A Wanton Woman

by Vanessa Vale

  There were no callers, no one interested in seeing the woman that I’d married, that I now shared with Walker. They would arrive soon though, for Walker had walked to his house to retrieve some of his clothes. We’d decided before we went to Denver that we would live in my house—our house now—and Walker had yet to move in fully. Come spring, we would sell his house. There was no doubt he’d be seen and everyone would know of our return. I guessed we had three hours before the most curious would come knocking.

  While the journey over the pass had been treacherous, the snow heavy and the wind creating blizzard-like conditions, Slate Springs had escaped the brunt of it. Mountain weather was fickle and I was pleased to see only a few inches on the ground out the window. The morning sun was bright, making the snow we did have, glitter. Inside, the scent of coffee and fried potatoes filled the warm air. The cast-iron stove made the room quite warm and I enjoyed seeing Celia in just my shirt and socks.

  “See the rope, sweetheart?”

  She turned away from the stove and looked out the back window, squinting against the brightness.

  “It’s strung between the back porch to the barn. If it’s snowing too hard to see the barn, you need to grab hold of it and use it as a guide, otherwise you might get lost.”

  “Lost?” She frowned. “It’s only, what, fifty feet to the barn?”

  “Mmm,” I murmured, agreeing with her estimate. “About that. Last year, Mr. Demer went to feed his horses one night and they found him twenty feet from his back door the next morning. He’d walked outside, gotten turned around and couldn’t find his way back. The snow was so heavy he couldn’t even see the light from the kitchen.”

  Her eyes widened. “He died?”

  I nodded. “You go to the barn in a storm, you grab hold of that line and don’t let go. Just follow it either way and get into shelter. All right?”

  “Yes, Luke.”

  “Good, because I can’t spank your ass for not listening to me if you’re dead.”

  The idea of Celia lost out in the elements had a chill run down my spine, even in the warm kitchen.

  Walker came in then stomped his boots and shook off his coat.

  “I checked on Mr. Bernard.” When he leaned in to kiss Celia, he added for her benefit, “He’s in the house next door.” Next door was a few hundred feet away, but still the closest neighbor. “He’s a widower and getting older now. We make sure he’s got enough cut wood by the door to keep his fires lit. Other things.” Walker glanced at me. “I expect we’ll have visitors before too long.”

  I frowned, knowing that we’d have the entire town descending on us soon enough. Walker couldn’t walk through town without being noticed and I knew everyone was eager to see who the mayor married under the new law. With his brother.

  As she’d put it the first night in the Denver hotel room, she was the example and everyone would be looking at her differently. There would be those who judged, who criticized her and our marriage. They’d probably even think her a whore for bedding two men. But it was our job to shelter her from this, to protect her not only from her troubles, like the bastard Carl Norman, but from the troubles that fell on my shoulders, and Walker’s too.

  We just had to hope that the transition would be smooth. Not only was I the mayor, I had a mine to run and couldn’t remain at home forever.

  “Are you worried what people will think?” Celia asked, scooping fried potatoes into a bowl.

  I saw the worry on her face.

  “I worry what people will think about you,” Walker said, taking the bowl from her and putting it on the table. “But we won’t hide, doll. We won’t hide what we share. I think it’s pretty special, don’t you?”

  She blushed then, but nodded.

  “He’s not talking about how we both fuck you, sweetheart.”

  Walker grinned.

  “We’ll hide everything about how we share you,” I added, my possessiveness making me almost growl. “That’s private. No one sees you the way we do. No one.”

  “Especially like earlier when you had the plug in your ass.”

  She flushed an even brighter shade of red and turned back to the stove. I imagined the way the plug had parted her ass cheeks so prettily just a short time ago and I had to shift my cock in my pants. It had instantly become hard. Hell, I was always hard for her. She took the larger size well now, even fucking her with it deep inside her. It would be soon when we took her together, that we were truly joined as one.

