Part 38 (1/2)
He wanted to know how long she'd had her cough.
She asked about the securing of his land.
He asked if she liked the fabrics he'd bought her.
Averting her eyes, she pulled on a tendril of hair. ”Very much.”
”Have you made anything with them?”
She tossed a piece of crust to one of the ducks waddling along the sh.o.r.eline. ”What exactly was it you wanted me to make?”
A wedding gown. But he couldn't say that. Too late, he realized a declaration of that sort might scare her off. He loved her and he suspected she loved him, but it was their first Sunday drive. A little patience was in order.
”I figured you could use a new petticoat, I guess. Among other things.”
”It was terribly improper,” she whispered. ”Giving me fabric for those kinds of things. We shouldn't even be discussing it.”
He suppressed a smile, though her whispering amused him. The only thing close enough to overhear was the duck, and their conversation wouldn't upset its sensibilities.
”You're probably right,” he said. ”But will you make something just the same?”
She raised her gaze to his. ”Yes.”
The look in her eyes took his breath away and he could no more stop himself than he could stop the sun from setting. Slipping his arm around her waist, he pulled her up against him and lowered his mouth to hers.
She offered no resistance, accepting him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And it was.
The kiss began softly, slowly, then built. He splayed his hands along her back in an effort to touch as much of her as he could. But it wasn't enough. Wasn't near enough.
She encircled his neck with her arms. He skated his palms to her sides, sliding them from the curve of her waist up to her raised elbows, then down again.
A tiny moan from the back of her throat tripled his craving. He pulled his mouth from hers, kissing her jaw, her eyes, her ears, her neck.
Tightening her hold, she pressed herself against him so hard he felt sure the b.u.t.tons marching down her dress would leave imprints on his chest.
Marry me. When could he ask her? How much longer must he wait?
He wrapped his arms completely around her, holding her. Hugging her. Rocking her.
When she began to have difficulty breathing, he reluctantly loosened his hold. Still, she couldn't catch her breath.
He frowned. ”Are you all right?”
She tapped her chest. ”It hurts.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. ”Mine too.”
”No,” she gasped. ”I mean it hurts.”
He reared back. ”Anna?”
Her face filled with panic. She sucked for air, but only made thin, rasping sounds.
”Anna?” His heart began to pound. ”What is it? What's happening?”
Her chest heaved as it struggled for breath. He had no idea what to do. Jumping to his feet, he pulled her up. Maybe standing would make it easier.
She squeezed her eyes shut. He placed her hands on his shoulders for support and she gripped him like a vise.
”Breathe,” he whispered, bracketing her waist with his hands. ”Come on, love. Breathe.”
Her knees weakened. She wasn't turning blue, but he could see she was struggling. A few moments later, her grip loosened, her shoulders relaxed, her breathing grew deeper.
He found his own breath keeping time with hers. When all was normal, he smoothed the hair from her face. ”What happened?”
”I don't know. All of a sudden, I couldn't breathe.”
He blew out a puff of air. ”Well, I've heard of a kiss taking a person's breath away, but I thought it was just a saying.”
Her chuckle turned into a cough.
He pulled her against him, careful to keep his embrace loose. ”Anna, something isn't right. Has that ever happened to you before?”
”Never.”
He tipped her head up with his hand. ”Well, you're going to have to find out what it is, because if that's what's going to happen every time I kiss you, then we have a problem.”
Smiling, she slid her eyes closed. ”I'm sure it's nothing. I must be coming down with something is all.”
Joe wasn't so sure, but he decided not to press her. He'd find the doc before he left town and ask him.
Scooping her into his arms, he headed toward the buggy. ”Well, it's time to go anyway. You rest while I get our things.”
”I can help, Joe. I'm fine now.”
”No. You took ten years off my life. You're going to sit in that carriage and rest.”
She outlined his ear with her finger, causing him to miss a step.
”At least I didn't wrestle with a tree and lose,” she murmured.
He scowled. ”I didn't lose. If I'd lost, I'd be dead.” He deposited her into the seat of the buggy. ”Stay put. This will only take me a minute.”
Scrunching up the blanket, his concern escalated. He'd already lost one wife. He wasn't about to lose Anna, too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.