Sandra Chastain (18 page)

Suddenly he stood and stripped off his clothes. Pulling the sheets and blankets away, he knelt down beside her. “Maybe there is a way, Redhead, for me to give you what you want.”

She lay back and held out her arms, expecting him to fill her with himself. But he didn’t. Instead he moved over her, sliding down so that he was
settled on his elbows propped on either side of her chest. For a long time he simply stared into her green eyes, filled with desire.

Then he lowered his head and took her nipple inside his mouth. She was exquisitely hot, swelling inside his mouth. He nuzzled and sucked, as his child would. Letting the nipple go, he moved around the aureole, kissing his way up her neck, across her lips and down to the other breast, all the while touching, caressing her with his tongue.

Tonight he wanted only to give her pleasure. He reveled in the little sounds she made, in the way she moved against him, offered every part of herself hungrily to him. His hand moved down, discovering and teasing her body. His lips followed.

Beneath him, Rusty was on fire. She heard herself whimpering. Her hands dug into his back. Her body had turned into a seething mass of desire. She was in agony. And then his lips slid across her stomach, lower, lower, until he found the center of her desire. She cried out.

“Cade, no. Cade, don’t.”

“Yes. Let it go, darling. I want to give you what you need.”

And then she felt it. That special warm spot deep inside her began to glow. Hotter and hotter, higher and higher. She felt tears stream down her cheeks. Her hands were on the back of Cade’s head, pressing him against her, holding him. Her hips were arching, opening herself to him.

And as the red-hot tide burst through her, she felt the very core of her existence open to this man who’d become such a part of her other self.

Then, as awareness filtered over her, she felt his face slide back up her stomach and lie across her
breasts. His breathing was rough and uneven, and he was trembling. Her body was slick with sweat, her own heartbeat still erratic.

For a long moment they didn’t speak.

“Cade, I … I didn’t know. I … what about you?”

He moved up in the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. “Don’t worry about me. Loving you is enough for me tonight. I just want to hold you to my heart.”

He kissed her forehead and lifted her leg across his lower body. Beneath her thigh she felt him, still hard and throbbing. She nudged him with her knee.

“Don’t do that, Redhead. There’s just so much a man can take before he cracks under pressure.”

“Really?” she said with a grin, giving him a deep kiss that increased not only the throbbing but the imperceptible movement of his body against her as well. She began to work her way down his chest, one wicked kiss at a time.

“Don’t do this to me,” he pleaded, “I’m liable to disintegrate right here in this bed, and little Eugene will never see his father.”

“Eugene?”
She raised her head in horror. “You have to be kidding.”

“I’m not kidding. We owe that man a great debt.” He gasped as her lips started a downward trail. “After all, he found your ad.”

“He didn’t force you to stay.”

“No, but he knew that I was melting, and he warned me not to let myself drown in the thaw.”

But the warning was already too late. As Rusty’s mouth found the object of her attention, Cade
acknowledged that he’d always wondered what it would feel like to die of pleasure.

And then, in a rush of heat and a passionate groan, he did know.

It was fire and light and explosive passion. It was two people who belonged together. Two people who were joined.

Afterward Rusty raised her head and looked anxiously at the man she loved more than life itself.

“Was it—are you all right?”

He pulled her up over him, laying her face in the hollow of his neck. Now they were together, touching.

“I’ve never been so all right,” he whispered. “Now, go to sleep. I want to hold you through the night. I don’t want to leave you—ever again.”

“Good,” Rusty murmured sleepily, “I have an assignment for you first thing in the morning.”

“What is it, darling?”

“I’ll show you then,” she said, and she slept.

Cade might have slept, but he couldn’t be certain. His body protested, but he managed to force himself to be content. This woman in his arms was his to protect. She would be Pixie’s mother and the mother of his other child. He could wait until morning for more.

Rusty couldn’t. She tried. But the sun was still cowering behind the mountain when she gave up her battle and began a shy assault with her lips on Cade’s chest.

“What!” He came suddenly awake. He was being kissed. He was being fondled. He was already hard. Rusty was still asleep. She didn’t know what she
was doing. He groaned. He didn’t think he could lie there and let her touch him any longer.

