Mara McBain (8 page)

“I can’t trust you alone in the house, and I don’t have time to deal with you now,” he said shortly.

She grasped at the blanket with fingers numb with fright. He steered her from the tack room and gave her a nudge toward a few bales at the end of the isle. She spotted Cole then. He was standing in one of the stalls. His handsome face wrinkled in confusion seeing her. She tripped over her own feet as Trey gave her another nudge.

“Get over there and sit down.”

She was grateful to sink down on the makeshift seat. Clutching the blanket to her, she tried to still the hammer of her heart. Trey moved into the stall Cole occupied. She saw a cow lying down in the straw through the open door. The poor thing let out a low moaning noise that sounded sick.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m just guessing here, but I’m thinking that this heifer is going to calf,” Trey snapped, dropping to a knee beside the animal.

“Thank you, Doctor Doolittle,” Cole said with a snort. “Why is your wife in the barn looking like she wants to run for the hills?”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Recent experience has proven that when anyone but you speaks with her, you get as growly as a black bear in rut.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Wouldn’t want to get you too excited, big boy.”

A low growl rumbled from Trey’s chest. When he looked up, his strong jaw was jutted in irritation and his nostrils flared.

“I’d suggest you turn in for the night before I knock your ass out.”

“Whoa,” Cole said, stepping back with a low chuckle. “What happened in there? Come on. What’d she do to piss you off? This afternoon she was your
beautiful bride,
and now you look like you want to throttle her.”

“She decided to try and break down a door and take on a man who has no qualm about raising his hand to a woman instead of coming and getting me!” Trey snapped. He lurched to his feet with his fists balled.

“He could’ve killed Lilly by the time I came and got you,” Gen whispered.

Cole hastily sidestepped into his brother’s path as he headed for his bride with fire in his eyes.

“You don’t want to do that.”

The smack Trey laid upside Cole’s head staggered him.

“Do what?” he snapped. “Kick your ass? Boy, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

Cole rubbed the side of his head, giving it a little shake as he picked his hat back up. “Well if that’s going to pull the stick outa your ass, jump on,” he sneered.

Trey’s first punch picked his two hundred pound brother right off the ground. Cole hit the ground flat on his back, raising a cloud of dust. Gen smothered a scream. Trey didn’t hesitate, wrapping his fist in Cole’s shirt and dragging him back to his feet only to flatten him again. Cole rolled to his stomach, drawing his knees up under him to push to his feet. Trey put a boot on his ass and sent him sprawling again.

“When are you going to learn, boy?” Trey asked with a shake of his head. “You got the heart but not the heat. You aren’t a fighter.”

Cole staggered to his feet, holding a hand up to stay his brother as he tried to catch his breath. Trey shook his head again and turned back toward the stall. Cole caught him by surprise, his head driving into Trey’s kidney as he took the larger man to the ground in a bone jarring tackle. Gen heard Trey snarl as he flung his head back, connecting with his brother’s nose. They rolled across the floor in a flurry of arms and legs as they struggled for the upper hand. Cole drove his knee into his brother’s ribs, and Gen heard Trey’s breath leave his body in a whoosh.

Cole straddled him and reared back to deliver a finishing punch. One of Trey’s long legs came up to hook across his throat and slam him backward to the barn floor. Still gasping for breath, Trey rocked forward, using his extra thirty or forty pounds to pin Cole. They lay there for a couple of minutes, chests heaving. The heifer let out a lowing bawl and Trey rolled to his feet, concern marking his features as he snatched up his hat and limped back to the stall.

Cole stretched and winced, but gave Gen a wink as he climbed slowly to his feet. He worked his jaw cautiously as he walked over to lean on the stall door and wipe at the blood from his nose.

“You’re going to need some ice on that eye,” Trey said, glancing up at him. “Why don’t you go clean up? My wife can help me with this.”

Gen straightened, shrugging off the coarse blanket. Cole offered his hand and helped her stand. He smiled down at her, his handsome face already swelling. She winced.

Squeezing her shaking hand, he pulled her in close to kiss her cheek and whisper, “You’ll be fine. Remember he’s a good man.”