  “Luke is insatiable,” Walker said, smiling and shaking his head. “I meant our marriage, doll, is special. What we have, this connection, is unique whether there are two grooms or one. I won’t let anyone diminish that.”

  Celia’s look went soft and her smile a bit wistful at his words. I agreed with Walker wholeheartedly.

  “All right,” she replied, then paused as she stared blankly at the table. “Do you think… do you think Carl made it into town?”

  When she turned her head to me, I saw the worry in her eyes.

  “I can’t say if the pass is closed now. The snow was bad up there when we came through, but it could have stopped.”

  I wanted to ease her fears, but couldn’t.

  “A stranger can’t go unnoticed in a town of our size, doll. If he’s here, we’ll find him.”

  Walker walked by Celia and squeezed her shoulder.

  “We’ll find out if the pass is closed and if anyone’s seen him from those who call today.”

  “You really think people are that interested in our marriage?” she wondered, sitting down at the table.

  I glanced at Walker and he grinned.

  “Definitely.”

  ***

  Celia

  We did have callers, just as the men had expected. First, Mr. Bernard from next door, who was in his sixties as Walker had said. While quite fit, his hands were gnarled from rheumatism and I imagined it was difficult for him to complete some tasks. I was glad to hear Walker had stopped to offer him some help. He’d been kind, yet curious about me, but had not stayed long. Then came the Johnsons, the Rands and then a small group from church. While no one said anything to me outright besides town news—the pass was indeed closed—I had no doubt when they walked back down the street, hats low on their heads against the cold weather, they whispered about me.

  It was nothing I wasn’t used to. The last few weeks I was in Texas, the whispers and looks had been unbearable. I’d had no one to shelter me as I did now. Both Luke and Walker remained with me the entire time, not leaving me alone once.

  It was another couple who came up the walk that made Luke curse beneath his breath. I didn’t know why he dreaded opening the door; I just sensed that he did.

  Luke let them in, but with much less warmth than with the others. He was a small, rotund man of similar age to Luke and Walker. What hair he did have on his head—he was mostly bald—was fair. The way he stared at me with beady little eyes, suspiciously and with dislike, made me wary. While the others who had come to call had been curious, they’d also been kind. This man didn’t seem to be kind at all. His wife was even smaller than he, her eyes downcast and her shoulders curled in.

  “Thomkins, may we introduce you to our wife, Celia?”

  “How do you do?” he replied. “My wife, Agnes.”

  Agnes offered me a peek at her eyes and a faint smile before she looked at the floor again. I thought her shy until her husband spoke. “Agnes has been curious how your marriage would be consummated.”

  The woman sucked in her breath and glanced at her husband, but remained silent. No, she wasn’t shy. She was cowed, trained not to speak back to her husband, even if he spouted lies. I had no doubt it wasn’t the meek woman who wanted to know about how Luke, Walker and I fucked. Looking at the very unappealing Mr. Thomkins, I had to wonder if they’d actually consummated their marriage.

  “Thomkins,” Luke warned.

  “You know I didn’t vote for the law,” he began.

  Walker sighed, b
ut remained quiet.

  “To see it now in effect will change the moral fiber of our town.”

  “Yes, we’re aware that not everyone wanted the law,” Luke replied. “But we are a democratic town, even though we are small. Everyone had a chance to speak and the council voted.”

  “You’re aware of all this,” Walker said. “You were at all the meetings.”

  “Yes, but what about church? The children?”

  “We don’t have any children. Yet,” Luke added. “Give us longer than a week to get on that.”

  I blushed.

  “I didn’t mean your children. I meant the ones in town. What are they going to think?”

  Walker came to stand behind me, one hand on my shoulder, the other on my hip. “That we love our wife, that we honor her, respect her and certainly don’t shame her.”

  The last wasn’t directed at me, but a barb for Mr. Thomkins. I didn’t like him, not one bit. He’d made it very easy to feel that way. I felt sorry for Agnes. The poor woman had to live with the man.

