Resilient Love: Banished Saga, Book 7

by Ramona Flightner

  “You’ll melt,” he said as he sat down and unbuttoned his shirt. When she refused to answer him, he touched his hand to her hip. She flinched but did not roll away so his hand did not break contact with her.

  “You know I’ll keep to my agreement,” he whispered. “I had hoped by now you’d trust me.” He frowned as he heard what sounded like a sniffle. He turned around to study her, but he only saw her back rise and fall with her breaths. However, his curiosity was piqued, and he rose. He kicked off his shoes, shucked his pants, and moved to her side of the bed with his underclothes on.

  He paused when he leaned over her. She’d covered her face with a hand, smothering the virtually inaudible sounds of her crying. He knelt before her on the floor and ran a hand from her hairline, down her neck, shoulder, arm, and hip and back up again. “Why are you crying, my dearest Fiona?” When he noticed her slight trembling with his touch, he retracted his hand. “I never realized. I’ll—”

  “No!” Fiona rasped. “No, please. I’m so tired.”

  He pulled away her hand, allowing him to see her face. “What are you tired of? Of me?”

  “No.” She raised their joined hands so she could trace his jawline with one of her fingers. “I’m so tired of acting like I want our lives to continue as they began.”

  He settled more comfortably beside her, eye to eye. “Why have you never said anything?”

  She turned her face, swiping her cheeks dry on the sheet, before facing him again. “In the beginning, every time you touched me, all I could think of was how I’d betrayed us by what I’d done. Then I became huge with the baby.” She sniffled and appeared unable to prevent her tears from falling. “I never meant to put on that much weight.”

  “What are you talking about?” Patrick asked, his brows furrowed as he watched her.

  “The bigger I got, the less you touched me, reached for me, and then, after I had Rose, … and you thought it would help if you were in another room while I nursed her …” She broke off as she heaved out a sigh.

  “You think I no longer desired you because you gained weight to bring our beautiful daughter into this world?” He failed to hide the incredulity from his voice. He gripped her hand tightly as he stared into her eyes. “Every time I went to touch you, you’d shy away from me. A man can only suffer that sort of a reaction so many times before he changes how he acts.”

  Fiona closed her eyes. “I’ve never lost all the weight. I’m never going to.”

  “Is that really all you’re afraid of? That I’m worried you’ve gained weight?” He frowned as a shadow passed through her gaze that she attempted to squelch. “Are you sure there isn’t more?”

  She swallowed and opened and closed her mouth a few times as though trying to speak but unable to form words. “I … I can still feel his touch,” she admitted with closed eyes.

  Patrick traced her cheek, causing her eyes to open and focus on him. “I’d never hurt you, Fee. Please tell me that you know that.”

  She turned her cheek into his palm, rather than jerking away from him. “I do. I’ve known since before we married.”

  “What do you want, Fee? I thought you were happy with our arrangement.”

  “Are you?”

  He gave an incredulous laugh. “Hell no. I want to bed my wife. I want to have a full relationship with you, something we’ve never had.” He smiled at her, an aching fondness in his eyes. “For too long, we’ve allowed the actions of others and our fears to keep us separated. Let me love you.”

  “I’m so afraid,” she admitted. “When I thought I’d lost you …” She met his eyes with ones filled with a mixture of torment and relief. “It made me regret all the time I had acted out of fear.”

  “I love you, Fee. I love you for myriad reasons, but mainly simply because you are you. When I see you, my spirit lightens, and I know I can face anything. If you never wanted things to change between us, I would accept that, because being near you is, … well, almost enough.” He smiled as he cupped her cheek. “I promise to be honest.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed in me. I don’t really know … I don’t really know what I’m doing. What I’m supposed to do.”

  He held a finger to her lips. “Your first marriage could have brought you little pleasure as your husband was only interested in having someone to cook and clean for him before using you to fulfill a life insurance policy. Your other experience could most accurately be described as, … well, it wasn’t pleasurable. And it wasn’t by your choice.” His gaze was filled with concerned tenderness. “I need you to tell me what you want. Show me what you want.”

