OUT OF THE DARKNESS (THE PRESCOTT SERIES) (7 page)

“Right now we
have a more pressing problem.”

Jason lowered the cup of coffee
from his lips and stared at Margaret.

“Is she injured worse than we
thought?” Jason scarcely got the words passed the lump in his throat.

“No, I didn’
t detect any serious injuries.”

His legs went limp with relief
, and he sat down at the table. Damn, he needed to get a grip on himself. He’d never had such reaction to a woman before.

Margaret arched her brow upward, stared at him intently, then continued. “
Her lack of clothing has me concerned. She can’t very well go around without a stitch on. I brought enough clothes to last me the few days I planned to spend here but not much more. But, I’ll search through my things to see what I can find.”

The images that statement invoked went skipping vividly through
his fertile mind. Down a path from her slender neck to the hollow where he had longed to sip the warm liquid that Margaret had fed her, then skimmed down to soft, full breasts, over her little round stomach. His thoughts lurched to a sudden halt. Certain he’d lost his mind, and in all likelihood had, to be having such lascivious thoughts about his pregnant guest.

“Uh….
” He swallowed hard to dislodge the constriction in his throat. He coughed, choked, and then swallowed again. “Look in the trunk in my room. You left some things here when you moved. There should be something she can use.”

“Yes,” Margaret agreed,
and gave him a curious look. “The hems will have to be taken up, but for now I think we can do with a nightgown. She shouldn’t stay up for long for the next few days. That will give me time to alter a few dresses.”

He lapsed into silen
ce. His hands gripped the cup as he finished his coffee. He could feel Margaret staring at the top of his head before she left to see what she could find in her old trunk. He let his mind wander back to “the girl” in the other room.

He had
trouble separating the emotions the ‘girl’ in the bedroom caused him: sympathy, protector, lust. Sue Ellen had not been the ‘love of his life”, but he’d cared for her. When he looked into her eyes, he didn’t have the feeling of drowning in green liquid. He had made love to her without the desperate urgency to devour her. If he ever made love to the ‘girl’, he would never want to stop.

That
troubled him. He didn’t want to lose himself in a woman, and to avoid the fear of someone he cared about dying, he decided it would be safer not to care in the first place. That was the crux of his problem. He could care very much for the ‘girl’ if this sexual attraction was any indication. Just the thought of her played havoc on his libido.

“Rinse your cup out before you
leave. I’m going to have a look in that trunk.” Margaret wiped her hands dry on a towel. Folded up the gray cloth and laid in on the end of the table.

“Sure.”
He watched Margaret disappear into his room and hoped she found something to swathe the girl in from head to toe. Something ugly, pious, and completely unappealing.

The door slammed behind him, he adjusted his crotch, and headed for the barn
. He had to keep his lust under control or his plan of a marriage of convenience would work like trying to swim with a huge rock tied around his neck.

Margaret leaned back against the closed door and worried over Jason’s concern for their guest. She didn’t want to tell him the girl hadn’t spoken and appeared to be in some sort of shock. She had heard of people who spent time with Indians who never recovered from their ordeal and hoped that for the sake of the child she carried this was not the case.

Moving to the window, she adjusted the curtain to allow
sun to shine into the dim lit room. Jason had made his bed and hung up his clothes in his usual haphazard way. She brushed wrinkles from the bed and straightened his shirts. Something was bothering her brother since they’d found the girl. Long silences and his sudden tendency to speak in short, clipped sentences wasn’t like him. She shook her head. He had most assuredly been spending too much time alone. It was time for him to be out-and-about, with more than just ranch hands for company, and she had just the plan.

She knelt on the floor and
rummaged through the trunk until she found two nightgowns and three dresses that she could alter. The dresses were out of style and the nightgowns worn thin from wear and washings. Lifting one gown up to the light streaming through the window, she allowed a wicked chuckle to escape.

“
Mmm. These should do just fine.”

W
hy had Sue Ellen not used the dresses to make over for herself? Jason never told her how they’d met, until today. He just came home one day from a buying trip and introduced her as his wife. She had been a tall slender girl with dark brown hair, a few years younger than Jason. Margaret always wondered if perhaps he’d felt sorry for her rather than being in love with her.

Nevertheless, her death had been a tragic thing.
Margaret and Jason, along with the ranch hands were the only one’s present to lay her in her final resting place. Her death had left Jason alone and with a newborn baby to raise.

Margaret had done what she could to c
onsole her grieving brother and had taken the baby home with her and John. Jason visited as much as ranch work allowed, but she could tell it tore his heart out to leave Emma on each visit, and the older she got, the worse his leave-taking had became. Even the baby, the older she got, had begun to throw tantrums when he left.

Gathering up her bounty, she left the room.
After washing the clothes in a bucket of water, she hung them out to dry, positive the “girl” would be ready for something besides those nasty buckskins to wear and hoped Cookie had burned the awful things liked she’d asked.

She smothered a giggle.
What she planned to dress their guest in tonight should peak Jason’s interest in something besides cows.

Jade finished eating
and set the tray aside. She gazed at her surroundings. The bed, she lay on, was small, yet large enough for two if they slept close together. She fingered the handmade quilt someone had fashioned from scrapes of every material and design imaginable. It lent a homey atmosphere to the small room. A chair and a washbasin set against the far wall. On the wall behind her, a small piece of string held a picture suspended from on a nail above the bed.

