Giving her sister a curt nod, Emily pulled her hand away and climbed aboard the sleigh.
Joshua reached to help her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” She folded her arms and stared straight ahead.
Joshua nodded an acknowledgement, but said nothing more. A perceptive man, he obviously guessed this wasn’t a good time for social commentary. What a pity Benjamin couldn’t be more like him, Emily thought with a wistful sigh.
She pulled a thick quilt up over her legs and snuggled down into its warmth as they made the long drive to the Henderson farm. Yet another sleepless night had left her tired. She closed her eyes. Lulled by the steady rhythm of the horse’s hoof beats, she nearly drifted off to sleep. Despite the cold air, the morning sun warmed her cheeks.
When next she opened her eyes, the Hendersons’ house was already in clear view. Suddenly anxious about the new direction her life was taking, Emily sat bolt upright, her hands clasped in her lap.
“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.” Joshua gave her a reassuring smile. “You’ve always loved children,” he reminded her.
She nodded, choking back her apprehension. “But I’ve never been around children so young,” she pointed out. “I’ve only dealt with ones who were old enough to think and talk.” Panic lurked in the corners of her mind, threatening to jump out and put her plans asunder. “Oh, dear, what have I gotten myself into?”
“With little ones, you need to take charge. They’ll respect you for it. Just remember, you’re the adult.” Joshua chuckled.
“Yes, right. I am,” she agreed, although at the moment she didn’t feel nearly grown-up enough to face the task before her. Nor did she know quite how to face the scowling young man who leaned against the corral gate, watching closely as the sleigh glided into the yard.
When it stopped, Benjamin pushed away from the gate and stepped forward. “Emily? What are you doing here? I thought you were going back to Denver.” The scowl remained firmly in place, but he did hold out his hand to assist her.
Emily refused to accept his help, and instead, maneuvered her own way down from the sleigh, nearly falling in the process. Both Ben and Joshua rushed toward her.
“I’m fine,” she said, struggling to regain her balance. She turned to her sister’s husband at the same time the back door of the house opened. Tom Henderson came out.
“Let me help you there,” he offered.
Emily thanked both men, then turned her attention to Benjamin once more.
“I know you wanted me to go back to school, but something came up. I believe you were the one who once told me we need to go where the opportunities are if we hope to get ahead.”
“So?” He glared at her. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here,” he said, looking strangely stricken as Tom and Joshua lifted her two valises from the sleigh, “or why you’ve apparently brought along everything you own. What’s going on?”
Emily fixed him with the sweetest smile she could muster. “I’m surprised nobody told you.” Truly, she was. “I’m going to be working here. Lucille has hired me to help with the girls.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I most certainly can.”
Tom cleared his throat, interrupting their awkward conversation. “If you’ll follow me, Emily, I’ll show you to your room.” He tipped his hat toward Joshua. “Thanks for bringing her out. Saved me a long drive. I appreciate it.”
Still smiling, Emily waved as Joshua climbed back into the sleigh, lifted the reins, and headed toward the J Bar K.
“Emily, wait! Listen to me.” Ben grabbed her arm as she walked away. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Excuse me,” she said, pulling her arm free. “I have to go now. I need to meet with Lucille. She and I will have to discuss my responsibilities, and I need to get settled in.” She took a few steps, then stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Wasn’t this what she wanted? A chance to be close to Ben, to keep an eye on him, and above all, a chance to find out what his true feelings were? “Tom,” she called to the man with her valises, “tell Lucille I’ll be right there.” She waited until he stepped into the house, then turned back to Benjamin. “Maybe we can talk later,” she suggested. “Is there somewhere I could meet you? I’m not sure what my duties will entail, but maybe after dinner…” She bit her lip and shook her head. “No, I’ll probably be quite busy then, too. Perhaps after the girls are in bed—”
“You can’t stay here, Emily.”
