Chapter Ten
Elizabeth cast a harried glance at the sun streaming through the window. If she didn’t hurry, she was never going to get Asa’s lunch to him. He wouldn’t wait before heading into town either, because he wasn’t expecting her. He’d grabbed some cheese and biscuits and told her not to worry, but, well, darn it! She hadn’t cooked herself into the ground the last two weeks, filling out his lean frame, just to see the man drop back to scrawny from eating hard tack and cheese.
She put the last of the fried chicken in the basket. She wrapped two fresh loaves of potato bread in a towel, packed four ears of corn over it and carefully balanced an apple pie on top. She was halfway to the door before she remembered silverware. Muttering under her breath, she tucked some in the side. At the door, she grabbed her shawl. It would heat up as the day wore on, but right now there was a nip in the air. Before she fastened it, she took a moment to finger the pin. A feather could have knocked her over when Asa had brought it home from town the other day. It was a simple rendering of a bunch of wildflowers tied with a bow. It was silly and impractical, and she couldn’t stop touching it. He hadn’t said anything beyond it had made him think of her.
She’d spent hours pondering about that, but she hadn’t asked. No doubt to him, it had been an impulse. The thought forgotten as soon as he’d made the purchase, but to her, it was the first present anyone had gotten her since she was eight, and it had meaning. She just couldn’t figure out what.
As soon as she stepped onto the porch, the breeze tugged at her shawl. She tucked the loose ends under her arms, held the basket tightly, and dashed to the barn. It was warm in there, humid and thick with the lingering odor of the animals that’d spent the night here. As she passed Shameless’ stall, she blushed as she had every day for the last week. She couldn’t think of the horse without remembering her husband and the license he’d taken.
Or her response whenever he was near.
She’d been worried that he’d think less of her, but it didn’t seem to matter to him that she’d enjoyed his touch. Fortunately or unfortunately. She sighed. That was another thing she hadn’t decided upon since he hadn’t touched her like that again.
She shook her head at her silliness. She should be grateful she had a husband who was capable and respectful, who didn’t make demands and gave her little presents. Even though she didn’t understand the man, these last weeks had been the most peaceful she’d had in her entire life. She tied the basket to the saddle horn. Part of her didn’t want it to change. Another part of her wanted her husband to do something besides kiss her gently on her forehead and fall asleep on his side of the bed.
If she were brutally honest, she wanted more. Of it and him. She wanted to be the wild woman again who’d taken his hard cock in her mouth and sucked him to mindlessness. Only this time, she didn’t want him to pull out at the last moment. She wanted to taste him, to feel him come over her tongue. To swallow his seed. To own him in that intensely intimate manner. She just wasn’t sure about how to get back to that moment. Then she’d been out of her head with need, her body on fire from repeated orgasms. It had seemed right and natural at the time to beg him to fuck her face. However, she couldn’t imagine just sidling up to him and asking for a repeat performance out of the blue.
The way he cuddled her was nice, though. She bit her lip as she untied Willoughby’s reins. She flat out didn’t understand the man. Asa had been eager enough before. Maybe his needs weren’t that frequent. Willoughby shifted to the right as she slid under his neck, knocking her bonnet to the barn floor.
“Darn it.”
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
She looked up to find a brown-haired, brown-eyed ranch hand standing respectfully with his hat in his hand. She scooped up the bonnet, self-conscious that he’d know from her ease of movement that she wasn’t wearing a corset. “I’m fine.”
His hat lazily spun in his hand. Without missing a beat, he tossed it in the direction of the horse. “Going somewhere?”
She expected to see the hat hit the floor. At the last possible second, he caught it in his hand. There wasn’t even a break in rhythm. While his expression didn’t change, she swore she saw a smile in his eyes. “I was just riding out to bring Asa his lunch.”
“I’ll keep you company.”
Her stomach dropped in dismay. Which was really silly as she was only bringing her husband lunch. Not plotting a way to get him naked and hard and in her mouth. “That’s not necessary.”
“He’s out a piece. Pretty little thing like you might get lost.”
