by Everly West
"Yes," she said as he turned to look at her.
Staring at her, his eyes skimmed her clothing. "Do you think we are going into town?"
For a moment, she stopped and gazed at him. Not a you look nice, or that's pretty or even how do you like your eggs? Instead, he was commenting on her choice of clothing. "Well, I thought after we went to the Smith's for tea, you might take me to that nice restaurant where I've been wanting to eat."
This was all she had. In fact, this gown was probably one of her less dressy outfits.
The expression on his face changed and his lips turned up in a smile as he laughed. "Either the cold has affected your sensibilities, or the lady is quite good at sarcasm."
She shrugged. "You started it. Sorry my wardrobe is not fit for the Montana wilderness."
Nodding, he turned back to the pan on the stove.
"Do you have something wrong with your tongue?"
With a jerk, he glanced back at her. "What makes you ask?"
Maybe he needed to know the truth. Maybe someone should tell him that he said very little, but assumed people knew how he felt.
"Because conversation with you is ninety percent you nodding your head. So I thought maybe something was wrong with your tongue," she finally asked.
His eyes narrowed and she feared she'd made him angry, then he laughed like she was the one with the problem. Sitting here day in and day out with no one who would talk to her would be difficult. What if this didn't work out? What if they hated each other?
Concentrating on the eggs, he said, "Ninety-nine percent of the time, there's no one here but me and Bacon. Conversation is something I'm not use to."
"Bacon? You talk to pork?"
A smile spread across his face. "No, he's my dog. I left him in the barn with the other animals. I thought you might be frightened of him."
Anna put her hands on her waist. "You have a dog and didn't tell me?"
Turning the eggs, he reached into the cabinet for plates. "Yes. I didn't tell you about the chickens or the pigs either. Do you like chickens? What do you think of pigs?"
The man could definitely be annoying.
"Eh, they're okay. But I've always wanted a dog. Father said I couldn't have one," she said softly.
"When I go into town, I leave him in the barn," he said, sliding the eggs onto the plates and handing her one.
They sat at the small table.
"Is he a big dog?"
"He's about fifty pounds and four hands high."
"That's a big dog," she said, cutting her eggs with her fork and knife.
He stopped eating and watched her. "Why are you massacring your eggs?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're slicing them into little pieces. Can't you do that with your fork?"
She tilted her head and gave him a haughty look. "This was how I was raised. My dad always cut his eggs this way. Who taught you how to daintily eat your eggs?"
"My mother."
A trickle of jealousy rippled through her. How fortunate that he got to know his mother. Oh, how she would have loved to have known her mother.
"My father taught me. And he was a fifth generation Charlestonian."
"My mother was the daughter of a preacher. So la-di-da."
It was the longest discussion they'd had and it was over how to cut eggs.
They finished their breakfast in silence. Every time she thought of her father, her heart clenched in pain and she closed her eyes. It was so unfair the way he died and yet there was nothing she could do to fight the colonel.
"You all right?"
Opening her eyes, she stared across the table at him. "I'm fine." She propped her chin in her hand and gazed at him. "Where are your folks?"
"Dead," he said flatly.
He got up from the table and put water on the stove to heat. "Don't you miss them?"
"Every day," he said wistfully. "They were supposed to come with me to Montana."
For a brief moment, a glimpse of sadness crossed his face and that confused her. Why would he feel sad?
"What happened?"
"They were killed."
"Oh," she said, staring at him, thinking how painful it was to lose a family member. After all, her own father had been killed by the Union solders.
"It was before the war," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Must be hard living out here all alone."
"Nah," he said. "I've gotten used to it." He turned and stared at her. "It's why I don't talk much."
She shook her head at him. "You should get into town more."
"I go when I need to," he said, effectively cutting her off. The man was difficult to have a conversation with. But then again, her father hadn't been a talker.
"Do you want me to help with those dishes?" she asked, watching him and thinking she'd never seen anyone do dishes. That was something the servants took care of, but now it would be her task until they made enough money for her to hire servants.
"Today, you take it easy. Tomorrow we'll start with your chores," he said, turning his back to her.
She'd never had chores in her life and suddenly she was going to be expected to cook and clean and probably even do the laundry. This could get interesting in a hurry. Standing at the sink, she studied this man she married. Some things never changed, and a good-looking man in a pair of tight britches fueled her imagination.
The pants he wore defined the muscles in his legs and his backside, which was well-shaped and cute. She'd never noticed a man's behind before, but with his back turned to her while his hands were in soapy water, she was enjoying the view. Didn't hurt to look as long as he didn't catch her.
Suddenly he turned and frowned.
"Uh, what do you want me to do?" she asked, knowing she'd been caught.
"Why don't you throw another log on the fire," he said. "I'm finishing these dishes and then going to the barn to check on the animals."
"Didn't you do that already this morning?"
"Yes."
Yesterday, had he not fed the animals as much? Why was he going out to the barn once again?
"They need feeding again?"
