Trigger Suede?”
“Some do, the ones who have lived here for a long time. But most folks are newcomers and don’t know about my past.”
“What about your folks?”
“I hardly remember my pa. He was killed in an accident on our ranch when I was six. My ma tried to make a go of it, but she never took to the hard life out here, even when my pa was alive. When I was sixteen, she said we were leaving for a civilized place or she’d go insane.
“I’ve seen it happen to women before. Sometimes the land snatches away their joy in life. I didn’t want to be civilized, so I stayed here. My ma took off for San Francisco…I can’t blame her for it. She’s remarried and living the life of a fine lady, just like she always dreamed of. We write to each other now and then.”
“You’re a lucky man, Matt. You had your mother for a time. Even now you have her letters. I was raised by other people’s mothers.”
It was comfortable talking to Matt. Maybe their time together would pass pleasantly, in friendship. The ruckus down in town seemed to grow distant on this peaceful porch in the dead of night. Conversation and moonlight made everything feel right.
“I never knew my real ma or pa. I think I was born in New York. I showed up in a basket on some church steps. I was cared for by an older couple. They raised me for as long as they could, but in the end I wound up on an orphan train. I was seven then.”
While she spoke, Matt reached over and took her hand. He folded it inside both of his big, rough fists and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.
“I’m sure sorry about that,” he murmured.
“I got along. I’d go to a family and do what work I could in exchange for what shelter and affection they were able to give. I grew and changed families a few times before I was old enough to be on my own and get paid for the work I did.
“Now I’ve finally got a place of my own. With what I make on Orange Lilly I can sink in my roots and never have to move on again.” As long as Dr. Coonley continued producing patent medicine and the railroads continued delivering to Dodge, she ought to have a dependable income.
“Darlin’, I’m going to build you the finest house around. Those wandering days of yours are gone for good.” Matt stood. He kept hold of her hand and drew her up with him. Lands, if his touch wasn’t the most tender thing she’d ever felt. “I think it’s about time for us to head on up to bed.”
Lordy! There was only one bed in his room.
All the way up the steps to the second floor he kept hold of her hand. A lucky thing, too, since visions of what could happen on that one bed drained the strength right out of her legs. Blamed if she didn’t feel heat twisting in her secret places.
Once inside the room with the door closed, Emma shook herself. Not a thing was going to happen on the bed with Lucy curled in the middle of it.
Matt leaned into the circle of moonlight surrounding his daughter and kissed the top of her head. He straightened, then shot Emma a smile slanted in mischief.
“I’ll step into Red’s room if you need a moment to slip into your sleeping gown.” The hint of a dimple creasing his cheek told her that this was a challenge more than a genuine offer.
“I believe that dressing screen in the corner should provide all the modesty a married lady needs,” she said, and wondered if it would.
She stepped behind it and took off her dress and underclothes. In spite of her casual words, she didn’t feel at all modest. The shifting and twisting in her belly made her hope that he could see through the screen.
Mercy, with the way he was staring at it, maybe he could! Moonlight whispering through the window glanced off her naked skin. What stood in the way of making this marriage real, besides the child in the bed? Just her desire to live alone? She lifted her arms and let down her hair. She drew her fingers through it to make it loose and fluffy.
She thought she heard Matt gasp and peeked over the top of the screen. He’d plopped down on the edge of the