When Arthur and Eliza got to the wagon, they found Isaac and Hope clinging tight to each other with tears streaming down both their terrified pink faces. The moment the children saw them, they gasped with boundless relief and reached for them, calling out for them with pained, crescent moon frowns.
"Mamaaaa! P-papaaaa!"
Their parents scurried up into the wagon and took them in their arms, both quickly checking them all over for any wounds, finding none.
"You all right? Isaac, Hope, you all right?" their father queried nervously.
"W-we woke up at the first shot, and you weren't h-here. Then after the second sh-shot, Mama left. Then we heard more shots," Isaac cried and sputtered and hiccuped, finally letting out a wail, "and then it was quieeeet!"
As she held her arms around them both and felt Arthur's big arms around all of them, Eliza's face crumpled, and she clucked her tongue at the thought of what must've gone through their heads. "Sweet things… We're okay. We're here, we're all okay."
With his eyes shut tight and his fist clenched in his father's soft flannel shirt, Isaac turned his face into his father's chest. "Don't do that again, Daddy. No more, o-okay? N-not ever again," he sniffled, his little chest popping and heaving with the leftover hiccups from his fright.
Arthur's brows drew up as he cradled the back of Isaac's head and listened to his children's trembling cries and soft sighs.
And later, in the hazy, pale blue light of early dawn, with the children sitting against the far side of a nearby tree, he and Eliza stood just outside the wagon together before the bodies strewn out across the tall prairie grass.
"This one never cleared leather," he said as he stepped past the first man he'd shot. "Stupid bastard." He looked up at her, his brows knitting together. "And he wasn't… When he said that…about you," he felt his whole body tense at the imagery of the scenario the man had deliberately planted in his mind, "he wasn't just goadin' me, man to man." He gulped hard. "He was… He was tellin' me he coulda done anything he wanted to you, shot you, and I never woulda been the wiser." He ground his teeth as his jaw set firmly. "From now on, I don't want you outta my sight," he cut the air with a flattened hand. "Understand me? Any a' you."
She simply closed her eyes a moment, and went on looking down at the bodies and gnawing the side of her thumb nail.
"And this one…" he said as he came to the second man. "Poor kid, he was just along for the cash. I didn't wanna see him go for his gun." He took in the sight of all the bodies with a sigh. "Four men… You'd think it'd be goddamn overkill."
He glanced at Eliza and noticed her gaze trained on the man she'd shot as she worried her thumbnail between her teeth. He walked over and shoved the body with the steel toe of his boot, flipping it over until the left arm flopped and the open hand was limp on the ground. "Sure as shootin', deader 'an a doornail."
She immediately let out a breath and turned away.
"You weren't ever supposed to feel this," he wagged his head.
"Feel what?"
"I saw it in your eyes," his tone rose just a little. "Don't try to play dumb, not with me. I saw it. I saw it in your eyes."
"Saw what?" she finally turned back to him.
"The guilt! The feelin' of blood on your hands!" He huffed a little, completely unused to the struggle that accompanied raising his voice to her, no matter how slightly he'd raised it. He felt it, and tried to even out his tone again. "Don't matter how it happens; it changes you. And you weren't ever supposed to feel it."
Her forehead pinched in disbelief. "It was defense. I don't regret defendin' my husband's life, and my babies' lives, Arthur. That's the God's honest truth. And why would you train me to handle guns if you didn't expect me to be able to protect us when needed? That's what I was doing. Look at me. I don't regret it for a moment!"
"It don't matter how it happens," he slowly shook his head, still looking down at the body, as if he hadn't heard her. "You always feel it. That first time. And I never wanted you to feel it."
She lifted her arm and dropped it with a sigh as she turned away again.
Watching her from the corner of his eyes, his expression turned sour, and his voice began to rise again. "Remind me why it was such a good idea for me to hitch my wagon to yours?"
She spun back to him, her eyes wide and still. "Don't."
"Why it was ever such a good idea for a wanted outlaw to tie himself to a…"
"Don't."
"A good woman and little children?!"
"Arthur, stop it! Stop it!" Her pain and nerves finally spilling out, she brought an unstable hand up and rubbed her forehead hard. And when she spoke again, her voice trembled. "I can take a whole lot in stride. I've never needed to with you. But you know words like that hurt me. You know it."
Remaining where he stood, his brows began to pinch up in regret, and he couldn't help but frown as he watched her. "I'm…sorry," he whispered.