"No, I want to make certain they have enough water and feed and they're staying warm," he replied not looking at her.
Why did she get the feeling he was going out to the barn to escape being with her? Why did it seem he wanted to put distance between them?
She watched as he pulled on his coat, then boots, and finally his hat and scarf. Opening the door, he stepped into the blizzard. She ran to the kitchen window above the sink and watched him disappear into the driving snowflakes. She could see the rope near the house moving.
She could walk to the barn in the snow. She wanted to see his animals. She wanted to see his dog. She wanted out of this darn building for just a few moments. Sure, she could pick up her knitting or even read a book she'd brought, but more than anything, she wanted to escape this tension-filled room.
Right now, her life felt out of control and the feel of a sweet dog licking her hand would be something she hadn't experienced since she was a child.
Running into the bedroom, she found his clothes and put them on. The pants were way too long and she rolled up the hem and stuffed the material into her boots. She took a scarf and slid it through the belt loops.
Yesterday, several times, she'd come dangerously close to losing her pants and embarrassing herself even more in front of Levi. She couldn't manage the snow, the rope, and the pants, so she tied the scarf around her waist.
Slipping her coat on, she took a deep breath and braved the cold.
Opening the door, the blast of frigid air almost had her turning back. She wanted to see the dog. Snowflakes poured from the sky, blinding her. Groping in the snow for the rope she knew he'd tied to the house, relief filled her when she found the lifeline. Stepping off the snow-covered porch, she was unprepared when she sank to mid-thigh in a drift. Her dress would never have made it through the mounds.
As it
was, she followed the path that Levi had made to the barn. A gust of wind almost blew her over, but she hung tightly to the rope. The snow was falling so thickly, she couldn't see anything but whiteness surrounding her, and the cold seeped through the pants to her legs, leaving her skin chilled to the bone. Her hands began to go numb and she feared she would drop the rope and never find it again in the snow.
This had been a crazy idea. Though she barely knew Levi, she knew enough about him to know he wasn't going to be happy. He would be angry that she'd left the safety of the house. All because she wanted to see a dog. Sometimes she did silly things without thinking through the consequences. Sometimes she just liked to show she made her own decisions.
She could hear her father's voice inside her head telling her to think before she acted, and still, she'd forgotten and found herself in trouble. Right now, she just wanted to reach that barn door at the end of this rope and slip inside where, hopefully, it was warmer. And she could pet his dog.
When she was about to lose hope and feeling in her fingers, she felt a handle in front of her. She opened the door and walked inside.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, staring at her, his eyes darkened as he glared at her.
Shaking, her lips frozen, she tried to talk. "I...was...bored. I...thought...I'd...come...see...your...dog."
He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward a small stove. Seizing her hand, he began to rub her fingers gently between his hands. "If you'd dropped that rope, you could have wandered off and I would never have found you. Don't you ever go out of the house in weather like this again without me by your side. Do you understand me?"
Once again, she'd done something to displease him, but she was learning. This was all new to her and she had no idea of the dangers. This was what happened when you put a city girl in the wilderness.
"Yes," she said, shivering so hard, she feared her bones would break. "I didn't think it would be this bad. It's scary out there."
"You could have died," he said, his face taut with rage. "You're soaking wet, you're freezing and..."
He gazed down into her face. They were mere inches apart. He pulled her against him, the solid strength of his body crashed into her and she gasped as she felt every hard inch of him through the pants she wore. Her body thrummed with a sudden awakening.
The smell of him flooded her and she gasped as a thousand needles stung her hands, but he didn't let her go. Staring into her eyes, he gazed at her lips and her nerves seemed to liven and stretch to a tightness she'd never experienced.
"Ah, hell," he said as his lips slammed down on hers.
Levi knew he wasn't being gentle. This woman had been driving him crazy for two days with her sweet lips and her luscious curves and the way her eyes would glance at him half-lidded as if she were peeking out beneath those long lashes.
Crushing her mouth beneath his, her taste flooded his senses and he longed to pick her up and carry her to the hayloft and unwrap her like a Christmas present.
After all, they were married. She was his wife and yet there were twenty-nine long days ahead of them before they could have sex.
His hand reached up to caress the side of her cheek, holding her mouth firmly in place.
A moan escaped the back of her throat and slowly his rational mind overcame his desire. Abruptly, he stepped away, putting distance between them, knowing where those kinds of kisses led and the results.
Breathing hard, his chest rising and falling as he stared at her in shock, as he tried to gather himself when all he wanted to do was continue.
"I'll take you back to the house," he said, knowing that if they continued, the thirty days would be over.
Standing in front of him, her hand had gone to her mouth, and she gazed at him in wonder. "Who taught you to kiss like that?"
He laughed. "That's not open for discussion. Now, let's go."
"No," she responded, glaring at him like she was just stubborn enough to resist. Could his southern belle have a temper?
