The Romancing of Evangeline Ipswich Page 10

  Evangeline blushed. She couldn’t believe a man other than her father was directing her to such things as an outhouse.

  Hutch could see Evangeline’s discomfort. She was as red as a summer tomato. He understood that she had a lot to take in—and that she was nowhere near ready to be married to him in every physical sense of the word.

  And so he said, “Why don’t you drink your glass of water, and do whatever else you feel you need to do, and then just skip on into the bedroom and rest a while? I’m going to run back over to Calvin’s and collect your trunk. All right?”

  “A-all right,” she stammered nervously.

  Taking her by the shoulders again, he gazed directly into her beautiful deep-green eyes and said, “You need some rest, Evangeline. We all do. Don’t worry about anything else. Do you understand what I mean?”

  Her blush increased, but she smiled and nodded at him. “I am very tired,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired before…not in all my life.”

  “Well, you’ve good reason,” Hutch said. “I’ll get a little fire going in the bedroom, and you drink that glass of water Mrs. Swayze insisted on.”

  Her smile broadened as she looked at him, and for a moment he almost thought she was looking at him…well, rather lovingly. Still, Hutch knew it was foolhardy to hope too much that Evangeline would just accept that she was married to him and settle right into a life of wedded bliss. He had to be patient.

  Oh, certainly he wanted nothing more in all the world at that moment than to swoop her up in his arms, carry her to what was now their bedroom, kiss her until her lips bruised, and consummate their marriage right then and there! But if he wanted Evangeline to love him one day, Hutch knew he was going to need more patience than he’d heretofore ever exerted collectively in his whole life!

  He released his hold on her—though unwillingly, for he liked touching her—and headed toward the back of the house and the bedroom. “You get to drinking that glass of water now, you hear me?”

  “I will,” she called after him. Hutch could hear the happy lilt to her voice, and it encouraged him. Once he’d set the fire in the hearth in the bedroom, he’d hightail it back to Calvin’s for an hour or so and let Evangeline truly rest. He figured if he waited long enough for her to slip into a deep sleep, she’d never notice that she had to share a bed with him. Hutch determined that he’d keep to his own side of the bed—even though the want and need to hold her in his arms as she slept would be almost impossible to deny. Still, he’d do it—for he did so desperately want her to fall in love with him one day—to truly want to be his wife—and to maybe one day thank Jennie for begging her to marry him.

  Hutch had just finished getting the fire going well when Evangeline appeared at the bedroom door. Turning to look at her, he felt his breath catch in his throat. She’d unpinned her hair and was standing in the doorway combing the ebony silk with her fingers.

  “The fire’s going,” he said, rising to his feet.

  Jones trotted in at that moment, wagging his tail so hard that Hutch wondered how the three-legged dog was keeping his balance.

  “Um…Jones is pretty used to sleeping at the foot of the bed,” Hutch explained. “But I can take him with me to Calvin’s if you like so he won’t bother you.”

  Evangeline hunkered down and began scratching Jones under his jowls.

  “Oh, goodness no!” she giggled. “He can keep my feet warm.”

  Hutch grinned. It was just another of the many things he liked about the woman—the fact that she was accepting of and affectionate with his dog. She was more than accepting, in fact. Hutch could tell Evangeline already adored Jones.

  “Well, all righty then,” Hutch said, standing and brushing past Evangeline as he left the room. “It’s all yours. Sleep tight, now.” He grinned at the beautiful woman standing in his bedroom. “Sweet dreams.”

  “You mean, green beans,” Evangeline giggled.

  “What?” Hutch asked, confused.

  “Oh, it’s just something my little sister Shay always says,” she explained as she sat down on the bed and began to unlace her shoes. “When she was little, she always thought people were saying green beans and not sweet dreams.” She shrugged, continuing, “So we’ve all just started saying green beans to one another.”

  Hutch chuckled. “She must be a real sweetie.”

