Wildblossom (17 page)

"I certainly didn't have a long, heart-to-heart talk with Mrs. Croll, particularly with her evil husband glaring at me, but it's true she was a mail-order bride. Apparently, she was living in St. Louis, and lost her family in a fire this past Christmas. She was all alone in the world, so the proposal from Bart Croll was her salvation." Geoff flicked the reins to urge the horses home before darkness settled in. "It's as if she made a deal with the devil, though, because her eyes are positively haunted."

Shelby shivered. "I can only imagine how I would feel were I in her place."

"That sod house may be the worst of the bargain for her. One had the feeling that Bart Croll built and furnished it on a Sunday afternoon...."

Studying his pensive features in the twilight, Shelby felt an odd pang, and again she spoke before the words were formed in her mind. "Is Vivian pretty?"

"Pretty?"
Charmed by her artlessness, he lifted his brows and pretended to think. "Yes, I'd say so, given her circumstances. She has light hair, and very large blue eyes, and she looks quite fragile. My heart went out to her; it would be wonderful if we could find a way to help her."

When Shelby shivered again, Geoff reached out, wrapped an arm around her slim shoulders, and drew her near. Instinctively, she snuggled closer, fitting her face inside the curve of his shoulder. Joy welled up in her heart when he smiled down at her and rested his cheek against her hair.

Minutes later they were home, and Shelby went off to the barn to feed carrots to Gadabout and Charlie. When she came into the house, she saw that a fire had been lit but no one was about. Assuming that Geoff was looking after Mr. Manypenny, Shelby went on to her own room to freshen up.

On a whim, she decided to change into something decidedly more comfortable. It felt glorious to take a sponge bath with the French-milled soap she kept for special occasions, then brush her cinnamon-tinted hair loose, tie it back with a big ribbon, and get into her favorite fleece-lined, drop-seat, red union suit. The fuzzy fabric felt almost indecent against her bare skin, and Shelby was smiling as she added a long white dressing gown, secured with a satin sash around her waist. Warm socks completed her ensemble, which seemed ideal for the plotting session she had in mind to re-steal their cattle. Only Geoff was available to judge her outrageous getup, for the boys were out repairing the crushed fence. Why not be comfortable?

Emerging from her bedroom, Shelby instantly felt the mood shift in the house. The glow from the fire and several freshly lit oil lamps flickered over the framed Wild West Show poster and giant bearskin that decorated the room's walls. Her eyes found Geoff then, casually attractive in fresh tan trousers and a starched white shirt with a plain neck band. He'd left one button open and his hair shone in the soft light.

Geoff stood beside the broken-down sofa and a small table which now held a magnificent new gramophone. It was even finer than the machine owned by Shelby's parents, with an oak sound box, a brass amplifying horn, and a nickel-plated carrying arm. Awestruck, she came closer. This gramophone was made to play flat records rather than the cylinders that had been popular until recently

"This is wonderful!" she murmured. "I've missed listening to songs at home—and playing the piano. When Daddy built Mama her dream house, he made a music room, tucked into a tower."

"I had a feeling you might love music." He smiled into her eyes. "I was ready for a diversion myself. I suspect there's a limit to how many games of checkers I can play, and I may be closing in on that number."

Shelby's face was shining. She literally caressed the gramophone, then began looking at the stack of records. " 'Bring Back My Bonnie to Me,' 'Listen to the Mockingbird'..."

"I had to take what Jakie had in stock," Geoff explained with a light shrug. Meanwhile his eyes roved over her. "What the devil have you got on?"

Her laughter was playful. "I wanted to be cozy—and I thought we were going to sit down at the table with a pot of tea and decide how to get our cattle back."

"Let's dance first."

"Geoff! I look ridiculous! I can't dance like this—and besides, you probably are used to dancing with princesses."

"Nonsense. Princesses are the most boring partners imaginable." A tender expression passed over his face as he took in the sight of Shelby, delightful in her red union suit and dressing gown with the sash tied around her small waist. How could he ever explain to her that he'd stopped dancing long before he came to Wyoming, unless he was cornered, because there'd been no pleasure in it anymore. It occurred to Geoff then that he'd had more fun with Shelby than he'd known in years. Extending a hand, he gazed into her sparkling eyes and said, "Lady Shelby, would you do me the honor of sharing this first dance with me?"

She made a mock curtsy, her red-clad legs showing. "I accept... my lord."

After winding up the gramophone, Geoff put on a record of a waltz called "Love Comes," and as the uneven tune filled the room, he gathered Shelby into his arms. It did not surprise him to discover that she danced well, for she had attended an excellent college in the East and her education colored everything she said and did, in spite of her efforts to the contrary. What did surprise him was the utterly beguiling outline of her soft, diminutive body, for even though she was covered from head to toe, these were clothes that allowed him to feel her true shape. There was something about Shelby that intoxicated him to a shocking degree.

And yet, it was inexpressibly sweet to feel alive again.

Shelby, too, was caught in the spell. The ranch house's main room was big enough for them to waltz properly, and Geoff's touch was deft, a combination of grace and strength which made Shelby feel as if he were lifting her off her feet when they turned with the music. Happiness welled up in her. None of it made sense, but it was real.

When the record wound down, Geoff put on another: "In Love With the Man in the Moon." They danced on and on, caught up together in the magic so potent that it needed no words or explanation.

