by Stacy Reid
And to Beth’s amazement, August took Grayson and walked away, hollering at all to come and see his grandson. After that everything seemed a blur to Beth. She was tired from the week-long trip, and though they had rested in a few inns, she hadn’t truly slept.
“Where is everyone else?” she asked Joshua, noting how empty the ranch seemed. Only a few men were spotted on horses riding the range. She’d expected to see dozens of ranch hands and cowpunchers.
“More than half of our workers are on a cattle drive, and those who remain are gearing up to do another cattle drive after Ma’s barbecue, which is in a few days’ time.”
At dinner, they’d eaten a fine meal of roasted beef, stuffed baked potatoes, and an apple pie. It had been simple, but well-seasoned and delicious, and she’d met several of Grayson’s cousins who had a neighboring spread several miles away but were already over for the barbecue, and a few ranch hands who were not on the cattle drive. Several questions at her unmarried state had been in their eyes, but everyone had been polite enough not to ask questions. Still, there had been a lot of heated blushing on her part.
Everyone had spoken of Joshua’s brothers, Elijah, and Noah. Laura had taken out a letter from Elijah which she had read. It seemed it was a momentous occasion for the family that he was marrying Sheridan, and Beth had spent some time talking about her friend. Noah wasn't home, and there was no mention as to when he would arrive. But Beth had seen a painting in the parlor of the Kincaids' children—Joshua, Elijah, Noah, Jenny—and Beth admitted they were a handsome lot. Especially Jenny who had shown up to dinner wearing a dress, and flowers in her hair.
A few hours later, with a soft groan, Beth stumbled into the bedchamber that she had been given, blushing when she recalled Laura tartly asking Joshua if they needed only one bedchamber. When he said two, his mother had looked at them again, a strange sort of smile on her lips, one Beth wasn’t able to interpret.
Her bedroom was spacious and tastefully decorated with a large four poster bed with an ornately carved bedpost and shimmering curtains surrounding it, the likes of which she had only seen back home in Virginia, and for the brief time she’d lived in St. Louis. There was a sofa, a vanity with a gilt-framed mirror. The walls had a couple of paintings of the mountains and rivers of the west, and the curtains covering the windows were of blue and silver silk. Not even her room back in Virginia had been this wonderful. August had taken out a cradle from storage and set it up in her room. He’d proudly told her all his children had used it, and now it belonged to Grayson, who had been all excited about the attention he got.
He wasn’t sleeping with her tonight, and she did not mind. As for how August told it, he didn’t want to wake her when he took Grayson out for a ride in the morning to show him the ranch. She hadn’t the heart to point out he was only ten months’ old and wouldn’t care about the spread. Nor could she mention that they would go to Boston eventually. She’d already gathered that such an announcement would break the family’s heart, so Joshua would inform them when the time came.
She’d taken a bath earlier before dinner, so she stripped out of her skirt and ruffled shirt and slipped into a soft cotton nightgown, climbed onto the bed and waited. What she waited on she didn't know, but Beth was unable to sleep. Hours had passed, and she laid on her side staring through the windows into the sky. All night long a soft rain fell, and she listened to the patters against the windows, thinking of Joshua. And when she finally fell asleep, she dreamt of Joshua Kincaid.
Chapter 9
“Wake up.”
Though the whisper was soft, Beth surged awake immediately, her gaze snapping to the small bed-side table where her gun and knife rested. It took a precious second to gather her bearings, but it was the clean, male scent of Joshua that relaxed her.
Puffing out a breath, she pushed back the cover and moved into a sitting position. “What is it?”
“We’re going riding.”
She peeked through the window she had opened sometime during the night. “Dawn has not yet broken.”
“It’s almost five am.”
Beth glared at him, barely able to distinguish his features in the shadowy room. “Why?”
There was a significant pause. “Is it too early?”
She grabbed the warm pillow and smacked him. Where it landed, she had no idea, but satisfaction filled her. Then she stilled at the realization of what she had done. When he didn’t make a biting comment or backhand her, she began to relax…carefully. Then shame filled her for even anticipating such actions from him. The awareness that she trusted him implicitly with her well being brought a lump to her throat. “I refuse to wake at such an indecent hour.”
"I have heard rumors that southern belles sleep until noon,” he drawled teasingly. “A damn shame, that. One of the best parts of the day is watching as the sky is painted in hues of amber as the day breaks. To hear nature waking, to absorb the shiver of the morning chill against your skin and to feel the first rays of the sun as it warms your face.”
“Joshua?”
“Yes?”
“It won’t work,” she whispered. “I am going back to bed.” Then she snuggled back down and tugged the quilted blanket up to her neck. Her gasp of outrage echoed in the room when he dragged the cover from her in its entirety….and tickled her.
His actions caught her entirely by surprise. She lurched up, trying to push him off, the laughter bubbling her throat unexpected. “Joshua!”
“Mind Grayson,” he murmured, coming over her with the sleek grace of a mountain lion.
“He’s with his grandfather.”
“Our babe started fussing, so I took him a few hours ago. When he fell asleep, I brought him in here. I placed him in the cradle.” Joshua dipped his head and inhaled deeply.
