The Doctor's Daughter: A Virtue, Arizona Novel

by Patricia Green

  His crude bedroom talk made her squirm and roil inside. "Oh!"

  Again, he licked, and teased her with tongue, teeth, and lips. She wriggled and fretted, not knowing what to think or even if to think rather than simply feel. It was so good. Her whole body felt on fire. The burning centered between her thighs, the new sensations scorching her emotions. When he began to suck and tickle her button, her hips rose sharply, but he kept her from pulling away very far. The sensation was exquisite, unlike anything else she'd ever felt before. The pleasure was sharp, radiating sparks from that pleasure center throughout her body. Tears stung her eyes, it felt so good.

  He pushed a finger into her passage and continued to tickle and suck. That moving finger was enough. She'd had enough and couldn't take any more. It was too much to control. She bit her knuckles to keep from screaming as she came to him with the power of a hundred-foot waterfall, crashing on the rocks below.

  A few more licks and he withdrew his mouth. She'd squeezed her eyes shut as sensation overwhelmed her, but now she looked at him. His chin and mouth were wet—wet from her spendings. He was so handsome, and his boyish grin turned her heart in her chest, expanding her love for him.

  She gestured for him to come up on her body and kiss her. When he got there, she was a little concerned, smelling her own sweet juices on his face, wondering if it was right to kiss him. Surely it was an even worse sin than those they'd committed thus far. But she kissed him anyway, and it wasn't bad. It was part of them, a part they'd made together.

  "You," she murmured. "You should spend, too."

  "Are you all right? I don't want to cause you pain by taking my pleasure."

  "You could never cause me pain, my love. I want you to have pleasure with my body, as I take pleasure in what you do for me."

  He rose on strong forearms and wriggled his lower body against hers. She felt his cock moving across the plane of her stomach then lower against her pussy lips. Encouraging him, she widened her knees and wrapped her ankles around his thighs. She didn't have to hint further, because he found the center of her with one smooth thrust.

  "Ah," she moaned. "Yes. So good."

  He said nothing, beginning his journey in and out, and the pressure again rose in her belly, deep in her womb where the sensation was centered. He kept on the path, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting him deeper, wanting so much from him her heart ached and her head spun. Faster and faster he traveled to and fro, faster and faster beat her heart. He closed his eyes, concentration beading his brow, and she loved every second as she stared at his face, but soon the feeling deep in her body stopped allowing conscious thought. All she could do was be, be with him, be in the moment.

  Once again, the mirror that reflected her very soul shattered and fell to pieces, and from somewhere outside herself, she heard him grunt his pleasure. She savored that simple sound. She had been a part of his pleasure. She had been central to his lusty peak. She felt like a conqueror, planting her flag, taking the territory unclaimed by another. He was hers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was late when they finally went to sleep, but Verity set the alarm clock for five o'clock, intending to be back in her room before the family or Mrs. Perkins arose. But the wind-up alarm had run down and it didn't clang, so she slept until the sun poked her in the eyes. Looking at the clock was no help. It had stopped at 4:06 a.m.

  She scrambled out of bed, wishing a sleepy Joshua a good day, and kissing him on his stubbly cheek. After she threw on her nightgown, she opened his bedroom door with great care and peeked into the hallway. No one was about. All she had to do was cross the hall and scurry up the stairs. Once she got up the stairs, she could make an excuse for being in her nightdress, even if she did run into a family member. Upstairs was where everyone slept and sometimes came out of their rooms to borrow a frock or shoes from a sister.

  She hadn't made it to the staircase when Charity came out of the dining room into the hall. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Verity only feet from Joshua's door. "Verity?" She looked at her sister then at Joshua's closed door and back again. "Verity? Have you done something you want to talk about?"

  Oh, how she did want to talk about it. She needed a confidant. Getting one of her sisters embroiled had been too impolite, asking too much of them to hold such a sinful secret. But here was Charity, the sister Verity felt closest too, encouraging her to tell all her troubles and confide in her. Charity was trustworthy. They'd shared many secrets through childhood.

