Rocky Mountain Dawn (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 1) (8 page)

Her husband leaned over her, trickling a little water into her mouth. "Drink, Esther. The worst has passed. You must hang on for me."

She moved her lips, trying to tell him she would try, but no sound came out.

He bent down and kissed her head. His lips lingered, and she was surprised to feel tears falling on her face.

"You must hold on, Esther. If God takes you, he slays a part of me. The best part." He lay down beside her and gathered her into his arms. "Do not leave me."

She faded out of consciousness, still hearing him plead.

"I need you."

*****

Esther opened her eyes to a brilliant sky filled with pink and orange light. Her bed was moving with a slow, creaking motion. Then the wagon inched round a bend and the mountain range came into view.

"We're here," she said in awe.

The driver twisted back. "That's right, ma'am. Them be the Rockies." He gave her a single tooth grin, and she did her best to return it.

"Gave us all a scare. Glad to see you're still with us. Wagon master took most of the train ahead, but we stuck by you. Your husband wouldn't leave your side."

Lying beside her, asleep, Johnathan didn't stir.

*****

When they arrived at Colorado Springs, Esther was still weak. Her illness was a miscarriage, and with it she'd lost a lot of blood.

"It was never healthy," Johnathan told her. "The babe was outside of your womb, and couldn't survive. The pain was your body flushing it out."

Lying in her sick bed, she reached up and touched his face. "I'm sorry."

"Never apologize for such a thing." He hugged her. "You are alive and well, and that's all that matters." She could tell he wanted to say more, but she closed her eyes and squeezed him back, sighing.

Johnathan took care of her like a baby. The boarding rooms they took were built for the men coming to mine, but as soon as the matron found out about the Reverend's sick wife, she sent quilts and hot compresses to the room, along with teas and broths Johnathan painstakingly spooned into her mouth. Esther enjoyed it for about three days, then grew restless.

"I'm quite well," Esther told him one morning. "I wish to go outside."

"Not yet, my love." Johnathan kissed her. "Another day of rest. Besides, it's been raining these past few days and the streets are filled with mud. You've been unsteady on your feet; I wouldn't want you to turn your heel."

He left that afternoon, and she came out of bed and paced around the room as she did every day to regain her strength.

"This is ridiculous," she finally muttered.

She drew on a dress, noting how thin she'd become. Her husband had not touched her since her illness, and she hoped he might someday find her beautiful again.

Pinching her cheeks to get some color, she descended into the boarding house's main room and stopped. The tables were full of men, all of them staring at her like she was the first woman they'd seen in ten years.

Perhaps she was.

"Good evening," she addressed them. "Does anyone know where I might find a bath house?"

"Try the Bucket." One man pointed a grimy finger out the door. "Across the way."

"Thank you." She nodded as regally as she could, and wove through the room out the door. The streets were muddy, as Johnathan had said, but she found the building easily with a sign announcing hot baths. She hurried to it, and walked straight in, again meeting the shocked glances of a roomful of men.

"Can I help you?" the man behind the counter grunted.

"I am here to see about a bath."

A pause, then half the room burst out laughing.

"Come 'ere, sweetheart." One dirty ruffian leaned towards her, flashing a gold tooth. "I'll bathe you."

"That's quite all right," she said, backing up.

"No, no, I'd like to speak with you," The barkeep said, signaling a beefy man beside the door, who started to come for her. A thick hand reached for her and would've caught her if she hadn't jumped away.

"No thank you, I must be going," she said, just as her back hit a wall. A very solid, but warm wall.

Turning, Esther looked up into the twinkling blue eyes of a tall man blocking her escape. Unlike any of the other men, he was well bathed and shaved, with thick dark hair and the face of an angel. The type of face that would make a woman swoon, even though it heralded trouble.

"What have we here?" He smiled down at her. "A new girl?"

"I'm the Reverend's wife," she blurted, and the man blinked.

Beside him, a shorter man with broad shoulders and reddish brown hair frowned and spoke gruffly. "What's going on?"

"Doyle wants her," the beefy man said.

Immediately the smile fell away from the blue-eyed angel's face, and he looked just as serious as his partner.

