“Of course.”
He seemed to be waiting for more, expecting her to say something else. “Have things changed at all between you and Reed?”
She wished she could have assured him that nothing happened, because nothing had happened other than a kiss, but on the ride back she had never stopped thinking about what Reed had done for Daniel, of his attention and concern. Nor could she dismiss her own reaction to him.
Nothing had changed and yet everything had changed.
As she stood there trapped in awkward silence, she tried to convince herself that Preston was by far the best choice. She tried to convince herself to go pack her things and leave with Charm, to move into town and take that job at the dry goods store. Then she would no longer have to see Reed day after day, no longer have to wonder what it would be like to be his wife, not just on paper, but for real. Forever.
She was so open, so vulnerable to temptation right now.
But she couldn’t leave Daniel yet. Not when he needed her so. As did Reed, at least until he and Daniel were able to cope on their own.
“Everything is the same,” she said, trying to assure herself as well as him. “I went along because I was afraid Daniel wouldn’t come home with Reed.”
As if he were aware of the debate going on inside her, he said, “This isn’t the time or the place to press you. Just know that I still want you for my wife.”
He was so genuine, so understanding and patient that she hated not being able to give him a definite answer.
Much to Kate’s relief, Charm walked back into the room with a small bundle of her things. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” Charm said.
“Don’t worry.” Kate hugged her. “Take care of Jonah and remember what you promised. Keep your pretty chin up. Everything will be fine.”
As Charm walked out, Kate thanked Preston again for taking her to town. “I know it can’t be easy for you,” she added. “People might object to you helping someone like Charm, but—”
“My job is to serve everyone in Lone Star. Saints and sinners alike. I’m happy to carry her back.”
Saints and sinners. How much would he be willing to forgive in her own case? The fact that she wasn’t a virgin? Her past? Her own lustful thoughts?
Preston was kind and gentle, handsome and sincere, but Reed had gotten under her skin.
“Kate?” Preston squeezed her hand.
Nudged out of her silent debate, Kate started. “I’m sorry.” She looked into his eyes and saw such unbridled hope that it made her want to cry. “I’m not much of a rider. I’m afraid I’m on edge and worn to a frazzle.”
He had been holding her hand throughout their conversation, but she had forgotten that entirely. She looked down at her hand in his, ashamed of her ragged, dirty nails.
She needed a bath in the worst way. She longed to be alone, to wash her hair, slip between clean sheets, and sleep on something besides the hard ground, but the idea of heating water and carrying it upstairs was beyond conception.
“I hope I see you again soon,” he was saying. “Maybe you could have Scrappy bring you into town later this week. When things settle down.”
She did not know how soon she could see him again, so she made no promises. He lingered, as if loath to leave. She felt the need to assure herself as well as him that she would be all right alone with Reed, so she put on a smile.
“Everything will be fine, Preston. We’ll talk again soon. Please send my regards to Aunt Martha and take care of Charm. If anything happens to Jonah . . .” She could not bear to voice her fear.
“I’ll get word to you as soon as I can. Tell Reed good-bye.”
“I will.”
He put his hand beneath her chin, tipped her face toward his. “May I kiss you?”
A test, she thought. Nothing more. She nodded.
His lips touched hers in a feather-light kiss. She fancied tasting respect, admiration, and boundless honor. Unfortunately, none of those sparked her passion the way Reed’s kiss had done.
“Good-bye, Kate.” He put on his hat and turned to go.
“Take care.”
Watching him clear the veranda, she wished that she could be everything he wanted, wished that she welcomed his ardor, as would any woman in her right mind.
But as she watched him help Charm into the carriage, all she could think about was hurrying upstairs.
To Daniel. To Reed.
She heard Reed moving around in his own room, heard water splash in the washbowl, so she walked down the hall to Daniel’s door.
The boy was in bed, lying on his side, curled in on himself. His huge blue eyes were still open. She lowered herself to the mattress beside him, listened to the soft sound of his breathing, offered him nothing but silent companionship.
She reached up to stroke his hair, and he listlessly batted her hand away. It was the first real response he had made in two days.
Sensing movement behind her, she looked over her shoulder. Reed was framed in the doorway, watching them with worry etched around his eyes.
“My heart aches for him,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to do, what to say. Before he had hope. He had someone to return to. Now, he has nothing.”
Reed walked over and stood with his thumbs hooked into his waistband, contemplating Daniel.
“He has us,” he said.
Us.
A single father and a housekeeper.
He needs a real family. A permanent family.
The last thing this little boy needed was another temporary mother in his life.
As she sat there beside him, Kate realized that for Daniel’s sake, she had to make a decision soon. She could not let him come to care for her, to think of her as a mother now that his Comanche mother was gone.
She stood up. “Would you like to tell him good night?”
Visibly uncomfortable, Reed shifted as he gazed down at the boy. Then he sat down where Kate had been perched beside Daniel’s shoulder. Slowly, he reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a choker beaded with multicolored glass of every hue. A dollar-size white shell, bright as a polished moon, dangled from it. Kate listened as Reed spoke softly to Daniel.
