The Convict and the Cattleman

by Allison Merritt

  The release surged from her womb, leaving her breathless. As she recovered from the blinding crescendo, he stepped out of his boots and removed his clothes.

  Without a word, Jonah helped her stand, her legs shaky as a newborn colt’s. The length of his erection pressed against her leg as they changed places. She reached for his jutting hardness. A dewy drop of moisture leaked from the tip. Bridgit wiped it away with her thumb and he groaned.

  Firm hands found her hips and guided her closer. She braced her knees on either of his thighs. His rod poised at her opening. He coaxed the tip inside, teasing her with the firm, round head, pushing up in a slow, deliberate stroke while pulling her hips down. They locked together, frozen as his shaft throbbed inside her. If she had one moment to hold onto forever, she wanted this one. She tightened around him, needing him as close as possible. With fevered strokes, she rose and lowered herself over him until a flood of sparkling light brought her to climax and he joined her as they fell over the edge together, panting. She welcomed his seed, arching her back as he came.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close. Beneath his chest, she listened to the gallop of his heart.

  There was a place for her here; he’d given it to her.

  “I care for you, too,” she whispered.

  * * * *

  A yawn escaped Bridgit, though she tried to stifle it. The last of the plates from breakfast waited to be scrubbed before the noon meal. Near the paddocks, men and women gathered to watch the race horses being prepared. With Bess’s help, they’d finish the task before the first race started. She hoped.

  “Did you sleep well last night?” Bess asked. She worked furiously, scrubbing grease from a skillet, but kept throwing suspicious glances Bridgit’s way.

  “Aye.” She hid her smile by ducking her head.

  “You look drowsier than a well-fed cat.”

  She shrugged. “It’s this additional work Martha has us doing. She must feel special, letting others clean her pots and pans while she simmers and bakes and boils for this fancy dinner tonight.”

  “What are you wearing to dinner? I expect Jonah will have you sitting at his side, nibbling roast beef and charming his friends.”

  Bridgit shook her head. “I’m not sitting with him. I planned to help you serve.”

  Bess sighed. “I enlisted Bitty. She’s woman enough to serve food to a mob of rich folk. Yesterday evening I caught her sitting with some boy who came as a groom for one of the race horses, all smiles and giggles.”

  “No wonder, grown up as she looks. You’ve got a beautiful daughter, Bess.”

  “She’s supposed to watch Margie, not chase young men.”

  Bess looked up from the skillet, eyes roving over the yard. Bitty sat in the shade with Margie nearby. The thin line of Bess’s mouth was replaced by a relieved smile.

  Bridgit dried a plate and put it on the clean stack. “I’ll watch Margie later if you like. Bitty doesn’t get the opportunity to see many people her age.”

  A few years separated her and Bess’s daughter. She remembered afternoons spent with friends, wondering if young men thought her pretty. It seemed longer ago than it was.

  “You’ll do that while you’re chasing a man yourself, will you?” Bess asked.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Was she so transparent?

  Bess cocked her head. “You’re telling me you haven’t noticed Phillip Banner taking an interest.”

  Bridgit gaped. “I can truly say I haven’t noticed any such thing.”

  “The first to volunteer after you went off sulking last night. Lo and behold, I watched him escort you from the garden. After you spent several long minutes with him there. Don’t think I can’t see what’s going on.”

  “He was being kind.” What about their wager? If Coalface lost the race, she’d owe him a kiss.

  Nothing more than a friendly bet.

  Shaking water from the skillet, Bess gave her a pointed look. “All I’m saying is if one horse won’t eat from your hand, another will.”

  Laughter bubbled out of Bridgit’s throat. “I have no idea what you’re getting at.”

  “Best not to gather all the eggs in one basket.”

  She splashed soapy water at Bess. “Can’t you say what you mean?”

  Bess dried her hand on her apron and patted Bridgit’s shoulder. Her eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m talking about Jonah. It looks as though he’s set his sights on Mrs. Burbank. I heard she has experience with children.”

  A smile spread across her face. “Her? No, he told me last night he’s decided to hire me permanently. I’m staying on as Olivia’s nurse.”

