Rocky Mountain Wife (13 page)

A part of her wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

Hell. She was coming his way. Joshua ducked behind the big draft horse he’d hitched up to the wagon. Damn. He hadn’t counted on her coming out of the house so quick. His plan had been to tie the horse to the hitching post in front of the house and duck back into the fields. He wasn’t sure he could look her in the eyes with certain, er, memories taking over and affecting him.

“Joshua, thank you.” Her pretty butter yellow calico dress snapped as she walked purposefully across the grass. “I was just coming out to hitch up. I didn’t expect you to prepare the wagon for me.”

“Well, I am your husband. Technically.” Awkward, he stared at the ground in front of him where a dandelion bloom lay crushed and mangled by last night’s hail. “It’s my job.”

“You are a good man.” She squinted up at him. She wasn’t wearing a sunbonnet, and blond curls had escaped her knot. They danced in the wind and caressed the side of her face.

His fingers itched, jealous because they wanted to touch her too. “You have that wrong. I’m not good at all.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment.” She swept toward him as golden as the sunlight, and the most tempting thing he’d ever seen. “I have your breakfast plate in the warmer, if you want to go in and help yourself. I made you a fresh pot of coffee too.”

“Uh, thanks.” He felt his face burn, remembering her last night, but the image of her pleasuring herself was no longer a silhouette in his mind—oh no, that fantasy had taken on the life-like look of her with her soft skin and golden hair, the lush pink of her lips as she quirked them curiously.

“No problem. You need to keep your energy up if you want to get all that planting done fast.” She reached up to take the rein from him. Her hand, so small compared to his own, brushed up against his. Skin to skin, just that small bit of contact tore through him.

“Ivy and I are on our way out.” Business-like, she whipped away, leading the horse and wagon away from him. “You’ll have the house to yourself. I made blueberry pancakes just for you.”

“You remembered.” His throat hurt with emotions he didn’t expect and couldn’t control. “The muffins were good.”

“Glad you liked them.” She gave him a tight smile over her shoulder, almost cool but still polite. Still nice.

That was Claire, a nice lady, but she had no notion what was going on with him. He swept his hat off and held it casually over his fly so she wouldn’t know how she affected him.

“I’ll leave the kitchen door unlocked,” she called out, the last thing she said as she hurried away, leaving him standing alone.

She had no idea how bad she’d left him wanting. Heat throbbed in his blood until every inch of him beat with a desire that was more than lust. He stood there like a fool, because she’d cast a spell over him.

She stopped the horse and wagon in front of the house. Her little girl hopped out, a dark-haired miniature version of her mother, adorable and sweet, hopping into the wagon and bouncing to a stop on the seat.

He watched Claire climb up beside her, and she chatted kindly to her girl. They were the perfect image of what a family should be—the one thing he knew nothing about.

What game was he playing here? He shook his head, plopping his Stetson back on his head and turning away. Disgusted with himself, wishing like that. His stomach rumbled, so he walked the path through the backyard to the house. The doorknob turned easily in his hand and he stepped into Claire’s kitchen.

It was everything he’d ever figured a real home should be. It smelled faintly of blueberry pancakes and bacon. Soft sunshine tumbled through the windows, where ruffled curtains snapped cheerily in the breeze. The gingham pink cushions and tablecloth matched the curtains and the braid rug at his feet.

He wanted more than he thought he could ever have. Frustrated, he used the dishtowel hanging by the sink to rescue the plate from the oven warmer. He grabbed a clean fork from a drawer and poured a mug full of fresh coffee. He took his food outside to eat on the back steps. He didn’t feel comfortable in this house, in Claire’s home.

But a part of his heart ached with a longing he couldn’t explain.

Joshua had hardly looked at her this morning, which was all right since she could barely look him in the eye. Claire was grateful for the hot burn of the sun, because any onlooker would think her face was pink from being out in the heat and not because of last night—and what she’d done—and what she’d thought.

It was all she could do not to groan in embarrassment, and yet the pleasure that moment had given her almost made her smile. That orgasm had been a long time coming—years—but it was not the thing to be thinking about when she was unloading her daughter at school.