She gritted her teeth. Pretty little thing, indeed. “I assure you Mr…?”
“Clint, ma’am.”
“Surely you have a last name?”
“Just Clint will do.”
“I assure you, Mr. Clint, that I know every inch of this ranch.”
Had she hired him? She looked at him closer. A lot of men came west to forget things. Going by a first name wasn’t uncommon, but still, she had to ask. “Are you running from the law, Mr. Clint?”
He spun his hat in the air. It seemed to take on a life of its own and flipped onto his head. While she stared in amazement, he said, “No, ma’am. Just don’t hold much with formality.”
Where had she heard that before? “Well, Mr. Clint, I really want to catch my husband before he heads for town. While I appreciate the offer of an escort, I don’t have time to wait for you to secure a mount.”
He emitted a short whistle between his teeth. Before her ears could recover from the blast, he was swinging lazily into the saddle of a beautifully proportioned palomino that appeared from one of the stalls. “No problem.”
She swung up onto her own mount, adjusting her skirts so they covered as much as possible. She eyed him as she adjusted the reins. “A true gentleman would have helped a lady onto her mount.”
He flashed her a slow, easy grin. “A true gentleman would have been eating your dust.”
Gads! Was she really so transparent that every man around could read her like a book? She touched her heels to Willoughby’s flank. As she passed the cowboy, he inclined his head respectfully.
“I gather you’ve been assigned to keep an eye on me?” she asked.
He didn’t bother to deny it. “Asa was worried you might need help around the place.”
How dumb did he think she was? “Seems to me Old Sam would be a better choice to help close to home rather than a capable man in his prime.”
His sleepy-eyed palomino pulled up along Willoughby. The horse, she decided, was a lot like his owner. While he seemed to be as lazy as all get out, he seemed to have no trouble keeping up.
“Asa sets a store by you, ma’am. He’s not one for taking chances.”
“So he’s assigned me a guard?” Willoughby’s snort was an eloquent summation of her disgust.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“How was it?”
“This might be something you’d be better off asking your husband.”
“It’s a long trip to the back range. I might as well spend it productively.”
“Somehow, I knew you were going to say that,” he answered as forlornly as if she’d assigned him a week of well digging.
He stared straight ahead, but while his lips didn’t move, his eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. Elizabeth realized for the first time he was an attractive man. “So, how exactly was it?”
“It came to Asa’s attention that you’re not much of a homebody.”
“Excuse me?”
“Seems like you like to spend the afternoons gadding about.”
“I do not gad.”
“Well, Monday, you went up the mountain.”
“Asa wanted blackberry pie.”
“And I’d like to be the one to speak for the rest of the hands, ma’am, and thank you for the pie you sent down to the bunkhouse. It was a welcome addition to Old Sam’s idea of cooking.”
“You’re welcome.” That was the longest speech she’d heard the man make. She suspected it was along the lines of a distraction. “So how does my picking blackberries on the mountain constitute gadding about?”
It really was the most irritating term.
The way the crinkles left the corner of his eyes told her he’d caught onto her annoyance. “It just made the boss nervous, ma’am.”
Her gaze dropped to the rifle in its scabbard and the revolver riding on his hip. “So nervous he insists on an armed escort?”
He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. “You really might be more comfortable discussing this with your husband, ma’am.”
“I’m perfectly comfortable discussing it with you.”
“Tuesday, you went up to the Hennessy spread.”
“The Hennessy’s are people of modest means. Calling it a spread is a bit of a stretch.”
“I didn’t want to be impolite enough to call it a shack.”
“Why? I do.”
He shot her a glance. “I can see that.”
“If Jack Hennessy would lay off the bottle and attend to his family, his wife might just have a decent place to winter in.”
“You seem a bit emotional on the subject.”
“I dislike Mr. Hennessy intensely.”
“But you like Mrs. Hennessy?”
“Jenna Hennessy is a sweet woman. She deserves better than a honeymoon freezing to death in the mountains.” And she deserved better than to be knocked around daily by her husband.
