Max glanced at her, a worried expression on his face. “Sorry, gentlemen, but I promised my wife we'd get home early.” He glanced at one of the men. “James, I'd like to talk more about the idea of a sugar co-op. Maybe you and your lovely wife could come to dinner sometime.” He smiled at Nicole. “I'll let the ladies handle the arrangements.”

  “We'd enjoy coming out to Rosewood. It's been years since I've been out there. Until then, the Prudommes are having a party to announce the engagement of their daughter. I'll see if I can get you an invitation,” the man said, nodding in Nicole's direction.

  “Thanks,” Max said, and waved good-bye.

  After they walked away, Nicole frowned. “Why do you want to meet with James and talk about a sugar co-op?”

  “We could save a lot of money if we all went together and had our sugar processed at one central mill,” he said, helping her up into the buggy. “Though I won't be here for the next crop, your new overseer could take care of it.”

  She watched him walk around the buggy and climb in to take the reins. He released the brake, and with a snap of the reins the buggy began to roll. But the worry of how drawn in Max was with the plantation wouldn't leave her. “You seem so involved for a man who's only going to be here several months.”

  “I told you, I don't do anything without putting my all into it. I just can't.”

  She hoped that was all he meant by taking care of everything so well. After the baby was born, she didn't want to have to fight Max to persuade him to leave.

  “Are we going to this engagement party?” she asked.

  “Do you want to go?”

  She thought for a moment, part of her longing to be involved in the community, yet so afraid of their not accepting her. But she needed to get over this fear. “Yes, I'd like to go.”

  “Well if we receive an invitation, we'll go,” Max said.

  The buggy rolled along the dirt road, the frogs calling back and forth to each other near the river, the cicadas singing their song of loneliness in the dark.

  Nicole sat and contemplated the night, thinking about the dancing, Max's kiss, and the way his mouth left her trembling, wanting more, knowing she shouldn't dwell on his kiss. She glanced at his lips in the darkness. How could the pressing of lips together make you feel so good?

  Overall, the night had been fun, with the only tarnished spot of the evening, the loss of her temper. She wondered how Max would react to the news of her retribution.

  “I did something tonight that wasn't very nice,” she said. “I didn't act very queenly.”

  He glanced at her, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

  “When I went to the privy, I overheard a group of women talking about me, and, well, I tossed the contents of the slop bucket at them.”

  For a moment Max simply stared at her, stunned, and Nicole was afraid he thought her a terrible person. She'd let him down and suddenly she didn't want him to be disappointed in her.

  When had he become so important in her life that his opinion mattered?

  He burst out laughing. “You threw a full slop bucket at a group of women who were talking badly about you?”

  “Well, they said terrible things about my mother and I couldn't take it anymore. I'm tired of people thinking that my misfortune is something for them to talk and laugh about. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, but I couldn't stand by and do nothing any longer.”

  For a moment, Max didn't say anything and Nicole wondered what he could be thinking. Then he chuckled softly. “Well, remind me not to talk about you while you're in the privy. I certainly don't want the contents of a slop bucket thrown at me.”

  For several minutes they rode along in silence, Max's attention focused on the murky river road. At night, the darkness seemed to go on forever, though Nicole knew the river lay not far to the left. If you listened closely sometimes you could hear the sound of the water lapping against the bank or gurgling on its way to the gulf.

  She yawned and squirmed on the seat, trying to get comfortable, her back aching, and her mind unable to concentrate as their kiss kept intruding into her thoughts. Whatever had possessed the man to kiss her with such flagrant disregard to their agreement?

  She watched him handling the reins of the buggy, the memory of his hands on her back, moving against her, pressing her closer etched like a photograph in her brain.

  “Why did you kiss me tonight?” she asked him, the words seeming to slip out before she could restrain them.

  He glanced at her and she watched his Adam's apple bobble in his throat. “Because I wanted to.”

  “But why?” she asked. “You know as well as I that there's no point in any romantic involvement between us.”

  “I kissed you because we were dancing beneath the moon while the stars twinkled in the night sky. I had a beautiful woman in my arms and the opportunity just seemed right. I kissed you because I wanted to and if the mood strikes me, I may do so again.”

  She gasped, his words leaving her aching with the memory. “You're serious.”

  “Yes. I am. If I get the urge and you're in my arms, why not? We are married,” he said, glancing over at her, his voice low and sensual.

  “I don't think that's very wise,” she said, the thought making her nervous. She liked the feel of his lips way too much.

  “I don't care whether it's wise, Mrs. Viel. Only that it feels right, and good, and I want to.”

  Nicole sat back, stunned at his response, and watched the road to the plantation, very aware of the man sitting next to her.

  “I think I should stay out of your arms,” she said, knowing it could only lead to trouble.

  “Not if I can help it,” he replied, never turning to look at her, his eyes focused on the road, his voice full of conviction.

  A shiver went through her and she realized part of her could hardly wait to feel his lips on hers once again

  Chapter Eight

  The dream seemed so real as Nicole watched Jean move toward her, laughing. She moaned and clutched at her abdomen, trying to hold onto her baby, even as her dead husband approached. He wanted the child. In her nightmare, blood trickled down her legs, and she woke with a start. The cramp tore at her again and she gasped, holding her breath until the pain passed.

