Haven's Flame (Fires of Cricket Bend Book 1)

by Marie Piper

  “Everything just became real,” she whispered. “This will be our room.”

  Matthew’s strong arms wrapped around her shoulders as he stood behind her. Spurred by the gesture, she rested against him and raised her hands to grab his arms. For a long moment, they stood together. Haven’s heart nearly burst when he embraced her. After all her longing, to actually be touched by him chased away all her other thoughts. His arms encircled her like he’d protect her from a thousand brawls, and she inhaled audibly.

  Matthew moved a hand down to her waist and held himself to her. Encouraging him, Haven tilted her head to the side just a little. When he brought his lips to where her neck met her jaw, Haven began to turn herself to him for a kiss. Perhaps he would finally act. Her heart raced.

  “No,” he whispered, moving his face away just enough to stop her. “Not yet.”

  “For Heaven’s sake,” she cried softly while taking hold of his shirt. “You don’t need to be so careful with me. I’m going to be your wife. You can kiss me at least.” She moved to press her lips to his, but he turned his face from hers. “Heck, you can even do more than that if you want.”

  “Haven.”

  “Matthew.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Haven yelped in exasperation. When he shook his head in response, she tried to leave. Running away from him seemed the only way to save her heart from breaking into twenty pieces.

  Matthew didn’t let her go. Despite her anger, she studied his face and knew immediately there was something happening that she hadn’t been aware of before that moment. Her anger paused. “I might have known you my whole life, Matthew, but I am not a mind reader. Tell me what you’re thinking, because I don’t know anymore.”

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I’m sorry about the other night, and I’m sorry about this. You’re still gonna marry me, aren’t you?”

  Those blue eyes of his looked so damn hopeful. If he’d just been a horrible person, she could have hated him, and everything would have been so much easier. Instead, she loved him with all of her heart and soul, and he’d gone and held her just enough to drive her crazy. He was leaving her longing for him, and she was certainly going to dream about him even more than usual.

  “Matthew Frank, I swear you’ll be the death of me, but I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. And yes, I’m still going to marry you. Despite yourself, by the way.” Haven pulled her arms out of his and broke away from him to walk toward the door of the house. Air. She needed fresh air.

  “I’ll take you home,” he replied as he followed her out and toward the pen where the horses were.

  Haven didn’t want to be near him another second. It was just too hard. Loving him was becoming too hard. “I still want more bluebonnets before they’re gone. They won’t last forever, and they’re so beautiful.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No,” she replied quickly, and saw his face fall a little. Giving him a little disappointment felt like fair play. “I’ll go right there, pick them, and head home. I have my knife, and after winning our race today, I think you’ll agree Echo is a pretty fast horse.”

  Matthew got on Copper. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner.”

  “It’s Sunday, ain’t it?” He always came for Sunday dinner. Of course she’d have to see his face again that day and remember the feeling of him. Of course she’d have to sit at a table opposite him and try to pretend, for her father’s sake, and for Doc’s, that nothing was wrong between her and the man she was going to marry.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Haven

  Haven headed in the direction of the bluebonnets, seething as she rode. He’d teased her with his touch, with his kiss, but he’d pulled away as if there was something wrong with her.

  Callie said that no man could turn away a pretty woman who wanted them. Unluckily for Haven, it appeared Matthew was the exception. Haven’s disappointment and unrequited lust combined, causing hot tears to drip on her face as she reached the field of bluebonnets.

  She dropped Echo’s reins and walked into the flowers. Kneeling down, she pulled her knife from her boot to cut some of the radiant bluebonnets. She almost wished the man from the hill would attack her. It would be nice to stab something.

  She sniffled and wiped more tears from her face. The flowers before her practically glowed purple. She cut one to admire it more closely. It smelled light and beautiful as she pressed it to her nose and inhaled, trying to memorize the smell before the blooms left for another year. The bluebonnets would wither and die soon. At that moment, they burst with color and made the world seem so beautiful. But in a few weeks the earth would go back to being plain. Haven couldn’t help but feel sympathy for their plight. She felt she was also a bluebonnet in her last moments of youth and freedom, before the color in her world all went away forever.

