A Convenient Wife (22 page)

Now, in this moment, she was simply his wife, and his memory was filled with moments of tenderness and passion. During the short weeks of their marriage, he had come to recognize the sweetness, the innocent appeal of the woman he had taken to himself. It was love he felt for her, and for the second time, he recognized it fully.

Ellie looked up at him, her smile knowing, pale lips curving in a tempting invitation. “Would you like to stay with me for a while, Doc?” she asked simply. “I don't think Ethel's come in yet, has she?”

“I told her I'd take care of things this morning,” he said. “She'll be over later on.”

Ellie's hands reached for him, her slender fingers strong as they tangled in his shirtfront, and she tugged him closer. “I don't suppose I'm very appealing to you right now, but I have a powerful need, Win.”

He relented, sitting beside her, then lifted her to his lap, careful to wrap her in the quilt. Leaning against the headboard, he gathered her to himself, his arms enclosing her, aware of the movement of the child that rested against his
stomach. Possessive fingers spread wide across her belly as he mapped the form of her babe. She was growing rapidly, well into the eighth month, and he thought of the day to come, when he would deliver her of this baby.

She moved against him and his mind formed a decision, one he knew only too well he might regret, given the circumstances. Yet, he would not wound her by ignoring her plea, for Ellie asked little of him. Delving beneath the quilt, he found firm, rounding flesh, warmth and the scent of woman. “I've missed this,” he told her, his palm curved beneath the weight of her pregnancy.

She sighed, leaning against him more fully, her arm twining around his neck to draw his face against hers. He kissed her then, fully aware of her arousal as his fingers curved to cup her feminine warmth. Her lips were soft against his, and he cherished them, his kisses tender. Fever had dried them until they bled, then peeled, and the new skin was fragile.

“Did you put on the cream Ruth left for your mouth?” Her reply was a soft murmur.

“It tastes like wildflowers,” he told her, and she sighed against his lips. Her breath was sweet, no longer tainted with the scent of fever and congestion. And yet he knew the ordeal was not complete, that she would need constant care for the next days. But for now, he was filled with a sense of yearning for that which would please her, and his head dipped lower to where her breasts were covered by quilt and gown.

Ellie's hand dropped to her throat, pushing aside the covering that kept him from her skin, her fingers agile as they undid the buttons he had so recently put into their casings. In movements he recognized as unfamiliar to her, she guided him to the firm flesh that awaited his attention, and he obliged. His tongue tasted her, reveling in the flavor of her skin. His nose pressed against the fullness as he sought the crest that pebbled between his teeth.

A whimper caught his attention and he was still. “Are you tender? Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, a single movement of denial, and then her hand pressed against his head, guiding him. “Ah, Win.” It was a sigh of contentment, a whisper of delight as he suckled the treasure she offered. His hand pressed against her feminine warmth, his fingers probing, silently urging her compliance, and she opened to him. Her hips rose as he sought and found the source of her pleasure, and he explored the folds with tender care.

Ellie sighed, a soft eager sound that grew into a moan of appreciation as he guided her toward the goal he had set. “Shh, just rest easy,” he whispered, slowing the rhythm, anticipating her growing arousal, feeding the flames with gentle movements that shattered her composure. She inhaled a shuddering breath, whispering his name, her fingers clenching in his hair. Her head fell back, and he answered the unspoken demands of rising hips and pleading whimpers.

Slowly, carefully and with a skillful touch, he brought her release, an achingly tender pinnacle of joy that brought shivering, shuddering groans of pleasure into being.

She relaxed then, her body quivering with the satisfaction of his loving, and he soothed her damp flesh with soft caresses, easing from her slowly, his hand once more seeking the rounding of her belly. The babe moved against his palm, a thrust of some small limb, and he heard the giggle Ellie tried to smother.

“I think he's protesting my intrusion,” Win whispered, lifting his head from the skin he'd cherished. He kissed her mouth then, aware of the resilience of the woman he held. She'd been almost at death's door, and though it was a morbid thought, he knew the truth of his mind's appraisal of her condition. Now so short a time later, she was once more in the land of the living, her senses alert, her body healing, even now replete in the aftermath of his loving.

“Win?” Her query held concern, and her hand slid into his hair, fingers tunneling through the heavy, dark locks. Her eyes held a question he could not ignore.

