A Cowboy Worth Claiming

by Charlene Sands

  “Goodness, Lizzie,” she said, taking a final look at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She barely recognized herself.

  She heard rustling outside, so she left her room to peer out the parlor window. Hayden’s two-seater buggy was hitched to the post in front of the house. It was just like Hayden to be early. He’d been so eager about this dance; he’d gone on and on about it when she was with him.

  She took a deep breath and made a vow to have fun today. She hadn’t danced in years, but Hayden knew how and he’d promised to teach her.

  She opened the door and found Hayden there, smiling, holding a batch of soft pink lilies in one hand. His gaze flowed over her with admiration. “You’re…you’re.” He took a swallow and began again. “Lizzie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so beautiful.”

  Lizzie flashed a true and genuine smile, happy to receive a compliment. “I’m glad you like the dress. I’ve been working on it after supper all week long.”

  “I do,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “But it’s not the dress, Lizzie. It’s the woman wearing it.”

  “Thank you, Hayden. I don’t know what I’d do without your kind words.” He was truly a blessing in her life.

  “You’ll never have a need to find out.” Then he remembered the flowers. “These are for you. For the drive over to the Donavans’.”

  He handed her the flowers and she put them to her nose. A slightly sweet scent wafted up her nostrils. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Hayden. And I must say, you look very handsome today.”

  He wore a tan vest underneath a dark suit that fit his frame perfectly. He looked worldly, dressed much like Governor Tritle, who’d once visited Red Ridge on his way to an inaugural ceremony in Phoenix. Sometimes when Lizzie looked at Hayden now, she had to remind herself of the boy he’d once been, who’d tug at her braids and cackle with laughter, then run away so she would chase him.

  “Are you ready to go?” There was boyish eagerness in his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  With a sweep of his hand, he gestured for her to walk out first, then he reached back to close the door. They’d made it to the buggy when Lizzie remembered something. “Hayden, I almost forgot. There’s one hook at the back I couldn’t reach. I swear I was a fool to sew it in.” She tilted her head to the side, giving him access to her exposed shoulders. “Could you? It’s the top one.”

  He blinked his eyes and hesitated. Lizzie wondered if she’d embarrassed him by asking the favor. “If you don’t want to, maybe I can ask—”

  “No, Lizzie,” he said, his voice a bit shaky. “I’d be happy to.”

  He walked behind her and fumbled a bit with the material.

  Chance turned the corner of the barn then, coming forward with a stack of fresh-cut wood in his arms. Immediately, he took note of the buggy. And when he spotted her with Hayden standing close behind, fiddling with her dress, he stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth dropped open.

  His gaze traveled over the full length of her, from her upswept hair to the very hem of her fancy gown, but he did a double take at the heart-shaped bodice. Her chest swelled from the unabashed blaze in his eyes.

  Hot tremors ricocheted through her body. Her breath caught, causing a little gasp to escape.

  “Sorry, Lizzie. My hands are clumsy,” Hayden said, mistaking the sound she made as impatience.

  “It’s okay,” she said quietly, watching Chance.

  With a flick of his eyes, Chance turned his attention to Hayden. The look he shot him was so fierce, so hard, that Lizzie shivered noticeably, yet Hayden was unaware of his presence.

  “There, finally got it,” he said triumphantly, giving her shoulders a little pat.

  By the time Hayden lifted his head, Chance had already turned away, dumping the logs into the wood pile and striding off.

  Lizzie was completely shaken. Chance had wanted this. He’d been hard-nosed and stubborn, hurting her pride for the very last time. He’d told her to ask Hayden to the dance. But judging from the look on Chance’s face and the glint of steel in his eyes, he seemed to want anything but. Lizzie had never been the object of a man’s jealousy before. But Chance had no one to blame but himself. He’d been pushing her away, denying her any credence, since the day they’d met.

  “Are you ready?” Hayden asked, coming to stand in front of her.

  She nodded. “Yes, I’m ready. I can’t wait to dance until my feet ache.”

