The Fire of Home (A Powell Springs Novel)

by Harrington, Alexis

  Her throat tightened but she let out the breath she’d been holding. No one had ever told her something that passionate. No one had been her ally for years. With a small cry she flung herself into his lap and his arms, and didn’t care if all the neighbors saw them. “It’s the same for me. Why do you think I chose tomorrow for the date? I didn’t want to wait months for something that feels so right. People might talk—even Jess asked me if I’m expecting—but they’re talking about me anyway. The dress is ready, the dinner is arranged at the hotel, we’ve got Mr. Mumford. But I’d marry you if I had to wear a flour sack and stand in a field with peanut butter sandwiches for the guests if that’s all we had.”

  He gave her a big grin and took her hand. “That reminds me—I know the bride’s family usually pays for the wedding, but we aren’t children. I haven’t given you anything toward this except for reserving the bridal suite at the hotel. I have a little in the bank, you know. Is Dr. Jess covering this?”

  “Adam is paying.”

  He turned a bit gray in the face, and she felt guilty about her choice of words. She went on to remind him about the money she found and divided with Tabitha.

  “I didn’t know it was that much!”

  “Now, do you feel compelled to turn me in to the authorities for taking it?”

  He laughed, then lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Taking what? I don’t know what you’re talking about. You never told me anything.”

  Dusk settled over them as they sat there. Finally he said, “I’d better let you get on with whatever you need to do. We have a party to host tomorrow afternoon.” He winked at her and got to his feet.

  She laughed and wondered how, after all this time and everything she’d been through, she’d gotten so lucky. Maybe Bax had been right when he said it was their time, their turn. “Whit is going to be your best man?”

  “Yup. Em is going to get me put together properly so that I’m presentable. Doc Jessica is standing up for you?”

  “Yes. I’m so grateful that she forgave me and that I have her back in my life again. I guess I didn’t deserve her before.” She paused. “Do you think I’ll ever meet your family?”

  He sighed. “Someday. Maybe. After the old man is dead.”

  “Do they know about us?”

  “Nope. Hell, they don’t even know about me. You’re my family now.” He took her into his arms. “Speaking of which, you’d better get your fooling around in right now, lady. Tomorrow, I’m a married man.”

  His kiss was slow and leisurely, only hinting at a suppressed urgency that she had yet to see in him. He ran his hands up her back and one slipped around to her ribs, creeping higher toward her breast. Now she did care what neighbors might think if they saw this. She clutched his fingers in her own. “Bax, this is no one’s business but ours. We’re on the porch.”

  A boy flying past on his bicycle howled out a catcall when he saw them. “Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, and then yelled at the kid, “Don’t you wish!”

  “Bax!”

  He grasped her upper arms and looked into her eyes. “Tomorrow.”

  She nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  Then, with a quick peck on her mouth, he was down the front stairs and gone.

  The next day, under a brilliant blue-chrome sky, Jessica and Cole picked up Amy in Jess’s car because it had a backseat. They both looked very nice, and Cole actually smiled at her and carried her overnight bag down to the trunk of the car. She’d spent an hour soaking in the tub with a bar of sweet almond soap. Her hair she had washed the night before to make sure it would be dry by this morning so she could weave it into a braided chignon.

  “You look beautiful, Amy,” Jessica said. “Mama’s dress worked out so well for you.” The cream-colored lace gown with its gossamer veil made Amy feel like a princess on her way to marry her prince. She had even splurged on a pair of shoes to match. Bax had told her that Em was arranging for Amy’s bouquet. The group would be small—Granny Mae, Cole and Jess, Whit and Em, and Susannah and Tanner, if they decided to come. Maybe one or two others.

  A light July breeze stirred the poplar and graceful birches surrounding the small church, and the blooms of daisies bobbed in the gentle currents of wind. Amy looked around but she didn’t see the county sheriff’s car that would have carried Whit, Em, and Bax. A nervous jolt shuddered through her chest to her stomach.

  Any second thoughts?