“I most certainly can, and I will.” Weeks of fury erupted within her. “I don’t have to listen to you, Ben. Furthermore, I’m tired of letting you bounce me around like a rubber ball. You love me, you don’t love me. You want me, you don’t want me. Stay, go, whatever! You’ve made me crazy, and I’m not listening to another word you have to say.”
“Don’t make this difficult.”
“You’re accusing me of making things difficult? After all you’ve done?”
He reached for her hands. “Yes, don’t you see? How do you expect me to be around you and not want you? How do you expect me to do my job if you’re here distracting me every day?” The sly look on his face was downright disarming.
She wouldn’t fall for it. “Maybe you’re just afraid of what I might see,” she retorted, jerking her hands away and giving him a stone-cold glare. “You’ve sworn there’s nothing whatsoever going on between you and that girl, so I see no reason for you to be concerned.” With a lift of her chin and a jaunty tilt to her head, Emily flounced into the house.
Chapter Ten
Ben stomped off, furious at Emily and angry at himself for letting the situation get out of hand. He should have been firmer with her. Or maybe not. Maybe he should have been honest with her from the start. Hiding anything from Emily was impossible. If she came to the bunkhouse that evening—an enticing thought, he had to admit—he’d tell her the truth and explain in no uncertain terms why he wanted her to go back home…why she must go back home. All he’d done was for her benefit, all an attempt to protect her. Maybe he’d gone about it the wrong way, he grudgingly admitted to himself.
Throughout the day, he worked hard, his agitation and anger spurring him on. He cleaned stalls, polished every piece of leather in the tack room, then rode out to check the fences and make his usual surveillance of the property.
At the top of one ridge, he drew his Appaloosa to a halt and sat gazing off into the distance. The Colorado country was a land of intense beauty in all seasons. Spectacular vistas awaited in any direction a man might turn to look. From glorious mountain peaks to crystal clear streams, dense stands of lodge pole pine, quaking aspens, and tall cottonwoods, the panoramic view thrilled the eye.
Yet the scenic backdrop could be a setting for danger, too. Ben thought again of the myriad caves and caverns beneath the ground, the oddly-shaped rock formations that jutted outward from the mountains, and the many deep ruts and gullies where a man could lay low and remain hidden. There were also old shacks scattered about, convenient places for a fellow to lodge for a time when he had nowhere else to go.
Was his father holed up somewhere nearby? And what of the huge, hulking giant he’d seen too many times to count as coincidence? Could he be close, perhaps even now watching Ben?
He wondered, too, about Joe Love’s gold. Maybe it was out there, hidden beneath the snowy landscape. Or, more likely, the gold was nothing more than legend, as insubstantial as the ghosts that guarded it. How pathetic that something that probably did not even exist could wreak so much havoc in the lives of so many different people.
With a sorrowful shake of his head, Ben lifted the reins and rode on.
At the end of the day, as he rode homeward, Ben’s thoughts strayed far from ghosts and gold. He didn’t want to think too much about Emily. Especially he didn’t want to think about her working for Lucille and being so temptingly close. Yet he could think of nothing else.
After tending to his horse, Ben stopped by the kitchen and grabbed the
plate of victuals Della had prepared for him. He quickly wolfed it down.
“You’re sure hungry,” she remarked.
“Ravenous.”
Della’s lilting laughter rang through the air.
Ben looked up from his plate. “What’s so funny?”
“I can guess what it is you’re so hungry for, Ben.” She leaned against the table. “Was it your idea she come to work here?”
“No, not at all.”
“You haven’t told her anything, have you?”
He put down the fork and pushed his plate away. “About you? About the gold? No, I haven’t said a word. I don’t want her to know.” He leaned back, unsure of how much to say. “Emily likes to stick her nose in where it doesn’t belong,” he finally said. “I don’t want her here, Della. I’m going to try to convince her to go back home.”
“Yes, that’s probably the best thing.” She stepped forward. “All finished?” she asked, reaching for his plate.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Are you going to talk to her tonight?”
