Lucky Bride

by Ana Seymour

  He nestled Molly in his arms and began with short, tender kisses that covered her face. When she sought his mouth, he pulled away. “This is the last time I’m going to give you the chance to get up and walk out of this room,” he said huskily.

  “I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” she whispered back. “My legs feel like jelly.”

  He’d seen her strong limbs in trousers, hugging the sides of her horse. He’d seen them outlined by the shimmery satin of her silver dress. He’d seen them in his dreams, entwined with his own. He ran a hand along the length of first one, then the other. “No, they don’t,” he murmured. “They feel firm and long—just like the rest of your beautiful body.”

  His hands moved to her waist, then upward to the swell of her breasts. “Firm and beautiful,” he said again, touching their fullness for the first time. “I want to feel them bare in my hands, Molly. May I?”

  Without waiting for permission, he moved her a distance away and started to remove her clothing. Molly had ceased thinking the minute his hands had begun their exploration. She had almost ceased breathing, until a sudden tightness in her chest made her take a deep gulp of air. She was grateful for the darkness as she felt the unfamiliar sensation of a man’s hands tending to her like a chamber maid. He seemed more than familiar with women’s clothing, but she pushed the implications of that thought out of her mind. Tonight she didn’t care. She wanted Parker and she wanted to learn what it was to make love. Tomorrow, if necessary, she’d deal with any aftereffects, ramifications, guilt.

  He’d shed his own clothing, too, and now laid her back against the blankets and began to explore with gentle strokes. “You’ve a body meant for love, Molly,” he said in her ear. “You quiver like a drawn bow when I touch you.”

  “I can feel your fingertips all the way inside me,” she said with wonder. Then she gave a little gasp as the tips reached her nipples and began a rhythmic massage.

  “You’ll feel this, too.” He bent to replace his fingers with his lips and gently sucked. She lay passively beneath him. “You feel it all the way to here, don’t you, sweetheart?” He laid his hand carefully over her private woman’s place. And it was true. The tugging at her breast seemed to radiate downward until she felt swollen there, though he had yet to touch her. “Do you feel it?” he asked again, placing one finger barely inside her.

  She moaned then, and there was no more time for talking as he released her breast and once again took possession of her mouth. With increasing desperation he stoked the fire that had flared inside them both, waiting to make himself one with her until she was open and seeking, holding back at the last minute for fear he would hurt her.

  But here her well-honed horsewoman’s body worked to his advantage. She welcomed him into her without a murmur and joined the frenzied thrust and pull of their bodies with a passion to rival his own. In fact, she was the first to clutch at him as the quick, white-hot climax overtook them both.

  They lay very still afterward, stone heavy. Parker’s head was on her chest. After a moment he chuckled, which was the last reaction Molly had been expecting. “What’s funny?” she asked warily.

  He rolled to one side and leaned his head on his arm. Their eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, and the starlight through the bunkhouse’s solitary window was enough to allow him to see the white curves of her body. He traced.a finger limply along from her neck to her navel and tried to answer her question. “You…me. I don’t know. I was going to try to be so careful and controlled because it was your first time, and instead…” He leaned down to kiss her mouth. “I was about as controlled as a prize stallion.”

  “Isn’t it always like that?”

  He chuckled again at the sweet naiveté in her voice. “Hardly.”

  “Well, that’s too bad, because I think I rather liked it that way.”

  He dropped his head heavily to her chest once again. “I can almost assure you that you’ll have the chance to do it that way again,” he said dryly.

  “Although slow might be nice, too, now that I think about it. Is slow nice, too?”

  Parker groaned. “Yes, slow’s nice, too. But you might want to take things a little easy, sweetheart. This is your first time.”

  Molly appeared to consider for a minute. “I’m not at all tired,” she said matter-of-factly. “I don’t see any reason to stop yet.”

  Parker smiled in the darkness as he felt the familiar surges. His body evidently shared Molly’s opinion. He lifted his head. “Well, we’ll take it slow, then, this time, shall we, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, please,” she whispered.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Molly briefly considered staying with Parker until morning. She had found their lovemaking so wonderful that she felt she didn’t care if the entire world knew about it. But then she thought about how scandalized her sisters and Smokey would be, and she decided that she had better, for perhaps the first time, keep a momentous event in her life to herself.

  Parker walked with her back to the house before dawn and kissed her at the doorway before he let her go.

  “You could invite me to move back into your father’s bedroom,” he teased gently. “Then you’d just have to sneak down a little bitty hall to my bed.”

  “Do you think I’m a coward for keeping it secret?”

  He planted a kiss on her nose. “Of course not. What we had last night was a private thing—it’s no one else’s business but ours. I just don’t know how long we’re going to be able to keep it secret when every time you look at me like… like you’re looking at me now, I’m going to want to snatch you up in my arms and carry you off to the nearest pile of soft hay.”

  Molly laughed and bent the top of her head into his chest. “But you will restrain the impulse, right?”

  He ruffled his hands through her thoroughly mussed hair. “As long as I know I can have you in my bed after everyone else is asleep.”

  She turned up her face for a kiss. “I’m already wishing it was night again.”

