McCrory's Lady

by Henke, Shirl Henke

  “You worked very hard, became a rancher and built an empire. And you've done everything you could to atone for your past by becoming the Apaches' defender.”

  “They keep their word when you make an agreement with them. It was only good business for a rancher to make peace back in the sixties when there was no army here for protection. I've been able to do precious little to help them.”

  “Not for want of trying, Colin. You're a good man,” she said with passionate conviction, trying to shake him from his dark reverie now that he had cleansed away the poison he had kept locked inside for so many years.

  “I'm just a rich hypocrite. An illiterate foreigner with blood on his hands. If I became respectable, it was only because...”

  “Because you met Elizabeth?” she prompted, steeling herself. She had to know if his first wife's ghost would always stand between them. “She introduced you to a whole new world. You must've loved her very much.”

  He was still mired in the ugliness of the past, but something in Maggie's voice stirred him. He looked up, meeting her pain-filled eyes. He found no condemnation, no contempt for his hypocrisy or the cruel and hateful way he had treated her. Rather, her eyes were filled with sadness and insecurity. “You're afraid of her.” The realization washed over him.

  “I'm nothing like her. She was a lady. Yes, Colin, I'm afraid of her hold over you. She died fifteen years ago and you never chose to remarry.”

  A wry smile touched his lips fleetingly. “But I did remarry.” He pulled her closer to him, struggling for the right words. “I always felt as if I didn't deserve Elizabeth because she was so pure and good.”

  “What does that make me, Colin? Your penance? Do you deserve a whore because you were a scalper?” She could not keep the hurt from her voice.

  He shook his head sadly. “No, Maggie. You're too good for me. From the first moment I saw you, I felt a fascination, a hunger—something I couldn't explain. I tried to rationalize my feelings away as simple lust, but I was lying to myself. I lied to you and I hurt you. I'm sorry. I do love you, Maggie.”

  She should settle for that. Once she would have been thrilled to hear the words; but now, perversely, a part of her yearned for something more, something she did not even comprehend. “I love you, Colin. That was why I made my outrageous proposal to you in San Luís.”

  He could sense her hesitation, so he plunged ahead. “What I feel for you is different than what I felt for Elizabeth.” She stiffened warily in his arms but remained still as he continued. “I was grateful to Elizabeth. I worshiped her—put her on a pedestal—but that isn't the way a man should feel about his woman. She was a good wife who did her duty...until she became pregnant and asked to be excused because of her delicate condition.”

  Maggie could not imagine a virile man like Colin being celibate. Yet she could not imagine him betraying his wedding vows, either. “So you did as she asked.”

  “Yes. It wasn't nearly as difficult to stay out of her bed when I was a randy young stud of twenty-three as it has been to stay out of yours now. That made me feel guilty and angry. I turned that anger on you, denying what I really felt. I burn for you, Maggie!”

  A real marriage should have fire. Eileen's words flashed into her mind. Lord knew, even when she and Colin had nothing else, they always had the fire. “And you won't ever feel guilty or be angry again?” She tipped her head up and stared into his whiskey gold eyes.

  A crooked grin spread across his face once more and his eyes darkened with passion. “No, I won't feel guilty about loving you more than I did Elizabeth; but as to getting angry—woman, you make me crazy!”

  His mouth came down on hers, tasting of smoke and desire, hot, seeking and joyous. She opened for him, clutching his broad shoulders, kneading her nails into his muscles, moaning low in her throat as she felt the answering rumble of his rough growl of possession.

  They embraced fiercely in the moonlight for several moments, letting their bodies seal what their painful confessions had revealed. Slowly they broke apart, realizing they were out in the middle of nowhere, alone in the desert night. When Maggie looked into his eyes, her face was smeared with soot. With a tender smile he rubbed at it.

  “I've marked you,” he said softly. “You're almost as filthy as I am, and I could sure use a bath. We'd better see about riding back to that relay station, but first there is one thing...”

