One Bright Morning

by Duncan, Alice

  But Maggie only looked up at him in astonishment. “You—you want to marry me?” she asked incredulously.

  Jubal cleared his throat again. “Well—well, I’ve been thinking about it,” he admitted.

  “Oh, my goodness,” breathed Maggie, stunned, after the first soaring burst of happiness shot through her heart. This amazing turn of events surpassed her wildest imaginings. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

  Jubal was getting grumpy now. Hell, he’d asked her to marry him and she didn’t know what to say?

  Maggie saw his brow furrowing up, and swiftly added, “I mean, I—I have a farm and all, and a baby, and—oh, I just don’t know.” Oh, Lord, why did everything have to be so darned complicated. If she didn’t have the farm, if she didn’t have Annie, if sweet Kenny Bright weren’t buried up there in the New Mexico mountains, she’d marry Jubal Green in a second. Less than that.

  Jubal sighed. There was the damned farm again. He was sort of surprised she hadn’t already mentioned her dead husband’s grave. Then he decided, Aw, to hell with it.

  “Well, at least kiss me,” he commanded.

  And before Maggie could say another word, he had her in his arms and was kissing her, and Maggie had turned to molten jelly. She was amazed at how quickly her body responded to Jubal’s touch. It was if it anticipated the joys to come and ran on ahead, leaving her brain behind to flail blindly with the morality of the issue.

  Jubal grunted in carnal satisfaction. Her reaction triggered his, and he was hard as a rock in a second.

  “Oh, God, Maggie, I thought once I had you, it would be over, but now I just want you more.” He hadn’t meant to confess that, but it slipped out, along with his tongue.

  Maggie didn’t even hear him. Her ears were ringing with the sudden rush of heat, and his tongue was driving her wild. Her arms tightened around his shoulders and she pressed herself against his broad chest as if she wanted to climb inside his body. She knew she had it backwards. He was going to be in hers. She didn’t even bother to fight it. She loved him.

  Jubal broke the kiss with a deep groan. But he didn’t let go of Maggie. Instead, he scooped her off the stone bench and marched her back inside the house. He didn’t even notice if anyone was around to watch as he carried her down the hallway to his bedroom.

  He held Maggie with one arm as he pulled the covers away from his pillows. Then he laid her down in the middle of his bed and stood up. His hands were already tearing at the buttons on his shirt when he told her raggedly, “Take your clothes off, Maggie.”

  The day before, when Jubal had first carried her to his bed, it had taken Maggie a while to feel the insistent, scorching pressure building inside of her. But today, her body was primed. She was already about to explode with desire. Her fingers trembled as they unfastened the buttons of her shirtwaist.

  Jubal watched with greedy eyes when she shrugged the garment off of her shoulders and began to unbutton her skirt. When she kicked that off and she was left in her chemise and drawers, he said hoarsely, “Let me, Maggie.”

  His big, callused hands sent shivers of anticipation shimmering through Maggie’s body as he quickly tugged her chemise over her head. Then he untied the tapes to her drawers and pulled those off. That left her naked to his eyes and the cool night breezes, except for her black stockings that were tied with pretty pink garters.

  Jubal was naked as a jay himself. He stood beside the bed, eating Maggie’s body with his eyes, while her own eager gaze feasted upon the treat he made.

  “Lord, Maggie, you’re a picture.”

  “So are you, Jubal,” Maggie whispered. Her hand reached out to stroke those massive thighs. “When I first saw you naked, I was afraid you’d die. I never thought I’d get to see you healthy and perfect like this.” Her fingers touched the ugly, scarred indentation left by French Jack’s bullet, and stroked it lovingly.

  “Perfect?” Jubal’s chuckle was hoarse with desire and surprise. “I’ve got scars in places people don’t even talk about, Maggie.”

  “I think you’re perfect,” she murmured. She was now staring at his rigid manhood, stiff, hot and huge, and her fingers tentatively lifted from his thigh to stroke it. He gasped in pleasure.

  “Ah, shoot, Maggie.”

  Jubal couldn’t stand it any longer. He dove into the bed next to her and crushed her to his chest. Her perfect breasts smashed against his hardness, and he felt her nipples, succulent, ripe berries, press into him like bullets.

