Rescued (Flowers of the Bayou) (25 page)

Still, feeling her chin rest upon his shoulder blade and the warmth of her breath as she heaved a sigh, he knew there was nothing in the world that could tear him away from her at that time. The moment was scary, it was also heaven.

For that reason alone the formidable structure of the white fortress that was his had come all too soon. She had released him and ended her comforting banter as soon as they made it to the stable.

By the time he had hopped down however and turned to retrieve her from Colossus she had her arms out and a pleasant smile on her lips as he lifted her down. Mindful of her flimsy coverings all the while she let him fully take her into his arms, making it possible to clutch the front of the sheet.

“Modest to the end aren’t you Princess?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been sleepier in my life and don’t call me Princess.” Amelia said through a yawn. It was true her whole body felt dead dog tired. She’d lay down right on the ground if only it were dry.

Taking in her appearance for the thousandth time that day Jordan gave her a queer look. “Are you sure you’re alright.”

“Yes.” Amelia tried to assure him with a faint smile. However that soon lifted from her face as she stared at his, slightly blue from the chill in the air. “I knew you would freeze.” Taking his hands within hers, Amelia quickly began rubbing her palms over his blowing warm air on them every other interval. “Come, let’s get inside.”

“What about Colossus?” Quirking an eye at her, he awaited her response as if she was responsible for the grand stallion.

“Send someone out for him.” She answered without pause then began to briskly walk toward back of the house towing Jordan behind.

Jordan gave his horse one more glance, he would be all right. Feeling the icy drops of rain fall from his hair to his shoulder he had to hasten his steps, in seconds walking side by side with her as they entered through the back of the kitchen. “You’ve got me sneaking into my own home. I live here the house is mine we could have entered through the front.”

“Not looking like we do.” Adjusting her makeshift clothing Amelia peeped out into the hall. It was empty and she was thankful. She sprinted toward the foyer and she could hear that he was behind her.

Amelia didn’t think twice as he took her hand and led the way up the winding stairway down the left hall and into his darkened room. She watched him as he drew the curtains and the little light that peeked through the clouds, leaked into the room. “It’s cold.”

“I have an idea that will keep you warm.” Jordan said with a deep dimpled smile.

“Here” Snatching the heavy comforter from the mattress. Amelia started toward him intending on wrapping him up.

“I will stoke a fire.” Jordan laughed.

Ignoring him Amelia walked up behind him reaching high to lay the blanket across his shoulders. Leading him toward a chair she motioned for him to sit and when he complied knelt before him to remove his wet heavy boots.

“For someone who doesn’t altogether care for me that much you have a funny way of showing it.”

“I never once said I didn’t care for you,” casting her eyes downward she tugged at his other boot. “I care for you.”

Jordan peered down at her then and with his hand forced her chin up so that he could look into her eyes. “Is that so?”

“Yes that’s so.” Taking a moment to look up she continued. “Please don’t mock me.”

“Would I ever mock you Princess?”

“Yes.” Pursing her lips together Amelia gave him an awkward look and rose above him. “I need something to wear.”

“What’s wrong with how you are?”

“May I borrow a shirt.” Amelia requested, and playfully hit him on his shoulder when he gave her a sad look of defeat.

“What if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll scrounge one up for myself. Besides I need to go before it gets dark so I can get into my own clothes and finally eat.” Amelia knew she sounded like a child in a huff from her tone but she didn’t care she was still cold her hair was a mess and she was starving.

Groaning Jordan placed his hands about her waist to pull her to him. Looking down at her he gave a wicked smile. “By no means are you leaving this house tonight.”

“You’re keeping me captive?”

“So it would seem.” Standing now so that he towered over her Jordan hugged her to him and tilted his head down so that he could murmur in her ear. “But I will feed you.”

“I don’t think I’m hungry enough to suffer what will ensue if I stay.” “You have no choice.”

“Says who?” Amelia raised her tone defiantly but it was laced with mirth.

“I say.” Jordan laughed at the look she threw his way. Walking over to the large cherry dresser in the corner of his bedroom Jordan pulled open a drawer and removed two shirts and a dark russet pair of trousers.

Tossing the shirt to her he turned his back while she put it on and in that time removed the wet pants he wore replacing them with the pair that was dry.