  Why didn’t Matthew desire her the way she desired him? What more could she do, what more could she be, to make him feel the same? In the years he’d been gone, had he seen so many different women that he didn’t think of her as someone who could be a lover? Was her whole life going to be spent cooking meals for a man who didn’t even want to kiss her?

  Thoughts spun and sobs wracked her throat as she put her face in her hands. She cried loudly, realizing how bizarre she must look, wailing in a field of beautiful flowers wearing her best Sunday dress.

  “Miss Anderson!”

  Lifting her head quickly, she saw the impressive figure of Hank Porter riding toward her on his black horse. He wore a blue shirt with rolled-up sleeves, a black vest that was fitted to his strong form, and a look of serious concern.

  She wiped her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat as she sat up on her knees.

  “Mr. Porter,” she called back, feigning normalcy as best she could. “I assume you’re returning from a profitable adventure.”

  From the direction he’d come, she guessed he’d gone to Greeley, a town about twenty miles away, known for its vibrant gambling parlor. Only Hank Porter would be returning from a gambling hall on a Sunday afternoon.

  Though he must have seen her crying, and she knew her eyes were most likely red from the aftermath, Hank was kind enough to pretend he hadn’t. The expression on his face showed that he could tell she was upset. Hank was no fool. “Profitable, yes. Adventure, hardly. Bunch of rank amateurs and greenhorns. They should have just given me their money when I walked in the door and saved us all some time. But what on earth are you doing out here all alone? I’m surprised your deputy isn't with you.”

  That her deputy was the very reason she was so upset, he had no way of knowing.

  “I gave him the day off.”

  Hank chuckled, and she felt accomplished. “It seems to me a woman with the guts to charge into a bunch of brawling men carrying only a board wouldn’t have much need for sentries anyway.”

  “You saw that?”

  “I did indeed. A brave move, one I wouldn’t have expected. Though I’m learning I shouldn’t misjudge you, my dear. I have no doubt you can defend yourself admirably.”

  Bantering with Hank proved the perfect relief from her sadness, and she was glad of his company and the distraction it provided. “To answer your question, the bluebonnets won’t last long. I’m collecting as many as I can.”

  “Might I join you for a while?”

  Being alone could cause a scandal if anyone saw them. But there were no houses for miles, and there was no one around. Haven bent back down to pick more of the flowers, granting him permission to stay without saying a word.

  Hank dismounted and pulled a flask from his saddlebag. She felt his eyes on her as he took a long drink. “From the look of these clouds, I was beginning to fear a storm coming in.” He offered her a drink, which she declined. “Yet the very sight of you chases all the clouds away.”

  Haven laughed. “Do you stay up late thinking of fancy things to say?”

  “Did it make you laugh?”

  “Yes.”

&nb
sp; “Then it was worth any loss of sleep.” He met her eyes with his, holding her gaze. She remembered how good it felt to kiss him, and wondered if he would ever want to kiss her again. “Truth be told, I’m glad to meet you. You’re quite closely watched while in town, and I’d begun to wonder how I could possibly gain a few private moments to present my case.”

  “And what case is that, exactly?”

  “Should you choose to take a lover, I am obviously the most viable candidate.”

  “Hank Porter!”

  He held up a hand but kept talking. “Now, hear me out. To begin, discretion will be of vital importance. As you likely know, I have spent a great deal of my life as a gambler and a rascal, and I have run many a scheme.”

  “That’s not encouraging.”

  “Let me finish. Over the years, I have become quite gifted at discretion. No one will know about us, unless you want them to—that I promise you.”

  The sweet drawl of his sincere-sounding promise charmed Haven. Sitting back on her bottom in the grass, she stopped cutting flowers. She had no choice but to hear him out, she figured. Not that she really minded. “A compelling argument.”

