Before the Dawn

by Beverly Jenkins

  “Good night, old man.”

  Once he was alone again, Ryder thought back on Sam’s words. Take her for who she is now, not who she might’ve been. If only it were that simple. On one hand he wanted to toss aside his past and pursue her fully, but on the other hand, to do so would be to betray himself. Life had been so orderly before her arrival. Now, all Ryder could think about was a black-diamond beauty named Leah Barnett Montague and that she’d slept with his father.

  Chapter 5

  That next morning Leah awakened to the smell of coffee. As she lay in bed, looking up at the faint traces of dawn on the ceiling, she thought about last night. Was this her destiny, to be tossed about like a small ship on his moody seas? One moment he’d been tenderly caressing her hand, and the next cold as ice. It was not an auspicious beginning.

  Leah got out of bed. After washing and dressing, she went to greet the day.

  “Morning, Sam,” she called as she entered the kitchen. “Coffee smells wonder—” Her words faded at the sight of the shirtless Ryder coming in the back door. He was carrying a load of kindling and the hard brown muscles of his arms and chest were dewed and shiny. Leah forced her eyes away from his chiseled physique.

  “Good morning,” he said emotionlessly. He set the wood in the box by the stove. There was a blue-checked flannel shirt hanging on the peg on the back door. He took the shirt down and put it on. “Sam’s out getting eggs.”

  Not certain how they were supposed to interact after the way they’d parted last evening, Leah asked, “Where does Sam keep the cups for coffee?”

  He opened a cupboard near his head and handed her a painted teacup.

  Leah looked skeptically at the dainty little thing. “Do you have anything larger?”

  He reached back into the cupboard and extracted a much larger one, one any coffee lover would be proud to fill. “Large enough?”

  “Yes.”

  Avoiding his eyes, she took it from his hand, then filled it from the pot warming on the stove. The curls of smoke rose up fragrant and familiar. She blew on it a moment and then took a tentative first sip. It was terrible! “Who made this?” she asked before she could call the words back.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I did.”

  “Is there another pot? I’d like to make my own.”

  Ryder had never met so frank a woman. “I make decent coffee.”

  “For whom, your horses?”

  He stared. In fact, he was still staring when Sam walked in. Sam took in the stormy look on Ryder’s face and the determination on Leah’s, and asked Ryder, “What did I miss?”

  Ryder said coolly. “She was just telling me how bad my coffee is.”

  In response, Sam grinned, then cackled, “I knew she was smart the day we met her. Mornin’, Miss Leah.”

  “Morning, Sam. Do you have another coffeepot?”

  “Sure do. Ryder, get the little lady that other pot in that sideboard behind you.”

  Leah could see how displeased Ryder looked but she wasn’t going to start her days drinking swill, not even for fifteen thousand dollars.

  Sam began cracking eggs into a bowl. “I’ve been telling him for years about that stuff he calls coffee. Ain’t another person alive can drink it. Hogs don’t even like it, and you know they’ll eat steel wool.”

  Leah’s snort of laughter slipped out.

  Ryder said frostily, “Call me when the food’s ready.”

  “Sure will,” Sam promised.

  Ryder left.

  In his office, Ryder waited for Sam to finish preparing breakfast by staring moodily out of the windows. The sun was coming up, and the fog that always held sway at this time of day covered the landscape with its softness. He’d planned on starting the day by having breakfast and checking the stock market figures in the two newspapers delivered to his office in Denver yesterday, not by having his coffee-making abilities maligned. His fifteen-thousand-dollar bank draft had purchased her opinions too, he supposed, opinions as frank as she was beautiful.

  Beautiful women were supposed to be docile, even-tempered things—not complex riddles. They certainly weren’t supposed to criticize his coffee.

  When Leah appeared in the doorway with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand, he turned her way. He was thinking that no adventuress had the right to look so fetching yet so prim and proper. She was wearing a high-necked white blouse and full navy blue skirt.

