As he drew up beside her, he noticed the stricken expression in her eyes. He stepped closer. “Honey, what’s wrong? Just because certain parts of you don’t fit in your mother’s dresses isn’t any reason to be upset.”
“Oh, Jake.”
He leaned down, trying to see her face. Knowing Indigo as he did, he felt sure there had to be a whole lot more to this than met the eye. “Oh, Jake? That doesn’t tell me a lot.”
“I can’t wear a single one of these.”
He concurred wholeheartedly. It was all he could do to keep his hands to himself. “You can make do until—”
“You don’t understand! I’ll never get any dresses made before Jeremy gets here. Never, not even on Ma’s brand-new Wheeler-Wilson!”
“Why would you—” The rest of the question died in Jake’s throat. He swallowed and tried again, not at all sure he wanted to hear her answer. “Indigo, why do you have to have dresses made before Jeremy gets here?”
“Because . . .”
The tendons along her throat stood out as she strained to speak. The words never came. Jake drew her hand from her face. The fear and pain he saw in her expression caught at his heart. With a low groan, he drew her into his arms. “Oh, sweetheart . . .”
The moment he held her close, a strange smell wafted to his nostrils. It was so strong that he forgot all else. “What is that odor?”
She stiffened. “What odor?”
He sniffed next to her ear. “It smells like lemon.”
“Oh.” She pressed her face against his shoulder. “It’s lemon water Ma mixed up.”
Jake winced. He knew what women used lemon water for; Mary Beth drenched herself with it every summer to lighten her skin. He closed his eyes. Memories washed over him of Indigo sitting under the laurel tree at the Geunther Place. Then he remembered the things he had heard Brandon Marshall say to her. For the first time in her life, Indigo was trying to mask her heritage. And why? Because she wanted him to be proud of her.
As that realization sank home, Jake came as close to getting tears in his eyes as he ever had in his adult life. One of the things he had always admired about Indigo was her fierce Comanche pride. For what seemed an eternity, he had been yearning for some sign from her that she returned his affections. Now that she had given him one, he felt sick. Because of her Indian blood, she didn’t feel good enough to be his wife? The exact opposite was true. He was the one who didn’t measure up.
Without speaking, he swept her into his arms. With Sonny following in his wake, he carried her to the kitchen, lowered her feet to the floor, and pulled a clean dish towel from the drawer. Stepping to the dish board, he tipped the water jug to moisten it. She reared back when he began to scrub her face.
“What are you”—she sputtered—“doing?”
“Washing off that damned lemon. Look up.”
“But I—” She blinked and pursed her lips.
Jake smoothed the cloth across her cheek, then bent to kiss the tip of her nose. “Don’t you ever pull something like this again. I love your skin just the way it is.”
Her eyes looked like crushed blue velvet. “Y- you do?”
Jake smiled. “I do. Women with milk-white complexions are as common as gnats in a fruit barrel. If that was what I wanted, I would have married one of them.” He leaned down and stole a quick kiss.
She didn’t look convinced. Jake caught her face between his hands and searched her gaze, his heart breaking a little at the confusion and pain he still saw there. “I love you, Indigo. Just the way you are. I love your hair. I love your skin. I love your leather skirts. I even like your buckskin pants. If I ever smell lemon on you again, I’ll wring your little neck. And I want you to take every stitch of those clothes back to your mother. Is that clear?”
“Yes, but Jeremy—”
“To hell with Jeremy. You’re married to me.”
“But—”
“No buts. Jeremy will love you just as you are. He’s going to take one look and think I’m the luckiest man who ever walked.”
“But what if—?”
He gave her a little shake. “No what ifs. All that matters is what I think, and I think you’re perfect?”
Jake could see that his words offered her little comfort. He had to accept that. Suddenly, he understood so many things about her that he hadn’t before. The question was, did she understand herself?
