CAROLINE AND THE RAIDER

Home > Romance > CAROLINE AND THE RAIDER > Page 30
CAROLINE AND THE RAIDER Page 30

by Linda Lael Miller

Caroline moved to sit on the step beside Ferris. She put an arm around him, embraced him briefly, then took the paper he offered. “Your father is clearly a fine man,” she said. “No doubt, he’s wise enough to choose his own wife, with little or no help from you and me.”

  The child’s clear blue eyes reflected stoic disappointment as he looked up at her. “I really miss my ma,” he confessed. Caroline would have kissed his forehead, but there were bounds and she didn’t want to overstep them. “I know exactly how you feel,” she said. Then she read the paragraphs Ferns had written.

  He would be a promising student, Caroline thought, but she must take great care not to become too attached to him.

  Chapter

  Guthrie had been clever in choosing a place to leave her, Caroline thought, that evening after supper, when she was alone in her room on the second floor of the ranch house. Under any other circumstances, she would have followed him, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave Ferris so abruptly, and Mr. Hayes had known that full well.

  After that, things fell into a natural pattern. Caroline worked with Ferris in the mornings, and in the afternoons he swam and did his chores around the ranch. There were no more hints that his father would make a good husband, but sometimes she caught the boy watching her with a yearning that tugged at her heart.

  Each day, she hoped for a letter from Guthrie or, better yet, his reappearance. And each day, she was disappointed.

  When a month had passed, she began to fear that he was never coming back. She hadn’t bled in all that time, and her abdomen was definitely beginning to swell, though it wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone else.

  Caroline wrote long letters home to Miss Phoebe and Miss Ethel, letters she didn’t dare mail. She wrote to her sisters, too, separately and together, telling them everything about her life, her hopes, her dreams. What she said to Lily and Emma, knowing they might never read the words, was what she longed to say to her guardians, who had mothered her in their sweet and spinsterly way.

  After another month went by, however, Caroline was beginning to panic. A doctor in town had confirmed that she was indeed expecting, and it wouldn’t be long until her condition was obvious to anyone who looked in her direction. What was she going to do if Guthrie hadn’t come back for her by then?

  She was sitting by the swimming pond one hot summer afternoon, pondering those questions, when she heard a twig snap behind her. Thinking it was Ferris, who liked to pretend he was a red Indian after a scalp, she stood and whirled, her hands resting on her hips, a lecture waiting on her tongue.

  But the visitor was Tob, and behind him, just barely visible through the trunks of the birch trees, was Guthrie.

  Caroline flew at him, hurling herself into his embrace, closing her eyes in a rush of emotion as his strong arms closed around her. His chin was bristly with maple-brown whiskers, and his hat and clothes were as disreputable as ever.

  He swung her around in his arms and then kissed her soundly.

  As her quicksilver emotions changed course, Caroline broke out of his clasp to beat at his chest with both fists. “Damn you, Guthrie Hayes,” she blurted out, when he gripped both her wrists and smiled down into her face, “where have you been?”

  He let go of her wrists to cup both hands under her now plump bottom, lifting her slightly and pressing her against him. His blatant physical desire made her cheeks heat. “It would take too long to tell you, Wildcat,” he sighed. “Suffice it to say, I’ve chased that ring-tailed mother—son of a bitch clear to the Mexican border and back. So far, he’s always managed to stay one jump ahead of me.”

  Tears filled Caroline’s eyes as her mood made another abrupt turn. Her hands clutched the back of Guthrie’s shirt and she gave him a little shake. “I thought you’d had our marriage annulled and left me for good,” she managed to say.

  Guthrie shook his head. “Once a marriage has been consummated, Wildcat, you can’t annul it. Practically all I’ve thought about for the last two months is consummating it again.”

  The birch trees and the pond made a sort of Eden, and Caroline felt no shame as she replied in a whisper, “Right here, Guthrie. Right now.”

  He laughed and shook his head again. “I’ve been on the trail for ten days straight, Caroline.”

  She was leading him toward the pond, having forgotten there was a ranch surrounding them, populated with people and cattle. It truly seemed to her that she and Guthrie were alone in the world.