  “I thought you’d like it.”

  “Please continue.”

  “Next, you’ll want a man of experience for the job.”

  Hank crouched so close to her that she could see the tiny flecks of brown in his green eyes. Resisting his offer, resisting him at all, was going to be a challenge. If she wanted to resist, that is. If he’d been any more good looking, she’d have to doubt he was a real man at all, and not some Greek God come to earth to fool with her instead.

  “I hear you’ve known a thousand women.”

  The devil crept back into his grin. “Not quite that many. However, I won’t deny that I’ve known more than my share, and though I do hate to brag, I am well-versed in the art of lovemaking. What’s more, I’ve never had any complaints.”

  Haven could believe it. No woman in her right mind could complain about him. He kneeled to get closer, and looked right in her eyes for the grand finale of his argument. “Finally, and perhaps most importantly, you liked it when I kissed you yesterday. Despite the very big part of you that knows I’m a man with a less than stellar reputation, you think about me like a lover would.”

  Everything Hank said was true. She knew the danger, but it hadn’t stopped her from imagining the two of them together in ways she could never speak out loud. With how his body bent to hers, she could see the way his shirt strained against his strength. The realization of how badly she wanted to feel him against her brought a lump to her throat. “You’re mighty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Always have been. If I want something, I get it. And let me assure you, I want you just as much as you want me. Therefore this arrangement could benefit us both.” Hank reached out his hand and touched his thumb to her cheek. Lightly, he wiped away the trail a tear had left. “My dear Miss Anderson, I came upon you today looking as beautiful as a dream, yet here you are, bawling your eyes out. It seems to me you could use some happiness in your life, even if it’s just for a short while. I humbly beg you to let me be the one who delivers it.”

  “I thought you never begged.”

  “For you, my dear Haven, I will happily make an exception.”

  Those green eyes wore away her last shreds of resistance, and his words charmed the part of her that most needed charming. The very idea of falling into his arms had seemed impossible only days earlier, but now they were together, alone. What was the point of pretending anymore?

  Haven put up her last argument. “I’m in love with Matthew, God help me.”

  “Then let him hold your heart. And let me borrow the rest for a while.” Hank kissed her in a way that seemed to last forever, and Haven’s thoughts raced with the multitude of reasons why this was a terrible idea. Yet his kiss was soft, and when he moved a hand to her arm, all thoughts of anything other than him vanished. Hank kissed her like a man who knew how to melt a woman using only his lips. All thoughts about being proper flew away as she moved her hands to his broad shoulders and pressed her lips to his in return. Her fingers went to the back of his neck, and she felt the softness of his hair. The slight stubble on his chin rubbed against her skin, tickling a bit. So this was what having her passion returned could feel like.

  Easily, Hank put an arm around her waist and lowered them both to the ground, never taking his mouth from hers. Laying beneath him, she felt the power of his strength and size. Her whole body flushed at the realization that if he wanted her bad enough, she’d be powerless to fight him off. In her daydreams she’d often considered what being ravaged by Hank Porter would be like, and she wondered if she was about to find out.

  Hank kissed just under her chin, and pulled his head back a tiny bit. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you?” Haven still had her arms locked around his neck.

  “I generally try to avoid getting my eyes clawed out. And I’ll pardon your foul language, sweetness.”

  She laughed, and he dove in to kiss her again as a few drops of rain fell on them. Enjoying the feelings of his lips, Haven allowed him to deftly undo enough of the buttons on her dress that the top of her corset and her bosoms were revealed. Raindrops hit her exposed skin, and she got a chill.

  “You have goosebumps,” Hank noted with an evil look in his eyes.

  She smiled slyly. “It’s raining, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I hadn’t.”

