Every Blue Moon

by Hildie McQueen

  The minutes passed. He couldn’t venture to guess how many. Their chests heaved from the exertion and Bronson refused to release her, holding her against him, still pressing kisses to her face and shoulders while she held on to him as if afraid to let him go.

  The fire was waning and he felt her shiver against him. Bronson got up and placed a log into the fire, then lifted her from the floor and carried her to the bed.

  The beauty lay on the pillow, her kiss-swollen lips and half closed eyes an enticing picture he’d never forget. “May I join you?” He had to ask, not sure how she felt about sharing a bed for the night.

  “Let’s not think tonight. I don’t want to think.” She held out her arms and it was all the invitation he needed. He joined her in the bed and immediately their mouths met again.

  An hour later her breathing became even as she slept finally. Her head was pillowed by his shoulder and her arm was thrown across his waist. He couldn’t help but picture this as his future. A permanent event night after night.

  Yes, it would be good.

  And yet, too good to be true.

  He hated to think what morning would bring. Of course, he’d marry her and take responsibility for his actions. They’d have to face Matt together. Perhaps he’d be understanding or, on the other hand, react violently, as he would have if the situation were reversed, and tackle him to the ground. Either was the man’s right, of course. And Bronson would allow him the first hit.

  Olivia snuggled closer and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

  Then again, there was always the possibility that she’d turn down his offer and ask him to forget the night ever happened. After all, that had been his luck lately, to want women who were not free to love him in return.

  He wasn’t in love with Olivia, not yet. But it would be easy to do.

  Her skin under his fingertips was silky to his touch and Bronson inhaled her soft scent intermixed with the scents of their lovemaking. God, what was he was going to do if she refused him?

  Could he take the thought of her married to someone else? Especially now, after having been her first lover?

  Suddenly, he thought of Laura Foster. What would happen if he found her? If he did see Laura again, would the attraction still remain? After all, he’d thought of nothing else the last few months other than of finding her.

  But now, after the moments with Olivia, it was best he forget the other woman. This lady who now lay in his arms was his. His.

  Sleep would not come to him this night. He had too much to consider.

  Chapter Eight

  Olivia woke with a start. Memories of the night before flooded her and she groaned and burrowed her face into the pillow. She didn’t want to know where Bronson was. She didn’t want to face the day. The many consequences for her actions lined up one by one to grab her attention. God, how could she have allowed her passions to rule common sense?

  Instinctively she knew the bed was empty except for her. No doubt Bronson was as far from her as he could be while still in the same room. Not that she expected to wake up in his arms. But the comfort would have been affirmation that he too felt responsible. Or maybe by removing himself from the bed he did just that. Confirmed they’d made a huge mistake.

  She sat up ensuring to hold the blankets across her chest. Bronson stood fully dressed by the fireplace with his back to her. Scanning his broad back that tapered to a trim waist, a vivid recollection of his well-formed body bereft of clothing assailed her.

  Her chemise was at the foot of the bed within reach. He’d also placed her dress across the back of a chair folded neatly. She grabbed the chemise and tugged it over her head. Thankfully, the room was warm since he’d added wood to the fireplace.

  “Bronson.” She slipped to bare feet and went toward the kitchen allowing distance between them.

  He tensed and lifted his head to her. The astonishing blue of his eyes commanded her attention. She’d never seen eyes as beautiful as the Cole twins’. His lips pressed together, he held an expression with a mixture of expectation and dread. Bronson swallowed visibly, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. “We should talk.”

  Not the words she thought to hear after her first experience at lovemaking. She’d always expected to wake up in her husband’s arms. Wrapped with him in the safety of love, warmth and security. Now she almost wanted to cry at her stupidity. And looking at Bronson, he looked not much happier than she did.

  “Of course.” She placed a kettle of water over the fire to make coffee and sat at the table.

  He joined her. It was not lost on her how handsome he was with his disheveled hair and beard stubble. It was a struggle, but she managed to keep her breathing under control.

  Bronson cleared his throat. “I will go with you to talk to Matt. Then we’ll have to speak to your parents, of course. I’ll ask your father for your hand in marriage.”

  Not what she expected, she studied his solemn face. Not trusting what to say she remained silent.

  Bronson frowned, then continued. “We can’t wait too long in case of…well, you know consequences.”

  “Oh!” Olivia jumped to her feet and went to the kettle. She proceeded to pour coffee for both of them. A child. Why had it not occurred to her? Now she wanted to run back to the bed, climb in and cover her head with the blankets and hide forever. Childish, yes, but it did not stop her from looking longingly toward the bed.

  She sat back down and placed her hand over his much larger one. “I will break things off with Matt. He deserves better. I’m not sure about the rest. Bronson, I don’t want you to marry me out of obligation.”

  A soft smile curved his lips. “It’s not that much of a sacrifice.” His eyes slid to the bed and Olivia blushed.

  “I will know soon if I’m with child. If that’s the case then we will get married. But if I’m not, then I will not expect it from you. We are both adults and what happened, although perhaps not the best of ideas, was beautiful. I don’t want to tarnish it with expectations and us rushing to marry out of obligation.”

