peak. She focused on him then, enjoying the way he throbbed inside her, his seed fil ing her.
She loved this moment the most, loved knowing he had received pleasure from her body and
found completion in her.
Once she felt him relax, she leaned forward and kissed him again. This time when he returned
her kiss, his mouth and hands weren’t demanding. His hands caressed her back, and his
tongue lightly brushed hers. They continued to hold and kiss each other for a couple more
minutes, neither one in a hurry to return to the world where other people existed.
“Oh Mary,” he whispered as he brushed her hair from her shoulder. “You’re so wonderful.”
She smiled and traced his jaw with her fingers. “I’m glad you were there that day at the train
station when I arrived in Omaha.” Who knew what her life would have been like if he hadn’t
been? She couldn’t imagine any other man loving her as wel as he did.
He returned her smile. “We were meant to be together.”
“I think you’re right.”
With a chuckle, he gave her shoulder a light squeeze. “Of course, I’m right. It wasn’t a
coincidence I was there. It was fate.”
Liking that, she nodded her agreement before she got off of him. She gathered the light
blanket from the edge of the bed, settled next to him, and draped the blanket over them. As
was his custom, he drew her into his arms and held her protectively to him.
“It’l always be you, Mary. There’l never be anyone else.”
Her face flushed with pleasure at his words. “You’re the only one I want to be with.”
He kissed the top of her head and let out a contented sigh. She remained awake for a while as
he drifted off to sleep. The day had been a long one, and so much had happened. She’d
learned some unpleasant things, but being here with Dave and recal ing that day at the river
made it al worth it.
Chapter Twelve
The next day, Mary decided to help her mother make breakfast to see if she could smooth
things out with her. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but she knew if she didn’t say
anything, the rest of the trip would be awkward and she didn’t want there to be any hard
feelings between her and her mother. Perhaps she was content with the strained tension in the
past, but she didn’t wish for things to continue as they had. As she saw it, this was a chance at
a new start.
After she got ready for the day, she turned to Dave as he pul ed on his boots from where he
sat on the bed. “What would you like for breakfast?”
“Are you sure you feel up to cooking?” he softly asked.
“I enjoy it. Besides, I’m not used to sitting around and waiting for others to do things around
the house. I’l be restless if I spend as much time doing nothing as I did yesterday.”
He stood up and walked over to her. “You needed your rest, sweetheart.”
Blushing at his term of endearment for her, she shrugged. “I miss being in the kitchen and
preparing food for you.” She also missed their children and longed to hold Rachel and Isaac,
even if Isaac would groan and pul away from her because he was too old for hugs and kisses.
“I just don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”
“I won’t.”
“I’m afraid I’ve heard that before,” he kindly warned. “You said you could say no whenever you
wanted but couldn’t. I won’t have anyone taking advantage of you.”
“I mean it, Dave. I real y want to cook.” Deciding to tease him, she added, “Unless you prefer
my mother’s cooking.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t. No one’s food tastes as good as yours.”
“Then you should be glad I’m volunteering to do this.”
“I am, but only if you want to do it.”
“Wel , I do.”
“Alright. What am I supposed to do while you leave me alone to fend for myself?”
She giggled. “You’l find something to do. So, what would you like to eat? My mother has just
about everything you’d find at a mercantile in the kitchen.”
“I wouldn’t mind your french toast and hash browns.”
“I’l make those then.” She kissed him before she turned to leave the room. Glancing at the
closed door to her father’s room, she wondered when he’d want to see her again. “I suppose
he’s stil asleep.”
“Probably. He doesn’t seem like he has a lot of energy.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she commented as they walked down the hal way and headed down the
stairs. “I don’t remember him when he was younger. It’s hard to imagine him as anything but
how he is now.”
“He might be weak in his body, but his mind is sharp. He’s glad we came, especial y so he
could see you again.”
“I’m glad I got to see him, too. If I don’t remember anything else, at least I have this trip.”
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she was surprised to see that no one else was
downstairs. “Do you think everyone else is stil asleep?”
He shrugged. “It appears so. It’s an hour after sunrise. I thought we slept in too long.”
“I must have slept in when I lived here.”
He took her hand in his and led her to the front door. “There’s no sense in cooking until
everyone is up. We’l just have to spend a little more time together.”
“I wouldn’t mind that,” she confessed as he opened the door and waited for her to go out first
before he fol owed her onto the porch and softly shut the door behind him. Examining the quiet
neighborhood, she smiled. The sound of birds chirping in the air and the smel of the cool
summer air hinting at the ocean not far from where they were brought her a feeling of peace.
“This is rather nice, don’t you think?”
