Kept by the Bull Rider

by Sasha Gold

  Not this time. Charlotte had changed everything. He trudged to the house, seething with irritation and lust. Opening his door, he eyed her door. A lantern flickered. He heard a bump and a muttered curse. Moving quietly, he stopped in front of her door and listened. Unable to resist the urge, he knocked.

  A gasp was followed by a soft voice. “Yes?”

  He pushed the door open. She sat on the edge of the bed and regarded him with wide eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  She hiccupped and lifted a hand to her mouth.

  “Are you packing? To go back to Boston?

  She dropped her hand to her lap. “No. I wouldn’t do that, Will.”

  He nodded. She wore a nightgown. Lacy and floral but it covered at least as much of her as the dress she’d worn to church. Her hair was loose, tumbling down her back. He’d like to buy her something a little more feminine in Fort Worth. His imagination flooded his mind with images of her in a gown that was delicate and clung to her. He shook the thoughts from his mind.

  “Good. Because if you did, I’d find you. And I’d bring you right back.”

  His words were crude and rough, but for some reason they brought a smile to her lips.

  “No need. I’m not going anywhere. I mean, I’m not going back to Boston.”

  He nodded. “Good night, Charlotte.”

  Her smile widened into a grin. The response made his blood boil.

  “Good night, Mr. Travis.”

  Chapter Five

  Charlotte

  As a child, she’d been the naughty one, the girl the nuns always suspected when something went wrong. Most of the time, they’d been right, sadly. If the other girls needed to scale a wall to put a frog in the Mother Superior’s house slipper, it was Charlotte that got the job. When the newest girl arrived at the orphanage the day of her seventeenth birthday, the rest of the older girls nominated Charlotte to secure a bottle of Communion wine.

  She was stealthy and careful.

  Skills that came in handy, even years after she’d left St. Mathews. One skill she’d never developed, though, was how to ignore a full bladder. She winced as the buckboard hit an especially deep rut.

  “I do feel terrible,” Will told someone.

  She’d dozed off and woken to the sound of his voice. Suddenly she felt wide awake. More than anything, she wished she could yank the tarp down and see Will. For the time being she’d have to content herself with listening. Why did he feel terrible? She held her breath.

  “I should have read every one of her letters. I only opened a few and it seems I missed a few things.”

  “Mr. Travis, that’s terrible,” Mary said.

  “Perfectly understandable,” Silas defended. “Mr. Travis is a busy man. Maybe Mrs. Travis went on and on like some ladies do.”

  Both Will and Silas laughed. Mary was silent.

  Beneath the tarp, Charlotte fumed. He hadn’t even read all her letters? In Boston, she’d burn candle after candle writing and rewriting each letter. All she wanted was to get the words right. The next day, she would walk to the post office, hands shaking, and pay the postage to mail her letter. She imagined him opening it and reading her words. In her mind’s eye, he read her words with his hand to his heart. Perhaps a tear to two rolling down his face.

  “Her letters are sweet,” Will said. “I’ve read them all. Some of them twice.”

  Charlotte gritted her teeth.

  “Thing is, I want to make it up to her,” he continued. “I want to do something special.”

  That might happen a little sooner than you realize…

  “Like what?” Mary asked, her voice tight with what sounded to Charlotte like resentment. “Buy her something pretty in Fort Worth?”

  “I offered to buy her jewels, anything she wanted, really.”

  They rode in silence, the only sound the clip-clop of the horses.

  “So, what did she say?” Mary demanded. “I hope she asked for something expensive.”

  “Nah, she won’t let me buy her anything. I think I might get her a saddle. A fancy, lady’s saddle with a brass nameplate. That’s what I want to get her. And then I’m going to teach her to ride.”

  Mary snorted. “Mr. Travis, can we go back to the diamond idea?”

  Charlotte smiled. She could hear the loyalty and generous spirit in Mary’s voice.