  “Kiss me,” she implored, grabbing him behind the nape and tugging him forward. He slowed the awkward tumble her hasty actions caused, balancing with one hand on either side of her upper body.

  “Easy, my darling,” he whispered. He clambered to the other side of her, lying on his side as he traced her head and cheek with soothing caresses. She calmed, tilting into his touch as she closed her eyes with a sigh of contentment. He traced her lips twice, then three times, before he leaned forward to give her a feather-soft kiss.

  “Yes,” she breathed, freeing an arm from underneath the blankets to snake around his neck and hold him to her. “More.”

  Patrick groaned as he deepened the kiss, his hands roaming over her body covered in the blankets and nightgown. He smiled as she pushed him to his back and leaned over him, taking control of the kiss. “Show me what you want,” he murmured, tangling his hands in her red-gold hair.

  She continued to kiss him, running her hands through his hair and then down his chest. Her touch was fleeting, and he arched up for more of it. When she leaned away, he growled with frustration, rolling her beneath him. He grabbed one of her hands, lacing it with his as some of the weight from his lower body rested on her.

  He nuzzled her neck, stilling when he sensed her shudder was not borne of pleasure. “Fee?” he panted, pushing himself away and freeing her hand. “What did I do?” He cupped his hands around her face, running thumbs over her cheeks. The passionate flush had faded from her cheeks.

  He kissed her brow, murmuring how beautiful she was to him. His thumbs traced loving patterns over her cheek and jawline. He kissed her softly as her tension slowly eased. Her eyes eased open, and the panic within cleared as she focused on him.

  “Patrick,” she whispered, a hint of wonder in her voice.

  “Yes, my love.” He kissed her nose and waited for her to explain what had happened.

  Shame filled her gaze as she battled tears. “Forgive me.”

  He shook his head at her words and nodded his encouragement for her to continue speaking.

  “When you rolled me over, grasped my arms, I felt powerless. It made me think of … of …”

  Patrick lowered his head to the pillow beside hers and groaned. “Forgive me.” He pushed himself up on his forearms, balancing his weight on his arms and knees, his weight now fully off her. “I wasn’t thinking. I …”

  Her tremulous smile held joy and wonder. “I know. Which is miraculous to me. You weren’t touching me as though I were damaged. Or used. Or wicked.”

  His eyes flashed with anger. “You aren’t, Fee. You are fine and good and lovely.”

  She stroked a shaking hand over his clenched jaw. “I try to keep him locked away,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she spoke. Patrick groaned and flopped to his back beside her. She folded her hands over her lower belly, turning her head to look at him a moment. She scooted under the blankets until she was next to him and lay as close to his side as possible.

  At her growl of frustration, he looked down to find her wriggling closer to him, yet her actions were hindered by the heavy layer of blankets. He sighed with disappointment as she shimmied away from him and closed his eyes. As a corner of one of the blankets thwacked him in the face, he jerked, and he fought a smile to see her fighting to free herself of the cocoon she herself had fashioned.

  After nearly falling out of
the bed, she turned to him with an embarrassed yet triumphant smile, pushing down the blankets on her side of the bed—as far as they’d go with him lying on the other half.

  He smiled with fondness at her long white linen nightgown and thick stockings. “Did you really think you’d sleep well so covered up in June?” he teased.

  She shrugged as she blushed, her hair shimmering like fire in the low lamplight as it fell over one shoulder. “Will you hold me?” she whispered.

  “Of course.” He outstretched his arm so she could use his shoulder as a pillow. She rested on him, her erratic breathing and pulse slowly calming.

  “I’ve never known this,” she whispered.

  He traced a palm over her head to her shoulder, his focus on her.

  “This quiet contentment where a man finds enjoyment merely from my company.”

  “I plan on giving you many firsts, my Fee,” he whispered. He stilled his hand as he felt her shivering again. “Let me get the blanket. You’re cold.”

  “No, not cold.” She leaned over him with her palms on his chest, her hair tickling his face as she studied him. “I’ve only felt pleasure with you, Patrick.” She flushed at how her words pleased him. “I … Show me.”

