One Texas Night

by Jodi Thomas

  Finally, she patted his leg. “Thank you. I needed to remember. No one mourned my father’s passing but I remember how it was when she died. I think I cried today because I’m alone, not because I’ll miss my father.”

  “You’re welcome.” He covered his hand over hers for a moment. “And you are not alone. I’m right here beside you.”

  Standing, he pulled her gently up and kissed her cheek. “It’s time we called it a night. Do you think you can undress yourself tonight? I’ve work still to do on the books.” He didn’t add that he wanted to hide the records while Raymond was still in the house. If the books were lost, it would only be his word against Raymond’s.

  She looked up at him. “Of course. You’re right. It is late. Will you be sleeping in my bed?” It was such an innocent question, but there could be only honesty in the answer.

  “Do you mind? I enjoy holding you while you sleep. I know you’re safe.”

  “I don’t mind,” she whispered. “Just don’t wake me when you finally come to bed.”

  He knew they were both adults, but there was something almost childlike in the way they trusted without reason. He wasn’t sure what she thought. Maybe she believed nothing would happen. Maybe she was simply living up to the bargain he’d requested.

  But there was nothing childlike in the way he felt about her. Each brush of her arm or taste of her lips only left him wanting more. Two days ago he thought he’d be happy just to be able to be near her, but now he wanted more, much more.

  In the eyes of God and by law they were man and wife, but in her eyes, he was no more than an outlaw she’d made a bargain with to hold on to her ranch. He had a feeling she would have found another way if he hadn’t been near.

  If he took advantage of her, he’d never forgive himself, but if he walked away without loving her, he’d regret it until he died.

  He walked her to the stairs. After she took the first step she turned and said good night.

  He didn’t turn her hand loose. “Kiss me good night,” he whispered with more need than demand.

  Slowly, she leaned forward. “Yes, dear,” she answered as she pressed her lips to his.

  He closed the distance between them as if he were starving for what she offered.

  When she finally ended the kiss, she was breathless.

  “That was . . .” She couldn’t find the words.

  “Perfection,” he helped. “Good night, dear. When I come to bed I’ll not wake you, but I make no promises not to touch you.”

  Her eyebrows lifted and she whispered, “Oh.”

  He smiled. “Would you like another kiss, my wife, or can you wait until I’m beside you?”

  “No.” She stumbled up the next step. “Though I’ve no complaints about the one.”

  He fought the urge to follow her up the steps. “You might think of wearing a gown tonight. I’m sure you’re tired of my wrinkling your clothes. I’ll kiss you again when I come to bed.”

  “I’ll be asleep,” she said, her eyes wide awake.

  He grinned. “I won’t mind.”

  She turned before he could say more and disappeared up the stairs.

  It took every ounce of his willpower to make himself walk to the office. His time was limited but he wanted to give Cozette something and the proof of her uncle’s embezzlement might keep her and her child safe. She might like flirting with him but that didn’t mean she wanted to give him half the ranch. He’d learned a long time ago to expect nothing.

  Michael worked late into the night, forcing all his energy into his work so he wouldn’t think of the woman upstairs waiting for him to share her bed, but not her life.

  Finally, when the numbers started to blur on the page, he hid the books beneath the sickbed, blew out the lamp, and climbed the stairs. He walked through his room, removed his shirt and old boots, and tossed them on the floor. A new pair of boots stood at the end of his bed along with a clean set of clothes he knew would fit him perfectly. She might not want him around long, but while he was there she treated him with more kindness than anyone ever had. He would miss the coffee served to him every morning and the cobbler every night.

  When he lowered onto her bed, she was asleep, as she’d promised she would be. For a while, he just watched her, wondering what life would be like if she really belonged to him.

  His hand moved beneath the covers. Only one layer of soft cotton separated his touch from her body. He moved near her soft breath and touched her lips with his as his hand began to explore.

  The feel of her washed away all the exhaustion. He traced the outline of her breasts and slid his hand over her slightly rounded tummy, wishing it were his child growing inside her. When he moved her head onto his shoulder she made a little sound in her sleep, but she came to him willingly.

  He began at her ear with his light kisses. When he reached her mouth, slightly open and waiting, he couldn’t resist.

  He felt her come awake slowly, one sense at a time. She shyly kissed him back. He ran his hands into her loose hair and pulled her head off the pillow as he rolled and brought her on top of him.

  In the shadows he watched her look down at him with sleepy eyes. “Kiss me again,” he whispered.

  She smiled and did as he requested.

  Before her lips pulled away, he whispered, “Again.”

  She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  The kiss exploded with passion. She was fully awake now and wanting his nearness as much as he wanted her.

  When they finally had to stop to breathe, he rolled her on her back. “Now again, if you don’t mind.”

  “You don’t have to keep asking. I’ve no plan to stop until you beg me to.”

  “I’ll take that challenge.”

  This time, as their lips touched, he cupped her breast and brushed his thumb across the peak. She reacted as he hoped she would, by pulling him close.

  “I want you so much,” he whispered between hurried kisses.

