This was not the gentle lover of the night, the tender husband whose only thought was for her care and pleasure. This man, who touched her knowingly, who lavished hot, wet kisses upon her, who whispered words she had never heard into her ear, was another side of Quinn Yarborough she had not dreamed existed.
He was demanding, willing her response, his hands and fingers agile as he discovered tender flesh that deserved his attention. He was thorough, lifting her legs, murmuring appreciation for the slender length of her calves, brushing his mouth against her knees as he hovered over her.
And then he watched her through narrowed eyes as he brought his male flesh to that place he had so carefully readied for his taking.
Quinn clasped her hands, spreading her fingers with his, joining them together symbolically. He sought and found the softness of her desire, then bent to kiss her, accepting her low cries into his mouth. He filled her, stretched her, became a part of her, and still she was left wanting. There, there…just beyond her grasp.
Erin lifted her hips, twisting, seeking that elusive pleasure. He withdrew slowly, leaving her empty and yearning, and she cried out, only to hear his words in her ear as he surged against her once more.
“Do you need me?” The whisper was rasping, his breathing harsh, and again he retreated, holding her still beneath him, hesitating for moments before he returned to her, slowly filling her with the entire measure of his manhood. “Is this what you want, Erin?” he asked, his words breathless against her hair.
“Yes…yes.” Caught in the whirlwind, she rushed to meet whatever it held in store. She sobbed, writhing against him. Her arms enclosed him, her face buried against his shoulder, her cries of completion urging him in incoherent whimpers. And then he thrust within her a final time, his voice guttural as he called her name in an urgent plea.
“Erin…ah, baby!” He was heavy, pressing her into the mattress, and she gloried in it. He was male, strong, vibrant, and just a bit arrogant. She smiled secretly at that thought. He’d pushed her deliberately, she realized. He’d forced her to face her fears and recognize their absence in this bed they shared.
Quinn’s anger had not frightened her. She had not retreated from his virile male strength, nor had she bowed to his taunts. He’d held her captive and yet, had she feared him, had he sensed panic or horror at his touch, she knew he would have given way. Even in his strength, she recognized the care and concern he lavished upon her.
And now her heart lifted with the knowledge of freedom gained. No longer would the specter of Damian Wentworth haunt her with its memory of cruel deeds and harsh treatment at masculine hands.
“I love you, Quinn.” She’d said the words silently before. Now she lavished them upon him, repeating them as she scattered kisses wherever she could reach. “I love you!” Her whisper was tinged with a sob, and she brushed her tears against his shoulder.
“Don’t cry, baby!” He lifted himself on his elbows, and his hands framed her face. “You know I love you, sweetheart. I can’t stand to cause you pain. Don’t cry.”
“You haven’t. You know you haven’t hurt me, Quinn.” She swept her hands up the length of his back, pressing against his shoulders. “Kiss me…please kiss me.”
He lowered his head, his mouth taking sweeping possession of hers. Bestowing words of praise, Quinn whispered his love against her brow, breathed it against the tender skin of her throat and dropped countless kisses wherever his lips touched.
“I think I loved you first when you held my baby in your hands and breathed into his mouth, Quinn,” she told him, cradling his head against her breast.
“Did you? I’d have given my soul at that moment to bring life to your child, Erin.”
“You’ve done more for me than any other person in my life. I feel inadequate sometimes, as if I have nothing to give in return.”
“Oh, but you have,” he told her.
“You mean…this?” Her hand swept his back, pressing him against her body.
He shook his head. “No, I knew we’d come together in time. But more than that, I wanted your trust. I needed you to trust me enough to love me, and know I’d take care of you. I wanted you to depend on me without wondering if I’d ever turn on you, or use my strength against you.”
“1 know better than that,” she said. “I think I’ve always known.”
“Maybe. I was afraid it would take a while. I probably shouldn’t have pushed you. You know, downstairs and just now.” He closed his eyes and bent his head. “More than anything else, I needed to know you love me, Erin.”
