Suzanna

by Stevie MacFarlane

  “Well, I’m not lazy or spiteful,” Martha decreed, “but I have been known to bite Ethan’s head off on occasion.”

  “And has he ever raised a hand to you?”

  “No, but he’s threatened to pull me over his lap. What if after I marry him he turns into a big bully and beats me?”

  “That’s what cast iron skillets are for,” Charlotte replied with a smile.

  Martha giggled.

  “Now what are we going to do about Suzanna?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Charlotte gasped in surprise.

  “I think Suzanna is one of those people who think they can get away with anything. Usually if you give them enough rope, they hang themselves.”

  Charlotte looked doubtful, but she agreed with one concession.

  “All right, I’ll keep quiet for now, but we must agree she doesn’t leave this house for good unless one of us goes through her things. I think she’s hidden away quite a few items that don’t belong to her and I’m not talking about the money Hugh gave her.”

  “Agreed,” Martha stated, rising and smoothing her hair. “Now I’m going to go and finish her highness’s dress.”

  “Oh, must you?” Charlotte cried in protest.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “What have you decided about Ethan?”

  “I’m going to set a date,” she said walking out the bedroom door, “as soon as I acquire a very heavy skillet,” she added, sticking her head back in the room and grinning.

  Charlotte laughed and picked up her tatting. She hoped she was right about Ethan Jorgenson. He seemed fair minded in all ways and he obviously adored Martha, even if it did come out of his mouth like “Marta.” It was sweet.

  As far as Suzanna, she prayed Martha was right about that as well. Tomorrow she would work extra hard on the marshal’s house. In fact, she might even slip over there tonight. She could get a lot done and her heart went out to him in so many ways. Yes, after the others retired for the night, she’d take a mare and ride over. Those walls weren’t going to paper themselves.

  Chapter Eight

  Charlotte slipped quietly from the house and made her way to the barn. She palmed an apple and held it out to Maisy, the gentlest mare in the stable. Easily, she tossed a saddle blanket over her back and slipped the reins over her head.

  It was late, after eleven, but she led the mare carefully from the stall, mindful to keep her as quiet as she could. A few minutes later she was mounted and walking her down the drive slowly. Once she reached the road, she lightly prodded her sides, nudging her into a cantor. A full moon assisted her, lighting the way as though they’d made a prior agreement and Charlotte smiled.

  She wasn’t afraid, she knew the way like the back of her hand and, for once, she had a clear, dry night. With luck she could at least finish papering the dining room before it was time to head back. If she could be back in her room before dawn, no one would be the wiser.

  Dismounting in front of the house, she tied the reins to the porch rail. Inside the front door was a lamp which Charlotte lit as soon as she entered the house. My, it really was turning into a cozy little home, she thought with pride as she carefully wiped her feet on the rag rug. No matter what happened, the man she’d dreamed about would now have a comfortable place to hang his hat.

  Moving through to the kitchen, she pushed up her sleeves and tied her apron around her waist.

  She pumped water into a basin and sprinkled the glue mixture on top, stirring until she had a thick paste. Papering alone was tricky, but Charlotte didn’t let that stop her. It was merely a matter of determination and the desire to do a good job. Measuring and cutting each piece was relatively simple. Brushing on the glue and matching up the print was more difficult and she had to stand on a wooden box to accomplish it, but the results after she smoothed all the bubbles from the paper were worth it. Taking a damp cloth, Charlotte wiped away the excess glue and stood back to admire her work. It had taken several hours to finish, but now she could move the furniture back in place and it would look like a real dining room.

  Rubbing a kink from her neck, she cleaned up and pushed and pulled the table to the middle of the room. The buffet was easier as it had little wheels and could be rolled. Using bees wax she polished everything to within an inch of its life and set the chairs around the table. In the buffet drawer, she’d found a lace table cloth earlier in the week and gently washed it, hanging it in the sun to dry. It looked beautiful on the table now and she added a pair of pewter candlesticks with tall tapers that Mrs. Jordon had given her.