  Parker looked off to the east. “We might have another half hour or so before it gets light….”

  She pushed on his chest and he stumbled backward on the porch. “I thought you said we should be taking it easy, since it was…you know…my first time.”

  “I did, but that was before I realized that I’d tangled myself up with some kind of Amazon woman.”

  Molly wrinkled up her nose. “Amazon?”

  “From mythology. They were supposedly a race of women who were tremendously strong. They kept men around solely to serve their needs.”

  “Smart ladies.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know how some Amazons got transported all the way out to Wyoming, but I’m starting to feel like that’s where I’ve ended up.”

  “Hmm. You sound as if you’re not too happy about it. Perhaps you’re the one who needs the rest, tenderfoot. Should I not bother to come out to you tonight?”

  He grabbed her against him and kissed her thoroughly until she went pliant in his arms. “Only if you want me coming in to get you. I’m fine either way.”

  “But then you might have to tangle with my Am… Amazon sisters.”

  He leaned close and bit her earlobe, then whispered, “I’d fight a whole army of Amazons to get to you, boss lady.”

  She laughed happily, kissing him yet again, then finally, reluctantly, opened the front door and slipped inside.

  It was a good thing she hadn’t decided to declare her new relationship and stay with Parker, she realized as she went down to breakfast to find an early visitor sitting at the table with Smokey. It was a man she’d never seen before, but he had a marshal’s gold badge pinned on his leather vest. Both men stood as she entered the room.

  “Good morning, Molly,” Smokey said. “This is Marshal Tichenor over from Laramie. He’s come about your letter.”

  It took a couple of minutes for Molly to realize what letter Smokey was talking about, then she was embarrassed at how something so important
could have slid into the background. She’d always heard that falling in love made people crazier than a coyote on locoweed, and now she knew what they’d been talking about.

  “My letter about the lynching, of course. I’m glad you’ve come, Marshal. It’s been hard for me to believe that no one has done anything about such a travesty of justice.”

  She motioned to the marshal to resume his seat, and he did so with a little nod. He was a tall, good-looking man, surprisingly young for such an important position. “I’ve talked to Sheriff Benton, Miss Hanks,” he said. “He claims that the men that night were duly deputized and that a trial was held.”

  She took her seat across from him. “There was no trial, Marshal. Not even a semblance of one.”

  “And you’d swear in court to that fact?”

  He had a no-nonsense demeanor that Molly liked instantly, quite a change from Sam Benton, whose weak-kneed groveling to the richest ranchers in the territory was well-known. Every rancher’s son sowing his oats knew that Canyon City was safe haven. Any trouble with the law and Sheriff Benton would be more than happy to overlook it after the right threats or bribes.

  “I’d swear to it, Marshal.”

  “If you don’t mind my putting this plain, Miss Hanks, are you sure you’ve thought this through? You’re not likely to make any friends with your neighbors if you have me pursue this matter.”

  “Pursue what matter?” Parker appeared in the dining-room doorway.

  Molly turned to him and tried to keep the quick flush of pleasure from showing on her face. In a clean white shirt and tight jeans, he looked more handsome than ever. And his smile for her was so personal, it almost felt as if he had touched her.

  “Parker, this is Marshal Tichenor. He’s here to investigate the lynching of Ole Pedersson. He’s warning me that people won’t like it if I testify about what really happened. But that seems a little irrelevant at the moment. After all, a man’s dead.”

  Parker paused a moment. Could the mysterious accidents around the Lucky Stars have something to do with the vigilantes? he wondered. The cattle had been scattered before the night of the lynching, but perhaps that had been just a cougar after all. He walked across the room and reached to shake hands with the marshal, introducing himself with a smile and a firm nod. “Parker Prescott, Marshal.” Then he turned to Molly and said, “He might have a point. You’ll make a lot of enemies if you try to tell about that night. I, however, can tell the story just as well, and I’m not worried about reprisals.”

  “I’d want a deposition from both of you,” the marshal told them. “Whether it would ever come to testifying in court, I have my doubts. The territory has been terribly lax with vigilantism up to now. It’s something I’d like to see changed.”

  Molly had been absently toying with the biscuit on her plate. She hadn’t eaten a bite. Though she was still feeling a glow from Parker’s presence, the horrors of that night had begun to come back to her. “We’ll do whatever’s necessary, Marshal.”

  Tichenor gave a nod of approval. “You’re a brave lady. I’d like to start out with a list of the men who were on the posse. Do you think you can remember?”

  Molly’s eyes met those of Parker, who smiled his encouragement. “I can remember,” she said grimly.

  “What’s the matter with you, Molly?” Susannah asked sharply. “That’s the third time you’ve jabbed me with those things.”

  Molly had promised to cut her sister’s hair that evening, but her mind was already out in the darkened bunkhouse where Parker was waiting for her. There had been three more long nights since they first made love, each more wondrous than the last. And she found that the experience seemed to have possessed every moment of her day—waking and sleeping. She had no desire to eat. She lost track of conversations in midsentence. She had absolutely no concentration. Susannah was right to complain—she could cut her sister’s throat without even realizing it.