  He told himself they were married. He had every right, but he knew he’d make love to her only when she said she wanted him. He knew if he ever took her as his real wife, he’d never leave. Not her, or the ranch, or the child she carried. There were some things a part-time husband could never do as part of a bargain.

  He broke the kiss and looked down at her. In the pale light of the fire her lips were swollen, her hair was spilled across the pillows, and her eyes shone bright with unshed tears.

  He rolled away, onto his back. Her silence had told him all he needed to know. He might want her, but she didn’t want him . . . not in the way he needed her. If she had she would have said something.

  Mrs. Peters’s words came back to him. You’ll never be loved, but maybe you’ll make yourself useful. That was all he was to her. Useful.

  He’d fallen for a woman who didn’t or wouldn’t love him. He’d fallen into hell.

  Chapter 9

  Cozette pretended to sleep the rest of the night. Until he’d told her he wanted her she’d thought they were simply playing a game. He was touching her, she was enjoying it. When he’d said he wanted her, she knew he was no longer playing. He hadn’t said he loved her or wanted to stay forever. He simply wanted her, and she’d already had one man in her life who’d simply wanted her.

  She felt him slip from her bed long before dawn. He hadn’t touched her since he’d rolled away from her, so she had no warmth to miss.

  Maybe she should have said she wanted him, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever want a man in that way again. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience. In fact, the mating had hurt when she’d been forced down without warning.

  Michael might be gentle and kind, but she wasn’t sure the act wouldn’t still hurt.

  She had loved his kisses, though, and the way his hands touched her as if they were worshipping her. She’d even thought of asking him to touch her again, but she didn’t know how. That kind of honesty had never circled so near before.

  She slipped from the bed and crosse
d the bathing room to his bedroom. He’d pulled on clean trousers and was sitting by the open windows tugging on his old boots. The cold air blew her gown as if pushing her back, but she tiptoed toward him.

  He didn’t look up but she had a feeling he knew she was there.

  “Your new boots should fit far better,” she said calmly.

  When he didn’t look up, she took one step more. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No,” he answered too quickly.

  “Good,” she played along as she moved closer. “Then, you’d have no objection to a good-morning kiss.”

  “It’s a long time until morning,” he mumbled before looking up at her, and a moment later she was running into his arms. He was her only friend. The only one she could trust. She couldn’t stand to see hurt in his wonderful blue eyes and know that she’d caused it.

  “You promised you’d never be cruel to me,” she whispered. “Don’t turn away from me now.”

  He buried his head in her chest and let out a long sigh, then kissed her wildly as if a hunger for her had almost killed him.

  She laughed as he stood, holding her in his arms, and walked over to his bed. He tossed her atop the covers and stared down at her for a long moment before joining her. “It’s cold in here. You should be under the covers, dear.”

  As the first light shone through the open windows, he tugged the front of her gown open. “If you just want to be touched and nothing more, then touch you I will.”

  His fingers shoved the cotton aside a moment before his warm hands covered her breasts. “But I plan to do so all over.”

  When she gasped, he kissed her deep as his hands made his promise true.

  After awhile, he rose his head to look into her eyes. The pain she’d seen was gone, and passion had taken its place. She whispered between gulps for air. “Again, Michael. Touch me again.”

  He pushed the gown off and lowered his mouth to her peak.

  Crying out from the pleasure, she rocked back and forth. He moved back to her mouth, holding her face in his hands as he kissed her.

  “Is this what you want, my love?” His words whispered against her mouth.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  Slowly, he gentled as he removed her gown and lightly brushed over her body with his fingertips. When she shivered, he rolled her onto her stomach and stroked her back, dipping lower until his hand covered her bottom.

  He didn’t say anything as he explored her body with bold strokes that warmed her skin.

  Part of her couldn’t believe she was letting him. Knowing he wanted her wasn’t the same as loving her, but it was close. Reason told her she never wanted another man, but emotions warring in her wouldn’t allow her to stop him. Just seeing the pleasure in his face made her happy. He was a good man who’d had very little pleasure in his life, and it pleased her greatly to know that she could offer him something in return for all he’d given her.

  She finally curled next to him and he pulled a blanket over them both. They fell asleep with her head on his shoulder and his hand spread across her stomach.

  When the household began to wake, Cozette stirred, loving the warmth of him near.

  He opened one eye and looked at her.

  “Can I have my good-morning kiss, please?” she pouted.

  “Of course,” he said, “but only one.”

  He kissed her soundly and pulled away. “Tonight I think maybe you should forget the gown. It will only get ripped. I plan to repeat our early morning activity.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she smiled.

  “Don’t worry. If you forget, we might have to do it twice.”

  She blushed. “Oh, I see. I should probably warn you my memory’s never been good.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m here to help.”

  They both laughed, but she didn’t miss the warm fire in his stormy blue-gray eyes.

  She tugged the covers around her as she watched him dress. She wanted to ask him if he’d be happy just touching her and nothing more, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. When he left she’d keep the memories of their nights together close to her heart. She might not have a real husband, but she’d know that once, for a few short nights, she’d been touched completely and lovingly.