"Doyle, let her go," the tall, blue eyed man said.

"I only wanted to speak to her. Little minx came in looking for a bath." The barkeep glared.

For a moment a war went on between the blue-eyed man, and the villain behind the bar. Finally, the saloon owner waved a hand. "Get her out of here."

The tall man took her arm and moved her down the porch, followed by his companion. "Sorry about that. Doyle thinks any woman he sees is his property."

Esther took a deep breath, trying to stop her body from shaking. "Thank you. I'm grateful for the rescue."

At the end of the porch, the blue-eyed man turned to her and swept off his hat, introducing himself with a bow. "Lyle Wilder, at your service. My friend here is Miles Donovan." Lyle nodded to the broad shouldered man. "Can we escort you somewhere?"

"My husband and I have rooms across the way."

Lyle offered his arm with a flourish, and they crossed the street in style, with Donovan silently bringing up the rear.

Back at the inn, Esther was met by the inn matron who had a shotgun pointed at Wilder and Donovan. "You let the lady be."

"They're with me," Esther said.

The gun swung down, but the matron still glared, and Mr. Wilder kept his hands up. "We have no quarrel with you. Just helping the lady cross the street, that's all."

"Esther." Her husband stood at the bottom of the stairs, taking in her mud-spattered dress and pale cheeks.

"Husband," she said, with a little tremor in her voice. Johnathan crossed quickly to put his arm around her and she leaned on him.

"Gentlemen, I must thank you for helping my wife. We're both new to the area."

"No trouble at all." Lyle reached out to shake Johnathan's hand. "Are you the Reverend?"

"I am."

He and his friend exchanged glances, ending with Donovan shaking his head and turning away. Lyle smiled, flashing white teeth. "Do you do weddings?"

*****

A few hours later, Lyle and his friend stood in the Shepherd's room, wearing their finest suits along with differing expressions—Lyle's a broad grin, Miles' a sober look bordering on a frown. A knock on the door, and Esther opened the door to reveal the bride, a petite redhead with creamy skin and an ethereal smile. With the innkeeper's help, Esther had found some white flowers, and gathered them into a sweet bouquet.

When the bride and groom stood beside each other, Johnathan took his place facing them, opening his bible to start the ceremony. The vows were interrupted with a few coughs, and the groom helped his bride with a handkerchief. Esther and her husband shared a worried glance, but the wedding still ended with a joyous proclamation.

After a short supper, the newlyweds left for their own room. Their friend Donovan still lingered.

"Mr. Donovan, do you know the bride well?" Esther asked politely.

"Not so much as Wilder, and he knows her very little."

"How long has she had that cough?" Johnathan asked.

Donovan's hand rubbed the back of his neck. "As long as I can remember."

"I would like to examine her," Johnathan said. "I don't believe she is well."

"Well, I wish you the best in talking them into something so sensible." Donovan shook his head.

"What do you mean?" Esther came to her husband's side and took his hand, facing Mr. Donovan.

"I fear my friend has stars in his eyes. His Mary was one of Doyle's girls," Mr. Donovan said, his hand still worrying the back of his neck. "He thinks he can rescue her. I don't believe it will end well."

Again the Shepherd's shared a look.

Then Esther stepped forward. "Does he love her?"

Miles shrugged. "I suppose."

"Mr. Donovan." She laid her hand on his arm. "Be happy for your friend. Where there is love, there is hope."

*****

When Mr. Donovan left, Esther started for the chaise, only to have her husband catch her hand and turn her to face him. His hands cupped her face and he kissed her, then gave her a look of such supreme tenderness she felt her whole body go weak.

"My dear, you must never say your mission is less than mine. You shine with such a light, and share so liberally with others...your mission is equal, if not greater to mine."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Johnathan."

"Hush." He touched his lips to hers again. "I will not hear you abuse yourself again. Or else a spanking," he mock threatened, until she smiled with watery eyes.

They spent the evening side by side, talking and reading until Esther felt stirred to pace. Finally, she came to stand by her husband, waiting until he looked up.

"What is it, my dear?"

