Colorado Courtship

Her fingers faltered as she smoothed the fabric of his blue work shirt, and she tugged the collar, straightening it a bit. “You do that so nicely,” he told her. “Reminds me of the way my mother used to handle the washing when I was a boy.” He watched as she tucked the sleeves inside and smoothed the placket down, then lifted the stack of his belongings into his arms, inspecting the top item more closely.

“Thanks for sewing on a new button for me,” he said. His brow lifted and a grin curved his lips. “I’ll be spoiled with you taking such good care of me.”

“It was an odd one I had and it doesn’t really match the others, but it’s better than nothing, I figured. And if that’s all it takes to keep you happy, who am I to complain?” she teased, and then felt her stomach clench as his gaze narrowed on her face. His eyes darkened with a look she recognized as a yearning—a yearning probably for the easing of his masculine need. Just such a look from Lyle had meant harsh hands that groped and demanded her compliance to his wants.

Not so, it seemed, with this man, for his fingers against her shoulders were soothing, and his lips formed words of promise against her skin. “You’ll find me easy to please, Jessica,” he said. “In fact, just being with you makes me happy.” He bent close to claim the softness of her cheek, and his breath was warm against her ear. His mouth formed a caress, his lips pressing against her flesh. And then she felt the dampness of open lips, as his murmur offered assurance. “All you have to do is smile in my direction.”

Such foolishness. She turned her head sharply and looked into eyes that seemed not to consider such flattery as nonsense. “A smile will do it?” she asked.

“Just looking at you gives me pleasure,” he told her, and she laughed, a quick, harsh sound.

“I’d put some stock in that if I didn’t know how I look these days, Finn. Those sweet words would be more credible if you aimed them toward a pretty young girl, or whispered them to a woman who’s been a success at pleasing a husband.” She set her jaw, deliberately acknowledging her own shortcomings.

He laughed at her. The man had the audacity to touch his fingers to her cheek and then bent to kiss the tip of her nose. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jessica,” he said. His blue eyes lowered slowly, touching the bit of skin exposed at her throat, where her collar was undone, and then settled seductively on the fullness of her breasts.

Heat rose to color her cheeks as his gaze measured the rounding curves of her bosom, and her lungs expanded as if they required an inordinate amount of air. His smile was slow, as her breasts lifted with each indrawn breath, and his murmur was low, words she strained to hear. He leaned toward her, brushing their bodies together, and she felt the distinct swelling of his male arousal against her belly.

“Finn?” Her voice was choked, her throat too dry to swallow, and the fire from her rosy cheeks descended to diffuse its heat throughout her body, as if a fever had taken hold and spread languor the length of her limbs. She leaned against him, unable to remain upright without his support.

“I suppose I should apologize Jess,” he told her, his smile a bit crooked, as if he were embarrassed. “I don’t mean to offend you, but I can’t seem to help the way you affect me. Surely you’re not surprised.”

“Well, I can’t imagine that you—”

He laughed, the sound muffling her words as he took her lips with a kiss that left her question answered beyond the shadow of a doubt. Then he was laughing no longer, his mouth taking hers fiercely, his need so powerful, so elemental, she could not fail to understand the message. And then they lurched, almost in unison, as the baby made its presence known to them both, a tiny hand or foot poking indiscriminately in protest.

Finn recovered first, setting her away from him. “Enough of that for tonight, I’d say,” he told her, his chuckle soft against her ear. “I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart.” His smile returned, quirking one corner of his mouth. “And yes, whether you believe it or not, I have a need for you, Jess. I said I’d wait, and I will, but don’t think for one minute that you carrying a baby is enough to turn me away.”

The creek crossing was accomplished early on the next day, and by noontime the train snaked out across the prairie, heading almost due west. The morning breeze carried the perfume of wildflowers directly to the wagon seat where Jessica was perched. One of the men, a miner, walked beside her lead ox this morning, having made the offer, probably at Finn’s instigation she thought. And it was an offer she could not afford to refuse, although she would soon climb down and take her place there, walking the trail for the early hours of the afternoon.

