The Frasers Clay

by Ana Leigh

  She’d made a drastic mistake when they arrived in Sacramento. She should have said a final good-bye to Clay at the stockyard. Prolonging the inevitable was just making it harder. Her control on her emotions was slipping, not strengthening. How could she get over loving this man, as long as she remained with him? She had to keep him entirely out of her life. No more meals together. Avoid any further contact, even the sight of him, the sound of his voice.

  The way he’d talked at dinner, it was evident that he had no qualms about parting. He clearly couldn’t wait to get back to Virginia.

  Face it now, Rebecca. Once and for all.

  First thing in the morning she would locate her brother, and then hire a lawyer to dissolve the marriage.

  Just as she rolled over to blow out the lamp, a light tap sounded on the connecting door.

  “Becky, are you awake?”

  Rebecca bit her lip. She’d be much wiser to pretend she was sleeping, but what if it was something important?

  “What is it, Clay?”

  “May I come in? I have something that belongs to you.”

  Rebecca got up, pulled on her dressing gown, and unlocked the door. “What is it?”

  He stepped into the room and closed the door. He was barefoot and bare-chested, and his hair glistened with moisture from the bath he had just taken. A faint scent of bay soap carried to her nostrils when he handed her Charley’s ring, which she’d lost when Eagle Claw had taken her. “I thought you might want this. I found it the day—”

  “I know.”

  “I forgot I had it. It must have been mixed up with some of my clothes and ended up on the bottom of my saddlebags.”

  “Thank you, Clay.” Grateful for the thoughtful gesture, she rose up on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek just as he turned his head. Her lips brushed his.

  Startled, they stared at each other. Then the warmth of his palm curled around the nape of her neck, as he drew her gently into his arms. Her breath quickened, and the flutter of her heart became a hammering in her ears.

  Clay lowered his head, covering her mouth with the warm, moist pressure of his own.

  His lips were firm and searching. The kiss, demanding. When he held her tighter, she curled into the curve of his muscled strength, her body tingling from the contact.

  Breathlessness forced their lips apart, but her passion soared from the tantalizing slide of his lips along her neck before he reclaimed her lips, where his tongue explored the heated chamber of her mouth.

  Her emotions whirled. This would only make their parting more difficult to bear; but how could anything that felt so wonderful be wrong? Why not make the most of whatever time remained?

  She surrendered to the swirling passion of the kiss.

  With a ragged gasp, Clay broke the kiss. Burying his hands in her hair, he cupped her head and forced her gaze to his. His warm brown eyes looked deeply into hers.

  “Are you sure this is what you want, Becky? It’s not too late to stop,”

  “If this is to be our last night together, let it be our final memory, too.”

  His smile was as tender as the kiss he pressed to her lips. Then he slipped her dressing gown off her shoulders. Her loving gaze never strayed from his beloved face as she memorized every feature, while he undid the buttons of her nightdress. Then he pulled it over her head and cast it aside.

  She felt neither shame nor modesty as she stood naked under his sweeping perusal. Rather, she gloried in the knowledge that her female sensuality could match the cravings of his male passion. He had taught her that lesson.

  He released his pants and stepped out of them, naked beneath them. She studied him boldly, memorizing the beauty of his long, muscular body.

  Then she reached out and lovingly followed the width of his shoulders and breadth of his chest with her fingertips. Lowering her head, she placed a light kiss in the midst of the dark hair, the quickening of her breath matching his.

  “Becky. Becky,” he moaned. He whispered her name against her lips, and then lifted her into his arms.

  Easing her gently down on the bed, he covered her with his own body, the warmth of her flesh as tantalizing as the hardness of his body. His tongue caressed her taut nipples and the silken skin of her stomach. She matched his passion with her own uninhibited exploration.

  Their lovemaking was tender as they explored, aroused, and satisfied each other. Giving, taking, sharing in an unspoken expression of love that neither would admit aloud.