“I can’t bring your mother back, but I saved this for you. You’ll always have it to remember her by.” Reed pressed the necklace into Daniel’s hand. Slowly, his little fingers coiled around the choker and held it tight.
Kate could not bear to watch anymore, so she left them alone and walked out into the hall. Leaning against the wall, she let the tears come. Daniel would fall asleep tonight with his mother’s choker clutched in his little hand, just as she had once clung to her mother’s ragged handkerchief. The tattered piece of thin cotton was all she had left of Meg Whittington, a piece of her mother that she had never surrendered, even to this day.
Reed followed her and closed the door behind him, but tonight he did not lock Daniel in. “Are you all right?” he said softly.
She nodded, her throat working as she tried to swallow, searching for the right words. She, who knew the value of such a remembrance, had not thought to bring something back for Daniel, and yet Reed, a man she was convinced had a heart of stone, had managed to make the small gesture that would one day mean everything to his son.
She had seen a caring, loving, thoughtful side to him that threatened to make her even more vulnerable to him. As she watched him through her tears, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and started walking her down the hall.
“Why don’t you go in and rest a few minutes? I’ll get a bath ready for you.”
Right now, nothing sounded more tempting than a bath, except remaining in the comfort and warmth of his embrace.
She sighed in resignation. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Just promise to save me some room.” Then he startled her by letting go a short laugh. “Don’t look so shocked, Kate. I’m just teasing.”
Smiling, she went into her room and sat down on the edge of the bed, afraid that if she closed her
eyes even for a second, she would not stir until noon the next day.
42
Reed found her lightly dozing on top of her bed, still dressed in the ridiculous, oversize pants Charm had given her. She had unbuttoned her shoes, but hadn’t taken them off.
He gently nudged her shoulder. She stirred.
“Sit up, Kate. You’ll sleep better with the road dust off.” He slipped his arm around her and helped her sit up. Then he knelt down, pulled off her shoes, and stripped away her stockings.
“No.” Drowsy, she attempted to push him away. “I’m too sleepy.”
“Let me, Kate.” It was the least he could do.
Now that Daniel was safe, glorious relief had settled inside him, and everything Kate had done came into focus. She had dedicated herself to Daniel’s care, enough to risk life and limb to go into Comanche territory. Any other woman would have walked out of their lives weeks ago.
But not Kate. Not his stubborn spinster.
Reed smiled down at the top of her head recalling how she had helped them all in one way or another, he, Charm, Daniel.
And she had asked nothing in return.
He picked her up and carried her down the hall, where he lowered her to a stool in the middle of the floor. The water was still steaming, fogging the tiny room. From a table in the corner, a pair of candelabra cast the room in flickering shadows.
“Reed?” She was awake, barely, sleepily looking around.
He reached for the buttons on her purloined shirt. She made a halfhearted attempt to brush his hands aside. “Let me do this for you, Kate. Let me, please.”
Somewhere between the second and third button, she stopped resisting. Somewhere between the third and fourth, he became fully aroused.
He leaned forward, pressed his lips to the tender white skin of her throat, and slowly opened the front of her shirt—his shirt—revealing a deep violet silk chemise. An insert of lace revealed bare breasts beneath it.
So daring. So unexpected. A spinster wearing a tantalizing, revealing, violet undergarment. Her breasts were full, her hard nipples enticing. Unable to resist, he slipped his palms beneath her breasts, rubbed his thumbs over the lace across her nipples. He expected her to pull away. Instead, Kate sighed and leaned into him. He closed his eyes.
She sat motionless while he cupped her breasts, stroking her. Collecting himself, he pulled out each and every pin until her long hair fell around her shoulders and down to her waist like dark, rich sable. It wasn’t until he tried to slip his hand into her waistband to unfasten the ties that she stirred and pushed him away.
He yielded, letting her cling to her modesty. “I’ll turn around while you undress and get into the tub.”
“But . . .” She kept her eyes closed and her hands crossed over her breasts, unwilling to look at him even though she was still dressed.
“I’ll stay and wash your hair for you. Scrub your back.”
“Oh, my, no.”
He leaned into her and whispered, “Oh, my, yes,” against her lips. Then he got to his feet, crossed his arms over his chest and turned around.
Kate’s limbs went liquid as she sat on the low stool, staring at Reed’s back.
All this hot steam has gone to my head.
She felt downright dizzy and weak as a kitten. Her heart was pounding like the bass drum of the Lone Star Cowboy Band.
He had touched her breasts. Kissed her not once, but twice.
She hadn’t protested, not any more than a whimper. But why would she? She was her mother’s daughter.
Wasn’t this what she had wanted ever since the first time? What she had longed for?
Her head told her to send him away. Her heart begged her not to. To deny him would mean denying herself.
Torn by the same conflicting emotions she felt the day she first read his father’s advertisement—as if she were standing on a crossroads of a whole new life—she quickly reminded herself that she had turned down the wrong road once already. She glanced up at Reed; then pulled off the shirt and let it fall to the floor.
“Do you ever think about that night, Kate?”
His voice startled her so much that she nearly fell off the stool. “What night?”
“You know what night. The night I was feverish. The night you gave yourself to me.”
