“As I want to do now.”
“Here?” she teased, copying his astonishment.
He laughed huskily, his longing naked in his voice. “I hadn’t planned on making love with you in my office, but, a stór, does it matter where we are as long as we’re alone here?” Standing, he twisted a key in the lock she had not noticed.
As he walked back to her, she held up her hands to him. He took them as he knelt again beside her. Saying nothing, he reclined her back and leaned over her. He lifted her braids and slipped his finger into the plaits. His gaze held hers, promising her that they would share every pleasure, and his finger slid along a braid. It loosened, scattering her hair around her. Pulling her other braid over her, he began to undo it.
She quivered as his finger glided along her, grazing her neck and stroking her breast. When her hair drifted about her, he smoothed it away. His fingers traced a meandering path of delight along her body until they curved around her face.
“My sweet Cailin,” he whispered.
“Samuel, a ghrá mo chroi,” she answered as he brought her lips beneath his. She welcomed his kiss, glad he had not asked her to translate, for she was unsure how he would react to knowing she had called him the love of her heart.
Putting her arms around him, she held him to her. His hair caressed her face when his hungry lips elicited pleasure along her neck. She traced the curve of his ear, and his rapid breath seared her skin.
He impatiently loosened her gown and pulled her clothes from her and tossed them, unnoticed, beside his on the floor. When she leaned over him, she sighed with the deliciously powerful satisfaction of his skin against hers. The sensation became more splendid each time they were together and had haunted her dreams when she had not been with him.
His eyes burned with emerald desire as she ran a single finger across his lips and over his chin. The bronzed skin along his chest could not conceal his accelerating heartbeat when her fingers sought the lean line of his hips. When he writhed beneath her light touch, she bent forward to taste the fire on his lips. Her tongue stroked his mouth as lightly as her fingers moved along him, then flicked scintillating sparks on his skin, taking the same sensual journey her finger had.
Moaning her name, he tangled his hands in her hair. She explored his firm skin’s warmth and a ticklish spot along his ribs, setting him to laughter amid his quick breaths. His laughter faded into a gasp when her tongue swirled along him in a wave of incredible, intimate ecstasy.
Wanting only to give him the rapture he offered her, she discovered anew how bringing her most devilish fantasies to life fueled that bewitching flame within her. The essence of his skin, the roughly silken texture of it against her mouth, the musky scent of his desire immersed her in a flood of craving.
His strong hands on her shoulders brought her over him again, brushing her body along his. When his hands framed her face, he stared into her eyes, his gaze glazed with yearning. Slowly he guided her lips over his. His hands set her afire with their lustrous caress. Settling them on her hips, he kept her mouth busy with his probing tongue while he pressed her down over him. As he delved deep within her, she moaned his name into his mouth, conquered by the tempest of passion.
Melded together by the power racing around and through them, she moved with him. Lightning hot, the yearning became need, the ecstasy became torment. It whirled her with him into an immeasurable eddy of rapture, dissolving her into it and into him. It was everything she wanted.
The day of the fair dawned as hot as any in the middle of summer and with a squeal when the bedroom door crashed open. Lottie clambered up onto the bed and over the top of Samuel to announce, “I’m four. I’m four. It’s my birthday!”
Cailin sat up, halting her. It was too late to worry that Lottie had discovered them here together. She would need to watch Lottie closely to make sure she did not speak of this at the fair. “Lottie, you shouldn’t be disturbing Samuel before the sun is up over the horizon.”
“Samuel,” the little girl said, “tell Mama that today is my birthday.”
“That’s a fact she’s more likely to know than I would.” He tugged on Lottie’s braid. “Go and feed your kitten, Quarter-pint.”
“When are we leaving for the fair?” she asked, bouncing up and down.
“After breakfast.” He picked her up and dropped her to the floor. “Go and feed your kitten, Quarter-pint.”
Skipping out of the room, Lottie crowed again and again that it was her birthday.
“I’m sorry she woke you,” Cailin said, swinging her feet to the side of the bed. “I should go. Lottie’s celebration is sure to wake her brother and sister, if they’re not already awake and anxious to get to the fair.”
He threw off the sheet and hooked an arm around her, drawing her to him. She trembled when his bare chest brushed her. Lifting aside her braid, he pressed his lips to her nape. He loosened one button, then another on her collar and pushed it aside as his lips swept along her skin. His hand rose to cup her breast at the same moment he whispered against her ear, “Brendan is at the fairgrounds. Remember?”
“How … How …?” She moaned when his fingers toyed with the curve of her breast.
Laughing, he released her. “Can you talk now?”
“You like unnerving me, don’t you?” She smiled as she ran her fingers up his bare chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Brendan as happy as he was last night when we left him at the fair with his cow.”
“His prize-winning cow, as I think he told me a dozen times.”
“I hope he won’t be disappointed if his cow doesn’t win a ribbon.”
“What makes you think she won’t win?” Rolling her onto her back, he smiled down at her. “Don’t you think I’ve taught him to do everything he can to get what he wants?”
Cailin laughed softly.
“What’s so amusing, a stór?” he whispered.
