by Jillian Hart
“They’re too big, Lucas. I feel top-heavy sometimes. My mother said it was a shame I’d never be able to wear fashionable clothes, for my shape is wrong for the current styles.”
“Your mother needs her head examined, for there isn’t a thing wrong with your body, Lizzie. It’s shaped just right for a woman. Just right for me. I never had much luck with small women. I was always fearful of— Well, never mind that. Let’s just say that you couldn’t be more perfect for me if you tried. The first look I got at you, I knew you were the best deal I’d ever made. Sending for you was smart of me. I’d like to make you happy tonight.”
“I don’t know what to do, Lucas. Just go ahead and take what you want from me and I promise not to make any fuss.”
“I know what to do, sweetheart. I’ll take your virginity and be the happiest man in Missouri.”
She nodded. His hand was careful, gentle as he touched her, his movements aimed at giving her pleasure. She lifted her hips to him, as though she would coax his fingers deeper within, and his hand and fingers moved to where he knew she would feel the most intense pleasure.
Her breathing quickened, her eyes closed and he heard small sounds catch in her throat as her body writhed beneath his touch. She stiffened suddenly and he bent to her, his mouth covering hers, swallowing the sounds of pleasure from her lips as she erupted in his hands, her hips rising and falling, her body twisting against him. And then she was still, her eyes open wide, her mouth still captured by his, and he lifted himself from her and rolled to lie between her thighs.
“Here, sweetheart.” He lifted her legs a bit. “Let me do this, Lizzie.” He touched the opening of her body with the blunt tip of his manhood and felt the moisture drawing him within. She was warm, her legs trembling beside his hips, and he whispered soft words of encouragement as he pressed within.
“I’m trying not to hurt you, Elizabeth. Just relax as much as you can, love.”
She exhaled, her legs turning limp as she opened to him and he was seated deeply within her. He felt the constriction of her maidenhood as he penetrated, and he pushed forward, knowing that if she were ever to be in pain, it was right at this moment.
But the woman beneath him was relaxed, her arms coming up to encircle him, hugging his waist, her legs stiffening to enclose him in an embrace he hadn’t expected. He lost himself in that moment, deeply bedded within his wife, his body surging toward completion of this act of marriage. And then he was there, with an outpouring such as he’d never known. He lay atop her, limp, relaxed and replete.
“Now I’m your wife, aren’t I?” she asked in a whisper against his ear. “Sissy was wrong, Lucas. It wasn’t painful—just a sharp twinge there for a second. And I don’t care about the messy part she spoke of. I’m feeling like a wife right now.”
“You ought to, sweetheart.” His hands crept up to lose themselves in her hair; he tangled his fingers in the dark locks that lay spread upon her pillow. “This is what I’ve wanted to do all the livelong day,” he whispered.
“Lie on top of me?” she asked.
He laughed aloud. “No, woman. I’ve needed to touch your hair in just this way, to feel it tangle around my fingers and know that no matter how you bind it up tomorrow, I’ll remember how it looked tonight.” And then he lifted himself a bit to look down at her. “Although lying on top of you is certainly worth a few daydreams, now that I think about it. In fact, if I weren’t so doggone heavy, I’d just stay right here till morning.”
“You’re not too heavy, Lucas. Remember, I’m a big woman.”
“You sure are, sweetheart. A fine figure of a woman, like my daddy used to say.”
He rolled from her then and drew her close, covering her with the sheet, easing his hand over her hip to draw her into his long frame. She fit well, he decided. Not short and fragile as Doris had been, but a woman he didn’t fear harming with his big body. And then he felt a dash of guilt for so putting Doris in the background of his mind. She’d been his wife for a long time, and he supposed she’d done her best to make him happy, but never had he felt that she fully accepted her role as his mate. She was dainty, petite and frail, and he was big, burly and strong. That said it all, he decided.
And apparently Elizabeth was satisfied with him, even if things were a little messy.
