A Bride for Frank, page 5
“Uh, Frank. What are you doing?”
“I’m getting ready for bed. Why aren’t you? I thought we’d talked about this in the barn. Was I mistaken?” He walked over to her. “Maisie? Talk to me.”
“I told you about my husband and that I was ready to kill him. It’s because he took me whenever he wanted and beat me into submission if I wasn’t in the mood, which was all the time.”
“I know but I thought you understood, I would never treat you like that. Ever. I will never raise my hand against you. Never, Maisie. Never.” He took her hand in his. “You’re cold and you’re shaking. I’ll leave my clothes on and just hold you tonight. Okay?”
She never expected him to offer to hold her. How long had it been since anyone had held her, just held her without wanting something more? She looked up at him and saw a soft expression on his face. “You’ll really just hold me? You don’t want to bed me?”
“I told you before, of course, I want to bed you. You’re a beautiful woman and you’re my wife. I hope to make love to you every day for the rest of our lives, but I don’t want to if you’re not willing.” He furrowed his brows, forming wrinkles between his eyes. “I’m not a monster.”
She shivered. “He was a monster. You’re right, you’re not. I’m sorry, I can’t get over my fear easily, despite your kindness.”
“I understand. Tonight, I’ll just hold you, if that’s all right.”
She slowly nodded. “I haven’t been just held for a long time, maybe never. I would like to be held without any more expected of me.”
He smiled. “Then that’s what you shall have. Though, I think you should get into your nightgown and be comfortable.”
She took a deep breath. “You should be comfortable, too.” She lowered her gaze. “Thank you, Frank. You don’t have to treat me so well.” It would make what I have to do much easier if you weren’t nice.
“You can trust me, Maisie. I’m not your dead husband. No man, no real man, would ever treat you like he did. Not ever.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded. It was the first time a man had actually said what happened to her was wrong, who had agreed with her and she believed would stand up for her.
He unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and then slid them off so he stood before her only in his small clothes. Then he crawled under the blanket and turned over so his back was to her.
She realized he was giving her privacy to undress. Maisie unbuttoned her dress and let it pool around her feet, then removed her corset and chemise before putting on her nightgown. “You can look now.”
Frank turned over. “You’re a beautiful woman, Maisie, even in your old nightgown. I should buy you another one, but I’m hoping that when you get used to me, you won’t want to wear one. But I’ll leave that up to you. If you want a new one, we’ll get you one when we go back to town on Saturday.”
Every time he was nice, she felt tears threaten. She hated that, hated feeling so vulnerable and so affected by his kindness.
She crawled under the covers and, for a minute, just lay there on her back staring at the ceiling. Then she looked over at Frank. He had his arm stretched out toward her over the top of the pillows. She knew he wouldn’t say anything. Cuddling, letting him hold her, had to be her idea. She had to make the first move.
Taking a deep breath, she scooted next to him.
He wrapped his arm around her, hugging her close. “This is nice. You can relax, Maisie. I like my woman awake and wanting me as much as I want her. I won’t attempt to make love to you while you sleep.”
She scooted closer and placed a hand over his chest as she burrowed into his side. The sparse hair on his chest curled around her fingers. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. That makes this perfect.” Could she really trust him? She believed she could. So far, he hadn’t hurt her or tried to force her into anything she wasn’t willing to do. Those were major points in his favor, in her book. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll be willing to consummate our marriage. Who knows?
Chapter Five
As Maisie did the evening milking, she decided she wanted very much to have Frank make love to her. Lottie assured her there was no pain, only a lot of pleasure in real love making. Maisie wondered how that could be and what was so different between the Campbells and her dead husband? Finally, on the third night of her marriage, she decided she would allow it and find out for herself. If Frank was like Donald, she’d find a way to kill him. She didn’t care if she went to jail or was hanged for it. No one would treat her that way again.
That night started as the previous two nights had, with Frank undressing down to his underdrawers and then turning over to give Maisie the privacy she needed.
Tonight, when he turned over, she quickly removed all her clothes and climbed into bed.
“You can look now.” She held the blankets under her arms, which were straight at her sides. Her heart pounded in her chest and her pulse raced as she waited for him to notice.
He turned over and cocked an eyebrow. “Maisie? Are you naked under those blankets?”
She closed her eyes and nodded. Then she looked at him, wondering if she was making a colossal mistake but vowing to somehow get through it. “Yes. I’m ready to have relations.”
He stood and removed his underdrawers.
She closed her eyes until she felt the bed shift again with his weight. Then she opened them to find Frank’s face just above her shoulder.
She startled. “Don’t do that. You scared me. I nearly screamed, and that would have led to a lot of questions I’d rather not answer.”
He smiled. “I’m sorry.” He ran a hand down her arm lightly tapping his fingers as he went. “I’m just so surprised you are willing to consummate our vows.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide, and then glanced away. “Thank you for giving me the time I needed to get used to the idea.”
“May I kiss you, Maisie?”
Her heart pounded, and she was having a hard time breathing without panting. “You may.”
Frank lowered his head toward hers.
