Her heart soared as his manner of kissing her intensified. Over and over his mouth commanded hers, coaxing and leading her to return his affectionate endeavors. He paused, pulling her arms from around him and repositioning them around his. Then he drew her against him, his arms banding about her, pulling her flush with his body as he continued to draw pleasure from her mouth—as she continued to draw pleasure from his.
Even in her dreams, Lark had never imagined such desire—such warmth and fascination! His powerful hands tightened at her waist—traveled over her back and shoulders—clutched her hair in his strong fists—and all the while he kissed her, enrapturing her with ravenous wanting. His mouth left hers for a moment, and she sensed his breath was labored as he trailed moist kisses over her neck and throat.
She heard him swear under his breath as he put a hand to the back of her head and drew her mouth to his once more.
Slater had thought one kiss would satisfy him—at least for a time. He thought if he kissed Lark—if he quit dancing around his yearning for her and simply had her for a moment—then perhaps his blood would cool and he could return to the man he’d been before his brother had put her in his path. Yet he’d been wrong—ignorantly wrong! He wondered now if he’d ever be able to release her. The sweet flavor of her mouth owned him—broke him like a beaten stallion—and he feared he might not be able to stop, to let her go without…
“Uncle Slater? I’m scared.”
Lark gasped as Slater broke the seal of their kiss and looked down to Charlie.
“Charlie?” Slater panted. “What’re you doin’ out of bed, puppy?”
Charlie brushed the tears from his cheeks with the backs of his hands, rubbed his eyes, and sniffled. “I’m scared…and Johnny just told me to hush,” the child answered.
Lark wiped the moisture from her lips as Slater released her and hunkered down before the boy. “Well, how about you and me sit up for a minute until you’re feelin’ better? All right?” Slater said.
Charlie nodded and smiled.
“And if you still like sleepin’ by yourself,” Slater said, looking up to Lark, “then you best get to your bed too.”
Lark couldn’t speak. She wondered if she’d be able to walk, for her arms and legs felt as weak as a newborn calf’s. Still, she managed to nod. Picking up her book with one trembling hand, she made to move past Slater and Charlie.
But Slater reached out and caught hold of her arm. “We don’t need to dance around that no more,” he whispered. “It’s done…and we’re good, right?”
Lark nodded.
“Come on, Charlie,” Slater said, taking the boy’s hand. “Let’s watch the fire burn down a bit more.”
Charlie followed Slater to the large chair near the hearth. Slater wadded up a small quilt in his lap, and the boy curled up on it, just like a puppy. Lark smiled as she heard Slater begin to hum a soothing melody.
It was hours before Lark found sleep—before her arms and legs quit tingling—before the sense of Slater’s mouth against her own lessened enough for slumber to find her. Yet even in sleeping she did not escape him, for in her dreams she lived the moment over and over again. In her dreams, Slater kissed her—all through the night.
CHAPTER TEN
“Good morning, Lark,” Katherine cheerfully greeted as she entered the kitchen the next morning.
Though she’d had little sleep, Lark had been up for some time preparing breakfast. She was surprised to see Katherine enter the kitchen before Slater and Tom. After all, the sun had just begun to peek over the horizon. Somehow, she’d assumed Katherine would have lingered in resting. Lark found she was pleased in knowing Katherine was an early riser also.
“Hello, Katherine,” Lark greeted in return. She felt an uncomfortable pinch in her bosom when she saw that, although Katherine’s voice was full of happy greeting, her eyes were red and swollen from weeping.
“Oh no,” Katherine exclaimed, “please call me Katie! You make me feel older than the hills with Katherine,” she said, coming to stand beside Lark. “May I help?”
“Set the table perhaps?” Lark offered.
Katherine clapped her hands together, her smile broadening. “I’d love to! I need work…to keep myself busy. We can’t just sit down and give up…right?”
Lark offered a sympathetic smile. “No,” she agreed. “We can’t do that.”
Katherine nodded. Lark could see she was struggling to withhold her tears. She cleared her throat as she took the plates down from the cupboard.