When the sun came up, Elizabeth heard the rooster crow, felt the man behind her move his hand from her belly to her breast, and recognized that she was a married woman and that her hair was in tangles and she was no doubt blushing.
“Turn over and let me look at you,” Lucas said quietly.
“I can’t do that.” She hid her face beneath her hands and rolled to the side of the bed. “I’m going to get up, Lucas. It’s time to be fixing breakfast.”
“I know, but I want to see your blush. And don’t try to tell me you aren’t blushing, sweetheart, because I won’t believe it. Not for a minute.”
She grasped the sheet from him, stood and wrapped it around her body in one smooth movement. Then she turned and looked down at him. “Now are you satisfied?”
“For now, but not for long, ma’am. It’s gonna be a long day, I fear.”
She shook her head, her hair flying in abandon around her shoulders. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Wait until tonight and I’ll tell you. Just remember I’m planning on going to bed early tonight, love.”
Chapter Three
It was different, the feeling she had this morning. As if the old Elizabeth had disappeared and in her place stood Luc’s wife. The woman who had whispered and cried out her pleasure in his bed just hours past. Elizabeth smiled at the memory.
She’d like to get hold of Sissy right now, she thought. From what her sister had said, Amos was a mean man to make Sissy despise the marriage bed as she did, and Elizabeth would like to fill her head with Lucas’s idea of a wedding night. And yet that would be a cruelty, to brag about her husband, knowing that Sissy was stuck with Amos, for no doubt her lot in life would not improve while she lived in his house.
Living in Lucas’s house looked to suit her just fine, Elizabeth decided, struck once again by the fact that she could do whatever she liked in this place—fix up the garden with some care and watering, set the kitchen to rights with curtains and such, and make a marriage out of her situation with Lucas. He was a fine figure of a man, sure enough, and all hers.
She felt a blush steal over her face as she again recalled Lucas’s big hands on her body, his fingers working magic where they would, and his kisses that had taken her to a place where pleasure dwelt. Pleasure Sissy might never realize with Amos.
She blushed, standing alone in the kitchen, remembering the man who had taken her body with such patience and gentle touches. Whose mouth had explored places on her body where no man had ever trespassed. Whose words had told her of his pleasure and satisfaction with her, with an air of arrogance she’d found puzzling. As if his first wife had not succeeded in granting him the pleasure due a husband.
This morning he’d come down the stairs, ready to tend to his chores, and had found her before the open oven, intent on sliding a pan of biscuits into its depths.
He’d halted beside her and waited till she stood, closing the oven door. She’d looked up at him, once more pleased to be able to look up at a man, especially her husband, and her brows rose in silent query.
“Just wanted to tell you good-morning,” he said quietly, lifting his hand to touch her cheek. “I see your hair is all bundled up again, Lizzie. But I can wait till tonight, and then I’ll take it down.”
He eyed her with what seemed to be a degree of concern, and his voice was low, his question spoken in an undertone. “You are all right, aren’t you? Did I hurt you? Last night, I mean?” He seemed a bit concerned, Elizabeth thought, as though he felt obliged to ask her such a thing, but felt uncomfortable doing so.
“No, you didn’t hurt me, Lucas. Not any more than I’d have expected, anyway. I’m fine.”
He nodded
, bent toward her a bit and then, as if changing his mind, stood erect once more and backed away from her. “I’ll be in the barn. The boys are out there already, and we’ll have the chores done in about half an hour. Will breakfast be ready by then?” He peered over her shoulder to where strips of bacon lay in his biggest iron skillet.
“It’ll be ready,” she said agreeably, wondering if he’d thought to kiss her and then changed his mind. She watched as he turned and snatched his hat from a nail on the wall by the back door, slapped it on his head and took his leave. His long legs carried him quickly to the barn and he paused to speak to his youngest son, Toby, who was excited from the looks of him, almost dancing in place as he waved his hands and spoke loudly, pointing into the barn. He took Lucas’s hand and they disappeared together beyond the barn door.
