Early Dawn

by Catherine Anderson

  “What are you doing?” he croaked.

  “Taking my clothes off.” Her lovely blue eyes found his. “A lady has no choice when a man won’t do it for her.”

  Matthew sat frozen as her slender fingers worked their way down the front of the shirt. When the last button came free, he was on his feet without realizing that he’d even moved. He circled the fire pit to grasp her wrists.

  “I prefer to unwrap my gifts myself.”

  She relaxed her arms. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Have I ever mentioned that you’re the damnedest woman I’ve ever met?”

  “I do believe you have.” Her chin came up. “When I thought you were dead, I had two terrible regrets. The first was letting you go without me. The second was that I had missed my chance to know what it would be like to make love with you. Now you’re back, hale and hearty. I’m not a person who likes to make the same mistakes twice. We can’t predict what lies in wait for us around the next turn, Matthew. I don’t want to die without ever being with you that way. Call me bold, but I want to experience it at least once, and, if I’m lucky, many, many times. No need for promises, no need for a ring. I was joking about Ace and the shotgun. I know a huge part of your heart still belongs to Livvy and that you may not be quite ready for all of that. It doesn’t matter. All I ask is that you make love to me.”

  Matthew had never in his life wanted a woman as much as he wanted Eden. When he thought of all the times he’d stood neck deep in ice-cold water trying to squelch his desire for her, he almost laughed. Instead he cupped her sweet face between his hands and lightly brushed his lips over hers.

  “That is a request you won’t have to make twice.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eden expected Matthew to immediately peel away the shirt, and she wanted him to. After lying awake so many times in his arms, yearning for him to touch her breasts, she was eager for it to finally happen. No fears slipped into her mind. No waves of dread crashed over her. This was Matthew, her dearest friend, and now he was about to become her lover.

  She was disappointed when he left the shirt alone and gently pushed her down to sit on the bedroll. Then he hunkered in front of her and set to work unlacing her boots. With two tugs, the boots were gone, and her socks went next. Shifting forward onto one knee, he removed his gun belt and put it aside. Then he settled his big hands over her shoulders.

  “Before we do this, there’s one thing I need to make clear.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, wishing he would just get on with it.

  “There’s only room in my heart for one woman,” he said huskily. “Livvy still has her own little corner, but all the other corners have your name on them now. While I was gone, I said my good-byes to her, and I’ve come to believe she would want it that way. It’s time for me to let go and move on. Not to forget, just to move on.”

  “Oh, Matthew.” Tears gathered at the back of Eden’s throat. She’d naturally yearned to hear him say it, but she hadn’t been sure if he ever would. “Your name is on all the corners of my heart, too.”

  “I know,” he whispered. As he pressed her back into a reclining position on the pallet, he trailed his silken lips over her brow and then kissed her eyes closed. “I love you, Eden. Just you, only you, and as soon as we reach Denver, I’m going to marry you, if you’ll have me.”

  “Do you really need to ask?”

  He settled that fabulously talented mouth over hers and kissed her so deeply her head went muzzy again. Between one breath and the next, Eden felt as if the world were spinning off its axis. This was Matthew, her trusted friend, and she loved him in a way that she’d never loved anyone. There was no room between them for hesitation or shyness, no room for silly last-second doubts. He trailed his lips from hers to trace tantalizing paths to the sensitive place just under her ear. Then he teased the column of her throat with the tip of his tongue. By the time he’d worked his way down to her breasts, the shirt had drifted away somehow. She couldn’t remember him removing it; she knew only that it was gone.

  When his hot mouth closed over one of her nipples, the shock of sensation that rolled through her body had her arching against him. Matthew. His name became like a gentle song in her mind. Every moist touch of his mouth on her breasts, every brush of his work-hardened hands over her skin, felt indescribably wonderful and absolutely right. Eden couldn’t think. She could only feel, and every sensation was just as beautiful as she’d imagined.