  “You don’t want to marry me.” He stood to his full height and peered down at her. The unreadable expression frustrated her. “Of course. You’re in love with Matt. I understand.” Bronson went to the front door put his shoulder into it and shoved it open to waist high snow. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

  “What now? Is he angry or relieved?” Olivia asked the door then jerked her skirt and blouse from the back of the chair and dressed. She then sat and ran her fingers through the tangles of her blonde hair and braided it. Once that was completed, she poured warmed water into a basin and washed her face and throat. She cleaned up the kitchen area and wondered how they’d spend the rest of the day.

  Bronson was either upset with her or relieved. She wasn’t sure which. She didn’t know him well enough to read his expressions. There was not much she could do except wait for him to come back inside. What a mess they’d gotten themselves into and, by the looks of it, they were trapped for at least another day. It had stopped snowing, the sun shined brightly, but it would be at least another twenty-four hours before the snow melted enough for someone to make it out to them.

  The bed made, Olivia ran out of things to do. She poured another cup of coffee and opened the book she had begun the day before. She wondered how Bronson could stand being outside for so long without a coat. Perhaps the sun warmed enough to make it bearable.

  Finally, the door opened and he came back in. He scanned the tidy room and then looked to her. “I would have helped you.”

  The comment made her want to smile. “Uh huh. How about you figure out what we can eat.”

  “I walked a bit, didn’t see anything remotely edible.” He went to the shelves in the kitchen and scowled at the pitiful few items, his hands on his hips. “Josiah must not stay here often.”

  He began pulling items from the shelves and placing them in a cast iron pot. Olivia raised a brow when he poured coffee into i
t. It would certainly be an interesting concoction. She remained quiet, pretending to read while he worked. After a few minutes, he began to hum and she slid a glance towards him from under her lashes.

  Knife in hand, he sliced a withered onion, head bent in concentration. A stray lock fell forward across his brow, enticing someone to sweep it back. He must have felt her perusal because he looked toward her. She feigned disinterest but when their eyes locked, her traitorous stomach pitched.

  “It’s gonna be good.” He lifted his eyebrows then gave her a firm nod. Bronson’s mood had lightened considerable. Obviously, he was not the type to brood for long.

  Olivia took a deep breath. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall hard for the man.

  The connection after giving herself to Bronson pulled at her, to see him with new eyes. Although she’d always found him overwhelmingly attractive, she’d never allowed herself to think of any of the Cole brothers on a more personal level. The most striking of the brothers, Grayson, never appealed to her because he was such a rogue. The tall and muscular Ashley’s dark and gloomy personality always made her feel awkward. It was Bronson who she’d always been the most at ease with. Although incredibly attractive, he managed to be self-assured without coming across as arrogant.

  She wondered why he remained single. Of the brothers, she always expected he’d be the one to marry first. Especially after Grayson’s first wife died so tragically years ago and he’d thrown himself wholeheartedly into womanizing. Perhaps Bronson preferred to be single.

  “Why have you not married?”

  His body tightened, his shoulders lifted and lowered. A muscle on the side of his jaw flexed. “Not lucky in that department.” Although he said the words with a careless shrug, she sensed something simmered beneath the casual tone.

  Then it occurred to her. He was in love with someone. Perhaps someone unattainable. Jealousy surged, taking her by surprise. She had no rights to him after all.

  “You never know. It may just work out for you.” She wasn’t sure she made any sense. At the moment, all she could think about was that the cabin was too small and she needed to get away. Damn the snowstorm.

  “We should get married. I am not just askin’ out of obligation,” he told her with a serious expression. “Why do you insist we wait?”

  Because she wanted him to tell her he was attracted to her. Because she needed to know he wasn’t just being honorable. “You would not have asked if we’d not been together.”

  A frown doubled with his lips twisted to one side. It gave him a boyish look. “Well, no, I wouldn’t have since we’ve never had the chance to get to know each other. But I did consider asking you out once.”

  “No you didn’t.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why didn’t you?”

  Once again he shrugged.

  Chapter Nine

  Everything he’d planned to say refused to budge. How he planned to assure Olivia that he expected to marry her and fulfill his obligations had fallen flat.

  Those intelligent, beautiful eyes of hers leveled his mind numb. He’d not been able to convey to her how much he actually wanted to be with her. Instead, the damn fear tightened his chest until he thought he’d pass out from the inability to breathe.

  When he tried to convince her he’d take responsibility, she did not accept, but instead remained cool and aloof at the prospect of being tied to him. Of course he should have expected it.

  In all probability, she was heartbroken after failing Matt. Now she faced the possibility of being married to him if their actions had consequences.

  He was thankful for the preoccupation of cooking. Bronson overdid each action, placing dried beans, onion, some garlic and bits of dried meat into the pot. He added the coffee and water then began to cut up small potatoes he’d washed. Cowboy stew was something they often made while on the cattle trail. Once finished, he placed the pot on the hook over the fire and covered it.

  Olivia stood by the window looking outside. He studied her at leisure. Not tall, but of average height, she had a quiet elegance about her. Her dainty appearance was misleading. She was a strong woman, as a physician she had to be. Always kept calm when in alarming situations. The times he’d been around during which she’d handled wounds and other situations, her control was admirable.

