"A year!" she had protested, and with much embarrassment, had managed to convey her husband's fears of impregnating her if they made love in the meantime.
That was when Dr. Strong had embarrassed her even more by explaining how she and Joshua could make love without fear of pregnancy. All the way home on the train she had agonized over exactly how she would explain the process to Joshua without actually swooning with humiliation, but she had found the task surprisingly easy. As soon as Joshua calmed down about the doctor visit and she showed him the things Dr. Strong had given her, he had quickly comprehended the procedure.
Felicity had anxiously watched the expressions flitting over his handsome face as he gradually realized what this would mean to their marriage. His final expression had been pure, wholesome lust.
"Are you going to show me how to use these things?" he asked provocatively, sending a wave of heat to her cheeks and various other parts of her.
"I'll try," she had replied with feigned primness, "but I'm new at it, too. I may need a lot of practice at first…"
She hadn't even had a chance to finish her teasing. The next thing she knew, they were in the bedroom and clothes were flying everywhere.
Now, with that first burst of passion slaked, Felicity stroked his prickly cheek. Only one worry marred the bliss of the moment. "Was it… was it as good for you as before?"
Dr. Strong had warned that her husband might complain about a certain dulling of sensation.
"It was perfect," he lied. He had noticed a difference, a lessening of pleasure, but what did that matter when weighed against the choice of never having her again? "Couldn't you tell how pleased I was?" he asked with a grin.
Yes, she had been able to tell that. "You weren't half as pleased as I was," she taunted playfully.
Josh pretended to consider that remark. "I suppose that means you must have missed me," he concluded, only half teasing.
"Terribly," she said, no longer teasing at all. "And… did you miss me?"
"Oh, a little," he allowed, but then he saw how her expression had changed, how her blue eyes were clouded with doubt. "I only missed you as much as I would miss my heart if somebody cut it out and carried it off to Philadelphia," he told her raggedly.
"Oh, Joshua, I love you so much," she said, pulling him close and closer still until only the ultimate union could bring the oneness she desired.
"I love you, Lissy," he whispered, his voice urgent with need. "Don't ever leave me again."
Felicity wanted to remind him that she had not been the one to leave, but his mouth was on hers, effectively blocking any argument. After a while, making the point no longer seemed important.
Joshua's hands were gentle but relentless, leaving no part of her body unexplored. Places she had never dreamed could be sensitive sprang to life under his loving touch. Perhaps her reaction was so intense because her body was starved for him, but she did not care to analyze her response at that particular moment. She just wanted to experience it.
And experience it she did, with every sense, every nerve, every fiber of her being, until she heard her own voice, hoarse and breathless, begging for release.
"Help me, Lissy," he commanded, gasping when she swiftly obeyed with fingers made clumsy by all-consuming desire. Then she guided him to her with a boldness she had never shown-and never known-before.
He took her slowly, tormenting them both by prolonging the agony and the exquisite pleasure of delay.
"Don't… ever… leave… me," he chanted against her mouth as his body drove her to unknown heights where the air was thin and she gasped for every breath. She was so high she might have touched the stars, but when she tried, they exploded around her in a brilliant burst of flame.
Jeremiah chewed the last bit of meat off the tiny rabbit bone and tossed it aside. He was still hungry, but that was to be expected when one small rabbit had to feed four grown men. He glanced at the motley group clustered around the campfire and shook his head in disgust. Only four of them remained out of the dozen who had invaded Logan's ranch, and one of the four was so badly wounded, Jeremiah doubted he would live until morning.
"We've got to get out of here before we starve to death," Jeremiah said to the wizened man squatting to his right.
Ortega turned his beady black eyes toward Jeremiah, eyes filled with hate and suspicion. "I will not leave until I have killed Logan," he said with the air of one repeating a catechism.
"You won't be able to kill Logan if you're dead yourself," Jeremiah pointed out with what he hoped sounded like perfect logic. "We're out of food and it's too dangerous to hunt this close to Logan's ranch. They're bound to hear the shots. We can't live on rabbit forever." Jeremiah made a disdainful gesture toward the remains of the animal he had been lucky enough to snare that morning.
"We could leave now if you had killed Logan when you had the chance," Ortega snarled, his thick lips curling in contempt.
Jeremiah fought down the swift wave of anger that threatened to cloud his judgment. Too much defensiveness would only convince Ortega that he was right. "I told you," he said calmly. "The old woman tricked me. She called out a warning and Logan got the drop on me. If Jose hadn't come in when he did and distracted him, I'd be dead now, too."
Ortega studied him with those hate-filled eyes, and Jeremiah forced himself to meet that gaze unflinchingly. Fearing that Ortega would challenge his story again, Jeremiah went on the offensive. "And what makes you think you can get to Logan with this crew?" he asked, making another disdainful gesture at the men gathered around the fire. One of them murmured incoherently in feverish delirium. Another favored a badly sprained leg. Even Ortega sported a bloody bandage on his forearm. Only Jeremiah had emerged from the attack unscathed, and that had won him Ortega's well-earned suspicions.
Ortega considered Jeremiah's question thoughtfully as he, too, studied what was left of his gang. "You're right," he said at last. "I have to go back to Mexico."
Jeremiah experienced a sense of profound relief. The only reason he had sought out this hidden camp after the fire- the camp he himself had located for Ortega's gang as their base of operations while they conducted their raids on the Rocking L Ranch-was because he wanted to be sure Ortega had given up his plans for revenge against Josh Logan. But Jeremiah's relief was short-lived.
"I will need more men to do what I have planned. Not many, just a few good men that I can trust," Ortega murmured thoughtfully. "Men who know how to treat a woman."
"A woman?" Jeremiah echoed in sudden alarm. "What woman? What exactly do you have planned?"
Ortega smiled, showing blackened teeth. "I cannot beat Logan in an open fight. I cannot even take enough of his cattle to hurt him. But I can take something more precious to him than any of his other possessions. I will take his wife."
"But she isn't here," Jeremiah protested, feeling a growing apprehension as he realized Ortega was deadly serious about this plan.
"She will return, sooner or later. I am a patient man. I can wait. When she comes, when I have found the right men, I will come back." His grin grew sly as he considered Jeremiah's reaction to his words. "Or maybe I do not need any other men. As I remember, you are a man who knows how to handle white women. Maybe I will just turn her over to you."
Felicity shivered slightly as she looked at the new barn in the golden glow of morning and tried to imagine the horror of that night when the old one had burned. Josh came up behind her on the porch and placed his hands on her shoulders in a comforting gesture. "The barn was old," he said. "We needed a new one anyway."
She turned to face him, searching his expression to discover his true emotions. Last night they had been so distracted by the intoxication of simply being together again, they had not discussed the other important things. "Blanche said Jeremiah saved your life."