"Aren't you forgetting something, husband? I disobeyed you today and wandered about."

"Yes." He set his book aside and drew her into his lap.

"Why did you go out? You caused me quite a scare."

"I'm sorry. I only wanted a bath. It was to be a surprise."

He shook his head, lips suppressing a smile. "Promise me you'll never do it again."

"I promise." She wriggled in his lap. "Don't I deserve a spanking?"

He sighed. "You've been ill, my dear."

"I feel perfectly well," she pouted.

Lifting her up, he set her on her feet, and rose to his own towering height. "We must go down to dinner," he said, tapping her nose. "I trust you'll be good here on out. Otherwise, next time, you won't sit for a week."

Disappointed, she followed him downstairs, but her night wasn't over yet.

When they returned to the room, a large basin, half filled with water, sat in the middle of the room.

"What's this?" Esther peered at the oversized bucket.

Her husband grinned at her. "Bath time."

She held her hand over the water, watching the steam rise.

"Johnathan..." she said, feeling overwhelmed with his care.

"What are you waiting for? Get undressed and climb in."

She did so, shyly, standing in the shallow bath with her arms crossed over her body.

A knock at the door sent her shrinking back into the shadows, but Johnathan answered it, accepting the newest pot of hot water.

"Come now," he said, stripping down to his drawers. "Time to get you clean. Doctor's orders."

Crouching in the tub, she let him pour warm water over her, murmuring happily as he scrubbed her with a rag. When he came around to her front and started to pry her arms away from her body, she pressed her hands to her chest.

"I don't want you to see me," she said. "I'm too thin. I don't want you to think me ugly."

"You can never be ugly to me." He kissed her, and she let him run the rag over her front, ending between her legs.

As he rubbed her gently, she stared into his brown eyes. All at once pleasure took her, she stiffened and gasped his name.

He dried her carefully and wrapped her in a blanket.

"Now it's your turn to fulfill your duty," he said with a grin, stripping out of his drawers and taking her place. "Bathe me, wife."

Smiling, she used her hands to wash him, then her mouth to return the favor.

*****

When they met the Wilder's for breakfast the next morning, the newlyweds weren't the only two with a happy glow.

"So where do you go from here?" Johnathan asked the new couple.

"Our claim is near Royal Gorge. Folks in those parts need a doctor, and even a minister," Lyle hinted.

"We'll wait until my wife is well enough to travel, but then, yes, we will join you."

"I'm well enough," Esther piped up, but her husband only squeezed her knee.

Biting her lip, Esther looked out the window, where tree branches scraped against the windows, and had an idea.

*****

The next morning Johnathan woke to an empty bed, and a draft coming in from the uncovered window. Going to close the shutters, he nearly fell over when he saw his wife sitting in the branch outside the window, her blonde head winking at him between the reddening leaves.

"Esther, what are you doing?"

"Proving that I am better."

"Come back before your fall to your death," he thundered, leaning out to reach for her. Esther scooted closer to get back to the windowsill, but lost her balance, and would've fallen if her husband's long arms hadn't grabbed her. For a moment they struggled together against gravity, then Johnathan lifted her with a heave and pulled her through the window. Esther landed on top of him, and they lay on the floor, panting to catch their breath.

"That was—" she began, then found herself on her belly over his knees with her skirts pushed up around her head.

"You will never," Johnathan's hand crashed down, punctuating his words, "ever, ever put your life in danger so again."

"Yes, sir," she whimpered, squirming. She'd worn her silky drawers this morning, in hopes to stir his blood.

Now, feeling his anger through his punishing hand, she wondered if she'd pushed him too far.

A minute passed and his hand didn't let up. Bottom aching, she felt a growing pressure inside her, something she'd kept bottled up far too long. She shifted forward, spreading her legs, and her drawers fell open. He smacked between her legs and she cried out widening her knees.

Above her, Johnathan drew in a harsh breath and stopped the spanking. His hand rested on her backside and squeezed. She moaned, but the sound heralded more pleasure than pain. Then Johnathan shifted and she came to her knees, staring up at him with a dazed expression.