Frontier Bride (Harlequin Historical)

by Ana Seymour

  Ethan moved around to put himself between her and the fire so no one could see his face but her. “As I’ve told you before, I don’t stay around the same place for very long. But I’ll come back and see how you’re doing.” His grave eyes studied her, not just her face, but along the length of her. Suddenly he gave a forced smile and said lightly, “Perhaps you’ll invite me to your wedding.”

  Hannah gave a huff of exasperation. The man had the most infuriating way of making her feel exhilarated, then weepy, then angry all in rapid succession. “Perhaps I will, Captain,” she said, rising to her feet. “For now, I’ll bid you good-night.”

  “Good night,” he said softly, still watching her with intense eyes.

  One thing was certain, Hannah told herself as she made her way to her tent for the last time out on the trail. Her life would be much more tranquil when Ethan Reed was no longer a part of it.

  Ethan felt a pang of regret as the Destiny came into sight around noon the next day. He didn’t know what impulse had made him choose this site for the Philadelphia settlers. It was one of his favorite spots on the whole Ohio, which he had explored all the way down to its meeting with that other mighty western high-way, the Mississippi. It had always seemed to him that the land around the Destiny was special—the fields richer, the hills bluer, the trees more noble. It had even occurred to him that if the time ever came someday for him to want his own little cabin to return to through the long winters, he would build it on the banks of the Destiny.

  Now there would be people here ahead of him— thanks to his own planning. At least it would help to think of Hannah making a life for herself here in a place he loved. He was having a hard time shaking the hold she had placed on his head. On his body, too, for that matter, and, if he was being honest, he might as well throw his heart into the formula.

  Everything about her captivated him. Her voice, the way she moved, the little thrust of her lower lip when she was tackling a new problem. She handled the four children as if she’d been a mother for years. Every night when Eliza’s years showed in the tired hunch of her back and Nancy’s weakness forced her to rest, it was Hannah who took charge, assigning the tasks of setting up camp, planning the night’s sleeping arrangements, organizing the supper. All without a cross word for anyone, even Hugh Trask, whose lewd glances and suggestive remarks sometimes made Ethan want to shove his face into a tree trunk.

  Randolph was getting himself a prize, he thought darkly. She could even shoot a gun, and she was stronger than most women, in spite of her slender, long body. He knew exactly how strong. The vivid, erotic memories of the night they had spent together came often and hard. Sometimes at the worst moments. Like now, as he watched her help unload her boat at the mouth of the river. The flatboats would not go up current, so they would have to use the animals to take the supplies to the final site they chose for their settlement.

  He watched the long curve of her back as she strained to lift crates many men would be loath to try. Willing his unruly body to calm its unwelcome arousal, he stepped off the Trask boat and walked back to the Websters’.

  “Don’t hurt yourself,” he warned her, taking the other side of a trunk she was struggling to lift.

  “I won’t.” Her smile was pure sunshine, without any of the reservation he had seen in her eyes since their night together. It made his heart soar.

  “So what do you think of Destiny River?” he asked, his mood matching hers.

  “It’s beautiful. It’s everything you said.” She stopped lifting for a moment to gaze at a row of ash trees blowing in the light wind. In the distance behind them, gentle hills made a graceful silhouette against the blue summer sky.

  “There’s a place about a mile up at the edge of a rich meadow that would be perfect for building cabins. I’ve camped there myself.”

  They moved down the gangplank with the heavy trunk, Ethan walking backward. “Thank you for helping,” Hannah said, meaning with the trunk, but then she broadened the statement. “Thank you for leading us to this place. Thank you for everything.”

  Ethan couldn’t resist the urge. He leaned close to her and asked, “For everything?”

  She met his gaze, refusing to be daunted. “Aye. For everything.” She dropped her end of the trunk, making him stumble forward, then she gave him a bright smile and waltzed away.

