Shameless

by Rosanne Bittner

  “It is the middle of the day!” she commented.

  He pulled her into his arms. “And we’re home. Don’t you think we should celebrate our first home together as man and wife?” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the main room and through the door.

  “What are you doing?”

  Clay scooped her up into his arms then with an ease that made her seem like a child. “With my people it’s a custom to carry the bride over the threshold of the new home,” he told her. “Welcome home, Señora Youngblood.”

  Her eyes teared again. “You are truly happy? You are not disappointed?”

  He kissed her lightly. “I’m the happiest man alive.” He carried her into the bedroom, leaning over and laying her on the bed. Nina smiled through tears, reaching up and pulling him to her, their lips meeting in a kiss of celebration and joy at being alive and safe.

  The kiss grew from celebration to passion. They had traveled far, and again, it had been a long time since they had shared a real bed. All the joy and ecstasy and passion they had found together was reawakened with the relief of truly being home.

  Nina closed her eyes and let him gently undress her until she lay naked beside him. She moved against him, kissing at his lips, his neck, taking her turn then. She unbuttoned his shirt, moved her lips to kiss at the hairs of his chest. She parted the shirt then and kissed at the scar from the tomahawk wound, moved down and kissed at the scars left from Al Kinkade’s bullet, always admiring her man’s virile physique and flat stomach. Clay helped her, and soon they both lay naked, their warm, damp bodies enjoying the feel of stroking and rubbing, legs entwined, breasts pressed against a broad, firm chest.

  Nina touched his nipple playfully, moved her hand down to touch that part of him that once had made her so afraid. He had taught her so much. She felt free now, she loved her husband more for accepting her parents’ ranch so eagerly, in spite of its miserable condition. Rebuilding here was her dream. She only wished Emilio was here to share that dream.

  She moved over Clay gently, taking pleasure now in feeling and tasting man, still astonished that her beloved had been able to make her want to do things she would once have considered horrifying. She trailed her lips over his body, down past the hairs of his belly. This time she was the bold aggressor. Clay’s groans of satisfaction, the way he grasped at her hair, told her she could please him better than any whore, yet she was his loving wife. She caressed him gently, tasted him, journeyed back over his hard stomach to kiss at his chest. She leaned over him then and offered her breasts. Clay sucked at them teasingly until her own heated passion made her body feel on fire. He rolled her over, rising to his knees and grasping her narrow hips to bring her up to him before he entered her with a shudder of ecstasy. Nina groaned in the glory of it, reaching up to grasp the iron rungs of the head of the bed and arching up to him. They moved in sweet rhythm together.

  The sunlight fell on Nina’s dark, naked body, and their eyes held boldly as they met each other with pulsating thrusts. She closed her eyes and cried out words of love and excitement in Spanish when she felt her own sweet climax, and Clay pushed even deeper, moving in ways that made her feel insane with ecstasy.

  Clay leaned down then and moved his hands under her back, smothering her with gasping kisses until she felt the throbbing thrusts of his own release. When he was finished, he lay quietly for a moment, then kissed softly at her neck.

  “We’re home, mi querida,” he whispered.

  Yes, she thought, I am home at last. There was nothing left to fear.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Summer, 1857

  Nearly a year passed, a year of the hardest work Clay had ever experienced. Through it all he could not have been more convinced that he had chosen the right woman to help him rebuild his life as well as the hacienda they were creating together. Because Nina was so adept at handling horses and capturing mustangs, they already had a herd of over a hundred fine mares and geldings, and corralled separately were two sturdy stallions Nina had captured herself, strong stock to be used for breeding. Clay was proud and impressed by his wife’s knowledge of horses and breeding, as well as her skill in capturing mustangs and her eye for picking only the best from the wild herds.

