by Mary Burton
“It is getting late. And it’s been a long day,” she agreed.
Lifting her lantern, she moved past him to the barn door. He trailed silently behind her, closing the barn door after they stepped out into the cold night air.
“That lantern stays with the barn.” Without waiting for her response, he took the lantern from her. He blew out the flame and hung it from the peg by the door.
Without the small flickering flame, the night seemed to swallow them up. Clouds had drifted in front of the moon, and she could barely see a foot in front of her. “Then how do you propose we find our way back?”
“I know every root and gulch on my property.”
“I can’t say the same.”
Strong fingers captured her elbow. “Don’t worry, I’m right behind you.”
The warmth of his fingers against hers sent shock waves up her arm. Her mind drifted and for a moment she imagined those same hands caressing the underside of her jaw, unbuttoning her blouse, and touching her naked skin.
Shaking off the image, Abby lifted her skirts and started toward the house, taking one careful step at a time. Icy snow crunched under her feet seconds before she slipped. She fell back hard and would have hit the ground if Mr. Barrington hadn’t had a hold of her.
The ice made regaining her footing all the more difficult. Instinct had her grabbing onto his coat lapels and pulling herself upright. She found herself facing his dimpled chin, her knuckles pressing against his muscled chest. Their lips were only inches apart.
His heart hammered in his chest against her hand. Warm breath brushed her cheek as he angled his face forward a fraction. Desire pulsed in her veins.
Before she thought, she rose up on tiptoe and gripped his sleeves with quivering fingers. Her heart raced and without a thought to propriety, she pressed her lips to his. Her closemouthed kiss was chaste by any standards and she felt awkward as he stood as rigid as a stone, staring down at her with eyes as black as Satan’s. Suddenly, she felt foolish. She scrambled for an apology.
She didn’t need one.
His strong arm banded around her narrow waist and he pulled her against his chest, his arousal pressing into her thigh.
For Matthias, Abby’s chaste kiss was like a spark to dry tinder. Desire flamed in him, scorching his veins with a white-hot need. He gave no thought to the past or the future but only to satisfying a lust thrumming in his veins—the lust he thought had died.
In the pale moonlight, he saw surprise flicker in Abby’s eyes as she looked up at him. She’d never been properly kissed, and he thought for an instant that he’d frightened her and that she’d go stumbling back to the cabin to the safety of her loft. In truth, it would be best for them both.
Instead, she leaned forward, pressing her full breasts against his chest.
As if his body had a will of its own, Matthias slid his hand up her back and cupped her neck in his hand. Fisting a handful of hair, he tugged her head back. Their warm breaths mingled in the chilled night.
The cold night air forgotten, he kissed her on the mouth fully. Moaning, she wrapped her arms around his neck. The fire in his veins burned hotter.
He slid his tongue into her mouth. He explored, demanded, possessed. She tasted as sweet as honey and he was ready to devour her here and now.
She moaned softly as he lowered his hand to her breast and circled the nipple until it formed a hard peak.
He trailed kisses down from her lips to the hollow of her neck. “God help me, but I want you.”
She arched back, moistening her lips with her tongue. “Yes.”
He stared down at her pale face in the dim moonlight. Her breasts pushed against his chest with each ragged breath of hers. Her thighs quivered. White-hot lust surged in his veins and loins.
Consequences be damned. He’d take her back to the barn and on a fresh mound of hay make love to her. His need had grown wild, tormented by too many long nights without a woman.
He kissed her again, nibbling her bottom lip with his teeth as he cupped her full round breast. Frustrated by the fabric that separated him from her bare flesh, he bunched the fabric in his hand, ready to tear it.
The front door to the cabin opened with a bang. “Pa, are you out there?” Quinn’s voice skidded through the night and struck him like a cold blast of air.
As if he’d been doused with a bucket of ice water, he broke the kiss. Still holding Abby, he stared down at her. Her hair was tousled, her lips swollen and her eyes misty with desire from his kiss.