“And now you know.”
He nodded, lifting his eyes to meet her gaze. “Now I know.”
The snow had melted, turning the yard and street into a sea of mud. Only a hard frost had rescued Erin from losing her boots on the way to the emporium this morning.
On her way home Erin stopped at the sheriff’s house, where Robert had stayed during her shopping expedition. Alice smiled, her arms reluctantly turning her charge over to his mother, and Erin then made her way to the small house. She had begun to call it home, settling in nicely, after less than two weeks. Quinn had teased her, accusing her of nesting, like the early bluebirds that perched on the fence every morning.
She put away her supplies, elated at her good fortune, having the general store right at her fingertips. Living in town had a lot to be said for it, with a friendly neighbor just steps away, and Quinn getting involved with the lawmen. A good way to keep his ear to the door, so to speak, he’d told her.
Having him go off every morning made her feel like a real housewife, something she’d never been acquainted with in her life. The switch from pampered lady of the manor to the sole occupant of a primitive mountain cabin had been a shock. Tending house with everything so handy revealed to her daily just how much she had been missing.
“I could get real used to this,” she sang to Robert as she placed him in the small crib Quinn had bought for the baby’s use downstairs. He’d watched her carry the dresser drawer down the stairs and frowned. Within a half hour the crib had replaced the drawer and taken one more chore from Erin’s shoulders.
Robert’s eyes closed and he yawned widely, bringing a thrill of joy to Erin’s breast. “What a sweetheart you turned out to be, you precious lamb,” she crooned, covering him with his quilt
She had bread to mix and set to rise and supper to consider. Quinn had told her not to expect him for dinner at noon, so she’d given him a towel with cheese and crackers wrapped inside to tide him over. For that she’d earned a hearty kiss and a whisper of thanks.
It was well past noon when Erin heard someone stomping their feet on the porch. Sheriff Mason wore a look of solemn concern when he appeared at the kitchen door, and she knew a moment of terror. Something was wrong. As sure as the sun rose every morning, her intuition told her that her bubble of happiness was about to burst.
She should have known that the simple joys of living with Quinn and Robert in this house were too good to last, Erin thought wistfully as she opened the door to the lawman.
“What brings you out this morning?” she asked, mentally crossing her fingers, hoping for the best.
It was not to be.
With a shuffling of feet and much clearing of his throat, Henry Mason entered the kitchen, closing the door behind him. “Afraid I’ve got some news you’re not gonna like to hear, Miz Yarborough,” he muttered. He removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair, looking exceedingly uncomfortable to Erin’s eye.
“You might as well tell me,” she said stoutly, girding herself for whatever might come. If only Quinn.
“There’s a lawyer fella coming from Denver to see you. He’s been hired by some folks from New York City, name of Wentworth. Anybody you know?”
She nodded. “They were my first husband’s parents.”
His brow furrowed. “Thought your name was Peterson. Would have sworn that was what I heard.”
Erin had the grace to blush. “I used that name. I
left New York after my husband died, and I really didn’t want his parents to find me, Sheriff.”
“Looks to me like they went to a lot of trouble, young lady. Is there something else I should know?” His eyes held a challenge she could not refuse.
She lifted her hands in a silent appeal, her throat dry. “I was running from them, and pregnant when I arrived here. With their grandson. They wanted the child, and I didn’t want them to have him. It was as simple as that.”
“So you bought that old miner’s cabin up the mountain and set up housekeeping, all on your own. I wondered what in tarnation you were doin’ there, with winter comin’ on.”
She sat down at the table, her knees feeling as if they might fail her. “No one questioned me a whole lot. I bought provisions at the emporium and supplies at the livery stable for my animals. People were kind.”
“We don’t ask a lot of questions out here. Never know when a person has something to hide, and so long as he’s not breakin’ the law, we kinda like to leave folks to themselves. But, to tell the truth, ma’am, I surely didn’t know you were in the family way when you set off up that mountain, draggin’ that cow and with a box of chickens tied on your packhorse.” He laughed aloud. “You were some sight to behold. I remember thinkin’ you were a spunky lady.”