  "I'm afraid it's very bad, my dear," she told Charity, trying to give her sister an out.

  "As bad as stealing candy from the mercantile when you were ten?"

  "Worse."

  "As bad as covering up for me when I kissed Johnny Cass behind the schoolyard shed?"

  "Worse."

  "Oh, dear. Do you want to talk about it?"

  "Very much. But it is a deep, dark secret. I must swear you to silence."

  "You have my word. I love you, Verity. I will not allow you to harm yourself, but I am also aware that you are an adult and may have adult problems." Once again, she looked at Joshua's door, this time nodding toward it before turning back to Verity.

  She needed this outlet for sharing her fears and her confusion. Perhaps Charity could help clarify things for her. "Yes, I'd like to talk. Please, come up to my room before someone else discovers me in this compromising position."

  "Very well."

  Together they hurried up the staircase and into Verity's room.

  There, on Verity's unmade bed with its white sheets and yellow-striped coverlet, they sat together and Verity explained how she'd been drawn to Joshua, how she knew it was dangerous, but how she couldn't resist him, and was no longer willing to try. She confessed her fears, including her fear that God would smite her for being such a sinner. For that, Charity had an immediate answer.

  "God is love," she said. "He loves you no matter your sins. Ask for forgiveness in your prayers and you will receive it." She paused, but when Verity didn't go on, she added, "You realize that it's an impossible situation. There is no way to know what you're really getting yourself into. It's dangerous in the extreme."

  Verity hung her head, releasing her sister's hand. "I can't seem to help myself. I thought I could, but, Charity, I love him."

  "Sometimes, my dear, love is not enough."

  Tears began to fall from Verity's eyes and she wiped them away with the inner part of her cuff. "It must be. I cannot go back."

  Charity rubbed her back. "Papa might have an answer."

  "I can't tell this to Papa!"

  "You can tell parts of it to him. You can tell him that you've fallen in love with Joshua, and that you don't know what do to about it. If Joshua tells him much the same, as you said he promised, Papa will help you find an answer to your dilemma."

  "Or he'll tell me to buck up and fall out of love as fast as I fell in."

  Charity paused before responding. "That may be true, but you won't know unless you try."

  "Oh, Charity, I'm so tired. Tired of hiding my feelings, hiding my rendezvous, pretending to be friendly and polite when I want to be passionate and loving."

  "It sounds exhausting."

  Verity caught her sister's gaze with her own. "It is."

  "I hate to bring this up, Verity, and you would know better than I about these things, but have you considered you might be increasing?"

  Verity burst into tears again. "It would be just my luck, too! And I'd deserve the scandal and snubs. But I don't want to bring it down on everyone. If I prove to be pregnant, I'll have to run away. Hopefully, Joshua will still be here to run away with me, otherwise if he comes back here to find me, he'll find me gone. That would be an ironic turn of events."

  "Where would you go?"

  "I have no idea. Tucson? Phoenix? I don't know. I could travel back to Boston. I couldn't finish my education without Papa's financial support, but I can work as a midwife without having the diploma.
"

  "We shall hope for the best. I'll pray for you. I shall always be here for you to talk to, my dear. Always. Your secrets are safe with me. As I said, you are an adult. These are adult matters with adult solutions."

  "I wish I were a child again, unconcerned about these things and worrying only about Bobby Dobson dipping my pigtails in ink."

  Charity gave her a tentative smile, and watery though it was, Verity returned it.

  "It will be all right. You'll find a way. Trust Joshua as well. He's a good man. A man with a nefarious past could not behave as well as he has. A tiger can't change his stripes."

  "I hope you're right, Charity. I pray you're right."

  "Rest now, sister. I'll tell everyone you're feeling a bit poorly this morning and need extra sleep. Granny might fuss a bit, but so long as you seem recovered by luncheon, it will blow over."

  Verity took her hands. "Thank you. Thank you. I love you."

  Charity stood and saw to it that Verity was tucked into her bed. "I love you, too. Sleep well."

