She almost laughed at the stricken look on Dustin’s face.
“I can’t accept that! I would have taken you there myself days ago if I’d known you wanted to go. Hog-tied you if you refused, and then thrown you over my shoulder.”
“I wouldn’t have accepted, and you know it.” She pulled back her shoulders and lifted her chin. “And I still won’t, so you may as well save your breath. Taking your charity goes against everything I am, but that doesn’t mean I can’t treat you. Please, Dustin, it’s the least I can do for all you’ve done for me, and Noah. Let me do this one little thing. If you don’t, you’ll force me to take supper by myself. Surely, one of the perfect Knutson girls would see me and have more to chatter about.”
He edged his horse closer, reached over, and brushed a lock of hair out of her face.
“Nothin’ doing. We go, and I pay. I won’t hear another word. A McCutcheon would never allow a woman to pay the bill. As big as I am and as little as my mama is, she’d still have my hide.”
So close, his moving lips caught her gaze, and she had to force herself to look away.
“I don’t care,” she said, a bit breathless. “If you can ruin my reputation by kissing me in front of three scaredy-cat Easterners—”
“Midwesterners, Sidney. Don’t you know your geography? Wisconsin is practically—”
“Don’t change the subject on me, McCutcheon. I know what you’re up to.”
He chuckled.
“Anyway—I was saying,” she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted, “since the kiss and the ruination of my character, you can at least allow me to invite you out and pay the bill. Shift a little of that shame over to you. Dustin McCutcheon being kept by a woman. Imagine that.”
She laughed, enjoying the easy feel of the afternoon. “Women are getting some rights, you know. In Wyoming Territory, they’ve been voting since 1869. Someday New Mexico Territory and Texas will get the vote too. Women’ll be just as equal as men.”
“That’ll be the day!”
The twinkle in his dark eyes brought more warm shivers, and a longing she wasn’t able to ignore.
“Women have three places, and three places only. At least the woman I envision marrying someday . . .”
She reined her horse to a stop, and the gelding she was leading dutifully stumbled to a halt by her side. She sat there as Dustin continued on for a few more strides before stopping.
He looked back with his crooked smile.
“And where is that, pray tell? I can’t imagine you brought up a topic like that unless you mean to tell me.”
Without a word, he stepped off his horse in one fluid movement and stalked her way. His smile was gone, and the fire in his eyes set off a cascade of tingles everywhere.
In five strides, he was at her side. He circled her waist with both hands and lifted her from the saddle before lowering her to the ground, but kept her captured between him and her horse.
She’d never felt so small, so desired. One thing was on Dustin McCutcheon’s mind, and she wished he’d hurry up and get to it. Heat rippled through her body, sending all kinds of longings that kindled a fire within.
His hands still on her waist, he drew her to him, never relinquishing her gaze.
“Do you really want to know, Calhoun? You may regret the answer I give.” His question was almost lost on the breeze.
“I do.” She swallowed, anticipating what was to come.
He gently removed her hat and set it on her saddle. “My wife’s place will be ranching by my side, in my arms, and in my bed.” He lowered his lips to hers, nudging her until her back was against the side of her horse.
The scent of warm hide mixed with Dustin’s unique essence had her almost limp with want. Who knew his large hands could be so gentle? They circled behind her head and lightly slipped the band off her ponytail, releasing her hair. He tipped her head, gaining better access to her mouth as his fingers slid through her long mane.
“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” he whispered against her mouth. “And this.” He turned his head the other way, gathering her closer.
When she thought she might expire from the pleasure, she felt him kiss his way to her neck, as if staking his claim on her person. She strained upward, wanting more, causing her breath to gasp in an embarrassing gulp of air.
Tension crackled along her shoulders and down her back. Only one other man aside from her father and brothers had ever kissed her, and the act was nothing even remotely close to what she was doing now. Gibson Harp had stolen a kiss once in the back of his mercantile while he was showing her a new display of pans. His moist, plump lips had left her cold, and even a bit disgusted.
Dustin’s firm, scratchy lips asked sweetly for more.
Unable to stop herself, she shamelessly pressed her body to his and slid her arms around his neck. At her encouragement, he pulled her closer still, until she was as near to his powerful body as she could get without divesting herself of her clothes. He left no doubt where his thoughts were headed.
“Dustin,” she forced out through her heavy breathing. His hands were now trailing sensations up and down her sides in a dangerous seduction. “Dustin,” she tried again. “This is crazy. We’re playing with fire. We know this can’t—”
“We know nothing!” he said, his tone cutting through her haze of desire. “It’s our fathers’ war, not ours.”
Dustin took her face in both his hands, his forehead tipped against hers as he let his breathing slow. He gazed into her eyes so long, she felt light-headed.
“Sidney, I love you. God help me, I do. And if you’d let the past go for just one instant, you’d say the same to me. You’re just scared. Frightened of your feelings and of your family, and what they’ll think when you tell them you love Dustin McCutcheon. This is our life, Sidney, not theirs. That’s what you have to remember.”
As if not willing to stop just yet, he found her lips with his, silencing her words of caution.
He’s right, she thought. I don’t want to live without Dustin. He’s my heart and soul. My everything.
