Under normal circumstances, such a remark would have made Josh grin, but the circumstances were far from normal. Felicity was back, and just seeing her and holding her for a moment had stirred all his desire for her to life again. But her return had changed nothing as far as their physical relationship was concerned. He still could not make love to her.
"Let's go inside," he said when Blanche's wagon had left the yard and the others had begun to drift away so that Josh and Felicity could be alone. "Are you hungry?"
Felicity shook her head. "No, I'm too excited to eat," she told him with a smile as he conducted her into the house. She paused a moment, drinking in the sight of this room that held so many memories for her. The rocking chair Joshua had bought her still sat beside the hearth, the chair where she was to have rocked their child. She shivered slightly at this painful thought.
"Are you cold? I can make a fire," he offered, hearing the odd formality of his own voice but unable to shake off the feeling of awkwardness that caused it. He wanted to take her in his arms again, to taste her and feel her and kiss her, to assure himself that she was really here, but he knew such an action would be foolish and dangerous in the extreme. To hold her was bound to lead to other things, and he knew his control was tenuous at best.
"No, I'm not cold," she said, turning to face him. She, too, heard the formality in his tone, and when she studied his expression, she could plainly see that something was very wrong. "Aren't you happy to see me?" she asked, her old apprehensions returning in a rush. Perhaps her suspicions had been correct. Perhaps he really did not want her back. "Didn't you want me to come home?"
"Of course I wanted you to come home," he assured her quickly, seeing the hurt in her eyes. "And yes, I am happy to see you." He longed to go to her, to soothe away that hurt, but he did not dare, not yet. Perhaps in a moment, when he had better control.
For a second she automatically suppressed her response, instinctively seeking to hide her concerns from him, but she almost instantly recognized the folly of such an action. She had hidden her concerns for too long. Now was the time for honesty. "You don't look very happy," she accused. "You look like you wish I hadn't come at all. How long were you going to wait before you sent for me?"
Once again her words startled him. She had certainly turned into a spitfire since the last time he had seen her. Or maybe she was a lot angrier than she appeared to be. She had every reason for such an anger, he had to admit. At least he had the means to pacify her. He gave her an apologetic smile. "I wasn't going to send for you," he said, instantly regretting his teasing remark when he saw the pain of rejection flicker across her lovely face. "I was going to come for you," he quickly amended. "Here, look," he added, motioning her over to his bedroom door.
When she was close, he gestured toward the bed, where his half-packed bag sat. "I was getting ready to start for San Antone when I heard Blanche yelling outside."
Felicity lifted her face to his. "You were coming to get me?" she asked, hardly daring to believe the truth of that statement lest her hopes be dashed yet again.
He nodded. "I figured after I didn't write to you all that time, it might take more than just a letter to get you back."
"Oh, Joshua!" she cried, flinging her arms around him. "All you had to do was write, just one letter, and I would have walked all the way here!" For one glorious moment she held him, inhaling his clean, masculine scent and reveling in his strength.
Josh returned her embrace for blissful seconds, savoring the sweet softness of her. He heard her voice as if from far away, and he had to concentrate to understand the words.
"Why didn't you write? I know you didn't want me to know what was going on here, but you could have sent me a love letter…" She felt his body go rigid, and he pulled away from her.
"How did you know what was going on here?" he asked, forcing himself to concentrate on that so he wouldn't think about carrying her off to the big bed he knew awaited them in the next room.
"Blanche wrote and told me everything after the fire…"
"Blanche! That busybody! She had no right to meddle in our affairs," Josh shouted, grasping at the anger that helped cancel out his more dangerous emotions. "And that reminds me, was it her idea for you to come home by yourself?"
"No, that was my idea," Felicity said, a little taken aback by his fury.
"Don't you have a lick of sense? Anything could have happened to you on that trip," he fumed.
"But nothing did," she pointed out, still puzzling over his anger.
"Why didn't you at least let me know you were coming? I could have met your train," he said, running one hand through the silver of his hair.
"Because I wasn't sure you wanted me to come," she said, watching closely for his reaction.
"You weren't sure…? Why not?" His gray eyes reflected his bafflement.
"Because you left me in Philadelphia after telling me we could never live together as man and wife again, and then you didn't write to me, not once in almost two months. What was I supposed to think?"
Once more Josh saw the pain of rejection cloud the blue eyes he loved so much. The elemental urge to ease that pain drew him to her. "Oh, Lissy," he whispered. She was almost in his arms when he caught himself and stopped short, stepping back quickly. "You weren't supposed to think I didn't want you," he said instead, his voice hoarse with the strain of holding himself back.
She stared at him incredulously, trying to make sense of the disparity between his words and his actions. If he did want her, why was he acting as if he couldn't bear to touch her? "Do you still love me, Joshua?"
"Of course I do," he replied instantly.
"Then why don't you kiss me?" she demanded, unconvinced.
Josh closed his eyes; seeking the strength that seemed to have permanently deserted him. "There's nothing I'd like better," he said, steeling himself for the invitation he knew he would see on her face before opening his eyes again. "But I don't think I could stop with just a kiss."
Felicity's eyes widened as comprehension dawned. She smiled a slow, secretive smile. "But, Joshua, you won't have to stop!"
Chapter Fourteen
Felicity snuggled up to Joshua, savoring the feel of his naked body pressed up against the length of hers under the covers of their marriage bed. His arms tightened possessively around her, and he sighed contentedly in the aftermath of their passion. Playfully, she stroked the three-day growth of whiskers that shaded his cheeks.
He smiled lazily. "I told you to let me shave first, but you were in such a hurry," he teased, capturing the tiny fist that thumped him on the shoulder in retaliation and kissing each clenched knuckle.
"It seems to me you were in a little bit of a hurry yourself," Felicity reminded him with mock indignation. She remembered that very well, although she only vaguely recalled him muttering something about needing a shave as he was busy tearing her clothes off.
"Can you blame me?" he asked, nuzzling the sensitive spot just behind her ear.
"No," she whispered. She did not blame him at all for being eager, although at first she had feared a very different outcome for this evening.
Joshua had been furious when she told him she had spoken to another doctor, even after she assured him that Dr. Strong had not examined her. Not that she would have minded, of course. Before going to see the good doctor, she had decided she would submit to anything that might return her marriage to normal.
However, Dr. Strong had listened to her story and then informed her that an examination at this time would probably not accomplish anything.
"You should wait at least a year before even thinking about having another child," he had told her. "If, when your body has had a chance to heal, you decide you want to try again, come back and see me."