“Set one dainty foot on the ground, princess, and I’ll cut a switch,” he said conversationally.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, or don’t they have switches in the great state of Georgia?”
“They have them,” she sighed, looking away.
Cole smiled and picked up a biscuit drizzled with honey. He couldn’t help but notice her eyes repeatedly strayed to his plate. Popping a roasted potato into his mouth he thought he heard her stomach growling. Soon she was fidgeting on her seat.
“What the devil’s wrong now?” he demanded.
“Nothing, I just want to go home,” she sniffed.
“Do you have to use the necessary?”
“Lord, you are the crudest man I’ve ever met,” she cried, blushing wildly. “No, I do not. If you must know I’m hungry.”
Cole looked at her in surprise. She wasn’t very big at all; in fact she was what he’d consider on the scrawny side.
“Hell, you just came from the biggest shindig we’ve seen in these parts for a long time. I’d think you’d be stuffed with all this food.”
“I didn’t eat,” she admitted, looking at her hands balled in her lap.
“Huh?”
“I said I didn’t eat at the party,” she whispered.
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s the way I was raised. Well brought up ladies eat very little in mixed company.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Cole said. Looking at her he wondered if a few good meals would improve her disposition. Then before he knew it he was wondering if the breasts that spilled out from the top of her dress were the real thing, or padded to hell and gone. Did she have any curves of her own under that tightly laced contraption?
“I was taught gentlemen don’t like to see a lady with an appetite, so all we were allowed at parties was a bite or two.”
“Well, I’ll be. No wonder you’re in such a bad mood. Here have a chicken leg,” he offered, graciously holding out his plate.
Just as she was reaching to accept his offer, Cole pulled the plate back.
“I have a better idea. The moon is bright and there’s usually a blanket in the back. Let’s say we get down and share the whole meal?” he suggested.
“You mean like a picnic?” she asked, hopefully.
“Yes, just like that. Stay put for a minute.” Setting the plate on the seat, he got down and located the blanket, spreading it on the ground. Then he returned to the wagon and gently lifted Suzanna down, setting her on her feet.
“You know, you might be a site more comfortable if you’d take off that silly contraption.”
“Where?” she asked, looking around.
“Go behind the wagon. I won’t look, I promise.”
“All right.”
Suzanna lifted her skirts and untied her hoop and all but one petticoat. Goodness, she felt light as a feather. On an impulse, she unbuttoned her top, slipped it off and unfastened her corset. Drawing a big breath of the cool night air, she put her top back on. Wadding the whole mess up, she stuffed it into the back of the wagon.
Cole was waiting for her as she came around, holding up her skirts that were now much too long. Taking her hand he helped her drop to the blanket.
“Without all the folderol, you’re a little thing, and pretty too,” he told her without meaning to. “No wonder you’re starving, there’s not much to you. Come on, we’ll use our fingers,” he said picking up a chicken leg and handing it to her.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she stalled, her face pale in the moonlight.
“I won’t tell, if you don’t,” he teased with a wink.
Smiling for the first time, she took it from his fingers and took a bite, nearly moaning in delight as she closed her eyes.
“Mmm, this is wonderful. Can I have half a biscuit?”
“Sure, and try one of these potatoes,” he offered, popping one into her mouth.
“Cole, I mean, Marshal Hadley, thank you for sharing,” she said softly.
“Cole will do, and you’re welcome. From now on whenever I hear you’re getting up to trouble, I’m going to take you out and feed you.”
Suzanna giggled. They ate deviled eggs, and everything else they could pick up with their fingers. If she noticed Cole fed her the majority of the meal, she didn’t say so. When she was so full she could hardly move she collapsed back on the blanket.
“Now if we only had something to drink,” she sighed.
“I can fix that,” he said, offering his hand and pulling her to her feet. He led her across a field and down a little bank to a brook. Dropping to his knees he scooped crystal clear water into his hands and drank deeply, encouraging her to do the same.
