Sweetwater Seduction

by Johnston, Joan

“I have to go, Bliss,” Hadley said, leaning down to kiss her gently on the lips.

  Bliss clung to him and when he tried to remove her arms from around his neck said, “I don't want you to leave, Hadley. Stay

  “You know if I don't pick up those supplies in town before dark, my father will have my head. I've got to go.” He hugged her again and touched his lips to hers for what he told himself would be the last time before he got on with his chores. But young love being what it is, it was long moments later before he came to his senses. He was breathing hard, Bliss's dress was unbuttoned, and his sun-browned hands cupped her bare white breasts.

  He jerked his hands away and stepped back. “Lord, Bliss! I don't know how I let myself get carried away like that. It's just that touching you is so sweet . . .”

  He was afraid when she turned away that she might think he blamed her somehow for what had happened. But he was the one who couldn't seem to control himself. He was afraid to touch her even now, for fear he would get carried away again. The little whimpers he heard as she struggled to repair her clothing made his stomach clench.

  “Bliss, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” His voice was ragged as he stepped up behind her and encircled her with his arms, grasping her hands to stop her frantic efforts to button her dress. “It's just that I love you so much. I . . . I don't want to lose control like I did before and . . .”

  He hadn't meant for things to go so far that time. The tears streaking Bliss's pale face afterwards—even though she had said she wanted it as much as he did, and she didn't mind that they hadn't waited until they were married—well, he couldn't handle seeing her look like that again.

  His fear that she was upset by his fervent lovemaking was soothed when she turned around and he saw the way she was looking at him, with her blue eyes soft and loving and dewy. He had to struggle not to drag her back into his arms.

  “You're not the only one wanting,” she admitted, her voice low and trembly. “I feel the same way. When you touch me I . . . I forget myself. I don't want you ever to stop!”

  He pulled her into his arms after all and hugged her tight, his throat working as he tried to tell her how much it meant to hear what she was saying. But the words got stuck there, so he just felt them and hoped she would understand without his saying them back.

  Bliss kept her head tucked into his shoulder so he couldn't see her face when she confessed, “I know it's supposed to be wrong to want you like this.”

  Hadley's arms tightened around her.

  “But how can it be wrong when it feels so right?” she finished in an aching whisper.

  Hadley didn't have an answer for her. He felt the same way. But he was stunned by what she said next.

  “Let's run away, Hadley.”

  Hadley took Bliss by the shoulders and forced her to step back to face him. He looked deep into he blue eyes and said soberly, “I don't want to run away, Bliss. I want to stay here in Sweetwater and get married and raise our kids. My father's ranch will be mine someday. I already love the Solid Diamond like it was my own.”

  “Your father is never going to let us get married, Hadley. Neither is mine. You know it and I know it.”

  Hadley pulled Bliss back into his embrace, rocking her back and forth as he reassured her, “We'll be married, Bliss. When the time is right I'll talk to your father and mine and they'll see reason.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Soon,” Hadley promised. He pushed her away from him again and with a rueful smile finished buttoning up her dress. “It's time for you to get home and me to get on with my chores.”

  “Will you be coming to see me tonight, Hadley?” she asked, stepping toward him.

  Hadley felt himself getting hard again just looking at her. He wasn't sure if it was the trusting look in her eyes or the soft brush of her belly against his that made up his mind for him, but there was no way he could deny her.

  He made up his mind then and there that he wasn't going to let himself lose control again. She deserved better from him. He would share the touching caresses they both wanted, and kiss her silly in the bargain, but that was as far as it would go until they were married. If he was man enough to want her, he had to be man enough to do what was best for her without thinking about himself.

  “All right, Bliss,” he agreed. “I'll come an hour after dark. Meet me in the usual place?”

  Bliss smiled and Hadley felt his heart begin to pound. “I'll be there, Hadley. I love you.” With that, she turned and ran down the footpath leading to her home.

  Hadley mounted his horse and raced toward the Solid Diamond to get the freight wagon he needed to pick up supplies in town. An hour later he was whistling as he pulled the team to a stop in front of the general store in Sweetwater. He saw Big Ben Davis the instant he entered the store. Bliss's father would have been hard to miss.

  Hadley was easily as tall as Big Ben, but he was lean and lanky where Big Ben had a barrel chest and heavy thighs that were the result of years spent behind a plow. Hadley had often wondered how Bliss could be so beautiful when he compared her delicate oval face with its pert nose and bowed lips to her father's square jaw and blunt features. He supposed all those hours in the sun were the cause of Big Ben's craggy face. Bliss, he knew, was never without a bonnet to protect her complexion. Looking at Big Ben's gray-streaked brown hair, he marveled at Bliss's golden chestnut curls, which had been soft and silky in his hands the afternoon he made her his own.

