“Yes, sir. Have a pleasant walk, Mr. Bartel. Oh, and if you’re thinking of going over to Ally’s Place to eat or something, I wouldn’t. She closes around eight every night, and it’s now eight-thirty. The restaurant does have very good food, I’m told. Perhaps you could go there for breakfast and have a look at Mrs. Mills to make sure she isn’t the person you knew.”
“Thank you for the advice, Mrs. Deacon.”
Bartel left, his thin lips pressing into a wicked smile. So, Allyson Mills was right here in Guthrie! How could he not have thought of that in the first place? After all, she and Toby had run off the train into the middle of the crowd waiting at Arkansas City to join in the land rush. With the money they had stolen from him, they could have bought the supplies they needed to get started. Allyson was an intelligent, resourceful girl, and had apparently decided to start her own business. Too bad it had cost poor Toby his life, but then at least he was rid of one of them. Now there was just Allyson, with no brother to defend her.
Husband and wife! He laughed out loud at the thought of it. They must have thought making people think they were married would help them seem older, maybe give them an edge in claiming their lots. Whatever the reason, it had apparently worked. “But not for long,” he muttered. Allyson Mills was a little thief, an orphan, not married, and certainly not eighteen when she claimed those lots. Her claim was illegal! What better way to repay her for what she had done than to destroy her business. The little witch probably thought she had been very clever, must be revelling in her success; but if he had anything to do with it, that success was going to be short-lived!
He knew now where he would walk. Mrs. Deacon had said Ally’s Place was closed by now, and people were probably sleeping peacefully in their rooms. Fine. He didn’t want to give Allyson Mills any warning anyway. She was going to get a surprise visit in the morning. Just the look on her face would tell the authorities all they needed to know. He headed for the land office, which was kept open all through the night because of continued claims and disputes. This one would be a humdinger, and “sweet” little Allyson Mills would be found out for what she really was! She’d learn quick enough how fast people would turn away when they know they’ve been lied to, when they find out she had come out here a homeless orphan, that she was a common thief, and that Toby Mills had not been her husband at all! He licked his lips, almost able to taste revenge.
13
Ethan opened the door at one end of the boarding house near to the rented rooms. At night the double doors at the other end were kept locked so the restaurant and Allyson’s room were inaccessible to boarders. The hallway was quiet, except for the sound of someone coughing across the hall from Ethan’s room. He frowned, moving an arm around Allyson and leading her to his room. “This just doesn’t seem right,” he grumbled. “We should go someplace special tonight.”
“In Guthrie? There is noplace special.”
“There’s a couple of hotels.”
“I know, Ethan, but we decided on this so quickly I didn’t have time to plan. I’ve got to be here in the morning to open up as usual. When I can make better arrangements, I’ll take a few days off and we can go anyplace you want.” Allyson hugged him, trembling on the inside at what would be expected of her now. She had made vows to love, honor, and obey. Loving and honoring a man like Ethan would not be difficult, but obeying, that was something else. To her the word meant being forced to cower under someone’s rule, like at the orphanage, to obey men like Henry Bartel or suffer the consequences.
She loved Ethan for his friendship and support, and she was sure she could eventually learn to love him the way a wife was supposed to love a husband, although she wasn’t sure just how that was supposed to feel. She respected his bravery and skills, but a tiny voice nudged at her a little over the fact that she had married a man who was half Indian. She had grown up knowing hardly a thing about Indians and imagining them as a strange people, wild and un-Christian, whom no white woman would consider becoming involved with intimately, unless she was captured and forced. Now here she was willingly married to one!
Ethan led her into his room, and she felt herself breaking into a cold sweat. She reminded herself she had done nothing wrong in the eyes of God, except, perhaps, not telling Ethan the whole truth about why she had married him. She meant to keep her wedding vows, even meant to allow Ethan his “husbandly rights” before this night was over. She would play the dutiful wife, as long as it meant keeping all that she had worked so hard for. “I should go down to my room and get a change of clothes and a nightgown,” she said softly.