“Not funny. Happy.”
“I’m happy, too. To have you here with me.” His smile faded as he said, “I haven’t asked you, and you haven’t said, but I need to know. Are you continuing with your plans to return to Ireland?”
“There’s nothing back there for me.”
“Your father’s farm—”
“It was a tenant farm, so someone else will already have claimed it. His fiddle is his only legacy to me.”
“Are you still planning to go back there?” he asked again.
Running her fingers across the whiskers on his cheeks, she repeated, “There’s nothing back there for me.”
“Are you staying in Haven?”
“Do you want me to?”
“That’s an absurd question.”
“Please answer it.”
He leaned across her. “Cailin, I don’t want to lose any of you.”
“The children—”
“Not one of you.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “I thought I’d never be able to wait until you welcomed me into your arms again. All I could think of was carrying you off.”
“If you carried me all the way to your bed, you would have exhausted yourself so much that you wouldn’t have had any energy left.”
“I wouldn’t say that!” With a rakish laugh, he leaned over her. The unending desire in his eyes washed over her, urging her to stroke his back again. “No matter what happens, I’ll always have this ache to make love with you again and again and …”
His words vanished into her lips as she drew him to her again. She had no idea how much longer this magnificent joy would be hers, but she was going to enjoy every moment of it, not worrying if it was the last. She had lived too long worrying about the future—waiting to hear from Abban, sailing to America, working to obtain money to provide for her children. Now she wanted to think only of this minute and this man.
Cailin waved aside dust as she stepped down from the rockaway carriage at the fairgrounds. What had been an empty field edging up to the river held more people than she had guessed lived around Haven. Animals, in
even greater number than people, were making every possible sound they could, and the fairgoers were talking over them. Aromas of food being prepared mixed with the scents from the barns.
Two barns were set beside a large, roped-off oval where horse races would be held later in the day. In the opposite direction was the boxing ring and hints of music. She could not see what was making it, but the sound added to the joyous mood. The western horizon was emphasized by a low, gray line. She hoped, after they had waited so long for rain, that the storm could stay away until the day’s entertainment was over.
“Let’s take my rabbit to be judged!” shouted Megan as she jumped down, sending more dust floating around them.
Putting Lottie on the ground, Samuel adjusted the little girl’s bonnet. “Why don’t we find Brendan first? Rabbit judging isn’t for a few hours.” He lifted the cage from the back seat. “We’ll take your rabbit into the agricultural building where he can be cool; then we’ll find Brendan.”
The two girls raced toward the bigger building where the animals would be judged. The smaller building held domestic items, such as food and needlework.
“You should have entered some of your delicious blackberry jam,” Samuel said as he offered Cailin his arm.
“I don’t think the children would have let more than the two jars I sent to Emma leave the house.” She smiled, placing her hand on his elbow. “With Megan and Brendan both having their pets judged, that’s enough suspense for this fair.”
“Maybe I should enter you in the kissing contest.”
“There’s a kissing contest here?”
Laughing, he said, “If I were smart, I’d say yes and that we need to practice.”
“You’re teasing me again.”
“Maybe I’ll suggest such a contest for next year.”
“Do that.”
“We’ll have to practice a lot between now and then.”
She laughed along with him, liking the idea that she would be in Haven a year from now. Staying here to watch the seasons unwind one after another was so tempting. When she saw the girls pausing to talk to a boy, she wondered how she could wrench them away from this place they now considered home.
That she now considered home, too.
As she walked around extra pens that had been set up at one side and into the barn, she smiled at people she recognized from the Grange Hall or the village. Their cordial greetings were mixed with commiseration about having a run-in with wasps.
“Mama! Samuel!” Brendan’s voice rang out over the others. “Over here.”
Cailin hurried through the maze of pens inside the barn to where her daughters were chatting with excitement as her son grinned broadly. The dark circles under his eyes and the pieces of straw in his hair warned that he had spent the night tending to his cow and getting little sleep. Yet she had never seen him look happier.
“You’re just in time,” he said. “They’ve already started judging.” He pointed to empty pens closer to the open area at one end of the barn.
“Good luck.” She hugged him, plucking out the straw at the same time.
Samuel balanced the rabbit’s cage on the wooden post at one end of the pen, where a lantern hung from a brad. “We’ll be cheering for you, Brendan.” He offered his hand to the boy, who took it with an even wider smile at the acknowledgment that he was old enough to have earned the respect of one man for another.
A man called from closer to the judging area, and Brendan changed back into a young boy.
“That’s me!” he cried. “I mean, that’s us! I have to go.”
“Go!” Samuel stepped aside, then asked, “Where are the rabbits?”
Brendan pointed with his elbow toward the other wall of the barn. He bent to check the black and white cow’s rear right leg.
Cailin herded her daughters ahead of her in the direction Brendan had indicated. Quickly, they arranged for the rabbit to be added to the list to be judged. Then they hurried to the open area to find a place around the rope separating it from the pens.
“Why didn’t you build a bigger barn?” asked Cailin as she inched through a space where the aisle narrowed to barely enough room for her to pass.
