by Betty Brooks
"I'll get some for you," he said gallantly. "You go on outside and wait for me."
Rainey found it much cooler outside. She climbed the corral poles and seated herself on the top rail. Moments later she heard Cage Larson calling to her. "Where are you, Rainey?"
"I'm settin' on the corral," she replied.
He came to her quickly and handed her a glass of punch. "Here you are," he said, climbing the corral to sit on the rails beside her.
Tilting her glass, she drank deeply, and the punch slid warmly down her throat and struck her stomach with a jolt. She hiccupped and put a hand over her mouth. "What's in that stuff?" she asked, frowning at the empty glass.
"It has a touch of white lightning in it," he admitted. "Not much, though. Just enough to warm you."
"I was plenty warm afore I drank that down," she said.
"Come here." He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. "I've been waiting all night for this." He crushed his lips against hers.
Thorne scowled at the doorway angrily, waiting for Rainey to return. But as time dragged on and she remained conspicuously absent, he began to get anxious. He left his partner and hurried outside, but Rainey was nowhere to be seen. Thorne knew she had to be there, though. He'd seen her leave, then watched her partner depart with a glass in each hand.
Crash! The sound was loud in the night. Thorne hurried toward the noise, then stopped short as he saw Rainey struggling with the stranger who'd partnered her.
"Let her go!" Thorne snapped.
"This ain't none of your business!" the man snarled.
"That's where you're wrong,'' Thorne said. "Anything to do with Rainey is my business."
"That right, Rainey?" Cage asked. "Does he have a say over you?"
"Yes!" she snapped. "And he's gonna bash your nose in if you don't turn me loose!"
"Get away from her!" Thorne said grimly.
Cage Larson eyed him belligerently for a long moment, then finally shrugged his shoulders. "Hell! Take her then. She ain't worth fighting over."
Rainey looked stunned. Tears glistened in her eyes as Cage Larson strode into the darkness.
Thorne took her in his arms. "You didn't really want to be with him, did you, Rainey?"
"No. But he didn't have to say that." She looked up at him with wounded eyes. "Guess everybody but Willis and Zeke thinks I ain't worth much," she said shakily. "I was a fool to come down here, was a fool to think I was as good as these other folks."
"Stop that!" He shook her gently. "That man didn't mean what he said. He was angry at being ordered away from you. You really don't care what he thinks anyway, do you?"
"Not him. but I do care what Robert thinks. If Cage thinks I ain't worth much, then I 'spect Robert does, too."
“I’m sure he knows how much you're worth." Thorne hated to help the other man but didn't want to see her so hurt, either. "You are so innocent, Rainey." His thumb traced her lower lip. "Any man would want you."
"I don't want just any man. I want Robert." His stomach tightened. "Help me, Thorne," she pleaded. "Help me learn the things I need to know to make Robert notice me. Help me make him see I'm a woman growed."
His eyes slid to the pink perfection of her lips and he saw the faint tremble and knew a hunger so violent and unexpected that it made him tremble.
"Thorne," she whispered pleadingly.
He wanted to cover her mouth with his, to part its softness and enter the moist cavity within, He wanted to feel her body yielding to his, and her arms sliding around his neck, wanted those firm breasts pressed against his bare flesh.
When she looked up at him, the glitter in her eyes made his heart pick up speed. He hadn't known he was capable of such need, such absolute urgency.
"Please," she whispered. "Help me know what to do afore somebody else catches his eyes."
"All right," he said gruffly.
"You'll help me?" she asked eagerly.
"Yes."
"Oh, thank you, Thorne. You don't know how much this means to me. When will we start the lessons?"
"Now," he muttered, lowering his head until his mouth was hovering only inches above hers. "Open your mouth, Rainey. Let me show you how a man kisses the woman he desires."
She opened her mouth without hesitation, and he covered it with his own.
He kissed her then, slowly and thoroughly, until she was so weak that she could hardly stand upright. When he finally released her, she spoke in a breathless voice. "Lordy, Thorne, if kissing you makes me feel so weak, I'll more'n likely pass out from pure pleasure when that teacher man touches me."
