Chapter Nineteen

 

Mr. Thrash’s agent, Mr. Farthingale, picked up his teacup with two fingers and sipped delicately before he resumed frowning at Joy.

“I’m not sure I entirely understand you, Miss Hardesty. Mr. Thrash sent me here—a long way, I can assure you—because he said you were strong in the faith and desired to join his mission.”

“I am strong in the faith,” Joy said, striving with every nerve in her body to maintain her ladylike manner. “I fear my life has taken a turn, however, and I shan’t be joining Mr. Thrash’s fine work.”

Mr. Farthingale eyed her with distaste. “Mr. Thrash isn’t going to like this.”

“Mr. Thrash has nothing to say about it.”

Joy turned to scowl at Elijah, whose expression was stormy. Mr. Farthingale looked fairly stormy himself when he glanced at Elijah. Joy sighed. “I fear Mr. Perry is correct, Mr. Farthingale, even if he wasn’t very diplomatic. If Mr. Thrash had waited a while before he sent you to Rio Hondo, he would have received the letter I planned to write him explaining the change in my circumstances.”

Still looking annoyed, Mr. Farthingale said, “Which are?” He appeared almost as disapproving as Joy’s mother used to.

Joy reacted to his expression more strongly than she intended. “Mr. Perry and I are going to be married, Mr. Farthingale, and we plan to settle here, in Rio Hondo. I fear Mr. Thrash made a false assumption about my willingness to join him after he deserted me here without so much as an explanation to me. He didn’t even see fit to write me an explanatory note.” She sniffed and glared at Mr. Farthingale, daring him with her eyes to take issue with her assessment of Mr. Thrash’s behavior.

Farthingale sat up straighter in his chair. “Well! I never.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” said Joy.

Elijah gave a quick snort of amusement and stepped forward from where he’d been leaning against the wall of Joy’s room, next to the door. “Listen, Mr. Farthingale. You’re not going to change Joy’s mind, so you might as well take the news with good grace. There’s no reason to go away mad.”

“That’s true, Mr. Farthingale.” Joy offered Mr. Thrash’s emissary a conciliatory smile, which he did not return

“Right. As long as you go away, everything will be just fine.”

Joy wished she were fit enough to be out of bed. She’d stomp on Elijah’s foot for being so outrageous. “He didn’t really mean that,” she muttered, glaring at Elijah.

“I did too.” He glared back at her.

Mr. Farthingale set his tea cup down with a clink. “I see. It seems to me that I’ve wasted my time and that of Mr. Thrash by coming here. His time is valuable, you know, Miss Hardesty. As is mine. We’re both needed in Mexico.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” she murmured, wishing he’d shut up and leave. “Er, I’m sure Mr. McMurdo will be pleased to give you some stew and cornbread, Mr. Farthingale, before you have to set out for Mexico again.” She decided they’d all be better off if she didn’t mention the beer.

With a somewhat bitter-sounding huff, Mr. Farthingale bowed formally and left the room, brushing by Elijah without comment. Joy was interested to notice how insubstantial Farthingale looked next to Elijah. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. Her headache was almost gone by this time. She was surprised her confrontation with Farthingale hadn’t brought it thundering back.

“How are you feeling, Joy?”

She started, not having anticipated Elijah’s voice coming to her from so close. The last she’d seen him, he’d been nearly across the room. Opening her eyes, she saw him standing at the head of her bed, gazing down at her with an expression she’d never seen on his face before, and had never expected to see on any man’s face directed at her. She smiled up at him, feeling tender and full of love.

“I’m much better, thank you.”

“I’m glad of that.” The soft expression vanished and was replaced by a frown. “If you ever do anything so harebrained as climb a tree again, I swear I’ll turn you over my knee and paddle you.”

She felt her lips pinch up. “You will do no such thing, Elijah Perry. You have no right to paddle me. Or to do anything else to me, for that matter.”