  Satisfied, she swept the floor and cleaned up her supplies in the kitchen. Goodness she was tired. Looking out the kitchen window, she realized that the moon no longer shone brightly and some clouds must have rolled in. It was after three o’clock. Maybe she should wait until they passed by before trying to return home.

  Coming to a decision, she washed her face and hands and blew out the lamp in the kitchen. Charlotte left the one she’d placed on the dining room table between the candlesticks turned down low and entered the bedroom, leaving the door ajar. Quickly she unbuttoned her dress, slipping it off and draping it over a chair. She might as well catch an hour or so of sleep, she thought, taking down her hair and leaving it in a thick braid down her back. Crawling onto the bed, she pulled the quilt over her, promising herself she would wake with the first rays of dawn and scamper home.

  Marshal Cole Hadley was nearly asleep as he let his horse lead the way to the barn. Dragging himself off of the mount, he unsaddled Tracer and led him to his stall, giving him a good measure of oats. With slow steps, he approached the back door of his home and let himself in.

  Making his way to the sink, he pumped up some cold water and stuck his head under, washing his face and hands. Reaching blindly for a towel he finally found one hanging from a rod on the side of the cupboard and dried off, using it to wipe his armpits and calling it close enough to a bath for now.

  In the dining room he looked around in surprise. Damn, it felt like a real house. Suzie must have been busy, he thought shaking his head in awe. Maybe being married wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. The place didn’t even smell like his, it smelled… well, clean, and feminine. Damn.

  The bedroom door was ajar and he opened it. There was just enough light for him to see there was another person in his bed, a small one. Had she already moved in? Should he leave? Hell, it was his house and he was dog-assed tired. Entering the bedroom, he closed the door behind him and undressed in the dark. If the woman was in that much of a hurry to share his bed, who was he to disappoint her? Besides, they would be married soon. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to just crawl in next to her and go to sleep. It wouldn’t be much different than what they’d done that night under the stars.

  She stirred when he laid down next to her on his back, his weight causing her to roll close to his side. Turning his head, he sniffed her hair, he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  “Sweet,” he sighed in satisfaction.

  When she turned over to face his direction and snuggled up against him, he decided maybe he wasn’t so tired after all. A certain part of his anatomy seemed to be wide awake. Gently, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and nudged her closer. He heard her soft sigh as she moved her head to his chest, flopped an arm across his belly and curled her leg around his thigh.

  Rock hard became forged steel, his cock tenting the heavy quilt like it was the finest linen. Softly, he began to rub her shoulder. Soon his long arm touched her collar bone and finally he was able to brush her breast. He could feel her nipple poking against his side and groaned.

  Heaven and hell wrapped up in one small package, he sighed. Would it be so wrong to take her? After all, she was going to be his wife. They wouldn’t be the first couple to jump the gun and they sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. Turning, he maneuvered his big body onto his side, facing her.

  “Would ya’ll quit hoggin’ the bed?” she drawled, flailing her arm for a mo
ment.

  Cole chuckled, such a sweet voice. He’d forgotten how cute she sounded when she was being herself, a lovely southern belle. Apparently, her appealing drawl was genuine cause she was surely half asleep. To take advantage of her now would be the act of a true reprobate he decided just before he placed a finger under her chin and tipped her lips up to his. For a moment she stiffened, until his mouth brushed hers.

  “Oh honey girl, tell me I’m not dreaming,” he pleaded.

  “Marshal Hadley?” she whispered, her hand on his chest.

  “Cole, honey. Cole will do.” Claiming her lips, he tightened his arms around her, moaning as her full breasts brushed against his chest.

  “Am I dreaming?” she asked sleepily.

  “Maybe,” he replied, kissing her cheek and moving down to her ear. “It seems we could both be dreaming.” He felt her relax in his arms, melting against him.

