"God, no," he rasped. "It's just so ... different."
Tess felt a cold stab of fear. She should have known, should have prepared for it. This was the one change a husband would notice for sure. "Oh. I ..."
He looked up at her, and in his eyes she saw all the love she could ever want, and more. "It's better," he said quietly.
He cupped her breasts in his hands and pushed the heavy mounds together. At his touch, desire blasted through her in a dizzying wave. Blood pounded in her ears until she couldn't hear anything except the thudding beat of her own heart. "Yes," she moaned. "Oh, yes."
His tongue breezed across one nipple, wetting it, and then was gone.
She moaned, arched her back. And he was there again, sucking gently on one nipple, then the other, until her body was shaking so badly, she couldn't control it. She couldn't catch her breath. She pressed downward, rubbed herself against his hardness until she was light-headed with need.
"Jack . . ." His name was a breathless moan. "Please ..."
His hands slid around to her back and moved to her buttocks. Clutching her with fingers of fire, he drew her downward as he thrust up. She spread her thighs farther and let him guide her onto him.
He pushed inside her, filled her. A whimper escaped her mouth at the unexpected pleasure of it.
He stilled. "Does that hurt?"
She shook her head. Sweat-dampened hair whipped across her face. "No. God, no. Don't stop."
He held her firmly against him and started to move. Slowly at first, then faster. With each upward thrust of his
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body, Tess gripped the pillows tighter, clenching her fingers around the puffy softness. Her hips ground against his. The pressure between her legs quivered, thrummed, grew so hot and throbbing, she felt tears prick her eyes. She whimpered, moaned, tossed her head, but nothing helped.
"Oh, God, Jack . .." She writhed atop him, desperate for release.
He pulled her toward him and buried his face in her breasts. She felt his tongue on her nipples, felt him take a hardened peak in his mouth. The sensation sent her into a tailspin of desire. She clutched his head in her shaking hands, holding him where he was. Her breath came in lung-searing gasps.
His hands moved urgently, almost roughly, across her breasts and along her flushed flesh. Tess squeezed her eyes shut and strained forward, panting, aching. "Oh, God, oh, God, oh, GodV
It burst upon her so suddenly, Tess screamed out. Wave after wave of intense pleasure went through her body. Tears stung her eyes, blurred her vision.
Jack thrust into her one last time, deep and hard. He clung to her, his breathing ragged, whispering her name against the crook of her neck.
Tess collapsed on top of him like a rag doll. Her body felt boneless, sapped of all strength, and there was a tremble in her legs she couldn't quell.
They lay there for a long time, panting, shaking with the aftermath of their passion. Jack held her close, stroked her hair. Tess curled lovingly against him, amazed at how comfortable it felt to be in his arms, how right.
He turned slowly toward her and pushed up on one elbow. "Lissa?"
She looked up into his eyes and felt a rush of love. Idly
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f
she brushed a sweat-dampened lock of hair from his eyes and smiled. "Uh-huh?"
He leaned down and kissed her. It was a soft, gentle kiss that spoke not of passion sated, but of promises made. Of futures and the kind of love that lasts. "I've loved you ever since I was in a kid in short pants, Lissa. But I have never, ever loved you as much as I do right now."
Hot, stinging tears filled Tess's eyes. A huge lump of emotion swelled in her throat, made it difficult to breathe. She knew she should simply say nothing at all, but she couldn't. There was something she had to say?she, Tess Gregory, not Amarylis Rafferty. If it caused problems, or required explanations, or screwed up the damn time-space continuum, she'd deal with that later. Right now she had to utter the words she'd waited all her life to say.
She touched his face, and wasn't surprised to find that her fingers were trembling. "When I was little, I used to dream of someone who would be all mine, someone who would hold my hand and check under the bed, and tell me the world was a safe place. Every night I wished on the moon and waited." She kissed him, tasting the salty tang of her own tears against his lips. "I love you, Jack Rafferty. I have ever since I was a little girl."
