Wed to the Montana Cowboy

by Carol Arens

Glancing left and right he searched the shadows for any sign of a night prowler, be it two-or four-legged. The only thing shuffling in the shadows was the wind bending the treetops and twirling the dirt about his boots.

  The barn door squealed when he flung it open. The music stopped. He heard a rustle in the straw pile in the far corner of the barn. Didn’t sound like a mouse.

  “Rebecca Walker, I’ve come to bring you home!”

  * * *

  Heavy boot falls pounded the hard packed floor of the barn. Even in the dark they did not slow down or stumble, but came toward her like an arrow to a target.

  Lantree crouched beside her then scooped her up.

  “Put me down,” she demanded but he strode back the way he had come, carrying her weight without seeming the slightest bit winded. “You can’t just haul me about like...like—”

  Well, clearly he could. And to be honest, while it made her feel powerless, it was in a curiously pleasant way.

  “I demand that you set me free!” She flailed her legs and shoved his chest knowing very well that he was not going to even loosen his grip. In her heart of hearts, she knew that she did not want him to.

  Outside, the wind had begun to howl over and under the barn eaves. Great gusts tore at the treetops and across the ground.

  He hauled her past the big house. From the parlor window she saw Grandfather with his arm slung about Melinda’s shoulder. Why, the pair of them were grinning like loons!

  Without losing his grip on her, Lantree opened the front door of the cabin and swept inside.

  All of a sudden it hit her, how much she had missed her cozy home and how very much she had missed sharing it with Lantree.

  Still, she could hardly steal Melinda’s beloved.

  “You can’t keep me here against my will, Lantree Walker.”

  “Give me a minute,” he said, setting her on the floor after a long, slow slide down his body. “And it won’t be against your will.”

  He set his rifle aside without letting go of her, then he cupped her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.

  Dipping his head, he kissed her. She gave herself over to it for a moment but Melinda’s face flashed in her mind and she turned her head to the side.

  “This is not right.” She tried to yank away but he only tugged her in tighter, so tight that she felt the heavy thud of his heart.

  “You are my wife. Nothing could be more right if it’s what you want, Becca.”

  “What I want is for you and Melinda to be happy...together.”

  “Me and Melinda?” His brows arched. “Is that what’s made you so standoffish? There’s a man for your cousin, but he isn’t me.”

  “But she’s in love with you! I saw the exact second it happened. It was the very first time she looked at you.”

  “I won’t deny that Melinda loves me, she told me so not more than an hour ago.”

  Oh, why could the cabin floor not open up and swallow her whole? To suspect something was ever so much easier than hearing the truth spoken out loud.

  “Then why have you dragged me here?”

  “I’ll quote the exact conversation we had. ‘You need to do something about Rebecca,’ Melinda said. ‘Would if I damn well knew what,’ from me. Then she says, ‘Think about it. My cousin believes I’m in love with you because the first time I saw you I fell into a magnificent crush, because who wouldn’t... Well, Becca noticed and now she believes that I love you, and because she thinks so harshly of herself, she believes that you must be madly in love with me, too.’ I was dumbfounded, so she said, ‘Go set my fool cousin straight.’ I said, ‘Hell and damn!’ Then she said, ‘It is true that I love you, but it’s because you love my Becca so very much.’”

  He took a long breath, clearly waiting for her reaction.

  “By the saints!” Every word that he quoted would have been exactly what Melinda would say. But— “It makes no sense. How could you not be in love with Melinda? She’s an exceptional beauty, kind and funny and—and everyone loves her.”

  “Because I love you!”

  Humph! Why did he look so annoyed about it?

  “Once and for all I am going to put an end to this ugly duckling nonsense,” he said.

  “Well, they do say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so you might be—”

  He took her roughly, but not unpleasantly, by the wrist and pulled her behind him into the bedroom. There was a long glass mirror in the corner and he positioned her in front of it then lit the lamp on the bedside table. A soft glow shimmered off their reflections. Outside, the wind slammed against the house.

  “Tell me what you see...and be honest, not so stubborn that you’ll deny the truth just to be right in your own mind.”

  “I see an exceptionally handsome Viking of a man standing behind me. He looks peeved about just having declared his love, though.”

  “Not peeved.” He kissed her temple. “Only determined to make you take off those blinders and see the incredible woman that I see.”

  “You and my cousin, both of you cut from the same cloth. Really, Lantree, I do have eyes in my head.”

  He placed his fingers on her waist. The span of his hands was so large that it nearly circled it.

  “I aim to make you see yourself through my eyes. I challenge you to hold your tongue while I do.”

  He lifted one hand from her waist to trace the curve of her cheekbone.

  “Harsh, angular,” she muttered.

  “Hush.” He nipped her ear. A delicious chill washed over her. “A goddess would envy them.

  “Nicely arched brows,” he said, tracing the shape of them, one by one. “Pretty eyes, full of intelligence and humor. They shine with the joy of being alive. That’s something you would not be able to see on your own. Don’t you know that whenever you smile at someone it lights up their day?”