“I think I saw her in town. She’s blonde, very young and pretty?”
A horrible combination for a woman. Elizabeth struggled to keep the disgust out of her voice. “She is.”
“Word is Hennessy’s a mean son of a gun.”
“He is.”
Clint tipped his hat back on his head. “Might have to take me a wander up the mountain one of these days.”
Elizabeth glared at him. Typical man. One whisper that a young, unhappy woman might be ripe for the plucking, and they couldn’t wait to go check it out. “You leave Jenna Hennessy alone or you’ll be looking for another job!”
His gaze, when it met hers, was cold, sending a chill down her spine. For all his lazy nonchalance, Elizabeth realized that Mr. Just-Clint was a very dangerous man. “Pardon me, ma’am, but what I do with my free time is my business.”
She bit her lip on the argument that leapt to her tongue. Jenna’s face came to her mind. Too thin, full of pride, struggling to cover the misery of her circumstances with flashing smiles and a belief that all would be well. “Please, Mr. Clint. Leave her alone. She doesn’t need any more trouble.”
“As I said, ma’am, what I do with my free time is my business.”
He was right. She made a mental note to warn Jenna. “We’ve lost the topic of our conversation.”
“Gotta admit, I was kind of hoping it would stay lost.”
“No doubt as you’ve been assigned the role of spy.”
“I’ll allow it might seem that way to you.”
“There’s no other way to see it.”
“I’ll be letting you take that up with your husband, ma’am. If I’m not mistaken, that’s him heading our way.”
She looked where he pointed and, sure enough, Shameless crested the hill at a canter, Asa on his back, in a seamless silhouette of grace and power. He looked like a man capable of ruling the world. And he was her husband. A little trill of what could only be pride went through her.
Clint dropped back as Asa pulled up beside her. “Anything wrong?” Asa asked.
She shook her head, another thrill chased through her at the concern in his voice. It was unusual having someone care about her. “I brought you lunch.”
His face creased into a smile. “That’s a nice surprise.” He turned toward Clint. “Thanks for escorting her up here.”
“No problem.”
“Did you have any trouble?”
“None. You want me to head over and see how the boys are coming with rounding the strays out of the back canyon?”
Shameless sidled alongside Willoughby as Asa answered, “No doubt they’d appreciate the help.”
“Then I’ll be getting over there.” Clint tipped his hat to Elizabeth. “Ma’am.”
She nodded back. “Mr. Clint.”
She felt a disturbance at her side. She looked down. Asa was rummaging through the food basket. She smiled. “If you don’t get your hand out of there, you’re going to mess up lunch.”
“Just thought I’d see what you brought.”
“You weren’t looking forward to hard tack and cheese?”
“I’d get by on it, but it can’t hold a candle to…” He sniffed. “Apple pie?”
“You can smell that over horse and leather?”
His hand settled on her thigh. It was warm and heavy through her skirt. Comforting. His smile was lazy. She couldn’t see his eyes as they were shadowed by the brim of his hat.
He shrugged. “Would I go down in your estimation if I also confess to smelling bread and fried chicken?” She laughed and his hand squeezed her thigh. “Were you planning on keeping me company?”
She couldn’t tell from the tone of his voice whether the question was resentful or hopeful. “I could head back if you’d rather be alone.”
“What man in his right mind would pass up the opportunity to dine with a beautiful woman?”
She felt the blush rise to her cheeks. Sometimes, she actually felt like he thought her beautiful and wasn’t just playing with words.
“I passed a little meadow on the way here,” he continued, obviously taking her blush for acceptance. “It sits down a bit, so we’d be protected from the wind.”
He removed his hand from her thigh. She missed the contact immediately. Lord! The man was the most touching person she’d ever met and, what was worse, she was getting used to it.
She motioned with her hand. “Lead on.”
He caught her hand midway. Shameless hugged Willoughby’s side tightly as they rode, Asa’s leg continually brushed hers. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, bringing to mind the previous time they’d fluttered. In the barn. She needed to break the tension before she did something embarrassing.