All he wanted was some time away from her. Time to get his desire under control. Time to clear his head of the way she looked in those skintight, soaking-wet pants, and the way she smelled so sweetly of roses and lavender. Of the way she seemed to engulf his little home, making the room feel so tight and small with her there at his every move.
Now she had invaded his sanctuary and refused to leave.
"Only if I can take the dog with me," she said, her hand stroking Bacon, the traitor staring up at her with adoring eyes.
"All right," he said, thinking that would mean letting the dog out every few hours. But maybe that would be good, because that would give him a chance to quench this physical hunger that consumed him.
"Let's go," he said. When they reached the door, he laid his hand on her arm. "Wait."
Quickly, he slid a rope from around his waist and tied it to her belt and then hooked her onto the line. She gazed down at the setup. "Really, you think this is necessary?"
In this weather, if she were to stray from him, they could both become lost. And the thought of losing her was more than he could stand. He wanted this marriage to work. As her husband, he would do everything he could to keep her safe.
"I'm not taking any chances. If something happens, then I'll be the one lost between here and the house, not you."
Frowning, she bit her lip, tilted her head and gazed at him. "And you think that would be a good thing for me? This girl from Charleston has no clue how to survive in this kind of weather."
"You'd learn."
"Promise me, you won't let that happen," she said softly. "I don't want your death on my conscience."
The way she was looking at him had him rethinking leaving the barn. But if they didn't, his animals were going to hear and see things they'd never witnessed. The snow had to cool him down.
"I'm not ready to die just yet," he said, his mind imagining the two of them naked, their limbs intertwined. Oh no, he was going to live long enough to experience his beautiful wife. There was no way he was leaving this earth today without a fight. In twenty-nine days, they would be legally married, if they made it that long.
Opening the barn door, they looked out at the blowing snow and the dog whined.
"How long can this last?" she asked.
"The last really big storm blew for three days and took me almost a week to dig out."
The storm had to end soon, but until it did, they would have to remain alert and not get lost in the blizzard. That would mean spending time in the house together. Maybe the dog would be a distraction.
"Wait, Bacon," he told the dog and walked over and grabbed a leash. Quickly, he secured the dog. He knew he would stay beside him, but he feared Bacon getting too far away and losing him in the blinding snow.
Holding onto the dog, with Anna walking in front of him, they made their way from the barn. The deep snow came up to the dog's chest, creating a trough wherever he walked.
Halfway there, he watched in disbelief as Anna slipped on something in the snow, her feet flying up in the air as she came down hard in the drift, tripping him.
He landed on top of her. Even in the cold, he could feel her soft curves and warm body. Her breasts were flattened beneath his chest. She glanced up into his eyes and laughed. With the wind blowing, the two of them lay there and he knew they needed to get moving again, but the feel of his wife's body beneath his own had his mind dreaming of the two of them together.
"Why is this so difficult? Why does it seem like we keep touching one another?"
What could he say? She'd done nothing wrong and yet they were starting that descent into dangerous territory.
Hanging onto the rope, Levi felt the tautness suddenly go slack and knew immediately the line had broken somewhere in the middle.
A gust of ice and snow battered them and he watched the end of the rope flapping in the breeze, flakes of snow hurtling at them so fast, he felt like he was drowning.
"Are you all right?" he yelled into the
wind, rolling off her and standing. For once, he had to agree with her. This wasn't helping him keep his distance.
Anna sat up. "I hate this. I like palm trees much better."
He reached down and helped her to her feet. She glanced down at the empty hook. "I broke the rope."
"Yes," he replied, wondering if it was worth trying to find the other half, blowing in the wind, that led to the house. "Stay right here. Don't move. I'm going to look for this end of the rope."
"But..."
"And hold onto the dog's leash," he said, handing it to her.
The dog barked in protest as Levi walked away searching for the frayed ends of the rope tied to the porch. Afraid to walk too far, he made a circle. Minutes later, he gave up. As he retraced his own footsteps, he heard her singing.
"Where are you, Levi Jackson. Where did you go? Come back to me and don't leave me in the snow."
A grin spread across his face. The woman had certainly made his life entertaining, never letting it get boring. It was a unique way for her to reach out to him and it warmed his heart, but not his toes. They had to keep walking and hope they made it to the house.
When he reached her, Bacon started barking, his tail wagging. "I heard you singing."
"Good, I was so afraid you would get lost. Did you find the rope?" she yelled over the blowing wind and snow.
"No. Clip your hook into the back of my pants. We're going to try to make it without the rope. It's all we can do."
She closed her eyes for a moment.
"What are you doing? Let's go."
"Praying. Don't interrupt me."
How could he argue with her about reaching out for help from above? While he knew the house was not far, the snow fell so thick, he couldn't see the structure. One wrong step and they could be wandering in the snow just feet from safety.
Opening her eyes, she scooted behind him and he felt the hook.
"Now give me the leash," he said.
"I want to keep him."
"Give me the dog," he demanded. His new wife might have a stubborn streak in her.
"All right," she said, frustration in her voice as she handed him the leather line.