Her eyes slipped closed, and she waited for his kiss. She so wanted for this experience to be different than what she’d experienced before.
“Look at me, Maisie. I won’t hurt you but I want you to see me when I kiss you, not him. I want you to know who I am.”
She swallowed hard and gave him a single nod.
He lowered his head toward her.
Then he was there, taking her lips in a sweet, tender kiss. His lips were at once soft and firm. His touch light, as though he was afraid of hurting her even with his kiss.
She ran her fingers through his hair and then placed her arms around his neck. Pressing her lips harder against his, her tongue darted out, and she ran it along his mouth until she met his tongue.
Then he was the only one in charge of the kiss. He delved into her mouth, tasting, dueling, loving her with no more than his mouth.
She started to close her eyes.
He pulled back. “Look at me, Maisie Campbell. Who am I?”
“Frank.” She smiled. “You’re always Frank.”
Grinning, he nodded. He rolled her under him and, keeping most of his weight off of her body with his arms, he looked at her. “That’s right. Don’t ever forget who has you. Me. It will always be me.” He took her lips again, not giving her any opportunity to respond. Then he loved her, completely.
She’d never known how beautiful lovemaking could be until now. Tears filled her eyes. Tears for all the years of hate, for she knew now that her former husband had hated her. He never once had actually made love to her, but suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. Donald was gone to hell, and she was here with Frank in heaven, and that was all that mattered. All that was real. But she still didn’t want to give up her independence to a man, not even Frank. Once she paid off Deputy Slade, she’d be free. Free for the first time in her life. Free to make her own decisions, her own choices. Free to live…really live…her life.
Two months later
* * *
Maisie headed out to the barn at about four o’clock in the morning, carrying a bucket with a wet towel in it and a lantern. It was her week to milk the cows. She and the other women had decided to change chores on a weekly basis, rather than every day. It was so much easier than having to remember what she was supposed to do each day.
She pulled open the small barn door and grabbed the milking stool, carrying it to the cow in the next-to-the-last stall on the left side. The last stall had hay and straw in it for feeding the horses and mucking the stalls.
She set down the lantern and buckets, then set the stool to the left side of Bessie, the first of the three cows to be milked. She sat, and then patted the cow. “Good morning, Bessie. How are you, old girl?”
The cow mooed in response.
Maisie chuckled. “Talking to me this morning, are ye?” she asked in her best Irish brogue.
Cats and kittens of all sizes and ages came running. The straw crunched under the onslaught of felines. Each one hoping to get squirted and then to get some of the milk in the pie tins she always filled for them first. Some of the littlest kittens stood in the pie tin and hissed at anyone else who tried to drink.
An old mama cat, swatted the youngster out of the tin and began to drink.
Maisie then cleaned the udders with the towel from the bucket she’d carried down. After she was done, she laid the damp towel on the ground next to her and started milking Bessie. With a teat in each hand, squirting the meowing cats and kittens and humming while she completed her chore.
“Are you always this happy so early in the morning?”
The raspy drawl behind her could only belong to one man. Deputy Roy Slade. She stopped milking, sat straighter and shifted around enough to see him in the stall behind her. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She knew this man was a murderer and could kill her now without anyone knowing since she was the only one up.
Maisie did her best to remain calm. With her hands shaking so badly, she grabbed folds of her dress to hide the shaking. “How long have you been waiting, Roy?”
“Too long. I want the money, Maisie.” He came around from the last stall and stood beside her.
She looked up at him. “I don’t have it. I haven’t exactly had a moment alone. I’m married now and I have responsibilities and chores around the ranch.”
He took her chin with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand and lifted it until she looked at him. “I want it now, Maisie. I’m tired of waiting.”
She clasped her hands together, still to keep them from shaking, but she looked more in control. “I told you I don’t have it. I haven’t gotten it yet. Since I got out, I’ve been kind of busy getting married and everything.”
He squeezed her chin. “Well, you’re gonna get it. You got three days, then I’ll be back, and you better have the money if you want Lottie to remain unharmed, and that’s what you want, isn’t it, Maisie? You want me to leave Lottie alone, right? Then get my money.”
Maisie pulled her chin away from him. “Hurting Lottie won’t get you anything but an enemy. You’ll never get the money…ever, if you touch her. Remember that.”
He pulled her to her feet by the long braid that went down her back to her waist.
She lashed out as she remembered that Donald used to drag her to the bedroom by her hair. “Don’t touch me.”
He let her go. “You remember that I don’t like to be lied to, so you get that money, or face the consequences. Maybe I’ll have you like Donald did. Then you’ll remember me.” He stepped closer.
She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes, her hands in fists. “If you lay so much as a hand on me, I’ll scream so loud, every man on this ranch will come running and you’ll never get off this ranch alive.”
He started to turn away, but stopped and turned back toward her, his eyes narrowed and his mouth in a frown. “Three days. I’ll be back here to check on you and get my money. If you’re not here, you better be in Flagstaff at this location with the money. I’ll be there in five days.” He handed her a piece of paper, turned and started toward the back of the barn.
“Wait.” She called after him. “Why Flagstaff?”
