A Marriage By Chance

by Carolyn Davidson

  “Sounds fair to me,” Chloe told him. She turned back to J.T. and assessed his stony demeanor. “Did you find anything out?” From the corner of her eye she saw Cleary move toward the barn, his horse breaking into a slow trot. And then she spoke her thoughts aloud. “Is he all right? He doesn’t seem the ranch hand sort to me.”

  “Let’s take it one day at a time,” J.T. said, dismounting and walking beside Chloe as they ambled up the lane. “No, I didn’t find out a whole lot. Corky’s not saying much, mostly because his jaw’s pretty sore. Maybe a session with the judge will help him remember who his friends were. Maybe not.” He untied his bandanna with one hand and wiped his face with it.

  “And then about Cleary. He’s a cool one, a good rider, packs a gun and rides light. Just a pair of saddlebags, but his saddle and boots are first-class. That tells me a lot about a man. Takes good care of his horse from what I could see.” He looked down at her questioningly. “Are you willing to give him a week to prove himself?”

  “You already have,” she said, and then softened the words with a smile. “I’m not being snide,” she added. “This is your department. I’ve about had enough of picking and choosing men for the job. Corky was the last one I took on here, and I didn’t do such a hot job when I hired him, did I?”

  Willie appeared before them, riding his latest mount around from the corral, and he nodded in greeting as he stepped from the horse. “You want me to walk this one, Miss Chloe?” he asked. “I suspect you’ll have things to do now, with the men back and all.”

  “That’ll be fine, Willie,” she said pleasantly. “I’ll brush this gelding down and put him out in the pasture before I go in.”

  J.T. followed her into the barn and his grip on her arm turned her into the nearest corner. “You have got the sweetest fanny, lady,” he whispered against her ear. “I was noticing this morning how nicely it fit into my hands.”

  She peered up at him in the dim light. “Are you out of your mind? We’re in the barn with three men not ten feet away and you’re talking about my body parts.”

  “They can’t hear me,” he said, his voice dark with promise. “I just wanted you to know that I haven’t been able to concentrate on much else all day, just remembering…”

  He took the lead line from her hand and spoke to the nearest man, his eyes never leaving her face.

  “Shorty, how about taking these horses and having someone rub them down good and put ’em out back. Mrs. Flannery and I are going in the house to talk about supper.”

  “Sure enough, boss,” Shorty said cheerfully. “The quicker Miss Chloe gets food on the table, the better I’ll like it. It’s been a long time since breakfast.”

  “Tilly’s got things on the back burner, Shorty,” Chloe assured him. “We’ll be ready in fifteen minutes, guaranteed.”

  “We’ll move right along, then,” the stockman said with a grin. “I’ll crack the whip out here. They’ll be lined up at the trough to get the dust washed off before you know it.”

  His arm stretching across her shoulders, J.T. turned Chloe toward the barn door and set off for the house, slackening his pace to match hers. “It’ll be dark in about four hours,” he said, nodding at the sun where it stood in the western sky.

  “Are you trying to tell me something?” Chloe asked, looking up into eyes that met hers boldly. Neither gray nor brown, sometimes the dark orbs hovered on the edge of black, when his body was attuned to action or, like now, when he offered a peek into the emotions that drove him.

  And yet, even as she watched, his control seemingly overrode the desire he’d allowed the upper hand, and his smile was crooked as he peered down at her. “You’re pretty sassy, honey,” he said. “I just may make you wash my back again after supper. That’ll show you your place around here.”

  “And where’s that?” she asked, climbing the porch step, then turning quickly to clasp his shoulders. His hands rose to grip her waist and she felt the leashed power beneath his fingers.

  She’d been right, she decided, looking deeply to search out the expression in his eyes. They were a gauge she’d used to measure his feelings over the past weeks. Now, the calm, yet measuring look he bent in her direction brought about a sizzling reaction in the pit of her stomach she’d only begun to recognize recently.

