by Tanya Hanson
It was hard to resist the child. His demeanor all day had been one of cheerful excitement, but he hadn't convinced her that his bad dreams had diminished. The soft warmth of another living creature was sure to keep him good company.
But Clem had warned otherwise, temporarily.
“Sweetheart, Clem says the pup can do his business outside, but we were gone all day and couldn't practice with him. Won't you let him keep Dicey company in the barn for a night or two, just until we're sure? You know what a special day this has been for Dicey. She needs a friend, too.”
Ned opened his mouth, but she said, “No. You and Uncle Brix are not sleeping in the barn with them. You can cuddle with your toy dog, all right?”
“All right.” He nodded, weariness clouding his big blue eyes. “I love them both.” Bending down, he caressed the puppy into a wriggling ball of happy fur.
“Now, clean your teeth and get to bed. Uncle Brix will be in to tuck you both.” It had become Brixton's special tradition with the children, and her heart warmed again. He wasn't leaving. It wasn't forever, but at least they had a while. And he would cuddle her each and every night until he went. There'd be no more barn or bedroll sleeping for her husband.
She was already naked under the covers, filled with a tumultuous anticipation greater than any of the other times, when she heard Brixton begin the children's lullabies. Soon, he came in the bedroom bearing a lit candle, and she quivered deliciously at the sight of him.
“This was quite a day.” He smiled down at her as he slid from his clothes. In the candle glow, she saw how ready and willing he was. She rose up on one elbow, her right hand extended to caress his turgid flesh.
“No, Minda. It might be time...” He looked away for a second.
Alarm flared. His manhood raged but his voice sounded unsure, somehow. She drew her hand away almost in shame. Did he want to prevent a child?
“Minda, what I mean is, I want you to hold me, there. Like you do. But sometimes a woman pleasures her man. Like I pleasured you, with my mouth.”
“You mean?” Her wonder increased. But instead of waiting for further instruction, she moved toward his manhood and he stood as close as he could to the bedside. His manhood angled perfectly toward her mouth. For a second, she looked close up at the length and hardness and the heat, and her womanhood tightened.
She met his eyes with a little nod and bent to blow out the candle.
“No, don't.” His hand landed on her hair. “It's a special thing between a man and wife, Minda. I want to watch.”
With a maidenly gulp, she took the length of him inside her mouth, her tongue tickling the tip that had taken her virginity with such firm gentleness. Remembering his thrusts, she moved her head back and forth, keeping him from her teeth. At his groans, her nipples ached for his touch, and her emptiness below was almost excruciating. But she wanted to be generous. This moment was for him. For a flash, she let him slip out so her tongue could travel the length of him, and that was when his knees buckled.
“Oh God, Minda.” He choked almost desperately.
With no chance to stroke her own magic places, he plunged deep into her core. She gasped, for she was still nearly as tight as a maiden, but she was ready. Already her body knew how to respond to him, this man, her husband. Her thighs wrapped about his waist, and she matched his force and motion. Her blissful spot exploded just as his face shuddered in what she knew was the moment his seed reached the richness of her womb.
He blew out the candle with another of his wicked smiles and climbed in beside her. He fell sleep almost at once, holding her as if he'd never let her go.
For Minda, sleep took a while coming. She was satiated. Brixton had made her a woman all the way, and a wife as well as he knew how. But her happiness had a sprinkle of sadness.
Just after sunup, she woke, hearing the puppy's plaintive whines all the way from the barn. It was nearly time to milk Mabel. She grinned to herself. Brixton was an awfully good teacher in so many ways. As she dressed, she watched the shadows of him sleeping tight in the tussled bedclothes. The memory of their love sport started her breathless and nearly moaning.
The purple gown he liked could last another day of chores, but Minda promised herself she'd head for the mercantile and buy a new length of dress goods as soon as she could. Shafts of dawn from the window above the loft brightened the barn as did the large open door. Even still, she couldn't see the little dog anywhere. But his whimpers touched her heart. He wasn't on the blanket she'd shaped into a bed for him, but no way had he gotten into the horse or cow stalls.
