Wild Western Women Ride Again: Western Historical Romance Boxed Set

by Kirsten Osbourne

  He moved away before he took it any further. If he didn’t return to his bed in the barn right now, he never would. With the pull of the war tugging at him, he’d no right to make her his.

  Daniel gazed into her passion filled eyes, a feeling of satisfaction washing over him. She would be his one day, of that he was sure. They’d passed a milestone this afternoon when she’d hidden him and then faced the Union soldiers. There was no going back.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.” He whispered against her ear, and then tasted her sweet lips once more in a light kiss.

  Chapter Six

  Early April, 1865

  “I can’t believe poor Hans is gone, and I wasn’t here to comfort you.” Susan McDonough clutched Rosemarie’s hand, sorrow etched on her full face.

  “I’m doing okay.” Rosemarie attempted to pull her hand free from her neighbor’s, who had descended on her with her husband, Jacob, and their four children.

  Never too fond of Susan, who had a curiosity beyond polite, along with a well-developed propensity to gossip, Rosemarie had invited them into the house against her better judgment. Daniel was working in the barn, and the minute he appeared, Susan would pounce on him like a lion.

  “Here Jacob and I hoped to ask Hans to help with our barn raising.” She stopped as she reached the small table in the kitchen, surprise lighting her eyes. “Why, I’m sure you didn’t even know the Rebels burned our barn down, now did you?”

  “No, I didn’t know that.” Good manners required she offer them at least a cup of tea, when all she wanted to do was send them on their way. “Would you care for some tea? I have sweet biscuits left from breakfast.”

  Susan settled her large bottom into the kitchen chair, all set for a lengthy visit. “Why that would be wonderful, Rosemarie. It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”

  You mean since you pried information out of me.

  “Maybe while we’re here, Jacob can do some chores for you. I’m sure you’re havin’ a hard time since Hans passed.”

  As usual, Jacob sat, not saying anything, letting his wife prattle on. It amazed Rosemarie how he put up with it.

  “Mama, Mr. a’Coy sent me to fetch some water.” Amelia rushed into the kitchen, one of Susan’s girls following in her wake.

  Susan turned to Rosemarie, her eyebrows raised. “Who?”

  “Mr. McCoy. He, ah, is the hand I hired to help out for a while.”

  “Really?” Susan turned to Jacob and nudged him in the elbow. “You better go see this Mr. McCoy, make sure he’s not a criminal.”

  “No.” Rosemarie snapped. “Sorry.” She turned to Jacob. “There’s no need to trouble yourself, Jacob, he’s been here for a while now, sleeping in the barn, and won’t be much longer. He just needed some work, and then he’ll be on his way.”

  Jacob glanced at his wife. One look at her glare and he rose. “No problem, Miz Wilson. It would be a good thing to take a look at the man.” He slapped his hat on his head and left the house.

  “Really, Rosemarie, how could you allow a strange man to stay in your barn? And with three children? Why, he could be a murderer. Or worse.” She touched Rosemarie’s hand to stop her from arranging biscuits on a blue and white flowered plate and leaned in close. “You know,” she whispered, “I had a visit from some soldiers a while back who were looking for a very dangerous Rebel who escaped from prison!”

  Rosemarie’s heart thudded. Although no longer in a Confederate uniform, once Daniel opened his mouth, Jacob would know he was southern. She’d had another visit herself from Captain Nelson and his men, and got the distinct impression he knew Daniel was here. Luckily, Daniel had been away from the farm hunting, with the horse he’d stolen. The way things stood, he’d have to leave soon for his own safety.

  Susan prattled on for well over an hour while Rosemarie kept her ear cocked, waiting for Jacob to rush in and announce that the Wilson farm harbored an escaped Confederate prisoner. No matter how much she strained, all she heard was the laughter and excited shouts of her children playing with the McDonough kids.