“Ma!” Ivy had taken ten steps onto the school’s grassy lawn before she spun around with a twirl of her ruffled skirt and rushed back. “I forgot my lunch!”

“Uh, lunch.” Claire cast around the floor of the wagon and spotted the pail. She grabbed it and handed it over. “There you go. Have a good day at school, honey.”

“Bye, Ma!” Ivy dashed off, only to turn right around again and run back. “I forgot my spelling book! Ma!”

“Oh, right. Your spelling book.” Claire sighed, frustrated with her lack of attention. It had been so long since she’d had an orgasm, she’d forgotten the effects of it on the brain—or at least, that’s what she was blaming it on. “Do great today, love. I can’t wait to hear all about it this afternoon.”

“Gotta go, Ma!” Ivy dashed off to join her friends near the schoolhouse steps.

“Yes, it’s the big spelling bee today.” Her dear friend Josie strolled over, looking relaxed and happy. Locks of rich brown hair tumbled down to accent her sweet face. Her eyes sparkled with joy. “It’s all my boys have been talking about. Charlie is looking forward to it, Owen is dreading it.”

“I think Ivy is a little of both.” Claire leaned against the shady side of her wagon. “How are you? You look great.”

“Well, so do you. Marriage to Joshua must suit you.” Josie leaned against the shady side of the wagon and lowered her voice. “Let me see. You look really more relaxed today than I’ve seen you in a long time. Your eyes are bright, your cheeks are pink. I recognize the look of a woman who has been well pleasured. Good for your Joshua.”

“No!” Denial raced through every part of her. “It’s not like that. He didn’t—”

“He didn’t what?” Josie arched a knowing brow. She looked as if she’d already made up her mind as to what happened. “Don’t even try to deny it, but if you don’t want to talk about it here, I understand. Too many people around, not to mention children. But I’m happy for you. A well-skilled husband is a good thing. A very, very good thing. It’s why I’m always smiling.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed you smiling at all,” Claire teased, relieved Josie wasn’t going to press the subject. “How is the new barn coming along?”

“Fine. Noah seems to love to build things. He already has the frame up and is nailing on the roof.” She glowed with pride in her new husband. “How is the replanting going?”

“Joshua is the hardest working man I’ve ever met. He says we’re going to be okay, that what we have planted is enough to keep the ranch going for the year.” She felt a twinge of pride in the man, too. “If I had to marry again, he was a good choice.”

“It’s hard to move on.” Josie’s eyes turned sad. “It was years after my Elmer died before I could even think about finding another man. I can’t imagine how hard this has to be for you after such a short time.”

“It hasn’t been nearly long enough,” Claire admitted with a sigh. Oh, her chest felt so tight it ached. “I’m not done grieving Clay yet. I still want him back so badly. It feels like I’m betraying him when I—”

She stopped herself, not quite knowing how to explain her sexual attraction to Joshua.

“A woman has needs.” Josie’s voice warmed with comfort and understanding. “I missed so many things about my marriage to Elmer, but especially alone at night when he would turn to me and I, well, I needed him that way, too. After a while I started thinking of the really handsome, well-muscled fellow who owned the gun shop before the fire put him out of business.”

“Oh I remember him. Very, well, inspirational.” Claire could see why a woman would think of him at night when she was alone in her bed. “I just feel so conflicted—”

“Of course you do,” Josie sympathized. “But you have to embrace your life now and live in the present. You will always love Clay. But it’s okay to love and enjoy the man in your life now. Just do it with him and enjoy it.” Josie winked.

Claire blushed. “Honestly, I thought we were past that topic.”

“We are never past that topic.” Josie laughed, pushing away from the wagon. “Well, I have to be off. I have a cake to bake. You know we are coming over to celebrate your marriage. We’ll see you on Saturday?”

“Count on it.” Claire shrugged. “But promise me there’ll be no more of that kind of talk.”

“What? I can’t promise that.” Josie walked backwards across the street where her new buggy and horse were waiting in the shade. “What else is there to talk about, really?”

Claire rolled her eyes, even if she was laughing. She whirled around, hopped into her wagon and settled her skirts on the seat. A hand bell rang above the noise and chaos in the schoolyard.