Then, above her, mixed in with the mews of the barn cats that inhabited the loft, she heard agitated whimpers. Why on earth had Brixton put the pup to bed in the loft, chancing that the poor little thing would come tumbling down? She'd definitely have to speak her mind.
“I'm coming, little one,” she crooned, as she started up the ladder, wondering if Brixton had built this, as well. It was firm and strong.
“Come right on up, little lady. I'm sitting here awaiting,” hissed a terrible voice as she reached the top rung. A strong hand gripped her hair and pulled her into the loft, then let her go. She sank into a heap, heart pounding with indescribable horror. Her lips parted.
“And I suggest you don't scream. ‘Less you want this dog skinned alive right in front of you.” Hot smelly breath shaped the words as the intruder held a knife to the belly of the squirming dog. He was young, but his smirk was brown with missing teeth.
She hesitated. Her lungs held no air. Her blood had stopped running. Even the hair on her head tensed, although he no longer had his miserable fingers on it.
“Who are you? What is this about?” she finally asked. His filthy eyes roaming her up and down made her feel like she needed a bath.
“Name's Delaware Peavy, ma'am. You can all me Del. That man you just sent on to jail, why, Brentwood and me are cousins. And you're gonna pay.”
Her throat tightened like it had a noose around it. Sacrificing the puppy was not as terrible an option as costing her own life, but she couldn't give in without a fight.
“You men are horse thieves. What do you want with a dog?”
“Dog don't matter. A ruse to get you up here. Busted the lock easy and saw you coming out here with your milking pail. I figured then and there your horses aren't enough. I want you.”
“But the Perkins gang...”
“Ahab and his cronies don't mean a thing. We just rode with them for a week or two. It's always been Del and Brent. But now I'm alone and it's your fault. And it's been an age since I had a woman.” He leered as his knife point nicked the puppy's tender flesh. A stream of blood trickled to the straw, and the animal yelped.
Minda's disgust and fury outweighed any fear. She'd dealt with this man's cowardly cousin not long ago. Her husband had taught her well.
“Oh, Peavy. Put down the dog. At least be a man.”
“Don't give me orders, little lady. I am all man.” His smirk disgusted rather than terrified her. “I'm gonna have some fun with you. Slice up this dog then slit your throat and nab those horses ‘afore your man gets out of bed.”
Minda held on to her composure. “If you honestly think that, you're terribly wrong.”
Her sitting position was actually a fortunate one. It was easier to lift her skirt and reach for the gun Brixton had suggested she always keep with her.
Her actions were quick. But Peavy was just as quick. He tossed the dog away and grabbed her ankle.
“Ah, no you don't, little lady.”
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* * *
Chapter Sixteen
Brix stretched, missing Minda. Her side of the bed wasn't warm anymore, but he still smelled those roses on the pillow they'd shared. Milking time. His manhood rose in morning joy as he remembered claiming her soft body in the straw, and last night, loving her special heat.
The kids were all asleep. Thrilled at the opportunities ahead, Brix slipped into trousers an
d boots and set out for the barn. The dawn breeze teased his bare nipples and tightened them, but nothing compared to Minda's fingertips.
From somewhere inside the barn, the pup whined. Probably needed its breakfast. His forehead furrowed a bit. It wasn't like Minda not to tend any needy thing. Stepping through the barn door, he heard scuffles and the loud grunts of struggle coming from the loft.
“Minda? You all right?” He ran for the ladder, unease clawing his back. His lungs breathed more dread than air.
“Brixton, he's got a knife,” Minda shrieked. A boot kicked the ladder to the ground.
“And don't you go raising that ladder up, mister.” A pocked-face, skinny man rose on his knees and yanked Minda's long hair until she was dragged to the edge of the loft. Her eyes met Brix's with a message he tried hard to read.
Brix lunged on instinct alone.
“Now, now,” the man taunted, holding Minda tight with a knife at her neck. “Won't take much to slit this pretty little throat.”
Blood trickled down Minda's white skin and turned black on the purple dress. Sweat drenched Brix, and his heart slammed hard against his ribs. A good twenty feet separated them, and for now, he had no way up. Minda would be murdered before he could lift the ladder, much less climb up.