  “Will you taste this?” Leah asked, holding out the cup. His skeptical face made her add, “I just want to know if it’s strong enough for your liking?”

  Wary, he took the offered cup from her hand. “You planning on taking over the coffee-making duties?”

  “Maybe.”

  He observed her for a moment, then took a short sip. “Not bad.” In reality, it was quite good.

  “Back at the Swan, I made the morning coffee,” she explained. “The men always asked for more, so I suppose they found it decent.”

  Ryder had no trouble telling the difference between his pot and hers—hers had flavor. The lure in her made his sour mood fade like the fog. “If you promise to make coffee like this each morning, I promise never to make coffee again.”

  The light of humor in his eyes made Leah smile shyly in spite of herself. “You have a deal.”

  “May I keep this one?”

  “Yes.”

  He set the cup on the windowsill. “I thought back East women like you drank tea.”

  “I do, but not first thing in the morning. I need something more substantial to start my day.”

  The interest she saw in his dark eyes made her wary, so to cover her uncertainty she turned to scan the titles on some of the neatly aligned books filling the dark wood shelves. Most had to do with mining, engineering, and geology. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many books in one person’s home.”

  “I’m glad there’s something about me that impresses you.”

  Leah glanced over her shoulder at him and felt her senses touched by the deep tones of his voice and by whatever else it was that made her susceptible to him. She didn’t know how to respond. The unresolved issues that had caused yesterday’s disastrous dinner still clung to her. “There are probably many things about you I’d be impressed by—if circumstances were different.”

  “You mean if there were no bargain between us.”

  She nodded, refusing to meet his eyes.

  “If there were no bargain, would you stay?”

  Leah met his eyes. Although she didn’t know very much about him, she sensed the honesty in his question. “I don’t know. You’re handsome, intelligent, but—I don’t know you well enough to say, yes, I’d be your lover if there was no bargain.”

  He appreciated her honesty. “Shall I court you like a gentleman then?”

  She began to shake inside.

  He slowly walked over to where she stood. The intensity in his eyes was plain enough to touch. Although the power in him wafted around her like thick sweet smoke, she still had to know. “Why’d you leave me the way you did last evening?”

  Ryder heard the ghost of hurt in her voice. He knew his abrupt departure had upset her; he hadn’t known she’d been hurt by it. “Hurting you wasn’t my intent.”

  She looked away. He wasn’t supposed to know her feelings had been bruised.

  He reached out and gently turned her face so he could see into her dark eyes. “My demons got the best of me. I’m sorry.”

  “If you don’t let go of the past, it will consume you.”

  “I know, but it’s easy to say, hard to do.”

  Leah watched his eyes linger over her mouth and her heart started to pound.

  She raised her gaze back to his, and the parts of herself that had never experienced a man’s desire began to tremble. When he lowered his mouth to hers, she didn’t protest; she let the warmth of his lips whisper over hers like a soft breeze. He repeated it, and then as the kiss deepened he brought her body closer, letting his solid nearness fill her, tempt her, dazzle he
r.

  After a few long moments, he pulled away. Her eyes were closed. When they opened they were hazy with the first buds of passion.

  Smiling down gently, Ryder worried his brown thumb over her slightly parted lips, savoring their softness. “You have a gorgeous mouth…”

  Unable to resist, he kissed her again; this time deeper, his hands moving slowly over her blouse-covered back as he held her against him. He husked out against her ear, “I’d rather seduce you, than court you…”

  Leah swore she was at the center of a lightning storm. His kisses now moving over her jaw and the soft trembling skin beneath her chin sent sparks all over the room. He thought her experienced in this, but each touch of his lips was new; so new her virgin’s body began to respond with its own will, overriding her mind’s efforts to remain in control. She wanted his kiss, wanted to know all the things he could teach her even if there was no commitment for the future.

  Shocked by that revelation, Leah wanted to pull back so she could think, catch her breath, but the woman inside wouldn’t move. He brushed warm lips against her ear, asking hotly, “Shall I court you…or seduce you?”