“It is.” With a mischievous grin, he picked her up and sat down on the chair, making sure she
was comfortable on his lap. “Now this is how you enjoy a summer morning.”
She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Now this is familiar.”
“What? Are you tel ing me some other man did this to you when you lived here?”
Though he joked with her, she sensed the possessiveness underlying his tone and thril ed at the
thought he’d be jealous if another man had, indeed, touched her this way. “No, sil y. I just
meant that you do this back home, in Nebraska.”
He shrugged and, his arms stil around her, gave her a gentle squeeze. “I like surprising you
from time to time.”
“As long as you don’t surprise me when I’m sewing.”
He grimaced. “Yes, I learned my lesson. Never startle you when you have a needle in your
hand.”
She chuckled when he shuddered. “I didn’t prick you that hard.” She stroked the area of his
arm where the needle had punctured him. “You healed from it.”
“I don’t know. I think you need to kiss me and make it al better again.”
Unable to resist the temptation to kiss him, she did. His lips were soft and welcoming on hers.
He pul ed her closer to him, his hands caressing her back.
The front door opened, and at the sound of someone’s startled gasp, Mary pul ed away from
Dave, surprised to see her mother standing in the doorway. Her mother’s eyes narrowed at
them before she gave a slight shake of her head and went back into the house, slamming the
door behind her. Mary bolted out of Da
ve’s arms and got ready to fol ow her mother when he
grabbed her hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You don’t have anything to be ashamed of,” he softly replied.
“I know that. I’m just going to talk to her.”
“Your pa said she didn’t approve of anything you did.”
She stared at him in curiosity and debated whether or not she wanted to know more.
“You’re a wife and mother, Mary. You don’t have to answer to her for anything. You’re not a
child anymore.”
“I know that.”
“Just be sure to remember it.”
Her gaze went from the door and then back to him. “I wil .”
He released her hand and nodded.
Standing stil for a moment so she could regain her composure, she realized part of her
problem with her mother was that her mother was used to making her feel inadequate in a lot
of areas of her life. If that was the case, it was no wonder she didn’t keep her mother’s letters.
Feeling prepared, she entered the house, letting the door fal softly behind her before she
proceeded to the kitchen. She heard some movement from upstairs and guessed everyone in
Grace’s family was getting ready for the day. As long as they stayed up there, she could talk
to her mother alone.
Her steps slowed as she reached the kitchen. She peered around the doorway and saw her
mother taking a pan off the hook from the wal . Mary took a deep breath. She could do this.
She could walk into the kitchen and talk to her mother. Ignoring the way her stomach tensed,
she stepped into the room and cleared her throat. Her mother didn’t turn in her direction as she
placed the pan on the cook stove.
Taking another step forward, she steeled her resolve. “Can I help make breakfast?”
She waited as her mother placed some butter into the pan. It was on the tip of her tongue to
warn her that she didn’t need that much butter but decided against it. Instead, she approached
the worktable and watched as her mother grabbed a loaf of bread from the breadbox and eggs
from a basket.
As her mother cracked the eggs into a bowl, it occurred to her that her mother had no intention
of answering her, so she decided to press the issue. “Mother?”
Her mother’s gaze shot in her direction, her blue eyes sharp, her mouth forming a thin line.
She swal owed the lump in her throat. “I don’t understand. Why are you upset?”
She shook her head as she grabbed a fork and mixed the eggs together. “I don’t know what’s
worse: the fact that you even have to ask or the way you were acting just now.”
Mary’s cheeks warmed in shame. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? Sorry for being so daft you don’t know what you did or sorry for whoring
yourself in front of everyone?”
Her jaw dropped. “Whoring myself?”
“Disgraceful. Absolutely disgraceful. You and him on the porch in front of everyone.”
“But…but…no one was out there.”
“Thank God for that! Can you imagine the talk if there had been? I don’t know what kind of
behavior is acceptable out there in Nebraska, but when you’re in Maine, you’d do wel to
remember we stand for decency here. That’s al I need. Your father is on his deathbed, and
al you can think about is acting…like that…where everyone can see.”
“We were alone. No one could have seen us from that angle on the porch.”
“Wel , I did, didn’t I?”
Tears sprang to Mary’s eyes at her mother’s bitter tone.
Footsteps fel on the stairs and her mother turned her back to her and placed the eggs into the
pan. Grace entered the kitchen and told her children to play quietly in the parlor. Mary quickly
brushed her tears away so her sister wouldn’t see them. The last thing she needed was for her
sister to see that she’d been having an unpleasant discussion with their mother.
“Good morning,” Grace said in a cheerful tone that contrasted strongly to the dark mood in the
room. “What are we making this morning?”