Susannah stood on the top step in front of the open door, looking professional and polished in a pretty plaid cotton dress, her dark auburn hair pulled up in a loose knot on the back of her head. She spotted Claire and gave her an enthusiastic wave as children pounded up the steps and streamed past her into the schoolhouse.

Claire waved back, sending smiles because it was too noisy to call out to her. She’d have to catch up with Susannah later. Josie was already far down the road, hurrying back to her pretty home in the country. Happy for her, Claire gathered up the reins and noticed two small boys scurrying toward the schoolhouse. It looked like two brothers, boys she’d seen around town. They had lost both parents and an older sister in the firestorm last year. They looked ragged and too thin.

And sad. So sad. The boys sprinted up the steps to the schoolhouse.

They are orphans. Just like Joshua had been.
Claire gulped, unprepared for the punch of caring that centered in her chest. Oh, Joshua. She couldn’t imagine the hardships and loneliness—maybe even neglect—he’d experienced. He’d grown up without a family, without siblings to play with and a mother to fuss over him. He’d been unwanted and unloved. It was unthinkable.

And yet, he wasn’t the only one. She felt for the boy he’d been and for the brothers who now ran, late, into the schoolhouse. She snapped the reins, sending Harold down the street.

What was she going to do with her feelings? She cared for Joshua more than she’d ever realized. Tension coiled so tight, she could barely move her head to check for traffic. Troubled, she pulled onto the main street and was relieved to find the dress shop owner unlocking her front door. Time to see about getting a job.

Joshua emptied the last of the seeds from his pouch into the soft, loamy earth and covered them with a few pats. He straightened, wincing at the burn in his back from bending over for the past few hours straight. He’d unhitched the horses and left them to rest and graze in the shade at the edge of the field. He checked on them and spotted a few gophers scampering down the way to check and see if they could grab a few of those seeds for themselves.

Before he could chase them off, a shadow circled overhead. A hawk, wings spread, cut across the sun. The gophers, sensing danger, darted for cover in the tall grasses.

Smiling to himself, Joshua tromped between the rows, satisfied by the look of the acres upon acres upon acres of land he’d planted. Last night’s storm had been good for the ground, wetting it just right for planting. He had high hopes as he ambled over to the wagon parked nearby and refilled his pouch from the hundred and fifty-pound seed sack in the back. The sun was at its zenith, hot and oppressive over the land.

This life—a farmer’s life—was all he wanted. He was independent, a man working for himself. He had a decent home, he had prospects, and he had something to work for. One day, the mortgage he’d taken on would be paid off. He would be able to pay Claire her fair share, and he would own this beautiful place free and clear.

Then he truly would be independent, a self-made man. That’s the way he lived his life, what he believed in. Unlike his childhood, he was never going to be hungry or homeless or live not knowing what tomorrow would bring. Not again. He trekked back down the row and plunged his fist into the seed pouch.

He owed Claire everything for that, and he ought to show her better respect than how he’d been thinking about her. Especially after witnessing her masturbating—

Forget about it.
He ordered the image from his head, steely willed, as he dropped a few seeds into the soft ground.

The back of his neck prickled, turning as cold as ice. Unsettled, he glanced around. Newly planted fields surrounded him. The world had gone silent as the hawk circled overhead. Whatever small creatures had been around had all ducked for cover.

He felt watched. His gut went cold, and he shivered despite the sweltering winds and the brazen beat of the noontime sun. He couldn’t see anyone near, but the feeling didn’t leave him as he grabbed another handful of seed and bent to plant them in the earth.

The feeling remained. He kept working, unable to dismiss the icy tingle of warning deep in his stomach. When he went to refill his pouch at the wagon, he casually pulled his Colt .45 from its spot beneath the seat and tucked it into the back of his waistband. The hawk moved on to circle another piece of the cloudless sky. The gophers scattered into the grasses at the edge of the field. Birds came out to sing, and still the feeling remained.

He didn’t like it. Not one bit. He wasn’t imagining it. Both Thunder and Lightning were restless, shifting and pulling at their tethers in the shade. Was it a predator out there, maybe? A cougar or a wolf just out of eyeshot? That would explain a lot, but it didn’t feel right. It just didn’t.