Taming Eliza Jane (Gardiner, Texas Book 1)

by Shannon Stacey

  “Hey, Doc,” he said when Will stepped in and closed the door behind him.

  A young, good-looking cowboy gazed mournfully at Will through the bars of his cell. “Howdy, Doc.”

  It took Will a moment to place him. The boy rode for one of the big neighboring spreads, and he’d treated him once for a busted leg he got breaking a particularly rowdy horse. Joey Keezer was his name.

  “It’s been a while since you found yourself in trouble, Joey. What did you do this time?”

  “I done got assaulted by Mrs. Barnes is what I done! She pulled my ladder right over and damn near broke my neck. Then she started beating me in the head with that Bible of hers. That’s a damn heavy Book.” He rubbed the back of his head to prove his point.

  “Well, if it wasn’t such a big Book, she wouldn’t have near as much to hold against people,” Will reasoned. “What were you doing up on a ladder here in town?”

  Adam chuckled and folded his arms over his chest, apparently content to let the prisoner do all the answering.

  “I was…aiming to visit Beth Ann.”

  “With a ladder?”

  Joey shrugged. “She was in her bedroom at the time, so it required a ladder.”

  Will shook his head. “Now, Joey, you know Mrs. Barnes has her sights set on Beth Ann marrying the sheriff here, so what possessed you to do a fool thing like that?”

  “I ain’t marrying nobody,” Adam felt a need to put in. Will didn’t have the heart to tell him that, according to the wagering, the majority of men in Gardiner thought differently.

  “You’re lucky Brent Barnes didn’t skin you alive,” Will said, debating on whether or not to help himself to Adam’s coffee. He decided against it, because he planned to fall into bed within the next hour or so.

  “He couldn’t get to me, on account of his wife’s arms flailing around, knocking me senseless with her Bible.”

  “What I want to know,” Adam said, “is if Beth Ann was expecting you.”

  Red embarrassment crept up from the cowboy’s neck to spread over his cheeks. “I ain’t saying nothing that would compromise Beth Ann’s reputation, Sheriff. Especially if Mrs. Barnes gets her way and you’re going to end up as her husband.”

  “I guess that answers that,” Will said. “I’d recommend you stick to the Chicken Coop for a while, Joey.”

  “I’m in love with her, Doc Martinson. I don’t reckon the chickens can help me with that, and it would only make things worse with Beth Ann.”

  “Can’t be any worse than sneaking into the girl’s bedroom, especially if you ain’t bright enough to wait until her parents have gone to bed.”

  “I was trying to convince her to run off with me, seeing as how her mama ain’t never going to let her marry somebody like me.”

  “Even if you do convince that crazy bat to let you marry Beth Ann,” Adam said, “you should still run off. Having that woman for a mother-in-law would be the death of any man.”

  Will winked at Joey. “That’s the God’s-honest truth. So are you in here for committing a crime or for your own protection?”

  “I don’t rightly know anything but that Mrs. Barnes wanted the sheriff to shoot me and he said he’d see to me.”

  “Little bit of both,” Adam said. “As long as he’s locked up here I know he ain’t getting in any more trouble and I don’t have Mrs. Barnes after me. I’ll send him back out to the ranch once the town’s asleep and that should be the end of it.”

  “For now,” Joey said, his face taking on a sullen cast. “Beth Ann and I aim to get married one way or another.”

  Adam shot the cowboy a stern look. “Unless either the one way or the other involves her parents’ blessing, you’d best be prepared for some serious consequences.”

  “She’s nineteen years old, Sheriff Caldwell. It ain’t right they won’t let her marry.”

  “Oh, they’ll let her marry,” Will said, “as long it’s Adam she’s marrying.”

  He laughed when the sheriff threw a crumpled up sheet of paper at him. “Don’t you have some boils that needed lancing, Doc?”

  “Nope, my doctorin’s done for the day. Ain’t got nothing better to do than keep you company.”

