Stands a Calder Man

by Janet Dailey

“We’d better take those boots off,” she suggested. “Your feet must feel like ice.” She dragged one of the chairs from the table so he could sit on it. “I guess you didn’t find Stefan.” Her questioning glance didn’t quite reach his face.

  “I figure he went to Kreuger’s.” Webb lowered himself onto the chair seat, the suppleness slowly returning to his muscles. “He’s probably waiting out the storm there.” At least, he hoped the man was—for Lilli’s sake.

  She appeared reassured by his suggestion. “He usually goes hunting with Mr. Kreuger. It’s likely that he did today, too, even though he didn’t mention it.” She faced him and reached out a hand. “Give me your foot.”

  His boot was wet and cold, the leather stiff. It took some tugging before she succeeded in pulling it off. But she didn’t stop with removing his boots. She peeled off his wool socks as well. His numbed feet tingled painfully from the shocking exposure to warm air.

  Lilli took one look at his frosty white feet and reached for the basin. A kettle of water was warming at the back of the stove. She emptied it into the basin and bent down to immerse his feet in the hot water. Webb was barely able to muffle an outcry at the shooting pain that traveled through his nerves from his nearly frostbitten feet.

  “You really should take those wet pants off before you catch cold,” she remarked.

  Granted, he could feel their dampness through his longjohns, but Webb didn’t think the situation called for such drastic measures. “I think I’ll keep my pants on,” he stated dryly. “If it’s all the same to you.” He arched an eyebrow at her, certain she hadn’t considered her suggestion all the way through.

  The faint blush that rose in her cheeks seemed to confirm it as she avoided his gaze, but her mouth stayed in a determined line. “I am a married woman, Mr. Calder, so I have seen a man in his underwear before.”

  “It’s back to ‘Mr. Calder,’ is it?” he murmured with a trace of irritation that she had managed to destroy the sense of intimacy that had been growing.

  There was no response from her as she turned away, and no further argument about the wisdom of removing his pants. “I have supper hot.” She changed the subject entirely. “Would you like something to eat? It’s just bean soup—”

  “That sounds fine,” Webb interrupted her before she could apologize for the plainness of the meal.

  “You soak your feet in that hot water while I dish it up.” She laid his socks out to dry, steam drifting up from them.

  He wouldn’t have been a man if he didn’t find it pleasing to be waited on by a woman, his every need anticipated. With unhurried movements, she set the table with flatware and a loaf of bread and a knife on a flat board. Two bowls of soup were dished out and placed on the table. Then she walked to the far end of the room where the bed sat and took something out of a trunk. When she came back, she handed him a towel and a pair of dry socks.

  “You can wear these,” she said.

  Webb held them a second, aware they belonged to her husband, then set them on his lap to wipe his feet dry. There was only one chair at the table, so he brought over the one on which he had been sitting. The melting snow from his clothes had left little puddles of water on the floor. His stockinged feet got wet when he crossed to the table, but Webb didn’t mention it.

  “Smells good.” He sniffed appreciatively at the thick soup and accepted the slice of bread Lilli handed him. “Thanks.” The soup was too hot to eat right away, so he dipped a corner of the bread into the liquid and ate it. “It tastes as good as it smells.”

  Her only response was a brief smiling glance; then Lilli was dipping her spoon into the soup and blowing on it to cool it. The silence lengthened. Webb was irritated by it.

  “Are you always this quiet at the table?” he questioned, throwing a hard glance across the table to her.

  “I’m sorry.” She lowered her spoon to the table, appearing ill at ease. “It’s a habit, I’m afraid. Stefan doesn’t believe you should talk at the table, not while you’re eating.”

  “I see.” He bent his head, struggling with the grimness he felt. Then he shot another glance at her.

  “Well, if you don’t mind, I prefer to talk while I eat. Or do you share your husband’s opinion?”

  “No, it’s just always been the custom in our home.” The wind picked up its fury and rattled the tar-papered sides of the shack. Lilli tensed at the noise, feeling it push at her.

