The Bride Price
Page 24
Philip came thundering up on King Tut and Asa arrived on foot not far behind.
“Is he all right?”
“Don’t move him. Something might be broken.”
Maggie was oblivious to both men. Fear had her by the throat. She stroked Wyatt’s hair away from his face and patted his cheek but his eyes remained closed and the horrible shaking continued. Distraught, she put her ear to his chest. His heart beat strong and sure. Then she heard the other sound, a low rumble rising from deep within his chest.
She jerked her head up and gaped. “You’re laughing! You’re not hurt at all!”
She sat back on her heels. She was so furious the top of her head felt as though it were about to blow off. Wyatt writhed on the ground, shaking, unable to speak. Finally, catching the breath that had been knocked out of him, his silent mirth erupted in full-bodied laughter.
Rich guffaws rumbled from his chest, and tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes. Maggie ground her teeth.
After a while, his laughter subsided and he sat up. Wiping his streaming eyes with the back of his hand, he gasped, “Oh, man, that was some ride.” Still chuckling, he lowered his hand and grinned at Maggie. “Did you see Hot Streak take that fence?”
“You...you louse,” she snarled. “You despicable, sorry, misbegotten, low-down son of a lop-eared jackass!”
Both of Wyatt’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Is something wrong?”
That was too much. She drew back her hand and slapped his face with all her might—so hard her hand stung and his head snapped to the side. Then she burst into tears, jumped to her feet and bolted for the house.
She didn’t stop running until she reached her room and fell facedown across the bed, sobbing.
That was how Asa found her ten minutes later.
“Here now, child, don’t carry on so.” He sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms, and as she burrowed her face against his chest he held her close and stroked the back of her head. “It isn’t the end of the world, you know. Hush up that crying now,” he ordered with gruff tenderness.
“I can’t,” she wailed. “I...I don’t even kn-know why I’m cr-crying. Or...or why I’m s-so upset.”
“Ah, well, that’s easy. You’re in love.”
The words zinged straight to Maggie’s heart like an arrow shot from a bow. She went utterly still in Asa’s arms.
“Well now,” Asa said with satisfaction, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “At least you have the good sense not to deny it.” He stroked her back and rubbed his chin against the top of her hair. “Don’t you see, child? You watched the man you love take a terrible risk, and it ended in a fall. The danged fool could have killed himself or been severely injured. It’s perfectly natural for you to be upset.”
Pushing free of his embrace, Maggie stared at her grandfather. Her heart contracted painfully and her eyes widened. Sweet Mary and Joseph. He was right. She loved Wyatt.
When she had seen him go flying over that horse’s head, she had experienced fear like nothing she had ever known. In that split second when she’d thought that he might die she had wondered how she could possibly go on without him. Her heart had felt as though it had been cleaved in two.
“Now maybe you can understand your husband a little better,” Asa said, giving her a pointed look.
She sucked in a sharp breath and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Dear Lord,” she gasped against her palm. Was this what Wyatt went through every time she tried something dangerous? Did he feel this suffocating fear? This horrible icy sensation in the pit of his stomach? This utter helplessness?
Maggie closed her eyes and groaned. “No wonder he gets so upset with me.”
“Exactly.”
Her eyes popped open. “How could this have happened? I tried so hard not to love him. I don’t want to love him.”
Asa’s mouth quirked at the petulant wail. “Ah, Maggie girl, there’s no escape from the silken ties of love. Not if you’ve got a heart.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “And you, child, have the biggest heart of anyone I know.
“Don’t fight it, Maggie. Enjoy it. Love doesn’t have to hurt. It can be the most wonderful adventure you’ll ever have if you’ll just give it a chance.”
Looking into those wise old eyes, Maggie’s heart expanded with the first stirrings of hope. Emotion welled up inside her, creating a painful pressure in her chest and flooding her with a deep yearning she was powerless to ignore. Her eyes grew moist, and she placed her hand over Asa’s and held it against her cheek. “I...I want to, but...I’m not sure I know how.”
“You can start by finding that husband of yours and telling him what you feel,” Asa pronounced gruffly.
“But—”
“No buts. Just do it.” Standing abruptly, he pulled her to her feet, pointed her toward the door and gave her a little shove. A few feet away Maggie hesitated and shot him an anxious glance over her shoulder. “Go. Go,” Asa growled.
Maggie went.
