The Brides Of Tombstone 01 Mail Order Outlaw (9 page)

Lizzie jerked her head around and stared at Mal. “That’s an old saying. Where did you hear it?” She thought it was just a saying in the west and was surprised when Mal said it.

“Uh…a passenger on the stagecoach said it when we stopped at one of the way stations.”

“Oh, well that makes sense. I didn’t think it would be something you would have heard in San Francisco.”

“You’re right. No one there would have said something like that, except maybe some old sourdough from the gold fields.”

“What does that mean ‘some old sourdough’?”

“The old miners are called sourdoughs because that’s the kind of bread they made. It would last longer than regular bread before getting moldy.”

“Tell me more about your life in the city.”

“After dinner. Let’s get washed up.” He pointed to the basins on the long table on the porch outside the kitchen door. “I see that Atina is about to call everyone in.”

She turned and looked.

Sure enough Atina took the rod attached to the triangle with a string and ran it around the inside of the instrument several times. At the same time she shouted, “Supper’s on. Come and get it.”

Why she bothered to shout, Lizzie didn’t know because no one could hear her over the noise the triangle made.

“Let’s not say anything about buying the Abernathy place yet. We’ll wait until after the deed is done.” Lizzie rolled up her shirt sleeves, and then soaped up her hands and forearms before rinsing them in the hot water in the basin. “Then we’ll ask if some of the men want to come to work for us. I think that most will want to stay but we can ask.”

“What about running this ranch?” Frowning, Mal washed, too, then dried, sharing his towel with Lizzie. “We can’t just up and leave Atina and Jamie, high and dry.”

“We’re not leaving them high and dry.” She turned to him, hands on her hips. “How could you think I would do that? I propose that we split our time between the ranches for a little while. Boyd Dinkens is perfectly capable of running this ranch without me.”

“Well, if we did that, we could see to anything that needs repair. I understand the house has been vacant for some time.”

“Only about six months, but Mr. Abernathy didn’t have the heart to keep it up after the missus passed on a year ago. The situation was so sad. They’d been married for nearly fifty years. Married when they were just kids, sixteen and eighteen.”

“Then I suggest that we plan on spending a couple of weeks over there. As a matter of fact, do you want to ride over and see it today or tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Lizzie nodded. She liked the idea of spending more time alone with Mal. Maybe he’d teach her more about making love. “We can go this afternoon for a few hours. It’s only a few of miles from here, about a fifteen minute ride.”

Later that day, Lizzie left Boyd in charge and she took Mal over to the Abernathy place. The house looked to be in good shape.

Lizzie loved this house. The place was her dream home, if truth be known. It looked like a mansion on a southern plantation. She’d seen pictures of one in a book at the mercantile. She and Sally had drooled over the book’s gorgeous drawings. The house had two-story columns in front, behind which stood eight-foot wide porch. Mrs. Abernathy had called it the veranda. They’d planted a couple of trees when they first came out and the tree provided much-needed shade.

Mrs. Abernathy, known to Lizzie as Miz Jenny, always kept a table and chairs out here to entertain guests on the late summer afternoons. The balcony overhead provided more shade as well as protection from the weather.

Lizzie could picture herself and Mal sitting out here after supper, maybe in a swing he’d hang for them to share. They’d discuss the day and watch the sun set. He’d wrap his arm around her and hold her close while she leaned her head on his shoulder.

She pulled to a halt in front of the picket fence where a hitching rail stood.

Mal followed her lead and didn’t dismount right away but sat and looked at the house.

“What do you think? Could you live here?” she asked, without looking away from the house.

“It’s a fine house and I’d love to live here…” He looked over at her. “If it’s with you.”

Lizzie smiled, crossed her forearms and leaned down on the saddle horn. “I wouldn’t have told you about the place now if I didn’t plan on living here with you. I wouldn’t even have told you about it being for sale. I planned on buying it myself. I had half the asking price saved up and was going to ask Mr. Abernathy to carry the note for the rest. I think he might have, too.”

“He would have. Your beautiful face is hard to resist. You wouldn’t happen to have a key, now would you?”

“Actually, I do. Mr. Abernathy left it with us so we could check on it now and then when we’re over this way.”

Mal dismounted and tied Satan to the hitching rail. She did the same with Ajax. Mal held open the gate in the picket fence for her. There was a red flagstone path with flowers growing wild on either side of it. She saw where they had been well tended at one time, all in a perfect row lining the walkway. Together they walked up the four steps to the porch.

The Abernathy’s came to the Arizona Territory in 1860 before the start of the Civil War. Sold everything, packed up, and left Georgia before it had entered the fray. But, he built the house like the one they’d left.

Miz Jenny said it was just like living back home and made the move much easier for her to take. She hadn’t wanted to leave their home, but the mister insisted.

Lizzie fit the key in the lock, turned, pushed open the door and went inside. They stood in a great, large foyer. A grand staircase with banisters on both sides was directly in front of them. Long halls with several doors were on each side of the stairs. The halls were covered in Persian-patterned carpet that muffled the sound of their boots as they walked down the hall to the left of the stairs.

“Wait until you see this place. A lot of the furniture has been left and it’s beautiful. I’m sure you had to pay extra for the furnishings.”

“I did, but that’s all right. I would have had to buy furniture somewhere.”

“What Mr. Abernathy left is all covered in white sheets. He had to leave it because he had no where to put it in his new home in Denver. He went to live with his eldest daughter and her family.”

The first door they opened was a parlor. They could tell that a settee, two chairs, and numerous tables were under the sheets. Next was a card room with two square tables with four chairs each. The last door on that side was the dining room complete with a long table and ten chairs.

