Barefoot Bride for Three (25 page)

“What did the two of you do while we rode up the mountain?”

“Go upstairs and find out.”

“I haven’t gone up there since I found a pile of clothes that must have been moldering since you were children.”

“They’re gone.”

“Did you open the windows? The place stank of onions and worse.”

“Kate, move that sweet ass up those stairs before I paddle it!”

Trace’s voice rose with each word. She looked from one man to the next and the last. All three twitched with eagerness, just like the puppies when she held a bone.

When they arrived home, Simon insisted on caring for Peaches while she had a nap. While they shared a light supper of soup and lightly scorched biscuits, the men often nudged each other and cleared their throats. The dogs had been sent to the barn for the evening though it was still light.

“That’s it!” Trace approached her with a wild look in his eyes. He leaned his shoulder against her hip, grabbed her legs and stood up. She folded in half, her head hanging down his back.

“Put me down!” She grabbed his belt to hold herself secure.

“Nope. Keep your head down.”

She shrieked, pounded him, and kicked, but it was like hitting rock.

“Hold it,” said Jack. He grabbed one of her feet and started undoing her boot laces. Simon took the other. Her stockings soon followed, pulled off without any attempt to arouse. When she was barefoot Trace, swatted her bottom and started up the stairs.

Because she faced Trace’s backside, she couldn’t see anything until he swung her around and set her on her feet. A bit dizzy, she grabbed his arms until the room steadied.

“Oh, my.”

They’d hung the set of four beautiful picture quilts Prudence MacDougal had given her. Pru had created the Elliott side of the valley
out of
fabric scraps. Beth had seen the view herself when looking out Pru’s parlor window. A pair hung on each side of the center window that lit the northeast half of the open second floor. Winter’s stark white, gray, and evergreens hung to the left beside spring’s bright green with wildflowers. Summer’s gold, sage green, and brown along with autumn’s fiery show lit up the right side. They’d also hung a small picture frame above the window, though it seemed to be empty. She dropped her eyes past the window.

She gasped and stared.

One giant bed covered the floor except for narrow passages under the side eaves. She strained her head and looked again. Not one but three wide bed frames had their legs lashed together to create one huge surface. Each mattress had a clean white sheet tucked in all around. Four plump pillows rested against the wall. A matching number of faded quilts waited for night’s chill. With three male furnaces burning, would she need quilts, even in January?

They’d placed her dressing table on the east wall. She’d never seen the cream and pink flowered wash bowl and matching water pitcher before. It must be for her personal use as she couldn’t see the men touching that color. The silver-backed brush Trace loved to use on her lay next to a folded towel.

A series of carved pegs set in a board at her shoulder height held her dresses. A sea chest padded with a quilt provided a seat. A folded screen of woven grasses
cut across t
he south corner. She sighed in relief. Even with one husband, a woman may want to change or do what was necessary without male eyes watching every move. Three pairs of them would be too much.

The room was to be shared, all right. Pegs set in a zigzag pattern held shirts and pants she recognized, having washed them often enough.

Simon and Jack must have moved the furniture in while she and Trace went up the mountain, but when had they scrubbed the floors and walls? It must have been when she and Trace visited Prudence and Gillis MacDougal the other week. She’d either been home or with two or more of them the rest of the time.

In this room, Trace, Simon, and Jack had made a family nest. They wanted her to sleep with them, to share the midnight murmurings that brought loving adults close together. Their time together at the waterfall was a gift, a few short hours to remember, like a honeymoon before returning to care for the whole family.

Trace understood. She wasn’t just his wife. She was the woman they wanted to share their lives. She inhaled to feel the blood rushing through her pounding heart. She pressed her hand to her chest but it didn’t ease her agitation. It wasn’t love, but it was far more than she’d expected.

She’d stepped onto the Bride Train in Philadelphia determined to make it on her own. Weeks later, she stepped off in Dillon, her illusions shattered. Passing through Bannack City only strengthened her resolve not to give in and accept husbandly dregs. That first night, Trace showed her some of the advantages of marriage when all she’d known were negatives.

The twins soon engulfed her with their humor, passion, and determination. Yet, as Trace’s wife, she’d not felt a full part of the Rocking E. Knowing all three wanted her womanly comfort eased her heart. Not love, but affection and caring. More than most wives ever had.

“We kept the bed downstairs for you in case you’re feeling poorly,” said Simon.

“If Sy snores, we’ll ship him off to sleep with Tony and Cleo in the barn,” said Jack.

“I don’t snore. And you’d better keep your ass tight and not let ’em rip after you’ve been into the beans.”

She bit her lip to stop smiling. By building this room with one large bed, Trace said she belonged to all of them. Giving her a bed of her own elsewhere let her have privacy if she wanted it. That would be the bed she used to bring the next generation into the world. She did
not
want anyone else to see this room unless they, too, shared their men. If Amelia arrived and, God forbid, Pru died, there’d be two wives living with the same set of values, ones suited to the far western part of Montana Territory. The Bride Train may bring others, women who would understand how joy shared, was multiplied.

She pressed both hands over her face to stifle a hysterical giggle as the twins argued behind her. She’d never known siblings could be so ornery yet still care about each other. It was one of the things she loved about them. Honest and open, full of loud criticism, and quiet praise.

“Me? Dammit, Sy, you’re the one who damn near crisped his butt setting fire to your stink.”

“You said we’d be like dragons, only shooting backwards.”

She tried to stop her shoulders shaking, but it was no good.

“You like it, sweetheart?”

She blinked rapidly, but a few tears spilled over her fingers.

“Dang it, Jack,” said Trace. “Look at her shake. You’re making her cry!”

