Patrick's Proposal (The Langley Legacy Book 2)

by Hildie McQueen

  Sitting in front of the fire in his mother’s night shift, her beauty shined through. With a washed face and her shining, long hair pulled up, the graceful length of her neck was obvious. He had also taken note of the bright color of her golden brown eyes and pink, pouty lips.

  He’d had a clear view of the outline of her body when she moved. Full, plump breasts, a small waist and round hips. Her legs where long and well formed. Now, as she huffed while cleaning up in the kitchen, he felt as if an apology should be given.

  Not that he’d purposely looked, at first. However, he’d allowed more time to pass while he watched, eager to see more.

  He stood and went to stand beside her. With a drying cloth, he dried the dish she had just finished washing. “I apologize for not telling you sooner.”

  “You are a man, so I know you cannot control your urges,” she replied curtly. “I will do my best to keep from exposing myself until I leave.”

  By the tremble of her bottom lip, she was hurt. Of course. Without anywhere to go, she was probably upset and scared.

  “It’s nothing you did. There’s a robe in the room you are welcome to wear. Now, let’s get this finished up. I know you are probably exhausted.”

  They finished the dishes and he showed her to his bedroom. He’d yet to finish moving his personal effects from the room. Since it was smaller and had enough bedding to keep her warm, it was preferable to the room his parents had just vacated.

  “Goodnight,” she said as she walked into the room and closed the door, leaving him standing in the hallway.

  Patrick returned to the front of the cabin where he added another log to the fireplace. After picking up the blanket from a basket near it, he lay on the sofa and watched the flames. Tomorrow, he’d figure out what to do about Emma. She needed clothes and shoes that fit. Although it wasn’t his responsibility, he felt a need to protect the poor woman.

  He woke to the smell of bacon frying and sat up, rubbing his eyes to a house full of smoke. Emma was holding the pan away from the stove and waving a kitchen towel around. “Oh goodness,” she mumbled, obviously not noticing he was awake.

  She wore her dress now and her hair was braided down her back. She was barefoot except for the bandages on her left foot as she placed the smoking pan back onto the stove.

  It was best to let her continue without making her feel badly about the mess she was creating. So Patrick went back to pretend sleeping while keeping a keen ear in case things got out of control.

  “I made breakfast.” He opened his eyes to find Emma studying him with a somber expression. “It’s a bit burned.”

  He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Her wide gaze moved to his exposed upper torso before she turned away and returned to the kitchen.

  Yanking on his shirt, Patrick went to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. The food on the plates consisting of charred bacon and blackened scrambled eggs looked less appetizing than the smoky interior of the house. He pushed open the kitchen window, pretending it was to look out toward the goats’ pen. “The rascals are still penned,” he said out loud.

  She looked up from the table as he lowered to the chair opposite her. “Do they get out often?”

  “They are masters at it. One of them, the brown and white one, can reach the handle and has figured out how to open it. Although I’ve considered just letting them run loose, I don’t want a mountain lion to get them.”

  Emma nodded, watching as he brought a fork to his mouth. “We don’t do much more than eat beans. When my mother cooks, she prefers I stay away. She says I am a terrible cook, so she won’t let me near the kitchen. I’m not sure how I was supposed to learn since she always told me to leave her be.”

  “It’s fine,” Patrick lied as he forced the burned food down his throat. “I’m sure you’ll learn with practice.”

  Leaving her to clean up, he left and headed to his parents’ house. He needed a good breakfast for the long day ahead of working the ranch. The herd of cattle needed to be moved to another pasture and the stables were to be cleaned out. With all the chores, it would keep him and the ranch hands busy for the rest of the day.

  “Is something on your mind, Son?” His mother studied him as he ate. “You got up here pretty late. Your father and the ranch hands are already gone.”

  Patrick took a healthy bite of the buttered, fluffy biscuit. “No one cooks as good as you, Ma.”

