Texas Moon TH4 (18 page)

Startled, she looked up to ask him what he was thanking her for, but he had already gone out the door. In wonder, she stared after his departing back. Peter Mulloney was nothing like she had expected. Actually, she had never even thought he was human. She didn't know if she wanted him to be a man with all the failings of a man. It was much easier to dislike a devil. But it had been a long, long time since someone had touched her with such easy familiarity. She could come to like the sensation.

When the sun rose toward noon, Janice set out for town. She didn't need to spend the entire day packing her few meager summer dresses, and without knowing how long they were remaining here, she couldn't pack everything yet. Her time would be more wisely spent in running a few other errands.

With great trepidation, she went to the bank to draw out her carefully hoarded savings. She didn't want to rely on her husband for everything.

She offered smiles and hurried excuses to the women stopping her in the street to offer their congratulations. She didn't even have time to listen to Ellen's wails about losing her schoolteacher. Janice merely made her purchases, patted the girl reassuringly, and hurried on to the butcher's. She had to make something for dinner, and maybe supper. It was difficult to know how much she needed.

She hastened back to the house and had time to discard her bonnet and gloves and start the meal before she heard a horse riding into the yard. A glance told her Peter had come home, and her heart skipped an erratic beat. Her husband made an imposing presence even when there was no one about. He sat straight in the saddle, hands firmly on the reins as he brought his mount to a halt. She couldn't see his face beneath the hat brim, and nothing in his posture as he swung down warned of his state of mind. She hurried back to the stove.

She heard him washing the dust off his face and hands before he came in. To Janice, that alone was a sign of his good upbringing. But she couldn't bring herself to smile once he stood in the kitchen. She just watched him through worried eyes.

He didn't smile either. He hung his hat on a hook by the door and ran his hand through his crushed curls. When he saw that she was cooking, he fell into their usual routine, reaching for the plates in the high cabinet.

"Tell me when I overstep my bounds," Janice murmured, her back to him. "But I've spent my life worrying about money. I can't just turn it off now. What happened?"

"They gave me the names of a few banks where I might use them as reference. Did you say your sister was staying with the Monteignes?"

Tension emanated from him in waves. She could almost hear his teeth clenching. Nervously Janice stirred the creamed corn. "Yes, but I thought you said it would take too long to go get her."

"I have to travel east anyway. I'd rather go to a friend than to a bank where I'm not known. Can you ride? I'd rather leave you here and not have you sleeping on the trail, but I imagine your sister won't appreciate it if I went to Natchez without you."

Janice looked up, incredulous. "Wouldn't the train be faster? There's a station at Fort Worth. The stage will take us right there."

Peter's expression was hard and unreadable. "I told you, I have no money. I left most everything I had with my partner back in New Mexico so he could buy supplies."

Janice stifled her growing fury and fear at the words "no money." Her stomach churned as she fought for control, a control she had tended carefully these last ten years. Ten years ago she had learned that love was dangerous; hysteria and anger, worse than useless; happiness, ephemeral. Emotions could not deal with reality. She would not give into that disabling panic and anxiety now.

But her hand went instinctively to that part of her abdomen where even now a child could be growing. She had a choice to make. She could take her few coins, go to Natchez, collect Betsy, and find a job elsewhere. Or she could offer what she had to her husband and pray that he would make the best of them. It was a terrifying choice, one she didn't feel qualified to make. She knew little or nothing of this man she had married. What little she had thought she knew seemed to be wrong.

Cautiously, she inquired, "Won't Daniel loan you the money?"

Peter's mouth hardened into a grim line. "I'm doing this on my own. I'll thank you to keep my family out of our affairs."

Startled at the anger in his tone, Janice didn't inquire further. Daniel was her friend. That didn't mean he was Peter's. Under the circumstances, she could understand Peter's resentment. Daniel, after all, had usurped the place Peter had once thought was his.

She covered her
faux pas
by saying, "One of the women in town offered to buy my cycle." She was merely thinking out loud, searching desperately for some way to satisfy the conflicting needs of supporting Betsy and making this marriage work. "I won't be able to use a cycle in New Mexico, will I?"

Peter looked at her with curiosity. "No, I suppose not. I don't think those things work well on mountains."

"I'm sure I could get enough for train fare, and maybe a little extra. And I have enough saved to buy a round-trip ticket. We can ride to Natchez. I don't know if there'll be enough to go any farther."

Peter stood frozen with his hands full of plates while he contemplated her suggestion. She could tell it went against his grain to take money from her. She could almost see the battle of wills inside of him. He wanted to refuse, but he was too practical to allow pride to make that decision.

Janice didn't know if she ought to be relieved or not. She ought to feel triumphant at stinging the arrogant pride of a Mulloney. Instead, she just felt frightened and uncertain.

"I'm your wife," she reminded him gently. "I didn't bring much into this marriage but myself, and I'm not much of a prize. If we're going to be partners, you'll have to let me contribute what I can."

He took a short breath and set the plates on the table. "I'll accept only because I can't leave you here. I want you somewhere safe, with friends."

She didn't like the way he said that, but she began dishing out the meal without saying a word. She had learned how to ignore orders and go her own way a long time ago.

