One wet hand rose to circle her nape and he turned her head a bit, the better to deepen the kiss they shared. “You’re a fast learner, Mrs. Flannery.” Smacking of approval, his voice drawled the words, his teeth touching her lower lip as she drew back. “Do you think we could continue this in the bedroom? Or are you too sleepy? As I recall, you didn’t get any more sleep than I did.”
She rubbed the soap briskly against the cloth, working up a foamy lather, then pushed his head forward, the better to reach his shoulders. “Bend,” she ordered him, her mouth damp with his kiss, her heart scampering as she considered his invitation. She put muscle into her movements, and he lifted higher in the tub as she scrubbed at the long, strong tendons that formed the firmness of his back.
“I’ll wash your hair,” she offered, cleaning the sides of his neck and dropping the cloth into his waiting hand. He bent lower and she worked up an abundance of suds in his dark waves, using the pads of her fingertips to massage his head.
“Lady, you’ve got yourself a job,” he told her, his voice slurring the syllables. “No one ever scrubbed my head before, and I think I’m gonna make this a regular thing.”
If he lasted past crawling into bed before he was sound asleep, she’d be surprised. Her lips curved in amusement as she rinsed his head with warm water from the bucket beside the tub. “Do you have anything to wear in here?” she asked, looking around for fresh clothing. Only a pile of dirty laundry met her eye and she rose. “I’ll go get you something to put on.”
“Don’t bother,” he told her, pulling the plug and rising from the tub. “I’ll wrap a towel around me. Just make sure Tilly’s not in the kitchen.” He stepped onto the floor and she studiously kept her eyes on his face, handing him a clean towel from the stack kept handy for the purpose.
“How about drying my back?” he asked, his mouth twitching as if he noticed her resolution to ignore his naked flesh. Turning his back, he offered her a view of taut buttocks and wide shoulders, with a length of body that beckoned her touch. She snatched up another towel and rubbed it in long strokes down his length from nape to waist, then swiped it across the same area from side to side.
“Don’t stop there,” he said quietly, and as she hesitated, he turned to face her. “I’ll do the rest of my back, if you’ll do the front,” he offered, and she looked up into eyes that burned away every notion she’d had about how they would spend the next hour or so. Either that, or his hooded gaze reflected a need he would be too weary to assuage.
“All right,” she whispered, and then watched her hands as they moved the towel across his chest, the fabric absorbing drops of water from the dark hair adorning the skin before her eyes. She worked her way beneath his arms and down his sides, bending a bit as she looked down at his narrow hips. The towel draped before him, neatly covering the part of him she was trying to ignore.
“You’re not going to finish?” he asked as her hands ceased their movement and she stood erect once more.
“You want me to dry your legs, too?”
He relented and lifted her chin, looking into her eyes with a heated gaze she could no longer mistake. “Not this time, Clo. I’m thinking of something else, but I reckon I’ve pushed you about as far as I’m gonna get for tonight.”
Taking a dry towel from the stack, he wrapped it around his hips, tucking it in at the side. “Go check on Tilly,” he told her. “And then we’re going to bed.”
Chapter Nine
She awoke in his arms, his shoulder beneath her head. A soft snore escaped J.T.’s mouth and Chloe curled closer to him, nestling her bare breasts against the soft patch of hair covering his chest. Her bare breasts. She stilled, then shifted her leg a bit, drawing from his arms with small infinitesimal movements, bent on retrieving her nightgown from wherever it had gone.
“Don’t wiggle, sweetheart. I’m not ready to get up yet, and neither are you.” His husky murmur, accompanied by a tightening of his embrace, only served to add momentum to her retreat.
“I want my nightgown,” she muttered stubbornly, searching her mind for some hint of the night’s events. Only to find it vacant of all but an elusive dream that consisted of J.T.’s hands removing her clothing before she crawled into the bed.
“It’s in the drawer, I suspect. Besides you don’t need it.” One arm lowered to curl beneath her bottom and he drew her higher against himself. “I’ll keep you as warm as you’ll let me.” His mouth found a tender spot to nuzzle, and he nudged her head back, sampling her skin.