“Say it, darlin’,” he whispered. “Say it so I can hear your words. Say you love me too. Say you’ll be mine forever.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Standing at the edge of the watering pond in their northern pasture, Chaim gazed at the pool of water as the swirls of mud disappeared down the small set of rapids they’d just cleared. His pants were soaked up to his thighs.
“That didn’t take as long as I expected,” he said to Brick and Noah, who were already mounted and ready to head back to the ranch.
Chaim pulled on his jacket, his fingers moving over the buttons by rote, his thoughts lost in Boston. Emmeline. And the letter he’d yet to receive.
“He looks none too pleased,” Brick said, gesturing to the far bank where a hefty beaver paced back and forth, distraught his home had been destroyed.
A pang of sympathy for the homely critter with the paddle-like tail ran through Chaim. Every few steps, the large beaver bared his long orange teeth in their direction—although he’d run off fast enough if one of the men stepped his way. The descending sun caused his wet, messy-looking fur to glisten temptingly. No wonder the animals had almost been hunted to extinction.
Chaim didn’t have the volition to kill it, even though that was the only way to make sure he didn’t rebuild.
“Couldn’t be helped,” he said mostly to himself, as if assuaging his own guilty conscience for the ruin of the dam and beaver hut that had dwindled the runoff to a trickle. “The water holes downstream should be back to normal in a few days. We’ll have to keep an eye on him, though, to make sure he moves on and doesn’t rebuild.”
“Absolutely,” Brick said. “Cattle don’t take long to die of thirst.”
With nothing left to do, Chaim walked to his horse and took his reins from Noah. If camping out could be accomplished without raising questions from his family, he’d pack up and spend time away. Facing another sl
eepless night within the four walls of his bedroom had him jittery. The space felt like a prison, a cell, not home, not a place where he was loved and where his destiny lay.
He couldn’t do it. He’d have to think of a way to get out under the stars, where the fresh air could calm his racing heart. Where he wouldn’t have Madeline and Becky asking about Emmeline every other minute, or his mother’s gaze following him with concern. If not, he was sure his head would explode from the relentless dissecting of Emmeline’s last few days on the ranch, and the facts she’d fed him before she’d walked out of his life for good.
You’re jumping to conclusions! Just last month, Pa received a post that was over four months old. A letter may be on its way. Chaim hardened his heart against false hope. She should have answered my telegram by now.
“Ready, boss?”
Brick’s quiet voice snapped Chaim out of his thoughts.
Embarrassed for mounting and then proceeding to sit there like a statue staring at the water, he reined around his horse.
“Sure,” he said. “Let’s get home.”
Home. Would his home ever feel right again? He didn’t think so, not unless his fears turned out to be just that, and Emmeline returned.
The sound of galloping hooves filtered into Dustin’s awareness, but finally having Sidney in his arms, where she belonged, had his head light and mind spinning. He pulled her closer, loath to give up her sweet lips.
“I do love you, Dustin. As God as my witness, I tried not to. The harder I fought the feeling, the further I fell. My heart didn’t believe a word I was saying.”
He’d dreamed of this moment since the day he snatched her off the sandy loam of the badlands and she’d ridden so fiercely behind his saddle, shooting at the outlaws. They didn’t come much braver than Sidney Calhoun. How could he convince her the hurdle their fathers had created was conquerable, if they stuck together? Alone, they couldn’t do it, but together, anything was possible.
She stiffened in his arms. “Dustin!”
The alarm in her voice snapped him straight. Men’s voices, horses snorting, and the sudden silence of their hoofbeats made him swing around and draw his gun, ready to kill anyone to defend his love.
“Don’t shoot!” Chaim shouted from thirty feet away.
Brick Paulson rode beside him, but the look on Noah’s face was stuck in Dustin’s head. He holstered his gun, relieved Comancheros hadn’t ventured too close to Rio Wells.
“What the hell!” Noah barked, riding forward. His angry gaze darted between him and his sister. “Is this how you look out for her, McCutcheon?” He glanced around. “You out here alone? What were your plans, to take her here right under the clear blue sky?”
For the most part, Noah had behaved, did what he was told, and kept his thoughts to himself. This was the most belligerent and nasty the lad had been since the scene at the showers.
Dustin stayed his impulse of pulling him off his horse, only because he knew Sidney’s brother was partly right. He’d had an ulterior motive when he asked Sidney to ride out today.
Guilty as charged.
“Stop!” Sidney shouted. “Don’t make trouble where there isn’t any.”
“Isn’t any? I think Pa and the rest might argue that point a bit, don’t you?” The angry question was thrown at her with vengeance.
She pulled her shoulders back and pointed at her brother. “I’m a grown woman. I can do as I please.”
As much as Noah’s commanding tone bothered him, Dustin didn’t want to take this any further today. The prudent thing would be to mount up, and they’d all ride into town together. Address this when they were all cooler, and more willing to listen. The last thing he wanted was for Noah to sway Sidney away.
He took her elbow but she gently pulled away, her eyes sad.
Just a small setback, he told himself. I won’t let Noah derail my plans—our plans.
