Sabine had heard the term over the years of people doing the “walk of shame” when leaving their lover’s arms. There was no shame in being married to Jack. It was the applause they received as they walked down the stairs of the hotel from the staff that caused any embarrassment for her. She knew that the bed had squeaked a lot and had worried about this very thing. Jack had no qualms whatsoever. He grinned from ear to ear proudly, asking for the owner. He boldly demanded that the squeaky bed frame be delivered to his home this very afternoon.

“Oh my gosh,” Sabine said, mortified and covering her face. “Jack, stop it.”

“I plan on making it squeak every night I am home with you,” he teased, picking her up and twirling her around on the landing just outside the hotel. “And I don’t mean the shithole of a cabin either. Let’s go home.”

“Why on earth did you let me believe that was your home?” she asked, placing her hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Because that is what you chose to assume.”

“And you let me? You could have said something.”

“I could have, but it’s never been my intent to make you do something you don’t want. I believe it’s time for you to have something of your own. A sense of security and peace.”

“What makes you think that I don’t?”

“The way you pull back at times from me.”

“Just like you pulled away from me when you thought I was a boy?”

“Exactly. I couldn’t figure out why the desire was there, only that it was present but wrong. I fought it knowing there had to be more to it all.”

“So, you let me assume that shack was your home because it was a test? You wanted me to assume there was more to you?”

“No, I wanted to know you wanted me – regardless of my station, my life or my home.”

“So basically, a test?”

“Wasn’t your dressing like a boy a test of some sorts?”

“No, well… I guess it could be looked at that way if you want to spin it like that.”

“I’m not trying to irritate you, my bride. Rather, let you know that if you will trust me to do right by you, I will. We are a couple, now and forever. We’ll do everything together in our lives.”

“Then whisk me away, Husband,” she said dramatically, lying her hand on her forehead in a mock faint. “Take me home and do what you will.”

“Hallelujah,” he teased, wrapping his arms around her again.

They rode out of town and quite some ways. This time, he had her on horseback with him. The other horse was tethered nearby. It wasn’t like before where she rode behind him, clinging for dear life. This time? This time was almost seductive. Jack carried her in front of him on the horse, his arms wrapped around her tenderly. Her head rested on his shoulder as they swayed with the horse’s gait.

“Jack, why wasn’t it like this before?” she whispered, as she felt his hand climb the front of her dress.

“Darling, there was no way I would touch you before like this,” he chuckled. “You had me good and fooled. I don’t know how I could have ever thought you anything other than a seductress. But yes, you had me doubting my sanity.”

On the lone road, she gasped as he unbuttoned her dress and slipped his hand inside to cup her breast boldly. She could feel his body against hers and knew that he was enjoying the movement against each other as much as she.

“Jack,” she breathed, reaching her arm upwards to cup his head as he kissed her neck tenderly. “How much farther have we got?”

“I’m in no hurry,” he reassured her, yanking her skirts upwards to find her very center. The feeling of the sun’s rays on her bare skin was sinfully exciting and, combined with the heat of his hands, exhilarating!

“Well, I certainly am,” she gasped as his hand began to work its magic. “Jack, stop. Someone will come by or see us!” Sabine tried to pull her skirts back down to hide her body, feeling exposed.

“They had better not or they’ll be shot for trespassing,” he growled, nipping at her earlobe. “This is our land.”

“Ours? Then we are close by?” she panted, arching against him. The attraction that was growing between them was intoxicating. She imagined this is what an addict must feel like. To have something, the idea of wanting it with a passion and never filling that craving. To think it started with a simple touch of his hand after being pulled from the world she knew.

“Close? Oh yes,” he agreed, pulling the horse to a stop. “Close, but not close enough.” He yanked the reins to the right, leading the horse off the road towards a thicket of trees.

“Oh?” she said wickedly, seeing his eyes darken with desire and the promise of pleasure.

“I never claimed to be good enough for you.”

“No, but I think you may be perfect for me,” she said softly, unbuttoning her gown as they descended down to the grove of trees.

Jack dismounted and tied the horse. He pulled her bodily from the horse into his arms. The top of her dress gaped wide open revealing her pale skin just above the camisole. She saw his eyes glance down towards the creamy expanse of skin, just before his eyes met hers. His lips crushed against hers as he carried her into the shadowy grove. Tall grasses and bushes around the trees would hide their interlude easily from the road.

Later that afternoon, they rode a short distance from their hidden idyll. After they had crested the hill, Sabine saw a large grove of trees. As they drew closer, she realized that there was a structure hidden back in the tree line. No wonder the clerk had laughed at the idea of Jack Noble’s home being a shack. Comparing it to some of the other homes she had seen during their brief excursion into the city, few looked as opulent as this house. It looked like something you would see out of Architectural Digest. It wasn’t a very large house, but the sheer beauty of it made up for anything that might be remotely missing. Great, sweeping porches ran from one end of the house to the other, framed with delicate bannisters. Pale shades of yellows and greens contrasted beautifully on the house, making it seem glamorous yet comfortable.

“This is your home?” she gaped as she took in the sight. Curls of wrought iron reminded her of pictures of the French Quarter. But instead of moss laden trees, there were large pecans that looked hundreds of years old that stood nearby. The house must have been built in the center as to not lose any of the precious shade for the summertime.