  Ethan had agreed to stay for a couple of weeks to help with the cabins. Everyone in the group except for little Wally and Nancy, who was having trouble regaining her strength, worked from dawn to sunset trying to establish their foothold on the wilderness. They chose the site Ethan had mentioned where a broad meadow stretched out for half a mile from the banks of the river to the hills behind. The open area would mean that they would not have to clear land for the houses and the crops, but even so, the work was backbreaking.

  Trask and Seth were in charge of breaking up enough of the meadowland to plant a small crop. By next year they would have their farms fully organized, but this year they would have only the essentials. Near the riverbank where they had discovered a dark, loamy soil, they would plant the burlap-wrapped seedlings of peach and apple trees they had brought from Fort Pitt. Hannah herself walked up and down the rows Seth and Trask had dug, carefully depositing the precious plants. There would be no fruit for some years yet, but it gave her a little thrill to think that the tiny trees would grow along with their settlement, each year sturdier and more prosperous.

  Randolph and Ethan were in charge of dismantling the boats and transporting the lumber upstream, dragging it behind the horses in trip after endless trip. The long-hewn boards would make stout frames for the little homes they would build.

  Hannah, Eliza and the children helped wherever they were needed, though Eliza tired quickly in the hot summer sun.

  “I’m not as strong as I thought I could be,” she confessed to Hannah one day as they rested along the bank.

  “You’re more than doing your part,” Hannah assured her. “Just think what Nancy would have done without you and your nursing.”

  Eliza shook her head sadly. “It’s not the same as when Seth and I started the brickyard thirty years ago. We had so much energy and enthusiasm….” Her voice trailed off.

  “You’re both working very hard,” Hannah said firmly. “You have nothing to feel bad about.”

  “It’s not that we don’t like it here…it’s a beautiful place. If only Johnny were here to help out his father, we’d be so happy.”

  Tears filled her soft eyes. Hannah put an arm around her shoulders. “Just give it time, Eliza. It’s like everything else. Everything gets better with time.”

  Hannah herself was feeling the effects of the hard work. Each day her troublesome back ached more from all the unloading and carrying and dragging. She tried to cover up her discomfort, but she had seen Ethan watching her as if he could see through her pretensions.

  A week after their arrival at their new home, the pain was more than just a bother. They were still using the tents they had used on the trail, and she made an effort not to awaken Peggy and Jacob as she tossed restlessly, trying to find a comfortable position. Finally she gave up and crawled out of the tent. As usual, Ethan was still awake, sitting alone by the camp fire.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked her softly.

  Hannah walked over to the fire, surreptitiously stretching out her back. “It’s all the excitement, I suppose.”

  “Or that back of yours that you’ve been nursing all week long,” he said dryly.

  She didn’t answer, but sat down at the fire across from him. “It is your back, isn’t it?” he persisted.

  She shrugged. “It’s a problem I’ve had since I was a girl. It gives me trouble every now and then. I’m used to it.”

  Ethan gave a snort of disgust. “It would give you less trouble if you didn’t insist on hauling around the heaviest loads available as if you were working the London docks.”

  Hannah smiled. “You’re the one who talks about how important it is to
work hard on the frontier.”

  “Work hard, not kill yourself.”

  “I’ll be all right.” She stared into the fire.

  “Doesn’t Eliza have any willow tea left?”

  “I think we used it all for Nancy. Don’t worry about it. It’s just a nuisance, that’s all.”

  Ethan gave a sigh, then stood up and disappeared into the darkness. In moments he was back, holding up a small round jar. “Liniment,” he explained.

  Hannah looked at the jar in surprise. “Oh. Thank you. Er…tomorrow I’ll ask Eliza to help me put some on.”

  “And in the meantime you’ll stay awake all night with the pain,” he said dryly. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense, now does it?”

  The words had suddenly fled her throat. She shook her head.

  “I’ll put it on you,” he said. His voice was very even, detached.

  She swallowed to put some moisture back into her mouth. “But I don’t see how…”

  He gave an impatient wave of his hand. “Use some common sense, girl. There’s no reason for you to suffer just because you don’t want me to catch a glimpse of something that I’ve already given what, I assure you, was a thorough study.”

