Thunder on the Plains
Page 55
“Why?”
She looked up at him, fire ripping through her at being so close to him in this room of all places. “You know why,” she whispered.
“Because you think I don’t love you? I might be damn mad, Sunny, but I never stopped loving you.” His voice was tender, the words spoken softly to keep from disturbing Bo. “I spent most of the day by that creek, Sunny, thinking about all this. I don’t want to be a part-time father. I want to be with my son all the time, and I want to be with you all the time. We both made a serious mistake letting other things come between us the last time, and I wanted so much to hate you. But part of this is my fault, too, and when I saw you standing there, holding my son—”
She turned her face away, tried to pull away from him, but Colt held her fast. “You said you still loved me, Sunny. I was ready to do it like you said, have visitation rights and all, but I want us to be a real family. I lost one family. I don’t want to lose another.”
“You’re saying that because of Bo. It isn’t me you want—”
“It is you I want! I didn’t want to admit it, but I can’t leave it this way, Sunny.”
“Don’t use me, Colt,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to think of me like my mother.”
He held her arms tightly and lightly shook her. “Stop it, Sunny!” He said in an angry whisper. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself that way again! You’re Sunny Landers, a beautiful, good woman in your own right.”
She raised her eyes to meet his own, thinking how wonderful he looked by the light of a dim lantern she kept in the room so Bo wouldn’t wake up to darkness. She wondered how a man could get more handsome as he got older, wondered how, after twelve years, she could still feel the way she did that night she left him at Fort Laramie, so full of love and fire.
Colt traced a finger over the scar on her cheek. “I would never, never hurt you like this,” he told her. “I love you, Sunny, much as those words have gotten me into a hell of a lot of trouble in the past. I feel like I’m taking a hell of a risk, but I’m not letting you get away this time.”
She studied his eyes, so afraid to believe. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Colt? You wouldn’t deliberately fool me just to hurt me? I know how much I hurt you.”
He felt her trembling. “You know me better than that. All I want is for us to be a family, the way it should be. When I think how fast the last twelve years went by—twelve wasted years—” He shook his head. “Life’s too short, Sunny, to spend it worrying about how to hurt each other more.”
She clung to his shirt. “After all we’ve been through, it scares me to think about trying again.”
He smiled softly. “You think I’m not scared? I’d rather face those cattlemen again, maybe even go back to war. I’m probably headed for a new kind of war, but I can handle the enemy, Sunny. That’s where you have to trust me.”
She reached up and touched the scar over his eye, put there by the Pawnee so many years before. He had fought them in revenge for his wife and son’s deaths. “Yes,” she answered. “I believe you can handle any enemy you face, even the kind in silk suits and top hats.” Her eyes teared. “Do you have any idea how much I love you? I’m so sorry for all of it, all the years I fought my feelings for you.”
“I was just as guilty there.”
He was so close. How could their lips not touch? How could the passion not still be there when they did? His kiss was deep and lingering, from a man hungry for the only woman who could truly satisfy him. He backed her to the bed, searching her mouth as he gently laid her back. His kisses grew hotter, his whole body more urgent.
Sunny whispered his name, and magically she felt her dress and shoes come off. What was this spell he cast on her? She kissed his throat, his chest, untying his tie, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off his shoulders. He sat up and took it all the way off, and their eyes held in another brief moment of hesitation before he bent down to kiss her breasts lightly, fuller now from having nursed a baby.
“Colt,” she whispered. “It’s too soon, too sudden.”
“No,” he replied, untying her camisole and pushing it open. “It’s been much too long for both of us.” He tasted her taut nipples, shivering with the thought of bedding her again, the woman he had made love to so many times over the years in his dreams.
He moved down, and she lay trembling as he pulled off her drawers and stockings, kissed her thighs, kissed that most intimate part of her that had belonged to him first, his lips trailing back over her belly and breasts. He smothered her with more hot kisses, his tongue searching her mouth while his fingers found their mark. He felt her own fire burning his already-hot skin, felt her sweet moistness on his fingertips, felt that magical spot that was swollen from desire. It was so satisfying to touch her there again, to feel her breasts against his naked chest, to hear her whisper his name in ecstasy.
