“You take my room,” he said. “I’ll check with the clerk about another one for me.”
She trailed her fingers from his neck to the back of his head, forcing him to look down at her bare thigh. When he came to a dead stop, she decided he needed another hint.
“You can put the thought of separate beds out of your head right now,” she replied. “I want us to be married, Ethan. Tonight and always.”
His eyes lingered on her face, then burned as bright as embers turning into full flames. “I think that can be arranged, Mrs. Trent.”
He carried her across the room, set her on his bed and sat down next to her. The scent of his pipe tobacco filled her nose as he smiled.
She had expected him to pounce on her, but instead he squeezed her hand. “We’re not going to hurry anything,” he said. “God knows I want to, but we only get one first time.”
“Except this is the second,” she said.
His expression turned somber as he cradled her hand in both of his. “Rainbow Falls was a beautiful night, but things got muddled at the end. Tonight, I want you to know how much I love you, right from the start.”
“I do,” she said. “I love you, too.”
Her husband raised their entwined fingers, so that their hands made a shadow across her breasts.
“This time we’re making promises,” he said. “I’ll never leave you nor forsake you. I’ll never give you cause to doubt my love. I’ll take care of you and our children—including the one you’re carrying now—from this day on, until death us do part.”
Putting her palm on top of his knuckles, she looked into his eyes. “I promise you, Ethan, that I’ll give you comfort every day and every night. I’ll feed you cookies and scratch your back. I’ll give you babies, too, as many as you want. I believe in you. I trust you, and I couldn’t be happier than I am right now.”
With their gazes joined and void of secrets, he curved his mouth into a smile. “It’s time to kiss the bride.”
Pulling her close, he matched his mouth to hers in an act of bold possession. Jayne flashed back to their first wedding kiss, the one on the knoll that had been sweet and sincere. A seed had been planted that day, and it was about to burst into full bloom—a red rose, a ripening garden, endless meadows of rippling grass.
Wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck, she savored the fullness of his desire for her and her desire for him. She wanted the moment to last forever, but Ethan broke it off with a husky whisper. “I’m going to turn the lamp down a bit.”
An aching heat pulsed through her veins as he walked to the dresser, dimmed the light and then faced her. His gaze lingered on her ankles, her knees, then upward to her thighs and breasts. As if a thread were pulling them together, he walked back to the bed, where he sat down and tugged off his boots. They hit the floor with two soft thuds, then he twisted on his hips, pinned her against the pillows and kissed her.
Tonight he wasn’t asking for anything. He was telling her with his tongue exactly what he intended to take. He was staking his claim on her body, to mark this moment for all time, for all the world to know that they were a couple.
Filled with excitement, Jayne decided to do the exact same thing. Breaking the kiss, she put her hand on his chest and pushed him back. “Get undressed,” she ordered.
Ethan gave a throaty chuckle. “I’ll be damned. You’re just as bossy in bed as you are everywhere else. I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I am.”
Jayne arched an eyebrow. “Are you going to argue with me?”
“Hell, no. This is one time I don’t mind being told what to do.”
After pushing off the bed, he squared himself in front of her, raised his hand to the opposite wrist, and oh-so-slowly unbuttoned the cuff. When he took even longer to undo the second sleeve, Jayne pushed to her knees and went to work on the buttons running down his torso.
“By the time you finish with that shirt, I’ll have gray hair,” she complained.
Ethan cupped her bottom and pulled her close, matching their hips. “Are you in a hurry?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Nope. I intend to take my time.”
Moving like a lazy river, he stepped back and rolled the shirt off his shoulders and hung it on the bedpost. His belt came next, then the dungarees and everything else.
She nearly lost her breath at the sight of him in all his glory. The muscles in his torso were tight and hard, his waist narrow, his thighs strong and close. He was flesh and bone, a man who could bleed and cry, but he also knew how to love and fight. Her husband would do anything to protect her. Anything to nurture and love their children.