  “I refuse to frighten you,” he whispered. “I can’t bear it.”

  “Help take away my fear. Please.” A tear escaped, tracking down her cheek, and Patrick arched up to kiss it away. She relaxed into his touch as though relishing in it.

  “If I do anything that scares you, that makes you uncomfortable, that makes you want to stop, tell me.” He searched her eyes as though ensuring himself of her sincerity and her desire for him.

  She nodded, kissing him on the lips and resting more of her weight on his chest.

  He gasped to feel her breasts pressed to his chest, only her thin nightgown and his undershirt separating them. As though of their own volition, his hands rose and ran from her shoulders to her hips, pulling her more tightly to him.

  “I want you, Fee,” he whispered as he broke the kiss. “I can’t lie to you and say I don’t.”

  She laughed, sounding like a young woman. “Do you know what it means to me to hear you say that?” She bit her lip as she sat up to slide her nightgown over her head in a seductive manner. Instead, it got stuck, and she toppled to the side.

  Patrick laughed and loomed over her, gripping her gown by the hem, where it was stuck at her hips. “Here, let me help.” He waited for her to nod her consent before he eased it up her body and over her head. After he tossed it to the floor, he stilled, taking in the sight of her, naked to him, for the first time.

  “Oh, my darling Fee,” he murmured, his gaze caressing her. “You are beautiful beyond words.” His hands traced over her in a light touch, following the path of his gaze and provoking a soft all-over body blush from her. “You were always lovely, Fee, but now you are stunning.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her before lifting off his shirt and stripping from the rest of his underclothes. He scooted onto his side next to her, leaning on one elbow as he used his free hand to draw patterns over her skin. “Your skin is like the softest silk I’ve ever had the good fortune to touch.” He kissed her collarbone and her neck, tracing his hand down her belly.

  “No,” she whispered, squirming away from him.

  “What is it?” He stilled his movements and looked where his hand was. On her belly, over silvery skin, stretched from her pregnancy. “You think I won’t find you attractive because you’ve had a child?” He grinned at her but sobered when she battled tears.

  “I hate what happened to my body,” she whispered.

  He kissed her hands covering her belly and the marks she detested on her skin. “Do you regret Rose?” At her instinctive gasp of denial, he smiled. “Then rejoice in your body’s ability to give us a child. With good fortune, we’ll have many more.”

  His head turned into her hands, kissing her palms as they lifted away from her belly to trace his face. After a few kisses to each palm, he turned his head to meet her watery gaze, his filled with desire. “I love you, Fee. This isn’t some boyhood fantasy that will be destroyed because I realize you are human. This is a man’s love. A man’s passion for his wife.”

  She stuttered out a breath, her arms reaching for him, and he rose, pulling her into his embrace as she cried. He held her close as she sobbed. “Let me hold you,” he whispered. “Tonight let me hold you.”

  “I know that’s not enough,” she whispered as she shuddered.

  He forced her to meet his gaze, his palms wet from her tears. “You’re always so brave. This isn’t about what I want or need. Ensuring you are happy makes me happy. Seeing you smile at me makes me content beyond my dreams. I don’t want you to do something merely because you believe you must.” He kissed her reverently. “We have plenty of time for lovemaking, my darling Fee.” He pulled her close, holding her as she relaxed in his arms. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of holding you in my arms?”

  “Since the day we met,” she whispered. “That’s when my dreams began.” Her voice trailed away as though she battled sleep.

  He sighed, tugging her closer as her breaths slowly deepened. “Rest in my arms, my darling.” He kissed her on her head and followed her into sleep.

  Colin watched his brother the next morning as Fiona bustled around, preparing for church. He nodded to the front porch, and Patrick joined him outside. Patrick grunted as Colin gave a small yelp and hit him on his shoulder. “Seems you took my advice.”

  Patrick flushed at Colin’s comment before sharing a smile with his brother. “All I will say is that things are improving between us.”

  Colin laughed. “Good. You and Fee deserve to be happy.” He perched on the deck’s brick banister. “I hate that I have to leave today.”