Unless she wore a gun like he'd told her.
“Del Peavy at your service, mister. And damn ready to service your woman. Now, now, missy,” the man said to Minda, “seems your man taught you well, that gun on your leg. Too bad you couldn't get past ole Del to reach it.” His empty eyes stared down at Brix in a measuring way. “Hmm. Your man came out here unprotected. More's the pity.”
Brix's spirits crashed to the soles of his feet. Minda had lost her weapon. Dismay turned to mortal dread. Once again, he might lose something he hadn't known he wanted to keep. Who was this Peavy? Somebody left behind by Ahab Perkins?
Minda had been grabbing for the man's knife, but now she stopped and sank into the straw, lowering Peavy's knife arm along with her. But Peavy still knelt tall, smirking down at him. Minda looked down at Brix with determination.
Truth to tell, her face was full of feistiness, not defeat or fear. And then he knew what her wide eyes and small nods told him. She was remembering the knife he always kept in his boot.
She was getting out of his knife's way as well as she could. “Not much of a man, here, Brixton. Threatening to kill a little dog. And a woman.”
Peavy scowled at her insult, eyes off Brix and his guard down as he nodded. “Worked though, didn't it, lady? Don't think your man's gonna like—” His knife blade sliced off her top button. “—what I do next.”
Brix's teeth ground with a loud noise, seeing the man's hands on his wife. But with the knife off her neck, Minda wrenched free and punched Peavy's nose with her fist. Quick as lightning, Brix raised his left knee and slipped his hand into his left boot at the same time. His knife sliced through the air in an upward arc, meeting its aim.
Peavy groaned, breathless, at both impacts and slumped into the straw.
Heart thundering like hoof beats, Brix took deep breaths to calm down as he climbed the ladder. In the few seconds it took him to reach the loft, Minda had taken Peavy's knife to cut strips from her dress.
Smart woman, that wife of his. His pride whirled inside him like a storm. She tied up the scoundrel first, before stopping his bleeding nose with the last strip. Brix pulled his knife roughly from between Peavy's collarbone and shoulder and wiped it on the outlaw's grimy clothes.
Del Peavy moaned, groveling cross-eyed in the hay, and tied firm as any calf before branding.
Although he was too much a gentleman to kick any man when he was down, Brix propped the toe of his boot just at the point of entry. Peavy winced. It was little compensation for what the outlaw had just put Minda through.
Brix knelt next to his wife and held her close, somewhat surprised at her trembling. She'd been so strong and resolute. Relief at her safety and pride in her grit pumped through him, laced with more than a tinge of passion.
“Thought you aimed to kill, Mr. Haynes,” she muttered against his bare chest.
“Not with you in the way. Just wanted to disable his arm.” He breathed in the scent of her, then teased, “Some left hook, Miz Haynes.”
“Oh, I had a good teacher.” She grinned along with him, likely remembering Hackett, and waved her bruised knuckles. “I can't say I'll be doing much needlework.” Her shivers stopped against his warmth.
“Damn good knots there,” he said, looking at the prisoner and feeling not a qualm of pity. “He won't go anywhere ‘til we get Sheriff Pelton out here.”
“Good knots? Well, Mr. Haynes, how do you think my stitches hold together?” she murmured, so close to a nipple that he tingled. “Should I make him some of that willow bark tea to ease his discomfort?”
He didn't dare scold her. A nurturing woman was who she was, and why he cared. Peavy's right arm wouldn't be much use to him for a long while, but he was in no danger of dying. The bleeding had already stopped. Just in case, though, Brix got some baling wire and hooked Del Peavy up to some bolts supporting the roof beams.
“We're done here, Minda. He's sleeping it off. Stinks like the whole of Hank's alehouse. There's plenty of last night's whiskey running in his veins. Let's get you down.” He came to her, where she still knelt in the hay, holding the pup, her gun on one knee.
“Just scratches, thankfully, on my neck and his belly,” she said, “but this poor little pup is sleeping in the house tonight for sure.”