“Why is the lawyer coming here now?” Erin asked bluntly. Better to know the worst right off, she figured.
“Well, now that I know a little more about things, I begin to understand the issues. He’s talkin’ about taking custody of your child.”
She felt cold fingers of fear slide up her spine, radiating to the tips of her fingers. “What makes him think anyone would have the right to my child?”
Sheriff Mason hung his head and sighed. “I think I better sit down for this, ma’am.” He pulled out a chair and sat across the table from Erin. “It seems they found records in Denver from the hearing here in Pine Creek. Don’t know what they were after, going through things at the courthouse, but the judge’s findings were right there for them to see.”
“What does that have to do with the baby?”
Henry Mason cleared his throat. “It seems the lawyer and the folks who hired him don’t think you’re a good candidate for motherhood, what with you shootin’ that miner a few weeks ago. They’re bringing a piece of paper along that says they’ve been granted custody of their grandson.”
“But Robert isn’t their grandson.” Erin stood up abruptly, sending her chair toppling.
“Yes, ma’am. You and me both know that. It’s only gonna be a matter of time before we clear it all up, I’m sure. I just hate to see you havin’ to face such a thing.”
“Where’s the judge? Will he be here, too?”
Sheriff Mason shook his head. “He won’t be back for another week. We only get him comin’ around once a month. Unless there’s reason for it.”
“Isn’t this reason enough?” Erin asked, pacing to the window and back. Her heart was pumping at a rapid pace, and the need to see Quinn was uppermost in her mind. “Where did you send my husband?” she asked.
“Aw, they had a fuss up at the mining camp. Couple of fellas shootin’ at each other. I pinned a badge on Quinn and told him to bring both men back down. Figured they could cool their heels in jail till next week. Probably both of them will be ready to behave themselves by then.”
“When is this lawyer coming?” She walked to the window again, as if watching for Quinn would bring him home to her more rapidly.
“Might be on the evening stage from Denver,” Henry Mason allowed. “The letter came yesterday, and Tater didn’t pick up the mail from the emporium till this morning.”
From near the stove a fretful cry caught her attention. Erin turned, her footsteps quick as she reached Robert’s side. He was fussing, kicking at his blanket, and, from all signs, more than ready for his midafternoon meal.
“Mama’s here,” Erin crooned, lifting him to her shoulder. She jiggled him in her arms, stilling his impatience, and turned back to the sheriff.
“Do I have to see him?” Beneath her, her legs trembled, as if she had walked a very long way and desperately needed a place to rest. The rocking chair seemed a likely spot and she headed there, aware of a wave of dizziness that brought perspiration to her brow.
“Say, now! You feelin’ all right, ma’am?” Sheriff Mason asked, abruptly rising from his chair. “You look a mite peaked, Miz Yarborough. You’re not comin’ down with something, are you?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ll be better when Quinn gets back.” She rocked Robert in her arms, aware that his whimpering, as he nuzzled at his fist, would soon develop into a full-blown cry for his dinner.
The sheriff nodded, clapping his hat into place, tugging up his trousers by the belt and heading for the door. “I’ll just leave you to it, ma’am. I’ll let you know what’s goin’ on as soon as that lawyer fella shows up.”
Erin nodded, rocking harder. She was trembling, fearful of shedding the tears that were gathering. Just when things were at their best, just when she’d finally found a home and a modicum of security in her life.
With a final nod, the sheriff left, closing the door behind him, and Erin fought the urge to search for the key that would lock it against intruders. Thus far, they had settled for latching the door at night. Now she felt that even this haven was not secured against whatever Ted and Estelle Wentworth had set in motion.
