Love, Valentine Style

by Jasmine Haynes

  Elliot nodded. “I suppose. I can understand you’re surprise. I’m sorry I didn’t write, but with the mail unreliable as it is, my leave would be over before you even got the letter.”

  “Oh I enjoyed the surprise,” Charlie said. A woman would be crazy not to appreciate a handsome man showing up on her doorstep.

  The last of the tension in Elliot’s body faded and she drew a deep breath. Maybe now they’d have an enjoyable supper, if she could avoid her usual downfall of awkward conversation.

  “Where do you live these days, Charlotte? Tell me. I must know.”

  “Um… New York City.”

  Elliot chuckled. “Well that’s a surprise. I thought you enjoyed the country life.”

  “Country life? The closest I’ve been to a cow is a petting zoo, and you couldn’t pay me to ride a horse.”

  “I guess you won’t try to race me on horseback any more then.”

  “You mean I used to race you on horseback?”

  His eyes saddened. “Yes you were a bit wild for a female, loved to feel the wind whip your face. Perhaps my absence has taken some of that away…” His voice faded and he let out a small puff of air. “It seems you have forgotten me a little. You sure forgot who you used to be. I hadn’t expected that.”

  Forgotten who I used to be? Charlie’s forehead wrinkled. What was he referring to? He could be trying to speak to her subconscious. Perhaps who she used to be before her failed marriage?

  Elliot shook his head and smiled although his eyes remained a little glum. “But that’s no matter,” he said, shrugging it off, his voice returning to a more carefree tone. “Yes, we’d race back from the schoolhouse. You always were an expert horsewoman. Of course, I always knew you’d settle down one day.”

  Charlie felt like she was one step behind in the conversation. In Illinois? Where was this cabin at? She was too ashamed to ask. After all, as his former fiancé she should at least know where she was living. This was too confusing, and her comments only seemed to make him wistful.

  “How do you like the city?” Elliot asked. “It would take me a while to adjust to life there! Although it seems you are doing well.”

  “Thank you. I enjoy the busyness and all the people. The quietness in the country would make me uneasy.”

  “Uneasy?”

  “I might not be able to sleep without the sound of car horns and loud music.”

  “I see.” Elliot brushed it off, and Charlie was glad. She shouldn’t have brought up cars. He had no idea what they were.

  She felt the one confused though. Dreams weren’t supposed to make sense, right? They ate in silence for a few minutes, exchanging flirtatious smiles.

  “So what do you do in New York?”

  Charlie bit her lip. She’d been afraid this common question would come up. How should she explain it to him? Did he even think it was proper for a woman to work outside the home? Back then many men frowned on such independence. “I take care of historical artifacts the way a librarian looks after books. I categorize them, make sure they are displayed properly.”

  “That sounds like a good job. You always did have your nose in a book. Still trying to fill your head with knowledge?”

  This she could agree with. “Yes.”

  “Good. I like my women educated. I always thought you were going to become a schoolteacher.” He paused and a frown flickered on his lips. “I suppose the war ruined that.”

  It ruined a lot of things. Charlie tried to think of what to say to the Union soldier. She’d been avoiding the war, but since he mentioned it… “What happened to you in the war?”

  “You can tell I’ve changed? War does many things to a man, but it really isn’t polite conversation for a lady.”

  She bit her tongue. If they were engaged wouldn’t he want to share with her? Well, if not maybe it was something that would spoil her dream.

  “Let’s not talk about that now. Later, I promise. I have a three day pass and I’d like to spend time with you.”

  If only her dream would last all three days! She soaked up his smile, his rugged appearance. Mr. Lowery was nothing like her lawyer ex. His pretty boy looks had swept her off her feet, but now she was ready to walk on the wild side with a country boy.

  She reached for the rose and nearly tipped over the vase. Elliot’s hand rose and steadied the vase just in time. Their fingers brushed, a sizzling connection igniting between them.