  “A saddle’s not a bad idea at all,” Silas offered. “Mrs. Travis will get a lot more use from a saddle than a bunch of diamonds.”

  “I don’t know why you’re saying anything,” Mary grumbled. “You never bought me either.”

  A voice in the distance called Will and he excused himself. Charlotte listened as his horse’s hoof beats faded. She remained still. If she moved, and they were close enough to Colter Canyon, Will would simply have one of his men take her home. She didn’t want that, not only because she yearned to travel with him, but the notion of being sent home like a misbehaving child was too much for her pride.

  So she waited.

  A few times she dozed off. Lying on the buckboard was unpleasant and boring. The buckboard was forever rolling over a rock or a dip or a rut and she got banged around constantly. Despite that, she fell asleep frequently. A scream woke her. She blinked in the light of blinding sunshine. Mary stood at the end of the buckboard, staring, pale-faced.

  “Mrs. Travis, you are wicked. I almost died when I saw someone lying under the tarp.”

  “Hush, Mary. You’re going to get me into trouble.” She sat up and looked around. Will galloped across the flat prairie land directly at the buckboard. He pulled his gelding up and trotted the last few yards.

  His eyes were hard and his mouth was set in a thin line. “Charlotte.” He snarled and gripped his reins in a massive, clenched fist.

  A laugh escaped her lips and she feigned a yawn. “What am I doing here?”

  Mary stared, her eyes wide as saucers. “I have to talk to Silas about starting the campfire.”

  With that she vanished, leaving Charlotte alone with Will.

  “You disobeyed me,” Will spat.

  “You didn’t read my letters?”

  He frowned and looked away. She watched as he kept his gaze directed at some vague point out on the horizon. He looked furious. She’d expected as much, but he didn’t look as angry as she expected, probably because she’d heard his confession about the letters.

  “Cattle drives are dangerous, Charlotte,” he said finally. “I didn’t want you to come because I wanted you to be safe.”

  “I’ll be safe here on the buckboard with Mary. I might even be able to help her. Maybe even you.”

  He turned back to Charlotte and his expression was not what she expected. He still seemed plenty angry, but she also saw amusement in his eyes, and maybe some satisfaction too. Without another word, he rode away.

  Mary returned some time later and Charlotte spent the next hour helping with lunch. They prepared chili and beans and cornbread while they talked quietly about Charlotte’s brazen game of stowaway.

  The sun set while they ate. Will came around every so often, giving her a dark look, one that promised trouble. What did she care? He wouldn’t have it out with her in front of his men or Silas and Mary. At least, she was fairly certain he wouldn’t do that.

  The cattle took some time to settle down for the night, stirring up so much dust as to block out much of the Eastern sky. Thankfully the cowboys kept the herd downwind of the camp. In small groups the cowboys took turns coming to the fire to eat the dinner Mary and she had prepared, while the others kept watch over the herd to make sure they didn’t wander off.

  By the time everyone was finished eating, the sky had turned a lovely shade of purple. Slowly the color faded and stars glimmered, appearing one by one. The cowboys hobbled their horses and spread out their bedrolls. Charlotte sat on the end of the buckboard swinging her legs, wondering how the evening would progress. Maybe she would bed down right there on the buckboard.

  A cool evening br
eeze stirred. She took a deep breath. For some reason, she felt at peace. Will was furious, but he was near and that was enough. Will walked across the grassy flats toward her. She could make out very little, but from the outline of his shoulders, she could see he was still angry. There was a certain posture he wore. One she recognized.

  “You’ll have to sleep with me.”

  He said the words in passing. He didn’t pause or even look her way, but muttered the comment as he kept walking. Drawn by an invisible force, she hopped down and followed. Part of her was relieved that he had come for her. She’d worried that he might simply ignore and forget her, but he hadn’t. She hurried to keep with his languid pace.

  “Thank you, Will. You happen to have an extra bedroll?”

