Promise Me Texas (A Whispering Mountain Novel) (26 page)

CHAPTER 34

A
NDREW HELD
B
ETH’S HAND AS HE STOOD AT THE
door to the cabin and waved good-bye to Benjamin. He had little use for the man, but tonight he said, “Nice of the father to bring us home.”

From what he’d gathered and guessed, the boys’ father had spent his life pretending, either on stage or in some kind of scam he might play. Only this evening, the man had done him a favor. Beth was here in the cabin for the night, and he was steady enough on his feet to chase her.

As the wagon disappeared, Beth jabbed him hard in the ribs. “Did you put the priest up to this?” she teased.

“Me? No. It was all his idea.” Since the day he’d pushed her away and told her to sleep at the main house, he’d regretted it. Logic had convinced him she’d be safer there. He’d had no idea how lonely being without her would be. “We’ve spent many a night together, dear. I’m sure we can survive another.” This playlike marriage was about to end, and he wanted to pile up as many memories as possible.

To his surprise, she smiled that knowing smile women have when they see into the future.

“How about we just enjoy being together tonight?” He told himself that would be enough—well, maybe together with a few good-night kisses.

“I think I’d like that. What do we do first?”

“A walk in the moonlight. I’ve discovered a path in those trees.”

Before he finished speaking, she tugged back on her knit hat. Without a word they walked along the stream by the cabin. The air was still and cold as if all the world had paused just for them. When they finally talked, it was in whispers, as if neither wanted to disturb the air. He told her of growing up among strangers in private schools, first in New England and later in Europe. She told him of her childhood here, and he would have traded for her memories in a second if he could have.

She talked of her family, mentioning her sister’s husband. Her uncle Travis had found him as a little boy tied up like a dog in a raiders’ camp. He’d taken him in and they’d called him Duck. As he grew, he’d changed into Duncan but he never knew his past. When finally he got a letter with information, he never opened it. By then, his past didn’t matter, only his future did.

Andrew stared down at her. “You think it could be that way with us?”

She shook her head. “I think it
is
that way with us. You’re the man I’ve always looked for. The one man who sees me.”

When they returned to the cabin, he built up the fire while she moved about the kitchen. He lit the lantern and began to read her the story he was working on about a little boy who thought he was the marshal of his family farm. He investigated an egg theft and rounded up outlaws who disguised themselves as pigs.

Beth laughed as she listened, drawing closer to him until her hand rested on his shoulder.

He almost lost his place in the story as she pressed her hip against his arm. The nearness of her felt so good. When he set the story aside, he pulled her down into his lap.

For a moment he just stared at her, and then he had to act. Without asking or talking it over, he kissed her deeply and completely, pulling her into the heaven he’d been longing for all day.

When she ended the kiss and stood, he didn’t try to stop her. Making love to her was something he didn’t want to talk her into.

“Andrew,” she said as she stood just out of his reach, “I need to see your wound.”

He brushed his leg where she’d been sitting. “You didn’t hurt it, Bethie. It’s healed. Don’t worry about me.”

“I need to see where the bullet went in.” The stubborn streak he knew so well was back.

He stood, tugged off his boots, and unbuckled his trousers. Both pairs of his cotton long johns had been cut above the wound those first few days so Sage could doctor it. Since he had no others, Andrew was still wearing them, though all the blood had been washed away in the laundry. “When I get to town I’ll buy some more underwear.” Right now he was thankful for even the cut pair as he dropped his pants.

“I could—” she began.

“No. That’s one thing a man would rather buy for himself. Don’t you dare tell your mother to pick me up some—or worse, let that old man, Elmo, at the trading post choose my clothing.”

She knelt before him and brushed her fingers over the small scab halfway between his hip and knee.

Her touch almost buckled his legs. It was so familiar, and he knew without asking that she’d brushed his leg many times in those first few hours after Sage had cut the bullet out. The doctor had given him something to help him sleep, but still he’d felt Beth’s touch.

As he stood silent, she moved her hand over the tight muscle of his leg as if making sure he was well. Slowly, she traveled higher than he thought was necessary to simply check the wound, but he wasn’t about to complain.

She leaned close as her fingers brushed along his leg in a gentle caress. “You’re scared because of me.”

“It doesn’t matter, Beth,” he whispered, thinking her touch was branding him far deeper than any scar.

She stood and unbuttoned his shirt. As she spread it open, her fingers touched the scar at his throat. He forgot to breathe as she kissed his throat. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered against his skin still wet from her kiss.

He snapped like dry wood struck by lightning and pulled her mouth to his. She might be worrying about scrapes and cuts on his body; didn’t she know that she had healed his heart?

At first she held back, not pulling away, but not completely relaxing. His hand molded over her as his mouth showed her how dearly he needed her. When she finally melted against him, out of breath and liquid in his arms, he lifted her, taking her with him into the shadows.

Moving the few feet to his bed, he laid her atop the pile of boxes and newspapers. “Now it’s my turn to check you for scars.”

“I don’t have any.” She laughed as she shoved the mail aside and tried to scramble off the bed.

“I’ll have to make sure.” He tugged her back and began unbuttoning her blouse.

She leaned back, letting him have his way without protest. “Oh, all right, but you won’t find any.”

He kissed his way down her throat. “I need you so much,” he said, forgetting everything but her nearness.

“I know. I haven’t been able to sleep without you.” She began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and pushing it from his shoulders. “I need to feel you near me.”

When he moved closer, she whispered, “Against me. Touching me. Loving me.”

