Tame A Honeymoon Heart

by Cynthia Woolf

  Later, as they lay together in bed, she asked, “Do you remember the first time we actually played together? It was—”

  “—at the hot springs pool where you’d gone to bathe, and I joined you.”

  “I was in my chemise and bloomers and you…you dove in naked! I was absolutely mortified.”

  “That’s the way I swim,” he said, unremorseful.

  “When you lifted me out of the water and I slid down your body, that was the first time I felt you…you know.” She felt her cheeks heat.

  “That was the first time I felt you, too. So close and yet so far away. As I remember it, I was holding you, treading water, and was so shocked that I stopped kicking and we dropped like stones. We nearly drowned.”

  “But we didn’t. We lived to get married,” she reminded him. “Do you remember our wedding night?”

  “Which one?” he asked with a glint of humor in his eyes.

  “Our first one. Our real one. The night at White Buffalo’s camp after he’d married us. Our first time together. The night we first conceived.” She laid her head in the crook of his shoulder, silent tears falling for the child they lost and never knew.

  Duncan knew she always thought of that first pregnancy whenever she was pregnant. They’d lost that child when Cat had been trapped under a falling tree. He’d almost lost her. Losing the child was terrible, but given the choice again he’d make the same decision. He’d always choose Cat.

  “Shh, sweetheart. Like you, I wish we could change what happened, but there was nothing we could have done differently to save that baby. Roy Walker and John Morgan took that child from us by blowing up that tree and trying to kill you. Now they’re both dead. That’s the most we could have hoped for as vengeance.”

  She nodded against his shoulder. “I know. But I can’t help but wonder what that child would have been like.”

  “Don’t, Cat.” He rubbed her back as she lay in his arms. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

  Finally, she sniffled. She wiped her eyes and kissed his damp chest. “Now look, I’ve made you all wet.”

  “I’ll survive.” He tenderly brushed her cheek. “Feel better now? I don’t like to see you hurt.”

  She kissed his bare chest. “I remember our wedding night? Our first time together. You were so gentle, so careful with me.”

  “I didn’t want to see you hurt then either, yet I knew I would.”

  She heard the far away note in his voice.

  He cuddled her closer. “I couldn’t have stayed away if I tried. I wanted you so much, I could barely stand it. Then to see you covered only in soft pelts with your incredible red hair loose and shimmering, hiding your breasts from me, I was mad with desire. I didn’t know then that I was in love with you, or that the love would grow stronger every day.”

  She raised her head and looked straight into his cobalt blue eyes. He was so handsome, even with his hair mussed and the dark shadow of his beard gracing his face. “I love you so much. My life wasn’t complete until you came back into it. And the children only add to my contentment.” She lay back down and gazed at the ceiling. “I miss them, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I admit I do.” He held her close with one arm, the other behind his head. “I miss Ian following me all over, trying to do the same things I do. I miss Lizzie’s sweet kisses when she goes to bed.”

  “Me, too,” she smiled. “As much as I have to chase after them, keeping them safe and complain about doing it, I wouldn’t change anything.”

  “What do you think they’re doing right now?” asked Duncan.

  “Probably giving their grandparents fits while they try to get them to go to bed.”

  “Speaking of bed, since we’re lying in one, do you want to sleep or play?”

  She tapped her index finger on her chin. “Hmm. Let me see.”

  He poked her in the ribs.

  She giggled. “No children. Completely alone.” She paused, tapping her finger on her chin. “Sleep, of course.”

  He groaned.

  Laughing, she rolled on top of him. “Come, my love. Let’s play.”

  He clasped her to him. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

  June 20, 1893

  At the home of Philip Nelson

  The cab dropped them off on the curb in front of a mansion, the like of which Catherine had never seen. She wore her new brown dress and hat today. She’d wanted to look her best and not be seen as the country girl Duncan married. Walking into a house like this one put her on edge. If it was up to her, they’d have sent a note and gone home, but this was for Duncan. She would be here for him, so he could find out about his family.

