“You think you can do better?” He arched his brow in challenge.
She held out her hands. “I certainly can’t do worse.”
The moment she held her son snuggled against her, a calm peacefulness settled over her like a veil of lace softening everything around her. She drew the blanket closed around him and the baby stopped flailing his arms and legs. When she cooed to her son, he smacked his lips and stared at her with big, dark-blue eyes.
“Are you hungry?” she asked him.
Not really sure how to do it, she eased him to her breast. He rooted for a moment, then found the object of his desire. She grimaced as he latched on to her nipple and suckled.
“Does it hurt?” Nathan asked.
“A little, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”
Keeping her son covered as much as possible with the blanket, she examined him as he nursed. Ten fingers, ten toes; each formed to perfection. Thick black hair—the same color as Nathan’s—covered his head. He didn’t seem bigger than a minute, but his muscles were strong and he ate with the same vigor as the calves she’d seen birthed in the spring.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
“He’s as handsome as his mother is beautiful. He looks like you.”
She smoothed the coal-black hair on the tiny baby’s head. “No, I think he looks a lot like you and Rachel.”
“Maybe he has my mouth.”
Her stomach began to cramp again and she moaned.
“I think the afterbirth’s coming,” Nathan said as he checked her again. “Give me another push, darlin’.”
She closed her eyes and pushed. Once the pressure was gone and she no longer cramped, she concentrated on her son again.
Nathan stood and carried the bundle containing the afterbirth to the door. “I need to get this buried as soon as possible. I don’t want any animals trying to get to it. Will you be okay for a moment?”
“We’ll be fine.”
“Keep yourselves covered until I get back.”
Her attention focused on their son, she simply nodded.
By the time Nathan stepped back through the cabin door, the exhausting work of labor had taken its toll on both mother and baby. He watched them sleep for a moment, tears of thanks filling his eyes.
His wife and son.
Safe and sound.
Fighting his own exhaustion, he took warm water from the bucket near the fire and cleaned them both. Once he had them tucked in the dry, warm bed he disposed of the hay pallet, then rinsed off her quilt and hung it up to dry before the banked fire.
With one worry solved, he slipped beneath the buffalo robe with his wife and son. The tiny baby tucked between them for the night should stay safe and warm. He smoothed the hair from Laura’s face and felt the back of her neck. The fever seemed completely gone.
Now he only had one thing to worry about. Protecting Laura. Of course that meant he had to convince her to finally tell him about what she witnessed the night the senator was murdered.
He watched the embers in the fire glow just beneath the surface of ash in the fireplace. That’s just how he felt inside. He’d been patient long enough. In the morning he’d demand she confide in him and tell him what scared her so much that she endangered her and their son’s lives enough to go traipsing up the mountainside, especially when winter came early up in the Rockies.
* * * * *
An almost imperceptible noise outside the cabin brought Nathan instantly awake. Careful not to awaken Laura or the baby, he slipped from the bed, grasped his Bowie knife from the table and eased behind the cabin door. He’d take no chances where his wife and son’s safety was at stake.
In the dim firelight he watched the latch lift slowly. Then the door eased open without so much as a squeak.
He tensed.
A large, weather-reddened hand holding its own Bowie knife inched through the opening followed by a fur-covered arm. As the intruder’s body emerged through the door, Nathan grasped him from behind and brought his knife hand up to rest against the man’s neck.
“Hello, Micah,” he whispered into the big man’s ear. “Finally decide to come out of hiding?”
“I haven’t been hiding, Nathan,” Micah drawled out in that way that said he’d stay calm in any situation. “Just thought I’d come down for a little visit. See how that mail-order bride situation worked for you.”
“Lucky for you it worked out better than either of us thought.” Nathan released his grip on his old partner and shook his hand, both of them grinning at the other.
“Why are we whispering?” Micah closed the door and stepped before the fireplace, warming his hands over the coals.
“Because my wife is sleeping in the bed. What are you really doing down off the mountaintop this time of year?”
Micah’s grin faded and a shadow passed over his features. He shrugged out of first one layer of fur, then another, and finally his old wool coat, depositing them on a bench. “Just had a feeling you might be needing me.”
“A feeling or a dream?” Nathan asked, every fiber of his body so tensed for the answer he could hear his blood swooshing through his veins.
“Only a feeling.”
Nathan relaxed, dragging in a deep breath and forcing the air out with measured patience. Micah’s feelings had kept them out of danger on more than one occasion during and after the war. His dreams were another matter. When his partner dreamed of danger, disaster usually followed.
“As usual your feeling is right on target.”
“Does it have to do with this new wife? Don’t tell me you married another she-wolf. Is she as bad as the last one?”
“Laura is everything a wife should be. When she’s awake I’ll have to introduce you two.”
“So you’re not ready to slit my throat over suggesting you send for a mail-order bride?”
Nathan slapped him on the back. “This time, one of your ideas turned out all right.”
The two sat at the table. Nathan poured them each a cup of the coffee he’d had warming near the fire.