  “You’ve already taken too much time away from your business.” Patrick watched his brother. “How is it going?”

  “Oh, it’s fine. I have good men working for me, although a man in town is intent on driving me insane.” At Patrick’s inquisitive stare, Colin crossed his legs at the ankles and raised his eyebrows as he met Patrick’s concerned look. “A Mr. Caine is intent on purchasing my business, even though I have no inclination to sell.”

  “Why would he want your business? I’d think there’d be plenty of work in town for more than one blacksmith shop.”

  “Oh, there is. And there are numerous shops. For some reason he has it in his head that he must purchase mine.” Colin shrugged. “I run the most successful shop in town, but I don’t see why he won’t start his own.”

  “There must be more to it than you’re telling me,” Patrick said.

  Colin leaned against one of the pillars holding up the porch roof. “When I decided I wanted to live in Missoula permanently, I worked hard to save money and to buy my own smithy. Clarissa and I received no money as an inheritance when Da died, and his smithy was sold in Boston by Mrs. Smythe in her attempt to remain solvent.” Colin rubbed at his temple. “I used to think I’d be happy working for another man, but I realized after a few years in Missoula that I wanted my own place. I’d basically run Da’s smithy for a long time.”

  Patrick shook his head in confusion. “None of this is new to me.”

  “Well, when I bought my smithy, the other man interested in it was Mr. Caine. He believed he had a right to it and was irate that Mr. Jacobson sold it to me.” Colin bit his lip and furrowed his brow. “I’ve never understood his animosity toward me nor his desire to reclaim that shop.”

  “You paid a fair price, and it was that man’s to sell,” Patrick said.

  Colin nodded his head in agreement.

  “Well, what I would say, after seeing how the Company functions here, is that you must ensure that the men working for you are truly loyal to you. Not to that Mr. Caine.”

  Colin frowned as he mulled over Patrick’s words. “My men are loyal.”

  Patrick huffed out a breath. “That’s what we all like to believe. However,
it’s not always true.” He slapped Colin on his shoulder and led him inside for breakfast. When Patrick saw Fiona, he leaned over and kissed her on her cheek, smiling broadly when she moved into his touch rather than away. He ran a hand over her shoulder before lifting Rose for a kiss.

  After finishing breakfast, Fiona held Rose and looked at Colin. “’Twill be sad to see you go today. We always enjoy your visits.”

  “I wish you could travel to Missoula more frequently,” Colin said. “I know the rest of the family would love to see Rose grow.” He kissed the top of her head as she played with a button on his shirt. His intent gaze homed in on his brother. “You’ll travel to Missoula soon.”

  Patrick shared a look with Fiona and nodded. “I know. May we stay with you?”

  Colin beamed. “You’ll all come?” He tickled little Rose and laughed as she giggled.

  “If Patrick would like us to be there as he confronts his stepmother, I’d rather be nowhere else,” Fiona said. She flushed as Patrick watched her appreciatively. “Come. We must be away to church, or we’ll be late.” She bustled everyone out the door and slipped her arm through her husband’s as Colin carried Rose.

  After the service, she stood outside the church, holding Rose while Patrick and Colin spoke with a few men from the congregation as they waited for Lucas and Genevieve. She held her face to the sun a moment, enjoying the momentary fresh air as a brisk wind blew out the day’s smog.

  “I’d worry about forming more freckles if I were you, Mrs. Sullivan,” a taunting voice said near her ear.

  She stilled, lowering her face to meet the jeering gaze of her tormentor. She held Rose closer, but Rose was alert and held out her hands to pat the man. “No, love,” Fiona whispered. Rose squirmed in her mother’s arms as she was denied.

  “Seems she knows her father already,” Samuel Sanders murmured, his eyes lit with curiosity as he watched a vivacious Rose.

  Fiona jutted out her chin in a challenge. “She’s never known a day’s sadness. I’ll not allow you to sully her life with your presence.” She jerked back a step when Samuel raised a hand to clasp Rose’s outstretched one.