Page 22 of Just Imagine

Kit reached Texas the second week of November. It was a long journey, made all the more arduous by the fact that she hadn’t traveled alone.

The uninhabited space of Texas was a surprise to her. It was so different from South Carolina—the flat east Texas prairie and then the rougher country farther inland, where twisting trees grew from jagged rocks and tumbleweed chased across the harsh, hilly terrain. She was told that the canyons flooded when it rained, sometimes washing away entire herds of cattle, and that in the summer, the sun baked the earth until it hardened and cracked. Yet there was something about the land that appealed to her. Perhaps the challenge it posed.

Still, the closer she came to San Carlos, the more uncertain she became about what she’d done. She had precious responsibilities now, yet she’d left the familiar behind to search for a man who’d never said he loved her.

As she climbed the wooden steps that led to the Yellow Rose Gambling Palace, her stomach twisted into tight, painful knots. She’d hardly been able to eat for days, and this morning not even the mouthwatering smells that drifted up from the dining room of the nearby Ranchers Hotel had been able to tempt her. She’d dallied while she dressed, fixing her hair one way and then another, changing outfits several times, and even remembering to check for any unfastened buttons or hooks that might have escaped her notice.

She’d finally decided to wear her dove-gray dress with the soft rose piping. It was the same outfit she’d worn on her return to Risen Glory. She’d even added the matching hat and veiled her face. It comforted her somehow, the illusion that she was starting over again. But the dress fit differently now, clinging tighter to her breasts as a reminder that nothing remained the same.

Her gloved hand trembled slightly as she reached for the swinging door that led into the saloon. For a moment she hesitated, and then she pushed hard against it and stepped inside.

She’d learned that the Yellow Rose was the best and most expensive salon in San Carlos. It had red-and-gold wallpaper and a crystal chandelier. An ornately carved mahogany bar ran the length of the room, and behind it hung a portrait of a reclining nude woman with titian curls and a yellow rose caught between her teeth. She’d been painted against a map of Texas, so that the top of her head rested near Texarkana and her feet curled along the Rio Grande. The portrait gave Kit a renewed kick of courage. The woman reminded her of Veronica.

It wasn’t quite noon, and only a few men sat inside. One by one, they stopped talking and turned to study her. Even though they couldn’t see her features clearly, her dress and her bearing indicated she wasn’t a woman who belonged inside a saloon, even the elegant Yellow Rose.

The bartender cleared his throat nervously.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“I’d like to see Baron Cain.”

He glanced uncertainly toward a flight of curving stairs at the back and then down at the glass he was polishing.

“There’s no one here by that name.”

Kit walked past him and made her way toward the stairs.

The man dashed around the edge of the bar.

“Hey! You can’t go up there!”

“Watch me.”

Kit didn’t slacken her pace.

“And if you don’t want me invading the wrong room, maybe you should tell me exactly where I can find Mr. Cain.”

The bartender was a giant of a man, with a barrel chest and arms like ham hocks. He was accustomed to dealing with drunken cowboys and gunslingers out to make a reputation for themselves, but he was helpless in the face of a woman who was so obviously a lady.

“Last room on the left,”

he mumbled.

“And there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“Thank you.”

Kit climbed the stairs like a queen, shoulders back and head held high. She hoped none of the men watching could guess just how frightened she was.

The woman’s name was Ernestine Agnes Jones, but to the men at the Yellow Rose, she was simply Red River Ruby. Like most people who had come West, Ruby had buried her past along with her name and never once looked back.

Despite powders, creams, and carefully rouged lips, Ruby looked older than her twenty-eight years. She’d lived hard, and it showed. Still, she was an attractive woman with rich chestnut hair and breasts like pillows. Until recently, little had come easy for her, but all that had changed with the convenient death of her last lover. Now she found herself the owner of the Yellow Rose and the most sought-after woman in San Carlos—sought after, that is, by every man except the one she wanted for herself.

She pouted as she looked across the bedroom at him. He was tucking a linen shirt into a pair of black broadcloth trousers that fit him just closely enough to renew her determination.

“But you said you’d take me for a ride in my new buggy. Why not today?”

“I have things to do, Ruby,”

he said curtly.

She leaned slightly forward so that the neck of her red, ruffled dressing gown fell farther open, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Anybody would think you was the boss around here instead of me. What do you have to do that’s so important it can’t wait?”