Micah took a long sip. “So tell me what brought the two of you out in this kind of weather. If she’s as great a little woman as you say she is, why aren’t you at home making little Rachel some brothers and sisters?”
Nathan spewed his coffee back into his cup. “Leave it to you to get right to the heart of the matter. That’s just what we’ve been doing.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you from your work. I’ll sleep over here by the fire.”
“No, you crazy mountain man. I mean we’ve made Rachel a new brother. Here, let me show you.” Nathan went to the bed and carefully lifted the baby. Undisturbed, Laura turned farther into the covers. He smiled at the peaceful expression on her features, then carried his son over to his friend.
“Well, I’ll be. You have been busy this last year, old friend.” Micah lifted the baby’s blanket by the corner to gaze quietly at the small boy. He touched a finger to his hand. The baby grabbed on and held tight. “He’s got a mighty strong grip for such a little fella. Just look how he’s holding on. He’s a fighter for sure.”
Nathan shook his head as he handed his son into Micah’s hands. One of the meanest fighters, fiercest trappers and arduous cynics he’d ever known had just been turned to pure mush by the touch of a small hand. He sat sipping his coffee while he watched his friend.
Micah stood at least five or six inches taller than himself, and he was six feet tall. Micah wore his long, shaggy blond hair tied back off his shoulders. Demons from his friend’s past kept him hiding in the mountain’s solitude most winters.
This time Nathan studied his friend carefully. The teasing grin on his face didn’t quite hide the worry in his eyes. Something else had him heading out of the mountains early this year. He knew better than to push his oldest friend. When the time came, Micah would tell him what he’d dreamt.
“What name have you given the little fella?” Micah asked, tearing his gaze away from the bundle in h
is arms.
“To tell you the truth, Laura and I hadn’t decided on one yet.”
“I’d like to name him William James after my father,” came a husky-voiced suggestion from the bed.
Both men turned to see Laura watching them from beneath the buffalo robe.
“I’m sorry we woke you, darlin’,” Nathan apologized as he approached the bed. He leaned over and gently kissed her. “I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of mine.”
“Uhm, I don’t think I’m up to meeting anyone right now.”
She looked into his eyes with the same shyness she’d shown the first day he’d met her. Usually she was very friendly toward anyone she met. Why wouldn’t she want to meet Micah? Was it because he was almost as woolly as a bear? He leaned closer.
“You’re going to have to meet Micah, darlin’. He’s gonna be staying here until the weather clears.”
“Nathan.” She continued to look him straight in the eyes, as if she expected him to know her reason for hesitating.
“Yes?” he asked, still without a clue as to her reluctance.
“Nathan, I’m naked,” she whispered and turned bright red.
“Micah won’t mind,” he teased, watching her mouth screw into that annoyed line he’d seen so often over the past months. Her eyes narrowed and flashed into angry green emeralds again.
“Well, I would.”
He laughed and turned to block her from his friend’s view. “Micah, you want to step outside for a few minutes?”
“Be happy to,” Micah answered, his voice cracking with the effort not to laugh. “You just take this little fella for me, and I’ll go outside and see to the horses.”
He handed the baby to Nathan, threw on one of his fur coats and headed out the door. “You might throw on some pants while you’re at it,” he said over his shoulder as the door closed.
Nathan laid his son on the bed next to his wife, then went to retrieve her carpetbag. “I’ll get you something to wear.”
“I’ll just take my nightgown.” Laura turned her attention to the baby.
“I can’t give it to you.”
“Whyever not? I know I packed it.”
“I can’t give it to you because you no longer own a nightgown.” He avoided meeting her eyes.
“Nathan, what did you do with my nightgown?” she asked, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Now, Laura, I needed something to make into washrags and bandages for you.” He finally lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. “When I got here, you were crazy with fever. I needed something to help bring it down.”
“You used my favorite, not to mention only, warm nightgown, for washrags?”
“Laura, you were so sick I had to make a decision.” He raised himself to his full height and braced for a fight. He wouldn’t apologize for doing what he thought was right. “I did what needed to be done. You needed, uhm, bandages for the bleeding too. The nightgown was the best choice, I thought.”
Silence lengthened between them, then finally she laughed. “You couldn’t wait to get rid of it, could you?”
He grinned at her and shrugged. “Nope. It was the first thing I found. Now what would you like to wear?”
* * * * *
A discreet knock sounded on the cabin door half an hour later. Seated on the bench near the fire, dressed and clean, her son fed once more and tucked safely in the bed, Laura adjusted the hem of her pink calico dress as Nathan opened the door for his friend.
“Laura,” he said while the other man shrugged out of his coat, “this is my oldest friend, Micah Turner. The South was so decimated after the war we decided to try our luck hunting and trapping here in the Rockies. Micah, this beautiful lady is my wife, Laura.”
Micah grasped her hand in a firm but gentle handshake. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” Laura shook his hand and tired not to blush. “I must thank you for providing such a warm and safe refuge from the storm.”
