Brides of the West (15 page)

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Authors: Michele Ann Young

Tags: #Romance, #Love, #Western, #cowboy, #Regency, #Indian

BOOK: Brides of the West
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She tried to pull away, but he reeled her
back to him.

“Answer me.”

She shook her head. “Only once. The other
times he was whisked away by our maid.”

“What about in your intimate relations with
the man?”

She shuddered. “I do not wish to speak of
it.”

“Don’t deny what happened earlier,
Evangeline. When we were together in the wagon, you flinched. I
felt your body tense when I first entered you. At first I thought
you were repulsed by me, by my scar, that you regretted your
request for me to join you in bed. Then you relaxed and eventually
enjoyed my pleasuring.”

“Garrick’s technique left much to be
desired.”

“He took you violently?”

“He took me without care for my comfort.”

“He raped you.” It wasn’t a question.

She blinked. “A man cannot rape his
wife.”

“The hell he can’t. If a man forces himself
on a woman, he is violating her whether they are married or
not.”

She looked away. “The laws do not view it
that way.”

Slipping a finger beneath her chin, he turned
her face to his. “Why didn’t you tell me before that Mac endured
such cruelty...that you were abused as well?”

“There was no time. We left the hotel so
quickly yesterday I hadn’t a chance to speak to you.”

“You could have explained the situation in
your letters.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, dear heavens, I could
not put such detestable words in a letter! Someone might have read
them!”

Wolf looked over at the child, then back at
her. She had a defensible point. “Payne didn’t harm Mac in any
other way, did he? Beat him?”

Her face paled and she appeared as though she
might be ill.

His stomach turned. “Oh, God, Evangeline did
he abuse Mac physically?”

She shook her head. “No, I...I always managed
to protect Mac from his outbursts. Garrick took his anger out on
me. I was the one he beat when Mac misbehaved.” Tears sprang into
her eyes. “He tried to hurt Mac once, but I arrived in time to stop
him.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her face and
tucked it behind her ear. “If the bastard weren’t dead, I’d kill
him right now for what he did to both of you.”

She flinched.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

Damn! She was still keeping something from
him. “No more lies, Evangeline. No secrets between us. If our
marriage is to survive, there can be no further deceptions between
us.”

Placing a finger beneath her chin, he turned
her face up to his. “You always appear anxious out of Max’s sight.
Has something else happened I should know about?”

She swallowed hard. “A few weeks ago, I
received an anonymous note. From a man, I assume. He said he knew
the truth about what I’d done and one day I would pay for it. He
didn’t elaborate.”

Wolf led her from earshot of Max. “What was
he talking about?”

She kept her voice low. “I’m not certain, but
I presume it’s about Garrick’s death.”

He took her by the shoulders. “Does Mac know
of these letters?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve shielded him
from worry, but there were two more before I left Savannah.”

“Where are the letters?”

“I burned them before I left for Texas.”

“You didn’t alert the authorities?”

“I couldn’t, Wolf.” Her eyes fixed on his.
“There’s something I’ve never told another soul, something only Mac
and I know, with the exception of the person who sent the notes.
It’s about how my late husband
truly
died.”

Wolf’s gut churned. “And how
did
your
husband die?”

She looked away. “Garrick’s death report
states a head injury from a fall.”

Reaching up, he turned her face back to his.
What was she hiding? “The fall wasn’t accidental, was it?”

A commotion with Mac drew their attention
away. The boy was having difficulty lifting one of the pots from
the fire.

“I cannot speak of it right now.” She hurried
to assist Mac.

Wolf blew out a breath of exasperation. Why
did she avoid his questions? His thoughts turned a dangerous
direction as he watched her hug the child. Her love for Mac was
strong. Still, he realized why she coddled him now. Had she killed
Payne to protect Mac? It wouldn’t be inconceivable for a mother to
fight to the death to protect her child, particularly if the man
pushed her to the edge of sanity. Had Payne beat the boy, or God
forbid, worse? He didn’t have a good feeling about this. Tonight
after Mac was asleep he’d get to the bottom of this matter once and
for all.

