Chapter 10
After the book had been closed, and the boys asleep, Angel and Nate sat on the settee in the parlor. They held hands, staring at the dying flames in the fireplace. Nate rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand.
“What was Amy like?” Angel spoke softly.
“Why?”
She turned to him. “I don’t know. I guess I’m curious. I mean, I came after her.”
Nate shifted, settled his body in the corner of the settee, and tugged Angel so her back leaned against his chest. He ran his fingers up and down her arm. She closed her eyes as his deep voice rumbled through her body.
“Amy and her family moved here from Missouri. They came out on a wagon train, not too long before I arrived.”
Angel snuggled deeper, soothed by his voice and the motion of his hand.
“She had one sister, Natalie. Her parents were—actually, I assume they still are—devout Catholics. When Amy and I first met, I had recently gotten over a woman I’d never had a chance with. Amy was a pretty girl, quiet and shy. Her sister had died from measles shortly after they arrived in Oregon City, and Amy felt smothered by her parents’ attention. She also missed her sister something fierce. We spent a lot of time together, both of us trying to find what we’d lost.”
Angel looked over her shoulder to see him rub his hand across his forehead, and pinch the bridge of his nose. “Amy discovered she was pregnant. I don’t think either one of us felt ready to commit to marriage, but there it was. Needless to say, we had a quick wedding. Then seven months later Matt was born, quickly followed by Mark, Luke, John and Julia-Rose. Amy was nothing if not fertile.”
He chuckled. “Even though we had a mess of children, Amy never felt comfortable with my attentions. It was all a duty, she told me, which was what her mother had instilled in both her daughters.”
Angel listened without comment to the pain in Nate’s voice. She guessed a man didn’t appreciate hearing his love making represented a duty to his wife. She laid her head against his arm, rubbed her cheek on the soft cotton of his sleeve.
“We got along, though. She loved the boys, but never really got to know Julia-Rose. She didn’t recover well from her birth, and grew weaker and weaker until she finally died when Julia-Rose reached three months.”
Angel turned in his arms. “Why didn’t the boys recognize their grandparents when they came for a visit?”
Nate stared off into space for a moment. “I doubt Amy’s parents would have agreed to her marrying me if they weren’t panicked at catching us together.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not Catholic and that meant a lot to them. After Matt’s birth, they came for one visit, but during the visit she and Amy got into an argument, and she called Amy a whore. I told them to leave. I didn’t mean for them to never come back, but I guess that’s how they took it. I didn’t see them again until her funeral. Shortly after that visit, they moved to San Francisco.”
They sat silently for a while after Nate stopped talking. He continued to caress her arm. Even though recently introduced to lovemaking, Angel felt fortunate no one had ever told her it was a duty.
“It’s getting late.?
?? Nate reached for her as he stood. Hand in hand, they walked up the stairs to the bedroom. They undressed and got into bed. Nate pulled her over, settling her head on his chest. “As much as I would like a repeat performance, you’ll be much too sore.”
“I’m fine.” She gazed up at him.
“No.” He gave her a gentle kiss on her lips, and settled her head back to his chest. “Good night.”
Angel snuggled down and kissed him on his chest. “Good night,” she mumbled.
Even though sleepy, she couldn’t help but think about their lovemaking that afternoon. She smiled at how he’d faked a headache to get her into a hotel room. Not convinced the desk clerk believed him, she mentally shrugged.
Nate said it wasn’t always that good. Hopefully, it would be so every once in a while. Heat rose to her face at how much she’d enjoyed his attentions. She had never felt such things before. Poor Amy, to have been told it was all a duty. Still amazed at her wanton behavior that afternoon, Angel squirmed, trying to clear her mind for sleep.
“Honey, please don’t wiggle like that.” Nate groaned. “I’m having a hard enough time keeping my hands off you as it is.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, chagrined.
“No, don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. Go to sleep now.”
Still awake an hour later, Nate turned his thoughts to Amy and Angel. Amy came from poverty, was stubborn, rigid and harsh in her dealings with others. She’d been a good mother, making sure the boys had clean clothes and nourishing food, but withheld her affections. Her housekeeping skills had left no room for criticism, the house always clean, laundry done, the meals tasty and abundant. She preserved all the vegetables in the meticulous garden she’d kept, and turned the hundreds of apples from the trees in the yard into applesauce and pies.
Angel, on the other hand, had been raised with every advantage. Yet, she remained unspoiled, compassionate, and he could tell by the way she handled the boys that strictness and rigidity were not part of her nature. She oftentimes pulled them in for a hug and touched them a lot, always tickling the boys and kissing Julia-Rose. He chuckled to himself. On the other hand, her housekeeping skills were non-existent, although she certainly tried.