Petals on the River (55 page)

as she finally settled across from him.
 
"Just let me know when you're

ready.
 
I'll come down and saddle the mare for you.
 
She'll be better

behaved for Andrew."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Shemaine hastened to assure him with a

flitting smile.
 
"My father required me to know how to saddle and bridle

a horse at a very early age."

"Well, at least I can brush her down for you," Gage insisted, spooning

food onto Andrew's plate.

Shemaine folded her hands in her lap as she carefully rejected his help.

"Your offer is most appreciated, Mr.
 
Thornton, but I would hate to take

you away from your work when I'm fully capable of doing it myself.

Besides, Andrew will have to learn." It would be better by far if her

master kept his distance and allowed her to cool her infatuation.

That was the whole point of asking him to let her teach his son how to

ride, to get her thoughts directed elsewhere.
 
Shemaine glanced quickly

away as she ventured to another request.
 
"I was also wondering if you

would mind if I rode with Andrew."

Gage was impressed by the clearness of her eyes in profile, for they

looked like tiny, rounded caps of emerald glass afixed to the white.

"Victoria's sidesaddle is in the tack room," he murmured in distraction.

"You're welcome to use it, if you wish."

"Thank you, Mr.
 
Thornton," she said, demurely yielding him her

attention as she handed a basket of biscuits across the table, "but I

think it would be better if Andrew and I rode together without a saddle.

I'm sure yours would be much too big for him and would not allow me to

sit at ease behind him."

Andrew had followed their conversation closely, and after a momentary

silence in which the elders searched each other's gazes, he leaned

forward to claim Shemaine's attention.
 
"Sheeaim an' Andee gonna ride

horsey?"

She nodded.
 
'After I finish my morning chores."

"Andee help you," the boy eagerly volunteered.

It was midmorning when Shemaine finally hoisted Andrew astride the mare

and, after taking a place behind him, adjusted her full skirts to

preserve her modesty.
 
The boy was delighted and anxious to learn all

that she could teach him.
 
He proved most attentive, and soon he was

reining the horse around the yard himself, albeit under her careful

supervision.

As for Gage, the sawdust-covered windows of the cabinet shop greatly

hindered his view, and wiping the panes with a dampened cloth, he

realized, left them streaked with a thick, murky film.
 
After noticing

the pair in the back yard, his usual zeal and dedication to work

declined sharply.
 
Indeed, he seemed oblivious to his apprentices and

the several questions they asked him.
 
Gage had sensed in the kitchen

that Shemaine really didn't want him anywhere around during the lessons,

and though he tried to restrain himself, the sight of her riding in

elegant form behind his son sharply piqued his interest, and he was soon

motivated by a growing desire to watch her at closer range.

Finally he gave up the struggle and, with a muttered excuse, left the

shop, heedless that Sly and the others were nudging each other and

exchanging meaningful winks.

The excitement and delight Andrew derived from directing the mare around

the yard became immediately apparent to Gage, as did the equestrian

skills of his bondslave.
 
Indeed, she sat a horse as if she had been

born to it.

"Come, Daddee, ride with us," the youngster urged eagerly, and motioned

for his father to get on behind Shemaine.
 
"Take us on the road. Please,

Daddee!"

Chuckling at the charming summons, Gage approached them.

Shemaine nearly panicked at the thought of being caught between the man

and the boy.
 
"I'll get down and let you take Andrew."

"No need," Gage assured her, stepping beside them.
 
"The mare is able to

bear our combined weight for a short ride."

"Oh, but I have things to do," Shemaine argued, unwilling to experience

another heady encounter similar to that which she had endured during

shooting practice.

Gage peered at her curiously.
 
"But I thought you said you were going to

tend your chores before coming out here."

Small, white teeth tugged nervously at a bottom lip as Shemaine met his

pointed stare.
 
She didn't want him to think she had lied, and yet no

other excuse had seemed as viable.
 
Her delay in answering concluded the

matter for Gage, and with a quick movement, he swung up behind her.

Settling against her rigid back, he reached around in front of them and

took the reins from Andrew.

"Hold the boy," he instructed, curbing a chuckle as he sensed his

bondslave's tension.
 
"And try to relax, Shemaine.
 
You're as stiff as a

cypress plank."

