by Anna Murray
"No. Oh no. You're--"
"Darlin' I can't help it. That happens to a man," he whispered as he lazily traced the shape of her hip. "Don't worry. I'm just wantin' to hold you. I'm just wantin' to show you how nice it can be when a man cares for a woman. Please. You can relax. Let me be close with a beautiful woman for a little while. That's all I need. Please," he added again. He kissed her neck. "Besides, I wouldn't dare rip out those stitches." He sighed heavily and raggedly into her long thick hair.
Sarah's head was spinning. He thinks I'm beautiful. She yearned to make similar declarations, but when she opened her mouth the words stuck in her suddenly swollen throat. Just then he was driving her to distraction, brushing his thumbs lightly across her nipples, which responded by tightening into hard knots. Waves of pleasure rolled over her as he lightly explored her body to learn her response to his touch.
When she couldn't take any more she turned to face him, and her lips brushed across his cheek boldly as they traveled to his mouth. She slid lightly across his lower lip.
Cal's need turned urgent; he pushed her lips open hungrily and burned her mouth with his possession. His thigh pushed between her legs, and he felt the liquid heat radiating from inside her. He breathed deeply and savored the scent of her womanhood. Smoothly he ran his hands down to her hips, cupped and stroked her backside and, groaning, pulled her tightly up against his warm, body, taut with desire.
Moaning from low in her throat belied pure, raw passion.
Just as Cal was frantically trying to tell himself that they'd gone as far as he could reasonably tolerate, Sarah was responding as if she couldn't get enough. She pushed into Cal's body, instinctively rubbing against him. Her moans became continuous, and her hot tongue ran down his neck. Her hands caressed his hard chest bluntly, honestly, and Cal was startled by the depth of her sexual response. He couldn't recall knowing a woman so bold and direct.
"More . . . it aches. Oh, Oh." She panted breathlessly, craving something new to her.
Cal looked into her brimming eyes. "You're amazing." His own were filled with the dawn mist. "I can help you take away the ache, and I will go gently -- will you let me?"
Sara panted uncontrollably, dragged her hands over his broad chest. "Please," she begged.
Cal shakily reached to unbutton the front of her nightgown. When Sarah felt Cal's mouth cover the tip of her breast she drew in a swift breath and nearly jumped off the bed. He laughed and suckled as he moved his other hand between her thighs. "Open for me, darlin'." He gasped painfully. Sarah pulled her legs apart and felt his fingers smooth over her stomach, glide through the nest of curls, and carefully find the place, and for the first time, she realized, she felt a lover's touch. His strong fingers stroked slowly, at first, and then firmly and rapidly. Her lips fell apart and she arched her back to push farther into his hand.
"Is this better?" he asked thickly.
"Yes . . . feels . . . wonderful," Sarah clutched his shoulders and breathed against his ear. Roughly formed words tumbled from her lips in a broken stream between his tender kisses.
Waves of pleasure rolled higher and faster. Sarah looked up into Cal's face when she felt the explosive release, moaning his name as she rode on a cloud of warmth and contentment. And shock. She'd never dreamed such intimacy could exist between a man and woman.
Cal drank in the wonder reflected from her eyes, and then he groaned and turned away from her.
Sarah knew he hadn't gone to the same place she'd been.
"What about . . . what about you?" she whispered.
"I'll be fine." Tonight was for you, he thought. "Go to sleep now." His words sounded forced and painful.
Sarah kissed the back of his neck and rolled over, and she was asleep in minutes.
Cal remained awake, trying not to think about the fact that his sex was as hard as the rock he'd removed from Sarah's drawers. He listened to her deep, even breathing, blissfully unaware of the torture he endured.
* * *
When Sarah woke the next morning Cal was already gone, but his warm, masculine, lye soap and saddle leather scent lingered on the bedclothes. She lifted her head, and it felt like a company of barn-raisers was hammering inside, to the beat of the old clock ticking down the hall. She dragged herself out of the soft feather bed, and reached to pour clean water from the pitcher on the nightstand.
Someone had thoughtfully placed fresh towels and a new bar of store-bought soap next to the washbowl. She cupped her hands and scooped water. Then she dipped her face repeatedly into the pool she held in her palms. She stood still for a moment, waiting for the throbbing in her head and the aching in her shoulder to subside.
