They made their way into the darkness of an empty stall, their hands searching each other’s body knowingly, confidently, not shyly—unbuttoning a shirt, tugging at a dress to feel more skin, each touch more comforting and familiar as they settled onto a soft bed of straw, never losing sight of the look in each other’s eyes, a deep blue ocean broken by a small island where they both sought refuge after a long, long, journey.
CHAPTER 33
The sun was just breaking over the cloudless horizon, warm, fuzzy yellow light slowly eating upward into the grayness of night. Somewhere in the distance, a robin began to chirp, not singing like in spring, but calling out for another of its kind. It only took a second for an answer to come back, farther away, but familiar—then the closest robin rejoiced, breaking into a song that was meant to announce its existence and location.
Morning was coming on gently, but Josiah was in no hurry to see the day fully arrive. He wanted time to stop, wanted to live in the private world he and Pearl had created over the past few hours, and live there for the rest of his life.
It was a world with no past or future, no responsibilities or consequences. It just was—of the moment—of need, desire, fulfillment, touch, and the rush of power rising deep from their loins and hearts. They were like animals, unleashed and unashamed of anything that was brought on by instinct. Their bodies had smashed together, then molded to each other. After that, discovery and pleasure were the only things that mattered.
Love and longing were not mentioned. Their physical attraction had long since been judged as mutual—there was no indecision getting in the way of their need to touch and be touched. They both had trudged through a long, lonely desert. Whatever lay ahead for them, individually and together, was buried deep, for the moment, in the recesses of their minds that held out hope for ecstasy. Reality was completely out of reach.
There would be time enough for expectations, for the world to have its say about what had happened between them. Time for regret, if it came, or embarrassment or shame, for that matter.
But that time was not now.
Josiah wanted to stay joined as one with Pearl for as long as he could, feel her welcoming warmth—take pleasure in her heavy breath, committing it solidly to memory in case he was ever sentenced, by himself or another, to that lonely desert again.
“I really have to go,” Josiah whispered.
Pearl opened her eyes and stared at him. They were face-to-face, Josiah gently on top of her, hesitating to move. She shook her head. “No.” Her arms around his waist, she pulled him tighter against her.
Josiah buried his face in her neck, tempted to stay longer, wanting nothing more than to add another moment to their night. He pulled back though. Pearl whimpered as he did, closing her eyes, looking away. Sadness was interrupting their world. It was hard telling what emotion would come next—from either one of them.
He stood up slowly.
Pearl lay naked on a quickly made heap of horse blankets, her hair sprawled out underneath her head, her body perfect. She was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. Even more so when she opened her eyes again—the sadness gone, replaced with need, begging him one last time to stay.
Josiah never wanted to forget how Pearl looked at the moment—longing for him to stay, to come back to her. The image would make the miles he had to travel a little easier, he thought.
“What if you never come back?” Pearl asked in a husky whisper.
Josiah exhaled deeply. “Then we’ll both be glad we had this night.”
“Don’t go.”
“I have to. Nobody I care about is safe as long as Liam O’Reilly is a free man. That includes you. He seems to have eyes everywhere.” Josiah found his long johns and began to put them on.
Pearl sat up, pulling straw from her hair, covering herself with one of the blankets.
The air was cool but not cold. Light was creeping its way into the barn, and Pearl glowed like a mythical creature, or Penelope on that last day before Odysseus set out for Troy.
Josiah’s mother had loved the Greek stories, and they had read them together when Josiah was in his early teens. He hadn’t thought about that for a long time, and the memory made him warm and glad that he had a comparison to make, a story to latch on to, though that journey was a long one. Josiah hoped to return a lot sooner than his fictional counterpart.
“Can’t you leave that man’s fate to Juan Carlos?” Pearl said.
“Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Juan Carlos is spry, wise, and skillful for his years, but I fear he’s no match for O’Reilly. Especially if he has already matched up with Cortina. That is a well-fortified hornet’s nest. Juan Carlos can’t go it alone. It would be suicide—and I would carry his death on my shoulders for the rest of my life and still have to look over my shoulder. And yours.”
Worry crossed Pearl’s face. “Juan Carlos has more ways about him than you’re aware of.”
Josiah chuckled. “More ways than I want to know. Is it a family trait? These hidden skills?”
Pearl’s face reddened with blush. “Perhaps. I have my own secrets.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Please reconsider, Josiah.” Pearl said, her face and tone serious.
“McNelly requested I go. I have to.”
“McNelly?”
Josiah found his socks and pants and nodded his head yes. “I’m not riding with the Frontier Battalion any longer. Pete Feders is no longer my captain. I’m not sure how that got arranged, but I am glad of it now.”
Pearl’s eyes grew narrow. She started to say something, then held her tongue.
Silence fell between them for a long moment. The robin drew closer, singing from the live oak just outside the door.
“I think it’s best.” Josiah slipped a suspender over his shoulder.
“You will be gone longer, farther away,” Pearl finally said.
“McNelly is at his ranch for the winter. This is a special assignment, one I would have leapt at if it hadn’t come my way with the release from the Battalion. We have to stop O’Reilly.”
“He feels the same about you.” Pearl stood for a long second, her search for clothes stopped, as she let the blanket fall away. It was one last sly attempt to derail Josiah’s departure. But it was, regrettably, too late for that.
“You’re sure a sight to behold,” Josiah said.
“I won’t ask you to stay again. Not this time.”
Josiah looked away. “I would stay if I could. There would be too many complications. Too many lives left at risk.”
Pearl walked to him then and slid her arms around his waist. “Promise me you’ll come back.”
“I will do everything in my power to make it back here. There’s nothing more I’d like than to see you in a proper bed.”
“Being improper?” A smile curled across Pearl’s lips.
Josiah didn’t answer her. He kissed her deeply, closed his eyes, and let himself reenter their special world one last time.
Josiah didn’t look back as he left. He knew Pearl would be standing in the shadows watching him go, her eyes still begging him to stay. He didn’t want to see that or take the risk of being seen.
He had eased Clipper out the back of the barn, taking an unseen exit from the Fikes estate.
The sun was nearly up over the horizon, and every man and woman who worked in the mansion was already up, or would be soon. The day had begun, and though he had gotten hardly any sleep, just a doze now and then, afraid he would miss one second of being with Pearl, Josiah felt invigorated, and oddly at peace with how the whole night had turned out.
