by Jodi Thomas
Unfolding the camisole, she slipped it on, loving the soft silk against her skin. She’d never owned anything so grand with lace and ribbons no one would even see. Laughter bubbled from her. He was a strange husband, buying such things for her and never saying anything. Almost as if he didn’t want his kindness to show. As always, it was the things he didn’t say that told her so much.
Covering the new garments with her worn dress, Kora ran her hand down to her waist remembering the way he’d touched her. Win was a good man, strong and fair. In time, if she stayed long enough, she’d learn to take his bedding. It was a small price to pay. The world might see him as a bear, but she saw another side. A side that was full of longing and sadness. A side she wanted to hold and understand.
The thought of Andrew Adams crossed her mind. Kora flinched. She couldn’t imagine allowing Adams to touch her, and the thought of kissing him made her almost gag. He’d given her up for a few dollars, something Win would never do. For the first time, Kora was valued, and that one thought mattered more than the house or the ranch or all the money in all the banks in Texas. She could see it in the hunger of Win’s eyes when he looked at her.
Maybe the world had settled and her bad luck had passed. Maybe she could stay here and make a home for Dan and Jamie.
She hurried down the stairs knowing there was much to be done before the rest of the house awakened. Both of the wounded cowhands would return to the bunkhouse today. She had to clean the rooms and be ready. Everyone spoke of trouble as though they could already see the storm coming. They spoke of ‘‘when,’’ not ‘‘if.’’ But she’d seen no sign of anything happening.
‘‘It won’t come this time,’’ she whispered, trying to convince herself as she worked. ‘‘I won’t let it.’’
Jamie stumbled into the kitchen about the time the coffee boiled. She hadn’t bothered to wash or comb her hair. She grumbled about how Wyatt hadn’t returned from the game even to say good night.
Before Kora could offer any excuse for the gambler, Winter walked through the kitchen looking as out of sorts as always. He stepped out onto the porch and turned the icy pitcher of water over his head. The women could hear him swearing when the water hit him.
Jamie griped about the wild man her sister married, but Kora only touched the lace of her camisole. He could be as moody as he liked; he wasn’t going to frighten her away by growling. She acted as if she didn’t notice him as he reached in and took one of her new kitchen towels to dry his hair without saying a word to her.
‘‘Men!’’ Jamie snorted. ‘‘They’re a plague on this earth, that’s what they are! Worse than the curse and more irritating than fleas. I’m finished with the lot.’’
‘‘I thought you liked Wyatt.’’ Kora readied the stove.
‘‘I hate him. He talks real pretty, but he hardly notices me. I’ll probably be married and have four younguns before it dawns on him to wonder what happened to me.’’
Winter stormed back through the kitchen.
‘‘Morning, cowboy,’’ Jamie chimed. ‘‘Get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? That is if you ever found your bed last night.’’
‘‘Quiet,’’ he mumbled, rubbing his forehead.
‘‘Don’t try to boss me around.’’ Jamie grew louder. ‘‘I’m not the one who gets up in such a foul mood every morning. You know, cowboy, I’m starting to think I’m worrying about the wrong person in this marriage of yours. Kora gets up all dressed and ready for life every morning, and you look like you’ve been cactus-drug all night.’’
Winter stormed out of the room without a word.
Jamie jumped from her chair and crossed to Kora. ‘‘I’m right.’’ She stared at Kora. ‘‘You are torturing the poor man. All this time I was worried about you, and he’s the one who’s aging every night. By the time I start liking having a brother-in-law, he’ll be near dead. Tell me, dear sister, what are you doing that makes his life such a living hell? What does he have to endure each night that takes ice water to shatter the memories of it at dawn?’’
‘‘Stop it, Jamie.’’ Kora didn’t meet her sister’s gaze. ‘‘He just doesn’t wake up in a good mood, that’s all.’’ She handed Jamie Dan’s tray. ‘‘Take your brother his breakfast.’’
Jamie left, promising she’d learn Kora’s secret about how to torment men. As soon as she’d gone, Kora filled a mug.
