Calinda and Lynx went riding after breakfast, to return later for a picnic lunch to carry to the pond. Calinda raced upstairs to retrieve her outfit for swimming; Lynx took care of another task. While they were gathering needed items for their outing, Salina set one of her plans into motion before packing the envious basket…
Lynx tied the basket and other bundle to his saddle and mounted. He grinned at Cal and challenged, “Beat me to the pond and you can share my lunch.” With that playful statement, he clicked his tongue and raced off toward the end of the corral to wait at their starting point.
Calinda jumped into the saddle. Before she could knee her chestnut roan, he frantically pawed the ground and reared, flaying his hooves in the air and neighing in outrage. The saddle shifted to the right and Calinda was thrown to the hard ground. Manuel ran forward and grabbed the horse’s reins before he could trample her legs. Before anyone could notice, he furtively removed the burr which he had planted beneath her saddle. He quickly removed the loosened saddle and tossed it aside, then guided the animal over to the fence and tied his reins.
Salina’s first cousin went to Calinda to assist her. “Are you all right, Senora Cardone? Anything broken?”
Seeing the incident, Lynx came racing back to her, hopping off Star’s back and rushing to his fallen wife. “What happened? Are you hurt, love?” he inquired apprehensively, kneeling beside her.
Calinda was still struggling to breathe, the wind knocked from her lungs by the heavy thud. Finally she nodded. Lynx helped her to stand. She rubbed her right hip and winced. “Just banged up a bit. The horse went crazy when I mounted, then the saddle slipped.”
“Didn’t you check it after our ride? You know it loosens after a swift run and good sweat,” he chided her perilous oversight.
“I did check it after we returned. It was snug. Why would he act like that?” she inquired, nettled by his scolding, suspiciously eyeing the contented beast at the fence.
“I’ll check him out,” Lynx said, then went to see if there was a problem. He examined the saddle and found nothing. He studied the horse for any injury. Manuel had wiped the spot of blood from the sharp burr, leaving no evidence of its previous presence to alert Lynx.
“Everything looks fine,” he told his sore wife.
“Except me,” she retorted. “My fanny feels terrible.”
“Think I should fetch the doctor to check you over?”
“Don’t be silly. It wasn’t my first fall, and won’t be my last. What I need is a soothing swim. How about I ride with you?” she asked.
He grinned. “That’s the craziest trick to finagle a ride, woman.”
“Got to get your undivided attention some way,” she teased, attempting to restrain her wild imagination. Who had intentionally loosened her girth?
He chuckled as he helped her mount behind him. “Slowly, love, no slapping this sore rear with a bouncing pace,” she hinted merrily.
At the pond, Lynx eyed her closely and questioned, “Are you sure you aren’t hurt, Cal?”
“Just my pride and seat. Somebody loosened that saddle, Lynx,” she informed him unexpectedly, thinking it wise to air her suspicion.
He stared at her. “Come on, Cal. Who would do that?”
“I don’t know, but someone did. I checked that girth and tightened it. You were standing there watching me, remember?”
“I saw you lift the stirrup and work with it. Are you sure you tightened it, not loosened it?” he asked, fretting over her charge.
“I get thrown and you don’t care. I tightened the damn girth! Forget it!” Cal snapped, heading for the water with a limp.
He surged forward and halted her progress. “If you’re certain, Cal, I’ll check into it. I’ll ask Manuel if he saw anything.”
Her face brightened, then glared coldly. “He’s Salina’s cousin, isn’t he?” she asked suddenly, her mind spinning with that idea.
“Yes, why?” he inquired curiously.
“Nothing. Let’s go swimming. I’m hot and achy.”
“Just a minute, woman. What were you hinting at?”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d accuse that little witch of pulling this trick,” she heatedly announced, lightly rubbing the sensitive area. “She has been nice lately, but…” she halted pensively.
“You’re wrong, Cal. Manuel’s been with us for years. Why would he let Salina get him fired? Or worse, beaten by me!”
