by Merry Farmer
“Let me?” His eyes glittered with mischief.
“Yes.”
“All right.” He shrugged and they walked on.
The thought that she had won the argument, even if it was a tiny argument, had Lynne smiling all the way back to their wagon. She chatted about her thoughts on Callie’s wedding and wondered aloud about how such things were done when there was no preparation and no minister except for the odd Reverend Joseph to perform the rights. Ben was lingering around the wagon, looking like he had had another rough night with the miners in spite of being told to stay away from them.
“You should come down to the stream with us for a swim,” Lynne said with a smile for him too.
“The stream?” Ben sat a little straighter, his expression brighter.
“Or you could stay here and make sure no one else tampers with Miss Tremaine’s things,” Cade suggested, all smiles himself, none of them soft.
“Yessir.” Ben fell back into a scowl, concentrating on the piece he was whittling.
“That was rude,” Lynne told Cade after she had gathered her things for a bath and started across the dry field to the stream. “Ben is young, and young people need to play now and then.”
“Ben?” he balked. “He should be doing the job he was hired to do, not getting mixed up with rough sorts.”
“Like you?” she said.
Cade laughed. The sound was warm as sunlight and sent an odd trill through Lynne.
“I’m not a rough sort at all, believe me,” he said.
“You could have fooled me.”
What was wrong with her? She didn’t really believe Cade was a scoundrel, like the miners, any more than she believed young Ben was a troublemaker. It must have been the heat of the prairie and the monotony of the journey. It was starting to bake her head and break down the bounds of propriety.
That point was proven further when they reached the edge of the stream and she started to undress without a second thought.
“You need some help with those buttons?” Cade asked, still grinning like she was his own personal joke.
“No thank you,” she said and twisted her arms at awkward angles around her back to undo each one.
If anyone else had been nearby she would have asked them to help in a heartbeat. The stream wasn’t entirely deserted. Callie and her fiancé, John, bobbed in the slow-moving water several yards upstream, talking in low voices. A few more groups or couples waded and washed beyond them, and a few people dipped and played in the river downstream. Not many people overall, but enough to make Lynne feel as though she wasn’t doing something drastic or unusual.
She removed her blouse and skirt and petticoats and draped them over the nearest bush, but kept her chemise and drawers on.
“Turn your back,” she told Cade.
He had been scanning the area for imaginary intruders, his eyes narrowed suspiciously at the stand of bushes where she had put her clothes. As soon as she spoke, he turned to her. His expression shifted to frank appreciation, and he crossed his arms.
“I said turn your back,” Lynne squeaked and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Now why would I do a thing like that?” he said, teasing. “I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you, aren’t I?”
Lynne’s shocked modesty boiled to indignation. She dropped her arms, confident that her underthings were sturdy enough to hide what needed to be hidden. She huffed in frustration.
“Fine, then. You may not be a ruffian, but you’re certainly no gentleman.”
She finished her statement with a tilt of her chin, then turned her back on him, marching down into the stream. The water was just a shade colder than she expected it to be, but she pretended it was nothing and pushed on out to where the current flowed past her legs at thigh level and dunked to sit.
Of course, in her moment of protest, she had forgotten to bring the soap with her into the stream. Still facing away from Cade, she made a face at herself for her foolishness and dipped her head back to wet her hair. It was braided again and that braid was coiled into a knot at the back of her neck, but pulling out a few pins loosened it. She should wash her hair while she could. Which still required soap.
With a sigh of resignation and a swallow to accompany the swallowing of her pride, she twisted in the water to face Cade. He stood on the bank, arms still crossed, grin still smug, the bundle of bathing things she’d brought with her at his feet.
“I forgot the soap,” she said, not sure if she wanted him to hear her or not.
“I noticed.” His smile grew.
She waited for him to do the gentlemanly thing, but he stood still, arms still crossed.
“Could you find it and… and throw it to me, I guess?”
“Throw it to you?”
Lynne blew out an impatient breath. “Yes.”
Cade loosened his arms and bent to search through the towel and hairbrush in the bundle to find the soap.
“This soap?”
She clamped her jaw tight. If he thought she was the one in danger of an imminent attack from someone with a score to settle, then he needed to watch his own back.
“Never mind, I can do without,” she said and turned away from him. She swam farther out into the center of the stream where the current was faster and the water was deeper and cooler.
Less than a minute later, she heard splashing from the bank. Her heart shot to her throat. What if someone was coming after her after all? She spun to the bank, eyes wide. They grew even wider at what she saw.
Cade had stripped off his clothes and boots and was wading into the stream toward her. He wore nothing but a sturdy pair of drawers. His broad chest was firm with muscle and dusted with just enough hair to make her mouth go dry. His shoulders were strong and his arms corded with muscle. The plain of his stomach was flat, narrowing to a slim waist with a line of hair that ran from his navel to the waistband of his drawers. What lay under those drawers wasn’t entirely unnoticeable either.
“What are you doing?” she asked and instantly had to clear her throat.
“Bringing you the soap,” he answered.