Ethan sighed, grasping her arms and looking around the room. “These damn walls are paper thin. This is a crummy way to start a marriage. I’d like it to be nicer for you than some man’s tiny little room in a boarding house.”
She smiled at him. “Ethan, we just discussed that. We made a quick decision and this is how it will have to be for the moment.” She rested her head against his chest. “At least we’re married.” She gave him a squeeze. “What would it be like if we were married the Indian way?”
Ethan rubbed his hands over her slender back, thinking how small she was, realizing how much he must have hurt her that first time. She no doubt remembered that, was probably afraid of what was to come. “Oh, there would be a ceremony not totally unlike a Christian one. Then the bride and groom go riding off alone to a tipi already put up for them far from the village so they have privacy. They spend about a week there, making love, getting to know each other intimately. That’s the way I wish it could be for us.”
She pulled away. “We’ll find some time to do something like that,” she promised. She reached into the handbag that hung by a cord on her arm and took out a key. “I’ll go and get some of my things and be right back.”
Ethan leaned down and kissed her lightly. “Just be assured I’m not going to force anything on you tonight, Ally. We have all the time in the world for that, and I know you have some bad memories that make it difficult. The last thing I want is for you to be afraid of me.”
Ally felt the blood rushing to her face. She turned toward the door. “Things were different that first time. I mean, I was scared to death, and I was still in shock over Toby, plus I really hardly knew you…and, of course, I had drunk that whiskey. Now you’re my husband, and I feel much closer to you.” She turned to look up at him with wide blue eyes. “I want our marriage officially consummated tonight, Ethan. You have that right, and I want to learn not to be afraid. You’re the only man I know who can teach me without my hating his touch.” She turned away again. “I like it when you touch me.”
She hurried out the door then, hoping he believed her. Well, it was true, but she wasn’t all that sure she wanted it to happen again this quickly. Still, just in case Bartel should come bursting into her restaurant tomorrow, she wanted to be sure her marriage was totally, positively legal so in case Ethan got angry over her real reason for marrying him, he couldn’t back out and have it annulled.
Ethan watched the door close, then turned away and removed his boots, throwing them into a corner. He began unbuttoning his shirt, still wondering if he’d been rational in what he had just done. None of it seemed real, and he could just hear Hector Wells teasing him about the “white man” part of him being weak in lusting after a woman. Maybe he was. Something didn’t seem quite right about all of this, yet he’d gone ahead and gotten married, ignoring all warnings, leaving all questions unanswered. He didn’t want to question anything. He loved Ally Mills Temple with every bone in his body. The only thing that bothered him was that she seemed in such a hurry, and deep inside he could not help wondering if there was some other reason.
He pulled his shirt out and took it off, then unbuckled his belt and yanked it out of the pant loops. The only other thing that ate at him was the minister’s reaction to Ally marrying an Indian. Are you sure about this, Mrs. Mills? the man had asked, looking somewhat embarrassed as he looked Ethan over with obvious disapproval. Mr. Temp
le is half Indian, he had said bluntly, as though Ethan was not even there. Mr. Temple is just a man, Reverend, Ally had replied, a very good man who loves me and whom I love in return. Besides, he is half white. Ethan had been proud of the first part of her answer, but the last statement left him wondering whether he should take it as just a statement of fact or an insult. Did she mean she was acknowledging and marrying only the white half of Ethan Temple, as though it was a disgrace to marry the Indian but all right to marry the white?
He turned and threw back the bedcovers, hoping the damn bed wouldn’t squeak too much. He shook off the minister’s insult. He was used to such remarks, and he decided Ally didn’t mean to insult him by her own remark. He had to quit doubting her and enjoy the fact that she was now his wife. Once she learned to enjoy the sexual part of marriage, the woman in her would be happy and fulfilled, especially once she had a couple of babies. Ally was just young and feisty, needed to mellow a little. She’d be a damn good wife overall.