Something was going on out there, she decided. No doubt she’d find out from the boys what the excitement was all about. In the meantime, she had work to do, even as she awaited Lucas’s return. For now, she knew he was in the barn and she kept a weather eye on the back door, watching for him to head for the house, doing her best to have breakfast ready when he walked in the door. The table was almost set, the bacon nearly finished and eggs awaiting the skillet. The biscuits, covered with a towel, nestled in a small crock on the table and the boys’ glasses were filled with milk. She’d found thick, cream-colored china mugs in the cupboard, and now she set one of them before Lucas’s place at the table. She’d say one thing for Lucas. The man had enough pots and pans and crocks in his kitchen, and she prided herself that they were all clean and ready for use.
A sound on the back porch caught her attention and she turned to see Josh, the eldest of Lucas’s sons, standing on the other side of the screen door. She was drawn to the sturdy boy, already taking on the form of his father, for he was dark haired and strong featured, as was Lucas. He’d grow into his nose and ears one day, she figured, having seen numerous small boys grow year by year until they matched up to the bodies that had seemed to be changing too fast for their minds to keep up with.
No doubt Lucas had looked much as did Josh when he was but a boy. And now he was tall, stalwart and had a degree of beauty rarely seen in a man, certainly not evident in Amos, as she recalled. For Lucas possessed true beauty—not a blend of physical traits, but a sense of knowing his own strengths meshed with the arrogance of a man who’d been tried and not found wanting. Her heart beat just a little faster as she thought of the long, lean length of the man who’d made her his wife just last night, and she had to force herself to concentrate on the boy before her.
He sought her attention, bringing her gaze to the treasure he carried in his hands. And then he spoke her name. “Miss Elizabeth, want to see something mighty pretty?”
She smiled and moved closer to the door. “I’m always eager to see beauty in any way, shape or form, Josh. What do you have there?”
He stood facing her, and nestled within his joined palms was a tiny creature, probably not more than a few hours old. He was obviously offering it for her approval.
“I didn’t know you had a dog, Josh, or that she was expecting a litter.”
“She had them during the night, seven of them. Pa said it was lucky that most of them were boys, ’cause the farmers hereabouts like male dogs to work their cattle.”
“Will you sell them when they’re old enough?”
“All but one. Pa said I could pick one to keep for a pet.”
“A male? To raise for the cattle herding?”
He grinned. “Probably, ’cause Emma is a girl and she’s pretty good at herding, but now she’ll be busy with her pups and if she’s gonna keep on having babies, Pa said we’d need a male.”
“I think your pup needs to go back to the mother now, Josh. She won’t like having one of them go missing. And your breakfast is ready to put on the table.”
“Yeah, Pa said I couldn’t take him out of Emma’s box for longer than five minutes, and I think my time is up. But I’ll be back in a few minutes, ma’am. I’m hungry.” He turned, walking carefully down the steps, holding his prize close to his chest as he went.
Elizabeth watched as he walked to the barn, noting the arrogant stride he assumed, much like his father’s she decided with a smile, wondering for a moment if it was an inherited trait or a desire to emulate the man he loved so well.
No doubt it was the arrival of the puppies that had caused Toby to be so excited, for nothing could so delight a young boy, nor please him, as could a puppy. It had been a spot of good luck when someone had dropped off a young pup at the orphanage in Boston one day, and the small creature had found himself immediately adopted by almost thirty boys, all of them eager to bestow their affection on the tiny morsel of a mongrel. She’d learned then that there was a special tie between dogs and boys, one she’d gained a great deal of satisfaction from, watching and learning about such a thing. Toby and Josh were in for a real treat, with a litter of pups to tend to. She relished the idea of their pleasure today, aware that the two boys had already managed to find a place in her affections.
She turned back to the stove, where the last slices of bacon sizzled in the big iron skillet. Automatically she picked up the wooden-handled fork to turn it. Nine slices fit neatly before her, and a crock of eggs stood at her left elbow, awaiting their turn in the bacon grease. Elizabeth lifted the bacon to a piece of brown grocer’s paper to drain and set it in the warming oven atop the iron stove.
