Marrying Minda (22 page)

“You had plenty of chances.”

“Minda ... the kids...”

“Priscilla's asleep. Katie and Ned are playing with the ball I made for the baby. I just checked.”

“Still. At least let's get to Strawberry's stall. Plenty of fresh hay.” He got up to bar the door.

But when he came back with a saddle blanket, she read hesitation in his eyes despite the physical proof of his need burgeoning beneath his denims.

“Minda, this isn't a good idea.”

“It's a wonderful idea, Brixton.” She resolutely spread the blanket. “I'm your wife. You've said it yourself.”

“Won't change a thing,” he said, although his hands further untied her ribbons. “I'm still leaving.”

“Then we can make the best of the time we've got left.”

Dropping his fingers, he shook his head. “No. I'm not up to it.”

“Oh, I think you are.” She smiled, laying her hand on the lump beneath his trousers. Her boldness shocked her, but the woman who had shot a man to protect a husband and home she hadn't had a week wasn't a fainthearted ninny after all.

A low, guttural moan rumbled from her husband's perfectly-sculpted chest. She helped him slide out of his shirt, and they lay down. Minda leaned toward him, placing her fingertips lightly across his copper-coin nipples. She'd noticed during his bath that he liked her touching him there. It had surprised her somewhat. But remembering her newfound bravery, and how much his lips on her breasts tantalized her, she placed her mouth and tongue on his nipple.

“Oh God.” Brixton's whole body tensed. “Oh, Minda.” Sounds seethed between his teeth. “I think I died and am now in heaven.”

She moved to his mouth, silencing him with her lips and tongue in ways he had taught her. He tasted only of manly health in spite of his pain and injury, and she wanted more, all of him.

She sat up and slipped off the rest of her clothes, feeling the power of her nakedness.

“Ah, heaven indeed.” Brixton breathed, taking one breast gently but firmly into his hand, his warm fingers sculpting her flesh to new pleasures. She raised her face, her hair streaming down her back. “Now, you know...” He looked away, almost blushing. “You know, don't you, you'll need to get on top of me? My leg's sore down to my knee.”

Heat covered her. She had never considered such a position.

“I'll get you started. You'll figure it out.” His laugh came with gentle amusement. “Now, lie here beside me for a time. Then when you're ready...”

She knew what that meant. He touched that special place of hers she'd never heard mentioned in real words, just blushing mumbles after her sisters’ honeymoons. That special place that had a life all its own, and music only she could hear, colors only she could see. It wouldn't feel like this with any other man. She knew it in her soul.

For moments that lasted forever, his hands blessed her, his lips feasting on her breasts as if they gave him life. She moaned, her mouth searching the hard, muscled span of his neck, and she nibbled him.

His strong firm hands guided her to her knees, and she straddled him. A smile of ecstasy lurked under his moustache, and she leaned down to cover his mouth with hers.

As her hand searched for the manhood raging and reaching for her through his open trousers, she lowered to him. His tip nudged her core and as she settled, he slipped inside, deeper than before. Her knees went weak as her thighs tightened around him, and placing her hands firmly over his nipples, she rose and fell upon him. His eyes praised her, his hands fervently cupped the mounds of her breasts. Then he gasped, and her world turned bold colors.

Triumphant music sang in her ears. They shuddered at the same moment, and she collapsed on his chest.

When she could manage words, she spoke.

“Brixton, will you at least miss me a little when you're gone?”

“Minda, I'd miss you even if we'd never met at all.”

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Chapter Fourteen

Brixton slept in the barn again that night, but with Minda's full permission.

She'd tingled in her bed alone, arms wrapped around her body as she recalled every delicious detail of their magical lovemaking in that most unlikely place.

Determined to keep his heifer comfortable before the fair, Ned had insisted that he and his uncle spend the night in the barn, singing lullabies to her. Minda had given her prompt consent, thinking it a chance for the boy to conquer his demons.

Her husband had behaved tenderly at supper, sitting close like Katie always arranged their settings, and giving her a real good-night kiss in front of the children.

It appeared Minda had taken her chance and won.

Although the mottled looking glass in the bedroom was all she had to go by on Monday morning, Minda considered her new bonnet a masterpiece. It thrilled her even more than her wedding veil.