“About that assignment,” she whispered, and burrowed beneath him. “I believe in getting an early start.”

When Rusty woke the next time, she was alone in the bed. Letty was pulling the drapes and announcing that the doctor was downstairs to check her out.

“Doctor? Why? I’m fine. I’ve never been better.”

“I can understand that, but Cade called him at first light and insisted he come and check you out again. He seemed to be worried that something might have happened last night. Didn’t make any sense to me, but he was determined.”

Rusty smiled. The dear man. She knew what he was doing. When they’d made love the second time, he’d panicked for fear he’d hurt her, injured the baby in some way. She knew better. This baby was meant to be. He was strong, just like his father.

Rusty smiled and turned her face to her pillow. It smelled of Cade. The bedclothes smelled of Cade. She let out a deep satisfied sigh.

“I know what you mean, girl,” muttered Letty, “but I think you’d better get yourself to the shower before the doctor gets up here. Cade may have figured out the answer to that bull’s problem, but he’s driving the doctor crazy with questions about his own.”

Rusty came to her feet. She wasn’t sore. She wasn’t angry. She felt wonderful. “Bull? What do you mean?”

“Seems he wasn’t falling from any tranquilizer. Doak missed him completely. After he woke up this morning, Pixie set them all straight. She explained that Pretty Boy came from Africa. He doesn’t understand English. He was only scared, like she was when she came here.”

“Pixie was scared?”

“Yes, until Glenda, the good witch, made everything all right. She said that Pretty Boy just needed love.”

“Yeah? Well try telling that to the hands.”

“She did, and you know what? A chorus of ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ was all it took. He’s following them around like he was one of Mary’s sheep.”

Rusty looked out the window. There in the corral was Doak, petting the bull. She raised the window for a moment. Letty was right. Doak would never win any talent contests, but she’d never heard a more innovative rendition of the plight of Mary and her lamb.

“Your shower’s ready,” Letty said.

Rusty closed the window and headed for the bathroom, oblivious to Letty’s mock look of dismay as she picked up Rusty’s gown from the floor.

“Must have gotten pretty warm in here last night,” she said with a knowing smile.

“Yes it did,” Rusty responded with an impish grin as she closed the bathroom door. After a quick shower she slid into a fresh nightgown and crawled between the clean sheets that Letty had put on the bed. They were nice, but they took Cade away, and she didn’t like that. Then she skimmed her nipples and felt a shiver of response, bringing
back the memory of Cade’s hot mouth touching her there.

“Send the doctor along, Letty. I don’t want to hold him up. And see if you can keep Cade downstairs until after he’s finished. There are a few things I need to know.”

“As soon as the doctor comes up, Cade’s going to call Judge Meekins. That ought to occupy him.”

“What for?”

“To arrange for the wedding. He says it’s going to be on Sunday. Is he right?”

“Cade is always right,” Rusty said with a satisfied sigh. “Tell the doctor to hurry.”

The wedding was held at three o’clock on Sunday afternoon, in the study. Pixie was the flower girl. Letty was maid of honor. Eugene was best man. Doak, the hands, Will, and Ann-Marie were all invited guests. After the ceremony and the cutting of the cake, the judge reached into his coat pocket for the marriage certificate.

Instead he brought out an envelope.

“Do you want this back, now that you’re staying, Cade?”

“ ‘Staying’?” Rusty said, a puzzled expression on her face.

Cade took the envelope and handed it to Rusty.

“I don’t think this matters anymore. But you might like to have it,” he said tightly. “I mailed this the morning after the Cattleman’s Ball.”

Rusty looked at the envelope. It was addressed to Judge Meekins. On the back:
to be opened after I’ve gone
.

“ ‘After I’ve gone’?” Rusty read.

“I didn’t know what would happen,” he said. “I only knew that a piece of paper wouldn’t decide it for me.”

Rusty opened the envelope. Inside was Cade’s contract, shredded in pieces. There was a note:
The only contract that means anything between two people who love each other is written in the heart. If you don’t want mine, I have no need for this
.

“Oh, Cade,” Rusty said softly. “You love me? You really love me?”

“I really love you. Didn’t you know?”