  He chuckled and her heart warmed. Sweet. He had extra bedding. Maybe he’d wanted her to come all along.

  “I promise not to be any trouble. You won’t even know that I’m here.”

  She smiled and waited for a response. He didn’t say a word. In the darkness, she could make out that he had spread out the bedding and was taking off his boots. She waited. A conversation was most likely out of the question and she didn’t blame him. Everyone had woken early. She didn’t want to trouble him.

  He settled into his bedding with a groan. “C’mon.”

  Cautiously she groped in the darkness, searching for her bedding. When her hand landed on Will’s chest, she gasped. “I’m sorry. Where is my bedroll?”

  “Right here.”

  “Right where?”

  “With me.”

  She patted the ground searching, but finding nothing.

  “Where?”

  He grasped her wrist and tugged her near. “With me, Charlotte.”

  Her breath froze in her chest. She realized that there was no other bedding aside from his and that he awaited her from the depths of his bedroll. She bit her lip and considered her options.

  Somehow sensing her discomfort, he spoke gently. “Charlotte. You need to sleep next to me. I’m not going to have my wicked way with you here in the middle of the wilderness.”

  She tried to calm her frantic heart. This hadn’t been any part of her careful plan. She’d imagined she would sleep near him, certainly, but not next to him.

  “Charlotte.” His voice was rough. “Come to bed. I’m ready for sleep. All I want is to keep you safe.”

  She let out a sigh, relaxing slightly even though she didn’t quite believe what he said. When she’d slipped off her boots and shrugged off her coat, she drew near his bedroll. Tentatively, she reached for the edge and slipped her feet in. Awkwardly, and with tremendous mortification, she inched deeper inside.

  When she was finally deep within the bedroll, she let out a tight, trembling sigh. Despite the narrow confines of the bedroll, he didn’t touch her. She waited, wondering if he might grab her and punish her for her defiance. But he didn’t. He neither moved nor spoke and a chill sank into her as she lay on her side waiting and wondering.

  Slowly she shifted, turning to face him. “It’s cold out here.”

  “You’re cold?”

  “A little.”

  “Come closer.”

  “Said the spider to the fly.”

  He laughed. “Come to me, Charlotte.”

  She inched closer, half-expecting him to pounce. Instead he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. His touch was gentle and comforting. She sank against him and reveled in the feel of his strong body, a hard wall of muscle and power, wrapped around her, sheltering her.

  “I finally get you into my bed,” he whispered.

  A breeze stirred the trees, rustling the leaves. A coyote yipped in the distance and his pack answered nearby. Howls shattered the quiet evening. The animals baying erupted like a wave and seemed to float up in to the night sky before fading away.

  “One of them found something and he’s calling his family.”

  “I’ve heard them at night, but it’s always sounded so far away. Will they bother the cattle?” Without realizing, she moved deeper into his embrace and he tightened his arms, pulling her close.

  “Sometimes they’ll bother a mama when she’s calving, but we only brought steers and heifers.”

  “That’s awful. I mean, about them going after a mother.”

  “It’s rare. We round up our cows and bring them into a nearby pasture in the spring. You’ll see. Pretty soon we’ll have a bunch of little ones.”

  His voice, a deep rumble, soothed her and she felt herself drifting to sleep. When she woke in the night, momentarily bewildered by the hard ground and rough bedding, he chuckled and comforted her with soft, whispered words.

  “S’okay, Charlotte, you’re safe with me.”

  Chapter Six

  Will

  Charlotte was filled with surprises, he decided as he watched her. They stood atop a tower overlooking the Fort Worth Stockyards. Most people wouldn’t find the filth and dust and constant, frantic mooing of the cattle of any interest, but she took it all in, her pretty eyes filled with wonder.

  “I’ve never seen anything so amazing,” she shouted over the din. “What will happen to the Travis animals?”

  “They’ll be driven North.”

  Her brows lifted in surprise.