When he didn’t answer her, she decided not to press him. She’d done that once before, and she wouldn’t make that mistake again. Instead, as she walked around the bed toward him, she wished she could break the unwritten rule of the West and ask about his past.

She suspected there was a price on his head. That would account for the air of danger that was as much a part of him as the set of his jaw. He was as good with his fists as he was with a gun, and the hard, empty look in his eyes gave her a chill just looking at them. However, he could read, and that didn’t fit with being a man on the run.

One thing for sure, he wasn’t a womanizer. He didn’t seem to notice that there wasn’t a woman in San Carlos who wouldn’t lift her petticoats for him if she got the chance. Ruby had been trying to get into his bed ever since she’d hired him to help her run the Yellow Rose. So far, she hadn’t been successful, but he was about the handsomest man she’d ever seen, and she wasn’t going to give up yet.

She stopped in front of him and put one hand over his belt buckle and another against his chest. She ignored the knock at the door to slip her fingers inside his shirt.

“I could be real nice to you if you’d give me the chance.”

She wasn’t aware that the door had opened until he lifted his head and looked past her. Impatiently she turned to see who’d interrupted them.

The pain hit Kit in a wave. She saw the scene before her in separate pieces—a gaudy, red, ruffled dressing gown, large white breasts, a brightly painted mouth open in indignation. And then she saw nothing but her husband.

He looked years older than she remembered. His features were thinner and harder, with deep creases at the corners of his eyes and near his mouth. His hair was longer, hanging well over the back of his collar. He looked like an outlaw. Was this the way he’d been during the war? Watchful and wary, like a piece of wire drawn so taut it was ready to snap?

Something raw contorted his features as he saw her, and then his face closed like a locked door.

The woman rounded on her.

“Who the hell do you think you are, bargin’ in like this? If you come here lookin’ for a job, you can just drag your tail downstairs and wait till I get to you.”

Kit welcomed the anger that rushed through her. She pushed up the veil of her hat with one hand and shoved the door back on its hinges with the other.

“You’re the one who needs to go downstairs. I have private business with Mr. Cain.”

Ruby’s eyelids narrowed.

“I know your type. High-class girl who comes West and thinks the world owes her a livin’. Well, this is my place, and there ain’t no la-de-da lady gonna tell me what to do. You can put on airs back in Virginny or Kentucky or wherever you come from, but not in the Yellow Rose.”

“Get out of here,”

Kit said in a low voice.

Ruby tightened the sash of her dressing gown and moved forward menacingly.

“I’m gonna do you a favor, sister, and teach you right off that things are different here in Texas.”

Cain spoke quietly from across the room.

“My best piece of advice, Ruby—don’t tangle with her.”

Ruby gave a contemptuous snort, took another step forward, and found herself looking down the barrel of a snub-nosed pistol.

“Get out of here,”

Kit said quietly.

“And close the door behind you.”

Ruby gaped at the pistol and then back at Cain.

He shrugged. “Go on.”

With a last assessing glance toward the lady with the pistol, Ruby hurried from the room and slammed the door.

Now that they were finally alone, Kit couldn’t remember a word of the speech she’d rehearsed so carefully. She realized she was still holding the pistol and that it was pointed at Cain. Swiftly she shoved it back into her reticule.

“It wasn’t loaded.”

“Thank God for small favors.”

She’d imagined their reunion a hundred times, but she’d never imagined this cold-eyed stranger fresh from another woman’s arms.

“What are you doing here?”

he finally asked.

“Looking for you.”

“I see. Well, you’ve found me. What do you want?”

If only he’d move, maybe she could find the words she needed to say, but he stood stiffly in place, looking as if her simple presence was inconveniencing him.

Suddenly it was all too much—the grueling journey, the horrible uncertainty, and now this—finding him with another woman. She fumbled inside her reticule and drew out a thick envelope.

“I wanted to bring you this.”

She put it on the table next to the door, then turned and fled.

The hallway seemed to go on forever, and so did the stairs. She tripped halfway down and barely managed to catch herself before she fell. The men at the bar craned their necks to watch her. Ruby stood at the bottom of the stairs, still wearing her red dressing gown. Kit brushed past her and made her way toward the swinging doors of the saloon.

She’d nearly reached them when she heard him behind her. Hands clasped her shoulders and spun her around. Her feet left the ground as Cain swept her up into his arms. Holding her against his chest, he carried her back through the saloon.

He took the stairs two at a time. When he reached his room, he kicked the door open with his foot and then closed it the same way.