“Salina’s been here for years, too,” she responded irritably. “Maybe her truce isn’t so peaceful and sincere. She did flip sides very easily.”
“I’ll question Manuel tonight,” Lynx told her, dismayed.
“No, let it ride. But I’ll be watching both of them from now on,” she decided aloud. If Manuel and Salina weren’t behind this accident, that left only Lynx. For certain, it wasn’t her oversight! Why was she always in trouble when he came around?
As Cal removed her boots and socks, Lynx observed her. If he didn’t know any better, he might think she suspected him. She could have been injured badly. She wouldn’t risk death or broken bones to gain his attention, not when she already had it. Surely it was a freak accident. Then again, maybe he should check out this curious event. Hopefully she hadn’t deceived him yesterday with her revelations of the letters. Hopefully she hadn’t learned of Salina’s mischief and sought revenge by implicating her.
As he removed his own boots, he scolded himself. What was wrong with him? Too many years of loneliness, cynicism, and wariness. If he couldn’t trust his wife, he couldn’t trust anyone. Clearly, someone was trying to harm her, and he would discover who and why.
Her right side throbbing, Calinda merely played in the water for a time. She left the refreshing liquid to lie on a blanket in the sun, turning to her stomach to allow the sun’s warmth to dry her clothes and to relax the stiffening in her right buttock. She wanted to dismiss her suspicions, but she couldn’t. Too many past perils added to this one to alarm her. Who was behind them? Why? It was possible for Salina to be involved in this one, but not the others. Perhaps she was jumping the gun by accusing Salina and Manuel…
Lynx came over to join her, lying down beside her prone body. He moved her lengthy hair aside and nuzzled her neck. She squirmed and giggled. “I hope your passions aren’t as fiery as the sun’s heat, my love. I refuse to place this hip against the hard ground,” she teased.
“Maybe I can think of something,” he playfully hinted.
Without lifting her head, Calinda peeked through curls fallen over her face. She smiled in amusement. “Always hungry, aren’t we?”
He pushed aside the flaming locks which blocked a clear view of her lovely face and compelling eyes. His left arm went across her shoulders as he laid his face near hers. “Yep,” he cheerfully agreed.
She shifted to her left side and curled against him, kissing the tip of his nose, then gingerly bit the strong chin. “You know, you’re delicious,” she said provocatively.
He turned to his right side and drew her closer to his stalwart frame. As she snuggled into his possessive embrace, the furry mat on his chest pillowed her damp head. Her fingers wandered through it as if passing through golden dried grass upon firm soil. Her hand roamed over his broad shoulder and slipped under his arm to fall over his side. She listened and thrilled as his heart-rate increased. She was intoxicated by her effect on him. How could her contact and simple actions stir his passions so fiercely? The same way his affected her! When she was in his arms, she felt so loved and protected, so barren of any thought but him. In his close proximity, no haunting enigmas existed, no riddles haunted her mind, no uncertainties harassed her heart. Was it safe and wise to love so strongly, gullibly, and deeply?
When she moved and groaned, he asked tenderly, “Hurt much?”
“Yep,” she insouciantly answered. “It’s only a bad bruise; it should be better by tomorrow or Monday.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” he wailed humorously.
“If I can
wait around for weeks to be with you, my love, surely you can manage a day or two for me,” she taunted his disappointment.
“Right now, I’m having a helluva time, but tonight will be easy.”
“How so?” she mocked his alleged control later.
“I promised Rankin I’d set a trap for those fence cutters. We’re losing too many cattle to them. If I get home tonight, it’ll be late.”
“Lynx!” she shrieked in annoyance. “You were gone all day yesterday, and you just got home.”
“In your condition, it might be wise to sleep out,” he jested.
“What happened to friend, as well as lover?” she taunted.
“You think I could hang around you for that long without touching you?” he murmured skeptically. “Besides, it’ll be our ranch one day, Cal. We have to protect our property. Who knows, perhaps one of those rustlers sneaked up and tampered with your saddle, hoping to send my thoughts in your direction instead of theirs. I don’t like having bandits this close to my woman and home; I want them gone before I am.”
