“What am I supposed to put on instead? I didn’t bring any extra clothes.”
“Wrap yourself in the blanket until your underwear dries, it’ll be faster than the rest of your clothes.”
Rosie peeled her wet pants off first, followed by her blouse. Tom was supposed to gather wood but couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Her nipples were hard little peaks from the cold water and slight breeze. What had felt wonderful five minutes ago, was now giving her shivers. Looking at her nipples, his body ached. Releasing a breath he didn’t know he held, he turned away and picked up a piece of wood. Without looking back he found another twig then another and another until his arms were full.
When he returned to Rosie she had the blanket wrapped around under her arms and was sitting on a fallen log beside the ring of rocks used for a fire pit. She couldn’t have been more beautiful wearing the fanciest ball gown. She’d taken down her wet hair and was combing her fingers through it, shaking it a little to make it dry faster. His fingers itched to be running through her beautiful hair. He was afraid if he got that close he wouldn’t stop with just her hair.
“How long do you think it will take to dry my clothes?”
“Too long,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Not long. Once I get the fire going I’ll lay them on the bushes around here and put your under clothes on the rocks closest to the fire.”
“I’m sorry. I had this all worked out and this isn’t what I’d planned at all.”
“Don’t worry about it. Everything will work out all right. How about we go ahead with this picnic. Looks like you made some nice food for us. Want a sandwich?”
She pouted for a moment, “Yes, please.”
He smiled. She was adorable, even pouting. He handed her a sandwich. “What are we supposed to drink the wine out of?”
“I packed two cups. They should still be in the saddlebags.”
He rummaged around in the bottom of the bags until he found the cups. “Looks like you brought us cookies, too,” he said bringing them up and out.
“I always have to have a cookie after dinner. Didn’t you know that?”
He shook his head. “No, there are lots of things I don’t know about you. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself and then I share something about me?”
“All right. My birthday is September 23rd and I’ll be twenty-seven.”
“My birthday is May 30th and I was thirty-five.”
“You don’t look a day over thirty-four.”
His bark of laughter made her smile. “You have a good sense of humor.”
“I try. Working for you I need one.”
That sobered him. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass. I never should have treated you that way and I have no excuse.”
Rosie smiled at him and his spirits rose. “We got off on the wrong foot. You were hurt and betrayed by a woman you loved—”
“No, I never loved her.”
She looked up at him with those beautiful brandy colored eyes of hers. “You didn’t?”
“No. I know that now. I was angry that she left, but I was never hurt that she didn’t love me. I didn’t care about that. The kids, Ben, loved her. And he still misses her. I’m angrier about that than anything. How could she hurt the kids like that? How could any mother?”
“I don’t know, but they’re lucky. You’re a good father.”
“Thanks. They are my world. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
“I don’t either. Now that I know them, I love them so much. You must know that. I think they are amazing and you’re the reason for that.”
“I think you’re amazing.” He moved closer on the log to her.
She looked down to where her feet were hidden under the blanket and she blushed. Now he knew she blushed all over. Her neck and chest were as red as her face under his praise.
He raised her chin with his finger. “Look at me, Rosie.”
She raised her eyes to lock with his. “Tom,”
He kissed her. Claimed her lips with a passion he was not sure of. She brought feelings from him he’d never felt before.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. Her blanket fell to her waist, baring her amazing breasts to him. He couldn’t resist any longer. He broke away from her lips and took one of her turgid peaks into his mouth and sucked. Rosie’s head fell back and she braced herself with locked arms on the log. The stance brought her nipple more firmly into his mouth.
He smiled at his responsive little bride. When he finally made love to her, she was going to amaze him. He already knew it. She responded more than any woman he’d been with before. She liked what he did to her. There was no way to disguise her responses.
He let go of her nipple and moved his lips back to hers. Kissing her completely. “I think your underclothes are dry now.”
“Hmm?”
“Your chemise and bloomers. I think they are dry now.”
Her eyes flew open. “Oh. Yes, of course.” She reddened and turned away.
“Rosie.”
She looked up at him.
“I mean to finish this soon.”
She swallowed and nodded.
“Real soon.”
*****
Agatha was here and could handle things for a couple of days. Tom was going to take Rosie to town. They’d spend two nights at Mary’s. He’d fill her with good food then make love to her all day. Maybe he didn’t deserve it, but he hoped she’d forgive him.
He’d take her shopping at Sadie’s, for things for herself, not for the kids. Maybe take her on another picnic up in the hills above town. Far enough away from civilization that they could make love out in the open. He’d look his fill at her beautiful, perfect body, then he’d cover her with his and love her all the ways he knew how.
Do for her all the things he should have done when she first came. She deserved so much more than he had given her.
CHAPTER 8
Carolyn Vandenberg stepped off the train platform at Creede. As expected, no one waited for her. She made her way directly to the little house two blocks off Main Street and let herself in. Her brother never kept it locked. She guessed he didn’t have anything worth stealing.
