Like everyone else, she referred to him as the General, and had discovered Ralston Williams was a remarkable man. Generous and kind. A man she could easily love.
But not in the way a wife should love her husband, and that frightened her.
A knock sounded on her door and she turned from the window, where she’d watched wagons pulling in for the holiday celebration the General had planned. “Come in.”
The General’s tender smile made her heart hurt. “The house is filling up,” he said. “Are you ready?”
Holding in her stomach, she pressed a hand to the butterflies.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart,” he said, folding an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m just nervous, I guess,” she said.
“Of what?”
Seeing your son. She’d been caught between a father and his child once before and feared being there again. Biting her lip, she shrugged.
He chuckled and gave her shoulders a solid squeeze. “You’ll soon be Mrs. Williams, the matriarch of this entire valley.”
“Those are awfully big shoes,” she said, “and I have small feet.”
His laugh was heartier this time, and as they moved down the hallway, he said, “That was a nasty trick your stepsister played on you.”
“One of many over the years,” she said. A letter, along with a surprising sum of cash, had been delivered to the ranch. It had been from the railroad, explaining how Eleanor had paid each porter to pass a note onto the very last one, who was promised a fair sum if he’d steal Violet’s luggage, shoes and money so she’d arrive in Spring Valley a forlorn burden to her new husband. The man said he’d been tempted, but once he’d taken her boots and money, couldn’t go through with the ruse and placed them in her luggage at the last moment. The letter had also expressed thanks to Sheriff Williams for his investigation.
The General insisted Chayston had wanted to prove her innocence, but Violet wasn’t so sure about that.
Voices wafted up the stairs and she clutched the banister.
“It’s just a few people,” the General said, “to celebrate the festive season.”
No, it wasn’t. It was the entire countryside coming to meet his bride-to-be—and they’d probably all be back next week for the wedding.
“By the way, Violet, the house looks wonderful. You did an outstanding job decorating it. I’m quite proud to show it off, and you.”
The house was beautiful, and she had worked hard, strategically placing bows and containers of pinecones and stringing garland. She wanted to please the General, truly did, yet, swallowing against the dread threatening to overcome her, Violet had a great desire to run back to her room.
“Here we go,” he said, coaxing her onto the staircase. “One step at a time.”
A short time later, Violet admitted things weren’t as scary as she’d imagined. The General had a way of commanding people and though everyone held very curious glances, no one asked probing questions.
She found the ability to relax a bit, and the courage to smile, until the door opened once again. Her heart clawed its way into her throat, where it blocked her entire airway.
Still at her side, the General patted her back, which was enough to get her breathing again. But when he proudly announced, “There’s my son,” her lungs locked tight again.
That’s when it hit her. The true reason she was so distraught. She was in love with the son—wanted him as her husband, not his father. But Chayston’s cold glare slicing her in two said he liked her about as much as Eleanor did.
Having thought of little else except her the past week, Chayston couldn’t pull his eyes off Violet. She was more beautiful than he remembered, and the desire leaping to life forced him to admit he had to get it over with—the reason he’d come. As painful as it was, he turned to his father. “Could I see you alone?”
Without a hint of surprise, his father agreed, “Certainly, son.” He then bowed to Violet and whispered something.
Every muscle went stiff as Chayston watched her nod and offer him a feeble smile. His father then motioned for Anita, who gestured for Violet to join her near the stairs.
Chayston led the way to his father’s office, and closed the door firmly behind them. “Roy will be back by mid-January,” he said.
“Good,” his father answered, taking a seat behind his desk. “It’ll be good for things to get back to normal.”
Nothing would ever be normal again. He was giving up what he wanted most. “I’ve accepted a position as deputy sheriff in Cedar Grove.”
The General leaned back. “Oh?”
Chayston crossed the room to gaze out the window. “Yes, I’ve decided not to return to the Big Basin.”
“What about Violet?”
Chayston refrained from answering. Seeing her again had him questioning his decision. He’d fallen in love with his father’s bride. Deeper and harder than he’d ever imagined possible. In a matter of mere days. But there was no way for them to be together. Ever. Though he could fight his father, he wouldn’t. Violet deserved the family she wanted, and the General would see she got it and the happiness she sought.
“I promised her father she’d live at the ranch,” the General said. “If you’d read the letters, you’d know John felt the only way Eleanor would allow Violet to leave was for everyone to believe Violet would be marrying a much older man.”
Chayston’s heart flipped, and he frowned, not sure why.
“I told him I had to meet her before I’d completely agree.”
“Agree to marry her?” Chayston asked.
“No, before I’d agree to our children marrying.”
Chayston whirled around. “Your children?”
His father nodded. “You and Violet.”
Stunned, although it was what he wanted more than anything, Chayston couldn’t quite believe it could be this easy.
“I wouldn’t have considered it,” his father said, turning to watch him pace, “but ever since that Becca girl married Seth instead of you—”
“You knew about that?”
