by Megan Hart
For one brief moment, he considered staying in the stable where he could not be tempted by Caite's sweet pink lips and lush curves. That would be the cowardly choice, he thought. And he wasn't a coward. With a deep breath and a mental flexing of his muscles, Jed headed toward the cabin to face the battle he knew he probably would lose.
* * * *
Caite's first reaction to the sight of the night's accommodations was dismay. That quickly changed to amusement, however, as she realized that no matter how dirty the shack was, she was dirtier. The entire small building consisted of a single room. A vast, grimy fireplace took up the breadth of one wall. Against another was a low, sturdy bed with a straw mattress piled on top.
"Lumpy, I shall guess,” Caitleen remarked. “Hardly big enough for two."
The thought of sharing the space with Jed made her stomach do a slow, sensuous roll. Her heart was still pounding a little from their passionate exchange. Surely he could no longer be angry with her, not after kissing her that way.
Caite shivered pleasurably. Tonight, would she and Jed become man and wife, not in a church wedding, but in time's oldest fashion? Even though throughout the past two days he had been a thorough oaf, she found the idea of making love to him exciting. Briefly, she cupped breasts still prickling from his touch.
One of the horses neighed from outside, and she shook off the erotic lethargy. She had a lot of work to do in this place if they were going to be comfortable. First, she was pleased to note, the rest of the cabin's walls held shelves filled with supplies enough to last several days. The fireplace, though filthy, held enough wood to start a comfortable blaze. Obviously, someone used this cabin enough to keep it stocked, if not in perfect repair. She quickly bent to the fireplace and, using the tinderbox she found on the mantel, lit a roaring blaze.
Using the basin and ewer she found on the table, she leaned outside and in moments had a filled the porcelain jug with water. Set by the fire, it warmed nicely in minutes. She used the water to rinse her hands and face. The water turned almost instantly black. She dumped it out the door, noticing the storm had not abated, and got some more. Jed would like to bathe, too, she thought.
Jed blasted in from outside, hands full of bundles he promptly dropped on the floor. Slamming the door against the howl of the storm, he wiped the water from his face and shook his dark hair like a dog. Caite laughed at the sight.
"I'm glad you find me funny, Caitleen,” Jed said, “but if it's my looks you're laughing at, you've no room for poking fun. You're a sight yourself."
Caite looked down at her ruined clothes and laughed ruefully this time. She knew her hair must be plastered to her face, but at least she'd cleaned away most of the mud. Still, she could imagine how she must look.
"I suppose you are right, Jed. I look frightful. We'll both need to change our clothes and clean up as best we can before we do anything else."
"I reckon you're right. Your things are right here."
Jed tossed her the bundle he had pulled indiscriminately from her trunk. She saw he had chosen two of her night rails, a petticoat and one of her gingham work dresses. Smiling and shaking her head at the ignorance of men, Caite thanked him.
"I'll just turn around and wait,” Jed said pointedly. “While you change, I mean."
"Nonsense,” Caite replied. “You're just as wet as I am, Jed. There's no sense in you shivering and possibly catching your death of cold by waiting. We'll change at the same time. I'll stand over here and you can use some of the water to clean off the dirt."
Jed nodded and turned his back on her. As he began to fumble with his wet clothes, Caite found herself unable to look away. She was fascinated by the sight of Jed's naked back, so close she could have reached out and touched it if she so desired. And she guessed she desired, all right. His smooth, tanned skin looked so tempting she wanted to run her fingers over it.
His trousers were pulled slightly down, revealing a narrow waist and the first delicious glimpse of strong male buttocks. Suddenly, she longed to press her tongue to the patch of crisp dark hair marking the line between back and bum. Her face flushed, and she felt a little dizzy. Mercy, what was she thinking? If Jed thought her wanton to show her bare head, she could only guess his reaction to her kissing him in such an intimate spot.