She came nearer and nearer, finally bringing her hand up to rest on the back of his neck. "When I first told you…about Isaac…about the baby, I mean. That we were pregnant," she brought her top lip in for a moment, releasing it as a tear trickled down her cheek. "I knew whatever you decided would determine so much about my life goin' forward. Whether I was to live in loneliness, and walk through darkness, or whether I'd have a partner in life, to face trials with." She sniffed. "I was so afraid…so afraid that we'd be a problem to you." She glanced down. "Not 'cause you'd ever been hard towards me, but just 'cause…that's how it usually goes." Looking back up at him, her lip trembled as she whispered, "But you never treated me that way. Not once. And I…I feel like the luckiest woman in the world, 'cause the love of my life is so kind and patient with me."
Looking up, his shoulders went slack as he let out a breath. Again with the thought of irony, that she had it backwards, and that only she would think of him with words like 'kind' and 'patient' for treating her with basic human dignity. For simply doing, for once, what a decent man ought to do.
"So you ask me…to remind you?" she sniffed, drawing closer. "Because we love you. We need you. We're family, we belong together. Because you're a good man, a good husband and father." She spoke even more quietly, "And you're better with us." Bringing her hand up to his jaw, she turned his face towards her. "There's five reasons right there. I could go on…?"
When the lines of his face smoothed into a slight smirk, she scoffed a tiny laugh and sniffed again, bringing both hands up to rest on each side of his neck.
He looked into her eyes, lined as they were with a rim of tears. When he finally opened his mouth, he could only manage to speak in quiet tones. "I…I don't… I don't know who I am if I can't protect them. If I can't protect you."
"But you did," she said, gently jostling him by the neck. "You did protect them. We did. It's one reason we're together—to lean on each other, to get through things like this."
"I know," he mumbled. "'S just hard, somethin' like this happens… Makes me wonder if you'd be better off without me around. And if I could know that'd keep you all safe, I wouldn't hesitate, I swear to God."
"Arthur…" she breathed, bringing her hand to the back of his head and resting her forehead to his. After several moments, she pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes. "You are not a problem to us. You are not a problem to me."
Standing adjacent to the couple, Arthur glanced down at the sound of her words. When he looked up, he saw his younger self with his own eyes closed, trying to let them soak in.
His younger self could feel her breath against his lips. And with her so close, he found himself tilting his chin, just a little, just enough to have her mouth in his sights.
"Can we come out from behind the tree yet?" Isaac called, causing Eliza to jump and Arthur to sigh.
"No," Arthur shouted as he looked down at the four bodies still strewn across the grass.
"But Hopie left her dolly in the wago—"
"Goddamn it, I said no!" He'd started out in a near murmur, but had ended in a roar.
Eliza immediately turned and walked over to the far side of the tree, kneeling before both children. "You need to listen to Daddy now, okay?"
"I just wanted to get Hopie her dolly for her…" Isaac said quietly.
"I know. But it's real important you both listen, and keep your eyes this way."
"Why?"
"Daddy…" She paused and licked her lips. "There are things, sometimes, that would hurt your heart, if you saw them. Daddy and I wanna protect you from that. Because we love you." She brought both hands up to gently stroke their soft little cheeks. "Do you…do you know how much we love you both?" She paused. "No…you can't quite know," she softly smiled. "I talk about the moon a lot, 'cause it's so far away. But still, I don't think that quite captures it." She looked back and forth into their eyes. "We love you both so much that we would give our lives for you."
"What's that mean?" Isaac asked quietly.
She spoke calmly and slowly. "It means that…if we had to, we'd choose to stop living, so you two could go on living."
They both looked at her with eyes that clearly showed they were contemplating her words, but couldn't totally grasp them.
She brushed their hair back from their foreheads. "All you need to know is we'd give anything for you. In a heartbeat. We want what's best for you. Daddy wants what's best for you. You believe that, don't you?"
When they both nodded, she smiled.
"I know this has all been tough. Give him a few minutes, and you can come back out from behind the tree, okay? And then we'll be back on the road, and before you know it, we'll be in wonderful California."
"California," they said in unison with her, with big smiles.
"That's right," she smiled with them.
While Eliza was with the children, Arthur dug four graves, filled them, and covered them. Only then did he give the word for the children to be allowed to come forward. They made a line straight for him, walking right into him and wrapping their little arms around him. But instead of standing there, he crouched and brought an arm around each of them, stroking the backs of their heads and kissing their cheeks, one after the other.
After eating a meal together, they all got back in the wagon and took off towards their goal with renewed resolve and an even more focused pace. Though they were anything but quiet, there was no more whining from the children whatsoever.