“I’ll ruin my dress,” she worried.
“Come here.”
Sitting, he pulled her down to his lap and held her while she leaned over to drink. When she was done, she made no move to get up and he looked into her eyes. Just as he was about to kiss her, an owl screeched in the distance swooping in for his prey and Cole realized he was no better than that owl.
She was an innocent young girl, come west looking to be a bride and he was a crusty bachelor with no interest in changing his status. Taking advantage of her now would seal both their fates.
“Come on, little girl,” he said lifting her from his lap. “We’d better get you home before they come looking for us.”
“Oh, Cole, do we have to? Can’t we stay and look at the stars for a while. It’s so peaceful out here.”
“This whole area is generally peaceful,” he remarked as he led her back to the blanket and picked up the leftovers.
“Not where I live,” she sighed. “You can’t imagine how loud it can get with all the girls under one roof.”
“I think I can,” he said with a smile. “You were pretty out of control yourself tonight.”
“I know and I’m sorry,” she said, looking at the ground.
“It’s all right,” he replied, tipping her head up with a finger under her chin. “I guess everyone gets a bit muddled now and then.”
“I think this is the first time I’ve felt truly relaxed since I got off the ship. Please, can’t we stay a while longer?”
Cole looked into her pleading eyes and swept her blonde hair off her shoulders with his big hand.
“All right, princess, but only for a while. We can lie on the blanket and count the stars until you think you can go home and sleep and you’d better behave yourself from here on in. No more starving, and no more tantrums, understand?” he asked sternly.
“Yes, Cole.” She settled back on the blanket.
“I wasn’t kidding about the switch, you know?”
“I know,” she replied with a yawn.
“Well, see that you remember it,” he said as he lay down beside her.
“I will. Oh, it’s so beautiful here,” she sighed, looking at the sky.
“Yes, it is,” he answered sadly, looking at her.
Effie had her fingers sunk into Sam’s hair and was pulling hard by the time they got to the study.
“For heaven’s sake, Euphemia, will you stop it? I’m not going to spank you,” he said in disgust as he dropped her onto the settee.
“You’re not?” she asked in surprise, popping up. “Then why were you man-handling me like that?”
“I was trying to extract you from a volatile situation,” he sighed, pouring a brandy for himself and a sherry for her. “Marshal Hadley wasn’t very happy with you,” he continued, handing her the drink.
“I have legs you know. You could have asked me to go into the house with you.”
“Since when do you do what I ask?” he snorted. “Of course once we are married I will expect you to mind me,” he informed her, taking a sip of his brandy.
“We’ll see,” she replied, throwing his words back at him.
Sam laughed.
“You find me amusing?”
“At times, but tonight was not one of them. Why would yo
u even think about attacking that girl?”
“Sam, if you’d heard the things she was saying to Amelia, you’d want to slap her too.”
“What kind of things?” he asked, sitting down and crossing his leg, resting an ankle on his knee.
“Oh, that had she arrived before Amelia, Hugh would have married her, implying of course she’s much more suitable than Amelia in every way. She even made a remark that Amelia’s ring should have been hers.” Pacing she tossed back the rest of her drink. “Then she informed us she was going to settle for you, as you had money and social standing.”
“What about the man who actually sent her the letter?”
“Oh, yes. Mr. Reynolds is too much of a crude, rough lumberjack for her tastes. She much prefers a life of wealth and comfort. It was disgusting,” she hissed as she spun to face him. Seeing his smile, she glared. “What’s so funny?”
“You, you’re jealous.”
“I most certainly am not. I have no reason to be jealous of a spoiled, spiteful bitch.”
“Effie, watch your mouth,” Sam warned, his eyebrows drawing together.
“We’re not married yet, Sam. I don’t have to, as you so quaintly put it, mind you.”
“I’m afraid you do in some instances, sweetheart, and this is one of them. I won’t listen to that kind of language from you. Was Amelia angry?”