As she spoke the words, Tess realized the truth of them. She had loved Jack Rafferty since she was a child. She hadn't known what he'd look like, or where?or when? he'd live, but those were only details. All her life she'd waited for this moment, this man. He was the somebody she'd always prayed for and never really let herself believe in.
"Thanks, Carol," she breathed.
"What was that?" Jack asked.
Tess stifled a smile. "Nothing. Now, put those strong arms to good use and give me a hug."
Jack grinned. "I'd be happy to." And he did.
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The next week passed in a rosy-colored blur. Jack spent the days working hard, shearing sheep, and the nights camped out in neighboring barns. Tess spent her days cleaning the house, caring for Caleb, and playing with the girls. It didn't bother her much that Jack was gone during the day; her time was too full with the everyday chores of running a sheep ranch to miss him. But the nights were different. Longer.
After the dishes were cleaned and put away and Katie was done with her reading lessons, the night stretched out forever, dark and lonely and filled with subtle noises. She lay in her bed, thinking of Jack, dreaming of Jack, aching for Jack.
He heard Jim talking to him, but the words sounded a million miles away.
Jack rested his elbows on the canoe's thick rim and leaned slightly back, careful not to rock the boat. The hot spring sun beat down on his face and warmed his body, bringing a sheen of sweat to his brow. His hair hung heavily along the sides of his face.
He closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth of the sun. Tomorrow night he'd be coming home to his wife. Finally, after more than a week's worth of sleeping in barns and eating self-consciously at other people's tables, he'd be home. Home.
The word conjured a dozen welcome images: Lissa leading mealtime prayers, Katie reading slowly from her primer, Savannah offering her daddy a cautious, heartfelt smile, Lissa feeding chickens, Lissa in the bath, Lissa in their bed.
Lissa.
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He sighed, listening to the water slapping against the canoe. He couldn't remember when in his life he'd felt this good, this full of hope. For the first time in years, he was beginning to believe in himself again, and damn, it felt good.
"Jack? Jack?"
Jack came out of the pleasant daydream with a snap. "Uh, sorry, Jim. What were you saying?"
Jim brought the dripping paddle out of the water and laid it across the canoe in front of him. Letting out a tired breath, he shoved his hat back and grinned at Jack. "I said, it's your turn."
Jack reached across the bundles of yellowed fleece that represented most of his yearly income and grabbed the paddle. Straightening, he plunged the paddle in the water and maneuvered the canoe around, following Jim's course for the huge green hump of land in the distance, the island called Vancouver, where they'd sell their goods for winter supplies.
"You know, Jack, I'm not one for jabberin' a whole lot, but I've got to say, you've changed lately."
Jack squinted into the sun and drew his hat lower on his forehead. "Yeah, I s'pose I have."
Jack could tell that Jim was waiting for an explanation. He knew, too, that Jim would never ask.
Normally that would have been the end of it right there. Jack had spent years closing himself off from all human contact. With each year since the horror, he'd moved further and further into his shell, hoping that if he went deep enough, he couldn't hurt anybody, couldn't let anybody down.
But his efforts to protect his children had only hurt them more. The girl
s he loved more than life itself had never heard the words "I love you" from their own father.
He thought about the smile Savannah had given him
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when he'd complimented her painted curtain. It had been bright enough to blind him.
So much joy he'd given her, with so little effort. It pained him to think about it, to realize how little his children needed to be happy. And fool that he was, he had given them even less.
No more, he decided. No more lying and hiding and pretending not to care. He didn't want to live like that anymore. That day in the church he'd vowed to make a new start, and not only in his marriage. He'd vowed to begin again with his children, himself, his neighbors. To become the man he should have been for years.
He took a deep breath and dove into the cold, frightening waters of communication. "Lissa and I have had our problems in the past...." The surprise on Jim's face made Jack laugh out loud. His anxiety over talking disappeared. "Didn't expect me to say anything else, huh, Jim?"
"I've known you a long time, Jack, and frankly, it surprises me when you speak at all."
Jack nodded. "Yeah, I guess it would. Anyway, everything's going well with Lissa and me now."