  “It’s a long trip for them and they’ll lose weight along the way. When they get to wherever they’re going, they’ll be put out to pasture to fatten up again.”

  Will leaned against the railing. Below them the cattle crowded in pens and pushed against each other to reach the feed troughs. A few fights broke out, but they were short-lived. Most of the animals were too tired to cause much of a fuss. It helped that there weren’t any bulls around to assert dominance.

  “I’d like to take my bride for a nice dinner at the hotel.” He took her hand in his and they descended the steps to the offices below. Cattle men and cowboys filled the rooms, talking cattle prices and rain and land sales, the conversations he usually enjoyed.

  He drove the wagon through the streets of Fort Worth and left it with the hotel’s livery barn. Silas and Mary were staying with Mary’s sister, and the rest of the cowboys would bed down at some flophouse or a whorehouse. He didn’t ask his men questions about what they did in town.

  The doorman greeted him. “Mr. Travis, so nice to see you again. Mrs. Travis, good evening to you.”

  “Evening, Frank. Have dinner sent to the room. Let the chef choose something for my wife and me.”

  Inside the room suite, Charlotte watched him warily. She had packed a small valise and stowed it on the buckboard. It sat in the corner next to his bags. He imagined she might want to wash and change into something clean, but she waited, nervously, as if she needed instructions or permission of some sort.

  “You like the room?” he asked.

  She nodded and pursed her lips.

  “I always stay in this suite. Let me show you what I like best.”

  He beckoned her to the French doors that led to a balcony. Dusk settled, and a few stars twinkled above, but what he wanted to show her was the courtyard below. He led her to the railing and pointed to two fountains on opposite ends of the courtyard. They bubbled and gurgled, the soft sounds somehow drowning out the noise of the busy city around them.

  “It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

  She let out a soft moan and rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m so tired, I could fall asleep standing.”

  “You can have the first bath. I’ll wait.”

  She lifted her gaze to meet his. In the shadows, he couldn’t see her expression well, but he knew she was wary, expecting him to pounce on her.

  “Go on, Charlotte. I’m not going to trouble you. Not tonight.”

  A sound, something between a laugh and a huff, came from her before she turned away. He stayed on the balcony and watched the stars appear one by one in the darkening sky. A knock at the door sometime later drew him inside. Dinner was wheeled in on a service cart and they ate in the quiet of the room.

  “A c
attle drive gives a girl an appetite,” she joked after she finished off her sorbet.

  She wore a light dress, and with her hair down around her shoulders, she looked younger than her years.

  He excused himself and went to the tub in the washroom. It wasn’t big, but it was deep and perfect for a hot soak at the end of a long day. He filled the tub, stripped out of his dust-laden clothes and sank into the water.

  “Part of a cattle drive is scrubbing the lead cowboy’s back.” He called out to her, in a teasing tone. A little playfulness might ease some of her quiet awkwardness.

  She peeked around the door. The room was lit by candles, and her body was silhouetted against the lamplight in the bedroom. He heard her soft laughter.

  “You just made that up, Will.”

  “Actually, it’s part of a wife’s duties. I need my back scrubbed every night. And my hair too. Nothing like a good, hard scrub.”

  She drew closer. “You didn’t scrub my back.”

  Her tone held a slight teasing lilt.

  “Well, damn, you didn’t ask me to, Charlotte. I’d be willing to help with any part of your bath.”

  Kneeling beside the tub, she rolled up her sleeves and took the bar of soap from the dish. “Willing to help?”

  “Probably. You might be a lot of trouble, squirmy and ticklish.”

  Having her near him made blood course through his veins. His cock felt painfully hard. If she leaned forward just a little she might catch sight of what she did to him.

  She rubbed the soap and when she had a good lather, she washed his shoulders. The touch of her hands on his skin made him groan. He leaned forward to give her better access and let his head tip forward.

  “Am I doing all right?” she asked.

  He grunted a response to keep from giving her a rough, uncouth answer.