Southern Seduction [Bride Train 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (23 page)

“Hot enough for you?” She drawled the words.

His eyes narrowed as his nostrils flared. He moved his hands to her hips and rolled sideways, taking her with him. She squeaked, finding herself on her back with Byron on top of her. On top and inside. This time he was the one moving in and out. He dragged his belly over hers as he moved, scraping her clit. She closed her eyes, shuddering at the mini-blast that blew through her. When she opened them he was on his elbows, his face inches above her. She stared into his eyes.

“Time for a kiss,” he said. “A real one. Think you can handle it?”

She nodded. Nothing she’d experienced so far had overwhelmed her, at least, not to frighten her. She enjoyed being overwhelmed by their passion, and wanted more of it.

He dipped his head, swiping soft lips past hers in a tease. She grabbed his head and held him still. She looked at his mouth.

“You shaved your moustache! Oh, Byron, you’ve had it for so long. Why?”

“I want to kiss you without it getting in the way.”

He nuzzled her lips. She opened her own. He flicked his tongue over her teeth, then between her teeth and her mouth. A burst of need hit. She grabbed his ears, pulled him tight and thrust her tongue back. He pressed his lips hard against hers, grinding down on her while his tongue fought inside her mouth. His power and need inflamed her. She turned her head, sucking his tongue into her mouth.

He finally had to pull back. Both of them gasped, fighting to breathe.

“Now that is a kiss,” he said between pants. He went up on his hands and pumped his cock into her a few times. She gripped him hard. “Those pussy lips of yours are just as greedy as your mouth. I’m going to lick and suck them as hard as I did these.”

He dipped his arms and gave her a quick kiss. His cock went deep, beyond what she’d felt with Cole.

“Spread your legs and wrap them around me,” he ordered. She lifted her feet and, when she had them positioned, he stroked again. Deeper. It felt like he hit the end of her channel.

“Oh, yes,” she said, groaning. “That feels so good.”

“How about this, then?” He moved and did something different.

“Yes! Oh, please, do it again!”

He did, and once more. Each time she groaned, exhaling as he thrust. He lifted one hand and touched her clit with his thumb. She arched. He grinned and wiggled his thumb. The spark from her clit made her pussy explode. She curled, holding her breath and position as her orgasm jumped to a peak. She gasped a breath, but he did it again, and again. Harder and deeper. She grunted with every thrust until he slammed deep, roaring her name, and everything went black.

* * * *

“Sorry, but we don’t have time to take the wagon,” said Byron.

He hated to make her ride astride after all the sex she’d had with him and Cole. But while she slept after their second bout of lovemaking he’d gone downstairs for a snack. Sophie told him that the fall gather was to start first thing in the morning. They had a lot of work to do before gathering all the valley cattle and sending them off. He winced when Casey looked longingly at the large wooden crate, but she nodded her agreement. She’d put her shirt and pants back on, leaving the cream dress to be delivered with the crate.

“You’ll be too busy cooking to miss it,” he added. She nodded, set her jaw, and turned away. “Sophie said the other wives are looking forward to meeting you again.”

“Don’t tell anyone about the money,” she said. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to tell Willy, and he should know before others.”

Byron nodded. He and Gibson had already agreed about that. Gibson had passed on his concerns about Casey’s safety. As far as they were concerned, the fewer who knew about her newfound wealth, the better. She’d be safe, surrounded by people for the next week as they rounded up all the cattle in the valley. Trace and Ross agreed that the sun should hold once today’s rain passed. Since they’d lived here longer than anyone else, no one disagreed with their weather sense. They mounted up and rode northeast, heading cross-country.

“You didn’t wake me to talk with that Pinkerton agent,” said Casey after a few minutes.

Byron kept the pace slow. She’d just had her first sex, and she’d been wild and demanding. Instead of his cock being sore while riding like it had been since he found out she was female, he was in great shape. He expected her pussy was tender, however.

“I figured you could use the sleep.” She turned her head, eyeing him from under her hat. He rolled his eyes, recognizing her demand. “Yes, Casey. I wanted to talk to him alone.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me anything?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I never expected to hear about my family again,” he admitted. “Since Gibson was in the area, he checked all of us out.”