“What the hell are we doing,” he said, his words scraping over his vocal cords.
She blinked, pressing her fingertips to her lips. The clouds faded from her eyes. “I wouldn’t think it needed explanation.”
Releasing her, he shoved his fingers through his hair.
“Pa!” Quinn shouted louder.
“I’ll be right there, Quinn. Shut the door so you don’t let the heat out.”
“Are you coming in soon?”
“Yes, just close the door, son.”
“Okay, Pa.”
When the door slammed shut, Matthias tried to collect the shattered pieces of his composure. His erection still throbbed, a painful reminder of what had almost happened. “I’m sorry.”
Sadness and frustration collided in her eyes. “I’m not.”
“We shouldn’t have done that,” he rasped.
“It’s not a sin to live again.”
In the year since Elise had died he’d lived in limbo. Each day he’d not concentrated on anything more than his boys and just getting through the day. Now in the blink of an eye, he had another woman living under his roof stirring desires so strong they rivaled what he’d felt for Elise.
He’d not done anything wrong, but he couldn’t shake the gnawing guilt in his gut.
He shoved shaky fingers through his hair. Reality and painful memories cooled the remains of his desire. The night’s chill seeped into his bones. “It’s time we got inside.”
“So that’s it?” Her hackles rose and she stiffened. “Don’t you want to talk about what just happened?”
He tightened his jaw so hard he imagined he heard teeth snapping. “No.”
A week later, the sun had warmed the land, banishing the chill. Abby wished it could also melt the chill that had settled between Mr. Barrington and her.
The kiss had shocked them both. For her, she’d not expected her knees to weaken when he’d touched her. She’d not expected her senses to swim when she felt the hunger in his bunched muscles. She’d not expected to want so much.
He’d clearly not anticipated his attraction to her, either. His reaction had angered him. Though he’d not said as much, since that night he’d been overly formal and had kept his distance. Clearly, he’d not wanted to feel anything for her. But he had.
Despite Mr. Barrington’s silence, each time he entered the cabin no matter if she were cooking in the kitchen or lying in her bed at night in the loft, she was aware of him.
His presence filled the cabin. Dominated it. And with each passing day the restlessness she’d felt when he’d kissed her had grown.
Abby punched down the bread dough and sprinkled flour on it. She glanced up out the window and watched the boys playing pick-up sticks, a game she’d fashioned for them out of twigs.
“The stage is coming!” Quinn shouted from the front porch.
Abby looked up from her bread dough out the kitchen window. In the distance the stage, surrounded by a plume of dust, rumbled toward the cabin. She recognized Holden’s coach immediately. “Now what the devil is he doing here?”
Curiosity quickly gave way to excitement at the idea of having a guest. She enjoyed the boys but, after a week living with children and a very silent Mr. Barrington, she welcomed the idea of talking to another person.
She quickly shaped the loaves and set them by the window to rise. Wiping her hands, she moved out onto the front porch next to the boys who both were jumping up and down.
“Mr. McGo
wan is coming, Abby,” Tommy said.
Abby smiled. “I can see that. What do you think brings him out here?”
“Horses,” Quinn said.
“Horses?”
“Pa trades the tired ones for fresh ones,” Quinn said.
“I didn’t know your pa’s house was a stagecoach stop.”
“People never stay long,” Quinn said. “They don’t think Pa is friendly.”
Imagine that.
The stage rolled to a stop in the yard by the corral. Holden set the brake and tied off the reins. He touched the brim of his hat. “I reckon it’s Mrs. Barrington now.”
She lifted an eyebrow, unwilling to show any signs that her life was tipped out of balance. “No, sir, the name is still Smyth.”
Surprise flickered and then he climbed down from the driver’s seat and strode over to the boys. The sun had deepened his skin to a dark brown and the trail had coated his clothes with a fine layer of dust. With the boys so close he guarded his words carefully. “Did I hear right? The name is still Smyth?”