With numb fingers, she hurriedly undid buttons and pulled her soaked blouse over her head. Her skirt was next, then her bloomers. For a moment, she stood naked in the fire's flickering light. She knew if Jed turned now he would see every part of her, and she was tempted to stay just as she was until he did. At the thought of Jed's eyes feasting on her, a tingling burst flared between her thighs. This was too much.
Quickly pulling her dry night rail over her head until she was covered, Caite tried to push the carnal thoughts away. “I'm dressed,” she said a little breathlessly.
* * * *
Jed dared not turn around just yet. Although he had not seen Caite undressing, he had heard every enticing sound. First, a rustle of soggy petticoats falling to the floor. Then, more unbearably, the sound of tiny, perfect buttons being expertly teased from their holes. Plink, plink, plink. Closing his eyes, Jed thought fiercely of dead cattle bloating in the sun, rancid milk, anything to keep his mind from picturing the body beneath the falling garments.
He had almost succeeded when, to his ears, came the distinct sound of knickers being stepped out of. His hands, which had been on the waistband of his trousers, hesitated. He had been ready to push the pants off his hips and to the floor, but now his rod had vibrantly sprung to life with erotic energy. He could sense Caite's eyes upon him, which was torture, but the thought she would be able to see just how she had affected him was unbearable. If he saw even the briefest glimpse of invitation in her beautiful Irish eyes, he would be lost. This time, he would not be able to stop with a few mere kisses.
Concentrating grimly, Jed tried to tame his erection without success. Finally, with a determined grimace, he pushed his pants off one leg, then the other. Swiftly grabbing the dry pair he had brought from the wagon, Jed pulled them up to his thighs. Then, taking several quick, deep breaths, he surreptitiously pinched himself as hard as he could at the tender junction of groin and leg. Instantly, tears of agony sprang to his eyes. Just as quickly, his erection wilted like steamed spinach.
Shaking off the pain, he pulled his pants up the rest of the way, and hastily used the water to clean his hands and face and places where the mud had splattered. Then he turned back to Caite. Despite the grime, she was fetchingly lovely in her linen gown, which, he thankfully noted, covered her demurely from neck to toes. She was also red-faced and guilty-eyed. Jed knew she had not turned away while he was dressing. He chose not to mention the fact.
"Let's get something to eat,” he said instead.
Caite nodded eagerly. “I can warm some meat and bread from the basket."
Each hurried about individual tasks, and quickly, the mouth-watering aroma of hearty food filled the little cabin. The pair huddled cozily close to the fire, stuffing their mouths with hunks of crusty bread and juicy slices of beef.
"How much will this rain set us back?” Caite asked.
Jed noted reluctantly that her hair was drying into perfect, alluring ringlets around her oval face. “If we're lucky, the storm will end tonight. If tomorrow dawns clear and the roads dry fast, we can be on our way in the late afternoon. We won't get far, though."
"And how long is it to Heatherfield from here?"
"At least a day's ride."
"I am truly looking forward to seeing it,” Caite declared.
"Well, it's going to be your home,” Jed told her. “I imagine you're anxious to get off the trail."
"Will you tell me about it, Jed?"
She sounded so winsome he could hardly refuse. Besides, it was getting harder and harder to constantly bait her anger or push her aside with gruff words. It was not Jed's nature to be cruel or harsh, and her anger never lasted long enough to really protect him from her charms.
"We have the finest horses and best breeding program this side of the Missouri River,” Jed told Caite proudly. “But I guess you'll be wanting to know about the house and such."
"Oh, anything!” Caite replied eagerly.
"Well, my Pa built the house for my Mama, so it's got a real womanly touch to it,” Jed said. “There's a nice garden, vegetables and flowers and such. Lorna—she's our housekeeper—is looking forward to some help with that. I'll have to warn you, though. Cooky's been with us for longer than I can remember. He'll likely have a say in anything to do with the cooking."
"It sounds lovely,” Caite murmured a little dreamily.
"We have horses, of course, which you'll be welcome to ride. That is, if you know how to ride.” Jed eyed her speculatively. “We don't have a sidesaddle."