  He was also proud of himself, for the way he had handled old Juan and increased the size of the ranch. He had quickly befriended the old man by waving solid American money in his face. He had talked Juan into selling most of his ranch, nearly a thousand acres, and he had bought up another fifteen hundred acres from another neighbor, lower, greener land where there were even some shady cottonwood trees. He even arranged with the Mexican government, which at the moment was advocating more private land ownership, to claim yet more land so that now the ranch consisted of four thousand acres. It was only because the original land had belonged to Nina, and because Clay was married to a Mexican woman, that he was allowed to claim so much for himself, and even then he had to be sure to include Nina’s name on ownership papers and swear an oath of allegiance to the Mexican government.

  He was willing to do whatever was necessary to be able to live safely and peacefully with Nina. Life was good. Clay was more glad than ever that he had saved most of his money over the years. A little American money went a long way in Mexico. They grew most of their own food and were prospering in every way. He had repaired the old outbuildings and built new ones. There was enough green land now to graze the horses. The house had windows and rugs and better furniture. The ranch had grown so much that he had hired men to help with all the work. Most of them came from Juan’s ranch, good, hard-working, dependable men whom Clay had soon learned to appreciate and admire. The men in turn seemed to respect their gringo patrón. He had grown to trust them so much that he was thinking of leaving the vaqueros in charge when he went to the coast later this summer to find a buyer for some of their best horses.

  Several of the pregnant mares had finally begun delivering. He wondered what he would have done without Nina’s knowledge and natural instinct in knowing what to do with problem deliveries. She had helped two mares through risky births and had saved the foals, two fine animals he might have lost if Nina had not been present. She seemed to always know exactly what to do, but he could not help noticing the sadness in her eyes when she watched the foals being born.

  He knew the reason for that sadness. In spite of their own frequent and passionate lovemaking, Nina still had not herself become pregnant. It was a source of sorrow and worry for her, and that worried Clay. She so wanted to give him children. He watched her now as he stretched out in bed and she came toward him wearing her nightgown. It was late, and both of them were weary after sitting with another mare that had dropped her foal. Clay noticed a distraught look in her eyes as she climbed into bed.

  “I have had my time again,” she told him, sounding ready to cry.

  Clay sighed and reached over to turn out the oil lamp. He moved back into bed and embraced her. “God will know when it’s right for us to have a child, Nina. Maybe He knew that with all the hard work we’ve had to do to get this place in shape, it would be a bad time for you to be pregnant.” He kissed her hair. “In fact, I’m beginning to think that it could be because of working so hard that you haven’t gotten pregnant. You’re putting in some long hours, Nina, a lot of them on the back of a horse. That’s no way to hang on to a baby. I’ve been worried lately that even if you did get pregnant, you might not carry the child full term if you keep up this pace. I want you to slow down.”

  “But there is so much to do.”

  “We have help now. Besides, we’ve done most of the really hard work, getting the place into shape and all. I want you to start living like the pampered, wealthy woman you’re going to become.” He snuggled closer. “I intend to establish a connection with some buyers in the United States. One day soon we’ll be making a lot of money. I’m going to build you a bigger, much nicer house, with lots of bedrooms for all the babies we’re going to have. I want you to start relaxing more,
and I don’t think you should do any heavy work or go riding out after mustangs for a while.”

  She wiped at quiet tears and moved back to meet his eyes, studying his handsome face in a shaft of moonlight that came through the window. “But that is what I love to do.”

  “More than to have a child?”

  She sighed deeply, snuggling back into his shoulder. “No. And I know that once I have a baby, the child will keep me busy. A child is the only thing I would love more than riding free…” She kissed at his neck. “Except for you. I love you more than anything. That is part of the reason it would be hard for me to stay here when you are far away chasing horses, gone all day long, sometimes many days. All these months we have been together night and day.”

  He kissed her eyes. “If you really love me, you’ll do as I ask and stay around the house and take it easy so you can give me a son.”

  She smiled softly, her eyes misty. “Sí. You are probably right.”

