by Tia Dani
Getz's fingers dug deeper into her skin. Five sharp points of pain pierced the fleshy part of her upper arm. She gasped and hissed over his shoulder into the darkness. "Blast it! If you don't hit him now, so help me, I'm going to clobber him myself."
"Wha..at?" Getz stiffened and stared at her in confusion. "What the hell are you jabbering about?"
"She's talking about...this!"
Getz spun around so fast he didn't have time to release his grip on her shoulder. A fist came from the darkness and, with a loud crack collided with Getz's chin, sending him, and Libby, flying. Both of them landed on the ground with a thud.
Half-dazed, Libby struggled to sit and shoved Getz off her legs. When he flopped limply to her side without a sound, she knew he was out cold. To make sure, she searched for his pulse. Finding it steady, she said admiringly over her shoulder, "Holy Mackerel, Luke, you may want to be a world-class lover, but you might consid—"
"I am not your lover."
Goose bumps skittered up and down her arm. Goose bumps only appeared when...
She gaped at the man's silhouette towering over her. "Matthew," she squeaked.
"Get up."
His voice, cold and distant, made her scramble to her feet. "Wh...where's Lu...Luke?"
"In the barn. Dancing with Harriet." He grabbed her and slammed her against his chest.
She caught the smell of beer on his breath, but, this time, it wasn't unpleasant. "Where you should be," he snarled, "instead of out here alone with Getz."
"But...but...I...we..." She trailed off and stared up at him. The clouds had floated away and the moonlight shone overhead so she could see every harsh line etched in his face. Somehow, she had to make him understand. She touched his cheek, hoping to ease the severity from him.
"Matthew," she pleaded, "I had to come out here. I—"
He jerked his head away from her hand stopping her explanation. "It doesn't matter, Libby." His voice turned husky. "I don't care why you came out here."
"But..," Libby realized his hands moved from her arms to her back. His fingers trailed along her spine, and over her buttocks. All logic disappeared. She inhaled sharply as he pressed her lower body into his. She tried once more. "You don't understand. It's not what you think, Matthew. Luke and I, we—"
He cut her off. "Shut up, Libby. For once in your life, shut up."
Libby couldn't have uttered another word if her life had depended on it. Even before his mouth lowered, she felt the tension, the excitement of his closeness. She licked her lips to settle their tremors then gasped as his mouth captured her in a bruising kiss. The minute his tongue joined hers longing slid down her body, robbing her of all her strength.
Matthew pushed her back against the wall of the shed. She clung to his shoulders and allowed him to press the evidence of his desire against her body. His hardness gently knocked at the apex of her thighs. Her knees buckled.
His lips left her mouth and nibbled tiny kisses down her neck. As if by magic, the buttons of her bodice popped open, and his fingers worked the tiny ribbons holding her chemise closed.
She gasped as the night's cool air touched her skin then gasped again when his mouth closed over her breast. He kissed her exposed flesh, and her breath caught when his tongue dipped between her breasts then up and over the soft swells straining at the bodice. Mindless of everything but the sensation of his soft tongue, Libby tangled her fingers in his thick mane of hair and held him to her. She started to shake, throbbing core deep. She had never wanted a man more than she did now.
Her hands moved restlessly from his head to his muscular back and powerful shoulders. "Matthew...please—" She pulled at him, drawing him closer. "I want—"
A growl and another, "Shut up." stopped her pleading. Matthew's warm hand cupped her breast and he captured her lips again in a soul-melting kiss. Libby drifted into a timeless space of sensation. Nothing existed in the universe but the strong, muscular body molding to hers and liquid fire flowing from his lips.
When she couldn't take much more, Libby's skirt and petticoats lifted. Matthew hand slid up her thigh as he searched for the slit in her pantalets. She dropped her hand and frantically did the same, together they found the opening. Matthew broke off their kiss. When his warm mouth encircled her erect nipple and, at the same time, his finger slipped into her yearning center, she cried out. She arched her back and thrust her hips forward so she could take in more of him. He withdrew slightly, only to return again. Tremors rumbled through her. Libby's senses went wild. She smelled, tasted, and touched life itself. She heard the tiniest sounds of the night, especially the soft footsteps coming closer with every heartbeat.