Then a couple days later, the scenery around them began to change. The trees grew shorter and stubbier, more like thick brush. And the air was just a tad cooler, carrying with it a certain salt-spray fragrance.
"We're almost there, I can feel it," Arthur whispered to Eliza.
"Where?"
He smirked. "You'll see."
Not half an hour later, they crested a hill to see the biggest, bluest body of water Eliza and the children had ever laid eyes on—as deep blue as the sapphire that hung from Eliza's neck. The water was as vast as the horizon, somehow both touching the cerulean sky and crashing over and over again with soothing rhythmic sounds down upon a shore that looked like smooth, pillowy, cream-colored fabric.
All three of them sat there with jaws agape.
"That's bigger than a lake," Isaac finally whispered.
"Yeah. Pacific Ocean," Arthur grinned. "Told you you'd like California. They got mountains and forests here too, don't you worry. But I wanted to show you this first."
Both children turned to look up at him.
"Can we… Can we go touch it?" Hope asked.
"'Course," he smiled. "'Course you can. Better leave your boots here though."
They quickly started pulling at their laces and tugging their boots off. Still dazed and not wanting to look away from the ocean, Eliza did the same. The children hopped down from the wagon and ran down onto the beach with their parents following barefoot.
"Hot! Hot! Hot!" Isaac said with a grimace pulled tight as he tried to take big leaps. "It's soft, but it's hot!"
"The dry sand collects heat from the sun," Arthur wheezed. "Run down to the water, it's cooler."
Isaac immediately did as he was bade, but Hope had a little trouble trudging through the soft, unstable sand.
"Ouchie, ouchie," she murmured quietly.
"Here," Arthur said, scooping her up into his arms so her little legs swung up into the air and hung over his arm. With a big smile at the sound of her laughter, he quickly ran towards the water.
Taking the skirt of her dress up in fistfuls, Eliza ran after them with a laugh.
When Arthur set Hope down, she wiggled her little monkey toes and looked up at him with a bright smile at the feel of the unique sandy mud. "It's squishy!"
"Yeah," her father chuckled airily. "You like that?"
She clenched her hands and nodded with a little bounced that bobbed her yellow curls.
They looked up to the sound of Isaac's bare feet splashed into the cool water. He stood there with a big, awestruck grin.
"Here, let me fix your clothes so you don't get so wet while you play," Eliza smiled. She rolled up both legs of Isaac's little breeches and tied the skirt of Hope's dress in a knot over her round little belly so only her bloomers remained. She did similarly for herself, tying a portion of her skirts in a big knot off to the side of her waist so they were raised off the ground and she could walk around in her white cotton pantaloons.
While the children ran about in the ocean, she reached down and dipped her fingers into the soft mud created by the meeting of sand and water. As the tide pulled back out, the sand ran with it; and when a little white shell was exposed and caught her eye, she plucked it as she straightened. She looked out again at the vastness of the water and turned to Arthur.
"We made it," she smiled to him. "H-how can it be so big? Makes me feel so small."
He watched her squint at him in the pure sunlight, her green eyes vibrant and the soft freckles across her nose more visible than ever.
"Ain't like anything I've ever seen," she said as she looked back out across the water. "So beautiful."
His gaze waded over the features of her face, so familiar to him. "Yeah—sure is," he drawled with a grin. It wasn't until he reached out and took her hand in his that she looked back at him. "Take a walk with the ol' man?"
"Sure." She smiled as she turned and fell into step beside him along the wet shore. "Long as you're all right takin' a walk with a silly little girl."
He paused, scrunched his nose, and shook his head before continuing to walk with her. "'Silly little…' That ain't the first time I've heard you say that. Where're you gettin' that?"
She shrugged a shoulder to her cheek and squirmed. "Oh…I don't know."
"You gotta be the most mature, level-headed woman I've known. I've seen you give birth twice, remember that. Seen you wrangle these crazy kids with more patience than most mothers. And you…put up with me," he tipped his head to the side. "Oughta give yourself more of a fair shake. I ain't ever called you that. I'm sure your folks never did. Where's that comin' from?"
"I just… I guess I…learned… After my folks died, bein' on my own in the world, even for that short time…I realized most folk don't lend a second thought to people like me. Or they'd see me as insignificant, a nuisance. And I guess I learned to expect it, and to think of myself the same way."
"Why—" he quipped boldly with a huff. "'Cause you're young, and don't like cigarettes, and find reasons to smile even when things get tough?"