He met her gaze and his lie was spoken with barely a flicker of his eyelashes. “I only wanted to give you pleasure,” he said. “I can wait.”

She looked troubled for a moment, but a yawn overtook her concern and she blinked her surprise. “I can't be sleepy again. I only woke up an hour ago.”

“I wore you out,” he teased, holding her closely and rocking her in his arms. “Close your eyes, Ellie. Sleep. I'll stay with you.”

She smiled, contentment softening her features, and her words were slurred, as though they tumbled from a mind already seeking oblivion in slumber. “I love you, Win. I'm…” Her eyelids fluttered open and she frowned. “Do you really love me?”

“Oh, yes, Ellie. I love you,” he said, then watched as her smile erased the frown. “I love you.” It was a whisper this time, a tender avowal of passion. “I love you.” He repeated it once more, his heart filled to overflowing with the powerful emotion he could not contain.

“S
o you're the girl my nephew's so besotted with. Thought I'd never get a chance to make your acquaintance, what with him making me wait to meet you.” Gregory's eyes twinkled as he offered Ellie his hand, and then stunned her by turning their joined palms and placing a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“Congratulations, young lady. You've managed to turn this levelheaded fellow into a doting husband. Couldn't have happened to a better man.” He laughed at his own humor and slapped Win's shoulder, a thumping blow that made Ellie wince.

“I'm so pleased you were able to visit. Win's never told me much about his family. You're a welcome sight.” She stood before the tall, rotund gentleman and looked up into piercing blue eyes.

Her shoulders drew back and Ellie found herself speaking her mind, not daring to look in Win's direction, lest he wear a frown at hearing her blunt words. “I'm probably not what his family would have chosen for Win, but I'm doing my best to be a good wife to him.”

“Bother the family,” Gregory said vehemently, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “They never understood
the boy the whole time he was growing up. Never had a head for the law from the word
go.
Just dragged home every wounded creature he could find and tried to put them back together.” He turned to Win, his smile reminiscent. “Do you remember the infirmary you had in the woodshed? I helped you make pens and cages on Saturday afternoons on the sly. Figured your mother would never dirty her skirts by going out there and you'd be safe.”

“We were right,” Win agreed, and Ellie was touched by the look of respect and affection he turned on his uncle. “Remember the night I told them I wasn't going to law school? You stood beside me and took the blame, as I recall.”

Gregory chuckled. “My shoulders were wide enough to handle it. Still are, as a matter of fact. I reckon that's why your father sent me here. He thought I should be the one to clear up this mess.” His gaze traveled to Ellie and became questioning.

“I don't know the whole story yet, Winston, but I'm sure you had good reason to marry this woman. Just be sure you don't leave any loose ends. She doesn't need to go through any more run-ins with her father or those scallywags from Philadelphia.”

“I had good reason,” Win affirmed quietly. “And the reasons have only become more valid in the past weeks.” He drew Ellie to his side, his arm circling her waist, holding her close, as though he sensed her lagging strength.

The day had been her best of the whole recovery period. But after finally cooking a meal, all on her own, and then bathing and dressing for this visit, she was growing weary. Now the big bed she'd left with such energy early this morning seemed to invite her presence. She leaned against Win, and he shot a quick glance at her.

“I think Ellie needs to be off her feet, Uncle,” he said. With a sudden move that had her clutching at his neck, Win picked her up in his arms.

“Will we see you again?” she asked as Win hesitated long enough for her to make her farewell.

Gregory's big hand touched her cheek. “You'll see me again, Ellie. Probably not this visit, but I'll be back one of these days, and I'll bring Win's aunt Elmira with me. Maybe you two can take a trip to Saint Louis after the weather breaks in the spring. The family will be anxious to see the baby.”

“But…” Ellie bit at her lip. How to deny Win's fatherhood?

Gregory nodded. “I know…I know,” he said. “But Win's going to be the only father your child will know, young lady. Let him begin as he means to go on.”

“I have,” Win told him. “And now, Ellie needs a nap.” He turned with her and left the parlor, and she sagged against his chest.

“I'm a little tired,” she admitted. “I guess I'm not as strong as I thought I was.”

“You're strong,” Win said, as he carried her into the bedroom. “If you weren't, you'd still be flat on your back. All that hard work you've done all your life has given you the constitution of a man who's done hard labor for a living.”