“Why do you have Clint spying on me?”
If she wasn’t mistaken, the hand on hers tightened briefly before he answered. “He’s not spying on you. He’s taking care of you.”
“I’ve been taking care of myself for many years now.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss across the back. The butterflies in her stomach took flight. She couldn’t suppress a gasp. She dared a look at him. He pushed his hat back. The smile on his lips left her in no doubt that he’d heard. “I take care of my own, Elizabeth.”
“I’m not a child who needs to be watched.”
“You’re my wife and I have a duty to protect you.”
“From what?”
“Outlaws. Indians. Wild animals. Jack Hennessy.”
She had no trouble meeting his gaze now. He was obviously serious.
“There haven’t been any outlaws around here in ages. The Indians have all been driven away, and I have yet to run afoul of a wild animal.”
“Elizabeth, you’re acting like I’ve been unreasonable.”
“I don’t like being watched.”
“That’s too damned bad. Either you stick by your escort or you don’t go out.”
“You can’t tell me what to do!” She bit her lip. He could and they both knew it. All he had to do was order her to stay home, and her world would dwindle to the walls of the ranch house. No more riding. “I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I, but with the railroad coming, there’s a rough crowd passing through Cheyenne. There’re also those rustlers you had trouble with. With one source of money cut off, they could turn to others.”
“Are you trying to scare me?”
“If I thought you’d have the good sense to scare, I sure enough would be.”
“There is nothing wrong with my sense.”
“Sure enough, darlin’, you’re a poor judge of people.”
“I chose you, didn’t I?”
“Nope.”
The smug smile on his lips clued her in. “Darn it! Old Sam told you, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“That rotten skunk. He promised he’d keep the fact I’d asked between us.”
“How do you know he didn’t?”
“The way you’re smiling at me, as if you’re the only cat in the barn that’s got cream.”
He chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to work on my poker face.”
If he did, she was down and out for sure. Willoughby slipped on the way down the slope. She shifted back to accommodate his descent. Shameless stepped aside to avoid a tree. Asa didn’t let go of her hand until the last moment. Just when she was sure they were going to end up hugging the big spruce, he let go.
She knew he’d be smiling when she caught up to him. Nothing seemed to panic him while he took endless delight in tormenting her. He was like the wind, blowing hard or whispering in soft teases. Never from one moment to the next could she say what he’d do. He kept her guessing. He kept her…smiling.
She watched the smooth way he dismounted. The muscles in his back stretched his shirt tightly across his shoulders. He was all man. Well-muscled, honorable, with enough punch to his name to make men clear out of his path, and yet, he seemed to look for laughter the way her father had searched for flaws. She shook her head. She didn’t know which she preferred. One was familiar. The other intriguingly different.
She hadn’t admired much in her father with the exception of his devotion to purpose. She admired a lot in Asa. Mostly his ease with everything he faced. Like now. She’d been staring at him unknowingly for the last three minutes. No doubt he felt uncomfortable, but rather than squirm, he simply stood there and waited her out. No censure. No impatient “let’s get going”. Just acceptance that she needed a minute.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”
He held up his arms to help her down. “No harm done.”
“It was rude.”
“Not as long as you didn’t uncover any warts.”
“What?”
“I said I didn’t mind as long as you didn’t find anything you want removed.”
“You have to know you’re a very attractive man.”
“I haven’t had many kids run screaming,” he admitted as he swung her down. “But this face has seen better days.”
Could he be uncertain about his appearance? There was a bump on his nose that said maybe it had been broken. A small scar bisected his right cheekbone.
“You’re staring again.” He caught Willoughby’s reins in his hand. “Picking out the flaws?”
He said that as if he’d been through this before. She wondered if he’d been rejected. “I like your face.” It came out fiercer than she’d expected.
He turned and smiled at her from where he was tying Willoughby beside Shameless to a fallen log. “I like yours, too.”
“You’re very handsome.”