The hotel was brimful to the eaves, what with its usual patrons, and now the occupants of the evening stage taking up residence. Quinn watched from the door, reluctant to track across the lobby with his muddy boots. The sun had come out today, once more turning the streets to a miry mess; even though he’d scraped his boots against the edge of the boardwalk, he was still dragging dirt on his soles.
“Deputy? What can I do for you?” The owner of Pine Creek’s largest establishment bustled to the door where he waited, and Quinn gestured at his feet.
“I spent the best part of the day tramping around in the mining camp. I’m afraid I’m a mess from one end to the other, Mr. Bogart. I’m just wondering if I can buy one of those fancy cakes from the dining room to take home with me tonight.”
Mr. Bogart’s eyes twinkled and he rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Going to surprise the missus, are you? Well, you can’t do better than one of our Devil’s Food Delight double layers, Deputy.”
Quinn stepped inside the lobby, careful to stay on the rug by the door. “I’ll just wait here, if you’ll ask one of your ladies to fetch it for me.”
Mr. Bogart hurried off to the hotel kitchen and Quinn leaned against the door molding, careful not to touch the flocked wallpaper. He was bone weary, what with hauling back two rascals who’d come within inches of killing each other, making the mine owner madder than a wet hen. Wayne Tucker had hated to lose two more workers, but better that, he’d said, than having another mess like the last one.
Home was sounding pretty good to Quinn’s ears about now, and the thought of the woman he’d left there was enough to make him wish Mr. Bogart would step lively and let him be on his way.
At the desk a woman in full regalia, up to and including a fur of some sort wrapped around her neck, was announcing her presence in angry terms. Must not have the fanciest room available, Quinn thought with a grin.
“My dear sir, the name of Wentworth means something in civilized parts of this country.”
It was all he heard, but it was enough to stand him bolt upright, his eyes scanning the couple before the desk.”Damn, if it isn’t Ted and Estelle!” Delivered in an undertone, his exclamation failed to reach the pair, and Quinn was tempted to skin back out the door before he was spotted.
“Here you go, Deputy.” Mr. Bogart approached, carrying a box tied with string. Quinn had hoped to produce some startling results with that cake. Now it had lost its value and he accepted it glumly, after tilting his hat over his eyes.
“Thanks, Mr. Bogart. I’ll stop by and settle up tomorrow.
”
The hotel owner shook his head. “No sirree, you won’t, Deputy. We like to take good care of our lawmen here in Pine Creek This one’s on the house.” He beamed brightly, nodding as Quinn turned to the door.
Casting one last glance at the weary travelers standing by the desk, he ducked out the door and headed home.
Erin was in the kitchen, the table was set and something on the stove smelled like a gift from heaven. Quinn opened the door and offered the cake. “Hold this, honey. I want to take my boots off outside.”
She accepted it with a nod, placing it on the table as he slid his boots off and carried them inside. Her eyes were red rimmed, her mouth pressed in a tight line, and Quinn knew without being told that she was already aware of the proximity of the two people who comprised her worst nightmare. Even the man who had forced her to pull the trigger on the shotgun had not imposed his presence on her dreams as had Ted and Estelle Wentworth.
More often than he wanted to remember over the past weeks, he’d awakened to find Erin tossing and turning in her sleep, muttering and half crying at the demons who filled her nights. He’d held her and cherished her through those times, all the while reviling the Wentworths for what they had done to her fragile emotions.
Now he held out his arms to her and she came to him gladly, fresh tears welling.
“Oh, Quinn! There’s a lawyer here who’s talking about taking custody of Robert. I don’t understand how he thinks he has any right to him, but the sheriff came and told me I’ll have to at least see him in order to clear it up.”
“We’ll see him, honey. You’re not alone in this.” Quinn held her close, rocking her in his arms. “There’s more news, Erin,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms tightly across her back as she jerked against him.
“What? What else?” She was pale, trembling and near collapse.
Quinn sat down in a chair and turned her to sit in his lap. “Ted and Estelle are here, in Pine Creek. I just saw them at the hotel.”
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