They stilled in the same instance. She could not discern his features, though she made a valiant effort, searching the shadows of his face. Her knees fell open as if they had a will of their own, cradling his hips between her thighs. A sharp hiss slipped from him, and he froze above her.
There was an invitation in her silence, and Beth blushed. “I never knew I was ticklish,” she said softly, for she was at a loss at what else to say.
Anticipation unfurled inside her, and she waited for something to happen. But he did nothing.
“I never knew I could tickle,” he replied, sounding almost bemused.
Beth wanted the man before her to take her into his arms and kiss her, more than she needed her next breath. Yet she made no move toward him, content with luxuriating in the feeling of wanting him and not feeling any fear or anxiety. “Where did you want to ride?”
He smiled, and it was a devastating thing to behold. “Get dressed, and I’ll show you.” Then he launched from between her legs and prowled over to his son, pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and left the room. “I’ll let Ma know that we’re leaving and that I’ll be taking Grayson back to her room.”
Several minutes later Beth had washed her face, parted her hair in the middle and made two plaits, and dressed in a light green shirt, breeches, and tugged on her riding boots. She met him on the front porch, truly surprised to see men already out on the range, and the smell of baked bread redolent on the air. “The next time you wake me this early I am going to shoot you,” she grumbled.
Their horses were already waiting, and as she attempted to mount, he grabbed her hips, his hands sliding over the curve of her buttocks. She swore where he touched her burned. Joshua smiled, slow, and it was filled with such a sensual threat and promise her hands trembled as she took up the reins.
He mounted his stallion, and they cantered away. They did not speak, simply rode with the wind. His pace was quick, but Beth did not mind it, in truth, she felt exhilarated. Several minutes later, they stopped their horses atop a ridge, and Beth inhaled the chill of the fresh air into her being.
“Look down,” Joshua said.
Beth gasped. Cattle were spread in the valley, hundreds, possibly thousands,
as they grazed. “There must be hundreds.”
"The last count was four thousand head."
“And the Triple K owns them?”
“They will be driven to market a few days from now.”
“All of them?” The very notion seemed improbable.
“They are going to various places, Santa Fe, Abilene, Texas. Our workers will separate the herds and organize the cattle drives. Sometimes they take weeks on the trails to reach their destinations. Sometimes I ride with them.”
Her heart trembled. “Are you going this time?”
He was silent for a long time. “Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
She stared at him, relieved, yet oddly disturbed. How was he so important to her, when she hardly knew the man before her? It happened gradually. The day came awake with a pale pink streaking across the sky. A breeze rolled off the mountains, and the grass swayed and bent to the faint stirring of wind. The sleeping steers in the valley rose from the ground, humping their backs to stretch out the stiffness of night. A few lowed, and then they started to graze. “I cannot envision a cattle drive.”
“They take weeks as men drive the cattle through the trails to market, trying to lose as little as possible, and getting them well fattened. They cross deep rivers, lots of broken country and brush, and through Indian territories. It has its dangers. Men must be vigilant on the drives. Sometimes the river crossing is dangerous. There are stampedes to look out for, quicksand, and the storms when they hit. There are days when we would see no one, just follow whichever trail or stream or river is there. You would feel the emptiness of the mountains echoing through you, hear the scream of the eagle and be humbled, watching the vast prairie and be challenged to conquer.”
Beth smiled, a strange easing in her soul as she listened to him. It felt like peace and happiness. “As I said, Joshua Kincaid, you have a way with words.”
He smiled, then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a book.
She leaned over and looked at the worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. “I’ve never read it,” she said softly.
“Read with me?”
“Yes.”
“Then perhaps this evening you’ll ride with me into town.”
“For what purpose?”
He cleared his throat. “We could dine in the hotel or a restaurant.”
The warmth that burst inside of her was surprising and very welcome. “I reckon it will be my pleasure,” she drawled in her best western cadence.
He whirled his horse around, and Beth followed, galloping steadily. When he stopped, she did the same. They dismounted and allowed the horses to graze freely. They lowered themselves into the tall grass along the creek bed. It felt natural to place her head on Joshua’s thigh, and close her eyes. He leaned over and slid his hand into the pocket of her skirt, and it felt as if he touched her naked skin. She felt remarkably breathless.
He retrieved the book from her pocket and started to read.
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife…”
Joshua and Beth rode into town on separate horses. He wore a faded blue shirt, black pants and vest, and a dark blue neckerchief around his neck, his hat pulled low over his forehead. His guns were strapped low on his hips, and she hadn’t objected to them, ensuring her bowie knife was secured in the deep pocket of her skirt.
Dusk painted the sky in muted shades of fire, and there was a soft nip in the air. The two-hour ride into Bravo had been relaxed and filled with banter, a spirited discussion on Miss Bennett and Mr. Darcy and who was more prideful. Beth couldn't recall ever having a more beautiful time or laughing so much.
There were a few cowpunchers in town yelling and being too boisterous. On the street over, a horse streaked down the road, and the man fired his gun into the air. She jerked, and Joshua glanced over at her. “While they are rowdy they are harmless.”
“So, there are no gunfights here?”
