Lonesome Bride

by Megan Hart

  Fortunately, Jed caught her before she could hit the ground. As he suddenly found himself with an armful of fragrant, wriggling woman, Jed's heart hammered in his chest. Caite struggled against him, trying to stand on her own. Every move she made pressed her against him, until he thought he might burst from the exquisite torture of it. For a heart-stopping moment, as she realized she was not going to disentangle herself from his grip so easily, Caite's emerald eyes met Jed's matching ones.

  Realizing as his gaze searched Caite's that he was lost, Jed groaned and crushed his lips to hers. Her mouth had opened in a tiny moue of surprise, and his tongue darted out to explore the heady sweetness within. Without pulling his mouth away, Jed plunged his hands into the fiery depths of auburn coiled atop Caite's head. In a shower of hairpins, her hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders. Her tresses were like silk against his fingers. Lilac-scented silk. She was irresistible.

  Letting his fingers run again and again through the silk of her hair, Jed kept his mouth slanted against Caite's until he could no longer breathe. When he pulled away to take in a gasp of air still filled with the scent of her, Jed found himself nose to nose with the most bewitching and enticing woman he had ever met.

  Caitleen's gaze was glazed, but she was smiling at him. Running the tip of her tempting pink tongue over her kiss-swollen lips, she said, “My goodness, Mr. Peters, if I'd know what would happen when I fell, I might have jumped."

  Her teasing words were like a dash of cold water on his lust-heated skin. She should have resisted him, slapped his face and called him some more names. She most definitely should not be joking with him. What was he doing kissing her, anyway? This was his father's bride-to-be. Even if that little fact didn't seem to bother her, it sure as heck bothered him.

  Abruptly, Jed pushed her an arm's length away. His gaze raked over her from head to foot, capturing her hair tumbled all about and her skirts half raised to show her knees. His lust turned immediately to self-loathing, coupled with scorn for a woman who would submit to the kisses of a man who wasn't her husband. If he was a scapegrace for giving in to his lust, then what was she? Knitting his brows together and stalking away from her, he ran his fingers through his dark hair in an impatient gesture.

  "What do you think you were doing, allowing me to kiss you like that?” he growled. “Look at you with your hat off again! And your hair straggling all over the place! What kind of morals do you have anyway, Miss O'Neal? Were you raised in a cathouse?"

  At this long and impassioned speech, the longest she had ever heard from him, Caite blanched. Then, two spots of hot color began to rise high upon her cheeks. With trembling fingers, she began to tuck stray strands of hair back into place and to smooth the rumpled material of her clothes. She looked as though she might retch, and Jed's own stomach turned to knots. First, he had created an impossible situation by kissing her, then he had made it worse by yelling at her. He didn't know whether to apologize for the kiss or for the shouting. He decided to do neither.

  While Caite rearranged her clothes and hair, Jed stormed to the back of the wagon. Throwing supplies carelessly onto the ground, he began to set up camp. Tossing a few blankets to one side and a few more on the other, he realized he was in no condition to do the job. He had to get himself under control.

  Jed could not believe a few paltry kisses had affected him so much. Except they weren't very paltry, he admitted to himself. Lord, every step he took pinched and rubbed him in places he definitely did not need any more stimulation. His breath felt thick in his lungs. Caitleen O'Neal had to be a demon—she must be. It wasn't as though he'd never had a woman before! Just not one with silky auburn hair, tantalizing green eyes, and a body that seemed to beg for his caresses.

  "I do not understand,” Caitleen said miserably, quietly. She had finished her ablutions, but had not moved from her spot. “I thought you wanted to kiss me."

  Jed whirled to face her, his own emotions in an uproar. “What difference would it make if I wanted to kiss you or not?"

  Caite flinched but did not retreat. She replied dully, “I thought it would please you if I kissed you back, so I did. I was only trying to please you, Jed."

  Her soft reply and obvious hurt provoked Jed even further. A thought suddenly occurred to him. “How many other men have you ‘pleased’ this way, I'd like to know!"

