Promises Keep (The Promise Series)

by Sarah McCarty

  “I thought you were never coming.”

  “I’ll always come for you.”

  As he pulled up the covers, his hand brushed her still swollen nipples. They beckoned him with a siren’s lure. Very gently, he lowered his mouth to the tempting nubs. Mara moaned a protest, but he kept it easy and slow and her protest subsided to sighs. She didn’t protest at all when his mouth moved lower. She just parted her thighs and gifted Cougar with the depth of her trust. He loved her gently, thoroughly, and when she was shifting against him, he slid up her body, sliding his cock into the snug channel of her pussy, working it past the tight grip of muscle, sliding inexorably deeper until she took him all. Then he rested, letting her get used to him, enjoying the sense of coming home.

  “Who do you belong to, Mara?”

  She reached up and touched his cheek. “I belong to you.”

  He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. “Yeah. You do.”

  He replaced her hand on his shoulder, braced himself above her and loved her slowly, tenderly, thoroughly. When she came, it was with gentle contractions, her arms wrapped lightly around his shoulders, her hips undulating lazily against his. Feeling as if he poured himself into her, he gave his essence into her keeping.

  He pulled his cock free and turned her back to him, knowing she liked to sleep on her side. He curved in behind her, cupping her buttocks in the curve of his hips. He eased his softening cock inside her as far as it would go. Needing the connection between them. He laid his hand over her belly, knowing his seed was inside, wondering if it took root. He’d like a child with her.

  With a little murmur, she caught his hand to her lips, tucked it under her cheek, and went to sleep. Cougar smiled and kissed her hair. He pulled the covers over their shoulders and closed his own eyes.

  She was smothering. It was a heck of a thing to wake up to, but Mara couldn’t breathe, and when she tried to slip out from under the weight pressing her into the mattress, every muscle in her body cried a protest. Even her eyelids hurt, she thought as she forced them open. Creaking her neck to the left, she saw her husband’s face tucked into her shoulder. He looked so relaxed in sleep. So manageable.

  “Wake up, Cougar,” Mara whispered when she couldn’t budge him by pushing against his shoulders.

  His eyes cracked sleepily in response, and then widened to golden pools of slumberous remembrance as they traveled her blushing cheeks. “Good morning yourself.” He braced his weight on his elbow and dropped his lips to hers. His lips were sleep soft and tantalizing. Mara rubbed hers across the boldly masculine contours and sighed as hers parted beneath the lazy tap of his tongue, but then his hipbone pressed into her middle, and she was physically reminded of why she had awakened her lion.

  “I need to get up,” she whispered, separating their mouths.

  “Hun-uh.” Cougar shook his head, kissing the bold arch of her brows.

  “Afraid so,” Mara sighed, unloosing her arms from around his neck. “What’s more, you’re going to have to leave.”

  Cougar flopped back on the pillows. With the deep sigh only a completely satisfied male animal can emit, he shifted his big frame deeper into the mattress. “Not a chance.”

  Mara winced as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and her well-loved body connected with the mattress. “Wrong answer.” She countered as she tugged a sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her body. Every move was an effort and progress was slow.

  “I need privacy,” she stressed as she flipped the end of the sheet over her shoulder.

  “I see I’m going to have to indulge you in this bit of modesty,” Cougar grumped as he slid out of bed. Totally unconcerned about his nudity, he dropped a chastising kiss on the end of her nose.

  Mara was about to make a retort about correct behavior between husband and wife the morning after when a veritable flood of wetness ran down the inside of her thighs. Paralyzed with embarrassment, she stood there, eyes wide, desperately thinking on a way to get rid of her husband so she could deal with the mess.

  As if he knew about her predicament, Cougar cupped her intimately through the layers of sheet. His right brow cocked upwards as he felt the dampening material. “My seed,” he stated complacently.