She glanced down at the boys who stared up at Holden with grinning faces. “Yes.”
Holden scratched his head. “I reckon he was M-A-D.” He spelled the word so the boys wouldn’t get the meaning of their conversation.
She wasn’t ready to let this man, who’d been a party to the deception, off the hook so easily. “Oh, yes.”
He paled a fraction. “I reckon he’ll want to have a chat with me.”
“I’m sure he would, but you’re in luck, he usually doesn’t come in until quite late.”
Holden glanced over his shoulder. “I saw Matthias on the trail. He’ll be coming up presently.”
The skin on the back of her neck tingled. She’d not seen Matthias before sunset in over a week. And the idea excited her. She refused to think about how she’d lain awake these last few nights, trying to erase the feel of his hands and lips on her body. “I’m sure he’s got a few choice words.”
“Look, Miss Smyth,” he said, glancing at the boys. “I am sorry if this isn’t working out for you.” The man looked truly distressed and she found it hard to hold on to her anger. “Everybody knows Matthias needs a W-I-F-E and well, you seemed perfect for him.”
“Time will tell.”
His eyes brightened with anticipation. “So it isn’t a lost cause between you two.”
She thought about the kiss. “Not completely.”
His face split into a wide grin. “Good.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out two pieces of licorice. “Mind if I give them to the boys?”
Quinn and Tommy’s smiles were radiant. “Please, please,” they shouted.
“Of course,” she said, unable to deny them the rare treat. Before either could bite into the candy she added, “And what do you say?”
“Thank you.”
The boys hurried off toward a tall poplar tree that often served as their special fort. It gave them some privacy, but it was close enough for her to keep an eye on them from the kitchen window.
“Looks like you might be taming those young fellows,” Holden said.
Her heart warmed as she looked past him and watched Quinn and Tommy comparing their candies. No doubt they were checking to see who had gotten the biggest piece. “They’re good boys.”
“That they are.”
She should be mad at him for the part he had played in this deception. But the truth was that despite the mess of this situation, she’d never felt more alive than she had in the last week. “I should have Mr. Barrington shoot you.”
He grimaced. “He may well do that, anyway.”
She shook her head. “Well, then I best feed you supper first. Can you stay? I’ve a stew on and bread in the oven.”
He grinned, his white even teeth contrasting with his dark skin. “I’d be obliged. It’s been a good while since I had a hot home-cooked meal.”
The idea of company buoyed her sprits. She’d cleaned her grandmother’s tablecloth but with two young children and Matthias to feed, she’d not bothered to set the table with it yet.
“You have any passengers?” It would be nice to see another woman.
“Not this time. Just hauling parcels and supplies for the railroad this time. But rail companies looking to put lines in, I’m willing to bet I’ll be hauling a good many scouts and surveyors sooner than later.”
“Well, if you ever need to stop, you’re welcome any time. I’ve always enjoyed cooking for a crowd.”
He nodded, staring at her with a more serious eye. “I’d be willing to take you up on that. Matthias is always good for fresh horses—has the best stock in the valley—but he or Frank weren’t much for cooking or welcoming strangers. We always stayed just long enough to change our horses.”
She remembered her very long ride into town. “The day I arrived we didn’t stop here.”
He rubbed his chin, ducking his head. “I thought it best we take a different route that day. Seemed only fair to you that you meet Matthias in town. Just in case.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Just in case he sent me packing?”
“He can dig his heels in when he don’t want to do something.”
“Yes, I’ve learned that about him.”
“Well, he must like you, because he doesn’t waste a moment on people he doesn’t like.”
“For now our arrangement is strictly business. I’m broke and he needs a housekeeper. After his roundup, he pays me twenty-five dollars and then I can buy a ticket to someplace else. You and Mrs. Clements and the others have backed him into a neat little corner.”
Holden laughed. “Nobody ever backs Matthias Barrington into a corner. The man does what he pleases. If he didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here.”