A fury such as he'd never known before surged through Thorne. He vowed then that no other man would ever touch her that way. He couldn't bear the thought of another man teaching Rainey the ways of love. And he couldn't believe how weak-kneed he felt from kissing her, either.
"Maybe we'd better practice some more," she whispered, lifting her face eagerly. "I never knowed mashing lips together could be so downright pleasurable or I'd been doin' it a long time ago."
"It's not the same with everyone, Rainey," he said gruffly.
"It's not?"
"No."
"I guess I ain't surprised. The thought of mashing lips with Willis or Zeke gives me the shivers. And they ain't like the shivers I get when you're akissing me, neither. I sure didn't like the way Cage Larson did it." She looked up at him innocently. "What do you reckon makes the difference, Thorne? Do you have to like the
person you're kissing before you get the right kind of shivers? The kind that makes your belly warm and wobbly, and makes you want to squinch closer to the one that's makin' you feel thata way?"
"I guess that's it," he said.
"Well, it's a fact that I like you well enough. You're my best friend. And I like the way it feels when you're kissin' me. Makes me all breathy-like and causes goose bumps to pop out all over me." She smiled up at him. "Are you gonna do it again?"
"Yes, Rainey," he said softly. “I’m going to do it again." He lowered his mouth over hers, more than happy to oblige her.
Seven
The kiss was so unlike the one that preceded it that Rainey gasped, clinging tightly to Thorne, her half opened eyes locked on his as she wondered dazedly if she'd been struck by a bolt of lightning.
He lifted his head slightly and whispered, "My God, but you're beautiful."
"What're you doin'?" she whispered . "Open your mouth," he said gruffly.
She had no thought of refusing, no thought other than compliance. As her lips parted, he crushed her mouth under his, and his tongue darted possessively into her mouth, his body pressing hard against hers.
Rainey moaned softly, hunger eating at her. She was aware of the abrasive softness of his cheek beneath her palm as his mouth moved with expert sureness against hers. His tongue traced the inner softness of her lips, easing past her teeth to move slowly, suggestively, inside her mouth. Another moan escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Thorne's fingers trailed down her throat, reaching
toward breasts that were outlined by the fabric of her gown. He traced the low neckline with a caressing touch, which caused her fingernails to bite into him.
With his mouth biting softly at hers, his knuckles brushed teasingly, skimming maddeningly over the creamy swell of her bosom.
Rainey surged closer, wanting, needing to feel his hands close over her flesh. But he resisted, continuing to brush light caresses across her flesh, teasing and tor men ting her until her flesh ached with hunger.
Arching desperately toward him, she uttered another cry, one so faint that the sound was almost muffled be neath his hungry mouth.
Her knees seemed to have no more substance than wet noodles. They threatened to buckle beneath her weight, making her aware that it would be impossible to stand upright if Thorne had not been holding her so firmly.
He lifted her against him and moved backward, into the sheltering shrubs that grew in such abundance on the
south side of the barn. Then he pushed the shoulders of her gown down her arms to allow him access to the fullness of her breasts.
Rainey's ·breath came in short gasps as his fingers tweaked her exposed nipples. Oh, God, she thought. What was he doing to her? What incredible magic was he working that made her feel so helpless to deny him anything. As his lips found the smooth skin of her neck, she threw her head back to allow him more freedom to graze where he would.
"Rainey," he muttered huskily. Then his mouth came back to claim her lips in a driving possession. The raw urgency of his kiss completely overwhelmed her and she gloried in his strength.
Snap! The sound was loud in the night, jerking Rainey back to awareness.
"Thorne?" The voice was obviously female, and it posed a question, as though the speaker were not quite certain of encountering the man she sought. "Are you out here, Thorne?"
As though with great reluctance, Thorne lifted his mouth from Rainey's. She stared at him, wide-eyed, hardly able to believe what had just gone on between them.
