21

  Grace closed the door between them. She wasn't certain what he had intended to say but did it matter? She was exhausted. And there was nothing left to talk about. It wouldn’t matter what she did or how hard she worked, the man did not want her.

  Sadness crept into her heart and zapped every ounce of energy she had left. She changed into her nightgown and unwound her braid, brushing its length until her arms grew tired. She should braid it back. It would be a tangled mess in the morning if she didn’t but she couldn’t make herself care so she slipped between the icy sheets instead.

  Grace had worked to set the cabin right after John’s accident. Supplies were put away. She cooked and cleaned for the man, hell she had saved his life and nursed his wounds. But nothing she did made any damned difference. Now she just wanted to sleep. Tucking her nose under the covers, she searched for comfort. For warmth. For a place to belong. Soon her body's warmth wove its way into the sheets and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

  Sometime during the night, a sudden awareness sharpened Grace’s consciousness. She knew she was no longer alone. Still as a stone, she soon realized there was a solid warm presence pressed against her back. John? What was he doing? And more importantly why was he in her bed when he had done nothing but reject her at every turn?

  She could hear his soft gentle breathing in the dark. He was asleep. Disappointment crowded its way into her thoughts. It was the only bed in the house and he simply needed a place to rest his battered body.

  The thought did little to comfort her as she lay against her husband's hard planes. She wanted to stay as much as he seemed determined she go.

  Her arm had fallen asleep underneath her pillow and she desperately needed to change positions. By tiny measures, she worked her tingling arm out from under her pillow and straightened it leaving it exposed to the cold room air. She shivered.

  A subtle change in John's breathing caused her to still in the darkness. He was no longer asleep. She held her breath.

  His deep masculine voice rumbled in the dark. She felt the vibration in his chest against her back. "Grace?"

  She hesitated. Should she pretend to be asleep? To what end? "Yes." she whispered back.

  "I hope I didn't startle you. I tried to tell you I might be sharing the bed tonight but you closed the door, and the temperature outside is frigid, and it's the only bed, so... I hope you don't mind if I join you.”

  "I understand the practicality of this arrangement, John. I'm not a simpering debutante with stars in her eyes. I know the way of our situation. You have made it clear at every turn that you do not desire me to be your wife and there doesn’t seem to be a damn thing I can do or say to sway you from your decision.”

  She turned toward the wall and stuffed her face into her pillow before her emotions let loose and she embarrassed them both with her tears of self-pity. It astonished her how she could grow so fond of this man in so short a time. Had it only been a few days since she promised to love, honor and obey him for the rest of her life?

  “Grace?”

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to know my decision not to stay married has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. Please don’t think I find you wanting. Because…I don’t.”

  Grace’s heart skipped a beat, her breath caught in her throat. What was he trying to say?

  “You don’t what, John?”

  She held her breath waiting in the darkness for his response. “Find you wanting. I don’t. Not at all. You are beautiful. And there’s nothing more I would like to do than take you right here and now in this bed in the middle of the wilderness. Just you. And me.”

  Grace waited to answer. She didn’t want to scare him off so she kept quiet. She rolled to face him.

  His hand caressed her face. She leaned her cheek into his touch and held his hand against her face. She snuggled closer to him.

  “Your hair is down,” he whispered, his words reaching out to her in the darkness. She sensed a vulnerability in him she hadn’t heard before.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I was too tired to braid it—. “

  “Don’t be sorry, Grace. I love your hair. It does things to me.”

  Grace felt the mattress sink and John’s weight shifted in the bed. The next time he spoke, his voice was closer, his quiet words whispered against her cheek. Chills pebbled over her skin.

  He fisted her hair. She inched her way a little closer to her husband’s massive frame. She could feel his hardness in the dark. Heat pooled at her core. Careful to avoid hurting his wounds, her fingers gently reached out and touched his muscled chest. Hard planes, dips and curves with a sprinkling of crisp chest hair caused every nerve fiber in her body to ignite.

  “Grace, this isn’t a good idea, but I can’t seem to stop wanting you near me.”

  Realization hit her deep in her chest. She wanted John. Not just physically. She didn’t want to leave him because—she loved him.