“Slater tells me you’re a wonderful cook,” she said, going to the table to distribute the plates.
“Really?” Lark asked. Her arms involuntarily broke into goose bumps as the memory of all the glorious sensations Slater had slathered her with the night before returned. “I would’ve guessed he’d more likely have told you about what an unaccomplished cattle brander I am.”
Katherine giggled, opened the drawer containing the forks and spoons, and began to count out utensils. Nodding, she said, “He did mention it…and I can’t wait to meet your Black-Eyed Sue.”
Lark giggled, thinking not of the bull that would forever own a female name but of Slater and Tom doubled over, eyes moist with mirth. “I can just imagine those two as boys,” Lark said. “They must have given their mother fits.”
Katherine laughed. “Oh yes! We all did. My mama was their mama’s cousin. I lived very near here…and we all grew up together. My John was our dear friend as well.” She paused, seeming to refortify herself, and then continued. “You should’ve seen Slater and Tom…rambunctious as anything. My mama used to say gettin’ them Evans boys in line was like herdin’ cats.”
Lark giggled at the comparison. She could well imagine it was appropriate.
“They were always runnin’ around half-neked, wallerin’ in the dirt, and swimmin’ in the pond,” Katherine continued. “It was wonderful! We were happy children, with no cares or worries. Then Slater left…and everything changed.”
“I understand he was very young when he first left home,” Lark prodded. Perhaps Katherine would be more forthcoming with information concerning Slater’s years away from the ranch. In the nearly four months since she’d arrived at the ranch, Lark found this to be a subject of conversation that was nearly taboo. Her excitement heightened as she began to wonder if Katherine might not find it so unmentionable.
She smiled as Katherine indeed nodded. “He was only fourteen when he left. I couldn’t believe it! None of us could…but especially me. I suppose it was because I was a girl and couldn’t imagine why anyone would ever want to leave home. I thought I might wither up and die without him.” She paused. Lark could see the memory caused her pain. Still, she forced a smile and continued, “But that’s when my interest turned to John. In the end, he was the perfect man for me.” She dabbed a tear from her cheek with her apron.
“Will you tell me about him one day?” Lark asked. She understood mourning and grief all too well. Though she knew Katherine must be ever so tired of weeping—of heartache and pain—it would help her to talk of John and their life together. It would help her children as well.
Katherine smiled and took Lark’s hand in her own. “Do you know what I think?” she asked.
“What?” Lark asked in return.
“I think those rambunctious, half-neked Evans boys have got ahold of a real treasure in you, Miss Lark Lawrence.”
Lark smiled at her. Katherine Thornquist was a kind woman—a rare jewel herself—for her soul was as beautiful as her face and figure.
“And of course I’d love to tell you about my John. I think you know that.” She lowered her voice as tears sprang to her eyes. “Though…let’s wait until we have a moment to ourselves.”
Lark smiled, for she’d heard the heavy footsteps descending the stairs a well. Slater and Tom were awake.
Katherine quickly dried her eyes and sniffled back her own tears, just as Tom said, “Well, good mornin’, ladies!” He rather lumbered across the kitchen
to where Katherine and Lark stood at the stove. Draping one large arm over Katherine’s shoulders, the other over Lark’s, he chuckled and kissed Katherine on the cheek. “How’d you sleep, honey?” he asked her.
“Better,” she said, affectionately patting his cheek.
“And you, darlin’?” he asked Lark.
“Fine,” she lied. She smiled when Tom kissed her cheek as well.
“I slept like the dead,” he yawned, “though I didn’t much feel like crawlin’ outta bed.”
“Mornin’,” Slater mumbled. Lark looked back to see him rather stumble into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes like a sleepy toddler. He plopped down into a chair at the table, covering his mouth as a long, deep yawn swept over him.
“You look like hell, Slater,” Tom chuckled.
“Well, thank you, Tom,” Slater grumbled.
“What’s the matter?” Tom asked.
Slater looked up, his stare locking with Lark’s for a moment. Instantly, her heart began to hammer, her insides to tremble. Her mouth watered as she let her gaze linger on his lips a moment—as the memory of his kiss washed over her.
