He then looked at Neil. “I can’t spare anybody to babysit you or protect you, and I doubt you’re strong enough to ride all the way out to my place where I can look after you, so you’ll have to stay here. You got to give me your word that you won’t run off while this storm is going on.”
Neil looked his friend in the eye. “You have it.”
“Good. Then take this just in case,” Chase tossed Neil his gun belt.
Neil caught it deftly.
Olivia’s voice was concerned. “If the situation is that dangerous, maybe I need to be at the mayor’s desk in case—”
Chase tossed back, “In case what? In case the cyclone flies you to Topeka? No,” he countered firmly. “Stay here.”
She started to protest.
Chase cut her off and turned to Neil. “She is not to leave the house. If you have to sit on her, do it. Olivia, you are so much like my wife sometimes, it scares me. Let’s go, Spinsters. I’m escorting you home.”
Rachel and Daisy gave Olivia hugs good-bye. They were about to head to their buggy when Rachel stopped and said to Neil, “We are all expecting you to conduct yourself like a gentleman with our mayor, Mr. July.”
“I will, ma’am.”
Daisy said, “And if anyone asks, we were here with you, Olivia. You know how folks like to talk, but your cellar isn’t large enough for four, and ours isn’t either.”
Olivia nodded.
Chase said, “Come on, ladies. We’ll get our lies in a row after the storm.”
With a wave, the Two Spinsters drove off across the grass. Chase stayed behind for a few seconds and held Neil’s eyes for a long, speaking moment. Seemingly satisfied, he turned his mount and galloped to catch up with the buggy.
Olivia had seen the exchange and asked curiously, “What was that all about?”
“He was telling me the same thing the Spinsters did. Only a bit firmer.”
“I see.” Knowing she might be alone with him for hours made Olivia as aware of him as she was of the thunder that could be heard grumbling off in the distance.
Neil’s awareness of her was just as acute; he wanted to kiss her like a man home from war, but they had preparations to take care of first. Chase would hang him personally if the Madam Mayor wound up in Topeka.
Olivia said, “Let’s get you in the cellar, then I’ll fetch candles and things.”
“I can help.” The male in him refused to be treated like an invalid even if he was still almost one.
The grasses were bowing and scraping, and lightning flashed across the eerie, green-black sky. The wind was loud enough to be heard, and Olivia knew she didn’t have time for male ego. She handed him the lantern she kept on the porch and said over the wind, “Hold that, I’ll be right back.”
Neil looked down at the small light. He turned to tell her that he could certainly carry more than that, but she’d already disappeared into the house.
Inside, Olivia ignored the wind-whipped curtains standing out like flags and hastily grabbed up some candles and matches. In the bedroom, she threw open her cedar chest and snatched out a blanket. She also grabbed a pillow from the bed and hurried outside to the sound of booming thunder.
Olivia handed Neil the bundle of goods. She knelt and lifted the heavy door that led to the underground cellar. “You go first,” she said. “There are five steps to the bottom.”
Neil was glad for the information because it was as dark as Hades inside and he couldn’t see a thing. It took Olivia three tries to light the lantern in the wind, but once it caught, she handed it to him. “Take this.”
Neil smiled. “Remind me to keep you around.”
She chuckled, “Will you go on.”
He started down the steps, and she ran back to the house.
For a moment, he stood there astonished that she was not going to follow him down, but, shaking his head, he began his descent.
Once on solid ground again, Neil waved the lantern around to see what he could see. He saw jars of put-up fruit and vegetables resting on shelves carved into the earth. There was a bag labeled Potatoes leaning against the wall, and in the corner a small cot rested on a short-legged wooden frame. On the floor beside the cot stood a large lantern. The space was a twin of most root cellars he’d seen, but he’d never used one to ride out a storm.
Walking haltingly, he went over to the cot and sat down. He was not as strong as he wanted to be yet, so he needed to catch his breath. The sound of something hitting the ground startled him. A sheet wrapped around he knew not what lay at the bottom of the earthen steps. He assumed Olivia had tossed it down ahead of her descent, so he waited for her to appear and reveal the contents.
She showed herself only a few moments later. “I hope I thought of everything. We may be down here just a short while, or it may be until morning.”
He nodded, loving the sight of her.
Outside, the wind was howling like a banshee. Olivia grabbed onto the rope suspended from the heavy open door, then, using all of her strength, she pulled the rope until the door slammed shut. It was so quiet that, had it not been for the light of the lanterns, the space could have passed for a tomb. She knelt to unwrap the two sheets and pulled out the items she’d brought along.
Neil watched, then laughed. “You brought a ham?”
“It was in the icebox and we may get hungry.”
Neil was hungry all right, but not for food.
Olivia could see the glitter in his eyes, and she hastily went back to unpacking. When she was done, she lit a few of the candles to help the lanterns beat back the gloom.
Neil asked, “Won’t the candles burn up all the air?”
She shook her head. “There are pipes in the ceiling that lead to the ground above us. The ’dusters got the ideas from the stovepipes they used in their dugouts.”