“If you prefer the shack…” he began and Sabine quickly stopped him.

“Heck no! This is gorgeous! Why would you ever let me think that was going… that we would be living there? You must have had a good laugh at my expense.”

“I was more curious to see what you would do or say.”

“Well, now I certainly am curious! Does being a Volunteer pay that well? I mean, seriously? Where I come from, volunteer has a completely different meaning.”

“My family raised and ran cattle for quite a while until they decided to go back East. The house was built for my mother though she said it was not what she wanted. She wanted modern and lavish. This wasn’t it,” he said with a shrug.

“It looks pretty posh to me,”

“My parents had heard of the advances in construction and plumbing back East, but it wasn’t available here yet. Mother didn’t care that she wasn’t welcomed because of her Tejano complexion. She said that if she was going to live a rich life, she would be sure to have it all. They left and I stayed,” he stated bluntly, no signs of regret or pain in his words. It was just that simple to him. “To me? This was home.”

“It’s beautiful. Honestly, it looks incredibly modern compared to sleeping near a campfire.”

Dismounting, Jack took Sabine’s hand and led her into the house. The affluent exterior did not match the finished interior. It looked like it was complete, yet not. She had seen photos before of great, old homes with lush painted murals or textured wallpaper. This lacked all the décor… the trimmings. It was far from plush, but lovely nonetheless. Plaster walls and large, paned windows made it feel light and airy, even though it was obvious it had remained closed for some time. The air was thick inside and opening the door stirred up a bit of dust. Small pieces of furniture did not fill the rooms, nor did they look out of place. The house simply did not look very lived in. Even the wood floors showed few markings of scuffing or scratches.

“You aren’t here much, are you?” she asked quietly as the realization dawned on her. He didn’t live here most of the time. Did he plan on leaving her alone here and taking off once again? That was something they had never really discussed. She had assumed that when he asked her to marry him so quickly, that he had a change of heart and was ready to settle down. With her.

“I haven’t been, no.”

“How long do you stay gone when you head out?” she asked quietly, feeling a bit sick to her stomach as she saw him dropping his saddlebag onto a wooden bench that ran the length of the hall.

“Sabine,” he said gently, taking her hands in his. “I have a duty to the Volunteers and I have a duty to my wife. I plan on only going when I have to.”

Nodding, she felt vaguely uncomfortable at being left alone. “You’ll need to teach me how to shoot. I hate guns,” she admitted and reminded him again. “I’m pretty sure that if the need arose, I could point it in the right direction but I’m not sure if I could pull the trigger.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said absently as he walked off down the single hallway. She saw he was glancing in several rooms and then ran up the large staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

“Are you looking for something?”

“Just checking to make sure its empty and that there are no squatters. I’m gonna make sure there is a place for our new bed when it arrives, too,” he called down. Flushing with embarrassment, she said nothing and just looked around her new home.

Glancing in the kitchen area, she saw the lack of modern “essentials” that homes in her time had. No microwaves, no fridges. She was surprised at how pleased she was simply seeing a pump and basin that would serve as a sink. A grand cast iron stove cook stove took up a good portion of the wall. Curved black claw feet and silver trim made it look almost ornamental in nature. The kettle and skillet on top showed that it was actually used. While it might not be a microwave, it was a definite improvement over an open fire. A sideboard held a few dishes as well as a few cups sitting upside down on a shelf. Large glass jars held what looked to be sugar, coffee and flour.

“Different. Yet some things never change,” she whispered aloud to herself as she saw that it was almost similar to her own glass jars she had on her countertop. She had thought Jack would change and stay with her. Yet, here he was admitting he would leave. The males her friends had dated had, in their ways, picked up and left. Would he be the same? Had she fallen into the same mold as the others?

Jack emerged from the stairs after inspecting the upper floors with a wide smile. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek happily, causing Sabine to pull back and look away. She wasn’t a plaything to be used and tossed aside. A toy to pull out and play with when he wanted to. She was a person, a woman, his wife because he asked and she fell right into his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a bit tired,” she fibbed. Boy, if that wasn’t a fake line she didn’t know what was! “I think it’s the travel and excitement of the day. Maybe I should lay down.” At his sudden grin, she tagged on, “Alone.”

Seeing his crestfallen look, she knew she had surmised correctly. He had wanted to make lo - eh hem! - fool around. Love wasn’t a light switch nor a term to be bantered around lightly. She had meant her words the other day. But his actions did not back up his words. Her body and heart weren’t his to be flicked off and on, dammit. She ached to reach out and touch him, to have him touch her… but that was because she felt a bond. The bond must be simply one-sided if he intended to leave again when called upon. She craved contact with him, and had mistakenly thought he was wanting the same.

Shoulders sagging, she stepped away and walked up the stairs. No tour of her new home, no enthusiasm. It was her alone in a new location, a new place yet again. This song and dance routine was getting old. First Eve, now Jack. She heard his voice mutter something downstairs before slamming the door to the house. The stillness of the musty rooms felt so hollow, so barren, like her soul. Finding a small trundle bed in a room, she cracked open the window and lay down, numb. Staring at the plaster wall, she felt hot tears slip down her face into her hairline. Things between them must be so fragile and tender. She had turned him away and he had left.

Because of her.