Jim pulled a toothpick out of his pocket and wedged it between his teeth, moving it back and forth thoughtfully. "Nothin' like love to make a man smile." "Yeah. I ... I missed her this week." "Yep. Too bad we'll be gettin' back just in time for the first shearin' dance. I wouldn't mind spendin' the night curled up in bed with my wife."
Fear cut through Jack's new resolve. He stared out at the choppy blue waves, their peaks gilded by the bright sun. "I forgot about the dance." "You gonna go this time?"
"I don't 'spose I'd be too welcome after the Fourth of July dance."
"Aw, hell, Jack, that was almost a year ago. 'Sides, you
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put too much store in that one time. So you went a little bit crazy. So what? Hector Jones has done a hell of a lot worse after a little too much whiskey. Give yourself a chance."
Give yourself a chance.
Jack's fingers tightened around the paddle. The wood felt warm and slick; the whooshing slap of the waves against the sides of the boat seemed thunderous in his ears.
"Lissa and the girls would sure like to go." He said the thought aloud, testing it.
Jim leaned back, dangling his arms over the side of the canoe. "I'm sure they would. Hell, Minerva and Lissa are probably figurin' out what to wear right now."
Jack imagined the look on Lissa's face when he told her they were going to the dance. An anticipatory smile pulled at his lips.
A new start was a new start.
Tess shifted her weight, moving Katie slightly to the left on her lap. In front of them, on the kitchen table, McGuffey's First Eclectic Reader lay open. Pale, throbbing candlelight splashed across its yellowed pages.
"What's that letter, Katie?" Tess murmured tiredly, pointing to the first letter of the sentence.
Katie plopped her elbows on the table and cradled her chin in one hand. "I think it's a-b. Or a-d."
Tess smoothed the back of her hair. "Here, watch." Carefully she drew a big picture of a B in the air.
Katie watched intently, frowning. "Is it a B?"
"Very good. Now, what's next?"
Tess lifted her now blurry gaze from the reader and glanced into the living room. Savannah was sitting on the sofa, hunched over her old linsey-woolsey dress.
"How's it coming, Savannah?" she asked quietly.
Savannah lifted her head. Even from this distance, Tess
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could tell that the girl's eyes were bloodshot. "Not so good. This dress ain't?"
"Isn't," Tess corrected automatically.
Savannah sighed. "This dress isn't ever gonna look good."
Tess felt a pang of empathy. She knew how important it was for a young girl to look good at her first dance, but there was nothing Tess could do. She couldn't sew a stitch, and besides, there wasn't any fabric or any time. They didn't even know for sure if Jack would let them attend the dance.
"I wish there was something I could do to help...." Savannah's hand fell in her lap. She looked across the room at Tess. "You ... you really think Daddy's gonna let
us go?"
Tess licked her lips nervously. "I hope so, Savannah. But there's something ... different about how your daddy feels about this. I think he's scared, and I don't want to push him too hard."
Savannah's mouth turned down in a pitiful frown. "Yeah, I know."
Tess tried to force a bright smile. "But you never know, kiddo. Strange goings-on have been happening around here."
Savannah gave a forlorn sigh and went back to her sewing. "I don't know how to dance anyhow. Probably make a fool of myself."
Tess stared at Savannah. She was working so hard on her dress, trying desperately to make it ready in time, and yet she had no hope that they were even going. No hope at all.
Please, Jack, Tess prayed, don't let her down. Please ...
The next evening, Jack returned to the island, his pockets filled with money, and Jim Hannah's barn filled with the supplies they'd traded for the fleece.
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From the road, he stared down at the house. It lay like a perfect white pearl amidst the darkening twilight.
He clutched the packages to his chest and began to run. His bootheels crunched through the rock and dirt road, his breathing sped up. That ridiculous smile came back to his face, and he couldn't?didn't want to?shake it free.
Panting and out of breath, he rounded the last corner and sprinted toward the house, bounding up the sagging slatted steps and bursting into the warm, golden kitchen.