  This had to be one of those times. In all probability, her mind was evaluating everything they faced. Her face was turned from him, but he knew every inch of it. How her blue eyes lightened when he kissed her and darkened when he took possession of her. Her full lips parted allowing her husky moans to escape. The soft roundness of her jawline to her long, elegant neck…he cleared his throat. “It will be a while before it’s ready.”

  She turned to him and her eyes flickered from him to the pot over the fire. “Would you like to play a game?”

  It was then he noticed a deck of cards in her hand. “Sure.”

  They passed the time playing whist. After a few minutes, he relaxed, concentrating on his cards instead of the situation. Olivia let out a sigh when he won another hand. “I forgot you like mathematics.”

  “That has nothing to do with my ability to beat you.” It felt good to kid with her.

  “Hmm. I am usually a good player. I think you’re cheating.” Olivia’s brow pinched as she studied her cards. “Do you think they may come find us today?” Her eyes lifted to his for a second before returning to her cards.

  “I doubt it.” Bronson placed a card down. “Don’t try to distract me. It won’t work.” Her laughter lifted the weight in his chest and he grinned in return. “There you go trying to do it again.”

  Her eyes twinkled when she placed her card over his. “I don’t need to distract you to win.”

  Olivia continued. “What does your family do during the winter to while away the hours?” she asked and glanced toward the window.

  “Pretty much what we’re doing now. When we were younger, Pa taught us boys to play the guitar. We had some good times when the four of us played together. Ma doesn’t play, but she has a good singing voice. So she’d sing along.”

  Olivia nodded. “It sounds enjoyable. You are fortunate to have siblings. I only have one sister and she is much older. She married and moved east when I was ten.”

  “Sarah correct?” He was enjoying their conversation, but wondered if she purposely kept it safely away from what they had to face once they left the cabin.

  “Yes, Sarah. I saw her not too long ago when I went to New York to attend medical school. But I didn’t live with her. She and her husband have three children and I found it impossible to study there.”

  The enticing smell from the pot got his attention and he checked on their meal. The beans were softening, but required more water. Bronson went to the doorway and filled a bucket with snow and poured it into the pot.

  Olivia watched him intently. Awkward under her scrutiny, he pointed to the pot. “It will be ready in another few minutes.”

  “I’m surprised to say this, but it smells delicious.” Her lips curved at him and Bronson felt a pitch in his stomach. Olivia was an exquisite woman who he never dreamed of getting to know. As the doctor’s daughter, he always considered her beyond his reach.

  Evening came and he found himself sitting in front of the fireplace. The shadows fell over the space. It was quiet, Olivia read next to him and he whittled a stick. He enjoyed the picture of her at ease next to him relaxing with a book. It could be his life if she were to be his wife.

  “I’m willing to bet your brothers will be here tomorrow.” She looked over to him.

  “We’ll escort you home,” he replied his eyes on the fire. “Once the snow melts, we can go speak to Matt.”

  “I prefer to speak to him alone.” Olivia placed her hand on his shoulder. “I am not going to tell him what happened between us. I will just tell him I am not interested in pursuing our relationship any longer.”

  Bronson wasn’t sure how he felt about the omission. But he wanted to allow her the free
dom to handle it how she felt best. “What about us? I will not walk away and pretend nothing happened. I stand by my word to marry you.”

  She inhaled then surprised him by laying her head on his shoulder. “Let’s take it one step at a time.”

  “What do you mean, Olivia?” For some reason, her lack of acceptance angered him. “If there is no child, then you want to walk away and ignore what happened between us?”

  “No…that’s not what I meant.” She lifted her head and pressed her lips together. “I don’t want to do anything by force. I want us to be sure.”

  “Sure of what?” Bronson stood and stalked to the fireplace jamming his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Just say you prefer not to marry me. Be honest with me.”

  “Don’t get mad at me.” Olivia got to her feet and glared at him. “I am not going to swoon at your feet in gratitude for offering to marry me because of a stupid mistake.”

  “Of course. Why would the high and mighty Olivia Dougherty be grateful for a cowboy like me offering anything?”

  “You know I am not like that. For goodness sakes, I am in a relationship with Matthew Corson. He’s also a rancher.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Just that.” They were both slightly bent at the waist facing off like prizefighters. “I am not ready to jump from one relationship to another because…”

  “Yeah, I know. Because of a stupid mistake.”

  “I don’t understand why you are angry.”

  “You know what?” Bronson let out a breath and lowered his shoulders. “You’re right. We’ll wait. When and if you make a decision, let me know.”

  “Fine.”

  “Perfect. Just perfect.” He went to the bed and grabbed a blanket and pillow. “I’ll sleep on the floor by the fire. You can do whatever you want.”

  “Bronson, don’t be childish. It’s not that I’m not grateful that you accept responsibility for your part. It’s just that…”

  “I don’t want to talk about it any longer.” He threw the blanket on the floor and went to the window to look out into the darkness. Not wanting her to see he was not angry but, once again, heart broken. Not that he was in love with Olivia. It was too soon for that. What hurt was that, once again, he was rejected.