  Leah melted right then and there. Her legs were like pudding, her mind no better.

  “Shall I take you to the theater like a gentleman…or teach you how to ride a Cheyenne warrior…”

  Leah groaned. While his kisses continued to ripen her lips, his hands were very slowly learning the curves and shape of her body. Under his coaxing palms her nipples were rising, hardening. The novel sensations arched her back, and a dewy warmth began to spread between her thighs.

  On the edges of his consciousness, Ryder could hear Sam calling them for breakfast from the kitchen, but found this meal far more tantalizing. The feel of her rising to his touch and the rich, lush taste of her lips were demanding he close the door and make love to her right here, however he knew Sam would come barging in fussing if he didn’t respond promptly, so he reluctantly pulled away from her lips, and yelled back, “Be there in a minute.”

  Leah hadn’t heard Sam’s call; she’d heard nothing but the call of her own heated senses. What a wanton, explosive moment. Is this what her future would be like, too, more of these powerful episodes that left her breathless and pulsing? She hadn’t known a woman’s body could be so consumed.

  Ryder looked down at her. “I seem to have found another way to impress you.”

  Leah couldn’t deny that truth. She was tingling and blooming everywhere. “Are all Cheyenne braves as modest as you?” she asked with a quiet sassiness.

  He bent down and kissed her soundly in response. When he let her go, he looked down into her passion-lit eyes and asked, “What do you think?”

  “I think we’d better go eat before Sam comes in here with his switch.”

  Beguiled by the spell in her, he used a finger to slowly and possessively trace her kiss-swollen mouth. “You have to answer my question first.”

  Leah found it hard to think. “What question?”

  Unable to resist Ryder touched his lips softly to hers once again. “Do you wish to be courted or seduced?” he whispered.

  Through the haze and fog, Leah fought to form speech. “Both…” the woman inside herself answered.

  Ryder’s manhood tightened. He’d guessed there was heat simmering beneath her prim exterior, and now he knew he’d been correct. “Then you shall have your wish…Let’s go eat.”

  As Leah sat across from him at the small table on the glassed-in porch, she was admittedly still pulsing from his kisses. Her lips felt swollen, and her blood was racing. Who knew he’d be able to affect her this way? She felt desired, wanted, but, did he want her for herself? She still didn’t know.

  Turning her mind to the more calming prospect of breakfast, Leah looked at all the choices on the table and wondered if Sam cooked this banquet every morning. There were grits, eggs, and sourdough toast; stewed apples, panfried potatoes, bacon, and sausage. To her further surprise, Ryder helped himself to all of it.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, as he worked a bit of butter into his grits.

  “Are you going to eat all of that?”

  He seemed confused by the question. “Yes.”

  Leah shook herself free. “I’m sorry. It’s just—I’ve never seen anyone eat so much, is all.”

  He raised one dark eyebrow. “Say the grace.”

  Hiding her smile, Leah searched her mind for a moment, then said, “May God give us his blessing, and may all the ends of the earth stand in awe of him.”

  And so, they began their first breakfast together.

  Leah had never had breakfast with a man before. There was a certain intimacy in the atmosphere she supposed couples shared all the time, but it was as new to her as the passionate interlude in his study. She also supposed married couples passed the time talking of the upcoming day, plans for dinner, and current events, but what did a man and his paramour discuss? Since she had no answer, she began on her plate.

  As Ryder savored his eggs, he also savored the remembered feel of her in his arms and the taste of her lips. The vivid memory made his manhood rise hard as a length of wood. He cut into his potatoes with a promise to sample more of her as soon as it could be arranged.

  Every time Leah met his eyes across the table the heat in them seared her softly. Her nipples rose shamelessly, and the pulsing between her thighs renewed its echoing beat. Her responses couldn’t be proper, but she felt certain he preferred them that way. Ryder Damien was a descendant of Black and Cheyenne warriors, and he’d promised to teach her to ride.