  He grinned wide and helped her up onto the buggy. “I think I can surely oblige.”

  Lizzie tamped down her ill ease and smiled at her best friend. If anyone could make her forget her heartache, it was Hayden Finch.

  * * *

  Chance chopped wood.

  He chopped wood until his arms ached, his shoulders went stiff and his mouth became parched. Then he chopped wood some more. A tick worked at his jaw with each blow of the ax, with each damn splintering of lumber.

  No matter the strain to his muscles or the pain to his back, the vision of Lizzie looking beautiful in that silky gown refused to be forced away. The notion that he couldn’t dismiss her any longer plagued him until he thought he’d go crazy.

  After an hour, he ceased his chopping and leaned heavily on the ax handle. He’d been thunderstruck seeing Hayden’s hands on Lizzie today, seeing the way he touched her as he fixed her dress.

  His mouth twisted in disgust.

  He’d never been jealous of a man in his life.

  Chance put down the ax and sat on a haystack. He reached for the bottle of whiskey he’d brought from the bunkhouse, stretched his legs and leaned back so that his head rested against the barn wall. It wasn’t too dang comfortable, but in a few minutes, he wouldn’t know the difference.

  He wasn’t going to chop any more firewood or mend another broken-down fence. He wasn’t going to muck the horse stalls or pitch another bale of hay. Nope, his workday was officially over. He raised the liquor to his lips and drank, pouring whiskey down his gullet in a big gulp.

  I wonder if a man would ever drink, because of me.

  A wry chuckle escaped his throat.

  He’d told Lizzie one day she’d make some man crazy enough. It must have been a premonition, because he was going a little loco right now.

  The sun dipped toward the western horizon. Lizzie had been gone for hours now, probably turning young male heads and making poor old Hayden Finch sweat.

  “Ah, hell.” Much as he tried, he couldn’t stop imagining Lizzie dancing in Hayden’s arms, laughing, her blue eyes sparkling like two bright gems.

  Feeling prickly, Chance rose abruptly. The alcohol hadn’t numbed him sufficiently. He was too restless to wallow in pity anyway. What he needed was a long hard ride. He grabbed his gun belt and fastened it as he strode over to the barn to retrieve his saddle. The barn was dry from the day’s heat and the scent of animal droppings, straw and packed earth rose up to greet him. They were familiar smells that on any other day would bring him comfort. Today, nothing much was helping.

  At the corral, he set his saddle down and with a sharp eye spotted Joyful at the farthest fence. He gave her a whistle. The mare trotted over. He had his hand on the gate, when he heard footsteps approaching. The sound of hysterical crying reached his ears at the same time he swiveled around to find Lizzie racing toward the house. He had to blink his eyes twice, making sure he wasn’t seeing things. Her dress was torn at the shoulders, her upswept hair was in a shambles and her dirt-smeared face looked as if she’d been through a dust storm.

  “Lizzie!” he called out.

  Without giving him a glance, she climbed the porch steps and pushed through the door. “Leave me alone, Chance Worth!” The door slammed shut behind her.

  “What the hell.” Chance ate the distance to the house in long strides then
yanked the door open and entered the house.

  Lizzie whirled around, her eyes red and swollen. She’d been crying a long time.

  His pulse pounded in his throat seeing the look of misery on her face. “Go away, Chance.”

  “Not until you tell me what happened.”

  “This is all your fault!”

  “My fault? What are you talking about?” He approached her slowly. She wasn’t making any sense. “Why are you crying?”

  Tears continued to spill down her face. “It’s…Hayden.”

  Hayden? He rocked back on his heels. Chance took another look at her dress, almost in tatters now and falling off her shoulders. Dirt smudged her face. “Hayden did this to you?” Chance put a hand on his gun. He’d only known this kind of fury when that bastard Quinn Martin had taken Lizzie into the brush. If that mama’s boy Hayden Finch dared to hurt Lizzie, he’d make sure he’d never come near her again. Chance took her arms, holding her firmly, and searched her eyes for the truth. Protective instincts poked at his nerves. “What did he do?”