  As he teased her breasts, urgency grew within her to touch him, too, and she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, frustrated when her fingers kept losing hold of the fastenings. Freeing one hand, he helped her, and she moaned when her palms finally connected with the warm, well-padded contours of his chest. Eager to learn every line of his body, she slipped her hands to his shoulders. She felt the healing line of the flesh wound on his upper arm and veered away. The layers of roped muscle under his skin were so thick and vibrant that she had to search for bones. With eager fingertips, she discovered his clavicle and traced its shape. But soon that didn’t satisfy her, and she twisted to trace the angular ridges with her lips, her taste buds delighting at the male muskiness of his skin.

  Hungry for more of him, she trailed her mouth lower, and he moaned. “Whoa, honey. Slow down, or this will be over before it starts.”

  Eden barely heard him. She wanted. All of him, she wanted all of him. She felt his heart pounding against her tongue, its fast rhythm echoing her own. The hard ridge of his manhood pressed against her thigh through the denim of his jeans. As if of its own accord, her hand went there. He jerked and sucked in a sharp breath. Then he moaned again. She realized dimly that her touch was as arousing to him as his was to her, and she slid her fingers under the waistband of his pants, frustrated by the belt buckle that interfered with her aim.

  “Sweet Lord.” His breath came hard and fast near her ear. She felt him fumbling with his belt and unfastening his jeans. “You’re gonna be the death of me, girl.”

  A rush of delighted satisfaction went through her when her hand could finally curl around his hard, pulsating shaft. He jerked at her touch and muttered a curse under his breath, his voice thick and throaty with pleasure. Then he went after the rope at her waist and was soon jerking off her jeans. When his fingers found the hot, wet center of her, Eden’s whole body snapped taut at the thrill of sensation that jolted through her. She didn’t think anything could feel better, nothing, but Matthew proved her wrong with light, repetitive strokes over a sensitive place. Soon, way low in her belly, a quivery, electrical feeling began to build within her. Eden knew she was moving toward something, that Matthew was determined to take her there.

  “Matthew?”

  “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Trust me, sweetheart. Hold on to my neck and just let it happen.”

  Eden did as he asked, trusting him with all her heart, but the feeling that mounted within her was so intense it was almost frightening. He knew just how to touch her. With expert strokes, he pushed her over the edge, making her gasp and then tremble. She couldn’t see, could barely think. It was the most wondrous experience of her life.

  When she lay spent and quivering in the aftermath of orgasm, Matthew rose over her, his arms braced next to her shoulders, his chest a rippling bronze canopy above her, the healing wounds from the cougar attack barely visible. In the firelight, he looked like a carving of seasoned oak, and as she gazed mistily up at him, she knew God had fashioned every line of him just for her. He parted her thighs to get his knees between them. Eden had been on horse ranches enough to know what came next, and she knew this first time might be painful for her. But she wasn’t afraid.

  Suspended in position, Matthew hesitated. In the swirl of firelight and descending darkness, his blue eyes locked on hers. “Damn, honey, I don’t want to hurt you, but there’s nothing I can do to prevent it.”

  “It’s okay, Matthew. I don’t think it’ll hurt that much.”

  He shoved forward with
his hips, and Eden gasped at the knifelike pain.

  “Shit,” he said.

  “It’s . . . okay.” Afraid he might pull away, she locked her arms around his neck again. “It’s over, Matthew. It’s okay.”

  Tension eased from his body like water being poured from a cup. “You’re sure?”

  Eden nodded, amazed that she was telling the truth. The pain had been horrid, but he’d done it so quickly that it had ended almost before it started. Inside she felt hot and full, but it no longer really hurt. She hooked her calves around his thighs, aware as she did of the rub of his denim pants against her heels and ankles. When she pushed up with her hips to meet him, his muscles bunched in his shoulders, and his chiseled features contorted, his lips drawing back on the right side of his mouth to reveal a white blaze of clenched teeth. A shock of dark brown hair fell over his forehead, gleaming in the firelight.