  “We won’t stay and take up any of your time. We are having dinner with Reverend Carnes and his wife.”

  I didn’t know the religious couple, but I doubted they would be overly welcoming either. I could imagine the four of them sitting there and gossiping about us over boiled potatoes and stewed meat.

  “Then don’t let us keep you.” Luke went to the door and opened it, making it clear he was eager to have them go.

  Thomkins stormed out and left his wife to follow. She offered me a small smile before stepping out onto the porch. Without anything to hold onto, she slipped and fell, landing on her bottom, but with her hand out to stop herself. She cried out in pain at the jarring drop.

  Luke was crouched beside her as Mr. Thomkins returned up the snowy walkway with care.

  “Agnes,” he said, but it was more with frustration than upset.

  She held her arm to her chest and her face was etched with pain. I knelt down before her and looked into her eyes. “Agnes, I’m a nurse. Can I look at your hand?”

  Perhaps it was my soft tone or the fact that she was hurting so badly, but she held her arm away from her body. Her hand was curled and her little finger, while it should have been aligned with the others, stuck out to the side at an awkward angle. It was very broken.

  “I’m sure you can see that your finger is broken.”

  “I’ll take you to see Doctor Deeter,” Mr. Thomkins said. Luke, Agnes and I all looked up at the man. He didn’t even want to lower himself to help his wife.

  “Celia is a nurse,” Luke said.

  Thomkins’ eyebrows went up on his pasty face. “A woman to help Agnes? She’s not having a baby. Her finger’s broken.”

  “We can all see that, Thomkins,” Walker snapped. “Let Celia help so Agnes doesn’t have to be in pain longer than necessary.”

  Thomkins pursed her lips.

  “How do I know you’re really a nurse?” he asked me.

  “You don’t,” I countered, then ignored him. Agnes eyed me, but warily. “I am a nurse and I can help you. Let’s go back inside where it’s warmer.”

  I looked to Luke over her shoulder and he nodded. He then deferred to Mr. Thomkins to assist his wife back in the house. Once she was settled on the couch, I sat beside her and carefully held her hand.

  “Your finger is out of joint, not broken. We need to put it back into place.”

  “Will it hurt?” she asked, her voice meek and laced with pain.

  Mr. Thomkins scoffed, but I ignored the tone.

  “Yes,” I told her. She deserved the truth. “Mr. Thomkins, will you allow your wife to have some whiskey?”

  His eyes widened. Until now, I hadn’t realized he had jowls, but they shook and had me noticing the way they wobbled. “Whiskey? Now see here—”

  “She’s not going to corrupt her to the devil’s spirits, just get her numb from the pain,” Walker told him.

  “I do not need whiskey,” Agnes replied. “I’ve delivered three children, one breech.”

  I blanched at the pain she’d gone through. I’d assisted in a number of childbirths to know what a woman went through to deliver a baby, but breech? I cringed and counted her lucky to have survived. Where were the children? With a nanny, grandmother? Or were they old enough to remain alone? Neither Walker nor Luke asked after them, so I had to assume they were fine. I was sure I’d meet them soon enough in a town this small and find out for myself.

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded, then met my eyes. She wasn’t meek now. The pain was something she could control, that she had power over. Unlike her husband’s usual overbearing demeanor, this was her choice.

  “All right. I’m going to pull on your finger so that I can turn it, realign the bones and put it back into place.”

  I didn’t delay, didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. I didn’t count. Just did as I said and quickly reset her finger. She hissed out her breath, but held herself still.

  “All done.” I let out a breath I’d been holding. “Luke?”

  “Yes?” he replied instantly.

  “I need some strips of cloth to bind her fingers together.”

  He turned and left the room.

  Agnes was pale, her lips thinned with pain and sweat dotted her brow, but she was calmer.

  “Your finger should be sore for a few days; keep it immobilized.”