  Thinking of Bliss that way in her father's presence made Hadley uncomfortable, and he blurted a greeting to cover his distress. “Hello, Mr. Davis. How are you tod

  “What the hell does it matter to you how I am?” Big Ben replied.

  Hadley forced himself to meet Big Ben's glare and cleared his throat to make sure he would have a voice to say, “Your daughter Bliss and I are good friends, Mr. Davis. I just wanted—”

  “Nesters and ranchers can't be friends.”

  “But Bliss and I—”

  Big Ben grabbed a fistful of Hadley's plaid wool shirt and pulled him close enough that Hadley could smell the licorice on the farmer's breath when he ranted, “You stay away from my daughter!”

  When Big Ben let go, Hadley stumbled against a counter, and a wire potato masher, a fruit jar cover wrench, and a tinned kitchen skimmer all clattered to the wooden floor.

  A nester standing near the register guffawed.

  Hadley lost both his temper and his good sense. “I'll see Bliss whenever I please,” he shouted. “And you can't stop me!”

  “Oh, I'll stop you, boy. You set one foot on my place and I'll shoot you dead!”

  In a small town like Sweetwater any kind of altercation could be expected to draw an audience. A gathering of both cowboys and nesters was on hand to hear the threats being aimed at Oak Westbrook's nearly grown boy by Big Ben Davis. It wasn't really clear whether it was a cowboy or a nester who threw the first punch. The only thing Hadley knew for sure was that it hadn't been either him or Big Ben.

  By the time Sheriff Felton Reeves arrived on the scene, followed by Deputy Joe, who stayed carefully behind him, the rowdy free-for-all had spilled out of Tomlinson's General Store and into the street. Sheriff Reeves pulled out his Colt Peacemaker .45 and shot once into the air, freezing everyone in place. He took advantage of the moment of quiet to announce, “Anybody who ain't gone from here in one minute flat is going to spend the night in jail.”

  Sheriff Reeves was a big, blond-haired, blue-eyed man, with a friendly-looking face and a deadly aim. After two years with Reeves as the sheriff of Sweetwater, nester and cowboy alike had learned to respect his word. The crowd quickly began to disperse.

  Big Ben Davis made a point of confronting Hadley one more time. The farmer wiped his bloody mouth with the b
ack of his hand and said, “Just you remember what I said. You come near my girl and I'll kill you!”

  It wasn't until he was halfway home that Hadley realized he hadn't picked up the supplies he had gone to town for. He started to turn around, but realized that his father's anger could hardly be worse than another scene with Ben Davis, so he kept on driving.

  When he got home, he found horses tied up in front of the house that he knew from their bs belonged to Rusty Falkner, Cyrus Wyatt, and six other ranchers from surrounding spreads.

  When Hadley walked in the front door, his mother took one look at his swollen face—he had a beauty of a black eye—and tried to haul him off to the kitchen in search of some steak to take down the swelling.

  Hadley resisted her entreaties. “Where's Dad?” he demanded.

  “He's in the middle of a meeting of the Sweetwater Stock Growers Association.”

  Hadley stared at the closed door of his father's study and frowned. “Have they heard what happened in town?”

  “Your father got word of it a few minutes ago from one of the hands who was there and saw the fracas. A brawl, Hadley! In the middle of town. And over that Davis girl. How could you?”

  “Her name is Bliss, Mother. And I didn't start it.”

  “That hardly matters under the circumstances. I'm sure your father is making arrangements right now to ensure the same thing won't be happening in the future.”

  “What do you mean? He's not going to do anything to Ben Davis is he?”

  “Well . . . I . . . I'm sure I don't know about that.”

  Hadley feared the worst from what his mother hadn't said. He already had a hand on the door to his father's study before his mother realized what he intended to do. “You can't go in there, Hadley. Your father—”

  Hadley stepped inside the room that served as a combination library, music room, and office for his father, shutting the door in his mother's face.

  Oak looked up at his son from behind his rolltop desk, and after perusing the damage to Hadley's face said, “Sit down, Hadley. You've certainly earned the right to hear what we're planning.”

  Hadley edged over to the corner and sat down on the upright piano bench in time to hear Cyrus Wyatt say, “When does he arrive?”

  “I don't know, exactly,” Oak replied. “His telegram said he'd get here as quick as he could. I'd say by the end of this week, or the beginning of next, the troubleshooter we hired should be here.”

  “Troubleshooter? What's that?” Hadley's question was met by grim looks on the faces around the room.

  Finally, Oak replied, “Just what you think it is, son.”

  “A hired gun?”

  “One of the best,” Oak said. “Maybe the best,” he ame

  “Why do we need a gunfighter?” Hadley demanded.

  “He's not just a hired gun,” Oak explained. “He's a troubleshooter—someone who comes in to solve problems of any and every kind. We're hoping he can find out who's been rustling our cattle.”

  “And who's been cutting fences and laying the blame at our door,” Cyrus Wyatt added.