  “Well, land sakes, I don’t know where Jacob has gotten himself off too, but I have to get home and start my supper.” Susan stood, shaking out her skirts. The two women walked to the front door, Rosemarie with visions of Jacob tied up in the barn and Daniel miles away. Even though she knew that day would arrive, and most likely very soon, the thought of him leaving caused a knot to settle low in her belly.

  Ever since the night more than a week ago, when he’d returned and kissed her with a passion she’d never felt before, things between them had shifted. After his last kiss, he’d pulled away from her, ran his knuckles down her cheek, and left the room. The longing in her body kept her awake most of that night. She’d been embarrassed to admit to herself she wanted more. More of his kiss, more of his tender touch.

  The next morning, she took extra pains with her hair, made sure she wore a clean apron. Then she laughed at herself. What was she doing? Daniel was an escaped Confederate soldier with a life to return to, if he wasn’t re-captured first. She was a plain, work-worn, mother of three children. Obviously, nine years with Hans had left her aching for tenderness and caring. But this was not the man, nor the time, to imagine she’d found it.

  But one glance at Daniel when he’d arrived at her bedroom door the next morning to help her into the kitchen wreaked havoc with her emotions. His warm smile and strong arms as he scooped her up and carried her down the hallway, had her heart thumping again.

  More than once she’d caught hunger in his eyes, right before he shifted his gaze away. If it hadn’t been for the distraction of the children, and the exhaustion of trying to work while her leg healed, she feared she would have done something foolish. Daniel was a hunted man, and it would serve her well to remember that.

  No longer using the walking stick, Rosemarie hobbled to the front door. A sense of relief swept over her as Jacob and Daniel made their way from the barn to the house. She and Susan joined them as they reached the bottom of the porch steps.

  “Seems like your man here has things under control,” Jacob said as he slapped Daniel on the back. “The barn’s clean, the wood’s piled up, and it looks like he’s gettin’ your garden ready for plantin’ in a few weeks.”

  “Where are you from?” Susan peered at Daniel, her eyes narrowed.

  Jacob chuckled. “Won’t do you no good to ask him questions, Susan. The man can’t talk. He’s been doing some kind of sign language thing with me, but I figured out what he was sayin’.”

  Rosemarie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

  Can’t talk? Doing sign language?

  “Well, I declare. I never met anyone who did the sign language thing.” Susan turned to Rosemarie . “How do you manage to get him to work?”

  Rosemarie kept her gaze from Daniel, knowing she’d burst out laughing if she looked at him. “It’s not hard, actually, I just sort of point to things, and he knows what to do.”

  Daniel gave the woman a small salute, and turned toward the barn. Susan followed him with her eyes. “I don’t know that I could be around someone who didn’t talk.”

  “No worry, you would do enough talking for the both of you.” Jacob turned and shouted for his children, who raced around the yard, chasing Missy, Amelia’s barn cat.

  “No, David, leave my kitty alone.” Amelia ran after the ten-year-old boy, her arms outstretched.

  Daniel stopped and squatted. The cat ran to him, and he gathered her to his chest. He glared at David as he handed the cat to Amelia and ruffled her hair.

  “Well, your children certainly seem comfortable. Him being a stranger, and all. But I would be careful if I were you, Rosemarie. You just never know. You don’t want to wake up one morning dead.” Susan sniffed and headed to the wagon where four children scrambled up, pushing and shoving each other.

  

  Within a few days, Rosemarie could hobble around well enough to do some chores. Daniel did quite a bit
of hunting, skinned rabbits and deer, cut the larger animals into chunks, and stored them in the smokehouse.

  With the help of the two younger children, Rosemarie managed to do laundry. Daniel set up the tubs for her in the mudroom, heated the water, and carried it. The children gathered all the dirty clothes while Rosemarie sat and washed and rinsed them. Then Daniel hung them on the clotheslines Hans had strung up years ago, joking with Chandler about how important it was for men to do women’s work when they were needed. Somehow, she couldn’t picture Hans doing laundry, no matter how far behind she got.

  Daniel took Chandler hunting with him, and her son stood tall when they returned with two rabbits that he’d shot. “I told you I could take care of ya, Ma.”

