A Convenient Wife

by Carolyn Davidson

  Releasing her from his touch, he walked to the front window and pulled the draperies together, closing out the twilight. Making his way around the room, he brought the parlor doors together with a soft thud, then blew out the lamp, casting the room into shadows. Only the candles on the Christmas tree lit his way as he returned to her. Ellie watched, her heart quickening as his strong hands lifted her against himself, then lowered her to the carpet beneath the shelter of evergreen branches.

  “Are we going to make love?” she asked in a hushed whisper, her hands already busy with the buttons of his waistcoat, and the shirt beneath it. “Will it be all right?”

  His nod was her only reply, and then he was tugging at an afghan from the sofa, lifting her to place it beneath her. She did as he asked, turning away as his hands worked at the buttons on her dress, his fingers touching the column of her spine and leaving soft shivers of awareness in their wake. So easily he slid the clothing from her, so gently he arranged her before himself, she was lulled into his spell, could only gaze into the warmth of his eyes and inhale the scent of shaving soap and the male aroma his body exuded.

  He slid from his trousers, casting them aside impatiently, then returned to her, his hands refuting the hasty gestures he’d employed while stripping from his clothing. Now they were gentle, tender and unhurried as he prepared her for his taking. His mouth was warm and damp against her skin, his fingers careful as he handled delicate flesh, his words soft and persuasive as he coaxed her along the path he’d set for her to travel.

  She followed where he led, more than willing to do as he bid, her legs enclosing him in their grasp, her hands searching out the places of pleasure she knew would bring groans and murmurs from his lips. It had been long weeks since their last coming together, and Win’s heartbeat was heavy against her, his hands trembling as he formed her breasts with his fingers and palms.

  And then he sought the source of her pleasure, the delicate tissues of her womanhood, and she lifted to his touch, her body eager for the fulfillment he brought to her needy flesh.

  So gently he caressed her, so tenderly he led her, she was aware only of the witchery of clever fingers against delicate flesh. Her eyes opened as the captivating lure of ecstasy to come held her in its thrall, her body quivering with the delight he offered. The candles blurred in her sight, casting a nimbus of light around the head and shoulders of the man hovering over her, and she cried out, a high keening sound that shivered in the silence.

  “Ah, Ellie,” he whispered, his breathing harsh as he took her with slow, measured strokes, barely penetrating, yet filling her with the joy of his possession. He shuddered in her arms, bending to press kisses against her face and throat. And she clasped him against herself, unwilling to allow him escape from her embrace.

  From the cradle, a soft whimper announced the awakening of her child, and Ellie felt the rush of warmth in her breasts as milk filled her to overflowing. Win chuckled against her throat.

  “We woke her.” His words were filled with satisfaction as he lifted himself on his forearms and looked down at the dampness seeping from Ellie’s breasts. “You’re ready to nurse, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “All I have to hear is one peep, and I overflow.”

  Reluctantly, he rose, stepped into his trousers and drew them on, then reached for the cradle. The bundle was small, and he lifted her easily, holding her against his cheek. Grace nuzzled eagerly, and Win’s chuckle warmed Ellie’s heart. “Your mama has more to offer than I,” he said, his lips brushing myriad kisses across the tiny face.

  Ellie sat up, and Win shook his head, snatching a pillow from the sofa and placing it on the afghan. “Stay there and nurse her, why don’t you?” He offered the babe into Ellie’s arms, then reached for a clean diaper from the cradle. With gentle movements, he placed it where so recently his seed had been spent. Then his hands were deft, wrapping both woman and child within the colorful warmth of the knitted covering. “I’ll sort things out,” he murmured, “and then we’ll go to bed.”

  Too content to protest, feeling pampered and well loved, Ellie could only nod her agreement. She turned to her side and looked down at the babe who had found the nourishment she craved. Her arms cradled the small bundle, and she allowed her gaze to rest on the packages Win had piled beneath the tree. She’d added her own assortment only this morning, and she thought of the precious moments they would share as they opened the gifts together on Christmas morning.

  “Thank you, God,” she whispered, her eyes closing in slumber. And never knew when she was lifted and carried from the parlor to the bedroom down the hall, only wakening for a moment as she watched Win pin a fresh diaper in place, then hold baby Grace over his shoulder for a moment before he placed her in the crib beside the bed.

  She felt his arms surround her as he gathered her to himself, and she snuggled against his warmth, sighing quietly, repeating the words of thanksgiving again. His voice was a deep rumble in his chest, vibrating against her ear, and she smiled as he whispered his love in her ear.

  Epilogue

  Spring came early to Whitehorn. Not so every year, but in all of Ellie’s memory, this was the soonest the flowers had made an appearance. With the threat of snow still a possibility, the tiny violets and patches of trillium beneath the trees at the back of Win’s yard were bravely facing the elements. She pulled the pine needles from around them and admired the delicate blossoms, enthralled at the sight of such beauty.

