Chapter Six
A week had gone by from the day he first saw her.
On the trail, a week felt like a year. Long days of hard riding, babies and cattle crying, hoofbeats pounding, and dust flying. He’d grown weary of it.
Beans and bacon at every meal. Johnnycakes, biscuits, and mush did little to ease the monotony. Sometimes, if they were lucky, and the hunt had been successful, they roasted buffalo, antelope, or prairie hen on a spit over the fire.
When they got to California, he never wanted to see beans on his plate again.
If they ever made it there, that is.
The first of September was tomorrow. That gave them two months to cross the Rockies and the Sierras before the heavy snows began. And two months was being generous.
Walker said winter was coming early. He urged the travelers to make haste, sometimes pushing them twenty miles in a day over steep foothills. At such a grueling pace, most often they were forced to make camp after fifteen or ten.
And with every mile put behind them, Levi watched her.
He had yet to speak to her, though not for a lack of trying. Any time Levi came near, Lucy would scurry off and sneak a glance his way when she thought he wasn’t looking.
But he was always looking.
Drawn to her in a way he couldn’t explain, Levi couldn’t help himself.
Wearing a chambray dress of pale blue, Lucy stood at the campfire with her sister. Their attention rapt, Victoria and Mary Alice studied her shoveling hot embers on top of a lidded cast-iron pot. The oven their mother tried to bring from back east, too heavy and cumbersome, had been long since abandoned. Preparing meals on the trail, especially without the conveniences the girls were accustomed to, had proven to be a laborious task.
“She makes it seem so easy.” Her shoulders slumping, Mary Alice sighed. “Why, just yesterday, I burnt what would have been a perfectly good apple pie.”
“It’s trial and error, Mare, that’s all.” Pulling her close, Victoria consoled her twin.
Levi proffered a smile. “With practice, I’m sure you’ll master it.”
“I don’t want to,” she snapped. Her face reddening, his sister stomped her foot into the dirt. “I want a proper kitchen with a real stove.”
“You will if you want to taste an apple pie again before we get to California,” Victoria said.
“Won’t get to, anyhow.” Crossing her arms, her face took on a pout. “There’s no more apples.”
“Soon enough, fair sister.” Drawing her into his embrace, Levi smoothed her tangled blonde locks. “I’ll build us a big ole house with a mighty fine kitchen, and plant you a whole damn orchard.”
“You promise?” Glancing up at him, her blue eyes brimmed with tears.
“Cross my heart, Mary Alice.”
And Levi was a man of his word.
Looking around the desolate expanse of land surrounding them, he couldn’t say why his father traded the lives they had for a new one out west. Maybe they hadn’t been rich, but they were content. At least he’d thought so. Was it the lure of wide open spaces? Majestic mountains? Lush green landscapes?
Nothing but a dream.
Yeah, maybe so.
But at what cost? Would he have paid the price had he known? Their father. Their mother. Their brother. All of them gone, and for fucking what?
Didn’t matter now. It was Levi’s responsibility to care for his sisters and to make his father’s dream come true.
Parched, he raised his canteen, draining the last dregs of murky river water, the taste so vile he couldn’t force himself to swallow.
“Goodness’ sake, Levi, you look like you’re going to retch.” Victoria giggled as he spat onto the dirt. “Go down and fetch yourself some fresh water. The river runs clear here. There was hardly any silt in the pail.”
“Almost none at all.” Mary Alice nodded her agreement. “Didn’t have to waste any corn meal.”
Most days, water gathered from the river was poured through the meal to filter out as much of the muck as they could, then boiled and allowed to cool. Still, they drank a lot of dirt. Out here, it was simply a given.
His gaze returning to Lucy, Levi wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.
“And give yourself a good washing while you’re at it,” Victoria said, giving him a cake of soap. “You stink.”
Noted.
“Stay right here, where Elijah can keep an eye on you. I won’t be long.”
With his hands in his pockets, Levi walked away from his sisters until the only sounds to be heard were the incessant winds and the burbling of the North Platte. Those same snow-capped mountains still loomed ahead. Never budging from the horizon, they appeared to be no closer than they had the week before.