Five eggs fit neatly into the pan, the bacon grease cooking them rapidly, and she turned them over swiftly, allowing but a few seconds until she scooped them onto plates. She cast an eye toward the back porch and the yard, hoping to see signs of Lucas and his boys. And sure enough, from the barn, all three of her menfolk appeared and she smiled as she repeated the phrase aloud. “All three of my men.” It was a pure delight, although she was smart enough to know that all would not always go well. There was a heap of adjusting to do on all their parts—more of it taking place on her side, no doubt. For these three were used to doing things their own way, and adapting to her notions of behavior might cause a fuss once in a while.
They halted at the horse trough and splashed water over their arms and hands, bending to douse their faces, and then with their hands they smoothed back their hair, the two boys keeping a close eye on their father as they imitated his actions. Together they trooped to the porch, and in through the back door.
“Stop right there,” Elizabeth said in a stern voice, and, wonder of wonders, they obeyed. She’d used her best teacher voice, one she’d honed at the orphanage when keeping control of a herd of rambunctious boys, and these three responded as had her charges in Boston.
“Ma’am?” Lucas said, his voice carrying a query as he narrowed his eyes in her direction.
“I’ve just swept this floor, and unless the lot of you have stomped the dirt off outside on the porch, I’d appreciate it if you did so now. Either that or take off your boots.”
“Too much trouble,” Josh muttered beneath his breath, but as his father held open the screen door, he stepped onto the porch and made a big production of stamping his feet, then bending to check the bottoms of his boots for dirt. She caught the sheepish grin Lucas shot in her direction as he reentered the kitchen, and she turned to hide her own answering smile.
The man was too cocky for his own good. But he’d backed her up, made her feel her notions mattered, and for that she was grateful.
They ate her food without delay, pausing only long enough to listen as she said a few words of thanksgiving for the meal they were about to eat. Toby looked interested as she said the amen.
“Who was you talkin’ to, Miss Lizzabet?” He looked puzzled, checking the corners of the room as though he’d missed a guest.
“I was praying, thanking God for our food,” she said quietly, lifting her hand to her lips, desperate to hide the grin that threatened to appear as she heard the mispronunciation of her name.
“We never did that before,”
Toby said, tucking in to his scrambled eggs.
“Yeah, we did. But you were too little to remember,” Josh said. “Mama always did that before we ate.”
“And did she take you to church on Sundays?” Elizabeth asked.
“I dunno,” Toby said, his mouth full, reaching for a biscuit.
“Mind your manners, son,” Lucas said quietly, taking the biscuit from him and splitting it in half before he buttered both sides.
“We used to go, before mama died,” Josh volunteered.
“But not since?” she asked, looking at Lucas.
He shook his head. “Been too busy.” He lowered his head, thinking of the faith Doris had held so dear. And what good had it done her? Had the prayers of her pastor saved her life? The whole rigamarole of church seemed empty to him. But if Elizabeth was so inclined, he’d try to be agreeable about it. It was what Doris had wanted for her sons, and surely he owed her that much allegiance as the mother of his children.
Elizabeth spoke up in a firm voice. “Well, I won’t be too busy, come Sunday. I’ll expect an escort to church in town, or else your permission to use your mare and the buggy.”
“I’ll take you,” Lucas said, his voice strained, as if he held back words better unspoken.
“Can we go, too, Pa?” Toby asked.
“I’ll be sure to have your best shirts all ironed and ready if you’d like to go along,” Elizabeth offered.
“I don’t got a best shirt,” Toby said, stuffing a piece of bacon into his mouth.
“Well, then, I’ll check out your things and find the best of the lot.”
“Making changes already, Miss Elizabeth?” Lucas asked quietly, his eyes hard. The woman was strong willed, sure enough, and he’d have to make some compromises along the way if this marriage was to succeed. Suddenly Lucas found he very much wanted things to work out with Elizabeth. She was strong and forthright, a woman to be respected.