  “It’s too early to be planting a garden,” a voice said from behind her. “Must be you’re on the lookout for the gold that’s supposed to be buried hereabouts.”

  She turned and smiled, clasping the shovel she’d carried around the yard for the past hour. “I think that’s nothing but hogwash, Sheriff,” she said with a chuckle. “Anyway, nobody in his right mind would bury gold in my backyard. Ethel told me there’s talk that it’s somewhere around the saloon, although how she’d know that is beyond me.

  “I just couldn’t resist turning over a patch of dirt out here, but I’ll admit finding gold never entered my mind. A few earthworms seem more likely. Win warned me I was ahead of myself with the gardening.”

  “Talk of that gold seems to rear its head every so often,” James said nonchalantly. “One of these days it may surface. But I’m not gonna hold my breath.”

  Ellie looked beyond him to the house next door. “Kate’s not home, is she?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m on my way over to the schoolhouse to take her some dinner. Thought I’d bring Tyler back for the afternoon. Things are pretty quiet in town, and I’m taking a couple of hours off.”

  “Why don’t you plan on having supper with us?” Ellie asked eagerly. “I’m cooking Win’s favorite, roast beef.”

  “You sure know all the right moves, young lady,” James said with a grin. “We’ll be here with bells on. Kate’s always ready for a meal at your table.” He shoved his hands deeply into the pockets of his trousers. “Couple of things I need to talk to you about, Ellie. First off, Cilla over at the saloon has disappeared. Some say she ran off with Billy Barnes, but nobody seems to know. I need to hear, should Win catch wind of anything.”

  “I thought she was afraid of him,” Ellie said, remembering the pain Cilla had suffered at the hands of the young man. “Do you suppose—”

  James cut in quickly. “Not much sense in trying to sort it out, honey. Folks are wondering if the gold you’re set on digging up here might not have entered into it.” His grin belied the seriousness of his concern as he gestured at the beginnings of Ellie’s garden plot.

  And then he stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I saw your pa in front of the mercantile a while ago, Ellie.”

  She moved the shovel restlessly, punching a slice of dried grass into the earth. “Did you now?”

  “He asked me if I thought you’d be willing to see him, maybe talk to him.”

  An uneasy spasm touched her midriff and her hand flew there, fingers
clenching as if she could halt the hope that blossomed like the flowers at her feet. “What do you suppose he wants?”

  James shrugged, yet his posture told her he was not totally relaxed. “Who knows? You won’t, unless you speak with him.”

  She tried for nonchalance, but her mouth quivered as the words left her throat, and she knew she’d failed, miserably. “I guess I wouldn’t mind if he stopped by.”

  “I think he wants to see the baby.”

  “He told me there wasn’t squattin’ room for me in his life.” Her tone was bitter as she recalled the man who’d scathingly mocked her.

  “Sometimes folks change,” James said quietly. “Maybe you ought to give him a chance, Ellie. See what he has to say.”

  Hat in hand, George Mitchum stood at the back door, and Ellie thought swiftly of the last time he’d entered her kitchen. Her heart pounded as he stepped past the threshold, and she stood aside, watching as he made his way toward the table, then turned to face her.

  “Sheriff Kincaid said you agreed to talk to me, daughter.” His eyes held a wary question in their depths.

  “What do you want, Pa?” She thrust her hands deeply into her apron pockets and stood her ground.

  “I have a hard time with sayin’ certain words, Ellie,” he began. “But I reckon sometimes it’s easier to eat crow than live with it stickin’ in your craw forever.”

  From the corner of the kitchen, a sound caught his attention and his head moved, his eyes scanning the area like a chicken hawk sighting prey. “That the baby?” he asked, his words gruff, his hands clenching into fists as he waited for Ellie’s reply.

  “Yes, that’s Grace,” she said simply. And then her tender heart relented. “Would you like to see her, Pa?”

  He nodded, inhaling sharply, and pulled a chair from the table, sitting down with a thump. “I guess I’d like to. Maybe you’d let me hold her for a minute.”

  “Maybe.” Ellie lifted the blanket-wrapped child and gazed deeply into dark eyes. So wise and wonderful she looked, this tiny piece of humanity. So precious and perfect, in her pink wrappings, with delicate features and a mop of dark hair that hung in ringlets across her forehead.

  She crossed the floor to her father and placed the bundle in his arms, watching closely as he shifted the babe uneasily for a moment until Grace was settled in the bend of his elbow. And then his head bent and he inspected her small face, touched her arm and then watched with absorbed interest as one infant hand curled around his callused index finger.

  “She’s kinda little, ain’t she?” he asked gruffly. “Grace, did you say her name was?”

  “Yes.” Ellie relaxed, leaning against the buffet, watching carefully.

  “Your grandma on your mother’s side was called Grace.”