She said that as if it mattered. Asa wondered if she thought he was worried about his looks. He patted Willoughby on the neck, gave Shameless an affectionate pat, and headed back to his wife. There she stood, her fists balled at her sides. He realized she thought his feelings were hurt and she was ready to defend him. He stopped when he was two feet away from her. “I’m glad you like my face.”
“I don’t want you to think I’d rather have a smooth-faced boy for a husband. Someone who didn’t know how to handle himself in a fight. Someone who didn’t have a broken nose and a scarred cheek.”
He caught her hands in one of his. “I don’t think my pride can take any more of my flaws trotted out.”
“Dear God!” Her eyes widened with dismay. “I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious.”
“Relax.” He kissed the tip of her nose, laughing when her eyes crossed. “Do you like the way I look?”
“I just said so.”
“Then that’s all I need to know.”
She stepped back, freeing her hands. She took the food basket from him. “I really made a mess of that.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, ambling along beside her. “Depends on what side of the glass you’re looking from.”
“Why?”
“A man likes to know his woman isn’t battling an urge to run screaming when he steps into the light.”
His reward was a shy chuckle. He pulled her up short when she showed every intention of crossing the glade and heading into the woods beyond. “I thought here would be a good place.”
“Oh?” She stopped, blushed a bit, and nodded her head. “Yes, it would.”
She was clearly flustered.
Asa took it as a good sign. Maybe all the restraint he’d been practicing for the last week was coming ‘round to reward him. She was beginning to trust him. He’d been heading home today at lunch. Wanting to see her too much to stay away like he’d planned, then he’d seen her riding toward him with Clint. About made his day. She’d actually sought his company. And managed a compliment in the bargain. Yup. Things were definitely looking up.
She spread the blanket on the mossy ground. Overhead, spruce boughs gave a fragrant canopy. If it weren’t this cool, it’d be a darn sticky place to eat lunch, but this time of year, it provided an intimate haven from the wind and prying eyes. A haven he was intent on using to his advantage. Truth was, he was about starved for a kiss. Not one of those uptight come-around-to-my-way-of-thinking attempts he’d utilized before, but an actual kiss with interest on both sides. That was something he was looking forward to all right.
Before he sat beside her on the blanket, he twitched a stick from beneath it. If dessert went the way he planned, he didn’t want any rude intrusions. “Looks like quite a spread.”
“A man your size needs to eat.”
She looked him up and down and added another piece of golden fried chicken to his plate before passing it over. He placed it on the ground beside him. “Trying to fatten me up?”
“You could use a little weight.”
“You’re welcome to try, but I gotta warn you, I’ve always been lean.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“It is?”
She smiled and daintily made a plate for herself. “That means I won’t have to spend time this winter letting out your pants.”
He laughed, eyed the ladylike amount of food on the plate she put beside her, and shook his head. Couldn’t keep a bird alive with that piddlin’ amount. “Lord, darlin’, there’s hope for you yet.”
“There is?”
“Yup.” He snagged another piece of chicken and added it to her plate. “You made a joke.”
“I wasn’t aware you felt I lacked a sense of humor.” She placed the added chicken back in the basket.
“Oh, I had my suspicions.” He took a leg off his plate and added it to hers. “I was just beginning to doubt you’d loosen up enough around me to let it shine.”
“What a colorful way to put it.” She reached for the piece of chicken.
“That’s me. All color. No refinement.” He let her get the piece halfway back to his plate before he shook his head.
“No?” Her tone went all prissy.
He edged her hand back until it hovered over her plate. “There isn’t enough food on that plate to keep a gnat alive.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Yeah.” If, by fine, she meant ready to drop at the first sign of exertion.
“Mr. MacIntyre, a lady does not bring an appetite to the table.”
He closed his eyes and counted to ten. “What does she bring?”
“Refined conversation, companionship and manners.”
“How about you drop the first and last and bring a healthy appetite instead?”
“That wouldn’t be proper.”
He closed his eyes and counted to ten. Again. He’d never heard such horse hockey in his life as Elizabeth spouted as gospel. “Well, I guess that explains it then.”