At first he didn’t seem to know what to do with her; then he dumped her on the bed. For a moment he stared at her, his expression still inscrutable. Then he crossed the room and picked up the envelope she’d left for him.

She lay quietly as he read it.

He glanced through the pages once, very quickly, and then went back to the beginning and read them through more carefully. Finally he gazed over at her, shaking his head.

“I don’t believe you did this. Why, Kit?”

“I had to.”

He looked at her sharply.

“Were you forced to?”

“Nobody could force me to do that.”

“Then why?”

She sat up on the edge of the bed.

“It was the only way I could think of.”

“What do you mean by that? The only way to do what?”

When she didn’t immediately answer him, he threw down the papers and came toward her.

“Kit! Why did you sell Risen Glory?”

She stared down at her hands, too numb to speak.

He thrust his fingers through his hair, and he seemed to be talking as much to himself as to her.

“I can’t believe you sold that plantation. Risen Glory meant everything to you. And for ten dollars an acre. That’s only a fraction of what it’s worth.”

“I wanted to get rid of it quickly, and I found the right buyer. I had the money deposited in your account in Charleston.”

Cain was stunned.

“My account?”

“It was your plantation. Your money put Risen Glory back on its feet again.”

He said nothing. The silence stretched between them until she thought she would scream if it weren’t filled.

“You’d like the man who bought it,”

she finally said.

“Why, Kit? Tell me why.”

Was she imagining it, or could she detect a slight thawing in his voice? She thought of Ruby pressed up against him. How many other women had there been since he’d left her? So much for all her dreams. She’d look like a fool when she explained it to him, but her pride no longer mattered. There’d be no more lies from her, spoken or unspoken, only the truth.

She lifted her head, fighting the lump forming in her throat. He stood in the shadows of the room. She was glad she didn’t have to see his face while she talked.

“When you left me,”

she said slowly.

“I thought my life was over. I felt so much anger, first at you and then at myself. It wasn’t until you were gone that I realized how much I loved you. I’d loved you for a long time, but I wouldn’t admit it, so I hid it away under other feelings. I wanted to come to you right away, but that wasn’t—it wasn’t practical. Besides, I’ve acted impulsively too often, and I needed to be sure about what I was doing. And I wanted to make certain that when I did find you, when I did tell you I loved you, you’d believe me.”

“So you decided to sell Risen Glory.”

His voice was thick.

Kit’s eyes filled with tears.

“It was going to be the proof of my love. I was going to wave it under your nose like a banner. Look what I did for you! But when I finally sold it, I discovered that Risen Glory was only a piece of land. It wasn’t a man who could hold you and talk to you and make a life with you.”

Her voice broke, and she rose to her feet to try to cover her weakness.

“Then I did something very foolish. When you plan things in your head, they sometimes work out better than they do in real life.”

“What?”

“I gave Sophronia my trust fund.”

There was a soft, startled exclamation from the shadows of the room, but she barely heard it. Her words were coming in short, choppy bursts.

“I wanted to get rid of everything so you’d feel responsible for me. It was an insurance policy in case you told me you didn’t want me. I could look at you and say that whether you wanted me or not, you’d have to take me because I didn’t have anyplace to go. But I’m not that helpless. I’d never stay with you because you felt responsible for me. That would be worse than being apart.”

“And was it so horrible being apart from me?”

She lifted her head at the unmistakable tenderness in his voice.

He stepped out of the shadows, and the years seemed to have fallen away from his face. The gray eyes that she’d always thought cold overflowed with feeling.

“Yes,”

she whispered.

Then he was beside her, catching her up, pulling her to him.

“My sweet, sweet Kit,”

he groaned, burying his face in her hair.

“Dear God, how I’ve missed you. How I’ve wanted you. All I’ve dreamed about since I left was being with you.”

She was in his arms again. She tried to take a deep breath, but it turned into a sob as she drew in his familiar clean scent. Feeling his body against hers after so many months was almost more than she could bear. He was the other part of herself, the part that had been missing for so long. And she was the other part of him.

“I want to kiss you now and make love with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” he said.

“Then why don’t you?”

He gazed down into her upturned face, a sense of wonder in his expression.

“You’d let me make love with you after you just found me with another woman?”

The pain was a sharp, keen stab, but she fought it down.

“I guess I’m partly responsible for that. But it better never happen again.”

“It won’t.”

His smile was soft and tender.

