His body moved with a sigh. “Me, too.” He gazed down at her, his eyes strained with worry. “Do you still want to come to the barn?”
“Yes,” she answered, needing to be with him, needing to see what was left of their farm.
Ushering Sarah by the elbow, Briggs pulled the door open and stepped outside. He raised his arm to shield their faces from the pesky creatures. A pink haze colored the horizon but barely lit the sky as their feet crunched over the ground. Millions of grasshoppers surrounded them, flitting about and feeding hungrily on anything they could find.
Sarah and Briggs reached the barn and quickly entered. The animals were restless, crying and complaining. A number of grasshoppers had infested the tiny structure.
Briggs lit the lantern and the room brightened. “Good God,” he said, his voice a pale whisper. Sarah’s mouth dropped open in shock.
The locusts had been everywhere, devouring, consuming. The wooden handle of a hoe that stood by the door had been chewed where Brigg’s sweat had soaked in. The worn parts of the harness were badly eaten, and the creatures were still feasting on it. Ropes were cut through and in pieces. An old straw hat which had been left hanging on a post by Maddie’s stall was in shreds.
Two insects simultaneously beat against Sarah’s face. She waved them away while Briggs stood staring at the stalls, astonished. The pests were eating the hay. They were crawling around on the horses’ backs and scooting through their long manes.
He went to the harness to examine it more closely. Sarah followed. “Can we save it?”
“I think so, but we better take it inside the house.” He placed it in her arms. “Is it too heavy for you?”
It was heavier than she expected, but not unmanageable. “I’ll be fine.”
“Why don’t you go inside?” He looked around the barn, the frustration evident in his weary eyes. “I’ll milk Maddie, then check the crops, but it’s not looking good.”
Sarah nodded in anguish and left the barn. She walked back to the house with the harness, squinting through the swarm and feeling her hopes sinking fast. She had come here with a dream of a rewarding farm life, but it seemed that dream would not be granted so easily.
She only hoped, that after all this devastation, Briggs wouldn’t decide to pack it in. And pack her off at the same time.
Chapter Thirteen
The unwelcome visitors stayed two more days, feasting on the helpless homestead. Each night, Briggs slept on the floor of the dugout with Shadow, and Sarah slept uneasily in the bed. Several times she started from her pillow, dreaming that the locusts had invaded her bed. Then she would discover that the little sod house had kept its promise of shelter. It had forbidden entry to almost all the enemy insects.
On the third day, Sarah and Briggs woke with little hope that the grasshoppers would ever leave, but as soon as the sun rose in the sky, the wind shifted. By noon, the swarm departed as quickly as it had come, leaving nothing but shredded corn stalks and bare fields where wheat had once blown in the wind, like waves on the ocean.
Nothing had survived in the vegetable garden either, the dry soil strewn with dead grasshoppers. The water in the barrels looked like grasshopper soup and probably tasted worse. Briggs hauled the barrels to the garden and tipped them over, watering the soil and assuring Sarah that the locusts would make good fertilizer for the new crop he’d plant.
That evening, they sat in silence over a dinner of corn meal pancakes and sorghum molasses, trying not to think about how they would survive the winter without the profits from the harvest. Sarah just wanted to forget everything for the night and pray that she would someday feel hopeful again.
“What do you think the creek looks like?” she asked, trying to keep her hopes from fading completely.
Briggs sipped his coffee, which was the only thing fit to drink that didn’t taste like grasshoppers. They needed to keep the milk for making butter to sell, though they wouldn’t get much for it. “I don’t know. I haven’t gone down there yet. Why?”
She sighed. “I’d love to take a bath.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
“You were?”
He nodded. “Why don’t we walk over after supper?”
They finished eating within minutes, and Sarah cleaned off the table. She untied her apron and draped it over the chair. “Are you ready?”
“I’ve been ready for three days.”