“I will have.” He yanked over the chair Farthingale had lately vacated and straddled it. “As soon as we’re married, I’ll be able to beat you every day if I want to.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

“If you ever so much as lay a hand on me, Elijah Perry, I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

They glared at each other for a full minute before Elijah threw his head back and roared with laughter. After another tense moment, Joy joined him.

# # #

That night, Joy felt restless. She’d slept most of the day since her accident, and now that her headache was gone she was discovering sleep difficult to find again.

Not only that, but in a shocking statement of freedom from her mother’s dicta, she’d taken off her corset. She aimed to sleep without it on for the rest of her life, too. Elijah would be pleased, she was sure.

Joy was pretty pleased herself. She felt brave and daring, even though she thought the feeling was probably ridiculous. After all, it was only a corset. Existing sans corset was more comfortable than trying to live with it, to be sure. Removing it, however, was so absolutely contrary to everything she’d ever been taught that she felt funny about it. But free. She even did a few deep-breathing exercises as she sat in bed and smiled, all alone in her bedroom. It felt delicious to be able to draw in big breaths without whalebone stabbing her in the ribs.

“Learn something every day,” she muttered to the ceiling.

An early summer thunderstorm raged outside her window, crashing and banging for all it was worth. Intrigued and not a little alarmed by the commotion, Joy finally gave up on sleep, climbed from her bed, dragged a chair to the window, and sat.

She pulled back the curtains, recalling with a smile the day Elijah had bullied her into opening them for the first time. How long ago that seemed. And how frightened of him she’d been. And now they were going to be married. It didn’t seem possible.

Elation filled her as she watched the thunderbolts light up the sky. They were coming so fast and furiously that the entire universe seemed bathed in a white light. The noise was tremendous. Joy wondered if battlegrounds sounded like that. The ground here was so hard, the water had a difficult time sinking in, and it had already made a lake of Mr. McMurdo’s wagon yard. She was glad he’d had the foresight to build his house and store up from the flat of the plains, or his store would be flooded.

The violence of the storm thrilled her, even if it was incredibly noisy. Here was another indication that she wasn’t the daughter her mother wanted her to be. She didn’t flinch from thunder and lightning, as a properly submissive female should do, but gloried in the ferocious display of Nature. Tonight she didn’t give a rap—even half a rap—about how disappointed her mother would be in her. She was disappointed in her mother, if it came to that, and she’d never, ever, ever treat any children she and Elijah were blessed with as her mother had treated her.

“Whether you meant it or not, Mother, you were a beast to me, and I resent you for it.” She even blew a raspberry at her mother’s memory and giggled at herself. Then she decided she wasn’t going to waste a perfectly good thunderstorm pondering her mother.

With her elbows propped on the windowsill, Joy recalled her day. She’d actually enjoyed climbing that tree. And, really, if it hadn’t begun to rain, she expected she’d have been able to get down safely. Of course, women were hampered a good deal by their corsets and petticoats. Next time she tried to climb a tree, Joy decided, she’d wear breeches. The notion of Joy Hardesty donning breeches and climbing trees was so radical, she giggled again.

“What are you laughing about?”

Joy jumped up from her chair, sending it toppling over backwards, and whirled around to find Elijah standing at the doorway, his hand still on the knob, watching her. She slammed a hand over her heart. “You scared the tar out of me, Elijah Perry! What are you sneaking up on me for?”

“I was worried about you, Joy. You ought to know that by now. You suffered a terrible fall, and now it’s raining cats and dogs. I was afraid you’d be scared.”

Oh, how sweet. Memories returned in a rush, and Joy smiled at the love of her life. He’d actually gone so far as to cry over her. She held out her hand to him. “Come over here and help me watch the storm. It’s beautiful.”

Flashes of light from the storm illuminated his face and form in unforgiving brightness. She saw the lines on his dear countenance, and the gray in his receding hair. She even noticed his slight paunch, back again since he was nearly recovered from his terrible injuries. She was pleased as punch to see it, too. She wanted him whole; as he was. She didn’t want any artificiality between them. The good Lord knew, he’d known her at her very worst, and he loved her anyway.