They mounted and were in front of the hotel in a handful of minutes.
Dustin glanced at Chaim, who hadn’t said a word since the initial don’t shoot. “I’ll walk Sidney up. You can ride on.”
“I’m not leaving here without you, McCutcheon,” Noah said in a low voice.
“Fine. Give me one minute.”
Sidney dismounted, her movements slow.
“Don’t worry about your horse,” Dustin said calmly. “I’ll take him by the livery when I return the mare.”
He saw her nod, although she seemed to be lost in a thoughtful daze.
She looked once more at Noah, and then they quietly entered the hotel. Without a word, she got the key from the clerk, and they proceeded up the stairs.
She stopped in front of the door. “What happened was a—”
“Don’t you dare say it was a mistake,” Dustin warned, unwilling to let her backslide even a little.
With her hat in her hands, she leaned against the door.
Surely, she was mixed up. She still believed his pa had set up her father. He had to find a way to prove Winston’s innocence.
“We’ll get around this,” he told her. “And the past.”
She shook her head. “I don’t see that happening, Dustin. As much as it hurts me to admit—”
“Would you stop, please. I’m not letting something small like a twenty-year feud stop me from marrying the woman I love.”
Her eyes went wide. “My father’s only alive by—”
“That’s not true! You’ll have to trust me until I can come up with proof. I know that’s asking a lot, but will you at least try?”
She stood silent, her gaze on the floor.
“Sidney?”
When he saw her nod, he heaved a deep sigh.
“Thank you. Now,” he whispered, wanting her complete attention, “we were a bit distracted back there before I got to the good part, so I’m going there now. You’re the only woman for me, Sidney. The only one I want ranching at my side, in my arms, and in my—”
She stopped him with a palm over his heart.
He chuckled. “I love you. That’s all that matters.” He tipped her head, seeing everything he needed in her eyes, but he had to hear the words cross her lips again—so she’d have to come to terms with them herself. “I guess your feelings matter some too. Do you love me, Sidney? Would you consider being my wife?”
A sad look dulled her eyes. His admission apparently had her scared, plus his questions. He’d liked to have gone slower, courted her like the lady she was, but their situation didn’t allow for that.
“Sidney?”
Had he read her wrong? Dreamed up the whole thing out of his wishful thinking?
“Yes, I love you. And the thought of becoming Mrs. Dustin McCutcheon is, well, the most wonderful thought in the world.” She slowly shook her head. “But I can’t see us working. Not even for a minute. Not with my pa and yours.”
Relief flooded through him and he smiled. That was the only hurdle he couldn’t have conquered—if she’d said no. For now, if he didn’t head downstairs soon, he knew Noah would come looking. Still, he had things he needed to say before he left.
“I’m not scared,” he said softly. “Not of your family, and not of mine. They’ll just have to come to terms.” He put his forehead to hers. “And I’m not afraid of you changing your mind. You’re brave and strong. You know as well as I do that nothing worth having comes easy. There’s a price to pay for everything on this earth.”
Unable to resist, he pressed a kiss to her lips. “We’ll weather this storm, and we’ll come out all the stronger. You’ll see. I’m telling my family tonight, if that’s all right with you.”
She just stared at him, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Fine then, consider it done.”
He took the key from her hand and unlocked her door, letting the barrier swing open. She stepped away and glanced back, and a lance of uncertainty sliced him through.
Would things really work out? He was not nearly as confident as the words he’d just pro
claimed.
Chapter Forty-Six
Three hours later and dressed for supper, Dustin paced the length of the living room with a crystal tumbler in his hand, waiting for the rest of his family to arrive as he played over the events of the day. He’d break the news about the marriage and let them gentle into that thought.
He wouldn’t say anything yet about searching for the Harris brothers. Or clearing the McCutcheon name. Those little gems he’d save for later, after his parents got used to the idea of having a Calhoun for a daughter-in-law.
“Dustin, you’re here early,” Winston said, striding into the room and moving to the sideboard where bottles of various brands of expensive bourbon and whiskey sat on a silver-plated tray. He poured himself a glass and took a swig. Being today was Saturday, his father had taken the extra time to comb his hair and change his workpants. On workdays, that didn’t always happen.
Dustin swallowed. He’d had big words for Sidney earlier today, but now he dreaded the thought of breaking his father’s heart.
A long-suffering sigh escaped Winston’s lips as he set down the tumbler. “I’m gettin’ old, Dustin,” he said, stretching his back. “Little aches and pains never bothered me before. Now they’re the only thing on my mind.”
Winston smiled, totally unaware of the cannonball Dustin was about to drop on the family. “So, did you have a good day, son? What did you do? I saw you didn’t ride out with Chaim and Manolito.”
Dustin noted how he ignored the fact Noah had been in the group.
Saving him from answering, his mother breezed into the room, looking lovely. She went over to her husband and pulled him down so she could kiss his cheek.
“I don’t know why, but I’m feeling very sentimental tonight.” She smiled at Dustin. “I’m glad you’re home for supper, Dustin. Dinners together seem fewer and fewer as my children grow up and take on lives of their own. I’ll be sad when everyone is moved out into their own places.”
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