  Mara had been sure that nothing Cougar could do would ever embarrass her again, but when he cupped her so possessively and boldly deduced her dilemma, she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

  Using the sheet, Cougar patted his wife’s thighs dry before sliding his hands beneath the cotton folds and staunching the flow with his palm. There was no denying the possessive pleasure in the action. With his free hand, he wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled until her head tilted back and her face was inches from his. “I like knowing your body is filled with my seed,” he whispered, slipping a finger inside her swollen warmth to explore the luxurious wetness. “Just knowing a part of me rests in this tender belly makes me hard.”

  The proof of his words pushed against Mara’s thigh. She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m too sore and achy,” she kissed his beard roughened cheek as he nibbled the taut cord of her neck.

  “I know,” Cougar concurred regretfully. “I can feel how swollen and hot you are.”

  Mara mumbled an inarticulate cry of dismay.

  Another flood of wetness leaked over Cougar’s hand. “Lord, woman!” He laughed softly. “It’s a wonder I didn’t drown you.”

  Mara swatted the hard masculine shoulder where she buried her flaming face. “Don’t sound so pleased.”

  “I want to see.”

  “No! Positively not!”

  She might as well have spoken to the wall. In the time it took for her to deny permission, Cougar was on his knees, separating the folds of the sheet. When his view was obstructed by her thighs, he pulled on her ankles until he was satisfied. Up the length of her body, he captured her gaze. “Do you know how much I love you? Right now, with the scent of our lovemaking so strong, and the evidence of last night so obvious?”

  Mara shook her head.

  Cougar pressed a tender kiss to the moist top of her pubic mound before getting to his feet. “Enough.” His voice rumbled from deep in his chest. “To order you a bath and to grant you that privacy you want.”

  Mara watched in silence as Cougar pulled on his pants and buttoned his shirt. One of these days, she vowed, she was going to develop the degree of outrageousness necessary to put her husband in his place. Right now, however, she’d settle for not withering away from embarrassment before he left the room.

  * * * * *

  The first pain hit when Mara was soaking in the tub. One minute she was stretching luxuriously in the steamy warmth, and the next, she was doubled over with the most agonizing pain she’d ever known. As it subsided, she caught her breath, only to release it in a splintering scream as another followed the first. Somewhere in her body, there was a release and then the water in the tub began to turn red with her life’s blood.

  The sound of his name being released in that bone-chilling scream had Cougar out of his seat and up the stairs before he even realized that he had moved. Millicent wasn’t far behind.

  When he tested the door and found it locked, Millicent spurred him on. “Break it down.”

  The door crashed to the floor as another of Mara’s cries rent the late morning peace. Cougar stared uncomprehendingly at the bloody bath where his wife huddled.

  Millicent took in the scene with a glance. “She’s losing the baby. Get her out of that water and onto the bed.”

  “The baby?” Cougar echoed.

  “Yes. The baby,” Millicent repeated harshly, giving him a shove as she raced for clean sheets. “And if you don’t get her out of that bath, you’re going to lose her, too.”

  “Never!” He would never let her go.

  “Not there, you dolt,” Millicent snapped as he went to lay her on the side of the bed. “Put her in the middle. She’s bound to thrash around. We don’t want her falling out of bed and complicating
matters with a broken bone.”

  He put her down in the middle. Mara doubled over with another wrenching pain. Blood spread in a bright red pool on the white sheet beneath her. Cougar had never seen so much blood in anything other than a fatal wound. He glared at Millicent. “Do something!”

  Millicent shot him a helpless glance, looked at the spreading pool of blood, put her hand on Mara’s forehead and said only one thing. “Go get Doc. Now.”

  He did. As if the hounds of hell were after him. Mara might be losing their baby because of him, but he’d be damned if she’d die. He wouldn’t let her. He wouldn’t let her leave him like this.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Land of Goshen! Are you cleaning that furniture or attacking it?”

  “A little of both,” Mara admitted, turning to see Pearl Washington standing in the doorway.

  “Aren’t you a little late, Pearl?” Millicent asked with a last swipe at the bookcase with her feather duster.

  Pearl grimaced as she removed her gloves. “Hetty Kittering marched in again today, loaded down with patterns.”

  Millicent snorted as she tossed the feather duster into a corner. “Is she still at it?”

