Deborah Camp (35 page)

Zanna was sitting at the dresser brushing her hair when she heard soft rapping at her bedroom door.

“Yes?” she called, glancing down at the chenille robe that covered her sheer nightgown.

“May I come in?” Grandy said through the door. “Or are you already in bed?”

“No. Come in.” She continued pulling the brush through her long hair, but she ceased to concentrate on its smooth progress when Grandy stepped into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. When he didn’t say anything, Zanna was forced to look his way. He was giving her a quizzical smile, his hazel eyes glittering in the subdued
lighting. “Something on your mind?” she finally asked.

He pushed away from the door. Holding out one hand, he stopped behind her. “Let me do that.”

“I … well, you don’t have—”

“Give it to me.” He took the brush from her hand, then began slow, even strokes through the deep autumn crimson of her hair. “Do you have something on
your
mind tonight?”

“No,” she said, letting the word slip from her lips on a long breath. The very act of him brushing her hair with such loving care was filling her with an aching yearning for him.

“I wondered since you disappeared in here so quickly after our company left. That’s not like you. I thought we might play a game or two of dominoes.”

“I figured you’d played enough games of that with Theodore.”

“Playing with Booker isn’t as much fun as playing with you.” He dipped his head to kiss the side of her neck. “Did Booker say or do something to upset you?”

“Of course not,” she said, attempting a laugh. She glanced at his reflection, saw his skepticism, and looked away. “I’m just a little weary. All the excitement of having company …” But the excuse sounded lame even to her ears.

“Zanna, you can’t hide from me anymore. I know you too well. I know when you’re dancing around something. If you don’t want to share your thoughts and feelings with me, just say so.” He laid the brush down on top of the dresser and stepped back to sit on the edge of the bed, arms folded and ankles crossed in front of him. “I take it since you disappeared in here so quickly that you don’t want to sleep with me tonight. Am I being sent to my room because I’ve been a bad boy?”

“No, don’t be foolish,” she said, letting loose that silly, counterfeit laughter again.

“Then are you feeling guilty because I’m your lover and not Booker?”

“Wh-what?” She twisted around on the low bench to stare at him, amazed that he seemed totally serious. “Heavens, no. How do you come up with these wild and woolly ideas?”

“It’s true that I’m shooting in the dark, but you supplied the bullets. It’s no secret that Booker’s got a shine for you. The poor fella can’t look at you without getting all dreamy-eyed.”

“How you go on,” she scoffed, sliding off the bench to busy herself by folding down the bedspread and top sheet. “I’ve made it clear to Theo that I love him as a friend, but my heart belongs to me.”

“Does it?” He stood up to face her. “I was hoping you’d let me borrow it. Maybe we could swap: mine for yours?”

“Grandville …” She shook her head, her voice strangled by emotion. Bending her head, she let her hair fall in a curtain to conceal her reddened cheeks.

“I used to dream of a woman with long chestnut hair,” Grandy said, swinging around one bedpost to come close to her. “You’re the first auburn-haired lady I’ve met, so my dream must have been about you. Did you ever dream of me, darlin’?” He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

“Perhaps, when I was young,” Zanna said, leaning her head against his shoulder and folding her arms upon his. “As a child I might have dreamed of a knight in shining armor, but when I was no longer an innocent, I had no dreams of men. Nightmares, yes. I couldn’t have dreamed of you because I didn’t know such tenderness, such compassion existed in men. My dreams were of being alone in this house with no man to torment me.”

“So bringing me here destroyed your dream.”

“Yes, or so I thought.”

“And now?”

She turned in his arms and looped hers around his strong neck. “And now I can’t bear to think of this house without you in it.” There! she thought with a smile. Finally the truth … some of it, anyway. How can I give you your freedom when it means the end of my happiness? Better a coward than a lonely, heartbroken woman. “Do you feel as if
your
dreams have been destroyed?”

“In a way,” he said, his lips moving lazily against her neck. “But maybe it’s just as well that those dreams are long gone.”

She sighed, closing her eyes, content to be surrounded by his body.

“Are you sure you’re not feeling a mite guilty about not loving Theo like you love me?”

