by Sharon Ihle
Cole's lips were pressed together so tightly his mustache obliterated his mouth. Inclining his head down the hall, he walked a few more feet then slipped a key in the lock of room seven. He pushed the door aside, leaving it open intentionally, then gestured for her to enter.
"I hope it suits you. This is the best hotel Phoenix has to offer."
Trying to conceal the wonder she felt from her lack of exposure to the world outside her home, Sunny stepped into the room and indulged her gaze with the sheer luxury of her accommodations. A large inviting bed dominated the room, its spread made of the same colorful chintz as the curtains hanging over a double window. Trellises of amber roses seemed to leap out of the beige paper covering all four walls, and a milk-white wash basin and pitcher awaited her on the dressing table.
"This is very nice, Cole," she managed to say as her gaze brushed over the crystal chandelier and came to rest on the steam rising from the claw-foot bathtub in the center of the room.
"Good. I'm glad you like it." He began backing out of the door, adding, "I'll let you take advantage of your bath while it's still hot. Bang on the wall if you need anything. My room is right next door." Cole pointed to the left, then pulled the door closed behind him.
Once inside his own room, Cole breathed a long sigh and stripped off his clothes. He sank into the warmth of the burnished copper bathtub and lay there, mindless, for several minutes. And then his thoughts returned, centered as they seemed to be of late, on Sunflower.
Had he been mad for bringing her to his town, his home? The reception she got from the desk clerk was a simple prelude to what might await once Nathan laid eyes on her. Maybe, he groused to himself, he'd made a mistake. Perhaps even though his plans had been to help her, he'd only added to her problems.
Just how honorable were his intentions, he suddenly wondered? If he'd had to spend another night on the trail with her cuddled up next to him, odds are he would have snapped, taken her like one of the wild animals their campfire sought to drive away. He might have behaved no better than the disgusting outlaw.
Scrubbing his scalp with a vengeance, Cole submerged his head in the tub and hoped somehow the act might cleanse away his lustful thoughts. But when he came up for air, he had a vision of Sunflower in her own bath. She would be soaped, her slippery body reclining, and her glorious hair would be floating beneath her like a cushion of ebony satin.
Cole leapt from the tub, frustrated, confused, and aroused. He needed a drink. He needed to put more distance between himself and the beautiful Indian maiden who called herself Sunflower Callahan. And, damn his wayward body, he needed her.
Back in room seven, Sunny had already washed from head to toe in fragrant lilac-scented soap, but she couldn't seem to pry herself from the luxury of the hot bath. Never had she felt so pampered, so spoiled. And it was all because of Cole. She rolled his name off her tongue, savoring the sound of it, then remembered Mrs. Brown's defensive remarks. How long before Cole would go to this Elizabeth? Was he on his way now, while she lay in the water like a stunned squawfish? The thought startled and troubled her. A special seed was growing between her and the rancher, something so wonderfully delicate that Sunny sensed the bud might easily wither before it had the chance to bloom. If only there were a way to detain him for a few more hours, a few more days, or weeks.
Several sharp raps against the door jolted her to a sitting position. She tried to calm the suddenly turbulent water, working unsuccessfully to dam a large wave as it spilled over the side of the tub and doused the floor. "Yes?" she called out, distracted.
"It's me, Cole." His voice filtering through the thin wood, he announced, "I'm going on downstairs to arrange a good hot meal for us. Take your time joining me and don't worry about a repeat of what happened the first time you were in the lobby. I'll be looking for you."
"All right," she sputtered, chuckling at her vain attempts to keep the water inside, rather than outside, the tub. "I will be down in a few minutes."
After Cole's footsteps faded down the hallway, Sunny reluctantly emerged from the comforting bath, and quickly dried her hair and tingling skin. Dressing carefully but quickly, Sunny slipped on her new undergarments, buttoned the sleeves of her new dress at the wrists, then fastened the bodice up to the lacy opening at her throat.