  “You say that because you rarely eat anyone else’s cooking,” his mother chided. “Answer my question.”

  A sigh escaped. “I suppose, most days I wake up early because I normally heard you and Pa moving about. Now, I have to come up with a new way to wake up.” He smiled at his mother. “I could come sleep here.”

  “No you will not Patrick Langley. It’s time for you to grow up. Find a wife and start your own family, live in your own home.” Although his mother spoke sternly, her eyes twinkled with delight at knowing he wanted to be there. “You can come here for breakfast and supper but, soon, you have to learn to do for yourself.”

  He took a sip of coffee. “And where, exactly, am I supposed to find a wife? The only women in town are either someone’s mama or came here with their husbands. The Millers’ daughters are all spoken for.”

  “There is the welcome dinner for the new families next week. Hopefully, one will get your attention. Besides, I’m sure, as handsome as you are, you won’t have to try hard.”

  Patrick wasn’t as sure about it. His mother had already pointed out that the men in town had already made up all types of excuses to visit the new families.

  There was scratching at the door and his mother opened it to find three goats and a dog. Patrick assumed it was the dog that scratched as he trotted in and sat down in the kitchen with an expectant look. The goats remained on the porch, no doubt waiting for a carrot or two.

  “I’ll get them back in the pen, Mama.” Patrick stood and grabbed carrots from next to the sink. “I’ll see you at supper time.” He kissed her on the cheek and left.

  It was dark when he returned to the cabin. Emma shook her head when he offered the food in a basket he’d brought back from his parents’ place. His mother had insisted he have some and he readily accepted so that Emma could eat.

  “I boiled beans and ate that,” Emma said. “Added the leftover bacon. It was good.”

  Beside the stove was a lidded pot. Probably the leftover beans.

  “There’s biscuits in here if you wish to have them for breakfast. Don’t worry about cooking anything for me in the morning. I have to leave at sunrise and will eat at my parents’ house.”

  Emma nodded, her eyes downcast. She went to the chair he’d been sitting in the night before. “I mended your shirt.” She lifted the item. “I am not that good at sewing, but I think it’s better than having a torn sleeve.”

  “Thank you.” Patrick sat on the sofa. “I’ll wear it tomorrow.”

  Chapter 4

  The seventh day since arriving came to an end and Emma hummed as she walked through the house. She’d found that, although she was lonely, she enjoyed living in the cabin. The days were long, but she occupied herself by cleaning and mending. On occasion, she’d even attempted to knit after finding a basket with needles and yarn. It was hopeless, as she had no idea how to do it. But every day for the last week she had attempted it. Trying something helped pass the time.

  Patrick normally didn’t arrive back until the sun was setting. Most days, he brought food, but not always. It suited her fine. He was not responsible for her. And since there were eggs and plenty of beans, she was more than fine. It certainly was more than she expected from a virtual stranger.

  She went to pour coffee and peered out the window. Usually, she did her best to avoid looking out for fear someone would see her. When she emptied the water basins and had to go to the water pump, she did so quickly and rushed back indoors.

  Outside, a shirtless Patrick carried a bucket to the side of the barn. Emma tracked him as he went to a rain barrel. Her ey
es widened when he removed his britches and tossed them aside. The man stood naked as the day he was born. She couldn’t stop watching as he dipped the bucket in and poured it over his head.

  Water cascaded down his muscular chest past his stomach and down his legs. He repeated the action and then grabbed a bar of soap and lathered up. Covered in suds, he shivered and hurriedly dipped the bucket in the water again and rinsed off the soap. He repeated the action.

  Emma knew she should stop looking, but when he turned to grab a drying cloth, his front was fully exposed. She’d never seen a man’s private parts before.

  Patrick rubbed the cloth over his body briskly before grabbing for clothes that were neatly folded on a fence next to where he stood. She kept watching as he pulled on his pants and then his shirt. Finally, she turned away when he picked up the bucket and walked into the barn.