“None of your stitches for him then?” Brix grinned, helping her up.
“Brixton.” Her feistiness had left her beautiful eyes. “I remembered to wear my gun. But I couldn't ... I didn't ... He tossed it into the straw. I just now found it.”
Pulling her close against him, he kissed away the sudden dampness on her cheeks. For a flash her mouth parted underneath his. Once again, her taste sparked the new feelings he never thought he wanted. “It makes no mind,” he murmured. “You're safe. He's caught. Now, let's get back to the house. And later, I promise you cloth for a new purple dress.”
“The children will probably be up by now.” She sounded disappointed as she clung to him.
“No doubt about it,” he whispered, not keen to let her go. “Truth is, I left them asleep and came to the barn to, well...”
“Teach me something else?” She smiled shy, but the look in her eyes was not demure one single bit.
“Later. There'll always be later.” He laid a kiss on her ear. “Now, I'll get the dog and go first, then hold the ladder for you.”
He waited at the bottom for her, but when she started down the rungs, her backside at eye level, Brix had no thought at all of the kids. His hands traveled under her skirts, one upon each leg, sliding up and down from thigh to calf, her skin soft as silk, smooth as butter. Memories a man could treasure on the trail.
“Oh, Brixton.” She paused at his touch and leaned back against his chest as one hand went higher, the other held her tight.
“No drawers today, Miz Haynes?” he drawled, delighted at her daring. His arousal battled against his tight denims.
She peeked over her shoulder, flirting. “Maybe I wanted another lesson in the barn, too.”
But then she stumbled and caught her heel in a downward rung. He moved his searching hands quick so he could break her fall, but her foot stuck awkward as she pitched against him. “Minda?”
“I'm fine,” she said, but when she tried to stand, she tottered into his arms.
He bent to knead the swelling flesh. “Not broken.”
“How do you know?” Her cheeks paled but she tried to smile.
“Don't doubt me, now, do you?” With a swoop, he picked her up and carried her across the yard into the house.
“No, Brixton. I don't doubt you at all,” she murmured against his shoulder.
* * * *
“Time for your bath, Miz Haynes,” her husband said, using her married name these da
ys with pure affection as he brought a washtub into the bedroom.
“Now, Brixton, it's been almost a week. I am perfectly capable...”
He leaned down close to her ear. “It's my favorite part of doctoring my wife.”
His eyes narrowed with desire, and the furious heat that just a look from him could ignite consumed her. Her sprained ankle had not prevented nights of magic and passion, and she feared her shouts of delight would wake the children.
He set the washtub down, eyes bright. She was still naked under the sheets, and he knew it. “Silly's napping along with the pup. And I got Ned and Katie enrolled today without punching Schoolmaster Hackett one single time.” He rubbed a washcloth with soap. “So we are alone.”
She giggled in anticipation at his wicked grin. “Brixton, surely it's time for me to be up and about.” But she lost her thought as the warm soapy cloth tugged gently across her chest. She shut her eyes for a second, glorying as Brixton's fingers slid up the slippery slopes of her breasts.
“Doc Viessman himself said a week.” Brixton breathed out, eyes half-lidded, fingertips tickling her nipples into rosy peaks.
“But I have a ton of things to do.” She gasped as one hand slid the cloth down one thigh and the other caressed the opposite.
“No buts. I am keeping house just fine.”
He was. How could he look so magnificent and masculine doing women's work?
Even the soles of her feet and her ten toes turned to fire underneath his touch. She moaned out loud.
“Well, this is day seven.” Her breath caught when he flipped her over and kneaded her backside with hands as gentle as the sunbeams coming through the window.
“Good counting.” His fingers stroked the muscles of her back firmly but sensuously. “I set a plank on two saw horses, over by the front window. Good light and enough room for those hat makings the mercantile sent over. You can sit up there today.” He paused his motions, and said almost shyly. “Might use some of my reward money to get you one of those Singer machines.”
Despite her delight at such a possibility, she couldn't allow it. In her heart, she hoped the fifty dollar reward for Delaware Peavy would buy them more time together and keep him away from Texas longer.
