Unbroken Hearts (30 page)

    
"These buttons are a blessing and a
curse," he whispered with a short laugh.

    
"Oh?"

    
Cal sighed at the memory. "Darlin',
you took me to paradise the evening of the social. I'll never forget it."
He pulled up closer, wrapped his arms around her hips, and grazed his lips
across the back of her neck. "But now I'm an eager groom. I'd like nothing
better than to rip them off." He stepped back. She shivered as she felt
his fingers work their way down her back, brushing along her spine as they
briskly moved from one button to the next.

    
Her lips turned up at the corners.
"I'm so glad you still want me."

    
"Sweetheart, I'm gonna want you every
day I'm this side of the sod." To make sure she understood he groaned and
pulled her into him. She felt his hardness press into her backside.

    
Buttons finally unhooked, Cal tugged the
smooth fabric from her shoulders, down her arms. Gently he turned her again to
face him, pulled the dress below her hips, and it slowly slid to the floor,
into a heaping lavender pool. Removing her camisole he openly admired her
smooth white skin, bathed in the hues of the setting sun filtered through
yellow curtains.
 

    
He took Sarah's hands and laid them on his
chest in a silent request. He wanted his bride to undress him, and she
understood. Her fingers shook with sweet anticipation as they worked the
buttons on his starched white shirt. She opened it wide, inhaled deeply of his
manly scent.
 
Sarah pressed her
cheek to his broad chest while gently stroking his sides. Then she slid her ear
to the place over his heart and quietly thrilled to the beat of her love.
 

    
Cal stroked her throat, her shoulders, and
her breasts, until she arched into him in pleading surrender. His fingers
grazed lower, parting, caressing her hot, wet, swollen womanhood. Strong arms
supported her when knees buckled, and she gripped his broad shoulders, her
anchors in the growing storm of passion.

    
"Cal."
 
She begged.

    
He groaned.

    
All control was lost. Suddenly they were
at a full gallop, a frenzy of caressing and tasting, and then he carried her to
the bed, where they laid naked together, her hands entwined in his dark hair,
her lips ordering the sweet drink of his kiss. They mated swiftly, two bodies
urgently and recklessly seeking and finding release from pounding need.

    
After the long minutes it took to recover
Cal hauled her from the bed, and over her muted protests, he carried her
outside, and down the bank to his favorite spot on the creek.
 

    
"Been thinking to do this for a
week."

    
"Do what?"

    
He didn't need to answer her, because just
then she saw the towels carefully laid along the creek bank. Still gripping her
tightly to his chest, Cal splashed into the clear water. Sarah screamed and
laughed at the cold awakening. The newlyweds clung to each other and slid body
against smooth body, each taking a turn at gleefully exploring the other with
hands that slid freely over water-slicked flesh.

 
   
Cal's amorous attentions
aroused Sarah again. Mercifully, he took her in his arms and laid her on towels
spread over the grassy bank. Firm lips grazed over her, stopping to nibble at
the stiff peaks of her breasts, moving slowly down until they met the aching
nub between her thighs. His suckle ignited a shattering explosion that ripped
through her. She rode tidal waves of pleasure. Then he drew back, positioned
himself between her thighs, and entered her with one hard thrust.

    
Their lovemaking was slower, and softer
this time, like a long sweet ride together into a red sunset as it dipped below
the horizon.
 

    
Throughout that first night Sarah boldly
explored her groom and discovered her own deep wells of passion. He took her
sweetly, lingering over her pleasure, and then with wild abandon when she woke
and bucked urgently against his taut body.
 

   
Soft caresses and whispered love flowed as pure and unadulterated as the
creek. They gave themselves over to each other completely, freely, guilelessly.
Finally, in the early morning hours, the newlyweds collapsed in the honeymoon
bed of that cozy cabin and slept, exhausted and content.

Chapter 28

   
After Cal and Sarah returned to the big ranch house their lives quickly
settled into a busy and happy routine. Days raced by, begun with work and
ending each night with passionate lovemaking, a wrapped tangle of limbs and
bedclothes.

    
Cal ordered Roy to sleep in with Mama so
the new Mrs. Easton could share a bed with her husband. From the looks of things
--
 
Sarah's kiss-swollen lips,
bursts of laughter heard from behind closed doors, and seductive looks
traveling between the two lovers -- Roy figured Cal would never let his wife go
back to her old nighttime job.

    
Every day Ned drove Emily to the town hall
school, now completed with benches he'd helped to build. Emily, pleased with
her new clothes and the brand new shoes Roy purchased for her at Watkins, was
truly enjoying school for the first time. She didn't sit at the back of the
classroom, and she had real girlfriends.
 