  “Besides, you have all those books I got for you to help you learn to read. You need to practice writing letters, practice reading.”

  She sighed, turning onto her back. “I will do as you ask and rest more. It will not be easy, after being so used to working hard and always being with you.”

  “I know. But then you could spend more time baking for me. And I need some new shirts. There are a lot of things you can do here, things that have been neglected because you’ve been helping me so much. Then once you have a baby and I get you into a bigger house, you’ll be plenty busy.”

  She smiled at the thought of it, hoping that rest was the answer. Clay was being so patient, but she knew that deep inside he longed for a son. She moved back into his arms, but their quiet thoughts were suddenly interrupted by shouts and the sound of horses riding hard.

  “What is that?” Nina asked in alarm.

  They both quickly sat up, and Clay leaped out of bed, wearing only his long johns. “Stay put!” he told her, grabbing his rifle. He hurried to the door, and Nina quickly rose, ignoring his order. She pulled on a robe and hurried into the main room, where she picked up another rifle from where it stood in the corner of the kitchen. Clay gave her a chastising look, but there was no time to scold her. She cranked open one window just slightly, listening to voices. The hired help was talking to someone, asking them in Spanish who they were and what they were doing here.

  “I’m going out,” Clay told her. “You stay inside this house, and damn it, do what I say this time!” He opened the door and left. Nina leveled her rifle through the window, ready to shoot in her husband’s defense if necessary.

  “Julio, you do not remember me,” came a familiar voice. “It is I, Emilio Juarez. This is my place. What are you doing here? I thought you worked for old Juan Sanchez.”

  Nina’s heart pounded harder. Emilio! What was he doing here? Would he make trouble for Clay?

  “I work for the gringo now,” Julio answered. “Your sister’s husband, Clay Youngblood. He owns most of old Juan’s place, and a lot more. This is his hacienda, his and Nina’s. He has hired many men. You are lucky you and those with you did not get shot.”

  “Emilio, what are you doing here?” Nina heard Clay speak up. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me or this place!”

  There was a moment of silence, and Nina knew Emilio had immediately stiffened with resentment. “I wish to come inside and see Nina,” he said then. “Is there anything wrong with wanting to see my sister?”

  Another moment of silence. “I suppose not. But just you.” Nina could barely make out two or three other men sitting on horses beside Emilio. “I don’t want strangers in my house. Not the kind you run with,” Clay added.

  Nina heard a snicker. “You still think you are better than I, don’t you, gringo?”

  “No. I just don’t trust you and your friends, and that’s your fault, not mine. Besides, I can see you’ve been drinking again.”

  “I am a man old enough to drink all the whiskey I want.”

  “And I’m man enough to decide whether or not I want you in my house!”

  “Your house! It is my house, mine and Nina’s!”

  “Not anymore! You gave up rights to it when you refused to come here with us in the first place. Nina and I have put a lot of hard work and blood in this place. You could have done the same, but you chose not to, so I don’t want to hear any more about you owning any of this. If you want the old furniture or any personal things around here that were yours, you’re welcome to take them. But that’s all. You can come in and see Nina, but it’s goddamn rude of you to come here in the middle of the night. You’re up to something, Emilio. What is it?”

  Emilio slung a leg around and slid off his horse. “First let me talk to Nina.”

  Clay looked at Julio. “Get a few more men and keep an eye on these two that came with him.” He turned his attention to Emilio again. “Where is the rest of your gang? Stealing my horses?”

  Emilio grinned. “Do not worry. They are camped far from here…for now.” He headed past Clay toward the house, and Clay followed. Nina quickly set her rifle aside and turned up the low-burning lamp on the kitchen table. Emilio walked through the door, stopping for a moment to stare in wonder at the tidy little home with its rugs and curtains and new furniture. He moved his eyes to Nina.