“I’m not feeling guilty … about that.” Unbidden, her father’s advice long ago about giving love its freedom and thus testing its strength flooded her mind. “Grandy …”

“Yes, Sooz?”

“I should tell you something else … something I think you deserve to know even if it means you might decide to ride off and leave me here—”

“No.”

“No?” Did he mean he
wouldn’t
ride off, no matter what?

He turned her around to face him. “I don’t have to know anything else about you. I know enough. We’re kindred spirits, you and me. We’ve been used, abused, and refused. We’ve been dealt bad hands and we’ve folded and lost our shirts, but we came back strong in the next go-round. Sometimes I think destiny has been dealing our cards all along and we’ve finally got a royal flush, honey. We ought to take the jackpot and never look back, don’t you think?”

“I … you think so?”

“Yes!” His hands gripped her just under her arms and he lifted her into the air. “I think so! I’m happy, Sooz! Aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes. Oh, yes.” She balanced herself, her hands at his shoulders, as he slowly lowered her so that her mouth could melt over his like warm honey. “I’m so very happy,” she murmured against his lips, her hands roaming through the light brown thickness of his hair.

He set her on her feet and pulled apart the robe, exposing her white nightgown. To her surprise, he dropped to his knees and pressed his hot mouth to her belly, breathing deeply against her, scorching her skin, inflaming her desire. His mouth moved up, up to one of her breasts, and dampened her cloth-covered nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and rolled her hardened nipple on his tongue while he thrust his hands under the hem of her gown. His fingertips traveled up the inside of her long legs to the warm juncture.

Piercing pleasure stabbed at her heart when his questing fingers slipped inside her. He caressed her with gentle expertise. She moaned, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, her own fingers buried in his hair, which she’d combed back from his wide forehead. Her whole body was weeping for want of him. Her knees trembled, threatening to buckle. She made a sound of regret as she moved away from him to take the two steps up to the feather mattress. She lay back, the mattress folding around her, and waited for Grandy to continue the sweet torture.

Removing his shirt, he then pulled off his boots and tossed them aside before sliding across the mattress to her. His hands settled on her thighs and walked in place, gathering her gown in folds, pleating it upward to expose her ankles, her calves, her knees, the top of her thighs. His lips skimmed from ankle to knee and he slipped his fingers around to the back of her knees where the skin was soft and white and oh so sensitive. His other hand moved up between her legs again. Zanna moaned, parting her legs and making him laugh softly at her eagerness to have him touch her, stroke her, tease her into a frenzy of yearning.

“Do you like that, Sooz?”

She bit her lip, unable to admit it aloud.

“Oh, you don’t? Well, I’ll stop—”

“Don’t stop!” She gripped his wrist to keep his hand
exactly
where it was. “I … like the way … yes, that way.” Her breath whistled out while her body burned.

She found it difficult to remain still. Her hips moved of their own volition. Her legs trembled. Her head rocked from side to side. Her hands gripped Grandy’s shoulders, digging in and flexing, digging in and caressing.

“This is fun,” he whispered hoarsely. “This is the most fun a woman and man can have together.”

She giggled, acknowledging that he was right, but tickled that he’d think of it
now
.

“How
can
you talk at a time like this?” she managed to say between hiccupping breaths as his hand rubbed against her and he angled higher up. He scrutinized one of her blushing nipples before kissing it lightly, then taking it fully into his mouth.

Zanna drove her fingers through his hair, then caressed his back between his shoulder blades as pleasure radiated like sun rays throughout her body. She slipped her hands between their bodies to untie the belted rope at his waist and push his pants down over his hips. She reached down and closed one hand around him, feeling as if she had captured a beast only she could tame. He pulsated in her hand, a magnificent creation of sinewy muscle, bulging veins, and hot skin.

It was amazing to her that she could hold him so confidently when she’d never even looked upon Fayne in their whole married life. But Fayne had taken her while Grandy had given himself to her. He was comfortable with her and she with him. As his mouth continued to claim her breasts—first one and then the other—she marveled at her own tumultuous feelings. She couldn’t imagine such an intense abandoned feeling with
anyone
else. This was her once-in-a-lifetime love, of that she was certain.

