LOST AND FOUND HUSBAND

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  “That’s sweet. You know, I’ve been thinking that I’m going to cut back a bit at the diner. The manager already hired a new girl to fill in for me, so I might as well take advantage of it.”

  “Good. I’m glad. You know how I feel about you pushing yourself too hard.”

  “Yes, I’m well aware of how protective you are. You barely let me do anything on the yard.”

  “I let you do plenty.”

  “Not as much as I’m capable of doing.” She was still resting her head against his shoulder. “It drives me crazy. But it’s nice, too.”

  He fanned his fingers over her stomach. As a husband and father, it was his job to keep Dana and their child safe. To him, it was the most important role in a man’s life, and Eric was taking it seriously.

  Chapter Eleven

  Summer arrived with a bit of June gloom, but the weather warmed up soon enough. And by now, Dana was definitely showing. Every time she looked in the mirror, she marveled at her cute little baby bump.

  Eric entered the bedroom and stood behind her. She gazed at his reflection. They were leaving for Oregon today. They’d decided to drive instead of fly. Kaley would be riding along with them.

  “I just know that you and Kaley are going to over pack,” he said.

  “Us girls gotta have our clothes.”

  “Tell me about it. If you get any more maternity dresses, we’re going to have to move to a bigger house to make room for them.”

  “I can’t help that my old clothes don’t fit me anymore. And at least I buy cheap.”

  “The thrift store queen.”

  She struck a regal pose. “I like old things.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you married me.”

  She reached back and nudged him. He was always making old-guy jokes. “Knock it off.”

  “I’m only going to get older, Dana.”

  “I’m going to get older, too.”

  “Yes, but you’ll still always be sixteen years behind me.”

  “You know that doesn’t matter to me.” She would always adore her husband, at any age.

  Adore him? Or love him? she asked herself.

  At the moment, she didn’t want to answer that question. She was anxious about seeing Ryan and Victoria and being immersed in how brightly their love shined.

  She gazed at their reflections again.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she lied. “We just have a lot going on.” At least that wasn’t a lie. After they returned from Oregon, she would be having the ultrasound that would most likely reveal Sweet Bean’s gender. Plus, they were still in the middle of decorating the nursery. On top of that, Kaley and Candy had been talking about cohosting a baby shower for her and having it here at the house.

  He said, “Don’t let me forget to pack the garment bag that has my tux in it. Ryan would scalp me if I left it behind.”

  “You won’t forget, but I’ll remind you when we’re loading up the car.” Although this tuxedo was a different style than the one he’d worn to their wedding, he’d rented it at the same shop. “And Ryan would never scalp you.”

  “True.” He put his arms around her, resting his hands on the baby bump. “I’m the guy who raised his daughter.”

  She leaned back against him. Because he was making her want to melt, she locked her knees to keep from going dreamy.

  She said, “Ryan told me that he didn’t like you at first. That he was jealous because he thought you would end up with Victoria.”

  “Yeah, but he was way off the mark. Victoria and I were never attracted to each other.”

  “Did you know that she was in love with him when she was younger? Did she confide in you about it?”

  “When I first met her? No. She kept those feelings a secret, even from him.”

  Dana drew a breath. A woman who’d been secretly in love wasn’t the best topic for her to be discussing. But she’d started this conversation, so she was going to finish it.

  She said, “At least Ryan made up for the past.”

  “He struggled with what he’d done for most of his life. He even married someone else. But he didn’t love that woman enough to make it work, so she divorced him.”

  Dana didn’t want to think about failed marriages, not while she was fighting her feelings for Eric. But she inquired about Ryan’s ex, anyway. “What happened to her?”

  “She got remarried a while ago. So, basically, it was a win-win for everyone. But they’re all lucky it turned out that way. Not everyone is that lucky.”

  Was it luck or was it fate? Although Dana knew the difference, sometimes it seemed like the same thing. Besides, she was confused today.

  “I’m going to go check the oil in the car,” he said.

  “Okay. I’ll finish getting ready.”

  He nuzzled her shoulder, then walked away, leaving her feeling much too alone.

  * * *

  On the day they arrived at the farmhouse, Victoria and Ryan greeted them on the front porch.

  Victoria took one look at Dana’s protruding belly and said, “Oh, my goodness, check you out.”

  Dana smiled. “Sweet Bean is getting bigger.”

  Victoria leaned in to hug her. “After I gave Kaley up, I used to get sad whenever I saw a pregnant woman. But now it makes me joyous, and it’s especially joyous to see you carrying Eric’s child.”

  “Thank you. That means the world to me.”

  Their gazes met and held, and Dana wondered if Victoria was analyzing her, if she suspected that Dana might be in love with Eric.

  No, that was foolish. How could Victoria suspect anything? She and Dana barely knew each other. But more importantly, Dana refused to obsess about her feelings.

