Stolen Little Thing (Little Thing Series Book 1) (15 page)

Esme turned in his arms and looked into his eyes. “Because you said you love me.”

“Of course I do. Everyone knows I do.”

She pulled his arms more tightly around her. “Well, finally, now, ‘everyone’ does.”

Mesmerized by the flames, the crowd watched the blaze diminish as it faded into a heap of glowing coals. The men doused the perimeter with water, until Luke finally called them off.

He gathered the boys around and talked to them about how there wasn’t going to be any finger pointing about the loss of the barn. “Barns can be replaced,” he lectured, “but people can’t, and the important thing is that everyone is safe.”

Henry began to cry as Consuelo consoled him.

David grumbled. “Why the heck couldn’t it have burned down before we painted it? All that work for nothing.”

Consuelo reached over and smacked David across the back of his head. Nolan offered to stand watch to make sure there was no danger of another outburst of flames.

No one wanted to leave him alone, so the boys set up card tables. They were not willing to let a perfectly good card-playing opportunity pass. If Nolan was going to be up, there was a good chance they’d hear a few good stories and learn more card-playing wisdom from the man they all loved and respected. Even though it was well past midnight Consuelo offered to serve up
tacos al pastor
to everyone.

Luke and Esme bid the group good night and returned to their room where Luke splashed water on his face and arms to clean off the soot and dust. As he toweled off he asked, “Did you say your lovely mother thinks the ranch is hers?”

Esme washed too and then slipped into bed “Yes, that was her latest story.”

Luke got into bed beside her and pulled her in close. “That’s going to be a problem for you.”

“Oh?”

“Where will your sheep live, if she owns the ranch? Do you suppose Mr. Rodriguez will take them back if you ask nicely?”

“I’m not asking him anything.”

He ran his hand down her side stopping when it rested it on her hip. “Where will you keep them?”

“Here.”

“Nothing doing. I don’t like sheep. If I would ever consider having them, it would only be after a whole lot of persuasion on your part.”

Esme yawned and snuggled closer.

“Both of us need to be awake if you’re going to do any convincing. I might consider leasing a small pasture to you, but I’ll charge extra for sheep.”

“I can’t
imagine
what you’re talking about. How would you go about collecting payment from your own wife?” She raised up on one elbow and gazed at him.

A faint glow of moonlight lit the room, just enough light for him to see her looking at him with an expression of utter innocence. In just a short time, Esme had gone from shy and innocent girl to bold and alluring woman. She knew just how to tug on him, to play him and tease him back. The transformation filled him with such tenderness for her, but it stirred him too. His body responded to the subtle weight of her in his arms.

He gathered the hem of her gown in his fist and swept it over her shoulders, tossing it aside. He smiled at her gasp of dismay. If she was trying to appear indignant, her small laugh gave her away. She wanted him too, and he marveled at how it was possible for a man to be so lucky.

With gentle pressure, he coaxed her back to the mattress and kissed her. Her response to him was, as usual, immediate, her arms curling around his neck and her lips parting. He stroked her mouth with his tongue. Slow, drugging kisses that made a pulse of desire pound through his body.

He kissed her breasts, but didn’t linger like he usually did. Instead he kissed a soft trail down her belly and noted her shocked reaction. Her breathing stuttered and she tensed beneath him.

“Let me,” he whispered.

“Yes,” came her soft reply.

He grasped her knees, drew her open and skimmed his hands down her thighs. His dark, sun-tanned hands a sharp contrast to the creamy skin of her thighs, her soft flesh a contrast to his work-roughened palms. He kissed her sex and gently, like the tips of butterfly wings, licked her.. She was slick with desire, the scent enticed him. He groaned. She was sweet and hot and everything he’d imagined. Her small pants and cries made him wild and he had to fight to control the lust that surged through him. She writhed beneath him and he felt her pleasure building. She fought and bucked, but he held her, pinning her to the bed until she arched and cried out his name.

As she floated back down from the heights of her climax, Luke gathered her in his arms and entered her. She groaned with the pleasure she still felt and hugged her legs to his hips.