She'd envisioned a variation on the high-crowned Regency hats of years gone by. Her scissors had seemed to know where to cut the purple wool brilliantine without measurement. She hadn't had to rip out one single stitch.

The spray of velvet violets drooped perfectly over her left ear instead of the old-style feather, and for drama, a ruche of lavender taffeta tickled the back of her neck.

As the final inspiration, the right amount of silver netting left over from Katie's new Sunday hat draped with perfection into a whimsical veil.

She smiled to herself. Yesterday at church had been nothing but triumph with a half-dozen down payments.

Not to mention her reward.

Katie grabbed Minda's hand. “Oh, you look beautiful, Mama. You would win a prize for the best hat.”

Minda glanced coquettishly at her reflection through the veil. “Well, that's not the purpose of the Bonnet Race.”

“I sure hope Uncle Brix wins the money. Then maybe he'll stay.

Maybe he would. He'd certainly been attentive enough since, well, that moment in the barn.

She touched Katie's cheek. “Firefly, let's think only happy thoughts today.” She forced the nightmare of Caldwell Hackett winning the race from her mind. Ned's babbling and Brixton's brisk voice, though normally delightful, prickled her skin. Why were they back? They should be long gone, getting the heifer to town.

Around here, she didn't expect a change of plan to mean anything good.

Brixton smiled sheepish from the doorway, looking at her in a way that made her heart thunder. More than ever she was glad for the gorgeous hat and the purple dress she sensed he liked. For a change of pace, she'd design a different gown in a similar color soon as she could. But right now her everyday gown smelled of sunshine, starched thick as a plank.

“Now, Clem didn't want me to wear myself out before the race,” Brixton said. “So Ned's heifer's already on the road to town with him. I hitched Buttermilk to the wagon. You get the kids to town. I'll be taking Strawberry directly to Shell Creek.”

“But...” She wanted to ask if he'd have time to get a practice run in, but he rushed, looking at her square on.

“I'm going to win that race, Minda.”

Ned burst into the house, leading something black and white and furry close behind him on a twine. “Clem and Monty gave us a puppy! Uncle Brix told them to. But Mama...” His guileless eyes turned a brighter blue as he looked at Minda. “I will always love my toy dog best of all.”

With a hangdog grin, her husband shrugged. In his denim riveted trousers and gray shirt laced at the neck with a leather strand, he looked every inch the cowboy he was. He held his Stetson in his hand, but tipped it at her anyway.

“Farm bitch whelped three months ago,” he said. “Last one left. She'll be a herder.” The grin left for a second, flashing instead a bleak stare.

Was this a good-bye gift for the children?

Had yesterday had been nothing but his good-bye kiss, and something more? She had started it, to be sure, but he hadn't complained.

A glimpse in the glass revealed a sickly pallor under her lovely hat. She pinched her cheeks. She'd already told Katie not to think unhappy thoughts today. Right now, Neddie's joyful face meant his nightmares might be chased away.

So she smiled. Katie shrieked with excitement and knelt to grapple the dog close.

“Now, the pup's housebroke, Minda. The kids've been yammering for one, and I...”

Minda was strangely touched. “It's a lovely thought, Brixton.” At least they'd started to use their christened names. “You have every right to give your niece and nephew a dog.”

She wanted to hug him in assurance, but he turned away. “I should have asked you first. I don't want to cause you more bother, with Mabel now twice a day. But you sure learned that milking quick.” His schoolboy smile was back, but the glaze in his eyes was a man's. “I bet you start a dairy of your own outside of a week.”

Her face must have colored to match her hat. Her lips parted in remembrance.

His hot, dark eyes lowered to the children. “Now kids, your little girl cow needs a name before the judging.”

Ned's good nature returned. “We named her Dicey, Uncle Brix, for Paradise. You always say G.T.T., but we reckon Paradise is better.”

Minda almost couldn't bear it, so she checked Priscilla, who was prattling on the big bed with her cloth ball to her mouth. From the corner of her eye, she saw Brixton swallow hard behind his leather tie.

“It's a grand name,” was all Brixton said. Ned and Katie tore out of the house with the puppy, and Brixton leaned down to Priscilla who hung on to his neck with a steady steam of
da-da
and
ma-ma
.