She turned around to face them, her hands covering her cheeks. Trace was the first to notice her happy tears. His shoulders relaxed and he winked. Simon and Jack continued to argue with each other until Trace loudly cleared his throat. They turned to her.

She slid her palms over her cheeks, letting them see her smile.

“She likes it?”

She nodded. “Now I can hug all of you, all night if I want.”

“You know, these mattresses are fresh,” said Jack. He sent her his best leer. “They haven’t been tried out yet. You must be tired after all that riding. Maybe you should lie down.”

“I had a nap before supper.”

“Then you won’t mind staying awake for a bit,” said Simon.

“Try it out,” said Trace.

She could feel their puppy-like eagerness for her praise. She strolled forward. The floor had been well scrubbed. After years of boots, the boards were smooth under her bare feet. She tentatively settled on the edge of the bed at the far right.

“Seems sturdy,” she said. Her words drew all three men toward her like a magnet. She stood on the mattress, her head above them for once. “It’s a bit big for just me.” She took a step back each time they moved forward. None of the men wore shoes or socks. They’d unbuttoned their shirts when she wasn’t looking.

“Want some company?” said Trace. He shrugged his shoulders and his shirt slid to the floor.

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your plans for the evening. Weren’t you in the middle of a checkers challenge with Jack? You’d each won two games in the best three out of five.”

“Checkers?” Jack’s shirt fell to the floor. “Why play a child’s game when there’s a bed to rumple?”

“We could put the board on her belly. See who can concentrate,” suggested Simon.

Beth jumped when Jack’s belt landed on the floor with a thunk. “What’s the prize?” he asked. He scratched the hair below his belly button. His fingers drew Beth’s eyes. She knew what waited behind that denim.

“I say the lady’s the prize,” replied Simon. He shucked his pants. His long cock aimed at her. He nonchalantly grasped it and slowly pumped, forward and back, as it grew.

“Nobody move,” growled Trace. He strode across the room and down the stairs.

Beth, body heating under her clothing, looked from one eager man to the other. Jack tossed his pants aside, and then two men aimed their naked intentions at her. As ordered, no one took a step closer until Trace returned, checkers box in his hand. He set it on the sea chest and quickly stripped.

“Who’s black?”

“I won the last game,” said Simon.

“So I go first,” said Jack. “Who gets to help our table get naked? Me and Sy did all the work setting it up, so I think we should. I’ll take west.”

Jack circled the bed and climbed up on her right side. Simon did the same to her left. Trace sauntered forward to the foot of the bed. He stood with feet apart, shoulders set, and arms crossed. His dark nest of hair sprouted a massive handle. If she needed help climbing down from the bed, he wouldn’t have to offer his arm. His third leg looked sturdy enough.

Jack, ever the rake, picked up her right hand and bent over. He kissed her knuckles as if they met in a city soiree and she wore white gloves past her elbows. Instead, he turned over her hand and kissed the calluses already growing on her work-roughened hands.

Simon picked up her left hand and, wasting no time, flicked a wrist button open. He turned her hand over and grazed the sensitive spot under her cuff, right where her palm ended. She stood, arms out as if in benediction until they finished with her sleeves.

“I’ll start at the top buttons,” said Simon.

Before Jack could react, he brushed a knuckle over her cheek and tilted her chin up. His shoulder brushed her swelling breast as his fingers worked to free her throat. Jack sank to his knees in front of her. He tugged her blouse out of her waistband. He’d unbuttoned past her belly before Simon passed her breasts.

They raced to reach the last and flung her blouse behind her. Instead of cooling from removing the confining fabric, heat rushed through her, filling her tight breasts. A set of soft lips suckled each one. She reached behind to brace herself against the wall, closing her eyes to the sensation. She shivered when fingers trailed down her belly to her skirt. Someone undid the few skirt buttons and it dropped to her feet.

They helped her to lie on her back across the bed. Trace set the checkers board so one edge grazed her breasts and the other rested on her hip bones. He set up the pieces, black for Jack and red for Simon. They sat with crossed ankles on each side of her. The board, wider than she, hid their fingers when they caressed her from her ribs to hips. She twitched at the tickle.

“Hands to yourselves,” said Trace. He lifted her head on a pillow and settled there, his knees framing her ears. Smiling down at her, he began pulling out her pins and releasing her hair. He combed it with his fingers, draping it over the pillow and around him.

She relaxed, the center of their attention. For once the twins played in silence rather than tormenting each other. When she first arrived, she thought they behaved like giant undisciplined children. Once she’d shared herself with them and the initial tension was gone, she realized it was their belligerent male way of showing they cared about each other. Trace would grouse and they’d give back just as strong. She’d learned to read their bodies and tone of voice rather than the words they threw around.

Though a huge man played with her hair and two more snuggled tight against her sides, she was the most relaxed of them. Checkers was just a game to her. It didn’t matter who kissed her first as soon all four of them would be participating. But to the twins, everything was a contest. Perhaps now that they would share a bed all night, they would feel more secure.

Jack hopped three of Simon’s pieces, the sound loud on the wooden board. Simon hissed a curse and Jack snorted a laugh. She smiled up at Trace. He lifted his eyebrows in question. She mouthed
I’m happy
to him. He tugged gently on her hair to show he understood.

The board tickled the underside of her breasts, making her quiver. Jack, halfway through a move with one hand lifted, stared at her trembling flesh. A snort from Simon and he completed his move. Simon immediately snapped up two of the black disks and tossed them aside. He tapped the board for Jack to “king” him.

“Whose side you on?” said Jack.

“Mine,” Beth replied. “The board is getting a bit heavy.”

Jack and Simon looked at each other. As far as Beth could tell, no words were spoken. But both hooted at the same time. One swept the checkers wide while the other lifted the board and tossed it toward the foot of the bed.