  Hannah’s face flamed. “It wouldn’t be proper…”

  Before she could frame her answer, he seized her hand and pulled her after him toward the riverbank. “We’ll go over here where it’s dark,” he said, then added mockingly, “to protect your sensibilities.”

  Hannah looked back at the sleeping camp. There was no sound from any of the tents. It was well past midnight. Perhaps Ethan was right. If the lotion could relieve some of the pain, she’d be able to get some sleep for another busy day of work. He stood beside her, waiting.

  “Just give me a minute,” she said, ducking into a clump of bushes. With fingers grown icy, she unlaced the bodice that she wore over a cotton shift that tucked underneath her full skirt. Carefully she put the bodice to one side and pulled the shift up around her waist. She was still decently covered from neck to ankle. Ethan would just have to reach under her shift to apply the liniment. That wouldn’t be so bad. She stepped out of the bushes.

  Ethan had known from the minute he had seen Hannah crawling out of her tent that he was going to make a mistake. It was as if all the good intentions he had mustered and resolutions he had formed throughout the past few weeks had exploded in one heart-stopping second. From then on the results had been inevitable. The liniment was just fate giving him a hand.

  He motioned for her to sit at a place where moss covered the sloping bank. She sank to the ground and turned her back to him, timidly reaching behind her to lift the hem of her shift. “Just the upper part of my back would be fine, down to the waist,” she stipulated carefully.

  Ethan grinned and dropped down behind her. He set the jar aside for a moment and gripped her shoulders over the thin cotton. “You’ll have to relax if this is going to work,” he said in the same even tone.

  His hands felt miraculous on her tightened neck and back. Involuntarily she moaned as his big hands gently manipulated her, his thumbs pushing upward with just the right amount of pressure. “I think I’m relaxing,” she said with a nervous little laugh.

  “Good.” His hands moved along her side and down to her waist, massaging gently on top of her shift.

  “When are you going to put the liniment on?” she asked. The strange melting had begun again inside her, and all at once she didn’t know if it was a very good idea to be once again alone with Ethan in the middle of the night. In fact, she decided as his hands never stopped moving, she could be pretty sure that it was not a good idea.

  “Just lie on the bank, facedown,” he ordered. He lifted gently under her arms and helped her to spread out on the mossy grass. Her body followed his lead, as though it were entirely detached from her head.

  Then he pulled up her shift and she felt the cool night air on her bare back. “I need to loosen your skirt and petticoats so I can reach your waist,” he said smoothly.

  His hands skillfully undid the fastenings at her waist. Hannah made no protest.

  Ethan was trying to keep his senses leashed, but as the moonlight shone on her bare skin—the hollows just below her waist and the beginning of the round swell of her neat little rear—he felt the first surge of urgency in the lower portion of his body. He didn’t even bother to argue with himself that he was acting disgracefully, that Hannah was as good as engaged to a fine, decent man who would make her a wonderful husband. The argument was already lost.

  He covered his fingers with the oily cream. It smelled faintly of pine. He did not want to startle her, so he reached first well up underneath her shift to the top part of her back. Making small, rhythmic circles he worked his way down to her waist, then below, to that soft white skin he was itching to touch. Hannah gave a little jump when he touched her there. He moved upward again, kneading her waist, then stroking outward toward her sides, almost reaching the tender outer skin of her breasts.

  Hannah had never felt anything so sensual. Without kisses, without love words, Ethan was seducing her. And she wanted nothing more than to be seduced. Her back pain had disappeared, only to be replaced by a more demanding, spectacular ache right through the center of her body. She was still inexperienced, but in one night Ethan had instructed her well enough to know exactly what that ache meant and how to relieve it.

  Passive and dreamy, she let him pull her shift over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up. His massage of her back continued until she felt the slight tingle of the liniment all over her skin. Then his fingers reached lower and covered her bottom, stroking gently, methodically.

  Suddenly he turned her around and lifted her in his arms. His mouth sought hers in a desperate mating, hot and hungry. “I need you, Hannah,” he whispered.

  Her bare breasts swelled under his fingertips. She moaned and arched her back. In one swift movement he swept off the rest of her garments. She lay naked against his fully clothed body.