  “Something wrong?” Webb asked.

  “I can’t get used to the wind,” she admitted and dipped her spoon into the soup again. “It never seems to stop blowing out here.”

  “It will get to you if you let it,” he remarked.

  “How do you prevent it?” she asked with an attempt at a smile.

  “Think about something else.” He shrugged.

  “That’s easier said than done,” she replied. “When it blows like that, I just feel so cooped up in here.”

  “Cabin fever,” Webb diagnosed her ailment with a slow smile.

  “What’s that?” She looked at him with an interested frown.

  “It’s a common malady around here,” he explained. “It comes from spending too many days inside with the same four walls looking back at you all the time. The symptoms are restlessness, irritability, and melancholy.”

  “I think I’ve come down with a bad case of it,” Lilli declared. “What’s the cure?”

  “I don’t know of any.” Webb smiled sympathetically. “Eventually it just goes away. My mother said it used to help to have company come.”

  “Yes.” She seemed to consider that thought. “It is nice to have someone to talk to.”

  “Other than your husband, of course.” He wanted to bite his tongue for mentioning that.

  “Stefan isn’t much of a talker.” She shrugged and ate her soup.

  “I gathered that,” Webb murmured dryly.

  “He’s a quiet, simple man, very strong and gentle.” She paused as if thinking about something. “He’s changed a little in some ways since we came here.”

  “Oh? In what way?” His voice attempted to conceal the curiosity her seemingly innocent remark had aroused.

  “There was a time when he hated the thought of owing anyone money. But when we sold our crop this year, he didn’t pay off the loan we had at the bank. He borrowed more money to buy some additional land,” she explained, then quickly defended his action. “I’m sure it will be a good investment, though.” She glanced at his nearly empty bowl, “Would you like some more soup?”

  “No, this is plenty,” Webb refused and wiped the bowl clean with the crust of bread.

  “I’ll get you some coffee.” She pushed her chair away from the table to fetch it.

  The heavy sweater made a lumpy shape of her as Webb studied the shine of red in her hair under the lantern light. The sights and sounds in the room were pleasing to him—the smell of coffee in the cup Lilli brought him, the soft swish of her skirt, and the look in her eyes that she didn’t always hide.

  “I could get used to having a woman do things for me.” Webb smiled as he took the cup from her.

  “Most men can.” She moved to her own side of the table, poised and showing no sign that she took his remark personally. “First their mothers look after them, then their wives. Men generally don’t like to do things for themselves.”

  His gaze narrowed a fraction as he sensed there was something derogatory in her observation of the male sex. “I suppose some men marry for the convenience of having a wife to take care of them and satisfy their needs.”

  He suspected it of a few married couples he knew. Their attitudes toward each other were in marked contrast to the special relationship between his parents. Maybe that’s why he’d noticed it. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been willing to take a wife, because he envied what his father had and didn’t want to settle for less. He’d never thought about it much before now.

  “I suppose some men do.” She suddenly seemed reluctant to share her opinions with him.
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  Irritation rippled in him at the way she alternated between being natural and open with him and pulling back in aloofness. “And I suppose some women marry for the convenience of having a man to take care of them and satisfy their needs.” The hard tone in his voice made it an accusation. He was immediately sorry when he saw her pale slightly.

  “If a man and woman are satisfied with what they have, I don’t think an outsider’s opinion of their arrangement is important,” she retorted stiffly.

  “Are you satisfied with what you have, Lilli?” he asked quietly.

  “That is none of your business, Mr. Calder.” The anger that flared in her eyes seemed to mask pain. “I shall ignore your rudeness this time.”

  His mouth thinned into a silent line. He wasn’t about to apologize for the question, so he drank his coffee instead and let the conversation die.

