She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent
Lord Byron, 1813
Nevada State Prison, September, 1874
It was long past sunset on the night before his grand jury hearing was to begin. It was a calm, warm night, no hint of Autumn yet in the air. Heath was not calm. He unbuttoned his shirt, trying to cool off a bit. He paced from window to window in his cell block, unable to sleep, unable even to sit down. Roberts leaned back in his chair, watching, understanding.
"It's gonna be a long night, watching you go back'n forth, back'n forth, Barkley," he commented.
Heath glanced at him. "Well, lucky for you, your shift ends in four hours."
"True that."
The outer door opened, and Nick entered, escorting Rivka. She had borrowed some clothing from Audra - once they discovered happily they wore the same size - and she was dressed in a light cotton button-down shirt and riding slacks. She carried her medical valise.
Heath stopped in his pacing to take in the sight of her. Her hair was loose, and the blouse clung to her curves and lay several buttons open at her throat. She stepped into his cell. His mouth was dry, she smelled lovely, and her presence was making him feel even more overheated that he already was, and full of butterflies besides.
"First things first. I've been ordered to provide an evaluation for your pre-trial medical clearance."
He didn't smile. He seemed to not know where to direct his eyes, and he stuck his hands nervously in his pockets. She could practically see the worry coming off of him in waves. She also could see her effect on him. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. She made a decision.
"This will not do. You need to relax and get some sleep, otherwise you may get sick again. And you need your wits about you for the hearing tomorrow." She left the cell and called both Nick and Roberts over. "I need some time alone with him. Alone. You understand? Mr. Roberts you may stand guard, outside."
Both men looked at her in surprise. Then Roberts nodded, suppressing a smile. "Yes, ma'am, I'll be outside."
"Nick. You too. Out." Nick backed up slowly, puzzled. Then understanding dawned and he smiled broadly as he turned away.
She closed the outer door firmly, turned down the gas lamps, and then returned to the cell where Heath stood, watching her, unsure, even apprehensive. He swallowed as she stepped up close to face him, looking stern.
"You -" pushing him backwards, "need -" He felt the cot behind him. "To rest." She moved forward until he sat on the bed, then leaned in with a hand on each shoulder until he lay down, looking up at her.
His breathing quickened as she brought her lips next to his ear.
"Heath Barkley, I intend to be your wife someday, do you understand me?"
She pulled back slightly to look in his surprised, wondering eyes. She smiled. Oh, she was going to enjoy this.
"You are afraid because we don't know what will happen tomorrow. We never know what will happen tomorrow. But it doesn't matter, because I love you, and I intend to be your wife, even if the grand jury says I have to wait a hundred years. Do I make myself clear?"
He nodded, opened his mouth as if to speak. She kissed him instead, deeply, taking her time, tasting him and breathing in his scent. She lay down and pressed the length of her body against his, sliding her hand up over his bare chest. He moaned, his arms coming around her waist to pull her in closer.
She moved to kiss his neck, her thigh sliding between his legs, pressing, and she felt him shiver, gasp. She smiled, her face hidden.
"Rivka, wait, I can't - we -"
She kissed her way back up to his ear. "Shh, love. Listen to me. I tended to your naked body for almost two weeks. I remained completely professional, keeping myself admirably in check, and I think we both know that patience is not one of my virtues. True, there are things we won't do until we're properly married, but there's plenty of other things I can think of…" She kissed him again. He was utterly, altogether aroused by her words, lost in the feeling of her mouth on his and her hair falling all around him. He did not realize she had undone his pants until he felt her warm hand slide within, her fingers wrapping around him, freeing him from his jeans, stroking him firmly. He sucked in a breath, rising up against her, closing his eyes. He had to fight to control himself.
"Oh, God, darlin' - what -"
"Don't hold back, love. This one's quick. We can take our time after."
Rivka soaked up the sight of him, flushed, groaning with the movement of her hand. She was so close to release herself that as he untucked her shirt and she felt his rough, gentle hands moving along her ribs, under her clothes, caressing her breast, she had to struggle a bit herself to hold back. She fitted herself against him, her hips moving in time with her stroking, squeezing rhythm. His arms were around her, one warm hand at her lower back, pulling her in tight.
She heard his breathing quicken. "Rivka, please, don't stop, I love you - God -"
As he arched up off the bed and cried out she kissed him and let herself go as well, shuddering with pleasure as she snuggled up against him.
He sighed as he brought his hands up into her hair. She unbuttoned her shirt and the camisole underneath so she could feel her skin against his. He rolled up on his side so he could look at her. He slid his hand gently up from her waist to push aside the thin fabric that covered her, bending his head to kiss her neck, her shoulder, her soft breasts. She hummed happily, tilting her head back, eyes closing. They kissed again, and then took their time exploring each other. "We've got four hours," Rivka whispered, smiling, then gasped as Heath's hands went roaming downward. She laughed. "Then I think you'll sleep just fine."
Nick remained loyally outside the cell block, smoking a cigar and watching the moon rise and chatting aimlessly with Roberts, both of them chuckling periodically as they glanced at the closed door and but refraining from giving voice to the innumerable off-color remarks that came to mind. A few minutes after midnight, the door opened, and Rivka emerged, looking disheveled only to a very suspicious eye, but otherwise composed and wearing a smile. Both men jumped to their feet. She turned first to the deputy marshal.
"Mr. Roberts, you can go back in now, but quietly, please."
"Yes, ma'am." He touched his hat respectfully and stepped inside, maintaining a face of complete seriousness until he had his back turned. Nick looked into the cell block, amazed to see Heath motionless and fast asleep, instead of pacing like a caged mountain lion.
"Nick, will you walk me out?" He turned to her with his best poker face. She met his gaze with a smile and a wink. "Not to worry, big brother. Heath's out. He's going to sleep well tonight."
Nick took a breath in and tried for a straight face for another moment or two. Then he let it out with a laugh and a smile that spoke of both relief and admiration. "You're the doctor." He offered his arm and walked her toward the gate, chuckling and shaking his head. "You are somethin' else."