The Paper Marriage

by Bronwyn Williams

  So why did it feel as if the sun had just gone behind a cloud?

  Chapter Nine

  Matt made the time to give Jericho one last work-out. As if the stallion were a member of his crew, he felt responsible for his welfare. It had been a mistake to buy him, he’d known it at the time, but the owner had been about to consign him to the glue factory.

  “Devil horse. Dang near killed a feller working for me. Tell by the set of his eyes, he ain’t normal.”

  Matt didn’t know much about horses, having been raised at sea, but he’d read every western story he could lay hands on. If there was a Wild West show anywhere near whenever he was in port, he usually managed to attend at least one performance, sometimes more. As a youngster he’d dreamed about growing up to be a cowboy.

  How many boys, he wondered as he waded the stallion into the surf, had grown up on a ranch and dreamed about life at sea?

  “We’ve got the best of both worlds, haven’t we, boy? Easy there, watch your step now,” he said softly.

  He’d sent Luther back to the village to find someone to deal with the stock. Most of the boys on the island broke and trained at least one horse from the wild herd that roamed the Banks, partly for sport, partly necessity. Jericho shouldn’t be too much of a challenge for a boy with that kind of experience.

  Soon after he’d returned to the Point, Matt had sailed up to Currituck Banks towing a cattle barge, intending to buy a cow and a couple of mares. He’d come back with five mares, and Jericho. Almost as if he’d been sleepwalking, the rangy blood bay had followed the mares aboard, meek as a house cat. Not until they were out in open waters did he seem to wake up. He’d taken one look around, started bucking, and before they could get a line on him he’d busted up damned near everything in sight, including Matt.

  “A regular heller, weren’t you, fellow? Didn’t trust anything on two legs.” Matt continued to talk to the horse as he swam him out through the incoming tide to the bar, then turned and headed back to shore. “Yeah, I know how you feel.” He’d fallen into the habit of voicing his thoughts when he was on board Jericho. Sometimes it helped ease frustrations; occasionally it even offered him a fresh perspective.

  Once on shore again, with the light breeze playing over his wet body, he walked the stallion back over the dunes. “I’m going to have to trust the woman, Jeri,” he said after several minutes had passed. “Got no choice. Funny thing, though—it’s not as hard as I’d expected. Either I’ve learned a lesson or…” Back at the house, he headed for the stock trough, slid off the stallion’s back and commenced to rinsing the salt off both their hides with bucketsful of rainwater. “…or I’ve not learned a damn thing,” he continued. “Time’ll tell which, I reckon.”

  With a three-hour lag between flood tide on the ocean and flood tide on the sound, he had just about enough time to pack a bag, instruct whoever Luther brought back on how to handle Jericho, and go over the duty roster with Crank and Peg before heading to the village.

  No point in leaving orders with Bess, he concluded. If he read the signs correctly, she’d have her bags packed before he was even out of sight. The mystery was that she’d stayed as long as she had.

  Which left Rose. Funny how he’d come to trust her for no real reason other than the way she looked him directly in the eye. Or the way she’d pitched in with the tasks Billy and Luther used to share with no complaint, much less any mention of compensation.

  He wondered now if she’d intended all along to feather her own nest. It wouldn’t be the first time a wily widow had set out to trap herself another husband. The trouble was, he already had a wife. It was no secret. Not much of a wife, to be sure, but enough to keep another woman from getting any ideas about staking a claim.

  Whatever her intention had been, as long as she did what he’d hired her to do, he’d be satisfied. If she happened to stay outside too long and got all pink and damp so that her shirt stuck to her bosom, it was no skin off his nose. He wouldn’t be around to see it.

  If she laughed aloud at Peg’s stories or sang her songs to Annie, he wouldn’t be around to hear. What difference did it make if she bit her lower lip when she was embarrassed? He wouldn’t be here to see it. To think the kind of thoughts that could land a man in trouble before he knew what had hit him. He had his ship back now. A couple of hours more and he’d be headed north. Once he had a deck under his feet again, no woman on earth could lure him off-course.

