Elizabeth Lowell - Only Mine

Now another man was doing all those things.

The cup hit the sink with a metallic cry that was lost in the music of Caleb’s harmonica. A few silent strides brought Wolfe to the kitchen door. He stood in the shadows there, leaning against the door frame, watching Jessica with a hunger he could no longer hide. Her raspberry silk dress made her skin glow like fragile porcelain lit from within. The simple chignon Willow had taught Jessica to create emphasized the delicate lines of her face. Tendrils of hair escaped to lie in soft curves at her temples, nape, and ears.

Even as Wolfe felt anger snaking through his body at the sight of his wife burning like a candle flame in another man’s arms, Wolfe reminded himself there was nothing improper about the waltz. Though Reno’s unusual size made an intense contrast to Jessica’s fragile femininity, Reno was holding her properly, neither too close to his body nor too familiar in the placement of his hands. Nor was Jessica clinging too much. They were simply dipping and turning and skimming gracefully around the living room to the haunting melody played by Caleb.

Then the darkly handsome Reno smiled down at Jessica and began singing in his fine voice about «One morning, one morning, one morning in May…» when a soldier spied a Scots lass dreaming by a clear meadow stream. The soldier’s manly charms quickly seduced the pretty girl, who pleaded for his arms and his name in marriage. The arms she received, and more besides, but not his name. He was already twice married — once to the army, once to a woman. Though he was a stout man, he declared he wasn’t up to the demands of yet another wife.

Reno’s light green eyes shimmered with suppressed humor as he watched Jessica react to the wry lyrics. Her silver laughter bubbled up contagiously, drawing smiles and more laughter from everyone in the room.

Except Wolfe. He was too angry to smile. Seeing the change wrought by Reno on Jessica’s wan appearance made Wolfe feel murderous. The only thing that prevented him from going back into the other room and wrenching his wife from Reno’s arms was the fact thatRafe was already there, cutting in neatly.

«My turn, little brother.»

«I’m as big as you are,» Reno pointed out.

«You’re eleven months younger.»

With an amused smile, Reno bowed to Jessica and released her toRafe’s arms.

«I’m a little rusty,» Rafe admitted. «Australians ran more to fighting and drinking than fancy footwork. I haven’t danced with a lady in a long, long time.»

«I’m certain you’ll do fine. Anyone who walks, rides, and wields a bullwhip as well as you do has a lot of natural coordination.»

«Thanks, but maybe you better stand on my big feet just the same. Wildflowers aren’t safe when an elephant dances.»

Jessica ducked her head and tried not to giggle. It was impossible.Rafe towered over her, his gray eyes vivid with teasing laughter. Despite his warning, he danced well, whirling her easily around the room until she was breathless with laughter.

Unnoticed, Wolfe leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, watching with an impassive face and eyes that promised Hell.

Reno helped Willow to her feet and danced her carefully around the room, moving with half the speed ofRafe and Jessica. Caleb looked over his harmonica at his wife, winked, and slowed the music even more. She smiled back at him, but still couldn’t last more than twice around the room. When Reno waltzed her past Caleb’s position on the couch, she let go of her brother and settled next to her husband. He pulled her closely against his body without breaking the rhythm of the dance.

Reno headed forRafe and Jessica. Brother tapped brother firmly on the shoulder.Rafe winked at Jessica and spun her quickly, lifting her beyond Reno’s reach. A moment later, Reno was back again.

«Wait,» Jessica said, smiling equally at both brothers. «There’s a way we can all dance at the same time.»

With a few words and gentle pushes, she arranged a brother on each side of her and held out her hands expectantly. On either side, a strong, big hand closed over hers. She looked from side to side, struck by the similarity in the shape of each brother’s hand. Though their hair and eye color were quite different, their blood relationship was clear in their strength and in the flat nails of their hands.

«Now, like this,» Jessica said. «Step right, cross over behind, dip, straighten, step right…»

Both men caught on quickly. Soon they were moving as one on either side of Jessica.

Wolfe stood in the doorway, staring at the woman who looked stunningly feminine caught between the two Moran brothers. Barely five feet two inches tall, she was thirteen inches shorter than either man, yet there was nothing childlike in the proportions of her body. The curves of breast and hip, waist and ankle, showed clearly against the soft folds of her dress as the cloth swirled fluidly with her movements.

Finally the waltz wound to a slow finish.Rafe and Reno smiled over Jessica’s auburn head. Both men lifted one of Jessica’s hands to their lips and kissed it. She curtsied deeply, graceful as flame. Though neither man spoke the thought aloud, it was clear from their expressions that they were thoroughly enchanted by their dance partner.

«Again, Caleb,» Willow murmured. «That tune is one of my favorites.»

The strains of the waltz flowed through the room once more. A silent signal passed between the brothers. Smiling, Rafe released Jessica’s hand and sat down.

Soon Reno and Jessica were swirling around the room again. Reno held his partner lightly, looking down at her with approving green eyes, singing in his fine voice. No one could hear Reno’s words but Jessica, who flushed and then laughed with transparent pleasure. Reno spun quickly, taking Jessica with him, making her skirt billow like wind-blown flame. He stopped and dipped deeply, forcing her to depend upon his strength for her balance. When she accepted his lead without protest, his smile flashed, transforming his face, making him handsome enough to stop a woman’s breath.

An icy rage gripped Wolfe.

When I touch her, she berates me as the viscount’s savage, yet when Reno holds her, she looks at him as though he had just come to earth on a bolt of lightning.

