Horace chuckled again as Wyatt went out of the pilothouse. A quick stop in his quarters would garner him a cleaner shirt to wear beneath the coat. Then he would find out what had brought K. C. here … and Rachel after her.
Rachel tried to restrain her temper. She had been patient with Kitty Cat, but her patience was strained. If Merrill or anyone else at River’s Haven discovered where she and the child were tonight, there was sure to be trouble. They were standing on the port side of the boat, facing the far shore, but someone might still be able to see them from Haven.
“Kitty Cat, you promised me that you wouldn’t come here without me.”
The little girl stubbed her toe against a space between the deck boards as she hugged her rag doll close. “You were upset about having to bring the parts here, so I thought I would.”
“Kitty Cat, a promise is a promise.”
“And you promised to get the parts to Wyatt and Horace as soon as they were ready.”
“I would have.” She sighed. “Kitty Cat, you can’t use an excuse to break a promise.”
“But I thought you’d want me to bring the parts to Horace and Wyatt.” Kitty Cat stared at the deck, her chin on the rag doll’s head. “I thought if I brought the news about the parts here, Mr. Browning and Mr. Foley wouldn’t get mad at you.”
Rachel put her hand over her mouth to mute her gasp of astonishment. She should not be surprised that Kitty Cat was so attentive to the people around her. The child would have had to develop that skill to survive on the brutal streets where she had lived before being taken to the orphanage and the train west.
She put her hand under the little girl’s chin and tilted it up. “Thank you, but you shouldn’t worry about Merrill and Mr. Foley.”
“You do.”
“Yes, I do. Let me worry for both of us.”
Kitty Cat’s eyes grew luminous with tears. “I don’t want you to be unhappy, Rachel. I want you to be happy.”
“I am whenever I’m with you.” She hugged the little girl.
“Me, too.”
“And me as well,” said Wyatt as he stepped out of the shadows beneath the deck. She was surprised to see he was wearing a fringed buckskin coat when the night was still thick with the day’s heat.
“Wyatt!” shouted Kitty Cat, rushing to throw her arms around him as if she had not seen him in days.
Rachel smiled as he picked up the little girl and tossed her up in the air, catching her with ease. Kitty Cat giggled when he set her back onto the deck. As he straightened, he grimaced.
“Did you hurt yourself?” asked Rachel.
“If I say yes, will you make it better?” he returned.
Kitty Cat piped up to say, “Rachel’s good at making things better.”
Wyatt took Rachel’s hand and drew her closer. “Are you, honey? Will you make me—and you—feel much better?”
Before she could answer, he enlightened her face with kisses. Her fear for how she would explain this to Kitty Cat vanished into her need for him. She quivered as his lips slipped along her face and his tongue teased her ear. She wanted more of this. Much more. More of the caresses, more of the fire that burned to the tips of her toes, more of the delight that she did not dare to give a name to.
She slipped her hands beneath his coat. Gazing up into his eyes, she longed to cede herself to the blazing promises there. She wanted nothing between her fingers and his skin. To touch …
She pulled back as her fingers found cold metal lying against his chest. “Why are you wearing a gun?” she choked.
“I’ve been hearing things.”
“About trouble for you and The Ohio Star?”
“Some folks don’t like you coming here again and again to retrieve Kitty Cat. I’ve been hearing things recently.” His lips tightened. “Why are you staring at me like that? Do you think I’m such an idiot that I wouldn’t watch out for my boat?”
She shook her head. “You haven’t worn a gun before tonight.”
“You should know that better than anyone else. You’ve had the opportunity to check.”
A heated flush climbed her face. “But why now?”
“Because of your brother.”
“Merrill?” she whispered.
“Do you have another?”
She turned to Kitty Cat, who was listening avidly. “Go and see what Horace is doing.”
Kitty Cat nodded and skipped toward the stairs, calling Horace’s name with excitement.