If he weren’t a guest or if she knew him better, she’d have pressed him for more details. Instead she nodded toward the house. “Come inside. Sit. I made a pie this morning.”
Pulling off his hat, Holden followed her into the cabin. He glanced around, amazed. “I wouldn’t have recognized the place.”
In the last week, she’d mended the laundry, dusted every piece of furniture and swept the floor. “It took some doing to put the place into order.”
She sliced a piece of sweet potato pie and poured a glass of milk, setting both on the table in front of him. Before she sat, she took a quick glance out the window toward the boys. Licorice cords in their mouths, they were lying on their backs, staring at the clouds, their feet propped up on the tree.
She handed him a fork. “Please eat up. You must be starved after the long ride from Butte.”
He dug into the pie. “I swear if I had to dip another piece of hard tack into a plate of beans, I’m sure I’d go crazy.” He put the piece of pie in his mouth. He closed his eyes and for a moment seemed lost in ecstasy. “Ma’am, if the rest of your cooking tastes as good as this, I’ll be stopping by regularly with passengers.”
The idea of seeing people regularly made her smile. She enjoyed the boys but sorely missed adult conversation. “Guests are always welcome.”
He wiped crumbs from his mouth with a napkin. “Well, you just make sure you charge them for your services.”
“Charge?”
He ate another piece of pie. “Yes, ma’am. A dollar a meal.”
She laughed. “That’s outrageous. I could buy three meals for that in San Francisco.”
“This isn’t the city. Not to men who’ve not had a decent meal or a woman’s touch in their lives in months.” He ate another bite of pie. “Miss Smyth, you’re going to make a fortune.”
Mr. Barrington’s purposeful footsteps sounded on the front porch and in the next instant his large frame blocked the front door. The top four buttons of his shirt were open, revealing chest hair curling with sweat. The sight of him made her heart miss a beat.
And she’d have smiled a greeting if he didn’t look angry enough to spit nails. “Holden, you got to the count of three to get out of my house before I shoot you.”
Chapter Nine
Murderous thoughts shot through Matthias when he’d first seen Holden’s carriage ride over the horizon. He and Abby were in this mess together because of his friend’s meddling. But when he’d strode onto his own front porch and heard the laughter and joy in Abby’s laugh, anger turned to jealousy.
In the week she’d been here, he’d seen her smile at the boys but he’d not heard her laugh. Her laughter rang as sweet as church bells, filling the cabin with life.
Though he’d done his best to keep his distance, he still noted the changes she conjured each day. Abby had filled the lifeless cabin with an energy it had never possessed. No longer a solemn place he dreaded returning to each night.
All were good reasons, in his mind, to keep his distance. He didn’t want to need her. Add to that the attraction that sizzled in his veins each time he saw her, and he had an explosive mix that was sure to blow up in his face sooner or later.
But he’d vowed to keep his hands to himself. His arrangement with Abby was temporary. And he’d be damned before he let lust or loneliness bind her to this harsh and fickle land.
Holden was a good man—they’d been friends of five years and he’d helped him through the darkest days after Elise’s death. But Abby wasn’t right for him.
As Matthias shoved through his front door he noticed Abby first. She sat at the table across from Holden, her eyes sparkling with laughter, her hair in a long braid that draped between her full breasts. The sun had lightened her hair and added color to her cheeks, making her look almost radiant. Damn, but he could feel himself growing hard just looking at her.
Color rose in her cheeks as if she could read his thoughts. “You’re home early, Mr. Barrington.”
He cleared his throat. “I saw the stage.”
With a great effort, he tore his gaze from Abby and settled it on Holden. He had to remind himself he was angry with his old friend. “If you had any good sense, you’d stay clear of my property after what you and Mrs. Clements did.”
Holden, who sat in his chair at the dinner table, glanced up from his half-eaten piece of pie. “I figured if you hadn’t cooled off after a week you’d never cool off. Plus I wanted to make sure Miss Abby was faring well.”