by Carol Arens
He squeezed her, gently kneading, tugging her nipple between his finger and thumb, then slipping his hand sideways, caressed her other breast.
Forbidden fruit, forbidden fruit, forbidden fruit! She repeated it over and over in her mind, but that only made her want to taste it fully.
What would it be like to feel the warm moist heat of his mouth tugging where his fingers plucked and gently twisted? All of a sudden she wanted that knowledge more than anything.
Her heartbeat raced, she panted and there was not a single thing she could do to control it.
Lantree withdrew his hands from under her camisole with a quiet groan.
It was only then that she noticed that the crickets had fallen silent and footsteps were approaching the pond.
From a short distance away came a relieved sigh, then the sound of a stream of urine pelting weeds. After a moment, the footsteps went back the way they had come.
Lantree turned her away from him but then tugged her close once more, spooning his big Viking body about hers.
She snuggled backward, cherishing the moment.
“The time’s coming, Rebecca. I intend to make you my wife in every way. Just not out here with a bunch of snoring cowboys to witness.” He kissed the top of her head. “Sleep now, love.”
With what had happened, she would have sworn that to be impossible but when her eyes blinked open, it was nearly dawn and Grandfather was tending to the horses.
* * *
Heavy clouds pressed heat close to the ground. Rebecca stood beside the railroad tracks, the neck of her blouse growing damp with sweat. Even her hair felt clammy at the roots.
Respectable-size crowds had gathered on both sides of the tracks. Even though the official railroad ceremony would not occur for months, plenty of folks had been of the same mind as the Moreland group. No matter how one felt about it, the arrival of the first train was exciting.
For everyone’s sake, she hoped that the train would come on schedule. It couldn’t be long before people started fainting from the close air.
Billings was growing fast. All the structures were new, the lumber still fresh with the scent of resin. Not a stick of it from Moreland land, though. Alongside the new construction, tents were erected, folks ready to do business even before the buildings were finished.
For all its rapid growth, the young town could not accommodate everyone who had come to greet the train.
Not wanting to stay in Coulson, Lantree had found them a shady campsite beside the river. Other ranchers had done the same.
Many of them knew Grandfather, Lantree and the hands. There had been two nights of pleasant socializing beside the Yellowstone, along with many heartfelt congratulations to the newlyweds.
She had thanked everyone with a smile. Not a forced smile for a pretend marriage, either. To her surprise her thanks was genuine. While she didn’t quite feel like a bride, neither did she feel like an imposter.
Just when she had come to accept that she was married, that perhaps she was content with the situation, she could not say.
The kisses had swayed her. There was no denying how much she enjoyed them. But kisses alone would not explain her softened attitude. The change had to have begun during the nights they spent alone together in the cabin. Bonds of friendship had been formed, then without her being fully aware, deeper feelings must have taken root.
Roots, she reckoned, were a beginning. Most growing things began with roots.
Now, after last night, there was a glow in her chest, and she liked the warmth of it too much to quash it entirely.
It seemed a natural action to slip her hand into her husband’s. He stood head and shoulders above everyone.
He seemed pleased by her touch. With a quick kiss on her cheek, he squeezed her hand.
Ah well, life would play out as it would. If a real marriage resulted, she would be happy about it.
All at once the crowd began to murmur. Hands waved and pointed toward the east. Miles away, black smoke became visible. Although the train was still a good distance away, they could hear the whistle blowing.
Fathers lifted small children onto their shoulders while business owners hurried out of buildings and tents.
A dozen or more brightly dressed whores who had come from Coulson stood in a wagon waving.
In addition to a three-man band on a platform, there was Mayor Smothers and Coulson’s wild-looking lawman. Behind them stood railroad officials. One of them was Mr. Billings himself, so the rumors went.
Smothers glanced at the Moreland group a time or two but his gaze slid across her as though she were a stranger. Which...in spite of everything that had happened, she was.
It was unlikely that he had gotten over being shoved out a window, his ridiculous plans thwarted, but maybe he had accepted the fact that she was now a married woman.
At any rate, she felt safe enough with Grandfather flanking her on the right and Lantree on the left, with Tom and Jeeter close by.
When a subtle rumble shook the ground, she forgot about the mayor altogether. The train was coming!
A baby cried. Dogs barked and horses stomped as the huge black engine charged forward on the tracks.
The band played a rousing tune in welcome but the sound was soon drowned out by the clack of metal wheels reverberating on the tracks.
Foolishly, a few men fired guns in celebration. Lantree frowned and moved behind her, then drew her close to his chest. His arms, great bands of muscle, wrapped protectively around her.
Many people eagerly waved small flags.
No matter how things changed for the area, this was a great and exciting moment.
Approaching the train station, the engineer applied the brakes and the whistle. A cloud of steam billowed all around.
One could now see passengers waving their arms out of the windows in excited greeting.
Smiling porters exited the railcars first, helping folks with their bags as they stepped down. There were plenty of families, settlers looking eager to begin new lives, also men wearing suits probably hoping to create new businesses.