She smiled and caressed his cheek. “Then you’d best hang around and protect both,” she sweetly suggested.
“I plan to,” he said. “Ready to eat?”
“I don’t think I can sit up yet.”
“Then I’ll feed you lying down,” he solved her problem.
They rested on their stomachs with elbows propped, eating the sumptuous fare and drinking wine. “Who’s the thoughtful one?” she inquired, nodding at the wine and glasses.
“Me, naturally,” he stated proudly. “While you were upstairs.”
They enjoyed the romantic setting another two hours before heading home. After a lengthy span in a tub of hot water, Lynx asked, “Think I should rub some liniment on that lovely backside?”
“Don’t you dare touch it,” she declared fearfully.
“Let me have a look,” he insisted, removing the bath sheet from her slender body. He walked behind her and gazed at the large area of blackish blue. “Lie down on the bed, Cal. This needs to be checked. You sure nothing’s broken?”
She followed his gentle order, stretching out on the soft mattress. “This might be touchy, love; bear with me,” he coaxed.
She clenched her teeth as he probed her hip-bone. He shifted down to her upper thigh and examined it, then up to check her ribs. “Move to your left side, then wiggle it back and forth,” he instructed.
She did so, but muttered how foolish she felt. “Any sharp pains when you move it around?” he inquired.
“Just soreness,” she replied through gritted teeth.
“It doesn’t seem broken, but there could be a crack. I think it’s best if you stay in bed for a while,” he concluded cautiously.
“That’s the craziest trick to wrangle me into bed,” she teased.
He frowned at her, then chuckled. “Since you’re new at this set-up, I should tell you that a wife always obeys her husband.”
“Is that a fact? Where is that marital law written?”
They both laughed. “You just want me out of everyone’s hair. Think I’ll be irritable and obnoxious?” she murmured coyly.
“I hope you’ll be frustrated as hell,” he sassily stated.
“Then, you’re wasting your time, love; I already know that uncomfortable feeling. And you’re to blame.”
“Me?” he hinted beguilingly.
“You probably loosened that girth to keep me confined while you work all night,” she speculated, her hand covering her giggling mouth. “If you want to trap me in bed, you shouldn’t do it with a hindering injury.”
“Not a bad idea, but too rash. I want you in bed, but not disabled. Think a hot, wet cloth will help ease the aching?”
“I can picture me lying here naked with a bandage on my rear.”
They burst into shared laughter again. “Sounds appealing to me.”
“You, Lynx Cardone, are a brute,” she charged as she gingerly rolled to her back, the bed cushioning the injury.
He leaned over and kissed her, stealing her breath. “But a nice one,” he debated, trailing his fingertips over her breasts.
She captured his enticing hand and playfully bit the area between his thumb and forefinger. “Ouch,” he shrieked as if hurt.
“With an injury like that, you should be put straight to bed.”
“You dangerous and wily vixen. I’d spank you if that lovely rump could take the earned punishment.” His eyes glowed with deviltry.
“Do I get served dinner in bed?” she inquired, smiling at him.
“Food only,” he mocked her double entendre.
“Yes, master dear,” she pouted.
Lynx set a small table near the bed and placed her dinner on it. When she asked why he couldn’t eat with her, she learned he was leaving to set his rustler trap. He kissed her and asked if she needed anything else. She sighed and shook her head. He kissed her again, this time a lengthy and sensual span. When Calinda wildly responded, he drew back and inhaled with a shudder. “You’re a tormenting hussy.”
“I know,” she flippantly responded. “But you love me anyway.”
“Damn right, I do. I best git while I can.” He flashed her a woeful grin and left.
Calinda picked over her meal, then read. When Salina came for the table and dishes, the Mexican girl inquired about the fall. Guarded, Calinda astutely claimed it was a silly accident. From now on, she would keep her eyes and ears open.