  He reached into his vest pocket and took out her ring. “I believe this belongs to you, wife,” he said softly as he slipped it on her finger. It glowed in the moonlight until he covered her hand in his and squeezed it. Maggie's face tilted up to his with tears shining in her eyes as she looked at his beloved features.

  Her fingers gently skimmed over his sooty skin, then examined his singed clothes. “You've been hurt—burned, Colin. What happened to you?”

  “Let's ride to the station. I'll tell you on the way.” He whistled for Sand, then swung onto the big buckskin and pulled her up in front of him.

  She nestled in his arms, feeling cherished and at peace as she never before had in her life. As they rode, Colin briefly outlined what had happened to Eden and Wolf in the past several days, concluding with the final conflagration at Barker's mercantile.

  “That whey-faced Edward Stanley was the man behind the Tucson Ring! Amazing. Poor old Sophie Stanley. I suppose Lucille Guessler will displace her as the reigning matriarch in Prescott society now.”

  Colin grunted. “I'm a good deal more concerned with finding shelter for the night than with what that pack of harridans will do. Let them fight with nets and tridents for all I care.”

  At the image of icy regal Sophie and plump fluttery Lucille embattled like Roman gladiators Maggie chuckled, then laughed.

  Colin nuzzled her neck, whispering, “What's so amusing?”

  She wiped tears of mirth from her eyes and whispered, “Nothing really. I'm just so happy, I'm giddy as a schoolgirl, I suppose.” She paused, then asked in a low voice, “Colin, do you suppose the beds in the station will be soft—or big enough?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  * * * *

  The station was a sprawling adobe building with a traditional central courtyard. At one side the horses were stabled and at the other the kitchen and dining rooms for travelers were situated. Accommodations for overnight passengers and other wayfarers were simple, but Colin McCrory's name was known even in such an isolated place. Within an hour, they were in a spartanly furnished but clean room with a big tub of warm water emitting steam into the cool night air.

  “Ladies first,” Colin said when the maid had closed the door, leaving them alone. He gestured to the big tub, but his eyes devoured her.

  “There's plenty of room for two.” Her eyes mirrored his hunger as she walked slowly toward him.

  “I'm filthy from the fire. I'll foul the water,” he said, his voice low and husky.

  “I don't care. There's plenty more. Anyway, you may have burns that need tending. Ill have to inspect every inch of you to be certain you're all right.” She spoke slowly, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue as she reached up to lay her hands on his chest. Deft fingers began to unfasten the buttons, gliding inside the frayed cotton cloth to caress the crisp silver-dusted dark chest hair.

  His breath caught, and his heart began to race. “Maggie, Maggie,” he whispered as his hands held her face, studying its strong, lovely planes. His eyes traveled over every contour, the straight slim nose, wide China blue eyes with their thick auburn lashes, the high cheekbones and arched eyebrows. A patrician face, bespeaking generations of breeding. “You are so beautiful. I adore you, Mrs. McCrory.” The pads of his thumbs gently traced where his eyes had traveled.

  Maggie closed her eyes for a moment in pure bliss as she leaned against him, feeling the warm, solid strength of her husband's body. His hands moved slowly lower, caressing her slender throat, then working the fastenings of her suit jacket. She helped him, quickly shrug
ging it off. While he unbuttoned her frilly blouse, she slid the tattered shirt from his shoulders.

  When he slipped the blouse free and cupped her breasts through her lacy camisole, she arched against his hands, moaning softly as he seemed to weigh the incredibly sensitive globes. “Your body is lush, perfect. Don't ever lace it up in corsets,” he whispered.

  Soon corsets won't fit. She would have to tell him about the baby. But not now. Not yet. She reached down and began to work on his belt buckle while her tongue laved at the smooth sleek muscles of his chest and shoulders. In moments, they had undressed each other. Maggie made a great production of having him stand nude in the center of the room with the lamplight gilding his big powerful body. She touched the abraded and blistered skin on his back and neck with soft, brushing kisses.