“Omelets and bread,” their mother said, her voice pleasant.
“Sounds wonderful.” Grace glanced at Mary, but Mary quickly averted her gaze. “Mind if I
help?”
“You know where the tomatoes, onions, and cheese are,” their mother replied, stil not looking
at Mary.
“Yes, I do.” Grace looked over at Mary again and smiled. “I know you’d figure out a way to
season everything so they’d be better than anything Mother or I can make. I fear Calvin wil get
spoiled and won’t want to eat my cooking anymore.”
As much as Mary appreciated the teasing tone in her sister’s voice, it did little to make her feel
better, especial y when their mother grunted a reply.
Grace’s gaze went from their mother and back to Mary where she shot her a questioning look.
Mary shook her head and left the room. She couldn’t pretend nothing was wrong, not until she
had sufficient time to regroup. As she hurried toward the stairs, she almost ran into Cal Jr.
“Sorry, Aunt Mary,” he said.
The front door opened, and as soon as she saw Dave, she couldn’t stop her tears. She rushed
up the stairs and fled to the bedroom. She knew he’d be disappointed in her, and right now,
she didn’t want to hear it. It was enough she had to hear how she displeased her mother. As
she feared, he fol owed her, and since he was tal er than her, he made it to the bedroom the
same time she did so she couldn’t shut the door and be alone.
“What did she say?” he demanded as she fel onto the bed.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she cried. “I just want to be alone.”
He stood by the open door for a long moment and watched her as she continued to sob. She
hated this. She felt like a little girl who’d been caught doing something wrong, but she wasn’t.
She’d seen Dave’s family show affection to one another. Sometimes the men would put their
arms around their wives or the women would sit on their husbands’ laps. She’d even caught his
parents kissing when they thought they were alone, and if someone walked in on them, they
laughed it off. If she and Dave had acted so friendly in front of a group of people, she could
understand why her mother would be upset, and if she’d known her mother was up, she
wouldn’t have done it. But she thought they were alone.
Dave shut the door and walked over to the bed. He hesitated but then sat next to her. Placing
his hand on her back, he whispered, “Won’t you talk to me?”
This only made her cry harder. Sighing, he brought her into his arms and let her cry for as long
as she needed to. When her sobs final y died down, she remained in his arms, grateful he
didn’t press her to talk because the last thing she wanted to tel him was what her mother said.
When someone knocked at the door, she stiffened and pul ed away from him. “I don’t want to
see anyone right now,” she whispered.
He nodded and stood up so he could open the door.
“I came to tel you breakfast is ready,” Grace said.
When he glanced her way, Mary shook her head. The last thing she wanted to do was eat in
this house.
“Not this morning,” he told Grace.
“Is Mary feeling alright?”
He looked at Mary again, so she nodded. Grace didn’t need to be brought into this mess. In<
br />
fact, she didn’t want anyone to know. She didn’t want anyone to know her mother had
compared her to a woman of il repute.
Dave turned back to Grace. “She’s fine. Just tired is al .”
“Alright,” Grace replied. “Tel her she can talk to me if she needs to?”
“I wil .”
She thanked him and left, so he closed the door and returned to Mary. “What happened with
your mother?”
“Please, Dave, I don’t want to think about it.”
For a moment, she thought he was going to let the matter drop since he didn’t say anything, but
then he drummed his fingers on the bed and let out a long sigh. “I don’t like this. Whatever
your mother said, it has something to do with me, and as far as I’m concerned, that means I
have a right to know.”
“No. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.” And real y it didn’t. He wasn’t the one “whoring”
himself.
“Yes, it does have something to do with me. I was out on that porch with you, and I saw the
look she gave us.”
Her stomach clenched in protest. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just forget it. Maybe my pa’s up. I
should see him.”
He reached out and stopped her before she could get off the bed. “Why do you do this?”
Surprised by the question, she settled back next to him, mindful of his hand that was firm, but
gentle, on her arm. “Why do I do what?”
“Whenever something unpleasant happens and I try to talk to you about it, you say you don’t
want to talk about it and then you run off to do something else.”
“Wel , I’d rather not discuss something you won’t like. I don’t want to fight with you.”
“You say that, too.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t remember saying it.”
“You haven’t recently, not since you lost your memory, and granted, you don’t do it often, but
there have been times in the past when you’ve done it. Like when Cassie kept asking you to
make her clothes, and even though you didn’t want to do it, you did. I’d ask you what you were
doing, and you refused to answer my question, saying you didn’t want to fight with me.”
If she knew who Cassie was or why it mattered, his comparison to this moment would’ve made
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