Loved ones found each other with tears and embraces. With the coming of the railroad, families would no longer suffer long separations.
A moment after the people began to disembark, the doors of the rear cars opened to unload supplies and livestock.
“This is quite a day.” Grandfather raised his voice to be heard above all the activity.
Lantree seemed to be studying each face that passed by. If she knew him, and she felt she did by now, he would be looking for signs of illness. He had to be concerned that what happened in his former town might happen here.
She found that she was also staring at faces, watching for any flare of recognition that someone had recognized Boone in Lantree.
In her opinion, one that did not seem to be shared among the others, he had put himself in a risky situation so that they could all witness this grand event. The sooner they were on the trail home, the safer he would be.
The safer Grandfather would be, as well. No matter that Smothers seemed uninterested, he made her stomach curl.
She lifted up on her toes, yanked Lantree’s hat lower over his face.
“Let’s go home,” she shouted in his ear.
“We ought to eat first.”
No, she couldn’t even try, not with all these strangers milling about who might know of Boone. She might dip his hat, but that could not hide his size.
Wherever he went, people’s gazes were drawn to him, as they were to her. The pair of them were bound to draw comment.
“We can eat on the way home,” she said. “Billings is making me nervous all of a sudden.”
“Your wife is right, boy,” Grandfather stated in the tone he used when making a no-arguments decree. “We�
��ve had our fun and now we’ll go home.”
“Wouldn’t mind a beer first,” Jeeter said, with his eyes trained wistfully on the brightly colored doves soliciting the men stepping off the train.
“That’s no fit way to get lai—” Tom glanced at Rebecca, his face going suddenly red. “Go hitch and water the team, you young fool.”
A movement at the corner of her eye drew Rebecca’s attention. Just the swing of a woman’s skirt and the set of her shoulders...but it felt familiar. Before she could get more than a fleeting impression, the crowd closed around her.
How odd.
She squeezed Lantree’s arm. The rightness of the gesture made her feel sunny inside. Maybe...just perhaps—
“Becca! Becca! Becca!” she heard a voice shout from behind her. This was impossible. It had to be a similar voice calling a similar name. “Rebecca Louise Lane!”
She let go of Lantree’s arm then spun about.
“Melinda!”
* * *
The young woman who had called Rebecca’s name dropped her bag on the platform and ran forward, her frilly skirt a cloud of blue. Even from this distance he heard her sob of joy.
Beside him Rebecca shrieked, then rushed to meet the girl who he reckoned could only be the cousin she had grown up with.
Melinda grabbed Rebecca about the waist. Rebecca dipped her head to her cousin’s shoulder. They cried all over each other for a moment, then stopped and gazed at one another at arm’s length.
Lantree walked forward and picked up Melinda’s bag where it lay forgotten.
“What are you doing here?” Clearly, Rebecca was still stunned. “I can’t believe it!”
“I told you I would shrivel up without you...so here I am.”
“You came all by yourself?” Rebecca glanced about and apparently did not spot anyone else she knew. “Why would you do something so dangerous?”
Lantree rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help it. Coming to Montana by train was a sight safer than coming by steamboat, to his way of thinking.
“I’ve been sick with worry this whole time, Becca. How could I be certain you had even made it here? At least for me there was no danger. Sitting on a bench hour upon endless hour is hardly risky. Unless one dies of boredom, that is.”
“But you don’t even know where the ranch is! How would you have found me if I hadn’t come to see the train?”
He cringed inside. Melinda probably would have done the same thing that his wife had, set out willy-nilly and assume no harm would come to her.
“Of course you’d be here. It’s the first train. You would never miss something as grand as that. I was sure you’d be here.”
Melinda’s gaze left Rebecca for the first time. She glanced at Lantree then the others, who had looks on their faces that ranged from surprise to confusion to admiration.
Jeeter no longer appeared sullen over having been denied the charms of the painted ladies.
And why would he? Melinda Winston was an exceptional beauty. Blonde and petite, with blue eyes that sparkled with humor, a full sensuous mouth that, from all he could see, laughed often. She was a woman who no doubt left a man smitten for the simple reason that she’d smiled at him.
With a sinking heart, Lantree understood what prompted his Becca to feel the way she did about her appearance. Any female standing beside Melinda would feel less of a woman.
For one who felt like an ugly duckling to begin with... Well, damn it, there was more than one ideal of beauty.
For her whole life, Rebecca would have heard the comparisons, from her aunt, from potential beaus and even from strangers.
Curse it, here was Jeeter all but drooling and Tom nearly so. He’d give them a swift kick in the pants if he could do it without anyone asking why.
If it took him the rest of his life, he was going to make Rebecca understand that her beauty was as outstanding as any woman’s. To his mind she was the loveliest woman alive, from her soul to her bones to the curve of her smile.
It had become clear that he could not live without her.