  “Better than burn ointment. Much better,” he whispered, loving her boldness, so at odds with the ladylike demeanor she always presented to the outside world. When her cool hands pressed his shoulders, guiding him to kneel in the tub, he did as she indicated. “Now you must join me,” he invited, reaching up with his hands to run them lovingly over the creamy curves of her hips.

  She stepped into the tub and knelt, facing him, a cloth and bar of soap in her hands. He reached out for them. “Allow me?” Maggie handed them to him. Colin dropped the cloth and lathered his hands with the soap. He began to caress her skin, starting with her fingers and moving up her arms to the fine curve of her collarbone. Using more soap, he turned his attention to the ripe fullness of her beckoning breasts. The pink tips turned rosy in the warm water, puckering to hard nubs when he circled them gently with soap-slicked fingertips.

  “They're heavier, fuller. Life in Arizona must agree with you,” he whispered as he glided a fiery trail down to span the indentation of her waist.

  “Life as your wife agrees with me,” she murmured as he reached for her buttocks and pulled her closer. She could feel the hard insistence of his arousal, prodding into the slight swell of her belly. “Give me that soap,” she whispered raggedly.

  Copying his movements, she lathered up her hands and began by sudsing his hair and face, then took the cloth and rinsed when he complained of keeping his eyes closed against the soap. “I want to see what we're doing.”

  She continued the methodical bathing, rubbing in small, tight circles with the suds until it formed white frothy whorls in his chest hair. When her hands began to bathe his staff, sliding up and down the rigid length, squeezing, then cupping with cunning fingers, he threw back his head and gritted his teeth, breathing a low oath of amazed pleasure.

  Colin returned the compliment, reaching for the soft reddish curls between her legs and lathering the swollen delicate petals until she cried out his name. In moments, they were covered head to foot with suds, their skin glistening as their bodies glided against each other, reaching, rubbing, caressing. Their breathing had grown fast and rough in counterpart to the slow and delicate way their hands and bodies moved.

  Finally, with trembling hands Colin reached for one of the tall clay pitchers of rinse water sitting beside the tub and raised it to Maggie's shoulders.

  “I can't wait any longer,” he said hoarsely, pouring the clean water over her. When the heavy pot was half empty, he turned it on himself, holding it over his head and letting the cool water sluice down his body.

  Maggie watched the droplets as they slid, letting her splayed fingers follow their course down his chest and over his hard belly until she held his phallus once again in her hands. “I think you're clean enough. Let me tend your...burns,” she whispered, releasing him with an enticing smile.

  “What burns worst isn't where the fire touched me.” His breathing was ragged as he stepped out of the tub and swept her into his arms.

  “Colin, we're soaking wet—the sheets—”

  “They'll dry. We'll burn them up!” He lay her on the bed and followed the invitation she offered, her arms and legs open to embrace him. Feeling her beneath him, her heart beating against his was such sweet, sweet homecoming. He longed to hold her, to cherish her; yet his flesh did burn for her, and he could feel the answering hunger in her arms.

  “Now, Colin, now.” Her husky voice urged him to take her.

  He needed no encouragement as he raised above her, looking down into her face as he plunged deep inside her. She raised up to meet him, her blue eyes holding his gold ones. He thrust, she arched. At first it was swift and rough, a wild, joyous affirmation of reunion and reassurance. He had come after her and she had returned to him. Now, the rest of their lives beckoned.

  As that thought slowly permeated the lusty haze of passion, their caresses gentled, grew slow and languorous again, every thrust and withdrawal exquisite with tenderness. She drew his head down to hers for a drugging kiss. Their lips brushed and tongues darted, tasting, teasing, while their hands explored. Colin supported his weight on his elbows and buried his fingers in her hair, pulling the pins free, massaging her scalp gently.

  Maggie ran her palms softly over the tender skin on his back, realizing how close she had come to losing him—not only because she had left him, but because he had almost died in that fire with Barker and Stanley. But he had not. Her husband, the father of her child, was alive, here with her, loving her. And suddenly she could not wait. She wanted it all.