  He’d no sooner said the words than the door to the office opened and Dan O’Brien stepped in. “Sorry to intrude, Sheriff, but I been lookin’ all over for the doc. You’re needed at the hotel.”

  Will rubbed a hand over his face and nodded. That good night’s sleep would have to wait. “I’ll need to get my bag first. What’s the problem?”

  “I’m not sure, Doc. But Mrs. Carter asked me to fetch you to her.”

  He got right in the man’s face. “Did somebody lay a hand on her?”

  He knew there were some folks who didn’t like having her around, but if some dumb son of a bitch had hurt her, they’d find out in a hurry he was as handy with a gun as he was with a stethoscope.

  The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he shook his head. “I…I don’t think so. She just said she was feeling mighty poorly and asked me to send you to her room as soon as I could, unless you were with a patient.”

  Will brushed by him and practically ran down the sidewalk to get his medical bag. Eliza Jane hadn’t looked ill at all last time he’d seen her, and she didn’t seem the type to send for a doctor unnecessarily. So either something had come upon her in a hurry, or somebody’d decided to teach the women’s libber a lesson.

  If that was the case, there would be hell to pay.

  7

  Eliza Jane sat on the edge of her bed, waiting anxiously for the doctor to arrive. She was as nervous about the false pretenses as she was about the reason for them, and she only hoped Will wouldn’t be too upset with her.

  When the knock sounded on her door, she jumped to her feet. “Who is it?”

  “Mrs. Carter, it’s Doctor Martinson. Mr. O’Brien said you were feeling poorly.”

  He sounded so…formal. Was somebody listening? Or was he annoyed at being called to her room at such a late hour? “Come in.”

  Will opened the door and stepped in, blinking in the dim light before closing the door behind him. His eyes widened when he saw her, standing there in nothing but her silk wrapper and scandalously bare feet. She was freshly bathed, and she’d brushed her hair until it shone like onyx before sending the note down with the part-time kitchen girl who’d been passing by her room.

  “You look mighty healthy for a sick woman,” he said after a moment.

  “I…I’m not really sick.” She felt the flush across her chest and up onto her neck at her admission. “In order to send for you, I either needed a doctor or a lawman, and if I’d only asked for a lawman, I might have ended up with Sheriff Caldwell, and…well, that wouldn’t have done at all.”

  She took heart when Will bolted the door. Surely he wasn’t in the habit of locking himself in the room with his patients. “So if you’re not sick and you haven’t committed a crime, what is it I can do for you, Eliza Jane?”

  She felt incredibly vulnerable and foolish, but she’d come too far to turn back now. Even if she tried to send him away, Will wasn’t going to leave without an explanation. “I’ve been having a rough time of things lately, as you know, and I’ve decided to reach and grab some happiness for myself. I want to…I want you to…”

  She looked at him beseechingly, but he crossed his arms and shook his head. “Oh, I’m going to make you say it, darlin’.”

  Eliza Jane sucked in a deep breath, then just blurted it out. “I want you to make love to me.”

  His cocky smile faded, but the desire in his eyes was hot enough to curl her hair. “Darlin’, I ain’t in the habit of taking advantage of a woman who’s feeling low.”

  He didn’t know her very well if he thought she was going to be deterred that easily. “You listen to me, Will Martinson. I was a good and dutiful wife and that got me nothing. I’ve been a staunch advocate for women and I have nothing again. Now it’s time to be an advocate for myself. It’s time for me to d
o something just for myself.”

  Eliza Jane didn’t look away while Will seemed to search her face for something—maybe a sign she wasn’t just looking for easy comfort she’d regret in the morning.

  “I’m sure,” she said, hoping to help him along since it was rather awkward standing there, offering herself to him. “I want this itch scratched and only you can do it.”

  He didn’t laugh as she’d expected, or even crack a smile. “How sure are you, darlin’? Because once I start touching you, I ain’t gonna want to stop. I will if you ask me, but then I’d have to turn you over to Adam for minding.”

  “I don’t need minding,” she felt compelled to protest. “And I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

  She held her breath, wondering how she'd endure the humiliation should Will reject her. She had been so sure he desired her physically, but now that she was practically throwing herself at him, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd misjudged.