She mumbled unintelligibly and shrugged one shoulder again.
"Well—I'm good with guns, I like cigarettes, and I can get fierce when I need to protect my family. You willin' to tell me you'd call me a dense, brutish outlaw?"
"No," she shook her head.
"All right then." With a sour squint, he gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. "Can we leave the 'silly little girl' shit in the ocean?"
She grinned with tight lips and nodded. As they continued walking, the sounds of the children's melodious giggles lilted through the air. "Look," she pointed to them, just in time for them to begin splashing each other and taking big stomps through the water.
They walked just a bit more to the quiet sounds of the waves, and Eliza relished the feelings of Arthur weaving his fingers through hers, of the muddy sand squishing between her toes.
She brought her hand up and took her sapphire between her fingers before looking up at him beside her. "How long did you save up for it?"
"For what?" he said, still looking down.
"You told the boys in Saint Denis that you saved up for this," she held it up on its gold chain. "How long?"
With a wry grin, he let his head sag back. "You weren't ever supposed to know about that." He let out a long puff of air. "I started puttin' cash away, oh… You were still pregnant with Hope."
Her brows rose. "Three years?"
Nodding without a word, he brought the back of her hand up to his mouth to kiss it, his fingers still interlaced with hers. Keeping his eyes steadily on hers, he called, "Isaac! Hope! Gettin' hungry yet?"
"Yeah!" they returned.
"Let's head into town, get some supper, find a hotel," he said, growing quieter. "I wanna sleep under a roof tonight."
They did just that, and after their hot meal at the city restaurant, he pulled the wagon to a stop at a nearby hotel. But as they all stood in the hotel room they'd been offered, Arthur shook his head.
"Nah," he said, looking around at the one room with two beds, "this ain't right."
"Look, we can see the seashore from here!" Isaac said with a smile, running up to the window and pointing out at the scenery.
"No, we gotta find a different hotel," he said, tilting his head towards the door. "Come on."
At the next hotel, Arthur told them in the lobby he'd go up and check the room alone to make sure it was adequate, but Isaac tagged along anyway. And when the two of them arrived in the room, Arthur nodded.
"This is much better."
"Eh…I liked the other hotel. It had a better view," Isaac said.
"This one'll do."
"Why?"
"'Cause it's a suite. Look—two rooms connected," Arthur said, showing him the door in the adjoining wall. Shutting it again and glancing back at the door handle, he quickly made sure it could lock.
"Eh…" Isaac scrunched his nose.
"Don't you wanna sleep in your own room?"
"I liked the other hotel better."
"Come on…" he muttered in a gravelly tone under his breath, wiping his hand down over his face. He went and crouched before him. "Isaac, this is the hotel we're stayin' at. And I need you to be a big boy about it."
"Why?"
"'Cause w—" He sighed. "'Cause your mother and I, we haven't…cuddled in a real long time. We need some time and space to cuddle. Understand?"
"Well, what've you been doin' this whole time?" Isaac said in his little voice, lifting his arms and letting them drop.
"Isaac!" he huffed and almost laughed. "We had you two between us every night! How were we ever gonna cuddle like that?"
Isaac's eyes went wide, his expression sober and full of realization. "Ohhhh…" He nodded. "Okay. Sorry, Daddy. We can stay here."
"All right," he wheezed a chuckle. "And I'munna need you to be a big boy tonight, be good an' go right to bed. Right to sleep, no fuss. Yeah?"
He nodded again. "Yeah. I'll be real good. And I'll help make sure Hopie is too."
"Thank you, son," he said with a smirk as he stood and rustled his blonde hair.
After they'd lodged the horses and brought their luggage up to the suite, he was thankful when Isaac remembered his promise, going right to bed without dally and encouraging Hope to do the same.
And that evening Arthur was standing at the dresser of the master bedroom by the rosy light of a kerosene lamp in black trousers and a simple white shirt with the collar open. His heart thumped firmly as he quietly uncorked the bottle of precious imported wine and began pouring the dark purple, almost black liquid into the first of two tall-stemmed glasses.
"I bet your shoulders can hold more than
just the weight of that tiny dress
that I'll help you slide aside
when we get home.
.
I've seen 'em carry family
and the steel drum weight of me,
effortless, just like that dress
that I'll help off.
.
Because I've seen you,
and I know you,
and I'm not goin' anywhere.
.
I bet your back can carry more than
just the weight of your button-down.
One by one, they'll come undone
when we get home.
.