He took a rawhide tie from his hair and shook it loose, wishing he could take Ally to a tipi far away from everyone like he’d done with Violet. That had been a beautiful night for them both, Violet passionate and willing in spite of the pain. He told himself to remember that Ally was not Violet. He actually laughed lightly at the comparison. No two women could be more different in looks, background, and personality. Just then Allyson came back inside and set down a carpetbag. Ethan walked over and swept her up into his arms, kicking the door shut and whirling her around before carrying her over to the bed and plopping her onto it. He moved on top of her, catching her mouth, which was slightly open with surprise, keeping it open with a hot kiss and running his tongue into her mouth suggestively.
Allyson wasn’t sure what to think or do. Part of her was suddenly on fire, curiosity again ripping through her in sudden desires that were new—yet the old fears were still there. Ethan left her mouth then and kissed her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’m just happy, Mrs. Temple. You get your gown on and get into bed. I won’t even look when you change if you don’t want me to. I promise just to hold you against me tonight. Nothing else will happen unless you want it to.”
Allyson studied his dark eyes, feeling like a witch for using him. Still, that was only part of it. She really did mean to be a true wife to him. It was just that she was still learning to love him, whereas Ethan Temple already seemed to love her as passionately and devotedly as any man could. “All right,” she agreed. “I’ll go in the washroom and change, and you get into bed.”
Ethan grinned and kissed her once more. “I love you, Ally.” He let her up, and she took her carpetbag into the washroom and closed the curtain. Ethan stripped and turned down the oil lamp, then climbed under the covers to wait. After several minutes he heard her voice and sensed a tremor in the words.
“Promise to be gentle and go slowly, Ethan,” she said, her voice high-pitched, almost like a frightened little girl.
“I told you I wouldn’t force you or hurt you, Ally.”
She opened the curtain then, and Ethan’s smile faded into surprise and a look of near-worship. She stood there stark naked. He’d already been inside this woman, but this was the first time he’d looked upon her total nakedness. It was a beautiful sight to behold, her breasts full and high, their pink nipples erect and begging to be tasted. The patch of hair between her slender thighs was as red as the hair on her head. He’d never seen anything like it. Her skin glowed like an angel, and that was what she looked like standing there. He could see her trembling.
“I said I wanted this to be a complete marriage,” she told him. “I meant it.”
Ethan sat up. He could see she was having trouble making her legs move. He threw off the covers, and her eyes widened as she looked him over. “It’s all right, Ally. Everything will be all right.”
Ally studied his body. Suddenly he seemed bigger than ever, and when she saw that part of him that would invade her tonight, she understood why it had hurt the first time, was terrified of how it would feel again. He couldn’t possibly fit that whole thing inside of her, could he?
Now he was picking her up, laying her in the bed, moving in beside her. She told herself she must do this, and no more handsome specimen could be found in Guthrie, maybe not in all of Oklahoma. And he loved her. She couldn’t ask for much more. She closed her eyes, obeying his every gentle command…breathe deeply, relax, let me make it nice for you, Ally. I love you so.
This was not so bad. She actually wanted to return his kisses, to touch his muscled arms. She felt no fear or desire to stop him when he gently fondled her breasts, massaging, toying with her nipples, making her groan for more. His hand moved downward, his kisses still smothering her and erasing all inhibitions as he traced his fingers to that magical place only Ethan Temple had ever touched.
How did he know that touching her this way brought an unexpected wantonness to her soul? His kisses were hot and inviting, his tongue invading her mouth while his fingers moved inside of her with teasing little thrusts that made her whimper. Then he was toying with that magical spot between her legs that made her feel on fire; then back inside of her again, keeping up the glorious, suggestive thrusts until she felt crazy with the need for more. She had not expected it to be this easy, this wonderful, this natural, and she wasn’t even drunk!