“That doesn't sound very flattering,” she said with a small laugh. “Makes me sound more male than female.”

“Now, that's a long way from true,” he said, bending to place her on the mattress. “You're the most womanly creature I've ever known.” He lifted her foot, removing her shoe, then rubbed her toes through the heavy fabric of her stockings.

“Um…that feels good,” she whimpered, closing her eyes as she snuggled into the pillow.

“You're spoiled, young lady,” Win teased, working on the other foot. He placed her shoes on the floor, then lifted the quilt to cover her. “I want you to stay right there until dinnertime. Ethel is making soup for you, and you have time to take a nap.”

She yawned, lifting one hand to cover her mouth. “I've
never been so tired in my life, as during the past few days.” Her eyelids threatened to close as she spoke, and she blinked, wanting to tell Win the thoughts that were swirling in her head. Somehow, it didn't seem she'd be able to, and she gave in to the delicious sensation of slumber, the warmth of the quilt luring her to nestle into the mattress.

“I'll be back,” Win promised, bending to touch his lips to her forehead.

She murmured something, then heard his chuckle as he turned to leave the room.
I love you.
The words whispered in her head, repeating over and over in a litany that lulled her, and she sighed as the door closed behind him.

 

“That's cold,” Ellie complained, as Win's stethoscope touched her belly.

“No, you're warm,” he said, contradicting her with a teasing glance. He bent low, his eyes closing as he listened, then moved the metal bell to another spot, this time lower, nodding as if what he heard was satisfactory. “The heart tones are good,” he said after a minute, removing the earpieces and folding the tubes.

A weekly event, one he'd insisted on during the past weeks, her examination took only minutes, with Win's hands firm against the solid rounding of her belly. And then came the listening, his patience limitless as he monitored the heart of her unborn child.

“You made a hit with my uncle,” he said, lifting his head after a moment. “He was sorry to leave, but he felt he'd stayed too long as it was.”

“He loves you,” she said simply. “I think as if you were his son.”

“Probably more than my father ever did,” Win said, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. “He and Aunt Elmira have no children. I think they've decided to concentrate on me. Especially
when my family almost disowned me for turning my back on the family traditions.”

Ellie watched his face as he listened again, then smiled as he removed the earpieces and folded the black rubber tubes in his hand. “Can I try to hear it, too?” she asked, wondering what he heard that pleased him, anxious to be as connected in that way, as he was to the child within her.

“Certainly,” he said. “Here, sit up so it will reach. You'll have to bend a little.”

“There's not much bend left in me,” Ellie said ruefully. She propped herself against the pillows and sat erect, reaching eagerly for the instrument. The earpieces fit snugly and she placed the bell against the upper rise of her belly. A swishing sound was loud in her ears and her eyes widened. The distinct beat was muffled, another seeming to echo it in the background.

“I can't tell what I'm hearing,” she said impatiently, moving the bell lower as she bent her head.

“Probably your own heartbeat way up there,” Win told her. He lowered the bell to rest beneath her navel and pressed it against her skin. “Now listen. It's going to be faster than your heart tones. And you're listening through the amniotic fluid, too. That swishing sound is the noise it makes flowing through the umbilical cord.”

“Amniotic fluid?” she asked, aware that this was a language foreign to her. She only knew that there was a lot of messy stuff going on when animals gave birth, and she'd seen the cord that attached the babies to their mothers. Now, through the sounds vibrating in her ears, came a rapid
thump-thump
she recognized as the beating heart of her child, and her eyes filled with tears.

“I know it's real, Win. I sure feel enough kicking going on. But to hear it and know it's my baby's heart that's making that sound… It's enough to take a body's breath away.”

Win sat closer, removing the earpieces, aware that he'd put
off this conversation long enough. “I think it's time for a lesson on childbirth,” he told her. “Having a baby is essentially the same every time, and I know you didn't see the whole thing when Kate delivered, but there was a certain amount of fluid that was discharged before the baby was born.”

“I was busy holding her hand and rubbing her back most of the time,” Ellie agreed. “I knew there was a lot of washing to do afterward, with towels and sheets, and those pads she had ready.”