It didn’t help Lynne’s scrambled mind at all when he came closer and reached the point where the water soaked his drawers, or when he sank into the water to swim to her. When he came to stand a few feet away, the water was above his waist, making it far too easy for Lynne to imagine that he wasn’t wearing drawers at all. The thought made it difficult for her to breath, especially with his beautiful, fine chest almost within arm’s reach.
“This is ridiculously improper,” she scolded him, then cleared her throat. What had happened to her voice? She hardly recognized it.
“What, bathing in the stream on the trail?” Cade shrugged. He handed her the soap.
She reached for it. Their fingers touched. His were far too warm and inviting. He had such large hands, hands that could do things. She was worldly enough to guess at what they were.
“You are improper,” she answered him at last, taking the soap and retreating a yard or two. “You being out here… like that.”
Cade stretched his arms to the side and looked down at himself. His satisfied smile painted a picture of a man who knew he was attractive. It sent Lynne’s temperature soaring.
“I thought I could use a bath too,” he defended himself. “John Rye’s in the water up there doing the same.”
“John Rye has a shirt on,” Lynne said.
“Well those miners down there don’t.” He nodded downstream.
Lynne took a peek to give herself a reason to stop staring at Cade. There were miners about twenty yards downstream, and most of them had their shirts off. Some of them had everything off. Lynne gasped and snapped to face Cade again, cheeks bright, which didn’t make her feel a lick better.
“All right.” She took a breath to steady herself. She could be reasonable and hold her head high no matter how strange the situation. “If you’re truly here to take a bath, then bathe.”
She tilted h
er chin up and ignored him, taking the soap and running it over her arms and under the fabric of her chemise. It was a poor excuse for a real bath, but still better than washing from a bucket with an old rag.
She almost let her guard down and enjoyed the feeling of getting clean, until she noticed that Cade was still watching her.
“Do you mind?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t have any soap.”
Her eyes wandered over the expanse of his chest, glistening with water in the sunlight now. His nipples stood out in sharp relief against his chiseled muscles. Without warning, she caught herself imagining that chest lathered with soap suds. She swallowed, hot and cold all over.
“Fine,” she said at last, breathless. “Have the soap.”
She rubbed it under her arms as one last, desperate measure to cool the situation down, then inched sideways, closer to Cade. She extended her arm to its full length and handed him the slippery cake of soap.
Cade reached for it, but as their fingers touched, Lynne pulled back. The soap tumbled out of her grasp and into the water before Cade had hold of it.
“Oh!” Lynne gasped as the current caught it and whisked it away. “Hurry! Get it!”
She lurched toward the spinning cake as it rushed past her. Laughing, Cade lunged after it, diving into the water. Lynne shrieked as he splashed her. She rubbed water out of her eyes as quickly as she could, then scrambled after Cade. As far as she knew, that was the only cake of soap they had for the entire trip. She wasn’t about to lose it so early in the journey.
“Get it! Get it!” she shouted, splashing and scrambling over Cade as he half swam, half floated on the stream’s current. Lynne reached out as the soap bobbed just out of reach, her arms tangling with one of Cade’s as he cut in front of her.
“Well I would if you weren’t in the way,” he said.
Lynne tried to reach farther, but the bulk of Cade’s body was in the way. His arm brushed against her waist. One of his legs bumped against hers, sending her careening off-balance. He was right there to scoop her up, though, and just about the time she was able to orient herself in the rushing water, the current running over her shoulders and around her chest, it dawned on her that Cade might have impeded her efforts on purpose. How she got there she wasn’t entirely sure, but she was firmly in Cade’s arms. Her chest pressed against his, nothing but the wet fabric of her chemise separating them. His hands spread across her back, holding her tight. His muscled thigh nestled between her legs, and with a gulp she realized she was sitting more or less straddling his hips. Her feet weren’t touching the ground. Every part of her that touched him, from her taut nipples to the aching juncture between her thighs, was alive with wonder.
“Now isn’t this an interesting predicament,” he said, smile as broad as the prairie.
“Is it?” She tilted her chin up, pretending every part of her wasn’t quivering with anticipation and… and a dozen other emotions too tempting to think about.
“It is,” Cade answered and brought his mouth slanting down on top of hers.
Chapter Five
If the sky had opened up and gold nuggets had rained down on them, Cade wouldn’t have noticed. Lynne was hot and supple in his arms. Her body was as soft and curvy as he had imagined it to be through every long, restless night, since he’d first laid eyes on her. Since she’d one-upped him by riding Arrow. Her lips were as sweet as nectar. What was more, she parted those lips and let him tease his tongue against them, let him taste as deeply as he had longed to, without a second of hesitation. Her body melded against him.
His response was strong and immediate. He pulled her closer, lowering a hand to cup her backside and press her against the growing spear of his erection. A tiny voice at the back of his head told him he was a damned fool for treating her like a saloon girl, but she didn’t offer up a bit of resistance to the pressure of his hips or to his invasion of her mouth. In fact, she hummed with delight.
