by Caroline Lee
He saw the hesitation on Tess’s face, the doubt in her eyes, and could have cheered. Instead, he hid his smile behind another sip of wine.
“Why are you so interested in my future?” It was a bold question, and both other woman laughed.
“Because, my dear, I have a fort full of handsome, courageous, honorable and unmarried officers!” Mrs. Gibbon’s laugh was full-bodied, and even her husband chuckled. “We’d love to have you stay here!”
“We like you.” Mrs. Newell’s comment made Tess flush again, but Cam wasn’t about to let her stay here at Fort Laramie.
“If you made it to Cheyenne, ma’am, things wouldn’t be much better.” He liked the way her gaze snapped back to his. Was she eager for him? He wanted to think so. “The city might be the hub of culture in these parts, but there’s still not so many beautiful woman that you wouldn’t have a dozen propositions before you got to the station.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” It was a whisper, and Cam thought it might have slipped out accidentally. It certainly wasn’t something someone asked in proper company. But he appreciated the candor, and returned the favor.
“You’re fast becoming the most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on.”
Her eyes went wide, and he heard gasps from the other two women, and a chuckle from the Colonel. “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a wife now, would you, Mr. MacLeod?”
“Yes sir, I am.” He didn’t look at the older man, but held her gaze. “I’ve been looking for a while. And even though I just met Mrs. Kitchens, I think we’d do fine together.”
“And her son?”
Tess’s brows drew in and she shook her head once, slightly, as if to clear it. But he didn’t look away, and didn’t let her either. “Jacob’s a fine boy, and I’d be proud to raise him as my own.” And he meant it. Ash and Nate had taught him that family wasn’t just about blood; it was about love and trust. He could offer that to Jacob, and hope that the boy came to think of him as a father. “Maybe someday he’ll call me ‘Daddy’.”
Were those tears gathering in her eyes? Tess blinked and looked away, and he wanted to gather her in his arms. He’d forgotten there was anyone else sharing this moment until Mrs. Gibbon spoke up. “I should have known that if you came to this dinner, we wouldn’t get to keep her, Mr. MacLeod.” Her sigh didn’t sound quite as resigned as she was trying to appear, and there was a twinkle in the older woman’s eye. “Tess, dear, Mr. MacLeod is a good man, with prospects as good as any of my husband’s officers. I should tell you that he’d make a fine husband to any woman interesting enough to keep his attention. You should seriously consider his suit.”
Surprised, Cam smiled his thanks to the Colonel’s wife. He’d only met her twice before, and hadn’t realized he’d made such an impression. Switching his gaze to Tess’s, he prayed that she wasn’t going to dismiss him outright.
The moment of intensity was broken by a chuckle from Colonel Gibbon. “Well, son, I guess you ought to make it official.”
Cam took a deep breath. “Marry me, Tessa?”
“I…” It was good that she wasn’t turning him down, and he wasn’t about to lose the opportunity.
“Walk with me, then. Let me convince you.”
She was going to say no, he could tell. She was going to let propriety and tradition, and the idea that he should court her first, sway her. But then Captain Newell—an unlikely ally—added his voice to the not-so-private conversation. “It seems like the least you could do, Mrs. Kitchens. Hear out his suit.”
And to Cam’s surprise, she nodded and stood. “If you’ll excuse us then?”
He thought he might have nodded to his host and hostess, but he couldn’t be sure. He pushed back his chair and followed her out the door. As he passed the Colonel’s place, he heard the older man murmur “Good luck, son.”
He hoped he wouldn’t need it.
CHAPTER FOUR
She couldn’t believe that she was even considering this. Tess stopped on the Newells’ front porch and rubbed sweaty palms against her thighs. When she realized she’d likely ruin the silk that way, she bunched her hands into fists instead. The nails digging into her palms helped to keep her centered; to remember what was important in life. She and Jacob would find some way to survive, in Cheyenne or San Francisco or one of the cities in between. She should have turned Mr. MacLeod down immediately. She shouldn’t have listened to Mrs. Gibbon’s ideas. But sitting there across from the sexiest man she’d ever seen, the reasoning seemed so valid. And when that man proposed marriage to her? Well, she was certain she’d felt her heart stop, and walking with him had seemed like a fine idea.