  Lizzie’s face wrinkled tight. “He…he…”

  Chance had murder on his mind, as he coaxed the truth from her. “Go on, darlin’.”

  “He…” She bit down on her lower lip. The tender skin there puckered. More tears fell.

  She was torturing him. “Lizzie, tell me.”

  She glared at him, her face once again filled with accusation aimed at him. “He…kissed me.”

  Chance blinked and let that sink into his skull for a minute. Newfound jealousy burned in his gut. For her sake, he kept his voice steady. “Is that all he did?”

  “No, t-that’s not all!” Her bluster overtook her misery. “Look at me.” She stepped back for him to see her, gesturing with a sweep of her hands over her dress. “I’m a mess! And I feel like a fool.”

  He had a fierce need to protect her. “If he abused you he’ll answer to me. Where is he?”

  “No! It’s not Hayden’s fault.”

  “Lizzie, you’re not making a lick of sense.” Chance’s patience was at its limit. He’d been in a sour mood before she came home, but seeing Lizzie so distraught now made him want to pound his fist into a wall—or into Hayden’s face.

  “This is all your fault, Chance. Don’t go blaming Hayden.” Blue fury sparked in her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. “Hayden k-kissed me and I was so…surprised. Lately, he’d started looking at me as a woman and it…it confused me. But I never once thought he was coming home for me. He loves me, Chance. He wants to marry me!”

  She squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head fiercely as if reliving something awful. “I hurt him. I hurt him so bad. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when I pushed him away. When I told him it felt strange kissing him. When I told him… I couldn’t marry him.”

  “So he attacked you?”

  “No! He didn’t touch me after that. He… His face sort of crumpled. He was so very hurt, pleading with me to change my mind. But I couldn’t, Chance, and I told him so. That’s when he… He told me we couldn’t be friends anymore. That he loved me too much to be my friend. I ran all the way home from the Donavans. I fell a few times, ripping my dress, but I kept going fast as I could trying to erase the wounded look in his eyes from my mind. It was like…like I’d betrayed him.”

  “You didn’t betray him,” Chance said, greatly relieved he didn’t have to knock the stuffing out of Hayden.

  Again she lifted swollen tear-weary eyes to him. “His touch never put flutters in my belly or made my heart pound so hard it felt like it’s gonna burst clear through my chest.” She shook her head, her admission guileless. “It isn’t like when you touch me, Chance. Not like when you kiss me. Nothing’s ever felt so good in my life and…and—”

  “Lizzie.” Her name escaped his throat.

  “I know you’re gonna tell me to—”

  Quick as the snap of a whip, Chance curved his hands around her slight waist and drew her up against him. “I’m gonna tell you to be quiet, so I can kiss you.”

  He claimed her mouth in one quick swoop. He didn’t give her time to protest. He didn’t give her room to pull away. He held her tight and went on kissing her, letting the warmth of her giving lips tear down every barrier he’d built in his mind. Letting her sweetness seep into his soul and touch every place he’d sheltered for so long. He wasn’t going to deny he wanted her with a need so fierce, he was ready to murder anyone who’d try to stop him.

  “Oh, Chance,” she whispered into his mouth. “I couldn’t take it if you pushed me away.”

  “Not today, Lizzie,” he said, stroking her unruly long hair away from her face and looking deep into the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. “Not ever again. Today, I’m gonna make you mine.”

  He lifted her in his arms and looked her straight in the eyes. “This is what you want?”

  She nodded, without a bit of hesitation.

  He nuzzled her throat and kissed her again.

  Then he carried her into the bedroom.

  * * *

  Chance set Lizzie down on her bed gently. Her pulse pounding, she watched Chance move to the curtains and close them, denying afternoon sunlight entry into the room. Everything dimmed. She kept her gaze trained on him as he strode to the washbowl on her dressing table. He dipped a cloth into the rose-scented water and came over to the bed. Lowering onto his knee next to her, he washed her face with the cloth.