His eyes locked on to hers with an intensity that pierced her soul. Still on her knees, she pulled her nightgown over her head and flung it on top of his shirt. Taking his hands in hers, she scooted forward on her knees so that her breasts grazed his flat chest and her smooth thighs were flush against his hairy ones.
“Are you still intending to take all night?” she asked, wiggling her hips to tell him what she wanted.
His male flesh stirred against her belly. “Maybe just half the night. Old Faithful is getting more ornery by the minute.”
“Who?”
When Ethan gave a meaningful glance to his nether region, Jayne burst out laughing, then nuzzled his ear. “I think he’s waited long enough. I know I have.”
Before Ethan could reply, she trailed her lips down his chest, kissed the coppery discs of his flat nipples, and followed a line of hair down his belly, tasting his skin and breathing in his scent.
When she reached the triangle of brown hair between his legs, he sucked in a breath and groaned. If she had her way, they weren’t going to endure this torment for half the night or even five more minutes. Sliding to her bottom, she took his heavy flesh in both hands, caressed and stroked him, and then looked up at his face.
He had closed his eyes, and his chest was shuddering with the effort to breathe evenly. A lump rose in her throat. She’d never felt so triumphant and aware of her power as a woman. Joyous and awed, she followed her instincts and explored the new territory of her husband’s body—all of it—with deep kisses.
“Holy hell!” he cried. “I’ve never—”
Before she knew it, she was on her back and Ethan was suckling her breasts and driving her crazy with his hands. In an instant she went from being a woman in control to one who didn’t want to be. Tangling their tongues and limbs, they braided their bodies into a single strand, forever erasing the line between giving love and receiving it.
In its own way, this odd dance made perfect sense, but Jayne was long past thinking about it. She and Ethan were creating a new world with its own language of touch—a place where asking was no longer necessary and telling wasn’t the least bit selfish. She belonged to this man and he belonged to her.
With a soul-deep moan, he filled her body and made her his wife. With tears of happiness, she welcomed him home with pleasure pulsing through her body and joy brimming in her soul. Again and again, her husband journeyed into her, filling her with heat and hope and love, until he shattered in her arms, and it was…good.
Chapter Seventeen
F ive days had passed since Ethan had first made love to his wife, and each morning he’d woken up with her warm feet tucked against his calves. Staying in town hadn’t been all bad. He had been able to give Jayne a honeymoon, complete with suppers in the hotel restaurant and lazy days in bed.
With the morning sun streaming across his shoulders, he tucked his arms more securely around his wife. Smiling in her sleep, she rested her hand on his chest, displaying the silver-and-turquoise wedding band he’d given her last night. After supper he’d slipped it on her finger and given her the larger one to slip on his. Just as he’d expected, one thing had led to another and they’d skipped dessert…sort of.
Ethan grinned at the thought of last night’s lovemaking. He had been blinded by the sun and lost in the stars all at once. At the telling moment whe
n all conscious thought was lost to him, and only instinct and wanting were left, he had called her name, again and again, until his body exploded and the storm faded into gentle darkness. Spent and happy, he’d started to untangle himself, but she had stopped him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“My name.”
Considering her worries over Laura, it was natural that she’d have doubts. He had pushed up on one elbow and tipped her chin, putting them eye to eye. “Do you remember all those nights I slept on the floor?”
“Of course.”
“I’m going to let you in on a secret,” he had said. “I did a lot of imagining between dusk and dawn, and making love with you is everything I dreamed it would be and more. I’ve never felt this way in my life.”
In no way was the confession a disservice to his first wife. Because he had loved Laura so well, his senses were keener, his expectations higher. Jayne had taken him back to some of the best times of his life and then to a place that belonged only to them.
Wanting to drive the point home, he’d put on his most bodacious smile. “I mean it, Jayne. You make me crazy.”
She blushed. “Really?”
