The Major's Wife(92)By: Lauri Robinson
As he took her hands, crawled onto the bed beside her, she whispered, “Welcome home, Major.”
Their union was a turbulent combination of love, passion and infatuation, as well as a blending of lives, old and new, past and present. It left Millie breathless, spent and eager, knowing there were now years ahead of them. Years upon years.
With her head on his shoulder, twirling a fingertip in the fine hair on his chest, she whispered, “Seth?”
“What am I going to do once we get to the fort?”
“What do you mean?”
“They all think my name is Rosemary. How am I going to tell them it’s Millie?”
He tugged her onto his chest with both arms, settled her there, lying fully atop him. “We’ll tell them the truth. That you traveled to the fort for me to sign the divorce papers, and we fell in love.”
She loved him all the more for making things sound so simple, yet had to say, “That’s not exactly—”
“That’s how I remember it.”
He kissed the end of her nose and then sighed, understanding she needed more of an answer.
“How many people called you Rosemary?”
Searching her mind, she finally said, “Well, no one really. They either called me ma’am, Mrs. Parker or the major’s wife.”
“Mrs. Parker,” he whispered, kissing her again.
A lovely sigh left her chest, for it was a wonderful name. “What if they hear you call me Millie? What if—”
“You worry too much,” he said, kissing her chin this time. “No one knows what happened. We can leave it that way if you want. Even the few that do know will never say anything.”
She bit her bottom lip.
“What is it?”
It was a silly thing to worry about when everything else was so perfect, but she had to admit, “I want to be me. Millie.”
“Oh, darling,” he said, kissing her lips lightly. “You’ve always been Millie. Your sister would never have traveled out here, not by train or wagon. She’d never have befriended Briggs’s maidens, or Per-Cum-Ske’s wives, or even Ilene Ketchum.” He kissed her again. “But most of all, she’d never have become the perfect army wife.”
Millie’s heart swelled, and all she could do was whisper, “I love you.”
“I know, and I love that about you, too,” he said, running both his hands down her back.
“We could tell everyone Per-Cum-Ske traded your name for a new one.”
That made her laugh. “I heard about the white wig.”
“You did? From whom?”
His hands were working their magic again, sparking miniature fires wherever they touched, and it was a moment or more before she could answer. “Mr. Williams, the porter.”
“I can’t believe we were on the same train, all those days.” He held her hips firmly against his. “All those nights.”
The feel of him pressing against her belly had her desire sparking again. “You’re making me fuddle-headed,” she admitted, nuzzling his chest with her chin. It would be like this forever. One look and she’d be racing up the stairs to the bedroom at the fort as fast as Per-Cum-Ske’s wives did to their tepees.
“Oh, no,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows.
“Mrs. Ketchum. I forgot her list. All the things—”
“I remembered them,” he said. “They’ll be on the wagons in the morning.” He lifted her then, pulled her forward until her breasts were within easy access of his lips.
“Seth,” she groaned, the sensations making her arch into him. “We were talking about my name, what I’m going to tell people.”
“No,” he mumbled, since his mouth was full. “You were talking.”
She had to agree, but could barely nod, and then, within no time, forgot all about her name. What mattered was who she was—the major’s wife.