"Jack!" Lissa whirled around at his entrance. Her face revealed first shock, then a joy that matched his own. She picked up her skirts and ran for him, throwing herself into
his arms. .
It was the greeting Jack had waited for all his life. He dropped his packages and bear-hugged her, twirling her around and around in the warm, mutton-and-potato-scented kitchen.
"Oh, Jack," she whispered, gazing up into his eyes, "I
missed you."
He kissed her full, pink lips, and when he did, he felt as if a very special, very important part of him had just been given life. "I missed you, too."
"Daddy!" Katie came running into the room, her skirts hiked up to her knees. She flung herself into the hug, and the three of them whirled around, laughing.
Jack smoothed the tangled hair from Katie's face and planted a kiss on her flushed cheek. "Hi, little Katydid. I missed you."
She gave him a bright, gap-toothed grin that twisted his heart. "I missed you, too, Daddy. Know what?"
"What?"
"Mama burnt supper tonight." Her voice dropped to a giggly whisper. "Really bad."
Jack tried valiantly to remain serious. His mouth
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twitched traitorously. "Really? Well, we'll have to do something about that."
Lissa looked up at him. There was a fire in her eyes that made his blood turn searingly hot. She pressed a hand to his shoulder. "What sort of ... thing did you have in mind?"
He licked his lips. His eyes glittered with promise. "I don't know. We'll have to think of something ... fitting. Something that teaches you how to put out a fire."
She smiled. Her hand slid down from his shoulder and moved dangerously close to his groin. "I'll have to build one first."
He laughed. "Shouldn't be any problem there." Lissa laughed and slipped her hand in his. He loosened his hold on Katie and let her glide down his body to the floor. Her feet hit with a click of heels.
Savannah came around the corner, her schoolbooks clutched to her chest. "Mama, I?" She saw Jack and froze. The smile slid from her face. "Daddy." She started to come toward him, then paused. The hands around her books curled into taut fists.
Jack felt her hesitation like a blow. Savannah, of all of them, would be the
most difficult. She'd seen so many of his little failures, so much of his weakness. She'd been afraid of him for most of her life.
The realization was like a burning coal in the pit of his stomach. How the hell did a man say I'm sorry to an innocent child? And was an apology enough? Could years of neglect be simply forgiven?
Jack swallowed thickly, wishing he were the kind of man who could make glib statements of sentiment. He wanted to say, ached to say, Hi, Savannah, I missed you. But the words were a lump of regret in his throat. He knew they wouldn't be enough; not for Savannah, whose youthful eyes had seen too much, whose young heart he
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had broken. He had to show her, every day, in every way, that he was sorry. And most of all, that he loved her with all his heart.
"Hi, Vannah," he said quietly, using the pet name he hadn't used since she was a toddler.
She blinked in surprise. Her hold on the schoolbooks relaxed a little. "H-Hi, Daddy."
"I brought presents," he said lamely.
"You did?" three feminine voices said at once.
Jack stooped down and picked up the three brown-paper-wrapped packages. He handed little ones to Katie and Lissa, and a big one to Savannah.
All three of them hurried to the kitchen table and began ripping at the twine bows. The crinkling sound of folding paper and giggling girls filled the kitchen.
Katie sidled alongside Lissa in a wordless bond that caused a small ache to form in Jack's chest. The child's pudgy pink fingers worked feverishly on the thin twine bow and then yanked back the brown wrapping paper. Three bright red grosgrain ribbons lay tangled alongside a beautiful doll.
Katie squealed in delight and clutched the treasure to her chest. She hopped excitedly for a second, then twirled and threw herself into Jack's arms.
"Thank you, Daddy, oh, thank you."
Jack coiled his arms around her in a fierce, loving hug. "You're welcome, baby," he said in a thick voice. "Jack!"
At Lissa's awed whisper, he brought his head up and looked at his wife.
Lissa eased the beautiful silver and pearl necklace from the paper and held it up into the candlelight. "Oh, Jack, it's beautiful."