A Season Beyond a Kiss
“Do you have it in you to shoot a man?” Raelynn glanced at her worriedly.
Elizabeth made a lame attempt to appear confident about performing such a task, but had to confess, “I’ve never had the need.”
“Get it,” Raelynn urged, trying hard to keep her teeth from chattering. “Knowing what the man is capable of if he isn’t stopped, I think I could do it.”
Gustav had gained the front porch by the time Elizabeth arrived back with the pistol. She passed it to Raelynn who immediately looked it over in some confusion.
“How can you tell if it’s loaded?”
“At least I know that much,” Elizabeth chided, grabbing it out of her friend’s hands. “I loaded it before I came down here. Now get behind the door where he can’t see you. Perhaps he’ll go away and leave us alone if I discourage him.”
Upon stepping near the portal, Gustav tucked the spray of flowers within the crook of his useless arm before reaching out to knock. Only after doing so did he take his hat off, set it aside on a porch chair and retrieve the colorful cluster within his grasp.
Cautiously Elizabeth swept the pistol behind her skirts before she reached out and swung the door open. Forcing a smile, she met the man’s unwavering ice-blue gaze and felt a cold shiver sweep through her. “Mr. Fridrich, I believe,” she said, her tone unusually high. Lifting a hand, she indicated the nosegay and cleared her throat before making another attempt to speak. “To what do we owe this occasion?”
“I haf come to present my respects to Frau Birmingham,” he announced officiously.
“Is she expecting you?” Elizabeth inquired impertinently.
“I vish to speak vith her.” Gustav thrust his chin outward briefly as his eyes glinted with icy shards. “Fetch her for me.”
“I’m not sure that Mrs. Birmingham wants to see you,” Elizabeth boldly stated. She thought perhaps if she could just stop shaking, she’d get through this thing without revealing just how frightened she really was. “After all, you did kidnap her from her husband’s home. How do we know that you won’t try something like that again?” Elizabeth had noticed the pale blue eyes hardening progressively, but she was hardly prepared for his roaring bellow, which drew a sudden start from her.
“Get zhe Frau Birmingham before I lose patience vith yu, yu stupid woman! Get her now!”
In the face of such flaring rage, Elizabeth retreated precipitously until she collided with Raelynn, who had come out of hiding. The resulting collision promptly sent the brunette stumbling forward again. Managing to stiffen her resolve as well as her spine, Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak and found to her abashment that her voice had fled. She cleared her throat sharply and tried once more. “Mr. Fridrich, I will allow no man to shout at me in my own home. Calmly restrain yourself or I shall have you removed posthaste.”
The German smirked at such a silly notion. “Who vill do zhat task for yu, Frau Dalton? Zhe man of zhe house?”
“Possibly,” a male voice boomed behind the women, startling a gasp from each. Striding forward to the door, Farrell stepped past Elizabeth and nearly filled the modest doorway as he faced the German and settled his arms akimbo. Though Farrell hadn’t competed in a boxing tournament in more than six years, he had nevertheless kept in prime condition sparring with his friends and was confident that he could send this arrogant intruder flying without undue effort if worse came to worst. “What do you want this time, Fridrich?”
When Jake had heard the strange man yelling at his mother, he had scurried behind a chair where he had then crouched in trembling fear, but Farrell’s presence did much to bolster his courage. Leaving his hiding place, he slipped past their tall protector and proceeded to give the shorter man a swift kick in the shin.
“Go away!” the boy demanded. “We don’t like you.”
“Yu little guttersnipe!” Gustav railed, sending the boy stumbling backward with widened eyes. “I vill cut yu up into little pieces and feed yur carcass to zhe sharks! Zhey vill gobble yu up as zhey do a tiny morsel.”
Reaching out, Farrell laid a comforting hand upon the lad’s shoulder and drew him back against his leg. When the youngster glanced up in wide-eyed trepidation, the couturier tousled his sandy hair and grinned down at him. “Don’t let that mean old man frighten you, son. Not as long as I’m around.”
Whirling, the boy wrapped his arms about Farrell’s thigh and held on tightly.