“The planners must not have known so many entries would be here on fair day.” Samuel picked up Lottie and set her on his shoulders when they reached the rope and the crowd gathered around it.
Megan squeezed in front of him and applauded enthusiastically when Brendan led his cow into the judging area.
Cailin watched, so proud she feared her exultant smile would not fit on her face. When Samuel put his arm around her waist, she saw a matching smile on his face. He should be proud; he had inspired Brendan to work toward this moment.
More quickly than she had guessed, the judge walked around each cow. He pulled out three ribbons. He handed the white one to a man whose hair was the same color, then walked across the area to give the red one to Brendan. She cheered so hard that she did not see which entrant got the first-place blue ribbon.
“We’ll meet him outside,” Samuel said as he motioned for them to follow. “It’ll be quicker than trying to go through the barn. I don’t think we could cram ourselves through the crowd again.”
“But my rabbit—” Megan began.
“We’ll check on it later. The rabbit judging won’t begin until the cattle and sheep groups are completed late this afternoon.”
Slipping her hand into his, Cailin held out her other one to Megan. She looked toward the west. The clouds were no closer, but they appeared a deeper, more malevolent ebony. The longer the storm remained away from Haven, the longer they had to enjoy the day.
Brendan ran up to them, along with his friend Sean and Jesse Faulkner. “Look! A ribbon! A red ribbon!” He was jumping up and down like Lottie.
Cailin hugged him, half-expecting him to flinch away while his friends were watching. “I’m so proud of you.”
Samuel gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ve worked hard, Brendan. You’ve earned that ribbon.”
A man called to Brendan from the barn. Grinning, the boy hurried to see what the man wanted.
“He did it,” Samuel said with a chuckle.
“With your help,” Cailin replied.
He bowed deeply, sending the two girls into peals of laughter. “’Tis my pleasure to be able to assist, Mrs. Rafferty.”
“We’re most grateful, Mr. Jennings.” She curtsied, and the girls giggled more.
Putting his arm around her waist again, he whispered, “I’ll be glad to let you show me just how grateful you are later.”
“Then it will be my pleasure.”
“Ours, a stór.”
She kissed his cheek lightly. “Most definitely ours.” She stared at the longing in his eyes. Was there more than desire there? Oh, please let this be love I see in your eyes.
“Samuel!” came a shout.
Cailin turned to see Reverend Faulkner and Alice Underhill—no, Alice Hahn—along with her new husband hurrying toward them. With them was Mr. Thanington, whose expression was somewhere between a smile and a grimace as they steered him across the dusty field.
Putting her hand on Lottie’s shoulder before the little girl could race to meet them, she hushed the child, who was talking about her invisible friend Dahi and wanting to show him the rabbit. Lottie gave her a puzzled glance but subsided as the others reached them.
“Samuel,” said the minister, panting from the exertion of rushing on such a hot day, “we need you to hear this.”
“This?” he asked, looking at Mr. Thanington.
“You’re a dashed difficult man,” the Englishman said, chuckling. “I didn’t expect to have my offer to the village returned to me with so many comments.”
“Then I assume you’ve read them.”
Cailin hid her smile of pride as Samuel responded in an affable tone. Only his hand tightening at her waist told her how anxious he truly was to hear Mr. Thanington’s comments.
“I read them,” Mr. Thanington said
as he wiped dust from his rooster-red vest. “I can’t say I appreciated your questioning some of my suggestions. However, I’ve come to see the sensibility of them.” He held out his hand. “It’s agreed, then.”
“Just like that?” Samuel asked, clearly astonished.
“Unless you want to negotiate some more.”
“No, I know when to quit.”
Mr. Thanington laughed. “I do as well, but do think, Jennings, about reconsidering my request to help me with clearing the title to Thanington Hills.”
“Your attorney—”
“I haven’t hired one in the United States, and, to be honest, I find your legal system somewhat confusing.”
Samuel smiled. “I can suggest an excellent attorney for you. He’s in Cincinnati, so it wouldn’t be too much of a journey for him to come and speak with you.”
“Do call at your convenience. I look forward to talking with you about this attorney.” He tipped his hat to Cailin. “Good day, Mrs. Rafferty.”
“Mr. Thanington,” she said.
His eyes twinkled, and she guessed he was amused at the way she had undermined his attempt to pass himself off as a lord. Bidding them all a pleasant day, he walked away, his gold-tipped cane glistening in the sunshine.
“We’ve got our library. We did it!” Samuel twirled her about and set her on her feet, kissing her soundly. The children laughed, and Reverend Faulkner offered his hand in congratulations.
Pumping his hand, the minister said, “This is even more than I’d prayed for.”
“It’s wonderful,” Alice added. She glanced at her husband. “I told you that miracles can happen.”
“I think we’re all sure of that now,” Reverend Faulkner replied.
As the three walked away, discussing when they would start building the shelves for the library, Cailin heard a distant rumble of thunder. She glanced toward the western sky. The clouds were climbing up from the horizon, but slowly.
“Shall we eat?” she asked, seeing Samuel look at the sky, too. “Then we can visit the rest of the fair.”
After the Storm Page 27
