40

Jake tore open all the drawers of the wardrobe. Half of them were empty, and those that weren’t held his clothing. All of Hattie’s were gone.

Throwing back his head, he roared his incensed pain at the ceiling. Then, sucking in a deep breath, he held it a moment, then expelled it with such force his lungs felt ready to collapse. Standing in their bedroom, gripping the back of his neck with clammy fingers as he fought down the panic trying to battle its way out of his chest like an enraged beast, he stared numbly at the empty drawers he’d yanked open. Jesus, where could she have gone?

And how the hell did she get there? Maybe that was where he should begin. He’d check the stables to see if Belle was there.

Hattie, in the spare room across the hall, listened to the commotion in their bedroom, then the thunder of Jake’s footsteps as he ran down the stairs swearing a blue streak. A moment later she jolted at the slamming of the front door. It sounded as if he was aggravated.

Good. She was livid herself, and she hoped he went crazy. He deserved nothing less.

She’d been doing a slow burn ever since Nell’s visit. How dare Jake discuss her attack with others when he hadn’t said more than ten words to his wife in darn near two weeks? He couldn’t even look at her, yet Nell had innocently informed her he’d been running around asking questions of Nell, Aunt Augusta, Doc, and who knew who else?

Discovering that Jake knew the identity of Hattie’s rapist, Nell had been concerned about Hattie’s state of mind. After all, Nell knew how adamantly opposed Hattie was to Jake’s learning the precise thing he had somehow figured out. So, she had come to lend Hattie moral support.

Hattie appreciated Nell’s company more than she could say. She hadn’t been off the ranch in ten long days, not even to go to church, and not a soul had been by to visit. Just having her friend treat her normally after Jake’s ignoring her was such a welcome relief.

For the first time since the awful night Jake discovered the identity of her defiler, Hattie felt as if she’d finally stopped growing invisible. Nell had looked her in the eye and touched her several times in the course of their conversation. The human contact after what felt like a too-long lifetime had been more comforting to Hattie than water after a week in the desert.

She wished she had a whole lot less stupid pride. Maybe then she could have confessed how horridly interminable the dog-years-feeling days had been. But she was a self-sabotaging idiot who had merely told Nell that matters were very uncomfortable between herself and Jake—but they were working through their problems. What a bald-faced liar she was turning into, and it was All. Jake’s. Fault!

It was his fault, as well, that she hadn’t begged Nell to stay the moment her friend started gathering her things to head back to Augusta’s. As a result, all Hattie’s rage, which had relaxed the worst of its grip under Nell’s calming influence, promptly returned. And the later the hour with no sign of Jake, the more furious she became. Finally, unable to sit still, she went up to their room and moved her belongings to the room across the hall. How dare he treat her this way?

The more Hattie thought about it, the more belligerent she felt. To think she had spent ten endless days feeling the most degrading shame over something that was the result of Jake’s actions in the first place! Well, no more. She was through hanging her head.

Now, sitting in the middle of the bed, anxiously gripping her hands together and listening to the sudden silence left by his departure, Hattie thought self-righteously that Jake was pretty darn lucky he didn’t know where she was tonight. Because if she had to confront him right now, she would likely wring his neck. She bounced up off the bed and crossed to the dresser. Picking up her silver-backed brush, she tugged it roughly through her hair once, twice, three times. Then she threw the brush back down on the tabletop. Leaning into the mirror, she examined her face.

She looked rather horrid. Scowling, she stood tapping her foot in indecision. Then she yanked out the slipper chair and sat with a flounce, her arms crossed militantly beneath her breasts, her toes manically clenching and flexing. Lifting the concealing hem of her nightgown, she leaned over to watch her feet’s baffling antics. Dropping her hem in disgust, she jumped up again and commenced pacing.

The front door slammed shut and footsteps thundered up the stairs and down the hall, stopping in front of her room. Hattie jerked to a halt and stared at the locked door separating her from her husband.

Jake rattled the handle, and when it didn’t budge he pounded on the door. “Hattie!” he bellowed. “Open the damn door. I know you’re in there.”

No, he didn’t. How could he?

As if she’d asked him, he said impatiently, “Open up! I saw your light from the yard.”

Well, rats. She hadn’t considered that. “Go away!”

“Open the goddamn door,” he roared, “before I break it down!”

“Well, if that isn’t just like a man to settle his disagreements by brute strength,” she muttered. She didn’t think he’d heard her, but he must have, for there was a moment’s silence.

“C’mon, Big-eyes,” he finally said in a calmer voice. “Open up. We need to talk.”

Of all the words he could have chosen, those were the most unfortunate. “Talk?” She slammed back the bolt and ripped the door open. They were suddenly face-to-face, Jake mere inches away. “You want to talk? To little ole me? Mercy, this is a privilege. What happened—you run out of people in town to discuss my downfall with?”

