Tom stepped up. “Stay here,” he ordered. “Both of you.”
Lucille slipped an arm around Emily. Together they huddled at the door of the parlor.
“Be careful,” Lucille said.
“It’s John Brooks.” Emily now found her voice. “I woke up. He was in my room.”
“Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll fix a pot of tea.” Lucille guided her from the parlor. “Did he hurt you?” she asked. “Did he say anything? What was he doing?”
“No, he didn’t touch me. I tried to stay quiet. I wanted to see what he meant to do, but my nerves got the better of me.”
Hearing Tom return, both of them looked toward the doorway. He appeared seconds later, shaking his head.
“No one was there, Emily.”
“I saw him! Did you go outside? Did you see anyone running away?”
Tom shook his head. “The front door is securely locked. I checked all the windows in your room, too. Everything is tightly fastened.”
Lucille reached out and stroked her hair, much like Mama used to do when Emily was a little girl and sometimes had bad dreams. “We’ve all been under a strain lately.”
“Are you saying…I made it up?”
“No, not deliberately.” Lucille’s voice was soft. “It was a nightmare, Emily. And thank goodness that’s all it was.” She looked up at her husband, obviously near tears herself. “Tom, it’s time we put a stop to this. I can’t take any more. Neither can Emily, and Della is probably as frightened as we are.”
Tom’s features hardened. “We’re not leaving. That’s what these people want. I’m not giving in and letting them win.” He turned and walked away.
Emily’s mind whirled. Had it just been a dream? She had been so certain. If so, she had terrified Lucille out of sleep for nothing. She reached for Lucille’s hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause more trouble.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Get some sleep. I’ll talk to Tom.”
As Lucille returned to her own room, Emily noted the slump of her shoulders, the heaviness of her walk. The woman couldn’t bear much more of this.
Emily couldn’t take much more either. But the thought of going home was no longer an option. After that awful argument with Mama, she had no choice but to remain at the Henderson place.
Choices.
There was that word again. She’d stood her ground, had made her choices, and what was the result? She thought of how often her parents talked about opening and closing doors. When one door closed, they insisted, the Lord opened other doors for you.
Now, quite the opposite had happened. She’d opened the door to a future with Ben, but by doing so, all other doors were now closed.
Feeling desperately alone and miserable, she hurried to her room and shut the door.
Unable to go back to sleep, Emily sat at the window, staring out toward the bunkhouse. She yearned to slip outside, go to Ben, curl up beside him, and sleep with him throughout the long night.
She remembered how it felt to lie next to him, to have his arms around her, to nestle against him, and to hear his slow, steady breath in the darkness. The physical pleasures they had shared still amazed her, yet in so many ways, it was the love, not the lust, she craved.
Ben was a man, of course. Men didn’t long so much for love and romance. Their thoughts were ruled by passion, by carnal pleasures. Although Helen Brundage surely knew nothing whatsoever about the joys of lovemaking—at least, not between a man and a woman—she had offered one pithy statement that seemed very much on the mark.
Marriage, she decreed, was little more than a marketplace where commodities were bought and sold. Women, she counseled, had no choice but to offer sex in exchange for love. In return, a man would succumb to temptation. He would give love—and marriage—in order to get the sex his lustful body craved.
Miss Brundage thought it a horrible price to pay. To Emily, it seemed a reasonable deal. She wanted to marry Benjamin, to be his wife, to have his name, to bear his children. If that could be accomplished through the act of giving him pleasure…she sighed at the thought.
Yes, perhaps she could strike a happy bargain with young Mr. Brooks.
Chapter Fifteen
When Ben heard the light tap-tap-tapping at the bunkhouse door late on Monday night, he tried to wipe the grin from his face. He failed. In that secret way that lovers had—he still marveled over it—he knew Emily had come calling. He suspected he knew what she wanted.
The same thing he wanted.
The winter night had already settled over the Henderson land. Tom, Lucille, and their children were probably already abed, and most likely Miss Emily Sue was feeling a mite lonesome. He’d be only too glad to keep her company for a while.
Or maybe she’d just felt the winter’s chill and needed a bit of warmth and coziness. He’d gladly provide those, as well.
Ben opened the door and invited her in.
“Does anyone know you’re here?” he asked as she unfastened her woolen cloak. As much as he wanted here there with him, he had to be certain not to compromise her reputation. “Did anyone see you?”
She tossed the cloak onto a chair and shook her head. “I made sure everyone was sleeping before I slipped out.”
“We probably shouldn’t make a habit of this,” he said, reaching to take her hands in his.
“Oh, no, of course we won’t. Only now and then.” Her eyes glowed with excitement.
“Yes, now and then.” Gazing fondly upon her beautiful features, Ben repeated the words.
“And I really shouldn’t stay too long when I do come to see you.”
“You’re right. You’ll need to get back to the house soon.”
“Yes, so we mustn’t waste a single moment.” Emily bent forward and kissed him, boldly teasing his bottom lip with her tongue. “Don’t you want to know why I’m here?”
“Yes, why?” He returned each teasing kiss with one of his own.
“I thought maybe we should explore a little more, since, after all, we’re both still learning…” Her words drifted off on a sigh. “Would you like that?”
He grinned. “I’d like that a lot,” he whispered, pulling her close against his hard body. “And you’re right. We don’t want to waste a minute.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her up in his arms. With long strides, he carried her across the room and placed her gently on his bed.
Only one small lamp burned in the corner of the big bunkhouse. All else was in darkness. Ben lay close beside Emily. He reached for her hand. “Where do you want to begin?”
She nuzzled his neck, then breathed tiny kisses against his earlobe, laughing softly as he shuddered and moaned. Still nibbling playfully at his neck, she pulled her hand away, then tugged his shirt tails free. Her fingers worked at the buttons.