Ben shrugged. “I don’t know.” He doubted Emily would actually seek him out, despite her earlier suggestion that they meet. He got to his feet. “The sooner, the better, as far as I’m concerned.”
He headed to the bunkhouse and closed the door behind him. Normally he turned in early, especially after a long day. Tonight, though, he was far too restive to even think of sleeping. The more he thought of Emily and what he would say to her, the more agitated he became. Unless he found some way to get her off his mind, he’d never make it through the night.
Searching for a distraction, Ben grabbed for the playing cards. As he laid them out, however, he found it impossible to concentrate. He kept glancing toward the door.
All remained quiet. Emily did not come knocking. Finally, with a heavy sigh, Ben tucked the deck back into the desk drawer and headed for his bunk. She wasn’t coming. He hadn’t really expected her to.
For a long time, he lay awake, regretting so many things. He loved Emily, and he wanted her. But she clearly didn’t trust him. He worried that nothing he said or did would fix matters now.
At least, he still had his dreams.
Maybe someday, she’d listen to reason.
Finally, he closed his eyes. Night had fallen, and the winter wind had picked up. Outside his window, it now howled through the darkness. Never in his life had he ever felt so lonely. Even when as a young boy he’d run away from his father and found himself clinging precariously to a rocky ledge, he’d still felt alive and filled with hope. When, a few short months afterward, he’d been forced to hide out in the blackness of a gloomy hollow in the foothills, he’d still felt a genuine connection to the world around him and to those people in it who cared about him and risked so much to help him.
But now, this was different. This was a loneliness so deep and so pervasive, it threatened to consume him. This loneliness left him yearning for all the things he couldn’t have.
It left him longing for love and brought his thoughts around again to Emily.
He closed his eyes and conjured up the image of her. A warm feeling spread through him as he pictured her lovely face…and her nubile body. Desires stirred within him.
Ben was twenty-one years old, by all rights a grown man, yet he’d never known a woman in the carnal sense. His only bed partner had been his luscious thoughts of Emily Sue. When he’d worked at the J Bar K, the other hands had often teased him about his lack of experience. More than once they’d offered to take him to the Red Mule and get him broke in right, as they called it.
Maybe that’s what he should do. At this point, his relationship with Emily had most likely been irreparably broken. He’d always thought that he and Emily would learn about lovemaking together. He doubted that would ever happen now.
Of course, it came natural, right? A man didn’t have to learn how to make love. Or so he wanted to believe. Surely there were little tricks to give a woman pleasure, but he had a feeling that he’d figure those out with the right woman—who happened to be Emily Sue Phillips.
Nobody else.
Giving in to his yearnings as he’d done so many other long and lonely nights, he leaned back and let his hand drift downward. The mere thought of Emily was all it ever took to give him a rock-hard erection. Excitement mounted as he pushed his flannel long-johns over his narrow hips. Ben grasped himself now and slowly stroked, all the while picturing Emily’s delicate breasts. Although Emily had no idea, he’d seen her breasts once. She’d been visiting with Kat and had just stepped out of the shower Joshua had rigged up off the kitchen. Ben had come strolling around the corner at precisely the right time to catch a glimpse of her, naked from the waist up. He’d seen those delicate breasts, had espied those rosy pink nipples, and ever since, he’d dreamed of tasting their sweetness. The thought of suckling at those tender nubs drove him to a frenzy of desire.
Yet men said the true honey—the nectar—lay between a woman’s legs, in that sweet, secret spot that only lovers knew.
If Emily were with him now, Ben thought, he would explore every inch of her body, running his fingers over her skin with a light touch, dipping into that wetness of desire.
Crazy with lust, he stroked harder and faster. His mouth fell open, and he gasped and moaned as he neared his pinnacle.
A sudden blast of cold air shot through the bunkhouse. Ben gasped as moonlight poured in through the open doorway.
The timing could not have been worse, but at the moment, it didn’t matter. The rising tide of passion within him exploded. He couldn’t stop what had already begun.
A shriek ripped through the air.
