Captive Eden

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Captive Eden Page 4

by Brenda Williamson


  Brant considered his father’s words of wisdom. They seemed one-sided. What of a woman not taking a son from his father?

  Chapter Three

  Eden woke from a frightful nightmare she couldn’t remember. The rain beat against the buffalo hides stretched over poles to make up Brant’s lodge roof. She wiped the tears from her face and sat up in the darkness. A sob hiccupped out and she brushed away more tears.

  She had her chemise back in place and loosely tied, but keeping her blouse closed was impossible without the missing buttons. Brushing back her hair, she looked at the door flap bouncing in the opening. The low howl of wind worried her. She thought of Charlie.

  Brant wouldn’t do anything to her just for checking on him, she decided. She crawled toward the flap and glanced out. The rain made her hesitant, the thunder and the flash of lightning pushed her back inside. She reassured herself that Charlie was safe with his grandmother. She didn’t need to check on him.

  “It is tough to form a plan of escape in a storm.” Brant startled her from his place in the shadows on the opposite side of the lodge.

  “I wanted… I needed… I wasn’t thinking about leaving.” She stumbled over the right thing to say. “I didn’t get a chance to tell Charlie good night.”

  “You have coddled him enough.” Brant struck a match and lit a lantern. “I’ll not have a son raised as weak as a woman with her emotions.”

  “Emotions don’t make a person weak, the lack of them does,” she said, angered by Brant’s coldness. “My father was a harsh man and I’ve worked hard to make sure Charlie is kind and thoughtful. If I had better sense, I would have stayed in Boston with him.”

  “Why did you not?”

  “Someone sent a telegram telling me of my father’s death. I thought I should return and get what I left at the ranch.” She moved back to the bedding of furs.

  “You were happy in that place you lived?”

  The question surprised her. Brant hadn’t expressed much curiosity in how she felt about anything since he came to claim his son. She would have liked to say, no, how could I be happy so far from the only man I’ve ever loved?

  “I like to think so,” she replied. “Charlie did well in school. We both had friends.”

  “The boy is intelligent?” He leaned forward slightly and the glow from the lantern lit his eyes.

  “Yes.” She saw him glance at the bedding.

  “Yet, with all he knows of the city, his love is with Indians.” She looked where Brant had and saw her under pants.

  “Things he has learned from you?”

  “From books. I rarely told him about my past.” She snatched up the garment and wadded it in her hands.

  Brant stiffened and she was sorry she hurt him by making him think she never told Charlie about him.

  Eden tucked the under pants beneath the corner of the fur blanket. She crawled to the door flap again and looked outside to see the rain had let up. “I can’t sleep. I’m going for a walk.”

  She got to her feet as she stepped outside.

  Brant followed her. “I will go with you.” He took hold of her elbow.

  “I want to go by myself.”

  His grip tightened.

  “You’ve no reason to fear I’ll escape.” She jerked her arm, trying to free it. “Not as long as you keep my son captive.”

  “He is not a prisoner.”

  “He’s not allowed to leave.” She flashed a look at his fingers still wrapped around her forearm.

  Brant released her and she walked away. Making her way through the village, she headed in the direction she knew the river flowed.

  Along the bank, she found a grassy patch of ground. She sat in the wet grass, not caring that it soaked her clothing. She pondered her future in comparison to a past that haunted her. Aching inside, she hugged her body and thought of the one occasion she and Brant made love before she had gone to Boston.

  “I will always take care of you,” his words whispered in her head. “You mean everything to me, Eden.”

  Every minute with him was meaningful. His care with her feelings had touched her in ways she’d not known before or since.

  “Tell me if I hurt you in any way. I want to know.”

  She couldn’t begin to count the number of times he asked if she was all right.

  “Never hold back your feelings, my sweet Eden.”

  Overly considerate, he exasperated her with his tenderness. Squeezing her eyes shut as tight as possible, she brought back the memory of that day and his voiced expressions of love.

  “You are so pretty.” His wide smile displayed excitement and his hands were eager extensions of his happiness.

  As his touch glided over her body, removing her clothes, he rubbed sensitive areas with his calloused fingers—ticklish spots that made her laugh.

  “You talk too much.” She twirled her fingers in his long hair. “Show me how you feel.”

  She squirmed against the length of him as he shifted to remove more of her clothing. The contours of his lean frame mated to the softness of hers. His warm lips pressed kisses to her cheeks and nose before they met with her expelling breath. Kissing her as he had a million times, the nakedness of their bodies became the catalyst to something much deeper.

  “Remember, I want you to tell me…”

  “Shush, now.” She rubbed his wet mouth. “Love me, Brant, and you’ll know how very much I want this between us.”

  “I love you more than all the stars in sky or grains of sand on the ground. It will always be so, my Eden.”

  The far-off sound of a coyote’s howl broke in on Eden’s reflection on her past.

  She glanced at the once dark sky brightening as the dense clouds drifted apart, leaving wispy strands over the full moon. She sat for a long time, letting the sound of moving water carry away her troubles.

