“Because you’ll never get them off of me if you’re bossy and overbearing.”
Matthew threw back his head and barked with laughter. Then he set himself to the task of getting the damned bloomers off her so they could make sweet, passionate love. He feared she might feel shy. It was broad daylight, after all, and they weren’t far from the house. But as always, Eden settled in his arms without hesitation. He teased the sensitive spot just below her ear, then feathered kisses downward, unfastening her bodice as he went. She gasped and shivered when his mouth closed over her nipple. Then she made fists in his hair as if she feared he would stop.
Because they might get uninvited company, Matthew decided he should probably leave the bloomers alone, and her dress as well. He satisfied himself with slipping a hand under her skirt to find the slit in her underwear and brought her to climax without disrobing her. When the moment came to bury his shaft in her moist sheath, he only opened his fly.
Then he hesitated. “If you’re pregnant, is it safe to do this?”
She smiled dreamily up at him. “Women can make love all through their pregnancies. It’s fine, Matthew.”
Nevertheless he entered her carefully and gentled his thrusts. Even so, the pleasure they shared was intense and indescribably beautiful. Home. He realized now that home wasn’t a place. Home, for him, was in this woman’s arms.
Afterward, as they lay spent in the shade of the oak, Matthew gazed up at the gnarly branches, thinking that a life had once ended here.
And now another one had begun.
Eden and Matthew’s second wedding ceremony took place the following afternoon in Ace and Caitlin’s sitting room. Hannibal St. John, the preacher at No Name’s community church, officiated at the ceremony. Only family members were in attendance.
As she and Matthew exchanged vows, Eden gazed up at his dear face, thinking that, in a different way, both of them had closed the door on their pasts. Matthew had left behind a host of terrible memories, and she was finally laying her real father, Connor O’Shannessy, to rest. In Oregon, her striking resemblance to Caitlin would no longer matter. Her flame red hair would no longer mark her as a bastard. She would never have to worry again that someone might discover her secret or that her mother might suffer for it.
After the ceremony ended, Eden and Matthew cut the cake that Dory and Caitlin had slaved half the night to bake and decorate. Ace brought in a container of ice cream that he’d purchased in town and kept frozen in a tub of ice. When everyone had enjoyed the sweets and toasted the newlyweds with champagne, Eden and Matthew opened their gifts and then exchanged personal ones that they’d purchased for each other. He’d gotten her a locket. On the inside of the cover, he’d had the jeweler engrave the words, To Eden, the love of my life, Matthew, followed by the date.
With specific instructions, Eden had sent David to town to select her gift for her husband. When Matthew opened the small package and saw a gold pocket watch, he smiled. Then he turned it over, read the inscription, and got tears in his eyes. Eden had duplicated the words on his other watch, now buried somewhere in the wilds of southern Colorado. But the date and the name now following the promise were different. Love Always, Matthew. Forever Yours, Eden, 1890.
He ran his thumb over the words, looked deeply into her eyes, and then slipped it into his pocket. “I’ll carry it with me always.”
Eden knew he truly would, but he’d never feel sad when he checked the time. She planned to be around until he was a very old man. She hugged his waist and thanked him for the beautiful locket, knowing he’d spent money for it that he could ill afford.
David spoke up just then. “I know I gave you table linen, but I brought along another wedding gift I think both of you will appreciate even more.”
Leaning against her husband, Eden smiled at her brother. “The table linen is gorgeous, David, and it must have cost you dearly. Whatever else you bought, please take it back.”
David grinned. “It’s not a gift I bought, little sister. It’s news I received early this morning by telegraph. The Sebastians were caught by a posse three days ago in southern Colorado. They’ll go to trial in two weeks.”
Eden glanced up at Matthew. A stunned expression had settled on his dark face. “You’re sure?”
David nodded. “Came straight from the marshal who apprehended them and is holding them in jail. I wired him back to see if your testimony as witnesses will be required at the trials. He says that’s entirely up to you.” David directed his gaze to Eden. “If you want the satisfaction of having them tried for the acts of kidnapping and assault that they committed against you, then you’ll have to file formal charges and testify at each trial. If you prefer not to do that, there are so many other counts against them and innumerable witnesses to ensure a guilty verdict that they’ll probably be hanged. If not, they’ll be in prison for life. No matter what you decide, their reign of terror is officially over.”
Eden looked questioningly at Matthew. “What do you think I should do?”