She
swung her feet to the floor and wiggled her toes in the braided rug lying next to the bed. The loose strings tickled her instep but the rug would be nice to put one’s feet on during the winter months.

Head cocked sideways, she listened.
The house sounded eerily quiet. No sounds of children playing or the enticing aroma of food filled the air. She pushed to her feet and stood. Her legs wobbled for a moment then strengthened. A bit shaky, she slowly made her way to the door and peeked out. The only part of the house she’d seen was the small space she considered her refuge.

The
house had one large room that ran the length of the house. One end held a large sofa that occupied most of the space. Strategically placed chairs ensured a cozy area for family interaction. An afghan lay across the back of each chair. An assortment of tables littered the room. A hand carved horse with a colt by its side occupied the center of one. Another held a philodendron planted in a blue granite bowl.

Holding to the doorframe,
Jade peered further into the room and realized it was L-shaped. Through a door on the opposite wall, she saw spacious bedrooms where the children lay sleeping. The kitchen area lay beside the bedroom she used and a large fireplace covered half the wall at the end of the room, making each room easy to heat during the winter. The door to her right, she assumed, was another bedroom or an office. Margaret took great pride in her home. It was neat, clean, and well organized.

A noise
from the next room startled her. She withdrew into her room and closed the door not wanting anyone to think she had been snooping. Sunlight streamed through cotton curtains, dotted with tiny yellow flowers, framing the window.

Easing her way along the wall
, she peered out the glass pane and blinked against the brilliant sunshine. The clear sky held no clouds, and the afternoon sun warmed her cheeks. The yard, free from tall grass and weeds, held flowers of different varieties and various colors. Some had died from the coming cold, yet others were vibrant against the background of dried grass.

A
well-worn path led to a small building with a quarter-moon cut into the upper half of the door. Her smile turned to a chuckle. At least, she now knew where to go to take care of her personal needs. Although the chamber pot in the corner would have to suffice until she was able to move about better.

Her
gaze shifted to the barn but stopped when she spied a man walking down the path with a strong confident stride. Was this Margaret’s husband? She couldn’t see his face, but she noticed his considerable height and the breadth of his wide shoulders covered in a well-worn blue shirt. If this was the same man who had been holding the baby when she had awakened, she knew his face was tanned and very good looking, with a hint of dimples in each cheek.

As she watched, he opened the d
oor to the privy and stepped inside. Her cheeks heated. What did she think she was doing watching this man’s comings and goings? Especially into this private area of his life. She quickly averted her eyes in another direction and saw what appeared to be a bunkhouse with an older man standing just outside the door. Another man? She lowered her brow in concentration. Could this be the voice she heard last night? Perhaps. But in her heart, she knew it was the younger man. Margaret’s husband.

Several horses meandered in a corral next to
a large barn. All the buildings were in good repair and coated with a dull red paint. She realized she was not in a town or a homestead, but on a ranch. Her heart sank. These people would not want their hard working life imposed upon by a stranger. She hoped they would wait until she regained her strength before they sent her away. Cautiously, she made her way back to the bed, sat on the edge, and contemplated her uncertain future.

Jason kicked the dirt from his boots and opened the backdoor. Margaret held her finger to her lips, cautioning him to be quiet. Managing to get three children down for a nap at the same time was truly a feat within itself, and he didn’t want to jeopardize her hard effort with too much noise.

From the
coffee pot on the stove, he poured himself a cup, leaned a hip against the table, and watched her prepare supper. “What do you think?”

Margaret glanced up from the potatoes
she was peeling. “About what?”

One eyebrow quirked upward, letting her
know he wouldn’t let her evasive answer sway him. “About the “girl” of course.”

He wanted his sister’s opinion of her. Margaret had always form
ed quick, accurate judgments of people and she’d spent more time with the “girl” than he had. But sometimes getting information out of her was more trouble than a wild bull at the end of a short rope.

“Tim
e will tell,” Margaret replied, slicing potatoes in the skillet heating on the stove. When the last potato sizzled in the hot grease, she turned over the fresh pork in another skillet.

Time!
Jason didn’t have time. John would be here to pick up Margaret and the kids the day after tomorrow. He had a decision to make and needed to know more about the ‘girl’. Sliding into the chair, he continued to sip his coffee as he plied her with questions.

“Have you
spoken to her any more today? Has she told you anything?” He hated the sound of desperation in his voice.

“No, I looked in on her a moment ago
, and she was asleep. I’ve a clean gown for her, so I thought I would wake her up in a bit to have a sponge bath. I’m sure she’ll feel better when she’s clean and has something to wear. Maybe she will feel more like talking afterwards.”

Now, why did she have to say that about the sponge
bath? Scenes filled his mind. Like water dripping off the end of the pink tips of her soft breasts, bubbles trailing slowly down pale thighs, and red hair hanging loose down her smooth, sleek back. Her ivory skin glowing as the night breeze wafted around her, drying each droplet of water. Arousal nearly made him drop his full cup of hot coffee in his lap.

He would have to stop thinking like this or his plan would never work, plus he would end up in a constant state of
sexual tension. Jason shifted in his chair, glad he was sitting with his lap concealed under the table. This was ridiculous. If he didn’t know better, he would swear his sister knew exactly what her words were doing to him.

“If you’ll tend to supper, I’ll see if she’s awake? She might feel like coming to the table tonight
, and you can ask her all the questions you want. How’s that?” Margaret gave him one of her mischievous grins. His sister had always connived until a situation suited her purpose. And anyone in her had best be wary.