Watching her brother-in-law walk out of the barn, Gen took a shaky breath and moved into the stall to kneel beside her husband.

“Slide up here and hold her head,” he instructed. “This is her first calf, and she’s awfully young.”

Crawling to where Trey indicated, Gen carefully pulled the animal’s head into her lap while stroking its big, soft ears.

“Do you always have to do this?” she whispered.

Trey shook his head, running a hand over the cow’s shuddering flank.

“No. Most of the time they can do it all on their own, but she’s having problems. She’s scared and tired,” he said with a frown.

Gen’s eyes widened as Trey’s hand and forearm disappeared inside the cow.

“You help deliver the baby like a mid-wife?”

He chuckled, but nodded. “Yeah, something like that.”

She gasped as tiny hooves appeared.

“If she starts to kick, I might need you to hold onto that rope around her back feet.”

Gen nodded, watching in fascination as Trey started to pull the calf free from her mother. The corded muscles of his arms bunched, and he scooted back, bracing his boot heels. A desperate bawl bellowed from the cow, and Gen hugged her head.

“It’s okay, Mama. Hang on. Trey will help your baby.”

“Come on,” Trey grunted, his face red with exertion.

The head appeared slowly. Trey wrapped his fists in the rope he’d attached to the calf’s ankles and leaned back, putting his weight into it. Inch by inch, the little one appeared. Gen watched in amazement. The calf finally came free with a rush of liquid and afterbirth, sending Trey tumbling backward. Scrambling back to his knees, he cleared the little one’s mouth and nose, running his big hands over the limp bedraggled mass and removing the rope.

“Come on, baby,” he muttered, rubbing the wet coat. The calf’s head came up and Trey slumped back in relief.

Shaking in the wet straw, the new calf blinked big eyes. Steam rolled off her wet coat. Mama turned her head to nuzzle her baby, her big rough tongue swiping over the newborn. Gen just watched in awe.

“That was amazing. I can’t believe you did that,” she said, turning teary eyes on her husband.

“They count on me,” he said simply.

Gen licked her lips and reached up to wipe away a tear. The calf was trying to stand. She’d gotten her hind legs under her, but was still on her knees. She watched the struggle, Trey’s words and the pride in his eyes playing over in her mind.
They count on me
. She blinked, the words striking a cord. What had he said earlier to Cole?
She tried to take on a man who has no qualm about raising his hand to a woman instead of coming and getting me!

Far from her father, who never wanted to be bothered, her husband liked to be needed. He’d taken in four extra mouths to feed in a time when rations were slim in many places. He thrived on being the one people depended on.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should’ve came and got you.”

He looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He nodded. “I admire your courage and conviction, but you could’ve gotten hurt. It’s a tricky situation questioning a man’s right to run his household as he sees fit.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll remember that.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, and then Trey stood and grabbed the rake. Cleaning up the stall, he urged the new mama to her feet. His big hands ran over the cow’s ears and scratched her broad forehead as he murmured words of praise for her. Gen watched from the doorway as the new baby awkwardly nuzzled under her mother to find her first meal. Closing things up, Trey swept up the blanket he’d given her and returned it to the tack room. He stopped in the doorway and rubbed at the back of his neck. She’d begun to realize he did that when he had something to say and was mulling over how to say it. Her stomach clenched.

“For the record, I didn’t disbelieve you about Lilly. I saw the way Wade pinched her arm at the church today, and I’ve been on the receiving end of his brand of discipline. He’s sadistic. He enjoys the pain of others,” he said with a sigh. “You put me in a bad spot with the way you handled things. If I had witnessed it myself, it would’ve been easier to confront him if for nothing else than the basis that it’s happening in my home.”

“I didn’t think,” Gen murmured, embarrassment staining her cheeks. “He was right. I’m headstrong. My father always said I need a strong hand.” Chewing her bottom lip, she stared at his boots. Her father had to be laughing in hell to see her married to a man that could break her without trying.

“Strong willed isn’t exactly a bad thing in a woman as long as you temper it with a little common sense,” he said slowly.

She didn’t know what to say to that. She peeked up at him through the veil of her unbound hair.