“Of course I knew. I’m your father.” He folded his arms. “No one else does though.”
Becca and Seth had become the least of Chayston’s worries. He’d never gotten around to courting Becca properly because he hadn’t loved her, not like he did Violet. His heart rate increased significantly, but a splattering of caution held him from rushing for the door. “What does Violet think of that?”
“She doesn’t know,” his father said. “But she’s been mooning at the window ever since you drove away.” With a shrug, the General added, “Of course, if you don’t want to marry her, I’ll find someone suitable, or maybe marry her myself.”
“Like hell you will,” Chayston said.
Laughter echoed in his wake as he tore out of the room. “She’ll be upstairs in her room, son. The one right next to yours.”
That’s where Chayston found her, jumping off the bed with a startled expression when he threw open the door. She said his name, but that was all the time he gave her before grasping her upper arms and pulling her into an embrace that included a deep, rather chaotic and frantic kiss.
She responded instantly, clinging to him, kissing him with as much desperation as he felt. Being separated from her the past week had been miserable, and though he wanted nothing more than to go on kissing, he stopped.
Gasping, she covered her mouth with one hand as she stumbled backward when he released his hold.
“Oh, no,” she muttered, turning beet red.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He reached back and closed the door with a solid thud before approaching her with slow steps. “Don’t be turning all shy and timid on me now, Violet Ritter.”
Her hands flew to her hips as her mouth opened and closed.
She seemed to collect her senses then because she stomped forward. “Shy and timid? Is that what you think I am? Well, I’m not,” she insisted. “Appalled is what I am. How dare you—”
“Will you marry me?” he asked, getting straight to the point. This time around, he wasn’t wasting time.
Her mouth opened and closed again before she asked, “What?”
“It’s a simple question,” he said, smiling. “Will you marry me? Yes or no?”
Light rose in her eyes like a sunrise coming over the mountain, and her lips twitched as if they didn’t know if they could smile or not.
It was the question he’d imagined never being able to ask her, and in the moment it took her smile to fully form, he felt utterly vulnerable, as if stripped down to nothing. Much as he’d felt the last week.
“Yes.” Tears trickled down her cheeks as she nodded. “Oh, Chayston, yes, yes.”
He lifted her off the floor by her waist, pulling her into his arms again, and kissed her until neither of them could breathe, and then he kissed her some more.
It was only when he knew for certain what would happen if he didn’t stop that Chayston forced himself to back off. Taking her hand, he led her to the doorway.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To announce our engagement.”
“Oh, goodness,” she muttered, “what is this town going to think of me?” Grabbing the doorway as she had the frame of the stage the first time they’d met, she brought them both to a complete stop. “What is your father going to think?”
“My father,” Chayston said, “despite being sadistic, is the smartest man I know.”
He kissed the point where her brows were knit together. “He invited you out here to marry me, not him.”
“He did?”
“Yes, he did.” Chayston kissed her again. “Someday, perhaps when we learn we’re expecting our first child, you and I will have the opportunity to return his favor.”
She tilted her head sideways. “By naming a child after him?”
Running both hands over her slender, perfect waist, he answered, “Maybe, but first we’ll play a dirty, downright nasty trick on him. I just can’t think what it will be right now.”
When she frowned again, he laughed. “You best get used to it, that’s what we do in this family.”
“Play tricks on each other?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “But mostly we love one another.” Growing serious, he whispered, “I love you, Violet.”
“I love you, too, Chayston. I truly do.”
Chapter Eight
Waiting to become Mrs. Chayston Williams was torturing Violet. Some nights, as she lay in bed, she pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t back in Ohio, dreaming all this. The wedding she’d once feared approaching was now a charmed event. Chayston visited every night, and the kisses they shared had her anticipating their wedding night with such eagerness she could barely stand the wait.
The ranch house was once again filled with guests she’d watched roll in, but this time, when a knock sounded on the door, she excitedly bid entrance.
“Ready?” the General asked.
Fluffing the long veil Anita had cascaded over her head a few moments before, Violet nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“You look beautiful,” he said, holding out an elbow.
“Thank you,” she said. “And thank you for, well, everything.”
“I couldn’t be more proud—”
The way he sniffed had her glancing up. Though tough on the outside, the General was all mush on the inside. A lot like his son. She squeezed his elbow tighter and when he nodded, they strolled along the hall and down the sweeping staircase to where her handsome groom awaited.
The ceremony was held at noon on Christmas Day, next to a perfectly decorated pine in the front parlor, and though her eyes were filled with mist, Violet reveled in the love shining in Chayston’s as they repeated their vows to one another. She’d always enjoyed Christmas, but now would cherish it completely, knowing it really was a time of miracles.
Later that day, after a meal was served, her new father-in-law caught everyone’s attention when he announced, “I’d now like to present my gift to the wedding couple.”