"Thorne!" The voice was louder now, as the speaker
approached them. "Where are you, Thorne?"
Only then, did Rainey realize they were hidden be hind a huge, spreading ".listeria Thorne's eyes were glazed and his face suffused with color. He seemed to shake himself, the way a dog would when leaving the water. Then, Thorne carefully pulled the neckline of her gown up and cleared his throat. "We'd best go," he said hoarsely.
Rainey was speechless, unable to utter a single word. She nodded her head and followed him toward the woman he'd been partnering so recently.
The rest of the dance was a haze of confusion for
Rainey. She was aware of laughter and music, but wasn't required to speak. It was a good thing, too, she realized later because she was so caught up in that moment when Thorne had kissed her so hungrily that she wouldn't have been able to think of a reply to save her life.
They left soon afterward, and the ride home was un eventful, accomplished without a single word being ex changed between them. And when it was over, and Rainey had been deposited safely at her door, Thorne brushed his mouth briefly across her forehead, mounted the gelding, and rode away.
Three days later, Thorne entered Crocker's General Store with a list of badly needed supplies. As he strode across the room toward the farm tools hanging from nails on the wall, he was interrupted by a hail from Charles Crocker, who was sorting mail in the sectioned off area that was used for mail.
"Thorne Lassiter!" Crocker called out. "Glad you came to town. Thought I'd have to send someone out to your farm."
"Why's that, Charles?" Thorne asked, taking note of the letter in the man's hand.
"Got a letter here for you," Charles said. "And it's marked urgent." He handed the letter across the counter and watched with avid interest as Thorne glanced at the return address.
St. Louis. The letter was from home.
Although he gave no outward sign, Thorne felt a great reluctance to open the letter. Yet knowing delay would accomplish nothing, he quickly slit the envelope with his knife and pulled out the single sheet of paper. A quick glance at the signature scrawled at the bottom confirmed the writer's identity. It was from his sister, Eloise. Thorne felt a momentary alarm as he realized The letter appeared to have been written hastily.
He opened it and read the words she'd written.
Dear Thorne,
So much time has passed since we corresponded that I find this letter hard to write. I know you have no wish to return home and yet you must do so. Things have gone from bad to worse here. Father's situation is desperate and I know not how long I can continue to hand/,e the situation alone. Please, please, Thorne. Come home. I implore you. Do not leave me alone with this trouble any longer: As always,
Your loving sister,
Eloise
Thorne read the words over and over again, trying to make sense out of them. What could be wrong? he wondered. It was obvious there was trouble of some kind there, but what kind of trouble? He read the words again. Do not leave me alone with this trouble any longer. Dammit! What trouble? Father's situation is desperate. Desperate? Was Eugene Lassiter ill?
Thorne thought about sending a telegram to his sister asking her to explain in more detail, then realized that would be wasting time. Eloise would not have written if her need was not great. She'd obviously been under great duress when she'd penned the letter. No, he mustn't waste time. He'd book passage on the next train out.
"I couldn't help noticing the postmark, Thorne. Saw the letter came from St. Louis," Charles said, studying Thorne's worried expression.
"Yeah," Thorne said. "It's from my sister. Looks like
I'm needed at home."
"Good thing you got a dependable hand to take charge while you're gone."
"Yeah. Good thing," Thorne agreed, tapping the letter against his chin thoughtfully. "But he can't manage alone long. And I'm not sure how long I'll be away."
''You gonna look for help for him?" Charles inquired. "I hear tell, Sadie's boy, Jed, is looking for work. You might check with him."
"I might do just that. Right now I need to book passage
on the stage for tomorrow morning." After bidding Charles farewell, he strode out of the store toward the stage office. Mention of Sadie's son, Jed, had brought Rainey to mind. He didn't like the idea of leaving her now. Not when he'd just begun to make her realize her potential as a woman.
No. He couldn't leave her behind. The only thing to do was take her with him.