“Ben! What are you doing?”
“Emily,” he croaked, opening his eyes to see her standing at the foot of his bunk. He jerked a woolen blanket up to cover himself.
She turned away and staggered toward the door. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
Clutching the blanket around him, Ben leaped from the bed, nearly tripping over it in his haste to reach Emily before she left him. He rushed ahead of her, closed the door, and leaned against it.
“Don’t go, please.”
“I—I really think I should.”
Ben wasn’t about to let her slip away. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you make it a habit to sneak into bunkhouses without knocking?” he asked the red-faced girl, a teasing tone in his voice.
“I wasn’t sneaking,” she replied. “And I did knock. Obviously you didn’t hear.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “I was a bit, well, preoccupied.”
She stood silently before him, staring at his blanket-clad form. Her pale blue eyes slid over him, taking in the bare chest with its sprinkling of reddish hair, then moving swiftly down to gaze at his flat, well-muscled abdomen before dipping lower still. Her breath caught.
“I know what you were doing. You were abusing yourself.”
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t call it abuse. More like I was amusing myself.”
A look of genuine concern pooled in those lovely eyes. “Aren’t you afraid of what might happen? You could lose your eyesight, Ben, and what would you do then?” She clutched at his arm. “I know all about it. Miss Brundage explained it.”
Not a good time to laugh, he quickly decided, fighting to hold back his mirth. Emily, he reminded himself had had quite the conventional upbringing.
“Your spinster headmistress at the academy?”
She nodded curtly. “Yes. She lectured us on the evils of self-abuse. She called it a heinous sin.”
“Did she tell you, too, that men who pleasure themselves have warts covering their body, that they turn into hairy beasts? Did she tell you men go insane from the practice?”
At the mention of each further dire possibility, Emily’s eyes grew wider. They reminded Ben of delicate china saucers with pale blue centers.
“Don’t make light of this. It’s a serious matter.” She folded her arms over her lov
ely breasts. “It’s wrong. You know it. And, yes, it does cause insanity.”
“Actually, it’s more likely to prevent it. Men need a way to release tension, Emily. Of course, I suppose I could ride into Sunset and call on the girls at the Red Mule. Maybe in your mind, that would be more acceptable?”
She drew back. “How dare you speak to me in such a brazen manner. You’ve got no respect, Ben. Not for me, and obviously not for women if you’d willingly pay to take one to bed. That’s shameful. Worst of all, you’ve got no respect for yourself.” She jerked her head toward him, her gaze landing once more on a certain part of his anatomy that was beginning to stir once more beneath the gray blanket.
* * * *
Emily blushed and looked away, recalling the snickers and giggles that rippled through the lecture hall as Miss Brundage preached against the wicked practice as she called it, along with the aid of numerous drawings, charts, and a long wooden pointer she waved about with a flourish. At other times, the strict woman took the pointer in her hand and stroked it lovingly. Emily’s blush deepened at the thought. She remembered, too, the heat and the wetness she so often felt between her legs when she thought about...manly parts. Again, Miss Brundage’s term.
Emily had never actually seen a man’s privates. Even when she’d burst into the bunkhouse and caught Benjamin with his manly parts exposed, she hadn’t had her wits about her enough to take a good look. She regretted turning away so quickly.
Did manly parts look as frightening—and as ugly—as the drawings suggested?
...swollen with lustful desires to a shameful reddish-purple state, a veritable spear with which a man impales a woman...
Such acts were to never to be encouraged, of course, but within the confines of wedlock, a woman became subject to such degradation, at which time, she must learn to grit her teeth and bear the agony all in the name of duty.
Turning her attention away from the protrusion beneath the blanket, she looked up at Ben, “Do you do this sort of thing often?” she asked in a tiny voice. For the first time, it occurred to her that Miss Brundage might not be an expert in the subject of human sexuality. Most certainly the intimidating older woman with the tight gray bun and high-necked gowns had never practiced any wicked acts on her own—with or without the benefit of a male partner.
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