  Luke returned and handed me a thin strip of white cotton. I smiled at him and went about gently wrapping it around her injured finger and the one next to it, tying them together.

  “There.” I offered her a small smile. “That should keep the finger still. Have your husband assist you while you are on icy ground to keep it from happening again.”

  While it sounded as if I were scolding her for going outside on her own, it was a direct barb at Mr. Thomkins for not being a gentleman.

  Agnes stood and held her injured hand with the other in front of her chest. “Thank you, Celia. Welcome to town.”

  Thomkins made a funny sound in the back of his throat. “We are late for dinner.”

  With a backward glance, Agnes offered me a small smile as she was led from the house.

  “At least he’s got hold of her arm now,” Walker said, watching them from the window.

  I moved beside him to watch them and he put an arm about my waist. “That is not a nice man.”

  “That not nice man wants to be mayor,” Walker countered.

  I looked back at Luke, realized he was mayor to keep Mr. Thomkins out. “You have the job solely to keep him from the role?”

  Luke shrugged.

  “You were forced to marry me because of him?”

  I couldn’t help but feel panicked knowing the real reason for our union. He’d told me before, but being in Slate Springs made it so much more real.

  “Yes,” Luke replied honestly. He came up to stand on my other side, surrounded once again by my two men. “What Thomkins will never know is that I owe him a thanks.”

  I frowned, confused.

  “I wouldn’t have you otherwise.”

  “We,” Walker clarified. “We wouldn’t have you otherwise.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Celia

  We woke up to snow. Lots of snow. Just like the blizzard at the top of the pass the other morning. It had been so cold and windy as we crossed and I’d been thankful for being in Walker’s arms. I’d never seen a storm like it before. And now, another. I knew before the season was over, I’d be accustomed to such snow in Slate Springs. Fortunately, I was safely inside and once the banked fires were filled with wood again, the house would be quite warm. I stood at the window as I tugged on Walker’s shirt. Neither man allowed me anything more than socks in bed, but when I did not have to dress fully, I enjoyed the comfortable feel of wearing their clothes. Their shirts smelled like them, their scents reminding me that I belonged to both of them. Ridiculous, yes, but it was comforting.

  “Snow,” Luke muttered fr
om bed. He couldn’t miss the sound of the wind or the whiteout.

  “It’s hauntingly beautiful,” I replied, glancing over my shoulder at my men.

  Luke was on one side, sprawled out on his stomach. An empty space was between them where I’d slept, and Walker was on the far end on his back, his arm over his head. Both men’s bodies were covered to their waists and I reveled in the sight. Only I was the one to see them unkempt like this, to know the real men behind the gentlemanly facade. While they were gentlemen, they were also quite wild and wanton themselves.

  “If we hadn’t heard yesterday the pass was closed, I could confidently say it is now,” Walker added, rubbing a hand over his face. The rasp of his morning whiskers was unmistakable.

  Yes. How could anyone travel in this? If it was this blustery in town, much lower altitude than the pass, then I could only imagine the conditions at the top.

  “I’ll need to go and ensure everyone is following the snow plan.” Luke climbed from bed and pulled clean clothes from his dresser.

  “Snow plan?” I asked, running and hopping back into bed where I knew was still warm from Luke’s body. I pulled the blankets up to my waist as he looked at me over his shoulder and grinned.

  “Ensuring that everyone in town is safe, with enough wood nearby to keep the house warm and don’t have to wander out in the snow,” Luke said. “Some elderly need food delivered. Even tending to animals.”

  “Like Mr. Bernard. Since we’re the closest, I’ll go over and check on him, make sure he has what he needs to make it through the storm,” Walker added.

  I liked the idea, thought it smart for neighbors to check on each other.

  “How long will the storm last?”

  Luke buttoned his shirt. “Couple hours, couple days. We never know.”

  “Miss Esther, she’s eighty-four,” Walker commented. “Her bones ache when a big storm’s coming. She’s the closest we’ve got to weather predictions around here.”