  She remembered Bax’s question from the night before. She glanced at every form in the church, looking for the right one. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim church from bright daylight, but once they did, she found Bax up near the altar and relief swept through her. He looked so handsome in a suit. She’d never seen him in one before. Em was waiting in the foyer with a simple but lovely bouquet of white carnations and pink roses tied with a wide satin ribbon. Her red hair was twisted into an elegant upswept style and she wore a hat that matched her moss-green dress.

  “Aren’t you a pretty bride!” she said. She handed the flowers to Amy and they carried a whiff of spice and sweetness.

  “Thank you, Em, for everything. Bax told me you would supervise him to make sure he was dressed properly.”

  Em lowered her voice. “Don’t ever let him know I told you, but the poor man was so nervous, he lost his breakfast as soon as he ate it. This means an awful lot to him.” She smiled. “So do you.”

  “Oh, dear. I hope he’s all right.” Amy peeked into the church. “Where’s Whit?”

  Em sighed. “That’s the bad news. He got called out to Fairdale on a report about a still someone set up on Luke Becker’s property. He dropped us off but he felt like he had to go. Whit has known that old man and his wife for years.”

  “So he won’t make it?”

  “He said he’d try, but we might have to find someone else to stand in for him. But don’t worry about that—we’ll work it all out. This is your day, yours and Bax’s.”

  Amy caught Jessica’s eye where she stood chatting with Granny Mae, and the three held a short conference.

  “Do you think Cole might fill in?” Em asked. “I don’t suppose he knows Bax very well.”

  “It looks like Whit won’t be back? Mae mentioned the situation, of course. All right, I’ll do something.” She turned to her sister. “You just go about your job of being the bride.”

  After that, the few guests settled in the pews and Birdeen Lyons, who also served as the church organist, struck up the opening bars of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March on the panting old pump organ. At that sound, Amy clutched her bouquet in a stranglehold of emotion and began her short walk to the altar, where Bax was waiting for her with a sprig of lily of the valley on his lapel. There was no one to give her away, but that didn’t matter. Amy was her own person now, making her own decisions.

  Although she caught a quick, vague glimpse of Cole standing beside Bax, the rest of the brief, dignified ceremony was a joyous blur. Jessica pried the bouquet out of Amy’s nervous grip, and Bax held both of her hands in his. She made the appropriate responses when prompted, but she saw and heard only her husband. He gazed straight into her eyes and promised his life to her, come what may, good times and bad. When Amy repeated her vows, tears streaked her face and she clutched his hands.

  “Kiss your bride, young man,” Mr. Mumford instructed.

  Bax lifted Amy’s veil and gave her a bashful kiss. She smiled, both at him and to herself. This was not the same man she’d lain with on the sofa, caressing with feverish urgency. But he was her husband now; she knew the rest would come later this evening.

  Mumford put his hands on their shoulders to turn them around to face their guests. “Friends—Mr. and Mrs. Baxter Duncan.”

  Jessica gave her a handkerchief and they all applauded. Cole shook Bax’s hand. “Congratulations. I think you’ve got a great future ahead of you.”

  Amy loo
ked at Cole and nodded wordless thanks to him. She appreciated the kindness of his gesture, and knew that he made it with sincerity.

  The small group crowded around them to offer their best wishes, and suddenly Amy found herself facing Susannah Grenfell, Cole’s former sister-in-law and a woman she had once used in her shameful scheme to win Cole away from Jessica. Certainly, she liked Susannah, but her primary aim had been to convince her that Amy was the better choice. Susannah had believed only that she had a good friend. Discovering the truth, and at just about the same time the army had notified Susannah that her husband was presumed dead on the Western Front in France, had left her disillusioned and numb. Amy planned to apologize to her, just as she had to Jess and Cole. But with all that had happened lately, she hadn’t had the chance yet. Amy swallowed. She wasn’t sure if Susannah and Tanner had come to celebrate with them or to censure her. She couldn’t imagine that Susannah would create a scene at a social gathering like this, but people sometimes did strange things.