His booted steps were heavy across the porch, but she wasn’t surprised; the man was huge. Her heart beat in tempo, until she knew he was standing right behind her. But instead of looming over her—not that she’d ever felt loomed over during their interactions—he moved in front of her and stepped down two steps. Now they stood almost eye-to-eye, and she wasn’t sure that was such a good thing. Was she going to be able to think clearly with him so close? With those gorgeous green eyes right there?
“I don’t know a lot of women, Tessa, but those I do know want to get married. Why don’t you? Or is it just me you object being married to?”
Ha. If only he had any idea what had gone through her head at his proposition. Images of waking up beside this man every day, of working to make his house a home, of sleeping beside him…. She was sure she’d blushed brightly. But she didn’t know him, and didn’t need a husband.
“I’ve been married once already, Mr. MacL—”
“Cam.”
She nodded. “Cam. I’ve been married once, and while it wasn’t unpleasant, I see no need to repeat the experience. Jacob and I do well enough on our own. If not running a store, I’ll find some work to do. I’m strong and able, even if I don’t look like much.” His lips quirked into a grin, and those eyes swept over her once.
“You look fine tonight, Tessa. I’m sorry I didn’t say so earlier.”
Well that completely sidetracked her. “I… thank you.” Self-consciously, she smoothed the front of the dress. “Mrs. Newell loaned it to me—”
“I’m not talking about the dress, Tessa.”
“Oh.” She felt her brows draw in, what her mother always told her was an unattractive reaction to surprise. But it was hard not to be suspicious when a man as gorgeous as Cam MacLeod called her beautiful. She wasn’t beautiful; she was too dark, too foreign to be beautiful. She was too feisty and too determined to be beautiful. Too different to be beautiful. Her father’s people and her mother’s people each thought she was odd-looking, and the only man who’d ever been willing to take her had been her life-long friend Joshua. Hearing Cam call her ‘fine-looking’ was disconcerting enough to change the topic.
“Why do you call me Tessa?”
He shrugged, and Heavens, when those shoulders shrugged she could see ripples all the way along his arms. “My family’s Scots, and I had an aunt Teresa. Everyone called her Tessa. If it bothers you…?”
“No.” She was quick to reassure him, although she wasn’t sure why. “I was just wondering.”
The silence should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. It felt comfortable, right, to stand here in the darkness with this man.
“Tell me about your family.” Her demand earned her another smile.
“Gladly.” He turned towards the parade ground, and offered her his arm again. As before, she placed her hand lightly on his forearm, and could feel the heat of him through the cotton. It sent shivers through her, and she wondered about her reaction. He started them on a leisurely stroll through the patches of light formed by the lampposts.
“I have three older sisters. They’re all married and happily living back in Glengarry County, Ontario. That’s where all the Highlanders went when they were pushed off their land by the English in the last clearances. My father’s family was one of the last to go. He left the Isle of Skye when he was five, but he
still talks about how beautiful it was.” He could have led her through fire and she wouldn’t have noticed. Her attention was centered fully on the man next to her, and the very faint burr in his voice that she hadn’t noticed before. “After our mother died, I realized I didn’t want to stay in Glengarry, to do the same thing my sisters and cousins all did. I wanted freedom. I wanted to own my own land and make it a success. I came out here and bought as much cattle as I could afford. I’ve been building my ranch ever since. I named it the Open Skye, and after I grew it enough, I invited my father out here.” He chuckled. “I was more than a little surprised when he took me up on the offer, but he’s been living out here with me for a few years now.”
They’d made almost a full circuit of the ground, and Cam found a bench in front of an officer’s garden. He pulled her down beside him, and she followed obediently. Her knees felt like pudding around him anyway. Was it so wrong to want to sit with him, to feel his heat, for a moment?
