36

By the time Jake and Hattie checked out of their suite, neither remembered their wedding-day qualms. The closest reminder their union was different from some was when Jake cut himself with his straight-edge razor and allowed the blood to drip on the hotel sheet as they were packing to leave the room. His dark eyes met Hattie’s puzzled gaze. “People talk in this town,” he murmured in masterful understatement.

Two weeks later, school closed for the summer. Hattie bid her students a final farewell and went home to the Murdock Ranch to take up management of the ranch house. When that didn’t take up enough of her time, she worked in the garden. Gradually, Jake also found chores for her involving the horses, and she spent her days in a haze of happiness so intense it was almost scary. Surely, feelings this wonderful could not last.

She had always held strong feelings for Jake. She’d loved him for rarely treating her like a child even when she was one, and for his conversation, which had never been condescending—despite her female status and lack of years. She’d loved him for showing respect to her opinions, and for his sense of humor. Not in her wildest dreams, however, had she expected him to restore her confidence as a woman.

Hattie always knew she wasn’t a beauty. Occasionally she’d wondered if the town’s opinion of her might have been different had she been. Personal doubts of that nature were rare, however. Mostly she’d simply possessed a headstrong confidence originating from something other than a pretty reflection in the mirror. Then Roger Lord assailed her unassailable sense of womanliness and stole something from her more precious than her virginity.

Jake gave it back. He made her feel wanted with an intensity she’d never experienced. Made her feel needed. He talked to her. He listened to her. He made her laugh. His desire for her was insatiable and honored no timetable.

Hattie assumed when they returned to everyday life, lovemaking would be reserved for the hours after dark. Jake quickly disabused her of the notion. With the feeblest pretexts, he often returned to the ranch house in broad daylight and once there didn’t even bother maintaining the charade. He just grabbed her by the hand and hauled her up to their room. He woke her in the morning with his mouth and his hands; he loved her at night. Praising her all the while.

For the first time in her twenty-one years, Hattie felt it was desirable to have red hair, because Jake thought it beautiful and constantly said so. He extolled the beauty of her eyes, the desirability of her lips. He paid tribute in embarrassingly frank detail to her body. He flattered her outrageously, yet with a patent sincerity that made her feel like the loveliest woman on earth. His words, his hands, and his body healed what another man had wounded.

Through Jake’s brand of loving, she discovered sex between a man and a woman could sometimes be violent. But it was a leashed violence comprised of shocking words, gripping hands, escalating sensations, and a demanding mouth with no apparent boundaries. Never from a desire to hurt. Even at Jake’s most uncontrolled, he was aware of their differing strengths.

Hattie was secretly convinced that many of the things he did to her were assuredly sins. They were simply too bold and felt much too good to be otherwise. Jake, however, insisted they weren’t. And when she questioned the propriety of a touch or the placement of his mouth, he had a way of just forging ahead and finishing what he’d begun. And it felt so good—felt so right—she never questioned him twice. After all, as he so often whispered, it was allowed. They were married.

Truly, though, who did he think he was fooling? She doubted a quarter of the married people in Mattawa did a fraction of the bedroom things Jake dreamed up.

Jake believed he was fooling Hattie. Not making a fool of her—hell, never that. But rather simply taking advantage of her naive trust. God, she was a miracle, so honest and genuine. And so. Damn. Enthusiastic.

Hattie believed she was plain, but Jake found her a feast for the eyes, unequaled by the greatest beauties in the world. And her responsiveness when they made love was the biggest miracle of all. Her experience with the rapist could have scarred her for life. God knew, Jane-Ellen had feared and repulsed Jake’s advances with far less reason. But Hattie turned into his arms at the slightest touch. She kissed him back; she denied him nothing. He knew he’d shocked her more than once in the ways he touched her. Yet as soon as he told her it was allowed, they were married, she offered herself up with renewed gusto.

It made him grin and feel cagey as a fox in a henhouse. Hell, he had dozens of new ideas to make her explode in pleasure, and eventually he’d use them all, with his handy refrain readied for backup should she fear once again it was sinful. His standard justification was so perfect, because who was she going to ask? Luckily for him, women didn’t discuss sex with each other. Or so he thought. Until the day he came back to the ranch house for a little unscheduled loving and found Hattie and Nell deep in discussion in the parlor.

He stopped unseen in the doorway when he realized Nell was there, battling disappointment. Then he shrugged it aside. There was always later, and Hattie had missed her friend’s company. He watched them for a moment.

Their heads were together, cups of tea untouched on the table in front of them, while Nell, her expression a curious mixture of disbelief and rapt wonder, hung on to every word Hattie whispered to her. Hattie was using her hands to illustrate her words, spreading her thumb and index finger wide of each other as though to demonstrate a measurement. Then she added something in a low voice and her two hands spread about a foot and a half apart, looking for all the world like a fisherman describing the one that got away.

Nell looked downright horrified and Jake’s curiosity got the best of him. He strolled into the room. “What in tarnation are you ladies discussing? Looks mighty interesting.”

Two heads whipped in his direction, hot color staining faces that were a study in consternation. Nell’s glance skittered nervously off the front of his pants, then quickly rose to stare unseeingly over his shoulder. And comprehension exploded in Jake’s brain. By God, his wife was telling her friend how his cock changed size when he was aroused—and giving more credit to his hard stage, he might add, than he fairly deserved.

For the first time in an age, Jake blushed. And he couldn’t even look at Nell. “Hattie?” he croaked. “Uh, could I see you out in the hall for a moment? Excuse us, won’t you?” he added to the top of Nell’s downcast pompadour.

“Of course,” Nell murmured in reply, speaking to her cup of tepid tea, which she’d picked up from the table in front of her. My goodness, it must be true then. She thought Hattie was funning her, until she’d seen the look on Jake’s face when he realized what they were discussing. Perhaps she and Moses should reconsider their marriage plans.

Then again, Hattie did say it was the most marvelous experience. And she was clearly happier than Nell had ever seen her.

Hattie grinned at her husband’s embarrassment as she trailed him out into the hall, quickly attempting to wipe the smile from her face when he whirled to face her.

“You were discussing our sex life?” he demanded in a low voice choked with disbelief. He ran his fingers through his hair, staring down at her. “Good God Almighty, Hattie!”

Hattie looped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, pressing her breasts into his chest. “Shouldn’t I?” she whispered innocently, then added with wicked emphasis, “Isn’t it allowed?” She raised her head to press a soft kiss on his lips. Pulled back. “After all, we are married.”

Jake had a hard time thinking straight when she did things like that, but a wry grin finally twisted his lips. She was onto that, was she? He should know better than to underestimate her. He ran his knuckles down her smooth cheek. “We are, Big-eyes, but Nell’s not.”

“No, but she and Moses are talking about getting married sometime in the not-too-distant future. I just thought I’d give her a little information so she wouldn’t be as unprepared as I was.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said in a low voice, his hands on her backside pressing her closer to him. “You were a pretty quick study. If Moses is half as lucky as I am, Nell will be too.” He pulled away before he gave in to the temptation to drag her into the closet beneath the stairs. “I have to get back to work. Try to confine your conversation to something innocuous while I’m gone, will you?”

“Why, certainly, Jacob,” she agreed demurely. “Whatever you say.”

Jake didn’t believe her demure act for a minute. If he knew his Hattie—and he was learning more about her all the time—she’d be back in the parlor within seconds of his departure, imparting all sorts of scandalous facts. In boundless detail, no doubt.