Newlywed Christmas (Brides of Juniper Junction Book 4)
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NEWLYWED CHRISTMAS
Brides of Juniper Junction, Book Four
Celeste Jones
Copyright © 2020 Newlywed Christmas by Celeste Jones
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Published in the United States of America
Editing by Helen Shade
Cover by Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
About this book
Newlywed Christmas
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Home for Christmas
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Other books in the Brides of Juniper Junction series
About Celeste Jones
About this book
A Pair of Christmas Novellas Set in the Old West.
Juniper Junction's newest brides, Tassie, Posey and Lizzie are determined to make Christmas special for their sexy cowboy husbands. But, things don't always go as planned. It will be a Christmas to remember, that's for sure.
In Home for Christmas, Josie, the town's best seamstress, waits at home for her fiancé Clinton to return from a dangerous cattle drive. He's promised to be home for Christmas so they can get married on Josie's favorite holiday, but circumstances seem to conspire against them.
Newlywed Christmas
Chapter 1
Windy River Ranch
St. Patrick’s Day
TASSIE AND CAL
Sheriff Cal Watson gazed across the crowded dance floor and saw the beautiful smile of his wife, Tassie, as she chatted with some of the other ladies gathered around the punch bowl. As he watched her, his heart filled with gratitude for the wonderful woman who was his bride. She had made his life better in so many ways, almost too many for him to count. Or too many for him to count at the moment, because suddenly he felt the need to be near her, to feel her in his arms.
Never much of a dancer—the music, and possibly a bit of Irish Whiskey—had loosened his inhibitions just enough to make him eager to swirl his bride around the dance floor, showing her off, yet again, to the people of Juniper Junction. The pride of his heart. The joy of his life.
As he approached, he noticed the way the candlelight glistened against her hair and he envisioned how it looked spread out across her pillow in the mornings with the rising sun casting through the window to catch the golden light in her tresses.
Damn, she was something else. And she was all his.
He was one lucky man.
"Excuse me, ladies," he said, nodding to the women gathered near Tassie, "but I believe my wife owes me a dance."
The women giggled and waved them on their way as he put his arm possessively around his wife and drew her to him.
"Cal," she scolded, "I was in the middle of a conversation."
"I have a few things I'd like to say to you myself," he whispered in her ear as he took her in his arms. "Would you like to hear them?"
He gazed down into her blue eyes and saw the blush that never failed to make him get hard. That could make dancing a challenge.
"I've never been to a St. Patrick's Day party like this," Tassie said.
"Are you trying to change the subject?" he asked, narrowing his gaze on her.
"Well, do you think it's a good idea for an elected official to be going around the dance floor with a big bulge in his pants?" Tassie raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I know what's on your mind, Cal. You're not nearly as mysterious as you think you are."
He chuckled, his love for her growing even stronger. "You might be right about that, so yes, this is quite a party. Mr. Conners likes to remind us all of his Irish heritage at least once a year."
"I haven't noticed an accent," Tassie said as they moved around the dance floor.
"His parents came over from the old country so Mr. Conners’ accent isn’t as strong. Plus, when he was young, his parents encouraged him to speak without it. Irish immigrants weren't always welcome. Still aren't, in a lot of places, but out here in the west, we're a bit more accepting. We need everyone to work together to survive."
"Owning the largest ranch in the area probably doesn't hurt much either," Tassie said.
"Mr. Conners has paid his dues with sweat and toil. And he's a good citizen."
"And he throws a great party!" Tassie whirled in his arms. It pleased him so much to see her happy and carefree. He worked hard to provide for her, but she worked hard too, making a home for them and doing her part around town. When it came time for the election, she might be his biggest asset.
But the election was a long way off, so he focused on his dance partner and having a good time. After the long winter, everyone needed a night out to enjoy themselves and it seemed like people had come from all over the county to partake of Mr. Conners’ hospitality.
The song ended and he grasped hold of her hand and pulled her close. "I love you, Tassie girl. Have I told you that today?"
She paused and looked up at him, her gaze full of affection. "You have, but I have no complaints about hearing it again." She glanced down his body meaningfully. "I see you're still thinking naughty thoughts." Her gaze heated as it met his.
Warmth moved through his body and his cock continued to strain against his pants. It was a good thing everyone was involved in the party and not paying much attention to them.
Usually Cal came to the annual party but spent most of the time patrolling around outside and even made a few passes through town as well. With nearly all the citizens at Windy River Ranch enjoying themselves, it was a prime time for thieves to target the area.
