by Gigi Moore
Heck, he’d only made the particular trip into town because Lily had made a special request and he was hard put to deny her anything, especially now. She’d wanted to show her support for Maia’s and Sabrina’s new venture and, like everyone else in town including him, she was curious about what exactly “healing magick” meant.
Wyatt knew he should have had more faith in Lily’s abilities to take care of herself. She had never been a shrinking violet, and her parents had raised her to be self-sufficient. Aside from her mother and father instructing her in the basics of maintaining a home and farm, her father had taught Lily and her mother how to use a gun and rifle. Lily was a crack shot, fairly putting him and other cowboys to shame. Before the abduction, he had no reservations about leaving her to her own devices. Whenever she did accompany him into town it was because he wanted and enjoyed her company, not just because he feared for her safety or didn’t trust her to be alone.
“You didn’t need to be so rude to Maia and Rebel,” Lily said.
Wyatt glanced at her from the corner of his eyes as he jerked on the horse and buggy reins and clucked his tongue. The carriage took off with a little jolt as the horse trotted forward and Wyatt’s heart stuttered at the hint of his wife’s spirit. That was the woman he used to know and loved. So many times in the last several months he’d wondered where she had gone. He’d wondered what those savages had done to filch her fire.
Five years ago he would have thought nothing of Lily wanting to work. He had been proud of her accomplishments as a teacher and her ability to stand by his side and work with him in the field. He encouraged her independence. Since the abduction, all that had changed. He’d become an overprotective mother hen. He knew it was wrong to mollycoddle her so. He knew it was even worse for their marriage, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. It was as if he was possessed with the idea of cosseting her in a shell to which only he had access. He’d allow nothing or no one else in that could harm her.
Wyatt couldn’t bear the thought of losing her again.
The day of the abduction had been the only day he could remember her complaining of an illness that kept her from working their farm and going into town with him. Even when she suffered from the symptoms of her monthly she soldiered on, taking enough laudanum to kill the pain without knocking her out for the count.
Wyatt had relived that day over and over again in his mind, chiding himself for leaving her alone, doubting his judgment, and wondering if things would have been different had he stayed behind and pampered her despite her insistence that she would be okay alone.
How he wished he could turn back the clock so that day had never happened.
“I wasn’t being rude. I was just stating the particulars.”
Like he’d told Maia, Lily didn’t need a job, not as long as he was alive and kicking. He appreciated the woman’s concern and grudgingly respected her grit, but he didn’t need her or that Rebel woman to tell him how to take care of his wife.
“They were only trying to help.”
Wyatt turned briefly to look at Lily and she returned his look, her striking gray eyes burning and her high cheeks flushed.
“Are you mad at me for speaking up or upset that I caught you?”
“You make it sound like I was up to no good, Wyatt. I was simply thinking about taking on a job. That’s all. I wasn’t plotting to leave you after all.”
“Whoa!” Wyatt jerked on the reins and brought the buggy to an abrupt stop right on the edge of town. He turned in his seat to face Lily full. “Where did that come from?”
“Nowhere.” Lily shrugged, turning to face front, her cheeks reddening even more.
Was that guilt?
“Lily?” Wyatt dropped the reins and put his pointer under her cleft chin to turn her face back to him. “Are you thinking of leaving me?”
“Of course not! I just…I need…”
Tell me, woman. Tell me what you need!
He couldn’t get the words past his lips, however. He didn’t want to force her. He didn’t want to put her through any more after all that she had already been through. “You need?”
“I need to be needed again. I need you to…”
His heart pounded as she paused. He wondered what all she held back, what all she wouldn’t allow herself to say.
They used to be able to talk to each other. At least he had thought so. Not that he had ever been all that chatty back then. Lily was the one who did all the talking between them and he was the one who liked listening to her musical voice as she discussed her days at the school and how she loved shaping the future and learning from her students as she taught them. He’d liked basking in the glow of her cheerfulness. No one could brighten up a room like his Lilybelle. That light, however, had been extinguished by those savages, a mere flicker of her shine remaining.
“I need you to treat me like you used to,” Lily murmured.
Wyatt arched a brow. He thought he was treating her better than he used to. He was certainly paying closer attention to her, pampering her when he could, and not allowing her to lift a finger around the farm.
She cleared her throat and stared at him. “I need you to treat me like a wife, Wyatt.”
As opposed to what? A whore?
Suddenly it hit him what she meant. His eyes widened. “Lily—”
“Never mind. Just forget I said anything.” She reached for the reins. “Let’s go.”
He closed his hand over hers. “Not yet.”
“It’s not important. You’re a good husband, Wyatt, a decent man. Don’t think I meant any different by what I said.”
“I reckon if you’re unhappy, I can’t be all that good.” He stared at her, and when she didn’t say anything he added, “I’m not good with words, Lily, but you must know I love you.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to…you know…” He felt his own cheeks heating at the idea of their marriage bed and how he’d been avoiding it since Lily had returned.
