The Convict and the Cattleman (15 page)

Sundays were the quietest days at Laurie Lark. The jackaroos played horseshoes or cards at the bunkhouse. Jonah typically spent the day reading or working on his ledgers. Martha spent Sundays with her family. The jackaroos relied on their hunting skills when the cook didn’t come. It wasn’t uncommon for them to roast a wallaby, or on rare occasions, a rooster from Farjana’s coop. Jonah’s stomach rumbled, but he ignored it.

At midday, he bent low over a ledger until Bridgit cleared her throat. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Are you busy?” she asked.

Olivia clutched the rumpled collar of Bridgit’s dress, bonnet askew, one fist in her mouth and blue eyes wide. Curious, like her mother.

“It can wait a few minutes.” He laid his pen aside and stretched his arms overhead.

She gave him a shy smile, bouncing the baby. “I’m sorry to interrupt. It’s just that I’ve been here a fortnight and I wondered if you might have time to show off your station. You seem busy during the week.”

Bridgit and Olivia looked comfortable with each other. If he didn’t know the truth, he might guess they were mother and daughter. The smile reaching Bridgit’s eyes let him know she had planned this for some time. No doubt an attempt to get him to spend time with his niece.

“You can’t ride with Olivia.”

“I don’t ride, I’m afraid.” She looked at him expectantly.

“You should learn. It might be useful one day.”

“If you’ll teach me. I don’t trust anyone else.” She fluttered her eyelashes like a young girl.

He looked out the window. A light breeze fluttered the leaves of a shady gum tree. The clank of horseshoes hitting the ground behind the bunkhouse reminded him it was no day for work.

Given the choice between an afternoon filled with numbers or the company of his lover, the decision seemed easy. “If your heart is set on seeing Laurie Lark today, I suppose I’ll get the gig out. Shouldn’t take long to ready it. While you wait, prepare a picnic. I haven’t eaten since early this morning.”

She smiled, eyes full of mischief. “I already did. I thought you’d like some fresh air as much as us.”

He stood and approached the pair. Olivia’s fist left her mouth and stretched toward him. Sticky fingers brushed his shirtfront. For a second, he considered taking her, but instead he straightened her bonnet.

“Don’t forget your own hat,” he reminded Bridgit.

The wind bent tall grass and daisies, giving the fields the appearance of a rolling tide. A creek cut through the grass below the hill where they set out a blanket beneath a gum tree. Jonah never tired of the view.

Far off, a cow bawled to call her calf back or locate her herd. Olivia lay on her stomach, reaching for a daisy Bridgit teased her with. An endearing scene if there ever was one.

“Do you miss it?” Jonah asked.

“Ireland?” She let Olivia take the daisy. “Aye. It’s so very different here, but it’s not the place I miss as much as those I left behind.”

“Tell me about them,” he urged. “If it’s not too painful.”

Bridgit smiled and shook her head. “Collin is seventeen. The same age Da was when he asked my mum to marry him. I don’t think Collin’s mind is on any certain woman. Or, it wasn’t anyway. He’s a handsome lad, tall as you, I’d guess. Auburn hair, but he thinks auburn is a girl’s color. He swears it’s brown. Donovan is called after my mum’s da. He’ll turn eleven the week before Christmas. His hair is brown and he’s got the biggest smile you ever saw. Not as rowdy as Collin. Very serious and determined. Like Da.”

“And Bonnie?” he asked.

Bridgit swallowed. “Blond like me. Nine years old and still missing her front teeth. Too shy to smile at strangers. She used to carry an old rag doll around, the same one I had as a lass. I wonder if she still…”

She shook her head again, causing a few curls to come free from her braid. “I’m afraid Collin will get caught stealing and end up as a convict too. I worry about the little ones because the farm might fail and the hat shop could go out of business. They’ll be on the streets same as before. Mrs. McMann promised to send word. There hasn’t been any. Collin is no great shakes at writing, though he said he’d try.”

Her devastation made him frown. “I’ll have my solicitor check for you. See if anything has come with your name on it. They haven’t forgotten you. They couldn’t.”

Did she lie awake at night beside him, worrying about her siblings? Did every meal remind her of the food they weren’t getting? He’d always taken for granted the prosperity he enjoyed. Times were tough everywhere, but no one would know it based on his ledgers. This time next week, he’d host a party honoring his parents’ anniversary and no one would complain for want of anything. How easy to forget others suffered.

“I’ve gone and ruined the mood. I meant it to be lighthearted today because you work hard,” she said.

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “My mood is fine. Couldn’t ask for better company. When you need to talk about them, I’ll listen.”

Bridgit frowned, then threw her arms around his neck. The tight hug she gave him spoke volumes. After a long minute, she drew back.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

He grinned. “Borrow a leg of wallaby, did you?”

She looked ill. “I turned it down when Phil offered. I brought bread and cheese and salted meat. And half the pie Martha left yesterday.”

He took the basket and raised the lid. The salty scent of ham greeted his nose, followed by the tangy smell of strawberry and rhubarb pie. Pushing aside the staples, he brought out the flatware and pie plate. The cloth covering it slipped off, revealing a fat strawberry lying apart from the crust. He speared it with the fork and lifted it to her mouth.

“For you, my lady,” he offered.