Rachel looked back at Wyatt. “Merrill is so busy with his honeymoon now that he won’t be thinking of anything else.”
“He’ll be done with his honeymoon pretty quickly.”
“By then …” She sighed.
He put his finger beneath her chin as she had to Kitty Cat. Tipping it up, he said, “By then, I’ll be gone. That’s what you don’t want to say, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“You knew right from the beginning that this was just a quick stop … this time. The next time we come by—”
“If you’re about to say that you’ll come and visit Kitty Cat and me, don’t. Merrill told Mr. Foley that I’ve accepted his proposal.”
Wyatt swore. “And you aren’t going to fight his bully-boy tactics?”
Rachel rubbed her hands together as she walked to the steps leading to the upper decks. Lightning flashed in the distance, and she flinched. “Kitty Cat, we need to go now.” She turned to look at Wyatt and said more quietly, “I told Mr. Foley I won’t consider getting married until after the Centennial celebration.”
“That must not have made your brother very happy.” He closed the distance between them, backing her up against the railing.
“What would make me happy is for you to step aside.”
“And this is what would make me happy, honey.” When his lips claimed hers, demanding and yet surprisingly tender, she meant to push him away. She intended to shout that she would not be his, but, as lazy thunder sounded in the distance, her arms rose to encircle his shoulders as she answered his fired passion with her own.
Yearning for him was wrong for many reasons, but being in his arms was right for a single one: She loved him.
Rachel gasped when he released her. Why? He ached for more than a single kiss. She could sense that as if his thoughts were her own. And they were, for she craved his eager embrace.
He kissed the tip of her nose and said, “Be careful on your way back to River’s Haven. With that thunder and lightning rolling in, it may rain before you get there.”
“Wyatt?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I thought—” Swallowing raggedly, she regained control of her voice as Kitty Cat bounced down the stairs. “That is, I wanted to tell you good evening.”
“I would have preferred if you’d told me good night, Rachel.” Wyatt started up the stairs.
She stared after him. Not knowing what she wanted was a peculiar sensation. For so long, she had worked to make a home for herself at River’s Haven. Before that, she had focused on her family in Ohio. Now … Now she ached for Wyatt’s arms around her, but he clearly could not wait to get his boat fixed and back on the river.
A small hand slipped into hers. She looked down at Kitty Cat, who was regarding her with dismay. As she bent to see what was bothering the child, Kitty Cat put her hand up to Rachel’s cheek.
Rachel put her hand over Kitty Cat’s; then her fingers brushed the little girl’s cheek. It was damp, and she knelt, drawing the child into her arms. She wished she could cry, too. When had she last been able to cry? Tears had filled her eyes too often since her father’s death, but she had not let them fall. With Wyatt getting ready to leave …
She stood and took a single step toward the plank connecting The Ohio Star to the shore. She paused and stared at the lights of the village of Haven on the bluff above. Turning, she sought along the river for any hint of River’s Haven. Fog was beginning to gather, rolling along the water like an ancient dragon. Its fierce breath was visible in ano
ther flash of lightning.
She must not let her own thoughts be caught up in a fog as well. On the morrow, Wyatt would come out to River’s Haven and collect the rest of the parts he had ordered. A few days to repair The Ohio Star, and he could leave Haven … and her to her life at River’s Haven.
She stared again in the direction of the Community. There, Mr. Foley was already planning their wedding. No one would heed her protests now that Merrill had spread the story that she had agreed to marry the Elder. If she stayed at River’s Haven, she would have to marry Mr. Foley.
Looking down at Kitty Cat, she saw the little girl was also gazing up at the village. Did Kitty Cat wish she had been placed out with a family in Haven? Maybe Rachel should take Kitty Cat and move into the village. Reverend Faulkner would help them until Rachel could find a way to support them. Then … It really did not matter what happened then, because she would have lost both Wyatt and her family at River’s Haven. She would be alone.
