Hel Morgan

Book Two ~ Gun Spoke First ~ One

She came awake to the shifting of the mattress, the soft rustle of the sheets as the warm body of her husband settled in next to her. His arm wrapped around her waist drawing her close, his touch gentle as he kissed her shoulder and neck. Sleepily she rolled over slightly to face him, her eyes blurry and tired.

"Hi," she murmured.

"Hi," his lips brushed across hers, then moved along her jaw to her ear.

"Bad day?" she asked, feeling the tautness of his muscles beside her.

"Pretty rough," his words were mumbled against her skin, his breath feathering across her flesh.

"I'm sorry," she felt his arms tighten around her "You want to talk about it?"

"No." his fingers were massaging the smooth curve of her waist, his eyes looking directly into hers "No, I don't want to talk."

Elizabeth Morgan knew many things about her husband and she could always tell by one brief look at his face what sort of mood he was in, or what kind of day he'd had. She knew he took his job seriously, and laid down the law in La Ciudad with a firm hand and no partiality. So now, when he came to bed in the middle of the night waking her without a desire to talk about his day, she knew without having to ask what kind of day he'd had. Somewhere in town tonight, Giovanni Tertullian was putting together a coffin, and by morning the cemetery would have another member in its keep.

Feeling the tension in his back, the stiff muscles of his shoulders and arms, Elizabeth slid her arms around her husband's neck, pulling his face down to hers.

"I'm here," she whispered in between kisses. "I'm here,"

The sun was brutally hot when she opened her eyes the next morning, the curtains facing the backyard open. Already the room was heating up, and Elizabeth knew it would be another unbearably hot day. Southern California was going through a stretch of the worst heat streak in local record, and she found herself wishing for the cool breeze of a seaside city. Groaning inwardly she sat up, looking around. Her husband was already gone, his side of the bed straightened out. She couldn't stop the sigh that escaped her lips, or the heavy feeling of resentment that filled her.

She'd met him six years ago at a ball thrown by her father for all the officers who were awarded honors for bravery and courage during the war. Captain Asahel Morgan was exceptionally honored, his acts of heroism and courage already legendary among his peers. Upon meeting him, Elizabeth had found him a quiet, modest, somewhat self-deprecating man when it came to talking about what he'd done. That he was startlingly handsome and well-built had not hurt her interest in the least, and she'd danced with only him the rest of the evening. His name was a nod to his father's respect for the Bible, and his liking for the account of the Hebrew King David's mighty man by the same name.

Though the men he knew called him Hel, Elizabeth had come to call him Shell, a fond nickname that spoke of how deep he kept his inner thoughts and feelings. He was a hard and impenetrable husk on the surface, but only to her did Asahel Morgan open up completely. She knew him as no one else in the world did. The two had courted and married the following year of their acquaintance, and when her new husband had told her he wanted to go back out west to California, she'd been more than happy to follow along.

"Five years," she said aloud then. "Five years and still..."

She tightened her hand into a fist but did not move it. Outward frustration was simply not a thing a lady gave into, and Elizabeth was always, first and foremost, a lady. She had been born into privilege, taught at the best schools, and raised by a man who accepted appearance and decorum before anything else. She had always had the finest things money could buy, and the freedom that came with being among the southern nobility. Shell was a breath of fresh air to her, and Elizabeth had not minded at all the dramatic and abrupt change in her lifestyle, seeming rather at home with it. But now, five years later, still living from one month to the next, with no property, no home of their own, and no children, she began to wonder if she'd made a rash decision.