Winter was pulling on a clean shirt when she appeared on the stairs. ‘‘Thanks,’’ he said, taking the coffee from her hand.
‘‘Is something wrong?’’ Kora watched him closely while he drank. ‘‘Am I somehow torturing you, as Jamie said?’’
Winter took a step closer as he sipped his coffee. With his free hand he touched her throat. She didn’t move when his fingers slid along her shoulder and arm, finally resting on her waist.
‘‘You come so easy to me,’’ he whispered. ‘‘I never expected that. If that’s torture, it’s sweet indeed.’’
Kora didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure his words were praise. Surely he didn’t expect his wife to protest?
‘‘Unbutton your collar,’’ he ordered, watching her closely over the rim of his cup.
Straightening slightly, she slipped the first few buttons free. She saw no reason to deny his request.
‘‘Another,’’ he said.
Kora felt her cheeks warm beneath his gaze, but she slipped the next button free. When he waited, she moved to the next and the next until the top of her new camisole showed.
He opened her collar, exposing her throat. ‘‘The bruises look lighter today,’’ he whispered as his fingers slid over her skin.
Kora relaxed when his touch continued to brush her throat. Despite his rough talk, he was only worried about her. If only Jamie could see him now, she’d think him kind, not hard.
She closed her eyes and sighed as he lowered his lips to the bruises. His mouth was warm and he smelled of soap and coffee.
His hand worked another button free. Then another until the front of her blouse was open.
Kora didn’t move. She knew all she had to do was take a step back and she’d be free. No arms bound her.
He pulled a few inches away, his gaze meeting hers as his fingers shoved the material away to reveal her underclothing.
‘‘I touched you last night while you were sleeping,’’ he whispered as his gaze lowered.
‘‘I know,’’ she answered, feeling her skin warm to his stare. ‘‘I said I didn’t mind.’’
‘‘And now?’’ He moved his fingers lightly over the silk of her camisole. ‘‘Do you mind now?’’
‘‘No,’’ she answered as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
‘‘I’m glad,’’ he whispered. His hand moved maddeningly light over her. ‘‘You’d think I’d have had my fill after holding you all night, but it wasn’t near enough. Not even close.’’
He pushed one strap gently off her shoulder. The silk slipped lower. He slowly pushed the other strap down. The silk dropped so that he saw the swell of each breast and the hardened peaks just beneath the lace. ‘‘I won’t be sleeping in the study again.’’ He brushed his fingers over her. ‘‘I want your body within reach all night.’’
‘‘All right,’’ she whispered as she leaned her head back, enjoying the pleasure of his touch.
Slowly his hands slid to her waist, then began the climb upward, buttoning her blouse. Each button seemed a struggle, and his fingers fumbled across the lace. Finally, when he reached her throat, he raised his eyes to hers. ‘‘I have to go,’’ he whispered as his fingers brushed her chin. ‘‘With you standing before me like this it makes leaving you difficult.’’
Kora forced her thoughts to the problems of the ranch and not the memory of his touch. ‘‘Have you learned anything?’’
‘‘Nothing,’’ Win’s voice was still thick with passion. ‘‘But I told Cheyenne to let you in on every detail. You have a mind for reason inside that body that drove me mad last
night.’’
‘‘I’ll keep an eye on Wyatt. I still think he may know more than he’s saying.’’
She smiled a smile that almost made him forget what they were talking about. Their attraction for each other seemed to be sharpening her mind and dulling his, Win thought.
‘‘I’ll be here when you get back tonight,’’ she promised and saw the moment of doubt in his eyes.
‘‘Stay buttoned up until I get home.’’ He kissed her lightly. ‘‘I’ll tell you everything that happens today over supper, then I want to undress you.’’
‘‘I’ll keep supper warm until you return.’’ She smiled. ‘‘If you like.’’
His hand tighted at her waist. ‘‘I like what I see and what I feel very much, Kora. What about you? Would you enjoy me undressing you completely tonight?’’
She closed her eyes. ‘‘Yes,’’ she whispered. ‘‘I think I’d like that very much.’’