His body was filled with scorching need. Her orgasm was the most erotic thing he’d ever known and it took only a few thrusts before he found his own release.

“I love you, Esme.” He tried to ease his weight from her, but she held him.

“Stay,” she said. “Don’t go.”

And he did.

Esme turned in his arms and kissed him. By dawn Luke promised she could have any pasture she wanted.

Edgar and Henry crouched over the bucket of paint and studied it. The boy stirred it slowly. The colors swirled and turned a deep crimson. Both Henry and Edgar murmured their approval.

“It’s like the color of a ripe apple,” said Henry.

Edgar stood and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I would say it is the color of a raspberry picked at the perfect moment, on a summer’s morn.”

“Yup,” Henry replied. “Or that.”

The Rodriquez family came down the road, their buckboard rattling over the ruts of the road. The three boys hung off the sides, waving at Henry, and jumped off while the wagon was still moving.

“This barn’s even bigger than the old one,” one of the boys exclaimed.

“It’s got stalls for twenty horses. The old one only had stalls for ten. It’s going to take two days to paint. Did you bring bedrolls to camp out?”

Before anyone answered, another two more buckboards came down the road: the Becker and the Hoffer families. They brought tents, bedrolls, and scores of covered dishes for the hungry work crews. The horses were unhitched and wagons unloaded.

Soon the barn was surrounded by teams of painters and crews of boys setting up scaffolding. Nolan and Loretta sat with the parents of the boys in the shade of an oak tree. Lilac’s half-grown kittens wrestled in the dappled sunlight.

Luke and Esme, the last people to join the party, emerged from the house.

Nolan teased them about their late arrival. “Finally decided to join us did you?”

“It’s my day off,” Luke grumbled. “I have Roberto in charge of the painters, and Edgar too. With that sort of expertise around, a man should be able to sleep in with his bride if he feels like it.”

Edgar came jogging across the yard, paintbrush in hand. Back from Italy just three weeks, he’d scarcely stopped smiling since his return. He’d fallen in love in Rome, and sent a letter proposing to the woman. Leonora, Nora, for short was a widow and lonely like Edgar. She was due to arrive in ten days, and the couple would live in Simon’s home.

Edgar would be busy over the next few months. Luke and Esme had entrusted him with the plans for a new cabin for the boys, one that would be more spacious and comfortable.

“The boys are making excellent progress,” Edgar said. “They think that if they need a second day, it will only be for an hour or two. They were worried if they finish early they’d cancel the campout. I was elected as spokesperson, something about my powers of persuasion.” Edgar laughed a little self-consciously.

“Hell, I don’t care.” Nolan turned to look at Luke. “What do you think, boss?”

“Fine by me,” Luke said.

“The more the merrier,” Esme added.

Loretta laughed. “Why I declare, Mrs. Crosby. I believe you’re starting to get a soft spot for those boys.”

Esme smiled. “Those boys are perfect children. That’s why.” Everyone laughed. “Luke and I will be adding another little one come December.”

There was a collective gasp and several men shot to their feet and offered their chair to Esme. She laughed and waved them away, but the women insisted that she sit and rest. Esme could not imagine why Luke, then Edgar, and now her neighbors all acted as though she was a porcelain doll just because she was expecting. She’d never felt better. There hadn’t been a moment of morning sickness, and as she entered her second trimester she assumed she wouldn’t.

The only people she hadn’t told were her parents. Randolph had fallen on hard times after a number of poor investments and was busy selling holdings in order to pay off creditors. Rosalind had taken the remnants of her inheritance and returned to Italy where she bought a seaside villa on the Amalfi coast.

As dusk gathered, the last of the painting was completed. The men set up tents and the women the supper. Before eating, they gathered in a circle and bowed their heads while Luke led them in prayer.

Edgar added a few words for the child Esme carried.

“I’ve always loved Esme and it warms my heart to see her starting her own family. I feel very privileged to be here and part of all this.” His eyes shone with tears.

Henry, who was possibly the only one who hadn’t heard of Esme’s condition, stared at her slack-jawed.

“Finally,” he said with a sigh of happiness. “Finally there’s going to be someone around smaller than me!”

THE END

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