Bewitching Bret

by Cheri Chaise

  And now she’d suffered through not only the loss of her husband, but the death of our father as well. The last sturdy male protector was gone from her life.

  Not that my father had demonstrated a protective nature toward me. At least not in those last years anyway. I’d always wondered if he’d ever given a single thought toward me since I’d left. I had always hoped time apart might bring about a mending of the rift between us. After all, he’d doted on me so much during my younger years. Surely he would reach out to me before the end.

  But now it was too late. Death had the final say.

  I yearned to awaken dear Abby to ask after a note. A missive. Any kind word from our father before he’d succumbed to his death bed. But I just continued to press the cool cloth against my sister’s fevered brow.

  The poor dear had been plagued with headaches from time-to-time, especially since making the transition from childhood to that of a young lady. But Mrs. Barker had mentioned she’d been brought down by them more and more of late, which contributed to her decision to accompany Abby out here to the untamed wilds. I couldn’t help but wonder if the stresses of the last year had contributed to this state.

  The door behind me creaked open, and Cole stuck his head inside. “How is she?”

  I folded the cloth and laid it gently on Abby’s brow before joining my husband near the door. “A touch of fever, most likely caused by the headache.”

  Green eyes darted over to the sleeping form. “I really tried to make her as comfortable as possible.”

  “I know you did.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed those full lips that I’d missed. “Edna assured me of that too.”

  “Then how’d she get so sick?”

  “I doubt she’s slept much the last few days. It’s not easy to sleep under the stars when you aren’t accustomed to the outdoors.” I cupped a hand around his freshly shaved cheek. “Headaches have grown rather common for her, I’m afraid. But she’ll be fine after some rest in a real bed.”

  Cole’s expression morphed from one of concern to one of interest. “Speaking of beds…” He wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me against his hardening manhood. “I think it’s about time you came to ours.”

  Liquid heat pooled between my thighs as he took my lips in a more passionate kiss. When his tongue thrust against mine with a groan, I pulled back.

  “I need to turn down the lamp and clean up here.”

  The heat of his ardor trailed kissed down my neck. “Damn, Stella, I need you.” His breath was hot in my ear, his whisper more of a growl. “Need to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until you scream my name.”

  I gasped as he cupped my heavy breast and teased the nipple to a solid knifepoint. “Cole…we have guests in the house.”

  “Then I’ll only fuck your pussy until I scream.”

  I heard the devious grin in his voice. My blood thundered and raced beneath my skin, but I pressed both hands against his broad chest grudgingly. “Just give me a moment, and I’ll be right down.”

  With reluctance, he released me. “Don’t take too long.”

  My husband was insatiable. Home mere hours after an exhausting journey, and instead of sleep he was ready to take liberties. The very idea that we’d make such noise with a house full of company brought scandalous warmth to my cheeks.

  Both Edna and my sister had known the joys of the marriage bed, though Abby had never had to worry about anyone overhearing in that large home she’d shared with her husband. Though I never knew Edna’s circumstances before her husband was killed during the War Between the States, surely she’d lived under lesser means.

  But would either really believe I’d remain chaste while they were under our roof? After all, I was a married woman. I was used to sharing my bed and body with my husbands.

  Husband.

  The thought brought a painful squeeze to my heart as I tiptoed quietly down the stairs to see the lamp lit and Bret reading one of the new medical journals Cole had picked up for him in town.

  Our eyes met in the soft dance of light. The fireplace crackled and popped just like the air between us.

  Bret tucked a place marker in between the book’s pages and sat up. “How’s your sister?”

  I swallowed the knot in my throat. “A slight fever still, but she’s resting as comfortably as possible.”

  I rounded the corner into the kitchen and placed the basin and cloth on the counter. Tears pricked my eyes as I thought of my dear sensual husband out there, spending the night on the lumpy sofa. All alone.

  But this was how it had to be. For now. Just until I was able to ascertain exactly what Abby’s plans truly were.

  “I’ll keep an ear out and check on her during the night,” Bret offered as I strolled back through the open living area.

  I hesitated, wringing my hands. “Do you have enough blankets?”

  “I’m fine.” There was no hint of accusation in the words.

  But I felt it all the same. “Bret, I…”

  “Goodnight, Essie.” He leaned back against the pillow and opened the book in silent dismissal.

  But he’d called me Essie. Still used the term of endearment he’d saddled me with from almost the moment we’d met. Since the first time we’d made love.

  And it sent shivers up my spine. “Goodnight, Bret.”

  But my sorrow remained. It remained when I walked into my bedroom to find Cole naked in our bed, stroking his long, hard, and ready manhood. It remained even when I removed every stitch of clothing to sink down onto my husband’s thick firmness.

  “Oh, Stella,” he groaned, thrusting up to meet each downward push of my hips. Skin slapping against skin in ever increasing fury.

  Until the squeak and creak of the bedroom door stilled our passions.

  Cole sat up and held me to him. “You can’t be in here, Drew. Not while we have company.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see the youngest brother, watching as he so often liked to during our lovemaking. His trousers were already open, his hand griped firmly around his hardened and thick manhood, the velvety head bulbous with need.

