Twice a Texas Bride (20 page)

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Authors: Linda Broday

BOOK: Twice a Texas Bride
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“Wren's mama is up in heaven with my mama?”

“Yes.”

“She's gonna be so sad when I tell her about her mama and that she had to go away for a long, long, long time. I bet she cries like me. Sometimes I cry when I'm sad.”

“It's good to cry.”

Brett spoke up in his quiet way. “Tears cleanse the soul and wash away the sadness. Never be ashamed of your tears, young Toby.”

Suddenly he wiggled out of Callie's arms. “Almost forgot.”

He reached under the sofa and pulled out something wrapped in one of his shirts. “This is for you, Aunt Callie. Uncle Brett showed me how to make it. Open it.”

First, Rand was the papa he'd chosen, and now Brett was his uncle. What next? She loved seeing how children put order in their lives.

She pulled away the fabric and sucked in her breath. Toby had fashioned a heart out of woven narrow strips of leather. A small blue feather dangled from the side. “It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I'll always treasure it. Thank you, sweet boy.” She kissed his forehead.

“He did all the work himself,” Brett said. “I only cut the strips and showed him what to do with them.”

“I messed up a little bit over here.” He pointed to the imperfection that made the gift even more precious to Callie.

“I'd never have noticed if you hadn't shown me. So this was what you and Uncle Brett were working on all day.”

“Yep. An' he's gonna teach me how to make stuff with pretty beads when he gets to go home for them.”

Callie couldn't trust herself to speak. She'd had two very unexpected, wonderful gifts on a day when her heart was heaviest.

Life was full of surprises. And so much love, it spilled out all over the place.

Twenty

Rand rode in before dark two days later. He couldn't wait to see Callie. She must've been watching from the window, because she flew from the house.

With a leap, he dismounted and swung her around. “You're a sight for sore eyes, woman.”

“I was so worried about you, Rand, afraid I might never see you again.” Her voice was breathless and quivery as if she held back tears.

“Just try getting rid of me.” Setting her on her feet, he held her so close, he could feel the wild beating of her heart. “For two cents, I'd kiss the daylights out of you right here. I've missed our nightly ritual.”

He lowered his head, but before he could press his lips to hers, Toby raced from the house.

“Mr. Rand, you're home.” The boy launched himself at Rand and hugged him around the waist while Biscuit barked and jumped. Rand handed him the wooden top he'd carved. “Oh boy. Just what I wanted.”

Then Brett came out holding little Wren and was joined by Cooper's men. With a ragged sigh, Rand decided kissing his wife would have to wait.

He told the ranch hands that Cooper had ridden on home and wanted them to meet him there. They hurried to the corral to get their mounts and saddled up, ready to get back to their own bunks.

Later, over plates of beans, potatoes, and ham, Rand told his family about the chase to capture Fleming. “He slipped through our fingers. Not sure how. Best we can figure, he got off the train somewhere between that water station and Mexia.”

“He won't get far walking,” Brett said.

Rand put down his fork. “I doubt he'll be afoot for long. I won't let down my guard.” He turned his attention to Toby. “Anything new happen around here while I was gone?”

“Uncle Brett showed me how to make things an' we played lotsa games. He's real smart.”


Uncle
now, is it?” Rand teased.

One of Brett's rare smiles formed. “Apparently.”

Callie rose and came back with a hot peach pie. “I think it's nice, and Toby needs all the family he can get.”

“Won't get any argument out of me. That pie sure smells good. Can't wait to get some in my mouth. I'd crawl through a patch of thorny thistles on my belly for one of your pies. Heck, I'd do it for anything you cook, darlin'.” Rand loved the rosy glow that colored her cheeks. Staring into her warm, whiskey-colored eyes, he boldly winked.

That made her all flustered. He loved that too, the fact that he could get her in a fine dither.

His hand brushed hers when he took the piece of pie she cut. He'd never been struck by lightning, but he was sure it felt similar. Lord, he'd like to sweep her into his arms and carry her up to bed.

Heat crawled from Rand's belly as he attempted to keep his thoughts on the conversation. During a lull, he glanced at the clock and swore the hands hadn't moved since he sat down at the table. Time was creeping like cold molasses.

* * *

While Rand and Brett talked low in the parlor after supper, Callie knitted. They'd already put the children to bed, so she had ample time to watch her husband. She couldn't put her finger on it exactly, but something about him had changed.

Or maybe…

Was it she who was different?

