Southern Seduction [Bride Train 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (19 page)

BOOK: Southern Seduction [Bride Train 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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“Can I hope that you two will kill each other and leave the lovely lady to me?” asked Marshall from the corner.

“No!”

The echoes of their matching yells filled the room. It reminded Byron of days long ago. He caught Cole’s eye, unable to stop the lip twitch. Cole saw it and raised him a half grin. He upped the ante with a full smile. Cole broke loose in a laugh. Byron joined in.

“Oh, no. You’re not ganging up on me
again
?” Marshall, in on the joke, used the whine of a petulant child.

Cole put down his knife, wiped his hands on his handkerchief and walked up to Casey. She’d paused in mid-chop, wary. Cole smiled openly, a rare occurrence. Her pink cheeks darkened. The vein in her neck throbbed.

“I apologize for not including you in our plans, my dear. It won’t happen again. We’re married, and that means we’re partners.” He scratched the top of one ear. “All four of us, I guess.”

“Yer durn tootin’ it’s all four,” hollered Marshall. A burst of high-pitched barks was followed by murmurs as he settled Zeus again.

Byron tugged Casey’s knife from her hand. He nudged her to the wash basin, then pointed out the door.

“You two have some talking to do. I’ll peel and chop whatever’s here and get the stew started. That is what you were making?” Casey, still silent and red-faced, nodded. “Then out you go.” He made pushing motions with the backs of his hands. “Git!”

“Madam, will you give me the pleasure of a stroll?”

Cole held out his elbow and gave a slight bow. Casey hesitated, then smiled shyly. She tugged at the edges of her pants as if it was a skirt and dropped into one of the best curtseys Byron had seen. She placed her delicate but work-worn and damp hand on Cole’s arm, gave him a look that asked what the holdup was, and sashayed out the door with him.

“Where did you learn to curtsy like that?” asked Cole.

“Mama taught me.”

Cole raised his eyebrows a bit but kept the rest of his face from reacting. Byron waited until their footsteps faded behind the cabin before beginning to peel again.

“Wonder how much talkin’ they’re gonna be doin’, compared to other things.”

Byron lifted an eyebrow at Marshall’s comment. “You think we should look for whisker burns when they get back?”

Marshall folded his hands behind his head and smirked. “You talking about her chin, or under her skirt?”

Chapter 17

 

Cole couldn’t believe the elegant curtsey Casey had given him. Her mama taught her how to do that? Where did she learn while living high in those mountains? Byron’s earlier question came back, haunting him. If Cole learned so much from Grandma without going to a school, why couldn’t Casey have learned just as much? He knew Grandma was from a high-society family, but who was Casey’s mother? Where had she come from and how did she end up married to such a brute?

He escorted his wife a good distance from the cabin. There weren’t any windows on the north or west side of the homestead because of the wind. Byron and Marshall wouldn’t see, or hear them. Casey suddenly took her hand back. She dropped her head and hunched her shoulders. Her toes curled in the dirt. Why wasn’t she wearing boots? He shrugged it off. Rattlesnakes were the least of his worries now. There were men out to hurt her, and—

“I done something that I gotta tell you about,” she said quietly. “And it ain’t that kiss of Byron’s, neither. But I’m wife to all three of you, and what I did ain’t wrong!”

—And he cared far more about her than he’d realized. Her voice quivered. The strong, confident woman was gone. Cole wanted that woman back. Though her head was down, he saw her worry her lip with her teeth. Lips that he wanted to kiss. Teeth that he wanted nibbling him. All over. Especially where all his blood had gathered.

“It’s all right. Marshall told us.”

She looked up. She seemed terrified of what he might do. Her pain stabbed him deep.

“You ain’t mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad.” He kicked at a stick, then realized how childish it was. He zeroed in on her lips for a moment before looking higher. “Casey, you’re Byron and Marshall’s wife as well as mine. You did nothing wrong. It was me.” He made his expression so mild it wouldn’t scare a kitten. “I’d like to hold you now.” She still didn’t move. He held out his arms. “Casey?”

