Rocky Mountain Rose (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 3)

by Lee Savino

  She caught her breath. Was he going to punish her again? Her body was sore, the ache in her behind and her lady parts had never felt so sensitive, even though the cold water felt good. When Lyle came back from his saddlebags, she still hadn’t moved.

  “Down on the blanket, Rose.” He pointed, all business. She couldn’t keep a forlorn look off her face. After all they’d shared, was he going to hurt her for his pleasure?

  “I still ache, Lyle,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t force her.

  He drew in a breath as he realized why she hesitated. “Hey,” he caught her hand, “I would never hurt you. You’re sore today, and the salve will help.”

  She then saw the jar of ointment in his hand, and felt relief. As she started to kneel on the blanket, Lyle tugged her to look at him again.

  “I’m going to take care of you, Rose. Will you trust me?”

  She nodded, and went down to her hands and knees. It wasn’t until he bared her bottom to gently apply the cream that the truth hit home. She did trust him. The cool salve soothed her almost as much as her new husband’s touch. His large body shifted around her, so focused on her care. She could trust him, not only in this moment, but when he led her, fought for her, even when he disciplined her.

  “All done up top,” he said. “Spread your legs.”

  Her body obeyed before she realized what was happening. Fingers touched her, feather light, between her legs, and she almost snapped her knees shut on his hand.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shhh.” He ran his other hand over her back. “It’ll feel better.”

  Widening her stance again, she let her head sag down, tensing in anticipation. But Lyle’s fingers between her legs didn’t continue, though his other hand kept rubbing circles on her back.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked. “It’s a long ride, and I don’t want you in pain.”

  “No, Lyle.” She forced herself to relax. “I trust you. Don’t stop.”

  Gently, his fingers resumed smoothing the thick unguent over her lower lips.

  A moan started low in her throat and escaped her lips. Lyle’s fingers paused. “Does it hurt?”

  “No,” she whispered. “It feels good.”

  “Good.” His fingers started again, until she found herself rocking back onto his hand, trying to get more stimulation. Slick with ointment and her own juices, his fingers began to draw from her a second climax of the morning. “That’s it, darling. Reach for it. That’s my good girl.”

  A few seconds later, she stiffened and sighed as her orgasm crashed over her. Trembling with aftershocks, Rose let her torso fall to the blanket, enjoying the cool air on her haunches.

  Lyle left her to tidy up the camp, but all too soon he was back at her side.

  “This is the prettiest sight in the whole territory,” he said from behind her, and she started to scramble to cover herself.

  He helped her stand, a heated look on his handsome face. “I may rub you down every night, just to watch that again. You’re beautiful, Rose.”

  She accepted his help onto her horse, and for most of the day, she followed his lead through the hills. As the day wore on, she was grateful for the balm. The gelding was a smooth ride compared with a stallion, but as the hours wore on and they went through meadows and streams, over rock and rough grass, she knew she would’ve been in agony.

  Lyle’s great black horse seemed almost bored with the slower pace, but it obeyed its master. Lyle often looked back to smile at her. Rose didn’t know which she preferred, his grin or the sight of his tall, straight back, riding proudly on the stallion, cutting a handsome figure against the barren landscape.

  Late afternoon, Lyle slowed his stallion halfway up the hill. “See that peak?” He pointed to a mountain set forward from the range. “That feeds the river that goes past our land. Once we get settled, we can pan for gold, and when we find a seam, build a mine. There’s wealth here for us, Rose, I know it.”

  His excitement caught Rose, and she gave a tentative smile. She’d never imagined she’d have a life for herself outside of bars and seedy boarding houses.

  “We’ll be home by nightfall.”

  She nodded, unable to speak as his words hit her. Home.

  “Come.” Lyle clicked for the horses to move on. “I want to show you something.”

  As they crested the hilltop, she felt a little wary of the devilish grin on her husband’s face.