  She held her tongue. It was true that she had always appreciated the shape of her brows.

  “Lips made for kissing.” He looked at them for a moment in the glass, his gaze heating up as he did.

  “A long slender neck, so graceful and...” His fingers dipped to her collar... He opened a button. Behind her she felt his breath quicken when he traced the hollow of her throat with his thumb. “Attached to the most exquisitely formed female body I have ever seen.”

  She snapped her head around. “You’ve never seen my female body!”

  “Twice.” A wide grin spread his mouth. “The first time barely counted since I was tending your wounds and trying to remain professional. I will admit, it did take some effort. But the next time there was water glistening all over you and I enjoyed that very much.”

  “You mean at camp? You spied on my bath?”

  “By accident. Look back at the mirror.” He turned her chin so that she could do nothing else.

  “It’s time, Becca.”

  One by one he opened the buttons of her dress, all the way down to the waist. He drew her arms out of the sleeves, then pressed the body of the gown past her hips. It billowed down, making a blue puddle at her feet.

  “I love you. You will be mine.”

  The heat of his gaze and the warmth of his breath on her ear told her this was true. That he meant to make her his wife in every way, just as he had promised that night by the pond.

  She wanted that, too. But try as he might, he would not make her believe that she was pretty. She was plain. A fact was a fact.

  She’d been looking at the mirror, so she should have noticed that he’d loosened the pink ribbon holding her underclothes together. However, what she had been watching were the changing expressions flitting across his face. She hadn’t noticed that he had removed the rest of her clothing until she felt cool air brushing her skin.

  To her astonishment, she was standing
before him naked...for the third time. The only thing protecting her modesty was the fall of thick hair covering her chest, and her splayed hands where she crossed them over the junction of her thighs.

  Heat flared from her face. Her throat, normally as pale as milk, pulsed with red splotches.

  Long fingers, tanned and calloused, touched one red spot, then another. Slowly, he drew the hair away from one side of her neck and tucked it behind her shoulder, fully revealing her left breast. He suckled her skin where her neck curved into her shoulder.

  He drew the hair back from her right side, baring her, then kissing her throat on that side. She felt the scrape of flannel against her back, the rub of denim on her bottom and thighs.

  “Tell me what you see,” he murmured. The cool circle of moisture where his mouth had been made her shiver.

  “Can’t...speak...just now,” she panted. How could he expect her to when she could barely draw a breath or form a thought?

  “Here’s what I see...pale and lovely breasts, tipped by sweet brown nipples blushed with pink.”

  Oh, by the saints, her legs were trembling. How long would she be able to stand here watching him watch her...staring wide-eyed while he cupped her breasts, one in each large hand.

  Clearly, Lantree Walker knew what to do with the female body. He watched in the mirror while her nipples tightened. Then he kneaded, stroked, cupped and tugged until she gasped. Whatever magic he was laving on her made her want to behave in a most unladylike way. It was all she could do to press her knees together.

  “Look at yourself, Becca. Can you see yourself through my eyes yet?”

  “Umm—” It was a moan more than an answer, but he was beginning to make his point. She wanted to stretch like a cat and purr. She could not recall a cat that was not confident in its beauty.

  He took her hands, drew them apart, one by one.

  “Let me tell you then.” His voice had grown hoarse. “I see my beautiful wife, with curvy hips and long shapely thighs. Even your feet...those high arches and slender toes are all woman.”

  Those very toes gripped the floor without even feeling it. Womanly feet? By the saints! He might be getting carried away and to be impeccably honest, she did not mind.

  “Here’s the truth, love. You’re mistaken in thinking beauty comes from being petite and delicate. You, with your long graceful limbs, are sumptuous...radiant. You have more beauty inside your soul than I’ve ever seen.

  “I know that your mother left you, your father did, too, and that made you, an innocent child, think lowly of yourself. Listen to me. Let this sink down into your soul...I will never leave you. You are everything to me, Becca.”

  Watching his face in the mirror, seeing that he meant it, her heart understood. He loved her and that made her beautiful.

  For the first time in her life, she felt pretty. When she had expected to feel ill-favored standing naked before this exceptionally virile man, she did not.

  Dizzy...she felt so light... No, it was more like heavy...drugged.

  Lantree supported her weight with one muscled arm about her waist. She felt the scrape of denim on her bottom. His suntanned skin made hers look pale...and, she had to admit, delicate.

  His free hand touched her belly, rubbing gently and trailing downward, lower and lower until— Oh...oh, my.

  With two fingers, he gently spread her feminine folds. She saw a flash of swollen pink, then it was hidden by his fingers as they stroked her.

  “You are the loveliest woman I’ve ever seen. Do you believe it yet?”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes because the sensations he drew from her were so delightfully intense.

  “Open your eyes, Becca. I want you to see what I see.”

  She sought his eyes in the mirror, held his gaze while she shattered.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Taking her by the shoulders, Lantree turned Rebecca away from the mirror and wrapped her in an embrace. The scent of her on his fingers made him want to howl like a beast, jump upon her and claim her.