  “Yes, I see that.” She held back her laughter, enjoying the moment with Daniel as he smiled behind Chandler’s back at the boy’s pride.

  Now that they had plenty of meat, supper was the time Rosemarie enjoyed the most. Once chores were done and Daniel and the children were washed up, they all hurried to the table, hankering for food.

  The early spring sun dipped behind the barn, casting the yard and small house in dusky shadows. It had been another long day, but Rosemarie was happy with her accomplishments. Each day she grew stronger, and as thankful as she was for her health, the niggling thought in the back of her mind that Daniel would soon leave them, dampened her spirits.

  “Can I help you finish up?” Daniel stood at her back, watching her ladle stew into a bowl. His nearness, and the smell of the soap he’d used to wash up, wafted over her. Her stomach did funny little jiggles every time he came near.

  “If you want to pour milk for the children, that would help.” She took a deep breath as he moved away. Rosemarie chided herself. This was crazy; she was an older, widowed mother of three. There was no place in her life for these feelings. Lt. McCoy had merely helped them over a rough spot, and soon he would be on his way.

  Since when is he Lt. McCoy?

  After placing the large bowl of stew in the center of the table, Rosemarie returned with the loaf of fresh baked bread and butter from the cold pantry. Daniel poured the milk for the children, and cold water from the pump for both adults.

  As they all settled in, hands joined, heads bowed, they thanked the Lord for their food. As she took up her spoon, Rosemarie let her gaze roam over the group. Her children’s faces were flushed from the cold air and outdoor play. They ate with enthusiasm, hanging onto Daniel’s every word. He discussed the fine art of whittling with Chandler, while Amelia peppered him with questions. Jace, his eyes heavy with fatigue, spooned the stew into his mouth.

  Don’t get used to this. Regardless of how he makes you feel, remember, this is all temporary. Daniel doesn’t belong here.

  

  As Daniel explained whittling to Chandler, he remained aware of Rosemarie across the table from him. Each time he’d glanced in her direction, she would shift her eyes, a slight flush on her cheeks. Could she possibly have the same feelings for him as he did for her?

  Once recovered from the worst of her infection, the dark circles under her eyes disappeared and the sunken look to her cheeks filled out. She was truly a beautiful woman, even after years of hard work and bearing three children. Her full breasts, hidden under her work dresses and aprons, would fill his hands nicely. Earlier, as he watched her walk from the house to the barn, even with her slight limp, her hips swayed enticingly enough to cause him to re-adjust his trousers.

  Her soft voice as she read to her children at bed time floated over him, bringing with it the sense of happiness and security he’d had as a child when his own mother did the same with him and Stephen. His gut twisted when he remembered the present time and place. He was a fugitive, in enemy territory, being hunted by soldiers.

  They’d hidden the horse he’d stolen from the soldiers in the back of the barn, only letting him out to exercise, always concerned someone would ride up and ask questions. As much as he hated to admit it, the time grew near for him to leave.

  “Mr. McCoy, when the weather gets warmer, will you take us fishing?” Chandler wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Fishing.” Jace nodded.

  “Can I come, too?” Amelia asked.

  Daniel pushed his plate away and leaned his forearms on the table. “I have to return to my regiment very soon.”

  “What’s a regiment?” Chandler wrinkled his forehead.

  “That’s the group of soldiers I’m fighting the war with.” Daniel glanced over at Rosemarie. She placed her spoon along her bowl and folded her hands in front of her.

  Amelia left her chair and climbed onto Daniel’s lap. “I don’t want you to fight in a war.” She stuck her fingers in her mouth, and rested her head on his chest.

  His large hand smoothed her golden brown curls. “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do.”

  The little girl raised her soft blue eyes to him. “Like go to bed?”

  He chuckled and hugged her. “Yes, like going to bed.”

  “Speaking of bed, it’s time you all got washed up and in your nightshirts.” Rosemarie stood and began collecting dishes.