Somehow, it seemed the better choice to remain where she was. Not that he was giving her an option anyway. And at that thought, she gave up all notion of retreating from his embrace and, instead, slid her arm beneath his to trace the long line of his back beneath her fingertips. The sun was just rising, and surely another few minutes wouldn’t hurt anything.
“I don’t remember coming to bed,” she whispered, tilting her head a bit more as his tongue touched the rim of her ear.
“Hm…it’s no wonder,” he murmured, his voice rich with humor. “Do you remember kissing me just inside the bedroom door?”
Her hand ceased its movement against taut flesh as she recalled a heated embrace, remembered leaning fully against him and resting her head against his broad chest. “I kissed you?”
He chuckled and she felt the vibration of his amusement. “Want to try it again and refresh your memory?” His teeth nipped carefully at her earlobe.
“What happened?” She sat up, catching him unaware, and then, recognizing the result of her abrupt action, grabbed for the sheet, to hold it over her breasts.
He grinned, eyeing her attempt at modesty, and then relented. “You were asleep on your feet, Clo. I stripped off your clothes and tucked you in between the sheets.”
“We didn’t—”
“No,” he said, “we didn’t. I won’t ever take advantage of you, sweetheart. Besides I don’t know if it was even an option.” His lips twisted into a smile. “But I think I could consider it now.”
“It’s almost full daylight.” She blurted out the words. Surely the man didn’t think she would be ready to finally consummate their marriage with the sun shining through the bedroom window.
“Does it matter to you?” he asked, his eyes watchful, gauging her reaction.
“I think so,” she whispered. “Maybe when everyone is asleep and I don’t have to worry about hearing the men outside or Tilly in the kitchen. I think then would be better.”
“You’re the boss,” he said agreeably, though the light in his eyes dimmed, as he accepted her reluctance.
“I am?” Relief flooded her at his easy acceptance, and she bent to kiss his lips with a hasty movement. “That’s a relief. After you being so bossy yesterday, I thought I’d lost all my power around here.”
“You’ve got more power than you ever dreamed of, Clo,” he said quietly, his words bringing her curiosity to a new level.
“I guess I don’t understand what you’re saying,” she said after a moment.
“Maybe it’s for the best.” He tugged at the sheet she held, and reluctantly she allowed him to drape it lower over her body. His gaze moved to her breasts and she felt the tightening of flesh as he lifted his index finger to trace the dark outline of each puckered peak. “Now,” he said, his voice oozing temptation with each syllable. “Think about that all day long, and when I crawl into this bed tonight, we’ll take over where we left off.”
“Ma’am?” Willie stood several feet from the back porch, holding his hat before him, fingers clenching the brim as though it might be blown away if he should relax his hold.
Chloe looked up from the record book she’d discovered in her father’s office, one in which he’d begun recording the dropping of foals, and then apparently decided it was not a necessary thing to continue. Absorbed in reading the unique entries, written in a scratching, sometimes illegible script, she had escaped to another time for a few moments. Willie’s voice called her to return.
The
book closed with a snap, as though she could not share her discovery, although Willie showed no inclination to peer past her. Indeed, he seemed about as set on vanishing at the first opportunity as any reluctant caller she’d ever encountered.
“What is it, Willie?” Her words were careful, not inviting any familiarity from the boy, but it seemed his demeanor was beyond reproach today.
“I think I need to apologize to you, Miss Chloe. I was remembering how upset J.T. got with me, that one day when he thought I was being disrespectful to you, and I decided maybe he was right on the money. And so I thought I needed to let you know that I won’t be givin’ you any more trouble, or lookin’ at you any way I shouldn’t from now on.”
She was stunned. No other word quite described her reaction to the young man’s words, and she scrambled for a reply. “Well, I’m sure…no, as a matter of fact, I’m not sure at all,” she began. “I know you had words with J.T., but I haven’t had any reason to find fault with you since, Willie.” She watched as his face reddened, and his lips pressed tightly together.
