The Doctor's Wife

by Cheryl St. John

  Patricia tossed Ellie an apron. They shared a friendly smile and Ellie found herself more at ease with the women this time.

  The boys did a splendid job at the dinner table; no one would have guessed that they’d never eaten in a dining room before today. Ellie beamed at them because she knew they were enjoying themselves.

  Matthew and Laura accepted Benjamin and Flynn into their family without reserve or qualm. During dessert Laura placed her hand on Benjamin’s shoulder and spoke softly to him. The adoring and embarrassed joy on his face brought swift tears to Ellie’s eyes.

  Flynn, who’d been set on being a doctor for weeks, suddenly decided to become a rancher and asked Caleb’s father endless questions about the horses and cows.

  Patricia carried dishes, silverware and cups into the kitchen for Mildred. Helping, Ellie returned to the dining room to discover Matthew with his arms locked around Laura from behind. She had her hands on his forearms and smiled at something he said in her ear.

  The sight embarrassed and fascinated her at the same time. She paused in the doorway, her hand on the woodwork.

  Patricia came up behind her, but rather than being embarrassed, she said over Ellie’s shoulder, “Are you two at it again?”

  Matthew looked over at his daughter and daughter-inlaw and winked. “Hayden and Soapy are saddling horses,” he said. “Caleb and Denzil and I are taking Benjamin and Flynn to check on livestock. You ladies have a nice afternoon.”

  He released his wife and sauntered out of the dining room.

  “I hope Denzil still loves me like Daddy loves you when we’re grandparents,” Patricia said to her mother.

  “Keep those home fires burning,” Laura said with a smile. “He will.”

  Mother and daughter laughed. Ellie followed them out into the cooling air on the porch. Had she given Patricia the same talk she’d given Ellie? Perhaps in more detail because Patricia had been willing to listen. Patricia spoke about what happened between a man and woman as though it weren’t shameful. In some corner of Ellie’s mind she supposed that what she’d been exposed to wasn’t the way it should be. Nothing in her upbringing had shown her life the way it should be.

  Nate fell asleep on Laura’s lap and Patricia patiently worked on a cross-stitch sampler. Lucy brought Ellie a book and Ellie read her fairy tales.

  Laura reminded Ellie of all she’d missed out on with her own mother, and Lucy reminded her of all she’d been robbed of with the child she’d given away. She longed for many more days like this, even though they pierced her with as much pain as pleasure.

  She’d had a sister once, too, she thought, gazing at Patricia’s serene face as she sewed, and that had been another loss.

  Being around Matthew still made her somewhat uncomfortable, but she reveled in the attention he showered on the boys. He was as kind and as generous-spirited as Caleb, and the fact that Ben and Flynn would have the opportunity to grow up in the midst of the Chaneys seemed too good to be true.

  She couldn’t let anything happen to lose any of this precious and long-sought-after love and affection they’d suddenly become surrounded with. She had to do everything in her power to hang on to this family. Somehow she needed to secure their positions.

  The glimmer of an idea had her sitting up a bit straighter.

  She thought she knew how.

  She studied Laura as she rocked the chair and threaded her fingers through Nate’s silky hair, and she thought over her wedding day advice as well as the words she’d spoken to Patricia. Ellie had been in too much of a fog that day and hadn’t wanted to listen, but Laura had said that a physical relationship could sustain a marriage.

  Caleb was a healthy man with a man’s carnal appetite. Ellie could pretend all she wanted. She could tell herself he wasn’t like other men in that way, but she knew she wasn’t fooled. She might not find the act anything but disgusting, but other people liked it and found it normal. And Caleb was one of them. Besides, she cared for him. She had admitted to herself that she loved him.

  It was what she needed to do to solidify their marriage. She just hoped that carrying out the physical act wouldn’t change the way she felt about him. She didn’t want to lose that special feeling she had for him. She would have to keep the two things separate in her mind, give herself to him without allowing that aspect of their relationship to mar her unblemished feelings toward him.

