Shadows Through Time

by Madeline Baker

  Kelsey hugged Angelina. “Behave yourself while we’re gone.”

  “Don’t worry about us,” Papa Joe said, draping his arm over Angelina’s shoulders. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Make sure she does her homework,” Kelsey admonished. “And don’t let her stay up ’til all hours.”

  Papa Joe made a shooing motion with his hands. “Get along with you,” he said. “I raised eight kids, I think I can handle this little bitty one.”

  Grinning, Kelsey gave her grandfather another hug, waved to Angelina and climbed into the wagon Reese had rented for their journey to Bitter Ridge.

  “How long will it take us to get there?” Kelsey asked as Reese picked up the reins and clucked to the team.

  “About five hours.”

  Five hours, she thought as she settled on the hard plank seat. They could have been there in far more comfort and far less time in her Mustang. Still, there was something rather pleasant about sitting next to Reese, watching the countryside go by. In her Mustang, they would have been going sixty miles an hour, too fast to have noticed the small herd of deer grazing in the trees not far from the dirt road. She probably wouldn’t have paid any attention to the tiny pink and white flowers nodding in the sun, or had time to watch the eagle that dipped and soared effortlessly overhead. Yes, there was a lot to be said for a slower lifestyle.

  They had been traveling for about two hours when Reese pulled off the road.

  “Why are we stopping?” Kelsey asked.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

  She glanced around. There was nothing to see but prairie and blue sky for miles in every direction.

  Reese hopped down off the wagon seat, came around and helped her to the ground, then reached under the seat and withdrew a covered basket and a blanket.

  “A picnic?” she mused aloud.

  He nodded. “Come on.”

  She followed him to a shady spot under a tree where they spread the blanket, then sat down. Reese uncovered the basket and set out a veritable feast—fried chicken, slices of cold ham and cheese, cornbread and potato salad, along with a couple bottles of sarsaparilla.

  Everything tasted wonderful. She didn’t know if it was because she was suddenly famished, or if it was because she was sharing her first meal with her new husband. She decided it was mostly the latter.

  She was acutely aware of his presence, of the way his gaze continually moved over her, of the way butterflies danced in her stomach each time he looked at her. By the time she finished eating, she was quivering with desire and he hadn’t even touched her! How would she wait until they reached Bitter Ridge?

  It quickly grew evident that Reese didn’t intend to wait. With his gaze hot upon her face, he quickly tossed their dishes and utensils back into the basket and put it aside and then he was reaching for her, drawing her down on the blanket beside him.

  “What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

  “What do you think?”

  “But…”

  “You’re not gonna refuse me, are you? Not on our wedding day.”

  She glanced around, feeling horribly exposed. “What if someone comes by?”

  “No one can see us from the road.”

  She supposed he was right. They were pretty far off the road and the wagon would block their presence from anyone passing by. She hoped. Still, she might have protested further but it was difficult to argue when he was trailing kisses across her cheeks, when his hands were slowly exploring the contours of her body.

  She moaned softly as his hand slid under her skirt to caress her thigh. And then his mouth covered hers in a long, lusty kiss that drove all rational thought from her mind. She had wanted him for weeks and now, at last, he was hers. Excitement and anticipation fluttered in her stomach like drunken fireflies as she began an exploration of her own. His skin was hot beneath her fingertips, his body taut with desire. Impatient now, she quickly relieved him of his jacket and shirt, let her hands slide over his chest, down his belly.

  “Turnabout is fair play,” he drawled and in moments, she lay in his arms, the blanket soft beneath her bare skin, his heated body draped over hers.

