"You don't talk like most of the men around here. You talk more educated, why is that?" Nadine pried. "I know you went to the mission schools, but your education seems more varied than that. You are like a man who has been places we never heard of."
"I've seen a little more, done a little more. Been more worldly educated than most of the folks around here, that's why. I'm not any smarter than the next man, just been around a little more. And I told you about the mission schools I went to. We were taught by priests and nuns. Another reason I wouldn't convert to Catholism"
Her smile faded. He had no idea how much she wanted to learn about her husband.
But as others asked her to dance, Gabe asked some ladies too. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes. His sudden transformation of being the life of the party shocked her. She never dreamed he could let loose and enjoy himself. But with the other women he smiled and laughed. She envied them being able to make Gabe laugh.
Nadine got to know most of the ladies and they all wanted to hear about Gerty's illness and death. Nadine didn't want to spoil the evening so she cut it short and asked her husband for a dance.
"Thanks…" she began once in his arms again.
"For what?" He asked as they kept time to the music.
"All they want to talk about is Gerty's death. This is a party. I didn't want to spoil it with that kind of talk. Gerty wouldn't have wanted it either. She would be enjoying the music, not gossiping." She answered.
"A lot of people here liked Gerty. Although, you were the only one that really came to help her…" Gabe admitted. "And yes, you are right. Gerty loved music."
"Is that why you married me, because I was nice to your sister?" She asked and almost stopped dancing.
"No…" His face became a wad of frowns and suddenly he jerked her to him and kissed her hard and demanding on the mouth...and in front of everyone.
But this kiss was not one to be shared with others, as he demanded she respond to him and she did. So unexpected, she felt her mind reel.
Taken by surprise, Nadine felt helpless, her arms floating up and around his neck, pulling him closer, welcoming this sudden closeness with all her heart. Forgotten were the people around them.
His lips assuaged the ache of his lack of attention. His arms held her tight, possessing her. She felt the rippling muscles of his arms, and sighed heavily as he continued to assuage the silent ache in her butter-soft lips while her heart fluttered wildly. She breathed in taking in the sweet smell of an earthy man. Her senses were overloading. The hard muscles in his arms held her tight against him. She reveled in their strength. But it was the tender way he kissed her that melted her heart, and heated her body.
When he finally lifted his head, she saw the desire sparkling in his eyes, just before he veiled it with his lashes and a smile for everyone else.
She couldn't be sure how he was feeling about his own actions. But she knew she was warm, very warm.
"I've had too much to drink, obviously. Forgive me." He said.
He still held her in his arms though. The music stopped and then floated into a waltz as he bent his head to hers and began little kisses along her neck. He had no idea how Nadine's body reacted, obviously.
Nadine was so wound up in the kisses she forgot where she was, and when everyone stopped dancing save them, she gasped and pulled away. She was so flustered she didn't know what to say. But her husband was suddenly a big surprise. So lost in a world of only her and Gabe, she responded with reckless abandon. Gabe didn't seem to mind.
"They obviously didn't finish the honeymoon folks." Someone said in the background and a round of cheers went up for them.
Nadine smiled.
Gabe smiled.
It was a good night.
Chapter Seven
The dance hadn't change anything, except it made Nadine see her husband differently, and John. That kiss had changed her feelings considerably. She thought about that good night for a long time. She thought about how he'd kissed her in public, letting everyone know she was his. Was he simply claiming her as his wife, or was there more to it than that? She hoped for the latter.
Despite Martina, and his lack of interest before, she felt there was a deeper side to her husband than she ever imagined. She wanted to get to know him better. That kiss between them had held promise. She wanted that promise.
She began to see that it wasn't just him, it was her own attitude that affected him.
And she had finally once and for all put John where he belonged, in her past. All thanks to Martina. Martina put that affair into perspective. If John had relations with Martina and her, then their relationship was based entirely on lust. And he had a rather large appetite for lust, obviously.
She couldn't condemn John entirely without condemning herself. She had wanted John's attention. And sadly, she had believed he really loved her. Now that she knew the truth, it was much easier to back away from John and his lovemaking.
She tried harder to please Gabe. Yet it seemed to do no good. He'd let loose that night, but it wasn't something he planned to continue, it would seem. The next day he was his old self, working hard in the fields and appreciating her good cooking. But there was no more kisses, no more admissions.
She missed them. She wanted them.
Nadine didn't know how to approach him. At times he seemed like night and day.
However she found a way that got his attention quickly.
"I-I've decided…I want a baby." She said one afternoon as she took some water out to him in the fields. He was hoeing weeds from the field and turning the soil.
For a moment, he seemed shocked to see her. So shocked he nearly dropped the ladle. Or perhaps it was her words that stunned him.
"You want a baby?" He repeated.
"Yes…." She said breathlessly as he stared at her.
"Now?" He frowned.
She smiled for a moment, seeing how silly she sounded. "As soon as possible, yes."
"Why?" He asked, his voice less stern, his eyes penetrating hers.
"I've always wanted children. I want a big family. I want someone to love and someone who loves me back. Is that so unreasonable? I came from a big family, I miss all the noise and upheaval."