She’d lived in this backwards town for nine years. Nine years she’ll never get back. But no one would recognize her now. Her new red hair color hidden beneath the plain bonnet she wore and new figure ensured that. She’d always been a skinny little thing with mousy brown hair but no more. Now she had generous curves in all the right places. That’s what happens when you aren’t working your finger to the bone every day. She wore cosmetics, too. Carefully applied powder, cheek and lip rouge, and coal black around her eyes made her unrecognizable as the clean faced woman who’d left.
Now she’d wait for her brother to get home and explain his letter to her. But in the meantime she’d have a drink or two. She found his whiskey in the kitchen cupboard. Pouring herself two fingers of the amber liquid, she swirled it in the glass. So pretty. Even the worst rot gut whiskey had the same beautiful amber color as the smoothest single malt. She preferred the single malt, but would settle for the rot gut her brother drank. Any port in a storm as they said in San Francisco. Or in her case, any drink was better than no drink at all. She took the bottle and filled her flask. She’d emptied it ages ago on the train.
If little brother would get home from his job at the bank, they’d make their plans.
*****
She’d had the best dream. Tom had massaged her all over with her rose cream until her muscles were totally relaxed and limp. He’d brushed her hair before climbing in bed and telling her all the most luscious things he wanted to do to her body. Ahhh. Only this time he made love to her. She felt all warm and cozy, inside and out. She didn’t want to get up even though the sun hit her in the eyes. The sun!!!
“Tom!” She turned over to find his side of the bed cold. He’d been gone for a while. Why didn’t he get her up? He always got her up with a swat on t
he butt. This morning he was gone. She threw off the covers and realized she was naked. Where was her night gown? Her dream. Was it real? How much of it was real? She didn’t feel sore between her legs and there was no blood on the sheets. Wasn’t there supposed to be blood on the sheets after her first time?
Raising her wrist to her nose, she sniffed. Roses. So it was true. At least part of it. Tom really had taken care of her last night. She’d been so tired. Even with Agatha here, she was still always tired. She put her hands to her cheeks, her face burning at the memory.
She grabbed her chemise, shoved her arms through the sleeves and yanked it into place. She followed that with her stockings, garters, shoes, corset, skirt and shirtwaist blouse. Reaching for her hair she realized Tom had braided it for her again. How many men knew how to braid hair? She laughed. Her man did. Probably any man who was the father of a little girl. She unbraided her hair, brushed it till it shone and then twisted, forming it into a bun atop her head.
Checking the clock on the bureau she was amazed. It was already seven thirty. She’d slept right though breakfast and all of her morning chores. What about the men? Who cooked for them? They had to eat. Had Tom gotten Agatha to cook? Oh, those poor men.
She rushed downstairs to the kitchen. Tom sat at the table with a cup of coffee.
“There you are, Mrs. Harris. I was beginning to wonder when you were going to wake up.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” She poured a cup of coffee from the big pot on the stove. It always had coffee in it. The long standing policy of the kitchen was that the person who took the last cup had to make the new.
“You needed the rest. You’ve been working too hard, Rosie. It’s time you had a break.”
“What about the men? Breakfast?”
“Agatha fixed breakfast, yours is on a plate on the warming shelf. I did your morning chores along with mine. What I want from you is for you to eat breakfast, you’re going to need your strength,” he waggled his eyebrows at her. Was he teasing her?
“Then,” he continued, “I want you to pack a bag for the two of us for a couple of nights away from here. We’re going to town.”
“Town? Why? Now that you have Agatha you don’t need me anymore?”
He got up and came over to her. Running a finger down her jaw, he told her “I’ll always need you, Rosie. You can’t get rid of me that fast. And I said pack for the two of us. Remember?”
“Then why town?”
“You need a break. You’re working yourself to death and I’ve been letting you. Well, I’m not going to let you anymore.”
Rosie eyed him suspiciously. “What’s gotten into you? First you rub cream all over my body, which I loved by the way. Then you brush and braid my hair and you brought in Agatha and took me on a picnic, now this. Why are you being nice to me?”
Her words cut him like a knife. Had he really been that bad? He’d basically ignored her, except when she was sleeping. Then he allowed himself to touch her arm and run his fingers through the long end of her braid to the softest hair he’d ever felt
“I always should have been nice to you. You’re not like Sarah, never have been, never will be. I’m sorry treated you that way.”
She stood leaning against the counter. “What are you saying? Exactly? I don’t want to get it wrong. Are we going to have a real marriage? One where we actually talk to each other and get to know each other? Don’t say yes and get my hopes up if you don’t mean it.”
Tears filled her eyes. He got up, went to her and took her in his arms. “I don’t blame you for not believing me. I want a real marriage too. I won’t rush you. There are still many things you don’t know about me and I about you. We should really get acquainted, don’t you think?”
“I think I’m going to cry.”
“Oh Rosie,” he chuckled. “This was supposed to make you happy.”
“I am happy, you big lout,” She buried her face in his shirt covered chest and balled. Then she gave him little baby kisses all over his face while she cried some more.