Chapter 19
EN ROUTE TO RETURN THE DRESSES TO HER mother the next morning, Indigo encountered Mr. Christian on the boardwalk. Sporting a new hat and boots, he gave her a courtly little bow and informed her that he had just ordered a breeding bull.
“Oh, how wonderful,” Indigo replied. She knew the farmer had been seeing hard times recently. “I’m pleased for you.”
He glanced at Sonny, who was busily sniffing grass that tufted up between the boardwalk planks. “I sure appreciated gettin’ the money, I’ll tell ya, and I’ll always be beholden.”
Slightly bewildered, Indigo studied his thin face. “Yes, well.” She smiled. “Give your wife my best. Good day to you.”
As Indigo started to walk away, the farmer called, “How you gettin’ along with that ornery cuss?”
For an awful moment, Indigo thought he meant Jake, but when she turned she saw that his gaze was directed at Sonny. “Oh, we’re getting along famously.”
Mr. Christian tugged on his ear and shook his head. “Orneriest animal I ever saw. Sure hope your mister don’t want to bring him back, ’cause I done spent the three hundred.”
With that, Deke Christian walked away. Indigo gazed after him, quite certain she had misunderstood him. A few minutes later, when she reached her parents’ house, she was still puzzling over the conversation.
“Ma, has Mr. Christian ever struck you as odd?”
Loretta turned from the oven with a baking sheet of cookies in her mittened hand. “Odd? How so?”
Indigo laid the bundle of dresses on the table. “About a half-bubble off plumb. He just ordered a bull.” Indigo frowned. “He said the oddest thing—something about Jake bringing Sonny back and wanting his three hundred dollars.”
A startled expression crossed Loretta’s face.
“You don’t mean—oh, Ma, he didn’t!”
Loretta set the baking sheet on the dish board. With a faint smile, she nodded.
“Jake bought Sonny?” Indigo glanced at the puppy in front of the hearth. “For three hundred dollars? Where did he get that much money?”
“It wasn’t polite to ask. He knew how much you missed Lobo, and he thought his son might ease your grief. I reckon three hundred dollars didn’t seem like much to him if it’d make you happy.”
Indigo sank onto a chair. “Then he—why, he never meant to shoot him at all. It was all an act to make me take him.”
Loretta chuckled. “You aren’t angry with him, are you?”
For just an instant, Indigo did feel angry. Then she looked at Sonny and a fond smile curved her lips. In truth, her days went a lot faster with the puppy as company, and now that she had grown to love him, it seemed right somehow that she should raise Lobo’s son. “No, I’m not angry,” she said softly.
“I’m glad. Jake’s heart was in the right place.” Loretta pulled a saucer from the cupboard and filled it with cookies. Coming to the table, she set it at Indigo’s elbow and then took a seat. “A man has to love a woman a lot to spend three hundred dollars on a puppy. Especially one that bit him straight off.”
A warm feeling spread through Indigo. “I guess maybe he does love me,” she whispered. “A little, anyway.”
Loretta helped herself to a cookie. She took a dainty bite, then studied her daughter. “More than a little, I’d say.” A question crept into her eyes. “Indigo, I may be treading on forbidden ground, but something Jake said the other day leads me to believe you haven’t been honoring your wifely obligations.”
Indigo thought of how tidy she’d been keeping the house and the fine dinners she had been fixing
every night. “But I—” She broke off. “Oh, you mean that wifely obligation.”
Loretta’s cheeks flushed. “So you admit it?”
Indigo squirmed on her chair. “I haven’t refused exactly.”
“You’ve been married awhile. There are things a man expects.” She scratched at a fleck of flour on her apron. “I know you married him against your will. It can’t be easy.” She glanced up. “My fear is that you’re going to make matters worse. A neglected man will press the issue. You don’t want that.”
Indigo didn’t. “But Ma—”
“Jake’s a good man, and I don’t think he’s got a mean bone. But there isn’t a man alive who can’t turn ornery. Understand?”
Indigo understood all right. “Yes, Ma.”