Her eyebrows arched quizzically. She took a nibble of her chicken. “Explains what?”
“Why you don’t see too many ladies hereabouts.” He waited until her mouth was full of drink before he continued. “No doubt, they all passed out mid-lecture on a ridiculous rule some poor girl was expected to follow next.”
Lemonade spewed all over the blanket as she laughed and choked at the same time. Only quick reflexes kept him free of the spray. Equally quick reflexes scooped her into his arms and pounded her on the back. The first slap might have been a bit hefty as she flipped half over his arm. Darn. He kept forgetting how slight she was. As soon as she caught her breath, she was back to lecturing him.
“You, Mr. MacIntyre, are a miscreant of the first water.”
He tipped up her chin so he could see her red-cheeked face. “You insulting me or complimenting me?”
“All books on proper behavior insist that I should be insulting you. At the very least, taking you to task for your disrespect.”
“But you’re not?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Any particular reason?”
Her smile was bright and cheery, startling him with its openness. “No, because I’ve often had the same thought myself.”
He pondered that and all its ramifications. “That mean you might be open to some negotiations as to what ladies can and cannot do?”
“I cannot speak for all women, sir.”
“I’ll settle for you speaking for yourself.”
“Very well.”
“You think you can bring yourself to call me by my first name? Sure ’nough, darlin’, every time you call me Mister, I’m checking over my shoulder to see who you’re talking to.”
“I thought you’d gotten used to it.”
“I confess to the fact I’ve been waiting you out.”
“And now you’re not content to…” Her eyebrows rose again. “Wait me out?”
“A smart man keeps an eye for negotiating opportunities.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “And you’re a very smart man.”
“Whoa, darlin! Two compliments in one hour. Better ease up or I’ll start thinking you’re buttering me up.”
Her body grew tense in his arms. He leaned his cheek against the top of her hat. Something poked him in the ear. “Ouch!” He rubbed his ear. “Any chance you could see your way to disarming that hat?”
She smiled. A soft smile that set his neck hairs on end in warning. She lifted the hat off her head. She held it above her head as she shook the ties free of her chin. Seated as she was in his lap, he had a bird’s eye view of her breasts. And it was a mighty nice view.
He must have stared too long, because she dropped her hands suddenly. The little hat landed with a plop on her folded legs. “I’m sorry.”
Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrows. “For what?”
“I didn’t mean to shock you.”
“Shock me?”
“You said it was all right.”
“I did?”
“I won’t do it again.”
She wouldn’t? “Whoa, darlin’, do what?”
“I said I was sorry.”
“I heard that, darlin’. Problem is, I was still eating dust on the first sorry.” He tipped up her chin. “What are you apologizing for?”
She told him, but he had to ask her to repeat it, her voice was so faint. “I’m not wearing my corset.”
“And you think that’s worth losing a smile over?”
“It appears I misunderstood your dismay.”
He had to turn the words over in his mind two or three times before things made sense. “You mean my staring?”
Her hands clenched in on one another. “Yes.”
“Darlin’, we’re going to have to work on your education some. That wasn’t dismay. That was plain old admiration.” He met her shocked gaze. “You have the prettiest breasts I’ve ever seen.”
He had to give her points for pluck. While her cheeks turned cherry red, she kept her eyes open. “If you think that, why haven’t you touched them?”
Whatever response he’d been expecting, that wasn’t it. The one she gave him left him so weak-kneed, she could have knocked him over with a feather. For the third time in his life and the second time this month, he felt heat scorch up his neck. Along with it came laughter. “Dammit, woman! How am I supposed to come off as strong and capable when you’ve got me blushing like a school boy?”
“You look good in red.”
“You’d best hope no desperado comes upon us now, ‘cause armed or not, I wouldn’t be putting anything into the man but laughter.”
“I like you, Asa MacIntyre.”
Soft as a feather, that whispered confession put an end to his laughter. “I like you, too, Elizabeth.”
“So why haven’t you done anything about it?”
It was a good question. He just wasn’t sure how directly he wanted to answer.