Chapter Eight

 

It seemed his nervous nurse had turned into his nervous bride. Perhaps going slow was a good investment. If he meant for this marriage to proceed well, he needed to assure his skittish wife he wouldn’t force himself on her. Not now, not ever.

Trailing his fingers slowly up and down her arm, he said, “Did you enjoy the party?”

“Yes. It was very nice. In fact I was impressed so many people contributed to it.” Her voice shook, from either leftover passion, or fear.

“That’s the way these wagon trains go. Folks really pull together for the good times and bad.”

“Mmmm. I agree, they really are a nice group of people.” The breathlessness in her voice, and shifting of her body, told him stroking her arm was both soothing, and re-igniting the passion he’d briefly felt.

Heartened, he nuzzled her neck again. When she didn’t pull away, he slowly moved his hand to cup her breast once more. The small moan that escaped from her encouraged him to move to her mouth, and touching her closed lips with his tongue, he edged her mouth open. Emma timidly met his tongue with hers, and Davis pulled her closer and began again to ease up her nightgown.

Emma rested her hand on his chest. She opened the top two buttons of his shirt, and played with the hair on his chest. Davis moved over her, and maneuvered the nightgown all the way up and over her head.

She was magnificent in the moonlight, all creamy skin and womanly curves. The nipple of one breast peeked out through strands of her glorious hair. He groaned at the sight of her spread out before him. Apparently uncomfortable under his gaze, she moved her hands to cover her breasts.

He took her hands in his. “Don’t, sweetheart. Don’t ever cover yourself from me. You’re beautiful.” He ran his work roughened palms over her soft skin. “You take my breath away.”

It had been some time since he’d been with a woman, but even if it had been only last night, he would find it hard to control himself. Emma had a body made for loving. He felt about to burst, and knew if he didn’t gain some semblance of control, he would likely embarrass himself with his new wife.

He moved his mouth to her breast and suckled, scraping lightly with his teeth, bringing a soft moan from her lips. He moved his hand down to the curls at the apex of her thighs and slowly moved her legs apart. “Open for me darlin’,” he breathed into her mouth. She bent her knee to grant better access and Davis’s thumb circled her most sensitive flesh. He found her wet and ready for him, the perfume of her arousal filling his nostrils.

Their mouths joined in a battle of tongues, Emma tugged his shirt from his pants, sliding her hands around his waist. Her eagerness brought a surge of desire so strong he almost lost the battle with his restraint. “Oh, darlin’, I’m not gonna last very long. You’re killing me.”

He tore himself away from her warmth and quickly divested himself of his clothes. Emma regarded him with passion-filled eyes, her lips swollen from his kisses. Davis moved over her, pushing her legs apart with his knees.

Once more he took possession of her mouth, and bracing himself on his elbows slid into her moist welcoming warmth. Her breath hitched as their bodies joined, and her eyes snapped open. He released her lips and smoothed the damp curls from her forehead. “God, you feel so good.”

“This is so different from what I’m used to.”

“Hang on, sweetheart. It only gets better from here.” He started the rhythm that would bring them to completion. A moan slipped from her swollen lips, and her eyelids fluttered before she closed them, her jaw clenched.

Davis sensed her agitation, her straining toward what he knew she searched for. “Just let go, darlin, come with me.” He sucked on her earlobe as he continued his stroking and thrusting.

***

Emma thrashed underneath Davis’s hard body, with no idea what was happening to her. All her attention focused on the area between her legs, where he now used his fingers to touch and stroke her. Oh, if she could only reach what her body craved.

Her hands moved to the back of his head, and she pulled him down for a soul-searing kiss. She grew frantic with need as her muscles tightened and her lower parts coiled. Then in a burst of light and heat, her body tensed, and waves of pleasure like she’d never before experienced washed over. Within seconds, Davis gave one final thrust, and groaned as his life force poured into her.