  But as the Oregon trip unfolded, she couldn’t seem to help it. Ryan and Victoria’s wedding was filled with love, just as Dana knew it would be.

  The ceremony was in the evening, with twinkling lights and hundreds of candles that created a breathtaking ambience. The bride wore a stunning custom-made gown with Native American embellishments, in honor of the groom’s tribe. He wore a tux, but he also had an Indian blanket draped around his shoulders. As part of their joining, they fed each other bits of foods from a traditional Paiute wedding basket.

  While they recited their vows, their gazes were locked in sheer joy. There were no stumbling blocks, nothing keeping them from spending the rest of their lives together. The heartache from the past was over. Their grown daughter was sharing this moment with them. Kaley had never looked more beautiful. She wore a buckskin dress and carried a feather fan.

  And Eric. The best man. Dana’s heart filled with pride when she saw him standing at the gazebo altar, watching his daughter’s birth parents become one. The blanket was now draped over both of their shoulders, sealing their union.

  At the reception, a three-course dinner was served beneath a big white canopy. Throughout the meal, many of the guests tapped their drinking glasses with their silverware, prompting the bride and groom to kiss. Even Eric tapped his, joining in on the ritual. He presented a beautiful toast, too, reciting a Native blessing.

  Later, when the newly married couple danced, all eyes were upon them. Eric Clapton’s “Change the World” came on first. The DJ announced that Ryan and Victoria chose it because it was a special part of their long-ago and recent history.

  As Dana watched them, she thought about her history with Eric. They didn’t have a long-ago past. Everything was current. No, that wasn’t true, she amended. She’d known him for a year before they slept together. He’d been her customer all that time, with an attraction brewing between them even then.

  Once the other guests were invited to dance, Eric led her to the dance floor. Dana relished the feeling of being in his arms, and when he sm
iled at her, she admitted to herself, right then and there, that she was in love with her husband.

  She lifted a hand to his cheek. Would he love her someday, too? Or would his heart be impossible to catch?

  “Are you all right?” A stab of worry flashed in his eyes.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your hand feels clammy.”

  The hand on his cheek? “It does?”

  “Yes.” He covered it with his, as if he were trying to warm her up. “Should we sit down?”

  “No. I want to keep dancing.” To stay in his arms. “It feels good being here with you like this.”

  “Are you sure?” He didn’t seem convinced. “Your hand is still so cold.”

  “Then hold me closer.”

  Eric did what she asked. He held her so incredibly close that she was able to mold her body against his. Dana wanted to tell him how she felt. She wanted to reveal that she loved him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  She was afraid of what his reaction would be, and she was rarely fearful of anything. Her motto had always been to attack life head on, but she couldn’t seem to attack this situation.

  “Will you make love with me tonight?” she asked.

  “Of course I will. I always want to be intimate with you.”

  Sex, she thought. Passion. It was the emotional outlet that worked between them. Only from now on it was going to take on a different kind of emotion for her.

  “I always want to be intimate with you, too,” she said. “And I’m feeling particularly amorous tonight.” It was as close as she could come to saying that she loved him, without actually saying it.

  “It’s probably the wedding. The romantic vibe.”

  It was so much more than that, but she let him believe that the setting was instrumental in her behavior. “As soon as we go to our room, I want you to kiss me as hard as you can.”

  “I can kiss you right now.” He lowered his head and put his lips softly against hers.

  She moaned her frustration. “That was too light.” She needed to numb her mind with more.

  “I want to be light and gentle.”

  “Why can’t you be hard and rough instead?”

  He slipped his hand down to cradle her bump. “Because I want to be gentle with the mother of my child.”

  Her knees went weak. How could she argue with what he said? He was creating an illusion of love, drawing her into a need she couldn’t deny.

  Now she wanted it the way he wanted it, craving exactly what he was offering. She wanted to bask in each and every gentle touch, for as long as she could.

  * * *

  Later that night, Dana slid into bed with her husband. Being naked with him felt like silk over satin, like cream over the sweetest most succulent dessert.

  She made soft girlish sounds, sighing while he kissed her.

  He caressed her bare flesh, running his hands along her curves. Her figure was much fuller now, not only her stomach, but her hips, thighs and breasts, too.

  He lowered his head to tongue one of her nipples, and she ran her fingers through his hair, toying with the thickness.

  “They’re darker now,” he said.

  It took a second for his words to register. He was talking about her areolas and nipples.

  “They’re bigger, too,” he said, dragging his tongue across the other one. “I like how they look. It’s sexy.”

  “Then I hope they stay this way.” She wanted to be sexy for the man she’d married. The man she loved.

  Would this be the right time to tell him?

  She squeezed her eyes shut. No. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tamper with the warmth of this moment. Eric was being the perfect lover, the perfect fantasy husband. If she told him and he drew away from her, she would lose this night forever.

  She was going to wait until she was stronger, more emotionally equipped to say it. She would know, wouldn’t she, when the time was right?