  Darkness surrounded her. All was quiet except for the sound of her breathing as she lay very still, hoping the pain had been part of her dream. Within five minutes, a cramp seized her again, tightening her abdomen until she wanted to scream. She panted, hoping it would soon pass, fearing what this meant.

  Once the throbbing passed, she lay resting, praying that something she ate had upset her stomach, fearing this was the baby. It couldn't be the baby. Dear God, she'd been so careful since the scare in New Orleans, resting and taking care of herself, spending lots of time with her feet up. Except for the dancing she'd done tonight, but that was only three dances.

  Again, pain snatched her breath away and left her hanging on as it ripped through her body and came at her once more. This couldn't be happening. Please, she didn't want to lose her baby. She wanted this child. The pains were coming faster and harder now, wrenching her in two, and drenching her in sweat.

  When the next spell passed, she stood and went to the door. Dressed in only her nightgown, knowing she didn't have time to make it to Consuelo's room or even put on a dressing gown, she crossed the main parlor. She clutched her belly, in her long white nightgown, her bare feet treading hurriedly to Max's room. She knocked on his door and then entered before he replied. Panic swelled within her as she knew another pain would soon be upon her.

  “Max!” she called, trying to wake him.

  He sat up in bed. “What's wrong?”

  Tears filled her throat, the fear she'd held at bay overwhelmed her, and she sobbed. “I think I'm losing the baby.”

  The throbbing began to come at her again, building until it consumed her, wringing a gasp from her lips as she doubled over, cramping. Max jumped out of bed dressed in only his underclothes and hurried to her side. He wrapped his strong arm around her and she leaned against him, his body absorbing her weight.

  “Oh, Nicole,” he said in a whisper, holding onto her until the pain subsided. “Let me help you to your room and then I'll send someone for the doctor. I'll awaken Consuelo, and we'll take care of you.”

  “I don't want to lose this baby,” she cried against his shirt.

  “I know you don't. Try to remain calm. We'll do everything we can to help you,” he said, rubbing her back, holding her. He wrapped his arm around her waist as he helped her back to her room. Just as he got her into bed, another pain gripped her, holding her prisoner until she screamed. She clenched Max's hand until she felt certain she'd crushed the bones, but he said nothing.

  When the pain passed, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, his lips comforting though she barely noticed.

  “I'm going to wake Consuelo and send someone for the doctor, and then I'll be back.

  Nicole watched him hurry out her door, yelling for Consuelo once he reached the dining room.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she felt the first trickles of blood between her legs. All the love she'd formed with Jean was no more, including the baby they created.

  ***

  Max anxiously paced the main parlor, wanting to be by Nicole's side, wishing he could fix the situation and make her happy. She'd seemed so fragile, so broken when she'd come to his room. God, he'd never felt so scared in all his life as when she'd doubled over with pain. He'd been so afraid that she would die.

  After what seemed like hours, the doctor opened her bedroom door and walked slowly out into the hallway. He shook his head at Max. “She lost the baby.”

  Max sighed, all his fears realized, wishing he could spare her this pain. “Is she all right?”

  “Other than being very upset and tired, I think she'll be fine. I want her on complete bed rest for several days, and if she starts running a fever, send for me immediately,” the doctor said, rolling down his sleeves. “She's lost quite a bit of blood, but I don't think she's in any danger.”

  “Thanks for coming so quickly, Doc. I know we woke you early,” Max said, running a tired hand through his hair.

  The doctor picked up his hat and walked toward the door. “I'm used to it, Mr. Viel. Just make sure that your wife stays in bed and recuperates. She should be fine.”

  “Thanks again, Doc.”

  Max opened the door to the men's side of the house just as the first rays of dawn chased the night away, heralding a new day. He closed the portal behind the doctor and looked toward Nicole's room. She'd wanted this baby so badly.

  He couldn't imagine the heartache she must be feeling at this moment. She'd already suffered so much, but now, to lose the one thing in her life that she'd wanted more than anything...

  Slowly, Max made his way to Nicole's room, needing to reassure himself that she was all right. He knocked gently on the door, and Consuelo cracked open the portal.

  “How is she?” he whispered.

  “She's very upset, but she'll be all right,” Consuelo said, watching him closely. Either the older woman didn't trust him or she didn't like him. She always scrutinized him, and her searching eyes left Max nervous.

  “Can I see Nicole?” he asked, needing to be with her, be near her at this time, though he didn't understand why. In fact, he feared her first response would be to end their marriage—for the very reason she'd married him no longer existed. He didn't want their marriage to end. And he felt she needed him to give her comfort.

  Consuelo nodded. “I'll leave you two alone. Try not to upset her.”

  The older Spanish woman walked out of Nicole's bedroom, her face drawn and tired. When she left, Max shut the door behind him and slowly approached his wife's bed. She lay on her side curled in a ball, her eyes open but dry. She turned and saw him, her blue eyes glazed, and then turned her face back to the wall.