“I didn’t sleep too good,” he said at last. “Which reminds me…Charlie’s up in my bed, Kate. I couldn’t get him to go back to sleep unless I agreed to let him come with me.”
“What?” Katherine exclaimed. “Oh, Slater! I’m so sorry! He’s just had an awful time since John…since his daddy’s been gone. I thought for certain Johnny would take care of him. I’m so sorry.”
Slater simply shook his head. “It’s all right,” he said. “The poor little pup was plum tuckered out.” Slater grinned and added, “He sure is a squirmy little feller…just like a worm outta dirt.”
Lark watched as Slater’s gaze lingered on Katherine, as concern caused his handsome brow to pucker into a frown. “How’re you doin’ this mornin’?” he asked.
Katherine smiled at him—lovingly smiled at him. “Better,” she said. “Much better.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Slater said, winking at her.
Lark tried to force the jealousy from rising in her throat, but it was difficult. She thought of the night before—of Slater’s wanton affections. Surely he cared for her. He was far too disciplined—far too driven where work was concerned to be weakened simply by desire. Surely he cared for her.
Still, he cared for Katherine too. It was obvious in the way he smiled at her now.
Katherine placed a hand to his cheek then, and Lark lost the battle—her jealousy fanned.
“You’ve got a priceless jewel in this little Lark, Slater,” she said, nodding at Lark.
Slater smiled. “I know.”
Lark was barely able to contain the gasp in her bosom. She couldn’t believe he’d said what he had! Did he truly mean it? Had he only just confessed to Katherine that he valued Lark?
“She makes dang good cookies,” he said then, however. Lark’s heart ached a little in realizing he was teasing. He chuckled, adding, “And she ain’t ever tried to make me eat rabbit.”
Tom smiled, and Katherine sighed wistfully.
“Rabbit…how awful,” she said. “I’d almost forgotten poor little Jenny. You know…I’ve felt bad about that my whole life, Slater. I’m sorry we had that hard winter and you all had to eat her.”
Tom choked. He’d been drinking a glass of milk and now spit it from his nose as he began to cough and laugh.
“Thomas Evans!” Katherine scolded. “It isn’t one bit funny.” Lark noted the way Katherine bit her lip to keep from laughing, however.
“Oh, never mind him, Kate,” Slater grumbled. “He ain’t never cared a lick for my tender feelings over Jenny.” He looked to Lark and winked. “But Lark does…don’t you, baby?”
Lark nodded and couldn’t help but smile at him. After all, she did care. Oh, he and Tom often made light of the rabbit that had been slaughtered to make stew so long ago. Still, deep in her heart, Lark knew it had been very traumatic to Slater—that it still bothered him. She did understand.
“Mama!” Lizzy chirped as she hurried to the table. “It smells so good in here! What’s for breakfast?”
“Mornin’, Mama,” Johnny grumbled as he slunk into the kitchen as well. “Mornin’, Uncle Tom, Uncle Slater…Miss Lark.”
Everyone offered good mornings in return. In the next moment, everyone smiled and stood silent as Charlie’s tiny feet could be heard padding down the stairs. Lark bit her lip, delighted as the little boy came stumbling into the kitchen dragging one of Slater’s blankets behind him.
“Good mornin’, Mama,” he mumbled.
“Oh, honey!” Katherine said, rushing to her son and scooping him up into her arms. “What’re you doin’ up so early? You beat the sun this mornin’.”
“I heard talkin’,” he mumbled. He laid his head over his mother’s shoulder as she struggled to pull the quilt up over him.
Lark smiled as she saw the boy lift a droopy little arm and wave to Slater. Slater chuckled, nodded, and winked at the boy. The affectionate, though silent, interaction between Slater and Charlie caused Lark’s heart to leap. She thought of the patience Slater must have had to muster in giving up his sleep and comfort for Charlie’s.
“Let’s have you lie down for just a while longer, sweetie,” Katherine said. “You’ll be a bear if I let you stay up now.” She looked to Lark and whispered, “I’ll be right back.”