I've seen 'em carry family
and all my insecurities.
One by one, they'll come undone
when we get home.
.
Because I've seen you,
and I know you,
and I'm not goin' anywhere."
.
- Penny and Sparrow, "Duet"
you tu . be /yuuywlPHFuA
"I had…plans for this night," he said quietly, with his back turned to Eliza. "To try to make it real nice."
"Me too."
"Oh yeah?"
"Well, I didn't plan the whole evening…"
Arthur wished he could tap his younger self's shoulder when his eye caught Eliza's direction and he saw what she was wearing. "Uh… You're gonna wanna turn yourself around, buddy."
Still turned, his younger self grinned as he began to pour the second glass. "We could play strip poker. You know who always wins at that."
"It'd take only one hand, with this get up."
Taking a glass in each hand, cupping them underneath the bowls, he turned to her. But his face smoothed, his jaw dropped, and the air left his lungs when he saw her.
She stood there between the bed and the wall with her golden waves down about her shoulders, in nothing but a thin, deep burgundy silken gown that reached all the way to the floor. The subtly shimmery, slip of a thing hung from her shoulders by tiny straps, the neck line plummeting, with extra silk draped loosely between her breasts. And as his eyes traveled over her form, the pert shape of her breasts, the curves of her hips and body were not left to his imagination.
Finally finding his breath, he quickly swallowed the saliva that had pooled atop his cinched throat and blinked feverishly. "Jesus Christ alive."
He hadn't noticed her gnawing nervously at her bottom lip, rubbing the side of her neck under her hair with one hand. "It ain't too…"
"No," he breathed, promptly shaking his head as he came and placed the two glasses gingerly on the nightstand. "It's perfect. You're perfect."
She smiled. "Well, you ain't even seen the whole of it yet!" She began to slowly turn, showing off the nearly absent back. The straps looped over her shoulders and attached to the sides of the gown under her arms, and the back seam came down very low, to the bottom of the small of her back. Every supple crease of every sumptuous muscle in her back was bared to him, right down to the dimples that he knew adorned the top of her plump bottom.
As she turned, his eyes shot wide, and he waved his clenched hands up near his head and briefly bent at the knees in silent exclamation.
"Oh…" he whined when she was almost facing him again. "You can't just whip this out on a poor feller, honey. You're killin' me."
Her smile brightened. "It's the newest negligee fashion, all the way from Paris. Got it in Saint Denis."
"What! Noo… While we were in Saint Denis?"
Tight-lipped, she grinned and nodded.
He huffed and gave a brief tilt of his jaw to the side. "Good ol' Saint Denis."
She came close and rested her hand on his arm, beginning to sway gently as she hummed.
When she went quiet, he swallowed. "You know, sometimes, I look at you, Eliza…" he gave his head a single shake, "and I nearly tremble at the thought of touchin' you."
Her smile softened, and she lifted his hand, holding its back against her palm. "Why," she traced her fingertip down into the hollow of his cupped palm, "when your hands are the perfect shape for me?"
She took his hand and brought it over her breast, sliding it down over her abdomen, around to her back, and lower until his hand was gently cupping her rear.
"Good god, woman," escaped him in a breath.
A grin flickered across her mouth, and she began to open the buttons of his shirt one by one until she could pull it free from his trousers, slide it back off his shoulders, down his arms, and off his body.
As she drew close, he held his breath in anticipation of the feel of her lips. But all at once, she gasped and pulled away.
"Wine?!" she exclaimed at the sight of the pair of glasses.
As she went for the nightstand, his brows drew up weakly as he looked up for a moment.
"You really went all out!"
"Yeah… Got it in Saint Denis," he chuckled. "Supposed to be some kinda real fancy wine they only make in a special part of France. But I guess someone's tryin'a start it up here in Cali."
"Oh?" She brought the edge of the glass to her lips, took a sip, and smiled. "It's fantastic, you gotta try it."
"Wait— Got somethin' else to go with it too." He went into his luggage and dug out the jar of hot pickled okra while she sat on the edge of the bed.
"You thought of everything. Even made sure we had a two-room suite."
He smiled. "Had to strike a deal with your oldest for that one."
"What?"
He wheezed as he walked over with the jar and sat beside her. "Told him Mommy an' Daddy needed to cuddle!" he tried for a serious tone.
"You didn't," she said low with a bright smile. She brought her free hand up to the side of her face. "There's that word again…"
"He was a big boy about it, I was impressed," he said in a high tone. "He understood. Promised he'd be a real good boy, an' make sure Hope was good too when it came time for bed."