    
Emily dutifully reported school news to
Sarah, including how Ned walked her straight to her assigned seat, where he
lingered over saying goodbye, all the while looking at Miss Grayson.

    
The third Friday of September Sarah
decided to go to town with Ned and Emily, intending to shop while Emily was in
school.

    
Sarah put on a new skirt that had a
special pocket to hide the two-shot derringer, her wedding gift from Cal.
 
Her husband lifted her into the wagon
and kissed her goodbye, touching her cheek briefly.

    
Ned hadn't driven the wagon but half the
distance to town when they heard the sharp report of gunfire rolling toward
them on the breeze. Ned jerked, Emily gasped, and Sarah was shaken from her
rambling thoughts on how much flannel it would take to make shirts for the men.

    
It wasn't the single shot of a hunter but
a barrage of shots, the prolonged cacophony of rifles and pistols. Startled,
Ned halted the horses, and they all looked back toward the ranch. Sarah's
stomach jumped to her throat.

    
"Oh my God. It sounds like a
battle."

    
Ned's hands were shaking. "Tis."

    
"Cal," she squeaked. "And
Mama."
 

    
Emily's eyes were huge and she moaned.

    
Ned hastily turned the horses. "I
have to go back to help." His voice was strained. "We'll hide you
ladies."
 

    
Emily's face was white and her blue eyes
were wide as saucers. Sarah's shoulders shook on ragged breaths and her throat
was so tight she couldn't speak so she nodded briskly, and she prayed the
cracking of rifles meant that Cal and Roy were fighting back vigorously.

    
"Hang on," Ned called out.

    
White-knuckled hands gripped the side of
the wagon as they flew over the rutted trail.

                                 
*
     
*
     
*

   
 
The terror came suddenly.
Just minutes before Billy had left the corral with a string of remounts. Cal
was working ranch accounts in the study. He heard the heavy rumbling of a
running herd, followed by the sound of shooting from his range outfit. Stampede.
Just as he was rising to go saddle up the strangers thundered down on the
ranch.

    
Bullets peppered the house.
 

    
Cal ran across the room, and hoisted Mama
from her chair. He frowned as he lowered her limp body to the floor and slid
her under the heavy oak desk.
 

    
"Mama you'll be safe here."

    
He stood and ran to the hallway, and
fetching his repeater from its high resting place he scampered back to the
study. Crawling to a position at the open window he looked out and scanned for
targets. Immediately he found one. Calmly Cal aimed at the invader riding
directly toward his position, and he decisively squeezed the trigger.
 

     
The startled man shouted before
pitching off his horse. Hands flew to his belly as he hit the dirt.

    
More enemy riders appeared, and Cal fired
shots as each man hit the ground and ran to find cover.

    
"Boss dere's men in da house!" a
frantic voice shouted from his hiding place behind a horse trough.

    
Shouts echoed from the side of the barn
and corral area, where Cal saw two of his hands lying in prone positions.
These
are some bastards
, he thought
.
One of his men was writhing in agony but the other
was motionless. An outlaw was using the body for cover. More shouting. And more
gunfire, directed toward the house and barn. Bullets, bits of wood, and broken
glass whizzed past Cal. Roy's mules were kicking and braying up a storm.
 

    
"Boss dere's one in the barn!"
He heard the man yell, and the invaders momentarily turned their attention away
from the house.

  
Shots rang from the barn. Cal's men, some just back from night herding,
must have been tending their horses, and now they found themselves trapped in
the middle of a ranch battle. Cal could just make out one man shooting from a
position high in the loft. The cowboy had knocked a board loose and was aiming
to hit a target on the far side of the bunkhouse.

    
The man went silent, reloading his long,
single-shot rifle.
 

    
Cal wondered how many he had out there.
Judging from the lack of movement around the bunkhouse, it appeared that most
were caught near the corral or in the barn. Cal set his jaw and yammered off
more shots, keeping up a barrage, yet at the same time trying to count the
shots from other rifles. He and his men were outnumbered, but as best he could
judge, none of those outlaws had repeaters.
 

    
"Damn! Boss, must be six men in the
house!" yelled the same concerned voice.

    
Cal grinned savagely and grunted as he
reloaded without even taking the rifle from his shoulder, thankful that the
design of it allowed him to quickly shove bullets into the side and keep on
shooting. Indeed, he was raining a staggering hail of bullets around the outlaw
positions.