“Are you sure all this furniture is included, I mean look at it.” Lizzie opened her arms wide. “There’s everything we’ll need and more besides.”

“I’m sure.” Mal grinned. “There’s an extra five hundred dollars in the price for furnishings. Let’s go see the rest of the house and see if you’re right and we won’t need to buy anything.”

Behind the stairs was the kitchen. All the furnishings were left here as well. Lizzie was beginning to think the owner hadn’t taken anything. There were the normal counters with cupboards over and under and a sink with a pump on it in the middle of the counter. At the end was a good sized icebox. The floor here was hardwood, oak probably, and their boots sounded loud after being muted by the carpet in the other rooms. There was also a table in here that was not covered. It was wooden and a good ten feet long with benches on the sides and captain’s chairs at both ends.

Lizzie was thrilled. She was used to eating meals with her employees and didn’t see any reason to change that now.

The kitchen had three doors. One led to the porch outside. There with the table for the cowhands to wash before meals with the basins still on it. The next door was the pantry and the third was an empty bedroom for the cook.

They went back out to the foyer and down the hall on the right side of the stairs. This one was also carpeted in the same material as the other hall and was covered with dust, as the other hall had been. It would need a good sweeping, maybe two or three, to get it all out. Along this hall, there were only two doors the first was for a large library complete with books and a desk. The second room was empty and Lizzie thought she remembered it had been a store-room.

“I was right. We won’t have to buy hardly any furniture.” Lizzie grinned and hugged Mal’s side. “This is wonderful.”

“There’s still the upstairs. Surely, he took his bed. We’ll have to buy one of those.”

“Yes.” She quickly looked at the toes of her boots. “A bed.”

Mal laughed. “Yes, a bed. We have to have somewhere to sleep and I do intend to sleep with my wife.”

“Of course.” Her cheeks burned and her stomach tumbled over on itself. She hugged herself around the middle. “I…uh…I’ve never slept with anyone before.”

“A fact,” he chuckled, “that I’m pleased to hear.”

Lizzie found herself more embarrassed. “Don’t make fun of me.”

At the top of the stairs, Mal stopped their progress. “I’m not making fun of you. I’m
very
glad you haven’t slept with anyone else, but even if you had, that wouldn’t change my mind about marrying you.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her close. Then he lowered his head and kissed her hard.

She slid her arms up his chest and around his neck, returning his kiss with her own fierceness. Lizzie liked kissing Mal, and she liked when he touched her even more. His hands tugged the shirt and chemise out of the back and sides of her pants. He put his hands on her waist and then reached between them, touching her stomach. She’d shivered and would have begged him for more but didn’t want to take her lips from his.

Finally she had to. To breathe. “Mal.”

“Lizzie,” he groaned, his breathing just as labored as hers was.

She was glad to see he was as affected by their kisses as she. “I’ve never felt like this before. I want more”

“Come with me. Let’s see what we have up here.” He led the way to the first of the six doors along the hall and opened it. The room had probably been for a girl. The walls were painted pink, and had paintings of horses on them in white paint.

Across from that was another empty room. The third had a double bed with a sheet draped over it and the foot-board.

“This is it.” He took her in his arms and kissed her, walking her backwards as he did so. When she bumped against the bed he stopped walking, but not kissing her. He pressed her backwards and when she fell on to the bed, he followed.

“Oh,” the small sound issued forth as she hit the bed. Then his lips were on hers again.

He held himself up with his arms so he didn’t crush her, but his lips never left her once they hit the bed. He kissed her behind the ear and down her neck. She loved it when he did that. She got shivers all through her, and her stomach felt like a thousand butterflies were flying around. But her real feelings were centered lower in her lady parts. She had an itch she couldn’t scratch…but Mal could.

“Make love to me, Mal. I want to. Now.”

He straightened his arms and looked down. “You are so damn beautiful. I can’t believe you’ll be my wife. But I want to wait to make you all mine on our wedding night, so we’d better move the day up to as soon as possible.”

Her breath caught. “But—”

“Not until we’re married. I haven’t done a lot of good things in my life, but I’m waiting to make you my wife. I’m doing it right. But, I can help you now, without taking your virginity. Unbutton your pants and shirt for me, chemise and bloomers, too. I want to see you.”

She did as he said. Embarrassment warred with her desire to know more. “I’m not clean. I’ve been working all day like you.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re beautiful.”

His words eased her.

“Now what?”

He bent his arms and came down beside her, supporting himself on one elbow. The other hand he used to work circles on her stomach, and then up around each of her breasts, where he tweaked her nipples then moved down to her mons and the bud it hid. He pressed his palm to her while his fingers probed even lower.

“Ah, ah,” she sucked in air as his fingers found her slit, hot and wet, and entered, first one and then two. He pulled them in and out of her all the while pressing hard on her mons.

Every feeling she had concentrated on her groin and his magic fingers. Then he pulled his fingers out of her and began rubbing her little nub.

“Mal, please!” She gulped for air and squirmed, trying to get his fingers to give her the relief she sought.

“Here, feel me here.” He flicked her little bud, soothed it, and flicked it again.

“Yes, oh, God, yes.” She shattered, bucking at him

But Mal’s fingers didn’t stop. He stayed with her, rode her down, eased her.

“There you go, sweetheart.”

When she caught her breath, she opened her eyes and saw him smiling at her.

“Feel better?”

“Better doesn’t even begin to describe what I feel, what I felt. Is that part of making love?”

He soothed her, smoothing his hand over her mound and up to her stomach. Moving deliberately slow, he circled her breasts, bent and suckled one, rose and smiled.

“Yes, that’s part of making love. You are so beautiful. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”