Caite laughed. “I assure you, Jed, I can sit a horse quite well. And I do not need a sidesaddle. I can ride astride."
I'll just bet you can, Jed thought helplessly.
Caite must have guessed his thoughts because she blushed. Suddenly changing the subject, she feigned a deep yawn. “I think we ought to turn in. It's been a very ... eventful day."
"Of course, Caite. You must be exhausted."
"And you as well, Jed,” Caite responded.
Awkward silence fell between them. Both were thinking of the narrow bed along the wall, and how the close quarters would affect them.
"You take the bed,” Jed said in the same instant those exact words came from Caite's mouth. “Don't be silly, Caitleen. I don't expect you to sleep on the floor."
"Well, you had just as much a soaking as I,” Caitleen countered. “I don't think you should risk catching the grippe by sleeping on a drafty floor."
"Out of the question. We can't share a bed."
Caite lowered her eyes for a moment, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. Then she looked at him earnestly. “I promise to stay on my side of the bed."
Jed groaned. “Oh, Caite."
She held up her hand to stop him from speaking. “No, really! I think, as two adults, we should be able to share space without ... without...” Words failed her for a moment, but she struggled on. “Without impropriety,” she finished.
Jed looked at her for a long moment. The thought of curling up beside a warm, fragrant feminine shape was definitely appealing; the idea of spending the night on a drafty, hard floor most definitely was not. As much as he wanted to believe Caite's statement the two of them could share a bed without impropriety, however, he sincerely doubted it would be the case. A man would have to have nerves of iron to withstand that kind of temptation.
Jed Peters had always prided himself on being strong.
"All right,” he conceded. “But you have to promise not to steal the covers."
Caitleen flashed him the sunny, unabashed sort of grin that should have made her look childish. The smile only accentuated her fresh beauty, and Jed began to regret his decision. He had no time to change his mind for Caite had stuck out her hand to shake his.
"It's a deal,” she said.
CHAPTER 4
Without stopping to think just what she had gotten herself into, Caite leapt nimbly to her bare feet and bounded along the drafty plank floor until she reached the bed. Before she could change her mind, she hopped onto the lumpy straw mattress and pulled the single wool blanket up to her chin. Quickly, she scooted herself over next to the wall as far as she could go, aiming to leave plenty of room for Jed. After all, she had meant what she said about being able to resist impropriety. Had she not?
"I ... I'm ready, Jed,” she called softly. Her stomach churned with anticipation. It was all fine and good to have made the offer to share the bed with him all night, but now, when it was actually going to happen, her insides were as knotted as a pair of stockings in a washtub.
"I'll be there in a minute."
Caite thought his voice sounded a trifle strained, and her stomach once more fluttered. Maybe Jed was just as nervous as she. They had shared some pretty passionate kisses. Maybe he was afraid, as she was, that being so close would cause them to forget themselves.
"I brought an extra blanket.” Jed stood awkwardly by the side of the bed for a minute. Then, he shook the folded cover out to its full size and laid it gingerly atop her. Still, he stood, looking everywhere but at her.
"Are you going to get in, Jed?” Caite felt very bold suddenly. “You're going to catch cold."
Jed nodded, then abruptly slid between the covers. Caite gasped a little at the touch of his icy feet against her just-warmed legs, then laughed. After a moment, Jed laughed, too. For five minutes the bed shook with their combined mirth as each expended their nervous energy through laughter.
Finally, wiping tears from her eyes, Caite managed to control herself. “I'm not sure what was so amusing, Jed, but thank you for laughing with me."
Jed tipped an imaginary hat to her. “You're mighty welcome there, Miss Caite."
Once she stopped laughing, Caite became excruciatingly aware of how small the bed really was. Despite being pressed against the wall, and Jed nearly hanging over the other edge, their bodies were still uncomfortably close. It doesn't have to be uncomfortable, she thought against her will. This bed could be just the right size for two people in love.