  Caite met his gaze with the look of a startled doe and flushed. Jed took her blush for admittance of her indiscretions. That explained everything, then. “So you have done this before!"

  "No, I..."

  "Oh, don't deny it, Miss Prissy, I'm-Too-Good-to-Sleep-On-the-Ground, Pennsylvania O'Neal! How many others have you played this with, that's what I want to know!"

  Caite's blush grew deeper until her entire face and neck were crimson with emotion. “I swear to you, Jed, I never—"

  Jed did not wait for her to finish. “I reckon I can see why you decided to sell yourself into marriage with a stranger."

  Caite crumpled against the wagon, breath catching in her throat. She raised unsteady fingers to her still kiss-swollen mouth. Tears welled in her luminous green eyes and began to wend their way down her flushed, perfect cheeks.

  "But you kissed me,” she whispered.

  "You should've stopped me,” Jed snapped.

  Caite's wet eyes met his, and this time she did not look away. She didn't point out to him that he was much stronger than she, and she could have done very little to stop him should he have decided to keep kissing her.

  Jed saw that knowledge in her eyes, however, and cursed himself. He knew he was wrong for berating her, even if the knowledge she was no innocent had strangely upset him. Why should he care if she had given herself to one or a dozen other men? That was not his concern. He was angry with himself for allowing her beauty to tempt him into almost betraying his father. That she had done nothing to overtly encourage his kiss only made him feel worse.

  Pride would not allow him to admit his mistake, however. Also, by shoving her away with words, he could guarantee she wouldn't end up in his arms again. He would have to keep her angry with him for the rest of the trip. She might end up hating him, but he didn't need her affection anyway. She was coming to Heatherfield to marry his father, not him.

  "It's time to get set up,” Jed declared gruffly.

  Caite nodded, tiny shining tears slipping down her cheeks and catching the late afternoon sun like diamonds.

  "I'll get started with the heavy stuff. Why don't you get supper ready?” He turned on his heel and walked away from her.

  * * * *

  Caitleen nodded numbly at Jed's suggestion. Bending slowly, for she felt she might just slump to the ground and stay there, she reached for her hat and placed it back on her head. Jed's words had cut her deeply. How could he accuse her of being a fallen woman? Yes, she had given in to his kiss, and had thoroughly enjoyed it. But they were going to be married. It was not as if she has allowed a complete stranger to place his hands on her.

  She allowed herself, for one brief moment, to recall the sensations Jed's kiss had awakened in her. He tasted like wood smoke and sunlight, and his probing tongue had caused shivers of delight to run up and down her spine like dancing fairies. The few pecks she had shared with Billy Worthe behind the carriage house had not prepared her for a real man's touch.

  Shaking off her recall of Jed's kiss, Caite forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until she was walking to where he had thrown the food basket. As she bent to begin unpacking it, however, her knees gave way and she sank to the ground. Ashamed, but unable to help herself, Caite buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Pressing her knuckles against her teeth so hard they nearly bled, she attempted to keep her moans as silent as possible. She did not want Jed to know she was crying.

  He doesn't deserve to see my tears, she told herself fiercely. Even if he had caused them.

  Slowly, by sheer force of will, Caite managed to control herself. Scrubbing her face with the hem of her skirt
, she concentrated on taking deep breaths until she could breathe normally. Jed's accusations raced through her mind, but she forced herself to disregard them.

  Obviously, he expected his bride to behave in a certain manner. Maybe he was testing her. I might hate his methods, Caite thought grimly, but I have little choice. It was him or Drake Hammond, and Jed Peters still seemed the lesser of two evils.

  Not matter how difficult it would be, she vowed to keep her temper. I'll be as sweet and innocent as a newborn lamb, she thought vehemently. She would pass his stupid tests, and any others he threw at her.

  Working efficiently, Caite soon had spread a blanket with an assortment of delicious looking food. As she carefully arranged the plates and put the last touches on the slices of meat and pie, she once more forced herself to breathe deeply. In, out. In, out. There. She was calm now. Plastering a cheery smile on her face, she called for Jed. “The food is ready!"