Tears formed in her eyes as she approached, dropping her head down. She kept it that way as he wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest. He sighed, deep and long, and then kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you for telling me, or trying to,” he murmured. “I wasn’t happy to hear it. At first I was furious. No, don’t go.” He tightened his hold and looked down at her. “I wasn’t mad at you. Never with you. It was my cousin I wanted to pound into the floor.” He snorted. “I often want to pound them, so don’t get upset about that happening.”

“Willy grew bigger’n me when he was twelve and I was sixteen. I couldn’t fight him even if I wanted to.” The words were soft, but at least she was talking.

“The reason I was so angry was that I was jealous.” There. He said it. The earth didn’t open up and swallow him, so he went on. “Jealous that you’d given them something special of yours. I wanted you to give it all to me, even though I told myself you weren’t worth it.”

“I’m sorry I’m not what you want,” she whispered. He could barely hear her.

“No, Casey, never say that. I want you just the way you are. And I’m sorry for saying otherwise.”

He could feel her heart racing as fast as his own. The vein in her neck, one he couldn’t wait to nibble, throbbed as fast as his cock. His ever-so-eager cock. But it wasn’t time for that. Not yet, but soon.

“When I told you to marry me.” He smiled when she looked up. “Yes, I know I was arrogant, telling instead of asking. Arrogant and a whole bunch of other words. But I was scared. When I finally admitted it to myself I realized it was because I might lose the only chance of finding a half-decent wife.”

“Half-decent?”

She pulled back, glaring at him. She was so small the two of them were like a terrier and a wolfhound. The bigger dog didn’t fight unless he had to. The smaller one was all fight and fury. She was a handful, but between the three of them they’d keep her right.

“Please let me finish groveling before you interrupt. Grovel means to—”

“I know the word. I ain’t stupid just because I ain’t been to school.”

Heat flashed from his toes to his head. He swallowed, hard.

“You’re right. I never went to school either. And here I am, treating you the way I hate others doing to me.”

A ghost of a smile crossed her face. The heat of embarrassment coursing through his body shifted to a more primal heat.

“I told myself a lie, Casey.” He traced a line up and down her arm. “There was something special about you right from the beginning. Even when I thought you were a boy, I liked how hard you and Willy had worked to get here. At the time I gave the credit to Willy, thinking he was older, but now I know better.”

It was her turn to flush.

“So there I was,” he continued, “standing beside Walt with Judge Thatcher in front of us, angry at myself for getting caught in a marriage I didn’t want. Angry at having everyone witness the wedding I knew I would annul because I insisted you weren’t good enough for me. I never even gave you a chance.”

He thought back to that moment. His tense muscles relaxed. “When I saw you walking toward me, everything else disappeared. Time stopped.” He took a moment to breathe. “I gave myself a mental kick for wanting to make you mine in all ways, and I faced the judge again. In the back of my mind I knew I was a fool, but I pushed that away. I guess I’m a bit stubborn, just like my Grandpa. But me and you are like them, only backward.”

“Backward?” She frowned up at him.

“Grandpa and Grandma were forced to marry. Grandma was raised in an elegant, comfortable home in the city. She went to a good school and was used to the finest things.” He cleared his throat. “I never went to school or anything, but Grandma taught me to act like I did. Grandpa was a distant cousin. He’d grown up on a hardscrabble farm. He couldn’t read, or even write his name. After what her father called her shameful behavior, Grandma was told to marry Grandpa or be sent away to something far worse.”

“Did they see each other first?”

Cole nodded. “They had about an hour to talk before the preacher opened his book. They agreed their marriage would be based on respect, hard work, and trust. That kept them going while they raised three daughters and then three troublesome grandsons.”

He, Marshall, and Byron owed their lives to their grandparents. All they’d asked in return was that their grandsons follow in their footsteps, working hard on the land with a good woman, raising their own children as they’d been taught. Growing up, they never expected to move thousands of miles away to start over. Never expected to see months of snow, miles of treeless land, or their own brand pressed into their cattle.

And never, ever, did they think they’d share the love of a woman like Casey.

Cole blinked quickly and swallowed, but the tightness in his chest didn’t ease. He bent his head to look at his wife, the woman who, he now realized, held his heart. A drop fell on her cheek. Her eyes opened wide. She lifted her hand and touched the wetness with shaking fingers. She looked up in wonder. He wanted to see that look every day of his life.