“No, dammit, she wasn’t. She actually felt sorry for the bitch. I wanted to slap her face.”
“Euphemia, go to bed now.”
“What?”
“I said go to bed. It’s been a long day and you’re obviously distraught. I’ll be up in a bit to say goodnight.” Walking to the French doors, Sam looked out into the night as he swished his brandy in his glass.
“I most certainly will not,” she yelled at his back. She had a sick feeling in her tummy, almost as though she’d been dismissed. “I’m not a child.”
“No, you’re not, but you will go to bed because I’ve asked you too.”
“You didn’t ask, you ordered.”
“Perhaps I did, but you will still go, under your own steam or with my assistance. As you know, if that is your choice you will be sleeping on your tummy and sobbing into your pillow, like the child you’re not.”
He watched her reflection in the glass; saw the stricken look on her face before she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Lord, she fired his blood, never more so than when she was being defiant. It was galling and shocking, starting with the sassy letter she’d sent to Hugh. Now, he had to be careful. If he wanted her for his wife, he mustn’t touch her in an intimate way again until after the wedding.
Carrying the feisty brat over his shoulder he was oh so tempted to spank her pert little ass red and take her to his bed. His willpower was nearly non-existent when it came to her and, if she could have her cake and eat it too, she would. He had no doubt she’d rather have him as a lover than a husband. Sexual satisfaction was his only trump card and he intended to play his hand skillfully.
The hoopla tonight postponed their announcement, but he didn’t care a whit about that. His mother could plan the grandest wedding reception Seattle had ever seen, but he was getting Miss Euphemia Lane in front of the preacher post haste. Well aware she thought his ardor had cooled, nothing could be farther from the truth. He’d let her stew a few days, wondering if he still wanted her and then he would make his move. If she had to stand before the altar, aching with need, so be it. Whatever it took to make her say, I do.
Tossing back the rest of his drink, Sam went upstairs to tuck her in; at least that’s what he promised himself.
Chapter Eleven
Martha paced the parlor, twisting her hands and going to the window every few minutes.
“I don’t understand it. Suzanna should have been home hours ago. Where could she be?”
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Ethan replied, tipping his head back against the settee and closing his eyes. “The lady left with Marshal Hadley so I’m sure she’s fine,” he sighed.
“No, something’s wrong. They left the dance well before us and she should be home by now.”
“More than likely she got away from him and he had to chase her down. They’ll be along. Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?” he asked with a yawn.
“No, but don’t let me keep you up, Mr. Jorgenson,” she said sarcastically. Peering out between the curtains, she continued. “I know Suzanna is nothing to you, but I happen to care about her very much.”
“That’s uncalled for, Martha,” Ethan said, sitting up. “I only meant if she’s not safe with the marshal, who would she be safe with? I think you’re overreacting.”
“The marshal’s a man isn’t he?” she drawled rudely.
“Yes, he certainly is. I’ve known Cole Hadley for a long time and he’d never do anything to hurt Miss Jefferies, other than maybe teach her a thing or two over his knees.”
“Oh, I see, and a spanking doesn’t hurt I suppose,” she said with a sniff.
“Not a lasting hurt, and you just might find out for yourself if you don’t stop your sassy attitude. I’m only trying to help.”
“Well, you’re not helping. I think I’ll take a horse and ride over to the Jordons. Maybe someone over there will care that my friend still isn’t home and it’s nearly 3:00 a.m.” Moving to the hall tree, she took down her cloak and reached for the door knob.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Ethan said, plucking the cloak from her hands. “It’s the middle of the night and you’re not that good of a rider yet. I’ll not have you injuring yourself or a good mount in a fit of temper.”
“I’ll do as I damn well please, Mr. Jorgenson. You’re not the boss of me yet, and you never will be if this is an example of married life with you,” she insisted, giving him a shove and trying to get out the door.