  "Do...do you want me?"

  The smoldering look in his eyes gave depth to the easy grin. "Darlin', I want you so much I'm likely to look like a fool if I don't take a moment to compose myself."

  Maybe it was silly to get such a thrill from her affect on him, but she couldn't help herself. And his candidness made her feel bold. "I've been waiting a long while for you to scratch this itch, Will Martinson."

  Without taking his eyes from her, Will took off his hat and tossed it onto the armchair. Her hands went to the sash of her robe, but he shook his head while taking tauntingly slow steps toward her.

  “I’m going to unwrap you myself, darlin’.” He said, as if she were a gift to be savored.

  Just the way Will looked at her took Eliza Jane’s breath away. She was trembling, and she wondered at her sense of anticipation. She wasn’t a virgin, after all. She had some idea of what to expect.

  Any second Will would lower her to the mattress, part her robe and take his pleasure. Then he would either roll over and go to sleep or return to his own bed, leaving her with a tiny ache at the small of her back and the certainty there should have been more.

  … your husband wasn’t doing it right.

  He tugged at the sash, pulling her close to him. “So if this itch of yours is that bad, I reckon I’d better give you a thorough examination. Where do you think I should start?”

  She had to swallow hard before she could answer. Being wanton wasn’t a usual part of her nature, or so she’d thought. “I don’t know, Doctor. I itch all over.”

  “I’ll start at the top, then.”

  And he did. Will let go of her sash and threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her into his kiss. When his lips touched hers, Eliza Jane couldn’t hold back the sigh. The last of her anxiety over her scandalous behavior faded away and she melted into his embrace.

  He kissed her thoroughly, his tongue dancing over hers, until her toes were curled against the hardwood floor and his shirt was bunched in her fists.

  When Will’s mouth left hers and began blazing a hot, moist trail down her neck, Eliza Jane could barely breathe, never mind speak. His hands ran over her shoulders, and he cupped their roundness, squeezing gently. When his thumbs skimmed over her collarbones, he lips pressed to the hollow between them, she threw back her head, baring her throat to his kiss.

  “You smell mighty pretty, Eliza Jane,” he said against her skin. Then he licked that small hollow. “You taste good, too.”

  Being brazen was going well for her so far, so she ran her hands over his chest to his top button and started working her way down.

  Engrossed as she was in liberating him from his shirt, the warm whisper of air over her own naked skin came as a surprise. She hadn’t even been aware of Will pulling free the loose knot of her sash until he slid the robe from her shoulders.

  Shyness overcame her as she stood nude before him, despite the low appreciative growl that came deep from his throat. The urge to cross her arms over her breasts—to somehow cover herself—was strong, until Will bent and drew one erect nipple into the moist heat of his mouth. He ran his tongue over the sensitive bud, and that was the last she thought of being shy.

  Somehow Will managed to caress and kiss what seemed like every part of her body while divesting himself of his clothing.

  He ran his hands down her back from her neck to her hips, molding her body to his. Because Eliza Jane was taller than average, she was a perfect fit, and at that moment she would have been content to stand there forever, soaking in his warmth.

  Until Will reached down, gripped her buttocks and lifted her as he bent his knees, drawing the long, hard length of him against the juncture of her thighs. Eliza Jane gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders in case her trembling knees gave out.

  “You know, darlin’,” he said in a low voice as he backed her toward the bed, “if you take to screaming too loud, people will wonder exactly what kind of medical treatment it is I’m giving you.”

  “I’ll try to remember to scream into the pillow,” she promised.

  When she found herself on her back on the bed with Will standing over her, Eliza Jane let her gaze roam boldly over his body. He was all hard planes and lean muscle, with a sprinkling of hair across his chest that tapered down toward...

  Oh my. No wonder he had a little swagger in his walk, if his stride had to accommodate that. And though---as she'd told him---she wasn't ignorant of the act, she had some doubts about her body's ability to welcome a manhood of such impressive stature.