Tom let her cry, knowing it was a step in the right direction. She had to get it out before she could move forward. He wasn’t sure what changed for him. Her inate kindness, her determination, the love she gave to everyone including him, changed him. He couldn’t remain the harsh ass he’d been. She made him want to be good to her. To treat her like she treated them all.
He’d always liked Rosie, especially liked looking at her. Seeing her with the children, teaching them, not just how to read and write and cipher but how to be good people. Even Suzie was learning to behave like a little lady, wasn’t throwing her tantrums nearly as often and never in front of Rosie because they didn’t work. Rosie ignored her. In the beginning that just made Suzie madder, but now, she was realizing she usually got her way if she asked nicely. And if it was something Rosie couldn’t let her do, she always sat Suzie down and explained it to her.
It was the way the men looked at her. With admiration. She treated everyone of them like family. She started baking special cakes and making their favorite meals on their birthdays. These were men who never celebrated anything much less their birthdays and here was Rosie giving them each something special to look forward to.
It was everything about her. It was just Rosie. She didn’t pretend she was something she wasn’t. With Rosie what you saw is what you got. She admitted when she didn’t know something and was eager to learn. And Tom had discovered he was eager to teach her.
Tonight they’d have their wedding night. He’d ask Mary for a cold supper in their room. Mary usually had the bridal suite available and he’d get it. The cost didn’t matter. It was the only room with a bathroom and the tub was big enough for two! He knew it because he’d helped get it there. They’d had to take off the outside wall and lift it with pulleys to get it in and then rebuild the wall afterwards.
He intended on taking advantage of that tub to get Rosie all warm and pliable. Relaxed and wanting when he took her. He knew she was a virgin. The way she’d exploded in his arms proved that to him. She was untried and he was sure that had been her first orgasm. The first of many. Rosie wasn’t going to know what hit her. The things he wanted to do to her and with her. He wanted to make love every way he could think of. By the time he was done, Rosie was going to be one satisfied woman and wouldn’t even think of leaving him.
She didn’t plan on it now. He knew that. But it was there in the back of his mind, he needed to mark her. Make her his for everyone to see. What kind of caveman mentality was that?
He needed her. Wanted her. By the time this night was over there’d be no doubt of either in her mind.
*****
Carolyn sat on the sofa sipping the last of her brother’s whiskey, trying to make it last, when he finally walked through the door.
“Where’ve you been? I’ve been waiting forever,” she said.
“I can see how long you’ve been waiting.” He picked up the empty whiskey bottle. “I’ve been working. One of us needs to have a real job now and again, so I can buy the good whiskey you like.”
“This stuff was your best? Gracious, what would the rot gut taste like? Fire water as the Indians call it?”
“We don’t get single malt whiskey here in Creede. You got spoiled in San Francisco. Where’s Frank?”
“Frank’s not coming. I left him. He ran out of money. Don’t look at me like that,” she said when his lips turned down at the corners. “It’s not like I was in love with him. And don’t say I’m spoiled. I’m just getting what I deserve after all those years of drudgery I put up with.”
“You came here hoping to snag yourself a rich miner and instead fell in love with a rancher. Oh, poor you.”
She pouted. “That didn’t last long. Before the first brat came, I knew I wasn’t cut out for that life. I deserve the best. As you said, the best isn’t available in Creede.” Even the name of the town left a bad taste in her mouth. “The sooner I get away from here, the better. Now how do we get a hold
of that money?”
“I’ve done some thinking about that. Two years I’ve been in this flea bitten town, waiting for this opportunity. Now it’s come and you’re going to help me. You’re going to have to get one of those brats as you like to call them. The boy’s more likely to be alone. The girl is still too young to be going about on her own. But the boy. I’ve been watching. He goes out fishing and exploring by himself. Usually he has a book and finds a quiet spot to read. His favorite spot seems to be the barn. He goes there a lot from what I’ve observed.”
“Books! I’ll never understand what people see in them. Give me the theater any day.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder.
“You do know most theater plays come from books originally, right?”
“Really? Who cares where they get it as long as it’s up on the stage. I should have been an actress.” She shoved a stray tendril of her bright red hair behind her ear.
“What do you mean should have?”
Even in her half drunken state the sarcasm was not lost on her. She laughed.
He went to the small desk across the room from the sofa where she sat and unlocked the bottom drawer.
“Oh, you do love me,” she exclaimed, when he pulled the unopened bottle of whiskey out.
“Got nothing to do with that. I wanted to make sure there’d be some for me when I got home.”
She frowned, rose unsteadily and weaved her way across the room. “Pour me a drink, Sammy, and tell me how to kidnap my son.”
*****
The trip to Creede from the ranch was only three hours without the detour to the McKenzie’s. Tom had only those hours to make up for more than a month of learning that he should have been doing. He’d found out more about her at the picnic but not enough.
“So you wanted to get away from the evil sister-in-law? But there must have been easier, less drastic ways.”
“Oh, there were for sure. But I wanted a home and a family of my own. You and Ben and Suzie are my family now. I’ll do anything to keep all of you safe from harm. Those are my bonds to you. I adore the children and I’m getting used to you.” She grinned at him.
Tame a Wild Bride, a Western Romance Page 8