  Evangeline nodded, her eyelids beginning to droop already. “She is.” She laughed, looked at Hutch, and added, “And for Pete’s sake, the child already has a wedding photo! Something I guess I’ll never have, hmm.”

  She lay down on the bed then, and Hutch could swear she was asleep before her head hit the pillow. Quietly walking over to the bed, he stared down at the ethereal creature before him. He wanted so badly to touch her—to run his hands through the raven silk of her hair—to taste her lips with an impassioned kiss.

  Instead, however, he simply retrieved an extra quilt that had been abandoned on a nearby chair and covered her with it. Evangeline didn’t even stir when Jones hopped up onto the bed, curling up right next to her feet and puffing a breath of fatigue of his own.

  “What do you have to be tired about, boy?” Hutch asked in an amused whisper. He patted the dog’s head. “Keep an eye on her while I’m gone, Jones. I’m counting on you.”

  Hutch left Evangeline to her rest then, though it was a hard thing for him to do—to leave her. He’d become aware that, since the day she’d arrived in Red Peak, he’d had a difficult time in leaving her—no matter what the reason.

  Closing the front door to the house behind him, Hutch made his way back to Calvin and Jennie’s place to retrieve Evangeline’s trunk. He’d linger there as long as he was able—but with the temptation of being able to watch Evangeline sleep in his bed, he doubted he could make himself stay away too long.

  *

  Evangeline’s arms felt cold. As she slowly drifted into wakefulness, she felt that her feet were warm and comfortable, but not her arms and shoulders. Her body felt stiff, as if she’d been lying in the same position without moving for hours and hours. She couldn’t quite open her eyes yet, for her sleep had obviously been very deep. Still, she could hear the quiet of nighttime—the soft crackle of a fire that was almost only embers, a late autumn breeze outside the window. She could hear something else—something down by her feet—and quickly determined that it was Jones, snoring away the midnight hours in the contentment of slumber.

  Evangeline’s eyes fairly popped open then as another sound attracted her attention: the sound of slow, long, regular breathing—breathing that was not her own, nor was it Jones’s. She’d been lying on her left side, but carefully and, oh, so slowly now, she rolled onto her back, looking to her right. In the glowing firelight in the room, she could easily make out the silhouette of Hutch’s broad shoulders. He was lying on his right side, facing away from her, but even for the low light, she could see that he wasn’t wearing a shirt! Hutch was lying next to her on the bed with the bare skin of his back and shoulders only inches away!

  Frantically covering her eyes with her hands, Evangeline gasped aloud, “Hutchner! What are you doing?”

  She heard a low moan of fatigue—felt him turn onto his back as he said, “Trying to get some damn sleep, Evangeline. What’re you doing?”

  “But you’re in bed with me!” she exclaimed. “And you’re naked!”

  Hutch roused then, and Evangeline felt him pull her hands from her eyes. There he was, leaning over her, in all his magnificent, handsome, alluring glory! His hair was mussed from sleeping, and Evangeline adored the fact so much that she almost smiled. Still, as he continued to hover over her, his eyes narrowed with weariness, she began to tremble. He was so near to her! In fact, the bareness of his chest and stomach were brushing against the day dress she still wore, but she’d broken out in such a rash of goose bumps she quivered a moment.

  “I’m not naked,” he said, gazing down into her eyes. He grinned a little. “My mama broke me of that habit
when I was about fourteen. She said it wasn’t proper.” He tugged at the covers at his waist, lifted them, and said, “See? I’m wearing my long underpants.”

  “Oh my!” Evangeline gasped again, once more covering her eyes.

  “What woke you up, sugar?” Hutch asked. He ran a hand over her arm, and even through the sleeve of her dress, the gesture caused butterflies to swarm in her stomach. “Here,” Hutch said then. “I’ll keep you warm. Now let’s get back to sleep, hmm?”

  Before Evangeline had any chance to move, Hutch reached out, laying his strong, warm, bare arm across her shoulders. “Turn back over. We’ll be warmer that way,” he mumbled. “I’m still wrung out.”