  “I know. I named her after my grandmother.”

  “Your ma would have liked that,” he said, nodding his head a bit as he scrutinized the rosebud mouth that opened, the delicate tongue that touched with dainty skill against a lower lip, then retreated. The small nose wrinkled, and a quiver touched the rounded chin as if Grace recognized that a stranger held her. Her mouth opened again and a muted sound that could have been a prelude to a cry came forth.

  “Did I do something wrong?” George asked hastily, glancing up at Ellie and then back down at his granddaughter.

  The brown eyes squinted suddenly and then opened wide as the pink lips opened again, this time in an unmistakable smile. Soft cooing noises accompanied the curving lines, and George looked up at Ellie in surprise. “I think she smiled at me.”

  “I think she likes you,” Ellie said agreeably. “Listen to her, Pa. She’s just learning to make noises.”

  It was a scene he would never forget, Win decided, standing in the hallway and watching through the kitchen door, aware that James had been right in his judgment. The thought of Ellie facing her father again was difficult to swallow, but if George Mitchum was truly wanting to mend fences, Winston Gray would not stand in his way. And so he’d come in the front way, to be there should Ellie need him, but willing to stand clear if things went well.

  And it seemed they had.

  Ellie looked up, as if her inner senses spoke his name, and her eyes lit with a familiar gleam as she caught sight of him. “Come in,” she said, waving him forward. “My father came to meet his granddaughter.”

  “So I see,” Win said amiably, pushing his coat aside and tucking his hand into his pocket. “And does he approve?” The words were aimed at George and held a challenge that was unmistakable in its strength.

  The older man looked up, acknowledging Win’s presence. “How could I help but approve. She looks like her mama, don’t she?”

  “And how do you feel about her mama?” Win asked quietly, aware of Ellie’s stricken features as he spoke the words.

  “I hope her mama’s able to forget all the harm I did to her,” George said bluntly. “It’s lonesome out there on the ranch, and it was a long winter. I did a heap of thinking, sittin’ every night by myself.”

  “And?” Win’s voice did not waver, even as he cast Ellie a warning look.

  “I come to make peace with my girl, Dr. Gray.”

  “And is she willing to accept your apology?” He looked at Ellie again, and his arms ached to hold her, even as he knew she must make her own choices. And so he waited.

  “We need all the family available, Pa,” she said finally. “I guess I’m willing to put the past where it belongs.”

  “I’ll settle for that,” George said, inhaling deeply, as if a load had been lifted from his soul.

  “Maybe you’d like to stay for supper?” Ellie asked. “James and Kate are coming over, too.”

  He shook his head. “Not this time, daughter. Ask me again, if you want to. I need to be heading home. We’ve got a whole herd of cows dropping calves right and left, and I need to be there.”

  “All right. I’ll ask you again,” Ellie said, looking to Win as if for reassurance that she’d done the right thing.

  He nodded his agreement, and she smiled, a tremulous movement of her lips that touched him to the depths. “You’re welcome here, Mr. Mitchum,” he said, adding his own words of acceptance.

  George cleared his throat. “Well, I’d better be on my way, I reckon. I’ll stop by again, Ellie.” His hands tightened a bit on the bundle he held, and then he looked up at his daughter. “Thank you.”

  Ellie took the baby and eased her upright, patting the small back and waiting as her father rose and headed for the back door. There were a few awkward moments as George pulled the door open and stepped onto the porch, then looked back at the couple who watched him. His nod was brief, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as he turned away, and Win stepped forward to close the door behind him.

  “What do you think?” he asked Ellie, careful to keep his voice neutral, not wanting to influence her mind.

  “I think my daughter has just met her grandpa,” she told him, a hint of happiness lighting her features. “I don’t have it in me to bear him a grudge, Win. I just can’t.”

  “I know,” he said, crossing to where she stood, baby held between them as he circled her with his arms and drew the two females he loved against himself. “I know, sweetheart. And I’m pleased for you.”

  “Spring is coming, Win,” she said after a moment. “The wildflowers are blooming at the back of the yard. I think this is going to be a good year, don’t you?”

  His nod was brief, and he bent his head to press kisses against her temple. “The best yet, honey. The very best.” As always, his body responded to her, to the scent and feel of the child-woman he’d taken to wife, and he groaned as he thought of the hours before he would take her to himself once more.

  “Win?” she asked, her eyes twinkling as she peered up at him. “Do you have a problem? Can I help?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing I can’t handle, love.” He glanced up as James knocked on the back door, Kate behind him, and his grin was wide as he bent to deposit a l
ong kiss on her mouth.

  “Just hold that thought till our dinner guests go home.”

  Special thanks and acknowledgment to Carolyn Davidson for her contribution to the Montana Mavericks series.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8543-3

  A CONVENIENT WIFE

  Copyright © 2001 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three