  Still dripping, Matt strode into the house, mentally checking off things to be done before he could leave. Change into dry clothes, have a word with the men, leave funds with Crank to cover expenses for at least three months, throw a few things into a duffel, caution whoever Luther found to look after the stock to go easy with Jericho, and arrange to have their mounts collected from the boat landing and returned to the Point.

  Crank had already packed his bag. “Thought you might be needin’ your best blacks, Cap’n, seein’s how you’re gonna be mixin’ with all them city folks up in Boston. I put in two shirts and a necktie and polished up your good boots. You leave them old ones here.”

  Both men glanced down at the big, salt-stained boots he’d meant to leave outside. “I appreciate it, Crank. I’d’ve forgot half my gear.” Which wasn’t true, and they both knew it, but the old cook had taken on the duties of steward once they’d settled ashore. “I’ve left expense money in the box in my office. If you need more, you can always reach me through the broker’s office. Chances are, I’ll be in Boston for a few weeks, maybe even a couple of months, before we tie up all the loose ends and get under way.”

  Peg hobbled in, carrying a load of firewood, which he dumped in the basket behind the range. “Gonna have a wet crossing. Looks like rain’s fixin’ to set in for a spell.”

  “Rig a line in the attic for the wash if you need to.”

  “Already done it.”

  “Rose around?”

  “Come in while you were out. Seeing to Annie, I reckon.”

  “Tell her I said—” He broke off and raked his fingers through his hair. “Never mind, I’ll tell her myself.”

  He saw the look that passed between the two old men, but before he could deny whatever it was they were thinking, Luther called through the open window and he took the opportunity to escape.

  They were still mounted, Luther on his favorite among the mares, the other man on a rangy gelding. “You know John, don’t you?” Luther indicated a dark, wiry fellow Matt remembered seeing around the village. “He can handle Jericho. He’ll see to the stock and put out the net when Crank needs fish.”

  Matt and the stranger sized one another up. Matt reached a decision based partly on instinct, partly on experience. Evidently the stranger did the same. Eyes met, minds were made up, and the deal was done. Satisfied, both men nodded.

  “Obliged,” Matt said.

  “Seen your horse over on the mainland. Glad he’s in good hands. I’d have taken him myself, but you beat me to it.”

  “If you have to approach from abaft the starboard beam, stand back and speak to let him know you’re there. His right eye’s not too good.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  Leaving Luther to show the other man around, Matt went back inside. He stopped by Bess’s room, heard her pecking away on her machine, and moved on. He’d say good-bye to Annie first, then check with Rose in case she had any last questions.

  Rose was in Annie’s room. Halting in the open doorway, Matt watched as the two of them played tumble on a quilt on the floor. They were both laughing. He’d never heard a baby laugh before Annie. The sound made him feel as if he’d taken too tight a hitch in his necktie.

  “Rose?”

  She rolled over, clearly startled, her skirts awry, her face flushed. “Oh—I didn’t hear you come in.” Still holding one of Annie’s tiny feet in her hand, she sat up and brushed back her tousled hair. With the last red glow of sunset falling across her shoulders through the open window, she reminded him of a stained-glass panel he’d once
seen in a church in Biloxi.

  Looking flustered, she smoothed her skirt down over her legs. “The reason we’re on the floor, in case you’re wondering, is that Annie’s quick as anything. We used to play on my bed, but I was afraid she’d roll off the side. I thought this would be safer.” With a vague gesture, she indicated the rumpled quilt.

  He nodded once, sharply. “I came to say I’m leaving.” Even to his own ears, the announcement sounded abrupt.

  “So soon?” That couldn’t be disappointment he saw on her face…could it?

  “Tide’ll be high on the sound side within the hour. Before I go I just wanted to say—” While she waited, her head tilted in that way she had, he struggled to remember what it was he’d wanted to say. “I just wanted to say good-bye.”