Having shed the remainder of his clothing, Grandy
moved over her like a tide of desire, rubbing her straining nipples with his curling chest hair, testing her hunger with his searching tongue. Her own tongue surged against his, restless and longing. His swept over the slippery walls inside her mouth, flowing in and out. Zanna arched against him, anxious and eager for a more fulfilling penetration.

Sensing her imploring need, he glided inside, a mighty ship into a narrow estuary. She lifted her legs and locked her heels at his back in an instinctive posture that drove him further into her. She held his head in her hands, guiding his mouth over hers, moaning his name between drugging kisses that sucked her more deeply into an inner whirlpool of passion. She couldn’t get close enough.

Straining against each other, they rode the crest of their raging desire until they came crashing down, spent and peacefully secure in their togetherness.

Grandy nuzzled between her breasts, making her laugh softly. She hugged him to her, glorying in the possessiveness she felt for him.

Oh, my love, she thought as tears stung her eyes. How can I let you go when I know I’ll never love like this again?

“Still feeling guilty?” he asked.

“A-about what?”

“About being with me when Booker is so crazy about you.”

She combed her fingers through his hair in a loving gesture. “Theo has nothing to do with us, Grandville.”

He kissed a patch of skin just below her left nipple. “Glad to hear it.”

Zanna kissed the small scar on his forehead, wishing absolution were only that simple.

Grandy stood at the pasture fence and watched as the mules picked their way gracefully, delicately toward him. Their ears stood straight up and their nostrils flared. He held carrots behind his back, but he knew he wasn’t fooling them. Sarge reached him first and snorted.

“Do you think I’ve got something for you?” Grandy asked, reaching out to tweak the mule’s ears. “You’re spoiled, big fella. You think every time I come out here I’m bringing y’all a treat.” He grinned and swept
the
carrots into view. Captain brayed. “Well, same to you, Cap,” Grandy said, chuckling as he fed the carrots to the four animals, giving each a loving stroke.

“Hey, partner!”

Grandy turned and waved at Butch. “Good morning, Butch. Are you just getting back from town?”

“Got back a little after sunrise, but I spent all of Saturday and Sunday there. Got me a girl who lives in the boarding house.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. She works in the hotel kitchen.” Butch leaned against the fence post and sighed. “She’s a pretty thing. Blond hair that falls way past her waist when she lets it down.”

“Uh-oh. When a woman lets down her hair in front of a man, marriage can’t be far behind.”

“I wouldn’t mind hitching my wagon to her star,” Butch
admitted, then released a lovesick sigh. “Wouldn’t mind one bit.”

“All you’ve got to do is ask,” Grandy said. “I imagine she won’t send you packing.”

Butch sighed again, then seemed to rouse himself from his daydream. “Missed y’all in church yesterday.”

“We got a case of lazy bones,” Grandy said, shrugging aside any further explanation. “I suppose Preacher Timmons delivered another sermon of fire and fury.”

“He did, but you were the talk of the town.”

“Me?” Grandy turned to face the other man, curiosity knitting his brows.

“Why, sure.” Butch held out one hand and offered a big smile. “Congratulations, Grandy. Couldn’t have happened to a better man. I always figured those charges were all smoke and no fire.”

“I don’t …” Grandy shook Butch’s proffered hand. “Those charges—”

“Right,” Butch interrupted. “You got a clean slate again. How does it feel to be a free man after all this time? I bet the boss lady was mighty pleased. She’s not married to a hanging husband no more.”

Grandy turned aside, pretending to examine a scar between Sarge’s ears, but his thoughts somersaulted and a blaze heated his gut. “What were folks saying about it?” he asked, wanting more information without asking outright.

“What you’d expect. The sheriff was real popular since he knew all the details. So those Rangers who accused you took back their stories, huh? I guess that sort of thing don’t make you too fond of law officers.”

“Right.” Grandy nodded, gritting his teeth as the blaze increased until he felt as if his insides were melting like fat in a fire.
She knew!
his mind shouted, though his heart denied it. That’s why she kept you in bed yesterday morning.