Restoring Hope Page 7

  The important thing was that he was finally away from Julia and her death stares. It amazed him that they came from the same parents. Was it his fault that he got married before she did? She didn’t have to forgo a proposal for his sake, but she had and she reminded him of it every chance she got. He really hoped the town was big enough so he wouldn’t have to deal with her more than the occasional run in or Sunday mornings at church...with the possible lunch at Aunt Erin’s place afterwards.

  He glanced around the sparse kitchen. Woape watched him, as if trying to gauge his reaction. Well, he wasn’t prepared for any of this, but he didn’t regret it so that counted for a lot. He smiled and she smiled back. That was good. At least she wasn’t upset with him. She seemed to be alright with her current living conditions. And she did have her new clothes again, so that was something else to be thankful for.

  “I’m going to need my hat back,” he told her and pointed to it.

  She reached up and he thought she was going to hand it to him, but she didn’t. “Hat,” she said.

  He nodded. “Hat.” He took another look around and motioned to the staircase. “Sleep.” Since he was holding his camping gear and their clothes, he had to rely on her to hold the kerosene lamp up as he went up the steps. As predicted, she followed him. He grinned. His shadow was still there. “Stairs,” he told her.

  “Stairs.”

  She was doing better at pronouncing words. He was surprised she was such a quick learner. That was good. The sooner he could figure out what she wanted, the better. He did hope that someday she’d be able to tell him why those three Indians wanted to kill her.

  For the time being, however, that knowledge would have to wait. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, he waited for her to join him. He peered into the two empty bedrooms and decided to take the bigger one. He set their things on the floor. There was nowhere to hang the clothes or a dresser to put them in, so he laid them neatly out the best he could.

  He wondered what she was accustomed to. Did this small wooden house match anything she grew up in? He knew some Indians had teepees, but some tribes used them more than others. It was a shame that his understanding of her culture was so slim. She had to have been a part of the Mandan, Hidatsa, or Arikara tribe. They were in the area he was heading for. That was about all he knew too. He thought he’d learn more once he reached Bismarck.

  He picked up the bedroll and smoothed it out on the floor. “Woape.” He paused, wondering if she’d understand what he was asking her. “Mandan, Hidatsa, Arikara?”

  “Woape. Mandan.” Then she pointed to him. “Gary. Waci.”

  Waci? That wasn’t the name of this town. “Sykeston.”

  She shook her head. “Waci.”

  He had no idea what she meant, and he was too worn out to care so he decided to pretend like he understood. “Waci.”

  She seemed pleased that he agreed with her, and it made him wonder if he should put forth more effort into figuring out what ‘waci’ meant. But then she set the kerosene lamp down and started to undress—a process which made him forget all about ‘waci’ and how tired he was.

  The moment seemed somewhat awkward since he hardly knew her, but he wouldn’t let that deter him from finishing what she’d tried to start last night. They were married, so he could do anything he wanted with her. Now that was an exciting thought.

  He quickly retrieved the blankets his aunt had given him and added it to the bedroll. There was no box stove in the room, and it was bound to get chilly during the night. He wasn’t chilly yet. He was too geared up and ready to go to care about the temperature of the room, but he reasoned that they’d be glad for the blankets once they finished consummating their marriage.

  Once he was done, he started to unbuckle his belt. He glanced at her and stopped. Last night had been such a blur, and he hadn’t taken the time to really look at her. But now he could...and so he did. She had wonderful curves, and he unwittingly recalled how her flesh felt beneath his hands. The light gave him an ample view of her front, making him wonder why she wasn’t embarrassed to be naked before him.

  She gave him his hat and he mutely took it. Then she gave a slight shiver before she settled under the blankets.

  Right. The bed. He definitely wanted to be there with her. He shrugged off his clothes, not bothering to see where they ended up, and joined her. The hardwood floor wasn’t very comfortable, but he hardly noticed. What got his attention was her warm and soft body. This was much better than last night. This time he knew exactly what was happening. He pulled her into his arms and smiled at her. He thought about extinguishing the light in the kerosene lamp, but he was enjoying the ability to see her too much to do that. Moonlight was fine, and there was enough of it drifting through the small window, but the light gave him a much better vantage point.

  His eyes drifted down to where her breasts pressed against his chest. He moved slightly back and let his fingers lightly touch them. Soft. Warm. Very nice. Well, maybe not nice. It was more like a thrill. If he had any idea of what it’d be like to lay next to a woman, he’d have considered marriage sooner. Oh well. Nothing could be done about that now.

  His gaze drifted up and he saw that she’d been staring at him, still studying his reaction. He brought his hand up and caressed her cheek. “Pretty,” he whispered.

  A smile formed on her lips.

  She really was a sweet person. He’d never come across anyone who was as eager to please him as she was. That was when he decided that he’d do whatever he could to be a good husband for her. He’d make her glad that she found him instead of someone else when she fled from those men. He lowered his head and kissed her.