She listened to him tell her about his ranch, and could hear the pride in his voice when he spoke about expanding. Apparently he thought that free-ranging cattle were a thing of the past, and had made an effort to buy up as much land as possible, so that no one could fence him off. There was something about a deal made the year before to gain ownership of his neighbor’s ranch, but not really. The man who married the ranch owner had lent him the money to buy, and so Cam had been selling off his cattle at a higher rate than normal to pay off the loan. He’d rather own the land free and clear, and then build his herd back up. That explained his visit to the fort and his need to sell more cattle.
Listening to the conviction in his voice was intoxicating. She could almost see the ranch, and could appreciate his passion. She had so many questions about his decisions and plans, but for now she was content to just sit quietly. She was learning so much about ranching, and about him. He was a good man; a hard worker with a zeal for life. She appreciated that he knew his talents and his limits, and had figured out how to apply them to get what he wanted out of life. And she even liked that he’d made a home for his father way out here in Wyoming.
Yes, the more Cam MacLeod talked, the more smitten she became. Which was silly, because she wasn’t some bubble-headed debutante. She was a widowed mother who’d worked hard her entire life, and was entirely too jaded to go all wobbly just because an unbelievably handsome man smiled at her.
But the problem was that he was smiling at her, and she was going all wobbly. And he’d asked her to marry him. And listening to the pride and happiness in his voice as he spoke about his home, she wasn’t so sure that it was a bad idea. Maybe Mrs. Gibbon and Mrs. Newell were right; maybe marrying would solve her problems. She was honest enough with herself to admit that she really liked the idea of having someone to share life’s burdens with. But she hadn’t lied earlier; she’d gotten dozens of proposals—marriage and other, less savory ones—since being widowed in such a ragged land as Montana. And she hadn’t considered any of them. What was it about today that made her agree to hear Cam’s suit? Was it her recent misadventure? Or the fact that he’d rescued her and deserved to be heard? Or because he stirred her blood the way no man had ever done?
“Once we moved over to the old Double-S, we had plenty of space to spread out. Too much, in fact. There’s just me and Da in the house, and it was built for a family.” Suddenly he looked down at his hands, and she wondered if he was nervous. “I know that’s what I’m missing in life; what I want. I want a wife who’ll stand beside me and a bunch of kids running around my land. I want to feel that… belonging.”
“Jacob’s not your son.” Earlier he’d said that he would raise Jacob as his own, but that was too unusual not to call him on. She’d never heard that from any of the men who’d propositioned her before.
He shifted towards her on the bench and took one of her hands. “I would never ask you to give up your memories of your first husband. And if you think it’s best that Jacob know I’m just his step-father, then that’s your decision. But I think it’s important that a kid have two parents he knows he can count on, and I can be that for him.” He was talking about acceptance, what he was looking for in a family.
She slowly nodded. “Joshua died before Jacob was born, so he has nothing to tie him to his father. I never considered re-marrying, so it wasn’t an issue. But I suppose that I’d rather Jacob know a father.”
His thumb started tracing circles across the back of her hand. It felt delicious. “Consider it now, Tessa. Consider marrying me.”
She swallowed past a lump in her throat. “Why? Why would a handsome man, a man with a home and a big spread and money, want to marry someone like me? You could have your pick of women. You don’t need a penniless half-breed wife who comes with a kid.”
It was too dark to read the surprise on his face, but she felt him squeeze her hand, and heard him clear his throat. “I’m not desirable, Tessa. Men like me—men who’ve had to work hard our whole lives to get where we are—are a dime a dozen out here. But you…” Her stomach lurched and her heart jumped into her throat when he ran the back of one finger down her cheek. “You’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever seen. I want you. I want to make a life with you. I want to be Jacob’s father.”
“You just met me!” she all but wailed, still unnerved by his touch.
Oh God, that grin, with the crooked teeth could make her melt. “Yeah, but a man’s got to act fast out here, or he’ll miss his opportunity. Marry me, Tessa.”