  She knew a moment of regret that he hadn’t been her first lover, that she couldn’t come to him pure and untouched, but before she had time to dwell on it, Reese was whispering in her ear, telling her that he loved her, proving it with long slow kisses that branded her as his even as it burned away the memory of another man’s possession. It was as if no one else had ever kissed her or touched her, as if she were a new creature who had been born for this man, this moment. She knew only the taste of his mouth on hers, the pleasure of his hands stroking her, arousing her, worshipping her. Loving her. With Reese, each touch and caress was a new sensation. She gave him everything she had to give, her heart, soul and body, joining with his. It was the sweetest, most tender moment in her whole life as his body merged with hers, healing old wounds. Making her feel as if it was, indeed, the first time.

  She cried his name as waves of pure sensual pleasure pulsed through her, clung to him as his body convulsed, carrying her to completion.

  Later, with the blanket covering them, she rested in his arms, more content than she had ever been in her life.

  Reese brushed a kiss across her cheek. “What are you smiling about?”

  “I think from now on you’ll be in charge of lunch.”

  Laughter rumbled in his chest. “You think so, huh?”

  “Definitely.”

  He nibbled on her earlobe. “Okay by me, as long as you’re dessert.”

  His hands drifted over her, lightly caressing.

  “Give you an hour to stop that,” she murmured.

  “Only an hour?” He was teasing but she heard the husky yearning in his voice. He kissed her cheek, the back of her neck, rolled her over so he could possess her mouth with his. And then, reluctantly, he sat up. “We’d better get moving, unless you want to spend the night out here.”

  “Can we?”

  “If you want, but you’re gonna be mighty cold and mighty hungry come morning.”

  He was right, darn it.

  Rising, they gathered up their clothes, kissing and caressing while they dressed.

  “Next time in a bed,” he said, “with a soft mattress and a feather pillow.”

  “All right,” she agreed, “as long as you’re there.”

  Reese picked up the basket and stowed it back under the wagon seat while Kelsey folded the blanket. Instead of throwing it in the back, she spread it across the wooden seat to cushion it.

  A short time later, they were on the road again. Kelsey couldn’t stop looking at Reese, couldn’t stop touching him. She ran her hand along his hard-muscled thigh, over his shoulder, along his arm. She kissed his cheek and the line of his jaw, thrilled beyond words that he was hers now, that she could touch him wherever and whenever she wished.

  “You keep that up,” he warned, “and we’ll never get to town.”

  “Promises, promises,” she muttered with a saucy grin.

  He slowed the team, a wicked look in his eyes. “We can do it right here, right now,” he said, “if you don’t mind a little company.”

  Her eyes widened. “Company?”

  He jerked his chin at the road ahead. Two men on horseback were riding toward them.

  “If you can restrain yourself for another half an hour or so,” he said, “we can do it on clean sheets.”

  * * * * *

  Angelina sat on a chair on the boardwalk, idly drumming her fingertips on the arm. It was Sunday evening and she was bored. Papa Joe dozed in the rocker beside her. She glanced down the street. She could hear music and singing coming from the church. She knew Danny was there, with his parents. She wondered what it was like to have a mother and a father, to go to church as a family. To be respectable. She was almost sixteen and she had never been to church. She didn’t know who her father was. She had never been respectable. Growing up, she hadn’t unders
tood why the townspeople treated her the way they did. Mothers wouldn’t let their children talk to her. Women crossed the street when they saw her mother coming. The men were friendlier, or so she’d thought. When she grew older, she knew that look in their eyes had nothing to do with friendship.

  Angelina glanced down the street again, wishing for things that could never be. Even though she had never taken a man upstairs, she was tainted with her mother’s blood, stained with her mother’s reputation. No decent man would ever want to marry her.

  She sniffed back a tear. It wasn’t fair. But maybe she was worrying for nothing. Except for Reese and Kelsey, no one in Grant’s Crossing knew who her mother was or what Charlotte did for a living. Sitting up straighter, she brushed the tears from her eyes. She’d never done anything wrong, well, except to steal money from Charlotte, but she’d had to do that. She was just as good as anybody else in this town!

  Rising, she hurried down the street toward the church, drawn by the music and the singing and an overwhelming curiosity about what people did in church besides get married.