  She fell asleep with his name on her lips. He slipped into slumber holding her in his arms.

  Clay awoke to find Becky curled up beside him. After last night he knew he was in much deeper than he’d originally planned—but he guessed Becky was in the same situation, which could work in his favor. There were several obstacles to overcome, though, and he had to keep a clear head and work it out so he could convince her.

  He eased himself out of bed, and then, grabbing his Levi’s, he opened the connecting door and closed it carefully behind him. He was surprised to see Garth sitting at the table with pen and paper.

  Garth looked up and gave Clay’s nakedness a once over. “Well, Brother Clay, you’ve either lost your drawers in a poker game, or you were in bed with your wife.”

  “Shh, keep your voice down,” Clay said. “You’ll wake Becky.” He found a pair of drawers in his saddlebags, then dressed.

  “Took you long enough,” Garth said. “For a while, I figured you’d never make it. So what are you going to do about it? Kind of blows the plan for an annulment, doesn’t it?”

  “That plan went up in smoke the night Becky and I stayed in that cabin.”

  “Took you that long, huh?”

  Clay glared at him. “Garth, get off the subject, or I’m going to start busting up this furniture with you.”

  “Easy, Clay, I’m only kidding. What’s chewing at your craw?”

  Clay dropped down on the bed and stretched out with his hands under his head. “Sorry. I’ve got myself pinned into a corner and can’t get out.”

  “You mean with Becky?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got to figure out what to do about it.”

  “You really want to get out of this marriage?”

  “That’s what she wants.”

  “I can’t believe that. Becky strikes me as a woman who wouldn’t go to bed with a man if she didn’t love him. How do you feel about her?”

  Clay stood up and began to pace the floor. “Confused. I’d like to give this marriage a chance, but it seems like she can’t wait to get it over with. And even if I tried to convince her to try it out, I know she’d never go back to Virginia with me. She hates Southerners, remember?”

  Garth grinned. “I think the journey here got that out of her blood.”

  “But, it’s a double-edged sword, Garth. She’d be miserable living in the South; there’d be people there who wouldn’t accept her just because she’s a Yankee.”

  “Both of you are damn fools if you let other people live your lives for you. Forget Virginia and build a life here. This is as good a time as any, Clay, to tell you I’ve made up my mind that I’m not going back yet.”

  “You aren’t really going to go chasing after that pot of gold, are you?”

  Garth held up the sheet of paper he’d been working on. “I’ve been thinking about that gold mine my whole life, Clay. Even drew up this map from memory. And I’ll never have a better time than this. I figured you’d join me, but since you and Becky might stay married, I’ll do it on my own.”

  “When do you plan on going back home?”

  “I figure that in a few years they’ll have a railroad running across this country from shore to shore. By then, maybe I’ll be ready to go back and settle down.”

  “Part of Fraser Keep belongs to you, Garth.”

  He shook his head. “Fraser Keep belongs to Will— he’s worked his ass off to keep that place going. I love our home, but I’ve got to find something that’s mine alone. Something that I created
with my sweat and blood.”

  “I can’t imagine what the place will be like without you.” Clay slumped down and buried his head in his hands. “This is a double blow—losing a wife and a brother at the same time.”

  “You aren’t losing a brother. And as for your wife, Becky is the kind of woman a man dreams about his whole life. Why would you ever consider giving her up?”

  “You’ve got that wrong, Garth. She wants to give me up.”

  Garth chuckled. “You gonna let a Yankee win this battle?” He folded up his map and put it in his pocket, then shoved back his chair and stood up. “I’ll wait for you in the dining room.”

  Garth paused on the way out and slapped Clay on the shoulder. “Swallow your pride, Brother Clay. Don’t let her get away from you. Why don’t you come right out and tell her that you love her?”

  Clay was taken aback. “Who said I love her? She’s my wife; she’s my responsibility, I have an obligation to—”

  Garth cut him off. “Brother Clay, face the facts: you know damn well you love her.”