“Huh?” He stared down into her upturned face. She glared right back at him. But when he reached out to touch her cheek, she snapped her head back and he let his hand fall to his side. “Hattie, why’d you move out of our room?”

“Oh, you noticed? Mercy, it never occurred to me it might matter to you one way or the other,” she replied coolly, “or else I certainly would’ve been happy to inform you of my intention.” Another bald-faced lie; what on earth was happening to her? “What do you care, anyway?” she challenged angrily. “You don’t sleep there anymore. Why should I? And don’t change the subject, Jake Murdock. Nell told me the way you’ve been running around town asking everybody in sight about my rape. If you’re so darn interested you should have come straight to the source. After all, I know all the ugly details someone else may have missed.” She couldn’t sustain her nonchalant attitude and, to her horror, felt her face twist in misery.

“Ah, baby, don’t.” This time he ignored her resistance and pulled her into his arms. She held herself stiffly within his embrace as he rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. “I guess I should have talked to you first, but I didn’t know how. I was too ashamed.”

Furious, Hattie jerked out of his arms. “How dare you!”

He looked at her in puzzlement. “How dare I what?”

“How dare you be ashamed of me! I—”

“What?” He closed the distance between them, looming over her. “Now, wait a damn minute, I never said—”

“No, you wait, Jacob Murdock,” she demanded, poking her forefinger into the hard muscles of his chest. “I’ve done nothing but wait for ten long days! I have been skulking around this big old house like a thief in the night, shamed to my bones because I knew you were so repulsed by me you couldn’t even look at me anymore. Well, enough is enough.”

Jake stared at her in openmouthed amazement and her rage burned a few degrees hotter. “You wanted to talk so darn bad? Well, let’s talk, then. I have several things that need saying.”

Jake grabbed Hattie’s finger when she showed signs of jabbing it into his chest once again and gently enclosed it in his fist. He stared down at her, at her flushed cheeks, her bright hair writhing around her in a wild tangle, her amber eyes glinting with rage between narrowed lashes. And for the first time in far too long, the tight knots of misery in his stomach loosened as he experienced the first faint stirring of hope. “Go ahead, then. Shoot.”

Now that Hattie had his attention, she didn’t know quite where to begin. She longed to slug him, bite him, kick him; she wanted to revile him for the wrongs he had done her: for sending her to Roger, for deserting their bed and making her feel like a harlot, for failing to ask her what he felt free enough to ask everyone else in town. But mostly for not loving her with the same desperation with which she loved him.

Then, abruptly, her rage abandoned her and she was left with only her unrelenting honesty and a grinding hurt deep in her breast. “I don’t understand you,” she whispered, staring at his sun-browned hand, feeling its texture, hard as saddle leather, gripping her captured finger. She’d grown accustomed to seeing him in work clothes, so the contrast between his work-roughened hands and his civilized apparel was disconcerting. She tugged experimentally and he tightened his grip for an instant before loosening it to let her finger slide free.

Hattie took a step back and looked at him as though he were an exotic species she had never come across before. “You knew I wasn’t a virgin when we married and it never appeared to bother you very much,” she said in honest bafflement. “I mean, I never expected you to love me the way you did Jane-Ellen, ’cause I’m not pure and good the way she was, but—”

Jake stiffened and took a step forward, but Hattie backed away, her hands balled into fists, her knuckles pressed into her diaphragm as though to control a physical pain. Tipping her head back, she met his undoubtedly turbulent stare with unconscious pride. “But I was good enough to make love to! Several times a day, every darn day! Why did that all change once you had a name to put to the man who’d had me before you? Why, Jake? If it’s a question of virtue, you knew I was a sinner when you married me. What was suddenly so different you had to turn away like I was diseased?”

“Stop!” Jake’s arm snaked out and hooked an elbow around the back of her neck, his hand wrapped around to grip her jaw, tilting her face up, arching her neck. She stared at him with wide, hurt eyes and he felt his own fill with tears of remorse. “Please . . . stop,” he whispered hoarsely, then lowered his head and kissed her with hot intent.

As always when Jake touched her, all else ceased to matter. Hattie couldn’t sustain her anger, her hurt. She kissed him back.

Abruptly releasing her, he turned away, dashing his knuckles over his eyes before plowing his fingers through his hair. He looked at her over his shoulder. “It wasn’t you who was unclean,” he said in a low, raw voice. “It was me. I was never ashamed of you; do you hear me? Never. I was sick-to-my-soul ashamed of me!” He turned to face her fully. “How could I look at you once I knew what I’d done? How could I ever touch you again? Christ, you’re so sweet and pure and giving, and I turned you over to that brutalizing bastard just the way you once told me you had been: on a silver platter!”