  “So, you and your gringo man have finally made this place into the ranch Father wanted it to be,” he almost sneered. “I wonder what Mother and Father would think of you settling here with the kind of man who—”

  “Do not say it, Emilio!” Nina ordered. “Mother and Father would both have loved Clay. They would be proud to see what we have done here. We have over four thousand acres now. And we have many horses. Clay plans to find a buyer for them soon.”

  Emilio moved dark, menacing eyes to Clay. “So, after all the time I tried to make enough money to build this place up, you have come in here with your American dollars to do it, money earned by working for the Army that stole so much from my people! More Mexican land in the hands of a gringo!” He looked back at Nina. “Do not praise your husband for what you have now, Nina. He came here with money, something we never had, but something I tried for many years to make for us, so we could do this. Without his stinking American money, he could not have done all this!”

  “He is a good, hard-working man! He would have done it somehow even if he had not had money,” she answered, her dark eyes angry. “And I know now that the things you did were not to make money so that we could build this ranch. You knew it was all I ever wanted, but you never intended to come back and settle here for good. And even if we could not have come back here to build the ranch, you know it would not have mattered to me, if we could have worked honestly, even if it meant not making much money. But you grew to like the life of the outlaw!”

  Their eyes held, and she saw behind Emilio’s bloodshot eyes a moment of nostalgia. He was remembering how it used to be. He also realized she was right. He no longer wanted to lead a sedate life. Vengeance and being an outlaw had become a way of life for him, as much a habit as the whiskey that made him slur his words.

  “Look at you,” she added. “All this time you could have come to see me, but you did not. Now you come, in the middle of the night…and drunk! What is it you want, Emilio? You did not come here because you missed your sister. You have another reason.”

  He smiled bitterly. “You always knew me too well, Nina. I must tell you, though, that I have missed you.”

  She raised her chin. “There is something you want.”

  Emilio stepped closer, ignoring Clay. “We are in Texas again. There are many more settlements and ranches in Texas, and Texans are the gringos I despise the most, the people from whom I will always enjoy stealing.” He glanced at Clay with accusing eyes. “People who have gotten rich off poor Mexicans,” he added with a sneer, then looked back at Nina. “I asked around before I came. I learned that you have much land now and that you raise fine horses here. Surely you have enough land that y
ou could let me and my men use some of it, for a few horses of our own. They need to be fattened up before we take them to the coast to sell them.”

  “Stolen horses!” Clay put in angrily. “Right?”

  Emilio kept his eyes on Nina. “I am talking to my sister.”

  “When you want permission to use this ranch for your own purposes, you talk to both of us, Emilio!” Clay answered.

  Emilio slowly turned. “All right. I want to graze some horses on your land,” he snarled. “It will be no bother to you. You owe it to me. I am your brother-in-law.”

  “He owes you nothing,” Nina said before Clay could answer. “You have done nothing to help us build this ranch, Emilio! I have worked so hard that I have not even been able yet to have a child! We invited you to come here with us when we left El Paso. We came to look for you because I loved my brother, even though he had deserted me after I was arrested. I missed my brother and wanted him to be with me like before. But you refused. Now you come looking for me, not because you love and miss me, but because you want to use my land to hide and graze stolen horses! I do not want you or your horses here! Clay and I have found peace and happiness here. I will not let you come along and destroy it for us. If we start letting you come here, soon the law will follow! Go away! Go away and do not come back unless you come back alone, ready to settle down and help us.”

  Emilio stared at his sister in disbelief. She saw the hurt and disappointment in his eyes, but she knew she was doing the right thing. She had spoken up quickly, wanting to be sure Emilio understood it was his sister who was ordering him off their land, not Clay. She was afraid that if Clay had to do it, there would be even more trouble.

  “So,” Emilio said, standing stiff and defiant. “Your husband has done a good job of turning you against me.”

  Nina shook her head, her eyes tearing. “No, Emilio. You did it all by yourself. I still love you. And you are still welcome here if you will stop the drinking and the stealing and if you will let Clay be a friend to you.”