‘‘I won’t hurt you,’’ he promised as his fingers lightly circled over her back. ‘‘I never wanted to hurt you.’’
‘‘I know.’’ She slowly moved her hands to his shoulders. ‘‘I’ll be waiting for you tonight.’’
He bent and touched his mouth to her lips. A shock seemed to vibrate through his body. With one mighty sweep, he pulled her off the floor and into his arms.
She could taste the hunger in him as his lips pressed against hers and the kiss turned to fire between them.
Then, as quickly as he’d held her, he set her down and was gone. Kora felt light-headed. Slowly, with trembling hands, she checked the buttons of her dress, knowing she’d open it again tonight when he asked. His hunger for her made her feel all warm inside. She felt beautiful and cherished and desired. He might never say the words, but for the first time in her life, she felt loved.
The fire in his eyes fascinated her, and his slight touch had made her want to give him anything he asked. He was a man who seemed to need nothing… except her.
She hurried to the kitchen, knowing Winter would be back as soon as he saddled up. He made a habit of always stopping in before riding out. Always a second goodbye. He’d say nothing, but she’d meet his eyes and they’d both know he wanted to touch her once more.
As Kora worked, Jamie still complained about Wyatt ignoring her. Kora also paid little attention to her sister. She could still taste Winter’s lips on hers and her cheeks were warm from his touch.
‘‘Mornin’!’’ Wyatt yelled from the doorway. ‘‘Win says you got coffee ready.’’
He stepped into the kitchen with Cheyenne a few feet behind. The Indian was leaning heavily on his crutch, indicating yesterday’s trip had not come without a price.
‘‘Win said he’s going to cover the south rim again today,’’ Wyatt announced, ‘‘but I think I’ll stay around and keep you ladies and Cheyenne company, at least until the riders who were out all night come in. Then I might wander down to the settlement and look for a game.’’ The gambler tossed a gold coin in the air and winked at Jamie. ‘‘That is, if I can think of nothing else to do.’’
Jamie walked past Wyatt as if he were invisible and she heard nothing. ‘‘Morning, Cheyenne,’’ she said in a voice laced with honey.
Before Cheyenne could answer, Jamie stood on her tiptoes and kissed him hard on the mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck vise-tight.
Kora and Wyatt stared.
Jamie broke the kiss suddenly and walked out of the room, leaving Wyatt staring after her with his mouth open and fire in his eyes.
Cheyenne wiped his mouth hard with the back of his hand. ‘‘I’d like that coffee if it’s ready.’’ He limped to the table as if nothing needed to be said about what happened.
‘‘I’d like to kill her!’’ Wyatt stormed.
Kora poured the coffee. ‘‘She’s just upset about last night.’’
‘‘Well, she didn’t have to take it out on me!’’ Wyatt snapped.
‘‘On me, you mean,’’ Cheyenne answered without emotion.
Wyatt wasn’t listening. ‘‘I’ve hardly spoken to another girl since we’ve been stepping out. She knows how I feel about her.’’ He paced the kitchen. ‘‘First she looks at the stars with the doc and now this. I don’t know how much more I can take.’’
‘‘Maybe you should marry the girl, Wyatt. Then at least she’d leave me out of the fight.’’
‘‘I’m not the marrying kind.’’ Wyatt stared at the door where she’d exited. ‘‘But I’m not going to stand for this. She knows she’s my girl and it’s time she started acting like it.’’
When he stormed out of the room, Kora glanced at Cheyenne. ‘‘Do you think I should call Win in to try and stop him?’’
‘‘You mean before Wyatt gets himself killed?’’ Cheyenne laughed. ‘‘No, I never was too crazy about the gambler anyway. I’ll pick up the body parts she throws over the banister after I’ve had my coffee.’’
Winter returned to a silent kitchen. As he reached for his hat, he heard something crash from the floor above. He glanced in question at Kora and Cheyenne, but neither of them moved. ‘‘What’s wrong?’’
‘‘Nothing,’’ they both said, grinning.