Thrilled with her image in the dresser mirror, she twirled and contemplated a new way to fix her loose hair. How did fine ladies convince their tresses to curl so uniformly? Surely they couldn't all have been born that way. With only a single yellow ribbon to aid her, Sunny didn't have many options. She chose to catch the length of her hair with the ribbon, then swooped the strands back' into a thick cascade and tied a bow at the top of her head.
Satisfied she'd done her best to look presentable in Phoenix society, Sunny glided out of the room and made her way towards the steep staircase.
Downstairs, a frustrated rancher complained, "I'm a tellin' ya, Fremont, Swain's herd is growin' mighty quick. I swear his cows have a calf every washday."
Cole laughed as he polished off the rest of his drink. He took another glance at the empty stairway, then answered his neighbor. "Like I told you, Tom. It's way past time for you to invest in fencing like the rest of us. That, and a damn good brand are the best ways to guard against these settlers and their 'borrowing' ways."
"Ah, hell, Fremont. 'Twixt the drought and all those damn squatters and their stinkin' sheep grazin' up the good grass, we didn't get diddly-squat for our herd. Where's the money supposed to come from for all that wire?"
There wasn't much Cole could say to assure the rancher. The past two years had been tough on everyone. Even the big ranches like the Triple F felt the blade of a depressed economy cut into their profits. "Have you checked with Harvey over at the bank? Maybe he could help."
"Come on, Fremont," Tom complained impatiently. "Even you couldn't get a penny out a that ole skinflint. He sits on his assets like a brood hen hatchin' her chicks."
"Well then, how about this," Cole offered without much conviction. "My brother-in-law, Buck Wheeler, is in Maricopa right now trying to secure a loan from Darvey Tymes. If he's successful, maybe he could put in a word for you."
"That'd be an idea. Why don't you have him—"
Tom left the sentence unfinished when he realized his words fell on deaf ears. His friend's mouth had dropped open and his gaze rested on something other than the frustrated rancher.
"Excuse me, Tom," Cole said with effort as he pushed his chair back from the table and rose. "I'll let you know what I find out."
Tom's reply was lost on Cole. All his attention and senses honed in on the vision descending the stairs. When Sunny gracefully swiveled as she reached the bottom step, then began to float across the room towards him, his breath caught in his throat and he froze.
Sunny noticed his peculiar expression, the strange waxy appearance of his flared nostrils. Was he angry again? What had she done wrong? She slammed her hands to her hips and came to a halt. "Faith and begorra, Cole Fremont. What does a girl have to do to be 'fixed-up' in your eyes?"
Still, he was speechless. During the past few days together on the trail, her brother's clothing had given him ample opportunity to study the outline of her long legs and curve of her well-rounded bottom. The tattered shirt encouraged glimpses of her full breasts, and the rope belt repeatedly brought his gaze to her tiny waist.
He had had no trouble imagining that beautiful body stripped of civilization's garments, but somehow the thought of her in a fine dress had escaped him. Had his father's prejudice colored his own viewpoint to the extent he could only think of her as an Indian squaw, not as a lady? If that were the case, he thought with sudden awareness, his attitude was no better than that of the desk clerk.
More crestfallen by his silence than indignant at his reaction to her, Sunny's voice became a whisper as she suggested, "Maybe it would be better if I returned to my room."
"No." Cole moved swiftly, catching her arm as she turned to walk away. "Plea
se, listen to me. You look so beautiful, so different." He recalled the way he felt when he saw her on the stairs and softly added, "You took my breath away."
Unaccustomed to such remarks, Sunny lowered her lashes and fumbled with a length of lace and ribbon tied at the front of the dress. Her cheeks grew warm as she tried to think of the proper response to his compliment, but her mind was as empty as a roadrunner's nest in winter.
Cole's strong hands stilled her busy fingers as he brought them to his lips and brushed them with a tender kiss. "Come on, little flower. Let's have supper. I'm so hungry, I could eat a side of beef."
With a short nod and nervous laugh, Sunny slipped her small hand in the crook of his arm and strolled, her head held high again, into the dining room. After they were seated, Cole raised two fingers, signaling the waitress, then settled back in his chair.
"I hope you like steak, Sunny. If you do, you're in for a taste of Triple F's finest Hereford stock."