  She responded to him and brought her hands up to his shoulders. She pulled him closer to her and tried to move under him. It suddenly occurred to him that she expected him to enter her immediately. Startled, he shifted back so she was next to him again. Granted that neither one of them had done this before, but he was sure the process didn’t have to be rushed, even if the male part of him was more than happy to oblige her. There was the other part of him that wanted to take his time and learn her, and that was the part he decided to go with.

  He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. She looked intrigued as he made a trail of kisses from her wrist down to her neck. He took a deep breath, aware of how lovely she smelled. She bathed every day, except for that day when she tried to run off. Thankfully, she came back with him.

  This time when he kissed her, he let his lips linger on hers. She gave a contented sigh and he traced her lower lip with his tongue. She opened her mouth for him, and he accepted her unspoken invitation. He wondered what it would be like to share an intimate kiss with a woman like this. He’d heard about such kissing from childhood friends but actually doing it was much better than talking about it. He moaned and deepened the kiss, enjoying the way she responded to him since it notified him that she liked this as well.

  As much as he wanted to keep kissing her, his curiosity got the best of him and so he removed the blanket. He took his time in exploring all her curves. He still couldn’t believe how soft she was to the touch. His hand stopped just below her right breast. In the light, he moved so he could see what was wrong. There was a scar an inch long. How did that get there?

  She opened her eyes and jerked away so he couldn’t figure out if it was from a knife or not. Before he could question her about it, she kissed him. The kiss seemed more insistent than it should have been, but he was too aroused to care. He thought about rolling on top of her, but the floor was rough and if anyone was going to get bruises from this, it was going to be him. He shifted onto his back and urged her to straddle him.

  When he entered her, he groaned. His hands guided her hips and he watched her as she moved. Once she developed a rhythm that brought him closer to the peak, he cupped her breasts in his hands and marveled at how the consummation of their marriage could bring him more pleasure than he’d ever known. His release came sooner than he wanted. He
had hoped to let the experience linger longer than it had, but he assured himself that there would be more times—many more, and so he let the moment consume him.

  After he regained coherent thought, he opened his eyes and smiled at her. She returned his smile and leaned forward to kiss him. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close. Yes, marriage was definitely turning out to be better than he thought it would be. Those poor single saps out there just didn’t know what they were missing. Well, now he knew and he had to admit that getting married was the best thing he’d ever done for himself.

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning, Gary wrapped a shawl around Woape’s shoulders. He knew she wanted to take a bath, but they needed to buy soap—among other necessities—before that would happen. The sunlight poured in through the parlor window and casted a halo around her head.

  He smiled and kissed her. “You look like an angel.”

  Of course, she didn’t know what he meant, but that was fine. In time, she would.

  He pulled her into his embrace and enjoyed the quiet peace the moment provided. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head. This was much better than roaming the countryside, looking for his next job.

  The thought of working reminded him that tomorrow he had to report to Edward Phillips the next day about building and repairing wagons. He didn’t know if he’d like it or not but figured since it was the only available job in the area, he couldn’t afford to be picky. He’d do whatever job he had to in order to keep Woape safe in a home with food on the table.

  Sighing, he released her. If it was up to him, he’d spend the rest of his life right there, just holding her and loving it. He grabbed his coat and hat and held his hand out to her. She accepted it, and they walked out the front door. He wasn’t used to having a woman by his side, but he liked having her next to him. This was the day where they’d make their house a home. The thought warmed his heart and he squeezed her hand. She gave him a shy smile in response.

  When they reached the furniture store, he let her select the table, chairs, armoire and bed that she wanted. He’d have to wait until he got paid to get anything else. As it was, he only had enough left over for food from the money he’d saved up over the past couple of years.

  As he searched through the general store with Woape, he wondered how much his aunt taught her in cooking. Did Indians cook the same way white women did? After they bought groceries and put them where they belonged in the kitchen, he took Woape to Aunt Erin’s house, already dreading the inevitable confrontation with Julia. His stomach tensed as he knocked on the front door. At least he could get out of there and return home with Woape when this was over.

  His aunt opened the door and hugged them. “It’s so good to see you again!” Then she waved them forward. “Come on in and have a seat.”

  He laughed. “You act like you haven’t seen us in months.”

  “Well, it’s just nice that you stopped by.” She motioned for Woape to sit on the couch in the parlor which Woape did.

  “Where’s Julia?” he asked in a low tone.

  “She’s at Patricia’s.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. So this would be a pleasant visit after all.

  She patted Woape’s hand and glanced at him. “You must be good to her. She looks happy.”

  He shrugged and sat beside his wife and took her hand in his. For some reason, he couldn’t stop touching her. “We’re managing alright.”

  Her eyes twinkled as she poked him in the arm. “You’re looking pretty happy yourself. I think ‘alright’ is an understatement.”

  “Anyway,” he began, eager to change topics, “I was wondering how much Woape knows how to cook. Did you teach her anything?”

  “I showed her how to make bread and that stew we had. She likes corn and beans. There’s not much to preparing those. I’m sure she’s capable of making some things. Did you let her pick out the food?”