Most of the night, Cal varied between quick naps and restless tossings. Once she awoke in a cold sweat, a nightmare torturing her: she could see those flaying hooves descending toward her helpless body, crushing her time and time again. Twice she got up and walked around to loosen taut muscles. When she returned to bed the second time, the door opened and Lynx slipped inside. It was five in the morning.
“Can’t sleep, love?” he inquired worriedly.
“Now I can,” she decided aloud, cuddling up to him on her left side, her arm lying over his iron-muscled chest. “Any success?”
“Nope. It’s like they were warned off tonight. We’ll try it again tomorrow night after we check around for a scout.”
“Must you?” she asked.
“I’ve already explained, Cal. Don’t make me go through it again. It’s late and I’m exhausted. Can you slide over? It’s too hot to snuggle,” he growled, feeling frustrated and tense.
“It wouldn’t be too hot if I weren’t injured,” she snapped, hurt.
“Why the hell do you think I’m so hot and miserable? I’ve been at boiling level all day. It’s got me edgy. Woman, I need you,” he confessed in a hoarse voice. “Do you know how you get to me?”
She smiled to herself. Her hand played over his flesh as it drifted downward to comprehend his aroused state. “Please, Callie, don’t,” he pleaded huskily, tremors passing over his body.
“You said you would think of something,” she reminded him.
“You’re hurt, love,” he argued at his raging passion.
“Some pains are worse than others,” she rebutted.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Cal,” he reasoned, his body aflame.
Abruptly Calinda recalled their sensuous adventure in the watershed. She threw the sheet aside and walked to the armless rocking chair. “Come over here, Lynx,” she requested warmly, feeling wonderfully wanton and brazen.
“Please, Callie,” he entreated.
“Shut up, my love, and come here,” she commanded sternly.
When he reluctantly indulged her, she told him to sit down. “What are you doing, woman?” he asked, taking his seat.
“Remember that day in the tub?” she hinted, then sat in his lap, each of her legs crossing one of his. She boldly and bravely grasped his manhood and slipped it within her eager womanhood. She eased forward to lock their bodies together, her feet pressing against the backs of the rockers. “Now, Lynx, the rest is up to you.”
He groaned in blissful torment. “You sure this won’t hurt you?” he as
ked, praying for a negative reply.
“Not enough to make me want to stop,” she said, leaning forward to seal her lips to his.
His arms encircled her waist as he carefully worked his pulsing shaft deeper into that inviting recess. As her lips tantalized his and her breasts threatened to burn his chest, he feared his manhood would explode instantly at the sheer ecstasy of her contact. As he began to move gently, the rocker swayed back and forth to match his steady rhythm. When her lips strewed kisses over his face and nibbled at his ears, his head fell back against the chair. He thought he would go wild with rapture when she seductively writhed her hips against his flaming torch. When her mouth returned to his, she seemingly devoured it with feverish savagery, her tongue outlining his lips several times.
“Merciful heavens, Callie, you’re killing me,” he moaned.
“Can you think of a better way to die, my love?” she reasoned, her breath warm in his ear as she nipped gently at his lobe.
“Never,” he agreed, laboring to sate this desire before her position became unbearable to her. Soon, love’s fiery heat was washing over him as the potent spasms staggered his control.
Exhausted and appeased, his hands rested on her thighs, his head leaning back against the chair as he sought to master his rapid breathing and pounding heart. She drew a chuckle from him when she nonchalantly said, “You owe me one, love. I won’t let you forget it.”
“Nothing could repay such generosity, love,” he debated.
“Your love can and does, Lynx,” she freely admitted.
“Then you have no debt against me, for I love you, Calinda Cardone.” He pulled her tightly against him, holding her for a long time. Such love and tenderness filled him, warmed him.
“Now, can I snuggle?” she teased, laughing softly.
“Now, you can do anything you please.”
He lifted her and carried her to bed. For the next seven hours, they were lost to reality and fate’s demands.
First Love Wild Love Page 36
