"I hate you!" Ruby dropped into the back of the wagon and wrapped her arms around her knees.
Well, great, Jo thought. Now the only one in the house who liked her was Tommy, and he didn't know any better.
"Please, Ruby, we were just talking."
"His hand was in yours, I saw it. I saw him touching you."
Jack lifted Tommy into the wagon and handed him the now empty picnic basket. He hadn't spoken a word during the exchange.
"I was showing him the blisters on my hands," Jo said, stepping onto the large wheel and into the wagon. "It was hardly romantic."
"You were gone for over an hour!" Ruby yelled as the wagon hitched forward.
"Well, forgive me for wanting to spend time with someone who found my company pleasant, since everyone in this house seems to find my presence repulsive!" Jo slumped in her seat. She hadn't meant to snap at Ruby, but nothing was going as planned. Ruby hated her and Jack was brooding. God only knew what he was thinking. He might throw her out as soon as they got back to the house.
"We were only talking.” Jo turned to Ruby, urging her to hear what Jo said. “I would never pursue James. But if he doesn’t love you any more, don’t you want to know that? Why would you marry someone who doesn’t want you? I'm sorry if that sounds cruel, but it would be a crueler fate to be in a loveless marriage." Jo looked to Jack for support, but his eyes stayed on the road, his jaw working under his stubbled cheek.
"He had plenty of interest until you showed up!"
"Did he?" Jo raised her eyebrows. "I want to know. Was there anything he showed you more than kindness and friendship?"
"That's all he's meant to show. He's a gentleman."
"Indeed." Jo turned back, and they rode the rest of the way in uneasy silence.
When they returned to the farm, Jo jumped down from the wagon and booked it to the barn, the only place she felt calm. The animals were uncomplicated creatures, and she found comfort in them. Milking the cows in the morning had become a meditative practice, and she looked forward to it every day. The lambs in the fields were playful and affectionate, and Jo loved to sit with them and run her hands over their soft wool.
But when she entered the barn that evening, she knew something wasn't right. The animals were fidgeting and unsettled. Immediately, Jo went to the corner stall and found Darla. She was lying on her side, bellowing and grunting.
"Oh!" Jo's hand flew to her mouth. Out of a large opening between Darla’s hind legs, two little legs were dangling. "Jack! Ruby!" Jo raced out of the barn. "Jack! It's Darla! The calf is coming!"
Jack ran from the house, Ruby and Tommy following behind. "I don't know what to do!" Jo said.
Jack knelt next to Darla, and Ruby grabbed several rags and a bucket of water.
"Do something!" Jo yelled when all he did was watch.
"Calm down, Jo," he barked. "Sit at her head and keep her calm. The calf is in the correct position, and Darla should be able to birth the calf on her own with little assistance."
The pile of hay was scratchy under her legs, but Jo ignored it as she rubbed Darla's head, the cow's eyes wide as she bellowed. A black-and-white head appeared out of the opening, and Jack grabbed the bony legs and gently pulled. It was an effort, and Darla grunted and squirmed, but the little calf finally slid out in a slimy clump.
Jack swiped inside its nose and vigorously rubbed its back. "Come on, girl. Breathe." He blew on the little calf's face, and Darla bent her head down and licked the calf. It didn't move. "Breathe, damn it!" Darla mewed and nudged her little calf with her nose.
"Breathe," Jo whispered to the baby animal. "Please, honey, breathe." Tears welled in her eyes as she willed this precious creature to take a breath.
Jack grabbed the bucket of water and poured it on the calf's head. Its ear flickered and Jo held her breath. Darla licked her baby's face, and finally its little eyes flickered open and it took a deep breath.
"Thank God," Jo cried, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, thank you. Thank you." She wrapped her arms around Darla and watched in wonder as the little calf hobbled to its legs, halfway up and then fully standing. "Look, Darla. You did it."
Darla nudged the calf until it reached her udder and began nursing.
Jo squeezed Jack's hand, overcome by the miracle, but he snatched it away and barreled out of the barn.
"What's the matter? The calf’s okay," Jo said to Ruby, who took a rag and wiped the afterbirth off the calf.
"It reminds him of what happened to Momma."
Jo's heart clenched inside her chest. She wiped the pieces of hay from her skirt and walked out into the warm evening. At the back of the barn, Jack stood in silhouette behind the hay mound, his hands in fists at his side. Cautiously, Jo approached.
"I forget sometimes how hard this must be for you." Jo touched his shoulder, but he bucked her off.
“Go away.” His voice was hard.
“Jack, please. You have to let someone in. Just for a moment. What happened to your wife—to Jenny—was tragic, but you can’t let it define the rest of your life. You need to let the pain out and find a way to live with it.” She knew better than to tell him to move on, because you never truly moved on from that kind of loss; you just adjusted to the new normal.
His square shoulders rose and his head fell as savage tears took over. The raw emotion froze Jo, and she stared at Jack in stunned silence. Her arms lifted to wrap around him, but she willed them back down to her side.
“I said go away!” Jack yelled, covering his face.
"Jack, please. You’ll make yourself ill.” If Jo had learned anything from her brother, it was how damaging suppressed pain can be for everyone in that person’s life. Jack obviously bottled up the pain from his wife’s death, and now something as innocuous as the birth of a calf had sent him into a downward spiral.
His face screwed up as he tried to control the emotions ripping out of him. Everything about his body language screamed go away. But Jo didn’t move.
