Wicked Wyoming Nights (17 page)

But that was as nothing when compared to the erupting rockets of sweet anguish that rippled through her when Cord unbuttoned the top of her dress and slipped a warm hand under her breast. Her eyes flew open in startled inquiry and her body became rigid. It was on her lips to deny him, to halt this invasion by his impudent hands, but the pleasurable yearning that rapidly spread through her body deprived her of the ability to think or act. Delicious, aching, paralyzing desire traced a fiery path to the nerve centers of her body like sparks from a dynamite fuse. Then Cord’s lips touched the heated flesh of her rosy-tipped breast and her whole being was racked by an explosion of ecstasy. It was as though her body had been reduced to one fiery spot seared by his scalding lips. Nothing else mattered, there was nothing else but the plunging desire to rush toward this exquisite torture. Under the torrid onslaught of his hands and lips Eliza’s body twisted and arched against him.

“By God, you’re beautiful,” Cord muttered, hoarse with desire, “more beautiful than I ever imagined.” His eyes devoured her inch by inch while his fingertips luxuriated in the softness of her skin and his lips tasted the sweetness of her flesh.

Eliza hardly heard him. Her whole body had become a symphony of unfamiliar desires while urgent need welled up from somewhere deep within and washed over every part of her being in ever more turbulent waves. She couldn’t think, she didn’t
want
to think, only immerse herself in the sensations that were propelling her toward a state of utter bliss; she yielded herself wholeheartedly to the fiery confluence of emotions she barely understood and needs she had not even suspected.

Eliza’s whole consciousness was so absorbed in this sensual uproar she was unaware Cord had unbuttoned her skirt until one hand zigzagged its way up her bare thigh. With the power and suddenness of a bolt of lightning, a feeling of panic sprang up that utterly vanquished the desire striving to reduce her will to a pool of nothing. Quite abruptly, the searing heat turned to ice-cold terror and her body, so willingly entwined with Cord’s, became rigid with fright. Her lips ceased to plead for his caresses, and her arms fell from his neck; she lay in his embrace like something inanimate.

Cord was deep under the sway of powerful desire, but he stopped at once. “Did I hurt you?”

Eliza was unable to speak. Her head shake was barely perceptible, but when he moved his hand tentatively along her thigh her eyes stared at him like a terrified animal.

“I’ve frightened you,” he said, and sat up without waiting for an answer.

“It was just that it was a surprise to me,” she said softly.

“Odd, isn’t it,” Cord muttered, angry at himself. “I’m the one who insisted everyone treat you like a lady, yet I go grabbing at you like a bull in heat.”

Eliza wanted desperately to explain, to save him from this self-flagellation, but she didn’t know what to say. Her mind and body were in such chaotic disorder she didn’t know what anything meant. She longed to go back to when Cord held her tightly and covered her face with passionate kisses, but the magic of the afternoon was shattered beyond repair, and she didn’t protest when Cord gathered up the picnic things and helped her into the blackboard. As much as she longed to stay with him, she desperately needed time to think and to absorb what had heretofore been a mystery to her. It wasn’t that her feelings for Cord had changed. Rather, she had discovered being in love involved more than she imagined, and she needed time to see how it all fit together.

Eliza hardly remembered the trip home. Cord talked and she responded, but all the while her mind was frantically searching for answers despite the fact Cord’s nearness kept her wits in a constant tangle. Only after he had left her at the cabin could she begin to make sense of her thoughts. She put off going inside even though she knew it was time to start supper.

Why hadn’t she ever been told about love between a man and a woman? Shock had caused her to withdraw from him; that and pure terror. She still trembled so it was hard to think. To be loved and admired, to be wanted and pursued, was enough to learn in one day. To discover that Cord intended to claim her body, as well as her soul, was too much.

But what was she afraid of? Certainly not Cord. Even now she would have given anything to be at his side, to know she would never have to leave him again. She trusted him as she had never trusted anyone since her Aunt Sarah died. A shocking idea occurred to her. She trusted him
more
than she ever trusted her aunt! That shouldn’t be possible, yet somehow it was. She had trusted him after the first few minutes and had yielded up her mind and soul to him long before she realized it. He had never violated this trust and had continued to build on it without any promise of reward.

And now he had asked her to marry him; he was offering himself and everything he had worked so hard to acquire to her. Wasn’t she ready to offer him her all?

And that’s what it was, Eliza realized with sudden clarity; it was a commitment to Cord that would neither waver nor alter throughout the span of her life. Yielding up her soul
was
different from yielding up her body, but weren’t they part of the same? Was it possible to do one without the other? Could she say she truly loved him and continue to withhold part of herself from him? Still, it was one thing to admit to being in love, even desperately, hopelessly, wildly in love, and quite another to confirm it by yielding up the most private parts of her body. It was a commitment Eliza knew she wanted to make, but it was one she wasn’t sure she was ready to make now.

What if her uncle found out? He might not throw her out, but he would subject her to abuse worse than abandonment! Yet somehow that didn’t frighten her anymore. Whether or not she lived with him would affect her comfort, but only Cord had the power to affect her inner being, and Eliza felt certain he would never abandon her. Noticing the sun had begun to set, Eliza pushed her thoughts aside and hurried toward the cabin.

“Where have you been?” Ira demanded when the door opened to admit his niece. “Don’t you realize it’s nearly dark and you haven’t even started dinner?”

“It won’t take long.” Eliza moved quickly past her uncle to take a leftover stew from the larder. He had been drinking, and that always made him cross.

“Forget the food,” Ira ordered illogically. “Tell me where you’ve been all afternoon?”

“I was restless, so I went for a walk,” Eliza stated, keeping her back to him. “I guess I stayed longer than I realized.” Ira regarded her suspiciously.