***

Thunderheads began to build on the horizon by
noon. Evangeline managed to get the still damp bedding she’d been
line-drying into the wagon before a brief downpour. Wolf decided
not to break camp, but to stay put until the heavy storms passed
and the roads were passable again.

After a meal of cold tortillas with softened
butter and fruit preserves, he sent Mac to bed early. He figured
they had at least a good hour or two before another squall arrived,
enough time for a relaxing dip in the cool waters of the nearby
creek.

"I don’t feel safe." Evangeline hugged his
partially submerged body tightly as thunder rumbled in the
distance. "Perhaps we should return to the wagon before the storm
hits. Mac might awaken and become afraid."

Wolf reached around and removed her arms from
his waist, then lifted her chin with his fingertip and bent to
silence her with a gentle kiss on the lips. "The boy is fine,
Evangeline. I told you to stop worrying.”

She shivered. “Do you think we're in
danger?"

He wiggled a brow at her and pressed his
growing arousal against her belly. "
You
most definitely are,
Mrs. Smith.”

At the flash of lightning overhead, she cried
out. He lifted her into his arms and Evangeline slipped her arms
around his neck.

“We should go.” Her breath was as soft as a
caress against his cheek.

Since he’d apparently misjudged the advance
of another quick moving storm, he agreed they
should
take
cover. But he didn’t want to return to camp, not when he still had
so many questions. Her palm lifted to his cheek and he turned to
look at her. Soft, desire-filled eyes met his.

“Make love to me again.”

Evangeline moaned softly as his tongue probed
her mouth. She opened wider to receive him, her hands sliding into
his hair even as the lightning flashed around them. He thrust deep
into her mouth, imitating with his tongue what he wanted to do to
her body. She arched into him, whimpering her need as her hand
reached down and curled tightly around the most intimate part of
him. He staggered deeper into the brush with her in his arms, her
hand still gripping him. Distracted, his body humming frantically
and aching for hers, he narrowly missed walking into a tree. He
took cover beneath the canopy of a dense grove of live oak.

So urgent was his need to claim her again,
there were no preliminaries once they hit the ground. He took her
swiftly at exactly the moment snaking fingers of lightning flashed
across the sky. Her eyes closed and she surrendered herself to him
as forceful gusts of dry, hot wind buffeted them, scouring their
naked bodies with leaves and grass and dirt. Thunder crashed and
boomed around them, rattling both heaven and earth. Tall sycamores
and spindly oaks bent and swayed, their dry limbs creaking and
groaning eerily in the darkness. So lost in passion, he was
scarcely aware a light rain had begun to fall.

Evangeline matched him with a need as urgent
as his own. Cold raindrops pelted his backside and thunder growled
long and ominous as they made love. Her body contracted around his
at the exact time of his release. He stilled and clutched her hips
tightly as he spilled his seed deep inside her.

Afterward, they lay together in the mud,
clinging to one another’s rain-slick bodies in the darkness as the
storm subsided and until lightning was but an intermittent flicker
far off in the southern sky. He was muddy from head to toe and all
points in between. So was she. She shivered in his embrace.

“I think we need another bath.” He propped
himself on an elbow and looked at her. She smiled, a soft, sated
look on her face. He caressed her breast, smoothed his palm over
her flat belly and imagined what she’d looked like with Mac growing
within. So many years had been lost and they’d both endured much
pain. Their marriage might have been founded on shaky ground, the
result of his desire for revenge, yet she’d chosen to stay with him
in spite of his trickery. Now they shared the possibility of having
created new life. If they were to make the marriage work, the time
for secrets was over.

“Can you talk freely now that Mac isn’t
near?”

“I didn’t kill Garrick, if that’s what you’re
wondering.”

“I didn’t accuse you.”

“I saw the doubt in your eyes earlier when we
were talking. You don’t trust me.”

“And you don’t trust me. Otherwise, you would
have told me the truth.”

She sat up and pushed the damp hair from her
face. “I
have
told you the truth. Garrick
did
die
from a head injury and he
was
in a fall, Wolf, but it wasn’t
by my hand, or by Mac’s.”

“You’re protecting someone else.”

She shook her head and sighed. “I simply
cannot speak of it now.” She gasped, placed a hand on his forearm.
“Did you hear that?”

