“What are you doin’ here?” Joshua moved forward so that he half-obscured Rosie from his father.
“Now, son, that’s no way to greet your pa.”
“I asked what you’re doin’ here. If you’ve come to try to stir up a hornet’s nest then you can just turn right around and get back on your horses. You too, Ma.”
Rosie placed a steadying hand on Joshua’s shoulder. He was strong and muscular beneath her hand, and taut as a wildcat ready to spring. She felt the sinews of his flesh as they tensed and she realized that Mr. Hampton was likely to catch a tongue-lashing if nothing else.
Dylan Hampton removed his hat and ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. His scalp was visible through the gray and Rosie saw him for the first time as an aging man. Not as a rancher to fear, but as a man in his fifties. His face was haggard, as if he had lost weight suddenly, and his eyes were dull. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, he bore the appearance of one suffering from an ailment. She had been right about him when he’d come to the homestead the day of Catherine’s labor. Her chest tightened. Was Mr. Hampton ill? And if so, was Joshua aware? He had said nothing of it to her.
“Joshua, we’ve not come for trouble. Just to ask if you’re certain that this is the right thing to do.”
Mrs. Hampton tucked her arm into her husband’s and Rosie watched the tender way that she held on to him. As if afraid to hold him too tightly in case she hurt him, yet also nervous about letting go in case she lost him.
“Joshua, please don’t be mad. We thought only for the best. It’s all we’ve ever wanted for you and your siblings. The best…” She looked at Rosie. “And if this young woman is the one who makes you happy, then we’ve no quarrel with your choice.”
Joshua turned to Rosie and she registered the confusion on his face. He had not expected this, not at all, and he had still intended to marry her—in spite of his parents’ feelings. Yet here they were, dust covered and saddle weary, having ridden over to the homestead in the afternoon heat, to tell their son that they would accept his choice. Blood rushed through Rosie’s ears and into her cheeks and she stumbled forward.
Before she reached her knees, Joshua scooped her up and pressed her against his chest.
“Rosie, my love, are you well?”
She nodded. “Yes. I just felt a little warm.”
“The baby?” he whispered into her ear.
“Is well, I am sure.”
“Can we continue?”
“Yes. Please.”
He placed her gently onto her feet then gestured at the benches. “Well, you’re welcome to stay if you’d like, but I’ll have no more interruptions. I’m about to make Rosie Duggan my wife.”
The Hamptons appeared relieved at Joshua’s certainty. There was no arguing with a man who was that self-assured and in command of his own life. They sat on the benches and Joshua took Rosie’s hand as the preacher resumed the ceremony and Rosie finally married the man she loved.
* * * *
Rosie leaned against Joshua’s chest, listening to his strong heartbeat and steady, deep breaths. The gray light of dawn seeped into their bedroom and she savored the cool of the early morning, knowing that soon the August heat would become near unbearable. It had been two months since their wedding and she was now five months into her pregnancy.
A flutter in her stomach brought a smile to her face and she rolled onto her back and placed a hand over the bump. Beneath her touch, a foot or a hand pressed upward and she stifled a giggle, afraid of waking her husband.
She had never thought to be so happy, so fulfilled and so contented. She had everything she could ever have wished for and life was so much more than she had thought it could be. Occasionally, fear sneaked in beneath the door and worried her, whispering about things that could go wrong, but Rosie always banished it quickly and tried to reassure herself by thinking of the happy times her family had shared of late and of the joy that the babe in her belly would bring.
She was gently roused by a delicious sensation as Joshua ran his hands over her body. She opened her eyes to find him kneeling next to her, the blankets pushed to the bottom of the bed. They were both naked but the room was warm.
She smiled as Joshua stroked over her shoulders then cupped her full breasts. As her pregnancy had progressed, her curves had grown, and her husband delighted in the fullness of her figure, which made her feel beautiful. Joshua caressed her all the way down to the tips of her toes then back up again, deliberately avoiding her ebony curls, until she stilled his hands.
“You tease me, my love.”
“Me?” He raised his eyebrows. “What would you like me to do?”
Rosie sighed. “As if you don’t know by now.”
He saluted her then straddled her body and kissed a trail over the chocolate brown peaks of her nipples and down to her thighs. He parted them and positioned himself between them then leaned forward and kissed her mound. Rosie whimpered as he parted her with his thumbs then flicked his tongue over her bud until it swelled. He teased her opening with a fingertip, circling her needy flesh yet not thrusting inside her as she yearned for him to do.
“I need you,” she whispered.
“Whatever my wife wants,” he replied.
He moved over her then rolled her gently onto her side and spooned her. Rosie pressed against him and he slipped into her easily, gripping her hips with his strong hands.
As they moved together, Joshua cupped her breasts and squeezed her nipples until they were tight peaks, then he took Rosie’s hand and placed it over her folds so she could feel where they were joined. He held her hand there and it rubbed against her bud as he thrust deeper, bringing her to satisfying, shuddering fulfilment, closely followed by his own.
They stayed as they were then, still joined and as close as they could be, and Rosie allowed herself to drift into a sweet, sated sleep.