"Oh? Your ranch supplies this hotel?"
"This and several other establishments in town. If all goes well, the Triple F will also be shipping to parts of California by next year." That is, he thought, if Maricopa County got some much needed rain and they could find a way to keep the homesteaders from crowding them out of any more precious grazing land.
Famished beyond caring about what she consumed, Sunny was equally hungry for more information on her handsome companion. She smiled across the table and said, "Did ranch business bring you to Yuma?"
"That," he nodded, "and a few other things." But he chose not to elaborate about the other things and instead explained the ranch's plans for the future. "The Phoenix and Salt River Railroad is due to be finished next year. It'll connect in Maricopa where we can pick up the Southern Pacific and run through Yuma all the way to San Diego."
Although she listened to the words, Sunny was more intent on watching Cole as he spoke. She loved how his mustache drooped past the corners of his mouth, treasured the way it hugged the upper curves and gave her a full view of his sensual bottom lip. She could still feel the heat of that mouth pressed against hers, remembered the surprising yet electrifying sensations when he drove his tongue into her mouth.
"Sunny?"
That sensual mouth was lop-sided now, grinning at her as if it knew exactly what she was thinking. With a start, she looked up into his amused eyes. "What?"
"Aren't you hungry?"
She glanced down at the table, astonished to discover a plate filled with steak, fried potatoes, and biscuits staring up at her. When, how, had they arrived?
"Oh, yes. I am." And with that strange heat tickling her cheeks again, Sunny spread a napkin across her lap and focused on her supper.
Aware of her embarrassment, guessing he had something to do with it, Cole gave her some privacy and turned his attention to the meal. But he found he was no longer interested in eating. He cut off a few chunks of meat and chewed them absently as his gaze returned again and again to Sunflower. She was radiant, practically glowing. Was it the hot bath? The new dress? Or, was it possible he made her blood run hot just by being in the same room with him? She certainly affected him in that way, he acknowledged as ripples of desire rolled down his belly.
Even the way she ate was an erotic experience. Sunny didn't nibble at her food or cut tiny pieces of steak only to leave most of them on her plate in ladylike fashion. She literally dove into the meal, relishing the taste and texture of each morsel, drenched her biscuits in rich honey, then licked the excess from her fingers with a sensuality that nearly drove him wild.
His senses heightened to the point where he could almost feel her tongue mimicking the gesture around his own fingertips, Cole's fist curled around his fork with enough force to bend it. She would be an absolute wildcat in bed. Instinct, coupled with that independent and curious nature of hers, would have her relishing each touch, every sensation possible, whenever she gave herself to her lover. The lucky man honored with the responsibility of educating this little beauty in the ways of lovemaking would be rewarded beyond his wildest fantasies.
Cole shuddered as an intense jealousy of the faceless man surged through him. He didn't have the right to be that lucky man. Would never have the right. Sunflower Callahan would belong to someone who held her dual heritage in high esteem, a man whose family would welcome her for the beautiful woman she was. A man like Charlie White, Pima Indian and blacksmith for the Phoenix livery stable.
A sudden picture of Sunny nestled in Charlie's arms turned Cole's blood to crystals of ice. Now that the man had a face, the surge of jealousy became a flash flood, cutting a gorge through his gut, his heart. With something that felt like anger, Cole slammed his fork to the table, then took a deep breath before he trusted himself to speak in a rational tone.
"If you're finished, I think we ought to go to our rooms now. We're long overdue for a good night's rest."
Her dark eyes wide, Sunny cocked her head. "But you have not yet finished your supper."
"I wasn't as hungry as I thought," he snapped.
Her hunger more than satisfied, a puzzled Sunny slid out of her chair. "I am ready to retire."
Cole tossed a few coins on the table, then escorted her through the lobby and up the staircase. The only overture he made after seeing her to her room was a gentle squeeze on her arm as he softly said, "Sleep well." Then he closed the door and was gone.
Sunny wandered over to the dresser, took a piece of licorice from the bag, and wondered as she popped the candy in her mouth if she had done something to annoy him again. She'd noticed the way he stared at her during their meal, knew instinctively the glazed look in his eyes had more to do with desire than anger. So what had happened? Why was Cole so difficult for her to understand?