She found Wyatt in the barn giving Hot Streak a currying. Maggie approached the stall with trepidation. She hadn’t felt this unsure of herself since she was fourteen, when she had entered Asa’s magnificent home for the first time, clutching her meager belongings and wondering how she would ever fit in.
Wyatt spotted her, and the brush stilled against Hot Streak’s flank. He didn’t speak, but merely watched her over the stallion’s back as she entered the stall. He looked so stern and unyielding, she almost lost her courage and turned around to flee. The stallion shamelessly nudged her for attention, and she obliged by scratching his forehead.
“You okay now?” Wyatt asked and resumed stroking the brush over the stallion’s sleek hindquarter.
“Yes.” Maggie kept her gaze fixed on Hot Streak. “I, uh...I’m sorry I hit you.”
“Um.”
She waited, but it was soon apparent the noncommittal reply was all she was going to get out of him. He went on with his task, running the brush over the Arabian’s back with long, rhythmic strokes.
Maggie sighed. He wasn’t making this easy for her. “I learned something today,” she murmured after a lengthy silence. She forced herself to look at him, and when their gazes met, Wyatt raised one eyebrow.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“That...” Maggie paused and licked her lips. “Well...that the heart seems to have a mind of its own.”
The brush stilled and his eyes flashed to hers, but he merely waited.
“When...when you, uh...care about someone, you want to keep them safe from harm and close by your side. It’s, uh, instinctive, I guess.”
“What’re you saying, Maggie?”
She looked into that beloved face, so taut with hope, and her heart fluttered. Set free at last, love welled up inside her in a hot tide, overflowing her heart, warming her, filling her with a pleasure so sweet it was almost pain. Tears filled her eyes, and her chin quivered. Emotions clogged her throat, but she forced herself to speak around the aching tightness. “I love you, Wyatt.”
He stilled, but something flared in his silvery eyes, something so hot and intense it took her breath away.
Never taking his gaze from her, he tossed the brush over his shoulder. It hit the wall of the next stall with a loud clatter as he stalked around the horse’s rear. Without breaking stride, he swept her up in his arms, kicked open the half door and carried her from the stall and into an empty one across the aisle.
Maggie’s exultant laugh rang out as he tossed her onto the pile of fresh straw and followed her down. The sound became a moan of pleasure as his mouth closed over hers in a rapacious kiss that sent her temperature soaring.
“Say it again,” he demanded, when they were forced to come up for air.
Laughing, Maggie clutched his hair with both hands and brought his head down for another hard quick kiss. “I love you,” she said, and brought his head down again. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” she vowed over and over between lusty, open-mouth
ed kisses.
When she finally released him, he raised up on one arm and looked down at her. His face was flushed with passion and his eyes burned. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” he vowed in a raspy growl. “Never.”
Then they were rolling together, frantic and wild. Clothes were discarded in manic haste, and soon there was only warm skin to warm skin. There was no need or desire for foreplay. Their emotions were too high, their yearning for each other too great. Their coming together was swift and urgent and so beautiful their hearts soared as one. There, in the quiet barn, with the fecund smells of animals and straw all around them, they loved each other with a depth of emotion that melded their souls.
Neither was conscious of the prickly straw poking their flesh nor the December chill of the barn. For long, heady moments the only sounds were the creaking of the loose loft door overhead, the contented munching of the horses in their stalls and the low moans and sighs of the entwined lovers.
With emotions so high fulfillment came quickly, and soon their cries of joy echoed through the cavernous barn. Then there was only their stertorous breathing and the hush of contentment.
Exhausted, utterly replete, they lay entwined for a long time, both loath to relinquish the wonderful closeness. Absently Maggie stroked Wyatt’s sweat-slicked back and gazed through half-opened eyes at the massive beams high overhead, saturated with a feeling of joy and peace and perfect freedom. What a fool she had been to let her mother’s experience deprive her of this happiness for so long. It hadn’t been love that had ruined Colleen Muldoon’s life, but loving the wrong man.
She closed her eyes and tightened her arms around Wyatt, smiling against his shoulder.
“What?” he mumbled sleepily.
Maggie chuckled and nipped his earlobe, and Wyatt grunted. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking. This loving and being loved really isn’t so bad after all.”
* * * * *
ISBN: 978-1-4592-8816-4
The Bride Price
Copyright © 1995 by Virginia Gray
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Copyright