  Loved him? When had that happened? Perhaps when she thought he would die during the bear attack? Or afterwards, when he was so weak and needed her care? Did it matter? She needed to convince John he was worthy of a second chance at being happy. She needed to make him fall in love with her.

  John’s senses were on overload. Grace’s fingers, soft and trembling, reached out and touched him. He was so surprised at her boldness he didn’t stop her. Not that he really wanted to. He lay still in the darkness barely brea
thing as he felt her touch.

  Her fingertips grazed over his chest. A fingernail traced his nipples sending a jolt of desire to his lower region. He was on a slippery slope at the moment. He knew it. But he couldn’t seem to make his body leave this bed. He didn’t think he could if his life depended on it.

  A sudden tingling sent goosebumps all over his skin. Grace had traced an imaginary line from his right nipple to his hip bone. She was being so careful to avoid his injuries. Funny. He didn’t feel any pain. Unless you call the exquisite feelings in his lower region caused by the pressure building pain. This is not a good idea.

  “Grace, I…”

  He felt the bed jostle and in an instant his wife’s naked body was pressed against him, leaving no doubt in his mind he was in big trouble. Her breasts, full and round, fired a heat deep in his belly causing his manhood to rise hard and stiff. Much more of this and he would be in pain. He could feel the tickle of crisp hair covering her most intimate parts against his thigh. His mouth watered.

  John lay still while he warred with his emotions. His mind conjured up all kinds of reasons why he couldn’t subject this woman to a life of danger. And he wouldn’t get her with child. He wasn’t going to see another woman he cared about die that way. It was too painful for him to watch.

  “Grace, we can’t…”

  Grace wasn’t listening. She threw herself on top of him and straddled his body. She might as well have struck him in the gut with a pole axe. His heart stopped cold. Her moist hot core fit neatly against his manhood as if the two parts were of the same puzzle. He almost lost his mind. What was he thinking before Grace had joined him? He couldn’t remember.

  “Grace…” he gasped and his hands went instinctively to her hips. She leaned down, pushing her breasts hard against his chest and he felt the long silky strands of her hair surround them.

  And then, his little wife, kissed him. He could tell she was tentative at first but before he could gather his wits about him and stop her, she pushed her sweet tongue into his mouth. He was lost. Her breasts against his chest. Her mouth invading his. And her hot wet core pressing against him in the most intimate way. There was nothing left to do but surrender to this amazing woman. He knew if he did, there could be no turning back but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He had let this go too far.

  He lifted his wife up by her hips and impaled her. Dear God, he was going to embarrass himself right here and now. Grace leaned down and pressed her breasts against his chest impaling herself even further. He heard her gasp and hesitate but almost immediately she began to move up and down him.

  “Jesus, Grace. Please don’t move. Not an inch.”

  John concentrated hard. Finally, he felt confident enough he could control himself and he began to move. Grace steadied herself with two flat palms kneading his chest muscles. He could barely feel her weight.

  He didn’t think she answered him but he couldn’t be certain. He was lost.

  His wife began to ride him. Friction created heat. Her softness against his hardness. The fire between them climbed higher and higher, until he heard her cry out into the darkness. He followed close behind.

  22

  The next few weeks were heaven for Grace. Her husband seemed happy with their union although she sensed he still carried guilt about the death of his first wife. It had been a terrible accident. Grace didn’t know much about babies and birthing and such, but it did seem odd that a healthy young woman would suddenly go into labor and have such dire consequences.

  Grace was no stranger to tragedy. She watched her adopted sisters deal with their own tragedies. But, as Reverend Baker often said when he tried to make sense of these horrible events, “Sometimes bad things happen to decent folks.” He wanted the children under his care to know they weren’t being punished. They were loved even though sometimes it didn’t feel like it.

  She was beginning to believe the reverend. Grace knew she had completely and utterly fallen in love with her scruffy husband. Perhaps in time, she could convince him to trim up a little but until then, she would love all of him just as he was.

  “How long do you think it will be before we can go into town? I need to let my sisters know that I’m a happily married woman and maybe make arrangements for them to come and visit.”

  There was no need to scare her husband to death by telling him her three sisters were waiting for the word to come to Creede and live with her and her new husband. Especially when their marriage was so new. So fragile. No, she would wait. Then she would enlighten him little by little. It wasn’t that she was being dishonest. On the contrary. She knew when to lay all her cards on the table. And now was not the time. Their love was too new. It needed time to grow.