“I appreciate that, ma’am. My mama counts on what I earn here to help out at home. I wouldn’t want you to think I don’t appreciate working for you.”
“All right,” she said, nodding her understanding. And then a thought winged its way past her mind and she spoke it aloud. “Did you think I might be looking at you, wondering if you’re connected to the rustlers, Willie?”
“I’m not, I swear it. I got a big mouth sometimes, and my mama says I’m too smart for my own good, always talking out of turn, but I’d never do anything to bring trouble to the Double B.” The words rushed from him, and Chloe felt sincerity flow through each syllable.
“I believe you, Willie. Have you spoken to J.T. about it? Although,” she continued, “I don’t think he suspected you of any shenanigans, anyway.”
“No, I didn’t say anything to him at all. He wasn’t exactly in a good mood last time I laid eyes on him. I swear, ma’am, I thought he was gonna kill Corky out there. And then—” he looked away as if he could not meet her gaze any longer “—I heard what Corky said to him about you, and I thought if J.T. was mad at me that way, I wouldn’t stand a chance of comin’ out of it alive.”
She smiled, understanding dawning as Willie’s feet shuffled in the dirt. “You thought you’d better mend your fences.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“Consider them mended, Willie. And tell your mama she raised you right. You might want to practice your flirting on someone a little younger and more available next time.” Her voice softened. “I wasn’t young enough for you, and I was never available.”
“I know that now.” He clapped his hat on his head, relief wiping the apprehension from his eyes. “I’ve been seeing Miss Francie Higgins some when I go home for church on Sundays. She’s only seventeen, but her pa lets her walk out with me on Sunday afternoons.”
“I’m sure your mama will approve,” Chloe said, thankful that the set-to had come to a conclusion, aware that J.T. had made an unforgettable impression on his ranch hands. And what exactly had been said about her, out there on the range, was of small concern. Only the fact that he had defended her, maybe too well, but certainly without hesitation, was uppermost in her mind. She hadn’t had a champion before, and the experience was most satisfying.
“What was all that about?” Tilly spoke from the kitchen doorway as Willie swaggered his way back to the barn, apparently pleased that he was once more in favor with the boss’s bride.
“Willie and I had some words back some time ago. He was pretty obnoxious, to tell the truth, and J.T. set him straight. Apparently he’s gotten religion, going to church with Francie Higgins, the banker’s daughter, on Sunday mornings lately.”
She turned to look solemnly over her shoulder at Tilly. “I think I’ve been replaced in his affections by a younger woman. Francie’s only seventeen.”
“You’ll survive,” Tilly said, “and for sure be better off with a man who doesn’t shuffle his feet and blush like that young’un does.”
“Well, J.T.’s no foot shuffler, that’s for sure,” Chloe noted, holding the record book to her breasts as she rose from the chair.
Tilly held the door open for her. “You ever get your marriage off the ground, yet?”
Chloe laughed. “I turned him down this morning. I know, I know,” she said with an uplifted hand and a laugh forming on her lips. “You told me to just relax and let things happen when we talked yesterday, but I just couldn’t, with the sun coming up and all.”
“He’s got quite a temper, hasn’t he?” Tilly asked, and yet it was not a query, but a statement of fact, Chloe thought. “I think the men are a little in awe of him.” Tilly shot a look in her direction as Chloe sat down at the kitchen table, opening the record book before her. “You’re not afraid of him, are you?”
“He’d never hurt me,” Chloe said simply. “He hasn’t made me any big promises. Just that one, in fact, but I trust him, Aunt Tilly. I don’t know why he went off like a fire-cracker out there, but no one seems to hold it against him, and I’m not going to either.”
“You reading up on your Pa’s account keeping?” Tilly asked, apparently satisfied with Chloe’s frame of mind. “He wasn’t much for record books as I recall. Said he’d rather just keep things in his head.”
“I’m thinking it would be good to take note of which mares J.T. is breeding and put down the results in the spring. It’ll give us a better idea of our profits when it comes time to sell off the horses. He thinks we’ve already got enough mares in foal to more than pay for the investment he made in the stallion.”
