by Megan Hart
A tiny grin touched Caitleen's lips. “I appreciate your concern, Jed. Was there anything else?"
Was she teasing him on purpose? “No, of course not. It's getting late, and we should go to bed. That is, to sleep."
Cursing his fumbling tongue, Jed turned from her and hurried up the grassy slope as quickly as he could with his groin practically singing Ave Maria. Once back at the campsite, he let out a low mumble of curses directed at himself. So much for keeping her angry with him. Now the tempting redhead would think he was an addle-pated fool, and he couldn't blame her. He was acting like a fool. It seemed the bewitching Caitleen O'Neal was weaving a tempting spell around him, one he didn't really want to resist.
But I have to, if I want to retain my self-respect, Jed thought. And blast it all, if he didn't have that, he didn't have anything.
When Caite at last returned to the fire, fully covered in her white linen shift, Jed had already curled up in his bedroll, feigning sleep. Not wanting to risk another encounter with the delectable Caitleen O'Neal, he had rolled himself away so he could not see her. Keeping his eyes from the sight of her could do nothing to clear the vision from his mind, though.
It's going to be a long night, Jed thought somewhat grumpily. He shifted in order to alleviate the pressure against the front of his trousers. A damn long night.
CHAPTER 3
Caite woke to the morning sun already beating down upon her face. She yawned, stretched and sat up, scrubbing her face to force herself awake. Looking around for Jed, she saw he was already packing most of the bundles.
"Wake up, lazybones,” he called. Remarkably, he sounded as though he were in a fine mood. “We've still got quite a ways to go."
"It is already hot,” Caite grumbled good-naturedly. She quickly rose, dressed and joined Jed at the wagon.
"That didn't take long.” He seemed pleasantly surprised with her promptness.
Caite shrugged, willing to prolong his cheerful attitude as long as she could. “Despite what you may think, Jed, I'm a very simple girl."
Jed cocked one eyebrow at her, then pointed to her trunk. “That's why you brought enough goods to stock Miller's Mercantile, right?"
Caite opened her mouth for a smart reply, but instead looked at him suspiciously. “You're teasing me, Jed."
He smiled his glorious, irresistible smile. Her knees weakened. He may not be the most personable man in the world, but he certainly is handsome. He had not put his hat on this morning, and the sun picked up a multitude of amber highlights in his raven-colored hair. His gold-touched green eyes twinkled and his straight white teeth shone. A very handsome man.
The man in question seemed to realize she was staring, for he turned his gaze from hers abruptly. The smile faded, its passing like the winter sun ducking behind a set of storm clouds. Motioning to the wagon seat, he said, “Well, let's move on then."
There was no arguing about him helping her aboard today. Caite waited willingly for his hands around her hips before placing her foot on the wheel and hoisting herself to the seat. Was it her imagination, or did his hands linger a second too long around her waist?
As they rode along in a companionable silence for some miles, Caite reflected that perhaps today would make up for yesterday. Deciding to forget all the harsh words that had passed between them, she turned the full force of her smile on Jed. After all, she was not entirely unaware of her charms.
"It seems to be cooling a little bit,” she remarked.
Jed glanced overhead and looked grim. “I think those are storm clouds. We may be in for some rain."
"Oh, I hope not.” Caitleen frowned. “You said if it rained the trip could last longer. I am anxious to get to Heatherfield."
Jed flicked his gaze her way, then back to the sky. “That's right. With good weather, we should be home tomorrow afternoon. If it rains, we may be stranded for a few days."
"Stranded?” Caite's voice was small, but she tried to sound as if the idea did not bother her. “Would we have to sleep under the wagon?"
"Under the...” Jed looked at her curiously for a moment, then chuckled. “Not if I can help it. There's a cabin not far from here. It's not in the greatest shape, but I reckon it'll keep the rain off. If we make it there in time, that is."
He looked again at the rapidly darkening sky. A thick blanket of clouds covered the formerly intense sun. The air had cooled considerably, and the breeze had picked up so Caite's ringlets whipped about her face. Jed clucked to the horses, urging them to go faster. Caite clung to the seat as the wagon bounced horrendously, threatening to jounce her off. Wincing at the beating her bottom was taking, she nevertheless tried to keep the conversation going. After all, the whole morning had passed without an argument. She was not about to let a little storm ruin their good start!
