Free The Lumberjack's Bride by Jean Kincaid Page B

hadn’t. Confusion filled her mind. She hadn’t wanted him to take the kiss, and yet she felt the need to sample one from him.
    She quickly changed into her nightgown and prepared for bed. After brushing her hair, she climbed under the quilts.
    Why hadn’t he kissed her? She flipped over onto her stomach. The thoughts troubled her. Why did she care that he hadn’t kissed her?
    â€œI should be grateful.” She breathed into the pillow. But, she wasn’t. Julianne chalked it up to being overly tired from her day at the stream.
    * * *
    Caleb left the house torn by conflicting emotions. She had made him sound like a caveman. “‘I’m your wife; all you have to do is take it.’” He mimicked her words out loud.
    Didn’t she know he wouldn’t force himself on her? Hadn’t he told her as much?
    Disappointment ate at him. Her breath and hair had smelled fresh and clean. Everything about her seemed pure.
    Caleb admitted he’d wanted the kiss. What would it be like to touch her sweet lips with his?
    He stomped out to the barn. The horse neighed, and the cow mooed. Caleb picked up the lantern that sat on a small shelf by the door and lit it.
    He walked over to his horse and rubbed its nose. “I don’t understand my new wife.”
    The cow released a low sound that snagged Caleb’s sense of humor, and he chuckled in spite of himself. “Oh, you understand her do you?” He moved across the stall and scratched behind the cow’s big velvet ear.
    â€œFor just a moment, I was sure she wanted the kiss as much as I did.” He moved away from the animals to a pile of wood that sat at the back of the barn.
    Caleb searched through it until he found a small piece of wood. He carried it back to the old stump he used as a stool. A knife lay on the ledge close by and he picked it up and began to whittle.
    Prayers peeled from his soul with each shaving of wood.
    How long he whittled and prayed Caleb wasn’t sure. He held the small nipple out and looked it over. A good roll in river sand would soften the edges of the wood and make it safe for the baby.
    He stood, blew out the lantern and returned to the cabin.
    Careful not to wake Julianne, he climbed the stairs to his bed. The mattress creaked with his weight. Caleb wondered if Julianne had heard. He tilted his head sideways and listened.
    The cabin remained silent. Tomorrow would be different, he told himself. It was obvious Julianne didn’t trust him. He had to nurture her until she did. With that thought in mind, he drifted off to sleep.
    Heat bore down on him until he thought he would suffocate. Caleb twisted in the quilt. Sleep evaporated from his eyes, and he sat up. Daylight filtered through the window, and he realized he’d overslept.
    He ran a hand through his damp hair. The house was stifling hot, and he wondered what had caused such heat. Pulling his clothes on, Caleb started down the stairs.
    When he got to the bottom he found the house empty. Fresh loaves of bread rested on the kitchen table, but Julianne and the baby were nowhere to be found, so he went in search of them.
    Stepping onto the porch he realized it was almost noon. He’d slept away most of the day. What must Julianne think of him? Where was she, anyway?
    He scoured the yard and garden. He didn’t see her anywhere, and his heart began to pound.
    The cow let out a loud bellow. Caleb ran to the barn. He stopped just outside the open doors. Who was inside the barn? Could the Indians have come to carry off his family, livestock, and who knew what else, while he slept?
    It took all his will not to race inside when he heard Julianne’s raised voice. He could sense the anger in her.
    â€œFine! See if I try to help you again. You are an ungrateful beast with a nasty temper.”
    Caleb cautiously peeked around the door. His lovely wife stood with her hands on her hips, facing the cow, who had her head lowered and looked