  He put her arm through the crook of his elbow, placed his hand on top of hers and together they walked up the front sidewalk to the door. Duncan lifted the door knocker and slammed it down twice.

  A man in a black suit with a starched white shirt and white gloves answered the door. “May I help you?” he asked, with a distinctly English accent.

  “We’re here to see Philip Nelson.”

  “May I tell him who is calling?”

  “Duncan and Catherine McKenzie.”

  “Ah, Mr. McKenzie. I’ve been told to expect you and show you to the library when you arrived. If you will please follow me?”

  They went in and the butler closed the door behind them. “This way, please,” he said as he walked in front of them down the long hall to the room at the end. He opened the door and ushered them inside the library. “Mr. Nelson shall be here shortly.” He left the room closing the door.

  The library was clearly a man’s room, three times as large as their kitchen back home, which was the largest room in their house. Hardwood floors covered with a couple of Persian rugs, one in front of the fireplace and one in front of the huge, dark wood desk which dominated the room. There was a well-padded leather chair behind the desk and a beautiful lamp with a multi-colored glass shade on the desktop.

  Across the room, in front of the fireplace were two overstuffed chairs in a solid, dark, green color. Between them, forming a conversation area, was a beautiful floral sofa, the only feminine touch she could see in the room. The bookshelves were floor to ceiling with a ladder on wheels attached at the top of the shelves beneath a rail that kept it from falling backward, but left it capable of easily moving along the shelves. Every shelf was full of leather bound books.

  Catherine was admiring the rich, burgundy drapes, tied back with black sashes on each of the four, floor-to-ceiling windows, when the door opened. A tall man strode into the room. He was Duncan’s height and build, though he was younger by several years. His hair was dark brown, not black like Duncan’s and it wasn’t streaked with silver. But it was when he got close and Catherine saw his eyes that she knew for sure this man truly was Duncan’s brother. He had the exact shade of midnight blue eyes Duncan’s mother always said he and his father had shared.

  The man came forward, a smile on his face and his arm outstretched to Duncan.

  “Hello, I’m Philip Nelson. I’m so glad we are finally meeting.”

  Duncan shook his hand. “Duncan McKenzie, and this is my wife, Catherine.”

  She held out her hand for him to shake, but he took it in his hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed the top of her hand. “I’m very glad to meet you. My wife, Penelope, is upstairs with the children, but shall join us shortly.”

  Philip led them to the fireplace sitting area. “Please be seated. Be comfortable.”

  Duncan sat in one of the large, green chairs and Catherine sat on the flowered sofa nearest her husband. Philip sat in the chair opposite his brother. It was going to take Duncan some time to get used to that idea! Brother!

  Her new brother-in-law smiled at them both before he settled back in his chair. “I’m sure you must have a lot of questions, but let me start with some background…as I know it. As you can see, Duncan, you are older than I am. According to father’s papers, five years older. I’m thirty-six, which would make you forty-
one.”

  “That’s correct,” said Duncan hesitantly.

  “Your mother, Molly McKenzie and my father, Robert Nelson, were evidently very much in love. But father’s parents threatened to disown him if he married your mother. He was willing to accept that, but she refused. She said she would not be responsible for depriving him and his children of their birthright. According to his papers, he provided for your mother until her letters stopped coming. He assumed she’d married, but he learned later that she’d passed away. He was devastated. He still loved her, you see. Which explains a lot of my childhood. My parents fought all the time. I didn’t know why until I read his papers.” He paused, closed his eyes for a moment. “I wasn’t going to contact you. I was angry at Father for not loving my mother but I came to realize that he did what he had to and what your mother wanted him to do.”

  “Apparently, my mother thought nothing of depriving me of my family and my birthright,” said Duncan tightly. Duncan frowned, not happy to hear the pain in his voice. He was a grown man. He’d put those childish hurts behind him. Hadn’t he? He knew in his heart, that she thought she was doing the right thing, but now that he knew, he felt it was so wrong.