Libby's eyes flew open. Footsteps, oh dear God. Panting, she looked over Matthew's head, trying to locate a dark form inching its way closer. Then she saw Luke coming up behind Matthew's half-bent form. He carried something in his hand.
"No...no." Libby struggled wildly in Matthew's arms. Because of the sudden darkness, Luke couldn't know who pressed her against the wall. He stepped closer, grinned and tapped Matthew on the shoulder. "Oh, Ge...etz," he said raising the blunt object.
Horrified, Libby choked out another, "No," as Matthew jerked away and turned with a snarl. Too late. Luke swung his weapon and connected with the side of Matthew's head. The crack of wood splintering, and Luke's cry, echoed in Libby's mind. His blow whipped Matthew's head to the side, and he spun away, hitting the edge of the tool shed.
"Damn! It's not Getz, it's Matt." Luke dropped to his knees and bent over his friend. "I thought it was Getz attacking you."
Libby, swallowing a sob, knelt down on trembling knees beside Luke. She held her breath as she tried to examine Matthew's head in the dark. Finding a sticky crease, she ordered, "Get a lantern, now. He's bleeding."
"Oh Lord, what have I done?" Luke's moan galvanized Libby into action. She shook his arm. "Go on, Luke, get a lantern." Lifting her skirt, she started ripping the bottom lace on her top petticoat. "I need to see how badly Matthew is hurt."
"But, I don't understand. What was Matthew doing—?"
"Go!"
Finally, he ran. Hinges squeaked as he opened the door to the shed. From inside crashes and curses rattled the walls. "Found one." he called. "Now where's the damn flint?"
Almost instantly, he was back, lighting a small lantern. The wick flickered and spurted to life. Light circled the area, and Libby bent over Matthew.
"Good God! What's going on here?"
Libby glanced up and noticed Luke staring at the unconscious Getz. She went back to tending Matthew's head while she explained. "Matthew took care of him. Which," she added dryly, "was what you were supposed to do. Where were you?"
Luke straightened angrily. "It's not my fault. How was I supposed to know you were going to duck out with Getz?"
"I didn't duck, I walked."
"You know what I mean."
She sighed, wrapping the material around Matthew's head. "I do. Matthew said you were dancing with Harriet. I thought we agreed you'd watch me at all times."
Luke knelt beside her, and Libby noticed he kept opening and closing his left hand then shaking it. "I tried to, but it was the craziest thing. She came up and insisted I dance with her. I didn't want to make a scene by refusing."
"I see."
"Oh no, you don't. I know what you're thinking." He reached out to touch her sleeve and cursed, "Damn, my hand hurts. I think I broke my hand."
"Libby, Libby. Come quick." James' voice echoed across the yard. He, along with two other young boys, skidded to a stop in front of them. All three panted excitedly. "Sarah," James managed to say between breaths, "is having her ba..baby, and...and..." Noticing the two unconscious men on the ground, he stared at them wide-eyed. "Holy Moses, what happened to them?"
Libby reached out and turned James to look at her instead of Matthew and Getz. "Never mind about them. What's this about Sarah?"
"Oh, yeah!" He grabbed her hand and tugged on it. "Grandmother, says ya gotta come ri
ght quick. There's somethin' wrong with the way the baby's comin'. She needs your help."
"Where are Katherine and Sarah?" Libby stood, noticing Luke kept wincing and shaking his hand. "Are they," she asked James, "at the house?"
The boy nodded rapidly. "Uh huh. They're upstairs."
Libby frowned. She looked down at Matthew and Claude Getz. Both still out cold. Lord, what a mess. She had a baby arriving, a man bleeding from a head wound, and another needing to be dealt with in an entirely unethical way. Realizing she couldn't do all of it at once, Libby inhaled and exhaled slowly. Stay calm, Libby, it's no different than the emergency room. You can handle it all. One thing at a time. Remain calm.
"All right," she said once she felt in control. "Here's what we'll do. James, you run back to the house and tell your Grandmother I'm on my way." Once James took off running with his two companions' right behind him, she turned Luke and pointed toward the barn. "Go get my father, Joseph, Tim, and Harold T. Have them help you move Matthew and Getz to the house."