Alone! She hated the very word. And she hated the idea of being alone tonight. She knew what she was risking with these thoughts, but she also knew what she could capture tonight. Even though she would be left with memories of what she wanted every day, she could not turn away from having this night with Wyatt. If she left now, she would lose this single chance to grasp happiness.
She turned and walked up the stairs. Kitty Cat pelted her with questions, but Rachel did not answer. How could she explain to the child that she was letting her heart rule her head?
As she walked along the upper deck, she heard raised voices. Wyatt and Horace! What were they arguing about? Her steps faltered. Maybe she should leave, even though she doubted if she would have the courage—or the opportunity—to come back to The Ohio Star.
A string of oaths burst from the saloon, and she was tempted to put her hands over Kitty Cat’s ears, although she guessed the little girl had heard much worse in New York City. She froze when the curses were followed by Horace saying, “You’re a fool if you let her walk out on you! When are you going to find another like her?”
“Do you want me to hog tie her and make her stay?” Wyatt asked.
“If that’s what it takes, then yes. Even the kid can see that you two belong together. Why else did she come here tonight, knowing that Miss Rachel would follow?”
Rachel again looked at Kitty Cat, who seemed anxious to avoid her eyes as she cuddled her doll. Could it be true? Could Kitty Cat be playing matchmaker? She was unsure whether to hug or scold the child.
But one thing she was sure of. Not releasing Kitty Cat’s hand, Rachel went to the door of the saloon. She yelped when she was nearly knocked off her feet as Wyatt charged out like a knight riding in a tournament.
“What are you doing here?” he asked as he kept both her and Kitty Cat from falling to the deck.
“I think you and I need to talk.” She stepped aside as Kitty Cat ran to sit in a rocking chair beside Horace.
“We’ve talked and talked, and nothing changes. You intend to ruin your life by marrying a man you don’t love.”
“What about your life?”
His forehead threaded with confusion. “What about my life?”
She ran her fingers along those furrows as she whispered, “Will it ruin your life if I marry Mr. Foley?”
“It sure wouldn’t help anything.”
Taking both of his hands in hers, she said, “Then we need to talk. We need to talk somewhere where nobody else will hear.”
“This way.” He put his arm around her waist, keeping her close as they walked along the narrow deck that was brightened by a bolt of lightning cutting through the fog.
When he opened a door near the stern and motioned for her to enter, Rachel went into the tiny room that was awash with more lightning. It was reflecting off the water and the fog, jeweling them with a shower of diamonds. No lamp was lit, but there was no need.
She turned as Wyatt closed the door and bumped into him. She laughed, the sound as childlike as Kitty Cat’s giggle.
“Are you nervous to be here?” he asked in the hushed, husky whisper that sent a tremor of anticipation along her.
“Should I be?”
He chuckled, unhooking the gun and setting it on the windowsill while thunder careened along the river. “This room is my quarters, honey.”
“I know.”
“Where I want you to stay tonight.”
“I know.”
“In my bed with me.”
She framed his face with her hands and brought his mouth toward hers as she whispered, “You talk too much.” She kissed him.
He tilted her head back gently, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “I thought you wanted to talk.”
“I was lying.”
“You? I thought you were always going to be honest.”
“I vowed lots of things.” Why was he delaying when she wanted him to hold her?
He gave her a leering grin as his arm around her waist swept her to him. “But I want you lying.”
“You do?”
“Lying right next to me.”
She laughed and sifted her fingers up through his hair as his lips stroked hers. That touch silenced the little voice warning her she was making a huge mistake. It could not be a mistake to have this one night that she would treasure for the rest of her life. Thunder sounded much closer, but she paid it no mind as she lost herself in his exquisite kiss.
He took her hands and drew her to his bed. Sitting, he whispered, “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” she said as quietly, thrilled that it was the truth.
“Honey, I can’t make you any promises—”
“But that you’ll delight me tonight.” Putting her finger to his lips, she asked, “Will you stop trying to talk me out of this? Or have you changed your mind?”