  “How clumsy of me,” Charlie said. She was always awkward around men. Why did she also have to be so when she was asleep?

  “I didn’t mind,” Elliot said, handing her the vase.

  “Thank you.” She inhaled the sweet flowery scent deep into her lungs and then set it back on the table.

  He pointed to her bowl. “We better finish eating before it gets cold.”

  She took another bite, the tender meat breaking apart in her mouth. If only she really was such a good cook. She wouldn’t be spending half her salary on take out. Her subconscious had created a strange persona.

  “Pass the bread please,” he said.

  She handed him the plate of sliced bread. How he managed to butter his piece while looking at her she didn’t know. The way the knife slid across the bread combined with his suggestive expression wiped all thoughts from her mind. Her body hummed, eager to be with him.

  “You must be famished, Elliot,” she teased. His spoon went from his bowl to his mouth faster than she thought possible.

  Elliot didn’t hide the lust burning in his eyes. “Famished, yes,” he said in a small voice.

  Likely it had been a long time since he was around a woman. He clearly had one thing on his mind. Maybe he’d be rowdy in bed. She wasn’t the kind of woman who liked the missionary position. Her pulse sped, her heartbeats tumbling into one another. Whatever he wanted to give her, she was ready.

  “Beef stew is perfect on a winter evening,” Elliot said, scraping the bottom of his bowl. “It keeps a man warm. Of course there are other ways to keep warm, too.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, standing. “Shall I do the dishes?”

  He shook his head. “The dishes can wait.” He moved behind her, their bodies a breath away from touching. He leaned down and kissed her temple. “I’ve waited long enough,” he said. The gravel in his voice made her toes curl. “I need to be with you now.”

  She tipped her head back and looked up at him. Her heart gave one resounding thump. “I need you, too.”

  He stepped back, took her by the hands, and gently spun her around. “Let’s sit by the fire.”

  Lost in his dreamy eyes she would have agreed to sit with him anywhere—even in the middle of a snow drift. He led her over to the fireplace, unwrapped a red plaid blanket folded in the rocking chair, and spread it on the floor. He eased himself on the ground, taking her down with him.

  She laughed, tumbling into his arms. “You’d planned that, didn’t you?” Charlie asked.

  “Who me? No, of course not.” A hint of playfulness lingered in his eyes.

  She leaned back, nuzzling against his firm chest. Her fingers danced across his thigh and he stiffened.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “No,” he growled into her ear. Holding the sides of her face he held her still and kissed her, his lips brushing across her own. The longer they kissed the more he possessed her mouth. Eyes closed so she could savor the moment, she kissed back matching his intensity and moaned. A blazing heat simmered where their skin touched.

  He pulled back and ran his hand through her golden locks. “I’ve dreamed of this day for so long.”

  “Me too,” she replied. I am dreaming! Her smile widened and she felt a laugh building deep in her down.

  “I need to taste you, Charlotte, and more than just your lips.” His deep voice quickened the flutter in her heart. He nibbled softly on her ear and the laugh she’d been struggling to contain erupted. He held her tighter seeming to delight in her wave of giggles.

  He rained kisses, light and
tender, from her ear all the way down her neck. She tipped her head to the side, giving him easy access to her sensitive flesh. Each kiss fanned the heat between them, made her body long for more, the tingling sensation in her chest spreading lower.

  She squirmed in his arms, twisting around so she faced him. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth. It didn’t hurt but it took her by surprise, her eyes flaring. He let go and leaned into her, his nose buried in her hair.

  “I would never hurt you,” he murmured.

  “I know.” She wrapped her arms around him and they sat still, intertwined as one.

  He petted her arm, his palm dragging across her long cotton sleeves in a slow, sensual motion. The heat in his palm almost made the cotton barrier disappear. It felt like he was caressing her skin.

  He kissed her lips softly and his hand migrated from her arm down her back. It was a good thing she didn’t have a chaperone. She loved the way he felt her, held her, possessed her.