  Amid groans, the three children left the table and headed down the hallway.

  

  “I love listening to you read stories each night.” Daniel slid over on the settee to give Rosemarie room to sit.

  “A habit my mama started when we were all young.” She settled next to him. Very little pain radiated from her wound. In a day or so, she would be back to normal. And there would be no reason for Daniel to remain.

  “Tell me about your family. Do you have siblings?”

  Rosemarie smiled. “Oh yes. We were seven daughters and only three sons. Papa was not happy with all the girls.” She turned toward him, her elbow leaning on the top of the settee, her head resting in her cupped hand. “In fact, he thought all those females were punishment from the Lord for something he’d done wrong in his youth.”

  Daniel grimaced. “That must have hurt.”

  She shrugged. “When you grow up with that attitude, it doesn’t seem as bad as it does to someone hearing it for the first time.”

  “Are you among the oldest, the youngest?”

  “I was the last girl, one year older than the last boy, my brother Seth. Like the rest of my sisters, when I turned thirteen, Papa sent me out to work. I was lucky, though, to work for Mr. Oliver Morton, who’s now Governor of Indiana. He’s a real nice man.”

  “And how did you end up married to Hans Wilson?”

  Even after all these years, her stomach still clenched when she remembered that day. “Papa came to the Judge’s house when I was fifteen and told me he’d arranged for me to be married.”

  Daniel’s brows rose. “Fifteen?”

  Rosemarie nodded. “One year older than the sister before me.”

  Daniel blew out a low whistle.

  “It wasn’t so bad. I have three beautiful children.”

  “Yes, you do.” Daniel moved closer and twirled a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun. “Makes sense, since they have a beautiful mother.”

  She studied his lips as he spoke, then raised her eyelids until her gaze met his. Her heart thundered at the hunger in his eyes. “I don’t feel beautiful,” she whispered.

  “Oh, but you are.” Daniel lowered his head, brushed his lips over hers. When she sucked in a quick breath, he pulled her closer and took possession of her mouth, probing her lips with his tongue. His palms skimmed over her curves, lightly at first, then with firmness, his fingers massaging her slim shoulders and her back muscles.

  Rosemarie leaned into his hard body, her breasts crushed against his chest. Never before had she felt this heart-stopping desire. Her head spun, and her woman’s core ached with need. To have him touch her, to feel his work roughened hand against her naked skin.

  Daniel released her and loosened the buttons on her dress. She closed her eyes, felt the light touch of his feathery kisses on
her eyelids, then her nose, her chin, and finally the soft, sensitive skin under her ear. He pushed the dress to her waist and slid the straps of her chemise off her shoulders.

  His eyes darkened with passion as he skimmed her exposed skin, and then cupped her breast, kneading, pinching the nipple between his thumb and fore-finger.

  Rosemarie threw her head back and moaned. He dipped his head, and pulled a pebbled nipple into his mouth. His teeth grazed the tip and then he suckled deeply, shooting waves of sensation to the apex of her thighs.

  She glanced at his head against her chest, his mouth working her breast. She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, feeling the warmth and closeness.

  “I want you, sweetheart.” He raised his head, and caressed her cheek. “But I have no right.”

  Ever since he’d cut his hair and shaved his beard a couple of weeks ago, which revealed the strong chin with a cleft in the center, her hands had itched to run them over his face. Now she gave into the temptation and cupped his cheek. “I don’t care.”

  “I have nothing to offer. I can’t even stay to take care of you.”

  She closed her eyes, wanting him more than she’d ever wanted her husband. “I don’t care. Just love me for tonight.”

  Daniel groaned and swept her into his arms. He strode down the hallway and pushed open the door to her bedroom, kicking it closed with his foot. He deposited her gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving hers as he pulled his shirt from his pants.

  Rosemarie watched with fascination as he removed his clothes. For all the years she’d spent with Hans, she’d never seen him undressed. He’d always made sure the candles were extinguished before he crawled in alongside her.