Loretta sniffed. “I reckon I sound heartless to you.” Her eyes darkened with emotion. “But you’re my baby, and I want to save you grief. Don’t test your husband’s patience.”
Indigo returned home worried and upset. Every time she looked at Sonny, she was assailed by guilt. Jake truly did care about her. He had shown it in dozens of ways. So why did she still feel panicky when she thought about the marriage bed?
She went to the bedroom and lay down. She imagined his scent clung to his pillow and closed her eyes. She could almost feel his arm at her waist, his hand splayed over her tummy, the warmth of him at her back.
Pretty soon, he probably would have to leave for a spell. The thought made her feel bereft. She envisioned his dark face with the ebony locks of hair curling loosely across his high forehead. Her stomach fluttered, just as it often did when he looked at her. What if he went away to another town without first making love to her? She imagined him smiling at a beautiful lady and making her stomach flutter. What if that lady set her sights on him?
A tight knot of misery settled in Indigo’s chest. He had done everything he knew to make her happy. In return, what had she given him? Nothing. Not even her trust. She had to make love with him. He deserved that much at least. If she didn’t, he might leave on a trip and never come back to Wolf’s Landing. The thought made her want to weep. Somehow, he had become the center of her world. If he never came back, she’d die inside.
Indigo opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Confusion tangled her emotions. She didn’t want to love him. She didn’t. It made her feel horrible inside, and frightened. She slanted an arm across her eyes and sobbed. It wasn’t fair that he had made her feel this way. It just wasn’t fair.
At noon break, Jake left the mine and headed for home. Since the arrival of Jeremy’s letter, he was no longer convinced that Brandon Marshall was behind the incidents at the mine. That being the case, it was also unlikely that the rock slide had been aimed at Indigo. Knowing how much she missed working, Jake had been giving the matter consideration. If the accidents hadn’t been intended for her, then why couldn’t he take extra precautions to ensure her safety and allow her to come back?
When he reached the house, he found Indigo asleep on the bed. He crept close and touched his fingertip to her silken eyelashes. She blinked and slowly opened her eyes. For a moment, she just stared up at him as if she didn’t see him.
“Jake?”
“Who do you think?” he asked with a low chuckle.
She pushed up on an elbow. “What are you doing home?”
“A little bird told me you were being lazy.”
“Oh. Is there something I should be doing?”
Jake folded his arms and narrowed an eye at her. “Some partner you are, sleeping the day away. Get up and put your britches on, Mrs. Rand. We’ve got work to do.”
“Where?”
“At the mine.”
She bolted to a sitting position. “The mine? But you—what about—Do you mean it? You said it wasn’t safe.”
“I’ve been thinking it over, and nothing’s happened in so long, I’m willing to gamble a little.” Jake held up a hand. “With some stipulations. You only work half-days.”
She steepled her fingers and looked rapturous. “Oh, yes! Half-days would be wonderful!”
“And you work with me. No wandering off. That’s only temporary—just until I’m positive it’s safe.”
“Oh, yes! Yes!” She nodded emphatically. “I don’t mind that, really I don’t, Jake. You’ll think I’m your shadow.”
“There’s more,” he warned. “No heavy lifting, and if I see you with a pick or shovel, I’ll wrap it around your little neck.”
Her face fell. “But what can I do then?”
Jake leaned toward her. “Do you agree to the terms or not?”
Her face brightened. “Just being there will be wonderful.”
“Then get dressed.”
She leaped to her feet and ran to the bureau. After jerking out a pair of britches, she whirled back around and launched herself at him. Jake unfolded his arms just in time to catch her. She hugged his neck. “Oh, Jake, thank you.”
Before he could reply, she wriggled free and started dragging her pants on under her skirt. Jake couldn’t help but laugh. He’d never seen such a quick change in all his life.
“Have you had your lunch?” he asked.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat.” He swept her skirt from the floor and tossed it on top of the bureau. “No arguments.”