Sharing a much needed chuckle, they climbed the steps and opened the door. Magenta light struck Sarah in the face as she turned toward the sunset, which seemed to smile at her with bright, swirling clouds.
“Ah,” Briggs sighed, stopping just outside the house. “Do you feel that?” Eyes closed, he breathed in the warm, clear evening breeze.
“It’s like heaven.” Sarah took in another breath of air like a thirst-quenching drink. Then she noticed Briggs staring toward what had once been the wheat field.
She reached out and closed her hand around his. His warmth traveled to her fingers and up her arm, all the way to her heart. She felt his grip tighten ever so gently. For an instant they were connected in some intangible way, communicating, feeling the same disconcerted emotions and knowing it.
Sarah felt a brief joy in the shared moment, then led Briggs forward. They’d come out here to celebrate their freedom from the locusts, not to mourn what they’d lost. “Let’s go see how the creek looks.”
They walked across the field, through the dead grass and the leafless stubs of corn, saying nothing. By the time they reached the creek, the rolling plains had swallowed the sun. The sky was a deep shade of royal blue—that rare color that remains only a few moments before the day surrenders to night.
“It looks pretty clear,” Briggs said, his voice fringed with surprise as he looked down at the water. It was flowing slowly downstream, gurgling in shallow places, swirling silently in deeper ones.
“Thank goodness.”
Sarah barely had a chance to blink before Briggs tossed his jacket over a leafless shrub. He pulled his loose white shirt over his head, then hopped to keep his balance while he pulled off a boot. “Look away if you have to, ’cause I’m in no mood to worry about your delicate sensibilities. That water looks too inviting.”
He dropped both boots onto the ground and reached hurriedly to unfasten his denim trousers. Stunned and wide-eyed, Sarah watched him step out of his pants. The darkness dulled any image of him, and she wasn’t certain if the knots in her belly were tightening because she was thankful or disappointed.
The next instant, a tremendous splash cut through the quiet dusk.
“Aaaah!” he called out as he resurfaced. Brisk waves splashed onto the bank, forcing Sarah back.
Briggs flicked his wet hair, shooting bullets of water upward to the sky. “Come on in. It feels great.”
He was treading water, watching and waiting for her to undress.
Stalling for a moment, Sarah unbuttoned her bodice, but then hesitated, holding it closed. Hot nerves knotted tightly in her stomach. She’d never undressed like this in front of a man before.
Briggs did a backstroke away from her, but kept his eyes fixed.
Embarrassed at having to ask, but even more afraid of what would happen if she didn’t, she met his gaze. “Would you mind looking away?” She felt her cheeks suddenly flame red and hated them for it.
Briggs stopped swimming. For a moment, he seemed to hold back a response, then came the reply. “Yeah, I would mind. And don’t look so shocked. We’re married, aren’t we?”
His tone was playful, which relaxed her a bit, but not entirely.
“Fine,” she said, trying not to sound apprehensive. She pulled her bodice off her shoulders, deciding then and there that she would swim in her chemise and drawers. They needed laundering anyway and wash day wasn’t until Friday.
Feeling self-conscious under her husband’s steady gaze, she stepped out of her skirt and draped it neatly atop his coat. Next she unhooked her corset, tossed it
onto the ground, and unlaced and removed her boots.
In a hurry to hide within the water’s dark shelter, she waded in to her waist, then gently dove under. Cool freshness enveloped her. The muffled din of water in her ears blocked out everything else. She felt all her problems rinsing away….
Upward she came, in a speedy flight. Shattering the silence, she broke through the surface and sucked the clean air into her lungs. Satin droplets tickled her face and neck. “Ahh.”
“Feels great, doesn’t it? I could stay in here forever.”
They swam around each other a while, enjoying the silence.
“What are we going to do?” Sarah asked, after they’d had a chance to enjoy the moment.
Briggs pushed his wet hair back from his face. “I can plant fall wheat, but that won’t do us any good until we harvest it in November, and it won’t be enough to keep us in provisions all winter.”
