“Knowing Doyle, I’d guess he’s paying a go-between,” Joe said.
“That’s what I think, too.” Blake buttered a fresh biscuit. “Find the go-between, and if he talks, we’ve got Doyle. Maybe that will stop the raids.”
* * *
Hanna lay in the dark, the baby asleep in the bassinet next to her bed. From the other side of the hanging quilt, she could hear Blake stirring in his bed, making restless sounds, tossing and shifting. Was he as worried as she was? Did he feel as helpless as she did, with a range war hanging in the balance and her loved ones in danger? She sat up, the bed creaking as she rearranged her bedding.
“Are you all right, Hanna?” His low voice came through the quilt.
“Yes.” She kept her words to a whisper, not wanting to wake the baby. “I’m just scared, that’s all. Why do people have to do terrible things to each other?”
“That’s a question for the ages, and we’re not going to answer it tonight. But if you want to talk, come here.”
Her pulse lurched. Was he asking her to join him in his bed, if only to talk? She slipped her feet to the floor and lifted a corner of the hanging quilt. The room was dark, but she could make out the narrow bed, the covers thrown back, with Blake, clad in his drawers, lying on his side to leave a place for her. She knew where this could lead, and she knew it was what she wanted. But what if something went wrong? What if she made a fool of herself?
The room was chilly. She was shivering.
“Come on, I’ll spoon you,” he said. “We can keep each other warm.”
Holding down the hem of her muslin nightgown, she eased into the bed beside him, her head sharing the pillow and her rump resting in the hollow between his belly and his thighs. His body was warm and, like the sheets and pillow, smelled of fresh pine and clean sweat. As she inhaled the comforting man scent, her tense body began to relax. Blake always made her feel safe.
“Better?” He laid an arm across her waist.
“Warmer, at least. But I’m still scared. Anything could be happening out there, with my father and Alvar standing up to those raiders.”
“The raiders will be looking to terrorize helpless people. Tonight, the settlers are showing the kind of grit even the Calders have to respect. If the raiders see armed men guarding the place, they won’t chance it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Nobody can be sure. But listen, Hanna. Close your eyes, be still, and you’ll hear it.”
When Hanna closed her eyes and held her breath, she heard it—the roll of incoming thunder and the spattering sound of rain against the window.
“There’ll be no barn-burning tonight.” His arm tightened around her. “With luck, the rain will keep everybody indoors.”
She began to breathe again, her senses opening like flower petals to his warm nearness, his heart beating against her back, his legs lightly tangled with hers. After the uncertainties of their marriage, it felt right to be here, snuggling close, in the same bed. It was like coming home.
I love you, Blake. Let me be a wife to you. She wanted to say it aloud, but her courage failed her.
She lay still against him, eyes closed, feeling the raw need in her newly healed body, the pulsing sensation in its sensitive depths. Her swollen breasts tingled. Once she’d heard a friend of her mother’s say that nursing a baby made a woman want her man. At the time, she hadn’t understood. Now she did.
His breath was warm against the back of her neck. Hanna’s pulse skipped as he nuzzled a spot behind her ear. A moan of pleasure rose in her throat. Driven by nature, she moved her hips and felt the jutting rise of his arousal through her nightgown. She felt no fear. Just a woman’s need to touch and be touched, to feel her husband inside her.
This man had willingly married her, taken her child as his own, honored her as his wife, cherished and protected her. But over time, the respect and gratitude she’d felt had warmed into a blazing desire that roused in her every time she looked at him or heard his voice.
* * *
She turned in his arms, meeting a kiss that released all the need he’d restrained for so long. His hands pushed up the skirt of her nightgown and moved over her body, her breasts swollen and aching for his touch, her belly still soft from pregnancy.
“Yes,” she whispered, as if he needed to hear. “I want you, Blake. I’m yours.”
His only response was a breathy mutter that sounded something like, “You’re damned right you are.” He had shed his drawers and was fully aroused, his erection hard against her hip. His hand moved between her thighs, parting the sensitive layers with a touch that sent shimmers through her body. With every part of her alive and glowing, she opened to him like a flower, wrapping him with her legs as he mounted her and pushed inside. The tenderness from the birth only heightened the feel of him inside her as he began to thrust. She gasped with wonder at the shape and size of him, pushing gently at first, then with an urgency that carried her to a shuddering climax. Waves of sensation rippled through her, sweeter and more powerful than anything she could have imagined.
He laughed softly as she lay quivering beneath him. Then he moved again, and she felt his release break inside her. She sighed with the pure joy of it. He was her husband now, and she was his wife in every sense of the word. The emotion that swept through her was so powerful that it brought tears to her eyes. This was what she was born for—to belong to this man, to share his life and create their future family.
“I love you, Blake,” she whispered.
“I love you, too. And I’m talking about forever.” He withdrew gently and gathered her close. “Now, Mrs. Dollarhide, what do you say we get some sleep?”
* * *
When Hanna woke to the sound of her fussing baby, Blake was gone. The first light of dawn glowed through the window as she lifted her son out of the bassinet and settled back against the pillow. Her breasts were sore and swollen, the tiny boy hungry and eager for milk.
After last night, she’d looked forward to waking in her husband’s arms. But he’d slipped out of the room without disturbing her or leaving any clue to where he’d gone or why he’d left.
By the time she’d finished nursing Little Joe, the room was lighter. She could see that Blake’s clothes and boots were missing. Maybe he’d gotten word of some emergency at the mill or on the cattle range.
After settling the baby in his bassinet, she dressed quietly, walked out through the parlor, and onto the front porch.
The rainstorm had moved on, leaving the air fresh and sweet with the fragrance of damp earth. The sky was clear with a pale moon setting in the west. Except for the sound of waking birds, the dawn was peaceful, with no sign of movement anywhere, and no sign of Blake. She could check the stable for his horse, but she would most likely find it gone. She could only conclude that Blake had left on some mysterious errand of his own making—and all she could do was wait and hope it didn’t involve danger. Now that they’d made love, everything seemed more precious.
* * *
As the sky paled, Blake rode across the pastureland, taking the shortest route to the wheat farms that lay north and east of Blue Moon. In spite of last night’s rain, there could have been a clash between homesteaders and raiders. He knew that Hanna was worried for her family and neighbors. He was worried, too. He wouldn’t be able to tell her what had happened until he saw for himself. If he found everything quiet, he could return to her with the news that all was well. If there had been violence, especially if the news was tragic, he wanted to bring it to her himself.