by Anna Schmidt
Seeking to give as good as she got, she thrust her hand down the waistband of his trousers and clutched his manhood. His gasp of surprise and pleasure was all she needed to keep going. She opened the buttons of his fly and pushed at his clothing, wanting it gone. He had bundled her riding pants around her knees.
“Help me,” she said as she sat up and pushed her pants to her ankles. He pulled them free, cast them aside, then shed the rest of his clothes. She followed his lead.
They stopped, their breathing like the exhaust of a train as they stared at each other’s naked bodies.
“I knew you were beautiful,” he said, his voice a rasp of passion, “but, honey, never could I have even begun to imagine…”
She held out her arms to him. “Shut up and love me,” she pleaded.
But still, he hesitated. “Be sure this is what you want, Amanda. No regrets when dawn comes.”
“No regrets,” she whispered. “Not ever. No matter what happens.”
Her willingness to go wherever he might lead inspired him. Their first time was an explosion set in motion by the buildup of desire they had fought since the day they’d met. But later, after they had dozed in the haven of each other’s arms, he woke her with a kiss. She turned and pressed her body to his. She reached to touch him, but he gently pushed her hand away. “Your turn,” he said as he kissed her throat, suckled her breasts, moved lower until he was kissing her most vulnerable and intimate core.
She writhed beneath him, tugging, pleading with her hands and gasps to end the sweet torment. And when he entered her and held himself back, she lifted her hips to meet his, insisting on this new dance she had learned all too well, and he was lost. And afterward, as she lay beside him, curled into the shelter of his body, he heard her whisper, “It’s almost dawn—the dawning of the first day of us.”
Nine
Amanda squinted into the rising sun and stretched her legs. Overnight her muscles had stiffened. She giggled. Served her right after what she and Seth had done throughout the night. She pushed herself to a sitting position and looked around. Seth was standing on the top of a rise. He was fully dressed and staring out at the landscape.
“Good morning,” she said softly.
He took a sip of water from the canteen he held and grinned. “Ah, Sleeping Beauty.” He wiped the rim with his bandana and passed it to her. “You should get dressed and get a head start, so there are no questions once you reach town. I’ll keep you in sight just to be safe, but come in later.”
She took a swallow and made a face. The water tasted like minerals.
He hesitated before crouching close to her. “Look, Amanda, there’s a good deal I can’t tell you, but what I can tell you is that you need to keep the Baxter kid in town. He’s asking for trouble riding out the way he does. Talk to his father if you have to, but…”
“His father would beat him badly. I will not be responsible for that boy enduring more abuse.”
“Then talk to him, because he’s asking to get himself killed if he keeps doing what he’s doing.”
“Why do you care?”
“He’s a kid.”
“It’s more than that,” she argued. “Tell me why you care so much what happens to a boy you barely know.”
He let out a breath that showed steam in the chill of the morning air. He stared toward the distant hills, then finally looked back at her. “I’ve got a younger brother his age, okay? Kids that age think nothing can happen to them.”
“Were you that way at their age?”
He gave her a half smile and stood. “Worse,” he said as he walked away to lead her horse closer to their camp. “Go wash up. I’ll saddle your horse. You’ve got more than an hour’s ride ahead of you. Best get started.”
He’d said nothing about their passion of the night before other than that stupid joke about Sleeping Beauty. Did it mean so little to him after all? She splashed cold water from the creek on her face and twisted her hair into a knot that would fit beneath the crown of her hat. When she stood and turned away from the creek, he was watching her.
“What?” she said irritably.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he said softly, and she had the oddest feeling that he was unaware he had spoken aloud.
“I’m a mess,” she countered as she strode to her horse and mounted. “With any luck the others will be at breakfast, and I can slip by and get changed before they see me.”
He had been holding the reins to keep the horse steady. As he handed them to her, he took her hand. “Amanda, there’s something I need to finish, but once that’s done…”
The last thing she wanted was an empty promise of someday. “Yeah, well, you know where to find me,” she replied, and pulled her hand free as she kneed the horse’s flanks.
She was halfway back to the main trail when she heard him shout, “Talk to the Baxter boy!”
Without turning to look at him, she waved and urged her horse to pick up the pace. The very idea that there could ever be anything more than one night of passion between them was ludicrous. He kept secrets, and on top of that, her family would never accept him—not her mother, and certainly not Jess. After all, she had known what she was getting into—one night was all she had asked for, and now, she’d had that. Best put the whole business behind her, she thought as she drove her mount hard to make up time.
Later that morning, after she had washed and changed and brushed the tangles his fingers had created from her hair, she made her way to the Baxter house and was stunned to find Ezra Baxter waiting for her.
“Good morning, Amanda,” he said, dropping all pretense at the formalities usually observed between employer and employee. “How is your mother?”
