would be bad, but you didn't listen."
His man Ralston came from behind laughing. "Captain, glad you're back. But I see you still can't handle your woman."
"Ralston, I know exactly how to handle my woman." He flipped Precious over his shoulder; just like he did the night on the Margeaux when he saved her from drowning.
Breathless, she hung to his back. Blood drained from her face. "Put me down."
"Nothing doing, woman." He pivoted to his first mate, making her head bobble. "Ralston, head back to the fort. Make sure the men are on alert. No one shoots unless we are shot at first. They may send a lone emissary. He is to arrive and leave in safety. Is that clear?"
Upside down, her vision blurred. She couldn't see Ralston but heard the respect in his voice. "Yes, sir."
Precious watched Ralston's boots trudged back toward the fort.
"Now it's time to deal with you, Miss Jewell." His steps quickened as he marched back to their residence. He kicked open the door and pounded into the parlor. "You just don't know how to do a homecoming do you?"
Still dangling down his back, next to his smelly grass stained rucksack, she didn't have a chance to respond. All she could do was push against his thick legs to keep from smashing into him with each of his movements.
With a flip and a light swat to her fanny, he tossed her onto the sofa. "Woman, I'm home."
He dropped his sack, came round and plopped onto the floor in front of the sofa. He folded his arms and leaned his head back against the cushions.
They both sat there in silence with the sun fading. Soon the rays would stop pouring through the lead glass. Only the candle's light would remain. Who would speak first?
Finally, he sighed long and hard. "Precious." His voice sounded tight, as if he struggled to sound calm and reasoned. "Tell me what that was about. Mzwamadoda told me you actually wanted my return. I've ridden like a crazy person to be here."
"You should've never left."
"If he'd said I was to be made a fool of on Main Street, I might have taken more time. Maybe even gotten a nap. We will be the talk of the colonists. The captain and his argumentative governess."
He was right. She'd shamed him, but none of that mattered now. He was back. He could save her friend. "Miss Clara needs you. The baby is in trouble. Her water has come out."
He swiped at his brow. Is the babe still quickening?"
"Yes. He's still active, though I've slowed her contractions with the rue."
He stood up and peeled off his jacket and sank on to the sofa. The man was sweaty and tired. The most wonderful man she'd ever seen. "Well, its seems I'm back in time for her. Is she the only one who needs me, Precious?"
She couldn't say it, could she? Pushing up on the cushions, she got on her knees and reached up to his dusty mop to order his hair. "No, she isn't the only one who needs you."
He clasped her hand and pressed a kiss into it. "Maybe you should tell me who else needs me. Is it Jonas?"
The moan in her throat evaporated all her reason.
Gareth splayed apart the fingers she used for measuring. He kissed the soft spot at the crevice. "Maybe you did miss me."
She couldn't be wanton right now. Her friend needed him more than she. "Wash your hands really good. There's hot water in the kitchen. I've been keeping it warmed to prepare. Then come upstairs, and save my friend."
He didn't let her stand. Instead he pulled her back. His powerful arm swept her into a full embrace. She didn't resist and rested against him. The counts of his heartbeat were musical. She could stay like this forever.
His lips graced her forehead and nibbled an ear. "The next time I come home, I expect a much warmer greeting. Is that understood?"
Who could think with him teasing her? She pushed at his chest. "Go wash up and put on a fresh shirt. You've a baby to deliver."
He nodded and left the parlor.
Precious smoothed the collar of her smock and tried to push away the feeling of warmth and love bubbling
His man Ralston came from behind laughing. "Captain, glad you're back. But I see you still can't handle your woman."
"Ralston, I know exactly how to handle my woman." He flipped Precious over his shoulder; just like he did the night on the Margeaux when he saved her from drowning.
Breathless, she hung to his back. Blood drained from her face. "Put me down."
"Nothing doing, woman." He pivoted to his first mate, making her head bobble. "Ralston, head back to the fort. Make sure the men are on alert. No one shoots unless we are shot at first. They may send a lone emissary. He is to arrive and leave in safety. Is that clear?"
Upside down, her vision blurred. She couldn't see Ralston but heard the respect in his voice. "Yes, sir."
Precious watched Ralston's boots trudged back toward the fort.
"Now it's time to deal with you, Miss Jewell." His steps quickened as he marched back to their residence. He kicked open the door and pounded into the parlor. "You just don't know how to do a homecoming do you?"
Still dangling down his back, next to his smelly grass stained rucksack, she didn't have a chance to respond. All she could do was push against his thick legs to keep from smashing into him with each of his movements.
With a flip and a light swat to her fanny, he tossed her onto the sofa. "Woman, I'm home."
He dropped his sack, came round and plopped onto the floor in front of the sofa. He folded his arms and leaned his head back against the cushions.
They both sat there in silence with the sun fading. Soon the rays would stop pouring through the lead glass. Only the candle's light would remain. Who would speak first?
Finally, he sighed long and hard. "Precious." His voice sounded tight, as if he struggled to sound calm and reasoned. "Tell me what that was about. Mzwamadoda told me you actually wanted my return. I've ridden like a crazy person to be here."
"You should've never left."
"If he'd said I was to be made a fool of on Main Street, I might have taken more time. Maybe even gotten a nap. We will be the talk of the colonists. The captain and his argumentative governess."
He was right. She'd shamed him, but none of that mattered now. He was back. He could save her friend. "Miss Clara needs you. The baby is in trouble. Her water has come out."
He swiped at his brow. Is the babe still quickening?"
"Yes. He's still active, though I've slowed her contractions with the rue."
He stood up and peeled off his jacket and sank on to the sofa. The man was sweaty and tired. The most wonderful man she'd ever seen. "Well, its seems I'm back in time for her. Is she the only one who needs me, Precious?"
She couldn't say it, could she? Pushing up on the cushions, she got on her knees and reached up to his dusty mop to order his hair. "No, she isn't the only one who needs you."
He clasped her hand and pressed a kiss into it. "Maybe you should tell me who else needs me. Is it Jonas?"
The moan in her throat evaporated all her reason.
Gareth splayed apart the fingers she used for measuring. He kissed the soft spot at the crevice. "Maybe you did miss me."
She couldn't be wanton right now. Her friend needed him more than she. "Wash your hands really good. There's hot water in the kitchen. I've been keeping it warmed to prepare. Then come upstairs, and save my friend."
He didn't let her stand. Instead he pulled her back. His powerful arm swept her into a full embrace. She didn't resist and rested against him. The counts of his heartbeat were musical. She could stay like this forever.
His lips graced her forehead and nibbled an ear. "The next time I come home, I expect a much warmer greeting. Is that understood?"
Who could think with him teasing her? She pushed at his chest. "Go wash up and put on a fresh shirt. You've a baby to deliver."
He nodded and left the parlor.
Precious smoothed the collar of her smock and tried to push away the feeling of warmth and love bubbling
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