  With great dignity, Pearl removed her hat. She handed it to Mara. “Thank you, Mara.” She settled her tall, lean form onto the settee before she continued, “That woman has the persistence of a gnat!”

  Millicent flopped into the cushioned rocker opposite. “And the taste of one to boot.”

  “Amen to that. That dress she decided on for her daughter’s wedding is the most atrocious thing I’ve ever seen.” She shuddered with restraint as she patted the seat beside her. “Come sit here, Mara. I’ve been thinking about your situation.”

  “Who hasn’t been?” Mara knew she was the talk of the town.

  Her impertinence earned her a frown from Pearl. “I have been thinking constructively on the situation.”

  “Are we on the subject of that idiotic son of mine?”

  “Come on in, Dorothy. Nice to see you again, Lorie,” Millicent greeted the new arrivals.

  “We are most certainly discussing your son,” Pearl said as Dorothy and Lorie drew up chairs.

  “Well, something has to be done about it,” Lorie agreed. She pulled off her gloves. “The man is a walking toothache.”

  “Let me take your hats and gloves.”

  “Thanks.”

  Conversation halted until Mara resumed her seat.

  “I appreciate all of your concern,” Mara began, “but I think it’s time for all of us to realize that Cougar has no intention of coming back for me. Even the town’s people aren’t buying the story anymore that he left me here to recuperate.” Mara bit her lip. For the first time, Mara admitted the unvarnished truth to herself with no excuses or pretty words. “He can’t forgive me for losing the baby.”

  “Horse shit!”

  “Stuff and nonsense!”

  “Bull feathers!”

  “They’ll be making snowballs in hell before that’s true.”

  Each exclamation reflected each woman’s upbringing, from Millicent’s crude denial to Dorothy’s softer version. All were different, but alike in their singular dismissal of Mara’s belief. Mara grit her teeth. “I admit I’d love to believe you all. You’re special friends, but after three weeks without a word, it’s time to admit the truth. A loving, forgiving man does not abandon his wife who’s just had a miscarriage to strangers and disappear from her life.”

  “Sure he does,” Pearl rebutted. The three older women nodded sagely.

  Lorie hesitated before giving her opinion. “He gave you the deed you wanted.”

  Mara snorted, a habit she’d picked up from her hostess. “Nothing more than a sop to his conscience for deserting me two minutes later.”

  “I’m with that man on a daily basis,” Lorie said. “That man loves you to hell and back.”

  “Then why isn’t he here?” Mara whispered the question that had haunted every second of her life since Cougar’s last visit.

  “That,” Pearl decreed royally, “is why we are all gathered here today.” She looked at each woman pointedly. “There are five women seated in this room. That’s more than enough to decipher the twisted thinking of one man.”

  “Probably wouldn’t take much more than one of us, actually,” Dorothy confessed in an aside to Mara.

  “But then, we wouldn’t have an excuse to call a meeting,” Millicent whispered into her other ear.

  “A meeting?” Mara echoed blankly. She looked at Lorie who just shrugged.

  Pearl waggled her eyebrows. “Womb!”

  Mara blinked, not sure she’d heard the dignified woman correctly.

  Millicent glanced at the clock on the mantle, and frowned. “Where in Hell is that Reverend? You did tell him three o’clock, didn’t you?”

  Pearl pulled herself up to her full height. She glared down the length of her nose at her friend. “Is three o’clock the time we agreed upon?”

  “You know it is as well as I do.”

  “Then three o’clock is what I told him.”

  “It was only a simple question,” Millicent muttered while Dorothy smothered a laugh behind a cough.

  “Don’t get your feathers into an uproar.” Pearl smoothed a crease out of her respectable gray skirt.

  “The Reverend Swanson will be here directly,” Dorothy assured the room in general.

  “Brad is coming here?” Mara asked in dismay. The last thing in the world she wanted was for Cougar to decide she’d found someone new.

  “Of course.”

  “Couldn’t have a meeting without him.”

  “Perish the thought!”

  Mara and Lorie exchanged bewildered glances. Lorie was the one with the fortitude to press on. “Since Mara and I are attending this meeting,” she began respectfully, “do you think we could be let in on just what,” she blushed as she continued, “Womb is?”