“I don’t cry,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “Even when Grandma and then Grandpa died.” Another drop landed, then a third.

She brought her fingers to her mouth and tasted his tears. A gesture so innocent and erotic that his heart almost exploded.

“I bet you’re telling yourself you got something in your eye,” she whispered.

He nodded, enjoying the simple pleasure of watching her face. Like her, it was rarely still. Her chin quivered for a moment but she pressed her teeth together to stop it.

“That’s what I told Pappy when Mama died. He didn’t want any tears because he knew he killed her. There was a lotta dust in them days.” She looked up, biting her lip. “I need to tell you something else.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, soothing her.

“Pappy set me up to be married, three times. But they were all killed before we could marry. The Clan said I was a Death Bride, so Pappy couldn’t marry me off. I don’t want something to happen to you—”

“Death Bride?” Cole snorted. “Casey, I already married you, and I’m still healthy.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t plan on dying for a long time.”

He heard a faint whisper of a sob. He hugged her close, knowing only two people had cared for her in all her life. He had his grandparents and his bothersome cousins. Though some days he wanted to sink his fist into them, they were still his family. He couldn’t imagine a life without them in it. Nor one without Casey, now. He closed his eyes, but the tears leaked through anyway. She looked up in silent question, her own eyes brimming.

“Lot of dust tonight,” he whispered.

He pulled her close and this time she responded, grasping his shirt. His silent tears joined hers, soaking his shirt. They stood there forever, just being. Until an excited yipping arose from downhill. Zeus.

“Already our loving is interrupted by little ones,” he said, pretending to grumble.

She laughed, as he hoped she would, and the solemn mood was broken. No, not broken. Changed, but still there. She knelt as Zeus ran up, so proud he’d tracked them. The dog didn’t so much as look at Cole. It licked Casey’s face and hands, tail wagging so fast he could barely see it in the evening light.

“Ah, Zeus,” he said, sighing like Marshall would. “Like every other male on the Sweetwater Ranch, you want Casey’s attention.”

If something happened to her, how could he live? He had to protect her, no matter what. Even if it meant she became angry at him.

“I hate to say this,” he said, “but you’re in danger, and I put you there.”

She set Zeus on the ground. When she stood up, she was alert, confident, and at ease. It was surprisingly arousing.

“I can take care of myself. I been doing it all my life. Don’t need you worrying about me.” She patted the hip that he knew held her knife.

But I need to take care of you. Every part of you, inside and out.
He bit back the words.

“Things are different now,” he said. “You’re not dressed as a boy. Anyone who saw you in your wedding gown knows how absolutely beautiful you are.” He nodded when she shook her head in denial. “One woman, no matter how good she is with a knife or rifle, can’t protect herself against armed, mounted men. Marshall, Byron, and I can only do so much. The fall gather will start in a few days. The whole valley will be in an uproar until every calf and cow is counted, branded, and sent on a one-way trip to Virginia City.”

She just blinked at him, frowning. He dropped his head back, groaning at her refusal to understand. When he looked at her again, he saw the steel that had kept her going all her life. He respected that, but she was in many ways still innocent to the depravities of men. He’d do anything to protect her.

“You’re in danger because you’re a virgin. That makes you a target for those wanting revenge. But if word spreads that our annulment is, ah, no longer possible, the danger to you might drop.”

Her eyes shot fire. Strange, but her fury aroused him as much as her desire. For better or worse, they were married. And the sooner he took care of her pesky virginity, the better. His cock jumped in eager agreement.

“So, you’ll divorce me in the spring, instead of that annul thing?” Her expression crumbled.

“Divorce? God, no! I want to keep you!” He looked deep into her eyes, putting everything he could into it. “Casey, I want you to be my wife. In all ways. Forever. Yes, it will make you safer, but that’s not the only reason. I want to make love with you.
You
, not just the woman who happens to be my wife. And when we do there won’t be a judge or lawyer in ten thousand miles who could take you from me.” He took another breath. “Unless you want to leave?”

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