They rode the last train out of Fort Worth that night.

Janice stared at the ill-matched curtains of her bunk and thought what an odd way this was to spend her second night of marriage. The bed had room for only one, and Peter had chosen to take a cheaper seat. She was relieved for that in one way, but in all others, it didn't bode well.

Unreasonably, she wanted him near. The bumping, grinding, and rolling of the train were taking her away from the security she had known these last five years. The train carried her to an uncertain destination, an uncertain future, a life she had never anticipated. She wanted reassurances. She knew Peter had none.

She clutched her fingers in the linen covering her abdomen. She knew only one thing for certain: she didn't want a baby until she again had a home to call her own. Peter would have to understand that.

She didn't think he would be very amenable to her decision. It didn't matter. He was the one who had married her under false pretenses. He was supposed to be rich.

When Peter walked down the aisle of the sleeping car some time later, he found his wife sound asleep, clutching her sheet to her breast. There was something vaguely defiant in her expression, but he attributed it to her dreams. So far she had been so wonderful about all this that he wanted to pinch himself to be certain he was awake, only he feared he really would wake up.

He brushed a straying strand of hair from her cheek and she stirred restlessly beneath his touch. He liked knowing she was his, that he had the right to touch her like this. This journey would put some serious dents in his plans to teach her how to make love, but they could make up for lost time when they reached Natchez. Time was running short, but by taking the train, he saved a great deal of it. They would be able to spend a few days getting to know each other.

He just didn't know how to let her know he wouldn't have time to take her back with him. He would have to ride flat out to make up for these lost days. He wouldn't have time for the luxury of a stage on the last leg of the journey.

But she would be with friends now. She would understand. He had married a reasonable woman.

Peter let the curtain drop and wandered back to his lonely seat. He could amuse himself by counting the hours until he had his wife back in his bed again. And when that failed to amuse him, he could picture the number of different ways he would make love to her. He'd learned any number of useful and pleasurable things these last few years. He thought with time Janice would come to learn to appreciate them.

They couldn't afford the time or the luxury of taking the train into New Orleans and a steamboat up to Natchez. They got off at the first station in Louisiana nearest the Mississippi, rented a wagon, and transported themselves to the dock. From there, they took the first boat traveling north.

If she weren't so worried, Janice would have almost enjoyed the journey. The scenery through East Texas and Louisiana was so lush and green that she wanted to reach out and touch all of it. The wagon part of the trip gave her the opportunity to smell the rich magnolias. Peter even obligingly stopped once so she could run up and touch one of the waxy blossoms. She had seen them on her first trip out here, but no one had ever given her the opportunity to really drink in their scents.

And she felt like royalty on the steamboat. The last time she had come through here, she'd rode on the lower deck with the humbler passengers. When she'd suggested they do the same now, Peter had to be told about steerage. He had barely been aware of its existence.

When he discovered it meant they would have no access to the luxurious salons of the main deck, he'd been adamantly opposed to his wife traveling in such a manner. She could tell he debated the possibility for himself, but she refused to go above unless he was with her.

That had settled it, and their brief journey to Natchez was done in style. Self-conscious at first that her plain traveling gown could not compare to the rich silks and laces of the rest of the company, Janice quickly forgot herself in the myriad amusements. Lavish crystal chandeliers danced in the sunlight, sending rainbows reflecting against mirrored walls. A piano player made soothing music to converse by while uniformed waiters circled among the passengers, taking orders for drinks. Peter indulged her with a glass of champagne, and for the first time in her life, Janice felt the frivolous bubbles tickle her tongue.

This was how she had expected life to be with Peter Mulloney. She was well out of her depth, she knew, but just this brief glimpse served to smother some of her immediate worries. She sipped the champagne, admired the view, and smiled at her husband as if she had lived in this world all her life.

"I wish you'd do that more often."

They stood outside at the rail, watching the muddy river pass beneath the slowly turning wheel. Startled, Janice gave him a puzzled look.

"There, I've gone and done it now. It's gone again. You have the loveliest smile, Mrs. Mulloney. Why don't you use it more frequently?"

The sultry summer breeze licked at her hat, and Janice grabbed it as she turned to him. "My smile?"

There was genuine puzzlement in her voice. Peter had been continually astonished in these last few days by the amount of tenderness he could summon when faced with this extraordinary creature he had married. He had known she was strong and determined and practical. He hadn't known that she was not only completely unaware of her beauty, but innocent of all forms of feminine guile. She was refreshingly straightforward, so that he always knew where he stood with her.

"You have the loveliest smile I've ever seen, but you seldom ever use it. You're not a schoolteacher any longer. You don't need to be stern and forbidding. I like to see you smile."

She still stared at him with more puzzlement than pleasure, but obligingly she managed a smile. Peter laughed at her blatant attempt to please him.

"You're going to be a marvelous wife, Mrs. Mulloney. It will be a pleasure having you to come home to."

Her smile grew more genuine with that, but before she could express her pleasure, a shattering thunder, split the air.

In the dusky sky over Natchez, a dozen skyrockets exploded, and then before the startled eyes of the passengers rushing to the deck, the sky erupted into brilliant red and gold flowers of flame welcoming their arrival.

Chapter 15