"Is that all you miss?" He asked looking down at her with a penetrating glance.
He was quiet again, then he looked at her and put his tools down.
He turned to her only for a second. "We'll discuss this later." He said and turned back to his work.
"You don't want a baby?" She asked, eager for his reply.
"I didn't say that. I said we'll discuss it later." He jabbed the hoe into the ground.
"Good. Alright, after supper then." She started to walk away.
"Nadine?" He called. "Are you over him yet?"
"Who?" Nadine stalled for an answer. She knew who he was talking about.
"John…of course." He grit his teeth and then looked at her.
She looked him straight in the eye. "I've put him in his rightful place, if that's what you mean. He's in the past. Are you over Martina?"
"Are you sure about that?" He ignored her question.
"Yes…" she sighed not looking at him.
"Why?"
"Why what?" She turned to look at him.
"Why have you suddenly put him away?" He leaned on the hoe handle and stared at her.
"Does it matter?"
"It might." He added and took another drink.
"I've been told he wasn't true to me. I thought he really loved me. I was wrong." She said, hanging her head in both shame and sorrow. "I was wrong and you were right, it was lust."
Her admission came hard, it hurt her pride, but she had learned her lesson. And it had been a hard lesson too.
"And you believe what you've been told?" He turned his head in question.
She shrugged. "Yes…I guess I do."
"Did you love him?" His words were like a whisper.
She stared the distance into his dark penetrating
eyes. "You said it yourself. I was in lust with him."
He nodded slowly. "We'll talk about the baby later, then."
"And what of Martina? Are you still in love with her?"
"Martina is not part of the present, either. She is the past. I put her there many years ago, in my youth. But…I was never in love with her. I too was in lust. So I guess we are even." Gabe announced. "So why do you want this baby…now?"
She turned around completely, watching him as he pulled the corn. Annoyed that he wouldn't look at her, she put her hands on her hip and shook her head.
"Don't you get it? Don't you understand? I'm lonely…out here working every day, with no one to talk to, no one to care. I need someone I can love…" She cried out. "Before there was Gerty. She was there for me, as much as I was for her. We were friends, we cared about each other. But now…there is no one."
He nodded and slowly raised his head to look into her tear stained eyes.. "I reckon that is true enough. But I'm not sure you are ready yet…for a child."
"Not ready?" She cried. "You'd deny me that too?"
His gaze narrowed on her now, his brow going up a notch. "I've denied you nothing. You work side by side with me every day, and I appreciate that. I do. But we aren't havin' no baby until we get a few things straight between us. If we have a baby, that means we are responsible for that child, together. I'm not gonna raise a child, knowin' you might run off with another at any time."
"What other, there is no other? I told you I put John in my past. I'm your wife. I feel unloved, unwanted by you. I want a child to fill that gap. Since you seem determined to keep me at a distance."
He studied her words, looking at the soil he just turned.
"I guess I have been keeping you at a distance, I am sorry for that. But…babies are made from love Nadine, not a notion. Babies are brought into this world when a man and a woman love each other. And not until. Otherwise it's just a sin."
"You have a funny way of talkin'. I don't understand you." She fretted wringing her hands. "There is absolutely nothing sinful about a baby."
"I know you don't understand. And you probably won't for a long time. Maybe never…" He said and went back to work.
"I'd like to…" She said and walked off.
She went back to the house, and mulled his words over in her head. What did he want from her? She'd been a good wife to him. She given up the only man that she thought loved her. She'd worked her fingers to the bone, trying to shine the house and make things better for them both. She cooked his meals every day, mended his clothes. Why couldn't she have a baby?
Hot tears stung her cheeks. Loneliness stared from the future at her.
Three days later, she decided she'd go out and help him in the fields. She was tired of fussing at herself all day. She needed some company.
It was hot, and he had to get the crop in or lose it. With only him working, it wouldn't get finished. She donned a pair of pants she used to work in the garden with and an old shirt. She threw on one of his old straw hats and came prepared with baskets. She was helping him pick the corn when a shot echoed through the air, and the dirt flew around them.
Gabe immediately grabbed her and put her behind him.
Smoke filled the air, along with the acrid smell of gun powder.
She tried to look around him. "Who is it?" She asked, with a trembling voice, clutching his arms.
A silence prevailed.
"Ain't sure."
Another shot rang out. This time it found its target. Gabe was hit in the shoulder.
Nadine grabbed for him. "Gabe…" she cried as he slumped against her for a moment.
"Gabe…"
Directly, as she tore off some of her shirt and stuffed it against the wound a big burley man came up to them. Nadine tied the rest of her rag around his arm.
The man was a Mexican and Nadine grabbed the pitchfork that Gabe used to loosen the ground with, threatening him.
"Who are you and what do you want?" She screamed.
"I'm Martina's father…Jose Rodriquez. I come to kill the son of bitch that got my daughter pregnant." He said as sweat dripped off of him.
Without thinking, she blurted out at him. "My husband didn't get her pregnant. He's been here working in the fields every day. How could he?" Nadine blasted him with words.