She blushed, suddenly wanting nothing more than to take back the offer of sharing this lumpy mattress with Jed. Even sleeping on the floor could not be worse than this torture. He was so close, and yet she was unable to touch him. And shame on her for even thinking such things! What was it about this man, this moody, arrogant man that could make her into just the hoyden he thought she was?
"Tell me about yourself, Jed,” she said to quell her impure thoughts.
Jed turned his head to look at her, brow furrowed. “What do you want to know?"
"Oh, about your parents, anything.” Caite waved her hand airily as if she had personal conversations while lying almost naked in bed with near strangers every day.
"You want to know about my family?” Jed seemed surprised, but shrugged. The action brought his shoulder into contact with hers for one brief, tantalizing second before they were no longer touching again.
"Of course I do. I want to know everything about you, Jed."
Curling his left arm behind his head, Jed settled his body further into the mattress before he replied. “Well, my mother died about three years ago. Her name was Heather."
"Heatherfield,” said Caite softly. The name of the ranch made sense now. “How beautiful."
Jed smiled. Once more, Caite's insides fluttered. It seemed, despite her best intentions, she was going to keep imagining the sorts of things proper girls did not think about. So she was no proper girl ... What of it, she thought defiantly. She relished the sight of Jed's smile some more. This man was going to be her husband. She guessed she could look at him if she wanted.
"Mama was beautiful."
"How did she die, Jed?” Caite bit her lip. Perhaps that was an indelicate question. Jed did not seem to take offense.
"She took sick. Influenza. We lost a lot of people in Lonesome that year.” Jed paused for a moment. “That's when I lost my wife, Patricia."
At the sound of the other woman's name, Caite felt a sharp stab in her heart. Jealousy? “You must miss her very much."
"Sometimes,” Jed said. “But me and Trish, well ... I'd known her all my life just about, but I never really knew her as my wife. She liked to keep to herself. Besides, we weren't married very long."
"But you must have loved her,” Caite said.
"Love?” Jed chuckled a little bitterly. “Let's just say I tried to."
"I'm not sure I understand.” Caite was confused by his strange tone.
"How can you love someone who just sucks in everything you give her and never gives it back?” Jed asked. “She had me dancing rings around her just to get a smile. The more I told her I loved her, the further away she got. Finally, I reckon I just ran out of love to give her."
Ca
ite's heart sank. It would have been difficult enough to battle the memory of a beloved wife. Trying to combat the damage done by an emotional void like Patricia would be nearly impossible.
But what was she thinking? How selfish of her to be worrying about such things. It was Jed who had suffered them.
"I am sorry,” she offered.
Jed looked at her. “Don't be. My problems with Trish don't have anything to do with you."
"She must've left something good with you,” Caite said, thinking of the son Pastor Jonas had mentioned.
Jed appeared to think. “Nope, I'm sorry to say she didn't. And the thing is I'm the one who feels guilty about that. Like it was my fault she couldn't trust anyone to enough to love them back."
"What about your son?"
He looked at her curiously. “Son?"
Caitleen faltered. Clearly Jed had no idea about what she was saying. “Pastor Jonas said you had a son."
Jed shook his head. “Trish and I had no children. It's just as well, I reckon. I don't guess I'd be much of a father."
Caite frowned. The pastor had specifically mentioned a boy child. Obviously, Jonas had been wrong. Oh, well. She had rushed him rather unmercifully to find a place for her in the program. He had sifted through an entire stack of papers before she had agreed to Jed Peters and Lonesome, Montana. Most likely, the pastor had gotten one name mixed up with another.
Against her will, she felt a glint of pleasure at the knowledge any children she brought into the marriage would be a first for both of them. Except, of course, that Jed had just declared he was not cut out for fatherhood.
"Why ever not?” Caite asked. “Why would you not make a good father, Jed?"
Jed looked at her levelly, one handsome brow cocked. “In case you hadn't noticed, Miss Chatterbox, I don't reckon I'd ever win any awards for patience."