Matthew grinned. “You heard your brother. They’re finished. I think you should put all of it behind you and start living the rest of your life—with me.”
Eden laughed and went up on her tiptoes to hug Matthew’s strong neck. “Of all our beautiful wedding presents, that one is the very best! They’ve been caught, Matthew! They’ve been caught!”
He wrapped both arms around her and buried his face in the lee of her neck. “Thank God. I can scarcely believe it. I was starting to think this day would never come.”
“It’s high time,” Ace said, lifting his champagne glass. “A toast, Matthew.”
Matthew loosened one arm from around Eden to pick up his flute. Joseph stepped over to refill it. Throat working, his eyes warm on Eden’s, Matthew said, “To justice. They’re finally going to pay for their sins. I’ll sleep better at night, knowing that.”
Eden smiled as Matthew touched the crystal rim to her lips. “To justice,” she murmured. “I’ll sleep better at night, too, Matthew. They’ll never harm anyone else.” As her husband set the flute aside, she went up on her tiptoes to hug his neck again. “Another miracle,” she whispered. “God has sent us another miracle.”
As Matthew returned her embrace, she sighed and leaned into him, knowing without a doubt that she was exactly where she belonged and where she always hoped to be: in Matthew Coulter’s arms.
Epilogue
Oregon
June 12, 1891
The afternoon sunlight warmed Eden’s shoulders. The scents of wildflowers and field clover drifted on the gentle breeze that tousled the curls at her temples. Holding her three-month-old daughter, Olivia, in the crook of one arm, she crouched to tug weeds from the first Olivia’s grave. As she worked, she smiled softly, thinking of Matthew. He was happy now and loved their little girl so much that he could barely focus on work. Several times each day, he abandoned his chores and returned to the house to play with the baby. Eden scolded, but didn’t really mean it. It was wonderful to see the joy on his face when he took their child into his arms.
Eden trailed her fingertips over the words chiseled into the granite headstone. Baby Coulter. It made her sad knowing that Matthew’s first child had never gotten a chance to experience life.
When Livvy’s resting place was tidied, Eden moved through the small cemetery to pull weeds that had sprouted up around Matthew’s grandparents’ head-stones. Family. In this place, Eden felt a sense of connection with the Coulters that ran bone-deep. During the time she’d been in Oregon, she’d come to love Matthew Senior and Hattie. They were kind, honest, and hardworking people with keen minds and good senses of humor. Eden had also forged strong relationships with Matthew’s sisters and brothers. Though she sometimes missed her own family, the moments were fleeting. She and Matthew planned to visit Colorado in September, when Olivia would be old enough to travel by train. Eden looked forward to the trip, but she would be just as glad to return to Oregon. It was home to her now.
“What are you doing?”
Eden started erect. “Matthew, you scared me out of ten years’ growth.”
He stood outside the iron gate, booted feet set wide apart, arms crossed. Though they’d been married for many months now, Eden’s heart still caught when she looked at him, and it probably always would. He was, without question, the handsomest man she’d ever seen.
“You wouldn’t scare so easy if you spent less time in this graveyard.”
Eden brushed her hand clean on her apron. “I thought you were working.”
His blue gaze held hers. The mischievous grin that touched his firm mouth made her pulse start to race. “I finished up and decided to take the rest of the afternoon off. It’s a gorgeous day. I’d like to spend what remains of it with my beautiful wife and daughter. I thought we might go for a picnic at the creek.”
“A picnic? I have no food prepared.”
He extended a hand to her. “I’ll help. It doesn’t have to be fancy.”
Eden moved toward him. When she reached the gate, he bent his head to settle his mouth over hers. The kiss was long and deep, filling her with contentment and yearning, both at once. “Say yes,” he whispered.
With a laugh, Eden said, “Telling you no is the challenge.”
He collected his daughter from the crook of her arm. “Come on, then. Let’s go up to the house and fill the picnic basket.”
Settling Olivia in the bend of his left arm, he unlatched the gate, took Eden’s hand, and drew her from the enclosure. She looped her arm around his waist as they crossed the field, loving the way his lean leg bumped against her hip as they walked. The chickens clucked and scattered when Matthew and Eden reached the front yard. Eden hadn’t gotten a dog yet, but a neighboring farmer had puppies almost old enough to wean, and Eden had been promised pick of the litter. She had her eye on a darling coal black male with a white spot on its forehead.
Once inside the cabin, she and Matthew set to work filling the basket. When Matthew drew a bottle of homemade corn whiskey from the cupboard, Eden regarded him with upraised eyebrows. “What’s the occasion?”
