in the middle of tumult. It soothed him as much as it excited him. His last coherent thought before he climaxed was that perhaps he should reserve the hotel rooms on either side of them. Thank God his quarters at Fort Laramie were freestanding, and he shared no walls with anyone.
She came right after him, and her sigh went right to his heart. She kissed his lips so gently then, her legs tight around him, her hands, sweaty now, still caressing his back. He didn’t move for a while, but raised up on his elbows to allow some lung expansion. She made no move to release him, so they stayed as they were until his eyes started to droop. He fought it; the last thing he wanted to do was sleep right now, even though biology made men so susceptible.
It was her turn to say something incoherent when he finally moved—easy enough, because her legs felt boneless. Totally content, he lay beside her, knowing he should tidy himself up a bit, but not inclined to that much exertion.
He discovered Suzie was more practical. She sat up. After a massive stretch that reminded him of a cat, she padded to the washstand and the pitcher of water the management had thoughtfully provided. He admired her backside and the marvelous slope from her shoulders to her waist. As he watched, interested, she took care of herself, and returned to bed with a warm cloth for him. He reached for it, but she did the honors.
“You’re going to spoil me.”
“No. We’ll take turns. Women can vote here, you know, and I intend to.”
He growled, grabbed her and held her in a bear hug. “That makes absolutely no sense.”
“I don’t care, Joe,” she said. “Maybe I just want you to know from the start that this is a partnership.”
“That does make sense,” he agreed. “How about you just make yourself comfortable. Oh, yes, like that.”
Suzie pillowed her head on his chest and put her leg over him. Both his arms were around her. He knew from experience that he’d have to shift eventually before his arms grew numb, but that was a while off, and he loved the feel of her bare body against his. He figured one of the mysteries of science was how soft women’s bodies were, compared to men.
“Satisfied?” she asked.
“Need you ask? I’ve exceeded the legal limit of satisfaction. You’re, uh, inspiring.” He kissed her sweaty head. “My bed’s not very comfortable at home, but we’re probably stuck with it until we change duty stations.”
“Or go to Paris.”
He smiled in the dark. “You married me because you want to travel,” he teased.
Her response was so serious that he almost felt a chill. “I married you because I love you. I don’t even know when it happened.”
He thought about his own epiphany. “I was watching you jump rope, and I wanted to jump with you. Silly, yes, but I knew.”
She said his name so softly. He knew she felt safe with him, which aroused every protective instinct in his generous nature. This was a wife to treasure, just as M’liss had been.
Susanna was silent for a long moment. He knew she wasn’t asleep, because he felt her eyelashes opening and closing against his chest.
“Yes, my lovely Suzie?” he asked finally.
“I’ll try not to, but … but I usually end up crying myself to sleep or crying myself awake. I think of Tommy, and that’s what I do. Now I don’t know where he is, and I can’t seem to help myself.”
Joe felt her tears on his chest and he held her close. “I understand. I’ll let you in on a secret—I cried myself to sleep for a long time after Melissa died. Tears don’t scare me. I’ve seen plenty.”
Her tears stopped in a few moments. She sat up, looking down on him. He scarcely breathed as she touched his face, outlining his nose and lips, her finger ending at his throat. She pressed her hand against his chest, as if checking him for soundness; maybe she was. She felt his stomach, lingered over his genitals, and ran her hands down his legs. He laughed when she tickled his foot.
“I’ll be a good wife. I can’t be Melissa, but I’ll be a good wife,” she said simply.
Tears started in his eyes then, and it wasn’t from sorrow or wishing Melissa back. It was from the absolute certainty that he was the most fortunate man who had ever lived. He wanted to tell