It didn't. She remembered the pleasure she had taken with wild abandon the previous night, and she blushed. Closing her eyes she moved her hands across her breasts, mocking the feel of Cal's fingers.
Then she sighed heavily and drew her thoughts back the present. She wondered about who might have hit her with the rock. If the Eastons had enemies Cal had not mentioned them.
Sarah floated down the stairs to Mrs. Easton's room, where she dressed, taking care not to disturb the bandage wrapped around her shoulder. She sighed and headed for the kitchen. When she entered Ned Kingman was finishing breakfast with Emily and Mrs. Easton.
"Morning Ned." Sarah slumped into her chair.
"You all right Miss Sarah?" He lifted his coffee cup.
"I'll be fine," she nodded. "Where's Cal?"
"Out. He went early to track them that attacked you yesterday. When he came back, he said he followed the trail to the creek. Two men on horses," Ned explained between slugs of his coffee. "But then they crossed, and Cal says the trail went cold the other side." Ned's voice ebbed. "He and a few ate, loaded up, and went back out again."
Sarah felt better. She cleared the plates and excused herself to the kitchen. She and Emily spent the rest of the morning cleaning the house and caring for Mrs. Easton.
* * *
Cal strode in for dinner after his usual clean up in the barn. Ned had taken him up on an invite to join them. He sat in Roy's chair, as Roy hadn't yet returned from his trip to the mining camp.
Cal smiled warmly Sarah. "You know how to shoot?" He pulled out his chair and slid into his seat.
Sarah hoped Emily and Ned didn't notice her flush. "You mean rifles? No, I-I don't." Sarah passed the plates.
He arched one eyebrow seriously. "I'll be teaching you. After supper", he ordered. "Ned will take care of things here. You'll learn how to load and shoot." Cal took a bite of biscuit. "It's easy, and a woman living here ought to know how." He was silent while they ate but he stretched his leg under the table to brush possessively against Sarah's ankle.
After he cleared the table, Cal ordered Ned to do the dishes. Then he went out to the hall and lifted two rifles from where they rested on oak wall pegs. Sarah followed, and he guided her to a clearing behind the barn.
Then Cal lined up empty food tins, placing them on tree stumps to use as targets. "This one's the Winchester repeater I got for my birthday. I'll always leave it at the house for Ned, and you," he continued. "Watch and learn how to load it."
Cal emptied the chamber and reloaded, then pulled the rifle up. He fired at the cans, and he hit every one of them. The sound of the gunshots was still ringing in Sarah's ears when Cal slowly lowered the rifle, emptied it, and handed it to her. He set up more cans as targets and walked back to stand by her side. "Load it."
Sarah pushed the ammo in the way she'd seen Cal do it and brought the stock up to her shoulder. Cal moved behind her and supported her arm. "Is this right?" she asked.
"Not bad." His lips floated inches from her ear. He could smell, almost taste, the honeysuckle-scented soap on her skin. Her hair brushed softly against his cheek, stoking a smoldering longing in him. The woman was driving him into the corral without even trying, he thought. "Use the sight on top to aim at the target." He leaned in closer and she felt herself stiffen. "Relax. But stay still . . . squeeze the
trigger using a smooth motion." He murmured as he glanced at the delicate curve where womanly neck met shoulder, a place he happened to consider the most exquisite on a female body. The fading light tumbled bronze hues across her hair, and the sight had him thinking about kissing her again. He cursed silently and forced his mind back to the task before him.
Sarah slowly pulled back the trigger and the rifle fired. "Oh!" She gasped and stumbled backwards. "It pushed me."
"That's the kick. You'll get used to that. You missed high so try a bit lower next time. And hold your breath when you pull the trigger." He stepped back and put his hands firmly to her waist to steady her.
Sarah took aim again and this time she hit her target. "I did it! I hit it!" She smiled and laughed.
"Sure did!" Cal's pride gushed. He couldn't deny it; her flashing green eyes affected him in a way that wore down the toughest resistance.
She put down the rifle and ran to pick up the target. She surveyed the damage from her shot. A winning smile lit on her face, and she displayed her trophy. Then she walked back to him, turned, and pulled the rifle back up. She aimed and slowly fired off three more shots. Two of the three hit their mark.