  Outside, the storm prowled around the shack, isolating them on an island of warmth. The two of them were blizzard-bound alone. Webb had known this could happen when he had turned around. There was a part of him that had counted on it. He wasn’t responsible for the storm, but he had used it, fully aware that Lilli would never turn him out in it. He didn’t feel too damned honorable when he considered it, either. A man liked to think he’d do the decent thing, but his father had warned him there was good and bad in every man. Webb just never thought he’d learn it about himself. Yet he’d known all along there was just one room in this cabin—and just one bed. And it was night.

  The clatter of dishes broke the lengthening silence as Lilli began gathering them off the table. Webb got up from his chair and walked to the stove where his outer clothes were drying.

  “I’d better put my boots on,” he said, feeling the need for words, “before the leather dries stiff and hard.”

  His own socks were a little damp, but not enough to be uncomfortable. Webb took off her husband’s pair and put on his own, then forced his feet into the slant-heeled boots. He heard the slosh of water as Lilli added some from the bucket to the heated water in the dish basin. He reached for his coat and hat and began putting them on.

  Out of the comer of her eye, Lilli saw what he was doing and turned to frown at him. “Where are you going?”

  “Outside.” With the scarf tied over his hat to protect his ears, Webb pulled on his gloves. “I thought I’d get a couple pails of snow and bring them inside so we’ll have a supply of water come morning.”

  Lilli turned back to her dishes, aware of him taking the two empty pails and walking to the door. When the door was opened for the brief moment it took for Webb to step outside, the wind roared louder. Its whipping cold rushed over her face, then was gone. The room felt strangely more empty without Webb.

  It was all so different than when Stefan was here. With all his quietness, she almost regarded him as a piece of furniture at times, forgetting he was even there. It was impossible to do that with Webb. He filled the room with a kind of vitality that unsettled the quiet tenor of her existence. It was a difference that was rooted in personality rather than the attraction she felt toward him. Webb stimulated, mentally and physically, while Stefan soothed. Lilli closed her eyes against the confusion of emotions as the door opened and Webb returned, stamping at the cold and snow.

  “It’s bitter out there.” He shook off the snow like a great dog and took off his outer clothes to move vigorously toward the stove.

  “How long do you think it will last?” The dishes were nearly done, leaving no more tasks to occupy the time.

  “The worst of it will pass in about twelve hours. Then it will just be blowing snow and cold.” He held his hands over the stove, warming them. “Do you need any help?”

  “No, I’m finished.” Lilli wiped the last dish and put it on the shelf.

  “I’ll add some more coals to the fire and get it stoked for the night.” As he reached for the coal bucket, Webb was aware of the tension his remark had created. His side glance noticed her wary expression that she didn’t fully conceal. “I’ll bed down here by the stove, if that’s all right.”

  “I’ll get you a quilt.” She walked across the room to the trunk and knelt down to open it. The folded spare quilt made an awkward bundle as she lifted it out and stood up. A pulse was hammering in her throat when she turned to carry it to Webb. He met her halfway to take it from her.

  Lilli surrendered it to him without meeting his gaze, without looking at his strong, chiseled features. She was on guard against the stirrings inside herself; yet, at the same time, she was unsettled by his failure to make any amorous advances toward her as he’d done in past encounters. Lilli was aware of the contradicting feelings that both wanted him to and didn’t want him to try something. Tempering her silence was the desire not to be guilty of inviting anything.

  When she’d given the quilt to him, she turned and walked to the foot of the bed, listening to the sound of his footsteps going toward the stove. She reached behind her and pulled the heavy sweater over her head. Under the circumstances, Lilli deemed it best to sleep in the blouse and long skirt she was wearing.

  So far, Webb felt he was winning the struggle with his low urges as he laid the quilt on the floor in front of the stove. Its width would allow him to sleep on half of it and cover himself with the other. The wide pool of light from the lantern was showing him too much of the other side of the room where Lilli was standing by the lone bed.

  “I’ll turn the lantern out.” He announced his intention before moving to the center of the room.