Cheyenne cleared his throat. ‘‘The gambler just might be asking for Jamie’s hand. By tonight we’ll either have a wedding or a funeral. My money’s on the funeral.’’
Though Win nodded, his mind was on something else. He grabbed Kora’s hand and pulled her out of the kitchen without another word. On the porch he let go of her fingers and faced her. ‘‘Remember,’’ he whispered. ‘‘No matter how late, wait up.’’
Kora smiled. ‘‘I’ll stay dressed.’’ She draped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him soundly, even though they both knew half the ranch could be watching.
‘‘You’re awfully bold, woman.’’ He smiled when she let him go.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘‘Do you mind?’’
‘‘Not a chance,’’ he answered as he walked away.
Riding south, Winter began at the corner of his land and rode toward Break’s Settlement. He’d moved most of his cattle to the north pastures, but a small herd of longhorns still roamed among the uneven ground by the south edge.
He’d always liked the sturdy longhorns. They were powerful animals with their long curved horns and ornery dispositions. But they were survivors. He’d brought other lines in working on improving his herd, but it was always the longhorns who survived the hard winters and hot summers.
About midafternoon he saw a cow low in the draw, stuck in a muddy creek. For a moment he watched her struggling, thinking how strange that the animal would get herself in such a mess. She was far deeper in the water than she would have needed to go to get a drink.
Unhooking his rope, he moved down the rocky incline toward her. If he didn’t take the time to pull her out, the coyotes would get her before morning.
Just as he threw his lasso, he realized he wasn’t alone. Three men, almost completely hidden behind the cottonwoods, were watching him.
They were close enough to have gotten off a shot, but they hadn’t. He glanced over the muddy ground and realized the cow had been driven into the water.
As he worked, he kept his hand close to his Colt, expecting to hear a shot any moment. But the men stayed well back, only outlines among the trees.
Winter struggled for a few more minutes to free the cow, then saw them moving toward him. They were men he’d seen around, but couldn’t put a name to any face.
‘‘Afternoon, Mr. McQuillen!’’ one yelled. ‘‘We was just riding along and saw you might need a little help.’’
Winter knew they were lying, but he was also curious about what they might want. If they’d been ambushers, they would have fired from safety.
One of the men was playing with his rope while the others circled Win’s horse. ‘‘I’ll give you a hand.’’ He tried to sound casual.
The drifter on Win’s left began to work his lasso, also. Win shifted in the saddl
e. The cow on the other end of his rope kept him rooted; otherwise he’d have backed away from the strangers.
Just as the first man swung his rope, not toward the cow, but at Win, another swung a rifle butt toward Win’s head.
With his hands caught in his own rope, Win twisted violently to avoid the blow and got snared in the other stranger’s loop. A second later he hit the mud, rolling and fighting to reach his gun. Another rope circled his arm and pulled it tightly behind him.
Win fought to free himself as the men laughed and backed their horses until the ropes were tight. The man with the rifle slid from his saddle and moved cautiously toward Win.
‘‘We figure you took a blow to the head when you fell, mister. So here’s the blow.’’ The drifter swung twice before the wood of his rifle cracked against Win’s skull.
Though the world went dark, Win’s body still fought to pull free.
‘‘Drag him over to that nest of water moccasins, boys. We want this to look like an accident!’’ one of the men yelled. ‘‘The way he’s thrashing around, he’ll take a dozen bites, maybe more, before we can pull him out.’’
The ropes tightened around his shoulder and arm as Win slid across the mud and water. He fought wildly but couldn’t free himself.
‘‘Keep the ropes tight while the snakes bite!’’ the leader yelled again. ‘‘We don’t want him getting lucky and drowning. We want to take him back alive so we’ll be heroes. Then when the poison seeps in, it’ll look like we done our best to save him. While they’re mourning, we’ll follow the rest of the plan.’’
Water rushed over Winter, barely deep enough to cover him before he felt them. Snakes, thin and fast moving over him, curling around his legs, crossing over his chest.
Water moccasins. Winter’s mind drifted back to when he was a boy living among his mother’s people.