  Already, it had been hard to sleep in his bedroom. The interior brought her to think of him as she fell asleep each night. Her mind insisted on musing about living there with him permanently. Once, she’d even dared to consider if he’d ask her to marry him.

  However, it was obvious by how he avoided her and was rarely at the cabin that the man had no interest in the likes of her. Not that she blamed him in the least.

  When he entered, she pretended not to notice until he spoke.

  “Looks like it may rain. Clouds are gathering, so I put all the horses in the barn. The goats are in their pen. They have plenty of shelter there.”

  “I’m going to town in the morning if it’s not raining too bad. Do you want me to pick up some fabric? You can make a dress or a shawl.”

  She shook her head. “No, I can’t afford it and you’ve already done too much for me.” After a moment, she looked to the kitchen. “You are running low on coffee and there are only a few beans left.”

  “I’ll see about that then.” Unlike most nights when he went to his bedroom directly upon returning home, Patrick remained in the front room. He added a log to the hearth and sat in a chair. “You’re a good housekeeper, Emma Davis.”

  “Thank you,” Emma replied, unable to keep from smiling. “I am trying to earn my keep here.”

  Patrick met her gaze. “Don’t feel obligated to.” He stood and came to sit next to her. The proximity, combined with how she’d seen him earlier, made it hard to swallow. “How is your foot?”

  “Better,” she croaked out. “I can probably go to town with you tomorrow and be on my way.”

  His eyes seemed to darken as they lingered on her face. “You’re not leaving until you tell me your plan. Do you have family elsewhere?”

  Emma shook her head, unable to keep from looking at his lips. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  How they ended up kissing she wasn’t sure. But when his lips pressed to hers, Emma was glad. She touched his shoulders, unsure of what to do just as he moved back.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Patrick stood. “Think more about your plans, Emma.” He looked down at her as she tried to pretend not to be hurt at his abrupt breaking of the kiss.

  “I will,” she whispered, unsure of what else to say.

  When he went to the bedroom, the sound of the door closing made her finally let out a breath. What exactly had just happened? She’d been dreaming of a kiss and now that he’d kissed her, a strange ache took over. He’d been as astonished as her and probably regretted it.

  Being there was a bad idea. It was too tempting for a man.

  What would become of her? No matter how much she pondered upon it, nothing came to mind. She wasn’t well-read enough to teach. And as far as caring for children, she’d never been around any to know the first thing about what to do. She could barely cook and her skills at sewing had not improved enough to seek work at a seamstress shop.

  There was always cleaning. Maybe she could be a chambermaid in a large household in exchange for a small amount of pay, room and board. Emma closed her eyes only to jump when thunder boomed outside.

  Patrick paced in his room and then undressed and climbed into bed. The fire in the hearth had yet to get large enough to give much warmth and he was still chilled from bathing.

  Rain pelted the window and he went over in his mind if the livestock was safe. The horses and goats were housed. He’d also brought cows with calves into the corral where they had some shelter.

  He climbed in bed and pulled the cover up to cover his chest.

  When thunder pounded, it was so loud he swore the wall shook. His door flew open and Emma rushed in. She stopped at the side of the bed. “It-it’s pretty bad out there.” Her wide eyes flew to the window as it went bright with lightning.

  “It is.” Patrick moved sideways. “You can sleep here if you wish. I won’t bother you.”

  With a loud sigh of relief, she climbed into the bed and curled into a ball. “Thank you.”

  The storm raging outside did not compare to the one within Patrick as Emma fell asleep and stretched under the blankets. He slid as far away from her as possible, but when she turned and curled against him, he couldn’t move. Neither could he sleep.

  He shifted his hips, which was the wrong thing to do as his arousal rubbed against the bedding and he inhaled sharply. It wouldn’t do for her to wake up at him taking care of the problem at hand.