The sound that came from low in her throat must have startled her, because a heartbeat later she gasped and jerked back. Not enough to signal to him that she wanted out of his arms, though. Her dark eyes were round with surprise and her mouth hung open, but that reaction was short-lived. Her gaze grew heavy-lidded and focused on his mouth. Cade was ready to kiss her again the second she leaned toward him. This time, she gave as much to the kiss as he did.
It was over far too soon.
“What are we doing?” she hissed, pulling away in earnest.
“So you do like me after all.” Cade smiled. Her kisses were better than Christmas and the Fourth of July rolled up in gold and ice cream.
She didn’t have a reply for him, only more of that delicious look of surprise—like she might dive in for another go. He spared her the trouble of making the decision by scooping her up in his arms for one more searing kiss.
The sound of blissful surrender rose from her again before turning into an indignant squeak. This time when she pulled away, Cade knew he wasn’t going to hold her again. At least not today.
“You can’t do that,” she said, breathing heavily.
“Why not?” He swam closer to her, but kept his hands to himself. It was a monumental effort. His staff was throbbing with disappointment between his legs as the cold water of the stream helped him to settle.
“Well,” Lynne began, fumbling for an answer. “There are people nearby, for one.”
Cade glanced upstream to where Callie and John were still floating and talking and not noticing anything around them. He peeked downstream to the miners, who were busy with their own concerns.
“I don’t think anyone is watching,” he told her, unable to resist adding, “You’re not that interesting.”
To his utter delight, Lynne yelped in protest. “You are an absolute terror, Cade Lawson.”
“And you like me.” He smiled with his whole heart, his body feeling light as a feather, with the potential to be hard as granite in a flash.
“I do not,” she tried to protest.
“Oh, I think that kiss said otherwise.”
“That kiss was a wretched mistake,” she insisted.
“I don’t think so.”
She backed slowly away from him against the current. He followed her, like a wolf stalking his prey. The time had passed to catch her for real, but he reached out his hands toward her as if he intended to kiss her again and more.
“I do think so.” Lynne continued to back away, face as red as if she’d been burned by the sun.
“Then why don’t you kiss me again, and we’ll find out for sure.”
She stopped where she was and crossed her arms with a huff. He paused at a distance that was just barely respectable. She must have sensed he wouldn’t cross the line again, because her shoulders relaxed and one eyebrow rose.
“You, Mr. Lawson, are no kind of gentleman,” she said.
He planted his feet on the bottom of the stream and stood, taking the water to a level just under his chest. “Did I ever say I was?”
“You—” She stopped and tipped her head sideways as if trying to recall whether he had or not. She shook her head. “Well, you aren’t. No true gentleman would treat a lady the way you’ve been treating me.”
“And what a shame that is.” He grinned for all he was worth.
If possible, her cheeks flared an even deeper red. Yes, Lynne Tremaine was independent and brave and not completely averse to being swept away by the baser joys in life. Of all things, that made him admire her more.
“We’re on the trail,” he reasoned, inching closer to her. “The rules of polite society don’t apply here.”
“Well, they should.”
She squeezed her crossed arms tighter. The effect was to accentuate the delicious curves of her breasts, barely hidden by a layer of wet chemise. She didn’t even know how appealing she was to a man.
“Should the rules of polite society apply to your friend Callie up there? You planning to go up there and tell her to cover herself in
public and not go swimming with men she hardly knows?” He nodded upstream to where Callie and John were wading out of the water. They both wore only their underthings, which were now wet and clinging.
Lynne followed his glance, chewing her bottom lip. She must have noticed the effects of water on Callie’s underthings, because she took a sudden look down at her own state of undress and gasped. She dropped her arms and pulled the fabric of her chemise so that it didn’t cling to her breasts. Cade considered it a great loss.
“You might not have a problem with disregarding the proprieties of civilized people,” she said, starting for the river bank, “but I do.”
“I’m sure you do.” Cade nodded, feigning seriousness and watching her back—and more importantly, her backside—as she waded out of the water and onto the shore. Her rump had the perfect amount of curve. He could still feel it in his hand. It was a crying shame that he hadn’t had the chance to close both of his hands around the ample shape of her rear.
“What are you looking at?” she demanded.
Cade blinked, only slightly ashamed at being caught. “Your derriere,” he answered.
Lynne gasped and covered her backside with her hands as she rushed the rest of the way out of the water. “You’re impossible,” she said.
“And you’re beautiful,” he answered quietly, hoping she hadn’t heard.
His manhood had calmed down enough to not be a total embarrassment to him as he waded out of the water. If this was what an afternoon of bathing in a stream was like, he wondered what they would get up to when they reached the junction of the Platte Rivers. He wouldn’t mind reaching a certain other junction at that point.
“Oh!”
The sharp cry Lynne gave as she bent to retrieve her towel from the bush where they’d left their clothes dampened Cade’s errant ardor. She backpedaled from the bush, clutching the towel to her chest.
“What is it?” he asked, pushing faster through the shallows.