  Evangeline did indeed turn back to her left side, trying not to gasp when Hutch’s strong arm pulled her back against him. He adjusted the covers so that her shoulders were now protected from the frigid night, but when his arm settled at her waist, Evangeline thought she might fly apart with sudden desire and delight!

  She could feel his breath in her hair as he said, “Good night, Evangeline. String beans.”

  Evangeline smiled, thinking how adorable it was that he’d attempted to offer her family’s nighttime endearment to her. “String beans,” she whispered, knowing she would never sleep another wink that night. How could she, with Hutch’s arm around her, with his breath so warm and titillating in her hair? Maybe he really didn’t mind so much that he hadn’t had his choice of wife. After all, men were vastly different than women. Maybe men didn’t care so much who they were married to, as long as they had a wife they could…

  But she didn’t want to think that! She wanted Hutch to want her and only her! She wanted him to love her the way she’d always loved him, and she especially wanted him to love her the way she’d discovered she loved him since arriving in Red Peak. She wanted him to be in love with her.

  It didn’t take long for Hutch’s breathing to become slow and regular once more. When she was quite certain he was asleep, Evangeline slowly moved her right arm so that it lay on his that held her. His skin was so warm and smooth. She could feel the heat of his skin against her back where his chest was flush with her, and again goose bumps traveled over her arms and legs.

  This was more than she’d ever dreamed of! The sensation of being so close to Hutch—of being held by him, of lying against him—it was euphoric! She desperately wanted to roll over and face him, kiss him directly on the mouth—wishing that he would kiss her back. But she didn’t want to appear to be a wanton woman. For pity’s sake! If he thought Heather Griffiths was brazen, what would he think of Evangeline if she endeavored to seduce him into kissing her? And in bed of all places! He’d probably think she belonged in a saloon, rather than in his bed.

  Therefore, Evangeline decided to bide her time—to be patient. Of course, she would do everything she could think of to win Hutch—to make him one day glad he had been forced to marry her. She just needed to be patient—patient, serving, and attentive. Then maybe one day, sometime in the distant future, she really would win Hutchner LaMontagne’s heart for her own—just the way she’d dreamt of for as long as she could remember.

  CHAPTER TEN

  As the inviting aroma of sausage and warm biscuits filled his nostrils, Hutch stretched where he lay in bed. In truth, he was pretty darn surprised he’d been able to fall asleep after having been awakened by Evangeline in the middle of the night—especially since he’d been allowed to hold her, for the sake of keeping her warm. He must’ve been far more worn out than he’d realized to be able to sleep at all with the beauty in his arms—her warm, curvaceous body resting against his. But, by some miracle, he had slept. And though he didn’t feel as wide-awake and ready for the day as he usually did, he felt better. He hoped Evangeline felt better as well. He’d been so worried for her the night before when he’d tucked her into bed and headed for Calvin’s to retrieve her trunk.

  Even for his lingering lethargy, when the realization struck him that Evangeline was already up and making breakfast, Hutch hopped out of bed, pulled on his trousers and boots, and headed out the back door of the house to wash his face before facing his wife after their first night together.

  The water in the rain barrel was frozen over. But Hutch punched a fist through the thin layer of ice, splashing a few handfuls of frigid water on his face and taking a few swallows to revive himself. If he hadn’t been wide awake a moment before, he certainly was now!

  Having made a quick trip to the outhouse, he paused before the mirror in the mudroom at the back of the house to run his fingers through his hair a few times, snapped his suspenders that were hanging at his waist over his shoulders, and headed into the kitchen.

  In being honest with himself, Hutch was a bit nervous about facing Evangeline. She’d been so stunned to find him in bed next to her that he feared she would be angry with him. Still, she had allowed him to keep her warm, and he figured that was a good sign she didn’t hate him or anything.

  As he entered the kitchen and saw her standing at the stove turning some sausages in a skillet, Hutch smiled and exhaled a sigh of admiration. For a moment, he was doubtful that he was really seeing what he was seeing—the beautiful Evangeline, standing at his stove in his house, cooking breakfast for him.