Mouth ajar, Hattie stared at him, mentally scrambling to rearrange everything she’d believed to be true to absorb what he just said. With each fresh beat, her heart began to grow lighter. Why, it had never occurred to her— “Yes, you did,” she agreed slowly. “And for nearly two years I hated you for it, Jacob.”

He flinched and she slowly approached, reaching out to stroke a tentative hand down his jacket sleeve. “But you know what I couldn’t forget?” she asked as their eyes met. “I couldn’t forget the feelings you made me feel the first time you kissed me—the first time you touched me the way a man should touch a woman. And I understood for the first time that was how it was supposed to be when a man and a woman were together like that. Not hurtful or degrading or ugly, the way Roger made it, but rather sort of anxious and eager, a feeling so out of control and wonderful it makes you want more, to feel even better. Between Nell’s friendship and remembering those feelings, I began to heal.” She walked her fingers up his arm and touched the soft-skinned crease in his cheek with gentle fingertips. “I wish more than anything you had been the one to take my virginity.”

His eyes were dark with pain. “So do I, Hattie-girl.”

“But you weren’t, Jake, and it’s over. We can’t change the past. I will never give you the details of that night, Jacob, or even talk about it if I can help it. But I won’t throw it in your face for the rest of our lives, either. I love you, you know, and I have done so longer and more fiercely than I ever hated you. I don’t know if you can ever love me the way you did Jane-Ellen, but—”

Jake cut her words off midstream when he swooped in and swept her off her feet. He tossed her slightly, then caught her again, holding her high against his chest as he carried her across the hall to their bedroom, where he dropped her in a billow of nightgown on the bed. “Let’s get something straight,” he said, staring down at her. Holding her gaze, he stripped off his celluloid collar and cuffs and threw them in the general direction of the dressing table. Reaching for the buttons on his shirt, he stated, “I love you, Hattie. More than I have ever loved anyone in my life. More than this ranch, more than the air I breathe, I love you.”

He pulled his shirt off and kicked off his shoes, then dropped onto the bed beside her. Scooting back until he was leaning against the headboard, he reached for his wife, pulling her into his arms. “I loved Jane-Ellen when we got married, but it was more of a young man’s fancy than the love of a mature man. I was mostly in love with the idea of getting her into bed.”

Hattie blushed, and tucking his chin to gaze down into her beloved face, he kissed her forehead. “We didn’t have much in common, me and Jane-Ellen; not like you and I do. You know she didn’t like the ranch very much except for the house. She flat-out hated sex.”

When his wife looked up at him in amazement, he half smiled and pressed her cheek to rest against the upper curve of his chest. Rubbing his chin against the top of her head, he gazed blindly across the room. “I felt like a polecat whenever I forced myself on her. She never wanted me.” He tucked his chin again in order to see Hattie’s face. “Remember being embarrassed on our wedding night because you were wet when I touched you?” She nodded, cheeks rosy with what he feared was remembered mortification. He smoothed tendrils away from her face.

“I thought your body getting ready, you being wet for me, was the most miraculous thing ever, Hattie. You wanted me as much as I wanted you, even after having been abused in the worst way. I could have died right then a happy man. Jane-Ellen was always dry, and she thought anything I tried to do to rectify the situation was disgusting, so sex for her was uncomfortable at best. I know you think I was a bounder for going to Mamie Parker’s house when I was married to her. I tried to remain faithful, Hattie—I swear I did. But after several years of Jane-Ellen’s rejection, I just wanted to touch someone that way and not feel like a fiend.”

He rubbed his thumb over the fullness of Hattie’s bottom lip for a moment. Then his hand dropped to her upper arm and stroked it absently through the cotton of her gown as he stared at the ceiling. “After she died and you had gone away, I found myself missing you far more than I missed her. I tried not to, baby, but I did. Even though I was consumed with guilt every time I did so, I kept thinking of that night in your room. I cared for her right up till the end but had long ago stopped loving her the way a man should love his wife.”

Studying Jake, it was clear to Hattie the admission still had the power to hurt him. She rubbed her hand comfortingly over the smooth skin of his chest and pressed a kiss into his warm throat. “I love you, Jake.”

“Ah, God, I love you, Hattie. I love you so damn much.”

“And . . . you don’t think me shamefully loose because I like the bedroom things we do?”

“Ah, sweetheart, no. When I touch you and see you’re lovin’ it—it makes me feel ten feet tall. But it’s not just in bed I love you, Big-eyes. More than anything else, these past couple weeks, I’ve missed this.” He waved a hand to indicate the two of them. “Holding you, talking to you. I love the way we laugh together and enjoy the same things and never run out of stuff to say. I love that we can be quiet together, and that you love the ranch as much as I do. I even love the fact we can fight. You are the most exciting woman I have ever known, Hattie Murdock, and I am so damn proud you’re my wife.”