  “I’m sorry. My hands just don’t seem to want to do what I tell them today.” She held out the scissors. “Why don’t you have Mary Beth cut it?”

  “Mary Beth’s gone to sleep. I declare, she takes to her bed earlier and earlier these days. I don’t understand it.”

  “These last days of winter are tedious. But spring’s not far away. Then she’ll feel better.”

  “I don’t notice you in any doldrums,” Susannah observed. “In fact, if I didn’t know that the idea was ridiculous, I’d say my big sister has fallen in love.”

  “Why do you think it’s ridiculous?” She took the scissors back and snipped absently at Susannah’s golden curls.

  “Why, because my big sister always told me that love was for…’simpering ninnies’ I believe was the term.”

  Molly smiled ruefully. “Was I that insufferable?”

  “More. But I forgive you. So… are you?”

  “Falling in love?”

  “No…planning the spring roundup. Yes, falling in love.”

  Molly didn’t know how to answer her sister. Was the exhilaration of these past four nights love? Was it the way Parker’s smile and his voice and his walk and everything about him sang in her heart all day long— was that love? “I guess I am,” she said slowly.

  Susannah gave a whoop of triumph. “Who’d have ever thought that you’d be the first of us? Of course, it’s supposed to be the oldest first, but I’d always considered that you’d die before you’d let a man turn your head.”

  “People change, I guess.”

  “I guess. Well, now you’ll have to help me find someone. Have you told Jeremy yet?” She whooped again. “He’ll have a fit.”

  “There’s…I haven’t told Jeremy anything. There’s nothing to tell.”

  “He’d undoubtedly disagree with you there. He thinks he’s staked a claim on you, sis.”

  “Well, he can think again. No man has a claim on me—not Jeremy, not Parker.” She threw the scissors down in exasperation. “That’ll do for now. It looks fine.”

  Susannah looked into the hand mirror with a dubious expression. “I’ll get Mary Beth to work with it in the morning,” she said with a sigh. “Are you going out to the barn now?”

  “I always go out to the barn at this time of night.”

  “But it didn’t used to take you half the night to check on a few stall latches.” Molly blushed and started toward the door. “Ah, young love,” Susannah continued breezily. When the door had closed behind her sister, Susannah smiled and said to herself softly, “You may not realize it yet, Molly, but sometimes claims are staked and filed when we’re not even looking.”

  Molly hesitated before opening the door to the bunkhouse. The conversation with Susannah had disturbed her a little. She had been so caught up in the excitement of her union with Parker, she hadn’t given thought to what it all meant—to her, to her sisters, to the ranch. She didn’t want to think about Jeremy Dickerson’s reaction to her liaison with the hired hand. She didn’t want to know if Parker considered he had staked a claim on her. They’d never discussed it. Indeed, they’d been too busy exploring one another to discuss much of anything. But she was sure of one thing—he’d never used the word love. Not once.

  The door opened and Parker stood there, bootless, his shirt hanging open. “I thought I heard your step. Why didn’t you come in?”

  His voice alone was enough to send a wave of feeling plummeting through her middle. “Maybe I was wondering if you really wanted me here. I’ve come every night. Perhaps you’re tired.”

  Parker looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. Then his dark eyes narrowed and he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  She took a deep breath. “Nothing. I just… Susannah knows about us.”

  The concern in his eyes was replaced by a look of relief. “Oh, is that all? Well, I told you we wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret.”

  “She thinks I’m falling in love with you.” Molly drew in a breath and held it.

  Parker frowned. He bent his head and tried to read her expressio
n. Something was wrong—more than just Susannah finding out about their trysts. He took her hand and led her toward the bunk. “It’s a natural assumption, sweetheart. It normally goes along with—” he gestured toward the bed “—with what we’ve been doing.”

  It wasn’t quite the declaration Molly had been hoping for. It just skirted the edge of things—talking around it without any real commitment. “Do you think I’m falling in love with you?” she asked.

  He seated her on the bed and sat beside her, leaving a little distance between them. “I don’t know, Amazon,” he said lightly. “You haven’t left me much time or strength to discuss the matter.”

  “So it’s just been…physical.”

  Parker rolled his eyes. He supposed the uncomplicated bliss of the past few nights could not be expected to last, but blast it if females didn’t have a way of making simple things hard. “Of course it hasn’t been just physical, Molly. Two people can’t experience together what we have if it’s just physical.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly,” he said firmly, reaching for her with a vain hope that the discussion was over.

  She pushed him back, her natural curiosity momentarily superseding the other issues. “Then how do you explain that men—you know—pay for women to do what we’ve been doing?”

  Parker was taken aback once again by her bluntness. “Jesus, Molly. It’s not the same thing at all. You’re trying to compare a strictly physical sensation with a—” he groped for the words “—a very special communion between two people who care about each other… who…”

  “Who love each other?” she asked softly.

  Parker was silent for a long time. Too long.

  She looked down at her hands. “It’s that girl, isn’t it? The one you called for when you were sick.”

  Parker leaned over and tried to weave his fingers into her clasped hands. She moved them away. “Is she waiting for you out in California?” she asked.