  * * * * *

  Papa Joe woke with a start. Must be getting old, he thought, falling asleep like that. He looked over to where Angelina was supposed to be, his eyes widening when he saw her empty chair. Damn, where had the girl gone off to and how long had she been gone?

  Rising, he peeked into the hotel lobby, but there was no sign of her. Thinking she might have gone upstairs, he went up to check her room, swore when he saw it was empty.

  Down on the boardwalk again, he glanced up and down the street. It was Sunday evening. Most of the stores were closed. Surely she hadn’t gone into one of the saloons?

  The sound of singing drew his attention. With a prayer in his heart, he headed toward the church.

  He found Angelina sitting on the back row, her hands in her lap, her cheeks wet with tears. Scooting in beside her, he put his arm around her shoulders, wondering why she was crying. And then, as the preacher’s words reached his ears, he knew. The preacher was decrying the sins of the flesh, admonishing the young women to protect and preserve their chastity, urging the men, young and old, to avoid harlots and shun the sins of adultery and fornication.

  As soon as the service was over, Joe took Angelina by the hand and led her outside.

  Once they were out of sight of the church, he drew the girl into his arms.

  “There now,” he said, patting her back, “there now.”

  “My mama’s going to hell, isn’t she?” Angelina asked, sniffing back her tears.

  “Well, now, that’s not for me to say, or for that preacher, either.”

  “He sounded so sure…he said harlots burn in hellfire forever.” She looked up at him, her eyes red, her lower lip quivering. “I hate her,” she said, “but I don’t want her to burn.”

  Joe pulled his handkerchief from his coat pocket and dried her tears. “Only the good Lord is fit to judge your mama,” he said. “She’s in His hands, just like everybody else.”

  “Do you think she’ll go to hell?”

  “Now, how would I know that?” he asked with an affectionate smile. “I don’t even know your mama.”

  “You’re lucky,” Angelina said. And wiping the last of the tears from her eyes, she made her way back to the hotel, more determined than ever never to return to her mother’s house.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kelsey’s gaze darted from one side of the street to the other. Bitter Ridge was a good-sized town, far larger than Grant’s Crossing. Though she had never been to the east in this time period, she had a feeling it would look a lot like this, with wide streets, lots of shops and houses that were well-cared for.

  They left the wagon at the livery stable. With Reese carrying their bags, they walked down the boardwalk to the hotel. The Hopkins was larger and more luxurious than the hotel at Grant’s Crossing and boasted a wide, double staircase and expensive carpets. Tiffany lamps adorned the marble-topped tables. Dainty settees covered in damask were placed around the spacious lobby.

  Reese secured a room and they went upstairs to wash up. There was a tub in their room, partially hidden behind a folding screen. By the time they had settled in, the hot water had arrived.

  Gentleman that he was, Reese graciously allowed her to bathe first. Knowing him as she did, she wasn’t surprised when he appeared at the side of the bathtub and took the soap from her hand. Her heart skipped a beat as he proceeded to wash her, carefully and thoroughly, from head to foot. Having Reese bathe her was an erotic experience that had Kelsey blushing with pleasure as his large soapy hands moved over her.

  Being a modern woman, she naturally turned the tables on him, unable to decide which was the most rewarding, being washed, or doing the washing.

  The water was turning cool when Reese stepped out of the tub. In spite of the cold water, it was apparent that he was as aroused as she. Naked and dripping wet, he gathered Kelsey into his arms. The towel wrapped around her middle slipped unnoticed to the floor.

  “Reese, what are you doing?” she exclaimed as he carried her to the bed. “You’re soaking wet! The sheets…”

  “We’ll get dry ones later,” he said, his voice a low growl. “I can’t wait any longer.”

  Laughing, she locked her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her. Her hands slid up and down his back, thrilling to the play of muscles beneath her fingertips, reveling in the heat of his body, the taste of his kisses, the hungry look in his eyes as his gaze swept over her. She didn’t think anything could have been better than the first time. Finding out otherwise proved to be a most pleasant surprise.