"You're a natural," he boasted. "With practice you'll aim and shoot faster." He paused and thought for a moment. "Tomorrow I'll bring out the shotgun." He was genuinely impressed with her skill. She had strong arms and steady nerves for a woman. It figured, as she came from working a farm.
After a few more rounds, they escaped to the cool shadow of the barn, where Cal showed her how to clean and oil the weapon. Sarah liked this quiet time. "Thank you for teaching me. I don't know when I'd have need of it, but target practice is fun."
Cal frowned. Those who were prepared to defend themselves survived, and he was determined to prepare Sarah. But he hoped she'd never have to face danger alone.
Chapter 15
Sarah put hands to caring for Mrs. Easton, drawing into a busy fog of activity. Cal's presence had grown awkward -- warm and anxious. Sarah wanted to believe she could be his woman, but he knew little about her – and what he didn't know could only hurt her cause. Surely there were other women for him. Roy had even mentioned one in her presence.
After supper Sarah sat quietly with Cal, Mrs. Easton, and Emily in the parlor. Sitting as far from Cal as possible she opened a book to read to Mama.
But Cal had his own plans. He threw a blanket gaze across the room, trapping her under with a broad smile. "I need to pick up some hardware in town tomorrow. Would you and Emily like to tag along? Ned can stay with Mama."
Emily quickly answered for both of them.
"Oh! Yessiree Mr. Easton!"
Sarah hedged. "OK."
"Happy to hear it." Cal beamed.
"Yes, that's good," nodded Emily.
Emily yawned and stretched her arms high above her head. "Oh my, I'm so tired. I need my bed." She rose and hastily skipped from the room before Sarah could conjure up a reason to stop her.
Sarah blurted, "I'm tired, too. I'll take Mama and join Emily."
Cal jumped to his feet and closed the space between them in two long strides. He took Sarah's arm with authority and hauled her up against him. He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Good night, Sarah."
Sarah flushed, took a deep, unsteady breath and one step back. "Good night, Cal." Her voice wavered, and she became increasingly unglued under his gaze. How could a man so hard have a kiss so soft?
He pulled her back closer and laughed hoarsely. "Don't you worry. I intend to court you properly." He brushed his lips across her forehead. "Starting tonight." He breathed deeply and kissed her earlobe playfully.
Cal Easton had decided to be a gentleman, and he'd ride from here to Texas to do it. Winning Sarah's heart was far too important to risk a misstep. So he bent down and kissed her once more, this time on her lips, lingering and touching the corner of her mouth tenderly with his tongue. Then he pulled away and sighed. He turned to push his mama's chair into the hall. Sarah, still recovering from the kiss, followed slowly, her hips swaying and her heart singing.
* * *
Sarah, Cal and Emily set out for town. The trip to Wounded Colt brought images of her first ride through town atop the white pony. Sarah recalled the moment when Ned first wrote on the slate, when she fully realized that she was to be sold like a plow at a farm auction. She'd lost more faith in the world that day, and only now was it being restored.
People slowed and gawked as the wagon rolled down Main Street. Cal and Sarah and Emily were an unlikely trio: Two orphaned waifs sat shoulder-to-shoulder with the wealthiest rancher this side of the territory. Sarah saw men who'd made bids on her pony ride day. Now when she looked at them they glanced away after quickly nodding to Cal .
The team halted at Watkins store; Cal fastened the reins to the hitching post and helped Sarah and Emily down to the street. They mounted the plank walk and went along to Jake Farrel's. A group of women whispered and cast sideways glances as they passed. Cal gritted his teeth and touched the brim of his hat in greeting, and he took Sarah's hand and settled it into the crook of his right arm. Emily's hand was clutched in his left.
When they entered the blacksmith shop, Jake smiled at Sarah, and to her relief, the man acted as if he were meeting her for the first time. Timidly he took her small hand, and he bowed slightly. Emily's hand got a shake too. Farrel had a natural way of making them feel like ladies.
"Heard you're taking care of Cal's mama."
"Yes, sir. We both work for the Eastons." Sarah relaxed as she spoke. He smiled and excused himself to fetch Cal's order.