  “Your place is beside me,” he said, resolution setting his jaw firmly. “Whether that’s at the supper table or in bed. I want you next to me. When I leave here in the morning, if you’re not with me through the day, I want to know you’ll be waiting for me when I come in that back door.”

  “And where’s your place in my life?” she asked quietly, sensing the serious bent his statement had taken.

  “I promised to take care of you and honor you, Chloe. I’m your husband, and I’ll make damn sure any man who looks in your direction does so with respect. We’re partners in this place, and you hold an equal part of everything here. I’ll be beside you all the way.”

  Well, that was certainly putting his money where his mouth was, she decided, stunned by the responsibility he had assumed. Without even blinking an eye, he’d staked his claim on her, stating his intentions in no uncertain terms. In these moments, even more eloquently than during the wedding ceremony they’d participated in, he’d offered her his full loyalty and promises for their future.

  And in so doing had managed to turn her into a creature she’d never thought to resemble. A woman in love.

  “Did Willie talk to you today?” he asked, closing the bedroom door behind them. Turning, he reached to latch the new lock he’d installed right after supper; then, rubbing his palms together in a gesture of male satisfaction, he leaned back against the solid barrier.

  Her eyes flew to the shiny, brass addition and she fought the blush that threatened to turn her cheeks a rosy hue. “I wondered what you were doing in here. Some special reason we need a lock on the door?” she asked, and he was bright enough not to push it.

  “I wanted you to know that when we’re in here together, it’ll be as private as you want it to be.” Short and simple, an explanation that was just another sample of his willingness to do some catering to her needs, she decided.

  “All right,” she said agreeably, turning away to place the lamp she carried on the bedside table. “And yes, Willie came to the house this noon and made a pretty apology for his cocky attitude. He told me about his new girlfriend in town.” Looking back at him as she bent to the table, she noted the satisfied look he wore.

  “Did you put him up to it?” she asked bluntly.

  “I just suggested, politely, that he might want to get on your good side, and make amends for his foolishness. I think he’s seen the error of his ways.” He took his weight from the door and walked toward the bed, his fingers working at buttons, tugging his shirt from its moorings and hanging it over the post as he rounded the corner of the bed.

  “If you’ll turn around here, I’ll give you a hand with getting that shirt off, Mrs. Flannery,” he offered.

  “Not till I have my gown out of the drawer and the lamp’s blown out, you won’t,” she retorted. “Besides, I managed to button the thing, and I’ll warrant I can get out of it by myself. But the lamp goes out first. I’m not going to be on display for anybody who wants to take a gander in that window.”

  “I won’t argue with you about the lamp being left on tonight. You can blow it out just as soon as I get you all undone here. But you won’t need that nightgown, sweetheart.” He made short work of the fastenings on her shirt, yet his fingertips lingered on her skin at every opportunity, and as she watched, his eyes narrowed, his mouth thinned and a ruddy texture mottled his tanned skin.

  With barely audible tones, he murmured her name, bending to touch the tip of his tongue on a bit of exposed flesh beneath her collarbone. And then he held her from him, and his hungry gaze brought a matching glow to her body, rising from her breasts to color taut and heated skin.

  “You’ve got a randy bridegroom on your hands, sweetheart. A
man who’s been waiting longer than any man should have to. I’m more than ready to take you to bed and get this marriage off the ground.”

  “I’ve been thinking about things all day, J.T., first about the rustlers, and then—” she said quickly, then ceased abruptly as his fingertips touched her lips and his head shook a slow denial of her words.

  “Not now, sweetheart. In the morning, we’ll talk, or later tonight if you want to, but for now, there’s just you and me and a few hours’ time to fill with turning you into my wife.”

  Stepping aside, he bent to the lamp, lifting the globe and blowing out the flame. The room was swept into darkness by his action, and each whispered breath was magnified by the silence that fell between them. Her shirt fell to the floor with barely a sound, and then he worked at the placket of her trousers, his agile fingers sliding the buttons loose and lowering the heavy denim the length of her legs.