“Is there nothing else we can do?”
He swam closer. “I’ve been thinking about that….”
His hesitation raised Sarah’s doubts.
“I could find work in Nebraska for harvest season, assuming they haven’t been hit by locusts. I could wire my pay back here and—”
“And leave me behind?” Sarah broke in sharply.
“It would only be for a few months.”
“A few months! No. Absolutely not.”
She would have thought her outburst would displease him. After all, who was she to decide what should be done? Oddly enough, a twinkle of moonlight reflected in his eyes and revealed a trace of delight.
Delight?
Watching him, Sarah dropped deeper into the water until it touched her ears.
“We’ll need the money for winter supplies and food,” he said. “We don’t even have any blankets and it gets plumb frigid out here in February.”
Sarah wanted to sink beneath the surface and drift aimlessly through the water’s blackness. She didn’t want to think about Briggs leaving her alone.
“Sarah?” He swam a little closer.
“Could I go with you?”
He tilted his head to the side, his expression apologetic. “No. I’d be sleeping in a bunkhouse, most likely. Besides, you’d have to take care of things here.”
The thought had barely settled in her mind before she realized what it meant. She would miss him. She would long for him.
She watched him dive below, then almost immediately re-surface and throw his hair back. “I don’t want you to go,” she said, matter-of-factly.
He paused, his green eyes brimming with wonder. “I don’t see any other solution.”
Maybe it was affection, maybe it was desperation, but whatever it was, it found an answer. “I know one. I’ll sell my pearls.”
Briggs frowned at her. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not? I don’t need them out here. I’d rather do without them, than do without you. Will you just think about it?”
He swam closer. “No, you won’t be selling them. I won’t let you. You deserve to have something fine.”
But I do have something fine.
They gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment, then Briggs set his feet on the creek bottom and touched her cheek. His fingers wandered to her earlobe. Gooseflesh moved down her body as he played with the hair above her ear.
“Even with everything that’s happened, I feel lucky tonight.” His strong arms came around her, and she felt the evidence of his arousal. Something tingled in the pit of her stomach. She remembered how he had touched her on their wedding night and realized she desperately wanted to feel him loving her that way again. To be held in his arms. Had he forgiven her at last? she wondered hopefully, shivering when his lips touched hers.
Her feet, rooted to the soft, muddy creek bottom, suddenly lifted. She squeezed his broad shoulders while he guided her legs to straddle him.
In his arms, she felt as light as a leaf floating in the water. She wasn’t sure what to do next, so she followed her instincts and locked her ankles together around his waist.
There in his embrace, she felt secure and safe from everything. She let her cheek rest on his shoulder. Droplets of water tickled her skin, sending waves of commotion through her veins. A delicate thread of intimacy was taking shape between them, and she feared if she let him go, it would snap and transport them back to the beginning.
And more than anything, she wanted to go forward.
“Sarah,” he whispered, leaving a trail of kisses across her face. He kissed her nose, her eyelids, then covered her mouth with his. She squeezed her legs around him as their lips met. Was this truly happening?
He spun them slowly through the water, his hands grazing up and down her back. Sarah cupped his strong, stubbly jaw and deepened their kiss, not knowing how long this would last, but wanting to enjoy it for as long as it did.
His breathing intensified, his hand moved quickly to unfasten the tiny buttons of her chemise. The soft contact made her gasp—it was all happening so fast.
He pulled back. “Do you want this or no?”
“I do.”
“Are you certain?”
Briggs aroused her senses in a way she had never known, yet she was frightened at the same time. The last time they had come together this way, it had not ended well. Would it be different this time?
“I’m sure. I’m just nervous.”
“Why? You’ve done this before.”
Her arousal skidded to an abrupt halt. She knew it was the truth, but he had used it to hurt her. To make her remember that she had not been a virgin on their wedding night.