But this year, Cal had a deputy. Roy Gantry. And Roy was on patrol while Cal enjoyed himself. He sort of liked it and wondered if he could convince the town council to hire another deputy. Since his marriage to Tassie, it seemed Cal's interest in law enforcement wasn't nearly so strong as his interest in being with his wife.
Not that he’d ever shirk his duty. Absolutely not. He took pride in his job and cared deeply about the people of Juniper Junction and their safety.
But...they didn’t hold the place in his heart that Tassie did.
"Let's go outside," Cal whispered, sending a shiver down her spine. "I want to show you something."
"Oh, I bet you do!" Tassie said with a giggle, following along eagerly as he guided her toward the door. A few folks were outside getting some fresh air. It was a beautiful clear evening and the stars shone br
ight against the velvet sky. Tassie loved looking at the night sky. It reminded her of the many nights when she'd seen the first evening star and made a wish. Her wishes back then had been so simple. Please, let us earn enough money for some food. Please don't let Mr. McPherson fire us.
Little did she imagine the wonderful life that awaited her in Juniper Junction and in the arms of Cal Watson.
Cal paused beneath a large oak tree and pulled her against him, the firm bulge of his manhood pressed against her insistently, as if she didn't know already that he was particularly eager for her.
She was eager for him as well. It had been a long, cold winter. Not that they had not found ways to keep warm, but Tassie had learned that being the wife of the sheriff often meant hours and even days when she wasn't sure where he was, what he was doing or when he'd be home. That was frightening enough, but combine that with heavy snow, high winds and occasional blizzards, and she was rather a frazzled wife by the time he came through the door.
She'd become somewhat accustomed to the not knowing and often even when he did return he could not, or would not, give her the details. Juniper Junction was not a high crime area, but still, it attracted its fair share of bad actors, people who thought that a town with only one sheriff and no help for miles would be a safe target.
In addition to the crime, Cal got called out whenever there was an emergency. People caught in a blizzard and stranded, women going into labor unexpectedly while their husbands were out trapping or hunting. And the trapping and hunting brought their own set of problems.
Yes, it had been a long, lonely winter. The addition of Roy as a deputy helped a great deal. Particularly tonight, since she and Cal were able to attend the party as guests.
Seeing her husband relaxed and enjoying himself filled her with love and happiness.
They were young and in love. Could life get any better?
When Cal pushed her up against the tree and covered her mouth with his, she realized that yes, life could get better. All of the above, plus her husband's hot hands stroking her body, his firm mouth capturing hers and his tongue delving deep.
After the kiss ended, she pressed her mouth to his throat and kissed the rugged skin there, reveling in the feel of his beard against her cheek.
Cal's hands roamed her body, caressing and squeezing until she was on fire. Her back pressed against the solid trunk of the tree and Cal leaned into her.
"God, Tassie, I've got to have you. You drive me mad." His voice was ragged and his hands pushed her skirts up until he was able to open the slit of her drawers and run his fingers through the sweet slickness gathered between her thighs. "Good lord, Tassie. You're killing me." He brought his fingers up to his face and inhaled deeply of her essence and then licked it from his fingers before plunging his hand into her pussy again.
She whimpered and pushed her core toward her husband and his pleasuring hand. Her breath came in fast pants and she managed to say, "Cal, wh-what if someone sees us?"
"I don't give a damn," he ground out, his other hand covering her breast over her dress and squeezing until she had to bite her lips to keep from moaning and drawing attention to them.
From the corner of her eye, she saw a few party-goers milling about and though she ought to have put a stop to their carnal activities, what kind of scandal would it cause for the sheriff and his wife to be caught engaging in public indecency of this nature? The idea of being caught only heightened her arousal. She clasped her hands around Cal's head and held his mouth to hers as they kissed until they were both breathless.
"Tassie," Cal said into her ear when the kiss ended. "I have to have you. Right here. Right now."
Again, she should have been the voice of reason, but instead she widened her stance and grabbed hold of her skirts, keeping them raised while Cal opened his pants. In the moonlight she saw the heated glint in his eye and then she gazed down at his cock, hard and ready. A drop of pre-cum dotted the top and she licked her lips, longing to taste it.
Instead, Cal slid his cock along the slit of her sex with a groan that he muffled against her shoulder. "Tassie girl, the things you do to me. You've turned me into a madman."
He moved his cock to the entrance of her sex and pushed it in to the hilt with one swift motion. She gasped, then silenced herself.