“Well, we're going to make up some pads for you, too. In fact, I'm going to the newspaper office and get a stack of old papers and cover them with old pieces of sheeting. That way we can just throw them away afterward. It'll save on the washing.”

“Will they know what you want them for?” Ellie asked, flushing at the thought of the newspaper editor being privy to such intimate details.

Win shrugged. “Maybe so, but it won't be the first time I've done it. Newspaper is about as close to a sterile sheet as you can get. Some folks still don't understand that childbed fever comes from unclean hands and instruments, and dirty sheets beneath the mother.” He folded his stethoscope and put it in his bag. “We're not taking any chances with you, sweetheart. I want a live, healthy baby.” He bent to kiss her, more thoroughly this time.

“And, above all, I want this mother to come through with everything in working order, and no rips or tears to heal.”

“Tears?” Ellie felt her skin crawl at that thought. “I'm not sure what you're talking about.”

Win looked as though he wished he'd kept his mouth shut, his lips tightening as he considered her query. “Sometimes the baby is larger than we expect, and once in a while a doctor doesn't use proper care, and the mother tears when she delivers the head.” He placed a hand against her belly, as if to reassure
her. “That's not going to happen with you. I'll be extra careful, I promise.”

Ellie inhaled deeply. “I didn't know there was all that much to it. Usually, when the animals have their young, they just pop them out and then get up and go about their business.” She thought a moment, remembering Kate's ordeal. “But then, I guess it wasn't quite that simple with Kate, was it?”

Win hesitated. “I won't try to pull the wool over your eyes, Ellie. Kate had an easy delivery. Sometimes, it's much harder than that. But,” he said quickly, “I don't anticipate anything going wrong with you. The baby is fine, and you're a strong woman, and on top of that, you're built just right for having babies.”

She frowned. “So is every other woman.”

Win shook his head. “Not true, honey. But you've got nice hips.” And at that, his hand strayed from the high rounding of her belly to the fullness of her hipline, and his fingers squeezed gently. “Very nice hips.”

She shot him a haughty look. “Enough of your messin' around, Winston Gray. You're supposed to be a dignified doctor, and here you are makin' eyes at your patient.” She swung her legs to the other side of the bed, and slid her feet to the floor. “We've fiddled around long enough with this examination thing. I'm going to the kitchen, and you get to sit and watch while I fix supper.”

“You're kinda feeling your oats, aren't you?” he asked, grinning as she slid into her house shoes. She rounded the bed and he encircled her shoulders with his long arm. “Let me give you a hand. I don't mind helping, and we'll be done sooner. How about fried potatoes and applesauce and the leftover meat loaf from dinner?”

She nodded. “Anything sounds good to me. I'm hungry all the time since I'm feeling better.” They walked through the kitchen doorway, Win standing aside for Ellie to go before him.

“You're not totally back to your old self yet,” he cautioned her. “I don't want you to overdo. In fact, I think Ruth is coming by tomorrow to take a look at you.”

Ellie watched as Win reached for an iron skillet and placed it on the stove. “You don't mind that she comes?” she asked casually. She'd wondered at Win's ability to allow Ruth's medicine to supplement his own.

“I'll tell you the same thing I told her the first time she was here, honey. I'd do anything it took to get you back on your feet. Up to, and including the magic Ruth makes.”

“You think it's magic?” she asked cautiously. “She didn't weave any spells as far as I could tell.”

Win looked over his shoulder at her. “Not that kind of magic. Just the innate knowledge she has that has come down through the centuries from her people. The Native Americans know things the medical profession still has to learn.”

“I'll slice those potatoes,” Ellie offered as Win brought a bowl of leftover boiled potatoes from the pantry, and he veered from his path to place it on the table.

“Good. You can probably do it quicker than I,” he said agreeably. “I'll warm the meat loaf.” He poured a bit of bacon grease into the skillet from the cup atop the stove and Ellie heard it begin to sizzle. Settling in a chair, she made short work of the leftover potatoes.

“I'll just be another minute,” she said. “That pan sounds like it's ready.” Win watched the food as she set the table, and in less than ten minutes, they were eating. Ellie leaned back in her chair to watch as Win dove into his food. “I thought I'd never get to sit at this table again,” she told him. “I was so sick of eating off a tray, and dripping soup down my chin. I'm not good at being a patient, I'm afraid.”