The Independent Bride (21 page)

Horrified at the changes this kiss had wrought in her, Abby tore herself loose from Bryce’s embrace. “Stop!” It was practically a cry for help.

“Did I hurt you?” Bryce asked, apparently surprised by her reaction.

Abby hardly knew how to answer. Could it be called hurt when you turned a woman’s personality inside out so abruptly she felt a stranger to her own self? Could it be called hurt when it felt as if she’d betrayed everything she believed about herself?

“I guess I haven’t been in the West long enough, but I can’t accept being kissed by a stranger.”

Bryce laughed. “Surely you don’t consider me a stranger.”

“And I don’t see how you can respect me when I can’t respect myself.”

“You are a beautiful woman, and you deserve to be kissed. I was only giving you your due.”

Abby refused to let herself consider what he said. She was still reeling from the discovery that she was an entirely different person from the one she’d thought she was all her life.

“If you were my husband, that would be an acceptable remark. Since you are not, and since I have no intention of acquiring a husband, I would prefer you not think like that.”

“I can control what I do but not my thoughts.”

Abby was quickly discovering the same truth. Lightning had struck and shattered a tree only a few yards from where she stood. She was standing under a tree that dripped water on her head. The creek had flooded its banks and stranded her on this small bluff, yet all she could think of was the feel of Bryce’s lips and the desire to have him kiss her again. Telling herself that she
shouldn’t
want that, that she shouldn’t even be
thinking
about it did absolutely no good. Her body yearned for his touch. She practically had to grip the tree to keep from pushing herself against him.

“Controlling your actions is enough,” Abby said. “Please don’t kiss me again.”

“Didn’t you enjoy it?”

Yes! She’d enjoyed it so much she couldn’t think of anything else.

“It’s not a question of enjoyment,” she said, trying her best to appear as calm as possible. “It’s not something I should do. It’s not something I want to do.”

Liar! At least be honest with yourself.

All right, she did want to do it again, but she wouldn’t let herself.

“I enjoyed it,” Bryce said.

“Men always enjoy things like that.”

“Why shouldn’t women also?”

She didn’t have a good answer for that. Her aunt had said a wife should try to meet a man’s needs, but that she couldn’t expect to understand them, that it was something beyond the understanding of most women. Now Abby wondered why that should be so. She couldn’t speak for any other woman, but her need was certainly greater than she had imagined. And she understood it too well for her comfort.

“I wouldn’t have thought that was possible until just now,” Abby said.

“Why do you say that?”

She must be rattled to have made such an admission. She certainly couldn’t tell him that his kiss had turned her into a wanton. Maybe that was too strong, but she felt as if she wanted to
be
a wanton. At this moment it seemed the most desirable thing on earth. Abby struggled to control this previously unknown side of herself. She would not allow an act that lasted barely half a minute to wipe away the training and decisions of twenty-four years.

“Several men came calling once I passed my seventeenth birthday, but I only allowed one to kiss me. He never held me the way you did, the way you’re still doing.”

“He must have been a very tepid fellow. You’re better off without him.”

“He was a liar and a thief.”

“Then you’re definitely better off without him.”

“Albert wanted to marry me. You don’t.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t kiss again if we want to.”

She could feel his arms tighten around her. At the same time she could feel the desire, the
need,
to be kissed filling her up as the thunderstorm had filled the creek, full to overflowing. It did no good to deny it existed. That just caused it to grow stronger. She had a better chance of controlling it if she admitted this was a need that she’d harbored unknown for many years, but a need she would fulfill only when she found the right man.
If
she found the right man. Until then, she would keep her distance.

The problem was that Bryce apparently saw no reason why, since he wasn’t married, he shouldn’t kiss any woman he wanted.

“I don’t want to,” she said.

She didn’t have to tell herself she was lying.

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “I can see it in your eyes, feel it in the warmth and tension of your body. Can you deny that you liked it when I kissed you?”

No. She could do many things, but she couldn’t do that.

“I was taught it’s not wise to give in to temptation just because it’s pleasurable.”

“So was I, but I’ve since learned that pleasure is one of the best reasons to give in.”

Bryce didn’t give her a chance to come up with a rebuttal before he kissed her again.

She tried to feel shocked, violated, insulted, surprised—anything that would allow her to break the kiss and push him away—but nothing worked. Instead she found herself responding to his kiss, rising on her tiptoes to meet him. For a moment she felt no shame, no reluctance, only the need to sink as far into the kiss as she could, to bury herself in the feeling that she was surrounded, embraced, supported, protected by a power that would keep her safe from all danger and heartbreak.

This time it was Bryce who broke the kiss. It made her feel much better to see he didn’t look so unaffected this time.

“I admit I enjoyed it,” she said.

He seemed to come slowly out of a trance. “I did, too.” He sounded surprised.

“However, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t kiss me again.” She ruthlessly stifled the voice inside that screamed in protest. “I don’t feel comfortable.”

“There’s nothing to feel uncomfortable about,” Bryce said. “There’s nothing wrong with an occasional kiss between two single people who find each other attractive.”

Maybe not for him, but the stakes were higher for her. She had discovered a side of herself that was alien. She didn’t know if it was real—if it was, why had it remained hidden for so long?—or if it was the outcome of the immediate circumstances. She might be lacking in experience with men, but she knew about the powerful force that pulled men and women together. She just hadn’t realized that force lay buried inside her.

