He leaned forward, looking around Luke to glare at her. “That’s sass, Letty dear. You know how I feel about that.”
She stood. “I think I hear Micah waking up from his nap. He’ll want a snack. Then if his mama’s up to it, I’m sure she’d like a visit.”
“She would at that. Thanks, ma,” Luke said with a grin, recognizing his mother’s evasive maneuvers, having seen her adeptly sidestep his pa often over the years. “Tell her I’ll be along in a minute. See that he doesn’t tire her out. Janelle said it might be a few days before she regains her strength.”
“I won’t let him wear her down before you get there. I’ve seen firsthand he has the energy to exhaust the four adults who have watched him these past few days.” She bent and brushed a kiss on top of his head as she’d done when he was a boy, next leaning to press a kiss to her still frowning husband’s cheek. “I have crumb cake in the kitchen, honey.”
“Are you trying to sweeten me up, woman?”
“Will it work?”
“Damn straight.”
Luke chuckled as his pa rose, wrapped an arm around his mother’s waist, and walked arm in arm with her into the house. If he and Wisteria had that kind of enduring love thirty some years in the future, he’d consider himself truly blessed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
They spent two days at the big house. Despite Wisteria’s protests the next morning that she was fit to go home, Luke had put his foot down, insisting she rest while his mother was there to help with Micah before heading home where she had to take care of an active one-year-old and their household on her own.
Once again, her husband was right because the day they came home, by the time she spent the morning getting caught up on laundry, tending her neglected garden, and preparing lunch, she curled up in bed next to Micah and took a two-hour afternoon nap.
After that, she took him outside to play, swinging with him while he squealed with delight, then watching as he played with the Labrador pups Luke’s dog Lady was weaning and sending out to explore on their own. As he laughed, his brown eyes danced with joy, one and the same with his father. This turned her thoughts to her husband. She hadn’t seen him laugh since the day she’d admitted her deceptions. The guilt she felt over what she’d put him and his family through was unbearable. If he didn’t bring up the discussion he’d been putting off while she recovered, she planned to. Even if it meant getting the punishment she knew was coming. She actually believed that might help them get beyond this and start to move forward.
That night after supper, when she brought Micah down after his bath to kiss his daddy goodnight, she mentioned it—though not right away, taking a few moments to get up the courage as she watched her husband and son together. Luke lay flat on his back on the floor, his large hands supporting Micah as he bounced his diapered behind on his broad chest and busily pulled at his buttons.
She cleared her throat and asked hesitantly, “After I put him to bed, do you think we could have that talk and clear the air?”
He rolled his head her way, considered her for a moment, and then nodded.
“Go on up and get ready for bed. While you do, I’ll put him down and lock up.”
“Are you sure? He’s still bright-eyed, it might take a while.”
He sat up, lifting Micah high over his head. “We’ll read a bedtime story and settle in, won’t we, Micah?”
“Da-da, da-da, ba-ba,” he jabbered back, which made Luke grin. “We’ll be fine, darlin’. I’ve got this.”
She nodded and climbed the stairs with a heavy heart.
An hour later, she heard the nursery door close with a soft thump and the thud of his boots on the runner in the hall. From her perch on the end of the bed, she watched the open doorway, anxiously waiting for him to appear. When he did, he entered and closed it tightly behind him. Usually, they left it open so they could hear Micah if he woke. The times they didn’t were when their discussions—a euphemism she’d learned long ago meant a stern lecture and hot bottom courtesy of her husband—became noisy.