Sunny wondered if she might die from the joy of the moment, to think he still loved her, in spite of how she had hurt him. Her beautiful Colt was touching her again in that exotic way only he knew to touch a woman. His fingers worked in a circle of fire until she felt the throbbing release deep in her belly.
He rose to quickly remove the rest of his clothes, and Sunny kissed his chest and back as he did so, wanting to touch him and taste him and make sure this was real. “Tell me this isn’t wrong, Colt,” she asked, tears in her eyes. He turned, his eyes moving over her nakedness, eyes that had always so easily undone her.
“It isn’t wrong. Making love was the most right thing we ever did, Sunny, and it’s right now.” He crawled on top of her, grasping her by the waist and scooting her farther up on the bed. “I didn’t plan any of this. I don’t know what happens to me when I get near you, Sunny, but you make me crazy.”
She closed her eyes and drew in her breath as he moved between her legs. He kissed her eyes, her nose, the scar on her cheek.
“That bastard,” he whispered. “Let me take it all away, Sunny.” His lips moved over her throat, hot skin touching. He met her eyes, and she saw the look of pride and ownership there. “Do you know what it was like for me, knowing you were with him?” he groaned. “Tell me you never wanted him,” he whispered, licking and tasting at her mouth again.
Her tears flowed freely. “I never wanted him,” she answered, “not like you. I don’t even want to talk about it.”
“Shh.” He kissed the scar again. “We won’t then. You’ve never belonged to anyone but me, and that baby over there is proof of that. We have a son, and we belong together. We’ve belonged together for twelve years, but we were both too stubborn and too stupid to let ourselves believe it.”
She gasped when he suddenly entered her, pushing deep and hard. He grasped her hair, part of him hating her for letting Blaine O’Brien do this to her, another part of him loving her for the reasons she let it happen. He would make up for the awful beating, would remind her a man could be gentle, remind her who her first man had been, who her only man would be from then on.
Sunny groaned with shivering ecstasy to know he was in her arms again, reclaiming her, reawakening all the passion she thought she would never feel again. It was more glorious than the first time, so much more meaningful. This was the father of her child, her only true love, the man she had loved for so long.
Too quickly his life spilled into her. He rested his cheek against her own, whispering close to her ear. “Just lie still. I want to stay inside you.” He kissed her neck, and it was then she felt his own tears against her skin.
“Colt, my precious Colt, I love you so,” she wept. “It feels so good to say it again.”
“We’ll stay here all night,” he whispered, kissing her again, running his tongue deep while he searched her depths, reclaiming her for himself. He left her mouth and kissed her eyes, those blue eyes that made him crazy. “I’ll never get enough of you
, ever again,” he groaned. “I want to make love all night, Sunny, touch you, taste you, love you hard and deep, explore every part of you, make up for all the lost time.”
She arched up to him as again he began moving rhythmically. Her every breath came in gasps of passion, his name whimpered with every thrust. He was back in her arms, back in her life. She would let him ravish her tonight, let him take back every inch of her, every part of her. She had always belonged to this man alone, and nothing had ever changed that. She vowed that from then on nothing was going to keep her from having him. Nothing was going to keep Bo from his father. This time was forever.
Her train had been pulled to a side track, and outside another train rumbled by them on the main track, its whistle crying into the night, its wheels thundering rhythmically. Sunny thought how fitting it was that it passed while she lay in the arms of the young scout who had first guided her father west to show him the best route for a transcontinental railroad. In a few days the dream would be a reality, but it was no longer her first and most important dream. That one was right there in her arms, and he would share her bed and her body for the rest of the night, and for the rest of her life.