He turned back toward her. “I’m leaving Prescott. The sheriff’s getting suspicious of some of my side dealings.”
“All right. I’ll get your money, then you’ll leave me alone…forever.”
She closed her eyes and clamped her lips together to keep her teeth from chattering like she was cold. But she was cold and it had nothing to do with the temperature, which was warm even for early morning in July. She would have to leave soon…sooner than she was ready to. She pressed the heels of her palms to her closed eyes. What was she doing? If she didn’t pay him, he would hurt Lottie.
If she went to Flagstaff, she’d have two hundred dollars to start over with, but she’d always wonder if she was giving up on her marriage because she was scared she’d fail. And if she stayed, what would have happened with her marriage to Frank? Would they have a good marriage with children? What if she couldn’t have children? She never had any with Donald in seven years. He said it was her fault. Was it? So many questions and no answers to any of them.
One thing she did know…she was falling in love with her husband. The reality scared her to death. Maisie knew if she didn’t leave now to get the money and pay Slade she would put Lottie in danger and she couldn’t do that, regardless of the cost to herself.
And she still wondered about Frank. It didn’t matter that he seemed to be a good man. Donald had been, too, for the first few months. Then, he’d turned mean and she truly knew what evil looked like…she could put a name to it. Donald Kunkle.
He was dead, but the lessons he taught had been well learned.
She had to get the money, pay Slade and leave with the rest. If she didn’t, Slade would blackmail her forever.
Maisie had three days. Slade had given her three days.
The following night, at milking time, rather than milk the cows, she saddled Daisy and rode away. She figured she had maybe a thirty-minute head start before someone came looking. Then Frank would be after her.
She headed straight for the old cabin Fiona had grown up in. That was where they stashed the money and she had stashed the map with the money. She was lucky when she’d found the map among Donald’s things. She was cleaning everything of his out of their cabin. She didn’t want anything of his, but then she found the map in the bottom of a drawer
She galloped as long as she felt she could and not injure the horse. Then she settled into an easy lope which Daisy could keep up for a long time.
By the time she reached the cabin, she was tired of looking over her shoulder and just ran into the cabin with her saddlebags and got the canvas bag from the ledge in the fireplace. Fiona had taught them exactly where to step to cross the room without falling through the rotted floor. A large hole in the roof gave her enough light from the full moon to pull out ten packets and the map. She put the rest of the money back, carried her saddlebags to Daisy and tied them on.
She left as fast as she could, knowing Frank must be close behind her now. But she never expected to run into him sitting in the middle of the road.
Daisy reared.
Maisie had to hold on to the saddle horn to stay seated.
“Frank! What are you doing here?” She knew exactly what he was doing there but had to ask.
He rested his crossed wrists on the saddle horn. “Don’t play innocent. Were you just waiting to leave until I trusted you?”
She shook her head while tears threatened. “No. You don’t understand. I have no choice.”
The same moon that let her see to get the money, let her see the anger on his face now. “You always have a choice. You could have come to me with anything, instead you chose to steal a horse and come here. What are you planning to do now?”
She lifted her chin. “Nothing that concerns you.” Could I have come to you with anything? Would you have understood? I’ve always wanted a man who was solid and protective. Is that you, Frank?
His face was a mixture of shadow and light. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth turned down. “Everything about you concerns me. I could force you to tell me.”
Maisie’s heart started pounding and she wanted to ride away into the night and forget about Frank Campbell. She guessed men were all the same after all, with only nuances of difference. She’d truly thought Frank was different. It hurt to find out she was wrong. “The fact that you would even suggest force convinces me the only difference between you and Donald is you use your words rather than your fists, but the result is the same.”
He straightened in the saddle like someone had hit him. “How can you say that? I would never hit you.”
She dropped her chin and stared at him. Then she shook her head in disgust. “No, you’re even more insidious. You led me to believe in you. Believe you’re different, but you still want to take my freedom. Take my choices from me. You want to own me, and I won’t be owned. How will you force me, if not physically?”
“You’re married. What kind of independence do you seek? You want out of the marriage? Campbells don’t divorce, so what is it you’re seeking, Maisie?”
Her shoulders sagged. “I don’t know to be honest. I was going to just leave things be. You were being so nice, I thought maybe we had a chance, that we could have a happy life. Then, yesterday morning, someone I’d hoped never to see again was waiting in the barn when I went out to do the milking.” She took several deep breaths. “He said he’d hurt Lottie if I didn’t give him blackmail money.”
Frank narrowed his eyes. “What are you paying him for? Where’s the money?”
She crossed her arms and leaned on her saddle horn. “You might as well know. Donald was killed in a robbery, but I found out he took out a large loan from some very bad people. The sheriff’s deputy works for them and he’s the one who killed Donald. That I didn’t mind, but he said if I didn’t pay the $800 Donald owed, he’d kill me and if that threat didn’t work, he’d hurt Lottie. I didn’t have any way other than the bank robbery to save Lottie. I’d have done it then and will do anything now, for her. But if you ever were to tell her this, I would deny it and call you a liar. Just so you know.”
