Then their kiss grew hungrier—needier. She moaned, bringing her hands up to claw into his scalp.
Whatever reservations Duncan had had, they were clearly gone as he pulled and pushed her toward their bedroom.
***
Duncan lived off of his family’s money, unbeknownst to them—or, well, they probably knew by now. Either way, he kept his purchases cheap and his lifestyle manageable, so he hadn’t had to worry too much about finding a job just yet. And at times, he would sell some of his old things or barter with the neighbors, and that worked out fine with him. It had been lonely way to live though. He had enough money to last him years, but no one to share it with. He certainly couldn’t return home, and the people in town were either married or uninterested in someone as closed off and lazy as him.
Putting an ad for a wife in the paper had been a Hail Mary, and Elle’s response had been a miracle.
She wasn’t what he thought she would be; she was simple, flexible, undemanding, patient—a lovely woman, through and through. He had some doubts when he first sent his proposal to her, but she had been so eager to leave her city-life behind, and he had grown very curious about what she looked like and what she sounded like. He also was tired of his own loneliness, and even a little desperate to make it cease.
The moment he officially met Elle at the train station, Duncan hadn’t been disappointed. She was beautiful and charming. She had worn a baby blue dress and a dark bonnet, her vibrant eyes somewhere in between those two colors. And she was so straight-forward with him about every little thing—how she felt, what she wanted—and the way she flirted with him…at times, she actually had him blushing and stuttering like a schoolboy.
He could definitely fall for this woman. And now, a few days after their wedding, life was already better. Sleeping next to her seemed to be giving him pleasant dreams again, and hearing her walk around the house soothed the weariness out of his heart. Air was easier to breathe, despite the fact that the summer was muggy.
Sitting on the porch’s front steps, Duncan sipped from the glass of ice-cold lemonade Elle had brought out for him. He stared at the distant town with a hazy kind of awareness. The heat made the air warp and jiggle, and he watched it with curiosity while the beverage in his gut cooled him. So content, he thought he might just let himself drift off then and there—fall asleep in an awkward sitting position. Elle would wake him if she needed him. The thought had him smiling.
As if thinking her name had summoned her, Elle opened the front door and walked toward him. By the time he was turning to regard her, she had already plumped herself down next to him. She clutched his arm with both of her small hands, and he couldn’t help but smile wider in response.
She looked at him for a moment, her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together. She didn’t seem perturbed, rather calculating. Before he could ask her what was wrong, her expression broke out into one of pure joy and excitement. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted.
Duncan’s stomach dropped, and he nearly lost his grip on his glass. “Wha—?” It took him a few seconds to fully comprehend her words, and when he did, he furrowed his brow. “How could you know so soon? We just had…we…” He cleared his throat. Normally, he wouldn’t be so embarrassed about subjects like this, but Elle had made him…softer, in lack of a better term. “Is that possible?”
“Woman’s intuition,” she said proudly, still beaming at him. “Isn’t this great? We’re going to have a family. A little boy or a little girl.” She bounced a little in her seat, her grip on his arm tightening.
It wasn’t that Duncan hadn’t expected to have children with Elle, but he thought that it wouldn’t happen until much, much later. Hell, when one of his neighbors’ wives got pregnant, the two of them had been married for over three years. And when Duncan’s parents first conceived him, they had been married for eight months.
“Unbelievable,” he said, forcing himself to smile. He glanced her up and down, confused. “Are you sure? I mean…that’s awfully fast, don’t you think?”
“Trust me, darling,” Elle said, leaning against his shoulder and pressing a kiss against his jaw. “A woman knows when she is carrying a child.”
Duncan couldn’t think of a response to that. He supposed it made sense, not that he knew much about pregnancies or women’s anatomies. He gulped down the rest of his lemonade, the icy liquid sending pleasant chills throughout his torso and gut. It wasn’t quite as effective as a shot would have been to numb his sudden stress, but it was fine enough. And it was all he had at the moment.
“Are you alright?” she asked him, her tone much softer now. “You look worried.”
He lowered his glass and coughed up some lemon-flavored spittle. “I’m fine.” He nearly winced at his choice of words, and instead turned and grinned at her. “I’m really happy. I’m going to be a father.”
“It is exciting, isn’t?” She patted his shoulder. Then her entire expression shifted into something casual, as if the last few moments hadn’t even occurred. “Alright, I’m going to start making lunch. Is there anything in particular you feel like eating today? Preferably something that goes good with lemonade. I made a lot of that.”
He shook his head, and before he knew it, she was bounding up the porch’s steps and back into the house.
Duncan sighed, his chest constricting. He had been a terrible, terrible son to his own father. How could he raise a child? He wasn’t quite sure if he was a good husband yet. Elle seemed happy enough, but she also sometimes felt distant. Although, how could he blame her? They had only been with each other for a few days now.
He pressed his hand over his eyes. The summer heat sank into his flesh, and his heart thumped a little faster and a little harder. The idea of being trapped—having nowhere to escape, no options to consider—it constricted his throat a little, and a wheeze of a breath crawled out of his mouth.