“She is well, thank you.” She felt the need to offer some explanation for not getting back to town until that morning. “In fact, my entire family had gathered, and we were…”
“No need to explain yourself, Amanda. I am pleased you enjoyed the time with them.” He cleared his throat. They were still standing at the gate where he had intercepted her before she could reach the back entrance. From the corner of her eye, she was aware of Kitty watching them under the pretense of hanging laundry.
Apparently, Ezra was also aware of his housekeeper’s curiosity. “Shall we?” he asked, indicating the front porch.
“Of course.”
Once they were seated on two straight-backed chairs made of cypress wood, Amanda folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to explain why he had chosen not to go to the bank at his usual hour. When he did not speak, but instead relaxed into the chair and stared at the main street, she felt something must be amiss. “Has something happened, Mr. Baxter? Are the children…”
“The children are fine, Amanda. I am so pleased with their progress that I gave them the day off.”
“I see.”
“I thought we might spend the day together, you and I. After all, not to pressure you, my dear, but you have not yet given me your answer.”
“My answer?”
“To my proposal of marriage. With you at my side, there would be no need to send the children east.” He chuckled. “When I spoke of this to them, they were delighted. It seems they have grown quite fond of you.”
Amanda could barely find words. “You…surely you can see that what delights them is the idea they will not need to leave their home. You hardly need me to marry you for that.” She stood and reached for her satchel. “I believe we have had a serious misunderstanding, Mr. Baxter.”
“Ezra,” he said calmly.
“I am Eli and Ellie’s tutor, sir—nothing more. As for you and me, we are employer and employee—nothing more. I barely know you, and you most certainly do not know me. Either we speak no more of this idea that you and I might ever…”
“I could ruin you,” he said in that same calm, singsong way she’d heard hi
m speak to people on the street. He might as easily be saying, “Have a nice day.”
Amanda froze and slowly turned to face him. “Are you threatening me?”
“Do you care at all for the happiness of my children?” he countered.
“Of course I do.”
“Then may I suggest that at the moment your reputation is in question all over town—those evening meetings with the pharmacist, bringing him here to my home at midday under the guise of teaching my son some game? At the moment, marrying me rather than James Matthews would be the wiser choice, clearing up any question of your character. In addition, making a home for Eli and Ellie, living here in this house with the freedom—and finances—to do whatever you want in terms of furnishing the rooms, taking your rightful place as one of the community’s most respected women…”
It hit her that he had said nothing about Seth. He thought she was romantically involved with Jim Matthews. It explained his sudden urgency to get her answer to his proposal. “I was unaware that my personal life was a factor in my employment, Mr. Baxter. If that is the case…”
His breath came in a rush of exasperation, and his hands, while they remained in his lap, tightened into fists. “Why do you insist on provoking me, Amanda? I should not need to remind you that your future is at best precarious. I am offering you security.”
I don’t want security. I want romance, adventure, love.
“I appreciate that it may be difficult for you to understand, Mr. Baxter, but times are changing—women, in particular, are changing when it comes to how they view the future and their lives.”
The man’s face went nearly purple with horror. “Please do not tell me that you have become infatuated with those women who insist on the vote and such.”
He had given her the opening she needed. “Could you not marry such a woman, Ezra?” She took care to frame her facial expression in a concerned frown.
“I could not.” He was practically blubbering. “Under no circumstances could I ever stand for such foolishness. A woman belongs…”
“In the home?”
“Precisely.”
She picked up her satchel. “Then we have nothing further to discuss, Ezra. May I assume you would prefer that I no longer tutor Eli and Ellie?”
She understood by his expression that his first instinct was to terminate her employment, but the children were so close to achieving the goals he had set. Furthermore, if she would not marry him, then he would send them east, after apparently telling them they did not have to go. She almost felt sorry for him and decided to ease his pain.
“May I suggest that since we are nearly at the end of the school semester, I could complete the work with the children? Of course, there would be terms.”
“Terms?”
“There would be no more talk of a union between us.”
He smirked. “You took care of that with your obvious enchantment with those foolish suffragists.”
“And there will be absolutely no discussion of my personal life,” she added.
He sighed. “I suppose your politics and those of the druggist are a better match, although why you would turn your back on a house like this, and all the money you could ever hope to have, puzzles me.”
What puzzled her was where he planned to get all that money, since town gossips repeatedly hinted that the bank was in trouble. “I have one final condition.”
He scowled at her the way he had before he got it into his head that they might wed. “Do not push your luck with me, young lady.”
“I wish to be paid what I am owed to date, and going forward I wish to be paid—in full—weekly.”
He stood and faced her. His anger was visible in his flushed cheeks, his bulging eyes, and the way his breath wheezed through his flared nostrils like a bull preparing to charge. She had the sudden image of Eli’s black eye and the bruise on Ellie’s arm. She had never known his wife, but a vision of a woman enduring his abuse flashed through her mind. Every bone in her body pleaded to take a step back.