He hesitated. “Some, the sheriff is very good. He’s his own man and will not hesitate to throw someone in jail. The law in Bravo is fair and not corrupted.”
Beth was quite aware he was selling the town to her, except she didn’t feel like she needed convincing, she was having a wonderful time. Last night she had even slept through the night with surprising ease. Beth followed suit as he brought his stallion to a halt and dismounted. He helped her down, and she groaned a bit. “I am a bit saddle sore.” Now she wondered if she should have ridden in the buck wagon.
"I have liniment. I can rub you down before we head back."
She gaped at him. “Rub where?”
“The sore spots,” he said, a vein of amusement in his tone.
She tipped and somehow managed to yank the hat off his head. “You expect me to allow you to rub my backside before we head back to the Triple K?”
The dratted man laughed, and her breath hitched. How beautiful he sounded. Still, she was not about to allow his outrageous suggestion to provoke her.
“Where is Maggie’s restaurant?” she asked archly.
Grabbing his hat from her, he slapped it on his head and directed them toward the stables.
The streets were crowded with rigs and wagons, and she was glad they had ridden despite her aching rear. They corralled their horses and made their way to the boardwalk. They strolled past a general store, a hotel, and a few other assorted shops before they came to Maggie’s place. Joshua held the door opened for her, and with a smile and a teasing curtsy, Beth entered.
The inside was a pleasant surprise, for it was tastefully decorated in vibrant pine colors, the chairs, and tables of the finest design. The scents wafting from the kitchen caused an embarrassing rumble in her stomach. There were curtains at the windows and blue-and-white tablecloths and napkins. There were blue and white patterned china plates on the table, an unexpected delight. At the few restaurants she had been in the west, there had been tin plates and wooden bowls.
A handsome woman bustled over to them, pleasure dancing in her eyes. She was buxom with wide hips, a generous cleavage, dark hair peppered with a few grey hairs, and piercing blue eyes. “Joshua Kincaid! I have not seen you in months.”
“Maggie,” he greeted, pressing a kiss to her cheek. The woman beamed up at him, then settled her regard on Beth.
“Well now, I’ve never seen you bring a woman here. Must be someone special.”
His grin was sheepish, and Beth's eyes widened. Was Joshua blushing? The idea was so outrageous…yet…
“She is,” he said. And then it was her turn to blush at the quick, hungry look he sent her way before schooling his features.
He made quick introductions, and they were led to a table in the corner, almost to the back of the room. Beth liked the privacy it gave them. His eyes ignored everyone, but Beth could sense that he knew where every man in the restaurant was, and though his gaze never left her, he was aware of them.
“I thought this town was peaceful.”
He looked mildly surprised. “It is.”
“Then why are you so on edge?”
He stilled momentarily, and then the tension eased from his shoulders. "It never pays not to be careful. And I’m a careful man.”
And that careful intensity gave him an air of coiled ruthlessness that made most people wary. Surely, he saw this. To live a life where one must be on constant guard. But wasn’t that the gist of the west? Certainly, she had been irrevocably changed. “Isn't it tiring always to be so…ready?”
“I don’t notice it.”
He wouldn’t, would he?
“How do you like being on the Triple K?”
“I’ve been there a day.”
“So, you’ve formed no impression?”
Maggie came over, and Joshua and Beth placed in orders for steaks, baked sweet potatoes topped with pecans, and a pecan pie. She also sent over the best whiskey in the country.
Beth took
a sip of the amber liquid and spluttered.
“You’re a greenhorn I see.”
“Women do not drink whiskey back home.” She smiled at him, and she loved the way he stared at her mouth as if he couldn’t help himself. “I feel…free, Joshua. It has only been a day, but I feel happiness I have not felt in a long time.” She felt safe. The awareness squeezed her heart. “Your mother is wonderful. I see the question in her eyes, but she doesn’t press. And your father…” Beth laughed. “Your family is wonderful, Joshua. I like being here with you,” she confessed.
“Enough to marry me?”
Beth laughed, appreciating the humor dancing in his eyes.
“I just might Joshua Kincaid.”
Their food came, and they ate and laughed, and Beth drank more whiskey than was wise, for she felt delightfully light headed by the time they left the restaurant. They walked along the boardwalk, the hem of her skirt brushing against his pants.
“You said there were times you drifted for months, simply riding the trails.”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you ever get lonely?”
“For a woman?”
She gasped and slapped his arm. “For any company!”
“I had company when I needed.”
They were silent for a bit, then she asked, “And women?”
“A few here and there, none after I met you though.”
Heat and pleasure curled through her. “I think I might climb into your bed tonight, Joshua Kincaid.”
He stumbled on the boardwalk, and Beth laughed, then sobered abruptly. What had she just said? She scowled. “I’m never drinking whiskey again.”
A ragged sob sounded, and she paused, glancing down the alley between the hotel and the general store. Someone leaned against the wall of the hotel, taking deep breaths. She glanced up at Joshua, and then without second-guessing her decision, she made her way down the alley.
“Are you well?’ Beth demanded softly, trying not to frighten the girl.
She failed, for the girl spun around with a shriek, and slapped her hand over her mouth.