Rainey bent over the stove and opened the oven, feeling the heat rise immediately in ever increasing waves. She tested the biscuits, which were nicely browned on top, and found them firm to the touch. After pulling the pan out, she closed the oven door and set the pan of bread on the back of the stove to keep warm. Then she firmly stirred the pot of beans, which were bubbling noisily, with a wooden spoon.
With dinner almost ready, she pulled out a chair and sat down. Propping her elbows on the table, she rested her chin on her clasped hands. In that restful state she allowed her mind to wander back to the night of the dance, as it had so many times in the past few days.
Thorne Lassiter was a puzzle to her, she decided. She'd asked for his help, practically begged for it. Yet, when he'd relented and given her what she'd asked for, she'd been flabbergasted at the results. He'd muddled her thoughts with his kisses, with his incredible tender caresses. Even now, her breasts tingled from the remembrance. Her body began to burn furiously with an inner heat that spread throughout her belly. And her heart picked' up speed, causing her breath to quicken, as though she were racing through the forest, following a bee line to its source.
"Hallo the cabin!"
Thorne! It was as though she'd conjured him up by thinking about him.
She hurried .to the window, eager to see him, but her heart plummeted when she saw their visitor. It was only Willis Johnson.
Rainey frowned heavily. What in tarnation did he want? He stopped beside Grandpa, who had been rock ing on the porch, soaking up the warmth of the noon day sun in hopes that it would help his rheumatism.
Without waiting to be invited, Willis seated himself on the porch and began to speak rapidly to George Watson. What had brought Willis to their cabin?
At that moment Willis shifted his position, and Rainey ducked quickly out of sight. Her wandering gaze stopped on the pan of biscuits, and she crossed the room quickly to slide them in the warming oven. Dinner would just have to wait until Willis's departure.
She peeked out the window again.
Willis was still there, jawing with her grandpa like he had nothing better to do with his time.
Rainey poured a cup of coffee and carried it to the table, where she slipped into a chair. Might just as well be comfortable, she thought, sipping the steaming liq uid. It might be a long spell before Willis took himself off.
As, though the very thought had conjured him up, the door was suddenly flung open
and Willis stood facing her. "Howdy, Rainey," he said with a grin. "You got some more of that coffee? I sure could use a cup."
"Then go home and get it," she snapped. She knew she was l:>eing impolite, hut she didn't care. She had no wish to see him since he'd become so obnoxious. "I ain't gonna wait on you, Willis Johnson."
He looked momentarily confused. "What's eatin' at you, Rainey? You got no call to talk to me thataway." "It's the only way you're gonna get talked to around here," she said shortly. "You and that cousin of yours has deviled me plenty lately, and I ain't gonna put up with it no more."
"Rainey!" George Watson's voice thundered across the room, reaching out to his granddaughter. "You got more manners than to talk to company thata way!" he said grimly. "Now, you make your 'pologies to Willis and get him a cup of coffee."
"Sorry," Rainey muttered, tightening her lips as she hurried to pour coffee for Willis. Grandpa was a sight to behold when his dander was up. Anyway,he was right. She had been rude to Willis. He was a guest in their home. And to treat a guest unkindly was an unpardonable sin to the hill folk.
"Pour me a cup, too," Grandpa said gruffly. He eyed the stove with displeasure. "Them beans about done?" "Yes," she admitted. "And the bread is in the warming oven. I saw you had a visitor and I didn't want the biscuits to get cold."
"It ain't my intention for 'em to get cold," George Watson said. "Just set another plate on the table and Willis can eat with us. "He eyed Willis sternly. "You ain't et yet, have you, boy?"
"No. I ain't." Willis's eyes glittered darkly, like he was pleased she'd been scolded. "If Rainey don't mind me eating with you all, I'd be right pleasured to share your meal. Would you mind real bad, Rainey?"
"Ain't no skin off my nose," she muttered. "What did you say, girl?" Grandpa asked severely.
"I said he would be welcome to sup with us," she claimed, hurrying to put food on the table.
During the meal Willis was inclined to conversation. "That stranger that was sparking you at the barn dance turned out to be a drummer," he said.