Minda's heart twisted when he kissed the baby's hair.

“I'm almost ready,” she said.

He stood up and looked at her. “Like I say, I'm going to win that race. No man's going to kiss you but me, Minda.” For a long time, his gaze never left her, as though he were memorizing her face. “It might not be the marriage you came for, but I'm the husband you got.”

She knew. She'd accepted her call already. He was the one leaving.

“Wish me luck, Minda.”

“Why, Brixton, you know I do...” He silenced her with a kiss, quick as a butterfly in flight.

Before she could make a sound, he was gone. Dashing to the window, she watched him ride off, one with the wind and the earth, atop a horse where he belonged.

* * * *

He still tasted the kiss, and that purple hat would live on forever behind his eyelids. But even with Strawberry's high confident gait, Brix couldn't help but feel glum as he headed to Shell Creek for the start of the race.

He shouldn't have made love to her yesterday, for that certainly was what it had been. He'd taken advantage, pure and simple. As for the race, this horse wasn't his. While he could master any piece of horseflesh on earth, it took time. He didn't know Strawberry well, and his wound hadn't allowed for much training. He'd needed to save his strength for today.

Sighing, he looked around him at the cornfields and knolls and stands of trees that separated homesteads. As a kid, he could have got to Shell Creek blindfolded in the dark of midnight in a blizzard, but truth was, he hadn't scoped this land since those long ago days.

Along the road, other riders passed him on horses of varying age and competence, all with a howdy or a hat tip. Jake rode ahead on a mule-hipped broomtail, as foolish in the saddle as Brix would be sermonizing on a Sunday. But his pal's reasons were pure. He was doing it for his Gracey, no matter how humiliating it might be.

Brix's soul darkened. He was doing this only for himself. But he wasn't about to bring shame in the doing. His confidence surged. Do it he would, and win. Minda would have enough triumph of her own. Spying that hat, ladies from miles around would order dozens more. She'd have confidence enough to forget yesterday.

“How do.” He cantered up to Jake with a smirk. “You do Gracey proud.”

Jake flushed. “I don't know why it means so much to her, but it makes her happy. Her pa always outfits me with the slowest pudding-foot he can find so I can't fall off.” He paused, and Brix guessed what was coming next. Jake had not kept it a secret that he admired Minda, and found her a suitable mate for Brix. No doubt he considered this a true sweetheart event.

“Don't you start preaching to me, Jake.” Brix held up a warning hand. “I'm running this race for me. Could use the money. And Hackett isn't putting his brand on my wife. Minda won't be fair game after I go.”

“What does it matter, if you aren't here?” Jake bobbled atop his horse despite the animal's big, sure feet.

“She's my wife.”

“But you don't want her.”

Brix gulped, tipped his hat lower. Of course he didn't, at first. And now, well, he admitted he did. He was a man, and a man could get lost in her body and never find his way out. That night in the storm, he'd liked having someone to come home to. But his way was coming home every once in a while. Everybody knew it. Jake, most of all, knew why Brix was leaving.

“A good woman's hard to find,” Jake said

“You got lucky, Jake. You always knew Gracey was the one, ever since we were kids.” Brix relaxed. Strawberry began to feel comfortable beneath him.

“Yes, I was lucky. Yours didn't happen to be here then. But she's here now.” Jake cast him a sideways look, eyebrows raised high.

Brix grunted.

“And you can't possibly find someone as good as she is, traveling the trails the rest of your life. Who are you going to grow old with, a longhorn?” Jake's horse hit a pebble, and he grabbed the horn with both hands.

Brix decided not to mock Jake's lack of skill, but he downright disliked his friend's scolding. He'd planned on growing old with Esperanza, and look how that had turned out. It was better not getting anybody's hopes up, just sending money when he could. Dropping by to see the kids now and then.

“Well then, why not stay close at least? Don't cattle ranches in the Sand Hills need your skills?”

“I need the trail. Besides, folks in Texas know me, know they're getting a square deal. You might as well stop your meddling, Jake.” Brix got ready to knee the horse into a gallop. “Been all right up to now. Never wanted family knots. You, best of all, know that.”