"But, Libby, wait!" Luke eyed her in horror. She stood directly behind the lantern. "There's something you need to—"
"I don't have time for arguments, Luke. Sarah needs me, now." She lifted her skirts and started running toward the house. "Oh yeah," she hollered over her shoulder. "Tell my father I'm going to need my first-aid kit."
"Your what?"
"Tell him to bring my kit. He'll know what I'm talking about."
Stepping up to the kitchen door, Libby stopped. The door burst open and James barreled out with his two buddies almost knocking her over. One of the boys called out before he disappeared around the corner of the house. "We're gonna tell my Ma about this."
Libby sighed and walked into the kitchen. Two young girls, obviously belonging to Harriet Wilson, stood by the stove, watching several kettles steam. They were junior versions of their mother. "Hello, there."
They turned and spoke in unison, "Hello."
One asked, "You're Libby, aren't you?"
The other offered, "We're watching the kettles for Mrs. Strammon."
Libby nodded. "Good. We may need lots of hot water before this is over." She glanced at the table in the middle of the room. It wasn't as long as she would have liked, but it would have to do. She ran a hand over her tousled hair. "Would one of you do me a favor and start moving everything off the table? I'm going to need it very soon."
"I'll do it." Harriet Wilson volunteered as she stepped into the kitchen.
Libby turned and eyed the lovely, blue-eyed woman. Her expression was one of concern, but it changed to surprise when Libby faced her. Libby nodded gratefully even if she wasn't sure she liked the woman. At least Harriet provided an extra pair of hands. "All right, clear everything off, find a clean sheet and place it over the table. I'm going to have Matthew put on it so I can examine his head."
Harriet recovered from her surprise. She picked up a large platter of chicken and hesitated. "Is he hurt bad?"
"I'm not sure how badly he's hurt, but he's definitely bleeding." Libby turned toward the dry sink and started washing her hands with the harsh lye soap Luke kept on the rim.
The door opened, and Libby saw her father enter carrying the first-aid kit. "Here you go, kiddo," he said cheerfully. "Where do you want it?"
She turned, drying her hands, and looked around. "I need a table, a small one, so I can set out my instruments. Can you see to it?" She glanced upstairs, then back at him. "I want to examine Sarah before I do anything to Matthew's head."
Her father stared at her strangely. He started to open his mouth, but voices and the heavy shuffling of feet interrupted from outside.
Joseph backed into the kitchen first. He carried Matthew's upper body while Luke held onto his feet. Joseph glanced over his shoulder at her. "Where do you..." he trailed off, blinking once then slowly finished his question, "want him, Libby?"
She pointed to the table, ignoring his odd grin. "There, after Mrs. Wilson puts a sheet down. Where's Getz?"
"Right here." Tim's voice, muffled by Luke's frame, said, "Harold T. and I got him." They entered carrying Getz much the same way, Joseph and Luke carried Matthew. They paused and looked around the crowded kitchen. Tim looked at her for several seconds and he said with amusement, "I reckon this one's gotta go someplace else."
As she started to answer, she heard Harold T. mutter under his breath.
"I'll be a—" Tim coughed out loud and Harold T. snapped his mouth shut.
Libby wondered what was wrong with them then decided she didn't have time to worry over their amusement. She needed Getz put someplace private. What she had in mind for him needed no witnesses. "I...uh...put him in the parlor."
She tried to get Luke's attention. He seemed captivated by the way Harriet smoothed out one of his sheets over the table. Libby gave up on Luke and turned to her father. "Dad, would you watch over Getz for me?"
A brief smile crossed her father's face before he followed the two men carrying their burden. As he passed her, he hesitated and whispered in her ear. "I suggest you take a few minutes and button up your dress. Your lace is showing."
"What?" Libby slapped a hand over her chest, feeling her cheeks flush as memories of what had taken place with Matthew came flooding back. In the commotion, she'd forgotten all about Matthew unbuttoning her dress and untying her chemise. She spun toward the wall and began fumbling with the dangling ribbons in front of her opened bodice. "Why didn't you say something sooner?" she hissed.