  After he strapped on his gun belt and lifted his hat, he crossed to the bed and kissed her on the head. “All day, I’ll think of you here like this and long for the night.”

  He was gone before she could answer. Without giving any thought of what was proper, she curled back under the covers and went to sleep in his bed.

  Her day could wait a little longer to begin.

  Chapter 10

  By the time Michael reached the barn, he’d calmed some. Another night of touching his wife without making love to her would surely kill him, but he’d gladly die. He’d known she wasn’t sleeping after he’d pulled away in the night. He’d lain awake angry at how she’d reacted when he’d told her he wanted her. Surely she wasn’t so young to believe that all they were playing was a game.

  When he’d left her bed and gone back into his room, he’d still been angry and hurt. She was spoiled and he appeared to be no more than a puppet husband. She’d hardly noticed how he’d been organizing the ranch and getting it running back on track.

  Then, she’d come to his room, tiptoeing like a child and looking every ounce a woman in her thin gown that hid little from view. For a moment he’d thought of telling her how impossible her request was. To touch her and not love her was ridiculous. But then, she’d ran to his arms and he’d known he’d have to try.

  He knew he hadn’t been as gentle as he should have been when he’d tossed her onto his bed, but she hadn’t complained, hadn’t protested or pulled away. And, once he’d gentled his touch, she’d let him handle her body, exploring, caressing, tasting wherever he liked. She’d given herself to him in every way but one. The one way only a woman can give herself completely.

  He knew without thought that no other woman would ever satisfy him. If he didn’t have her, he’d be unfulfilled for the rest of his life.

  He walked to the corral, tossed a lead rope around his horse, and entered through the back of the barn, his mind still filled with thoughts of Cozette.

  Two hands were at the front of the barn looking out toward the house as he neared. Neither noticed him.

  The tallest one complained, “Raymond promised us all a bonus after he got rid of the brat of a girl. But she married, so who knows how long a bonus will be coming, if ever.”

  The other added, “We won’t have to wait more than a few days, I’m guessing. I heard one of the men say Raymond plans to get rid of them both.”

  “Run them off or kill them?” the tall man questioned.

  “Probably make it look like an accident, or better yet make it look like those three bumbling uncles of his killed them. The sheriff will take one look at those three and start looping a rope.”

  “Well, I’m not waiting around to be thought of as part of a killing. I hear there’s work up north. I think I’ll head out before something happens.”

  “You’d better stop complaining or the same thing will happen to you that happened to Fiddler.”

  Michael released the strap on his Colt and moved forward. “What happened to Fiddler?” he asked slowly.

  Both men jumped and reached for their guns, but Michael cleared leather first.

  “We don’t know, boss,” the tall one said as he lifted his hands. “We was just talking.”

  “There will be no bonus from Raymond. He got his inheritance forty years ago and squandered it if rumors are true. His brother built this ranch without any help.”

  Michael lowered his gun as he continued, “Raymond has no right to the ranch, gentlemen. My wife is not leaving and there will be no accident.”

  He thought of firing them but reconsidered. He couldn’t afford to make enemies too quickly. “I’d like you men to decide if you want to work for me for a fair wage or pack your gear. But,
understand, if you stay, you stand with me, not Raymond Camanez.”

  The two men glared at each other. They were hard men, but not fools. Jobs with good wages and regular food were hard to come by. “We stay,” one said and the other nodded agreement. “None of us believed Raymond anyway when he talked of bonuses when he took over. He’s all talk.”

  Michael holstered his Colt. “All right. I’ve an assignment for you both. See if you can find out what happened to Fiddler and do it without Raymond, or anyone you think might be with him, aware that you’re looking. We need to find the bookkeeper if he’s still alive.”

  Both men nodded.

  Michael eyed the shorter of the two. “Smith, right?”

  “Yes, sir. Ace Smith.” The man seemed surprised Michael remembered his name.

  “I’ll expect that report tonight. I’ll meet you in the chapel after supper.”

  Both men tipped their hats. “We’ll do our best,” Smith said.

  Michael moved away to saddle his horse. It crossed his mind that he could have passed the job along to someone else, but he believed a man should always take care of his own mount. Besides, if accidents were predicted, he wanted to make sure no one got close.

  He saw Smith and his friend saddling up. The tall man walked over to Michael while his friend waited in the morning sun. After a few moments of just standing, the man said, “Mind my asking why you didn’t fire us on the spot, Mr. Hughes?”

  “No, I don’t mind.” Michael climbed on his horse. “I knew a lot of men once who no one gave a second chance to. Some were worthless, but others might have made better men if anyone had let them try.”

  “Fair enough. We want you to know, we don’t hold nothing against your little wife. Thanks for giving us a shot.” The man turned to move away.

  “You’re welcome, Phil.” Michael finally thought of the second man’s name.

  He rode out knowing Cozette would be safe with his uncles watching over her. He needed to make sure the ranch hands were with him and the only way was to spend the day in the saddle. When he reached the cattle he was glad to see two dozen hands already hard at work.