  Shocking herself with that vivid thought, Leah picked up her coffee in an effort to compose herself; his kisses seemed to have addled her brain. She’d been bought and paid for; she wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this, was she, or did that matter anymore? It certainly hadn’t back in his study.

  “I’m going to have to go into Denver, after we’re done with breakfast. Do you mind staying here with Sam?”

  “Not at all. He and I are becoming fast friends.”

  “Good. I’ll ask him to give you a tour of the countryside, if he’s not too busy.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Did you like my kisses?”

  The question caught her off guard. She looked over at him and remembered all he’d made her feel. It was too late to lie now. She nodded. “Yes.”

  “I liked yours, too.” And what aroused him most had been the innocence he’d tasted in her lips. Even though he knew she wasn’t a virgin, her kisses had been at first tentative, unsure, almost as if she’d never shared passion before. It came to him that maybe she hadn’t been introduced fully to the game of love, and the possibility of teaching her all he knew made him want to say to hell with going to town and carry her up to his bed. “I probably won’t be back until late. Will you wait up and have dinner with me…? I promise I won’t leave you…and I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  The implications of that washed over Leah like a wave. She had difficulty keeping her breathing even. Her eyes strayed to his mouth. Would the evening end with her in his bed? The thought gave her the shakes in more ways than one. “Yes, I’ll wait up for you.”

  Her affirmative answer was rewarded with one of his rare smiles. He pushed back his now empty plate and wiped his mouth on his linen napkin. “I need to go, then, so I can get back.”

  Leah had trouble reconciling herself to the idea of being desired by such a man. Because of her age and poverty-stricken circumstances, she’d buried her hopes of ever knowing a lover’s caress long ago.

  Leah began to tremble again as he came around to where she sat. He reached out a hand. She grasped it and rose to her feet.

  Ryder took a moment to stare down into her ebony eyes. “Let me have a kiss. It’s all we have time for right now.”

  Leah’s knees melted, and as he lifted her chin and gave her a fiery, lingering kiss, the rest of her melted as well.

  He touched her dark cheek as a fleeting caress good-bye
, then quietly exited, leaving her hazy, dazed, and yearning for more.

  As it turned out, Sam didn’t have time for a formal tour. “I have to go over to Miss Eloise’s today—I chop her wood on Thursdays. You’re welcome to come along if you like.”

  So Leah did.

  It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, the temperature so warm Leah didn’t need her cloak. While Sam guided the buckboard over the uneven open land, he pointed out landmarks, gave her the names of blooming wildflowers and circling hawks. They saw foxes and rabbits, deer and butterflies. It was a visual treat, but Leah still thought the place needed an ocean.

  “Who is this Miss Eloise, Sam?”

  “Lady about my age. Old friend of Ryder’s. Says she knew his father, too. Been here a while.”

  Leah recalled going past Miss Eloise’s house with Ryder. “I have a feeling I’ll like her.”

  “Don’t see why not. Everybody else does.”

  “Even Helene Sejours?”

  He cracked. “Well, not everybody,” he added as they pulled up in front of a small cottage surrounded by fields of blooming flowers. Sam set the brake. “Miss Eloise used to be a laundress back in the gold rush days. Now she just paints and tends her flowers.”

  As Leah stepped down from the backboard her attention was grabbed by a woman in faded trousers, shirt, and an old hat digging in the flowers on the side of the house. She looked up, and a smile lit her face. “Morning, Sam.”

  He waved as he hitched the team to the post outside her whitewashed fence. “Morning, Eloise. Meet Leah Montague.”

  By now the brown-skinned woman was coming down the narrow path that served as a walk through all the flowers. “Glad to meet you. Leah? You’re Louis’s widow, aren’t you?”

  Leah nodded a bit uncertainly. Although Sam had vouched for the woman’s sweet nature, Leah didn’t know what memories she had of Monty. Had Miss Eloise been one of the people he’d been unkind to also?

  The woman regarded her for a moment. “Heard you were in town. I’m sorry for your loss,” she told Leah, seemingly genuinely. “A lot of folks won’t miss him, but I will.”