  She stood before him and he nudged her closer, until she was wedged between his knees as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Take off your vest,” he murmured and she felt his gaze on the pale rise of her breasts as the stars filtered their light through the window.

  “Slide down your drawers,” he said next, and she did as he asked, feeling awkward as she stood before him with garments gathered around her feet. He leaned closer and his breath warmed her belly, sending shivers the length of her body as his tongue touched the sensitive skin inside her navel.

  Long fingers slid between her stockings and the backs of her legs, and one by one he lifted her feet to strip the remaining garments from where they lay. “Damn, I told you this was a sweet fanny.” Released on a sigh, the words were accompanied by his hands against her bottom and he squeezed the flesh, his fingertips rough against her skin, bringing new sensations to life.

  She whimpered, bending her head to his, and he looked up, his skin drawn tautly over the bones of his face, his mouth an unsmiling line. Was there any semblance of love to be found there, she wondered. Did he feel any of the same surging desire that ran rampant even now within her breast? Or was it simple masculine need for satisfaction that drove him?

  “I don’t know how long I can last, Clo,” he said softly. “I’ve never needed anything so much in my life as I need you right now.” His groan was muffled against her skin as he buried his face in the softness of her belly, and she felt the brush of his evening beard against sensitive flesh. Then the feel of long fingers cupping her and finally nudging her thighs apart.

  His head dipped lower and his breath blew softly against the curling nest of dark hair he found there. Surely not. The words loud in her mind, she tensed, but he only held her more firmly, and then his tongue edged the tender skin from one side to the other, barely touching the line of feminine hair that felt the warmth of his breath.

  “Jay?” She heard the panic thread through the single syllable and her hands tugged at his hair. For less than a moment, for the length of a single second, he lingered, and then lifted his face to her. If ever she had felt a moment’s apprehension with this man, it was now.

  And then his touch softened, his fingers smoothing the taut flesh of her bottom as he rose, easing her from him. Hands that promised pleasure rose to cup the firm rounding of her breasts and he dipped to kiss with almost chaste caresses the upper rise of her bosom. As if she were lifted with no effort, he swept her feet from the floor and turned with her to the bed, placing her in the center of the quilt.

  She watched as he lowered his trousers and drawers, her gaze intent as he sat beside her to scoop stockings to join them, and then bent in her direction. “I’m going to make you mine, Clo,” he whispered. “I want you to know when you get up in the morning that there are no boundaries between us. What we do here, in this room, is for us, for the pleasure we can find in this bed.” His hand brushed her hair back, and then his fingers tangled in the length that spread across her pillow, and he ran it between fingertips and palm, drawing the tress to its full length before he released it.

  “I want you to have it all, sweetheart. I want you so filled with me, you’ll never wonder again if I care enough about you to be here for you, from now until the day I die.” His voice thickened as he spoke the words that eased her thoughts, words she’d never dreamed of hearing from a man. And the knowledge she’d harbored within her breast poured forth in a murmured confession she could not contain.

  “I love you, Jay. I didn’t know what it would be like to love a man, not till now. And you don’t have to say the words in return. It’s enough that you know how I feel about you.” She slid her fingers through his hair and drew his head closer. “I don’t know much about this. You already know that, but whatever pleases you will please me, too.”

  His groan was taut with passion, and his body was hardened with a desire he made no effort to conceal as he lowered himself over her. Holding his weight on his forearms, he bent to take her mouth, his tongue impatient as he sought the secret places he’d only begun to explore two nights past.

  Swept up in the churning whirlwind of his passion, left breathless by his desire, Chloe could only submit to the caresses he bestowed upon her body. Soft sounds of pleasure poured from her lips as he nuzzled and suckled, finding places she’d never before known could contain such shivering sensations beneath her flesh. He murmured softly, words of admiration for her firmness, for the rounding of her hips and the shape of her breasts, for the spattering of freckles he kissed with patient care.