  John stood and looked out the window. “I think tomorrow I can hitch the wagon and take it up the road to see how deep the snow still is on the dark side of the mountain.”

  “Dark side? Of the mountain?” Grace had never heard that term before.

  “Yes, dark side. That just means where the sun doesn’t shine to melt the snow. It’s colder and the snow takes longer to melt.” He smiled at her. Her heart hiccupped. She had fallen in love with this man. There was so much more she wanted to know about this husband of hers. Guilt colored her thoughts. She needed to be honest with him as well. What would he think about a wife who might be running from the law? That was something she needed to find out. Was she? Running from the law? Or had the man’s death been judged to be a gambling debt gone wrong just as Rosie said it would? She needed to get to town and nose around the sheriff’s office and get a letter to Rosie and the girls to see what was going on in Kansas City.

  “Are you worried your team won’t be able to pull the wagon through the snow?”

  “Hardly.” John took one more look out of the cabin window. “My team is the best in the San Luis Valley. They could pull a locomotive through the pass if I asked them to.”

  Grace smiled at her husband with pride. Things hadn’t started out on a positive note, but she had a good feeling about this arranged marriage of hers. A cloud of fear darkened her thoughts.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Grace looked up to see her husband standing next to her. His face etched with worry.

  She smiled. “Nothing to fret about. I was thinking about what you said about the letter. It’s puzzling. You didn’t write the letter so who did and for what reason? Does someone love you so much they couldn’t stand to see you suffering at the loss of your family and wanted to acquire you another one? Or could it be something more sinister?”

  “Sinister? How could bringing you into my life be sinister?” John pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her resting his chin on the top of her head. He made her feel safe. And loved. She smiled into his shirt.

  “That was not a point of view you held the day I arrived. You thought the world was conspiring against your vow of bachelorhood.”

  He cupped her head and tilted it back to look into her eyes. “Yes, that is true. But that was before I got to know my city girl wife. Hardworking. Resourceful. Beautiful. Honest.”

  Grace’s conscience pricked. She should tell him about—well, everything. And she would. Just as soon as she could get to the sheriff’s office and discover whether there was anything to tell him or not. And she hoped with all her heart the answer was not.

  He leaned in for a kiss. A soft kiss. Not the passionate, toe-curling kisses of the last several weeks. But gentle and lingering as if he were passing his heart to her through it. She sighed. He was hers and she would do everything in her power to hang on to this new life she had been granted. She hoped someday the author of the letter to the Matrimonial News would reveal themselves so she could thank them for bringing her to this wonderful new life.

  John shrugged on his heavy coat and boots. He was headed to hitch up his team to the wagon and test the depth of the snow on the road. Today, he would take Grace back to town. And when they were finished with their business, he would take her to the
ir new home. He would do his best to make it her home. He just hoped she wasn’t going to be too angry with him when he found out he lied. It shouldn’t be a surprise to her he wanted her gone. Thank God she had been as determined to stay as he had been for her to leave.

  Now, early October, the bright sunshine illuminated the remaining snow crystals across the landscape. Icy fractals sparkled and glittered like jewels in a crown he once saw in a book of his mother’s. John took a deep breath of the crisp, cold mountain air.

  He loved this country. His soul lived in these green pines and crystal waters of the streams and rivers. He had alienated himself from his family with his refusal to participate in life. But, at the time, he couldn’t make himself feel happy for his brothers when their families grew. All he could do was feel grief for his own loss. Now, with Grace opening the door to happiness once again, perhaps he could open himself up to life once more.

  His boots crunched across the frozen ground, his tracks marking his way to the barn. He opened the barn door and was welcomed by the nicker of several of his horses.

  “Hello, gentlemen. Are you ready for some exercise in the great outdoors?”

  More nickers answered his words.

  “Then let’s get going.”

  Jack grabbed the heavy harnesses and began tacking up each horse. It wasn’t long before he led them out of the barn two at a time and hitched them to his freight wagon. He wished he had his lighter wagon instead of this heavy one, but he hadn’t planned on getting married when he headed to town that day and instead hoped to acquire a load to haul on his way out of town.