No. Absolutely not. But then again…
She’d be a fool to consider marrying a man she just met. But here she was considering it, and if that made her a fool, then so be it. Because she was doing more than considering it. She was seriously contemplating marrying a man she’d just met, because of the way he made her stomach flip and her nerves sing and warmth spread through her.
Her hesitation must have shown. “I’ll make you a deal.” She thought she nodded, and he continued. “Let me kiss you. After, if you say no, you don’t want to marry me, I won’t ask you again.”
It was a deliciously scary proposition. She could say no, and walk away, and never know what it was like to be kissed by him. She could accept the Colonel’s offer of an escort to Cheyenne and be on a train heading west in less than a week. She could go back home to San Francisco and hope that someone from the old neighborhood remembered her and could give her a job. She could spend the rest of her life sleeping alone, never having anyone else to rely on, to trust. Never having anyone to share in the joys and struggles of parenthood.
Or she could kiss him, now. Afterwards, she could still go to Cheyenne and get on with her life. But she’d know then, at least, what it was like to give free rein to the passion she’d felt creep through her veins every time Cam MacLeod touched her. She’d know what it was like to be really kissed.
So she nodded. She didn’t think she could speak, but luckily, he understood.
She felt one large hand touch the side of her neck, as if to guide her, and then his lips were on hers. It was a surprisingly gentle, delicate kiss from someone as big as he was. She would have expected to be overwhelmed, intimidated by someone so much larger, but he was soft. For a long moment they were still, and she thought he was letting her get used to the feel of him. It was very nice, but a little bit of a letdown after the shivers of anticipation she’d been experiencing in his presence.
Then his lips began to move against hers, and her pulse skyrocketed. Oh good Heavens, this…! This was something she couldn’t have imagined. It was nothing like being kissed by Joshua. It wasn’t gentle, either. It was deep and hot and ignited something in her belly that crept down to the place between her legs, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. His tongue stroked her lips, and she thought she might faint from the heady rush of pleasure it evoked. Unbidden, one hand rose to touch his cheek, and she felt his stubble under her fingers. She wondered if that explained the burn in her cheeks, or if that was all her body’s own doing. He groane
d against her mouth, and she dropped her fingers, intent on the feelings coursing through her.
Much too quickly, she thought, he pulled away. Tess was disconcerted enough that she almost went with him, to pull him back to her. That fact, more than anything, snapped her attention back to the here-and-now, the reason behind the experiment. She forced herself to lean away from him, but couldn’t help that she was panting, or stop herself from fingering her swollen lips.
Then she saw the way he was sitting, hunched like he was in pain. He ran both hands through his hair, pulling at the curls between his still-trembling fingers. He was breathing just as heavily as she was, and Tess gasped when she realized that he was as aroused by the kiss as she had been.
He turned at her gasp, and this time the faint glow from the nearest lamp caught the green in his eyes. “Well, Tessa? What do you say to my offer?”
There she sat, fingers pressed to throbbing lips, and thought about her future. One path led to familiarity; working long hours to keep Jacob fed, falling into bed exhausted each night, and only allowing herself to truly live in her dreams. The other path led to an exciting new adventure; marriage to an eminently desirable man, having someone to share her burdens again, and helping to make his ranch a success. Most importantly, Jacob would have an honorable man to show him how to grow up, and a stable home in which to do so.
Put like that, it really wasn’t that hard of a decision after all.
“Yes. I’ll marry you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
He couldn’t believe that had worked. But Cam was the kind of man who saw what he wanted, and went for it. After his conversation with her, and the realization that she was exactly what he was looking for in a wife, he would have done anything to convince her to marry him. That kiss had been everything he’d thought it would be, and more. He’d never been so affected by a kiss before; he had been so aroused it’d been painful! All he’d wanted to do was wrap his fingers through that neat bun, and trail kisses down Tess’s neck. It’d taken all of his self-control to remind himself that he was sitting on a bench with a woman he’d just met.