She began to shake with quiet laughter. "That explains why they didn't ask for three cups of water and four different stories…"
"Uh-huh," he grinned as he unlatched the lid of the jar and held it out for her.
"Oo, pickled okra…" With her glass of wine still in one hand, she peeked into the jar, dipping her thumb and first finger into the brine to pull one out by the stem.
Arthur watched her closely as she took a bite.
"Mm…you got the hot kind," she mumbled.
"Feel…any different?"
She looked at him and briefly shrugged a shoulder.
"Well, either you're already hot under the collar, or that little Frenchman sold me a false bill a' goods."
"Wha-hat?" she laughed.
But before Arthur knew it, she was looking down at his mouth, leaning forward for him with a bright toothy grin, the glass of wine still in one hand and the okra still held up near her face.
He quickly met her mouth with his, before she could get away, He tasted the spice of the hot okra and felt her breath as she sighed against him. Without pulling away, he set his glass of wine on the nightstand and quickly took both items out of her hands and set them beside his glass. He felt her fingers go to the fly of his breeches, quickly undoing the buttons. Standing up, he pushed them down and shook them from his legs before hopping back up onto the bed on his knees.
She was already in a similar position, the bottom of the silken gown pooling about her knees, already reaching her hand to the back of his neck and drawing him in for another kiss.
He noticed one of her thin straps slipping slowly from her shoulder, inviting and enticing him like nothing he'd ever seen. As they deepened the kiss, he slid his hands up her thighs, pushing the gown all the way up over her head and tossing it on the floor.
"Oh, god… How many times I gotta put myself through this?" Arthur said from the side, wiping a hand down over his face. "I keep dreamin' this way," he grumbled. "So I guess, maybe…there's somethin' about it I'm meant to notice." He walked over to a chair in the shadowed corner. "Just pretend I ain't here," he held up a hand as he sat down, but he caught himself. "Well, 'course you will."
Free from the constraints of the gown, Eliza promptly sat in her husband's lap with her thighs around him in such a way that she'd almost be sitting criss cross if he weren't there.
But as he kissed her deeply, he reclined her onto the bed underneath him. His mouth traveled from hers to the soft space just beneath her chin, where her jaw met her neck, and he spent quite a bit of time there.
"D…don't put a mark that high," she whispered. "The kids'll see it and ask about it."
So he moved from her neck down to her chest just beneath her clavicle, and on to her breasts.
Running her hands freely through his thick hair, she let out a sigh and smiled. "Little lollipop…"
"Huh?"
"Should I tell you? Oh…I tell you everything," she grinned. "The lady at the boutique. She told me, if I wear that negligee, you'd make me your lollipop."
He immediately wheezed against her skin. "What can I say. I know how I like my woman, and I know what my woman likes."
He kissed between her breasts, down her soft abdomen, and went further still. But the further he went, the quicker her breathing became, the more her chest heaved with each breath. And when he finally reached his goal, she shut her eyes, turned her head, and whimpered.
"Arthur…" She quickly brought the back of her wrist up to her forehead as she struggled to catch her breath, listening to the same clicking sounds as when he'd kissed her mouth. "A-Arthur?"
The second was less of a moan and more of an address, and he knew the difference.
"Hm?"
"I… I wanted this night to be about you," she whispered.
He smiled. "I think I had the same idea, but the other way around."
"Well, I…" she swallowed, "I wanna be with you."
He finally propped himself over her by the heels of his hands on either side of her. "You are with me," he said softly, looking down at her. And as she brought her hand up to run her fingers through his hair and tenderly over the features of his face, he pressed kisses into her palm. "You are."
She pushed herself back up to a sitting position with one arm and sat in his lap as she had before.
When they were once again face to face, he brushed her hair back from her forehead. "You wanna look me in the eyes, and feel us together."
She nodded without a word.
"I know you do," he smiled softly.
She leaned in close to kiss him again and again, deepening each kiss as she went. And pulling away just enough for her green eyes to meet his blue-green ones, she reached a hand down between them.
In the next moment Arthur was the one gasping for breath, but the breath he took came from the hollow of her open mouth. He rested his forehead against hers a moment as he slowly caught his breath. But it wasn't long before he was looking back up at her.
She brought her hand to the side of his jaw to kiss him fervently, her fingers splayed wide across his cheek. And their bodies were so close that there was only just enough room for her arm as she did so.