He waited, but Casey stayed quiet. Since she didn’t demand, he told her. He hadn’t had much time to think about it, and was still numb. He stared between the horse’s ears as he spoke.

“Gibson said my parents got into a big fight one night. Both were drinking, with the door bolted, as usual.” His laugh was full of sarcasm. “My mother loved to throw things at my father. This time she threw an oil lamp. It hit his head and exploded. He fell to the floor, taking the drapes with him. The fire spread to the sofa. The servants had learned to ignore my mother’s screams. She couldn’t get the door open without the key, which was in my father’s pocket.” He swallowed, fighting his imagination. “The servants managed to save most of the house. No one else was killed. If I was still there, as the oldest son, I’d have inherited the whole estate.”

“Oh, no!”

Casey tried to approach but he waved her away. Their horses did not get along, and if she tried to comfort him, she was likely to end up thrown. He wasn’t sure why it hurt that his parents were dead. Maybe a small part of him wished that they’d accept him one day. That was no longer possible. He sighed from the bottom of his lungs.

“None of my brothers and sisters admitted they remembered me.” That was the part that hurt. Not even his little sister, the one he’d held so much, cared about him. Cole’s parents might be alive somewhere, but his cousin didn’t want to know. He said they’d abandoned him so he’d shut that barn door long ago. Byron didn’t blame him in the least, but…

“You hear anything about Marshall?” A light flush rose in Casey’s cheeks. “Sorry,” she added. “It would be best to tell him about this before me.”

“Actually, I think it would be best you told Marshall.” She tilted her head in a silent question. “Unfortunately, Marshall’s father is still doing well. He married his daughters to his cronies. Both grooms were just as tight with money, so they held a double wedding.” Byron had never met his aunts and uncles. After hearing about them from Grandpa, he’d been glad. But he might have enjoyed knowing a cousin or two. “Both girls died birthing their first children, within a month of each other. Then their mother overdosed on morphine. The servants said she did it on purpose, to escape her husband.” He gave Casey an encouraging nod. “Marshall needs to know that his mother is finally free.”

“Just as I’m free of my father and Bart,” she said quietly.

“You want to tell me anything more about this Bart?”

They’d just met when Casey told Byron about her pappy wanting to sell her. She’d been scared of him, and pretending to be a boy. More information would give him a better idea how to make sure none of them said anything that would make her feel as bad.

Casey scrunched up her face. She exhaled, hard.

“Most girls were married off by fourteen, usually to cousins. Many of them died birthing their first babies.” She turned her hazel eyes on him. “When you’re all alone, having your first baby is hard.”

Byron’s breakfast turned to rock in his stomach. Too many women died in childbirth or shortly after. Leaving a young wife to birth a baby alone was the same thing as murder in his mind. Murder and torture.

“From what I’ve heard,” he said, “having a baby is hard anytime. If we’re blessed with you having a child, you will never be left alone near the end. Either Doc or Nevin’s Auntie and Sunbird will be with you. And us, of course. We care about you too much to have anything happen to you.”

She blushed. He didn’t think she even noticed that her free hand dropped to rest below her belly button.

“Since there weren’t many women, even though I was ugly Bart wanted me. He started pestering me when Mama died. He kept asking Pappy, but he said no. He wanted to trade me to his cousins to marry. They, um, didn’t want to marry me, so I took care of Pappy and my brothers.”

Byron sensed there was more to the story of why her cousins didn’t want her, but they had years to talk it over.

“But then your pappy ran out of moonshine,” he said, prompting her.

“You don’t know what that meant to Pappy. He had nothing but me and Willy. The cabin was falling down because he didn’t even try to fix the roof. But when he had a stash of ’shine he had friends coming by, happy to see him.” She gave a sound of contempt. “They didn’t give a damn about Pappy, just what he could give them. So when he ran out of ’shine early that spring, he was missing more than his weekly, or daily, drunk. He had no cash money, but he went down the mountain anyway. Willy followed him.” She smiled absently.

She rode for a bit without speaking. Byron kept quiet, patiently waiting for her to be ready.