"You were too busy barking out orders. Nobody had a chance to say a word. And besides, I don't think anybody quite knew what to say."
Libby groaned in embarrassment. "Why me? Why does it always have to happen to me?" She straightened her dress and growled, "I hope he has one hell of a headache when he wakes up."
Her father chuckled. "Who? Matthew or Getz?
"Who do you think?" Without waiting for his answer, Libby lifted her skirts and sprinted up the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-one
Libby straightened from examining Sarah. She rolled down the sleeves of her fresh blouse and smiled. "It might not be as bad as we think. The baby is turned sideways in a transverse presentation. You're not dilated enough to start labor. We'll see what happens in the next couple hours. There's a good possibility the baby will turn on its own."
Katherine sat at the head of Luke's bed and straightened several tangled locks of Sarah's hair. "What if it doesn't?"
"I'll have to turn it then."
Katherine's eyebrows furrowed. "Have you done this before?"
"No, but I've observed the procedure at Kan...the hospital."
"I have faith in you, Libby." Sarah's voice was faint, but Libby heard her.
"Thank you."
Turning to a basin sitting on a small table, she washed her hands briskly and said over her shoulder, "Would you mind telling me what you were doing when the pains started?"
"I...I came to get my eggs and—"
Katherine snorted and finished Sarah's explanation. "Her husband started them."
"What?" Libby spun around. Getz had been with her for the last forty minutes or so. "When? How? Why?"
"Apparently, he followed her to the house. I came to see if Sarah needed any help and walked in as he threw her against the kitchen wall." Katherine lifted one of Sarah's wrist's and showed Libby the whole arm. "Look what he did to her because she wouldn't return to the barn and dance with him?"
Red abrasions streaked the inner side of Sarah's arm. Libby's own skin burned where Getz had gripped her. Rage filled her, and she clenched her hands into fists. "Sarah," she said though gritted teeth. "After tonight, if everything goes the way I want it to, he'll never hurt you again. He'll never hurt anyone, deliberately, again."
Tears pooled in Sarah's eyes. "Oh, Libby, if only you could."
"I can. Wait and see."
"But what can you do?"
"I can't tell you. And, even if I did tell you, you probably wouldn't believe me." Libby headed for th
e door, and then glanced back to Katherine. "If there's any change, come get me."
"Where are you going?
"I'm going to check Matthew's head."
"What's wrong with it? Other than being hard?"
Katherine's straight-faced comment made Libby smile. "He might not think it's so hard after he wakes up."
"Wakes up?"
"Yes, Luke conked him over the head with a piece of firewood."
"He did what?"
She had both women's full attention now, but it was Sarah who seemed the most upset.
"But...but...Luke?" Sarah struggled to sit up. "He'd never do something so mean."
Surprised by Sarah's vehemence, Libby blinked herself. "I'll tell you later, Okay? After I get back."
"No, I have to know."
"It's really nothing." Libby saw Sarah's distress tried to reassure her. "Honestly, Sarah, it was a mistake. Luke didn't know he was hitting Matthew, he thought he was hitting...er...someone else."
"But Luke wouldn't hit anyone for no reason." This came from Katherine. "I've known him all his life. He never was one to fight."
"He wasn't fighting," Libby added lamely. "He was doing me a favor."
"You call hitting someone over the head a favor?" Sarah's voice rose to a higher pitch.
"Now, Sarah." Libby crossed the room to her friend who was clearly becoming more distressed by the minute. "Here, lie back down. I'll tell you everything if it will make you stay quiet. But you have to promise to stay calm."
Five minutes later, Libby was able to leave Sarah and Katherine, with at least some peace of mind. She couldn't believe how distraught Sarah had been over Luke hitting someone. Sarah didn't seem to care at all her husband had been knocked unconscious by Matthew, just that Luke hit someone. Libby shrugged and sprinted down the stairs. She'd always heard pregnant women sometimes acted strange when the birthing hormones took over.
Entering the kitchen, Libby found it empty of people, except for Luke who kept watch over Matthew. Immediately she washed her hands again, then joined him beside the table. "Has he moved at all?"