She was mesmerized by Rand's long, slender fingers as he motioned with his hands when he spoke. It wasn't hard to imagine them caressing her body.

Delicious excitement swept the length of her. The only one who'd attempted such intimacy with her had been Richard Farrington that night so long ago, and he'd failed miserably. Richard had been nothing but a clumsy boy.

Rand Sinclair, on the other hand, was all man.

A very virile, desirable man.

He knew exactly how to make her feel like a woman, treasured and valued. The night before he left, he'd kissed her, then his fingers had moved over the curve of her breast as though memorizing every inch beneath her bodice.

Dear Lord, how would his hands on her bare skin feel?

Was it wrong to want to be touched yet refuse to make love? Didn't one thing lead to the other? No, she decided. She could welcome Rand's warm touches, knowing that he wouldn't take advantage. He had too much honor to go back on his word.

Besides, the caresses made her melt. Each time he ran his fingers over her, she glowed inside like a million twinkling stars.

It was uncanny how he seemed to read her thoughts. He stopped midsentence and met her gaze. Then his grin crinkled the lines at the corners of his sky-blue eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat. One of her knitting needles fell from her slack fingers onto the floor. Her face grew hot as she quickly retrieved it. What an imbecile.

The note she'd left on his pillow waited upstairs. What would he think when he read it? She groaned. Whatever had she been thinking? He'd probably take it as a sign that she wanted to consummate their marriage.

Her pulse raced. Did she?

Yes. But then her old fears rose, and she knew she couldn't.

If only she could forget the horrible darkness of that time and instead focus on the happiness inside the wild beating of her heart.

Before she could argue with herself any further, she flung aside her ball of yarn and knitting needles. She had time to run upstairs and get the note. Yes, that's what she needed to do. Before it was too late. Before he saw the words she'd written.

Your
kisses
each
night
make
my
heart
soar. When I close my eyes, I dream of you.

She'd said too much, given away her feelings for him.

Rand's stare made her flush. “Brett, my wife seems to be signaling that it's time to turn in. We can finish our discussion tomorrow.”

Then Brett looked at her too with a knowing glint in his dark eyes and got to his feet. “Yes, it's been a long day for everyone. Since you're back, I'll be moseying on after breakfast. Need to check on my horses and do a few things. Good night.”

“Why don't you sleep on the sofa? It'd be a lot more comfortable,” Rand said.

Brett shook his head and grunted. “I'll take young Toby's tepee. Don't want to get too soft. I don't rest unless I can breathe the night air and smell the ground beneath me.”

“Well, suit yourself.” Rand stood and turned to Callie. “I'll lock up behind him. Don't go upstairs yet.”

She nodded and stuffed her knitting back inside a cloth bag she kept beside her chair. Tingles danced up her spine. A few more minutes and his lips would be on hers.

Good heavens, one would think she was a schoolgirl, not a twenty-six-year-old woman.

With her thoughts in a tizzy, she moved across to the oil lamp. Blowing it out, she went to wait at the bottom of the stairs.

Before she knew it, Rand's arm slid around her waist and he murmured in her ear. “I have counted the minutes until bedtime. Thought it would never get here. Are you ready?”

“Yes. Wren will awaken wanting fed before long.”

He guided her up to the second floor. Outside her door, he tugged her tightly against his chest. Her pulse quickened with some ancient, undeniable hunger.

“I hope you're not in a hurry, because I intend to catch up on things. By my count, I owe you a whole passel of kisses. You're all I thought about while I was gone.”

“I don't—”

“I do. Tonight I intend to exercise my rights within the guidelines you laid out.”

Callie relaxed and leaned into the solid wall of his chest, letting her soft curves mold to the contours of his lean body. His rugged look, framed by the shadows, spoke of danger, but she wasn't afraid of the man she'd married.

She ran her fingers lightly across a firm jaw that sported three days' worth of growth. “I missed you. I missed this. I'm glad you're back.”

“That makes two of us,” he growled, his breath softly fanning her face.

Lowering his mouth, he slanted a kiss across her lips lightly at first, then allowed it to deepen with raw urgency until she could barely breathe. Or think. Or hear above the pounding of her heart. She wanted nothing more than to feel his lips and his hands touching her.

Sliding her hand beneath the soft hair at the nape of his neck, she parted her mouth slightly. When his tongue dipped inside, she faintly tasted peaches. She'd never felt so much need well up inside. She needed Rand like she'd never needed anything. How could she have lived this long without him?

A second later, he removed his mouth from hers and murmured, “You drive me crazy, woman. Would you mind if I unfasten some buttons of your dress?”