He didn’t look at her, his head lowered, focused on the tips of his boots as he stood just inside the door, his hands on his hips. “You lied to me,” he said bluntly, without preamble. Then he began to pace the length of the floor, his booted feet scuffing along the braided rug or tapping a staccato rhythm on the bare wood floors giving proof of his agitation. “I can’t believe you kept a stash of stolen goods from me for three months. And by doing so, placed yourself and Micah at risk. Furthermore, you ran off alone to save Micah, which was brave, yet incredibly foolish. Any of us could have told you Sanders and his ilk would have nothing but a double-cross planned, which he did and it resulted in you getting kidnapped.” He paused. As he did, he lifted his head and shot her a harassed look. “I nearly lost my mind with worry, Wisteria. And when the search went on through the night and all the next day and turned up nothing, I nearly came apart. At one point I almost slugged Sheriff Bozeman. As it was, my brothers had to pull me off of him, I was so riled up. Wouldn’t that have been a fine state of affairs, me behind bars for acting like a horse’s ass while at the other end of town you were being held prisoner in a whorehouse?”
He folded tiredly into a chair by the door, his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands, unquestionably tormented as the memories of that night assailed him.
“Luke.” His name came out in a sob as she rushed across the room and knelt at his feet, her hands covering his as she pulled them away from his face. “This was all my fault, please don’t torture yourself so.”
He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and drew her close, until she felt the heat of his breath on her face. So raw was his state of mind that what he had endured that night came tumbling out. “The thought of you in that foul place haunts me. And when I found you in that rat-infested attic—”
“Rats!” She shuddered. “You didn’t tell me that part.”
“You only know the aftermath—the finger-shaped bruises on your breasts, rope marks on your wrists, and the hazy disorientation from the poison you were given.” He crushed her to his chest in a ferocious hug as he buried his face in her neck. “I’m thankful you don’t remember—” Lying in a sheer chemise on the cold filthy floor in the pitch dark while enshrouded in linen, alone, unconscious, completely helpless. He didn’t tell her all of that though, finishing only by saying, “But it’s going to take me a very long time to get those images out of my head.”
With his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly, she broke down as heart-wrenching sobs racked her body. In response, he began to rock her back and forth slowly, his murmured words gruff with emotion.
“My intention isn’t to torment you further, but I need to make it clear that your actions have consequences, not solely for you, but for those who love you as well.”
She leaned back, wiping away the tears so she could see his face plainly. Tentatively, in case she’d misheard, she asked, “You love me?”
He heaved a beleaguered sigh. “Is that the only thing you heard out of all of that?”
“No, Luke. I swear I took it all in. I was thrown because you’ve never said you loved me before.”
“Why so surprised? I may be remiss with the words, but I thought I had at least showed you. And I likely wouldn’t get so enraged by your misdeeds if I didn’t.”
“I thought…” She looked down, replaying all the tender kisses and gentle caresses outside of the bedroom. All the times she’d thought she’d seen love for her reflected in his eyes hadn’t been false hope or an active imagination. A cry of relief broke from her lips. “Oh, Luke, I love you too.” Eagerly, she entwined her arms around his neck, her mouth seeking his out with an aching need for a kiss, but he leaned away, a curious expression creasing his brow.
“Whoa, darlin’, wait. You can’t leave that hanging. Tell me what you thought. Remember that keeping secrets is what brought us to this point in the first place.”
Containing a disappointed pou
t, she owned up to her private doubts. “I thought that the trouble I brought, as well as the secrets and lies, was more than you bargained for. And that you were putting up with me because of Micah, making the best of a bad situation, as you said on our wedding day.”
“Bad is your word. Though you must agree that at the time, we barely knew one another. One night together, a huge misunderstanding, a long separation followed by unanticipated parenthood didn’t exactly give us a solid footing to start a marriage.”
She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back her tears. Despite her effort, one spilled over and trickled down her cheek, still wet from before. She nodded. “I’m aware ours wasn’t a love match.”
“Yet, in the months since then, I’ve come to know you as more than a beautiful woman and loving mother. You’ve got an inner strength and determination that rivals no other. Those two qualities are surpassed only by your capacity to love. I’ve seen that every day in your care of our son, it’s apparent in the kindness and consideration you give to those around you, and in the affection you’ve extended to me and my family. I also see it in the forgiveness you gave your brother in spite of all the mistakes he made that negatively impacted you. Time after time, you were dealt a bad hand, but you didn’t give up. You dusted yourself off and went on. Those are the qualities that make you the woman I love, the one I want to spend my life with, and to raise my children.”