  "Good thing, too,” Jed boomed with false heartiness, striding over. “I'm starving."

  "Well, there certainly's plenty more where this came from,” Caite noted, peeping into the basket. The sight of all that food had nearly restored her good humor, and she favored Jed with a broad grin. “You must've been expecting quite a woman."

  For a moment, Jed stared at her, brows knitted.

  "Is something wrong, Jed?” Caite asked, at a loss as to what could have upset him now. Truth be told, she was becoming a trifle weary with his moodiness. “Is there something else you would like?"

  "No, everything looks fine,” he said gruffly. “Let's just eat."

  They munched in silence for a while. Caitleen tucked in heartily, polishing off a slice of roast beef and two legs in the time it took Jed to finish his first piece of chicken. As he watched, Caite began her third drumstick, chewing away and alternating bites with some of the good sourdough biscuits. Despite wiping her mouth between every bite, her appetite was more lumberjack than lady.

  Catching Jed's stare of amazement, Caitleen stopped chewing and swallowed heavily. “Is there something on my face?"

  Jed looked chagrined she had caught him staring. Shaking his head roughly, he began gnawing his own drumstick with fervor. Caite continued to look at him quizzically. Jed swallowed his own mouthful and waved his chicken bone at the remains of her meal.

  "You eat more than I would've expected, that's all."

  Caite looked at the desiccated remains in front of her and smiled ruefully. “I suppose I must seem a frightful hog. You see, I haven't had the pleasure of eating so well in quite some time."

  "Why not?"

  "I told you that after my mother died,” Caite began, “my Da began gambling away everything we owned. His holdings were the first to go, of course, but it was not long before what my mother had brought to their marriage was lost as well. I suppose I could justify his behavior by saying he was distraught with grief over losing the woman he loved, and I suppose that is true. However, nothing excuses the way he frittered away everything we had, every memory of my mother."

  She paused for a long moment. “In recent years, his gambling has worsened considerably. We have nearly nothing left except the house. We had to let nearly all the servants go, and, of course, the household budget was severely curtailed. I think I've lived on beef stew for months. This food is heavenly, but I do apologize for making a glutton of myself."

  "It sounds like you deserve to make a glutton of yourself,” Jed replied. He shoved the tin of apple pie toward her. “Here, have yourself a slice."

  Caite laughed, holding her stomach in protest and waving away the proffered pie. “Good mercy, no! I could not possibly!"

  "You know you want to.” Jed grinned, pushing the pie even closer to her. “It's just calling your name, Caitleen O'Neal. Can't you hear the little voices saying ‘Eat me! Eat me!’”

  Caite giggled, grabbed a knife and began slicing the sumptuous looking dessert. “Well, maybe just a tiny slice."

  Two pieces for each of them later, Caite burped contentedly and sighed. In a slow drawl that imitated him, she said, “I reckon that was the best meal I've eaten in a mighty long time."

  "Maybe I'll fatten you up yet,” Jed replied, grinning. He stretched out beside her on the blanket. His mood had turned pleasant for a change.

  Caite stretched and yawned, tipping her head back to gaze at the rapidly darkening sky. “Twilight comes quickly here."

  "It sure does. In a little while, the stars'll come out. You won't have seen stars like that before, I reckon. Not back East anyway. The sky looks like black velvet with diamonds sewn all through it."

  Caite looked at him. “You love it here."

  "I'd never trade it for anything,” Jed agreed. He cradled his hands behind his head, relishing the last few moments of relaxation before he would have to build the night's fire.

  "I'd give anything for a hot bath and a soft bed,” Caite declared, stretching so all the tiny bones in her back crackled like breaking ice.

  Her words seemed to slap away Jed's good humor. He scowled, getting to his feet and gathering some brush for the fire. He didn't look at her.

  "There's a stream just over there,” he said gruffly. “You can go have a dip, if you like."

  He gets angry so quickly, Caite thought. She tried to restore the earlier light mood. “I don't suppose the water will be hot?"

  Jed looked as though he were going to snap at her again, then saw she was joking and relaxed.