The sound of angry voices had awakened Jeff. Not knowing exactly what was transpiring, he had donned his trousers and hastily made his way down the stairs, bereft of shirt and shoes. When he espied Tizzy nearly jumping up and down in great agitation in the hallway, he inquired, “What’s going on out there?”
“It’s Mistah Fridrich, Mistah Jeffrey,” she hissed furtively and silently pointed toward the front entrance as Jeff strode forward. “He’s out dere on de porch, lookin’ all spruicified, jes’ like some gentlemon caller. Ah ‘spect he’s done come ta pay court ta Miz Raelynn.”
“Oh, he has, has he?” Despite the dull throbbing in his head, Jeffrey was more than willing to deal with this antagonist. It didn’t matter that he was insufficiently dressed for the occasion, considering he had nothing more than his trousers on. His fighting spirit was definitely primed. Indeed, he now understood exactly what Brandon had felt like when he had nearly thrashed a man for forcing a kiss upon Heather shortly after Beau was born.
Raelynn caught her husband’s arm as he sought to step past her. When he paused and looked down at her, she beseeched him, “Please, Jeffrey, let Farrell handle this. You’re in no condition to get into a set-to with Gustav.”
Giving her a smile, Jeff took her hand within his grasp and lifted it to his lips for a loving kiss as his eyes melded with hers. “No need to fear, madam. I’ll be careful.”
Elizabeth backed away to give Jeff room to pass as he neared the door. Farrell caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye and moved out onto the porch, allowing his friend to follow him, but Farrell wasn’t about to leave this conflict to be decided by a man who had just suffered a concussion and was barefoot besides.
A thin eyebrow jutted upward as Gustav swept his foe with a sneering perusal. “I zee zhat zhe good sheriff haf not yet zeen fit to do his duty by arresting yu, Herr Birmingham. No one had as much reason to kill Nell zhan yu. Once more, everyvone knows she vas killed in yur stables, but here yu are, free as zhe wind. Being friends vith Sheriff Townzend has its rewards, ja?”
“And I see that you still have aspirations of claiming my wife for yourself, Herr Fridrich. What will it take to convince you that she belongs to me?”
Gustav jeered as his eyes passed derisively over his enemy’s long, half-garbed form. Birmingham was not only younger, taller, and more muscular, but also trimmer. It didn’t help that the man’s waist was lean and taut and bore no evidence of a paunch, a problem he had been battling since the age of a score and ten. “She’ll be a vidow fairly soon, Herr Birmingham, right after zhey hang yu for killing Nell.”
An abortive laugh escaped Jeff. “Don’t hold your breath while you’re waiting for that event to happen, Fridrich. You could descend into the netherworld before your time.”
“It iz yu, Herr Birmingham, who vill go to hell, not me! I do not kill anyvone.”
“No, you wouldn’t soil your clammy white hands doing that kind of dirt. You’d just let your henchmen do it for you. I was told you offered a thousand Yankee dollars to both Hyde and Frye if they’d dispense with me in one way or another so you could have a clear path to my wife. It would be interesting to see which one of your two henchmen killed Nell in an effort to bring that about. Perhaps you were even responsible for the attack upon me the other night.” Jeff snorted sneeringly. “Don’t be too surprised if Sheriff Townsend comes calling upon you to ask you a few questions about that particular incident. I’d certainly be interested in hearing what you have to say about that myself.”
The idea of the sheriff nosing around his warehouse again sent the Germ
an into a blustering rage. “I haf done nozhing!”
“You’ve done plenty,” Jeff flung back, “not to mention frightening the women and the boy. In my way of thinking, that’s more than enough reason for me to send you on your way.”
“I came here to pay court to Raelynn, zhat is all.”
“She’s married!” Jeff barked. “To me! Now get your filthy boots off this porch before I dust its planks with your broad backside!”
The German’s upper lip drew up in a caustic sneer. “I’m a patient man vhen I haf to be, Herr Birmingham. I can vait till yu are dead to claim Raelynn for my own, and zhat I vill most assuredly do. As zhey say, I vill have her over yur dead body.”
The man chortled at his own humor and then, with another haughty sneer, flung the flowers at Jeff’s feet. Snatching up his hat, he settled it upon his bald pate and, pivoting about face, stalked off the porch and down the walk. He didn’t bother closing the gate behind him but raised his able arm and hailed a waiting livery down the street. When it halted before him, Gustav climbed onto the step, shook his fist at Jeff for one last time and then settled himself in the interior. The conveyance rumbled past the house, but Gustav glanced neither right nor left.