“How many?” What a dumb question, but her brain had deserted her. The tingles doing backflips and twirls up and down her spine had made forming coherent thought impossible.

“Three. Or four. You have so many.” He flashed a fleeting grin. “I have the greatest desire to feel my wife's skin. Will you welcome me?”

“Yes,” she managed to whisper.

The air was cool on her flesh as he undid the four buttons she'd allotted. But he didn't stop. She covered his hand with hers. “You said four, and that's what I agreed to.”

“I never was much good at arithmetic.” He took her hand and kissed each of her fingertips.

She surprised herself when she moved his hands back into place so he could resume. She wanted this man who would risk his life to protect her from all harm. Desire flowed in her veins.

By the time he finished, her dress lay open to the waist. Even the middle of summer wasn't this sultry and hot. He pushed aside the fabric and untied her chemise.

He first stroked the swell above her breasts before moving lower to touch the rigid peaks of her nipples. He brushed them before taking one between his thumb and forefinger. She gasped with unexpected pleasure as heat raced from her stomach along each nerve ending.

If he hadn't supported her, she'd have gone to her knees. Unable to do more than sag limply against him, she gripped the front of his shirt and surrendered to the press of his kiss to the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat.

Delicious quivers swept over her in waves, each one more powerful than the last.

His ragged breath ruffled the hair at her temple. “You are so beautiful. You captivated me the moment I saw you hiding in that old run-down bunkhouse. Thank you for taking pity on a lonely old bachelor. Our marriage saved me.”

“We seem to be bound by something larger than physical desire,” she agreed. “After seventeen years, I've truly found a place to belong. A home.”

“Me too.”

Before she could mention the note he'd left in the tea tin and her reply, Rand's lips hungrily found hers again. The searing kiss sent spirals of pleasure into every secret corner of her being. It seemed as though the heat of a raging fire burned within her, rendering her incapable of logic. An achy yearning spread.

She didn't know how many times he kissed her. She lost count the moment his lips had first touched hers. Time and space ceased to exist, and it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She wanted to stay in Rand's arms forever.

He'd woven some sort of spell over her, one that had made her totally lose herself in him. She was nothing but liquid bone and muscle.

And her soul was finally at peace.

* * *

Rand thought he'd gone over a cliff, the way his stomach pitched. His heart hammered in his ears as waves of excitement raced through him. He nuzzled Callie's slender neck, traced the curve of her jaw, buoyed by her reception of his caresses.

Her fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, and once she'd released them, she laid her small hand on the hard plane of his chest.

Overcome by the pleasure of her shy touch, he bent to kiss her breast, taking the peak into his mouth. He tried to slow down, but the rising heat from below flooded his head, driving him. Still, he forced himself to stop, to ask the question he knew he should.

Taking a ragged breath, Rand murmured in her ear, “Do you want more, Callie? All you have to do is say the word.”

“I…can't. Not yet.”

“Then we'd best end this here before I forget that I'm a gentleman. Temptation is a two-edged sword.” He helped her button her dress, then watched helplessly as she slipped into her room, shutting the door behind her.

On unsteady legs, Rand turned and moved to his bed as though in a trance. He'd gone too far tonight; he knew that. But, damn, he wanted her. She was in his blood, his thoughts, and had taken up residence in his heart. It was sheer torture living in the same house and not being able to show her how much she meant to him.

Where was this all going to lead? Somewhere or nowhere?

A scrap of paper resting on his pillow seemed odd. He picked it up, held it to the light, and read the words Callie had written.

Your kisses each night make my heart soar. When I close my eyes, I dream of you. Never stop kissing me.

He hadn't imagined her softening. It was real, and the note confirmed it.

They had to talk. He stalked across the hall and stood before her door. But his honor wouldn't let him turn the knob. He would never force her to admit her feelings. She had to reach the reality herself.

He pressed his hand against the smooth wood.

* * *

A sob caught in Callie's throat as she leaned against the door. Dear God, she wanted to take everything Rand had offered. The mass of feelings stirring in her heart for this good, kind man had her living for a glimpse of his sinful grin. He could do things to her body that awakened each nerve ending, made her stomach whirl and dip, and had her dreaming of sleeping beside him. Not that they'd likely get much slumber. She envisioned running her hands over his bare arms and chest, then lower, leaving a trail of kisses in her wake.

With tears lurking behind her hot eyelids, she touched her swollen lips, remembering every detail of this special night.

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