  “Is that right?” Bess’s eyes rounded, but she was clearly pleased with the announcement. “I knew if Jonah stopped being stubborn, he’d see the jewel in front of him.”

  “A moment ago you were warning me away from him.” Bridgit shook her head. Her smile felt firmly attached.

  A shriek came from the kitchen, followed by unintelligible, but angry words.

  “What was that?” Bess wondered aloud.

  Bridgit thought she knew. The smile slipped. Swallowing the fear threatening to engulf her, she scrubbed another plate.

  “I’m afraid there’s bit of a problem between Millicent and myself. I expect Jonah’s settling it.”

  Several of the guests noticed the noise and turned from the horses to listen.

  “What kind of problem?”

  She explained the evening’s events, watching as Bess’s expression changed from shock to outrage, but she omitted the part where she’d spent the night with Jonah despite Charity sleeping across the hall.

  A knowing smile appeared on Bess’s face. “He’s defending you. Right now. I think he may have deep feelings for you. Oh, I hope so, Bridgit. You could have a wedding and raise Olivia as your own.”

  The sound of glass shattering broke Bridgit’s hope. A crowd gathered in the yard, murmuring and whispering.

  “Oh, dear. That didn’t sound good,” Bess muttered.

  A flurry of blue skirts and lace flew out the kitchen door. “You’re a liar and a scoundrel. Everyone will find out what kind of person you are, Jonah Andrus! You’ll pay for your lies!”

  Martha was on her daughter’s heels. Millicent’s chest heaved with sobs. Jonah followed them outside. A red blotch marred his face and his hair was disheveled. The guests were silent, but every eye turned their way. If he noticed them, he gave no sign.

  Jonah glared. “You’ve lost your mind, Millicent. You’re acting like a spoiled child instead of a woman capable of making sensible decisions.”

  “What’s going on?” Niles Jackson demanded, pushing through the throng of people. “Millie, what’s the matter?”

  “He’s using me, Niles! Jonah promised to marry me, but he’s keeping that…that convict woman instead!” Millicent wailed.

  Bridgit was sure every soul in the territory heard the declaration.

  “Mother of mercy,” Bess gasped.

  Niles bounded up the porch steps and punched Jonah across the mouth. Jonah staggered at the blow, but regrouped and raised his fists. Jackaroos swarmed around the men, pulling them away from each other.

  Niles struggled against the restraining hands. “I’ll kill you, Jonah. It’s not enough that your own sister played the whore with these men, but you bring similar circumstances down on my sister too.”

  Jonah spat blood on the ground. “I never touched her!”

  Millicent sobbed against her mother’s shoulder like a wounded animal. “He’s lying. He p-promised he’d marry me.”

  Bridgit started forward, focused on Jonah, but Bess grabbed her arm.

  “Stay here,” the older woman hissed.

  Phil stepped in, the voice of reason amidst the chaos. “Come on now, Niles. You’ve known Jonah your whole life. He’d never hurt your sister this way.”

  “If she says he did it, then it’s true.” Niles pulled one arm free of the hands holding him. Anger colored his fa
ce.

  “Leave. Take your sister home and I don’t want to see either of your faces here again,” Jonah commanded. He pushed away the two jackaroos on either side of him. “I understand defending your sister, but I won’t allow her to spew nonsense at me. Go.”

  Niles spat at Jonah’s feet and jerked free of the jackaroos. “Come on. I wouldn’t stay here another minute anyway.”

  Millicent turned to Charity. “He’ll use you too. Wait and see. There’s not an honorable intention in his body!”

  Taggart pulled his daughter close, his eyes flicking between the Jacksons and Jonah.

  “Millicent, now!” Martha barked.

  The three of them headed toward the barn where their gig waited. Millicent’s sobs faded as they went. Jonah looked dazed as he gazed out at the spectators.

  “Let me go,” Bridgit said.

  She lifted her skirt and slipped through the crowd, which was dispersing since the fight was over. Jonah opened the kitchen door. It slammed with a bang behind him. For a moment, she wondered whether she should follow him.