  Heavens, she hoped so. It was all so new, so different, so unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  Clearly, this was the way Eric had felt about Corrine. The feeling he mourned. The woman he couldn’t seem to forget.

  Dana kept her eyes tightly closed. How could she compete with that? How could she cope with being in Corrine’s shadow now that she’d fallen in love with Eric?

  “Open your eyes,” he said, as he pressed his fingers between her legs. “Look at me.”

  Look at him? Now? While he pleasured her? It should have been easy to comply with the request. But her eyelids felt weighted down, as if she couldn’t handle the task.

  He persisted. “I want us to connect when I make it happen for you.”

  “We are connecting.”

  “It’s always better when we’re looking at each other.”

  She forced herself to meet his gaze. He reacted by heightening her pleasure, by making her body scream for more.

  “You’re too good at this,” she said.

  “There’s no such thing as being too good at something.”

  She arched beneath his touch. “It feels too good.”

  He kissed her while he made her shake and shiver, while she clung to him like a desperate reed in the wind.

  But it didn’t end there. After she went lax and her heart turned to jelly, he positioned her on her side and got behind her.

  He entered her, deep and slow, pulling her into a prism of life-altering passion. He kissed her neck, her shoulders. He moved with masculine confidence, stroking her to another peak.

  The room was spinning. Her world was changing. And there was nothing she could do about it.

  Except embrace the wonder of Eric.

  * * *

  During the house-sitting phase of their trip, Eric and Kaley taught Dana how to care for the farm animals that lived on the property. Not only did she learn how to feed them, she also became proficient at gathering eggs, milking the cow and pasteurizing the milk. She thought it was fun, especially with her husband and his daughter as her trainers.

  Today they were taking a break and spending a few hours in the woods that flanked the farmhouse. Only Kaley wasn’t with them. She was visiting with June, her Oregon friend, who was home from college for the summer.

  “I really like it here,” Dana said.

  “So do I,” Eric replied. “But I’ve always appreciated nature. I used to surf when I was younger, as you know, but I also hiked and camped. I still try to commune with Mother Earth however I can, even if it’s in simple ways.”

  She thought he looked magnificent in this environment, with the trees towering above him like timber gods.

  As his hair blew across his forehead, she itched to touch it. To distract herself, she glanced at the blanket they were sitting on. It was just a plain-colored throw, nothing like the one that had been used in the wedding earlier this week.

  “I loved the Native influence in Ryan and Victoria’s ceremony,” she said. “I loved the way you toasted them with a Native blessing, too.”

  “Thank you. Ryan has been learning to bond with his culture. His Paiute mother died when he was just a boy, and he was raised by his Anglo father.”

  “He told me that his father passed away a few years ago and how they had a strained relationship.”

  “I’ve never had any of those issues in my family.”

  “Which parent of yours was Native?” There was still so much about him that she didn’t know and that he hadn’t shared.

  “My mom, and she was very influential in how I was raised. At my first wedding, I incorporated a Cherokee tradition into the ceremony, for myself, as much as for my mother.”

  She leaned forward. He’d never mentioned that part of his wedding before. “What type of tradition?”


  “We drank from a Cherokee Wedding Vase. It’s a vessel that has two openings so the bride and groom can drink from it at the same time.”

  “That sounds lovely.” It also reinforced how connected he was to his first wedding. But he’d done the best he could at their ceremony, she reminded herself. She couldn’t fault him for that.

  He said, “I’d considered wearing a ribbon shirt when I married Corrine because that’s the traditional Cherokee wedding attire from the old days, but I went for a tux instead.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it fit better with what she was wearing. We blended our traditions.”

  “Tell me more about traditional Cherokee weddings,” she said, wanting to learn as much about his culture as she could. “Describe one to me.”

  “First off, the wedding site would be blessed for seven consecutive days. Then at the ceremony itself, the bride and groom would approach a sacred fire, each bearing gifts.”

  “What kind of gifts?”

  “The groom would bring venison or some sort of other meat and the bride would bring corn. Those items were symbolic of him being a hunter and her tending to the farm.”

  “Kind of like the bow and sifter tradition?”

  “Yes, it’s very much like it.”

  “Go on, tell me the rest.”

  “Cherokee songs would be sung, and the bride and groom would be covered in blue blankets. After those blankets were removed, one white blanket was placed over both of them. Then, instead of exchanging rings, they exchanged the food they’d brought with them.”

  “That part is similar to what Ryan and Victoria did.”

  “In the old Paiute way, weddings weren’t necessarily marked by ceremony, so Ryan incorporated some things that felt right to him. The basket they used was of Paiute origin, but it was originally made for a Navajo wedding. The Paiute have been making baskets for the Navajo for over a century.”

  “And the blanket?”

  “I told him about Cherokee tradition, and he loosely borrowed the idea, using only one blanket instead of three.”