“Baby, if I wanted you to shiver and shake like a scared rabbit every time I growled, I could make that happen,” he drawled, brushing his knuckles across the end of her nose in point. “As it happens, I like a woman with a mind of her own and a little fire. I was raised by a strong woman to respect the same. All I’m asking is that you use those wits to stop and think.”

Gen nodded. Not only were his words a dream, they made sense. She told him the truth.

“You’re right. I’m not used to having anyone to depend on besides myself. A man like you is a luxury I’ve never had. You’re uncharted territory, big man,” she whispered, trying for a bit of levity.

It worked. He chuckled. It seemed her husband liked the endearment. She moved closer, tentatively pressing into his solid body. His arms came around her in welcome. Wetting her lips, she ran her hands up his back under his coat, swaying slowly in his arms.

“Is this your way of making up, Mrs. McCade?” he asked, looking down at her with a little smile.

“If it pleases my husband,” she answered breathlessly.

His hands slid down her back to cup her bottom and lift her against him. She gasped as he ground her against the ridge behind his zipper,

“Oh, I think it pleases your husband,” he said with a throaty chuckle.

She caught her breath as he swung her around to press her back against the wall. His hands urged her legs around his hips. Cradling her in his arms, he took his time kissing her until her head spun. She whimpered when he raised his head, leaning up in search of his lips.

“You like that, darlin'?”

“Mmmhmmm,” she hummed, trailing kisses down the side of his neck.

He cupped the back of her head, encouraging her kisses as his hips rocked against her. Fumbling with her skirts with one hand, he almost dropped her. Gen gasped, her grip around his neck tightening. He laughed against the side of her neck and urged her to stand. Spearing his fingers through her hair, he pinned her head and brought his lips back to hers, plundering her mouth until she moaned and writhed helplessly against him.

Turning her as easily as a child, he bent her over the tack room work bench. Panting, her knees felt as unsteady as the new calf’s. The cool night air chilled her thighs as he tossed her skirts up over her back. She squirmed, visualizing how lewd and vulnerable the position left her. She glanced around the barn uncomfortably, half rising before Trey pushed her back to the solid surface.

“Shh, darlin'. Trust me,” he murmured as his warm body pressed tight against her back.

Her mouth opened in a silent scream as he thrust deep into her. His big hands gripped her hips as he slid in and out of her.  She twisted against the unbelievable feeling as he filled and stretched her. It felt so good. Pushing back into the shove of his hips, she cried out in pleasure. Fingertips digging into her hip bones, Trey slammed harder into her. She reveled in the power of his body, never feeling as soft and feminine as she did under him.

Her next cry was one of pain as her hip smashed against the rough bench. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she tried to straighten but Trey’s lunging hips allowed for no escape. His arm wrapped around her waist, his forearm protecting her from the harsh wood. His new grasp allowed him to drive faster and harder into her until she wailed in pleasure, jerking helplessly in his grip. He slammed violently into her until his body bowed over her and a bellow scattered the pigeons from their roost in the rafters.

His breath was harsh in her ear, his body heavy as he slumped over her. She shivered as he swept her hair to the side and kissed the nape of her neck.

“Damn, darlin'. That’s what I call making up,” he rumbled against her skin.

She couldn’t hold back a breathless giggle at the comment. Regardless of what he’d said about sex not being a bartering tool, if it took her husband from the hard, intimidating man that had walked her to the barn, to the happy one nuzzling her nape, she was going to use it and enjoy it. A regretful sigh slipped from her lips as he slid out of her. Never would she of thought that the sexual aspect of marriage would be the easy part.

A shiver worked down her spine as she remembered her position. Straightening shakily, she self-consciously tugged her nightgown and skirt back down. She stepped away from the work bench, her gaze darting from the array of whips to her husband who was buttoning his pants. Her body’s tremor became more pronounced, and she hugged herself uncertainly.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you back to the house before you freeze,” Trey rumbled, taking her arm and turning her to the doors.

“Thank you for letting me see that. It was amazing,” she whispered, glancing back toward the stall.

“So much for punishing this wife with a cold, boring trip to the barn,” Trey said with a chuckle.