  But she really was there, and he wondered how long she’d been awake—for she was completely dressed and her hair coifed perfectly. Hutch smiled with amusement and unforeseen pleasure as he noticed she wasn’t wearing any shoes. She wasn’t wearing any stockings for that matter either, and something about the fact caused Hutch’s physical desires for her to escalate a hundredfold. Inhaling a deep breath of self-control, Hutch realized just how difficult it was going to be to be patient enough to win Evangeline’s heart without ravaging her.

  “Good morning.”

  The sound of Hutch’s voice both startled and thrilled Evangeline. Whirling around, and nearly dropping the fork she’d been using to turn the sausage she was cooking, she gasped when she saw him standing in the kitchen wearing only his trousers and boots.

  “G-good morning,” she greeted, forcing a smile and praying she did not look as unsettled as she felt.

  Oh my goodness, Evangeline thought as she studied Hutch quickly for a moment. His superb physique was far more intimidating in the broad light of day than it had been in the dark of midnight.

  “I-I hope you don’t mind sausage and biscuits for breakfast,” she stammered. “I was going to make bacon and eggs…but then I wasn’t sure whether you were still tired of—”

  A knock on the door interrupted her.

  Hutch frowned. “Who on earth can that possibly be?” he grumbled as he carefully peeked through one of the kitchen curtains. “Oh hell,” he growled.

  “Who is it?” Evangeline asked. It was obvious Hutch was not pleased with whomever it was.

  “Heather Griffiths,” he said in whisper.

  “Heather Griffiths?” Evangeline squeaked.

  She was at once irritated. What was Heather Griffiths doing knocking on Hutch’s front door? After all, whether it had been his choice or not, he was a married man now. He was Evangeline’s man!

  Hurrying to where Evangeline stood, Hutch took the fork from her hand and removed the skillet from the fire on the stove, setting them aside.

  “Here,” he whispered.

  “What?” Evangeline inquired.

  Hutch then reached out, quickly pulling a few pins from Evangeline’s hair, causing it to begin cascading down around her shoulders.

  “What are you doing?” Evangeline exclaimed in a whisper. Though she did not want Hutch knowing, she had spent quite a lot of time that morning before he’d awakened—quite a lot of time pinning her hair so that she might look her best when he woke.

  “Shh!” Hutch shushed. The expression on his glorious countenance was that of pure mischief—though Evangeline couldn’t fathom why.

  Next he unbuttoned the top three buttons of her shirtwaist collar—and then tugged at her shirtwaist, untucking it from her
skirt.

  “Hutchner!” Evangeline scolded. “What on earth are you doing?”

  “Just go along with me, all right?” he asked. An impish grin spread across his face. “This will be fun. I promise!”

  Another knock at the door, and he said, “Hurry! Unbutton a few more buttons of your shirt there.”

  “I will not!” Evangeline whispered.

  “Come on, Evie,” he almost begged. “Just give me this one moment of…of…”

  “Hutchner?” came Heather Griffiths’s voice from the other side of the door. “Are you home? I’ve just been to Jennie’s and…”

  Reaching out with impatience, Hutch tugged at the collar of Evangeline’s shirtwaist, pulling hard enough that several buttons went flying across the room and exposing her neck and throat.

  Evangeline gasped as Hutch winked at her and then turned and opened the door. Indeed, Heather Griffiths was standing on the porch.

  “H-Hutchner?” Heather stammered. Her eyes fell to his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. After all, he stood before her shamelessly displaying the smooth, muscular curves of his torso.

  “Heather?” Hutch said, feigning momentary confusion.

  “Hutch…I’ve just been to Jennie’s house to welcome her new baby…and she tells me that you…that you’re married?” the young woman nearly screeched. “How can you be married?”

  Hutch raked a hand through his dark hair and chuckled. “The Reverend Lloyd married us…didn’t he, Evie?”