Just as they were leaving Jake's place Sheriff Aiken spied them from across the street. Cal pretended not to see him coming, and he tried to turn the girls and swiftly glide away, but Aiken's path met theirs, and the sheriff struck a dominant stance to block their progress.
"Morning Cal, morning ladies." Aiken touched his hat brim. Emily squinted at the reflection from the high polish on his sheriff's badge.
Aiken's gaze was unabashedly fixed on Sarah. "So you found yourself a job," he drawled. As he smiled deep lines etched into leathery skin around his mouth. "When I steered you Lola's way I figured she'd give you the kitchen duty seein' as she'd just lost her cook. If I'd known she'd have other ideas --"
"I know you had my best interests in mind, Mr. Aiken." Sarah blushed, and her eyes flickered down to her feet; his comment was as welcome as a polecat at a picnic.
Cal rolled his eyes and flashed Aiken a look of disdain, and, resetting Sarah's hand on his right arm, he took Emily's hand with his left and made to step forward, but then Aiken's hand flew up to halt them.
"Doctor Rutherford reported how as he treated Miss Anders after the terrible attack on her at your ranch a couple days back," he fired off in an accusing tone. "I'll need to be investigatin'." He set his hands to his hips. "Miss Anders, I hope you been well and feel safe staying out in rough country with rough men like the Eastons and their hands about." He whinnied, "Why, if you need—"
"We take care of our own." Cal ripped out his words. "If you tended to sheriffin' business, instead of letting Dullen lead you like a calf following its mama's tit, I reckon we'd all be better off around here." Cal felt a powerful urge to lift his fist and whack Aiken straight into next week. Instead, he locked an arm possessively around Sarah's waist. His mouth formed a tight line.
"Oh yes, we're fine at the ranch, thank you," muttered Sarah.
Sheriff Aiken had barely flinched at Cal's remark. "Well, all the same, I'll be out tomorrow to look the place over, an' check the area where you were attacked. Maybe find somethin'. Lots of folks in Wounded Colt are worried about the crimes, in fact so set to fussin' that Mr. Dullen sent for a detective clear from Denver. He'll be here any day to catch those outlaws." Aiken touched the brim of his dirty hat again. "Well, I won't keep you folks any longer. See you tomorrow." He turned and strode purposefully back toward the jail.
Cal set his jaw. "Dullen's detective can eat steer chi
ps," he muttered, and he guided the ladies across the street to Watkin's general store.
As they entered the shop Sarah breathed deeply to partake of the perfumes of leather, tobacco, molasses, and spices. Cal saw Emily spying the glass jars filled with candy and he grinned, remembering his trips to the store with his own father when he was a boy.
"Go ahead Em, pick one."
Miners lingered at the counter while Earl Watkins and his son Edward chatted. It was the usual banter, part business and part male gossip. Thad Underwood and his brother, Bill, were looking through a stack of ready-made shirts. Thad spied Sarah. He snickered, nudged Bill and moved closer to her.
"Easton bought the cow and her sister," Thad whispered. He regarded Sarah with open amusement and hissed, "So, ya' ridin' both Eastons? Or is yer sister for Roy?"
"Yah, we got a bone to pick wid Cal. He didn't bring ya' back for the rest of us," quipped Bill Underwood.
Sarah's face was crimson and she was shaking. Bile rose in her throat as she pushed Emily back to squarely face Thad.
Before she realized what she'd done her fist slammed into the side of Thad's face. Just as swiftly she felt someone pull her away. Thad heaved a surprised grunt and fell to the floor in a heap.
At the same time that Sarah was landing her punch Emily scrambled up Bill Underwood's back, and her little fists began pounding him furiously about the head. The men at the counter whistled and hooted.
Bill was bucking like a colt trying to escape a swarm of bees. Thad angrily picked himself up from the floor, expecting to face Sarah. Instead he fell again when Cal swung a jaw-crushing blow. Smartly, the man stayed down. Only a fool carried the notion of winning a match against big Cal Easton.
Money began to change hands at the counter as men placed bets on how long Emily could ride on bucking Bill. When one man grabbed a pair of spurs from a peg and tried to pass them to Emily, store owner Earl Watkins decided it was time to end it. Rushing from behind the counter he hauled kicking Emily off her target. The men began to taunt "Buckin' Bill". Then arguments broke out about who'd won the contest.