  The second attempt was no better than the first. He sounded angry. Anger didn’t begin to describe his feelings. Threatened came close. Tempted, even closer. Seeing her this way, damp and flushed and rumpled—remembering the prim, starchy creature she’d been when she’d first landed on his doorstep—it was like looking at a painted picture of a ship, compared to seeing a real ship on the high seas, throbbing with life from keel to masthead, stem to stern.

  Clearing his throat, he tried once more. “I meant to say—that is—dammit, good-bye!” Cursing his own ineptitude, he turned and fled. He got halfway down the hall before guilt overtook him. Wheeling about, he retraced his steps.

  She was standing in the doorway, a puzzled look on her face. As he came closer, puzzlement gave way to wariness. He was half afraid she’d bolt before he could apologize for yelling at her.

  Three more steps brought him close enough to see the green sparks in her golden eyes. “Rose, I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I didn’t mean to sound—that is, I just wanted—I needed—”

  Oh, the devil with it. Like a guttering lamp, his mind flickered out, and he caught her in a hard embrace, buried his face in her hair and filled his lungs with her warm lilac scent.

  Taken off-guard, Rose stiffened, but the strangest thing happened. Instead of pulling away, she found herself melting in his arms, the same way she’d done when he’d lifted her down from the mare after Angel had left her stranded miles from home.

  She’d been furious at the time, embarrassed by her own reaction. Primed by the scent of him, the feel of him holding her against his heated, unyielding body on the long ride home, the rocking motion of the horse causing their bodies to move together, she’d been in no condition to think, much less to act properly.

  Then, once the ride had finally ended, he’d lifted her down slowly, sliding her down the length of his body. For one searing moment he had held her against him then, just as he was holding her now.

  And now, just as it had then, her heart went wild. With the top of her head brushing against his jaw, she drew in a deep, tremulous breath, filling her lungs with his clean masculine scent. A heavy urgency began to throb inside her. From the earliest days of her marriage, she knew what it meant, but this time it was far more powerful than anything she had ever experienced.

  On the floor across the room, Annie made sleepy, contented noises as she sucked on her toes. Outside, the cries of gulls could be heard over the quiet rush of the surf. Somewhere a horse whickered, a man laughed. Held tightly in Matt’s arms, Rose thought that if only she could capture this moment and hold it in her heart, she would never ask for anything more.

  The last of her doubts faded away. For once in her life she had made the right choice. She lifted her face to tell him so, but the words went unspoken. She felt it again. The belt buckle thing. Oh, heavens, what now?

  “Matt?” she whispered, her eyes widening.

  “I’m going to kiss you.” It was more threat than promise.

  “All right.” Relieved, she closed her eyes, puckered her lips and waited.

  “I’ve got no right—you can say no, if you want to, Rose. I’ve got a wife…somewhere.”

  “All right.” Eyes still closed, she nodded her understanding. Confessions could wait, this was far more important.

  The whole world could wait, she thought a moment later when she felt his warm, firm lips come down on hers. He twisted his head, tugging her lips apart, and then she felt something hot and intimate slip between them. Shivers raced down her spine. Her legs went numb. Every particle of feeling she possessed was concentrated in the space between her mouth and her…

  Well.

  She tingled. Her small breasts grew heavy. When the tip of his tongue began to move in a rhythm that echoed the frantic throbbing between her thighs, she thought she might die. Torn between desire and a guilty conscience, she had no choice. She had to tell him—now.

  “Matt,” she gasped, “we’re married.”

  She might as well have thrown a bucket of cold water in his face. He stepped back, his face expressionless. “I understood you were a widow.”

  “No, I mean—I am a widow, but you and I are—”

  “I’m married. You’re right about that, but I mean to take care of it as soon as I’ve got my ship back. In the meantime, all I require of you is that you look after Annie.”

  “Of course I’ll look after Annie,” she exclaimed, “but—”

  “You have my apology, madam. We’ll discuss it later.”

  “I don’t want your blasted apology, I want—”

  She wanted him.

  Wanted him in a way she had never wanted another man, but he was leaving, and with no time to properly plead her case, it was pointless to try and explain what she had done and why she’d done it. Pointless and perhaps even dangerous.