“You’ve found your grandfather!” Melinda walked toward Hershal with her fair, delicate-looking hand extended. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Mr. Moreland.”
Hershal shook her hand but did not stop with that formal greeting. Without letting go of her wrist he wrapped Melinda in a hug.
“I’m glad that you’ve come, little miss. Our Rebecca has missed you. She speaks of you daily.”
After a moment of soaking up the old man’s hug, Melinda glanced at the rest of them, clearly anxious for an introduction.
“Melinda, this is Tom Camp,” Rebecca said.
Tom nodded and shook her hand.
“This is Jeeter Spruce.” Jeeter also shook her hand, holding it so reverently that it was obvious that he wanted to kiss it. “Tom and Jeeter work for Grandfather.”
Melinda looked up at Lantree, her blue eyes a-twinkle. Something was turning over in her mind but damned if he could tell what.
“And this...” Rebecca took a sidestep toward him. “Well, this is, Lantree Walker...my grandfather’s head man.”
That introduction left him gut punched.
Not her husband, but Hershal’s employee.
The intimacy they’d shared by the pond had meant something to him. It had to her, he’d bet his life on it. He’d seen it in her eyes, heard it in her sigh.
Since then, there had been an attachment between them that had not been there before and he knew damn well he had not imagined it.
At some point Rebecca’s cousin was going to learn of the marriage, but it would not be from him. This was something for Rebecca to reveal as she would.
It ate at him, though, wondering if when they returned to the ranch Rebecca would continue to live with him in the cabin.
Melinda’s arrival had changed things. The woman hadn’t only brought along a big, fully-stuffed trunk. She had brought Rebecca’s former life.
Would his wife choose it over him?
It had been her choice to leave Kansas City, but with everything that had happened since she arrived, he couldn’t help but wonder if she regretted coming.
She had never wanted marriage...he hadn’t, either. But now he did. With all the obstacles it presented, still he wanted it.
Much more than he had with Eloise. He’d been devastated when she left him, but that had more to do with the way she’d left him. She’d publicly announced him a wretched failure then marched away and married someone else before he had even scraped the remains of his heart from the cemetery stones. He couldn’t say that once the relationship ended he had truly missed her.
This would not be the case with Rebecca. She was a woman of strength, of compassion. If, for whatever reason, they parted, he would miss her...the woman, her heart and soul and everything that made her who she was.
He wanted this marriage. He only hoped that she felt the same way.
* * *
After only two hours on the trail, the oppressive heat of the afternoon gave way to rain. Lightning arched across the sky. Thunder rumbled through the wood slats of the wagon.
Rebecca didn’t relish the thought of being caught out in the open during a storm, but that was nothing compared to remaining in town and having her nerves spin like a whirling dervish whenever someone looked overlong at Lantree.
Melinda suggested that they remain in Coulson for the night. She must wonder why her companions were acting so rashly. No one had as yet explained about Smothers or about Boone and the reasons for their haste to get out of town.
Perhaps it was Rebecca’s place to tell her...just like it had been her place to introduce Lantree as her husband.
It’s not that she had not wanted to. The joy of her news had been bubbling up in her...until she caught the l
ook on her cousin’s face.
Melinda had taken one look at Lantree and fallen in love with him. She knew her cousin too well to not know this was true.
Just now, while she and her cousin rode in the back of the wagon getting caught up on who had done what to who back in Kansas City, she watched Melinda’s gaze settle on Lantree’s broad back, the fall of blond hair on his shoulders.
A drip of water hit the bag of rice that served as their bench. Grandfather reached behind him, freed a tarp and tossed it back to them.
Rebecca settled it over their heads, shoulders and the rice. Melinda tucked a second cover over their knees and wrapped it about their feet.
Rain tapped on the tarp. She glanced up to see Grandfather and Lantree shrugging into their slickers, hurrying to get settled before the downpour began in earnest.
All in all, the quick shelter that she shared with Melinda was cozy.
“Montana certainly grows some handsome men.” Melinda arched a brow. “And tall.”
Yes, tall and handsome...strong yet gentle, compassionate, heroic...
She wanted to jump off the wagon and drown in the mud because, if it had not been for Melinda’s sudden arrival, she would have shared Lantree’s bed the moment they got home.
The desire to know him in a carnal way hummed below the surface of her skin. It made her want to stretch like a cat in the sun, but at the same time it made her nervous, touchy in her woman parts.
But here Melinda was, and with a twinkle in her eye. Rebecca knew from experience that no man could resist that twinkle.
“No wonder you are in love, Becca. This beautiful country goes straight to your heart.”
She nodded because if she spoke she would weep.
Of course, she could tell Melinda that Lantree was her husband and she loved him, but what good would it do?
Years ago, she had been enamored of a young man, and he had showed some interest in her...but only until he met Melinda. One innocent smile from her cousin and the fellow fell hard. That’s how it always went. Melinda was joyful sunshine and Rebecca her long shadow.
Within a few days Lantree would be in love, too. Just in love with Melinda.