Instead, she straightened to her full height, eye to eye, and refused to blink or flinch. “Do we have an agreement, Mr. Baxter?” She thrust out her hand, and to her shock, he took it, pumped it once, and then brushed past her on his way down the street to the bank.
She had won. She had stood her ground, kept her wits about her, and won.
The feeling was incredible, and she wanted to share her triumph with someone.
Not just someone, she thought. Seth.
* * *
The first person Seth saw as he rode into town was the banker. Ezra Baxter was leaving the house, slamming his derby onto his head. He hurried down the street, oblivious to traffic as he crossed the rutted road. He looked upset, but then Seth tried to recall if he had ever encountered Ezra Baxter when he didn’t look like he could chew nails. Word had it that his bank was on the verge of failure. This was gossip, and most people paid little attention, but Seth had his sources.
As he neared the boardinghouse, he spotted Amanda, standing at the adobe entrance to the Baxter house. She waved, and that surprised him, since they really hadn’t parted on the best of terms.
The woman constantly surprised and confused him. He was a man who prided himself on his ability to read beneath the surface and get to the heart of what a person thought or felt. With Amanda he was never quite sure. Of course, that was part of the attraction—that, and the fact that she was impossibly beautiful, and making love to her had been like nothing he had ever experienced.
He tipped two fingers to his hat and rode to the boardinghouse. He was aware of her watching him, but when he made no move to ride in her direction, she returned to the Baxter house and went inside. Knowing he should be relieved, all he really felt was disappointed.
“Grow up, Grover,” he grumbled as he tied his horse to a hitching post and climbed the steps to the front door. He made it past the parlor and up the stairs without running into anyone. When he reached his room and opened the door, the first thing he saw was another note.
Bank. Rooftop. Saturday night. Nine o’clock.
Okay, this was either a setup or a way to distract him from whatever was really going down. The confusing thing was that the timing and place in no way matched with when the garrison’s payroll wagon would be headed for the fort, or the schedule of the train. It had nothing to do with the abandoned Frost ranch and the activity he’d observed there. He really needed to talk to the Baxter kid and find out what he knew.
He glanced out the window that overlooked the backyard of the banker’s home. The housekeeper was sweeping the tiled steps that led into the kitchen. There was no sign of Amanda or the children. He saw movement behind the row of three windows framed in painted wood toward the front of the house. A glimmer of white reminded him of the blouse Amanda often wore. She was teaching. The windows were the library.
After changing to a clean shirt and tucking it in, he ran down the stairs and out the door. Circling around to the back of the house, he crossed into the Baxter yard and knocked lightly at the kitchen door, hoping no one would be there. He was in luck.
He entered the kitchen, where he spotted the boy’s baseball and glove and picked them up. As he passed the corridor that led to the bedrooms, he could hear the housekeeper moving around down there. When he reached the library, the doors were closed, but he could hear Amanda’s voice.
He stopped outside the door to listen.
“I understand that your father is so pleased by the progress you have both made that he’s given us the day off. I have to agree that the research you’ve done on your studies of the geology of the area has been exceptional, Eli. Of course, you have a way to go to equal your sister when it comes to your writing skills. As for you, Ellie, that story you wrote for Friday’s assignment was poignant and lovely. You’ve both done excellent work.”
Seth admired the way s
he complimented the kid without leaving out the sister’s accomplishments as well. He heard a boy’s voice shifting between the registers of adolescence and adult.
“Do we get time outside then, Miss Porterfield?”
“You do indeed. However, I’m afraid Mr. Matthews will not be able to join us today. He sent word that he has no one to mind the store.”
Seth slid the door open just wide enough for him to sidle through. He tossed the ball in the air and caught it. “Maybe I could be of help?”
Amanda’s blush fueled his desire—his desire to impress her. Eli watched him with mixed emotions. He really wanted to play ball. On the other hand, he clearly recognized Seth, and the expression in his eyes was one of wariness.
“You’re that man,” the girl blurted. “Father said we should stay away from you. He would be upset to find you here. He doesn’t like you, mister.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe if he got to know me…”
“What are you doing here?” Amanda asked in a low voice meant only for his ears.
He tossed the ball again, caught it, and then lobbed it to her. In spite of herself, the Baxter girl giggled.
“Are you any good?” The boy seemed to have found his nerve. He had stretched himself to his full height, which came close to equaling Seth’s.
“Why don’t we find out, Eli?” Seth handed him the glove and headed for the door. When the three remained as still as statues, he grinned. “Well? You coming or not?”
Outside, he took the ball from Amanda and tossed it to Eli. “Show me what you’ve got,” he said as he crouched into a catcher’s position.
“You’d better take the glove,” Eli said.
“Just throw your best pitch.” Seth held his hands to receive the ball. Eli wound up and then threw a blistering fastball that Seth dropped as soon as it struck his hand. “Pretty good.”
“Pretty good?” Eli held out the glove again. “You want this now, or do you want me to burn you again?”
Seth stood and met the boy halfway to get the glove. “Sure. Thanks.”