***
There was only one church in Cheyenne, and it was Methodist. By two o’clock it was packed to overflowing with citizens of Cheyenne who had picked up on the rapidly spread rumor that their deputy sheriff was going to marry the wealthy widow, Sunny Landers O’Brien. Many had come simply because they knew and liked Colt, others out of sheer curiosity. Stories flew about how two such drastically different people had ended up together, and people gossiped that the fancy Mrs. O’Brien must have been taken by Colt Travis’s rugged handsomeness, saying that eastern women couldn’t resist western men. Others whispered about the fortune Colt was marrying into. Did he love the woman, or was he taking advantage of her fascination in him in order to get his hands on her wealth?
Those who knew Colt personally, including Rex Andrews and his family, were certain that for a man like Colt it could only be love. Andrews could still hardly believe Sunny O’Brien’s son was Colt’s own child. The sheriff stood at the front of the church as Colt’s best man, still trying to comprehend the fantastic tale Colt had told him. Vi stood to his right as matron of honor for what would be a simple wedding, one that had been hastily planned. Neither Sunny nor Colt was going to let one more day go by without finally being husband and wife.
Vi was glad for Sunny, loved Colt for his amazing capacity to forgive. She glanced at Vince and Eve, who sat in a front pew of the little church, both of them looking angry and disgusted. Vi was sure they thought themselves too good to be sitting in the crude little chapel in the town of Cheyenne, where last night they had heard laughter and piano music coming from its many saloons. But Vince knew better than to raise a fuss. Sunny had ordered him to attend with his children and to act as though he were enjoying every minute of it.
Mae sat with Vi’s children, holding little Bo, who was dressed in a little suit and behaving himself amazingly well for a child who was usually packed with energy. Vi scanned the gawking crowd, smiling at how people literally hung over the railing of the small balcony above. People were crammed along the walls and some even waited in the church foyer, more standing outside the open doors and beyond.
An old woman began plunking out the wedding march on a piano, and people began whispering and pointing again when Colt stepped through a door at the front of the church, followed by the minister, Reverend Harold Shores. Even Vi stared this time, taking her eyes from Colt only long enough to glance at Vince, who she could tell was himself surprised and impressed. Never had anyone present seen Colt Travis look the way he looked today. Vi wondered how he had managed to find such a fine-looking suit in a place like Cheyenne, but then, she had learned that out in these western towns people were amazingly ingenious at getting modern goods from the East. Now that the railroad had come through, suppliers could bring in the latest gadgets and the newest fashions.
She raised her chin and smiled smugly at Eve, thrilled that Colt had shown he could be a man of taste and elegance himself when the occasion called for it. He wore a gray tailcoat, short-waisted in the front, with black satin lapels. The matching gray pants were the newer, tighter-fitting style, and he wore a white shirt with a gray and black brocade vest and a black tie. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he had stepped out of a fine men’s shop in Chicago, or was another U.P. executive on his way to a dinner party.
Colt moved his eyes to look at Vince, whom he had not seen or talked to since the family’s arrival at Cheyenne yesterday. The look he gave Vince caused the man to redden slightly and quickly look away. Vince Landers would not soon forget the beating Colt had given him after Sunny married Blaine. He had a slightly crooked nose now as a lasting reminder. He knew he had no choice but to accept this marriage, much as it stuck in his craw.
The whispers grew louder when Sunny and Stuart came out from a small room off the foyer. The old woman at the piano, borrowed from a saloon, played even louder, and people gawked with envy, all kinds of imaginings running through their heads about this strange match about to be made.
Sunny and Stuart headed down the aisle, and as soon as Sunny saw Colt, her legs felt weak. She grasped Stuart’s arm tighter. “Look at him, Stuart,” she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. She thought she had seen Colt looking his best at other times, but today he was showing her he could hold up to the best-dressed men from her world. She preferred him in buckskins or denims, but she knew why he had done this today. Colt Travis was not a man to be judged or ridiculed. He obviously had taste, and she wondered when he had gotten the suit and how much it had set him back. She almost laughed out loud at the thought that she was worried how much he might have spent. After today, what was hers was his. There would be no prenuptial agreements, certainly no talk of who would get what in case of a divorce. If she died, Colt and Bo would get all of it, and Vince could just live with that. She had every confidence that Colt was intelligent enough to step into control of anything she had, and strong and bold enough to face down anyone who tried to ridicule him or get in his way.