“Yes,” Rusty said, tears in her eyes. “I know. I just wasn’t sure that you did. I—I have another order for you,” she whispered shyly, “about that place for yourself, the one you wanted to find to keep us from destroying each other?”

“I’ve found it,” he answered steadily. “You said the first day that the trouble you had was with government regulations, manpower shortages, and the drought. I’m no rancher, at least not yet. But I can deal with those outside problems.”

“But I don’t understand,” she began, ready to tell him that the Silverwild wasn’t hers anymore. It was theirs, and their children’s.

“No,” he insisted. “You run your ranch, darling. I don’t know anything about it. I do know about building dams and pipelines. Paxton will put up the money to dam the canyon. Then I’ll build a pipeline to carry water to the other ranches and irrigate your pasture. We’ll all profit from a cooperative venture. What do you think?”

“I think,” she said, sliding her arms around his neck, “that you’d better stop jumping to conclusions. We’ll run the ranch, and we’ll build a dam,
and we’ll build a pipeline. And we’ll probably fight about it every step of the way. But what I have in mind for you right now is an assignment of a different kind.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, a much more personal assignment.”

“Willadean!” Letty interrupted sharply. “This is a wedding reception. I expect you to conduct yourself like a proper bride and serve your guests some punch and cake.”

“Letty, darling,” Cade said with a broad wink, “who made the punch?”

“Well I did, with a little help from Eugene.”

“That’s about what I thought. I don’t believe that the doctor would approve of Rusty drinking that punch. Pixie, come here.”

The little girl ran to her father and allowed him to sweep her up in his arms. “Listen, Pix, I want you to lay off the Tundra Tonic too. We don’t have anything ailing us anymore, do we?”

“No, Daddy. But Eugene says that it’s a good liniment too. Pretty Boy likes for me to rub him with it.”

“Fine. But you’ll be drinking milk with your cake and sandwiches. Okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“And I want you to be good while Rusty and I are away on our honeymoon. Mind Letty and Eugene and Doak, okay?”

“Oh, I will,” she said eagerly. “I already promised Rusty. But, Daddy, why are you going on a honeymoon to Alaska? Eugene says that most people go to warm places.”

Cade looked across his daughter’s shoulder at his wife. He couldn’t say that they didn’t need
warm places. They took their heat with them. Alaska might be in grave danger of a thaw, since loving Rusty could cause a major meltdown. Utah could become a tropical rain forest.

“I wouldn’t worry, Pix,” he said hoarsely. “I think we’ll manage to keep warm.”

And they did.

If the world’s climatologists noticed a change in temperature in a remote section of Alaska just above Juneau, they attributed it to faulty equipment.

Back at Silvenvild, Pretty Boy took his work seriously, time and time again. But nine months later it was the first calf, born of that first mating, that proved his value.

Pretty Girl was beautiful. She was taller, stronger, and more durable than anyone had expected. So was her twin, a magnificent replica of his father. He was christened by Pixie with the unlikely name Toto.

But neither of Pretty Boy’s offspring could compare with another birth on the same day. Cade Eugene Wilder McCall weighed in at ten pounds. The doctor, summoned from Coyote Wells, said he’d never seen a first child more determined to be born. He didn’t even give his mother time to get to the hospital.

Rusty didn’t care. Having Cade deliver his own son on Silvenvild was just what she’d planned all along. He’d accused her of casting a spell on their child before he was even born. She hadn’t argued. After all, he’d never been able to decide whether she was an angel or a witch. And she had no intention of telling him now.

A few days later Pretty Boy’s twins were brought
to the corral for Pixie to see. She was fascinated, watching both little ones trying to nurse. The bull stood to the side and appeared to be looking on with fatherly pride.

In the house as Rusty nursed their son, she felt a swell of warmth steal over her. Cade, sitting on the bed beside her, was watching with a look of intense pride and something else, something she couldn’t identify.

“Are you all right, Cade?”

“Yes. You’re so beautiful, so very beautiful. I never knew loving someone could be so profound.” He leaned down and kissed the child letting his lips slide across to clasp the other nipple.

Cade groaned. “I can’t believe that I’m jealous of my own son. He’s where I want to be.”