He lay still and listened to the rippling
waters of the nearby creek. Was this her attempt to change the
subject? “What did you hear?”

“It sounded like the snap of a twig beneath
someone’s foot.”

He sat up and listened a moment, again
hearing nothing. “Perhaps you heard a deer.”

She rubbed her hands briskly over her arms.
“I don’t feel safe here. Our clothes are still at the river bank
where we left them. We must get cleaned up and hurry back to the
wagon.”

Still, she avoided the subject. Why?

Rising to his feet, he offered his hand. Her
tiny palm slid over his and he lifted her. She was beautiful
standing there in the moonlight, nude, muddy, her wet hair clinging
to her head and hanging in ringlets. He took her by the shoulders
and kissed her hard.

“I’d almost forgotten what a lusty man you
are.” She laughed softly when he released her. “I’d also forgotten
the uninhibited passions you raise in me.”

“You have a body made for lovemaking,
Evangeline. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you—the night of
your eighteenth birthday at the ranch.”

“I remember.” A hint of sadness tinged her
voice.

“I watched you dance with other men, wishing
I could have been your partner. I dared not approach you before any
of them. They would have hanged me if I even touched your
hand.”

“It was you I wanted to dance with that
night, Wolf.”

He led her down the now muddy trail toward
the water. The night sky had cleared after the storm, the moon
pinned like a pearl on a swatch of black velvet. He watched as
Evangeline scooped handfuls of water and splashed them over her
chest and throat. As if she were suddenly shy, she turned her back
to him, ducked into the water and rose up, her lush curves
glistening as water cascaded from her body in the hazy half-light
from the moon. He moved in behind her, slid his arms around her and
reached up to caress her breasts. Her nipples were tight beads.

“Cold?” Drawing close, he pressed his cheek
against hers.

“A bit.” She leaned back against him. “This
night has been so perfect, Wolf. I don’t want it to end yet.”

He didn’t want the night to end either. “In
many ways it reminds me of our last night together all those years
ago.”

She turned in his embrace, her arms sliding
around his neck to pull his mouth down to hers. She took his mouth
hungrily, hotly, her hand reaching down to caress him as her tongue
plundered his mouth. He’d already taken her twice that morning and
once tonight. He wasn’t certain he had the stamina for another
round.

“Whoa, there, Mrs. Smith.” Drawing back, he
broke the kiss. “Shouldn’t we save a little something for when we
arrive home?”

She laughed, then slipped from his embrace
and gathered their clothing. “I’m only Mrs. Smith on paper. In my
heart I’m Gray Wolf’s bride.”

After dressing, they strolled back to camp,
his arm looped in hers. Regrettably, there wasn’t enough room in
the wagon for the three of them.

“You stay with Mac,” he told her, assisting
her up. “I’ll sleep in the tent tonight. See you in the
morning.”

As he watched her lift the flap and
disappear, a familiar ache tugged at his heart. It had always been
this way when he’d watched her go.

She still hadn’t given him all the details of
Garrick Payne’s death, but he hoped in time she would open up and
trust him. He pitched his tent and bedded down near his family.

***

Two days after leaving Luling, they arrived
in Gonzales.

The log cabin on Wolf’s property was small,
but cozy. Though it had been built more than forty years before,
the structure was in remarkably sound shape. A roofed porch wrapped
around the house. The floors were puncheon, the windows lacking
glass, but shuttered. Since Mac had taken ill with pneumonia last
year, she would ask Wolf to remedy this situation before winter
arrived.

Wolf left her to explore the cabin while he
and Mac went to check on John Patterson, his hired man. She
recalled what Wolf told her, that John had rescued him on the road
after her father’s brutal attack. She was grateful to the man who’d
saved his life and hoped to one day offer her sincerest thanks.

She inspected every inch of the quaint
structure. A narrow staircase in the corner near the fireplace led
to a small attic loft for Mac’s sleeping quarters, or for an
intimate hideaway for her and Wolf. A tiny, square dining table sat
in the middle of the room—barely enough room for the three of them.
The bedroom, parlor, kitchen and bathtub were all in one room. She
wondered if Wolf might add on to the back of the structure for a
second bedroom.

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