  Verity watched the door close behind her sister, and lay staring at the ceiling for a long time. She was exhausted but sleep was slow to come. What if she were pregnant? What if Joshua left her? What if the sheriff found a way to kick him out of town? What if Papa threw him out of the house after finding out they were in love? So many unknowns. She was careening down a dangerous road. Who knew what lay ahead.

  * * *

  True to his recent habits, Joshua shared luncheon with the Bucknells. Granny was in fine fettle that day, talking about the new chickadee family behind the house, and one of the neighbors' cats she'd had to shoo away from the birds several times. Mercy had had some sort of breakthrough with her phonograph improvements, but no one understood what she was talking about. And Hope was waxing rhapsodic about a fellow in town who was finally beginning to notice her. You'd have thought he was the only young man on the planet the way she spoke of him.

  Joshua soaked it all up and joked with them as they shared the family time together. When the meal was over, he asked to see Dr. Bucknell in his study. Unfortunately, the older man had to travel out near Prescott to see to a sick patient and would be gone for the afternoon and into the evening. A conversation together would have to wait.

  Sitting with the ladies in the parlor for a few hours was pleasant, but soon it was time to make his way into town to the Horn Inn. Joshua had almost enough money to hold him until he could find a more reputable job. He wanted to satisfy Verity and prove to her that he loved her. If Gritch got on his back for not leaving town, he could only hope that a word from Dr. Bucknell would make a difference.

  The saloon was busy, smoky, and loud, same as always. A bunch of cowboys had come to town that day, and the atmosphere was rowdier than usual. Joshua fully expected that the gaming tables would be full to capacity with young bucks with forty dollars in their pockets and an eagerness to gamble, drink, and fornicate. Joshua was more than happy to get a share of their money, if he could.

  He sat at his favorite table as soon as another gent got up. He was playing with several people he knew and he greeted them by name. Several hours of play passed, and Joshua was up by about one hundred and ten dollars. A small man with dark hair and a big, black mustache stood looking at the table for at least an hour, and as soon as someone got up, the little guy hurried over and took his chair. He pulled a few treasury notes out of a pocket and, seeing that everyone else was playing with coins, stuffed them back in his pocket and took out around forty dollars in five and one dollar coins. He hadn't removed his coat, nor his high top derby hat, and his posture said he was tense.

  The players all nodded their acceptance of the new fellow, and everyone put in a five-dollar coin to ante. The dealer dealt the cards. The man with the huge mustache stared at his cards and then at the players around the table. There was something familiar about that gaze. Maybe they'd met at a table before. The play continued.

  Several men folded, one man bet, Joshua called, and the mustachioed man called also. When it came time to show their cards, both the bettors, including Mustache, threw their cards down face down.

  "Damn!" said Mustache. His voice was a little high, but he cleared his throat and said it again. That was better, but those eyes were still familiar. And wasn't his skin a little pale for a man with black hair?

  No matter. He was losing his money and Joshua was winning it so he could be Methuselah for all he cared.

  The familiarity felt too peculiar, so after a few more hands had passed—and it came to be the small man's turn to deal, Joshua asked, "Do I know you from somewhere, Mister? Have we played cards together before?"

  "Nope," he said with a growl. "Don't know you. Play cards." He dealt efficiently enough, following the rules of the game.

  Joshua played, but kept an eye on Mustache. He was losing steadily, throwing away his cards on every hand. In fact, he was running out of money.

  "Cigar? Drink?" said a barmaid, sidling up to Joshua and sitting in his lap.

  "I'll have my usual, thanks, Mary."

  "Sure, sugar. Anyone else?"

  Others placed orders, including the mustachioed man, and when asked if there was a particular brand, he pointed to Joshua and said, "What he's having."

  Joshua found that a little strange, but said nothing. They played a few minutes more and the drinks and cigars showed up. Joshua didn't have a cigar, but he did have a small glass of whiskey. So did the small man. Joshua raised a glass to the man, and in turn the man raised his glass. "Here's to you, stranger," Joshua said, watching. He was getting a crazy idea, but it was so crazy he doubted himself.