  Then her mount reached the top, and she gasped at the sight. Fields of wildflowers stretched out before them, a cascade of pink blossoms everywhere she looked. The beauty brought tears to her eyes.

  “Like it?” Lyle sounded so proud, as if he’d planted them all himself and waited five years to show her.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Come.” He held out his hand to her, waiting until she walked the gelding close to his stallion. The big black whinnied in displeasure but didn’t pull away, and she and Lyle rode hand in hand through the meadow.

  Halfway through, he stopped and swung off. He came around and helped her dismount, and they walked to a stone outcropping amid the flowers. Her eyes were on the flowers, but she noticed Lyle was watching her. Stooping, he plucked a bloom.

  “A rose for my Rose,” he said.

  She felt tears shimmering in her eyes. To hide it, she pulled his head down to hers. Their kiss started sweet and grew wild, until they sank down into the clover. Lyle lay back, pulling her over him. Her hands went to his trousers.

  He rose up, shaking his head. “It’s too soon. You’ll be sore.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, Rose. There’s plenty of time.” He kissed her softly and pulled her to her feet.

  The air filled with scent of crushed blossom as they rode from the valley.

  *

  Just before sunset, their trail dipped into a thick pine woods. Rose could hear the river nearby, and when they broke into a clearing, she saw the homestead set among the pines. In the dim light she could see the bright, new boards of the cabin and the small stable nearby. This was her new home, tucked in a dark, quiet, secret place, and she loved it at once.

  “Here we are.” Lyle grinned at her.

  They dismounted and Lyle tied the horses to the porch. After untying their packs, he pushed open the door and let Rose go into the cabin first. The place smelled of pine and freshly hewn boards.

  “My neighbor and I built it this spring, before I left to look for you.” Lye went straight to the hearth and started building a fire. Rose stood in the middle of the dark space and waited for the light so she could explore.

  A few spiders and mice had taken up residence in the corners, but would be easily swept away. The bed was a mere pallet on the floor near the hearth, though there was a table and two stools, and a lone wooden chair.

  “Watch that.” Lyle nodded to the fire. “I’ll get water and see to the horses.”

  Crouching, Rose found the old pile of kindling and fed the fire into a bigger blaze. When Lyle returned, she’d unpacked her bag, hanging her clothes over the solitary chair, and dug out the coffee pot and venison jerky from the saddlebags.

  Her husband paused in the doorway, leaning against the frame and wearing his usual devilish grin.

  “Nothing but jerky for dinner,” she said. “I found a pail, if you’ll show me where to get water...” She trailed off when she realized he hadn’t moved from the door. “What?”

  His smile widened. “Nothing. You’re just as pretty as a picture here. You already look like you belong.”

  She felt herself flush and put her back to him. She’d never been at a loss for words, and here she was, blushing like an innocent at the thought of making house with a man.

  “Hey.” Lyle came behind her and caught her around her waist. “I meant it as a compliment.”

  “I know you did,” she said, and went very still when he moved her hair to nuzzle her ear.

  “I’ll make fry cakes.” He kissed her neck and left her. Kn
ees weak, she leaned against the table for a few moments before she could help with dinner.

  As they ate their meager meal, Lyle told her his plans for the place. “We’ll spend the next few months readying for winter. My friends, the Donovans, will help us shore up our supplies, and we’ll go into town to stock up. I’ll help Donovan pasture his cattle; in return he’ll give us enough to last through the snow. Come spring, we’ll start a garden, and get right to panning for gold. Jesse said he’d come help, but he’s not come through on that promise before. I’m glad to have you.”

  Rose stayed very quiet, her worries weighing her down.

  She cleared the plates and served his coffee. He fell silent to drink it, but kept his eyes on her.

  “What are you looking at?”

  He set down his coffee cup, blue eyes bold on hers. “You, Mrs. Wilder.”

  Again she flushed.

  He tugged her onto his lap, tucking arms around her. “I dreamed of the day I could bring you here, give you a home.”