  There came a sharp knock on the back door.

  “That’s the Reverend, I expect,” Millicent said, pushing herself to her feet. “Why don’t you fill these two in on our little group while I show him in?”

  Pearl patted her bun in place before intoning loftily. “Women Outmaneuvering Male Bullheadedness.”

  Mara clapped her hands together as she understood the acronym. “W.O.M.B.!”

  Lorie laughed out loud. “I like it.”

  “Good,” Dorothy chuckled as two sets of heavy footsteps could be heard approaching. “If you like the name, I expect you’re just going to love the rest.”

  Millicent returned with Reverend Swanson in tow.

  “Ladies.” Reverend Swanson tipped his hat to the gathering. In his hands, he held a bulky package wrapped in brown paper. “I take it from the message I received this morning that another meeting of W.O.M.B. is about to take place?”

  “He knows?” Lorie asked as Mara squirmed uncomfortably on the settee. Pearl poked her in the ribs with her elbow.

  “Darn tooting.” Millicent relieved the good Reverend of his burden. “Couldn’t have a meeting without him.”

  “Would I be correct in assuming Cougar McKinnely is the impetus of this meeting?” Brad asked.

  “It’s not like we lack a surplus of targets with all the men in this town,” Dorothy grumped, “but right now, Cougar has done his damnedest to beat the rest to the head of the list.”

  “I’d probably feel sorry for the man, if I didn’t agree with you in this instance,” Brad confessed as Millicent handed him a basket draped with a white napkin. “Ah, my favorite payment.” Reaching into the basket, he pulled out a still warm sugar cookie. He waved it under his nose, savoring the aroma before he popped it into his mouth. Waving a second one in the air, he took up his earlier point. “The Good Lord knows, I felt sorry for your last victim. Old Man Clemence is a fine, upstanding man.”

  “He still is,” Dorothy pointed out.

  “Just more enlightened,” Pearl observed.

  “At least t
hose girls of his will be protected now.”

  Brad laughed outright. “Does anyone else know why Clemence changed his stand on the suffrage issue?”

  “Not hardly,” Pearl declared.

  “And they’d better not, either,” Millicent warned.

  Brad held up his cookie like a shield. “If anyone does find out, it won’t be from me.” He slanted Dorothy a considering glance. “Tell me, my dear woman, how did you get Doc to convince Clemence that he had a life-threatening disease?”

  Mara, whose head had been on a swivel ever since Reverend Swanson walked into the room, was surprised to see the “dear woman’s” face burn red.

  “I have my ways.”

  A smile, entirely too wolfish to sit on a reverend’s face, spread across Brad’s lips. His “I’m sure you do,” had Dorothy choking on embarrassment.

  Millicent whacked her on the back. Lorie caught her before the blow could knock her to the floor.

  Pearl’s eyes drifted to the brown wrapped bag on the end table. “If you’ve finished embarrassing the tar out of Dorothy, Reverend, I believe it’s time for you to go.”

  Brad tipped his hat to each lady present. When he got to Mara, he winked. “Don’t you worry, Mara. You put your faith in these women, and you’ll be back with that man of yours faster than Calvin can spit.”

  Knowing Calvin Wyatt prided himself on his ability to rattle a spittoon six times a minute, Mara was a bit dubious, but she smiled her thanks anyway.

  Brad’s “I’ll see myself out,” no sooner faded than the neat parlor was a flurry of motion.

  “I’ll get the glasses.”

  “I’ll get the cards.”

  “And I,” Pearl said, brandishing the mysterious package high. “Have got the whiskey!”

  * * * * *

  Three hours later, the prim and proper parlor had all the earmarks of a saloon. The scent of lemon oil blended with whiskey fumes and the stench of cigar smoke. Five women sat hunched over a round table, their cards held close to their chests. Pearl had a cigar clenched between her teeth. Dorothy shot it several sharp glances, but beyond waving her hand in front of her face now and then, she held her tongue. Mara figured that was due more to the scowl on the woman’s face than to politeness. Pearl, Mara had discovered early on, took her cards seriously.