  Webb started to take her silence for assent, but as he reached up to turn down the wick, he glanced at Lilli to make certain she had no objection. Her back was turned to him and her hands were above her head, pulling the pins from her hair. The dark red mass tumbled down her back. A raw tightness gripped his chest, catching his breath.

  “Your hair is beautiful.” Somehow he’d known she’d make a stirring picture with her long hair all loose about her shoulders. As she turned with the sound of his voice, Webb moved toward her, drawn by a compulsion stronger than his control. He stopped short of her, still staring and searching for anything that would reveal her thoughts at this moment, but she wasn’t letting him see anything.

  “Are you happy, Lilli?” He needed to know. Maybe if she could convince him she was, he’d find the decency to walk back to the other side of the room.

  “I was—” Lilli cut her answer short, stunned to hear herself speak in the past tense, because it revealed something she hadn’t meant Webb to know. She tried to turn away, but his hands were on her shoulders to keep her facing him.

  “Does he make you happy?” This time it was a demand, not a question.

  “I don’t know. I’m so confused anymore that I—” She looked at him and knew it was a mistake. His hair gleamed black and thick, as dark as his eyes gleaming down on her. His features were handsome and rugged. Her gaze lingered on his mouth.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Lilli, unless you want me to kiss you,” he warned thickly, his voice a deep well of emotion.

  “Don’t you see? That’s just it. I do want you to kiss me.” The admission tumbled from her in an emotional protest at her own confusion.

  But Webb didn’t hear the protest within the admission as he gathered her into an embrace that they both had fought against and lost. The long, urgent kiss they shared was drugging in its force. Her arms were around him, pressing him ever more tightly against her, while his fingers combed into the thick tangle of her hair and held its weight against the back of her neck. The blood was pounding through her veins, making her feel light-headed and giddy, weak at the knees and in need of his body to support her.

  His roaming hand was alternately caressing and arching her spine to press her more fully to his male form. When his mouth slid off her lips to roll moist kisses over her cheek and temple, she could hear the labored rhythm of his breathing that sounded as disturbed as her own. His moist breath warmed skin that already felt feverishly hot. Passion and desire were new s
ensations for her, and Lilli wasn’t comfortable with them.

  “I knew this would happen if you ever came back,” she murmured in a choked voice. His hard chin was near the corner of her mouth, the smell of him exciting her senses.

  “Haven’t you realized yet that you can’t keep me away?” Webb asked, resting his forehead against her so their mouths could nearly touch and their breaths mingle. “God knows I’ve tried, but I can’t stay away from you.”

  The tantalizing nearness of his mouth was more temptation than she could bear. She shifted her arms to curl her hands around his neck and bring his head down while she lifted herself on tiptoe. This small display of aggression sparked his, and the driving pressure of his responding kiss forced her lips apart. When his invading tongue mated with hers, Lilli shuddered at the igniting impact on her senses.

  There seemed to be no right or wrong in what was happening. It was all too inevitable. Having Webb kiss her, hold her, and caress her seemed to be the reason she was born. When his lips began exploring the lobe of her ear and the curve of her throat, chills raced over her skin, awakening her already aroused flesh.

  While his nibbling and intimate kisses on her neck arched her backward, his fingers made short work of the little buttons on her blouse. Some thin undergarment barred him from her flesh, but it was like a second skin. When his cupping hand closed on a tautly rounded breast, he felt the hardened point of her nipple in his palm.

  Lilli moaned silently with a need she couldn’t express. All this kissing and touching had not been part of her experience, and certainly she had never been aroused like this before. With Stefan, he had merely expressed a desire to mate, then mounted her with few preliminaries, and even those had been tentative. She was beginning to understand that this hollow ache she felt in her loins was a direct response to the virile hardness of Webb.

  “I love you.” His mouth rocked over her lips as he murmured his declaration, “God help me, how I love you.”

  Those were words she’d heard from only one other man in her life, and that was Stefan, her husband. A sense of guilt invaded her, bringing with it the first resistance she’d shown to his embrace. Lilli averted her head from him and brought her hands down to his shoulders.