She peeled off the new dress and petticoat, carefully draped them across a chair, then slid between the flannel sheets with a heavy sigh. Maybe she'd been right all along. This business between men and women—this love, mating, and marriage thing—was not for her. It was so hard to understand, so complicated. And, she thought with a heavy heart, it was beginning to hurt.
But she wanted him. Exactly what she wanted from him was still nebulous, but with each passing day it became a little clearer. For now, all she wanted was his touch, his silken mouth on hers, the sound of his rich voice murmuring in her ear. With a mind of its own, her tongue caressed the piece of candy, suckling it as her thoughts spread a warm ache throughout her abdomen and below.
Sunny finally drifted off to sleep with the licorice drop stuck to the roof of her mouth.
A short time later, she was brutally torn from a deep slumber by the sound of gunfire outside her window. She bolted upright in the bed and inclined her head towards the source. Angry voices punctuated the dark night. More shots were fired. At the same time, she became aware of boisterous laughter in the hallway. This was quickly followed by several loud bumps against her door. Then silence.
Unused to city noises, uncertain whether this was the norm or if she were in danger, Sunny jumped out of her bed.
She wrapped a thin blanket around her shoulders and scurried over to the door. She pressed her ear against the wood and listened. More silence. Either the men who'd stumbled down the hallway were gone, or they waited like patient buzzards for their prey.
Too nervous to stay alone any longer, Sunny opened the door a crack and peered down the hall. It was empty. Moving with featherlike steps, she hurried to the room next door and knocked several times.
"Cole," she whispered loudly. "Cole, wake up. It is Sunflower. Let me in."
When the door finally opened a cautious inch, she railroaded her way through the tiny opening.
"What the hell?"
Cole's sleepy protest was cut off as Sunny threw herself in his arms and buried her head in his shoulder. "I am frightened," she cried. "I cannot sleep in this town. This place is dangerous."
When he felt her body tremble against his, Cole closed the door and swaddled her in his strong arms. He, too, had
heard the gunshots, but undaunted by them, he'd drifted off to sleep as quickly as he had awakened. Sunny on the other hand, was obviously shaken, unfamiliar with the sounds of ranch hands cutting loose on payday. He would give her time to collect her wits, then escort her back to her room.
Calmer now that Cole was so close, Sunny leaned back and looked into his eyes. "I have changed my mind. I do not think I like your town of Phoenix after all."
Chuckling, he countered, "Have you ever spent the night in a hotel in Yuma?"
"No."
"Trust me, little flower. You wouldn't like it any better." Far too aware of her soft breasts rising and falling against his chest, of her heart thundering in time with his, Cole released her and stepped back.
"I doubt you'll be disturbed any more tonight. The sheriff has probably put the fear of God in those boys by now. I'll take you back to your room."
"You will not." She tugged the blanket tighter around her body and stepped further into the room.
"Do you want to stay here a little while longer?"
"I will stay here all night, Cole Fremont. I will not be alone in this hotel."
"But you can't do that," he objected, advancing on her.
"Of course I can, and I will."
"You will not."
"Why not? Have we not slept together these past nights on the trail?"
"Yes," he grumbled, "but this is different. It just wouldn't look right."
"Then," she said with a wink and a curve of her mouth, "we simply will not allow anyone to look."
"Oh? Oh, really?" he finally said, unable to come up with a logical retort.
"Yes. Really."
Her smile triumphant, Sunny spun around and marched over to the bed. "Now, which side do you wish to sleep on?"
Cole pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes as Sunny cast her blanket aside to reveal a low cut camisole and long ruffled drawers. When she actually climbed between his sheets, he rolled his eyes towards the heavens and spit out a muffled curse.
The pristine girl really meant to climb into his bed and actually expected they would sleep? Maybe what he ought to do was climb in there with her and show her she was in more danger in his room than she could ever be in her own. If he didn't think of a solution soon, he was certain to forget his good intentions and lose what little control he still possessed.
