“Was I too hard on her?” He studied her face.
“No, she was fine when you left.” She sat up, with a glint in her eyes. “She seemed to be more interested in commenting on your looks.”
“Really?” Nate grinned. “And exactly what did she say?”
“Oh, she thinks you’re handsome.”
“And do you agree with her opinion?” He smiled lazily, played with the loose ends of her hair.
“Well, I would say you’re not exactly hard on the eyes.”
Nate cupped the back of her neck. Lowering his mouth, he whispered against her lips, “But I’m incredibly hard somewhere else.” He brushed his lips back and forth over hers. “Open for me, honey.”
The kiss grew from easy and gentle to desperate as their tongues tangled. Nate slanted her head to deepen the kiss. He scattered her hairpins, and ran his hands through the silky strands of her glorious hair.
“Open your dress,” he murmured. Angel fumbled with the buttons, but finally got them undone. Nate gripped her shoulders, and slid the dress and chemise down her slim arms to bare her breasts. Her nipples were erect, aching to be suckled.
“You’re so beautiful.” He gently took her breasts in his hands. Reverently, he kissed and then teased the pert nipples.
“Nate.” Angel gasped. “We have no bed.”
He groaned and rested his forehead on hers. “I forgot.” Nate half-heartedly closed the dress and buttoned it. Then he pulled her head to his chest.
The lack of a private place to lay his wife down and make love to her irritated him. He loved the way she responded to his touch. He only had to kiss her, or in some cases, look at her a certain way, and she seemed to melt. Familiar with the type of wife who only tolerated her husband’s attentions, he blessed his lucky stars for Angel. He loved watching her, so prim and proper in church, knowing in the privacy of their bedroom, it didn’t take much for him to turn her into a passionate and responsive lover.
Angel glanced out the window over the sink as she washed the breakfast dishes. Halfway from the house to the barn, Sylvia attempted to hang the family’s newly washed laundry. As she hung one piece, another fell to the ground. Angel covered her mouth and giggled.
True to her word, Sylvia tried hard to not be a burden to Angel. That she wasn’t successful didn’t deter her from trying. When she attempted to change Julia-Rose’s diaper, she gagged so much Angel had to take over and send the poor woman out the back door to the fresh air.
Sylvia offered to pack school lunches for the boys, but they raced for the pantry when they came home, exclaiming they were starving after eating only those tiny jam sandwiches for lunch. To add to the drama, Luke and John rolled on the floor, holding their stomachs, moaning. Watching the display of misery, Sylvia merely sniffed and said she had no idea little boys ate so much.
The laundry itched like crazy from un-rinsed soap, and a whole day’s worth of eggs landed on the floor when Sylvia took the basket from Luke, only to drop it when a bug crawled out from between two eggs.
Angel sent her to town to buy bread, and she came back with a lovely scrap of a hat, and no bread. She apologized profusely, and was adamant that she would sell a piece of jewelry that Angel’s papa had given her so she could repay her for the hat. Later, in a burst of guilt, she admitted she’d already sold the last of her jewelry.
She dropped dishes while washing and drying them, and stumbled out the back door screaming when she came face to face with Matt’s pet mouse.
Nate came into the bedroom and sat alongside Angel. “Darlin’, if your stepmother doesn’t stop helping us, we’ll go broke.”
Angel sighed. “I know, but she’s trying. She’s so out of her element. But it’s actually nice having another woman to talk to when you are all gone during the day.”
“Do me a favor and keep her away from my clothes. The shirt I wore today caused the worst rash from dried soap.”
“Oh, poor man, can I help with your rash?” Angel said with mischief in her eyes.
“As a matter of fact,” he said as he pulled his undershirt over his head, “you can kiss all the parts that are red.” His fingers lowered to unbuckle his pants.
“Um, if your shirt caused the problems you want me to kiss away, why are you taking off your pants?”
“The rash has spread, darlin’,” he said as he bent his head toward hers. “It spread something awful.”
Lucy placed the heavy silver fork alongside her plate, and tapped the back of the newspaper her father held in front of his face.
“Papa.”
“Um.”
“I want to ask you something.”