  He entered her silky wetness with one deep thrust that made him shudder when he was finally buried up to the hilt in her tight sheath.

  “Oh, Lord,” whispered Maggie. Her legs wrapped around him in response to his invasion, and she lifted her hips high, as if she wanted to receive him, body and soul, into herself.

  Jubal had his head buried in the hollow of her shoulder, trying to hold onto his seed which was clamoring for release. When he thought he could move without exploding, he began to kiss Maggie’s throat. He tongued the thrumming pulse at its base and almost lost control again at her gasp of pleasure. He didn’t understand it. He’d never had this reaction to a woman before. It was because this was Maggie. He knew it. She just wasn’t like anybody else.

  “You feel so good,” he mumbled into her tumbled hair.

  His hands left off where they were cupping her face, and trailed down to feel her wonderful breasts. And then he started to move in her.

  Maggie couldn’t help herself. She knew she was behaving like a total wanton, but she couldn’t help it. She’d never felt anything like the way Jubal made her feel. She arched herself against him, trying to take more and more of him. She realized she was whimpering, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care right now. Her nails raked his shoulders and her legs lifted even higher and wrapped around him so that her hips cradled him perfectly.

  Jubal knew he was going to burst soon. His hand left off teasing her hard nipples and moved to her precious secret core.

  When his finger began to stroke her there, her reaction was so electrifying, she nearly bucked them both off the bed. Her nails dug into his back, but Jubal didn’t mind. She was sobbing even before her shattering climax rocked her this time, and when she exploded, she clung to Jubal as if to life itself.

  Jubal was sure his end had come when he felt Maggie’s sheath tighten around him and she began to squeeze him until he couldn’t hold back any longer. With one wild, reckless plunge so deep he was sure he must have pierced her womb, his seed burst from him. He knew the cry that tore through the room had come from him, but he couldn’t have held it in if he’d tried.

  He lay in Maggie’s arms, breathless and weak, when his release was complete. He knew he must be heavy on her, but she was clutching his back so tightly, he couldn’t have moved if he’d had the strength, which he didn’t.

  His breath was coming in ragged gasps and he was only dimly aware that he was whispering into Maggie’s ear.

  “Oh, God, Maggie, it’s so good. You’re so good. You feel so damned good.”

  Maggie was crying. Jubal had expected that. He still wasn’t entirely sure what, if anything, to do about her tears, but when he was able to breathe again, he eased his body away from crushing hers and peered down at her with real tenderness. He had the feeling she was trying to stifle her sobs, but was having no success. Her lips were ripe and swollen with his kisses, her eyes were smoky with passion, and her expression, in spite of her tears, was one of sated bliss.

  He watched her sob for a few seconds then lowered his lips to hers once more. She kissed him greedily, and he smiled with satisfaction. He’d done this to her, and it made him feel good.

  Jubal smoothed the hair away from her damp cheeks. “You always cry afterwards, Maggie.”

  He didn’t want her to think he minded, although it did confuse him some. But he sort of wondered why their sexual encounters, which were so overwhelmingly wonderful for him, made her cry. He caressed her tears away with a hand.

  Maggie sniffl
ed, swallowed hard, and covered his big, warm hand with hers, holding it to her cheek. “I c-can’t help it,” she confessed. “I’ve just never felt anything like that before. It’s—it’s just so wonderful.”

  Jubal’s grin began to take on a slightly arrogant cast. “I think it’s wonderful too, Maggie.”

  “It was never like this with—with K-K-Kenny.” Maggie began to sob again, and Jubal rolled over onto his side and hugged her close. He hoped like hell she wasn’t feeling guilty, like she was somehow betraying the memory of that idiot she’d been married to.

  He stroked her back, long, comforting strokes that began at the nape of her neck and slid all the way down her damp spine to her pretty round buttocks. She felt so good to him. He tucked her head under his chin and let her cry.

  “It’s all right, Maggie.

  “I h-hope so, Jubal,” Maggie said. “I feel so funny about it. I never felt like this with Kenny. It was never anywhere near like this.”