Panting as if he had run a long distance, he collapsed on top of her. His muscles relaxed before he shifted to his side, and pulled her onto his chest. They both took in gulps of air.

If this was how lovemaking was between husband and wife, she no longer wondered why a couple would keep it up even after a few children had arrived. Nothing she’d ever had with Peter closely resembled what she and her new husband had just shared.

He turned to her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry it was so fast.” He kissed her forehead. “It’s just been too long for me, and something about you makes me lose what little control I have.” He tilted her chin up with his knuckle. “You’re so beautiful, Emma Cooper. And I promise I’ll try my best to be a good husband, and make you happy.”

Emma rested her palm on his cheek and looked into his eyes. She wanted to tell him taking her back to Indiana would make her happy, but didn’t want to break the connection between them. What she’d just experienced had shattered her soul, brought her to heights she’d never imagined. If he felt the same thing, this was not the best time to bring up Indiana. Instead, she smiled and laid her head on his chest. For now her secret would remain just that−her secret.

Davis pulled up the light blanket at the bottom of the pallet. The night air on their cooling skin brought a chill to them both. Limbs intertwined and drowsy, Emma closed her eyes and was asleep in a matter of minutes.

***

Emma awoke to the feel of whiskers rubbing against the back of her neck. She and Davis were curled together like two spoons in a drawer, with her bottom pressed up against his groin, which appeared to be growing larger. She started at the realization that she was naked. Never in her time with Peter did she sleep without her nightgown. Most times her nightgown never came completely off while they were making love. Feeling extremely embarrassed, she tried to ease herself away from him.

“Where ya going, darlin’?” Davis mumbled into her ear as he licked the outside of it.

“Um, it’s time to get up.” She continued to ease away from him and the sensations he elicited, but his arm remained firmly around her middle.

“Please, we need to get up. I have to start breakfast and you need to get the oxen ready and. . .” He silenced her litany of chores with a kiss. Oh my, first thing in the morning, too. His fingers moved to her breast to circle the nipple teasingly. She jerked at his touch and he chuckled into her mouth.

“It’s daytime!” She gasped, and put her hand between them to push him away.

“All right, Mrs. Cooper. We’ll leave this for later.” He rolled over and pulled on his clothes. Emma kept her head turned away while he fumbled behind her. Just before he left, he reached over and gave her a pat on her rump and squeezed.

Heat flooded her. Goodness, he certainly was different from Peter. She jumped up and banged her head on a barrel. Still a little bit shaken, she hurriedly washed, dressed and rolled up the pallet. She could hear Davis whistling as he did his morning chores.

Aside from having a new husband in her bed, the day started out as any other. Davis took care of the animals and checked over the wagon while Emma prepared their breakfast. She was aware, however, of smiling glances in her direction from the other travelers. Each time her eyes met with another’s, the heat would start in her belly and rise to her face. Didn’t these people have other things to concern themselves with than what Davis and Emma were doing? Or had done? Just the thought of last night brought butterflies to her stomach.

Maybe she would suggest to Davis they try that again tonight. Then she drew up in horror at her wanton thoughts. She quickly glanced around as if caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Sarah strolled over to their wagon just as Emma tucked the last of their breakfast things away.

“How’s the bride this morning?” Again, that knowing smile. But Emma didn’t feel the blush this time. She was more comfortable with Sarah.

“We’re fine. Getting ready to move out. How’s your brood today?” Emma motioned with the almost empty coffee pot, asking if Sarah wanted coffee.

“No, thanks,” Sarah responded. “I’ve had enough of everything, I just wanted to say hello before we started off for the day. Stephen is a little restless this morning, kinda cranky, which isn’t like him. Maybe the results of a too-late night.” She looked with a mother’s concern at her little boy, who had his head on her shoulder, thumb in his mouth.

***

Davis studied Emma as she walked alongside the wagon. The sun felt warm on his back, but the air hadn’t quite heated up. Yet his wife continually wiped the sweat from her face with the sleeve of her dress. She appeared to stumble and shake her head occasionally.