  Lying back on the cold, damp ground, she searched the heavens for salvation. When greeted with a splash of shimmering stars peeking between the clouds, her whole body calmed and the peaceful night led her back to the moments in her past she held dear. She drifted off to sleep, remembering Brant’s promise. “It will always be so, my Eden.”

  When Eden opened her eyes again, she sat up, disorientated and panicked.

  “You are safe.” A hand clamped over her arm and she glanced at Brant sitting next to her.

  What felt like a natural impulse to throw herself into his arms vanished when his expression remained stern. She stared across the river at the magnificent sunrise on the horizon. She loved it when she used to spend the morning with him. It made her day at home better, if only in her mind. No matter how many times her father whipped her with a willow branch when he discovered she had gone off with Brant, she felt at peace with her decision.

  She adjusted the leather shirt Brant had laid over her by throwing it around her shoulders. He’d not accept it back if she offered and she was chilly. “I’ve missed the way the sky can appear so big. In Boston, tall buildings block a clear view until I walk to the harbor.”

  “The harbor?”

  “It’s where ships sail in from other parts of the world. You must remember from the school books.” She shivered as her body responded to the cool morning.

  “I know what ships are.”

  “The harbor is what they call the area where the ships anchor or dock. You’d find it fascinating, I’m sure.”

  Brant sat with his legs crossed and his hands resting on them. His bronze skin glistened in the morning light. His muscles rolled beneath the taut flesh whenever he made the slightest movement. She studied the contours of his upper body, noting the addition of scars.

  “You slept well out here?” he asked, taking her mind away from questioning him about the old wounds.

  “Yes.”

  “It was not too cold for you?” He continued staring straight ahead. “If I had known that you would stay all night I would have brought a blanket.”

  “I wasn’t cold.” She pulled his shirt from where
she draped it on her shoulders and held it out to him. “My dress is made of wool and quite warm.”

  He grunted as a form of answering her and took the shirt. “To sleep in the open too soundly is an invitation for the wild animals to attack.” He sat the shirt on the ground and picked a blade of grass to put in his mouth.

  “Then that would have been my misfortune. You didn’t need to guard me.” She regretted the words immediately.

  She didn’t know the first thing about seducing a man. He had surprised and frightened her with his aggressive lust in the tent. But his withdrawal and the remorse in his eyes had smoothed over her apprehensions. Yet, his anger after she had given in to her own desires had confused her.

  She didn’t know what she had done wrong, but she wanted to make it right.

  Leaning toward him, she nudged his arm and made the first attempt at recapturing his love. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  Not wanting to bring up whatever it was that happened in the lodge after they had made love, she answered, “For coming out here and making you watch over me all night.”

  His accepting nod wasn’t enough of a response.

  She pushed herself up slightly and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Don’t be angry with me.”

  His jaw clenched.

  She took it as a sign that she was weakening his resolve to keep mentally distanced from her.

  “I’ll try not to worry you again.” Sweeping her lips to his cheek, she positioned in front of him and nuzzled her nose alongside his.

  “I was not worried.”

  She placed her hands on his legs for support and elevated high enough to kiss his brow, thankful he hadn’t pushed her away. “You wouldn’t have said anything about the wild animals if you weren’t concerned.”

  Lowering to sit on her heels, she rubbed her palms back and forth over the smooth leather of his leggings.

  He grasped her hands and pulled them away. “I did not want to explain to my son how stupid his mother was.”

  Eden’s eyes widened. She didn’t understand his determined indifference to her. The drastic change in his mood from one moment to the next baffled her.

  Then, when she thought she might as well give up, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.

  When his roaming caresses took hold of her chemise, she knew she had to stop him from ruining the rest of her clothing.

  “Let me,” she said, slipping off her blouse and untying the laces on her chemise.

  She got to her feet and unfastened her skirt.

  He rose too. His intense gaze traveled over her. She shivered as the cool air wafted over her heated skin. Nearly naked, the partly open chemise was her only form of concealment. She waited for Brant to do or say something.

  He removed his moccasins, un-strapped the knife from his leg and dropped his pants. She looked at him in all his glory striding toward her.

  He didn’t waste time with talk or patience. Although, a little of both would have eased her mind.

  With the flick of his hand, he swept the chemise from one shoulder and then the other. The white cotton fluttered down her arms and dropped to the ground.

  Brant circled her.

  Once.

  Twice.

  And the third time he stopped behind her.

  He rested his hands on her hips, and then his fingers slid around to crisscross her belly. As his hands moved up, cupping and squeezing her breasts, she leaned her head back against his firm chest.

  Tingling sensations zipped through her limbs and landed hotly in her loins at the same time he pushed his hand between her legs. He kissed her shoulder and neck and rubbed her sex. The brisk passes pressed deeper. One of his fingers hit a sensitive button of nerves and the prickling sensation lifted her on her toes. The repetitive strokes threw her senses in a tizzy and she thrashed against him. Her raging orgasm sucked the energy from her limbs and her trembling legs weakened her stance.

  Brant lowered her to her knees. He came down behind her. With a hand to her back, he coaxed her to lean over, propped on her hands.