  “Amy,” Susannah greeted her with a hesitant smile. She carried John Henry in her arms and he slept on, despite the celebration going on around him. “I hope you’ve found what you sought for so long.” She glanced at Tanner, the man she’d married after she’d been declared a widow, and gave him a loving gaze. “I want you to be as happy as we are.”

  Amy released a quiet breath and her eyes grew teary again. “Thank you both for coming today. It means a lot to me, and to Bax.” She kissed Susannah, then Tanner leaned in to peck her cheek.

  “Come on, people,” Granny Mae called from the back. “Let’s get this party started. Everyone over to the New Cascades.”

  “Still bossy as ever,” Amy murmured to Bax. Granny Mae wore a navy-blue dress, and this was one of the few times that Amy had seen the old woman without her apron. Deirdre’s death had knocked the wind out of her for a while, but she’d bounced back, for the most part. In some ways she wasn’t quite as cocksure as before, but that was a relief.

  Bax took her arm. “What are we having for dinner?”

  “Do you really care?” Amy asked, giving him a mischievous look. “I’d have thought your mind would have carried you beyond the reception.”

  He grinned down at her. “Hey, I have to stoke up for afterward. I didn’t get much to eat this morning.”

  They emerged from the doors of the church into the afternoon sun and the bell in the steeple rang out to announce them. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that!” Amy said, looking up.

  “I think Em arranged for that with her boys and Mr. Mumford,” Jessica said, standing just behind her elbow.

  Bax and Amy were pelted with rice, and laughing, he grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the steps in the general direction of the hotel.

  After a wonderful dinner, happy toasts of illicit champagne, and servings of cake, Bax and Amy slipped away from their guests under a hail of good wishes and threats of a shivaree to their room on the second floor. Bax opened the door and then swept Amy into his arms and carried her in.

  “Can I take off my tie and jacket now?” he asked, setting her on her feet. “I’ve been wearing this getup all day and I’m not really a necktie sort of man.”

  “Yes, take them off,” she said, “but you should know that you look very handsome in dressy clothes.”

  “You might see me decked out like a store-window dummy once in a while in the future, but not often.”

  She shook her head and unpinned her veil, draping it over a chair. “Just like Cole and Tanner,” she said, quirking a brow at him. “Even Whit was wearing a tie when he showed up, and he’d been out on business.” She kicked off her shoes and sank onto the sofa, pleasantly tired from the excitement and complete happiness of the long day.

  He waved that off. “He just went to check on the Beckers. It wasn’t like digging a ditch.” He slouched beside her and took her into his arms, so that they were half sitting, half reclining. “Anyway, I didn’t bring you up here to talk about men’s furnishings.” He nuzzled her ear and sent a wave of delicious shivers across her shoulders and over her scalp.

  “No,” she whispered, “you didn’t.” She gazed into his handsome face and any shyness she’d felt began to melt away. Then she admitted, “When I got to the church and I didn’t see the county car, I thought . . .”

  “Thought what?”

  “Well, maybe you changed your mind.”

  He gave her a serious look. “Amy—as if I could.” He slid from the sofa to his knees in front of her. “I promise I will love you and protect you, no matter what.” He put the flat of her hand over his heart and covered it with his own. “I’ll never lie to you or play you false. I’ll keep you first in my heart and my head. I won’t abandon you and I’ll always be faithful to you. You’re stuck with me.”

  Amy’s throat grew tight and she almost wept. His pledge was even more meaningful and poignant than the vows they’d exchanged at the wedding. “And I have never loved anyone as much as I love you,” she said, studying the lean line of his jaw. He leaned forward and kissed her then, with more heat than she had ever known, leaving her breathless from his pledge and his lips. He smelled of soap and fresh-cut grass.

  He stood up and pulled her with him, turning her around. “Damn, you’ve got enough buttons on this dress to lock up a bank vault. How did you get into it?”

  “Jess fastened me in when she and Cole came to pick me up.”