  The smile left Guthrie’s face and his green eyes smoldered as he watched Caroline sit down on the failen log to begin removing her shoes. Although there must have been ten feet of space between them, she could feel his desire as distinctly as if he’d been holding her close.

  A little thrill went through her as she made a ceremony of lifting the skirts of her gingham dress and rolling down the white stocking beneath. Because she used a straight razor on her legs when she bathed, the flesh there was smooth as alabaster.

  Guthrie’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and he took a stumbling step closer. “Damn it, Caroline,” he protested in a hoarse croak. “Stop that.”

  She laid the stocking on the log beside her and began rolling down the other one.

  He seemed propelled toward her by some unseen hand. “Caroline,” he growled, narrowing his eyes.

  She stood and unbuttoned the front of the dress she’d made for herself, along with others, to keep herself busy during the long evenings. Her saucy, sidelong look dared him to object further.

  Guthrie tossed his hat aside with a muttered curse and sat down on the ground to pull off his boots.

  Laughing, Caroline finished stripping off her clothes and ran toward the sun-warmed, shimmering water of the pond, moving far out into the middle to watch Guthrie as he undressed and stomped into the pond. He was gloriously, furiously naked.

  “If half the ranch isn’t looking on,” he grumbled, splashing up beside her, “it’ll be no thanks to you!”

  Caroline approached him and put her arms around his neck. The water came to just above her breasts, even in the center of the pond, and the bottom felt squishy under her feet. “Kiss me again,” she crooned.

  Her husband scowled at her for a long moment, then hauled her against him and kissed her hard. When it was over, she fell back from him, dazed. One of her hands moved beneath the water, seeking him, wreaking sweet vengeance.

  He groaned as she caressed him, enjoying his magnificence.

  “Caroline,” he pleaded, “this place isn’t private. Half the hands on this ranch could show up at any minute, naked as jaybirds.”

  She laughed. “They’re all out on the range,” she said confidently. She traced his lips, which seemed a little swollen from the kiss they’d just shared. “There’s nobody around to see me without my clothes except you.”

  Guthrie’s sturdy frame stiffened. “That’s a very good thing,” he told her gruffly. “It means I won’t have to shoot some poor bastard.”

  Caroline laughed, still bedeviling him with her hand.

  “Oh, God,” Guthrie groaned, as she worked him more and more industriously. His head drifted back, and Caroline tasted his neck and then his earlobe. “If you don’t stop …”

  “I’m not about to stop,” Caroline assured him, in a lazy tone. “I want to see how much you’ve missed me.”

  Guthrie laid his hands lightly to the sides of her waist, his thumbs moving over the swelling place where their baby was growing. “I’ve missed you a whole lot,” he said. “But I want to be inside you when it happens.”

  They moved into the shadows of an overhanging willow tree, where they were hidden from all but each other.

  Gently, Guthrie lifted her, and she automatically wrapped her legs around his hips, needing the intimate contact that gave. When he began kissing his way down over her collarbone and the rise of breast beneath, Caroline moaned and tilted her head back.

  His access to her breasts was unimpeded, and he took full advantage, taking a nipple hu
ngrily into his mouth and sucking hard. At the same time, Caroline could feel him at the entrance to her body, pulsing against the tender, aching flesh hidden there.

  “I’m sorry, Wildcat,” he said, drawing back from her nipple just long enough to speak, “but I can’t wait anymore.”

  Caroline buried her face in his neck as he slowly lowered her onto him, making her work for every inch. She didn’t even need the friction; when he was fully inside her, Caroline came, her body buckling against his, his name tumbling from her lips in a long, joyous sob.

  He whispered soothing words as she settled into a languid state of satisfaction, then began raising and lowering her, seeking the same fierce delight from her body that she’d just taken from his. Caroline clung to him, her hands entangled in his hair, her lips moving over his neck and ear.

  When she told him how she was going to please him in bed that night, he gave a rumbling groan and stiffened, his shaft buried deep within her, his warmth sending her tumbling into the throes of another release. This one was unexpected, and it left her sagging against him.