  Later, after they each took another quick dip in the tub, they dressed and went out to dinner at the town’s best restaurant.

  After they ordered, Kelsey glanced around the room, noting the fine linen cloths on the tables, the delicate crystal vases filled with fresh flowers, the chandelier.

  “Why don’t you live here, in Bitter Ridge?” she asked, wondering why anyone would choose Grant’s Crossing over this place.

  Reese shook his head. “This town’s too civilized for me. Might as well live in Boston.”

  “What’s wrong with Boston?”

  “Too civilized,” he said with a grin. “I like a town that’s still a little rough around the edges.”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  He shrugged. “Easier to go unnoticed in a town like Grant’s Crossing.”

  “Oh, right.” She had forgotten that he was wanted by the law. But then, how many people outside of Kansas City or Hays would be aware of that? Life in the Old West wasn’t like it was today, when news spread across the globe at the blink of an eye, when pictures of wanted men could be seen on every TV screen and computer in America.

  “Does it bother you?” he asked. “Me being wanted by the law?”

  “Not really. Actually, I’d forgotten all about it. What will happen, if they catch you?” Nightmare images of Reese being led to the gallows and hanged flashed through her mind.

  “I reckon I’d go to jail for a long time.” He leaned forward, his dark eyes intense. “Would you wait for me, Kelsey?”

  “Of course I would,” she said, and then blinked at him as his words sank in. How could she make a promise like that when she didn’t know how long she would be here?

  He knew what she was thinking, she could see it in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a wink. “I’m not gonna get caught.”

  Famous last words, she thought, but didn’t say them aloud.

  After dinner, they walked hand-in-hand through the town, pausing now and then to look in shop front windows.

  “Look.” She pointed at a brown bowler hat in the window. “I’ve got to buy that for Papa Joe.”

  “We’ll come back tomorrow,” Reese said.

  They walked a little farther down the street before she stopped again. “Oh! Angelina would look wonderful in that dress!”

  “Which one?”

  “The
lavender one, there, in the corner.”

  “I thought we came to buy furniture?”

  Kelsey looked up at him and smiled. “I think you should know that I love shopping, especially for other people. Now,” she said, continuing down the boardwalk, “what shall we buy for you?”

  “I don’t need anything.”

  She stopped in front of a men’s clothing store. “How about that vest?”

  “That one?” He looked at her in mock horror. “The green and orange plaid one?”

  Pursing her lips to keep from laughing, Kelsey nodded. It was ugly beyond words, from its puce-colored silk lining to its brass buttons.

  Crossing the street, they started up the other side. “Wait,” Reese said, stopping in front of The Bon Ton for Ladies Shoppe. “Since we’re buying presents for everyone, I want to buy something for you.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “That.” She followed his gaze to the most hideous dress she had ever seen. It was brown and gold and pink, with a high collar, long sleeves and a bell-shaped skirt. “All right,” she said, laughing, “you win.”

  * * * * *

  In the morning, Reese got the wagon from the livery and they drove to Brown’s Furniture and Carpentry Shop where Kelsey picked out two settees covered in a blue print, as well as five small round tables and one large square table, with matching chairs for each. She bought a long table for the kitchen, as well as a couple of chairs and a small glass-fronted cupboard.

  The mercantile provided dishes, silverware and glassware, pots and pans, as well as material for curtains, tablecloths and napkins.

  “You buy one more thing and we’re gonna need a bigger rig,” Reese said as they loaded her purchases into the back of the wagon.

  “Oh, I think one hat and one dress will fit. I can’t go home empty-handed.”

  Reese glanced at the overloaded wagon. “Empty-handed?”

  “You know what I mean. When I was a little girl, every time Papa Joe went to town, he came back with presents for me and Nana Mary.”

  “All right, but make it quick,” Reese said, patting her hand. “I’d like to make it home before dark.”