Amelia gave him her back and with ease slipped into the large white linen shirt. Coming to the last button on the long shirt Amelia went to the task of braiding and wrapping her wildly curly hair up in a bun.

By the time he had pulled on his trousers and decided against the shirt he had taken out, Amelia had wiggled completely into her clothing and now stood hands over head winding an untamed braid into some type of chignon with hundreds of tiny tendrils falling out every which way.

While she was distracted Jordan lazily took in her appearance letting his eyes trail down her body only to stop where the end of his white cotton shirt hung at the middle of her thigh.

While she could not see him she could feel him staring. He always was. Truth to be told she was getting used to it. Still she felt a quick remark was well in order. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He knew well enough what he was doing but he’d never admit to it, not because he was embarrassed, but because if he did he wouldn’t get the same reaction. Falling blindly back toward the four post bed Jordan propped himself up upon some pillows and continued to gape at her figure, but now in a more relaxed position.

He watched as she spied the silver covered platter that no doubt had been unnoticed in his haste that morning. Opening it she decided against everything else on the plate except two sweet rolls that she tore into unceremoniously. “I thought I told you I would feed you.”

“Now you don’t have to. I told you I have to leave.” Taking another bite she spoke rudely as she chewed. “But I could use some water.”

“From the way you’re stuffing your face I’m know that you could.”

“Could you get me a glass?”

“You know the way.” Jordan replied kicking back the remaining sheets to lie beneath them.

“I know and I would go if I had just a bit more to wear. I don’t think anyone here will take to nicely to me strolling down the stairs in your under things.”

“I think quite a few of them might just like it.” Grabbing for a cigar Jordan coolly lit the tip and inhaled deeply. “I don’t think anyone will tell.”

“That’s a nasty habit” Amelia referred to the cigar he held in his hand and surprisingly he took the offensive piece and put it out. Amelia took a hesitant step toward the foot of the bed and even more skeptically took a seat there.

The portion of the bed she sat upon was so soft she felt that she might sink right in; it also served to remind her of her sleepy state resulting in a deep yawn. “You can’t touch me, alright?” Amelia voiced her warning but it was more a plea. She needed to rest even if for only a minute or two.

“You know that your request is one I have no intention on granting.” He didn’t—as soon as she was within his reach he let his fingers come up to her hair and in a single move undid the loose bun she had created, in seconds lustrous curls came tumbling down to her shoulders. “You should keep your hair in this state at all times. It’s becoming.”

“I don’t like it curly, it’s hard to keep.” Amelia replied already going to the task of fixing another twist. Her hands were held steady however and she let them fall to her lap. “Stop that.”

“Leave it alone.” Jordan demanded threading his fingers through the thick mass.

“Alright.” Amelia began in surrender. “Why don’t you cut your hair?” Touching a strand as he did hers she played with a piece that had fallen out of place before laying it back where it belonged. “I don’t think it’s considered proper the way you have it.” It was short enough to be considered decent but just long enough to curl ever so slightly at the tips lending him a boyish element. She liked that, the way it was unruly, she also enjoyed the color, which was neither black nor brown but some deep meshing of the two.

“What do I care for what is proper or not?” Was his reply and he relaxed all the more as she played with his locks.

“For Georgia’s sake you should.” Amelia started only to be interrupted as he took her hand from his hair and place it to his chest.

“Keep that up and I’ll fall asleep.”

“I would think you’d want to sleep after today.”

“Sleep?” He said incredulous. “With you lying right next to me?” With a cat-like quickness he pulled her to him and kissed her soundly on the lips with a resounding smack. “And neither will you after I’m through.”

“Please Jordan, let’s be serious.” Amelia cut him off without hesitation. “I know you can’t really find me that attractive.”

Jordan paid her no heed; she was only trying to get herself out of the current situation. Something he didn’t intend to let happen. Entwining his fingers with hers he brought her hand to his lips. The gold band on her thumb gleaming from the light then caught his eye. “Gone forever the silver?” He wanted to know.