  Both of his hands suddenly brushed across her collar bone and she shivered. He wanted to touch her front. Her chest tightened and she eagerly offered herself to him. His fingers danced across her bosom and she sighed. Yes, she needed him. She hadn’t had a sexual dream since her divorce. It was strange she’d start with a historical one.

  Her skin blazed, even the parts of her he hadn’t touched—yet.

  He suddenly dropped his hands away from her. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He licked his bottom lip, the motion stirring her lust.

  “I don’t want to lose control of myself, Charlotte.”

  What did that mean?

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight again. In his embrace each beat of his heart, each rise of his chest resonated against her. Her eyes fluttered close. It had been a long day. She could easily fall asleep in his arms.

  “I love you, Charlotte,” he said, giving her a squeeze.

  “I love you, too, Elliot,” Charlie said without thinking. Those words felt right, not just what she was expected to say. After all, Miss Adams did love him and she could see why. He exuded both masculinity and charm.

  She rested her head against his shoulder. He started running his fingers through her hair, the way her mother used to do when she was a little girl. The soothing motion never failed to put her to sleep.

  *

  Charlie awoke still intertwined in Elliot’s arms, except now they were lying on their sides on the blanket. The light from the fire lit the sitting room, but the rest of the house had turned very dark.

  Elliot mumbled and looked at her with a self-satisfied grin, sleep still lacing his eyes. “I haven’t slept that well since before the war,” he said. He kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Charlotte. I needed the rest.”

  “I did, too, but now—”

  “I know. I know,” Elliot said, cutting her off. He sat up, putting distance between them.

  He’d misinterpreted what she was about to say. She wanted them to get closer. Maybe in the bedroom.

  Elliot stood and offered her a hand up. Once standing, Charlie turned up the lantern on the table to full light. She pulled the curtains. It was too dark outside to see out the window. Even with the fire going she felt a chill in the air. It was getting late. Anticipation made it hard for her to stand still. Elliot was a slow mover, but surely he’d done enough foreplay.

  A sleepy smile spread across Elliot’s face. “I’ve enjoyed our evening together, Miss Adams.”

  Charlie held her breath. Did that mean it was coming to a close? She glanced back toward the bedroom and then back at Elliot. Weren’t they going to…?

  “You tempt me, Charlotte,” Elliot said, “but I make sure my lust takes a second seat to my common sense.”

  Charlie frowned. So that was how it was going to be. They were following Civil War era decorum all the way down to not having sex before marriage. Her brows knit together. Couldn’t she change that? I mean this is my dream.

  “We’re engaged,” Charlie said sweetly, taking his hand. “I don’t think it would hurt.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “You wouldn’t think that if I died and left you with a baby.”

  Died? Charlie dropped Elliot’s hand as if it had turned ice cold. Thinking of this handsome man buried in some mass grave dowsed her desire. Maybe it was best they parted like this. She could remember the lust in his eyes, the heat in his touch, the dimples when he smiled.

  Her dark thoughts faded and her spirit lifted. She shouldn’t get greedy. This was the most action she’d had in a long time. And, she could always dream of him again.

  “I’m glad you are happy. I know you don’t want to part. We’ve been separated for far too long.”

  “Yes,” she said, taking in his solid frame so she could remember every striking detail. This was one dream she had to remember.

  He smiled. “You best get some sleep. Change into that new nightgown.” There was a twinkle in his eye.

  New nightgown? Oh yes, he thought her wrap dress was a nightgown. She’d do that if it would please him.

  “I have big plans for tomorrow, Charlotte. I can’t wait to share them with you.”

  What were his big plans? Did they involve her? Maybe she’d dream of him again. He gave her one last kiss, then left. She stood there with her back against the door for several long moments savoring the evening’s sensations. She hadn’t felt this happy since… Her gaze fell on the valentine and she picked it up. Carrying it with her, she made her way to bed.