“Sarah,” he said. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded. I’m sorry.”
All of a sudden, she just wanted to go home. Back to the dugout.
She couldn’t even look at him, knowing how he still felt about her. She had so wanted his respect and had thought she’d earned it over the past few days.
Swallowing, she watched him wade out of the water, his nude body a shadowy work of art in the darkness. “We should go back.”
Sarah waded out of the creek, hugging herself, her teeth chattering. After they were both dressed, he took her arm and helped her up the creek bank, but all his gentlemanly courtesies could not mask how he truly saw her, and how wretched it made Sarah feel.
Chapter Fourteen
Leading his wife across the prickly, ravaged field, Briggs wondered in the darkness if this marriage would ever work. He wanted to kick himself for what he’d said down at the creek. He couldn’t deny that he had said it to hurt her. A part of him still thought she must care for the man who had loved her first. Why wouldn’t she? It was hardly more than a month.
Briggs tightened his grip on Sarah’s slender arm, leading her around a pile of shredded corn stalks. They walked in a cloud of uneasy silence, the moon lighting their way.
When they walked into the barn yard, he finally let her go. Head down, she quickened her pace to the house and went inside. Briggs stopped and watched the tiny window brighten with a warm, flickering glow. He turned toward the barn—his bed until the locusts had come. He turned back to the little dugout.
What should he do? Where should he sleep tonight?
He remembered holding Sarah in his arms only minutes ago, the way her soft, lush body had curved into his. He remembered her at his side two nights ago, on her hands and knees in the field, cutting corn stalks. She’d been fearless. Everything he could have wanted in a wife.
He gazed up at the dark sky, breathed in the clean scent of the prairie, and felt a chill. His hair was still wet. Autumn would soon arrive.
Burying his hands deep in his pockets, he stood outside a while longer, kicking at the dirt, then walked to the dugout. If he could find the courage, he would ask Sarah if she would let him sleep indoors tonight.
* * *
Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, pinning her hair up after donning dry underclothes and a fresh bodice. The fire in the stove burned and crackled, the golden lantern
light flickered, but the dugout seemed empty and cold. Then the door creaked open and Briggs walked in. She stared up at him in dismay, but oh, so happy to see him. She had expected him to stay in the barn tonight.
“Hi again,” he said, hesitating on the top step.
She hadn’t realized how tense she was until that instant when her shoulders loosened and she exhaled lightly. “Hi. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Are you? Even after what I said at the creek?” Slowly, he descended the steps.
“Would you like something to eat?” Sarah asked. “I could get a—”
He stopped her with a raised hand. “Please, Sarah. We should talk.”
Her nerves wrenched beneath her skin. “All right,” she replied, praying this wasn’t going to be painful.
He sauntered toward her in that slow, appealing way that he had of moving. His good looks and virility were always such a distraction, even in a moment like this. “You had every right to be angry earlier. What I said was wrong.”
Sarah blinked in surprise.
“You didn’t deserve that,” he continued, staring down at her with wonder.
“I just want to be a good wife,” Sarah explained, her voice shaky. “Your wife. I wish I could rewrite everything that happened to me before I met you.”
He exhaled sharply with regret, then took her by the hand, led her to the bed, and they both sat down. “But you can’t rewrite the past and neither can I.” He looked down at their joined hands and ran his thumb over hers for a moment, as if thinking about something. Sarah’s whole body warmed at the sensation.
Without looking up, he added, “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. It might change what I’ve got now.”
Sarah stared wordlessly at him, barely able to comprehend all this.
“I know we had a rough start, Sarah, but I’d like to put it behind us, if you’re willing.” He turned her small hand over in his strong one, lacing his fingers through hers. “It’s true, neither of us got what we expected. I know you wanted someone more…polished. I saw it in your eyes the first time you looked at me.”
Sarah wet her lips, surprised and saddened that he’d noticed.
Mail Order Prairie Bride: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Book 1) Page 11