  “I guess it’s all right then,” she conceded. “I’ve had this dream before, but I never get to the end,” she said mournfully.

  “We’ll get to the end tonight, darlin’. I promise.” Unless I die of pleasure first, he thought as he reached down to cup her bottom and pull her snuggly to him. His fingers clutched her chemise and walked it up to her waist. Carefully he used his hand to open the slit in her drawers and felt her bare bottom. Lord her skin was soft, soft as a lamb’s ear. Using both hands, he lifted her higher in his arms. They were face to face in the dark, each of them holding their breath. She was wrapped up in his arms as though he would never let her go and it occurred to him that he might not be able to stop if she asked him too.

  Cole kissed her as carefully as he could while his body shook with need.

  “Are you sure?” he asked with his lips still touching hers.

  “Oh yes,” she sighed. “I love this dream.”

  Feeling her mouth smiling against his, he crushed her to him, taking what she offered so freely. With a quick twist of his body he turned her onto her back, settling between her legs. Gripping both of her hands with one of his he drew them above her head and pulled down her chemise with his teeth, freeing her breasts. There was almost no light, but that didn’t hinder him from finding her prominent nipple and latching on.

  She arched into him, offering up her breast so beautifully he nearly cried. Her legs fell farther apart, welcoming him and he wondered what the fuck was wrong with him that he’d never wanted a woman of his own before. Forcing himself to slow down, he worried her nipples with his mouth until she whimpered and lifted her hips. He could feel her dewy center and moved against it without entering her. Over and over again he slid along her crease, pressing the length of his cock as close as he could while listening for sounds of her discomfort and backing off a bit when he heard them. Each time they returned to sighs and moans of pleasure.

  It sure wouldn’t be hard to find out what his woman liked and what she didn’t he thought, smiling in satisfaction. The tiny mewling sounds that escaped from her throat made her feelings known.

  He could come just from this, rubbing his thick cock between her legs. She was slippery, so warm and silky he would come and soon he realized, gritting his teeth. He didn’t want to spend against her belly, even though that might be the wisest course of action given the circumstances. He paused.

  “Cole,” she cried out breathlessly.

  “I’m here darlin’,” he assured her, moving again. Circumstances be damned. He had to take her, had to have her. He needed to be deep inside her body when he pumped his seed into her, filling her, claiming her. There were no acceptable alternatives to him. His body was wracked with an all-consuming desire he’d never experienced before.

  Suddenly she cried out, her legs wrapping tightly around him as she rocked against him. He released her hands and they flew to his shoulders pulling him closer.

  “I have to take you now, sweet girl,” he whispered against her lips after letting her nipple pop free from his mouth. “It might hurt a bit, but I’ll make it up to you, angel, I swear.” With those words, he took her hips in his hands and guided his cock to her entrance. With a swift and sure thrust he was inside, holding her squirming body tightly to his.

  “Oh,” she cried out, fighting to get away.

  “Please hang on, honey,” he pleaded, his body shaking with pleasure. “It will get better in a minute.” He held her through her struggle to accept him, whispering soft words of encouragement and praise. Releasing one of her hips when she began to weaken, he reached up and brushed her cheek, feeling a tear.

  “Oh God, honey. Please don’t cry, you’ll break my heart,” he murmured hanging his head. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  Cole was surprised to feel her hand caressing his cheek and he kissed her palm ardently. Then her hips twitched and her pussy contracted around him. Relief such as he’d never known washed over him. Carefully he pulled back, withdrawing from her snug cavern and she pinched his arm and arched her hips. With a mighty laugh he got down to business, loving her for all he was worth and nearly giving himself heart failure. Each deep thrust had her crying out and quivering in his hold.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Never,” she whispered back.