  Jubal thought he knew the reason for that, but vanity made him ask, “Is it better with us, Maggie?”

  Maggie’s slender body shuddered with another huge sob. “Oh, yes,” she whispered. “It’s so much better, it’s almost like we’re not even doing the same thing at all.”

  Jubal was positively gloating by this time. He felt so good, he wanted to shout. “It’s all right, Maggie,” he whispered. He tried to keep the arrogant satisfaction out of his voice.

  Maggie sniffled again. “But I feel so guilty,” she confessed.

  “Guilty?” Jubal drew his head back to look at her face. Sure enough, Maggie looked as though she had stolen all the cookies out of the cookie jar and just been found out.

  She nodded. She had to swallow again before she could talk. “Yes,” she whimpered.

  “Why do you feel guilty, love? Do you think what we’re doing is betraying your marriage vows or something?” He guessed he could understand that, although it aggravated him a lot.

  “Well, kind of,” she confessed. “But it’s more like—like—Oh, Jubal, I tried so hard to be a good wife to Kenny. I really did. I tried and tried.” Her voice had taken on a miserably unhappy tone, and it made Jubal feel bad.

  “I’m sure you did, Maggie. It’s your nature. I know you were a good wife.”

  Maggie shook her head. “And, Jubal, I loved him. I know I loved him. I really, really did. He was so sweet, I couldn’t help but love him. But—but it’s not like what I feel now.” Maggie’s unhappy wail was muffled in Jubal’s muscled flesh, and her tears were making his golden-brown chest hairs uncurl.

  Jubal’s heart did a crazy loop-the-loop and he was sure it was going to rocket right out of his chest. He rocked Maggie back and forth in his strong arms. He murmured sweet hushes in her ear and stroked her tenderly.

  “It’s all right, Maggie,” he whispered, emotion making his words quaver. “You gave him everything. You know you did. You were the best wife that man could ever have had. I know it.”

  Maggie sniffled one more time. “I really tried, Jubal. I really tried.”

  By this time his eyes had shut tight and he didn’t look arrogant anymore. He looked almost like he wanted to cry himself, but he didn’t. He rocked Maggie for a good five minutes before he dared to ask her what he wanted to know.

  “Maggie?” he whispered, when he thought he could speak without his voice cracking.

  She wasn’t sobbing anymore. Her eyes were closed and she had snuggled her head against him. It felt so good there, so solid and secure, that she didn’t want him to ever let her go again.

  “What, Jubal?” she asked in a breathless whisper.

  “Do—”Jubal stopped, wondering if he should ask this. He was afraid of the answer. He finally took a deep breath and just blurted it out. “Do you love me?”

  Maggie swallowed hard. She didn’t want her love to be a burden to him. But he’d asked. She guessed she owed him an honest answer.

  “Oh, yes, Jubal,” she whispered. “I love you to death.”

  Jubal felt as though all the burdens of hell had been lifted from his shoulders. It took him a couple of minutes to recover his composure, and when he did, he said, “Well, then, everything’s all right, Maggie. Everything will be just fine. I swear it.”

  He squeezed her tight, and Maggie sighed, and they both drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maggie knew in her mind that they were in the middle of a gruesome feud. But in her heart, she had never been so happy. The next week was like a dream come true for her.

  The morning after her confession of love, Jubal had hugged her hard, kissed her soundly, and bounded out of bed feeling like a new man. Then he made it his business, before he even rode out to check his stock, to find out exactly what he could do to make her happy.

  Maggie stared at him in blank astonishment. Nobody had ever made it their business to make her happy before, not even sweet Kenny Bright. She blushed.

  “I—I don’t know, Jubal. I guess I think it would be nice to fix up the patio.”

  “Done!” Jubal cried. He threw on his clothes.

  “Now don’t you try to do anything yourself, Maggie,” he commanded. “All you have to do is think about it and tell Four Toes what you want done. He’ll see to the work.”

  Maggie was laughing by this time. “But, Jubal, I’ve got to have something to do. You don’t want me to just sit around and get fat, do you?”