  She felt tears closer to the surface and panicked. It had been so long since she cried, and now every time she turned around, she was choking up.

  His dark head bent so his lips could nuzzle her ear. “What do you think of the cabin?”

  “It’s perfect,” she whispered. And it was. The fire burned in the hearth, spreading a cozy glow over the small space. Even the pallet on the floor looked inviting.

  Of course, having Lyle with her made a difference. Without him, she wouldn’t feel so safe, safer than she had ever felt before.

  “I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. His lips traced down her neck, muscles in his arms flexing as he shifted her weight in his lap. Feeling her body blaze to life at his touch, she let her head fall back, welcoming his kiss on her smooth, white neck.

  “You belong here,” he murmured, and she didn’t have it in her to argue.

  He tipped her back up to look in her eyes, and she took a moment to brush away the dark hair streaming over her brow.

  “Lyle.”

  She surged forward, and kissed him, drinking from his mouth as if she was thirsty and he was the only source of water.

  He lifted her, taking them both to the pallet and lying down without relinquishing her lips.

  Need rose in her and Rose felt frantic. Her fingers tore at the buttons of his shirt, longing to touch him. Needing him. Still drinking from her mouth, he helped her remove his shirt, then shuddered as she ran her nails over the firm expanse of his chest.

  “Take me, Lyle,” she said against his mouth. “I need to feel you. Make me yours.”

  With a growl, he moved so he was on top her. His weight fell into the cradle of her hips and she moaned into his mouth, arching her back so she could press against him. She was born of desire and mindless wanting, rubbing against him as if she was in heat, her body threatening to burst into flames.

  His fingers slipped between her skirts, finding her heat and stroking her.

  “Lyle, please.” Rose felt her nipples harden to aching points, her whole body tightening and centering on the delicious torment between her legs. “Come inside me,” she begged and watched the fire light catch in his eyes.

  “Not yet,” he said hoarsely, fingers strumming her with delicious torment. “I want you ready for me.”

  She struggled then, pulling at him, trying to force his body to merge with hers. Her fingers tore at his back. But he was relentless, rearing up and catching her wrists with one hand, while pressing the palm of his other hand right against her sweet spot. His blue eyes burned.

  “Come for me, Rose. Let go.”

  His grip on her wrists was too tight, but Rose didn’t care. Her hips surged up to meet his hand, legs spread in invitation. The pressure was building inside her, threatening to shake her apart if she didn’t let go soon.

  A moan started deep in her throat.

  “That’s it.” Lyle’s voice was triumphant. “Take your pleasure, a gift from the one who owns you.”

  His arrogant words tipped her over the edge. She flew apart, mind filling with the white hot edge of pleasure as her limbs convulsed. A scream tore from her throat.

  Dazed, she looked up at him, a beautiful smirk on his perfect face. One hand went to trace his features, as if she needed reassurance that he was real. Her fingers smoothed his cheek and jaw, and then felt his lips

  He smiled against her touch, then drew one finger into his mouth and sucked on it, before kissing her fingertips.

  Rose sighed. Her whole body still quivered with aftershocks.

  “That was wonderful.”

  His grin grew bigger. “It’s not over yet.”

  She watched as he stood and stripped, baring himself in the firelight. His muscled form was lean and perfect, evidence of his arousal large and stiff between his legs.

  Her own smile spread across her face. “You want me.”

  “Very much.” He knelt again on the pallet, hands going to her skirts. Together they shed the layers from her skin, until she lay naked and waiting, her shining red hair falling around her shoulders like a cloak.

  “God, Rose.” He touched her with awe on his face. “You are lovely.”

  Her breath caught. Faced with this beautiful man in a haven, it was all too much. She turned her face away, tears suddenly streaming down her face.

  “Rose.”

  “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.” She reached for her anger, her attitude, and there was nothing left.

  Cupping the back of her head, he drew her into his arms, so she could soak his chest with her tears.