Was Lily suggesting she was ready for them to take up their conjugal activities again?
“I’m not dead.”
“I know that, Lily.”
“Are you sure?”
“You’re my wife.” Wyatt gently took the reins from her hands and clucked at the horse again to get him going.
The rest of the ride to their homestead went by in edgy silence.
Several times, Wyatt wanted to break it, to assure Lily that he understood what she was going through, but he knew he’d be lying if he did. He didn’t understand what she was going through or how she was feeling. How could he? He’d never been at the mercy of a bunch of hostiles, beholden to them for his survival. And then having to return home only to discover that both her parents were dead? Despite having lost both his own parents years ago to a cholera outbreak, how could he know how Lily felt at all?
For some reason it had never occurred to him before this moment that they were all each other had in the world. He didn’t want her to be with him, however, because she had to be. He wanted her to be with him because she wanted to be. He’d love it if she wanted to be with him because she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in the world but him. He certainly couldn’t imagine loving another woman as much as he loved Lily. Neither could he imagine starting a family with another woman other than Lily.
Before the attack, they’d often talked about having children and he had been looking forward to raising little ones with his Lilybelle. He wondered now how she felt about that. He wondered if that tribe of Kiowas had done something to her in that regard, something that would stop her from having babies.
She wouldn’t talk much about what exactly had happened to her or how she had wound up with the tribe she had wound up with. She only assured him that they had not mistreated her. He reckoned his idea of mistreatment and the Kiowas’ were two different things, though.
Once home, Wyatt jumped down from the carriage and reached up his hands for Lily. When she put her han
ds on his shoulders to brace herself, his hands automatically slid around her slim waist, holding firm as he lifted her out of the carriage and lowered her to the ground. Such a simple, routine act, yet it left him shaken, his fingers tingling with the need to do so much more, tingling with the desire to freely roam her body like a husband’s would.
Once her feet were on solid soil, however, he didn’t release her. He took great pleasure in the feel of her close to him, in the familiar clean lavender scent of her skin wafting up to him.
For an instant, everything fell away—the past, their loss, and differences—everything but the present, the moment. He could almost convince himself that she was the same Lily from five years ago and the shudder that rode through her body just now wasn’t from revulsion but pleasure at being near her husband, and being touched by him.
Wyatt used to think he knew his wife as well as he knew himself. He hadn’t, however, been able to read Lily since she’d returned home.
“Wyatt…”
He shook himself at her quiet, timid voice, realizing how fragile she still was and that she probably wasn’t as ready as she thought herself to resume physical relations. “I reckon we’d better get inside.”
“I reckon.”
He looked down into her face, taking pleasure in the unlined purity of her creamy skin. He took in the familiar gray eyes that regarded him so intently, as always enjoying her directness. When she didn’t make a move to take her hands from his shoulders, Wyatt took it to mean that she liked where her hands were. He didn’t make a move to take his hands from her waist because he definitely liked where they were.
“Are you all right, Wyatt?”
“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“You’re staring at me.”
“I like looking at my wife. Is there something wrong with that?” He watched as her eyes widened as if she was shocked at his words.
Was it possible he hadn’t been letting her know how much she meant to him since her return? Did she not know how he felt about her?
“I thought you might not want me anymore.”
“Might not want you?”
She lowered her head, but he still caught the flush in her cheeks, even in the waning light. “After the Kiowas and…” She shook her head before raising it to meet his gaze again. “I just thought you might think I wasn’t…”
“You’re my wife,” he said again.
“I’m different now.”
He grasped her around the shoulders. “I asked you before if those savages did anything to you, Lily. Did they?”
“Wyatt, you’re hurting me.”
He released her as if she was on fire, gaping as he took two steps back.
Lily choked back a sob, covered her mouth with her hand, and shook her head as she pushed by him to run into the house.
“Lily!” Wyatt ran after her, catching up as she reached their bedroom. He caught her by the arm, taking special care not to hold her too tightly, but holding firm enough to keep her from running again. “I’m sorry for being rough with you, sweetie.” He watched her eyes widen again as if the term of endearment was something she hadn’t ever heard, or hadn’t heard in a very long time. Wyatt swallowed at the sharp stab of guilt to his heart.
“I shouldn’t have said that. I was shocked more than hurt. You…you scared me.”
“I didn’t mean to.” He let her go once he satisfied himself that she wouldn’t try to get away from him again. Besides, he was blocking the door and he wasn’t letting her by him a second time. It was high time they talked about what was going on between them.
Lily turned to him, placing a hand on his cheek, and Wyatt had a moment of self-consciousness that he hadn’t taken the time to shave since a couple of days ago. Lily said she liked a little bit of stubble on his face, but Wyatt didn’t want to start looking like the old miners, mountain men, and even some of the cowboys who frequented Elk Creek’s saloons and whorehouses after a cattle drive. Lily often assured him he could never look like them, but he liked to stay as smooth as possible to keep from scraping her delicate skin when they cuddled.
