Be My Texas Valentine (7 page)

She straightened to her very proper self. “I don’t know why. You’re the one who ate them all.”

He climbed in beside her, patting her leg resting next to his as though he’d touched her there a hundred times. When she didn’t move away, he flicked the reins to start the buggy moving and let his hand rest on her knee. The feel of her, the knowledge that she didn’t mind, made him half drunk with need. “How’s your hand?”

“The cut closed fast. Only the puffiness remains. How’s your head?”

“Nothing but a blue mark.” He settled, letting his leg press against hers. They might not talk, but in a strange way, they were communicating.

They were almost to the trading post when he broke the silence. “I want you to buy yourself a good pair of gloves.”

“I don’t—”

“You need them.” He could tell she was planning to argue, so he added, “End of discussion.”

“All right, but while you go to the grain store, I’d like to visit with my father.”

“We need to get back as soon as possible. It’s only been two days since—”

“I’m stopping by his place.” She met his gaze. “End of discussion.”

They both laughed as they pulled to a stop, drawing the attention of several people. Brody was used to people frowning and looking away when he scanned a crowd, but today a few met his stare and one lady he remembered seeing at the dance even smiled at him.

In the trading post, most of the talk was about rustlers moving into the territory. Times were hard and there were those who took what they wanted. The war had left too many men wounded in more than just body; some seemed stained all the way to their souls. After five years of fighting they didn’t much care about anything but themselves and staying alive. To add trouble, the Indian Wars were raging to the north and rustlers were running the border.

Brody had a pair of Colts and a rifle, but he hadn’t noticed any weapons at the farm. While Valerie was busy picking up supplies, he slid in ammunition and another rifle to the pile she was collecting.

The store owner noticed and gave a slight nod. “Better safe than sorry,” he mumbled and moved around next to Brody. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Yank, how have you been feeling lately?”

Brody thought for a moment that maybe the bump on his forehead, or the one in back from hitting the headboard, might be showing. “I’m fine,” he answered a bit too quickly.

“No fever. Not feeling sickly?” The store owner pushed. “Folks been asking. After all, you’ve been married going on three days.”

Brody knew people were waiting for the widow’s curse to kick in. “No, I’ve never been better.” Despite the bruises over a few falls lately, he’d answered honestly.

The store owner looked like he believed him. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, but if you do get to feeling bad, you get right to a doc, you hear.”

Half an hour later, Brody was still thinking about how folks were just waiting for him to pass away any moment when the blacksmith asked him how he was doing.

“Fine, Parker,” Brody answered. He’d known the big man for over a year, but Parker had never asked about his health.

“Here you go.” The blacksmith passed him an old horseshoe. “You might hang this over the barn door. They say it’s good luck. Might keep away a curse. Make sure you turn it upward to catch the luck.”

“I’ll do that.” Brody frowned. “What’s the odds on me over at the saloon?”

The blacksmith shrugged, seeing no problem in telling the truth. “Two to one you’ll be dead in a week.”

Brody pulled out a twenty-dollar gold piece he’d been keeping for emergencies. “Place a bet for me, would you?”

“Which way?” Parker grinned.

Brody smiled. “That I’ll make the week. If I don’t, I won’t need the money, and if I do, I’ll have tripled my investment.”

The blacksmith smiled. “I like your way of thinking, Yank. You know, if you limped when you walked back to your buggy, you might get better odds.”

Brody didn’t know whether to laugh or get worried. There was something unsettling about people betting on when he’d die and he’d been concentrating on not limping all morning thanks to yesterday’s fall. Everything from the cow kicking him in the head to him slipping on the muddy ground when he walked the land could all be just accidents.

By the time he picked up grain and drove over to get Valerie, two more people had stopped to ask how he was feeling.

He said hello to her father, but couldn’t think of much to add. The old guy wanted to see her married, but Brody had a feeling Papa thought he’d be involved in the husband picking.

As soon as Brody walked with Valerie off the porch, he slipped his arm around her waist. “I missed you,” he said and was surprised at how much he meant it.