  Time and tide wait for no man. Crank would probably attribute that, too, to the Bible. Making the only choice she could possibly make under the circumstances, she lifted her chin and graciously accepted his apology, adding her best wishes for a safe journey.

  “I’ll be on my way, then,” he said gruffly. If he’d been wearing a hat, Rose thought irritably, he would have tipped it.

  And if she’d been holding a brick she might’ve thrown it.

  Staring after him as he strode off down the hall, just as if he hadn’t set her on fire and left her burning, she made a promise to herself. One day he would have to return, and when he did, she would be ready for him. They would settle this thing between them before she ever allowed him over the threshold. Then, if he wanted a life at sea, he could have it with her blessing.

  But he would have to take her and Annie with him. If Bess could do it, then so could she. She was his wife, after all. His legal wife, even if he didn’t yet know it.

  Confidence swelling, she lifted Annie up off the quilt, settled into the rocking chair and began to rock. “He’s going to love us, Annie, you just wait and see,” she declared firmly.

  Annie reached for a tendril that had escaped her braid, tugging with surprising force. She warbled a sleepy comment.

  “That’s all very well, but you’re going to have to help me. If he wants you, he’ll have to keep me. You’re easy—anyone would love you, dumpling, but we’re going to have to work on improving me if we want him to give me a chance. He thinks he can just sail off and leave us here, but we’ll show him, won’t we?”

  She leaned her head back on the curved cane, her eyes half closed, and thought of what she was going to have to do to prove herself. Her stomach tightened uncomfortably as determination set in. She had made her decision. Now all she had to do was live up to it.

  The next morning she took Annie out on the front porch to watch the new man work with the horses. Quiet and soft-spoken, he soon had Matt’s stallion following him around the pen, nudging his shirt pocket for a treat.

  “See there, love? Nothing’s impossible. If that wicked beast can be tamed this quickly by a stranger, you and I can certainly tame our captain.”

  She watched as a small sail skiff came alongside the wharf. She didn’t recognize the gentleman at the tiller. Curious, she watched as he dropped the sails and made his way toward the house. Stout, dresse
d in a rumpled gray suit and a straw hat, he was sweating profusely.

  Rose met him at the door, holding Annie in her arms. “I’m afraid the captain’s not here.”

  He removed his hat. “You must be Mrs. Little-field. Bess told me all about you.”

  “She did?” Oh, heavens, I hope not. “Yes, I am. Would you care to come in? I believe Bess is in her office.”

  “Well now, I wouldn’t mind a spot of shade for a spell before I go back, and that’s the truth. Warm, isn’t it?”

  Rose agreed that it was warm indeed. The gentleman had yet to identify himself, but fortunately, Bess chose that moment to come and investigate.

  “I thought I heard voices. Dick, how nice of you to come calling. Shall we go inside? I’ll have Crank fetch us something cool to drink.”

  “I take it the boy got off on yesterday’s freight?”

  The boy? If they were referring to Matt, he was definitely no boy, as Rose could attest, had she cared to.

  “Letter came yesterday,” Bess explained. “Matt couldn’t wait to leave. I know you wanted to see him about that matter we discussed, but he was champing at the bit the minute he heard the Swan was practically his again.”

  “My loss,” the magistrate said philosophically. “He’s been a big help to me, with his contacts all up and down the Eastern Seaboard, and that’s a fact. I’m sorry things didn’t work out. He’d have been a good ’un.”

  Turning to Rose, he extended his hand. “Dick Dixon, Mrs. Littlefield. Local magistrate. Catch-all title, catch-all position here on the Banks. Interesting, though. My, the tales I could tell you….” His hand was far softer than Rose’s. His clasp, however, was surprisingly firm. “I believe my wife gave you some cuttings from her garden the other day.”

  Not a one of which had survived, Rose thought, but she smiled and said, “Please thank her for me, Mr. Dixon.”

  She wondered what it was Matt had helped him with, and what hadn’t worked out. When Annie began squirming, she turned to leave, murmuring a polite excuse.

  Bess waved her back. “Stay here, girl, you might learn something.”