And how long has it been since you’ve done that with your Lilybelle?
The question piled on the burden of fault.
Wyatt put his hand over hers and closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of her hand on him, realizing that he had been depriving them both of this closeness since she’d been back. He couldn’t understand why he had until he remembered what had started their row in the first place. He opened his eyes to peer at Lily. “What did they do to you?”
She drew back in a huff, folding her arms across her breasts as if to protect herself from him. Or maybe it was the truth she was protecting herself from, the truth she wouldn’t tell him.
“What, Lilybelle?”
“I told you. They weren’t the ones who hurt me. One of the tribe members found me out in the woods and took me to his people to help me heal after…after I was attacked.”
“How are you so sure he wasn’t the one to hurt you in the first place? You said you never saw the man who found and took you to the Kiowas.” Her account just didn’t make any sense, and if he didn’t know better he’d think she was lying to him. The idea rankled him.
Wyatt watched as his wife wrung her hands and looked at him pleadingly.
He wished he could save her, but he didn’t know how and blurted out the only thing that came to mind. “You were gone five years, Lily. If they were so good to you, why couldn’t they see their way clear to bringing you home to your people? What happened?”
She speared him with an accusatory look that made him think twice about what he had asked. He honestly didn’t think he had said anything wrong, but before he had a chance to think further, Lily murmured, “I told you what happened.”
Tarnation, what are you hiding, Lily?
The urge to shake her was strong and he balled his hands at his sides in frustration.
“Are you protecting them for some reason?”
“They took care of me, Wyatt. They’re good people who took me in when I needed them most and there’s nothing else to it.”
Except that Wyatt thought she was a mite touchy about the whole subject, especially whenever he got even a little close to criticizing her precious Kiowas in any way.
“I just don’t see what makes these hostiles better or different than any other.”
“All Indians aren’t hostiles or savages.”
Wyatt used to believe this once before he and several other cowboys had been attacked by Comanches during a cattle drive on the Western Trail through Fort Griffith. Before this he’d heard stories about how some trails were more dangerous than others, leaving cattle drives vulnerable to Indian attacks. A couple of older cowboys with whom he had been acquainted as a boy had lost their lives during such an attack on the Goodnight-Loving Trail.
Before these incidents, he had considered himself a fair man and a good judge of character, but after his experiences on the trail and finally the attack on Lily, he didn’t think he could ever trust an Indian again—hostile or not.
Some in the territory had an even dimmer view of Indians and the Indian situation than him. They believed the only good Indian was a dead Indian and that the government was too soft on the savages with their peace treaties and whatnot. Wyatt hadn’t gotten that far…yet.
“How can you defend them?”
“They saved my life,” Lily murmured.
“And after?”
“After?”
“Did they keep you from coming home? Did they keep you prisoner before their tribe was raided and massacred?”
“I wasn’t a prisoner.”
“Then why didn’t you come home?” At her silence, Wyatt moved closer, catching her by the shoulders again. “Didn’t you want to come home, Lily?”
“More than anything.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d want me back.”
The agony in her voice made his he
art stutter. Wouldn’t want her back? What on God’s green earth could keep him from…
Wyatt gritted his teeth. “They did do something to you, didn’t they? Was it the one who ‘saved’ you?” He didn’t realize how harsh and accusatory his tone sounded until he saw Lily sneer at him right before she broke away from his grip.
She took several steps away from him, looking horrified and insulted all at once.
He guessed she had every reason to be both, but he couldn’t help himself. If that savage had laid a hand on his wife, Wyatt couldn’t be held responsible for his actions.
“It wasn’t him that did…what you’re thinking.”
Wyatt closed his eyes. The idea of any man’s hands on Lily, touching her with the intimacy that was reserved for only his hands, made him sick to the stomach…and strangely hard, very hard. He closed his eyes and saw the other man, Lily’s “savior,” picking her up, holding her close, and rescuing her. His cock twitched at the vision.
Wyatt’s eyes flew open and his confusion, lust, and revulsion must have showed on his face, as he caught Lily retreat even more. Usually he had the consummate poker face and was good at hiding his emotions, too good to hear Lily tell it. Evidently, he wasn’t good enough to hide his feelings about sharing her with another man. He couldn’t hide how turned on and repulsed he was at that idea.
His relationship with Lily had never been under fire like this before. Their marriage had never been in this sort of flux or turmoil. True, they’d barely been married a year when Lily was taken, but they’d had their differences here and there.
Wyatt didn’t know how to feel about the third party that had suddenly taken up residence between him and his wife, however. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do next. The indecisiveness made him feel weak and helpless. He didn’t like feeling that way, especially not with the woman he had sworn to protect and care for “till death do us part.”