“When Willy heard Pappy tell Bart he could have me, he lit out for home. We dug up the gold we’d saved and took off west. Just like Mama told us.”

Byron already knew it was to escape her father selling her into prostitution. He let the silence ease their tension as they rode.

“You realize the only relative the four of us have is the grandmother you just found out about,” said Byron. “And Willy, of course. You think this money might make him want to stay instead of heading to California in the spring?”

Casey turned her head toward him. She’d hidden the sadness he’d seen a few minutes earlier. He did the same, letting her set the mood.

“Don’t you remember what my brother said to Cole before the judge married us?”

“That he would be staying nice and close to make sure Cole treated his big sister right.” No, Willy wouldn’t desert Casey. He’d proved that by saving her from their father, and then setting her up with a job on their ranch.

“There was Willy,” continued Byron, “a seventeen-year-old string bean in a borrowed coat telling Cole Taylor what for.” Byron laughed, remembering Cole’s surprise at Willy’s tough stance. Surprise and respect.

“Don’t laugh,” she replied ominously. “Willy’s real good at setting snares. Man or beast, he can catch anything. I think he had something to do with the last two of my fiancés getting killed. He didn’t like what they said about me.”

“That you were an ornery woman who can cook up a storm?”

Byron said it with a grin, which wasn’t returned. She shook her head with such a sad look that he braced for her answer. He realized Casey was like a sweet onion. As he learned about her, peeling off one layer after another, the sweeter he discovered she was. There were a lot of scabs and rough spots on her surface but over time he and his cousins would reveal the woman beneath. He could be patient, knowing the reward would be great. But she’d need a lot of caring to remove those ugly layers caused by her first twenty-one years.

“No,” she replied far too quietly. “They said they would chain me to the stove and beat me until I learned my place. Just like Pappy did to Mama.”

Oh, my God!
Byron felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. His horse danced sideways, picking up his tension. What did a life like that do to a woman? He was lucky Casey wanted anything to do with them. Yet she eagerly took them to her bed. She stared forward, blinking rapidly. Her right hand fingered her knife as if reassuring herself. But she wasn’t alone anymore. Far from it.

“Casey,” he said quietly. “No one is going to hurt you here. Not if there’s anything me, Cole, Marshall, or Willy can do to stop it. And the whole valley will help, as well as most people in town.”

She nodded, but he didn’t think she believed him. A few days of marriage didn’t change the way a person thought. Not after living her whole life in danger.

He’d be having a long talk with his partners about what else Gibson said. The Pinkerton Agency was investigating every link that led to or from Orville Rivers. That included discovering where Hugh Jennet got the money to start his bank.

The trail was cold since the Jennets arrived in 1863 when gold was found. But when Gibson checked into both the banker and his wife, he discovered gold went missing from an Eastern bank about six months before the Jennets arrived in town. The man complaining about the theft was named Sparling. He was Eudora Jennet’s younger brother. The Pinkertons did not believe in coincidences.

They were still trying to find out why Jennet tried to shoot Rivers. Was it blackmail over stolen gold, or something more sinister? He shook off the thoughts. His job was to take care of Casey and the ranch.

Casey barely saw her new husbands during the next week. Her night with Cole, and following day with Byron in the hotel, was almost like a dream. The fall gather was on and every day was filled with cooking, laughing, feeding, cleaning, and laughing some more. At night she and the other women fell into an exhausted sleep on a pallet. She was surprised when Sarah asked her to show them how to make redeye gravy and a few other Southern meals. She held her head a bit higher at the praise for what she considered simple meals.

The men worked all day gathering cattle, branding them, selecting which ones to sell, and demolishing all the food the women prepared. At night they rolled in a blanket in a barn and snored until morning, when they started over.

They started in the west end of the valley, with the Elliotts’ Bitterroot Ranch. Casey wasn’t the only woman wearing pants, though Jessie spent her days roping cattle in the branding pen rather than cooking with the women. Since she admitted she was little use in the kitchen, Amelia MacDougal spent her time with her twin six-month-old sons and Lily Elliott, who was about two months younger.