When the founders had settled Henry Adams, they hadn’t had time to build homes before winter arrived that first year, so most had lived underground in dwellings called dugouts. Rachel once told Olivia that the settlers preferred living underground in Kansas to living above ground in the Redemptionist South.
Neil took the lantern by the cot and peered up into the shadowy ceiling, but it was too dark to see the pipes.
Olivia said reassuringly, “Don’t worry. They’re there.”
Neil took her word for it.
Where once there was silence, they could now hear rain pelting the door like rocks.
“Hail,” Olivia said.
Neil nodded. “Good size too, from the sounds of it.”
For the last few days they’d both been pining to spend some time together, and now that it was here they were both a bit awkward—especially Olivia. Her reputation would be in shreds should it ever become known that she’d ridden out the storm with him. Alone. But since she had no control over that now, she decided to enjoy his company. “Where were you on your way to when Malloy shot you?”
“Is that who shot me?”
“Yes. You didn’t know?”
“No. I guess I was so busy recovering, and you all were so busy taking care of me, that no one mentioned it. Wait until I get my hands on that little bug.”
“Shooting you in the back didn’t make him many friends.”
“Well, he’s going to wish he had a few when I’m done with him.” He went silent for a moment, then said, “Malloy, huh?”
Outside, they could hear the muffled screams of the ferocious winds. The rain and hail hadn’t let up either. The flames of the candles danced crazily in response to the gushes of air pushed down the pipes by the storm, but they didn’t go out.
Neil eyed her standing in the center of the dirt floor. “You’re going to get awful tired standing up like that. Come sit, I won’t bite unless you ask me to….”
Chapter 10
The tone of his voice set Olivia reeling. Her nipples tightened shamelessly, and the pulse between her thighs came to life. Her wish to be with him had finally come true, and she was so overcome that she couldn’t
move.
“I promise not to compromise you in any way, Olivia, but I want to kiss you so bad, it hurts.”
The lure in him drew her across the floor to the cot. There, in the candlelit darkness, trying to keep her breathing even, she stopped before him and beheld the man who filled her with emotions she didn’t quite understand. Seemingly of its own accord, her hand rose to cup his bearded cheek, and his skin trembled. That surprised her—that he could be so stirred by her inexperienced touch. Emboldened, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, one more bold move in the many she’d made since meeting him.
Neil eased an arm around her waist and guided her down onto his lap, all without breaking the seal of their lips. When she settled down, the bullet wound in his back kicked up a bit, but he ignored it and pulled her closer so he could kiss her like he’d dreamed of doing—sweet, lingering, mouth-parting kisses that left them both limp, breathless, and hungry for more.
He worked his hand into her hair, and her fingers moved over the back of his neck. He nibbled her lip and Olivia slid her tongue into his mouth, savoring the groan he made. Their tongues danced, parted, and danced again. Still drawing on her lips, he ran a slow hand down the front of her blouse, and it was her turn to moan.
Neil kissed the bare skin beneath her chin that was visible above her lacy collar and moved his hands over her corset-encased breasts. The image of holding her in his hands, taking her into his mouth, and feeling the nipples harden under his tongue flared his desire. “I want to touch you, Olivia….”
The heat of his hands penetrated Olivia’s clothes; her breasts were hard, pleading to know more, so when he began undoing the buttons of her blouse, she didn’t protest—nor did she when he gently spread the fabric aside and brushed his lips over the bare, trembling hollow of her brown throat. The scented nook was treated to a series of short, smoldering licks that sent ripples clear to her toes. This was lust, plain and simple. The other emotions they felt for each other weren’t as developed or as strong as this hot, carnal wanting, and Olivia didn’t need to know why; she didn’t care. His skillful hands, magnificent kisses, and heated whispers made her feel like a woman, and she was of a mind that every woman should experience lust at least once in her life.
“Dios, you’re lovely….” Neil confessed thickly. His lips traveled over her jaw, her ear, and sucked gently on the lobe, while his hands roamed her body like a man blind.
Olivia lost track of time; she had no idea if it was still raining, dawn, or two days past. She did know that his hands and kisses were magical and she didn’t want him to stop.
Neil’s only plans were to pleasure her until she screamed his name. He would never forget this interlude, and he wanted her to remember, too.
He freed more of the small black buttons, and his eyes and lips feasted on the soft brown tops of her breasts temptingly displayed above the strapless, low-cut French corset. His hands moved to the hook-and-eye fastenings, and he slowly began to work them free.
Olivia was so entranced that every one of her senses seemed heightened. His hot tongue on the skin between her breasts made her groan low in her throat. His lips greeted each newly bared expanse of skin with sensual salute until she was bare and held in his big, warm hands. When he brushed his lips over the pleading nipples, she melted, and her head fell back. He pleasured her slowly, surely, taking the buds into his mouth and teasing them with the tip of his tongue. She was dissolving, keening. He ran his large palm over the now damp tip, then raised up to recapture her mouth.
Neil wanted to ease her back onto the cot and ready her like a man readies a virgin bride, but she was not his bride. This sweet-breasted lady mayor was destined for a man much finer than himself, and he forced himself to honor that. “We need to slow down a minute, darlin’.”