  “And if need be,” Rusty Falkner said, “he can handle any other problems that crop up.”

  Hadley flushed as the men in the room stared at his battered face. “Ben Davis didn't start the fight.”

  “It doesn't matter who started it,” Oak said, his teeth clamping on his cigar. “I heard about the threat Ben Davis made against you, and I heard why he made it. It's time Big Ben learned a few hard lessons.”

  Hadley rose abruptly from his seat. “I think you're making a mistake, Dad.”

  “Because you find a nester girl easy on the eyes, son, is no reason—”

  “Don't talk about Bliss that way!”

  “Look, son, maybe you'd better go let your mother take a look at those cuts on your face.”

  Hadley stood there, sickeningly aware of his inability to stop the events his father had set in motion. He had to see Bliss. He wasn't sure exactly what he would say to her, exactly what they could do. But he knew in that instant that he had to get to her and hold her in his arms.

  He turned and bolted from the room. Hadley was running by the time he hit the front porch, not stopping to answer when his mother called out to him. By the time he found his horse in the barn and saddled him, it was dusk. All he could think about was what would happen if the troubleshooter his father had hired ended up killing Big Ben Davis. Would Bliss still love him then? Would she still marry him? He had to find out.

  Hadley was so absorbed in his thoughts that he paid little attention to the night sounds around him as his horse made its way across the dusky landscape. It seemed forever before he arrived at the gate leading to Big Ben Davis's farm and reached out to free the latch. He glanced off toward the cottonwoods where Bliss usually had a warm blanket spread and waiting for him. They would wrap themselves up in it and hold each other close, shutting out the rest of the world.

  Sometimes they talked about the uncertain future that lay before them. Sometimes they would stare at the sky and wonder if there were other beings out there somewhere among the stars. Eventually, they always turned to each other, and the passion that rose between them would leave them breathless and aching.

  As he freed the gate, Hadley heard the distinct lever action of a Winchester r being cocked. He thought instantly of Big Ben's threat. He hadn't believed Bliss's father would really kill him, but apparently he had been wrong. Hadley knew he was an easy target outlined by the setting sun, but he tried to save himself anyway.

  Luck wasn't with him.

  Before he had even freed his boots from the stirrups, Hadley heard the sharp crack of the Winchester and felt a shocking jolt in his chest. In a reflex action his spurs dug into his horse's belly and the animal reared. Hadley lost his balance and, unable to hang on, tumbled to the ground in an undignified heap.

  Hadley couldn't tell how bad he was hurt, but he was having trouble moving, and that scared him. He was bleeding pretty bad too. The whistling wind chilled him where blood quickly soaked his shirt. The sharp rock under his left buttock was killing him. He tried to get up, but his arms were as limp as a well-used rope.

  That was when he realized that whoever had shot him—he refused to believe it was Bliss's father, although he could think of no other likely suspect—might come around to finish the job. And that really scared him.

  But no one came.

  That was when he figured the bushwhacker planned to let him bleed to death. It wouldn't take long if he kept on bleeding like a stuck hog.

  He wondered what Bliss would think when he didn't show up. She would probably think he had decided not to tempt fate. He wondered, as he drifted into unconsciousness, who would console her at his funeral . . . if his father let her come . . . if her father let her go . . .

  Chapter 2

  Too little temptation can lead to virtue.

  BLISS DAVIS HAD ONE DRIVING THOUGHT, AND THAT was to reach Miss Devlin. Everything had gone so wrong! Hadley had been shot practically on her doorstep last night, and she didn't know whether he would live or die. He had been taken home to the Solid Diamond, so she couldn't even be near him.

  Sheriff Reeves had come to the farm today with Deputy Joe and arrested her father. Everyone had heard Big Ben's warning to Hadley in the general store yesterday and figured he had simply carried out his threat. Bliss didn't deny her father's temper, but she knew from experience he was more bark than bite. She simply couldn't imagine her father shooting anyone!

  It was Saturday, and with all the chores she had to do with her mother, there hadn't been a chance for her to slip away. Once everyone had gone to bed, she had sneaked out of the house and started at a fast walk along the path toward school. She needed to talk to Mis
s Devlin. Miss Devlin would know what she should do.

  Bliss was so absorbed by her woes, she didn't hear anyone approaching until she was practically surrounded by cowbo. She recognized the brands on their horses. They were from the Solid Diamond. Anxious for news of Hadley, she approached one of them. “I'm Bliss Davis. Please, have you heard anything about how Hadley is doing? Is he going to be all right?”

  The Solid Diamond hands had been drinking in town at the Dog's Hind Leg Saloon. Ordinarily they would have shunned any cowpoke who even spoke a disrespectful word to a lady. But talk about the cold-blooded ambush of Oak Westbrook's son had inflamed already high tempers and put them in an ugly mood.

  “That's her, fellas. The nester bitch whose father shot the boss's boy.”