“Davis.” She turned and immediately grabbed onto the side of the wagon. “Do you think we could stop for just a minute so I can get a cup of water?”

“Sure.” He pushed the brim of his hat back with his thumb and studied her. “Are you feeling all right, darlin’? You look a little peaked. Maybe you should ride for a while.”

Emma wiped her brow again. “I think that might be a good idea. I do feel a bit weak.” Having enough space between their wagon and the one behind, Davis brought the animals to a halt. Holding onto the now still wagon, Emma hesitated. After two faltered steps, she slowly sank to the ground.

“Emma!” Davis shouted as she hit the ground in a crumpled heap. The driver of the wagon behind pulled his animals to a stop, and signaled the one to his rear. Davis hurried to where Emma lay. He untied her bonnet and sucked in a breath when he touched her chin. Her face was flushed and she burned with fever.

Davis turned to the man hovering over them. “Horace, please find Ezra and tell him to stop the wagon train. Emma seems to be pretty sick. And see if you can get one of the women to come back with you.” Davis slid his arm under Emma’s back and another under her knees as he picked her up.

Not sure if the daytime heat of the wagon was the best place to lay her, he moved her off the trail and settled her on a blanket of wildflowers. He ran to the wagon, got a cloth from inside and dipped it in the cool water from the barrel. Back at her side, he loosened the buttons on her dress, and just as he put the cloth on her head, Abigail Preston hurried up with Ezra trailing behind.

“What happened?” Abigail said as she knelt beside Emma.

“I don’t know for sure, she asked for a cup of water because she was hot, and before she took more than a few steps she collapsed. She’s burning up with fever.”

Ezra and Abigail turned as a frantic woman ran up, holding a crying baby in her arms. “Ezra, something’s wrong with Joey. He’s so hot. Which wagon is the doctor in?”

“Take Joey back to your wagon, Lettie, put a cool cloth on his head and I’ll fetch the doctor. It looks like Miz Cooper is also sick with fever. I hope this doesn’t turn into an epidemic.”

***

Davis watched helplessly as over twenty travelers joined Emma with fever, chills, and vomiting. Influenza had struck the group. The doctor kept busy going from wagon to wagon checking all the emigrants. The treatment he recommended to family members was to keep cool cloths on the patient, and offer water often.

Emma’s flushed face and thrashing body reinforced Davis’s unease. No matter how much water he forced down her throat, or how many cloths he put on her head, the fever stayed stubbornly high. She mumbled incoherently, and attempted to tear off her clothes. At one point she grabbed his shirt, and with fever-glazed eyes begged for her mother.

One of the older women in the train approached the spot where Davis sat on the soft grass, with Emma stretched out alongside him. “Here, Mr. Cooper.” She held out a small packet. “Make some tea with this and try to get your wife to drink it.”

Davis rotated his neck to relieve some of the tension. “No offense, ma’am, but what’s in the tea?”

“Willow bark, ginger and some hot pepper.” Her mouth moved in a toothless smile as she placed the packet into his hand. “I used it for years on my little ones, and it helps to bring the fever down.” She patted his arm and left as quietly as she had arrived.

 

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, bringing early relief over the area where the wagon train had stopped. Three days had passed, and Emma remained delirious with fever. Davis’s head snapped up from his vigil at Emma’s side in the wagon, to the sound of wailing, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

“My baby, my baby,” Sarah screamed. “Please, someone help my baby.” In her fear and panic, she ran down the row of wagons, clutching Stephen in her arms, looking in each wagon for the doctor. Davis joined Dr. Bennett as he moved around one of the wagons and reached Sarah. The doctor took the baby from her arms.

Dr. Bennett placed the lifeless child on the ground and examined him. The child’s skin was pale white, an almost pasty color. He looked up at Sarah with tired compassion. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Boyle, but your boy’s gone.”