From his shadowed seat in the corner, Arthur watched as they began to make love. He noticed the glint of the diamond on the ring finger of her hand that held him gently by the jaw. He noticed the band on his own finger as his hand traveled up her smooth back into her soft hair. He noticed the way they clutched to each other. And the expressions on their faces—so achingly desperate to be near each other, it actually looked as if they both might cry.
And after, they lied bare and quiet together, the traces of their night scattered all about the hotel room. A Parisian silk negligee in a little heap on the floor, along with his own clothes. Two wine glasses on the nightstand, hardly touched, sitting beside a still open jar of pickled delicacy. And Arthur with his head on the pillow, Eliza beside him, still reluctant to relinquish his mouth, her lips and tongue still clicking with his.
"Mmm…you're spoilin' me," he mumbled into her kiss.
She grinned brightly. "Hm, yeah?"
With the next smacking kiss he added, "Mmm…spoiled rotten!"
She bit her lip and kissed him again.
"Rotten to the core!" he smiled.
She mumbled a giggle before planting little kisses down his neck and finally resting her cheek on his chest.
With his arm wrapped around her, he was tracing light circles on her arm and shoulder. And she was gently raking her fingertips from the hair on his abdomen to the hair on his chest, until her hand rested there beside her cheek.
"You're gonna knock me up again, we go about it like that…Mr. Morgan," she mumbled against his chest. She smiled when a low, gravelly little laugh rumbled up through him.
"Well…an addition to the Morgan clan never does seem to come amiss." He brought his big hand to her back and down past her ribs where her waist dipped narrow, sliding his fingers around and down further, fanning them against her skin where her hip flared out. "Just scares the livin' hell outta me, every time I see you like that."
She took a moment to respond. "Mm…but it's always worth it."
"Sure." He slid his fingers under the hair tucked in her neck and gently pulled it so it was all at her back. Looking down, he watched her feathery lashes, her motionless eyes as she gazed past his chest at the wall. He was happy to lie in the quiet with her. But something about her eyes… He knew she was heavy with the weight of her thoughts. But whether they were grave, or simply profound, he couldn't quite decipher. "Whatchyou thinkin' about, hm? What's goin' on in that pretty head a' yours?"
She rustled her cheek on his chest a bit. "I was just…thinkin' about…our bodies."
"Oh yeah?"
"Mm-hm. How we need 'em to do everything." She lifted her hand from his chest to trace his open palm and dance her fingers through his. "To breathe and live. Even do things like communicate what's inside. If I wanna speak or write, I have to use my mouth or my hands. If I wanna show compassion to another in any way, I have to use my body to do it. Or things like…this… You and me," she glanced up and gestured between them.
He nodded.
Coming out from the shadow, Arthur stood beside the bed and gazed down, watching Eliza continue to bare her heart.
"Or…the children," she shifted to get a better look at her husband's face, and her voice grew heavy and labored. She swallowed and could only get the rest out in a whisper. "Whenever they…put their little hands in mine," she curled her hand towards her chest, "I can feel the trust."
He nodded again. "I feel it every time you and I are together like this." He watched her tender throat as she swallowed hard again, and he threaded his fingers all the way down through hers.
"I guess I was thinkin' that, in one way…my very body is…all I have to give."
Still standing beside the bed, Arthur could see her beautiful, big green eyes begin to fill with a rim of tears. But she wasn't looking at him.
"Goddamn it…" he murmured hoarsely. Knowing he was still nothing more than an invisible mist, he began to try to lean back in a way where he overlapped his younger self. "It should be me. Let it be me…" He got close, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't get the angle right. It wasn't his eyes she was looking into.
He finally straightened, turned, and thrashed the air a bit. "Goddamn it!" he bit out through clenched teeth, his voice cracking a little.
His younger self grinned softly at her, and breaking the hold of their hands, he brushed his fingers back through her cool blonde hair. He gave his head a single short tip. "No one can ever call you a silly little girl, Eliza Morgan."
She grinned meekly and brought her palm to his chest again, nudging him a bit. "You've thought about it too, I know you have."
His smile brightened to match hers, then it smoothed into a pensive grin as he took a deep breath and let it out as he spoke. "Yeah… I've thought about it. I'd give it all for those kids, without battin' an eyelash." He watched her rest her cheek on his chest and close her eyes. "For you too. You know that, right?"
A little grin alighted on her mouth as she snuggled in closer and deeper under his chin.
"You tired? You gonna sleep?" he mumbled quietly.
Still grinning, she nodded up and down against his chest.