  Clay grinned widely. “You can tell I’ve really got a problem, if I have to take my younger brother’s advice.”

  “Who happens to know a damn sight more about women than you do. You forgetting about Ellie?”

  “Ellie who?” Clay said, grinning, and gave his brother a light kick in the butt as Garth left the room.

  Why was he trying to fool himself? There was a good reason why he wanted them to stay together. He had done the unimaginable: He’d fallen in love with his wife.

  26

  Rebecca had opened her eyes in time to see Clay leaving. Sneaking away, more like it. It was just as well; what do you say after a night of making love to your husband when you know he intends to leave you the next day? When she had promised to give him his freedom, she hadn’t planned on falling in love with him.

  And making love made it even harder to say goodbye to him. Now she couldn’t even look at him without remembering the thrill of his kiss, his touch, the feel of his arms around her. Worse, she’d miss his grin, the warmth of his chuckle, and the sound of his voice.

  If only she could sneak away without having to face him again… but that was impossible. They had to meet with a lawyer to terminate their marriage.

  What if she suggested they try to make a go of their marriage? He would probably laugh at her. She had dug this hole for herself, now she had to live with it.

  As if he could read her mind, Clay rapped on the door and called out, “Becky, are you awake?”

  She appreciated his courtesy in knocking before entering her room. But that was Clay; a gentleman to the end.

  She rose from the bed and pulled on her robe. Now he was free to return to Virginia. That’s what he’d wanted from the beginning. And then she could begin to put her life in order—but Lord, it would hurt.

  “Yes, come in, Clay.”

  Clay opened the door. “Good morning.”

  He didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable about last night. Maybe she had just dreamed the whole incident. She might try to convince herself of that if he hadn’t just stepped on her nightgown where it lay on the floor.

  “How about breakfast?” he asked. “Garth’s waiting for us downstairs. He’s leaving today, and wants to say goodbye to you before he goes.”

  She felt a sadness that he’d no longer be around with his cheerfulness. At least he’d be remaining in California; maybe their paths would cross again.

  “You go ahead. I’m not dressed yet,” she said, picking up the nightgown.

  “I can wait.”

  She began to collect her toilet articles. “That’s not necessary. Order me whatever you’re having. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  Rebecca gave herself a hurried sponge bath and returned to her room, where she dressed quickly, groomed her hair, and pinned on her hat.

  Clay and Garth were at a corner table in the dining room. Both men rose to their feet when she approached. That Southern chivalry hadn’t been exaggerated; she couldn’t think of a time when Charley got to his feet to help seat her.

  But making comparisons between the two men wasn’t fair to either one. They were raised in different worlds—and so were she and Clay. Face it, Rebecca, you could never fit into his world.

  The waiter immediately brought her a large glass of orange juice that Clay had ordered for her.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I love oranges.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Clay said.

  “If I were rich, I’d plant myself an orange grove so I could just pick one off a tree whenever I wanted to.”

  Garth chuckled. “Some women would have dreams of fancy gowns, others expensive jewels. There’s no accounting for the female mind.”

  “Is that right, Garth Fraser? And what do you men dream about?”

  Garth’s grin was endearing. “A woman who prefers oranges to diamonds and pearls.” He winked at Clay. “You’ve struck gold here, Brother Clay. I’d hang on to her if I were you.”

  Garth was about as subtle as a sledgehammer, and sat there looking pleased with himself.

  Try as he might, Clay couldn’t keep his eyes off Rebecca. He would not accept that this would be their last day together. As soon as they were alone, he would try to convince her that they should make the marriage work.

  Hadn’t her life been tough enough without adding the stigma of being divorced? Society accepted a divorced man with some qualms, but practically hung a scarlet letter around the woman’s neck.

  After breakfast, they went through the painful parting with Garth. Clay wished his brother well, and told him to be sure to keep in touch so the family would know where he was.

  It was impossible for Becky to avoid tears when he kissed her good-bye and she watched another dear friend ride away.