  Finally succumbing to the needs of his own body, he began to move within her. Eden braced for more pain, but instead a ribbon of pleasure streaked through her. She pushed with her hips to meet his thrusts, inexperience setting her off rhythm at first, but she soon moved in unison with him.

  “Come with me,” he whispered raggedly.

  This time, Eden wasn’t surprised as urgency and delight started to mount within her. She accepted his invitation and went with him, knowing their destination would be heaven on earth.

  Afterward they lay exhausted in each other’s arms, too breathless to even talk for a while. Feeling content in a way she’d never imagined possible, Eden snuggled close to him and listened to the crackle of the fire.

  When they had finally recovered enough to speak, Matthew broke the silence. “I wanted your first time to be perfect.”

  “It was,” she protested, unable to comprehend how he could think otherwise.

  “I made love to you wearing my damned boots.”

  He sounded so disgruntled that Eden pressed her face into the hollow of his shoulder to stifle a giggle.

  “You think that’s funny. I never got my dad-blamed britches all the way off. The first time is supposed to be slow and easy.”

  “Why?”

  “Just because, that’s why. I never should have let you take me there.”

  Eden smiled sleepily. “Do I get a vote?”

  “No, I’m bigger than you, and my vote carries the day. It was my job to make sure your first time was perfect.”

  “It was, at least for me. Wasn’t it perfect for you?”

  “Pretty damned close,” he finally admitted. “I’ve just never made love to a virgin with my belt buckle clanking on my knee.”

  Eden burst out laughing, and soon he was laughing with her. When their mirth subsided, she said, “When we settle somewhere, I want that belt, Matthew.”

  “What for?”

  “So I can frame the buckle as a memento of the most wonderful night of my life.”

  He rolled over to hold her close. With the heat of their passion fading, they had become vulnerable to the chill evening air. He fumbled for the blanket and drew it up.

  “Maybe the most memorable night of your life,” he told her, “but not the most wonderful; I promise you that. Next time, I’ll make love to you slow and proper.”

  It was a promise that Eden wholeheartedly hoped he would keep. As it happened, she didn’t have to wait long. After they rested, he made love to her again, this time without his boots and jeans on. What he did to her and what he taught her to do to him was so sweet and indescribably intimate that Eden knew she was going to blush every time he looked at her tomorrow, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying every sensation or glorying in the climactic conflagration that followed.

  Afterward, they slept the exhausted sleep of small children who’d played too hard, arms and legs entangled, bodies pressed close for warmth. When Eden awakened, it was early dawn, and Matthew was nibbling at the underside of her breast. She became instantly aroused, and they made love once again in the rosy pink glow that streaked the eastern sky. Eden wished this time between them would never end, but she had to settle for cherishing the moment, which was once again beautiful and immeasurably sweet.

  Later they fixed breakfast together, and then she cleaned up the mess while Matthew prepared the animals for the trail. Far too soon to suit her, he’d fetched their meat from the stream, hung the bundle from a pack frame, and was erasing all sign of the camp. Sadness swamped Eden, because this had become their special place, and now they would never see it again.

  “What?” Matthew asked.

  She explained why she felt sad. Matthew grinned. “We’ll find a new special place.”

  “Never one as special as this.”

  “Oh, yes, we will. I plan to make love to you in a lot of different places, and every single one will stand out in your memory. Give me a year, and then you can decide which spot is your favorite.”

  After he’d feathered away all their tracks, he strode over to Herman. Eden saw him take his watch from his pocket and stow it away in one of the packs.

  “What are you doing?” she called.

  “It’s time for it to be put out to pasture,” he said.

  Eden’s heart caught. “No, Matthew. You get that watch out of there and put it back in your pocket.”

  “I don’t need a watch out here. I use the sun. And I shouldn’t be carrying an engraved timepiece from my first wife.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it isn’t right.”