  He spread his hand over her belly when they’d both had some time to recover. “We were right, weren’t we? There is a baby?”

  Caroline’s heart was full as she nodded. “Oh, yes. There’s a baby, all right. He’ll be born this winter.”

  She couldn’t tell whether the moisture in Guthrie’s eyes was pond water or tears, but he was smiling. Without a word, he bent his head and kissed her, this time tenderly.

  “If I’m going to take you to bed tonight, like a proper wife,” he said, when he was finished, “you’ll have to break the news to Roy that we’re married. Otherwise, he’ll shoot me for dallying with a female member of his household.”

  Caroline smiled and held up her left hand, revealing the golden ring gleaming on her finger. “I imagine he’s guessed,” she said. “I’ve been wearing your wedding band since about a week after you left.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I can’t wait until all this is over and we have a place of our own. I’m going to keep you in bed for the first six weeks.”

  She laughed. “You won’t accomplish much that way,” she scolded.

  Brazenly, his hand cupped her beneath the water, the palm massaging her most sensitive place. “Oh, no?” he teased.

  Caroline’s fingers sought his shoulders and tightened there, and she bit her lower Hp for a long moment before bursting out with a whispered, “Guthrie, stop—I need a few minutes …”

  His finger plunged inside her and began to tickle and tease. “Ooooooh,” she crooned.

  He leaned down to take the breast she brazenly offered him, all the while continuing the rubbing motion of his other hand.

  Caroline felt herself tightening around him, and her eyes rolled back as the pleasure caused her to spasm repeatedly. By the time she’d gone still, with a little whimpering sigh, Guthrie was ready for her again. He turned her, his hands covering her breasts, and glided into her feminine channel from behind.

  Soon, although she would have sworn it wasn’t possible after the pinnacles he’d taken her to before, Caroline was slamming herself against Guthrie, puffing like a steam engine as she strained toward release. The achievement wrung a low cry of triumph and surrender from her throat, and Guthrie caressed her breasts and spoke softly and wickedly to her while she writhed in grinding, impossible pleasure.

  Distant sounds of laughter and approaching horses gave them little or no time to recover from their explosive contact. Guthrie and Caroline had just barely finished dressing when Ferris burst through the trees, letting go with a soul-rendering Rebel yell.

  Obviously, he’d won some sort of race, but when he saw Caroline and Guthrie standing there, uneasy and wet in their awkwardly donned clothes, all the triumph drained from his eyes.

  “You’re back,” he said to Guthrie, sliding deftly off the back of his painted pony and leaving it to wander home on its own.

  Guthrie nodded, reaching for his hat and settling it on his head. “Hello, Ferris,” he said.

  Distractedly, Ferris petted Tob, who butted his head against the boy’s thigh until he got the attention he clearly considered his due. Ferris’s gaze shifted to Caroline’s face, and she saw such misery there that she wanted to cry for him.

  Guthrie set one hand against the small of her back, and it was a proprietary, intimate gesture. “We’ll leave you to your swimming,” he said, and then he was propelling Caroline through the trees toward the ranch house.

  Half a dozen cowboys arrived at the pond just as they were leaving, and Caroline wondered if Ferris was really such a fast rider or if the ranch hands had simply let him win the race. Guthrie responded to the men’s greetings with a grin, but he didn’t slow his pace.

  Ahead, Caroline could see his gelding standing patiently in front of the barn.

  She put her arm around his waist. “When are we leaving?”

  He looked down at her and frowned. “Maybe we’d better talk about that later,” he sighed.

  Caroline stopped, forcing Guthrie to stop, too. “We’ll talk about it now,” she said firmly. “You’re planning to ride off and leave me again, aren’t you?”

  Guthrie swept his hat off in a gesture of weary frustration and ran his sleeve across his forehead. “I’ve still got to catch up with Flynn,” he told her impatiently. “His trail led right back to Cheyenne.”

  “So that’s the only reason you’re here? Because you were coming this way anyhow?!”

