Romance: My Stepbrother's Plaything

by Valentine, Annie

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  Warning

  This book contains explicit content intended for readers 18+ years old.

  If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, please close this book now.

  Chapter One

  Shauna was beat. She had watered and fed all the critters, mucked the barn. The stack of hay looked so clean and inviting, she thought about just plunking down on the pile of it and sleeping there for the night.

  She must have done that. She was so exhausted that what she thought were just notions blending with reality. She must not have just thought about sleeping in the hay loft but did so. When she felt the toe of a boot on the tip of her own, she stirred. Cautiously.

  She peeled opened her eyes, scanning upward a pair of very long legs to take in the full view of a cowboy standing before her. He wasn’t staring her down exactly. But he was studying her all the same.

  “You there,” he said. “Thunderstorms coming in. I need shelter till they pass,” he said.

  Few people crossed Shauna’s day, even if it was one that was slipping into the evening. Not after what happened. She saw to it.

  “Fine,” she said, coming to her feet by backing away from him up the pile of hay.

  Shauna took a mental inventory of where her pitch fork and scythe were, in case she had to grab them quickly. She side stepped him, not letting his eyes off of him for a moment.

  A slight smile broke his otherwise grave face. “You’re fine ma’am. Just looking for shelter. Nothing else. Of course, if you have a pot of coffee somewhere, I wouldn’t mind.”

  Shauna plied the barn door which the cowboy had taken it upon himself to close. The sky was black and green off in the distance with a shock of white above the horizon. The storm was a good ways off, at least far enough that she was clear to get to the house. The thought crossed her mind that she could invite him into the house. He was a stranger. He wouldn’t have any questions. But Shauna thought again.

  “I’ve got some on the stove. Got some slumgullion too. You’re welcome to it,” she said.

  “Obliged,” he said.

  As she headed for the house, she realized she was being quick about it. Not because of the storm or because she wanted to be done with the chore of feeding her stranger but because, somewhere deep within her, she was glad for the company.

  He was a hauntingly handsome man, beneath the Montana dirt. He smiled as little as she did. But his lips bent with amusement once or twice as they conversed, and it was more than nice. It had been that once when a man was above her in the sweet shadows of the night. That once before he went off and never came back.

  At least in person. Shauna had him with her in the form of her little son, probably down for the night. She would look in on him before bringing the cowboy some supper. She would not have Haya do it. She wanted to do it for herself.

  Shauna had been a mail order bride from Annapolis, Maryland. She was the aging single daughter of a domineering, fairly wealthy father who had little time for her since she had the audacity to be a daughter and not a son.

  Her father was an academic and a business man who was something of a circuit lecturer. He kept such a tight rein on her, not because he was doting and overprotective but because he was mean.

  He allocated an allowance to Shauna which she squirreled away until she knew what she was going to do about her lot in life. Once she happened on an ad for mail order brides, it was clear. She put herself on the block as a mail order bride.

  Shauna followed the counsel of the agency who advised travelers to split up their valuables into small satchels so that if they were to be robbed – an ugly reality – that all would not be lost. She took everything she had from her bank account after a major argument with the vice president who thought she needed her father’s permission. She split up her fortune in several hiding places and traveled a hellish sojourn to make her way to Fort Shaw, Montana to meet with her future husband.

  Shauna did not know what was worse. Facing spinsterhood under her father’s thumb or her journey out west. It was not one bit the romantic adventure the agency promised her. It was so horrible, she would not risk going back though she was lonesome homesick.

  So when her husband left and didn’t come back she figured it was something she said. Or did. Or didn’t do. Though on her wedding night, she was pretty sure she did it all.

  Or it maybe it was that her appearance was not pleasing to him. She thought she had a pleasing face but she was plumper than most. Her father let her know in no uncertain terms just what he thought about what she looked like. He punished her for being full-figured. The result was Shauna was somewhat skittish to look a man in the eye.

  After their first week as man and wife where, her husband had showed her her duties as a farmer’s wife -- nearly a year to that very day. He went out on the morning of the seventh day to shoot their dinner and did not return. She thought he had saddled up with a bit too much gear and did not take a wagon for his kill, but she had been relatively new to the Frontier at the time. She did not dare question him. Out loud.

  Except that when she finally took a hard look at the facts that her new husband was not returning, Shauna noticed that her life savings were gone too. At least one satchel of it. Her new now missing husband packed more than his camping gear when he departed. When Shauna confirmed her money was missing, she no longer had to wonder if he was coming back.

  Fortunately, she had enough money to keep things going because she was there to stay. Both of them. When she learned she was pregnant loaded up the wagon and road till she found the next human being. She was not going to have a baby by herself. That’s when she found Haya, a Cheyenne woman who more than willing to come live with Shauna.

  All this went through her head when she went into her house to fetch the stranger a bowl of stew. Her son was content, asleep under Haya’s attentive care.

  Haya didn’t speak at all, ever. But she did nod at Shauna when she spoke to her in English. Shauna loaded up a bowl and walked back over the same line she had just traveled into the house, back out to the barn. The wind had picked up quite a bit in that short period of time.