"Oh god, Tassie," Cal whispered in her ear. "You feel so good. I love you so much. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."
All Tassie could do was whimper in response. Her body quaked with her approaching climax and she clung to Cal as he shoved in and out of her fast and hard. She closed her eyes and stars danced behind her eyelids as she reached the apex, struggling not to scream out her pleasure.
Cal was equally challenged to keep his passion quiet. When she blinked her eyes open and gazed at him, his face strained with the effort and with one final thrust he exploded inside her, his hot seed filling her.
For a moment they simply clung to each other under the stars, their labored breathing moving in and out in unison.
“Happy St. Patrick’s Day,” Cal whispered.
POSEY AND JAKE
Jake Lincoln wiped the perspiration from his brow with a red bandanna and stuffed it back into his pocket. A man accustomed to hard work and sweat, he was always prepared. The crowded dance floor was a mass of bodies moving in time to the band playing Irish tunes as well as many favorites of the region. Jake, a large man without a great deal of refinement, still managed to swing his beloved Posey around the dance floor with a fair amount of grace and aplomb. But, after dancing nearly steadily since they arrived, they had parted briefly. He'd left Posey seated near the band while he went in search of cool refreshments for them. He glanced at mugs of beer spread across one table and felt a great temptation. He wondered if Posey had ever imbibed in alcohol. Then he fought against a smile at the notion.
His bride, Posey, was a handful on any day, stone cold sober. The idea of her intoxicated seemed impossible to consider. Jake could deal with an angry steer and the management of Windy River Ranch, since he was Mr. Conners' trusted foreman. But his Posey with a snootful was more than he thought he could handle and so he bypassed the alcohol and fetched them each a glass of lemonade. Tempted to get a beer for himself, he decided against it. Being out in a crowd with Posey—he hated to be reminded of her nickname around town, Nosey Posey—brought out her worst instincts and he didn't dare let his guard down. She'd been working at the post office and doing a fine job. He was proud of her. Many people had commented on the change in her and few used the hated nickname anymore. Still, he kept a close eye on her, not wishing for her to have a relapse.
As though he'd wished it to be so simply by thinking of how he didn't want it to happen, he saw Posey with her face pressed closed to several other ladies as she whispered some bit of news to them, no doubt.
He chastised himself for jumping to conclusions. They were near the band which made it difficult to hear. The close talking was simply a practical response to the situation and not necessarily an indication of secrets.
Nonetheless, he moved stealthily toward her. Winter had kept many folks from being able to get to town regularly or to the twice monthly hen party known as the Juniper Junction Quilting Society. Much as he hated to consider it, his Posey was likely bursting with news to share.
"Yes, that is exactly what she said. I couldn't believe it myself but then I heard Mrs. Quimby say to her, 'Well, if you want to know what I think—' " but her words stopped as soon as Jake's shadow fell over her. She flushed and pulled away from the ladies gathered around her, giving him a bright smile. "That was fast, Jake." She took the lemonade from him and sipped ravenously until it was nearly gone. "I was just sharing my recipe for marionberry cobbler with these ladies. The berries will be ripe before you know it, won't they?"
The other gossip mongers caught on quickly and nodded in agreement, then dispersed like a fluffle of rabbits who'd heard a gunshot.
"Marionberry cobbler, eh?" He raised an eyebrow at
her while he drank his lemonade. She flushed and looked away.
When he finished his drink, he set the glass aside and took hold of his wife's chin. "That didn't sound like any recipe I've ever heard."
She jerked her chin defiantly, though his grip held. "Well, maybe you ought to do more of the cooking then."
"I know something that I'm going to roast," he replied, taking her by the hand and raising her to standing. Wrapping his arm around her waist he guided her away from the party and into the main house at Windy River Ranch.
"J-Jake, wh-where are we going?" Posey's earlier defiance had vanished and now she spoke with trepidation. "I'm not ready to leave the party yet, are you?"
"We just need to take a little break," he replied. "Got some business to deal with in my office."
"Oh," she said, brightening, "well, I'll leave you to it. I'll go and see if Mrs. Summers needs any help with the refreshment table."
He paused in the hallway outside the door to the foreman's office. "I'm sure Mrs. Summers has everything under control." He lowered his head and gave her a stern look. "Which is more than I can say for you and your tongue."
The door to Jake's office closed with an ominous click and Posey's stomach flipped in response. Oh, she'd really messed up. And she had been doing so well, too. She hated that people called her Nosey Posey but she hated it even more when she gave them good reason to use that horrible nickname.