This Loving Land (28 page)

“Sam and my pa were boyhood friends back in Scotland. They were close as brothers; closer than Sam was to his own brother, Scott. Sam came to Texas and filed a claim. Times were hard for my pa in Scotland, and Sam wrote for him to come to America. In the meanwhile, Pa had married. My ma was a gentle girl, and crossing the ocean to a new land was a frightful experience for her. The ship they sailed on landed in New Orleans, and from there they took a smaller boat to Corpus Christi. At that time, Corpus was just a frontier trading post and rougher than a cob. It still is, for that matter. Sam went down there to meet them, but before he arrived, my pa, a big brawny Scot, tried to break up a fight and a sailor stabbed him to death right before my mother’s eyes. She never recovered from the shock, never believed he was dead. When Sam got there, he saw there was but one thing for him to do. She was pregnant and alone. He married her and brought her back to the Keep, where I was born. No one knew I wasn’t Sam’s son. It was a long time after my mother died that Sam told me. He wanted me to know about my real pa. He showed me letters my mother had written to him over the years, believing he was still in Scotland and would come for her. Sam wouldn’t have made such a thing of keeping it a secret, but Scott, his brother, and Ellen held that McLean land went to blood McLeans. Sam said it was true in the old country, but this was a new land. There were never any papers to make me Sam’s legal son. You would have had to know him to understand how he depended on his own strength and ignored legal matters. I was his son in every way, except he hadn’t sired me. It mattered so little to me, that years went by and I never thought about it. It doesn’t matter now. Ellen and Travis are dead. The Keep will go on just as Sam planned.”

“He must have loved my mother,” Summer spoke quietly. “I know she loved him even though she loved my pa, too.”

“Yes, I think he did love Nannie. I can see that now. He was probably the only man that ever rejected Ellen, and her love for him turned to hate.” He closed her eyes with his lips. “I love you so much. . . .” he whispered. “I wanted to die when you left me.”

She kissed his neck, his chin, his rough cheek. His head bent and he desperately sought her lips with his. The kiss lasted a long time and was full of sweetness.

She whispered endearments and sighed his name.

“My darling summertime girl, the time went so slow. I waited and waited for you to come. I hungered for the feel of you. I need your love. Don’t leave me again.” His humbled voice vibrated with emotion.

“Don’t talk about it. Please . . . don’t talk about it,” she implored.

They lay for a long while, close and silent. The campfire burned until only a few glowing coals remained. If Bulldog or Jack came back to the camp they never knew it. Slater turned on his good side and lay with his head on her breast. His bandaged hand fumbled with the opening of her dress.

“Help me,” he whispered huskily.

With trembling fingers, she opened her bodice and pressed his cheek to the soft skin of her breast. His lips kissed the smooth flesh while she brushed the dark hair back from his face and pressed her mouth to his forehead. It was so good to hold him. So wonderful to have the heavy burden lifted from her heart.

Long habits of concern are hard to forget, and she asked softly, “John Austin? Is he all right?”

“Fine,” he murmured against her neck. “Kid has brains he hasn’t used yet.”

Laughter bubbled up inside her. She wanted to talk now. She wanted to tell him everything.

“Ellen said you could be hanged if anyone found out about us being together. She called it incest. I didn’t know what it meant.”

“She had it all figured out. True to form right up to the last.”

“Her only thoughts at the last were for Travis.” She shivered and tightened her arms protectingly. “It was terrible to see her lying there, dying, and talking about Sam and my mother.”

“Sam once said that Ellen was more devil than woman. I guess he knew what he was talking about.”

Summer raised up suddenly, and Slater rolled over onto his back. She leaned over him so she could see his face.

“Slater,” she said softly. Her fingers went over his lips, traced the scar that was familiar to them. “Slater, I’ve news to tell you. News that will make you understand why I had to leave you and why Jesse helped me.” She kissed his lips, his scarred cheek. Her eyes smiled into his. “We’ve got to see a preacher and get a ring on my finger before I get any bigger.” Her violet eyes searched his face. At first, there was nothing; then a smile that started at the corners of his lips spread into a broad grin. The forearm across her back gripped her tightly, and it was his turn to whisper.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive!” Her eyes devoured his face.

“Don’t that beat all?” He couldn’t seem to stop grinning. When the shock had passed, he put an arm behind her head to pull her to him. “Damn these hands! I want to touch you, feel you.”

Her laugh was a soft purr of pure happiness. “I’ll touch you, feel you.”

“We’ll stop in Hamilton, love. That preacher will have to come out to the wagon. I’m marrying you tomorrow!”

“I don’t have a new dress,” she teased.

“You don’t need one,” he growled. “Hush your talking, woman, and lay here beside me . . . close to me. God, how I’ve missed you!”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“You’ll hurt me a hell of a lot more if you don’t. Come kiss me some more, sweetheart. Come kiss me and tell me you love me.” He nudged her hand until it lay on his chest. “Touch me,” he whispered, his heartbeat quickening.

She tremblingly traced the powerful lines of his chest, being careful to avoid his wounds, aware of that fast, deep heartbeat, hearing it accelerate as her fingers stroked the short black hair curling from his brown skin. Leaning her face against him, she let her lips drift down his body, the taste of warm, moist skin on her tongue and in her mouth. His body quivered and she became aware of the movement of his thigh against her. The heat of their bodies had become explosive, and she stopped her stroking hands.

“Don’t stop!” His voice was muffled as his lips probed her warm white breast, and Summer felt herself shuddering as she faced a decision.

“We must! Darling, we must stop! Jack and . . . Bulldog. . . .”

For a moment, he lay still, breathing in rough gasps, his body seemed to shiver, then he drew back his head and smiled into her eyes. Wild, sweet hunger caused them to move together and their mouths clung in a long kiss. It was a while before either of them was calm enough to talk again.

“You’re sure there’s something there? Something of you and me?” Slater’s bandaged hand gently nudged her flat stomach.

She laughed. It was so wonderful to laugh.

“I’m sure. Of course I’m sure. A few days ago, I hated the poor little thing. Now, I love it.”

“Not more than me?” His lips were against her face, his tone anxious.

“Never more than you, darling.” She slipped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. “I adored you when I was a little girl and I still do. You’re my everything—my heart, my soul, my life. I love you beyond everything else in the world.”

His lips crushed hers hungrily. “I want to love you! Dear God, how I want to love you! These damn hands . . . it’ll be so long. . . .”

“Not so long, darling,” she whispered. “Only until tomorrow, when you fetch me home like you promised so long ago.” She punctuated her words with soft, nibbling kisses. “We’ll manage. You’ll see. We’ll manage just fine.”