He would have kissed her when he lifted her into the buggy, but several people were standing on the road looking like they were waiting for a parade.

Brody growled low in his throat and moved in beside his wife.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered as she waved at a few of the small groups out walking.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he answered.

“Of course, dear,” she answered with a pat of her hand. “As soon as we’re alone. It wouldn’t be proper in public.”

He slapped the reins and moved through town at what some were probably predicting was a reckless speed. There would be bets at the saloon tonight on how he’d die.

Valerie talked about a book her father told her he was reading, but Brody barely listened.

As soon as the town disappeared from view, Brody pulled the buggy to a stop. “How about now?” His words were not as forceful as they should have been.

“How about what?”

He looped the reins. “How about you kissing me? We’re alone.” He cleared his throat, forcing back what sounded like an order. “I mean, if you’ve no objection.”

She hesitated, then lifted that perfect chin of hers. “Well, all right, though I don’t think the middle of a road is the place for such things.”

“I don’t care,” he whispered as she put her gloved hands on his shoulders and leaned forward.

When her lips touched his, everything else vanished. Her mouth was soft and hesitant. He felt laughter against his lips as if she thought herself wicked for giving in to such things in broad daylight.

He circled her with one arm and pulled her against him, loving the feel of her next to him. When she didn’t pull away, he opened his mouth and took control of the kiss. He felt her shiver as his hand moved up and held her head just right so that he could take his time tasting her lips.

He never dreamed a woman could taste so good. He was becoming addicted to his wife. He told himself it was just all the years of being alone, but he knew it was more, far more. He didn’t just want a woman; he wanted her. Just her, like this in his arms, kissing him back.

When she broke the kiss, she leaned against his chest, breathing rapidly. He held her gently, brushing his hand slowly over her back.

“That was ...” she whispered, then took several breaths.

“I know,” he answered, cupping her face in his hands. The hunger to taste her again was already building in him. “I could get used to kissing you.”

She smiled shyly and stretched toward him.

A wagon rattled along the road in front of them. For a moment they both just watched it grow near.

When she finally pulled away and straightened her clothes, he whispered, “I wouldn’t mind if you want to kiss me again like that sometime in the near future.”

“I’ll remember that,” she answered.

The couple in the wagon waved as they passed, and Brody took the reins. He didn’t say anything the rest of the way home, but he thought he was going to have a heart attack when Valerie’s hand reached over and patted his leg.

This woman who wanted as little contact as possible was changing, and he wasn’t sure he’d be man enough to handle her soon.

All day, as he worked, he thought about her. She’d had so much sadness in her life, maybe she thought she had to ration feelings. She might never love him, but he believed he could make her want him, and if she wanted him, that would be enough. He was just the first man who came along she thought would risk stepping over the curse to be with her, and in truth, he wasn’t really living anyway before he sat down on that bench at the dance.

He finished up work an hour before sunset. They ate supper and sat out on the porch as night came on. Their nearest neighbor rode past and yelled hello. To Brody’s surprise, he turned in and asked how they were doing. He said his wife had made a pie and told him to take it over to the newlyweds.

Brody had seen the man several times, but had never spoken to him. Suddenly, the farmer was talkative. When Valerie went in to get plates and forks, the farmer asked how Brody was feeling.

“Fine.”

The farmer offered him a two-headed coin. “Keep this in your pocket at all times. It’ll bring you luck.”

Brody didn’t want to go into the fact that he didn’t believe in luck or curses. He just thanked the man. When Valerie returned, they ate the pie on the steps; then she said good night to the gentlemen as if she thought they’d want to discuss important matters.

All Brody wanted to do was go to bed with his wife.

The farmer sat around talking about crops and tricks he used when planting for another half hour before climbing on his horse and heading back across the road.

Brody knew Valerie would be in bed, probably already asleep by the time he cleaned up and joined her. It didn’t matter; as long as he could hold her, it would be a perfect ending to the day. All the years of having no one to hold drifted away at just the thought of her. He’d never known himself to miss such a thing, but now, he knew he’d miss her beside him the rest of his life if they separated.