  Farjana appeared at her side. “Go on, get a cloth to put on his lip. I’ll clean up the glass.”

  As Bridgit entered, Jonah took a seat at the table. He rubbed his jaw. A thin line of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. “How’s that for a party?”

  She didn’t see the humor. Water spilled from the pump onto a clean rag, she rang it out and pulled out a chair next to him. “Raise your chin. Does it hurt?”

  “I think he intended to take my head off.”

  He winced when she pressed the cloth to his mouth. The red mark on his cheek was the perfect image of Millicent’s hand. Bridgit traced it with a light finger.

  “I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

  “No, it isn’t. First thing when I saw her, she came at me like we were long lost lovers. She kissed me and when I pushed her away, she slapped me, then started making accusations. It’s a bloody nightmare. Did you hear what Niles said about Charlotte?”

  Much as she hated to admit it, she nodded. “I heard all of it.”

  Farjana swept the shards of the crystal punch bowl into a pile. She shook her head, murmuring in her language as she scooped up the debris and carried it outside.

  “My ears are ringing. God, I never knew he could hit like that.” Jonah shook his head as though trying to clear away annoying insects.

  Behind them, the kitchen door opened again and boots scuffed against the floor. Grim-faced, Phil clutched his hat. “Boss, I thought we should get this mornin’s excitement out of people’s minds. We can start the racin’. We’ll take care of it if you need a moment.”

  Jonah nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll be out before Coalface runs.”

  “Alright. I’ve got Dagmar and Martin posted, making sure Niles doesn’t come back.” He winked. “Take care of him, Bridgit.”

  The cloth hit the table with a wet thump. Jonah stood and paced the length of the kitchen. One hand ruffled his hair. Bridgit bit her lip, watching him stride back and forth. For the second time, the kitchen door burst open and the looming figure of George Taggart filled the doorway.

  “What the hell is going on here, Andrus?”

  Bridgit cringed at the powerful voice echoing through the house.

  Charity peered over her father’s shoulder, face pale and eyes wide. “Father,” she protested, tugging at his sleeve.

  Taggart’s face contorted with anger. “I thought you were an upright man. I’ve heard nothing but good about you. Then a young woman comes out screaming, accusing you of taking advantage. I demand an explanation. This minute.” He pounded one finger against his upturned palm.

  “It’s a misunderstanding, sir. Jonah never laid a finger on Millicent,” Bridgit insisted. “He’d never take advantage of her or your daughter or anyone.”

  “Bridgit–” Jonah protested.

  She interrupted him. “I believe she assumed Jonah meant to take Mrs. Burbank as his wife. Millicent lied in order to ruin those plans.”

  Taggart eyed her. “It was quite convincing. How do you know all of this, young lady?”

  “She told me on one occasion she planned to marry Jonah. Yesterday she admitted she listened to Mr. Server tell Jonah that you and your daughter were attending the races. She informed me that Mr. Server thought it would be a good match. I gave my bed to Mrs. Burbank last night. I know for certain he didn’t do more than bid her good night.”

  “These are very suspicious circumstances, young lady. As I understand it, his sister has an illegitimate baby, he’s sleeping with his help, and now he wants my daughter, a woman with a sterling reputation, to watch after this bastard child. With no acting chaperone.”

  “Taggart, that’s enough,” Jonah snapped.

  Bridgit slashed her hand through the air, interrupting him again. “Sir, Olivia’s parentage isn’t her fault. No one should blame her for that. Jonah only wants the best for her as any caring guardian would. Mr. Server’s judgment is valuable. When he suggested Mrs. Burbank take this job, no one could guess Millicent would act with such repulsive behavior.”

  Taggart’s eyes roamed over Bridgit, Jonah and his daughter. “You’re positive this is a misunderstanding?”

  “On my honor.” It wouldn’t count for much if he asked about her background, but he didn’t.

  “I’m capable of making my own decisions, Father,” Charity murmured, hands tucked behind her back and eyes on the floor. “It doesn’t matter. Jonah’s letting Bridgit stay on.”