“How does he know all this stuff, anyway?” Tilly asked. “I thought he hadn’t been a rancher before.”
“He wasn’t. I think some men just naturally have a knack for it. And I’m thankful that J.T. is one of that breed.”
“You’re sure steppin’ back and lettin’ him take over, girl. I didn’t think you could do it.”
“I’m willing to let him be head man here, Tilly. But I’ll keep the records and have my hand in things. The place is half mine, and I’ll share the decisions. Whether Pete likes it or not, that’s the way it’s going to be.”
“Pete. Now that’s another thing. Where do you suppose he is?” Tilly pulled out another chair and sat down with an abrupt movement. “I’m wondering about that boy, and I don’t like the way my thoughts are moving.”
“Do you suppose he’s tangled up in this mess with the rustlers, Aunt Tilly? If he is, he’ll end up in prison at the very least.” A sob caught in her throat, and Chloe, aware of the mournful sound of her voice, winced. “I just can’t bear to think that he’d betray me that way, but right now I don’t know what else to make of it.”
“Are the men going to be gone overnight, do you think?” Tilly asked. “J.T. didn’t say when he left if we should expect them back for supper.”
“I don’t know,” Chloe told her. “He left Willie here to do chores and keep an eye on things, and everyone else left for town. I think Winters took a bunch of his men and went along. I’ll bet I wouldn’t want to be in Corky’s shoes today, with all those men hotter than a pistol and out for his neck.”
“We haven’t had a hanging in these parts for a long time,” Tilly said gloomily. “I sure as the dickens hate to see it happen now, even if the scalawag does deserve it. I’d think we’d be beyond that kind of justice pretty soon.”
“Well, if rustling goes out of style, maybe the prison in Laramie will have some empty cells. But till then, I guess they’ll keep on shippin’ these crooks off to sit around and consider their sins.” Chloe closed the book again, aware that her urge to update and improve her father’s methods was off the agenda for today. “We live in a harsh world, Aunt Tilly. I guess we need to be tough.”
She rose and looked at the stove where a pot simmered on the back burner. “Is that soup about done? I’ll have some before I go out to work with the horses for a while
.”
“Done enough to eat, I expect,” Tilly answered, lifting the lid to stir the contents. “When you go out, ask that young’un in the barn if he wants some dinner. I guess he deserves some food in his belly, now that he took all his courage in one hand and made his apologies so nicely.”
Willie ate two bowls of soup and mopped up the remains with a slice of bread, seemingly grateful for the invitation. Between the two of them, Willie riding and putting the mounts through their paces and Chloe cooling them and brushing them down, they managed to spend the entire afternoon in good spirits.
When an approaching cloud of dust turned out to be six riders instead of the five who’d left earlier in the day, Chloe halted her trek back toward the barn and watched their approach, gripping the halter of the young gelding she’d been working with.
J.T. slowed his stud and halted beside her, his gaze searching her face. “Everything all right here?” he asked, his voice husky, as if trail dust had roughened his words.
Chloe nodded, suddenly a bit shy as the other men glanced in her direction and then away quickly. All but the extra horseman, who scanned her with visible curiosity lighting his eyes. She turned in his direction and spoke to J.T. in an undertone. “Where’d you get the stranger?”
“Picked him up in town. Micah said he was looking for a spot to hang his hat, and I figured we’d better be filling in the gap, with summer here and not enough hands to go around.” He glanced at the tall rider and motioned him closer.
“This is my wife,” he said shortly. “She’s half owner of the ranch, and the men call her Miss Chloe.”
“Ma’am?” The rider doffed his hat for a split second, then replaced it, the usual homage given to a woman. His eyes were hooded and he took note of her in a casual way, one Chloe could find no fault with, but still sensed his interest. “My name’s Cleary. I’m familiar with horses and cattle, and I work for a fair wage. Your husband said he’d give me a week or so to prove myself.”
A Marriage By Chance Page 14