She heard the laughter imbued in his tone and wanted to hotly declare

her inability to comply.
 
It would have been impossible for any woman to

blandly ignore the sturdy thighs buttressing her buttocks. Indeed, she

was nearly undone by the pressure of his work-hardened form against her

back.
 
Yet the protestations that raced through her frantic thoughts and

tempted her tongue would have readily revealed what she was really

afraid of.

Gage reined the mare around and touched his heel lightly to her flank to

send the animal in a leisurely canter toward the lane.
 
He rode easily

and, Shemaine thought, well enough to hold his own in the company of

equestrians with whom she was either acquainted or kin.
 
But then, his

performance and riding ability could have been better evaluated if she

were not virtually sitting in his lap.

The lane twined lazily through the trees, turning this way and that

beneath a lofty canopy of overhanging branches.
 
A doe with her fawn

darted across the road ahead of them, drawing an excited cry from

Andrew.
 
Almost as quickly, the deer disappeared into the woods on the

far side.
 
For a time, Gage kept the mare to a walk as he indulged

himself with studying minute parts of the young woman he casually

embraced.
 
His gaze admiringly caressed a small ear and a pale, creamy

nape where curling wisps escaped a braided knot, while her delicate

fragrance bestirred his senses.
 
His greatest delight, however, was

being able to surround her with his arms and body.

A nervous glance cast quickly by Shemaine over her shoulder made Gage

aware that she was sensitive to his close scrutiny, and he knew if he

didn't soon relent, she'd be leaving them and walking home.
 
Though she

had not yet voiced an objection, she was nevertheless prone to twitch

uncomfortably when his male form pressed too close.
 
The temptation to

do so was almost more than he could withstand.

Upon reaching a shallow stream (the same which fed the pond in front of

the cabin), Gage forced his thoughts onto a different path and urged the

steed into the brook at a fast trot, making Andrew and Shemaine squeal

in surprise as the water sprayed upward from the flashing hooves.
 
His

chuckles clearly conveyed his mischievous delight.

When they reached the far bank, Andrew wanted more.
 
"Do it gain Daddee!

"

"If you insist," Gage replied with a chuckle, turning the horse back

into the creek and drawing more delighted shrieks from his companions.

"I'm going to be soaked if you don't stop!" Shemaine cried through her

laughter.

'' Tis a warm day," Gage reasoned with humor behind her.

''Aye, but the water is cold!" she protested, and then sucked in her

breath as a new volley of droplets splashed her.
 
She wiped wet runnels

from her face and, for the sake of modesty, ignored those that trickled

down into the deep crevice between her breasts.

Once they reached the horses' paddock near the cabin, Gage slid to the

ground and lifted Andrew down.
 
After sweeping Shemaine from the back of

the steed, he stood her to her feet and stepped back with a grin before

his eyes were lured downward by the wetness of her gown.

Following his descending gaze, Shemaine glanced down in some confusion

and felt a hot blush suffuse her cheeks as she saw her soaked bodice

molding her breasts, clearly defining the chilled tautness of her

nipples.
 
With a low mortified moan, she fled into the house, stumbling

on the way and, in the process, losing her slippers.
 
She dared not

pause to retrieve them, but leapt barefooted up the porch steps,

snatched open the back door and disappeared within.

Gage followed with Andrew at a much more dignified pace and scooped up

her wet shoes as he went.
 
He was standing near the hearth in the

kitchen, trying to appease his son' s unquenchable curiosity about a

wide variety of subjects, when Shemaine finally came downstairs garbed

in a fresh gown.
 
Her dampened hair had been combed into a neat bun

behind her nape, and the lace of her collar stood on end around her

long, creamy throat.
 
Her beauty bestirred his awe, and he was wont to

appease his hungering eyes.
 
Indeed, he couldn't seem to get enough of

looking at her lately.

Hesitantly Shemaine reached out a hand.
 
"My shoes."

Gage glanced down and realized he was still holding them in his hand.

"They're damp."

"So are yours," she said, indicating his boots and the leggings of his

buckskin breeches, which were thoroughly soaked to his knees and damp

along the outer sides of his thighs and hips.
 
Her skirts had obviously

provided protection for other areas, which were dry.
 
"You'd better get

changed.
 
I'll have food on the table before too long."