  “Oh…come in,” I whispered, the desire to have him in my mouth overtaking rational thought. “But you have to be quiet.”

  That goofy grin I loved so much stretched his cheeks and brightened his eyes as Drew climbed onto the bed. His tip glistened with salty cum, the groan as I licked and traced my tongue through the slit the signal for Cole to begin thrusting anew.

  There was nothing that sent me soaring more than having my husbands gathered together in my bed. Caressing my breasts and pinching my nipples as Drew so often did. Kissing every inch of me. Worshiping at the altar of my body. The only thing that would’ve made this moment of sensuous pleasure complete were if Bret snuck in to join us.

  But no matter how much I licked. How hard I sucked. How forceful the pumps and thrusts between my legs grew, he never showed.

  After days without release, I quickly came undone when Cole reached between us to generously stroke my swollen nub – reminding again of the absence of Bret’s stimulating tongue.

  Even after finding mutual satisfaction, I lay against Cole’s strong and sweaty chest, waiting for our panting to subside. When he sent Drew off back to his room, the sorrow washed over me anew at missing the thing that would bring our lovemaking to full completion.

  The languorous caresses along my hip. The warmth cocooning me from the backside. The other voice I’d grown so accustomed to hearing as I drifted off to a satisfied sleep.

  The tickle of breath against my neck as Bret softly whispered I love you, Essie.

  But tonight I wouldn’t hear those sweet words. I wondered how I’d survive before hearing them again. How we’d survive before Bret was once again beside me. In our bed.

  Cole’s snores covered over my sniffles as I finally gave vent to my sorrow.

  And allowed the tears to fall.

  Chapter Ten

  Bret

  There wasn’t any point in sta
ying on the hard, lumpy sofa any longer. I felt, more than saw, the sun creeping toward the horizon after a sleepless night of tossing and turning.

  I threw off the blankets and banked the still glowing coals in the fireplace before piling on more wood to get the fire going again in the chill morning air. Then I donned a shirt, hiked up my suspenders and tugged on my boots, coat, and hat before slinging on my guns and grabbing the lantern to head out into the darkness of pre-dawn.

  The chickens were already stirring as I opened the henhouse door to give them free rein for the day. Disgruntled clucks were aimed my way as I invaded their abode and feathers scattered and floated around me as I gathered the freshly laid eggs to cradle them in my hands.

  My big, dark hands.

  I sighed. I couldn’t stay mad at Essie. Couldn’t really blame her for wanting to present a front to her sister. She was right, after all.

  We truly were insulated here on the ranch, creating our own rules for how we lived. The outside world only recognized marriage as between one man and one woman. The register at Fort Union even recorded only one Cole Carston as marrying one Estella Davies. I wasn’t even notated as a witness for my brother. That honor went to Evan as the second-born.

  But having been the first to take her physically had knitted not just my body with hers, but my soul as well. Only death could sever us now.

  Which might very well be mine before the weeks of this visit were over.

  The only way I’d survive not touching our wife was to avoid her as much as possible. Stay as busy around the ranch as much as I could, which wouldn’t be hard with all the work needed to prepare for winter’s arrival.

  We’d soon need to haul hay around the ranch for our cattle herds, which would take up a few days. And I still had plenty of training to do with the yearling before his new owner took possession.

  Though I’d much rather keep him around for Cole to use instead of Buck. However, getting my stubborn brother to consider another mount besides his trusty horse was a fight I wasn’t yet willing to undertake. Not when I had enough trouble keeping things cool between Essie and I.

  How I hoped we’d be able to readily pick up again after we had the house back to ourselves. For now, I’d respect her wishes. Keep to myself. Avoid her heated gaze as much as possible.

  No matter how much my cock hardened at the mere thought of my wife.

  Cole’s wife, I reluctantly reminded myself.

  “You’re awfully quiet over here.”

  Dammit! For the second time in the same week I’d been taken unawares.

  Cole sidled up beside me and started filling his large hands with eggs. “That big brain of yours is chewin’ awfully hard on something there, brother. Wanna talk about it?”

  I moved to the other side of the henhouse and continued plucking up eggs, having to remind myself to be gentle before I cracked and spilled the yoke of every single one of them. “You’re up early.”

  “So are you.”

  Gently hold the eggs. Gently broach this subject. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d get started on the day’s work.”

  He grunted, ready to call me out on my shit. But he didn’t. At least not exactly. “We missed you last night.”

  My turn to grunt. “That’s not what it sounded like.”

  Matter of fact the noises they’d made last night only served to emphasize what I was missing. Cole’s muttered dirty words describing every inch of Essie’s luxurious body as he licked, sucked, and fucked her. Essie’s gasps and mewls of desire as he sank his cock into her sweet heat and toyed with her swollen button of pleasure.

  Their muted cries of release that only served to emphasize the fact that there were others in our house, which was why I was relegated to the fucking sofa. And forced to ignore my throbbing balls and aching cock when all I wanted to do was storm into the bedroom and plunge in.

  Just like my little brother had, damn him.

  “Hmm…that’s strange,” Cole muttered.

  “What’s strange?” I was glad for the distraction to have something else to think about besides hot pussies and my once again aching balls.