“Jack—”
“No!” In a few short strides Jack stood before Jo. Oh, yes. He was furious and unraveling—his nostrils flared, his eyes were wild, and his jaw ground down. He yanked Jo aside, but instead of letting her go, he dropped onto a bale of hay and hauled her over his legs. His hand came down hard on the back of her calf. She screamed, shocked by the pain. Then he swiftly bunched her skirts up to her waist, and pushed her drawers to her knees. Gooseflesh covered her buttocks as the air tickled the exposed skin.
Smack! Jo winced as the slap reverberated through her.
“If you’re going to behave like a petulant child, I’ll treat you as one.” His voice was strangled with tears as he peppered her with smacks, but they were erratic and barely made contact with her flesh. He was in a fury, and Jo wasn’t sure he knew what he was doing.
Then he stopped suddenly and collapsed over her, his chest rising and falling rapidly against her thighs. When his breathing tapered, he turned his face sideways and Jo felt his hot, wet breath on her backside. The fight left him, and he was so still Jo wondered if he’d fallen asleep.
“I’m sorry,” he said. His head lifted and in its place his hand gingerly ran over her sore bottom. Jo’s stomach clenched, unsettled by the intense yearning that shot up between her legs.
Yearning or not, Jo flipped over, ready to give him a wallop of her own, but his eyes were still wet and it made her pause in her fury. Her breath hitched when she caught his gaze. There was an unmistakable look of lust in his eyes. Magnetism rushed through Jo and, without thinking, she pressed her lips to his. For a moment everything stopped. All her focus was on those two soft pads against her mouth. Jack’s lips were warm and ready and she sighed against them, opening her mouth.
This would not be a gentle kiss. Jack’s hands fisted in her hair as he pressed her lips apart with his tongue, his kisses turning eager and demanding, devouring her. Pleasure zigzagged through her body, pooling in a warm pool of desire between her legs. Meeting his urgency, her hands dug into his back, pulling him toward her. A groan escaped him and her sex throbbed at the sound of his desire. Jo moved her tongue in a dance with his, lust flowing through her like a tidal wave.
She hiked her skirt and drawers up and swung her leg over his thigh. His tongue massaged hers in frantic caresses, deep and impatient, like a man holding on for dear life. Her hips bucked forward and she nearly exploded as her sex hit his member, rock hard inside his trousers. The slit up the middle of her drawers left no barrier between her sex and the glorious pleasure of his member between her legs.
Jack’s hands scooped over her bottom and he pulled her against his hardness. She rocked her hips back and forth, the wetness from her sex creating a slick surface against his trousers where she slid against him.
The fire coiled tighter and tighter between her legs, the friction from his hardness pushing her to the brink of unraveling. Her hands twitched to touch him and she plunged them into his pants. She released a shuddering sigh when her hands wrapped around his silky hardness.
"Oh, Gad," he groaned, his mouth releasing hers. “Wait. Wait, Jo.”
“No,” she growled, an animalistic fever taking over. Her hand slid up and over the swollen tip of his member, but he clasped her hands together and eased them off his hardness. She fought to get back to him, but he held tight, forcing their unbridled fever to a halt.
“We can’t,” he said.
"But I want you." She panted against his mouth and he kissed her softly. Her lips opened, welcoming him back, and his tongue surged forward. Jo clung to his shirt, as the kisses turned impatient and unrelenting. The pads of his fingers tickled her inner thigh and she captured his fingers in her palm and guided him until he cupped her sex. Her head fell back as she cried out from the burst of pleasure that shot through her.
“You’re so wet,” he said, astonished, his fingers sliding over her.
She didn’t know why that was good, and she didn’t care. It just felt so damn amazing. The throbbing was growing in intensity, building until his fingers slid over the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex and she exploded. Her head collapsed on his shoulder as her body convulsed in delicious explosions against his hand, her senses spiraling out of control.
When she came back to herself, Jack was staring, horror and awe a strange mixture on his face. He lifted her from his lap and her skirts fell down her legs. Then he folded his hard member back in his trousers and wiped his hands on his pants, taking a fortifying breath deep into his lungs.
"Damn it,” he spoke softly to the ground.
Jo sat on the bale of hay, panting, as the world twisted like she'd been pushed from a merry-go-round. She wanted to touch him and hold him and kiss him but he moved away from her.
The outline of his desire pressed against his trousers, and her fingers tingled, wanting to reach out and touch it again. Wanting more of him.
Jack cursed under his breath. “We have to forget this.” He stood and moved swiftly to the house, leaving Jo alone.
Shame and confusion fell over her like a cold rain shower. But he was right. She knew he was right. This had to become a distant memory, forgotten except for in the dark hours of night. What had they even done? Jo never knew a woman could get pleasure like that from a man. Not without performing the marriage act.
She shook her head, shaking sense back in. The back of her palms rested against her cheeks and she spun around, suddenly remembering Ruby and Tommy. Oh God, what if they’d seen them? But there was no one there except the moon, the hay, and the pasture.
Jack would never look at her the same. She'd proven herself no better than a painted lady. It was silly and ridiculous, Jo thought. Jack had participated in the act too, but it was the woman who would be cast out and shunned if anyone found out.
That fire inside her still burned, and she ached to find him and make him fuel it. But she knew he was in the house, beating himself up for what they’d done. He’d been upset, out of his body and mind from grief. When he woke in the morning in a sound mind, would he kick Jo out?
More than anything, she wanted to stay. And not because she couldn’t go back to New York. She wanted Jack. Completely. She needed to finish what they’d started.