“I’m glad that’s over,” Elizabeth sighed in relief, letting the hand clutching the pistol fall to her side.
The two men came inside, and when Farrell caught sight of the flintlock his fiancée held, he lifted her wrist and gently plucked the weapon from her grasp. “You won’t need to worry about having to defend your household from now on, madam. If you have no objections, I’m going out right now and find a preacher so the matter of our marriage can be settled once and for all.”
An ecstatic cry escaped Elizabeth as she flung herself into his arms. The fact that she nearly choked him in her eagerness drew a strangled chuckle from him.
“Good heavens, woman, let me breathe,” he begged.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispered in blushing chagrin and stepped back, but only momentarily. Unable to resist the nearness of his lips, she rose to the tips of her toes and brushed a quick, furtive kiss upon them. Then, in some embarrassment at her temerity, she sought to turn aside, but found his hand between her shoulder blades, pressing her against him once more as his mouth descended upon hers. Since his proposal, Farrell had carefully maintained his reserve, knowing only too well that once he started kissing her he’d be tempted to do much more. Only in that way had he persevered through his growing desire for her, but it had hardly prepared him for the tumultuous barrage presently going off within him as their lips merged in fervent hunger.
Jeff cast a twisted grin toward them as Raelynn came into his arms. He was greatly tempted to follow suit, but he had already noticed Tizzy’s jaw hanging aslack. No telling where it would be if he kissed his wife with equal fervor.
“I suppose this means that you’re in agreement?” the couturier inquired softly as he and his fiancée drew apart.
“Oh, yes, Farrell. Yes! Yes! Yes!” Elizabeth cried exuberantly.
His white teeth gleamed in a broad smile. “Then I’d better be on my way.” He placed a lean knuckle beneath her chin and lifted it. “Put on your prettiest gown while I’m gone, my love, and pack up whatever you may need to tide you over for the night. I’m sure Raelynn and Tizzy can watch after Jake until we return on the morrow. As for now, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“But where are we going tonight?”
He winked back at her. “To my apartment, madam, where else?”
Pausing beside Jeff on the way out, he urged, “You’d better get some clothes on if you’re going to stand up as my best man, Jeffrey me dearie. I’ve never gotten married before, so I’m not entirely certain about the normal protocol, but it seems to me that you should be garbed in something more appropriate than just trousers.”
Jeff realized of a sudden that his headache was gone. “I’ll see what I can do, Fancy Man. You wouldn’t happen to have an extra clean shirt at your place, would you?”
Raelynn slipped an arm through his. “No need for that, dear. Tizzy washed and ironed yours. It’s upstairs in our room.”
“I’m feeling a little woozy.” The twin grooves in his cheeks deepened with an unquenchable grin as he offered the excuse. “I think I need some help getting to our room and dressing myself.”
Leaning her head upon his shoulder, Raelynn looked up at him with softly glowing eyes. “I suppose I could lend you some assistance if I find that it’s warranted. ‘Twill hardly be any trouble when I’ll be dressing for the occasion, too.”
“Yo’ gonna need my help, Miz Raelynn?” Tizzy called from the hall.
“Only with my hair, Tizzy. In the meantime, you can lend whatever assistance the bride may require. Miss Elizabeth may enjoy having you arrange her hair especially nice for the ceremony.” She glanced at her friend and received an eager nod. Raelynn laughed. “See there, Tizzy, you’re in high demand in this house. I’ll call you when I’m ready for you.”
Raelynn climbed the stairs under her husband’s encompassing arm. Once they entered the bedroom upstairs, she was drawn into Jeff’s embrace as he leaned back against the door. His kiss was long and thorough, and by the time he let her go, she was feeling a little woozy herself.
“You can’t possibly imagine how much I’ve missed you during our separation, madam,” he whispered above her mouth. “I wanted to run to you every day and beg you to come back to me, but I was afraid you’d draw away from me again, just like you did that night at Red Pete’s place.”