“The storm’s not the only beautiful thing around here tonight, Joy.”

Merciful heavens, did he mean her? Suddenly shy, Joy didn’t dare ask. She did, however, toss her head in a pert, womanly gesture wholly unlike the Joy Hardesty she used to be, but very much like the Joy Hardesty she’d become.

Without another word, Elijah walked over and took her hand. He stood gazing down at her in a way that unsettled her, until she got nervous and turned again toward the window. “See? Isn’t that something.”

“It is.”

She wasn’t sure he was talking about the storm, but decided to pretend he was. “Nature’s putting on quite a performance out there.”

He sighed. Joy got the impression he’d given up on something, but she wasn’t sure what. “Yep. It’s a real show, all right.”

In a quick move, Elijah sat on the chair and pulled Joy into his lap. A shock shot through her, and she almost jumped up again, but he held her tightly, and she couldn’t.

“Don’t be scared, Joy. I’ll never hurt you.”

“You promised to beat me every day after we’re married,” she reminded him, striving for a jocular tone.

His chuckle was deep and rich and curled through Joy like smoke. She began to relax slightly.

“I didn’t mean that, and you know it. Besides, you said if I did, you’d shoot me. That scared me, and I’d never dare beat you with such a threat hanging over my head.”

“Ha. A likely story.”

“It’s true. You had me shaking in my boots.”

That was so patent a stretcher that Joy laughed. Elijah hugged her, and she slipped an arm around his neck.

He nuzzled her neck, and a delicious sensation of warmth swept through her. She dropped her head back and sighed deeply. It felt so good to be cradled in Elijah’s strong arms. Joy hadn’t ever expected any man to love her and want to take care of her. That the man to do so was Elijah Perry was as surprising to her as it was delightful.

As if to prove to her that she wasn’t dreaming, Elijah murmured, “I love you, Joy.”

She kissed his forehead. “I love you too, Elijah.”

“I don’t know how it happened. Life’s funny that way, I reckon.”

“I reckon.”

“Hell—I mean shoot—I didn’t even like you when we first met.”

“I didn’t like you, either.”

“But that was a long time ago.”

“A very long time ago.”

“Before I got shot.”

“Before I realized how wrong I’d been all those years.”

“You weren’t wrong, darling. It was your mother who was wrong.”

Again, Joy recalled the conversation she’d carried on with her mother in that cottonwood tree. She drew away slightly from Elijah, who drew her back again. She smiled, deciding she could think as well in this position as any other. “I—I wonder if my mother meant to be cruel.”

“Maybe not. It doesn’t make much difference. The result was the same. She whupped you into submission.”

She sighed again. “You’re right, of course. And she was cruel, whether she meant to be or not. She was cruel to my poor father, too.”

“Yeah. That’s too bad. Of course, your dad could have stood up to her and didn’t. It took more backbone than he had, I guess.”

“I guess.” She gasped when she felt Elijah’s hand on her breast, unbound tonight since she was in her nightgown. His hand felt good there, and her nipples began to pebble. She wondered what this would lead to, and decided she was interested in finding out.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, Joy.” Elijah’s voice had gone gravelly. “But I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time now.”

“You have?” Her own voice quivered with trepidation and happiness.

“I have. A long, long time.”

“Mercy sakes.”

Neither of them spoke for a while after that. As the storm crashed and raged outside Mac’s snug little store, Elijah proceeded to give Joy her very first lesson in the art of lovemaking.

He started slowly. Joy appreciated his restraint because having a man’s hands touching such intimate places on her body took some getting used to. Her mother’s voice remained blessedly silent, however, and Elijah was so skilled at what he was doing that she adjusted quickly. His voice, low and rumbling, shocked her.