  In the throes of her own rapture, she didn’t question the position.

  Brant let out a relieved grunt as he pushed into her sex. He gripped her at the hip joints and pounded deep into her soaked center. Sore from earlier, she tried not to make a sound that would stop him, but as he rasped in and out, quicker, harder and longer than when he took her in the lodge, a whimper escaped her.

  He seemed not to notice.

  The thick grass tickled her nipples as Brant rocked her back and forth with the bump of his groin against her buttocks. She followed the rhythm, pushing back when he drove forward. Her insides twitched fiercely. She panted hard and clawed at the grass as the intense sensations escalated.

  When she lost her balance and her elbows buckled, she fell to the ground. Brant followed and continued rocking back and forth. Then Brant jolted several times and let out a long, strangled groan. The liquid warmth of his semen filled her, soothing her burning center.

  Without allowing her a second to catch her breath, he rose, scooped his arm under her and pulled her up. He grasped her face, turned it to the side against his chest and kissed her with ferocious vigor. Out of breath and out of strength, she leaned submissively with her back against his chest.

  His ardent kissing of her face eventually ended. “You will go back to the lodge now and rest.”

  His tone just begged her to breathlessly ask, “Why?”

  “I will have you many times today.”

  Eden mustered up strength and pushed his arm away. She crawled out of his reach. “Just like that, you think you will bed me on a whim?” She grabbed her blouse and shoved her arms in the sleeves.

  Brant bolted to his feet.

  She stiffened her backbone, determined not to flinch. He might let his anger flare in his tone, but he’d not hit her, she assured herself.

  His brisk strides brought him to her quickly. She struggled to remain tense to keep the trembling inside to a minimum. When she thought she was losing ground with her show of bravery, she found a reprieve from Brant’s penetrating stare.

  He bent down and snatched the chemise from the ground near her.

  She watched him go down the bank to the river. He rubbed his hands in the water and then threw water against himself, rubbing it over his body. When he splashed it between his legs, he noticeably shivered.

  A laugh escaped her as she remembered the story about him catching the fish.

  Brant shot her an angry look, showing he wasn’t amused.

  As she scrambled to her feet, she tried to figure out a way to fasten her blouse. Not seeing a way, she knew she needed the chemise back and looked to Brant. He marched toward her. The white chemise hung soaking wet from his hand.

  “I needed to wear that.”

  He knelt before her and slapped the wet cloth between her legs.

  “Brant!” she squealed as the icy coldness hit her hot sex and chafed thighs.

  He held her by the ankle and wiped the cloth up and down her legs and sex, washing her of his semen. Then he rose up before her.

  He retrieved his leather shirt and her skirt and handed them to her. As she put them on, she watched him slide his legs into his britches and his feet into his footwear.

  “I have things to take care of.” He looked up from tying his moccasins. “You will go to the lodge now and remember our arrangement.”

  “What arrangement?” she asked, fastening her skirt.

  “The one in which you agreed to do as I say if I let you come with the boy.”

  Although Brant’s commands prompted defiance from her, she looked forward to him coming to her. She had no fear of his empty threat now that she had experienced his passion again.

  “I’ve traveled many days on a train and a stagecoach, then in a wagon to my house and on horse to your village. I’d like to bathe.”

  “Come with me.” He grabbed her hand.

  When she didn’t move
to go with him, he glanced back.

  “What is wrong?” He rubbed circles with his thumb gently over her knuckles.

  “Nothing.” She smiled, happiness swelling inside.

  “Then come.” He led her through the pasture of tall grass and wildflowers. “Do you remember the pond where we used to go swimming?”

  “It’s unlikely I’d forget where I met you.”

  She thought of that first kiss between them. They had been friends for four years. Going to the swimming hole on her father’s ranch by the apple grove was nothing new. Then one day he held her face in the palms of hands and asked if he could kiss her. Already in love with him, she didn’t hesitate to give permission.

  “There is a place similar not too far from here. We will go get you something more suitable to wear and I will take you and Charlie there.”

  “Can I go alone?”

  “No.” He jerked her toward him. “I will never give you an opportunity to run away with my son.”

  She cringed at his angry tone.

  Give him sympathy and comfort. If their roles were reversed and she had been robbed of knowing her child, she’d be just as insane from grief as well as fear the worst.

  “I didn’t mean with Charlie. I meant by myself. I told you I won’t leave, Brant.”

  He looked away as if the decision to trust her was a hard one. Yet he still rubbed her arm as a form of apology.

  Eden opened his hand and rubbed her finger over the spot he cut for her. She held her palm up, kissed the place she had once cut her skin for him and pressed her hand in his. They had made many promises and pledges sealed by their blood. She hoped he’d understand the symbolism now.

  “I will take Charlie out in the canoe.” He twisted his hand and folded his fingers between hers without commenting on the silent oath she made.

  “I worry about him falling in the water.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Please watch him carefully.”

  “We will come to the pond in two hours.” His eyes danced with a delight that she felt down to her toes. “You will find a dress for you in the box in my lodge.”

 

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