“Oh, Jeffrey, I don’t think there was a night during our separation that I didn’t cry myself to sleep, worrying about what was happening between us. You seemed so angry because of the doubts I suffered about you, and you had a right to be. I should have believed in your innocence, but I was so confused. On one hand, I was afraid you’d sever our marriage, but on the other, I was haunted by the possibility that you weren’t as noble and honorable as you seemed.” She laid her palm alongside his cheek. “It seems unthinkable now to imagine that I could truly, deeply love a man who’s capable of such a ruthless murder.”
“I should have been more patient with you,” he breathed, lowering his opening mouth toward hers. “You had a terrible shock.”
“That’s all over now,” she murmured before his lips covered hers in demanding fervor. Slipping her arms close about his neck, she rose on her toes and strained up against him, aware of his hardening maleness and the hungry throbbing in her own loins. Her nipples grew taut against his steely chest and throbbed for his attention as she pressed ever closer.
“We’d better get dressed, my love,” Jeff muttered at last. “Knowing Farrell, he’ll be back here in short order, and if we continue with what we’re doing, I’m going to make that old bed squeak like it has never squeaked before.”
A small, frustrated groan escaped Raelynn as she drew back, but she began unfastening her bodice, at least until her husband pulled her close again and slipped a hand within her chemise. Encompassing a round breast, he stroked a thumb across the softening peak, drawing it up into a tiny nub again. Raelynn smiled up at him questioningly, quite willing to continue the interlude, but when she leaned into him again, he sighed and shook his head.
“Enough of this, woman,” he whispered huskily. “If we don’t hurry, Farrell will be here pounding on the door.”
Though Jeff was feeling in dire need of a deep, warm soak in a large tub, he realized that a basin bath was the only thing he had time for. His muscles were still a bit sore after his confrontation with the masked man, but more than that, he would have enjoyed involving his wife in a good lavation as well. Many times while they were apart, he had reminisced on those moments wherein she had lain back against him in their tub. During their separation that singular, recurring vision had nearly brought him to his knees before her. It was a relief to know there would be more baths in the future to equal those he had stored in his memory.
Raelynn laid out her husband’s c
lothes as he began to bathe and had just settled into a chair to don a pair of stockings when she happened to glance up and found him standing stark naked before the shaving stand. It was a sight that normally awakened her admiration, but today she was especially intrigued. It wasn’t long before she had gained Jeff’s undivided attention.
“Have you acquired a fetish for my baser parts, madam?” he teased. “Truly, if you stare much longer, I won’t be able to hide myself underneath my trousers.”
“Jeffrey, how would you compare to other men?”
His brow jutted upward quizzically. “What brought that on?”
“Curiosity.” She lifted a grin to him before she raised a leg and smoothed her stocking over her calf. Considering the many explicit conversations they had been involved in, many times after making love, she wasn’t the least bit abashed about discussing his manly attributes. During their foreplay he certainly had never displayed any timidity about instructing her in what pleased him or, with rousing dedication, demonstrating the places where she was most sensitive to stimuli. “Well, are you going to tell me?”
Jeff chuckled at his wife’s inquisitiveness. “I’ve never gone around mentally measuring myself against other men, madam, if that’s what you mean. That never fell into my realm of interest.” Bending closer to the small, round mirror on the shaving stand, Jeff plied the straight-edged razor along his cheek, scraping whiskers away as he did so. After whisking away the last of the white froth, he scrubbed a hand over his face to check for areas still in need of smoothing and then wiped his face with a warm, wet cloth. Finally he tossed a glance toward Raelynn and realized from the playfully baleful gleam in her eyes that she was not about to desist until he had completely appeased her curiosity. “All right, my dear. You can sheathe those blue daggers. I’ll tell you what I know.”
Like a child who had anxiously pleaded for a story, Raelynn scooted up to the edge of her seat and waited, thoroughly captivated with the subject of their conversation. Jeff couldn’t help but chuckle as he took pleasure in the utterly fetching sight. She perched like a prim maid on the stool, yet her scanty attire utterly destroyed any idea that she was priggish, for she wore nothing more than a dainty chemise that left her rounded bosom nearly overflowing its shallow bodice and the soft, pale peaks of her breasts straining against the gossamer cloth.