  “You terrible man,” Haven said. She pressed her lips to his, and he responded by touching his whole body to hers. The rain began to fall harder, and thunder boomed loudly. Hank sat up with an incredible effort, and pointed toward the sky. A bolt of lightning flashed a few miles off.

  “It appears Mother Nature wants us to wait a bit,” Hank offered. “I cannot, in good conscience, put you in danger. You should get home before this storm gets too bad.”

  Though she hated the idea of letting go of him, Haven was a child of the area and knew how bad sudden storms could become. She buttoned the front of her infernal dress, and Hank offered her a hand to get to her feet. “Now, you ride straight home, you hear me? Wouldn’t want you to get lost and run into any wicked men with lascivious intentions.” He wrapped his arms around her hips, resting a hand in the curve of her back and bringing her close to him. “Though I’ll think about you tonight, there’s no rush. We have all the time in the world.”

  “The flowers!” she cried. She dove for the ones she’d already cut and quickly snapped a few more. Hank helped, laughing, until she had a big bunch and shoved them into her saddlebag.

  After a long rain-soaked kiss, they parted hastily and didn’t look back at each other. Haven ran Echo through the thickening rain, and visibility grew terrible. By the time she reached her house, she was soaked through. She quickly put Echo in her stall and darted into the house as Luke flung open the door.

  “Where on Earth have you been?” He pulled her inside and noted her dripping clothes. “I was about to go lookin’ for you.”

  “I got caught in the storm.” Haven wiped her wet forehead and held up the waterlogged flowers. “It came up so fast. But I got more bluebonnets.”

  She was sure he saw the flush of her skin, but he had no way of knowing that it wasn’t from hurrying against the storm outside. Had the rain not come, and had Hank not been such a gentleman, things would have gone further.

  Haven knew she’d have to make dinner that evening, sit at a table with her father, Doc, and Matthew, all while trying not to think of everything that had happened in the past few days.

  She had offered herself to the man she loved. He’d declined her. Then a rascal had made her head spin.

  Guilt came when she thought of Matthew, but her anger at him was greater. In that moment, she felt he deserved any heartbreak he got.

  After all, someone had to want her.

  If Matthew didn’t, she knew someone who did.
/>
  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Matthew

  From the looks of the big bow-legged man walking toward the jail bright and early, Matthew guessed that the cowboy was a McKenzie.

  “Damn. How many of you boys are there?” Matthew stood up as the man approached. His hand rested on his gun, a silent warning that trouble wouldn’t be tolerated.

  “Six,” the cowboy replied. “My five little brothers are a handful and a half.” He raised his hands in the air a little. “I ain’t fixing to make trouble, friend. I came to get them and make amends for any and all damage they caused.”

  “You do this a lot, don’t you?”

  “You don’t want to know.” The cowboy chuckled and flipped his shaggy amber hair out of his eyes. “Bill McKenzie. Is Luke around?”

  Matthew kept his eyes on the man as he called over his shoulder, “Hey, Sheriff!”

  Luke came out of the jail, a stern look on his face. When he saw Bill McKenzie standing on the steps of the jail, he sighed and shook his head with a little grin. “Bill, I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but your boys have been up to all sorts of no good.” Luke’s easy familiarity with the cowboy made Matthew lower his guard.

  The other man nodded. “Theo told me. Then he took off. Ain’t seen him since.”

  “He’s back in my jail. This time with a broken jaw.”

  “I assume he earned it.”

  Luke nodded. “First, two of your boys got drunk and assaulted the owner of our saloon. Then a whole gaggle of them started a fight that got some of my citizens wounded. Theo tried to attack me, then went after my daughter and scuffled with my deputy here.” Luke pointed over to Matthew, and Bill shook his head and looked at the heavens for a moment.

  “I’m right sorry about all that. My Pa is angrier than a man with red ants in his britches. They’ll face his wrath as soon as they get back, and they all know it. We’ll pay for any damages, and we'll take it out of their pay at the end of the drive. In the meantime, Pa’ll take it out of their hides.”