  Colin felt her abrupt shift from tender languor to keen urging. He let go of his steely control, riding her hard and fast, feeling her body answer his with fiery abandon, bucking and shuddering, sobbing out his name as the tremors wracked her.

  The force of her release sent Maggie spinning as if she had been thrust amid the glittering stars that filled the night sky outside their window. Breathless, she trembled and clung to him, letting her senses flood with indescribable ecstasy as she felt his phallus swell and explode so deep within her he surely must have touched the child they had already created.

  Colin threw back his head and gave in to glory, the shuddering waves of her tight slick sheath pushing his orgasm to near madness. Never, with any woman, had there been this intensity, this unbearable sweetness at the very apex of passion. He collapsed on top of her, kissing her face and throat softly between gasping breaths, smelling the soft musky essence of her skin that combined sex with lilies of the valley.

  After they had lain quietly for a while, regaining their composure, returning to earth, he rolled them over, lifting her so she lay on his chest, their legs still entwined. “Don't ever leave me, Maggie. I couldn't live without you. I never knew, until I'd thrown away your love, what a precious gift it was.”

  She buried her face in the curve of his shoulder and tasted the saltiness of his skin against her lips as she whispered, “I was the one who almost lost you—in that fire. Oh, Colin, if you hadn't escaped...” She shuddered and held him tightly.

  “I owe my life to our future son-in-law. Judging from the way Eden was looking at him—and he was looking back—maybe I'd better see they're married as soon as possible,” he added.

  “That might be a wise idea,” she replied, already knowing that Eden and Wolf were lovers. Working up her courage, she decided this was the moment to tell him about their baby. “You might become a grandfather almost as soon as you're going to become a father again.” Maggie could feel him grow very still, his body tensing. She forced herself to meet his eyes.

  Colin searched her face and saw the look of radiant hope on it combined with wary hesitation. She's afraid of my reaction. He reached up and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “You're certain?”

  “I couldn't believe it, but Dr. Torres convinced me.”

  “I thought you couldn't have any more children.” He tried to keep the fear out of his voice.

  “It's a miracle, Colin.” Please say you want this child, my love. “I was positive that I was barren after my daughter died...but now I realize...perhaps it took love.” She swallowed hard and laid her face on his chest again. “I had always felt so dirty, so defiled...I hated it. The instant a customer wo
uld leave, I'd rush to scrub myself, trying to wash away my unbearable guilt.”

  He stroked her hair falling in dark splendor across her back. “And with me you never did that. You held my seed inside you, wanting this.” His hand paused in its softly caressing pattern on her back. “Was this child part of the reason you were leaving?”

  “I wouldn't hold you that way. I wanted you to love me—to want me for your wife without being forced any more than I had already forced you. That last day in the hotel room I knew you desired me and you hated yourself for it. Then, when I thought you were being blackmailed because of me, I couldn't bear it. I—”

  “Shh...Maggie, don't, don't,” he crooned, feeling the pain in her voice. “I've wronged you so many times. Can you forgive me?”

  “You know I have. I love you so much, nothing else matters.” Except that you want this child.

  “l couldn't bear to lose you, Maggie,” he blurted out, holding her in a crushing grip. “I felt guilty when Elizabeth died—but I didn't love her the way I love you!”

  “I'm going to be fine. I'm not like Elizabeth, Colin. I'm strong and healthy and I want this baby—I want all the babies you can give me.”

  The impassioned plea in her voice tore at his heart. “Oh, Maggie, I want to believe, but I don't deserve this happiness.”

  “Then...then it is happiness—you do want another child? A son to run Crown Verde?”

  ”A child created from our love—yes, my darling, I want it and I don't give a damn if it's a son or a daughter, just that it's ours and that you'll be safe.”

  She smiled down at him, glowing with joy now. “I think your old friend Aaron Torres is a pretty fair doctor. He's already assured me I'm as healthy as can be and should have no trouble—except for my morning indisposition.” She frowned, realizing that her dreadful penchant for upchucking in the mornings would no doubt worry him.