"You go to sleep, baby," he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
And she did. But sleep was no friend to him that night. With her beside him, he lied there frozen stiff, as though inwardly tossing and turning. He finally carefully slid out from under her arm so as not to wake her and pulled the sheet up as he sat on the edge of the bed. Sitting there a moment, he scratched the back of his head.
Arthur watched his younger self get up and go to his satchel that sat atop the dresser in the corner, pulling out the journal and sitting in the chair with pencil in hand.
He opened to the first page and ran his fingertips over the words: Arthur & Eliza's Journal. But he flipped all the way to the very back and began writing on the last page.
Unable to stand simply listening to his scribbles, Arthur looked over his shoulder to read in his own sprawling hand:
My sweet, dearest Eliza,
Something's been nagging at me, and I finally realized what it is. It's all those things you said to me, and meant, years ago at our wedding. And I said nothing to you. Seems I can hardly ever say what's deepest inside me. Maybe by the time we get to the end of this journal, I'll be ready. Guess I'm forcing myself to be by then. The way you love me—I know it's real and true. I don't question it. I simply rest in it. I want you to have that.
Darlin, I hate the thought that you could think that all this is, is two friends raising children together. Truth is, sometimes it takes me by surprise and almost scares me just how totally and completely, how wildly I love you. You're never far from my thoughts, waking or sleeping, and I can't stand to be far from you. Everything I do is with you in mind, is for you and the kids.
And you know what? I guess I got years on your vows. Years to talk about you, and how wonderful you've been to me, when I ain't ever deserved it. You do something good inside of me, just by being around you. I've never known anybody to be so gracious and kind. The way I've learned what compassion really means by watching you. The way you smile so bright when you see me. The way you always believe the best in me. What a strong, capable, wise mother you are. And funny as hell. You're beautiful inside and out, and I'll never know how I got so damn lucky. At your best, you're patient and long-suffering, selfless and generous to a fault. At your worst, you've got a one-track mind and are about as stubborn as a mule, though usually right. A real smart-ass with insecurities piled a mile high. But you're always thoughtful and understanding and loving. And I love all of you, every little bit of you.
I have for a long time, a real long time. But I can't pinpoint when exactly it happened. Maybe it was the moment I learned your name, and it's only grown from there. Or maybe it was even before that, when I looked into your eyes. Maybe it was when you first told me you were pregnant, and I knew my life would never be the same. For the life of me, I didn't want to think of it without you. Maybe it was when you first told me what Celtic souls were, and I could see all over your face you were hoping I felt that way about us too. And I did. I knew as soon as I heard it, that's exactly what we are. Overlapping souls, complete now we've got each other.
You and I.
He lifted his head and closed his eyes a moment before looking down to resume writing.
We're so close that when I feel your hand rest on me, it might as well be my hand. When I feel your breath near my face, it might as well be my breath. And when I hear the thoughts of your heart, they might as well be my own.
Eliza, the name on my heart. Sweet love of mine. You ain't just my friend. Far from it.
Only Yours,
Arthur
He dated it and proceeded to draw a sketch of her as she slept, on the adjoining page. Glancing up and back down at the page, he was careful to include the highlights in the waves of her hair, her arm draped across the pillow where he'd been, the way the side of her breast peeked slightly from beneath her arm and above the sheet, and the long, slender dip down the center of her bare back.
He tacked to the bottom of the page a simple A❤ E.
Satisfied, he closed the book, tucked it back into the satchel, and walked back to bed. As he climbed in, Eliza stirred and opened her bleary eyes just a sliver.
The moment she saw him a bright smile lit up her face. "Hey…" she said very groggily as he brought the covers over himself.
"Hey, baby…" he whispered, coming close and tucking his face between her cheek and the pillow.
"Can't tell if I'm still dreamin'," she mumbled with her eyes closed. "Are we in California?"
"Mmm…" He drew back just a bit to look at her face.
With her eyes still closed, she grinned cheekily. "Are you naked?"
A breathy chuckle escaped his nose, and he slinked his arm over her bare waist under the covers. "Yes… Just like you."
"Hmm… Still can't tell."
Lifting himself up just a little with one arm, he hovered over her and gently brought his fingertips to her jaw. He slowly pressed kiss after tender kiss to her soft lips and finally whispered, "Go back to dreamin', sweetheart. Dream of all the beautiful years to come, our bright future together here."
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Sweet Readers,
Thank you as always for being here and for being so wonderful. I sincerely hope you enjoyed the new chapter. 💕
Love to all,
Rosie