  Emma’s breath fanned over his shoulder and he looked up to the ceiling, attempting to think of cows and goats to keep from holding her. Instead, his arm was growing numb from holding it across his chest in an awkward position.

  What had possessed him to invite her into his bed?

  “Patrick?” Something, probably his groan, woke her.

  “Yes?”

  “The kiss.”

  It was the wrong conversation to have at a time like this. Thankfully, she moved away and he lowered his arm. Unfortunately, now her breast touched his arm.

  Her hand landed on his shoulder. “I want to be kissed again...by you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking. It won’t stop at a kiss, Emma, not right now.”

  When she pressed her body against his, Patrick was unable to move away. Instead, he took her face and held it with both hand, crushing her lips with his.

  It was a kiss like no other, filled with exploration, tasting and teasing. He prodded at her mouth with his tongue and she parted her lips allowing him more access. Patrick managed to keep from pulling her against him while taking her mouth, enjoying the sounds Emma made.

  She clung to him, giving in to the moment with abandon. Patrick was surprised to find that, although she was obviously inexperienced, Emma was so passionate.

  When he encircled her in his arms, she moaned and pushed into him. “I feel something like I’ve never felt before.” Her whispered words ended when he pushed his arousal into her midsection.

  “It’s want Emma, need. It’s passion that you feel.” Once again, he took her mouth and slid his palms down her sides until reaching the bottom of her night shift. When he touched her silky skin, she gasped.

  “Tell me to stop Emma.” Patrick was lost in her, his mouth moving down from Emma’s throat to her shoulders. He kissed every inch of bared skin and, still, she continued clinging to him, urging that he continue.

  Thunder boomed and, once again, rain began to fall hard outside as he fought a battle he was doomed to lose. If he took Emma’s body, everything was sure to change.

  Logic was lost when she pressed against him. Like him, she needed more.

  Patrick rolled her onto her back and covered her body with his. Nudging her legs apart, he settled atop Emma and continued to kiss her, to allow her to know every part of him as well.

  Timidly at first, then bravely, her hands exploded his back. She caressed his skin, moving down to his waist and stopping atop his backside.

  At this point, her nightgown was hitched to her waist. Needing to touch every inch of the woman, Patrick helped remove it and, soon, both were totally bare, exploring one another with both their hands and mouths.

/>   The way he kissed and explored her body was like nothing she’d ever imagined. Emma became lost to his caressing. She wanted more and, yet, at the same time, she hoped it would stop before they both regretted the consequences.

  Just a bit longer and she would put a stop to it. At least that was what she kept trying to convince her fogged mind to do. When his mouth took her breasts one at a time, she raked her fingers through his hair. The room began to spiral and she let out a long moan. Surely, this was what heaven was like.

  “No.” Emma finally uttered the word. It came out as a groan more than anything. Immediately, Patrick stopped and rolled off of her. His chest heaved with hard breaths as she, too, attempted to catch her breath.

  He’d hate her now, of course. Too ashamed to look at him, she sat up and grabbed for the nightgown, not speaking. Any minute now, the berating would begin. Emma walked to the door, not daring to look back toward the bed.

  “Emma.” Patrick took her arm and turned her to face him. “Come here.” He hugged her close and she squeezed her eyes shut.

  When he tipped her face up and placed a soft kiss on her lips, it was shocking as much as wonderful. “I shouldn’t have let things get that far. Thank you for having more common sense than I do.” His green eyes searched her face.

  “I didn’t want to stop...” She hid her face in his chest.

  “I didn’t either,” he replied with a chuckle. “Are you all right?”

  After a long sigh, she nodded. “I think the storm passed.”

  “Yes, it did,” he chuckled.

  The next day, as usual, he was gone when she awoke. After going to the kitchen to make coffee, she went to the bedrooms to gather linens to wash. She’d take a chance and do the wash in the back of the house, which was not clearly visible from the road. If she hurried with it, it could be done and she could stay inside until they dried.