“On this? Never, honey.” With a laugh, he tugged her down to his lap.
Her feet flew up in the air as he reclined her back onto the narrow bed and leaned over her, chuckling along with her. His mouth slanted across hers as he released her hair to scatter down her back and over his pillow. His eyes held hers, promising to bring to life every fantasy she had imagined, as his fingers slid along her hair.
She quivered when a single finger glided along her, grazing her neck and brushing the curve of her breast. When her hair drifted about her, he smoothed it away. She sighed with a longing that was beyond words as he traced a meandering path along her abdomen before his fingers rose to curve around her face. Putting her arms around his shoulders, she drew him down to her. His hungry lips slipped along her neck, sampling each pleasure waiting for him. Teasing the curve of his ear with her tongue, she shivered even though his rapid breath was searing her skin.
He began to undo the hooks down the back of her gown with a patience that amazed her. How could he be going so slow when she yearned to tear his clothes from him so she could touch his bare skin?
As he drew her up to sit, he brushed her sleeve down her arm to reveal her shift. He laughed and reached for the ties holding her skirt in place.
“Stand up!” he ordered. “This thing is too bulky. I never thought I’d say I preferred your other dress, but it has its advantages.”
Rising to her knees, she pushed his hand away as she untied her skirt and petticoats. She unbuttoned her shoes. Then she slid to the edge of the bed and kicked the heavy garments and her shoes to the floor to leave her dressed only in her shift and pantalets.
“Better?” she asked.
His voice was raw with passion as he hooked his arm around her and tugged her back to him. “Much better, honey, but it can be better yet.”
“I know.” She drew his shirt out of his trousers and slipped her hands up beneath it, eager to let her palms learn every inch of his chest. His heart thudded against her fingertips, its speed increasing as she slid her tongue against the rough, bristly skin of his jaw.
He groaned and brought her to lie atop him. Thrilled at how she could please him as he had her,
she continued her exploration as she loosened each button on his shirt. When she was undoing the final one, his hands curved up her legs, raising her shift over her knees. She gripped his shoulders, overwhelmed by the sensations battering her.
Then everything vanished into laughter as his hands coursed up her thighs. “No!” she cried. “No! Stop, Wyatt! Please stop!”
“Honey, we haven’t even started yet.”
“You are tick—You’re tickling me!” She collapsed on the bed, unable to stop laughing.
“Tickling you? Where?”
She pointed to her upper leg. “It tickles me when you touch me there.”
“It tickles me, too.” He pulled off his boots, dropped them on the floor, and then rose onto all fours on the bed to look down at her. “You have no idea how much, honey.” He laughed before he silenced her with kisses.
Suddenly, with all her heart, she wanted to know the love that should have been theirs. Locking her fingers together at his nape, she closed her eyes as he drew off her stockings. He took care not to tickle her again, but she did not trust the humor glinting in his eyes. When he entangled his legs with hers, she wondered when he had removed the rest of his clothes. She did not let the thought bother her as she savored the sensation of his skin on hers.
“Better?” he whispered.
“Much better.”
He looped one finger over the lace at the very center of her chemise’s neckline. “It still can be even better, honey. You need to get rid of this.”
She sat, his gaze holding hers while she lifted the hem of her chemise and drew it over her head. When she had tossed it aside, he knelt on either side of her legs and put his hands on her shoulders, leaning her back again into the pillow.
His eyes burned with silver desire as he ran a single finger across her lips and over her chin. When his hand cupped her breast, he bent to caress it with his lips. She writhed when his tongue teased its very tip. His other hand slid along her stomach to curve over her hips. When she moaned his name, he bent forward to taste the heat on her lips. As lightly as his fingers had moved along her, his tongue stroked her lips, then flicked dazzling heat along her, taking the same sensual journey his fingers had.
Moonlight on Water Page 17