  “Father, must have thought so, too. He did try to support you, but when the letters stopped, he lost track of you for many years until he read an account of the exploits of one Duncan McKenzie, bounty hunter. At that point, he hired a detective to investigate your background and discovered that your mother was indeed, Molly, the woman father had loved. After that he kept tabs on you. He knew you’d married, had two children and settled to raise part-Arabian cutting horses in Creede, Colorado. Quite an undertaking if I do say so myself.”

  The butler arrived with the coffee and tea. He set the bright, silver tray on the glossy table in front of the sofa. Matching silver coffee and tea pots graced the tray along with four delicate, china cups and saucers, a sugar bowl and pitcher of milk.

  He was followed by a pretty blond woman, half a head shorter than Catherine, who entered the room and closed the door silently behind her. She wore an attractive yellow dress with white bodice and lace at the high collar.

  “So sorry I’m late.” Her voice was deep and throaty like Catherine’s. “It was time for the children’s naps. We don’t employ a nursemaid, as I want to raise my children myself.”

  “I understand,” Catherine replied, “I agree with you. If I’d wanted other people to raise my children, I’d have let them birth them as well, rather than go through that ordeal myself.” She paused, looked at Duncan, horrified. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t discuss that in mixed company.”

  Duncan reached over and squeezed her hand.

  Penelope laughed. “Don’t be. I agree with you and since our husbands have both gone through this with us, I say the remark is well understood.”

  Duncan released Cat’s hand, looked at Philip and said, “I understand more about what happened between my parents now. But my father still didn’t come to see me after he’d tracked me down. Why would he suddenly leave his stud farm to me? And why aren’t you upset that he is leaving anything to me, his bastard.” It didn’t matter if he understood it, adult or not, the hurt was still there.

  “Thank you, Somerset. I’ll pour,” said Penelope to the butler.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, then left the room and closed the door behind him.

  Penelope poured a cup of coffee for each of the men and, then tea for Catherine.

  “I’m confused,” said his brother. “I would have thought the reason he left the stud to you was obvious. You already raise horses. As to why I’m not upset, I have all of the family’s other ventures, shipping, real estate, and oil, to keep me busy and to provide for my family.”

  “Yes, I do raise horses,” said Duncan. “In Colorado. Not Kentucky.”

  “I realize that, but you could move your operations to Kentucky easily enough. You’re still a small operation. The stud farm is rather large and…well, it’s a going concern…having been in business for more than twenty years. There’s a huge house with servants, the horse barns, exercise arenas as well as a racing track. It’s a complete facility for raising thoroughbreds.”

  Catherine’s teacup clattered to the saucer. “No.”

  “Catherine,” warned Duncan, laying his hand on her knee. “Not here.”

  She looked at him and snapped her mouth shut. She took the cup, downed the tea in a couple of gulps, set the cup heavily in the saucer and sat back. Her hand rested on her stomach and he remembered they were expecting another child. There was no chance in hell that he would have his child raised in Kentucky, but he wasn’t going to let Philip know that right now.

  “I’d need to see the particulars…the farm’s books. I want to know exactly what kind of business we’re talking about and what condition it’s in. Then we’ll talk,”

  Philip was clearly taken aback. He frowned. “Father assumed you’d jump at the chance to own a breeding facility like Nelson Farms.”

  “Well,” said Duncan, anger radiating through him. “Father was wrong. There are many things to consider before I make any decision about whether to even accept his bequest. Send the business records to me tonight at the Palmer House. Give me a couple of days to review them and then we’ll talk again,”

  Philip recovered. A smile returned to his face. “Yes, of course. I have the business papers for the stud farm and a copy of Father’s will for you. I’ll send both with you when you leave.”

  “Perhaps we could convince you to stay for dinner, brother, so we can all get to know each other a little better?” asked Penelope.