He paused to wipe her wet cheeks with his thumbs and place a soft, tender kiss on her lips.
“I swore if I got you back, things would be different. Something like this cannot and will not happen again. Your welfare, as well as Micah’s, is my first priority. To keep you safe, you are going to have to be completely honest with me, in all things. That means you tell me immediately of any threats, you don’t go haring off wildly on your own to save the day, and you don’t ever do anything that takes you away from us. Do you understand?”
“Absolutely. I have no excuse for my behavior other than my life these past few years has been out of control. I often compared myself to the little Dutch boy trying to hold back the breaks in the dam, but ran out of fingers and toes.”
“That ends here, Wisteria. You’re not alone anymore, but I can’t help you if you’re not truthful and don’t trust me with your troubles.”
“I realize that, now,” she acknowledged, pausing a moment to reflect. “After papa died, and before there was you, I didn’t have anyone to rely on other than myself and I didn’t have to consider anyone except me and Micah. I was alone to make good or bad decisions, to succeed or fail. I forget sometimes that you’ve brought me so much more, Luke, the love and support of a strong family most of all.”
“Wrong, most of all you have my love, and I don’t ever want you to forget that.” He pulled her into his arms and melded their lips in a fiery kiss. It ended too soon, his mind undeterred by passion. With his hands gripping her jaw, his fingers threaded in the silky hair at her temples, he stared down into the liquid pools of her violet-blue eyes and almost abandoned his purpose. But he felt strongly that would do neither of them any good.
“We’ll start fresh once more, Wisteria. Please, don’t disappoint me again.”
“I won’t, Luke. I promise.”
“That’s my girl,” he said as he lifted her off his lap and with a nudge, started her along toward the bed. “I’m going to spank you, to help you remember these promises, Wisteria. Go stand at the end of the bed and remove your gown. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Obediently, she crossed to the bed while pulling off her gown. She was folding it neatly, ready to set it aside while awaiting him patiently without a stitch on, when she heard the whoosh and snap of his belt through the loops of his Levi’s. A wave of apprehension coursed through her as her head snapped around. When she saw him hanging the wide leather belt on the hook inside the closet door, she heaved a tremulous sigh.
“Did you think I would take my belt to you?”
Gazing intently at her, he began methodically releasing the buttons on his dark broadcloth shirt. Unable to hold his penetrating stare, her eyes shifted downward, focusing on the long fingers that steadily exposed more of his muscular chest and flat rippling abdomen. She swallowed as he shrugged and bared his broad shoulders, her throat gone dry from both trepidation and the sight of her husband’s strong, masculine frame.
“Wisteria, I asked you a question. Did you think I’d strap your reckless behind?”
She shook her head. He’d never been that severe before. The flat of his hand and her hairbrush until now was the extent of it. Tonight, she was afraid something so mild wouldn’t suffice and she knew in her heart anything less wouldn’t be enough.
“I don’t know what I thought, Luke. Although I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
“Bend over the end of the bed with your bottom nice and high, darlin’. I’ll be right back.”
The position of the bed faced away from the door, so with her cheek on the quilt she couldn’t see what he was doing or where he went, but the noise told the tale. The floorboards creaked beneath his booted feet and the door hinges that were in sore need of some grease groaned as he opened the door. The same sounds announced his return a minute later as did the click of the door latch as he closed the panel firmly in place. Stopping beside her, she felt his body heat a moment before something bounced on the bed. A gasp of surprise left her parted lips as she turned her head and saw the two-inch-wide leather razor strop he’d retrieved from the bathroom.
“And what would you say if I used this to tan your wild, impulsive backside, wife?”
She didn’t hesitate, although her voice quavered slightly when she immediately replied, “That I deserved it.”