  Could she do it? Could she let him touch her in that way? She was a strong-minded woman. She could do anything she set herself to. And Caleb was a kind and gentle man. There was no comparison to her past experience.

  The boys’ obvious pleasure and animated conversation on the ride home only reinforced her decision. She wasn’t quite sure how to go about it, but she would figure it out. It was what she had to do, and she was a survivor.

  A week later she still hadn’t figured anything out. The days passed pleasantly, with her brothers growing more comfortable and confident and adjusting to their new life.

  Caleb worked and came home, and she watched him for some invisible sign about what to do. He was a man of his word and he’d agreed to their arrangement. Changing it now was up to her.

  On Saturday night she heated water and they took turns bathing on the back porch. She bathed Nate first and fed him and put him to bed, then made sure the boys had cleaned their nails and talked with them while they settled in. After that she took her turn in the tub.

  Caleb went last so he could dump the water.

  Upstairs, she blew out the lamp and sat by her open window in her nightgown for a long time, listening to the night sounds, waiting for the children to fall asleep and for Caleb to finish and come upstairs.

  Finally the house fell silent.

  Her hands had grown cold and clammy with nervousness, but she washed and dried them again, then padded down the hall to Caleb’s room.

  She must have stood in the hall for several minutes before she found the courage to knock.

  She heard his feet on the floor. The door opened. “What’s wrong?”

  Her heart jumped. She couldn’t see him in the near-black darkness. “Nothing. Were you asleep?”

  “No.”

  She stood there, uncertain what to say. She remembered that Nate was in there sleeping and she didn’t want to risk waking him with their talk. “Maybe we should talk in my room. So we don’t bother Nate.”

  “Just a minute.” The room was dark, but she heard the rustle of clothing and realized he must have pulled on his trousers. His silhouette appeared in the doorway and he closed the door softly. “Is something wrong?” he asked in a whisper.

  “No.” She turned toward her room.

  He followed.

  Her door stood open, the room dark. She hadn’t lit a lamp and he would think that odd. She slipped inside, but he paused in the doorway.

  “Come in.” She stood a little to the side of the entrance.

  He entered. In the moonlight spilling from her open window, she made out the white shirt he’d donned and left unbuttoned. She closed the door. He didn’t move, but she felt his probing gaze on her.

  Ellie didn’t have any second thoughts about what she knew must happen. Her only doubt was how to initiate it.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” she said finally.

  “About what?”

  “About us sleeping together.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. “What brought about this change?”

  She hadn’t expected him to wonder that. She hadn’t actually expected him to question her. “Well, you kissed me.”

  “And that kiss made you change your mind?”

  “I thought you would want to.”

  “Me wanting to was never the question. You’re the one who didn’t want to. I have to wonder why you’ve changed your mind.”

  “Well, it’s important for a marriage. Isn’t it?”

  “I think so.”

  He still left the question hanging between them. Finally, after another stretch of silenc
e, he asked, “Have you changed your mind about a baby, too?”

  Heat rushed up her neck into her cheeks and ears. She didn’t want a baby. She still didn’t want a baby. “No.”

  Her pulse pounded so hard she thought he must hear it.

  “You still don’t want a baby.”

  “No. I don’t want a baby.”

  “You want to make love, but you want me to take precautions.”

  Was that what she wanted? She was so nervous her fingers tingled and she grew light-headed. “Yes.”

  He took a step forward and she caught herself before she jumped away. He reached for her upper arm and his palm and fingers closed around the bare skin. Shivers ran up Ellie’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”

  She was sure she wanted to hang on to this home and family for her and her brothers. She was sure she’d never known anything so good or so wholesome in her life. She was sure she didn’t want to see Ben or Flynn hurt and that she couldn’t bear to lose this man who’d become so important and dear—to all of them. “Yes.”