A swift-flowing stream emptied into the brackish water of the river, the surrounding trees standing like shadowy sentinels against a dark sapphire sky. He unbuttoned his cotton shirt, its once light-blue color, now nothing more than a dingy gray, and grabbing it by the banded collar at his neck, pulled it over his head. The chill in the air prickled his skin. Though Levi was loath to do it, he toed off his boots and rid himself of the rest of his clothing, save his drawers. He could use a good scrubbing. Caked in dust and sweat, his scalp itched.
Colder than he expected, Levi let out a yelp as his bare feet touched the water. With the soap in his hand and the canteen around his neck, he waded to the center, dipping his head beneath the surface.
And it felt fucking good.
He cupped his hands to find the water of the clear running stream refreshing and sweet. It sluiced down his skin in jagged rivulets, carrying the stench, the filth, and his worries away with it. For the moment, at least.
After a time, with his fingertips shriveled to prunes, and his limbs numb, Levi rose from the water. He filled his canteen, and turning toward the grassy bank, the air disappeared from his lungs.
Bathed in moonlight, ribbons of ebony blowing about her beautiful face, Lucy stood beside his pile of discarded clothing, a cloth-covered plate in her hands.
As if in a dream, because surely this must be, he moved toward the golden eyes that wouldn’t meet his gaze. Levi knew what she was looking at. Even without daylight, he could see the flush darkening her cheekbones. His drawers, transparent and molded to his flesh, left little to the imagination.
That she saw him so stirred him. His cock twitched.
Water dripped from his beard to bead upon his chest. They stood toe to toe, and she said, “Victoria sent me this way to find you.”
Did she, now?
Her golden gaze finally meeting his, she offered him the plate.
He lifted the cloth from the tin, and with a soaring heart, he smiled.
“Mrs. Clary gave me some eggs, so I made a potato pudding.” Demurely, Lucy smiled back. “Thought you might like some.”
Well, I’ll be damned. She brought me pie.
Outside, icy winter air tickled his nose, but not in here. In here, the air sizzled. The heat of a hundred bodies—hell, likely more than that—filled the old, red barn. Drinking and dancing. Groping and kissing. Darn near everything except fucking in plain view for all to see.
And the smell. God, the smell. Whiskey and hay bales. The scent of Emily’s hair. Jake breathed it in deep.
He wrapped his arm around her middle, and pulling her in close, pressed his lips to the top of her head. She angled her face to glance up at him. A wicked gleam in her pretty green eyes, how he longed to kiss her in that moment.
“That was fun.” Emily giggled, still trying to catch her breath. “Did you like it?”
In a daring display of prowess, Arien brought Shiloh and his wild girl out on the dance floor to one-up Kellan. After putting on a show with Cassie to make his new stepsister jealous, which it did, judging by the amount of Fireball consumed, the dumb fuck made the mistake of challenging the girl.
And she damn sure showed him.
The three of them moved in sync like they’d been dancing together all their lives. Getting down low and winding it up slow. Hell have mercy on his dick because Jake didn’t know his girl had moves like that. But goddammit, he should have.
“Everybody liked it.” There wasn’t a soul in place who didn’t watch them.
Winding his hair around her finger, Emily raised a flask to her lips and swallowed. “I don’t give a shit about them. Did you like it?”
“Yeah, baby.” He spun her around to face him, his nose gliding alongside hers. “I liked it.”
Too much, in fact.
His thumb tracing her spine, he saw Tanner lead Arien out of the barn while Kellan slammed down another shot.
“You’re not to be messin’ with Kellan no more, you hear me?” Jake chuckled, listening to Archer lay down the law to Cassie. “The man’s got a girl of his own now.”
“You sure about that?”
“Sure am,” he said and plucked an unlit cigarette from her lips, snapping it in two. “Besides, I’ll be eighteen in just a few months. I reckon you can wait for that long.”
“But Griffy, what if I can’t?”
“That’s what you got these for, girly.” Archer took her hand and, kissing her fingers, he sucked them into his mouth. “And I can watch.”
Chrissakes.
Emily tipped her flask back, draining what remained of the Fireball. Jake took it from her. Again. “C’mon, I’ll get you home.”
“I can get myself home, thank you very much.”
“You could, but I’m not gonna let you.” He held out his hand, lifting his chin at his brother. “Gimme your keys. Billy?”