  “Here you go. I imagine you can figure out where the pump is if you’re thirsty,” she said quietly.

  “Thank you for your kindness,” he said. “So your husband won’t mind my being out here, will he?”

  Fear twisted within her. She was struck with the notion that he might be fishing to see if any men were on the property. As it was it was just Haya, the baby and her. Shauna thought it was best to lie.

  “He’ll be back directly,” she said. “I will explain the situation. If you’re still here. This thing may just blow over.”

  The cowboy smiled a slow wry smile.

  “What is your husband’s name? I might know him?” he asked. “For I thought this was Sam Bishop’s place.”

  “Sam Bishop,” she replied hesitantly. Suddenly she felt very vulnerable. “That’s his name. I am Shauna Bishop.”

  A gust of wind slammed against the barn. The cowboy raised his brows.

  “Really?” he pushed his hat up off his head and ran his fingers through his thick, wavy hair.

  He continued, “I heard tell he was gone these past few months over in Deadwood. Had a claim that proved out. Imagine that. Didn’t know he was a married fellow. Leaving wife and a home. Man ought to be horsewhipped, if you don’t mind my saying.”

  She didn’t mind his saying. Shauna would like to see him horsewhipped too. And there was a tremendous relief in having another person share the same sentiment.

  “You’re telling me he struck it rich?” she nearly collapsed.

  T
he news took the sap right out of her. Shauna staggered. She grappled with the reality of the incredible struggle. The making ends meet. While her husband was off in a God forsaken town no doubt drinking and gambling. Oh she had heard of Deadwood.

  Sam reached out for her. He caught her in his big strong arms before she fell to the barn floor.

  “You okay?” he asked her. “What were you doing out here when I wandered in? Why are you sleeping in the barn with a house close by?”

  “I finished my chores,” she began.

  “You got no hired hand?” he inquired. “Shauna, look at me.”

  He took her chin in his long fingers. “Your husband isn’t coming back directly.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. It felt so good to let go even some she wasn’t sure could hold back. He had been let go of her face, his touch felt way too good.

  “Do not hurt me,” she managed.

  “Shauna no one is going to hurt you. I am concerned. Who left you out here to tend to this place all by your lonesome?” he demanded.

  “Sam Bishop, my husband,” she replied.

  “No darlin’, that just couldn’t be. I am Sam Bishop. And this here is my house.”

  Chapter Two

  Shauna ran for the door. His words fueled strength in her and she had the clarity to bolt.

  “Wow there,” he said. “I mean you no harm. And if you want to go back to the house, I’ll get you there. But I think we should stay in here for the duration. Till the storm hits.”

  “I am not staying out here with you and I –,” Shauna stopped cold.

  She was not about to reveal she had a baby in the house. Not when this man, as welcomed in ways she should be ashamed of for, was obviously dangerous.

  “I can prove who I say I am. I can prove this is my house, my barn, my land. I left like I said to Deadwood on a lark and I left this place in the hands of my foreman,” said Sam.

  Shauna trembled when she asked. “A fellow, height somewhere between yours and mine, black curly hair, kind of a wide-set eyes?”

  “That would be him, ma’am,” he said softly, touching her arm so gently. “I got news for you too. He turned up dead in a ditch, strung out on dope. When I learned he was in Deadwood with me, I turned back to check on my place.”

  Shauna touched her forehead to the barn door unable to move as she tried so hard to make sense of everything that had transpired. She had money left. Not much but enough. She would go back home. To Annapolis. To her awful father.

  “How long have you been managing my farm?” he asked.

  She could only estimate how long it had been. The baby was three months now, born a full term from that first week. She guessed it to be year, with Haya’s help.

  “About a year now,” she replied quietly.

  “I’d like to pay you for that then,” he said. “You’ve done a fine job.”

  “I have to get back to the house,” she said.

  “I advise against it. We probably ought to get down to the cellar even,” he said. “We don’t get many storms here but when we do they’re terrible,” he said.

  Now Shauna was panicked. She knew that Haya would know what to do. She lived in the wild practically but the baby. Shauna was not going to be separated from him during the storm if it was going to be as bad as Sam said it was going to be.

  Sam. How unnerving to use the name of her husband for the man standing before her. Especially when she had named her son for him. She named the baby for the father so thinking it would help him as he grew up.

  Shauna insisted. “I will take my chances. I am sure I am not likely to blow away.”

  Sam reached above her and braced the barn door.

  “Better tell me Missy what you got in that house that you’re so all fired up to get to,” he said softly. “Is it because you’re unsettled by me?”

  It was a great reason to want to go into the house. She was unsettled by him but not in the way he thought. Not in a way she had ever been unsettled by the man who was her husband. But she was a lousy liar and she was not at all convincing.

  “Yes,” she said weakly.

  “Okay let’s go,” he said.

  He wrapped his arms around her shoulder and forced her to huddle into his hard frame. They ran against the wind up the stairs of the front porch and in through the front door. Haya was settled down next to the baby who was asleep, oblivious to the drama. Haya was silent but her eyes were leery as they rested on the cowboy.