   
The "boss" waved a red bandanna. A group of men, about thirty
yards away, hidden along the creek, suddenly appeared. The group must have
marched up the river, sneaking past the house under the protection of the
banks.
 
Now they came creeping up
from their cover. Cal counted five men.

     
Then Cal saw Mineral Creek mounts
approaching full tilt from the range, bulging forward from inside a dust
cloud.
 

    
Cal smiled grimly. Those five outlaws were
going to hell with broken backs.

   
Roy, Bailey, and five more cowboys emerged from that cloud like shadows
on sweating horses, weapons at the ready. They slowed, chose their targets, and
opened fire, and amazingly, their first volley left two of the bandits along
the creek eating dirt. Those not hit went scrambling behind trees and
rocks.
 

    
The three men hunkered down in the yard opened
up on Roy's group, forcing them to ground amidst a clamor of bullets whining
and thudding all around. Cal worked the repeater, spitting out a bucket of
bullets to distract the enemy.

    
It felt like hours had gone by, but the
gunfight had been engaged less than fifteen minutes. The outlaws would soon
have no retreat, as more of Cal's men were riding hard from the range. They
began to position themselves in a wide circle around the ranch buildings to
slowly form a tightening noose from which there'd be no escape.

    
More shouting and silence from the outlaw
guns. Reloading sounds amidst the muffled hoof beats of ranch hands coming in.
Cal took the opportunity to move across to the parlor window to shoot from a
better angle. Two dust clouds were coming in from the north, and Cal saw
another bunch riding hell bent from the west.

    
"Sonofabitch, boss!
 
The scurvy gonna have us
surrounded!"
 

    
Cal almost laughed out loud upon hearing
the whiny voice again. At least the man realized the criminal recklessness of
their situation.

    
At that point the "boss" saw
that overplaying his weaker hand would lead to a sure-fire disaster. He
signaled to his men, and the outlaws sent parting shots whizzing into the house
and barn. Cal stepped away from the path of bullets singing through the
window.
 

    
Firing furiously the cretins tried to run
for their mounts, but Mineral Creek's strengthened force answered with hellish
vengeance. Cal jumped to the window and squeezed off a salvo. He hit his mark
twice, but three men managed to slip past the bombardment using their fallen
companion's horses as shields. They rode, crouched between two horses, until
they escaped the Easton men's range, then lit into their saddles, dug spurs
deep into horseflesh, and hightailed it out of there. They rode low, like burs
stuck on mane.

     
An eerie silence descended in their
wake. Hands spilled out of the barn, and Cal's ears rang as he rose from his
position at the window. He loped over to Mama, and seeing her safely curled on
the floor he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She was prone quietly under the
desk, just as he'd left her. Gently he picked her up and cradled her in his
arms, carried her back to her chair, and all the while he reassured her that he
and Roy were fine, and he promised he'd be back as soon as he could. He waited
for her to blink 'yes' before he kissed her lightly and bolted to meet up with
Roy.

    
When he arrived at the corral the men were
gathering to make their reports. Emotions ran high and cussing rained down like
a hailstorm. Cal held up his hand to quiet them. He waved Billy, the
fourteen-year-old wrangler, forward, and ordered the stout young man up to the
house to sit with Mama.

   
 
Roy was looking for
something to kick. "I'd go after them but our horses need cooling, and we
got injured men. We rode like we was fleeing hell just to get here." His
voice rose and fell with his frustration.

    
"OK, OK." Cal thrust his hand
through his hair. "We busted them sheep-biters good. And they're leaving
one big trail for us to follow. Let's settle things here quickly. Then we go
after them," Cal shot breathlessly.
  

    
Then he strode over to Paco, the wounded
ranch hand in the corral. A gaggle of men were around the man, some pressing
bandannas against wounds on his arm and leg. Lucky it wasn't a gut-shot,
thought Cal. He removed his shirt and ripped it into strips to bandage the
wounds. The act calmed moaning Paco some; the man doubtless figured his boss
wouldn't bother to tend to him if he wasn't going to live.
 

   
"What about the other man?"

    
Roy looked past his brother, stone sober.
"Sam's dead. Bailey's taking care of it. And he sent Hanson and Taylor to
get Doc Rutherford."

    
Cal slapped his hand against his leg. His
eyes slid along the dead outlaws littering the property.
 

    
"Know these bastards?" Looking
at them made Cal angry all over again.

    
Roy cussed. "Seen them in town. The
no-goods work for Dullen," he clipped.

 
   
Cal yanked his hat from his
head. "Dullen's crazy, sure. But I never thought he'd start a range
war."

    
"It don't surprise me." Roy
shrugged
.
He cocked his head.