  Will put a knee on either side of hers, then took her hands and stretched her arms up over her head as he lowered his body. She arched her back to meet him halfway.

  He grinned. "Are you a wanton woman, Eliza Jane?"

  She froze, unsure of what he wanted the answer to be. His expression implied he was enjoying her brazen behavior, but you never could tell with a man.

  "I think you are," he continued in a low, husky voice that made her shiver. He pressed his erection against her lower abdomen and circled his hips, grinding himself against her until she whimpered, wanting more. "And I think you're going to ruin me for any other woman."

  Because she didn't want to consider Will doing this with any other woman, she nodded. He laughed, then bent his head to nip at her ear.

  Will managed to work his mouth down to her breasts while still making those lazy circles of his hips against hers. She wrapped her legs around his waist trying to urge him downward, but he didn't budge. She tried to pull her hands free so she could help things along, but he wouldn't release her.

  "Tell me what you want, darlin'."

  Eliza Jane felt the heat of a blush spread across her chest and face. Surely he didn't expect her to speak a thought like that out loud.

  But apparently he did. "I've not known you to have a problem speaking your mind yet, Eliza Jane, so don't be shy with me now."

  She looked into his clear blue eyes and took a deep breath. "I want to feel you inside of me."

  He kissed her, devouring her mouth as he reached down between their bodies and guided himself into her.

  Eliza Jane sighed against his lips as he filled her slowly---gently easing forward, pulling back, then easing a little more until her body had taken all of him. She gripped the brass rails of the headboard, instinctively raising her hips to meet each thrust.

  He looked down at her, watching her face intently. She gave him a naughty grin of her own. "I think I am a wanton woman, after all. I do believe you're a bad influence on me, Doctor Martinson."

  "Darlin', I aim to influence you 'til you beg for mercy."

  There was a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, and she noticed the trembling in his shoulders as he held his weight off of her. His thrusts were quickening, deepening, and her body was urging him on, aching for...something.

  "I never beg," Eliza Jane said breathlessly.

  She gasped when Will drove into her, a small cry escaping her lips. He curled his hands over hers as she held the headboard and used his arms to pu
ll his body forward, burying himself in her over and over until she was sobbing his name.

  Their breaths came fast and shallow, and she moaned, locking her ankles together over his hips.

  "Tell me how it feels, darlin’," he demanded in a harsh whisper.

  She couldn't even think, never mind finding the words to describe how she felt. Never in her life had she experienced the sensations taking over her body. ''It feels so...right."

  Will released her hands so he could slide them under her, cupping her head and lifting her face to his. Their panting breaths mingled as he drove deep within her. Then she succumbed to a pleasure she'd never felt before while Will muffled her screams with his kiss. Then, as her body trembled, she heard him moan her name and felt his hot seed fill her.

  He pressed short, sweet kisses to her hairline, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, while tremors shook his body.

  Eliza Jane pried her fingers from the brass rails and ran her hands down Will's sweat-slickened back. "Oh...my."

  He chuckled and rested his head on her chest. "I agree."

  Now she knew why the occasional woman would outright laugh when Eliza Jane suggeted forgoing intimacy for part of each month. What woman in her right mind would pass up a chance to feel like this?

  And Will was right. Augustus hadn’t been doing it right at all.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Will mumbled against her breast. “When you go too long without talking, I start getting nervous.”

  She lazily stroked his hair, liking the way it made him shiver. “I’m simply enjoying the moment.”

  “Simply enjoy it for a few more moments, darlin’, and then we’re going to do it all over again. I ain’t nearly had my fill of you yet.”

  “Oh my.”

  Will yawned—again—and hoped he wouldn’t fall asleep face-down in his eggs. Adam would never let him live that down. As it was, he was glad they were regular customers because he was too damn tired to even read a menu.

  Not that he was complaining any. He’d just passed the best and most pleasurable night of his life exploring Eliza Jane and if waking up with yolk on his nose and bacon grease in his hair was the price he paid, it was well worth the cost.