  “Haya, this here is -,” Shauna stopped. She couldn’t say his name.

  “Sam Bishop, ma’am,” he said. “And who might this be?” He asked of the baby.

  Shauna clenched her eyes. “Samuel Fuller Bishop, Jr.”

  “I think we need to all be down in the cellar. Grab what you think we’ll need. We have about ten minutes before it hits. Come on,” he said.

  Haya understood every word perfectly and gathered up the baby. Shauna was immobile.

  “I promise you,” he said. “It’s the safest place to be. I promise you. The storm is going to blow over and we’ll all be upstairs in no time.”

  Shauna followed Haya. Sam sauntered ahead of them out the door to the side of the house and heaved opened the doors to the cellar. The winds kicked up with a powerful fierceness. There was nothing like this that had ever hit the farm before while Shauna had been there and nothing like this every struck in Annapolis. She was actually feeling a relief that he had been there after all.

  Sam let the women pass him, down the stairs and he followed after. He struck a match and lit a lantern perched on a built-in space. They had light. He drew some crates for the women to sit on. The baby was howling. Shauna pressed her lips to his head to soothe him. Haya glared at Sam.

  “Is he okay?” asked Sam.

  “Fine,” said Shauna. “We just woke him up.”

  There was a set of shelves that partitioned the cellar into two. Shauna went to the other side of the shelves for privacy.

  “I am going to feed him. Comfort him. Stay where you are,” said Shauna.

  Shauna unbuttoned a flap in her dress to give her little son access. He latched on and quieted down instantly. She loved her baby boy. She held him as the storm rumbled. It was not upon them yet but any moment. Baby Samuel fell asleep. He went from hollering to snoring just like that. Shauna supposed he just needed her.

  She fastened up and carried the sleeping babe back to the other side of the shelves to join the others. The cowboy’s eyes fixed on her as she sat next to Haya. Shauna never saw a man look at her that way before. It sort of matched how she felt.

  She was weary and afraid most of the time. She had longed so hard for someone to be there. Haya was a Godsend but she did not offer the same kind of comfort that Shauna craved.

  Sam’s touch on her shoulder when she was at the barn stirred her cravings. The beautiful cowboy was so near and yet so out of reach. The impossibility of the situation made Shauna’s thoughts so wrong.

  The cellar doors rattled. It sounded like a herd of cattle were stampeding outside. Shauna knew they were safe, that the baby was safe, but still she started.

  “You are safe,” Sam assured her.

  Their eyes connected. Even in the shadowy light of the lamp-lit cellar Shauna made out the color of his eyes. Hazel color of both grey and green. His features were a sight for sore eyes.

  She had not thought the man she married was much to look at but she told herself she could get used to him. That week he was with her, he was civil. He certainly made use of her body. There were parts of their being together she liked and some she did not. She figured if she was going to be with him for a lifetime, those things would definitely improve. She made an agreement with herself to not be frightened. She gave herself permission to enjoy herself as much as possible given that her husband was not in any way abusive in bed. He was definitely there to enjoy himself as well.

  But there had been no spark. It was very mechanical and she suspected there should be more to it. Whatever wa
s lacking for her, anyway, she would have figured out a way to make up for it. He definitely seemed to get his.

  But then he was gone. And the baby came. And little Sam took up all her time when she wasn’t tending to the farm. Of course it hadn’t been for Haya showing her some things about farming, they would have starved. As it was she had no time to think of the things she and her husband shared until now. Until the cowboy showed up.

  Sitting in the cellar with nothing to do but stare at each other, those thoughts came back with power. He didn’t even have to touch her at all to stir her. And he did stir her a lot.

  Chapter Three

  Sam had taken off his holster to sit down with them. Shauna heard that familiar “Chk chchckk” Without thinking, she grabbed his gun and shot the prairie rattler that had been bunking in her cellar and that had been disturbed by their presence.

  “Jesus,” Sam declared. His eyes glared insanely.

  “Don’t swear,” admonished Shauna.

  Haya was not even moved. The baby slumbered.

  “You’re mighty sure of your shot there, missy,” he said.

  “I’m a good one,” said Shauna. “It’s the one thing I did with my father. He didn’t much care for me but I guess he figured I would do when he needed company practicing his gun shooting.”

  “Well I appreciate it, all things considered,” Sam replied.

  He took the lantern and looked around.

  “Looking for more?” asked Shauna.

  “No but I can tell you ladies that the storm has passed. We can go upstairs. Here allow me,” he said.

  He drew the latch and pushed.

  “I’ll be a bit,” he said.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked.

  Her curiosity made her forget herself and she was talking to him casually.

  “You’ll see,” he said with a smile in his tone.

  She carefully took the steps up to ground level. She handed off the baby to Haya. She was very surprised the amount of destruction such a quick burst of storm could cause. The sound of Sam’s coming up the cellar to join them caused a happiness in her. She realized she liked that he was with them. She regarded him. He had a jug on his finger.