“Most definitely.” He cocked a grin. “Now it’s your turn to tell me I’m ten times the man Hank Dawson was. Only you don’t have to, because I already know it.”
“Try a thousand times the man…”
“Try a million.”
“Two million.”
With the last declaration still on his lips, she had pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. For the fun of it, he had let her pin him to the bed, where he’d proved again how patient he could be.
Now, glancing down at her relaxed face, he considered kissing her awake, but he decided to wait. After all, she was with child and she needed her rest. Instead he thought about the changes he wanted to make to the ranch.
After he hired a crew and finished the barn, he’d draw up plans for a four-bedroom house. Someday he’d teach his sons how to ride and his daughters how to dance. He and Jayne would grow old together. They’d watch their grandchildren ride ponies and eat birthday cake, and he’d cherish every minute of every day.
It all seemed too good to be true. Ethan shivered in spite of the morning sun warming the sheets.
As usual, this afternoon they’d check with Handley to see if he had heard from Chief Roberts. Maybe LeFarge had been caught. The thought gave him hope, and he let his mind wander to the day ahead of them. His most pressing need was finding a cow and buying a dozen chickens. Soon there would be milk for his wife and child, eggs for breakfast and fried chicken for Sunday dinner.
Ethan closed his eyes and drifted from one pleasant dream to another. He hadn’t been this happy in years.
Sheriff Handley slapped a telegram down on his desk. “Roberts says your story is true, Mrs. Trent, but I expect you to stay nearby.”
Ethan squeezed his wife’s hand to stop himself from mouthing off to Handley. “You know where we live, Sheriff.”
“So does LeFarge.” Handley rocked back in his squeaky chair. “There’s news about him. A bank teller in Los Angeles was murdered about ten days ago. It might have been a simple robbery, but a ticket clerk at the train station saw a man fitting LeFarge’s description. Unfortunately he couldn’t remember where the man was headed. He could be anywhere by now. San Francisco, Mexico, even here.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “What else do you know?”
“Not much, just that the federal authorities are doing their best, but it’s a big country with lots of places to hide.” He stared at Jayne. “If I were you, ma’am, I’d be very careful. You’re a sitting duck on that ranch.”
The sheriff had a point. Situated in a valley bordered by mountains and pine forest, the cabin offered no protection. LeFarge could lurk for days, watching them from the hillside, and they would never know it. “We’ll think about it,” Ethan said.
Jayne shook her head. “There’s nothing to think about. I won’t let that awful man rule my life. If he robbed that bank, he could be in Alaska for all we know.”
Handley rocked back in his chair. “I hope you’re right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. The bank clerk was shot in the back. He didn’t know what hit him.”
Fear gnawed at Ethan’s ribs like a trapped animal. As he pushed to his feet, Jayne rose with him. “We’ll be in touch,” he said, praying their next visit to town would bring word that LeFarge was locked up or dead—preferably dead.
Gripping Jayne’s hand, he guided her out the door and down the boardwalk. When he had first laid eyes on her, he’d been afraid to touch her. Now he was afraid to let go of her hand. His eyes darted from one street corner to another, making note of strangers and narrow alleys.
LeFarge could be anywhere. Watching. Waiting. Planning his revenge. Ethan felt sicker by the minute. When they reached the store, he pushed through the door first and surveyed the aisles. Seeing no one, he hauled Jayne off the street and into the safety of the shop.
She stumbled against him. “Ethan! I’m not a mule!”
He grunted an apology, but he knew how her mind worked. That comment about LeFarge being in Alaska said it all. She had turned a wish into reality, and the determined tilt of her chin told him she was going to be stubborn about it.
He handed a list of things they needed to Mrs. Wingate and listened to the women chat while the clerk assembled their order. Still on guard, he walked to the front window and peered through the glass. A train had just arrived and the boardwalk was crowded with strangers. As he studied the unfamiliar faces, his wife’s cheerful voice drifted to his ears.
“The baby’s due in November,” she said shyly. “Do you think this flannel will be warm enough?”