He was going to be a father. Him. God, he was going to be terrible at it. That poor child. If Duncan had a little more time to prepare—more than nine months—then maybe he could have been okay at it. Maybe. He shook his head, his thoughts running in circles and taunting him.
The front door opened again, making Duncan jump and turn around. Elle was already sitting next to him again, and she was handing him a new glass of ice-cold lemonade.
“You finished your other one in quite a hurry,” she said. She gave him a knowing, gentle smile. “I thought you might like another one.”
Duncan, speechless, lowered the empty glass by his feet before taking the new one and drinking from it. The coolness did seem to untighten some of his guts, and he calmed somewhat.
Fiddling with her hands, Elle released a breath and glanced at her feet. “I’m sorry.”
Startled, Duncan nearly choked on his drink. Swallowing down his last gulp, he loudly cleared his throat and turned to her.
She was trying not to laugh at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think I should have waited to tell you. Let us be married for a while. I understand that this news is shocking. Maybe even overwhelming.”
“No,” he blurted, because that didn’t sound right. He didn’t admit to himself that he would have preferred her waiting at least a couple of weeks before telling him about the unborn baby; he didn’t want to be that big of an asshole. “No, we…there should be no secrets between us.” Ice of the uncomfortable kind encircled his heart, bitterness taunting him within seconds. He rubbed at the sudden discomfort in his chest. “I’m glad you told me.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice squeaking a little, “Because I mean, I was shocked, too, when I first realized I was…” She shrugged and glanced away, a distant look in her eyes. “Everyone expects you to be so overjoyed by such news, but in reality, there is a huge weight that comes with it. It can be scary.” She looked back at him and frowned. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more sensitive about it. I should have given you more time rather than tell you so hurriedly like I just did. I guess I wanted to get it ov…I wanted to
tell you. Because there should be any secrets between us—absolutely none.” Sweat coated her brow, and she wiped it away in a rushed manner.
Duncan swallowed thickly, guilt settling in his gut. “It’s not what you think,” he said. With reluctance, he felt as if he had to physically push out the following words from his mouth. “I wasn’t…I’m not a very good man. My family doesn’t like me, and I’m worried that I won’t do right by…by our child.” The words made him breathless and dizzy. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “I’ve never treated any kind of responsibility in the right way. How can I raise a child?”
Elle’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “You are a good man,” she said strongly. “You are a good husband. Don’t you ever concern yourself about that.”
It was so tempting to believe her, but she didn’t know the whole story. And he was determined to never let her know, so he nodded and said nothing more.
He stiffened again when he felt her lips against his neck, his jaw—moving their way to his cheek. His entire body flushed, and he turned toward her before he could even think of doing so. She pressed her lips against his then, and he all but molded against her. The actions were so gentle and so affectionate that it warmed his heart.
“I mean it,” she breathed against his lips. “I am very blessed to have met you, Duncan Aster. You are a good man. And you will be a good father. I know it. Trust me.”
Duncan blinked harder, willing his watering eyes to get dry—or, at least, not as moist. He had to remind himself once again that she didn’t know the whole story—that she didn’t truly know him—but despite that, she still made him feel redeemed. Wanted. Good.
“Okay?” she asked, her tone challenging and her eyes gleaming with stubborn determination.
Duncan couldn’t stop himself from nodding. “Okay.”
***
Elle never asked where Duncan got all of his money, and he never told her. In truth, she didn’t really care, so long as he was able to provide for them. And he was. He went out shopping with her, he helped her clean the house—he did a lot of things with her over the next couple of months, things that men didn’t typically do—at least, men that Elle had known. Elle had never met a man as helpful and considerate as Duncan. Back home, everyone was so overworked and busy that they didn’t have time for one another.
After she finished washing all of the dishes, she leaned back against the wall and watched as Duncan dried each dish and put them in one of the cupboards. His shirt was rolled up to his elbows, which left his tan forearms exposed.
Elle licked her lips, heat tingling through her blood. Her hands lowered to her swollen belly and she drummed her fingers over it. Though the morning sickness and rapid increase in weight hadn’t been fun, the growing amount of lust was tantalizing. Sometimes, all she had to do was look at Duncan, and she would want him. He never had to do anything either. He could be covered in several layers of unflattering clothing, and she was convinced that she would still want him. His big, strong hands on her, his flushed lips kissing her—
“I think you should go see a doctor,” Duncan said.
Elle jumped a little, his words tearing her from her thoughts. As she stared back at him, she realized he had finished putting the dishes away moments ago, and he was now looking at her with tension in his shoulders.
“Why?” she asked. “I feel fine.”
“Good, good. That’s good.” He scratched the back of his neck, his gaze lowering to her stomach. “I just…I want to make sure that you are fine. I want to make sure that everything is…normal with the baby.”
She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Darling, there’s not much the doctor can do right now.”
Duncan was still staring at her stomach, fear in his expression.
Elle frowned, her concern growing. “Duncan, what is it? Really?”