  “Let it out, darling,” he said. “Let it all go.”

  “I can’t,” she choked. “I can’t ever let go. I can’t let myself fall.”

  “I’ll catch you,” he whispered. “I won’t let you fall.”

  She drew back to stare into his beautiful face, trying to catch her breath as she hiccupped. “I’ve never had...anyone.”

  “You do now. I’m here. I’ll catch you and I promise I won’t let go.”

  “Kiss me, Lyle.” She needed to feel close to him.

  He did as she asked, and it wasn’t long before their bodies caught fire again, and their love making washed all her fears away.

  *

  “Tell me what happened after your father took you,” Lyle said.

  They were lying entwined. He’d let the fire burn down and Rose watched the curling embers in a daze.

  “I ran away. I was sixteen, but tall for my age. I told everyone I was twenty, and joined the traveling show as a maid. They taught me to dance.” She cuddled close to him, letting her hair fall like a red sheet over his bare torso. “I did well. There were saloons from Kentucky to Wyoming filled with men who knew me, loved my show. I had a gift for it.”

  “I know.”

  “But, the company changed. The girls grew jealous. And the men…”

  His arms squeezed her. “Tell me.”

  “The men in the company were courteous. But the manager started drinking. One night he called me to his tent and told me he wouldn’t pay me my share unless…I gave him what he wanted.” She stared at the fire unseeing, her eyes full of the memory of that horrible night. “I…did something for him, and then he was too gone with drink.” She shook her head. “I took my share of the money that night, got Sam, and ran.” She blinked and focused on Lyle’s flawless face. His beauty gave her strength. “We went to towns the show wouldn’t go to, but that meant dealing with men like Doyle. The rest you know.”

  He nodded. “Now I know it all.”

  She felt a pang of fear. “Do you, Lyle?” Her eyes searched him but his expression held no judgment and no pity, just an understanding that she’d done what she needed to survive.

  “I do,” he said. “I know you’re a fighter, and you’re used to scrapping for everything you get. But, Rose, you gotta know, I’m not going to stop coming for you, until you know how much you mean to me.” He brushed her face w
ith the back of his fingers. “Fight me, sweetheart, please do. Just know, I’m not going anywhere. No way, no how, nothing is gonna get between me and you. That’s a promise.”

  She stared at him, feeling his words land like blows, more effective on her walls than cannon fire.

  His smile curved his lips, and she swallowed hard. In the low light, his eyes shone with a piercing blue light. Even the flickering shadows couldn’t mar his beauty. He had the face of an angel, fallen to earth.

  “You’re so beautiful,” she blurted. Immediately his eyes and face got soft.

  “Right there. You prove you’re worth all the trouble.”

  A pang went through her. Mary had been the beautiful one, the sweet one. Even in all the hardship they’d lived through, Mary’s kind nature had survived. When she was married to Lyle, she would’ve been a perfect angel. Whereas Rose was nothing but trouble.

  Rose turned to her side, and Lyle left the bed for a moment then settled in behind her. Lifting her hand, he secured it with a soft piece of leather then tied the other end around his wrist. He pulled her more firmly against him and lay with his arm along hers, wrists bound in front of their faces.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he said.

  “I don’t want to,” she whispered, and it was the truth. The question was, would Lyle one day look at her and realize she was nothing like his angelic first wife? And when that day came and he cast her out, would she be able to survive?

  “Good,” he chuckled in her ear, oblivious to her change in mood. Twisting her wrist so her fingers could twine with his, he pressed his face into her hair. In no time, his breathing went soft against the back of her neck, but it was a long time before Rose could follow him into sleep.

  *

  “Rose, wake up.”

  Light streamed from the sole window across the pallet, but Rose buried her face in the blanket.

  “No,” she moaned, and Lyle chuckled.

  “It’s dawn.”

  “Sleep.” She burrowed further into the covers then gasped as the warmth left her. She rolled, clutching for the blankets, but Lyle had whipped them off.