  He flattened his palm on her arm, up near her shoulder, and rubbed it in a warm circle. “I’ll be right back.”

  He slipped out the door and left her shivering, though her skin was warm and the air barely cool. Her knees trembled and she backed up until she sat on the mattress.

  She barely had time to wonder where he’d gone and to question whether or not she should move or lie on the bed before he returned.

  He closed the door and padded to where she sat.

  “Do you want to lie down?” he asked in the deep-timbred voice she loved, a voice that didn’t frighten her.

  She scooted up on the mattress and lay back against the pillows. He removed his shirt and it dropped to the floor with a tick as the buttons hit the wood.

  Ellie tried not to be disappointed at his eagerness to do this thing. His willingness was in her favor.

  He sat with his hip against hers and the moonlight defined the shadows of his muscled arms and shoulders. He’d never used his strength against anyone. Even when he’d raged with anger at that awful Heath man, he’d focused his words and his body and had behaved with absolute control.

  He’d acted in self-defense against Ben’s attack in this very room, but he’d been careful not to hurt him.

  She had nothing to fear. Nothing except losing him.

  She swallowed audibly.

  He took her hand and stroked her fingers.

  She relaxed by sheer willpower.

  He placed her palm on his upper arm where she’d touched him through his shirt a few times. His skin was sleek and warm, the muscle beneath firm. Her fingers moved of their own will.

  He ran one finger up her arm and into the armhole of her gown, rubbing it across her shoulder. “Do you want to take this off?”

  He referred to the fabric that kept him from reaching any farther than her shoulder.

  She didn’t. She really didn’t. The thought of revealing her body made her want to curl away. But she couldn’t do that.

  She unbuttoned the row of buttons at her throat with trembling fingers. If he urged her to pull the gown off, she would. If he didn’t ask again, she’d keep it.

  He leaned forward, though, catching her off guard by pressing his lips to the skin she’d revealed at her throat. The humid warmth of his lips moved sensuously across her collarbone, his tongue dipped into the hollow at the base of her throat, and his kisses continued down the open front of her nightgown between her breasts.

  He turned his face to one side and kissed the swell. Her breath caught in her throat at the bewildering sensation.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said, his breath caressing her skin. Her nipples hardened.

  She pushed his name past the tightness in her throat. “Caleb?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Will you kiss me again?”

  He raised his face to hers, which brought his trouser-clad leg against her bare one and his bare chest up to her thinly covered breast. At the tactile sensations, she caught her breath.

  The purposeful contact brought pleasure and fear simultaneously. He was so strong; his limbs were so hard. With one hand he cupped her shoulder, and a trapped sensation alarmed her. She wished for a moment that she had lit the lantern so she could see his face.

  He was not merely a dark, faceless shadow in the night. This was Caleb. The man she’d married. The man she wanted to please more than anything.

  Quickly she brought her hand up to touch his cheek, his brow, to encourage herself with their familiarity.

  “Talk to me.” She needed to hear that voice again. His voice always calmed her.

  “Make up your mind,” he teased. “Either you want me to kiss you or you want me to talk to you.”

  “Do both.”

  “All right.” His lips brushed hers gently. Warm. Tender. Lips that had spoken only kind words. Lips that kissed a baby’s head each night and every morning.

  She allowed herself to wallow in the sensation of his mouth against hers—satiny, hot. The pleasure of it surprised her, just as it had before.

  He broke the contact. “Want me to say anything in particular?”

  “Not just now.” She reached up to thread her fingers into his hair and guide his lips back to hers, once again losing herself. This kiss wasn’t as tentative as the last, but she found she liked it just as well. Maybe better.

  His mother might have had the right idea after all.

  He pressed a series of fleeting kisses against her lips, then her jaw, moved his attention up to her temple and across her brow. Sweet, so sweet.

  “Caleb,” she exhaled on a tremulous breath.