“Jake, I’m fine.” Yet she dropped them into his palm.
That’s a good girl.
Between the two of them, Emily and Arien had polished off eight ounces of the cinnamon-flavored whiskey. Maybe more, because he was pretty darn sure Emily connived a refill out of Deke Clary.
“I’m driving her home. Take Emily’s car to the house.” He winked, handing his brother the keys. “You can bring it back to her in the morning.”
“Jake…”
“Listen to him, sweet cheeks. I love you.” Billy kissed her, giving her breast a parting squeeze. “I’ll be by bright and early tomorrow.”
He didn’t even get to start the truck.
Her hand on his thigh crept closer to the bulge in his jeans. Placing his hand on hers, Jake stopped her from going any farther. “Emily, behave.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
With a raise of his brow, he shot her a look. “C’mon, Em.”
“I’m tired of all this waiting.” Pouting, she laid her head on his shoulder.
Jake held her, his fingers sliding through the silky chestnut locks. “You know the rules.”
“They’re stupid.”
“They aren’t,” he insisted, though at the moment he wanted to toss them out the window. “You’re only seventeen.”
“Jacob Gantry, sometimes I think you really don’t want me.” Emily scooted away from him.
“That so?”
Her arms crossed over her chest, she answered with a nod.
“And what makes you think this?”
Emily turned her head and said in all seriousness, “There’s ways of touching without touching.”
With a shake of his head, he chuckled. “That don’t make a lick of sense.”
“Does so.” Her lips turned up, and looking at him, that gleam in her eyes returned. Emily raised the hem of her dress, fingers inching toward that triangle of lace between her legs. “And lookin’ ain’t touchin’.”
“Emily, don’t…”
“You want me to stop?”
“No.” Looking isn’t breaking any rules. “You’re killin’ me here, but keep going.”
A slow, torturous death, yet one he was willing to suffer. This was his test, and so be it. Jake loved this girl, his wild one. It was as simple as that.
“Tell me what you want me to do, what you’d be doin’ to me if you could.”
I’d be inside you already…
He started the truck and turned the heat on. “Slide them panties off, baby. Show me that pretty pussy.”
In the semi-darkness of the cab, his eyes drank her in. Smooth lips, a patch of dark curls at the cleft. The opening he’d be the first to take, glossy with her sweetness. She wet her lips, her tummy quivering with every breath.
“You’re beautiful, Emily.” Jake took her hand, kissing the back of it. “I want you so fucking bad.”
“And I want you.” She reached for his hair, but squeezing her hand, he stopped her before she could. He’d take her in his arms and kiss her. Fuck, he’d ruin her if she touched him like that, and Jake could not fail this test.
“Play with your nipples.”
Glancing at him, she bit her lip.
“That’s what I’d be doin’.” He closed his eyes, imagining it. “Suckin’ on ‘em. Biting ‘em. Mmm, listening to your little cries.”
When he opened them again, her plump breasts spilling out from their prison of lavender lace, Emily held her nipples between her fingers. Tracing the areolae with her thumbs, they puckered, accentuating her succulent rosy tips. “Like this?”
“Pinch ‘em. Hard.” Damn. He watched them swell. She rewarded him with a whimper. “Yeah, baby, just like that.”
Dying to touch her, his dick strangled inside his jeans. Jake rubbed over the placket in an attempt to assuage the ache. It only made it worse.
Emily noticed. “I wanna see you.”
And he wanted her to.
Looking isn’t breaking any rules.
A painful relief, his dick slapped his belly. Hot and hard, his desire for her wept from the tip. He swirled it around the head with his thumb.
“I can’t wait to taste you.”
I can’t wait either, my love, but I will.
“Let me watch you come.” That he could have, at least. “I want to be lookin’ in those pretty green eyes when you do.”
“Do I get to watch you, then?” There was that gleam again, and her hands fell from her breasts.
“You want to see that?”
“I do.”
My wild, wicked girl.
He stroked himself, tugging hard from base to tip, listening to the sounds. The rustling of her dress. Fingers rubbing wet flesh. Soft moans. Her cry as she came.
Jake’s eyes never strayed from hers.
And through it all, he watched her.