“I guess I can take that to mean you won’t be needing the services of Mamie Parker’s establishment ever again then?” She just wanted to make absolutely sure.

“Baby, I haven’t visited any of her girls since the day I heard you were coming home.”

“You haven’t?”

“Hell, no. Since you seem to have this knack for discovering my transgressions, and considering I had gone to a whole lotta trouble to get you back to Mattawa in the first place, I wasn’t about to louse it up playing fast and loose with the town whores. Besides, they’re pale shadows next to you.”

Hattie sat up. “What do you mean, you went to a whole lotta trouble? Wasn’t it Aurelia Donaldson who . . . ?”

“Oh, yeah, it was. Did I say me? I meant Aurelia.” But his grin was cocky and clearly knew more than it was saying.

She shoved his shoulder, but he just tilted one corner of his grin at her. Raised an eyebrow. “Jake Murdock!” Tell me, her tone demanded.

Jake wrapped one arm across her back, clamped the other over the backs of her thighs just below her bottom, and rolled them over until she was sprawled out on top of him. Hattie stared down at him as he smoothed back her hair, spit out a curly strand that fell across his lips, and explained his part in getting her back to Mattawa.

Hattie couldn’t help preening a little. “So, you were gonna marry me all along?”

“Not to rain on your parade,” he replied dryly, “but I didn’t know what I was going to do. Just knew I had to get you back home.”

“You were gonna marry me.” She grinned at him confidently.

Jake’s eyes darkened. Looping her hair over one shoulder, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I love you, Big-eyes.” Raising his head, he kissed her sweetly.

Hattie kissed him back. But when his head dropped back she nervously smoothed his left eyebrow with the pad of her thumb. “Jake? What have you been doing in town every day?”

“What?” he asked distractedly. Then, as her question sank in, he said in an entirely different tone, “Christ! I never told you.” Sitting up, he dumped her on the mattress beside him and stared into her startled face. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. Sheriff Jacobson arrested Roger Lord tonight. Charged him with rape and assault. We’re gonna put that bastard away.”

Clutching his bare biceps, Hattie hauled herself upright. “What?” she whispered and listened in numb astonishment as Jake told her everything that had transpired today.

“That poor girl,” she said when he finished. “How incredibly brave to put herself in such peril to catch him in the act!”

“Yes, she was extremely brave. I have to admit, I wasn’t immediately all for it. Too many things could’ve gone wrong.”

“Thank goodness they didn’t.”

“Amen. The housekeeper or cook, or whoever the hell she was, just sat there in the kitchen with her hands over her ears to drown out Opal’s screams. I can’t understand that kind of behavior, Hattie. There must have been other servants in the house as well. Why did no one ever try to help her?”

Hattie remembered the racket she too had made and how no one had come then, either. “He must have a financial hold on his help,” she replied slowly. “I can’t imagine any other reason one would ignore someone in such distress.” She started to rise from the bed, but Jake gripped her forearm, staying her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Jacob, let me up.” She pried at his fingers. When he refused to unhand her, she raised her gaze to meet his squarely. “I have to go to her,” she pleaded. “Don’t you see? I am possibly the only one who fully understands what she’s been through and what she’s feeling.”

“Honey, look at the time. Mother and Mirabel were putting Opal to bed when I left. Let her rest, Big-eyes; she needs it. Tomorrow I’ll take you to see her.”

Glancing at the clock, Hattie subsided. “You’re right,” she conceded. “But first thing in the morning, Jacob—”

“First thing in the morning,” he agreed. “Well, second thing,” he amended. “Right after you move all your belongings back in here where they belong.”

“Very well. But the minute we’re done with that.”

He rolled onto his side facing her, then pushed up on an elbow. Hattie stared into his hazel eyes as he reached out his right hand to slip free the top button on her nightgown. “Right now, we have some catching up to do,” he murmured, freeing another button.

“Do we?” Stroking her hand down his stomach, she delighted in his muscles clenching beneath her touch. “Does this ‘catching up’ possibly involve the use of your pride and joy?”

“My pride and—what?” He was baffled for an instant, then threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Yes, ma’am.” His grin was white, quirky, and full of wicked promise. “I have very definite ideas on utilizing the old pride and joy.”

“Ooh.” She wiggled slightly in anticipation. “What, exactly, are you planning?”

Jake leered at her. “The unspeakable, my big-eyed, big-tits, red-haired beauty.” He finished unbuttoning the gown and slid it off her shoulders, easing it to her waist. Hands flat on the mattress on either side of her, he pushed up until he loomed over her prone, half-clad body. He dipped his head to kiss the upper slope of one breast, devoting undivided attention to the task. Then pausing mid-lick, he locked his gaze with hers. “Trust me,” he murmured. “You’re gonna love it.”