Violet turned to Chayston, who grinned adorably, but shrugged.
“As you all know,” the General said, “before Roy left town he deputized Chayston as acting sheriff and me as deputy sheriff. As of today, I’m moving to town to fulfill that role, giving my son and his new wife the next couple of weeks alone here at the ranch.” He turned to them and grinned. “Just know I’ll be back.”
The crowd laughed, and in the General’s commanding way, he soon had everyone making their departures, including his. As soon as the door closed for the final time, Chayston swung around and hoisted her into his arms.
She grasped his neck and returned his kiss, but when he started walking, she protested. “Put me down.”
“Why?” he asked and then loosened his hold slightly. “Afraid I’ll drop you?”
“No,” she said, laughing. “There’s no reason to carry me.”
“I carried you before,” he said, walking toward the stairway.
“Only because I didn’t have any boots.” She flayed her feet so he could see beneath her hem. “I have shoes on, see?”
“Oh, where is that porter when I need him?”
Having been caught up in her happiness, Violet had forgotten about her stolen boots. “Did you investigate that because you thought I was lying?”
“No. I wanted to prove your innocence.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Someday we’ll have to visit Ohio, just so I can personally thank Eleanor for the scheme that put you in my arms the very first time.”
The love she felt for him was so strong, there was no longer room for resentment in her heart, but, Violet had to admit she felt sorry for her stepsister. “Eleanor thinks the only way to have love is to hoard it. I hope someday she’s learns that if you give it freely, it comes back tenfold.”
Chayston looked at her, deeply, profoundly. “You,” he said reverently, “are so...perfect.”
“No, I’m not.”
He’d climbed the stairs and walked down the hall, and now stood outside his bedroom door. “Fine, you’re not. Now, turn the knob, you’re getting heavy.”
“And you’re a brute,” she teased in return, while opening the door. “No gentleman would say that to a woman.”
“I know.” He dropped her onto the bed playfully. She was still bouncing when he landed beside her. “I told you I’m not a gentleman.”
Violet wrapped her arms around his neck. “I know, but I love you anyway.”
“Good,” he said, nibbling on her chin. “Because a gentleman would leave the room, let you get undressed and ready for bed.” His hands ran down her arm and then over and up her stomach, coming to a stop on her left breast. “But I’m going to undress you myself.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
His voice was low and husky, his breath hot against the quivering skin of her neck. The line of kisses he trailed along her neck was infinitely tender, and his caresses, how he explored her torso, created an intense excitement. With each kiss, each gentle pass of his hands, her need increased, and when his lips finally glided over hers, Violet met them passionately.
There was no shyness, no fear where Chayston was concerned, and she embraced the freedom his love released inside her. Arched into his caresses, she let her hands roam where they may over him, and when he softly suggested they undress, she beat him off the bed. He laughed and, sitting on the edge of the mattress, turned her around to unfasten the long row of buttons running down her back.
“Can’t you hurry?” she asked, trying to tug the gown off her shoulders.
“Maybe if you’d hold still,” he replied.
The dress finally gave way and as she pulled it off her arms, letting it fall to the floor, he kissed the very bottom of her back. Her stomach muscles tightened and an intense heat flared deeper. His hands made their way around to her front and slid along the line where her stomach met her legs. Everything inside melted and she leaned back as he stood, resting against his solid frame.
His hand roamed upward, fondling her swollen breasts and teasing her hard, overly sensitive nipples.
“Is this a form of torture?” she asked after a long moan rumbled around in her throat.
“No, it’s a form of pleasure,” he answered, kissing the side of her neck.
“Then don’t stop,” she whispered. “Don’t ever stop.”
He didn’t, even after they were both completely bare and stretched out on the bed. She’d been as adventurous as him, discovering pure pleasure by touching him, exploring parts she’d only allowed herself to be curious about. She hadn’t yet touched him there, where she was most interested in, but when one of his hands went between her legs, she reached down to grasp him. It was as if they were each trespassing, but a welcome trespass, that had them grinning at one another.
So caught up in the wonders of it all, Violet didn’t question the changes in her body. Every stroke had her wanting more. Holding nothing back, she followed instincts that had a savage yet earthly promise spiraling up from her very spirit.
Her breathing was uneven, catching in her throat and chest. When Chayston shifted, rising above her, she grasped his neck, pulling his mouth to hers for a wild, uncontrollable kiss that had their tongues swirling with one another.
When she needed air, she dropped her head deep in the pillow and shuddered with delight as his lips found one of her breasts, kissing it much as he had her mouth.
He continued, moving to the other one, and Violet wondered how much more she could take. Her center was throbbing and wet and a massive yearning burned inside her. “Please, Chayston,” she begged. “I can’t take much more.”
“Sure you can, darling,” he said. “Lots more.”
Snowbound With the Sheriff Page 5