She was sensitive to his pride. He would want to contribute in some way, and she would find a way for him to be his own man within her world. He would not work for her, but with her; but she knew that he would always remain the rugged, honest man he was. He would not want to get too deeply involved. He would concentrate first on being a good father, taking Bo out for horseback rides, teaching him to hunt, teaching him the basics of survival. Colt Travis would never be a Blaine O’Brien or a Vince Landers, no matter how fancy the suit he wore; and she already knew that the fancy suits were something he would seldom be seen in. Today was special. Today he was showing her he was willing to take an active role in her world, just as she was determined to learn to let go and take more time to feel the freedom of his.
They could not take their eyes off each other. Colt had never thought her more beautiful, even though she wore a simple, pale yellow dress, surprising everyone in the congregation with her refusal to dress like the near queen that she was. Colt could see that Sunny, in turn, was showing him she was not always one to dress like a royal princess; that she could be just plain Sunny, the way he liked her best. Her hair was pulled back at the sides and brushed out long down her back, simple spring wildflowers pinned into it. Her dress had just a slight fullness to the skirt, a wide yellow sash accenting her slender waist, the perfectly fitted bodice trimmed with white lace at the high neck and at the cuffs of her long sleeves. She wore tiny diamond earrings, and on her right hand she wore Blaine’s diamonds out of respect for her first marriage. Her left hand was bare. Colt would place a plain gold band on her ring finger, and to her it would be worth millions.
Twelve years she had waited for this moment. Twelve years ago she had left Colt Travis standing by a campfire at Fort Laramie, loving him then, but never dreaming he would
one day be her husband, share her bed, father her child. All her girlhood fantasies were coming true in this one moment, in this tiny church in a rugged western town, far from Chicago and New York, far from board meetings and theaters and politics; and she knew that if her little empire should fold, it wouldn’t matter. She could live without all the extras, as long as she had Colt Travis at her side.
Stuart moved away and Colt took his place beside her. Sunny handed her bouquet of simple wildflowers to Vi, who was crying. Colt put an arm around Sunny then, taking her right hand in his own and holding it tightly, sensing that if he didn’t hang on to her at that moment, she might not have the strength to remain standing. He could feel her trembling, and she squeezed his hand tightly. What they had shared last night would take nothing away from how beautiful tonight would be. It was only the beginning of many nights together. Each was sure they would never be able to make love often enough for the rest of their lives to make up for the time they had lost.
He looked down into her stunning but tear-filled blue eyes as he spoke his vows, grinning teasingly and winking when he got to “for richer or for poorer.” It came Sunny’s turn, and a few women who didn’t even know her, including a few prostitutes who did know Colt, began quietly crying when Sunny could barely get out the words for her own tears. Her love for Colt Travis was obvious.
With shaking fingers Sunny slipped a gold band on Colt’s hand, making another pledge. Colt did the same, both rings purchased by them together at a local jeweler, simple bands that represented more love than the most expensive diamonds. The minister pronounced them husband and wife.
Sunny looked up at Colt, and he leaned down to kiss her. She put her arms around his neck and the kiss deepened. Colt slipped his own arms around her slender waist and lifted her, whirling her around, and the crowd in the church, made up of a few business people and respectable citizens, but peppered with a much bigger crowd of rowdy cattlemen, town drunks, prostitutes, saloon owners, and the like, burst into a din of shouts and cheers, a few men throwing their hats in the air. The minister’s eyes widened when the woman at the piano, whom he didn’t realize was an ex-prostitute who played nights at the Red Spur saloon, began pounding out a rowdy song of celebration.