He kissed along her body as he undressed her and gave her what she wanted. Returning to her lips, he asked as he kissed her mouth, teasing it open, “You won’t shoot me if I pull the ribbons free tonight? It’s time we stopped playing, Beth, and started feeling.”

She didn’t answer, but lay back, her eyes closed, as he pulled open the ribbons of her camisole one by one.

The sight of her took his breath away. She was so beautiful and she was waiting for him to love her. It seemed there had been no great storm of passion that consumed them, but a gentle rain that brought them together. She was here, in his bed, wanting him as much as he wanted her. All the reasons no longer mattered. This night would be only him and her. This night they’d make a memory that would hold true all their lives.

He moved his fingers over her, loving the way he made her feel almost as dearly as he loved touching her. When he looked in her eyes, he saw passion and need and . . . love. He also saw Beth, his Beth, the strong woman she was, the one woman he’d dreamed of touching like this.

Even as he kissed his way over every part of her, he knew she was giving him not just the gift of her body but of her love. She’d said she loved him once. She might never say it again, but once was enough.

He spread his hand wide and moved it slowly down from her throat, feeling across her soft breasts, sliding across her flat stomach and lower into the warmth between her legs.

“What do you want from me?” he whispered against her cheek. He was on the edge of insanity and needed her to say the words before he fell completely off.

“I want you to love me,” she answered in a soft cry. “I want it to be real between us.”

She wanted to be loved, and if he couldn’t say the words, he’d do his best to show her how he felt. He claimed her mouth, catching her moans in a deep kiss as his hand began to please her. She crossed over into passion with him, hungry for more, but he didn’t break the kiss, not until he moved above her. Then he held her gaze, wild with hunger and need as he entered her.

She cried out softly in pain, but he didn’t stop and she didn’t turn away. In the firelight shadows he watched her newborn obsession rise. Other times, they would make love in darkness with eyes closed, but this time, this first time, he wanted to see into her soul as they mated.

His chest lowered against her breasts and she shook with pleasure, then whispered his name as he felt her body relax. Only then did he find his own pleasure. As the world rocked, he held her so tightly he feared he might have hurt her.

When finally he was able to speak, he whispered, “Are you all right?”

She rolled against him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been better.”

They laughed and teased and caressed as the night aged. Andrew had never felt so complete.

Finally, she took his hand and wrapped it between her breasts. “Good night, my love,” she mumbled, already asleep.

He closed his eyes, drifting with all the feeling. As he fell asleep, Beth filled his dreams just as she filled his reality.

Sometime deep into the night, he felt her patting him and left one dream for another. Beth in his bed.

“That was wonderful.” She sat up, pulling the covers with her. “Does it always feel so good?”

“No. I think we’ll get better with practice.” Even in the shadows she was so beautiful he had trouble thinking. “Shouldn’t we be asleep?”

“No, I woke up and had questions, so, since you’re the only one who can answer them, I had to wake you up too.”

He smiled. Still spoiled rotten; at least she hadn’t changed. “All right, ask away.”

“So, it really gets better?” She didn’t sound like she believed him.

Andrew leaned close and molded the sheet over one of her breasts.

“How soon can we practice again, Andrew?” She pushed his hand away.

“Practice what?” he said as he slipped his fingers beneath the sheet and captured her breast. He knew she would be tender, but the slight ache would be sweet with memory, so he molded her flesh and felt her breathing quicken.

“That’s a good start, Andrew. A very good start.”

“Beth.” He loved the way her velvet curves brushed against him, begging him for more. “People don’t talk about this. Not before and certainly not afterward.”

“Why not?” she asked. “I loved it when your mouth covered my breast the same time you—”

He ended the discussion with a kiss. A long, deep kiss, that she was more than ready for. Her hunger for more both surprised and delighted him.

When he finally kissed his way across her cheek to her ear, he whispered, “If you’ll stop talking we could start practicing again.”

She shook her head and pulled away. Without a word, she wrapped a quilt around her and crossed the room. When she returned with her brush, she sat on the end of the bed and brushed away the tangles in her hair.

The sight of her reflected in firelight almost stopped his heart. As she raised her arms, the quilt dropped to just below her breasts. “I’ll come to you when I’m ready,” she finally said, “but I’ll tell you the truth first.”

He waited, feeling the need for her building again, twice as strong as before. At this rate, she’d kill him, for he wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough of this woman.

“Andrew,” she said, pulling the blanket higher, “I love you. Not the kind of love people talk about after meeting, but the forever kind. I know you don’t want to love me, but I can’t help loving you. I’ll not try to stop you when you go, but whether you are with me or not, I’ll not stop loving you.”

He felt like his heart lodged in his throat and he couldn’t say a word. He watched as she stood, dropped the quilt, and moved beneath the covers. Curling against him, she drifted off to sleep as if her confession had totally relaxed her.

He brushed her hair away from her face and wrapped it around his hand. For a while, he let his mind float backward in time to the months he’d been with Hannah. She’d been shy and needy for attention, but never passion. For the first time, he saw her clearly. She hadn’t loved him as completely as he’d loved her. There had been times she’d agreed to sex, but he wasn’t sure she’d liked it and she’d never spoken of it. They’d both wanted to be a family, but she’d only said she loved him when he’d asked. She’d never just declared it as a proclamation, asking nothing in return.

Beth had been open, even letting him watch her body as she combed her hair. He’d enjoyed mating. Even now, in sleep, she cuddled against him as if waiting for him to catch up with her and do it again. In all the mix of stories she’d told, first to save him and then to save herself, he’d learned her and he knew that this one time she hadn’t lied. She truly loved him.