Indigo was so thrilled to be back at the mine that she didn’t resent the restrictions. Since first meeting Jake, she had sensed that he didn’t approve of women working. His allowing her to be there at all was a concession. She wasn’t about to complain, and she managed to find plenty to do. Several times during the afternoon, he sought her opinion before making a decision, which made her feel a part of things.
The afternoon flew by, and before Indigo knew it, the men began to leave for home. Jake noted her crestfallen expression and chucked her under the chin.
“Don’t look so low in the lip. You can come back tomorrow.”
Indigo hugged her waist and took a deep, blissful breath. “Oh, how I love the smell here.”
He leaned a shovel against the tunnel entrance, then turned to give her a slow wink. “Me, too. It reminds me of you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You smell like sunshine and fresh air and pine trees”—he chuckled—“and dirt.”
“I don’t either smell like dirt.” She met his gaze and began to look uncertain. “Do I?”
He threw back his head and laughed. On the way down the mountain, he took her hand. As they walked through the woods, the sun shone in their eyes one moment; then shade fell over them. It was serene, a perfect afternoon kissed with the promise of spring, yet. . . . She felt unsettled and didn’t know why.
“How much more sunshine are we likely to get?” he asked.
She frowned. Her feelings felt as stirred up as Ma’s flapjack batter. “Not much. When March comes in like this, it usually goes out with a flood.”
He smiled over at her. Suddenly the air seemed too thick to breathe.
“Then we ought to enjoy it all we can,” he told her in a low, rich voice. “How’s about fixing a picnic dinner and eating in the woods this evening?”
Indigo did her best to smile with enthusiasm. She loved the forest. So why did the suggestion make her feel trapped?
Stretched out on his side, his head propped on the heel of his hand, Jake gazed across the meadow. The whisper of pine boughs lulled him. The coolness of the breeze kissed his skin. Though dinner had been simple fare, he felt content, due in part to his surroundings, but mostly because of the woman beside him.
Shifting his gaze, he traced the lines of her profile. He loved the gentle slope of her high forehead. When he looked at her brows, he wanted to run his fingertip along their arches. Her small nose, so like her father’s, lent her a regal, wild air, offset by a fragile jaw and sweetly pouted lips. He especially loved her chin, stubbornly squared, but adorable in miniature.
A precious blend of strength and vulnerability. There was something about the way sh
e held herself, head lifted, shoulders straight, that hinted at a spirit no man could ever break. Yet when he touched his loosely folded knuckles to her cheek, the span of his fist stretched the entire length of her jaw.
She turned and caught him smiling. “What?” she asked.
Jake gave her a slumberous look. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About you.” Her blue eyes caught the fading sunlight and shimmered down at him, as clear as lightly tinted glass. “You’ve got such beautiful eyes.”
“You couldn’t see my eyes.”
His grin broadened. “You’ve got beautiful everything. Especially that dirt on your nose.”
She rubbed. “Did I get it?”
“A little to the right.”
Bracing herself on one elbow, she leaned down. Jake swiped with his thumb at the nonexistent dirt. “There.” He curled his hand around her nape. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “Stay down here and talk to me.”
“About what?”
An ache crept up the back of Jake’s throat. He hated to ruin what had thus far been an almost perfect day, but he couldn’t handle her with kid gloves forever. They had some serious problems, and now that he sensed their origin, he had to begin dealing with them. Gently, if he could. Facing the truth within one’s self could hurt. “You could teach me how to talk to animals. You never know when I’ll have to feed Toothless.”
Her eyes turned turbulent. “It isn’t really talking. Animals just take to me.”
“You do it with your eyes. I’ve seen you with Sonny.”
Clearly uneasy, she avoided looking at him and toyed with a tendril of hair. Since finding her in the bedroom last night, frantically donning white women’s clothing, Jake wasn’t the least bewildered by her denial.
“Indigo, look at me,” he whispered.