  “Who says? Livvy was a huge part of your life. That watch is very special to you. I’m serious. I want you to carry it.”

  “And be reminded of her every time I look at it?”

  “Yes.” Eden turned her horse so she could meet his gaze. “She deserves to be remembered. I don’t feel threatened by that, and I’m going to be very upset if you start hiding everything that reminds you of her.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Get the watch back in your pocket.”

  “I think it’d be better if I just tuck it away.”

  Eden recalled her wish to be loved someday the way that Matthew had loved Livvy. If she encouraged him to forget his wife, she wouldn’t deserve to be remembered herself. There had to be room in their relationship for his memories of Livvy, and it was her job to provide that room.

  “Please, Matthew. It’s difficult for me to explain how I feel about the watch, but it’s important to me that you carry it in your pocket.”

  He sighed and retrieved the timepiece. As he slipped it into his coat pocket, he said, “You happy now?”

  “Yes. That’s where it belongs.”

  He searched her gaze, his eyes going dark with emotions she couldn’t name. Then his throat worked as he struggled to speak. “You’re crazy, you know it? If you had something special from some man you once loved that you carried around in your pocket, I could never handle it.”

  “Call me crazy if you like, but it’s how I feel.”

  When they were well away from the cave area and Matthew had erased their tracks, they rode their horses side by side across meadows that nestled like lush green carpets between stands of trees. On the grass, they didn’t have to worry so much about leaving a trail, and Matthew relaxed. Reins grasped in one hand, he drew out the watch to check the time, then slipped it back in his pocket without touching the engraved lettering.

  “I have to ask you something,” he said huskily. “When I was gone, I had this bad moment one night, thinking how upset I’d be if I thought for even a second that you still loved John. I think knowing that would make me crazy, and it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that you feel so different. I thought you’d be pleased if I stopped carrying the watch, and I can’t understand why you weren’t.”

  Eden struggled to explain. As the words came pouring out, she knew she was making a mess of it, talking in fits and starts and never really completing a thought. She finally gave up on making any sense and just plunged into it.

  “It’s just this
feeling I have.” She fisted her hand and pressed it over her heart. “Love is a miracle, Matthew, a precious gift from God. When we receive that gift, even if it’s for only a short time, as happened to you and Livvy, it’s no less wonderful and precious. If I encourage you to toss it away or hide it—well, if I were instrumental in causing you to do that, I’d feel as if I’d committed a terrible sin, not murder, exactly, but almost as bad. You loved her. With all your heart. She was carrying your child when she died, so a part of you died with her, and a part of you lies with her in that grave. I think it’s important that we both remember Livvy.”

  “Both of us? You never met her.”

  “No, but I feel a connection with her because now I love you the same way she does.”

  “She’s dead. You talk about her as if she isn’t.”

  “Dead, yes, but none of us ceases to exist when we die. At least, I don’t believe we do. Livvy still loves you, and now so do I. Love that ends isn’t really love. Maybe I’m all confused in my head, but it seems to me that everything we now have between us will somehow be less if I allow you to forget her. I never want you to forget me, that’s for certain. Does that make any sense?”

  He took off his hat to run his fingers through his glossy dark hair. “Honey, I will never forget you. If you died today, and all God gave me was the little bit of time we’ve had together, I’d still never forget you. How could I ever?”

  “Then don’t pretend to forget Livvy and the child you lost, Matthew. I’m uncomfortable with that.”

  He rubbed a fist over his scarred cheek. “I’ve always wondered if it was a girl or a boy. We tried for so long, almost five years, and I had started to think one of us had something wrong. I wanted kids—I wanted them really bad—but if we hadn’t been able to have them, I would have loved Livvy anyway. I figured, coming from such a big family, that my brothers and sisters would eventually give us plenty of nieces and nephews to love. But she would have none of that. She wanted to give me my own child, and she was in a constant dither about it. Every time she got her curse, I’d come in from work to find her face all puffy from crying.”