“But what have you been doing this whole time? I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Eliza’s brain whirled, frantically trying to guess where her uncle would have searched for her. “I’m sorry if you had to saddle up the horse just to look for me.”

“That’s no answer.
Where
did you go?”

“I went over the ridge, past the Hodgess’ place, and along the creek.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“I must have been in the grove.”

“Why didn’t you answer me? I nearly yelled my head off.”

“I guess I didn’t hear you. I wasn’t paying much attention.”

“If you were in those trees, you’d have heard me.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t hear you,” Eliza said desperately. “I just didn’t.” She hoped the smell of the warming stew would make her uncle forget his curiosity, but Ira was like a dog with a bone.

“I don’t supposed you cared that I might want to know where you’d gone?”

“You were asleep.”

“You could have left a note.”

“I didn’t mean to be gone so long.” He continued to watch her, suspicions forming in his mind. Eliza dared not raise her eyes; she was no good at dissembling.

“I need some eggs for the cornbread,” she said.

“I’ll get them. You keep on with dinner”

Eliza hoped he would have grown tired of the subject by the time he returned, but he was more agitated than ever.

“You weren’t at the creek,” Ira announced, setting the eggs down so hard Eliza wasn’t surprised to find two were cracked. “And you weren’t in those trees either.” Eliza broke the eggs into the bowl. “Where were you?”

“I told you, I didn’t pay much attention to where I went.”

“I think you paid extra special attention to where you went and who you saw.”

“It’s Sunday. Nobody’s about.”

“You went to meet someone, didn’t you?”

“Who would I meet?”

Ira paused a moment, then his face went black with rage. “You met Stedman, didn’t you, even though the bastard tried to kill us?”

“That’s not true.” Eliza was shaking, a strained look in her eyes. “He just ran us off the creek”

“You admit it! You ran off to meet that whore’s son.”

“You’ve no right to call him names,” Eliza declared, roused to wrath by the attack on Cord.

“Now you’re defending him.”

“I am not,” she said, attempting to sound disinterested, “but you’re making a fool of yourself going on about him every time you get a chance. People are beginning to snicker behind your back, even Croley.”

The truth of these accusations only served to fan Ira’s temper. “You needn’t think to hide anything from me, Elizabeth Smallwood. There’s not a person within thirty miles of Buffalo who doesn’t know he’s after you.”

“They’re not as blinded by hate as you,” Eliza said caustically as she placed the plates on the table with a clatter. “But they do know they’ll have to answer to him if they lay a hand on me.” She slammed the stew down in front of her uncle’s plate, but Ira, too angry to notice his dinner, grabbed Eliza’s arm and forced her to look him in the face.

“Do you know what it would do to the saloon if everybody knew you were sneaking off to see Stedman?”

“Don’t I mean more to you than a bunch of cowboys laying down their pay for a drink and a few songs?” she asked miserably.

“That’s no answer.
Where did you go this afternoon?
” Ira demanded, his wrath unabated.

“I told you I just wandered around,” Eliza repeated, saddened by her uncle’s complete indifference to her question.

“That’s not true,” he raged, shaking her like a sapling in a storm. “Tell me where you went!”

“I’ve told you, but you won’t believe me.”

“You haven’t told me the truth.”

Eliza knew that no matter what she said, he wasn’t going to believe her. “If you can’t believe anything else, maybe you can believe that wherever I went, I’ve done nothing I’m ashamed of.”

“Damned, bloodsucking cowboys!” he roared. “They’re determined to take everything from me.” Striking out blindly in his rage, Ira hit Eliza in the mouth and she slumped into a chair, unable to hold back a whimper of pain. Ira was frightened by what he had done, and he tried to cover his shock by helping Eliza roughly to her feet. “It was an accident,” he mumbled. “I lost my temper”

“If you lose it again I won’t be able to sing for a month.” Eliza knew no matter how furious he might be with her for seeing Cord, Ira hadn’t intended to hit her.

“Get dinner on the table,” Ira directed, still conscience-stricken but turning angry at Eliza for putting him in the wrong.

“I already have,” she said through a rapidly swelling lip. They sat without speaking.

“You’re not eating,” he finally said.

“I’m not hungry”

“
You need to keep up your strength
.” She didn’t
respond
. The look of sadness deepened, but gradually a hard look remolded her countenance, a setting of features that had never before appeared on Eliza’s face.

Ira’s disposition gradually recovered its equilibrium, and by the time the meal was over he had forgotten he had ever been repentant. “Hurry up with the dishes. You don’t have much time to get dressed.”

Eliza lifted her eyes from her plate and looked squarely at her uncle. “I’m not going to sing tonight,” she said.

Anger and hurt made Eliza say the words; a desire to be treated as something more than a workhorse gave her the courage to stand behind them.

“The swelling is hardly noticeable. It’ll be gone in a couple of hours.”

“I will not be seen with a swollen Up and bruised cheek.” There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Ira’s features settled into a look of angry displeasure.

“Do you want Mr. Stedman to see me and start asking questions?” Eliza paused. “Even if he’s not mere, someone’s bound to tell him.”

“You mean you’d tell him I hit you?”

“I will if I have to, Eliza promised, willing to make use of any leverage she could. “I’ll tell him and Mrs. Baylis and Mr. Burton and everybody else.”

“You’d set all them against me?” Ira asked furiously.

“Only if you force me.” Eliza’s confidence grew with each passing minute.

They remained perfectly still, two people frozen in time, each gauging the other, each realizing they no longer knew the person they faced.

“You know I wouldn’t hit you intentionally,” Ira acknowledged, knowing he had already lost.

“I know, and I’ll continue to sing, but I won’t go back until the bruises are gone.”

“That could take several days,” Ira hollered, flaring up again.

“You should have thought of that before you hit me.”