  Taggart didn’t seem surprised. “Hmph. Well, it’s clear why. She loves him, Charity. Couldn’t be plainer if it was written on her face. No better person to raise his niece than the woman who loves him. It’s not the kind of triangle you want to interfere with.”

  Heat surged throughout her body. She felt Jonah’s eyes on her, but couldn’t meet them. Why would Taggart say such a thing? Surely it wasn’t so obvious that they were intimate.

  “We’ll stay for the races, but we’re leaving immediately after,” Taggart announced. “Come, Charity. We’ll miss the first round of ponies.”

  She gave them an apologetic smile and followed her father out the door.

  Jonah dropped into the chair he’d vacated earlier. He rested his forehead against his palm.

  “Please don’t listen to him, Jonah. I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about. Of course I don’t...I don’t love you. You’re my friend. Well, perhaps more than that, but I certainly don’t have any designs on you,” Bridgit blurted.

  For a long moment he was silent. Dark eyes met hers. “Marry me, Bridgit.”

  18

  One hand covered her mouth and the bright color flooding her face ebbed away.

  Agog with ideas, Jonah rose and stood before her. After last night, the idea had more appeal. “It makes perfect sense for a number of reasons. Stop looking at me as though you think Niles jarred my brain.”

  “I did no such thing,” she denied. “I’m not convinced, however, that you’re thinking clearly.”

  “Not thinking–of course I’m bloody thinking clearly. It makes sense,” he insisted. Raising his hand, he counted off the reasons on his fingers. “First, if we announce I’m marrying you, it explains Millicent’s outburst. Second, we do care for one another. Third, I trust your judgment. You’re capable of managing the household. We’ll need a cook and a housekeeper now. Most importantly, Olivia’s well-being is at stake. You’re staying anyway and it’s very convenient.”

  Her face fell at his words. “Convenient?”

  He didn’t see how such a simple statement upset her. “Aye. What’s the matter?”

  “You said you care for me and if it’s true, I should like to be treated as though you care. Not told it’s lucky I’m young and attractive after all the fuss you made about it at the Factory.”

  Why shouldn’t he be surprised she was angry over a spontaneous proposal? Nothing else had gone his way today. “I didn’t say–”

  She folded her arms across he
r chest and tipped her chin up. “I’m very aware of what you didn’t say.”

  Thoroughly annoyed, he leaned closer. “Perhaps you should tell me word for word what would put me in your good graces and make you agreeable to this marriage.”

  The smooth flesh at her neck jumped when she swallowed and he realized not only was she upset because she believed his words were crass, but she was frightened as well. Three weeks was not a sufficient amount of time to know and propose to a woman. Yet, he’d watched her with his niece and knew without doubt she loved Olivia as much as she’d love her own children. From the first moment she’d looked at him with hope in her eyes, he hadn’t been able to turn her away and with each passing day it seemed less likely. He cared too much.

  Jonah put his hands on her shoulders. “Bridgit, I want you to be more than a servant here. More than my bedmate. I’m asking if you would become my wife, Olivia’s foster mother and the mistress of Laurie Lark.”

  The rigidity left her posture and she curled against him. The front of his shirt dampened as her shoulders shook. What had he done? Perhaps he was doomed to offend the entire female population at the station.

  “I’ll marry you,” she muttered against his chest.

  He’d not courted her, nor given her undying vows of love. A roof, a job, and kept her belly full. Marriages were often based on less. Did it upset her?

  She dried her face with the back of her hand. “We have a big job ahead if we’re going to get by without Martha tonight. Bess and Farjana should start preparing dinner, but I’ll be out to watch Coalface if I can find time.”

  There was the woman he’d come to trust. “You have a dress for dinner, don’t you? We’ll make the announcement before we eat.”

  A crease appeared between her eyes. “I hadn’t planned to attend dinner with Martha gone. We’ll be short-handed.”

  He hated the crease and stroked her cheek, willing it away. “You have to. It’s important for everyone to hear our plans. Surely there’s something upstairs you can wear.”