  Ethan had always prided himself on his control. It pleased him to be able to make a woman delirious with desire before he himself took his pleasure. But for the first time he wasn’t sure if he could wait. Not even long enough to remove his clothes. Hannah’s round bottom moved against his stiff arousal and she gave a little whimper. Without conscious thought, he tore open his pants and lifted her hips to position her over him. She clutched at his shoulders and fastened her lips on his neck as he carefully entered her. All the feeling in his body seemed to drain into his loins as they moved together, exquisitely slow at first and then in an increasing frenzy that ended in total oblivion.

  Little by little the world came back into focus around them. Still joined, he pulled her closer in his arms. He kissed her hair, then her forehead, her eyes, her lips. “How’s your back?” he muttered.

  Hannah gave a helpless laugh. She had not said a word, not made a move to stop him. Though she had abandoned coherent thought some time ago, she was fairly certain that she had had no desire to stop him. She was her mother’s daughter all right. And with her mother’s taste in men, evidently, since she, too, had chosen to fall in love with a man who would disappear once the lovemaking was over. But that didn’t mean that she had to throw away the rest of her life the way her mother had.

  Calmness seeped back into her bones and coolness into her damp skin. Slowly she pushed herself away from him and stretched to retrieve her abandoned shift. “I do believe my back is cured, Captain Reed,” she said, with as much dignity as she could muster in her totally naked condition. “Thank you.”

  He let her go. If her voice hadn’t been so aloof he would have pulled her back into his arms. Instead he just watched in some confusion as she gathered her clothes and walked behind the bushes to get dressed. She hadn’t ranted at him as she had every right to do. The euphoria of just a few minutes ago dissipated as he fastened up his trousers, feeling like a randy schoolboy who’d been caught behind the corncrib.

  She hadn’
t ranted at him, but she hadn’t smiled, either. As he stood and stared out at the tranquil Destiny, he realized that he’d give half his soul right now if she would just do either one.

  * * *

  Far from feeling guilty over giving in to her feelings with Ethan, Hannah felt that their passionate encounter had somehow liberated her. She had admitted to herself that she had all the sexual desires that her mother had warned her about, and she had decided that she was still the same person and, most important, that she was still in control of her own future. And her best chance for that future lay with Randolph Webster and his children. Even Ethan had conceded that fact.

  And every day she was more certain that Randolph intended to make her his wife. He saw to her every need and was rarely far from her side. He was building their cabin with a loft for the children and two separate bedrooms for the two of them, but he had explained with some embarrassment that soon Peggy would want her own bedroom, and perhaps by that time Hannah would be ready to move.

  She briefly debated over whether it would be necessary someday to tell Randolph that she had been intimate with Ethan. But she concluded that very few female indentured servants ended up intact by the end of their ordeal. Randolph could think what he wished of her past experiences. He was too much of a gentleman to inquire.

  He did seem increasingly hostile toward Ethan, as though he sensed that there was something between them. When a day after their middle-of-the-night meeting Ethan had inquired a little too politely about her back, hoping no doubt to rile her, Randolph had flashed him an angry look. Then he had turned on her. If she was hurt, he’d insisted, she should be telling him about it, not some hired hand. After his initial flare of anger, he had apologized for his abrupt manner and had insisted that she should lift absolutely nothing until she felt better. For the next week if she had so much as a sack of cornmeal in her hands, it was plucked from her with a gentle scolding.

  Ethan stayed out of her way, working hard as the first crude structures of the cabins started to take place. Once the three frames were up, he would be leaving. And Hannah awaited the day with a mixture of impatience and sadness. As she watched his brawny form working on the cabins, listened to his ready laugh and smiled at his tall tales by the camp fire, she realized that she might never in her lifetime meet anyone quite like him. She also might never again feel what she had felt in two short nights with him. But she would work side by side with Randolph in this beautiful new land. She would build a home for him and his family. And only during the long winter nights when her family was tucked safely and snugly in their little cabin, would she close her eyes and let herself remember.