* * * *
A loud noise from outside jerked Rosie back to full consciousness.
“Joshua!” She shook her husband.
He opened his eyes and smiled at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her toward him.
“No, my love,” she smiled in spite of herself, “there’s something going on outside.”
Joshua frowned and sat up then reached for his clothes. Rosie admired his broad shoulders and the shapely curve of his behind as he stood and stepped into his trousers then pulled on his shirt.
“Stay here,” he warned, a frown creasing his handsome face. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”
Rosie flung her legs over the edge of the bed. Stay here? Not likely. She pulled her shift over her head and followed it with her housedress then she hurried into the main room of the homestead.
Kenan stood in the doorway with Joshua peering over his shoulder. There was someone outside, speaking in urgent, hushed tones. She edged closer, keen to hear what was being said, but the interloper was clearly agitated and his words were garbled.
Joshua turned and caught her watching them.
“What is it?” Rosie approached him and placed her hands on his chest.
“Yes, what’s wrong?” Catherine crossed the room to Rosie’s side, her chubby cheeked child balanced on her hip.
Joshua frowned. “I think Kenan had better speak to you about this, Catherine.”
Rosie wrapped an arm around Catherine’s shoulder as her sister-in-law’s face blanched.
Kenan approached his wife. “Catherine. Sweetheart. Sit down.”
Catherine shook her head and her long red hair escaped from its loose plait and fell around her face. Kenan took her gently to the sofa and knelt before her. Rebecca reached out and grabbed at his chin then giggled as he kissed her tiny hand.
“Kenan, please, tell me what it is.”
Rosie’s throat tightened at the sadness in Catherine’s eyes.
“Your aunt…Edie…has… She’s passed on, sweetheart. The girl employed to care for your uncle William sent her brother over here to let us know. Appar
ently, it was quick and unexpected. It was peaceful.”
“Oh…” Catherine hung her head.
Rosie bit her lip. Though she had not been well acquainted with Mrs. Montgomery herself, she knew that losing the old woman would hurt Catherine. Kenan had told Rosie that Edie Montgomery had not always been kind to her niece, but Catherine had never said a bad word about her or her uncle.
Rosie approached Catherine. “Do you want me to take her?” She gestured at the baby.
Catherine nodded and Rosie lifted the child into her arms.
“Catherine…there’s one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“The girl who was working for them also said that she feels unable to care for your uncle now. She said it was hard enough with Edie’s help but alone, she cannot manage.”
“So what shall we do?”
“I think I know someone who can help.”
All heads turned to Matthew.
“What do you mean, Matthew?” Kenan got to his feet but kept his hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“I know who’ll be willing to take over William’s care.”
“Who?” Catherine stood next to her husband and took his hand.
“Huyana.” The name of the young woman who had helped Catherine through her labor rolled off Matthew’s tongue.
“But she has employment.” Rosie rocked the little girl in her arms and leaned against Joshua as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Not for long,” Matthew replied. “The lady she’s been lodged with is leaving Virginia City to stay with an aging relative in Billings. Huyana was concerned that she’d be unable to find future employment.”
“And how would you know this?” Kenan stared at his younger brother and Matthew colored.
“I’ve…uh…bumped into her once or twice in town.”
Rosie smiled despite the tense atmosphere in the room. So Matthew had seen the pretty midwife again, had he? She suspected that it might well have been more than the once or twice he had admitted to.
“Right, well, that’s settled then.” Kenan nodded at Matthew. “You head into town later on to see if Huyana is interested in caring for William. Catherine, I’ll get dressed then go to see to the…uh…arrangements for your aunt.”
Kenan led Catherine back toward their bedroom and Rosie watched as her niece opened and closed her chubby hand at her retreating mother. At that moment, her own child moved in her womb and she placed her free hand over the swell of her belly.
Life would come and life would go. It was part of being human.
But her world was full of hope. She was married to the man she loved and expecting their child within months. Her brothers were fit and well and she had a sister-in-law and a niece she adored.
The Duggans would love whomever they would love and that was how it should be. Scars, skin tone, age, sins, past mistakes. None of them mattered in the face of true love.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
The Duggans of Montana: Harlot at the Homestead
Molly Ann Wishlade
Excerpt
Chapter One
“Kenan!” The cry pierced the night like a flaming arrow. “Help me!”
Kenan jumped to his feet, instantly alert. Just moments ago he’d been slumped in the fireside chair, losing the battle against exhaustion as the rain pattering against the windows and the crackling of the fire had lulled him to sleep. After two months on the cattle trail, he’d been relieved to be back at the Duggan homestead and his mind and body had begun to unwind.
But someone needed help. He grabbed his gun belt from the floor by the chair and fastened it around his waist.
“Kenan!” The anguished cry came again, carried on a voice filled with pain and fear.
He turned to check on his siblings, but the three of them stood wide-eyed and pale behind him like unearthly specters haunting the dimly lit room.
So who, on earth, had called him?
“Kenan, what was that?” Rosie rushed to his side and took hold of his arm. The alarm in her amber eyes was echoed in his racing heartbeat.