Her lungs filled as she inhaled deeply of the fresh air. Flowers bloomed on all sides, and mixed with their soft scent was the riper, richer aroma of soil, blessed by an overnight rain. It had been a dry spring, McMasters said, but this morning the trail held damp spots.

There’d been no sign of Finn after the crossing. Once the wagons rolled through the shallowest part of the stream, listing first to one side, then the other, men walking beside them, watchful lest one should tilt and threaten to overturn, he’d ridden off. With a jaunty wave in her direction he’d turned his horse to the southwest and had soon been gone from sight.

The crossing left them vulnerable, and though the Indian tribes had been peaceful, Jonas was alert for trouble. Finn, she suspected, had been sent ahead to scout out the trail.

The day passed quickly, Jessica taking over the duty of walking by the team for a couple of hours during the afternoon, and then retiring to rest when Arlois sent her son to relieve her. The feather tick in her wagon served her well, and she spent an hour there, her body weary, her legs aching. She was less than two months from delivery of her child, if she had it figured right, and the hardest part was yet to come. It was no wonder a woman was considered unfit to travel without a man’s company on a wagon train.

By nightfall, her back ached and her feet were swollen. Even with the afternoon nap giving her a burst of energy she was aware that her strength was lessening day by day. Sitting by the fire, she held her journal on her lap, scribbled a recital of the day, and then thumbed through the pages. Notes of the miles traveled, the meals she’d cooked and the sights she’d seen made up the entries of those early days of this trek, and she read them over by the flickering campfire.

There seemed to be a total absence of joy in her early postings and she could not help but compare them to the few lines she’d written of today’s happenings. Names of women and children appeared there, and prominent among them was Finn’s, the lone male she’d mentioned, but for the miner and Arlois’s eldest son, who had given of their time for her comfort.

She closed the book, and leaned back against a keg, allowing the sounds of children and animals to lull her. The sun was below the horizon, and the shrill cry of some wild animal blended in with the protesting howl of an angry child. A chill settled down upon her, and Jessica shivered, wrapping her arms around her middle, viewing the campfire through lowered eyelids.

And then he came to her in the half darkness, his boots silent against the hard ground. Crouching next to her, he spoke her name, and she opened her eyes, welcoming the sight of a smile that warmed her. She motioned to the kettle that still hung over the fire, and he nodded, settling beside her to eat. Dipping into the contents of her stew pot, he savored each bite, then spoke quietly of the trail he’d scouted out.

“I didn’t find anything to worry about,” he said. “Jonas heard some rumors about one of the tribes stealing horses from a train that went through here a couple of weeks ago, but everything looks quiet up ahead to me. The Indians don’t take much stock in oxen anyway. I think we’re pretty safe.”

Jessica nodded, content to watch him and listen to the quiet drone of his words, lulling her in the darkness. Finn poked at the buffalo chips with a stick, his attention never straying from her. It was as if they were already married, she thought, already forming a life together. Except for bedtime, when, as the camp settled down for the night, he stood beside her, offering his help. She rose and made ready to climb into the wagon.

His kiss was not unexpected, the slow, gentle mating of their lips that sent a shiver down the length of her spine. His mouth coaxed hers to open and her lips softened beneath his, allowing the patient exploration of her lips with the edge of his tongue. She’d hated such kisses from Lyle, dreaded the poking and prodding that invaded her privacy. Yet with Finn’s delicate touches, she knew a different sensation, felt the rush of sweet, awakening passion his kisses brought into being.

He left her then, after lifting her with ease over the tailgate, touching her hand in a silent farewell before he lowered himself to crawl into his bedroll beneath the wagon. A sense of rightness, of well-being, surrounded her with the knowledge that he slept so near, and she closed her eyes, weariness creeping over her.

Sunshine greeted them each morning as they made their way toward Council Grove. Water again became scarce and they took a detour, stopping by a stream bank one afternoon, then spent the night there at the women’s request. The animals were allowed to graze overnight and then led to the stream to drink deeply before they set off the next morning. The water wagon carried barrels for filling and Jessica was relieved to have hers delivered back to her wagon, the lid firmly in place, the contents making it heavy and cumbersome.