  But he was not a beast so he held her tenderly, stroking her back and murmuring in her ear that he loved her.

  He squeezed her bottom cheeks, both of them in one big hand, while with the other hand he cradled the back of her head. He kissed her long and hard...tasted her with slow seduction.

  Leaves slapped the windows, branches creaked in trees, but inside the lamp glowed softly, making the cabin a refuge.

  “Come, love,” he whispered in her ear while guiding her backward.

  The backs of her knees butted the bed. She tumbled down, her breasts jiggling as she settled into the give of the mattress.

  “But I want to see you undress in front of the mirror,” she said.

  “You be my mirror.”

  Very slowly, he yanked his shirt from his pants then tossed it on the floor.

  “Don’t dawdle,” she chided. “You’ve made me feel all twitchy inside.”

  “That’s all part of the pleasure.”

  She flung her arms wide across the mattress. “Don’t tell me I’ve married a cruel man.”

  Her words might sound cross, if breathless, but she gazed up at him, her lids half-lowered, her expression soft and dreamy.

  “You’ve married a grateful man.”

  Finally naked, he stretched his length on top of her. He knew he was solid, heavy as stone, but not a flicker of unease crossed her expression.

  He’d told her he was grateful, but it went so much deeper than that. At last here was a woman he could get lost in. Go with her into passion, to the place where they would become lost to everything, except to each other.

  Before he could do that, though, there was one thing—

  “Rebecca, I want you, you know I do, but the way we were married, you never had a choice. What I want to know is, do you choose me now? Not the now as in right now, but do you choose me...for always? Do you want this marriage?”

  “I take you, Lantree Boone Walker to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold.”

  She touched the side of his face with a delicate stroke.

  He lifted up on his elbows to better see her expression. She smiled, her eyes moist, shining in the lamplight.

  “From this day forward,” he answered. “Forsaking all others.”

  “For better or for worse, until death do us part... You may kiss your bride...or do anything else you have in mind.”

  “Were you a good student in school, Mrs. Walker?”

  “I was dedicated to my studies.”

  “Let’s get down to lessons, shall we?”

  “I love you, Lantree.”

  He kissed the tender flesh between her breasts so that he could feel her heartbeat under his mouth.

  “I aim to make you so happy that you never regret it,” he whispered.

  Sweet cream could not be more delectable than the smooth glide of her skin under his tongue. A breeze on a sweltering summer night could not be more sultry than her sigh of surrender against his ear.

  “I’m going to learn what you taste like, Becca, every line, dent and fold of you.”

  “What fold?” The breath hitched in her lungs. Clearly she was shocked, but there was no mistaking the curiosity in her voice.

  “The one that got you blushing.”

  “Do people—”

  Her question ended abruptly when he eased downward and spread her thighs.

  “The blessed ones do,” he answered.

  Some thoughts were in his mind, but with the female scent of her so close, words dried up.

  He tasted her then became lost in sensation. Sex had never been like this before.

  But God had granted him a perfect mate. She was his match. He didn’t mean only her amazing body, but also her sweet
, bold and independent soul.

  Glancing up, he saw that Rebecca was as consumed as he was. Even though this was her first time, she did not show apprehension. She gazed back at him with all the fever he felt burning inside him.

  He reached up to cup, to fondle her breasts, then slid up her belly and her ribs with slow hot kisses.

  Her hips lifted under his with a shy thrust. She clutched his shoulders.

  He nudged her with his erection, hesitant...wondering if with the moment upon them she might tense up...perhaps withdraw from him.

  Then, he felt her fingers upon him, inviting him into her body...and into the rest of her life.

  Coming into her slowly, he felt the world fall into place about him. Tender flesh clenched about him and he thrust faster rushing headlong to where there was only Becca, the scent of her and the sound of her sighs...hurtling to that place where the harshness of the world fell away and left perfect peace in its place.

  * * *

  At noon, Lantree drew Rebecca into the barn after him and pulled the door closed against the wind, which had only intensified during the morning hours.

  Somehow he hadn’t noticed it so much last night. His wife had occupied his full attention. She was every bit of the woman that he had daydreamed about...her inner fire and her easy laugh...her soft sigh as he penetrated her. Hell and damn, he’d forgotten that the rest of the world existed until Rebecca had announced that she was hungry.

  So was he, now that he looked beyond the bed. If he was hungry, the stock must be, as well.

  He’d promised his wife that he would return quickly, but Rebecca had insisted on coming with him.

  Now that he glanced about the barn, some interesting possibilities occurred to him.

  With the wind as strong as it was, no one would be likely to venture outside.

  Rebecca stared at the fresh pile of straw in one of the stalls. She glanced up at him with a grin.

  “I’ll fetch a blanket from the tack room.”

  He hurried into the back room, lifted the blanket from the shelf, then met Rebecca in the stall. He spread the red wool over the straw.

  “Wait here while I feed the animals.”