“It’s fine,” Lark told her as she spooned eggs from the skillet onto the plates of those already seated at the table.
“You children are up awful early,” Tom said as Katherine took Charlie into the other room.
“Mama says we need to earn our keep,” Lizzy explained. “She says we can’t just stay here like a bunch of squatters.”
“I mean to help with the chores and such,” Johnny added. “We’re good workers.”
Lark’s heart hurt. She didn’t want the children to feel like they had to work to stay at the ranch. They were children, after all. She watched as Slater and Tom exchanged frowns.
“Well…well, I’m sure we can use the help,” Tom began.
“But the things you children will be needed to help with…well, they won’t need doin’ until a little later in the mornin’ from now on,” Slater added.
Lizzy looked somewhat relieved, but Johnny appeared offended.
“I can work as hard as any cowboy you got on this ranch,” he grumbled.
“That’s true,” Slater said. “The boy does have a point, Tom.”
“Yes, he does,” Tom agreed. “We might should put him out with the boys a couple days a week. Especially since we’re short one hand.”
Johnny sighed with pride, though he frowned in the next moment. “Why are ya short a hand?” he asked.
Tom shrugged, “Oh, ’cause Slater beat the tar outta him for…” He glanced up to Lark. “For bad behavior.”
“You beat the tar out of a cowboy for bad behavior, Uncle Slater?” Johnny asked, his eyes widening with admiration and curiosity.
“It weren’t just plain bad behavior, boy,” Slater mumbled, taking a bite of the bread Lark had placed on his plate. Lark frowned, the memory of Chet Leigh’s attack racing into her thoughts.
“Now, Lizzy,” Tom began, “Lark won’t need you up this early in the mornin’…will ya, honey?” He looked to Lark with a conspiratorial wink.
“No,” Lark said. “I usually don’t get started cleaning house for quite a while.”
“Well…can I dust the parlor?” Lizzy tentatively asked. “There’s so many interestin’ things in there. I’d love to dust it. Can that be my job?”
“If you really want it to be,” Lark said, tenderly brushing the girl’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Do you want jam on your bread?”
Lizzy nodded with delighted anticipation—watched, enthralled, as Lark spread the shiny red strawberry jam over a slice of bread.
“Then, since you’re already up today, why don’t you start dusting the parlor as soon as the sun’s
up?” Lark told the little girl.
“I will!” Lizzy chimed, picking up the slice of jam-slathered bread and moaning with delight as she bit into it.
“He’s just so tired out,” Katherine sighed as she stepped into the kitchen again. She shook her head, placing a hand on Slater’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Slater. I’m sure he kept you up all night.”
“Not at all,” Slater lied. He glanced to Lark and grinned. “I was already sleepin’ fitful.”
“That shoulder botherin’ you again, boy?” Tom asked.
“Among other things,” Slater said.
Lark felt her eyes widen, however, as Tom looked to her, smiled, and offered a knowing wink.
“When’s Thanksgivin’, Mama?” Lizzy asked then. “I can’t wait for Thanksgivin’!”
“You ask her that every dang mornin’, Lizzy,” Johnny grumbled. “You know we still got five more days ’til it comes.”
Lizzy stuck her tongue out at her brother, and Lark stifled a giggle as Katherine scolded her.
“I love Thanksgivin’!” Lizzy said. “Will we have turkey?”
“Yes, ma’am, we will,” Tom said. “Me and your Uncle Slater will fetch it fresh the day before.”
“Do the other cowboys come in for Thankgivin’ with us?” Johnny asked.
Lark smiled. It was obvious where Johnny’s ambitions were.
“They all got their own plans this year, I’m afraid, Johnny,” Slater said. “But you’ll get to spend plenty of time with them this week anyhow…so don’t you worry.”
“And don’t you be encouragin’ my boy to run off to cowboyin’ like somebody else I know did once,” Katherine said, wagging an index finger at Slater.
“Don’t you worry, Kate,” Slater said, smiling. “Johnny can cowboy right here for me and Tom.”
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