A blush, much lighter than the ruby fruit, stained her face. “Dessert is saved for last.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

She nibbled at the berry, lowering her lashes when she saw him watching. A small gesture to help her forget the sorrow of what she’d lost. The future was uncertain for her, but he wanted her to consider today and enjoy the moment.

Jonah laid back and dropped his hat over his face. A light dinner filled his stomach and made him sleepy. He couldn’t remember feeling so relaxed since childhood. No more talk of hardship or misery followed their meal.

“We’re safe out here, aren’t we?” Bridgit asked.

“As babes in the cradle,” he answered, voice muffled by the hat.

A solid weight landed on his stomach. Lifting the brim, he peered at Olivia. She smiled, toothless as an old fishwife. Dimples framed her grin. She plucked at a button on his shirt and cooed before raising her eyes again.

His heart skipped a beat. The hat toppled off his head as he propped himself on his elbows to get a better look at her.

“She’s happy.”

Bridgit laughed. “Of course she is. When she’s fed and changed. I keep telling you what a joy she is. I see where she gets her stubborn streak.”

“Not stubborn. Determined,” he corrected.

He reached to straighten Olivia’s bonnet again, but she grasped his finger, tugging with strength that surprised him. She blinked and pulled his hand to her mouth, gumming his fingers. A lump grew in his throat. He understood why Bridgit said she loved Olivia.

“That can’t taste good, poppet.”

Bridgit stretched out beside him on her side, one elbow pillowing her head, and placed her other hand on his arm. Through the thin material of his shirt, her touch heated his flesh. A rush of lust rolled through him and he lifted Olivia off his chest. The blanket-lined basket was the best place for her. Not a peep left her rosebud mouth when he settled her inside.

The golden-haired convict rolled on her back and watched him with hooded eyes. Her expression was a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. She looked so desirable and confident that he hardened instantly.

“You think you’re quite clever, I’m sure.” On his hands and knees, he braced himself over her. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

She reached up and cupped his face. “What gives you that idea?”

“Drawing me away from work, enticing me with smiles and food. And teaching my niece to charm men the same way.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Who taught you about distracting men?” He pressed soft kisses to her skin. She tilted her head back, allowing him access. Her eyes slid shut. A thin ribbon held her plait together. He slipped it off and loosened her tresses.

“Farjana. She thinks you and I are a good match.”

“She’s too keen for her own good,” he murmured, working at the buttons on the front of her dress.

“You can’t mean to have me here,” she protested, covering her exposed flesh with her hand.

“Why not?” He glanced over his shoulder at Olivia. “She’s dead asleep. Who’s going to see? Perhaps those birds over there?”

Bridgit laughed. The sound rolled over him like fresh honey.

“There are an extraordinary amount of birds here.”

“They won’t tell anyone about us. Immortalize us in melody perhaps, but never share our secrets.” He brushed her hand aside, then returned to his task. The dress gave way to her shift, a thin garment hardly thicker than paper. She needed no corset to define her waist; the slender dip between her breast and hips was well defined.

He gave the ribbon a quick yank, watching the bow pull loose. The white skin between her breasts drew his eyes like an oasis to a thirsty man.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“You. Imagining the lush valleys and plains your clothes keep hidden.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“True, but nothing I mind exploring time and again.” Jonah lowered his lips to the top of one breast and kissed there. She smelled of soap and something else. The grassy fragrance he associated with open land. It suited her better than the cloying scents from perfume bottles.

“What of the parts of you I like to explore?” Her hands tugged at his shirt.

Fingernails, short and neat, tickled his sides, drawing a smile. The shirt, undone at the top, slipped over his head. He raised one arm at a time to let her remove it.

“Breathtaking,” she murmured, running her eyes along his chest. Her intimate gaze was like a soft caress.

“Aye. Beyond words.”

She blushed at the compliment. Blood thundered through his veins, pooling in his loins. Her fingers slithered down his side and brushed the front of his britches, already uncomfortably tight. The feeling grew as she ran her fingers along his length.

“If you weren’t wearing trousers, I might find a way to relieve this,” she suggested, eyes sparkling with wicked light.

Under the sun-dappled shade, she looked like a heathen temptress with molten gold for hair and skin as white as snow capped peaks, at least until his eyes found the rosy points of her breasts.

He wanted to bury himself deep inside her. Settling back on his knees, he unfastened his trousers before pulling her dress lower. It bunched around her waist and she lifted her hips, stripping it away. While he removed his boots, her chemise and drawers fell at the edge of the blanket.

The gilded temptress lay back against the quilt, posing with a shy smile and a look that drained rational thought from his mind.

* * * *

Jonah woke to a soft itch on his palm. Bridgit traced the lines there, her touch light, but enough to stir him. During his nap, the sun had shifted to the other side of the tree.

“It’s going on evening. We’d best get home,” she said.

He drew her closer. “I’m comfortable here.”

“Jonah.”

The hair fell away from her neck, leaving a patch of skin he was certain hadn’t received any attention before their lovemaking. She giggled when his lips touched the spot.

“Come on. Olivia’s waking up.”

Bridgit rolled away and reached for her clothes. The shift slipped over her head, swallowing the curves. The brown serge followed and she straightened the skirt. The hem was ragged on the back, leaving a trail of strings.