She skimmed Charm’s lucky chemise over her head and threw it atop the shirt. The windowless room was still warm, but she shivered anyway as she stood and quickly stripped off her pants before she lost her nerve. Careful not to slip on the damp floor, she quickly stepped into the tub and sank below the waterline. Thankful for the weak candlelight, she made a futile attempt to cover herself with her arms and hands.
Frustrated, she let go a long sigh. “I could lie to you, Reed. I could say that I have forgotten all about it, for believe me, I have tried to forget. But I’ve thought about that night every single day since it happened.” Her voice faded to a whisper. “Every single one.”
She sensed him there behind her before he asked her to lean forward, and then he wet her hair, expertly lathered, shampooed, and rinsed it. Then he dipped a piece of soap and a washrag into the water.
“I wish things could have been different,” he said. “I’ll be honest with you. What I remember of that night seems like a dream. It all comes back to me in fits and starts.”
He slipped his hand behind her, lathered her shoulders, massaging them. He moved the soapy rag lower, to her waist, then ran it up and down her spine to its base.
She bit her lips, stifled a moan, trying to deny what his touch made her feel.
“I envy you,” he went on. “I wish I could remember all of it.”
His hands trailed through the slick soap on her back, slipped around to her breasts. He palmed them from behind, rubbed her nipples with his thumbs until she went as hot and liquid as the water around her. She closed her eyes, let her head drop against the edge of the tub.
Reed came around to the side of the tub, leaned over, and kissed her mouth. She kissed him back. Slowly, curiously, she traced his lips with her tongue, tasted and savored both Reed and the tenderness of the stolen moment.
When the kiss ended, he ran his tongue down her wet neck, brought it back to her ear, and made her shiver to her toes.
“I wish I could remember everything. I need to remember you, Kate,” he said, his warm breath brushing her ear before he sucked on her earlobe. “What I recall is that it was never like that for me before. Never. Not knowing for certain has been driving me crazy. Don’t you ever wonder, Kate? Don’t you need to know if it was exactly the way you remember?”
He took her chin in his hand, made her look into his eyes. She felt herself falling into them. Why lie when she knew he could see the truth plain as day in her eyes?
The very last shred of her weak and worthless resistance fell away. “Yes. I need to know,” she whispered.
He kissed her like a drowning man in need of air. The washcloth was lost somewhere in the tub, the soap forgotten, melting on the bottom.
This time he used his hands with no pretense of trying to bathe her. She let them wander over her seeking each and every hidden pleasure point, let him introduce her to places and feelings she never knew existed on her or in her.
She wanted more, begged for more than the gentle touch of his hand, and he obliged, stroking until she cried out with the shattering release. The sound of her voice echoed against the walls of the tiny room. Boneless and replete, Kate lazed against the back of the tub.
Reed moved away, sat on the stool, and pulled off his boots and socks. His hands were awkward. He fumbled with his shirt buttons, ended up tearing the last two out of the holes, wadding up his shirt, and tossing it aside. Once his pants and drawers were added to the heap, he grabbed a towel and spread it on the floor beside the tub.
Within a handful of heartbeats he was back at Kate’s side. She stirred, gazed up at him, her thoughts unreadable.
“What I remember most from that night is that you ple
asured me, Kate.”
She pressed her fingertips to his lips. He sucked them into his mouth, lightly bit them, teased them with his tongue.
“I know what I did.” She sighed and turned her face away.
“Don’t be ashamed, Kate. Never be ashamed.” He slipped his arms beneath her back and as he stood, drew her up. She came out of the tub slippery and wet, pressed fully against his length. There was no hiding his arousal. There was no hiding anything between them now.
He lifted her out of the tub, slid her down his body, skin against skin, took her with him until they were kneeling on the towel. He kissed her while they were pressed together from knees to lips. She clung to him as if she would never let go.
Easing her down to the towel, he released her long enough to spread her damp hair out around her head and then ran his hands over the thick rippling waves.
With hands and fingers he memorized every inch of her face, neck, shoulders, arms, as she watched. His hands mapped every curve and line, her breasts, her belly.
He touched her between her thighs, wanting only to give her pleasure. Her eyes closed, her lips parted.
“I need you, Kate,” he whispered. “I need you.”
He rose over her, parted her legs, found her warm and wet and willing. Kate wrapped her arms around him in silent invitation, an assurance that she understood what he wanted, that she wanted him, too.
He eased into her, felt her body open to accommodate him. He began to move slowly, reminding himself this was only her second time. But Kate began to thrust back, to lift her hips, inviting him to take all she had to give.
She was tight and hot as fire. She was innocent. She was wanton. Better than any memory.
She was Kate. Knowing that made having her infinitely more erotic.
His wants and needs were so deep, her sultry voice with its encouraging sighs and moans so unbridled and fervent, that it was over quickly, but he had the satisfaction of knowing he had brought her to fulfillment again before he surrendered.
They lay side by side on the damp, wadded towel. Droplets of water spattered across the varnished wood floor and shone like tiny stars in the candlelight.
Reed felt her shiver, traced her thigh. Goose bumps blossomed over her skin. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
Summer Moon Page 29