  And he didn’t, not until she’d clamped so tightly around him as she cried out his name he thought she’d suck the soul out of him right along with his seed. He filled her, more than filled her and he couldn’t seem to stop. Never in all his days had he imagined anything like it and, as soon as he rolled off her trying to catch his breath, he was hard again. Flipping her on her side he entered her from behind, his big hand splayed across her belly holding her in place. As he neared the end he pushed his fingers lower separating her lips and stroking until she screamed out her pleasure. He erupted again, the sound of her voice sending him over the cliff. Holding her tightly to him, he rode out his crisis, feeling hers in every fiber of his being.

  They rested, side by side with Cole holding her hand. A flicker of daylight sneaked in the window and Cole yawned and threw his arm over his eyes.

  “I love what you’ve done with the house,” he murmured, “at least what I could see of it. I think you and I are going to be very happy here, Suzie.”

  Charlotte turned over and faced the wall, her heart frozen, appalled at what she’d done. She felt Cole pat her bottom just before he started snoring. Carefully, quietly she slid out of bed, gathered her clothes and escaped into the cold light of the breaking day.

  It was relatively simple to fade away from the large group of people standing on the wharf what with all the hugging and kissing nonsense that was going on. For one brief moment Suzanna had the opportunity to shove both Effie and her mama into the water, but she restrained herself with great difficulty. It would have seemed gratifying to see them floundering in the cold water, hindered by their expensive clothes, but it was far more important for her to get to the Payne.

  She’d reserved a room there and had been slowly transferring her things all week. In short order she would be on a stage heading for Portland and her future. Thankfully, the management at the Payne had agreed to store her trunk until she arrived and her arrival was imminent, she thought as she climbed the steps and went straight to the desk.

  “I have a room reserved,” she stated sweetly. “Miss Suzanna Jefferies.”

  “Ah yes, I have it right here. I understand your things are already in room twelve, Miss Jefferies. Now if you’ll just sign here,” he continued, turning the registration book toward her. “Will you be staying long?”

  “No, actually I’m leaving on the afternoon stage. I just needed somewhere to freshen up. Please send up a maid to assist me, and I’ll want my things taken to the stagecoach depot before two.”

  “Yes, Miss Jefferies. I’ll see to it.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, taking the key from his hand and walking to the stairs. She never noticed the man watching her from a table in the restaurant.

  Dalton finished his meal and wiped his mouth bef
ore tossing some money on the table. Casually he strolled to the desk and spoke with the balding man.

  “Was that Miss Jefferies?” he asked, tipping his hat back on his head.

  “What’s it to you?” the man snapped, busying himself with a stack of messages.

  “I thought I recognized her and wanted to make sure,” Dalton replied. “Her family and mine are well acquainted.”

  “You don’t say,” drawled the clerk as he continued on with his work.

  “Yes, I do say,” Dalton responded, straightening as he began to grow angry at the man’s attitude. “Never mind. I’m sure I’ll see her around town,” he stated, turning away.

  “Whether the young woman you’re referring to is Miss Jefferies or not, I can’t say. We don’t give out information regarding our patrons. However, I doubt you’ll be running into that woman around town. She’s leaving on the afternoon stage,” the little man sneered smugly.

  “Thanks,” Dalton said with a grin, flipping a coin through the air toward the man. “Appreciate the information.” Fixing his hat firmly on his head, he whistled as he sauntered from the hotel.

  The beautiful woman who exited the Payne hotel several hours later looked nothing like the young woman who’d entered that morning. Dressed in a stylish light green traveling suit and a new bonnet perched upon her bright curls, she seemed totally in control of her destiny.

  Slapping her key on the desk, she walked briskly to the door and left the building, making her way to the stage depot and carefully avoiding puddles. The stage was on time and she waited barely five minutes before she watched her things being handed up and tied down. She entered the stage first, followed by two gentlemen. One was a portly fellow who rested his chin on his chest and fell asleep before they were five miles out of town. The other a tall, lanky cowboy sort who seemed determined to keep his dusty boots much too close to her pretty new skirt.