“You love just like you do everything else, don’t you? Without condition. It took you a lot less time than it took me to figure out how to do it right.”

He drew back.

“I’m going to let you go now. It won’t be easy, but there are some things I have to say to you, and I can’t think straight when I’m holding you like this.”

He released her with agonizing slowness and stepped just far enough away so he was no longer touching her.

“I knew long before I left that I loved you, but I wasn’t as smart as you. I tied strings to it and made conditions. I didn’t have the guts to go to you and tell you how I felt, to put everything on the line the way you just did. Instead, I ran. Just like I’ve done all my life when I felt somebody or something getting too close to me. Well, I’m tired of running, Kit. I don’t have any way to prove this to you. I don’t have a banner to wave under your nose. But I love you, and I was coming back to fight for you. I’d already made up my mind. As a matter of fact, I was just getting ready to tell Ruby I was leaving when you barged in that door.”

Despite the unmistakable message of love she was hearing, Kit couldn’t help but wince at the mention of the saloonkeeper’s name.

“Get that fire out of your eyes, Kit. I have to tell you about Ruby.”

But Kit didn’t want to hear. She shook her head and tried to fight the notion that what he’d done while they were apart was a betrayal.

“I want you to listen,”

he insisted.

“No more secrets, even though this part isn’t easy for me.”

He drew a deep breath.

“I—I haven’t been the world’s greatest lover since I left you. I haven’t . . . I haven’t been any kind of lover at all. For a long time I stayed away from women, so I didn’t think much about it. Then I came to work at the Yellow Rose, and Ruby was pretty determined, but what you saw today was all one-sided on her part. I never touched her.”

Kit’s spirits rose.

He shoved a hand in his pocket and turned slightly away from her, some of his former tension coming back.

“I guess to you, Ruby doesn’t look like much, but it’s a little different for a man. It had been a long time for me, and she was making it easy—coming to my room all the time dressed like she was dressed today and letting me know what she wanted. But I didn’t feel anything for her!”

He stopped talking and looked at her as if he expected something. Kit was beginning to grow confused. He sounded more like a man confessing infidelity than one confessing fidelity. Was there more?

Her confusion must have shown, because Cain spoke more sharply.

“Don’t you understand, Kit? She offered herself to me in every way she could, and I didn’t want her!”

This time Kit did understand, and happiness burst inside her like the whole world had been made anew.

“You’re worried about your virility? Oh, my darling!”

With a great whoop of laughter, she threw herself across the room and into his arms. Pulling his head down, she pressed her mouth to his. She talked, laughed, and kissed him all at the same time.

“Oh, my dear, dear darling . . . my great, foolish darling. How I love you!”

There was a hoarse, tight sound deep in his throat, and then he trapped her in his embrace. His mouth came alive with need. Their kiss was deep and sweet, full of love that had finally been spoken, of pain that had finally been shared.

But they’d been apart for too long, and their bodies weren’t content with kisses. Cain, who only moments before had doubted his manliness, now found himself aching with desire. Kit felt it, yearned for it, and, in the last instant before she lost her reason, remembered that she hadn’t told him everything.

With her last ounce of will, she pulled back and gasped out.

“I didn’t come alone.”

His eyes were glazed with passion, and it was a moment before he heard. “No?”

“No. I—I brought Miss Dolly with me.”

“Miss Dolly!”

Cain laughed, a joyous rumble that started in his boots and grew louder as it rose upward.

“You brought Miss Dolly to Texas?”

“I had to. She wouldn’t let me go without her. And you said yourself that we were stuck with her. She’s our family. Besides, I needed her.”

“Oh, you sweet . . . My God, how I love you.”

He reached for her again, but she stepped back quickly.

“I want you to come to the hotel.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I have something to show you.”

“Do I have to see it right away?”

“Oh, yes. Definitely right away.”

Cain pointed out some of the sights of San Carlos as they walked along the uneven wooden sidewalk. He kept his hand tightly clasped over hers where it rested in the crook of his elbow, but her absentminded responses soon made it evident that her thoughts were elsewhere. Content merely to have her beside him, he fell silent.

Miss Dolly was waiting in the room Kit had taken. She giggled like a schoolgirl when Cain picked her up and hugged her. Then, with a quick, worried look at Kit, she left to visit the general store across the street so she could make some purchases for the dear boys in gray.

When the door closed behind her, Kit turned to Cain. She looked pale and nervous.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I have a—a sort of present for you.”