He winked at her. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
After hooking up the buckboard and parking it out front, Matthew came back in the house to strap on his gun belt. He also fetched his Winchester. Whenever they went to their special place along the creek—a different location from the one he’d once shared with Olivia—he never failed to take his weapons.
“Grab a couple of blankets,” he said, lifting the baby from her cradle.
“A couple?”
“One for Livvy and one for us.” He sent her a teasing look. “After we eat, I want to hold my wife in my arms and watch the clouds drift by. Think of it as my own special kind of dessert.”
Eden laughed. “Apple pie isn’t enough?”
“Not when I can hold you.”
The wagon ride to the creek was lovely. Eden held Olivia in her right arm so she could lean into her husband as he drove the team. When they reached the bend in the creek, Matthew reined the horses to a stop, set the brake, and leaped from the wagon. He took the baby and then helped Eden from the conveyance.
Within minutes, they’d spread one blanket in the shade of an old oak and created a soft pallet for the sleeping baby with the other. As Eden sat beside her husband, she dragged in a deep breath of the warm summer air, enjoying the scents that drifted on the breeze—the piney ponderosas and the sweet alfalfa and wildflowers. The stream gurgled merrily as it surged over rocks. Birds twittered above them in the branches of the tree.
Hugging her knees, Eden sighed. “Oh, Matthew, what a great idea this was. I’m so glad you brought me.”
He plucked the whiskey from the basket and set to work pulling the cork. Eden fished for the pot of coffee and cups she’d thought to bring. As he mixed them each a drink, both laced with cream, she studied his expression.
“It’s not often that you quit work early and indulge in spirits. I’m dying of curiosity. What is the special occasion?”
He grinned and drew a thick fold of paper from inside his shirt. “I have something to show you. Nothing set in stone. You’ll probably want to make changes. But I’ve been working on the plans for our house.”
As he spread out the paper and smoothed away the creases, Eden leaned close to study the drawings. “A parlor?” she asked incredulously.
“Of course.”
“And a study? Matthew, we can’t afford anything so grand as this. Six bedrooms? It would be huge.”
“I plan to fill those bedrooms, and I want to give my wife the home she deserves.”
Tears stung Eden’s eyes. “I don’t need a grand house, Matthew. If you add some bedrooms onto the cabin, I’ll be perfectly happy.”
“I won’t be, though.” He took a sip of his Irish coffee and then gestured at the endless stretches of ponderosa pine that surrounded them. “It’ll be a log structure, honey, and we have plenty of trees. Next week, Hoyt’s going to help me fell them. They’ll be seasoned enough by next spring to start construction.” He searched her face. “I thought you’d be happy.”
Eden held her cup aside to lean forward and kiss him. “I am happy. It’ll be a lovely house. I just don’t want you to think you have to build it.”
“I know I don’t have to, honey. I want to.” He tapped the drawing. “Study the layout. Put your own stamp on it. I want it to be a house that suits you in every way.”
Eden set her cup on the blanket to better peruse the plans. “Oh, Matthew, it’s perfect just as it is.” She glanced up at him, imagining their children growing up within those walls, Olivia and several brothers and sisters. She wanted a large family and so did Matthew. “I love it.”
“Not as much as you love me, I hope.”
“Never. I love you more than anyone or anything.”
He smiled and lightly touched their daughter’s curly dark hair. “In my special corner of your heart?” His smile deepened. “I finally get that, you know. I love our baby so much that it almost hurts.” His gaze shifted to Eden’s. “And yet I love you more than life itself. It’s a mystery, isn’t it, how limitless our capacity for love can be?”
Eden cupped a palm to his scarred cheek. “It is a mystery,” she agreed. “A profound mystery.”
He dipped his head to kiss her. Corn whiskey slopped over the edge of his cup. They broke apart and laughed. Then their smiles faded as they looked deeply into each other’s eyes as only lovers do.
“Meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered.
“Same for me.”
“No, I mean it. You gave me a reason to want to live again.”
He set his cup beside hers. The spirits forgotten, they lay back, wrapped in each other’s arms. Dappled sunlight played over them. The creek sang in the background. The music of the birds played through Eden’s mind. Breathing deeply of the flower-scented air, she could think of nowhere on earth she’d rather be. Even lovelier, she could think of no better way to spend the rest of her life.
Catherine Anderson, Early Dawn
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