Ethan was stumped for a moment. He knew what she needed and his mind told him to give her a good licking, but his heart said otherwise. The color in her cheeks, the fire in her eyes demanded another response to her temper and before he knew it he pulled her into his arms, taking her right off her feet.
His lips claimed hers mid squeal. Ignoring her outrage he cupped her bottom and kissed her until her feet stopped drumming against his legs and she softened in his grasp.
“Martha, for all your ladylike ways and proper manners, you’re still a firecracker,” he whispered against her lips. Setting her down, he steadied her with his hands on her shoulders as she looked up at him in confusion.
“Ethan…”
“I know, sweetheart. I feel the same way, kind of woozy and befuddled. I want you to know if I had any idea in my thick skull of ever letting you go, that kiss sealed your fate. I’ve never met a woman I wanted to spank and kiss at the same time,” he finished with a grin.
“And I’ve never met a man I wanted to kiss and strangle,” she admitted, blushing.
“You wait here; I’ll go get the carriage and take you to the Jordons. Perhaps you’re right and we should let them know Miss Jefferies hasn’t returned. Cole could be lying in a ditch somewhere, beaten within an inch of his life with a corset stay,” he teased as he opened the door.
“Ethan,” Martha called after him, holding onto the wide door for support.
“Yes?” he asked, turning around halfway across the porch.
“I’ve decided I will marry you,” she said softly, looking into his blue eyes.
Ethan looked at the dark hair spilling around her shoulders, the nervous quiver of her lips and returned to her side in two strides. Taking her hand he raised it to his lips, kissing her palm.
“Thank you, Martha,” he said solemnly before hurrying away to get the carriage.
They arrived after four in the morning and Ethan roused the family, his huge hand beating at the door.
Tempest, Grace and Effie, staggered downstairs in their nightgowns and robes to see what the commotion was and Martha quickly explained.
“I’ll ride over and wake H
ugh,” Sam said, stuffing his nightshirt into the breeches he’d pulled on. “Martha, you stay here with the women and Ethan will head up to camp one and round up some help. Father, Hugh and I will meet you, Jonah, and the others at the fork and we can split up there.”
“Right,” Duncan agreed. “Darlin’ make some coffee so the men can have a cup before we set out. It may take some time to find them.
“I’ll do it,” Martha offered, hanging up her cloak and heading toward the kitchen. “I’m sure Effie, Grace and Tempest want to get dressed.”
Ethan left quickly and Duncan went upstairs with his wife to dress. Sam pulled his boots on and straightened, watching Effie. Last night he decided to let her wonder for a few days if his interest had waned. He’d entered her room and kissed her chastely as he wished her sweet dreams. Now seeing the uncertainty on her face as she stood there in her nightclothes, her long blonde hair hanging down her back in a thick braid, he doubted the wisdom of his decision.
Her brown eyes widened in surprise as he strode to her, tugged her braid firmly and devoured her lips as soon as her chin came up.
“Try and behave while I’m gone,” he sighed, slapping her bottom briskly. “I don’t think I could spank that beautiful ass without taking you like a madman,” he growled into her neck as he pulled her off the second step and into his arms. “Trying to pretend I don’t want you is impossible,” he admitted ruefully as he released her and turned away.
“Sam,” Effie called out hoarsely as he stepped through the door. “I want you too.”
Turning back to face her, he saw the truth of her words in the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, the color of her cheeks and the desire in her eyes.
“That’s what I’m counting on,” he said with a wicked grin that was more promise than threat.
*
They found them just as the day was breaking. Cole lay on his back sleeping, Suzanna curled against his side. Her head rested on his broad shoulder as his arm held her close. Her skirts were up around her knees and Sam quickly bent to pull them down. Still they slept on.
It wasn’t until the barrel of Jonathon Reynolds’s shotgun poked him in the gut that Cole stirred.
“You owe me three hundred dollars, Marshal,” the man insisted, giving Cole another poke.
Effie Page 10