She rolled toward him as he stretched his arm out. “You asleep?” he whispered.

“No,” she answered.

“Mind if I kiss you good night?”

“No.” She sounded sleepy.

He rolled toward her, pressing her lightly into the pillows as his mouth found hers. He’d meant to kiss her softly, but when he tasted her, he couldn’t hold back. Her mouth opened, and he was lost in one wonderful kiss. The feel of her breathing beneath him almost drove him mad. He pressed just a little more, letting her take some of his weight.

When he finally pulled an inch away, he whispered against her cheek, “You weren’t asleep at all.” She’d been fully awake and waiting for him. The knowledge made him proud.

“I’d like another kiss, please,” she whispered. “If you’ve no objection to losing a few moments’ sleep. I find I rather enjoy the feel of your lips on mine.”

“You can have the night, if you want it.” His hand slid along her throat as he kissed her tenderly. The collar of her gown fell away and he kissed down her neck, loving the softness of her skin and knowing the open buttons were her silent gift to him. He wanted more, much more. He wanted his wife, but reason told him to move slowly. After one more kiss, he lay on his back and settled her head on his chest.

His finger moved down the vee of her gown. “Thank you but there are still far too many buttons. Unbutton another, love.”

He felt her stop breathing for a moment, and then her hand slipped between his and the cotton of her dress. She pulled one more pearl free.

She didn’t move as he tugged the material back and kissed the hollow of her throat. Then, with every ounce of effort he could muster, he leaned back as she rested on his chest.

For a while they were both still, but he knew she wasn’t asleep.

Finally, she put her chin on his chest and asked, “What do you want of me? If I can’t have children, will you still want me near?”

“Yes,” he answered against her ear. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting you, Valerie. Right now I want to brush my hand over you with only the gown between us but I fear I might frighten you.”

She lay back. “All right, if that is what you want. I like that I can make you happy. I’m not afraid of you, you know, and so far everything you’ve done has been quite nice, but you have to promise to kiss me before and after. That way, if I don’t like it, I’ll at least have the kisses.”

He touched his lips to hers briefly, then moved his hand down her arm. “You’re going to like this,” he whispered against her cheek. “And I promise I’ll kiss you before and after and in between.” When she didn’t protest, he spread his fingers at her waist and moved upward. She made a little sound when his fingers slid over her breasts.

“They’re fuller than I thought,” he said more to himself than her as he cupped one lightly. “And much softer.”

Her entire body seemed to warm, but she didn’t make a move as he gently circled his hand over her again and again, learning the feel of this woman. When he brushed her cheek, he felt a tear.

“Are you all right?”

She began to nod, then answered, “I’ve never been touched like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I am cherished.”

He kissed her again and said simply, “It’s time we got some sleep.”

As she cuddled against him, his arm bent and rested lightly over her breast. She didn’t move away.

“You are cherished,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. “You always will be.”

He lay thinking of the wonder of this woman and pushing sleep aside for as long as possible. He’d been trying to breathe easy for a while when he felt her raise one hand and unbutton another pearl button of her gown.

Someday, he decided, he’d make her scream with passion, but for now, this was enough. This was Heaven.

Chapter 7

The next morning Valerie kissed Brody once on the cheek to say good-bye.

He laughed, grabbed her waist, and pulled her solidly against him. “We’ll have no light kisses between us. If I’m to be without you until sundown, I’ll taste you fully.”

He bent over her and opened her mouth with his hunger. She could feel the solidness of his body pressed against her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held to him.

When he pulled away and set her on her feet, she laughed. Never in her dreams had she thought a man would want her so. She’d always thought of herself as serviceable to a man. She tried to be a good wife, but neither of her husbands had shown such passion. Venny had thought of her only as someone to bear his children and keep his house. Samuel only wanted someone to come home to. But this one, this husband of convenience, seemed to want her.