  As Jubal grinned at her, he remembered something. He turned and stooped over to rummage around in his bureau drawer for a second. When he stood up, he was holding a very elegant enameled hairbrush. It had a black-lacquered back with pretty flowers painted on it.

  “Here, Maggie. You can brush your hair.”

  Maggie looked at the brush with a wide-eyed stare. “Oh, Jubal, how pretty,” she whispered. “It’s just like the one I saw at that big mercantile.” She had been staring at the hairbrush, but when she lifted her eyes to him, she found him nodding with supreme male satisfaction. “It is the same one, isn’t it?” she cried.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Oh, Jubal.” Maggie flung herself out of bed and into his arms. “Thank you so much.”

  Jubal couldn’t stand holding a naked Maggie Bright without his body undergoing changes that were difficult for him to control.

  “Don’t do that, Maggie, or I’ll never get to work.”

  Maggie let go of him, but she couldn’t stop herself from reaching up with the pretty brush and running it through Jubal’s thick, sun-streaked hair. The gesture was incredibly sensuous. Maggie’s breasts stroked across his chest. She had to stand on her tiptoes, and her belly rubbed against his rock-hard erection and made him groan. He finally reached up, grabbed her by the wrists, and drew her away from him.

  “God, Maggie, don’t do that,” he growled.

  Maggie smiled at him, a little embarrassed at her own wanton behavior. Still, she was unused to this reaction to her charms, and they pleased her.

  “Well, all right, Jubal. I’ll let you get to work. But I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do with myself all day long if you won’t let me work at anything.”

  “You can help Beula.”

  Then he kissed her so soundly he nearly didn’t make it out of the bedroom, especially when she began to press herself against him as though she wanted him, too. But he’d been away for a long time and had lots of catching up to do. So he went out to fetch Four Toes for a consultation.

  “I want you to talk to Maggie and find out what she wants to do with the patio today, Four Toes. Dan and I will see to the cattle.”

  Four Toes was delighted. “Great. I’d love to see that place cleaned up. It could look real nice.”

  Jubal smiled. “You sound just like Maggie.”

  Dan laughed. “I notice it’s Maggie now, Jubal,” he said slyly. “This is quite a departure, isn’t it, you takin’ a good hand away from cow work to play in the yard?”

  Jubal couldn’t decide whether to take offense at hi
s oldest friend’s words or not. He finally decided it wouldn’t do him any good. Dan knew him too well. He chuckled softly.

  “You got me, all right, Danny,” he said. Then he threw his hands out as though he were giving up the war. “You’re right. It’s all over. I can’t help it. She’s got me.”

  “It’s about damned time,” Dan said. Then he slapped Jubal on the shoulder. “I told you so, Jubal. I told you so when you were lyin’ on your damned back near dead. I told you so.”

  Jubal tried to frown. “I don’t remember.”

  “Well, I did, whether you remember or not. I knew it.” Dan turned to Four Toes. “Didn’t I say so, Four Toes?”

  Four Toes nodded. “He said so.”

  “Well, all right. You can quit gloating now, Danny. We’ve been gone a long time and have a lot of work to do. Four Toes, you and Maggie get me up a list and when I take her into El Paso to pick up her eyeglasses, we can get the materials you’ll need to finish the fountain and lay new tiles, or whatever you need to do.”

  “Tell you one thing would help right off,” said Four Toes.

  “What’s that?”

  “Cow shit.”

  “Fertilizer?” Dan asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, hell,” said Jubal sourly. “I’m willing to do a lot of things for Maggie, but I’ll be damned if I’ll carry a sack of cow shit around with me all day while I ride the range.”

  Four Toes laughed. “Damn, I’d like to see that. No. I think I can get the Todd kids to help with that. I can send ‘em out into the pasture with a couple of sacks and pay ‘em a penny to fill ‘em up. Maybe even little Annie can help.”

  The thought of little Annie Bright dragging a sack of cow patties around was so comical, that Jubal couldn’t help but laugh. He also couldn’t help but compare this light-hearted conversation with the last one they’d had here on his ranch, right after his brother Benny had died and they’d set out in pursuit of French Jack. He shook his head in wonder.