  He pressed an unsatisfying kiss to her lips, then traveled down her chin, along her neck and up to her ear. His tongue touched her lobe, his breath creating shivers, and she grasped his arms, his shoulder, needing to hold on to something solid.

  “Ellie,” he whispered. He kissed her again, one hand coming to stroke her breast through her nightgown. She pressed into the sensation. He teased the hardened bud through the fabric and delight arrowed through her body.

  She squeezed her legs together and pushed her body against him. She could do this! His touches melted her fears so easily. If what came next hurt, she would simply think back on this and bear it.

  He ran his hand down over her hip, up beneath the fabric of her gown, and warm skin met warm skin. He stroked her hip, her belly, rolled them to their sides, pulling her close with her leg over his hip and smoothed his palm across her bottom, her back and up, cupping her breast, this time with no barrier.

  Flames burst along her nerve endings, taking possession of her thoughts. The pleasure he created erased her qualms.

  She returned his kisses with wild abandon. His flesh was hot and alive beneath her palms. Everywhere he touched—her arms, her legs, her shoulders, her back—sent pleasure spiraling until her entire being craved something even more delicious.

  Catching one hand, he kissed her fingers, then her lips briefly. He moved away, disentangling their limbs, and stood to remove his trousers.

  The cool air touched Ellie’s flesh. She took a breath, still tasting him on her lips, still feeling his skin in the tips of her fingers.

  His trousers hit the floor and he loomed over her in the darkness, the mattress dipping with his weight. He pushed her nightgown up and ran his hands up her sides and back down, captured her breasts and wedged his knee between her thighs.

  Ellie’s breath caught in her chest. Her heart pounded.

  He bracketed her hips with his hands, his thumbs brushing inward. His hair-covered thigh between hers was hard and unyielding. He moved his leg upward, forcing her to open herself to him.

  Her recognition of his intent startled her. Panic washed over her. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him to stop.

  She brought her hands up in a defensive gesture and found his hard chest in the darkness. She pressed her fists against it.

  He lowere
d himself down onto her, capturing one of her hands between their bodies.

  In the darkness Ellie lost all sense of bearings. Time and place slipped away. Darkness crushed in and nightmarish memories assailed her. She was pinned beneath an overpowering weight and the fingers that probed her tender flesh were an unwanted intrusion. She cringed in horror.

  She couldn’t breathe, and her chest was ready to burst with the need for air.

  He was hurting her.

  She fought him with her free hand and then with the leg she worked loose. Oh, God, she had to get away!

  Chapter Fourteen

  Caleb’s quickened senses rudely changed gears. The woman who’d been responsive and pliant beneath his touch only a moment ago had abruptly turned into a spitting wildcat. He didn’t think he’d done anything to hurt her or scare her, but she sobbed and fought him all the same. Confused, he attempted to comfort and quiet her with a gentle touch.

  Shocked, he felt her fist tighten in his hair.

  Pain ricocheted across his scalp. He yelped and rolled away from her so she’d let loose.

  She did, scrambling to cover herself, her breath shuddering as if she was going to burst into tears.

  “Good God, woman!” He rubbed his aching head. “If you didn’t like something you might have just told me.”

  “Oh, Caleb, I’m sorry.” In the darkness her hand came toward him, but she snatched it back to the sheet at her chest. “I never meant to—I didn’t mean to—I’m so sorry.”

  He fingered his scalp gingerly while another part of his body throbbed nearly as much. The blunt change of gears had thrown him off track, and he struggled to comprehend what had taken place. He found a semicomfortable position in which to sit and stared across the darkness at her shadowy form. “Would you mind telling me what just happened here?”

  “Caleb, I’m sorry.”

  “We’ve established the fact that you’re sorry. Now will you tell me what happened?”

  “You’re so angry.” Her voice was reedy thin with something sounding uncomfortably like fear. She’d been around too many angry people in her life. She’d been hurt and he never wanted her to be afraid of the same from him. His heart melted.