Ethan’s shoulders rippled with tension. He didn’t want anyone to know she was expecting a baby, not until LeFarge was out of the picture. He glanced over his shoulder just as Mrs. Wingate unwrapped a length of yellow flannel.
“Three of my children were winter babies,” she said cheerfully. “This will be perfect. Where are you from, dear?”
“Kentucky.”
The information was too close to the truth for Ethan’s comfort. Turning abruptly, he paced down the aisle. “Jayne—”
“Do you have family back home?” Mrs. Wingate asked.
“No. My mother passed away a year ago. I miss her every single day.”
Ethan gave her hand a hard squeeze. “I almost forgot. I need to get to the lumber mill before it closes.” It was a made-up excuse, but he had to shut her up.
“Couldn’t we go tomorrow?”
Ignoring the question, he turned to Mrs. Wingate. “I’ll pick up the order in the morning. How’s that?”
The older woman scowled down her nose. “That’s fine by me, Mr. Trent, but your wife might have questions only a woman can answer. I was about to ask her to stay for tea. She has special needs, you know.”
Of course he knew that, but mostly she needed to stay safe. “That’s very nice, but we can’t stay,” he replied pleasantly. “Maybe another time.”
The clerk turned to Jayne. “If you have questions, dear, visit me alone and we’ll talk.”
Jayne thanked the older woman and followed him out the door. As soon as they reached the boardwalk, she grabbed his sleeve. “Ethan, what’s the matter?”
“Everything,” he growled.
“It’s LeFarge, isn’t it?”
“It’s more than that.” He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her or seeing the baby come to harm. He had to make her understand that the outlaw wasn’t in Alaska and that he posed a real threat. He went straight for her motherly instincts.
“You shouldn’t tell anyone about the baby,” he said.
“Why not?”
“The less people know about us, the better.” His dry throat turned his voice into a buzz saw. “I want to keep this marriage as quiet as possible.”
“I had no idea you felt that way.�
��
“Well, I do.”
“Then maybe I should stay in town,” she said in a shaky voice.
He let out a relieved sigh. She finally understood the danger, and so he paused to weigh the option of staying in Midas a few more days. It wasn’t a clear-cut choice. The town offered the protection of more people and access to Handley and a telegraph, but the ranch was their home and he had a family to support. “We can’t stay in town,” he finally answered.
“I didn’t say we. I said me.”
He stopped short in the middle of the boardwalk. “What does that mean?”
Tears filled her eyes and she pressed her lips into a tight line. A scene on the busiest street in Midas was the last thing they needed, so Ethan hooked his arm around her waist and guided her to the hotel. They hurried through the lobby and up to their room, where he closed the door and turned the lock.
As he faced his wife, he saw that she was struggling with something vast and personal. He didn’t know what to say, so he waited as she squared her shoulders, gathering her dignity as if she were putting on a pair of fancy gloves.
Raising her chin, she said, “I don’t understand. Did I say something to embarrass you?”
“You couldn’t embarrass me if you tried.” He was proud of her courage, the spunk that made her strong.
“Then why did you tell me not to talk about the baby? Is it because of Hank? Are you ashamed—”
“God, no! I don’t give a hoot about Dawson. I love you more than I can say. I’d die for you.”
“But you dragged me out of the store!”
His ribs nearly broke apart. Couldn’t she feel the fear, the threat? Didn’t she remember how much it hurt to lose someone you loved?
Bracing her elbows against her waist, she started to twist the wedding band off her finger. Understanding dawned on him. Not once in her life had a decent man given her shelter or love. While he saw secrecy as a way of keeping her safe, she saw it as a sign of disgrace because of that damn fool Dawson and her mother’s cheat of a husband.
He wrapped his hand around her shaking fingers and pressed the ring back into place. “Don’t take it off, Jayne. Not ever. This baby is mine, and I’m proud to claim you as my wife.”
West of Heaven Page 19