His lips moved down over her neck, and he gently took one of her nipples into his mouth, softly licking, pulling at it, his fingers still working a magic that made her willingly open herself to him. He lingered at her breasts, whispering words to her about how beautiful she was, how ripe and delicious, even saying things in the Cheyenne tongue that she did not understand, yet the words excited her. He moved down farther, licking at her belly, working his tongue down to her most private place. She grasped his hair and protested. She was not ready for this much brazen openness. Not yet. He made no objection. He moved back over her belly, licking his way back over both breasts, her neck, back to her mouth.
She felt a wonderful explosion deep inside then that made her push up and press herself against his fingers. He moved a finger back inside her again, feeling deep, making her want more, something bigger, something that would fill the incredible need she suddenly felt. He smothered her with kisses then as he moved on top of her.
She stiffened, but she opened herself to him. In the next moment she gasped as he quickly entered her with a hard thrust. This time there was very little pain, and to her surprise, she welcomed it. He was whispering and moaning her name, ramming into her with a rhythm that made her feel wild with desire. Her breath came in gasps, and she gripped his strong arms, wondering what had happened to the inexperienced Ally Mills she had been only minutes ago.
It was just like that first night. He had touched some magic button in her that made her change into a wanton woman. Was it the Indian in him, some wild, aboriginal witchcraft? Did Indians of old do this to captive white women to make them surrender? Or was it something else? Could it be that it was this wonderful only because she loved him more than she thought she did? Or maybe she was just releasing her own wickedness, allowing herself to experience being with a man simply because it felt good.
But it wasn’t supposed to feel good, and she wasn’t supposed to care this much, not yet. It was supposed to be ugly, something done only out of duty. She was supposed to be doing this only as a way of consummating the marriage so everything would be legal. She did not love Ethan Temple like a wife should, did she? That was supposed to come later.
She felt something pulse inside of her, and Ethan gasped her name, his broad, dark shoulders hovering over her, his whole body trembling. She knew instinctively he had reached his own climactic moment. It was now official. The marriage was consummated. They could just quit and go to sleep now, couldn’t they? So why in God’s name did she want to do it again? He stayed inside of her, and she felt that mysterious part of man that had always frightened her growing larger again, pushing deep, making her arch agai
nst him in a need to take all of him inside of her.
“Stay right there,” Ethan whispered, nibbling at her lips. “I’m not through with you yet, woman.”
Allyson gladly obeyed.
Nolan Ives hoisted his hefty body out of his huge, leather office chair to greet the three men who entered his office. One of them was Cy Jacobs, the land agent who was in charge of the five-member board of arbitration that decided cases regarding lot ownership. Cy was a short, slender man, totally bald except for a thick ring of hair that circled around the back of his head from ear to ear. He sported a mustache and spectacles and enjoyed the authority he held. He was also easy to bribe, and had helped Nolan swindle several people out of their land; from the look on his face, he had news of another deal he knew would please Ives.
One of the two other men was a stranger to Nolan, the thinnest man he’d ever seen, with piercing eyes ablaze with something that looked like anger and revenge. Walking in behind Cy and the stranger was the new town sheriff, for what he was worth. Harper Seymour was a potbellied, ageing man who could handle a few town drunks but not much more than that. When things got really serious, a U. S. Marshal had to be called in.
“Well, gentlemen, to what do I owe this visit?” Nolan asked, shaking hands with all three of them. He grunted as he sat back down in his chair.
“I’ve got some good news for you, Nolan,” Cy answered with a smug grin. “Looks like you can get those two prime lots away from Allyson Mills without even having to pay for them.”
“What?” Nolan’s puffy eyes lit up, and he grasped the arms of his chair.
Cy chuckled. “This man with me is a Mr. Henry Bartel, former overseer at an orphanage back in New York City. He came out here a couple of days ago to live, decided he’d open a school in Guthrie. He’s a teacher.”
“So? Get to it, Cy!”
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