“How soon can we start back?” Abby asked. There was nothing more to say about the kiss. She couldn’t forget it, but neither would she accept its being the natural thing for her to do. There was no assurance that lust wouldn’t turn into emotion, and that would lead to misunderstandings and hurt “It shouldn’t be much longer. I don’t like to drive through floodwater. You never know when a tree branch might be swept into your path.”

Abby looked to where lightning had destroyed the Cottonwood. A small amount of debris remained on the bluff, but the rest had been swept away by the flood-waters.

“I guess I have a lot to learn about the West,” she said aloud. And if Bryce’s kiss was any example, not all of it would be unpleasant.

“I wish I’d gotten caught in the storm,” Pamela said that evening after her father had regaled her and Moriah with an edited version of the trip home. “Nothing exciting ever happens here.”

“You could have had my place,” Abby said. “I can’t tell you how frightened I was when lightning struck that. tree. I was sure I was going to be killed.”

“Daddy wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you,” Pamela said, looking at her father with a childish certainty he could fix anything in her world. “He never lets anything bad happen to people he likes.”

“Then he must be a very busy man,” Abby said, determined not to blush. “He told me he likes everyone at the fort.”

“I didn’t mean like that,” Pamela said. “I meant—”

“I appreciate your confidence in me,” Bryce said to his daughter, “but as I’ve told you before, the best way to fix trouble is to avoid it in the first place.”

Abby could tell from Pamela’s disgusted expression that she’d heard that piece of advice too often for her pleasure.

“I would probably have fainted,” Moriah said.

“Bryce probably wished I had fainted,” Abby said. “Then he could have left me in the buggy and had the rain slicker all to himself.”

“I would have jumped on Daddy’s horse and raced home,” Pamela said, her eyes wide with excitement.

“And been pelted into unconsciousness by two inches of hail,” her father said, ruthlessly shattering her image of a heroic ride across the plain with everyone in the fort watching in terror, certain she would be caught but bursting into loud cheers when she dashed into the fort just seconds ahead of a lightning bolt that shattered the gate just after she passed through it.

Abby smiled, because she’d had dreams like that when she was growing up, dreams of what wondrous deeds she’d accomplish when her father sent for her to join him in the wild, uncivilized country he called the West.

But her father had never sent for her. Her dreams had faded and she’d taken a job in a bank. Her dreams changed to visions of success that would attract the attention of a handsome manager who would save her from drudgery by a brilliant promotion only she could handle. That dream had turned into a hope for a perfect marriage with Albert. That hope had died in the ashes left by the conflagration of his betrayal. Sadly, it took her father’s death to make possible her childhood dream of going West.

“I would not have been pelted into unconsciousness,” Pamela declared. “I’d have put on your helmet.”

Bryce was kind enough not to point out that he hadn’t taken his helmet with him.

“It was really uncomfortable,” Abby said to Pamela. “You wouldn’t have liked it at all.”

“I don’t care if it was uncomfortable,” Pamela declared. “Anything would be better than sitting around here listening to Sarah’s momma talk about some dance she’s planning. We didn’t even get wet.”

Abby had found it hard to believe the storm had completely bypassed the fort. It had looked big enough to engulf the whole prairie.

“What did you learn from the stores you visited?” Moriah asked Abby.

“Not much, but I have a better idea of what we need to order. Now that I’ve paid off our creditors, we can replenish our stock. Once we get the money from the next beef shipment, we can order the full line of goods we intend to keep on hand.”

They were interrupted by Zeb coming into the room. He approached the colonel and said something so softly Abby couldn’t hear it. She could tell from his expression it wasn’t good news.

“You’d better tell the ladies,” Bryce said. “It’s rightly their business.”

“What is it?” Abby asked Zeb.

“It’s the ranchers you wanted to ask about selling beef to the Indians,” Zeb said.

“I hope they all didn’t offer to sell. I don’t know how I’d decide which to buy from first.”

“That won’t be a problem because none of them will sell to you.”

Chapter Thirteen

“There were fourteen names on the list,” Abby said, unable to believe her ears. “Did the soldiers ask everyone?”

“If you want, I can bring one of them in and you can ask him yourself.”

“That would be a good idea,” Bryce said. Zeb quickly left the room.

Bryce had said it was out of the question for Abby to ride over half the territory by herself. He had sent two soldiers to speak to the ranchers for her. She had been certain she’d have more offers than she could accept.

“I don’t understand,” Abby said to Bryce. “Did Baucom have trouble getting people to sell to him?”

“The herds were usually attacked, but enough cattle always managed to get through to keep things from turning ugly.”

“Who paid for the cows that were lost?”

“I assume the ranchers absorbed the loss. You can understand why they don’t want to lose cattle plus get their men shot up.”

Abby didn’t have any idea how, but she was certain Hinson had somehow managed to profit from the ranchers’ trouble.

“These ladies would like a report on your efforts,” Bryce said to the young soldier who entered the room in Zeb’s wake.

“Me and Frank—that’s Private Sturgess, ma’am—we went to every ranch on the list. Some of them was right far way. I thought accommodations here at the fort was pretty bad, but you wouldn’t believe what some people live like. Mud and sticks is what I seen in some places. Bugs, too. Why in one place—”

“The ladies don’t want a discussion of living conditions,” Bryce told the young man. “Confine your report to what the ranchers told you.”

“Yes, sir!” the soldier said, obviously disappointed at being unable to relate what he thought was much more interesting information. “Everybody me and Frank asked said they wasn’t driving any beef to the Indian reservation. They said you wasn’t paying them enough to take that kind of risk. A bunch of them has been shot up these last two months and don’t want no part of it.”