“You have beautiful breasts, Joy. I’ve been wanting to do this forever.”

What he was doing that he’d wanted to do for so long was squeeze her breasts, teasing her nipples until she thought she might scream with the sheer pleasure of it.

“I—” She had to clear her throat. “I didn’t know people talked at times like this.”

He laughed again, low in his throat. The seductive sound shot through her this time, and lodged in several indelicate places. Merciful heavens, so this was what being loved by a man felt like. Joy was almost glad she’d never known before, or she’d have had an even harder time of it than she’d had already.

She sat on Elijah’s lap, lost in sensation, her insides thundering and crashing much as the storm was doing outside. When Elijah pulled back slightly, took his hands from her breasts, and cupped her head with them, she blinked, confused. Good Lord, he wasn’t going to stop now, was he? Joy opened her mouth to protest, but discovered her vocal chords wouldn’t work.

Elijah stared deeply into her eyes. His own appeared much too serious for Joy’s comfort. She hoped he wasn’t going to withdraw his offer of marriage. Not now, when she was so deeply in love with him. Not now, when she was on the verge of discovering new and miraculous things with him.

“Joy,” he said, and his voice was no more than a tender croak. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll never hurt you if I can help it. What I want to do from now on in my life is protect and cherish you.”

If that wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her, Joy didn’t know what was. She tried to speak again, and again she discovered she couldn’t. In fact, her tonsils didn’t seem to want to do anything but make soft little purring sounds. She kissed his wonderful lips to let him know she loved him and appreciated his kind words. He kissed her back and kept kissing her until he drew back once more, breathing hard.

“Don’t distract me, Joy. I have something serious to talk to you about.”

This didn’t sound good. She squinted at him, not wanting to be distracted by serious things at the moment.

“I want to make love to you,” Elijah declared, sounding shaky. “But I don’t want to frighten you or scare you.”

Joy was so touched, she nearly cried. Since she figured Elijah might not survive if she burst into tears, she swallowed them and made a valiant effort to get her voice to work. “I love you, Elijah.” She considered that a good start. “And I want to make love to you, too.” Of course, she didn’t know how, but she figured Elijah would take care of the particulars. She saw him swallow.

“I talked to Mac after you went to bed, Joy. He said the circuit rider should be here any day now. I don’t want you to think I’m only taking advantage of you. I’m going to marry you whether you want to marry me or not.”

She smiled. “I want to marry you, Elijah. And I want to help you run your hotel here in Rio Hondo.”

He swallowed again. “You do? I mean, you mean that? You don’t want to go back to Boston? Really?”

“Auburn.” Joy heaved a sigh, half amused and half exasperated that he insisted on keeping up his teasing even now. “Yes, Elijah. I really mean that. I was stifled in Auburn. I learned how to live here. With you. I’m not about to give that up. Not even for civilization and restaurants and decent linen.”

He continued to stare at her for several moments. Joy held her breath and wished he’d get on with it. She didn’t want to lose the mood. Not that there was much chance of that.

Suddenly, he grabbed her close to his chest and buried his face in her hair. Joy was glad she hadn’t braided it for bed yet. She felt wild and free with her hair down and her corset off.

“Thank God,” he murmured. “Thank God.” He sounded very sincere.

Then he kissed her again, and Joy could feel a change in his approach. There was nothing tentative about this kiss; nothing soft and sweet. This kiss was hard and deep and she could tell he meant it.

Thank the good Lord for small mercies. She kissed him back with all the love in her heart.

“We can’t very well make love in this chair,” he growled after a moment.

“No?”

“No.” He picked her up and carried her to the bed. Joy was delighted. “We need a bed.”

“How fortunate there’s one handy.”

His laugh came again, deep, rumbling, and so sweet that Joy wanted to curl up and die in it. With a gentleness that seemed foreign in him, he set her on the bed. Before she knew what she was about, he’d unburdened her of her nightgown. She opened her eyes wide, shocked that she should be sitting on the bed, buck naked, with Elijah Perry staring at her with the avid expression of a starving man eyeing a steak. She felt herself flush, and tried to cross her arms over her breasts.

