Mail Order Bride: Westward Winds, - [best free ebook reader for android .txt] 📗
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“Goodnight, Dean,” Tessa said from under the pillow.
Dean sighed and rolled away from her. “Okay. Goodnight, Tessa.”
Sometime during the night, Dean was woken by hands on his back. He recognized Tessa’s touch and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, good. You’re awake,” Tessa said and smiled. While Dean had drifted off at some point, she hadn’t slept a wink because she couldn’t make her body behave.
Dean laughed. “Yeah, because you woke me up. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just wondering if you were still interested in the other kind of talking,” Tessa said and pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade.
With a deep growl, Dean rolled over to face her and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. When the kiss ended, he said, “What do you think?”
Tessa shook her head. “I don’t want to think. I just want to feel.”
Dean happily complied and they became lost in a sea of passion where all else was forgotten.
What ensued was a strange pause in their fighting. During the day, they were distant and argumentative with each other. Dean tried not to make his brothers or anyone else suffer because of his frustrations. Tessa tried to distract herself from her impatience with Dean by writing.
But at night, when they were alone, they left all of that outside their bedroom door. It seemed as though neither one of them wanted to give up the pleasure they shared. Once the door was shut, their bodies did most of the talking.
Geoffrey didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he didn’t pry. To do so wouldn’t have helped. In fact, it would have made the matter worse, he thought. Seeing the sadness sometimes in his daughter’s eyes was hard. As a father, his instinct was to help his girl and fix what was wrong. However, this was something that he couldn’t fix for her. She and Dean had to work out their differences.
Out of the blue one day, Tessa asked, “Papa, why don’t men listen when women talk?”
Geoffrey chuckled a little. “Because we’re not always as smart as women when it comes to that.”
“Do you listen to Mama when she talks?” Tessa said.
“Mostly, but when I don’t, she makes sure to get my attention so that I do listen,” Geoffrey said.
“How does she do that?”
“In different ways, depending on how aggravated she is with me. Sometimes she scolds me or sometimes she’s playful about it. Why do you ask?” Geoffrey asked.
“I can’t get Dean to really listen to me, Papa,” Tessa said. “He says he wants to talk, but that he’s not ready. How long do I wait?”
“That’s a tough question to answer, Tessa. How long are you willing to wait?” Geoffrey asked.
“Honestly, Papa, I’m not sure how much longer I can wait,” Tessa said.
Geoffrey took her hand. “That’s something you’re going to have to decide, honey.”
Tessa nodded. “I know.”
Dean embraced Tessa that night, but could tell that Tessa’s mind was elsewhere.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he looked into her eyes.
She laid her hand on his cheek and said, “I love you, Dean.”
“I love you, too,” Dean replied with a smile.
His statement caused her heart to speed up. It was the first time he’d said the words to her. If only it were at a better time, it would be perfect, she thought. She smiled and kissed him softly. Then she watched his face as his smile widened. She loved his smile. “When are we going to discuss things?” she asked him quietly.
Dean’s smile disappeared to be replaced by a guarded expression. Again, he’d hoped that it would all be forgotten and, again, he’d been wrong. He knew that Tessa wasn’t going to be put off for forever, even though he wished the problem would just disappear. Dean ran a hand through his hair and said, “I don’t know.”
Tessa eased away from him and rolled over. “Never mind. Sleep well.”
“I’ll be back. Don’t wait up for me,” Dean said as he got out of bed.
As Dean knew he would be, Marcus was still up. His brother was a night owl and sometimes read and whittled long past midnight. Dean thought he heard laughter as he neared Marcus’ house. Roscoe barked upon hearing Twister’s hoof beats and the laughter abruptly ended.
Marcus watched Dean ride into the circle of light from the two lanterns he had burning and was surprised to see his brother.
“Hi. You’re the third visitor I’ve had tonight. What brings you at this time of night? You’re normally in bed by now. Is everything all right?” Marcus said.
“I couldn’t sleep. What were you laughing about?” Dean asked.
Marcus held up a book he’d been reading. “There’re some funny passages in here. How come you can’t sleep?”
Dean jumped up on the porch and settled in a rocking chair near Marcus. “Still fighting with Tessa. Sort of. I don’t know what the hell we’re doing.”
Marcus arched an eyebrow at him. “Sounds complicated.”
“Yeah, it is. It’s my fault right now. I know that and yet, I can’t seem to get past it. I’m a coward, Marcus,” Dean said. “I can’t talk about my feelings. Seth is right about that. How does he know so much about how women feel? He’s the biggest womanizer I know.”
Marcus laughed. “That’s exactly why he understands how women feel or at least why they might feel certain things.”
“Why does this have to be so hard?” Dean said. “I’m gonna lose her and over something so stupid.”
“You didn’t say that to her, did you?” Marcus said.
Dean shook his head. “No.”
“Whew. That’s good. The worst thing you want to do is tell her that her feelings are stupid,” Marcus said. “That will only make things worse.”
“No, I didn’t mean her feelings are stupid. I meant that I’m so stupid,” Dean said. “Shut up, Marcus.”
Marcus swallowed the smart remark on the tip of his tongue.
“This could have been over by now if I could only be brave enough to talk about things. Why can’t I do that?” Dean asked.
Marcus was pretty sure that Dean’s question was rhetorical and stayed silent.
“I mean, I can talk about anything else, but when it comes to what I’m feeling about bad stuff or arguments, I get all tongue-tied. I’m good at being angry and I like being angry sometimes because then I don’t have to face being hurt or sad. Anger is easier for me to express. I can hide behind it, I guess,” Dean explained.
“It’s a defense mechanism, Dean. Look, most people don’t like talkin’ about how they really feel,” Marcus said.
Dean looked at him. “You talk about how you feel all the time. Why is that?”
“I don’t know,” Marcus said with a shrug. “I don’t mind it. Actually, I can’t seem to help myself. They just come out.”
“I wish they did for me,” Dean said.
“They can, Dean, at
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