"Do you think we'll get there before it starts to rain?” Her voice jarred raggedly from her throat.
Jed turned to look at her again, eyebrow cocked. “Afraid of getting wet, Miss O'Neal?"
"I won't melt, if that's what you are implying,” Caite retorted before she could stop herself. Drat that man! He took all her best intentions and turned them upside down. Now she had nearly lost her temper again. “I merely asked what you thought."
"I could think a sight better if I didn't have to listen to you jabbering, Miss Chatterbox,” Jed shot back.
There. He had succeeded in making her angry again. Just when she thought it might be possible they were going to get along, he had to go and say something rude to her. Caite thinned her lips and crossed her arms fiercely. She was not about to let him win this one! She would keep her tongue if it was the last thing she did. Jed Peters was ill-mannered and disrespectful, but he was her only choice right now. It was either put up with him, or head back home to Serenity and Drake Hammond.
As if echoing her mood, she heard the low murmur of thunder in the distance. Raising her face to the sky, Caitleen was alarmed to see the sky turning a deep, bruised purple. The wind was really blustering now, and the horses were restless in the harness. They could sense the impending storm, and by their reactions, it was going to be a big one. As she looked upward, the first fat raindrops splattered on her face and into her eyes. Letting out a startled cry at the contact of the cold water against the sensitive area, Caite shook her face free of water. Then she laughed a little at her foolishness.
"Here it comes!” Jed wasn't laughing. Standing firmly on the bench, he urged the horses to go even faster. The rain began falling more heavily, spattering them both. “Good thing we're almost there!"
Caite clung to the wagon as tightly as she could. If she had thought the ride bouncy before, she regretted her innocence. Riding on this wagon at full tilt was worse than being in a rowboat sucked up in a waterspout. White-knuckled, Caitleen closed her eyes and prayed for the strength to keep holding on.
"Are you all right?” Jed shouted over the thunder of the storm and the horses’ hooves. He took his eyes off the team just long enough to shoot her a glance. “Can you hang on?"
"Yes!” Caite cried back.
Her teeth clattered, and she nearly bit through her tongue, but despite her fear and the pain in her fingers, she felt strangely elated. Maybe it was the sheer intensity of the storm, or the panting of the horses, but she found herself thinking of Jed's mouth closing on hers. His kiss had felt like this wild ride. She had no time to dwell on amorous recollections, however, because one of the wheels caught a dip in the road. Caite shrieked breathlessly as she bounced nearly six inches into the air and came down on her rump hard enough to bring up tears of pain.
In the distance, she could begin to make out the small, square shape she assumed must be the cabin Jed had mentioned. At the sight of it, Jed clucked to the horses, coaxing a last valiant effort from them. The team pounded ferociously up to the building, nearly overrunning it. They scattered a clucking flock of scrawny, half-wild hens. Only Jed's superb handling kept the horses on their feet as they slipped in the sudden mud the storm had
created.
"Whoa, Ginger! Whoa, Nutmeg!” Jed pulled back on the reins just enough to slow the beasts.
The rain poured down on them in blinding, chilling sheets, soaking them to the skin. A crack of lightning flashed blue-white, searing their eyes. Thunder rumbled brutally, close enough to make Caite jump. When the team stopped, prancing and snorting in the mud, Jed wound the reins tightly around the seat and jumped from the wagon.
"I'll get you inside, then come get our things!” Jed yelled over the sounds of the storm.
Caite nodded, prying her stiff fingers loose from the seat. Leaning over the side of the wagon, she tumbled topsy-turvy into Jed's waiting arms. Caite marveled at the way she always seemed to end up in this position. It must be fate, she decided. There was no time for lingering glances or caresses this time, however. Even though Jed's grip on her was strong, there was no nonsense in it. As she tried to stand, Caite realized before Jed that the hem of her skirt had become twisted around the bench. Before she could warn him that she was caught, he had tugged himself off balance.