  "It's just over that way.” He pointed. The stream ran just below the knoll where they had eaten. “You won't be very far away. The moon's coming up, and you'll have plenty of light to see. I'll be right here."

  Caite got to her feet, brushed her skirts and busied herself with once again putting the food back into the basket. “I think I shall do just that, Jed. I need to get rid of some of this road dust. Today was so hot, I believe I will relish a dip, even if the water is icy."

  After she had cleared away the remains of supper, Caite gathered her bathing necessities from her trunk and went to the stream. Not very deep, it burbled and chuckled its way past her and around a bend. Placing her towel, soap and hairbrush on a convenient rock, Caite carefully began undoing the many buttons on the front of her now-begrimed traveling dress.

  Sewn from blue serge, the material was heavy and she was relieved to rid herself of the overjacket and ankle-length skirt. When she was down to her white linen chemise, she paused. Glancing to the top of the knoll where she could just discern the glow of the campfire, Caite decided to risk removing everything. She sincerely doubted Jed would make his way down there. If he could hardly bear to see her without a hat, he would never risk seeing her in the altogether.

  With that decided, she shucked off the chemise and stretched gloriously in the night air. The moon was just beginning to peep over the horizon, and silver tinged the landscape everywhere. Caite felt very naughty as a slight breeze caressed her bare skin, teasing her nipples erect and raising goosebumps on her arms.

  "No sense in waiting,” she muttered grimly to herself, fearing the chill of the water. Before she could change her mind, she plunged into the stream up to her knees. Letting out a gasp of surprise, Caite sank until the water came up to her chin. After the initial shock, the stream was very pleasant. As the day's dust sloughed off her, she wriggled in delight. It felt so good to be clean!

  Wading back to the edge of the stream, she plucked her lilac-scented soap from the rock and then went back to the deeper water. Caitleen hummed as she soaped herself luxuriously from head to toe, sinking into the water periodically to rinse. She even took the time to scrub the full length of her hair until it squeaked. When she had thoroughly rinsed away the last bit of soap, Caite again waded back to the edge and began to dry herself.

  The night was cooler than the day had been, but not unpleasantly so. She would dry in no time. She sat on the rock, towel loose around her hips, and began combing out her waist-length mass of auburn curls. Being clean made her feel almost like a new per
son. She could nearly forget all the bad things that had happened today—even being accused of immoral behavior. There was nothing better than a cool dip after a hot day, although a long, hot soak in a scented tub would have been nice, too.

  She only hoped that when she returned to camp Jed would not spoil her mood with another angry outburst. She just wanted to hold onto her sense of well-being for the night.

  * * * *

  Jed stared at the water nymph outlined in silver below him. His chest felt tight and his breath grew short as he devoured the sight of Caite, hair unbound and pale skin glowing in the moonlight. The sound of her happy, tuneless humming wafted to him on the breeze, and he caught the scent of her. He groaned. Before he knew what he was doing, he had stumbled down the short hill to stand in front of her.

  He had no accusations this time. He did not trust his voice. Instead, he merely grasped Caite by the upper arms and pulled her upward until she was standing. Keeping his gaze locked on her emerald eyes, wide with surprise, he groped for the towel on which she had been sitting. Finding the square of material with his fingers, he quickly wrapped the cloth around her until she was somewhat covered.

  "You should be more careful,” he whispered hoarsely. “You might catch a chill."

  Caitleen rubbed her arms self-consciously.

  Perhaps his grip had hurt her. Jed forced his fingers to release her, noting with some dismay the red marks they had left on her creamy flesh.

  "It is a warm night, Jed,” she said gently.

  "You don't know this area, Miss O'Neal,” retorted Jed. His protests sounded weak even to him. “The night air can be dangerous."

  Caite pulled the towel closer about herself. “I will be more careful. Thank you for the warning."

  "I don't want you catching sick,” Jed continued. Talking was the only way to keep from crushing his mouth down on hers. Tarnation! The way she was staring at him, wide-eyed and still wet from her bath, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and taste every part of her.