He blew out a haggard breath. When he looked back up at her, he was wincing. “Don’t get mad, alright? But when I was little, I remember my ma being pregnant with my baby brother, and she didn’t…grow as fast as you are. I’m worried that there…” He rubbed at his face.
Perplexed, Elle blinked at him for several seconds. It wasn’t until he glanced down at her stomach again did it all click for her, and she went cold. Her fingers froze over her stomach and her eyes widened.
He thought she was only two months pregnant when in fact she was probably five months pregnant…maybe six. She was a lot bigger than what he was probably expecting.
Elle nearly swore, panic bursting through her. She hadn’t thought this through—hadn’t done the math. God, what Duncan must be thinking right now.
She had to force herself to breathe, her fear overwhelming her. Not knowing what to say or do, she remained frozen there. Like prey facing its predator, she waited to see what the outcome of her fate would be.
Clearly nervous, Duncan scratched at his neck again. “I’m…I don’t think it’s bad, necessarily, but I just…what if it’s twins?”
Elle’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“Or triplets. We only have two bedrooms in this house, Elle. And the money…it’s only going to last another year, and that’s just to support the two of us.” He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes wide and moist. “How are we going to take care of three infants at once? What jobs are out here for a man like me?”
Elle was so relieved, she nearly laughed. “Oh, honey, I don’t think it’s twins. Twins don’t run in my family. Do they run in yours?”
The corner of Duncan’s lips quirked downward. “Well, no.”
“We’ll be fine,” she said. “We’ll figure things out. Don’t stress out too much, okay? I know the anticipation claws at your nerves, but we can’t really do much until I have the baby.”
Duncan sighed, his shoulders sagging as if weariness was pushing down against them. He licked his lips and, with obvious reluctance, he nodded at her words.
Looking at him, Elle no longer felt so relieved. She hadn’t lied to him all those months ago when she said he was a good husband—he was. He was so sweet and kind, and he took care of her and her unborn child. And he made life fun. It wasn’t always just about work and survival—he wanted to make every moment enjoyable. He joked around with her when they went into town to get food and supplies; he made a game of it when they did chores around the house; he made everything better. He deserved the truth.
“Duncan,” she said shakily, anxiety jittering through her flesh. She pressed her lips together and tried to summon some courage, all the while she tapping her fingers over her belly again. “I…I do have something to tell you about—” Her stomach bounced beneath her touch, making her yelp with surprise.
Duncan was right in front of her within seconds, grabbing her shoulders. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Elle laughed, more startled than anything else. She placed her hand over her stomach and felt it bounce again. “The baby’s kicking. Here,” She grabbed Duncan’s hand and placed it over her stomach. “Feel it?”
She watched Duncan’s face intently. When she felt her stomach bounce yet again, Duncan’s eyes widened. She couldn’t help but laugh again.
“He’s a tough one,” she said warmly, staring down at their hands. “Or she.”
They stayed like that for a quiet moment, feeling the baby kick her stomach. Elle thought they were sharing a loving experience, but if she had glanced up at his face at least once, she would have known how wrong she had been.
“This isn’t my child, is it?” Duncan whispered, choking on the words.
Elle’s gaze snapped up to his. He was glaring at her, his eyes glazed. His expression pierced her heart, and she could only open and close her mouth for a few seconds. Eventually, she managed to say, “What? What are you talking about?”
“It’s too big,” he said, removing his hand and backing away. As accusatory as he sounded, his expression conveyed a lot of questions and doubt.
She probably could lie to him in this moment, and she might ge
t him to believe it. But the mere thought of doing that crumpled her resolve. She didn’t want to lie to him. Once again, she mustered up all the courage she could and kept her eye-contact with him. “You’re right. I…” She carefully thought about her next words, his devastated look shredding her heart. “Before my first husband died, he and I…this is his child.”
Duncan’s jaw tensed and quivered, rage and hurt and grief gleaming in his eyes. He looked like he was going to shout at her, but instead, he shook his head and glowered at the floor. “Was he even cold when you mailed your first letter?”
Elle felt as if her very soul reeled at that, the pain those words cause searing. Duncan didn’t know of the nightmares she had—of the flashes of guilt she sometimes felt when they were in bed together. Quivering with her own grievous anger, she said, “I was alone. I needed help. You needed a wife. I don’t see why this changes anything.” She wanted to say so much more—horrible, cruel things, but she was rational enough to hold that all back.
Duncan looked back up at her with absolute disgust. “You lied to me. You used me.” He waved his hand toward her lower half. “You brought me another mouth to feed and another person to take care of. Of course this changes things. You got pregnant, he died, and then the first thing you do is send me a letter? Getting me to propose to you? You couldn’t even tell me about your…” He glared at her stomach. “I have to think about more than just you now.”
“Like that wasn’t going to happen, anyway,” she snapped. Her fingers tensed and clawed into the skin over her stomach. “The way you and I have been going at it these past several weeks.”
His face reddened. “Well, let me ask you then. All those times we were together, were you thinking about him?”
“Duncan, don’t—”
[2016] Widow Finds Love Page 14