Finn was at hand, watching over her, appearing every morning to ready her oxen for the day’s travel, ever present at her fire each night. She accepted him as a friend, welcomed the warm touches of his lips against her mouth and forehead, leaned into his muscular form as his arms enclosed her in the darkness each evening—growing accustomed to his presence in her life.

They spoke little of the decision she must make before reaching Council Grove, only of the trail ahead, of the lives they’d left behind. And if Finn seemed reticent at times, skimming the surface of his early years, she simply put it down to the usual inclination of men not to discuss themselves.

And then, just two days out of Council Grove, he made the offer she’d been expecting, issuing a formal declaration of his intent. They had finished supper, and Jessica was putting away her bowls and spoons into the keg where she stored them. Beside her, Finn lifted it into the wagon bed, and then turned to face her, both of them hidden in the shadows between two wagons, where their last moments together each day were spent, speaking quietly before separating to sleep apart.

“I thought I’d better remind you that I’m planning to marry you once we reach Council Grove,” he said, smiling as he reached for her hand. He held it against his chest and felt the trembling of her fingers against his palm. The inclination to touch his lips to her cool flesh was almost automatic, so slowly and easily had their relationship developed, and he lifted her hand, then bent to press a kiss against her knuckles.

“I wondered if you’d changed your mind,” she said, looking up at him quizzically. “You haven’t mentioned it again, only that once. I hadn’t planned to hold you to it, Finn.”

“I don’t change my mind once it’s made up to something, Jess. I figured you knew that.”

“You know Gage Morgan asked me to consider his suit,” she told him quietly. “I suspect he’ll ask again before we get to Council Grove.”

“And what will you tell him?” He heard the harsh tones he uttered that spoke of his anger, and saw her brows raise as he clasped her hand more tightly.

“What do you think?” she asked. “You’ve been looking after me, Finn. I’ve fed you supper every night, and you’ve slept beneath my wagon. I told you before that it seemed to me you were staking a claim. The rest of the men stayed clear of me. All but Morgan.”

“Did he come around when I was riding out ahead?” Finn asked.

She nodded. “He was pleasant, but I don’t feel comfortable around him.”

“After we leave Council Grove, he’ll leave you alone,” Finn promised. “Once you’re wearing my ring, you won’t be fair game for any other man.”

“I’ll let you know right now, I’m not about to settle for a secondhand ring, Finn Carson. I’d rather do without.” Her chin lifted as she followed her assertion with an explanation that surprised him. “Morgan offered to buy one from one of the other women for me if I’d marry him.”

Finn shook his head in disbelief. The thought of Jessica’s hand being graced by some other female’s bit of gold was beyond consideration. “You’ll be wearing a brand new ring when we leave Council Grove,” he told her. “I understand there’s a jeweler there, and we’ll see what he has to offer.”

“Really? You mean that?” she asked. “I’ve never had a wedding ring.”

“Did you think I’d do any less for you, Jess?” He lifted her hand again, and this time his mouth lingered there. He looked up into her eyes and whispered words he’d considered long and hard. “I won’t demand anything of you. You’ll let me know when I can sleep inside the wagon with you. All right?” And within him blossomed the hope that his careful wooing, his small seductions each night might bear fruit.

Jessica was silent for a long moment, and he thought she held her breath. And then she nodded. “All right. That sounds agreeable to me.”

“I spoke to the preacher and he agreed to marry us in Council Grove. And if there’s a church we can use, I thought you might like to be wed in front of an altar.”

He watched as her eyes glistened, and two tears fell to roll down her cheeks. “Thank you, Finn. I didn’t expect you to think of that, but it would please me no end.”

“I’ve asked Dave Bates to be witness for me, and I thought maybe you’d ask Arlois to stand beside you.” He’d been jumping the gun a little when he presented his plan to Dave, but the other man didn’t have any qualms about agreeing to the notion, only teased him about planning his wedding night.

“I’ll ask her tomorrow,” Jessica said. And then she stood on tiptoe and leaned forward a bit, capturing their clasped hands between his chest and hers. Her face tilted upward and she smiled. “If I say yes nicely to your proposal, will you kiss me?”

“I’ve kissed you most every night, Jess,” he said quietly. “And I’ve waited two long weeks to do it properly,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to push you, sweetheart.”