By the time the second song slowed, Shelby's face was flushed, her heart racing. They stopped together, resting, and Geoff lightly held her against him,
his
hands framing her hips. She was so soft, and she smelled fresh and lovely. The pressure of her breasts on his chest aroused him beyond reason. It was like a fierce hunger that he could scarcely understand, since all his life he'd had more of everything than he needed. Geoff's desires had been fulfilled before they could ripen... until now.

When Shelby slowly looked up at him, and her little hands crept up to twine about his neck, he was lost. It was impossible to hold her closely enough, and the ribbon fell from her hair as he sank his fingers into the shining mass of curls. For her part, Shelby nearly whimpered when his mouth finally closed over hers.

She was ravenous for the taste of him, the torturous pleasure of his deepening, insistent kiss, and the need that built inside her in a way she was beginning to recognize.

The sash securing her dressing gown came undone. The red union suit beneath should have been a decidedly unfeminine garment, but on Shelby it became purely alluring, drawing Geoff's hands to slide over the visible curves of her back, hips, rib cage, and finally, daringly, her breasts.

She gasped, astonished to feel the hot moisture between her legs, the pulsing ache that surpassed any yearning she'd ever imagined.

Bang!
The back door flew open, followed by the sound of stamping feet and Cal's voice yelling, "Anybody home?"

Shelby's first impulse was to dash into her bedroom, but there wasn't time. Cal was already coming through the kitchen. Her discomfiture was such that all she could do was press her hands to her hot cheeks. It took Geoff to firmly close her dressing gown and knot the sash.

"Tidy your hair," he whispered, then went to meet the ranch hand. "How did it go out there, Cal?"

"Fine." Grimy and sunburned, the young man's eyes were startled under the brim of his hat as he focused on the gramophone. "Chrissakes, where'd that contraption come from?"

"The Cody Trading Company."

Regaining a little composure, Shelby came forward to join them. "Excuse my appearance, Cal, but when I heard the music, I couldn't resist hurrying out here for a closer look."

"Well, I'm glad you're here, Miz Shelby. I got some news for the two of you. Serious news, I'd call it."

Unconsciously, Geoff reached out and fit his hand around the bend in her arm. "Go on."

"It's the fence. When we fixed it today, we saw that it wasn't broke by that tree." Cal squinted at them in the firelight. "Somebody's already cut the barbed wire—or they cut it after the tree came down."

"What are you saying, Cal?" Shelby pressed.

He shrugged. "Looks to me like your cattle didn't wander over to the Bar B by accident. I'd say that somebody cut that fence to make it easier to get through, and then those eight head of cattle was outright
stole."

Eyes flashing, Shelby waved a fist in the air. "I
knew
it! I knew that there was more to this!" She looked at Geoff, who wore a grim, thoughtful expression. "Now we have to go over there and get our cattle back, and there's only one way to do it! This isn't London, it's the West, and if we try to go through the town marshal, we'll have a worse mess on our hands. No, we're going to have to
steal
them back—and don't try to tell me otherwise. I won't listen to your arguments!"

"Arguments?" Slowly, Geoff raised his eyebrows and looked down at her animated face. "For once, scamp, we are in complete agreement."

Chapter 9

Geoff spent the entire next day in Cody, chatting with townspeople on the pretext of hiring extra hands for the Sunshine Ranch's first roundup. He even dropped by to meet Marshal Burns, who was in the office at lunchtime, and had a drink with him and Deputy Ted. By using patient and circuitous conversational gambits, Geoff managed to extract a couple pieces of information about Bart Croll.

The first was that the Bar B wouldn't begin its roundup until the next week, so Geoff didn't have to worry that the Sunshine's cattle were now wearing Croll's brand.

Secondly, the men suggested that Geoff might like to join them for a regular weekly poker game, held every Thursday in Purcell's back room. Geoff wondered if he lived too far out, but Ted assured him that even Bart Croll made the trip to Cody to socialize with the men. "Sometimes he even stays over," the marshal added with a wink.

When Geoff arrived back home with this information, he found Shelby pacing back and forth out in the yard. The sight of him riding Charlie down the ranch road prompted her to run to meet him, then nearly pull him off the buckskin's back.

"We just have to wait one more night," he told her, raising a cautioning hand. "Croll won't be around tomorrow; Thursday nights he has a poker game in Cody."

Shelby thought she'd die before another thirty-six hours passed. And, on a practical note—what if Uncle Ben and Titus returned? They were due any moment, after all. If not for the blizzard, they would have already gotten home, she reckoned.

"I'm adamant about this," Geoff said firmly as he walked Charlie to the trough for water. "There's no point in doing something as mad as this if the risks are too great. Do you want to be tried and hanged in Cody for this prank?"

"Prank!
Prank?!"
Indignant, she ran after him as he started toward the house in search of food. "I demand that you take that back! This is an honorable mission, a quest for justice—"

"And you love the notion of sneaking around rustling cattle in the middle of the night!" Geoff ducked behind a cottonwood tree, pulled down his hat as if disguising himself, and lowered his voice to tones of mock drama. "It's the adventure that has you so worked up, and it's no use trying to convince me otherwise. I'm afraid I know you too well."

Shelby knew she ought to be outraged, but instead she giggled, and had to restrain herself from touching him. "If you're trying to incite me, it won't work. I'm in no mood for an argument. Come inside for supper and we'll work out the plans for tomorrow night...."

* * *

"Psst! Geoff!"

The Englishman drew back slightly on his reins and waited for Gadabout and her rider to come alongside. "You must not speak!" he whispered harshly. It was a wonderfully atmospheric night for such an adventure, with a glimmering new moon on the rise, bracketed by diamond-bright stars. The brisk air was scented with sagebrush and, it seemed, danger.