With a purr that sounded loud even through the thunder and wind, Caite's dress tore from ankles to waist. At the sudden give, Jed fell backward, carrying Caite with him. They landed in a tangle of arms and legs, mud splattering all over them. Caitleen felt rather than heard the rush of Jed's breath as her weight knocked it out of him. Her knee banged painfully into the ground, and she yelped.
"Jed! Are you all right?” She scrambled off him. He looked green. She realized belatedly her knee had gouged him, not the ground. If his expression was any indication, it was in an extremely tender spot.
"Too much fried chicken,” Jed wheezed. His arms and legs swam slowly in the mud, but he was having trouble rising. “You must weigh as much a prize hog."
"Let me help you up,” offered Caite quickly, linking her arms through his and pulling.
"Don't need your help,” Jed said a trifle louder this time. His face was returning to its normal color. “I can manage."
The mud in which they had landed was as slick as grease in a dandy's pompadour. The more Jed struggled to rise, the more his feet flew from under him. The more Caite tried to help him, the more useless her efforts became. Within moments, the two were rolling about in the muck like two pigs in a pen.
"If you'd just stop struggling and let me help you,” Caite yelled in exasperation, “we'd have been inside by now!"
Jed struggled to release himself from her grip as she slipped and stumbled in the filth beside them. “I told you, I don't need your help!"
"Why, of all the stubborn, nonsensical...” Caite sputtered, her mouth suddenly filled with rain and mire. She had tripped on Jed's leg and fallen face forward to the ground. Specter-like, she rose from the mud. A thick coat of wet earth covered her entire front, top to toe. She blinked slowly. Once. Twice. By the third blink, those emerald beauties had narrowed in telltale fury. Jed was laughing at her.
"Oh, Caite!” Jed managed to choke out around his guffaws. He had been able to get to his knees, and was staring up at her in unabashed mirth. “Now you really are a prize hog!"
"A prize hog!” Caitleen shrieked. Only the strength of her Irish ire kept her from slipping back into the muck. “I'll show you a prize hog, Jed Peters!"
Reaching to the ground, Caite scooped up the largest clump of earth her hands could hold. She held it in front of her for a moment, merely watching as Jed shook with laughter. Then she let the clump fly, straight into his blasted laughing mouth. The dirt hit its target dead on, stopping the laughter as if she had clapped her hand over his lips.
"Who is laughing now?” She pushed her hair off her forehead with grimy hands, managing to smear the dirt covering her even more. Tilting her face to the sky, she let the rain wash over her. At least the downpour might help to clean off some of the mess.
Her lack of attention was her mistake. While she was turned away, Jed attacked. With an ululating battle cry, he tackled Caite around the waist and sent the two of them flying to the earth.
"Let's see how you like this, Miss Chatterbox O'Neal!” he roared, slapping handfuls of the rich loam all over her.
Pummeling him with her tiny fists, Caite spat a stream of rainwater into his face. “Get off me, you brute!"
"Not until you beg for mercy!” Jed shouted back. He had pinned her beneath his knees. A wild grin lit up his face. With his hair askew and the mud splashed over him, he looked like an escapee from Bedlam. A rakish, gorgeous mad man.
Ineffectually, Caite pushed away from him. Her fury had turned to something else, she realized. She returned the grin.
"Never!” she cried dramatically. “Never, never, never! I shall die before I beg mercy from you!"
Jed raised his head to the heavens, letting out a mock-evil bellow. Looking back down at her, he carefully raised a clump of earth over her face.
Caite's eyes widened theatrically. Neither of them noticed the continuing storm or the restless horses. Their own private drama was much more compelling than nature's. She blinked prettily, squirming to get out of his embrace.
"Oh, no, Jed,” she replied sweetly. “Please, not that!"
In the instant he bent to rub the mud into her face, Caite managed to slide free from his grip and get to her feet. Her ribs aching from suppressed laughter, she tried to run. She only managed a few steps before Jed caught up to her and grabbed her elbow. Spinning her to face him, Jed pulled her into his arms.