“A present? But I don’t have anything for you.”

“That’s not,”

she said hesitantly.

“exactly true.”

Puzzled, he watched her slip through a second door leading to an adjoining room. When she came back, she held a small white bundle in her arms.

She approached him slowly, her expression so full of entreaty it nearly broke his heart. And then the bundle moved.

“You have a daughter,”

she said softly.

“Her name is Elizabeth, but I call her Beth. Beth Cain.”

He looked down into a tiny valentine of a face. Everything about her was delicate and perfectly formed. She had a fluff of light blond hair, dark slivers of eyebrows, and a dab of a nose. He felt a tight prickling inside him. Could he have helped create something this perfect? And then the valentine yawned and fluttered open her pink shell lids, and he lost his heart to a second pair of bright, violet eyes.

Kit saw how it was between them right away and felt that nothing in her life could ever be as sweet as this one moment. She pushed away the blanket so he could see the rest of her. Then she held their child out to him.

Cain gazed at her uncertainly.

“Go on.”

She smiled tenderly.

“Take her.”

He gathered the baby to his chest, his great hands nearly encompassing the small body. Beth wriggled once and then turned her head to look up at the strange new person who was holding her.

“Hello, Valentine,”

he said softly.

Cain and Kit spent the rest of the afternoon playing with their daughter. Kit undressed her so her father could count her fingers and her toes. Beth performed all her tricks like a champion: smiling at the funny noises that were directed toward her, grabbing at the large fingers put within her reach, and making happy baby sounds when her father blew on her tummy.

Miss Dolly looked in on them, and when she saw that all was well, she disappeared into the other room and lay down to take her own nap. Life was peculiar she thought as she drifted toward the edge of sleep, but it was interesting, too. Now she had sweet little Elizabeth to think about. It was certainly a responsibility. After all, she could hardly count on Katharine Louise to make certain the child learned everything she needed to know to be a great lady. So much to do. It made her head spin like a top. It was a tragedy, of course, what was happening at Appomattox Court House, but it was probably all for the best. She would be far too busy now to devote herself to the war effort. . . .

In the other room, Beth finally began to fret. When she puckered her mouth and directed a determined yowl of protest toward her mother, Cain looked alarmed.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s hungry. I forgot to feed her.”

She picked Beth up from the bed, where they’d been playing, and carried her over to a chair near the window. As she sat down, Beth turned her head and began to root at the dove-gray fabric that covered her mother’s breast. When nothing happened right away, she grew more frantic.

Kit gazed down at her, understanding her need, but suddenly feeling shy about performing this most intimate of acts in front of her husband.

Cain lay sprawled across the bed, watching them both. He saw his daughter’s distress and sensed Kit’s shyness. Slowly he rose and walked over to them. He reached down and touched Kit’s cheek. Then he lowered his hand to the cascade of gray lace at her throat. Gently he loosened it with his fingers to expose a row of rose-pearl buttons beneath. He unfastened them and pushed apart the gown.

The blue ribbon on her chemise surrendered with a single tug. He saw the trickles of sentimental tears on Kit’s cheek and leaned down to kiss them away. Then he opened the chemise so his daughter could be nourished.

Beth made a ferocious grab with her tiny mouth. Cain laughed and kissed the chubby folds of her neck. Then he turned his head and touched his lips to the sweet, full breast that fed her. As Kit’s fingers coiled in his hair, he knew he finally had a home and nothing on earth would ever make him give it away.

There were still promises that had to be sealed between them in private. That evening, with Beth safely tucked in bed where Miss Dolly could watch over her, they rode out to a canyon north of town.

As they rode, they talked about the lost months between them, at first only the events, and then their feelings. They spoke quietly, sometimes in half sentences, frequently finishing each other’s thoughts. Cain spoke of his guilt at deserting her, overwhelming now that he knew she’d been pregnant at the time. Kit spoke of the way she’d used Risen Glory as a wedge to drive them apart. Sharing their guilt should have been hard, but it wasn’t. Neither was the forgiveness each of them offered the other.

Tentatively at first, and then with more enthusiasm, Cain told her about a piece of land he’d seen to the east, near Dallas.

“How would you feel about building another cotton mill? Cotton’s going to be a big crop in Texas, bigger than any state in the South. And Dallas seems like a good place to raise a family.”

He gazed over at her.

“Or maybe you want to go back to South Carolina and build another mill there. That’ll be all right with me, too.”

Kit smiled.