  “Caroline—”

  “Don’t you ‘Caroline’ me, Guthrie Hayes. I won’t spend my whole life waiting here for you to favor me with your presence!”

  “Would you rather spend it in prison, Caroline?” he countered, gripping her upper arms and looking straight into her eyes. “Do you want to have our baby there?”

  “I’m not going to prison. You said so yourself.”

  “All right, so I did. But you don’t want to spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder and running from the law, do you?”

  Caroline swallowed and shook her head. If she and Guthrie had to flee to Mexico, she would never see her guardians again, and there would be no hope at all of finding her sisters.

  “Then I have to go. But I swear to you, Caroline, I’ll be back. We’ll raise this baby together and make half a dozen more while we’re at it.”

  Caroline’s eyes filled with involuntary tears. “You could be killed,” she reminded him.

  “If that happens,” he told her seriously, still gripping her arms, “I want you to stay right here. Roy is a good man. He’ll protect you and give you a good home.”

  “You make me sound like a stray puppy!” Caroline protested. “I don’t want to stay here forever, Guthrie. Besides, even Roy couldn’t protect me from the law.”

  “He’s a powerful man,” Guthrie responded immediately. “He could do more than you think.”

  “I don’t want to be married to anyone but you,” Caroline insisted, and Guthrie let her go with a heavy sigh.

  Later, while Guthrie was making use of the Loudons’ fancy bathtub, Caroline washed his other clothes and hung them out on the clothesline in the backyard. When she returned to the kitchen, Ferris was standing by the counter, drinking lemonade and eating Jardena’s oatmeal cookies. His blond hair was wet and his eyes were full of curiosity and hurt.

  “That’s Mr. Hayes’s ring on your finger,” he accused.

  Caroline was stunned. “Ferris, whose ring did you think it was?” she asked gently.

  “Pa’s, maybe,” the boy admitted. “I hoped you two might have gotten married in secret or something.”

  Her heart ached. So that was why Ferris had stopped campaigning for a wedding. “Surely your father would tell you a thing like that,” Caroline said softly. She wanted to touch his shoulder, but she didn’t quite dare.

  “He didn’t tell me Mama was dying,” Ferris replied, with an offhand shrug that didn’t fool Caroline for a moment. “He doesn’t tell me nothin�
��, except to feed and water the cows or pick up my boots or pay attention when you’re teaching me.”

  Caroline resisted the urge to correct his grammar. “When did your mother pass away?” she asked gently, pulling back a chair at the table, sitting down, and reaching for a cookie she didn’t want. She knew they should have talked about Mrs. Loudon before, but she’d avoided the subject, knowing it would be a painful one.

  Ferris glared at her for a moment, then sank into a chair opposite hers. “Three years ago. She’s buried on that little knoll west of the house, where the cherry tree grows. Pa and I planted it there because she loved the way cherry trees look when they blossom in the springtime.”

  Caroline’s throat thickened as she thought of all the sadness in the world. She reached out and took Ferris’s small, grubby hand in hers, and he didn’t pull away from her. “I don’t think you really want me for a mother, do you, Ferris?” she asked, with a gentle smile. “I’d be forever making you do sums and diagram sentences.”

  He grinned wanly, ran a hand through his still damp hair, and shook his head. “No, ma’am, Miss Chalmers. If I was a few years older, and you weren’t Guthrie’s wife, I reckon I’d be inclined to marry you myself.”

  She couldn’t resist. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, her eyes shining. “One of these days you’re going to grow up big and tall like your father. You’ll meet a pretty girl at some dance and your cranky old teacher will be the farthest person from your mind.”

  Ferris’s eyes took on a look of resolution, though, and he shook his head again. “No, Miss Caroline. I won’t ever forget you,” he said solemnly.

  Just then, Guthrie came down the rear stairway, wearing clean clothes he’d evidently bought in town. He was freshly shaved and his hair was a shade or two darker than usual because it was still wet.

  Ferns gave his father’s friend a meaningful glance and then left the kitchen without a word.

  “What’s bothering him?” Guthrie asked with a frown.

  Caroline sighed. “Nothing a little time won’t cure.”

 

‹ Prev