“It sounded like…” He squeezed his twin sister’s hand. “Like…but it can’t be.”
There was a thud from outside as something landed on the wooden porch. Kenan took hold of Rosie’s shoulders and pushed her back towards their two younger brothers.
“Stay here,” he growled.
As he turned and walked towards the door, he removed his gun from its holster. He held it steady in his right hand and placed his left one on the door handle.
“Matthew, keep Rosie and Emmett well back.”
Matthew nodded his dark head, his own gun already cocked.
Kenan released the catch and slowly opened the door, letting in the black night, the rain and a dead woman.
“Dear Lord in Heaven!” Rosie appeared at Kenan’s side as he lifted the inanimate woman in his arms and carried her towards the warmth of the fire. She was drenched and ice cold. He laid her on the rag rug in front of the hearth and gazed at her.
“Kenan?” Rosie patted his shoulder and he stared into her bewildered eyes.
“It can’t be.”
Matthew knelt at Kenan’s side and frowned at the sight before him. “How…why…I mean…”
Kenan shook his head. “I have no idea but she’s soaked through and most likely has a fever.” His thudding heart threatened to explode at any moment and as he reached out to smooth back the girl’s sodden red hair, his hands trembled violently.
This didn’t make any sense.
He couldn’t fathom how or why, but Catherine Montgomery, the fiancée he’d grieved for the past two years, had appeared out of the blue at his homestead. His mind raced with unanswered questions but a flicker of hope sparked deep in his gut. He realized that in spite of his uncertainty and regardless of his fears, he was darned glad to see her—the woman he’d thought he would never see again.
“We’d better get her out of these wet things.” Rosie nudged Kenan’s shoulder.
“Yeah…of course.” He leaned over and lifted the unconscious woman from the hearth.
She was as light as lamb’s wool and blossoming warmth seeped through her damp clothing. Everywhere their bodies touched, his skin burned like it had been seared with a white-hot poker. He’d dreamt of holding her in his arms so many times and he’d even made silent promises to whatever deity existed that he’d ask no questions if she could just reappear in his life. But now that she had, Kenan was aware that he had a whole barrel full of questions that couldn’t remain unanswered.
“Take her through to my room,” Rosie whispered.
Kenan walked slowly, careful not to bump Catherine’s feet against the table or the door frames. He looked down into her beautiful pale face and savored the beauty of her petite freckled nose and her coral rosebud mouth. Suddenly, she opened her eyes wide. She frowned for a moment then her pupils enlarged and Kenan’s heart leapt with a mixture of love and fear. She’d come back from the dead but how and why? And what had happened to her?
“Kenan,” she croaked and lifted a tiny hand to touch his face. Her fingertips were ice cold and for a moment he wondered if she really was dead—a spirit come to haunt him. Or had his grief finally become too much and his mind cracked with the sheer agony of it all? Maybe insanity would offer him some relief from the daily suffering he endured every time Catherine crossed his mind.
“Put her onto the bed.” Rosie directed him.
He considered refusing and holding onto her, never letting her go again, but she was cold and wet and he realized how ridiculous he was being. “I…I just can’t understand this.” He shook his head as he laid her down. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Of course it doesn’t.” Rosie squeezed his arm. “Some things just don’t. Let me get her changed. You go and make some coffee to warm her up.”
Kenan backed slowly away from the bed, afraid to look away in case Catherine disappeared from view—and his life—
again.
“Kenan!” Rosie waved her hand at him. “Give us some privacy.”
He forced himself to turn and walk from the room, to drag his eyes away from Catherine’s emerald green ones, though he longed to rush back to the bed and take hold of her—to shake her and force her to wake up properly, to explain where she’d been all this time when he’d been grieving her loss. Did she have any idea of how much he’d longed for her, missed her, worried about her?
He shut the door behind him and leaned his forehead against the solid wood, inhaling the comforting scent of the mountain pine. He would give Rosie a moment to help Catherine change and gather her wits but he needed some answers and he needed them tonight.
* * * *
“Here we are,” Rosie announced as she returned to the room. “All dry and warm.”
Kenan turned from where he’d been pacing in front of the fire. Matthew and Emmett had excused themselves from the house and gone out to tend to the animals in the barn. The storm had gathered pace and some of the beasts were becoming distressed. Ironic, Kenan had thought, as inside the house another storm was breaking.
Catherine emerged from behind Rosie and Kenan held his breath. He dug his fingernails into his palms to try to still their trembling. As she walked towards him, he glared at the vision who had haunted his day dreams, screamed for his help and protection in his nightmares and robbed him of all belief in his own masculinity. He had almost been destroyed by the realization that he hadn’t been there for her. He hadn’t protected her when she needed him most.
Damn it, she looked so good. Her hair glowed crimson in the firelight and in spite of his determination to remain aloof, his heart lifted at the sight of her even though his mind insisted that it was impossible. She’d been gone two years. Two whole years of missing that pretty face, those full sensual lips and that soft-as-velvet voice. Twenty four months of wondering how much she’d suffered, how long it had taken her to die and if she’d cried for him as she’d drawn her last breath.
A Rancher for Rosie Page 11