  Then Clay insisted upon accompanying her to her brother’s house.

  A young woman opened the door when she rang the bell. “May I help you?” she asked with a pleasant smile.

  “Is this the residence of Matthew Brody?”

  “Yes, it is. I’m Mrs. Brody.”

  Matt was married? Though why shouldn’t he be? After all, she was on her second husband.

  The woman was very lovely, with long-lashed brown eyes that were regarding her with friendly curiosity at the moment.

  “How do you do,” Rebecca said. “I’m Matt’s sister. And this is my husband, Clayton Fraser.”

  “You’re Becky!” She stepped aside. “Please come in.”

  Once inside, the woman hugged and kissed her. “I’m Virginia. Matt speaks of you often, and he’ll be so glad to see you. Sit down while I get him. He’s right outside, in the backyard.”

  Rebecca sank down in an upholstered chair, eager to see her brother after almost seven years.

  “Becky!” Matt came rushing into the room. She jumped up and they hugged and kissed, then he stepped back and looked at her. “I can’t believe it’s really you, after all these years. You look wonderful.”

  “Oh, Matt, it’s so good to see you.” Her eyes misted with unshed tears. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him until she saw that boyish grin of his again.

  He reached for his wife’s hand. “And this is Ginny, my wife. She tells me you’re married.”

  “Clay Fraser,” Clay said offering his hand.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Clay. So tell us, when did you get here? How did you get here? And why didn’t you write and let us know you were coming?”

  Same old Matt, she thought affectionately. He hadn’t changed a bit. “Hey, slow up. One question at a time,” she said.

  “Why don’t we go into the kitchen?” Ginny suggested. “There’s coffee on the stove, and we can have a cup while the two of you get caught up.”

  “And there’s a lot of catching up to do,” Rebecca said.

  “Becky, you should have let me know you were coming. What if I’d moved out of Sacramento?” Matt asked.

  “I did. Didn’t you ge
t my letter? I wrote it about six months ago.”

  “No, I’ve never received it.”

  Rebecca described to them the hazards of the trip, her kidnapping by Eagle Claw, and her ultimate arrival in California. “Now, tell me all about yourselves. How did you meet? How long have you been married? I want to hear all about it.”

  They found out that Ginny was the daughter of one of the prospectors Matt had met while he was panning for gold; they’d fallen in love and gotten married.

  How simple and uncomplicated, Rebecca thought. Why couldn’t she and Clay have done the same?

  “Are you still prospecting, Matt?” Clay asked.

  “No, I gave that up when Ginny and I married. I’m an agent now for Leland Stanford. He’s president of the Central Pacific Railroad out here.”

  “What do you mean by agent?” Rebecca asked.

  “Mr. Stanford owns a lot of land and property in this area. I sell it for him. With this population influx, due to the war, it has been a very profitable venture for me.” He grinned at Ginny. “Certainly more profitable than prospecting was.”

  “I’m going to have to decide what I’ll do for a job,” Rebecca said.

  If Matt found the statement strange, he didn’t indicate that. “What are you qualified to do, Becky?” Matt asked.

  “I think I could do anything I set my mind to,” she said. “I’m good with figures, and I love to cook and bake—I worked in a bakery for years. Maybe I can find a job working in one, or in a restaurant.”

  Matt leaned forward. “Have you considered opening your own bakery?”

  “I would love to, but I… we don’t have the money to get started.”

  “Don’t be too sure about that. There’s a property for sale just a few blocks from here that used to be a bakery. It’s in excellent condition and there’s living quarters above it.”

  “Oh, Becky, that would be ideal for you two,” Ginny enthused.

  “We only have six hundred dollars. I’m sure it would cost much more than that to buy a building and the supplies I’d need.”

  “Why not consider leasing it for six months and see if it will work out? It’s in a good location, and I would think you could attract a lot of customers. The town’s full of single men who would love fresh baked goods.”