“You’re more than welcome.” He sank gracefully onto the floor and folded his legs Indian-style. “It sure brightens these old, dull walls having you and your son pass some time here. Which reminds me.” He turned his attention to Nathan. “Have you gone plumb loco dragging your wife up the mountain in her condition?”
“That’s not—” Nathan began.
“Oh, he didn’t drag me up here,” Laura interrupted. “He more or less followed me up here.”
“Why in the world would you come up a mountainside all by yourself this close to the end of your confinement?” Micah’s question, asked with such gentle curiosity, caught her completely by surprise.
The long-held secret felt like a weight around her neck. She wanted to unburden herself, but what would they think of her?
“Yes. Why would you need to leave the safety of our home?” Nathan sat beside her and took her hand in his. “Can’t you trust me now?”
His gaze held hers captive. He wanted her to trust him.
The time had come.
“It’s not that I was trying to climb a mountain to have this baby, but I needed to escape someone.” The words out, she dropped her gaze to the floor. She couldn’t bear to see the contempt she knew had to be written all over his face.
“Laura, who is Nigel?”
She jerked her head up to stare at him. “How do you know about him?”
“You were talking about him when you were out of your head with fever and fear. You kept yelling at him not to take your baby. In fact, you fought off several people I’ve never heard you mention, this Nigel person and two women. Aunt Ellen and Clara? Care to fill me in on them all or just Nigel to start with?”
“It’s a long story and has very much to do with why I answered your advertisement for a wife.” She settled herself more comfortably on the bench, praying that somewhere deep in his heart, Nathan could find a little bit of love for her—enough to forgive and maybe protect her. For the first time since all this began, she realized she could never outrun Nigel. “Could I have something to drink first? Then I’ll tell you everything about it.”
Nathan nodded. “There’s some tea in that pot near the fire, Micah. Why don’t you pour Laura some, while I make us some coffee.”
The two men set about their chores while Laura rested near the warm fire Nathan had stirred to life. She stared into the golden flames and tried to calm her nerves.
Micah handed her a cup of tea then leaned closer and whispered, “You really can trust Nathan, you know.”
“Oh Micah, if there’s one person in this world I know I can trust, it’s him. It’s just that he didn’t want to be married to me in the first place and now I’ve involved him and Rachel in a murder.”
“And that’s just what I want to hear about.” Nathan sat beside her once more, taking her trembling hand in his.
The heat from the cup warming her other hand, she swallowed hard, then began her story. “It started back in Washington in a library where I worked at night.”
She told them about witnessing the murder, recognizing the murderer, fleeing the library to Claudia’s, and the discovery that the whole murder had been covered up. Silence filled the cabin as she stopped to sip her tea. Finally she turned her head to look at Nathan.
His jaw was set as firm as granite and the tiny muscle near his ear twitched. He blinked several times, anger rolling off him like steam from a baked potato.
“I can’t believe you put yourself in such danger.” His words, when he finally spoke, were clipped.
Did he think she was a complete idiot? “I didn’t just stand there in the middle of the library waving my arms about for him to see me. I was quite careful to keep myself hidden.”
“I don’t mean that particular night. What were you thinking to work late at night in an isolated library by yourself? Any number of things could’ve happened to you on any given night.”
That’s what he was upset about? “I’m a grown woman, well past the marriageable age by
society’s standards. I always took a carriage to and from work. It was perfectly safe for me to be out at night on my own.”
“If you were so safe, why did you have to run out of the library and travel thousands of miles?”
“It wasn’t like I planned to witness a murder and have the murderer hunt me down. Except for that night, I wasn’t in any danger working in the library.”
What was this sudden show of anger at how she lived during her former life?
Nathan cursed and shoved himself off the bench.
“Pardon me for interrupting this fascinating debate, but I’d like to know how this Blackwood found out you were in the library at all?” Micah asked patiently.
“Yes, do tell us how he discovered you were there if you were so well hidden.”
Laura turned her attention toward Micah. Ignoring her husband’s sarcasm, she told them about that dreadful night. “Once I arrived at Claudia’s house I realized that I had left my newest book behind. That is apparently how he discovered my identity.”
Micah’s brows drew together. “How could a book identify you?”
“Because my dear wife doesn’t just read books, she writes them.” Nathan leaned an elbow on the fireplace mantel.
Once again she explained how her real name and not her pseudonym was on the manuscript.
Nathan studied his wife’s sad face and felt her hurt all the way through to his gut. She’d carried her burden for so long out of fear he’d be angry with her for dragging him into it. He was angry all right, but not for the reason she thought. As she told her tale, he realized just how much danger she’d been in. He couldn’t imagine his life without her now. He knew she had more to tell him, but he didn’t think he could bear to hear any more tonight.
He sat beside her once more, draped his arm around her and hugged her tightly to his chest. The sobs started out slowly, building with an intensity that shook her from her toes to her scalp. His arms wrapped about her, he rocked her like a child. Even after the shaking stopped, he continued to hold her. Finally she fell asleep in his arms. He lifted her and carried her to the bed, easing her beneath the covers.
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