  He made an impatient noise, and then as if by magic, her dress suddenly dropped off her shoulders, puddling around her ankles. He turned her around, and she stood before him in her white stockings and almost-transparent chemise with its strategically placed lace insets. His brows rose and he exhaled. He pulled a pin from her hair, and then another, letting them drop to the hardwood floor. With the last pin gone, her hair fell out of the elaborate style it had taken her an hour to construct and tumbled over her shoulders.

  He combed his fingers through the braids to loosen them and muttered, “God, I’m glad you haven’t bobbed your hair. A woman as beautiful as you should have long hair.”

  “Would you hate it if I did?” She had no plans to cut her hair. She was only curious.

  “No. I want you to do what makes you happy.” His gaze swept over her again. “I didn’t marry you for your hair. But—” He gestured at it and sighed. She smiled.

  With a featherlight touch, he skimmed the side of her breast and her eyes closed briefly at the sensation. Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss into it before he led her to the small adjoining bedroom.

  Pushing her back against the blue jacquard bedspread, he tugged his shirt off over his head and was down to his drawers before she had the chance to reach out and participate. He climbed over her and rolled her up against him. He planted kisses along her hairline, as soft and fluttering as the first one he’d put on her wrist that long-ago afternoon in the backyard. His breath stirred her eyelashes and she was electrified—she swore she could feel every sensation in her body. Her own breathing, her heart, the blood pumping through her veins. The sweetness of his lips moved over hers, now with an aching hunger. The hint of arousal that she’d known only with Bax now raged like a grass fire, melting her, turning her to thick, warm honey. She was no innocent, but all of this was new to her.

  He gripped her backside with both hands and pulled her tight against him. She nestled her hips against his and felt the hard length of him. When she pushed harder, he groaned and buried his mouth against her throat. Then he edged away enough to fit his hand between them and unbuttoned the bottom of her chemise, which wasn’t much more than ribbons of lace and diaphanous chiffon. She had made it herself and in a hurry, especially for this day.

  “You won’t tear the fabric, will you?” she whispered.

  “No, honey, why would I do that? I want to see this on you again.” Then Bax looked at her and she saw in his eyes that he realized why she worried. “I would neve
r do that to you.”

  When he touched the slick center of her and stroked her most sensitive place she drew a sharp, surprised breath. It was as if he’d touched her with a live lamp cord. A moan sounded in her throat.

  Instinctively she reached for him, too. Snaking a hand into his fly, she found him hot and smooth under her fingers, and much more than she expected.

  “God, woman, you’re merciless,” he mumbled. Amy felt empowered—an equal partner—in a new and completely different way. She wasn’t frightened or burdened with a sense of duty that made her want to shrink from his touch. Bax desired her and she wanted him. He rolled out of her grip and stood to strip off the underwear. His long torso and backside had not a spare ounce of fat and she could see his muscles flex beneath his skin. His strength, and his contrast to her own softness, added fuel to her desire. Behind him the late-day sun gleamed through the filter of the lace curtains on the window, and he was outlined with rich gold light that highlighted all the red and blue strands usually unnoticeable in his dark hair.

  Bax was a man—a true man, physically and morally. His touch was gentle as he teased off her stockings and slipped her camisole straps off her shoulders, then bared her to his view. His hands and mouth were everywhere on her then, tender, urgent, passionate. She responded in kind. Lips and tongues met and moved on to explore, only to return and meet again.

  “All those years alone,” he said, his breath coming fast, “all that time was the sentence I served to have you. And you were worth every minute.”

  “You’re my reward for paying the consequences of every bad thing I did and have lived through,” she said against his chest.

  Bax took her then in one heat-fueled stroke, his body covering hers, their hips reaching for the other. Her breath whooshed out of her, the sensation was that intense and unexpected. So primal and visceral was their joining that words had no use or meaning now. She felt as if she’d lost the power of coherent speech. All of her attention was concentrated on the core of her femaleness, being ministered to by her husband with darts of flame, pushing her ever closer to a completion she had never known before. Feeling as if her soul and body were on the knife-edge of being split in two, when that explosion came she realized that she was being forged in a conflagration that would join her to Bax.