I don’t know who is the greater fool — me for caring, or Reno for being taken in by the conniving little aristocrat.

Wolfe crossed the living room with a predatory grace that warnedRafe and Caleb of what was coming. Reno didn’t notice Wolfe’s approach, for his attention was completely on Jessica’s laughter, the unusual color of her eyes, and the firelight caught in her hair. The hard masculine tap on his shoulder came as a surprise.

«Patience, big brother,» Reno said. «You’ll get your turn.»

«I will get all of the turns.»

The cold anger in Wolfe’s voice made Reno’s head snap around. He took one look at Wolfe and released Jessica without a word. She started to smile at Wolfe, but when she saw his eyes her smile vanished. She stumbled as he spun her away from Reno.

«Sorry,» she said, catching her balance by holding on to Wolfe. «You startled me.»

Wolfe didn’t bother to politely pretend that it had been his error in rhythm rather than Jessica’s that had caused her to stumble.

«I will do more than startle you if you insist on seducing every man within reach.»

Wolfe’s tone was as hard as his eyes. Though his voice was too low to carry beyond Jessica, each word was distinct, making her flinch as though at a blow.

«I wasn’t seducing —»

«The hell you weren’t, your ladyship,» Wolfe said icily, cutting across her words. «Now listen to me and listen well. You forced this marriage. Until you agree to end it, you will act in public as a married woman. This isn’t Great Britain, nor are the Moran brothers members of British aristocracy. In this time and place, married women have no other man but their husband, and married men have no other woman but their wife. Do you understand me? There will be no lovers for you or for me while this farce of a marriage lasts.»

Before Jessica could answer or protest, Wolfe released her and walked toward the Moran brothers. The music stopped as though cut off by a knife.

«Gentlemen,» Wolfe said with deadly softness, «don’t be fooled by appearances. Lady Jessica forced our marriage by claiming that I had seduced her. I did not. She is as virginal tonight as she was on the instant of herbirth.Yetwe are married. The little nun prefers it that way, for she knows I won’t force her. She believes she can remain forever a spoiled child, playing at marriage, playing at keeping house, playing at being a woman.»

The silence that followed Wolfe’s words was so absolute that the wail of the wind outside was almost shocking in its volume. Wolfe looked fromRafe to Reno and resumed speaking in the same soft, savagely controlled voice.

«Enjoy Jessica’s smile, enjoy her laughter, enjoy her lively conversation, but don’t get your guts in a knot over a spoiled little tease who whimpers during storms and can’t even build a fire — in or out of bed. Wait for the right woman, one like Willow, a woman, not a girl, a woman strong enough to fight by your side if she must, passionate enough to set fire to your soul as well as your body, and generous enough to give you children despite the risk to her own life. Jessica is not that woman.»

Wolfe turned on his heel and stalked to the front door. The cry of the wind increased as the door opened. Without a word or a look at his wife, Tree That Stands Alone vanished into the windy night.

Jessica slept more badly than usual that night, for Wolfe’s icy summation of her failures as a Western woman kept echoing in her mind, sliding past all inner barriers, cutting her in ways she couldn’t name. All she could do was endure as she had endured in the past, putting pain and memories behind her, forcing them into parts of her mind she visited her, forcing them into parts of her mind she visited only in nightmares.

But tonight Jessica couldn’t fight as she had fought in the past. Tonight she felt her carefully constructed defenses crumbling like a sand castle beneath a rising tide.

When Wolfe came into the room, undressed silently, and slid beneath the blankets, Jessica was more awake than asleep. The scent of him settled over her, evergreens and fresh snow. His hair radiated the cold wind that writhed over the land.

Lying absolutely still, certain that he sensed her wakefulness, Jessica waited for Wolfe to speak to her. When he simply rolled onto his side with his back to her, she closed her eyes and told herself she was grateful not to hear any more cutting words from Tree That Stands Alone.

But she wasn’t grateful. She would rather have been berated than continue to lie in bed half-dazed with regret and loneliness, listening to the wind’s victorious wail. Shivering with a cold that not even the fur blanket could warm, she waited for sleep to release her. In time, something close to sleep came, but there was no release in it, simply greater vulnerability.

Outside the room, a northern storm descended, fulfilling the harsh promises of the wind. A vast, ice-toothed scythe of sleet sliced horizontally across the land. Pellets of ice hammered over the roof and clawed down windowpanes while the wind screamed in a woman’s voice, describing eternal damnation.

Her mother’s voice.

Terror that was colder than the storm froze Jessica. Neither asleep nor yet awake, she clenched her teeth against the cries locked within her throat. She would not let Wolfe hear her.

…a spoiled little tease who whimpers during storms.

With a soundless cry of despair, Jessica turned her face into the pillow, fighting memories, fighting nightmares, fighting herself. Sensing weakness, the wind howled around her. Its icy fingers pried beneath her control, screaming to her in her mother’s voice.

But it was Wolfe’s words Jessica heard, Wolfe’s words that stripped her to her naked soul.

Wait for the right woman, one like Willow, a woman not a girl…a woman passionate enough to set your soul on fire…generous enough to give you children despite the risk to her own life.

Jessica is not that woman.

The wind screamed triumphantly as memory, nightmare, and storm combined, telling Jessica that she was alone and the wind was everywhere.

The sounds she refused to make shuddered through her tense body. Though she managed to stem her own cries, she could not stem the black tide of memories drowning her, a childhood recalled by her mother’s voice screaming with the wind, incidents she had spent a lifetime hiding from except in nightmares, and those she refused to remember upon awakening.