“I like Texas. It feels like the right place for us. A new land and a new life.”

For a while they rode in silent contentment. Finally Cain spoke.

“You didn’t tell me about the man who bought Risen Glory. Ten dollars an acre. I still can’t believe you let it go for that.”

“He was a special man.”

She regarded him mischieviously.

“You might remember him. Magnus Owen.”

Cain threw back his head and laughed.

“Magnus owns Risen Glory and Sophronia has your trust fund.”

“It only seemed right.”

“Very right.”

The deep, cool shadows of evening fell over them as they entered the small, deserted canyon. Cain tied their horses to a black willow, drew a bedroll from behind his saddle, and took Kit’s hand. He led her to the edge of a lazy creek that meandered through the floor of the canyon. The moon was already out, a full, shining globe that would soon bathe them in silver light.

He looked down at her. She wore a flat-brimmed hat and one of his flannel shirts over a pair of fawn britches.

“You don’t look much different than you did when I pulled you down off my wall. Except now, nobody could mistake you for a boy.”

His eyes traveled to her breasts, visible even under his oversized shirt, and she delighted him by blushing. He smoothed out the bedroll and took off first her hat, then his own. He tossed them both onto the mossy creek bank.

He touched the small silver studs in her earlobes and then her hair, coiled in a thick knot at the nape of her neck.

“I want to take your hair down.”

Her lips curved in gentle permission.

He took the pins out, one at a time, and set them carefully inside his own hat. When the shining cloud of her hair finally fell free, he caught it in his hands and brought it gently to his lips.

“Dear God, how I’ve missed you.”

She put her arms around him and gazed up.

“It’s not going to be a fairy-tale marriage, is it, my darling?”

He smiled softly.

“I don’t see how. We’re both hot-tempered and stubborn. We’re going to argue.”

“Do you mind very much?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She pressed her cheek to his chest.

“Fairy-tale princes always seemed dull to me.”

“My wild rose of the deep wood. Things between us will never be dull.”

“What did you call me?”

“Nothing.”

He stilled her question with his lips.

“Nothing at all.”

The kiss that began gently grew until it set them both on fire. Cain plowed his fingers through her hair and cupped her head between his hands.

“Undress for me, will you, sweet?”

he groaned softly.

“I’ve dreamed of this for so long.”

She knew at once how she would do it, in the way that would give him the most pleasure. Tossing him a teasing grin, she rid herself of her boots and stockings, then peeled off her britches. He groaned as the long flannel shirttail fell modestly below her hips. She reached beneath it, pulled off her white pantalets, and dropped them next to her.

“I don’t have anything on under this shirt. I seemed to have forgotten my chemise. On purpose.”

He could barely keep himself from leaping up and taking her.

“You’re a wicked woman, Mrs. Cain.”

Her hand traveled to the top button of her shirt.

“You’re about to find out just how wicked I am, Mr. Cain.”

Never had buttons been opened so slowly. It was as if each unfastening could be accomplished with only the most leisurely of movements. Even when the shirt was finally unbuttoned, the heavy material kept it together in the front.

“I’m going to count to ten,”

he said huskily.

“Count all you want, Yankee. It won’t do you a bit of good.”

With a devil’s smile, she peeled away the shirt, slow inch by inch, until she finally stood naked before him.

“I didn’t remember it right,”

he muttered thickly.

“How beautiful you are. Come to me, love.”

She sped across the chilled ground toward him. Only when she reached him did she wonder if she could still please him. What if having a baby had changed her in some way?

He caught her hand and pulled her beside him. Gently he cupped her fuller breasts.

“Your body is different.”

She nodded.

“I’m a little scared.”

“Are you, love?”

He tilted up her chin and grazed her mouth with his own.

“I’d die before I’d hurt you.”

His lips were soft.

“Not that. I’m afraid . . . I won’t please you anymore.”

“Maybe I won’t be able to please you,”

he breathed softly.

“Silly,”

she murmured.

“Silly,”

he whispered back.

They smiled and kissed until the barrier of his clothing became too much for them. They worked at it together so that nothing was left between them, and as their kisses deepened, they fell back onto the bedroll.

A wisp of cloud skidded over the moon, casting moving shadows on the ancient walls of the canyon, but the lovers didn’t notice. Clouds and moons and canyons, a baby with a valentine face, an old lady who smelled of peppermint—all of it ceased to exist. For now, their world was small, made up of only a man and a woman, joined together at last.