  “These nests are empty.”

  “It’s not unusual to have an empty next or two, brother. Especially when the weather starts changing.”

  “I know that,” he acknowledged with a snort. “But to have twelve nests completely empty? And all in a row?”

  I glanced through the ones where he stood at the end of the line. Sure enough, all were bereft of even a single egg. “Maybe Cookie’s already been out and started on breakfast for the hands.”

  “I didn’t hear any activity over at the bunkhouse or smell anything on the way over here. Did you?”

  I took a quick sniff of the air, but all I could smell was the musty scent of the henhouse. And plenty of chicken shit. “Doesn’t smell like anything appetizing to me.”

  Cole pooled his eggs with mine before stepping out of the henhouse and glancing around the yard. I dumped the eggs as gently as possible into the closest nests then followed after to find him surveying the dirt before staring off into the trees that lined the meadow toward the back side of our homestead.

  “You see something?” I whispered, crouching down beside him.

  His gaze darted down to the dirt. “What do you see there?”

  I stared in the growing hint of light at a line of smudges on the ground. Smudges that looked like they could’ve been boot prints before the chickens fluttered about and scattered the dust, stopping when they reached the grass that separated the stables from the bunkhouse.

  Headed straight for the meadow.

  Cole didn’t wait for my response. He grabbed the lantern I’d hung inside the henhouse and together we crept toward the grass. I silently slid my guns from their holsters and took up a protective crouch beside my brother while he inspected the ground. I might not be near the caliber of shooter Evan was, but I could still hold my own in a fight if need be.

  We stayed as low to the ground as possible to make our targets small. But we were still sitting ducks out here if we had someone sneaking around our property. Even with the stables and the bunkhouse not too far away on either side, there wasn’t a man alive who could outrun a bullet.

  “Someone was definitely out here,” Cole finally said after studying the line of footprints. “The grass even shows a line of hoof prints beside these boot marks too.”

  “Do you think it’s just from when the horses were led to the stables last night? We had a lot of activity going on yesterday when you all arrived.”

  “But these don’t go toward the bunkhouse or the stables,” my brother observed. “Just into the henhouse and out toward the meadow.”

  He glanced behind us toward the yard as the sky lightened even more. “Almost like someone rode up to the homestead, decided to steal some eggs, then rode off through the meadow headed south.”

  “I didn’t hear any disturbance during the night,” I offered, uncocking and tucking away my guns.

  My brother hiked a brow at me over his shoulder. “You can sleep pretty hard there, brother. Like the dead.”

  “When I can sleep,” I muttered. But I’d obviously drifted off for a little while at least once during the long night.

  Cole stood and brushed his hands off on his trousers. “Maybe it was just a hungry traveler passing through.”

  I was willing to concede that – until another thought hit me. “Didn’t you say something about some abandoned claims being available contiguous to our land?”

  “Yeah. Down…” He stopped and turned back toward the meadow. “…south.”

  “You don’t suppose it might have anything to do with those no-good…”

  “Morning, cousins!”

  As one, Cole and I glanced over toward the bunkhouse to see Seth sauntering across the yard on a trajectory headed our way. His sandy hair was disheveled and his suspenders hung from his waist as if he’d just crawled out of bed, shoved his boots on, and come scampering outside for
a stroll.

  “Morning, Seth,” Cole returned as if we were just standing out here enjoying the cool, crisp autumn morning. “What brings you out here this morning?”

  “Cookie asked me to come out and grab and dozen or so eggs for breakfast.”

  “That so?”

  I didn’t bother hiking my brow as Cole and I shared a silent exchange. “A dozen or so you say?”

  Seth stopped next to the henhouse. “Yeah…why, is something wrong with me gatherin’ ‘em?”

  “No,” Cole said. “But we already took care of the gathering.”

  The grin dissipated. “Oh. Then what are the hands gonna eat?”

  “Tell Cookie we’ll run some over in a bit.”

  The Drew-like grin returned. “Alrighty then. I’ll get Sean up, and we’ll be over at the house in just a few.”

  Our cousin turned on his heel and sauntered back the way he’d come.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, brother?” Cole murmured without moving his watchful gaze from Seth’s retreating back.

  “That we might need to keep a closer eye on those two?”

  My brother nodded once. “Something like that.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Estella

  The house was usually dark and quiet when I rose each morning. Without a hungry infant to nurse at my breast, I relished the time to myself when I was the first one up to stir the glowing fireplace coals.

  The first strike of the match as I lit the kitchen lantern, filling the room with the soft warmth of light.

  The scent of burning wood as I stoked the kitchen stove.

  The feel of dough between my fingers as I kneaded and cut biscuit rounds for breakfast.

  Cole’s warm welcome by the time he strolled in with a few handfuls of eggs from the henhouse to kiss me deeply, even after a night of thorough lovemaking.

  And after nearly a week apart, my husband had been very thorough last night in that department – and I’d welcomed every touch, taste, and thrust of his manhood each time I awoke to his amorous need to fill me. For the first time since Bret had vacated our bed, I’d slept warm all wrapped in the strong, safe arms of my husband.