  When Joshua downed his whiskey in one gulp, the man did the same and then sputtered and coughed, ending up wiping spittle off his lips with the back of the arm of his black coat. His face was red and eyes wet.

  "You okay?" asked a table-mate.

  "Sure. Stuff is rot gut. This place don't have nothing worth drinking. I think I'll abstain from now on."

  Knowing that the whiskey was, in fact, the best quality they had, Joshua was pretty certain he knew what was going on. He played a few more hands until the small fellow ran out of money. He looked truly unhappy, and offered to trade a woman's ring to stay in the game. He'd almost sold it to another when Joshua outbid by several dollars and won the ring. "Let's take a break to finish our transaction, Mister," he told the little guy, whom he now recognized entirely. "Outside."

  "Outside?"

  "Yep. Outside. I need the fresh air."

  "But—"

  "Come on." He took the charlatan's arm and dragged her out into the alley behind the saloon.

  She tried not to look him in the eye, but he caught her chin. "Hey, whatcher doin'?" she cried, trying to sound gruff, her voice grinding through a low register. "I got a mind to pop you in the nose."

  Joshua ripped off her mustache and exposed Verity's face. "You little scamp," he said. "What do you think you're doing in a saloon playing cards?"

  "It was a lark. A bet among my sisters and I. It was only a coincidence that you were there."

  "You're lucky I was there, you mean. Those fellows would have eaten you for supper if they'd found out you are a woman."

  "I was holding my own!"

  Joshua gave her a stern glare. "You don't think that anyone else at that table would have eventually recognized you were a woman?"

  She shuffled her feet in boots that were too big.

  "And where did you get those clothes?"

  "The charity box."

  "Verity! I ought to blister your butt." He thought about it for a moment. "This was no bet. You came to check up on me."

  "Maybe. And oh what I saw!"

  "What did you see?"

  "I saw you drinking whiskey, and I saw you flirting with the barmaid, that hussy. I saw how she looked at you."

  He laughed. "How did she look at me?"

  "Like you were a ham supper on Sunday."

  He laughed harder. She'd fisted her hands and was
glaring at him. "What's so goddamn funny?" she demanded.

  "Watch your language, woman."

  "I'll speak any damn way I want to. You men speak that way. Why not me?"

  "Just because you're masquerading as a man, doesn't mean you are a man. Follow me."

  She did follow, taking shuffling, awkward steps in her too-big shoes. "Where are we going?"

  "To the shed."

  "Why?"

  He looked at her over his shoulder. "You know why."

  "Oh, no. We're not doing that again. You can't make me." She turned and began to shuffle-march back to the saloon. He took two steps and caught her by the arm.

  "I can and will make you. This is outrageous, Verity. I don't want you checking up on me. Don't you trust me at all?"

  She resisted his pull toward the shed, but was unsuccessful at getting away. "I trust you. I was worried about you."

  "I'm a big boy and can take care of myself," he pointed out, opening the door to the shed. There was a kerosene lamp hanging from the rafters; he could just make it out. Striking a match, he lit up the lamp in the small woodshed which housed coal and wood for warming up the saloon during cold spells. It was dusty, and motes flew all around them as they stood in the light.

  There were two crates stacked up on the right wall, so Joshua pulled her over to them and sat down.

  "I can't believe you went out without a petticoat and corset. What were you thinking? You really deserve this."

  "I'm not what you think I am, Joshua Smith. I'm a woman with gumption. I'll kick your ass if you spank me again."

  Joshua found that so funny that he nearly fell off the crates. He let go of her, but apparently, she was so mad she'd forgotten to run away. Instead, she stood spitting daggers at him from her eyes.

  He continued chuckling, even while he asked, "What would you do if one of your sisters performed a stunt like this?"

  "I'd-I'd… I dunno."

  "You'd get mad. You'd insist that your father do something about it. Punish her."

  "We don't get spanked!"