  Chapter Four

  The room was dark. Charlie reached over to wrap her arm around Elliot, but all she felt was a cold white linoleum floor. The cabin didn’t have a white floor. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the track lighting.

  She must have fallen asleep. One of the Civil War valentines rested on the floor next to her. She picked it up and slowly got to her feet. The motion sensors activated and the lights in the room turned on. The sexy image of Mr. Lowery in his uniform remained vivid in her mind. That was a delectably strange dream.

  She walked over to the display case with the other Civil War valentines, opened it, and set the last valentine inside.

  “Ms. Bristol?” Mrs. Tilton’s small voice called. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine. I finished all the displays.” She made a sweeping motion with her arm.

  Mrs. Tilton folded her hands behind her back and slowly circled the room, looking at every display with a critical eye before returning to the Civil War valentines. “And there are the donated valentines. I really appreciate you adding them to the collection.”

  “It was no trouble at all. I’m rather mesmerized by them.” What Mrs. Tilton just said slowly sunk in. “I thought the anonymous donation was to the museum. You want me to keep them with the traveling collection?”

  “Oh, yes dear. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear. The money was for our museum, but obviously we can’t display them for very long. They are lovely, but they do not fit with our daily displays. The Civil War valentines belong with you.”

  Charlie’s forehead creased. The Civil War valentines were indeed a perfect addition to the collection, but there was something more about them than their beauty—something that seemed almost magical. It would be impossible to explain. “Thank you.”

  “Would you like to go out to dinner? You’ve been working for hours without a break. I’m sure you’re starving.”

  Charlie swept her tongue across the bottom of her mouth. Actually she still felt full which was odd considering she had skipped lunch. Well, she did have that tasty beef stew, but that was only a dream.

  “I could eat a little something. I’m afraid I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  “You New Yorkers eat like a bird,” Mrs. Tilton teased. “We could always just have dessert. Have you heard of the Cheesecake Factory?”

  “No. But that sounds delicious.”

  Charlie followed Mrs. Tilton out of the room. A twinge of pain hit her heart. Tomorrow was Valentine�
��s Day and she would be spending it here, in dreary Seattle, no longer married. And she didn’t even have a boyfriend.

  After the divorce she had buried herself in her work. It had kept her from her loneliness, until now. She’d be circulating, talking with the patrons, explaining the displays. She’d see countless happy couples. She hadn’t realized how hard that was going to be.

  Could she keep up her professionalism without breaking down?

  *

  After waking up at five a.m and dragging herself to the nearest Starbucks for another vente mocha, Charlie headed to the museum. It was a gray morning. She had expected as much. Her dream of spending an evening with Elliot lingered in her mind and she smiled for a second. That was only a dream. In real life she had no boyfriend and likely would spend the holiday alone.

  She sighed and took a long sip of coffee. At least she had a tasty mocha to console her. Patrons wouldn’t start coming until the museum officially opened at nine a.m. Would Mrs. Tilton already be there? She didn’t have a key. Coffee in hand, she walked up to the door and looked inside.

  She saw Mrs. Tilton, her back to the door. After knocking softly, Mrs. Tilton turned around and smiled. She quickly opened the door for her.

  “I didn’t expect you here so early, Ms. Bristol,” she said.

  “I still want to do research on Elliot Lowery.”

  “Ah. I think I have something that may help.”

  “Besides the valentines?”

  “Yes, it must have been stuck to the bubble wrap or something.”

  “Another valentine?” Charlie asked, following her down the hall.

  The museum director took quick strides and they headed to her office. She hadn’t walked that fast last night. She seemed very excited. What could it be?

  Mrs. Tilton picked something off her desk and handed it to her.

  “A tintype?” Charlie exclaimed more than questioned. The patriotic picture of a young man standing next to a Union flag and cannon was nestled loosely in an old paper frame. Private Lowery stared back at her, tall, masculine with thick black hair. His likeness was just as she had dreamed. She curled her toes and chewed on her bottom lip. How could that be?