For a moment, the two just stared, laughing, at each other. Their eyes met, emerald upon emerald. The rain washed over them, streaking clear paths across their filthy faces. As she watched his eyes follow the path of one raindrop sliding from her forehead to her lips, Caite knew Jed was going to kiss her. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then pressed his mouth to hers with a guttural moan of surrender.
Caitleen returned the kiss eagerly. His mouth was a garden, all rich earth and fresh water, and the taste intoxicated her. They clung to each other, not caring about anything but the passion that had sprung upon them like a wildcat pouncing. Jed's tongue urged her to open to him, and she did, gasping slightly at the sensual onslaught. Their tongues danced, their teeth clashed. Caite wound her fingers into the thick darkness of Jed's hair, feeling as though if she did not hold on to something, she would fall to the ground.
She was aware of his hands moving across her back to tug in the length of her tresses. His hands felt good on her, hot against the rain's chill. Her breasts, crushed against the strong, muscled plane of his chest, felt suddenly fuller. She felt her nipples swell and scrape against the rough, wet fabric of her blouse. The sensation was maddening.
As if he sensed her thoughts, Jed's hand found the taut fullness of her breast. His hand cupped her completely, his thumb rubbing against the peak of her nipple until she moaned deep into his mouth.
The sound seemed to trigger a reaction in him. Placing his hands gently on her shoulders, Jed pushed Caitleen away. For a moment her mouth still remained open, searching for his. She opened her eyes, her vision glazed with desire, and met his gaze.
"We should get inside out of this storm,” he told Caitleen. Her eyes cleared, and she nodded. “You go on ahead, Caitleen. I'll get what we need from the wagon."
With a brief glance behind her, Caite headed for the door of the ramshackle building that would be their shelter for the night.
* * * *
Jed leaned against the wagon for several minutes, willing the chill rain to slow the raging of his blood. Lord above! Did she know what she was doing to him? She had been all fragrant hair and sweet lips pressed against him. She was driving him wild. It had taken a Herculean effort to tear his hand away from the sweet mound of her breast. No woman had ever affected him this way. Kissing Caite had been like tasting the first fresh berries of the season; he wanted to gorge himself until he was replete.
"She's here to marry Pa,” Jed muttered aloud, willing himself to regain control. “No matter what pretty glances she sends your way, Jedson, she
's not for you."
The rain was chilly against the tender flesh of his neck, but Jed didn't mind. Maybe the cold water would douse the liquid fire that had built up in his veins from Caite's kiss. If only she would slap his face again, instead of giving in every time he kissed her! If he only knew his embrace was not welcome, he'd have no trouble keeping his desire in check. He had never forced his attentions on a woman, and he never would.
Still, that was the whole problem. He wanted Caite O'Neal like he had never wanted any other woman. And, it seemed, no matter how wrong it was, she wanted him, too. How could he resist her when she was so willing?
She was a contradiction in lace and gingham. On the one hand, she had pointed out to him very strongly that they were to be a family, and should get along. On the other, she had responded to his kisses like she was tinder and he a match.
He had sensed an inexperience about her in the way she kissed him, but her fervor seemed to belong to a much more experienced woman. What was she—innocent mail-order bride or wanton vixen who only wanted to stir up trouble? Why else would such a lovely young woman agree to travel thousands of miles from her home to marry a stranger, if she was not trying to escape some sort of reputation?
Willing himself to forget the feeling of Caite in his arms, Jed began unloading the wagon. As he opened the lid of her trunk only halfway, so as to keep the rain out, a bewildering array of femininity confronted Jed. He had no idea what she would need for the night. His eye caught sight of a pair of lace-trimmed bloomers and the heat rose back in his cheeks. That cloth had been pressed to places he could imagine all too well. Hurriedly, he pushed the fragile garment aside and grabbed the first several bulky items that came into his hand. These would have to do.
Jed ran with the clothes to the overhang outside the cabin's door and left them. Then he turned to the horses, stamping and puffing in the driving storm. With speed gained through long experience, he unharnessed them and led them both to the small stable at the rear of the cabin. He forked some hay for them, gave them fresh water and made sure the door was shut tight behind them.