  And it was as it had been the first night, only that now there was no call from the yard, no voices to disturb the culmination of his tenderness, his passion and the power of his possession. She felt a stinging pain, one he seemed to absorb with a sudden stillness of his movements; and then he pushed deeper within her, and his groan was harsh and aching in her ear as he withdrew, only to lay claim again to the tender flesh she offered.

  As though a mountain rose before her, she struggled to find the rhythm needed to assail the peak and fly freely. For surely the rising tension he brought to life must in some way be brought to fruition. Her cry was smothered by his mouth as she sought some elusive touch that would put an end to the driving, aching need, forcing her to surge against his body.

  He murmured against her lips, his words guttural, urging her movements, and she gripped his shoulders with the full force of her strength, fearing she could not endure longer without relief from the tension with which she struggled. And then, as though released by a giant hand, her body was fully, achingly, enveloped by a throbbing pleasure she could only enclose, allowing it to fill her until her breath shattered and she cried out his name.

  Her moan smothered against the damp skin of his shoulder, she felt the throbbing of her inner tissues subside, and was aware only that he moved against her once more, two, then three long, pulsing strokes bringing him to a shuddering release.

  He was heavy, and she welcomed his weight. Their bodies were slick with perspiration, and the breeze fluttering the white curtains swept across the bed in a soothing, cooling stream. She felt the coiling of muscle as he lifted from her and her grip tightened, her fingertips digging into the taut lines of his back.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me yet.”

  “All right.” Holding his weight above her, enabling her to breathe freely, he touched his lips idly to hers, then to her cheek and forehead, tender gestures that expressed words she knew he would not speak.

  And it was enough.

  Chapter Ten

  “There’s not a whole lot we can do, Hogan.” J.T.’s words were forceful, yet a note of frustration was apparent. “Until Micah gives us the go ahead, it’s in his hands. The trail is dead, and we’re going to have to stay put until the judge comes in at the end of the week and gets Corky up before him.”

  “We’re just gonna let this bunch of outlaws hit and run and get away with it?” Hogan’s voice was rough, raw with anger, and J.T. shook his head in quick denial.

  “Hell, no. We’re going to double the number
of men keeping watch at night, and the rest of us will take turns doing double duty on the chores. We’ve got a ranch to run, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let a gang of rustlers put a halt to the operation.” He strode toward the barn, and Hogan was hard put to keep up.

  “I want every man armed to the teeth, and be sure they’ve all got enough ammunition to do some good if they need it. Put the new man with Willie. I don’t know which of them will be watching the other more closely, but I’ve a notion Cleary is a force to behold if his back’s against the wall. Micah wouldn’t have given him the nod if he didn’t trust him.”

  “All right, whatever you say goes, boss. I know Winters has hired on a couple of men that look more like gunfighters than ranch hands to me. I feel like we’re heading for a battle here before we know it.”

  “That may be,” J.T. agreed. “But we’re going to be ready for it, one way or the other. I’ve put a couple of shotguns handy for Chloe and Tilly. They’re better off with them than a rifle, I figure. And I’m staying pretty close to the house. You’re in charge of the rest of the operation out there.” His hand waved toward the north, where the herd had been gathered into as small an area as they could manage.

  “Keeping track of the horses will be up to me, and whoever isn’t needed on the range. Have the men take turns, and be sure they’re not asleep in that damn cabin the next time someone decides to cut the fence.”

  Hogan shook his head. “You know as well as I do that Corky did that job for them. It’s just too bad that Tom…” He paused as if he rethought his words. “Hell, I don’t know what would have made a difference. We all thought the man was on the up-and-up. And I know damn well Chloe is beatin’ herself over the head, thinkin’ she was the one that hired him on.”

  “I think she’s more worried about Pete,” J.T. said. “Not knowing where he is or what he’s up to is preying on her mind right now.”