"I will," Felicity promised, giving Blanche another hug. Little did Blanche know that lying down was just about the only thing Felicity would be able to manage. Simply standing upright was making her lightheaded.
Once outside, Blanche scanned the ranch yard for Joshua's familiar figure. If she could not get anywhere with Felicity, she would go to the second best source of information. Blanche found him over by the corrals, smoking a cigarette. He didn't seem to be doing anything important, and she wondered briefly if he had purposely left her alone with Felicity.
As she strode over to him, she studied what she had characterized as his "bleak expression." Suddenly she realized that Jeremiah Logan might not be the only reason for his cheerless demeanor. Josh was, after all, the one who had hinted to her about Felicity's suspicious symptoms in the first place. Was he worried about the girl? And why shouldn't he be, she decided as a small smile curved her lips. He'd had more than enough time to fall in love with her.
"Joshua, I want to talk to you a minute," she announced, watching his expression carefully as he turned to face her.
His silver eyes were wary. "About what?" he said, politely tossing down his cigarette and grinding it out with his heel.
"About Felicity," she said when she was close enough to say it softly so no one would overhear. She watched his eyes kindle briefly with an emotion that could only be called fear. Yes, she determined, he was worried about his wife.
"What about her?" he asked, unable to keep the concern from his voice.
"She doesn't look very well, but I can't get a thing out of her about how she feels. She just keeps insisting she's fine. Is that true?"
Josh shook his head. "She's tired all the time. She even sleeps during the day. Maybe that's because she hardly eats, though, or else the way she's up and down all night."
"Does she ever throw up?" Blanche asked.
"No… no, I don't think so," Josh replied, a little taken aback by such a forthright question. Unfortunately, it was only the first in a long line of equally forthright and downright embarrassing inquiries as Blanche questioned him about Felicity's private bodily functions.
By the time she had finally elicited the information that Felicity had not menstruated since their marriage, Josh knew his face was brick-red. But his discomfort quickly changed to alarm when he saw the way Blanche covered her eyes and turned her face away.
Blanche was trying very hard not to laugh. How could a grown man, a man who had lived all his life with cows and horses, not have figured out what was wrong with his own wife? Of course, cows didn't get morning sickness or get sleepy during the day or…
"Is she going to die?" he asked in an oddly flat voice.
"Die!" Blanche echoed in amazement, instantly forgetting her urge to laugh. Then she looked at him, really looked at him. His face was carefully expressionless, but his eyes were clouded with pain. "You really love her, don't you?" she asked softly, glad that her instincts had proven correct.
Josh flinched as if she had slapped him. Love? What did love have to do with anything? "She's my wife," he said dismissively, unwilling to examine his feelings any more closely than that.
Blanche nodded sagely. "Well, I don't think she's going to die. What I do think is that she's going to have a baby."
"A baby?" he said as if he had never heard the word before.
"Yes," Blanche affirmed cheerfully. "That's what happens when two people carry on the way I expect you and Felicity have been carrying on."
But Josh barely heard her barb. "Are you sure?" he demanded.
"Yes, I'm sure," she mocked cheerfully. "She hasn't had her monthly. That's the first sign. When a woman is breeding, she gets awfully tired and needs extra rest. At night, she has to get up to relieve herself a lot. As far as the eating goes, there's even a name for it: morning sickness. Sometimes she might even throw up." Blanche had thrown up quite often, she recalled bleakly. Both times. Josh's voice rescued her from her unpleasant memories.
"A baby. I'll be damned," he muttered.
"Congratulations, Joshua," Blanche said with a grin, extending her hand.
Josh shook it. "Thanks," he responded automatically, but then he thought it over. He owed Blanche more than that. "Thank you, Blanche," he said, smiling back at her.
"My pleasure. I like delivering good news," she replied. Then she noticed his glance straying longingly in the direction of the house. "You leave her alone for a while now," she warned. "I sent her to bed. Let her rest, and when she wakes up, you can tell her. That'll be soon enough. Meantime, you can fetch my buggy for me."
He was a big man. Felicity couldn't see his face, but his clothes were all black. He called her name, "Felicity!" and she ran from him. She ran and ran until she couldn't run anymore. Her legs felt like lead weights, dragging her down and down while he came closer and closer.
"Lissy!" he cried as he reached for her.
"No!" she cried, but she could not escape. His hands clutched at her, grabbing and clinging even though she struggled.
"Ussy! Wake up! It's just a dream!"
Her eyes snapped open. For a moment the face before her looked strange and unfamiliar, but then she recognized him. "Joshua," she breathed, sinking gratefully into the protection of his arms.
Josh held her, rocking her slightly for comfort. How many times had he done this in the long weeks since Jeremiah Logan had escaped? he wondered. He didn't even need to ask what the dream had been about. It was always the same. But he couldn't let her see how concerned he was himself. He would only scare her more. "Serves you right for sleeping in the daytime," he teased in an effort to break the evil spell of the dream.
Felicity blinked, lifting her head from his chest to look around. Sure enough, it was broad daylight. He had caught her sleeping in the daytime again. Too ashamed to meet his gaze, she tried to pull away from him. "I'm sorry. I'll get up right away."
"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, alerted by the stiffness in her tone and in her body. Holding her fast with one hand, he used the other to force her chin up. Had the dream disturbed her more than usual? He searched the clear blue depths of her eyes, but found no fear there, only a strange sadness.
"I'll fix you something to eat," she offered, eager to make up for her lapse. "Is it late? You must be hungry," she added, wondering how she could have slept the afternoon away.
And then he understood that she was embarrassed. He smiled down at her. "No, it's not late and I'm not hungry," he assured her. No wonder she looked so odd. He had made such a fuss about her sleeping during the day, she probably thought he was mad about it. "In fact, I was going to let you sleep longer, but then I heard you…" His voice trailed off as he realized he was reminding her of the nightmare again. He changed the subject to a much more pleasant one. "But now that you're awake, I've got something to tell you."
Felicity watched his smile warily for a moment until her sleep-fogged brain finally accepted the fact that he was not angry. Ever so gently, he pressed her back against the pillows and then leaned over her, bracing his arms on either side of her shoulders.
"There's a very good reason why you've been so sleepy," he said, reaching up to brush a lock of golden hair away from her cheek. She had removed her dress and petticoats for her nap. Clad only in her chemise with her hair coming loose and sleep creases on her cheek, she looked like a little girl. Except for the swell of her breasts.
"There is?" she asked, puzzled by his smug expression.
"Yes, there is," he repeated, using one long finger to trace the rounded neckline of her chemise. When he came to the valley between her small breasts, he paused to stroke it.