  “I look a mess,” she murmured.

  He shook his head. “You have a scratch on your face. A few on your shoulders,” he said tenderly, dabbing them. Cool moisture met her bared shoulders and after he’d wash an area, he’d bend to brush his lips to her skin. Goose bumps prickled all over.

  She was impatient for him to lie next to her. She’d missed breathing in his scent and rolling over to see him sleeping beside her. One night, he’d covered her body with his, to protect her from the freezing storm, but now it was different. Now, she saw the undeniable intent in his eyes as he kissed her tenderly, making her squirm on the bed and wish for more. “Slow and easy, princess,” Chance murmured.

  Finished with his ministrations, he set the cloth aside and unbuckled his gun belt. She watched him in the dim light as he lowered down onto the bed. She welcomed the dip of the mattress with a silent sigh.

  They faced each other on the bed and she peered into Chance’s handsome face. He was so familiar to her now. She knew every fleck of color in his brown eyes. She knew every sharp angle of his profile. She knew the powerful breadth of his shoulders. She loved every measure of him, every little part that made him who he was and the newness of her love made her giddy inside.

  She could hardly believe that just a few hours ago, she thought her life was ruined. Losing Hayden as her best friend and knowing Chance didn’t want her had been crushing blows, even for her strong, stubborn nature.

  But now, her immediate future was hopeful. Lizzie would not make any further assumptions. She would simply treasure each moment she had with Chance.

  His fingertip trailed a path along her cheek with the slightest of touches. A tremble coursed the length of her. His gaze was warm, shed of any defenses, shed of the guard that had hardened there since she’d met him.

  “I won’t hurt you, Lizzie. Trust in that.”

  She touched his cheek, her fingertips absorbing the heat of his skin. “I do.”

  His lips met hers again briefly and then his hands went to her back. “I want you out of this dress, pretty as it is.”

  With expert fingers, he unfastened the hook and buttons. The back of her dress fell open and Chance put his hands on her shoulders, carefully moving the dress down inch by inch.

  His eyes stayed on his task as he tugged the material lower and lower.

  “Lif
t up a little,” he said, kissing her shoulder.

  She arched and Chance guided the dress past her waist over her hips and down her legs.

  He flung the dress to the floor and returned his attention to her.

  She took a big swallow.

  Her chemise and a thin cotton skirt covered her.

  “If I do anything you don’t like, you just tell me,” he said.

  “There’s nothing you could do that I won’t like,” she said, breathless. Her body was a mass of trembles.

  Chance smiled with warmth in his eyes. “Lizzie, you don’t know what your words do to me.”

  He rose from the bed, his gaze staying with her as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it over his head. Her eyes dipped to the expanse of his powerful chest, bronzed from working in the sun. She drew in a sharp breath. She’d seen him this way, many times, only now, she would have the freedom to touch and explore, to sink her fingertips into his skin and relish each caress.

  He came back to the bed and gave her a greedy kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. Her fingers wove through the thick strands of his hair.

  “So sweet,” he said, between kisses.

  “I’m not sweet,” she said, laboring for breath.

  “Don’t argue,” he whispered, his lips lifting in a quick smile as his tongue found hers with a deep stroke.

  A soft moan spiraled up her throat. She ached now throughout her body, but the tip of her thighs fairly throbbed.

  Chance seemed to know her needs, because he broke the kiss to remove the rest of her clothes. He was quick handed and before she knew it, she lay naked on the bed beside him. Every instinct she had told her to cover up. To hide her body from his eyes. She was sure he would find her lacking in many ways. But when she dared to peek at his face, his eyes held nothing but appreciation.

  “You are beautiful,” he said quietly, reverently, and this time, his tongue found the very peak of her nipple. He licked her there and then circled the tip round and round, until finally, to her shock, he took the upturned tip into his mouth.