“What are you talking about?” Amelia had been preoccupied looking at how the muscles in his abdomen contracted as he propped himself further up on the pillows. Even more distracted was she when he reached behind to place one arm behind his neck the action revealing a long scar running the length of his right side. She’d not noticed it before. “What happened?” Placing her hand to the spot she pulled back when he flinched, as if her touch had been fire.

“It’s nothing.” Jordan supplied and let her once again put her hand to the ragged scar.

“How did that happen?” Amelia wanted to know

“A vengeful wife.” Jordan answered simply but it was hard question to answer. No one had ever asked of the jagged mark. It had always just been assumed that those who saw didn’t care or they already knew the story. She was the first to ever outright ask and it was a surprise to him that it brought back old feelings of anger..

“Why?” She whispered low in her throat.” I can’t think of anything that you could do that would make me so angry I’d do something like that.”

“Princess.” Moving her hands toward his chest Jordan pushed away the ache in his chest at the look of sadness in her eyes. “Princess.” He repeated when she would return her soft fingers to the scar.” Stop, it’s an old wound long forgotten. You act as if it still may hurt.”

“I think it still might.” She placed a sweet kiss to the mark as if kissing away the pain of a child. Then she placed her palm across his heart and she could feel it lurch and speed up at her touch. “Even a broken heart can heal if you let it.”

“Stop.” Jordan moved her hand from his chest quickly, and then just as swiftly, he moved from her to the edge of the bed wanting as much space between them as possible.

She was sorry as soon as she had said it. Not because she felt she was wrong but because it hurt him. She would never want to hurt him. The look on his face was like a dagger through her own heart and at once she regretted it.

Amelia kicked back the heavy blanket and crawled up behind him. Wrapping soft arms around him from behind she kissed his back. “I’m sorry.” Hugging him to her she placed another kiss at the nape of his neck.

“For what? “Jordan began. “My beautiful Princess, there’s nothing to be sorry about.” Twisting awkwardly in her arms he made it so that his nose was touching her own and he could look into her eyes as he touched his lips to hers in an innocent kiss. “However if there is any pain, hurt, or any festering wounds.” He added with a chuckle, “You’re well on your way to completely healing them all.”

“I thought there was nothing to heal.” Amelia stated hoping to lighten the mood.

“I said ‘if.’” Jordan countered quickly. Once again taking advantage of their close proximity to lean in and taste her sweet lips.

Not wanting to let herself become carried away as she often did when he kissed her, Amelia pulled away. “I’m tired.”

“How can you be tired when you’re with me?”

“Easily, you wear me out.”

“If you go to sleep now, be ready to stay awake all night.”

“All night.” Amelia teased. Falling back onto the feather soft bed.

“All night.” He assured her. “And all morning. Maybe even all afternoon and day.” Standing Jordan pulled the weighty blanket playfully up and over her head before heading toward the door.

Peering out from underneath the darkness of the warm cover Amelia watched him open the door. “Where are you going?”

“I always have work.”

“Good.”

“Why?” Jordan asked laughter lacing his voice at her zealous reply.

“By the time I wake up you’ll be tired, there will be no night morning afternoon and day.”

“There is no chance in hell of that Princess.” And with that he shut the door to her laughing face.

*

Margaret sipped from her mint julep coolly and with poise, an action that would no doubt have given her mother great pride if she were only there to see it. The rain had put a damper on their festivities but Jasper soon lightened everyone’s mood by joking carelessly and flirting relentlessly with the girls.

The girls Jessie, Leonora and Nina, though they would laugh and giggle at every slick remark it seemed as if their minds were far away from the goings-on at the moment. They were such pretty girls, indeed not girls but women. Jessie had flawless dark chocolate skin and fine features to compliment the set of perfect brows and exaggerated eyelashes. Jasper had taken note of them at least a hundred times already.

Her short cropped hair was placed in tight curls all about her head bringing out bright brown eyes with a cat-like appearance and Margaret believed she was the most exotic looking woman she’d seen in a long time. The other two looked more like sisters than the rightful pair. Slightly lighter more of a darkened caramel, they were nearly of the same height which towered over Margaret’s five seven. They were undeniably ideal, tall and slender. They both donned identical hairstyles of two French braids to the back tied with a simple yellow bow. They talked nearly the same and even agreed on the same things. What they agreed on now however was that they should be getting along soon.