Olivia was in such a hazy world, it took a moment for her to hear him. “Why?”
He ran a finger over her berry hard nipple, erotically framed by the half-opened corset. “Because this is about to get out of hand, and I promised Chase, the spinsters, and you that I’d be good.” Unable to stop himself, however, he kissed her again, and then again before finally, reluctantly breaking the seal of their lips.
Still caught in the haze of desire, Olivia said, “But you’re being very good….”
He ran his eyes over her passion-filled features and chuckled, “Brazen woman, you know what I’m talking about.”
She met his eyes and said seriously, “But I don’t. Not really. That’s why I don’t want you to stop….”
He studied her—the tender swelling of her lips, the glitter of desire in her eyes—and hated the idea that someday another man would hold her as he was doing now. “Your full knowing will come with the man you marry, Olivia. Not with me.”
She touched his cheek. “And what if I want it to be with you.”
Neil ducked away and stared over her head into the shadows. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I’m not fishing for a husband,” she said earnestly.
“If we don’t slow down, you’re going to need one.”
“Why do men insist on telling me I don’t know my own mind.”
“Virgins don’t know their own minds.”
She tossed back sarcastically, “Thank you very much, Neil July.”
It was easy to see she was becoming more and more frosty, but he was getting a kick out of watching her huffing and puffing. “Olivia, darlin’, you are something.”
She met his eyes and said quietly, “I told you when we met, I doubted I’d marry—”
“But you never know, sweetheart, and I don’t want you to be shamed by a night in a cellar with an outlaw.”
She understood his chivalrous intentions; the respect he had for her was unequaled in her life, but she didn’t want to fight with him and ruin the rest of the time they had together because she was suddenly greedy for pleasure. Maybe he was right and she didn’t know her mind, maybe it was because his kisses made her out of her mind.
Neil held the silent Olivia against his chest. Content, he kissed the top of her hair and willed his manhood to be silent, too.
The wind continued to howl and the rain pounded against the door like it wanted in. Olivia had no way of knowing if her house was still standing, or if everything had been sucked up and blown away. She dearly hoped no one had been injured or was in need of assistance.
Neil asked quietly, “Penny for your thoughts.”
“Wondering how much damage the town is taking on.”
He chuckled.
“What’s funny?”
“At a time like this, a man hopes the lady on his lap is thinking about him.”
She dropped her head sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m new at this sitting on a man’s lap business.”
He squeezed her gently. “No need to apologize. Just shows how special you are, Olivia Sterling.” Then he asked, “Do you have a middle name?”
“Jean. What’s yours?”
He shook his head. “I don’t have one.” Then, as if trying the sounds of the name on his lips, he echoed, “Olivia Jean. I like that.”
She settled back into the cocoon of his arms. “Is your wound bothering you?”
He shrugged. “A little.”
She straightened, concerned. “I should look at it.” She made a move to leave his lap, but he kept her where she was.
“We’ll look later. Right now, I want to know everything about Olivia Jean.”
She cocked her head at him and her eyes sparkled. “Such as?”
“I don’t know, start at the beginning.”
“Okay.” And she began by telling him when and where she was born. “Which makes me an ancient thirty-two years of age.”
“Six years younger than me, though, so you’re not that ancient. What was it like at Oberlin?”
She thought back for a few moments. “Very interesting. The trustees let women of color attend, but there were very few places in the city we could board, and even fewer places to find
employment. Some of the other students treated us atrociously, but I was given a good, solid education.”
She looked up at him and added, “In fact, one of my teachers told us that the war would be the defining moment in our lives, so he made us do interviews with people we met and then chronicle their experiences. It’s an exercise that stuck with me, because the experiences were so fascinating and varied. Now, whenever I meet someone, I always ask. So, now I’m asking you. Where were you and what did you do during the war?”
“Well, let’s see. I was in Indian Territory when it began but wound up in Kansas.”
He went on to explain that because Chiefs Billy Bowlegs and John Chupco had refused to sign with the Confederacy as some of the other Seminole town chiefs had, the Reb cavalry had come to round up everyone who’d refused to take them into custody. “But when they got to the towns we were gone. Almost two thousand men, women, and children—mostly Seminoles and Creek—left to follow the old Creek chief Opotheyohola up through Cherokee country and into Kansas.”
“Did you make it?”
“Barely. It was winter and most of us were walking. The first two times the Rebs rode down on us, we battled our way clear, but the third time they captured over a hundred and fifty of the women and children.”
Olivia’s heart stopped.
“The rest of us had already lost everything we owned during the other battles along the way, so by the time we did reach Kansas we were destitute and hungry. But once we were settled, every man strong enough to pick up a rifle signed up with the First Kansas Colored and went to war to fight the Rebs. I had to wait until ’64 when I was fourteen, but I went gladly.”
“What happened to the captives?”
“Many of them were sold. Slave catchers had been nipping at the Black Seminoles like a pack of hounds since before the removal, making false claims of ownership to any court that would listen, kidnapping when they could. They hated the idea that they couldn’t round us all up and send us back to wherever they thought we belonged.”
“So, do you consider yourself a Black man or an Indian?”