He caught her hands before she succeeded. “No, Joy. Let me look at you. You’re beautiful. You’re a perfect, gorgeous woman. Don’t hide yourself. Not from me. I love you. I’m going to be your husband any day now.”

She gulped and nodded.

His smile showed her his perfect understanding of her discomfiture. “All right, I’ll stop pestering you. But I’m warning you to prepare yourself, because I’m going to join you right now.” With that, he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Mercy,” she whispered as he revealed himself. He truly was a magnificent example of the male animal. His arms were corded with muscle, and his chest was magnificent, even with the scar from that dreadful bullet hole. And if his belly wasn’t as firm as it might be, and if his hair was silvering and receding, to Joy he was the most perfect man in the universe. Her heart filled with such a potent combination of love and longing as she watched him disrobe that she feared she might faint.

Then he pushed his trousers down, baring the lower portion of his anatomy, and Joy’s mouth dropped open and her eyes opened wide. Good heavens!

She’d nursed Elijah Perry for weeks, and she’d seen his naked body before. Although profoundly unnerved as she’d done it, she’d bandaged his thigh and even seen his . . . thing . . . as she’d tended him. She’d never seen it in this condition, though.

Elijah read her thoughts. “Don’t be afraid, Joy. I won’t hurt you.”

“But . . . but . . . it’s so . . . big.”

He laughed again. Joy wasn’t sure she appreciated a laugh at the moment. Naturally, this was nothing to him. Merely one more sexual experience. But to her, it was new and . . . and—her eyes were drawn once more to his erect sex—astonishing.

Before she could leap from the bed and run screaming from the room, Elijah plopped down next to her and put his arms around her. “It’s all right, Joy. Men and women have been doing this from the beginning of time.”

She turned to stare at him. What he said was true, she reckoned. But she hadn’t done this before, and she was scared spitless.

“Here, darling, let me show you how good it can be.”

Her eyes nearly popped from her head when he took her hand and gently guided it to his sex. Merciful heavens, did people really do that? Good people, that is? It was hard and silky and hot, and very, very different from anything she’d ever touched before. Fascinated, Joy felt it tentatively. Elijah groaned, and she let go as if she’d been handling a live coal.

“There’s nothing wrong with the act of love, Joy,” Elijah said, as if he’d read her mind. “This is how babies are made. This is how the human race is perpetuated. This is what we have to do in order to get enough kids in the family to keep the business going.”

His words were so unexpected that Joy actually forgot her fear and laughed. “I see. So that’s your motivation, is it?”

He laughed, too. “Not entirely. Here, I’ll take over now.”

Thank God. Joy didn’t say so aloud, but she was vastly relieved.

With exquisite care, Elijah pressed her back onto the bed. Then his hands began an inventory of her body that had Joy squirming and breathless in seconds. Sensations danced over her skin. Everywhere Elijah’s hands touched her, she felt hot. She, whose life had been cold and lonely and barren, who had believed God meant her only to suffer, discovered that He had created a magnificent way for a man and a woman to come together and create new life.

God created this, she realized with a jolt. Could anything God created be evil? Of course not. It was people who made a mess of God’s creations, as her mother had done with her. It was people who twisted the good and rendered it bad. She and Elijah loved and honored each other and, what’s more, they were going to be married as soon as the preacher showed up. This wasn’t bad; it was as close to heaven as Joy expected she’d ever get on earth.

And, with that realization, the very last of her trepidation dissipated like so much steam. Which was a good thing, since Elijah’s hand had traveled to her most intimate place, and had begun to probe gently.

“Elijah!”

He kissed her deeply as his fingers rubbed and dipped. She gasped into his mouth and felt him smile.

“Does that feel good, Joy. I want you to feel good.”