  “Please, go away,” she said, her voice quivering.

  He eased onto her bed and lay down beside her. She rolled toward him, her eyes questioning. He pulled her into his arms and held her. The feel of her body trembling in his embrace as he gently rubbed her back left him shaken to the core.

  For Nicole to let Max hold her, in her bed, he knew the extent of her pain must be unbearable. And he wanted to console her, to offer her solace in the only way he knew how, which was to simply hold her.

  Tears trickled down her cheeks, falling onto his shirt, but he didn't care. “I... I lost the baby.”

  “I know. I'm sorry, Nicole.”

  She sobbed and his heart ached for her. He grieved for her and the lost child. It didn't seem fair that she'd lost the child so soon after their marriage.

  While the sun slowly rose in the eastern sky, Max held Nicole, wishing there was something he could do to soothe her pain, knowing how much this baby had meant to her. He held her, conscious there were no words of comfort he could offer that would make her feel better. So he offered her a strong shoulder and soothing arms.

  Yet the entire time he embraced her, a sense of rightness of being where he belonged overcame him and he wanted to be her husband. Somehow he had to convince Nicole that they were meant to be man and wife. Maybe theirs would never be a love match, but they could live comfortably. They could have more children, raise their own family, and lead happy lives.

  She might not think much of him as a man, but if only she would give him a chance, he could show her how different their married life together could be. Particularly compared to her life with Jean. For Max promised himself to be a good and faithful husband to Nicole, which was more than she ever received from Jean.

  And he couldn't deny that the picture of his wife naked, her limbs entwined with his own, had entered his mind more times than he cared to be reminded of. Just the feel of her soft body pliant in his arms left him trembling. But those thoughts were better left for another day.

  As she finally floated off to sleep, cleaving to Max, he knew more than ever before that he was determined to make Nicole his wife in every sense of the word, and gain his family's home in the process.

  ***

  “Papa, I received a letter the other day from my mother,” Paul told Max later that day as they worked together in the barn.

  Max stopped currying the horse he cleaned and glanced at his son, frowning. “How did she find out where you were?”

  “Grandfather forwarded me her letter. She came around several times, trying to find out where I was, but he didn't tell her.” Paul paused for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. “She wants me to come home.”

  “Do you want to go back, Son?” Max asked, thinking how much he'd enjoyed being with his boy and how difficult it would be to let him return to his mother.

  Paul considered his father's question, his brown eyes serious. “I like living with you, but I'm worried about Mother. I don't want anything bad to happen to her or my brothers and sisters.”

  “I'm glad you like living with me and I'd like for you to stay,” he told his son, feeling relieved that Paul didn't appear anxious to return. Max knew it would be hard to let the boy return to Desiree. He wanted his son with him.

  “What do you think could happen?”

  “I don't know. In the letter, she kept telling me how much she depended on me. I was the only child that she could count on. What's going to happen to her?”

  “Your mother is an adult. She'll be all right,” Max said, thinking that he wished there was something he could do to protect the other children from their mother's neglect.

  Max picked up the comb and began to curry the horse once again, reflecting how he could help his son, knowing full well that Desiree would use the boy's soft heart to lure him back. It wasn't the boy she wanted so much as the money that Max sent her to care for him.

  “Did she mention whether or not her new man was still around?” he asked. “It seems to me that she didn't care that you were gone when he was there.”

  The boy shrugged. “She said that he turned out like all the others. Why can't my mother find a man who wants to stay with her?”

  Max knew he didn't want to answer that question. No matter what, Paul loved Desiree, though he had yet to learn how his mother liked to manipulate a man to obtain what she wanted. It would be better for the boy to reach his own conclusions regarding his mother's behavior, when he was older.

  “Your mother has followed a difficult path in life. Part of growing up is learning to make good decisions, something that I hope you will learn to do,” Max told Paul, hoping he was vague enough that his son could realize on his own that Desiree hadn't made wise decisions. “If you decide to return to your mother, I'll take you,” he said, wishing the boy would stay here with him.

  Paul watched Max comb the palomino until the animal's coat glistened in the sunlight. “I'm not ready to go back to Mother. I like living on the plantation and I want to stay here longer with you. But I worry about the kids.”

  Max nodded, realizing that the boy hadn't said he would never go back to his mother, only that for the moment he needed more time to make his decision. And that was all right. The longer he stayed here, the more Max hoped to influence his son and help him realize that the best opportunities for him were with his father.

  “It's okay to worry about them, but they're your mother's responsibility. So don't feel guilty for doing what's best for you.” He glanced at his son, noticing for the first time the changes in his body. The boy seemed to have grown a couple of inches since he'd arrived at the plantation. Three good meals a day and the country air seemed to be agreeing with him. Max felt a rush of pride in his son.

  He didn't want to send him back to a home where the mother stayed out all night and slept all day, while her eldest child cared for her children. Where new gentlemen friends never lasted more than a month and sometimes only a night. But she was the mother of his son.

  “School hasn't started yet; could we wait until closer to September before I give you my answer?” the boy asked his father.

 

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