"She came to these fields, and they made love. Now she is with child. His child…"
All the while her heart beat drummed into her ears with a fear as Nadine stared into his angry eyes. But the fear was not of this man, just of his words.
"How can you be so sure it was Gabe?" She managed to ask.
"She said he done it. So he did." The man grumbled.
He raised his gun to shoot Gabe again, but this time Nadine pointed the pitchfork at him that Gabe had carried for protection from wild animals and such and stabbed the man's foot with it. Blood leaked out of his boot, and the man swore, jerking the pitchfork out of her hand.
"You liked to have cut my foot off…I ought to kill you. If you were not a woman, I would kill you." He yelled.
"I'll cut more than that off if you don't git." She threatened. "Get off our land. Go on, git! Your daughter is a whore and there is no telling who got her pregnant."
"Viper's tongue. Sinner! You'll be a dead lady if you open your mouth like that again. And if he sets foot on my property again, he'll be a dead man." The man warned, then hobbled away. "And that's a promise."
Nadine turned to Gabe now. "Gabe, can you make it to the house?" She asked as she tried to help him to his feet.
Blood oozed from his shoulder. Sweat peppered his forehead. He was close to passing out.
He struggled but nodded. "Yeah, but you'll have to help me."
"I got you…" She put his arm around her neck and helped him to the house.
He looked pale, and the wound was bleeding despite the homemade patch. She guided him to the bed, and helped him lay down. Then she sat on the edge of the bed to look at his wound. "Looks like the bullet didn't go through. I'll have to dig it out."
She went to get a bowl of water and some bandages.
As she cleaned his wound, he fretted. "She lied, it wasn't me. She did come to the field, but I didn't touch her. I'm not that crazy."
"I know that…" Nadine nodded, as she worked to clean the wound. "I'm gonna have to take that bullet out."
"What do you mean, you know?" He asked staring at her.
"I'm beginning to know you. You have a lot of principles, and morals. I don't believe you would lay down and take her in a field. If you really wanted her, you'd bring her to the house and have her."
"I'd never do that to you!"
She almost smiled, but she was worried about the wound. She stood up. "I'll get some hot water and something to get that bullet out."
"You ever done anything like that before?" He asked, the pain in his face making his face screw up.
"No, but there's a first time for everything, I guess. I'll get the whiskey." She said staring at him.
He nodded.
When she came back, she had a knife, it sparkled it was so clean. "I'll try not to hurt you any worse, but the bullet needs to come out of there. Or it will get infected."
"Just do it!" He said and swallowed a slug of whiskey.
She went to work. The bullet was lodged in his shoulder good and deep and it took a long time to pry it loose enough to pull out. But after nearly an hour of probing, she had found it and dug it out of him. Sweat peppered her brow, but her hand was steady. He yelled once and took another slug of whiskey. She had given him a piece of rawhide leather to bite on. He took another drink and bit down hard when she finally got the bullet. But he blacked out after that.
She nodded. She knew what she had to do. She heated the knife up and through tears, she seared his wound closed. The stench it created made her ill, but she continued to nurse him. She looked at the scar and cringed.
Now that he was out of it, she knew he could rest.
She clean
ed up her mess and went to fix supper, trying not to think about what had just happened. But she was human, she couldn't stop thinking of it. She'd never done anything like that in her life. How had she managed it? Her hands hadn't shook when she dug the bullet out and when she sealed it with the iron, she didn't know how she kept it steady.
She thought about Martina and Gabe being together, but she knew he had been home every night. He worked all day in the fields and at night, he came inside, had his supper and read his bible, then went to bed tired. There was no way he could have been responsible for Martina. Yet the woman had named him the father. Why would Martina do that, was she so desperate to have him that she would lie about such a thing? Could the baby be John's?
That thought had her contemplating. Dear God, it probably was.
Nadine wanted to choke Martina for lying.
But she had a sick husband, she had to take care of him.
That night he got the fever and she stayed up all night, wiping him down with cool water. She feared an infection had set in, but she didn't know why, she had cleaned it good and seared it closed.
She looked at the scar and cringed. She hated doing that to him, but it was the only way to save him. He had such perfectly smooth skin, she hated marring it.
Tears ran down her cheek as she stared at him. She didn't want him to die. She cared for him. After all, he had supported her all this time, asked very little of her and been good to her. She couldn't complain.
It was a hard admission, but it was true.
Even though he wouldn't give her a baby. Even though he was accused of being the father of Martina's baby, she still felt a pull toward him. And she wanted him more than ever. She wanted to show him, just how much she had changed.
This was a new experience for Nadine. The thought that she had feelings for him, and hadn't had sex with him made her wonder. Was this what real love was about? Was this the real reason he hadn't touched her so far?
The next day she fed him broth when he woke up.
"How long I been out?" He asked trying to sit up and prop himself on the pillows.
"Since yesterday evening." She answered, setting the broth down and wiping his chin.
Last Bride, Last Man (Book Three of the Red River Valley Brides Series) Page 8