  “Of course. I don’t know how to make anything.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And you wonder why I insisted you marry. Jerky isn’t a long-term plan. I’m sure that she will be able to make something tasty out of the items she picked, but if there are any problems, I can come and help out.”

  That made him feel better. He looked at Woape who was smiling at him and his aunt. Would she be smiling if she realized that they were debating whether or not she was able to cook? He figured that she wouldn’t, so it was good that she didn’t understand what they were saying. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  “You’ll be fine,” his aunt said. “She’s a smart one.”

  They stayed for a few more minutes before they returned home. As he glanced around the house, he knew they still had a long way to go before it would truly feel like a home, but at least they had what they needed—and that was a good start.

  He knew Woape wanted to take a bath, especially since she hadn’t had one the day before, so he heated up the water on the cook stove and filled the washtub with it. He decided to join her, thinking he could also use a bath and it’d be more fun to take one with her than by himself. Since there were no curtains, he set the tub in the bedroom where the window overlooked the land. The last thing he wanted was for someone to walk by and see them.

  As he poured the last bucket into the tub, he noticed that Woape hadn’t taken off the new dress his aunt had bought for her. Considering how she didn’t hesitate to undress before, he thought it was odd. Then he figured it must be because it was day. Maybe she was more bashful in the sunlight. He could understand that. Still, he wasn’t going to let the hot bath pass them up. The last thing he wanted to do was drag hot water up the stairs again.

  He took off his clothes and grabbed the soap and motioned for her to join him. She seemed hesitant but slowly took her dress off. He went over to help her with her undergarments but she shook her head, said something, and stepped back.

  Something isn’t right.

  He debated whether he should press the issue or not but decided against it. Instead, he turned his attention to the tub and got in so he could start washing himself. He just finished rinsing his hair with a cup when she approached him. He stood up and helped her into the tub. It wasn’t big enough for two people, but he didn’t care. It was an excuse to be close to her, and he liked the way her body felt against his. He gave her a lingering kiss, already imagining where things were headed. At least this time they could make love on a bed.

  When he ended the kiss, he motioned to her braids. Then he held up the cup full of warm water. “Wash hair?”

  She nodded and swiftly unbraided her hair.

  He got out of the tub so she could sit down. He hadn’t realized her hair reached all the way to her waist until it fell down her back. She had beautiful hair. He reached out to touch it and marveled at the silky feel of it. She shifted so she faced him and held out her hands for the cup.

  He did as she bid and picked up the soap so he could work up a good lather. She could wash her hair, but he would insist on washing the rest of her. He took his time in rubbing the soap into her skin as she rubbed the shampoo in her hair. Her body still fascinated him. He wanted to memorize every inch of it. For some reason, it looked better in the sunlight—probably because he could see everything. The night had a tendency to cast shadows that obscured a clear view, and she was a view he didn’t want to miss. He had no idea that bathing could be so exciting. If she wanted to keep bathing every day, he just might pick up the habit as well.

  When his fingers traced the scar beneath her right breast, he reasoned that it was probably the result of a childhood accident. He, after all, had accumulated a few scars from tumbles he’d taken. In the light of day, it didn’t seem as alarming as it had when he first saw it. Turning his attention to the rest of his duty, he gently washed her breasts, noticing that she had finished with her hair which hung nicely down her back.

  He figured she might like to have her back washed as well, so he reached for her hair to
move it aside. She shoved his hand away. The harsh movement startled him. They were having a wonderful time together...or at least he thought they were. When he looked into her eyes, he realized she wasn’t mad at him, like he initially assumed. Instead, he caught a glimmer of fear in her expression. Fear of what? Of him?

  He reached for her hand and gently held it while he studied her reaction. No. She wasn’t afraid of him. But it was becoming obvious that she was afraid he’d see her bare back, which explained why she faced him whenever she was naked. He waited for a moment, wondering if he should press the issue. Finally, he decided that she was his wife and the sooner he uncovered her secret, the better. After all, how could they deal with whatever shadows lurked in her past if they didn’t confront them, especially in the light of day?

  He took her other hand and urged her to stand with him. She resisted, probably guessing at what he was doing. But he was determined to find out what was going on.

  “It’s alright, Woape. Trust me,” he softly said.

  She shook her head and tried to pull her hands out of his but he wouldn’t let her.

  “I won’t hurt you. I care about you.” He sighed, knowing very well she couldn’t understand him. “Gary ibero. Woape murse.” Those words were inadequate but they would have to do.

  Staring at the water in the tub, she slowly stood up.

  He released one of her hands so he could brush the hair aside. A welt ran across her back. “What the...?” He stepped around her so that he had a clear view of her from behind and pushed all of her hair out of the way. His blood turned cold. She didn’t just have one red mark seared into her skin. He guessed there were twenty lashes and multiple bruises that ran the length from her shoulders to the top of her thighs.

  “Is this what they did to you? Is this why you ran away?” he asked, immediately criticizing himself for the anger that laced his voice. He wasn’t mad at her. He didn’t want her to think he was mad at her. She didn’t inflict this on herself. “Woape, I’m sorry,” he whispered. He turned her around and wrapped her in his arms.