“I think you just might, darlin’. It’s a harsh penalty, I know for a fact because this is similar to what pa used on me when I wrecked his new wagon, nearly breaking my fool neck in the process. He goes on about the busted-up wagon to this day, but the fear I saw in his face when he almost wound up with a paralyzed son is what really earned me a licking. I’ll never forget that look of fear until my dying day and didn’t ever do anything to earn another such whipping.”
She looked over her shoulder, meeting his impassioned gaze directly. “I saw that look of fear in your face, too, Luke. When I awoke in your arms, as I lay shaking while the opium purged from my system, and then tonight, once more, in this very room. I still see the shadows of the distress I caused as you look at me now. I’ve been torturing myself over my behavior, and convinced myself I earned the spanking of my life.”
His fists planted in the mattress, bracketing her shoulders as he leaned over, his hair falling over his forehead as he got closer, stopping only inches away from her.
He didn’t blink when he asked, “Are you telling me you want a strapping?”
“No,” she replied immediately, then wavered. “I mean, yes. Well, not really, but even I think I deserve one.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Letty told you to take a strap to me?” Shock wedged the words in her throat.
“Remember how I said your actions affect others? My parents, Heath, Aaron, the entire family were worried sick. Ma said if you were her daughter, she would have thrashed you, which I took to mean a hard paddling until you had to eat your supper standing. Pa was being a little more tolerant, which is a huge shift from when I was growing up.” He arched a dark brow. “The question it seems is do I follow my mother or father’s advice?”
“Your mother. I deserve a real walloping.” She paused to wonder if her wits hadn’t totally flown out of her head and hastily added, “Though I really hate to disagree with your pa.”
Amusement flickered briefly across his face. “I can see why you wouldn’t. You do deserve a serious spanking, darlin’, but I’d already decided to be lenient, considering.”
“Lenient,” she repeated in a quiet voice, but then her temper suddenly flared. Twisting further, she rolled all the way onto her back so she could see him
fully. More disturbed by her own behavior than he was, it seemed, and angry on his and Micah’s behalf. He could have lost his wife, and Micah his mother, but he had decided to be lenient? Leniency didn’t teach the son Henry Jackson loved not to act the fool again. She glowered up at him. Maybe his feelings didn’t run as deep as she hoped.
“Lenient.” She snapped the word this time. Stiffening, she arched away. “Is that your answer to me doing something so incredibly stupid that I got our son kidnapped, and me sold to a brothel and nearly auctioned off? Does that even make sense?”
“I’m being considerate of what you’ve been through.”
“Which I directly caused.”
“You’re getting riled up for no reason, Wisteria—”
“No reason? I stole a small fortune from a gang of ruthless criminals. Then, being foolishly naïve in thinking they wouldn’t be able to find me here in Laramie, I brought them right to your door, Luke! It’s my fault that our son was kidnapped. But despite all of that, you’ve decided to be lenient?” She threw her words at him like stones, in her pique. “How benevolent of you to be so considerate. Leniency will surely teach me a lesson. Or maybe you don’t care enough to bother.”
For the first time since she’d been rescued, she saw his temper flare. “Not care enough to bother,” he growled. “Were you not listening to me for the last thirty minutes, or are you trying to make me blister your tail with that strip of leather?”
The flicker of angry impatience she saw on his face made her realize with that last remark she’d pushed too far. It both warmed and worried her enough that she backpedaled a bit, but was too riled as he’d suggested to surrender her point just yet. “I’m sorry for that last thoughtless remark, but I lied to you, Luke, like you said. For months I hid the truth about the trouble I was in when I should have come clean and let you protect us. I compounded that by riding off like a madwoman, putting our son in danger, getting myself kidnapped, beaten, drugged, and nearly sold at auction. Good heavens, if that isn’t enough to earn a sound walloping, what do I have to do? Visit the Red Eye and sit in on a poker game while getting flown on whiskey? Rob a bank? Ride naked like Lady Godiva down Main Street?”
Wild Wisteria Page 25
