Golden Chances (Jordan-Alexander Family 1)

In his own room, in his own bed, Reese slept with his arms around Joy’s sister.

* * *

Faith had found her niche, carved it out of her concern for Reese and the people of the Trail T. She did as she had always done. She made the huge ranch house a home. She gradually took over the role of taking care of Reese. She took care of the small details that made his life more comfortable. Each night, there was plenty of water in the stove reservoir. She made sure his cigar box was kept full, the ashtrays, empty. She filled the brandy decanter from the casks in the cellar, straightened his desk, kept the scuttle full of coal for the fire in his office. She waited up for him on the nights he worked late, ready to make him coffee or a late night snack, to listen, or to make his body sing with passion until the wee morning hours. Faith took her responsibilities as seriously as he did. She took care of the ones she loved. And she did it so subtly, so carefully, she didn’t realize Reese was aware of it. Until the morning almost five weeks after her arrival on the ranch. The morning she missed breakfast.

“Where’s Faith?” Reese asked, as he entered the dining room and took his place at one end of the table.

“She’s not feeling well.” Mary responded, “I took some hot tea up to your room earlier.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

“Faith said you were working, that I shouldn’t bother you. She said she’d be fine.” Mary’s reply was calm.

“She wasn’t ill last night.” Reese said. “What could be wrong with her? Unless…” He pushed back his chair and hurried out of the dining room. He took the stairs two at a time. He knocked once on the bedroom door before entering. “Faith? Are you ill? Should I send for the doctor?”

Faith was curled into a miserable ball in the center of the bed.

She rolled to one side to face him. There was a mark in the center of her bottom lip where her teeth had gripped it. “Oh, Reese, it’s nothing.”

Reese sat down on the bed beside her. “It must be something.” He smiled at her, “I’ve never known you to miss breakfast. Have you been sick? Vomiting?” He tried to keep the hopeful note out of his voice in deference to her misery.

Faith shook her head. Her eyes filled with tears.

Reese’s smile disappeared, along with his hopes. “Then what is it? You can tell me.”

“It’s my time.” She whispered, blushing furiously.

“What?”

“It’s my time,” she said a little louder. “Time for my monthly. It started this morning.”

“Oh.” It was all Reese could think to say. She wasn’t pregnant. He had failed. They had f

ailed.

“Reese,” Faith said softly, “I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble this morning.”

“It’s no trouble. I missed you at breakfast. I thought you might be…you know…” He faltered.

“What?”

“I thought you might be pregnant. Morning sickness is one of the symptoms. When you didn’t come down for breakfast and Mary said you were ill, I thought…” he explained.

Her face brightened, “I might still be.” She was hopeful.

At first, Reese thought she was joking, then he realized she really didn’t understand. “No, innocent, you can’t be.”

And he explained why.

She blushed again, even redder, this time, because she was so ignorant. She had heard these things whispered about her entire life, but being unmarried, she had been sheltered, kept from the realities of life. Until her mother had died giving birth to Joy.

Faith had accepted responsibility for Joy from the day she was born, but a doctor had delivered her and the wet nurse had fed her. “I’m sorry, Reese.”

Faith realized how disappointed he was. She wanted to be as disappointed, but a small part of her was secretly glad. The longer it took to conceive his child, the longer she would be able to share his life. Once, she conceived and delivered her child, she would be forced to live up to the terms of the contract. She would have to walk away from Reese and the baby, when all she wanted was to stay.

“I know how disappointed you must be.”

“It’s all right,” he told her, “We can try again as soon as you’re feeling better. These things take time, I guess.”