Did it feel good? He didn’t honestly expect an answer to that, did he? He couldn’t possibly. Her hips had begun to arch as he gently rubbed the erect nub of sensation located between her legs.

“That’s the way,” Elijah whispered. “This is how it’s done, Joy. It’s supposed to feel good to both of us.”

So that’s what that was for. Joy had often wondered, during moments of agony when she’d been sure she was evil and wicked and headed straight to the devil for feeling things she’d been taught were depraved.

Good heavens, she was wet down there! Was she supposed to be wet? Her eyes opened and she scanned Elijah’s face.

As if he understood, he whispered, “That’s the way, Joy. Your body is getting ready for mine. This is exactly what’s supposed to happen.”

Thank the Lord. She’d been worried there for a moment. Grateful to him for his understanding, she relaxed again and decided to give up worrying and enjoy herself. Heaven alone knew that Elijah Perry, of all people, would want her to.

A groan escaped her as Elijah’s magic fingers continued to rub and probe her secrets. Pressure built up in her body, pressure that was half pleasure and half frustration. Without knowing exactly what she was straining for, Joy strained, her body going alternately tense and slack.

Elijah murmured soft, sweet words of love in her ear. She expected he was watching her, but didn’t bother to look. Too many things were happening too quickly for her to take notice of any one of them.

She felt as though he were driving her to some precipice, and she had to get there or die. As sensations built in her body, she strained to achieve whatever it was. And then it happened. Out of the blue, Elijah’s steady, gentle teasing sent her over the edge, and Joy gasped as her body stiffened and then convulsed with her climax.

“Beautiful,” Elijah murmured. “Wonderful. Gorgeous.”

Joy heard the words, but couldn’t comprehend their meaning. So caught up was she in sensation that she could make sense of nothing but the fantastic sense of release and completion Elijah had created in her.

Her brain was mush. She panted like a racehorse that had just won the Belmont Stakes. Her mouth dry as cotton, she still managed to whisper, “Mercy sakes.”

Elijah’s chuckle was music to her ears. “So, you think you’re going to like this part of the married state, do you?”

She cricked one eye open and found him. It wasn’t difficult, since he leaned over her and was inspecting her face as if he feared for her health. “Oh, yes. Oh, yes indeed.”

He grinned the wickedest grin she’d ever seen, and she realized she absolutely adored his wicked grins. In fact, she adored everything about this marvelous, baffling gambling man. Soon to be her very own marvelous, baffling hotel keeper and husband. With a burst of energy she didn’t know she possessed, Joy threw her arms around him and kissed him with all the ardor in her soul.

Elijah seemed delighted. He pressed her back against the sheets once more and positioned himself over her. She figured it was his turn now, and braced herself. Her mother had taught her absolutely nothing about the marriage bed except that, if any man was ever foolish enough to marry her, Joy should keep her mouth shut, her eyes squeezed tight, and do her duty without complaint.

Duty be hanged. Joy was so eager to feel Elijah in her that she didn’t hesitate a second. As he very gently probed her damp secret with his sex, she arched her hips and captured him. With a gasp of surprise, Elijah plunged in.

It didn’t hurt nearly as much as Joy had been led to expect. She felt rather like she’d been skewered by an extremely large cucumber, but overall, the sensation was new and interesting rather than frightening or painful.

Then Elijah, after taking a moment to recover, began moving in her, and Joy realized how very wrong her mother had been. She should have expected it. Her mother had been wrong about everything else; why not this?

Her second climax came as almost more of a surprise than her first one. This one was sweeter, though, because, with a wild cry, Elijah toppled over the precipice with her.

Joy had never been happier in her life than she was when Elijah collapsed at her side, drew her into his arms, and dropped little kisses over her face. He was panting like a racehorse, too, and Joy loved him ever so much.

“I’ve never been happier in my life, Joy,” he said, echoing her sentiments.

She couldn’t stand it any longer. She cried.