  Brother! I’m not anyone’s brother, not yet, but remembering his manners, he replied, “Thank you for the invitation, but we have a previous engagement with William F. Cody for tonight and can’t cancel at the last minute.”

  He saw Catherine’s gaze snap toward him, but she said nothing, realizing it was just an excuse not to stay.

  Penelope’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You actually know Buffalo Bill Cody? The showman?”

  “Yes,” answered Duncan without elaborating.

  She smiled broadly. “Philip is also a fan of the famous showman. How did you meet him?” asked Penelope.

  Duncan shrugged. “I met him during my bounty hunter days. He wanted me to join his show.”

  “Ah, that’s right.” Philip spoke up, admiration shining in his eyes. “The detective said you were fairly well known for your prowess with a gun. I would have loved to join Cody’s show. How could you turn down such a wonderful offer?”

  “I know how to use a gun. Most folks where we come from know how to use one. You never know when you’re going to run into a varmint. Either the four-legged or the two-legged variety,” said Duncan. “But going on display never appealed to me.”

  Penelope turned to Catherine, “Even the women shoot?”

  His wife grinned. “Of course.”

  “Cat, here, is one of the best shots around.” Duncan boasted, proud of her. “She’s almost better than I am, and is better than most men.”

  Catherine beamed a smile at him and he wondered why she always seemed surprised when he bragged on her.

  “That’s wonderful. Perhaps you’ll show us someday,” said Philip, hinting that they would have a relationship, which Duncan still wasn’t sure he wanted. Yet anyway.

  He rose to his feet. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “Now, however, we do have an appointment.”

  “I’ll show you out.” Philip went to the desk and pulled out a large envelope and two account books. “Here are the farms books and your copy of the will. I hope you find them all in order. We’ll see you in two days.”

  Duncan and Philip shook hands. Catherine and Penelope gave each other a slight hug before Duncan and Catherine got a cab back to the hotel.

  They arrived back in time for dinner, though Catherine didn’t have much of an appetite. They went up to their room to put the papers away.

  “Hungry?” asked Duncan calmly, like the
ir whole world hadn’t just plunged off a cliff.

  She carefully took off her hat, feeling so brittle she might break, and shook her head. “No. You?”

  “No, but you need to eat. You’ve got a babe to feed.”

  She knew he was right. She needed to stay healthy and skipping meals wasn’t a good way to do it. “I’m too angry to eat. It would just sit there in the bottom of my stomach and make me sick. No thanks. I’ll pass.”

  “Alright, let’s talk.” He took her hand and let her to the bed where they sat on the edge.

  How could he even consider for a moment leaving her home, their home. Where their babies had been born and would be born. She moved her hand to her stomach. “I won’t move to Kentucky, Duncan. I want our children brought up in our valley, with their grandparents and friends nearby. It’s my home. Our home. How can you consider moving to Kentucky for one minute?”

  He rose from the bed and ran his fingers through his hair, pacing in front of her. “I’m not thinking of moving to Kentucky, Cat. I love our home, our land. Our children need to grow up there and learn to love it as much as we do. What I want to know is if we can still keep the stud if we don’t move there. Is it running in the black or the red? Should it be sold?

  “My thought is if it’s in the black, we could ship our stock there to show. Have the buyers come to us there. We could do it once per year and make it a little vacation for us as well.”

  Relief raced through Catherine. She grinned, jumped up and pulled him close for a big hug. “Oh, Duncan! I was so afraid you wanted to pull up stakes and leave our lives and…” She pressed her mouth over his and kissed him, deeply.

  He returned the caress, giving as much as he was taking. When she started to pull him back to the bed, he stopped them. “Whoa, there! We still have some more to talk about before we enjoy ourselves tonight.”

  “What?” He looked so serious, a fresh frisson of fear raced through her. Maybe, he still had thoughts of leaving their ranch behind. “What do we need to do?”