“Need a little help?” His voice came out hoarse.
Emily nodded then rolled away. As he unbuttoned his shirt, she pulled her loose blouse over her head, exposing a delicate, lace-trimmed camisole. Beneath it, Ben knew, lay a complicated array of layers.
Lord in heaven, why was a decent girl required to wear so many underthings? Probably to save her from lustful men like him. The time required to undress a creature of the fairer sex could discourage desire, thereby saving virtue for another day.
But tonight, despite their teasing remarks, he and Emily had time enough to savor every bit of pleasure they could find in one another’s embrace.
He sat up, letting his shirt fall open and loving the eager look he saw in Emily’s eyes. Her hands slipped beneath the fabric, her fingers tracing crazy designs over his broad chest. Ben held his breath, marveling at all the sensations he felt.. When she lightly grazed a nipple, he nearly shot out of the bed, so intense was the pleasure rushing through him.
Although he wanted her to keep touching him, he sighed and moved away. His own indulgence could wait. What mattered more was giving her gratification. He
thought of the pleasures they’d shared before. Could he make her feel those same wondrous things again? When his ran a finger along the upper edge of her camisole and her breath caught in her throat, Ben drew encouragement.
“Do you like that?” His fingers moved in slow, lazy circles, tapping lightly at her delicate collarbone.
“You know I do. Help me undress.” Her whispered words rustled through the stillness.
Ben swallowed back the last of his doubts and pushed all questions far from his head. His world had narrowed to one singular focus—Miss Emily Sue Phillips. He’d somehow loved her from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her seven years before, and he knew beyond any doubt that he would never stop loving her.
With gentle movements, he slipped the camisole over her head, then tossed it toward the floor where her cotton blouse had fallen. His throat went dry, and he stepped back, watching in fascination as she lifted her skirts and unfastened her stockings from their garters.
Emily looked up, caught him staring, with his tongue hanging out, no less, and she gave him a shy smile. If there was one thing Emily loved, it was being the center of attention. She had every last ounce of it now, and she knew it.
Her smile became a playful, seductive pout. She sat on the bed, lifted one shapely leg upward, and slowly unrolled a stocking. Ben licked his lips, and she giggled. Left leg up, stocking rolled off, another come-hither look from the temptress in his bed.
Emily had figured it all out. She knew exactly what to do. How to tease, how to please. Like he’d told himself all along, just do what comes naturally.
But do it slowly, he reminded himself, resisting a very natural urge to strip off the last of his clothes, lunge for the bed, and rut like there was no tomorrow. Emily deserved better.
His erection pressed against the confines of his denims. His heavy sac ached with desires. Emily slipped from the bed to stand before him again, now unfastening her skirt. Beneath it were a half-dozen petticoats, and beneath them her under-drawers. She stepped out of the petticoats, then slowly turned.
So many clothes!
Even now, her enticing form remained hidden from view beneath her corset and drawers.
* * * *
Emily cherished the adoring look in Ben’s amber eyes, the way his gaze raked over every inch of her body, the way his mouth hung open as he watched her slow, sensuous movements. When had she become so wanton, so free?
Slowly, she loosened the stays on her corset, keeping her movements slow and seductive, almost laughing as Ben kept licking at his lips. He’d given her such exquisite pleasure during their previous encounter, tonight she meant to show her gratitude and please him in every possible way.
Yet when he moved off the bed and came to her, she couldn’t resist his touch. She moaned with delight when his head went down to her breasts, and his tongue circled one hard, taut nipple. Heat pooled between her legs.
She tugged at the waist of his denims, even as he kissed her hungrily and ran his hands over her bare torso.
“Too many clothes,” he murmured. “All those skirts, all those petticoats.”
“What about you? You’re wearing too many clothes, too.” She tugged again at his denims. “Please, get rid of these.”
Ben unfastened his trousers and pushed them down over his hips. Slowly, he loosened his drawers and pushed them downward too, Emily gazed upon him in wonderment. A veritable spear, indeed! His manhood jutted proudly from the thatch of russet curls at his groin. Huge. Powerful. Wondrous. Delightful.
Tonight she meant to do more than look. She wanted to explore fully, touching, tasting, learning how to please. Reaching out, she took him in her hands, then ran her fingers over the length of him, from the base to the tip where a pearlescent drop of moisture glistened.
Ben grabbed her hand. “Emily…”
“It’s time, isn’t it?” She closed her eyes. “We’ve always known we’re meant to be together, meant to be lovers.” Now she opened her eyes and drew a deep breath. “I thought I came here to tease, to play, to explore. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
“Are you saying you want to make love?”
In response, she lowered her gaze and touched his bare chest in a lingering caress. Her hand continued its downward exploration, over the taut skin of his hard body.
Ben pulled her against him. Their bodies melded together, as if fused by fire burning between them. Passion flared within her. His mouth found hers, claimed it, and in that moment she knew the time had come.
“Yes, Ben, please,” she whispered. “Make love to me.” Never had she wanted anything more.
He carried her back to the bed. She gazed up at him. His mouth found her breasts, his tongue her nipples, sucking first at one then at the other until Emily feared she would burst from the sheer need of him.
“Please, Ben, please…” she cried out.
He loomed over her, passion gleaming in his golden eyes. Gently he bent and kissed her lips as he unfastened her skirt. She writhed across the bed, fighting to free herself from the yards of long skirts and endless layers of petticoats.
At last, they lay together naked atop the bed. Ben kissed her as he nudged her thighs apart with a knee. The kiss continued as he pressed the tip of his erection against her.
Bracing herself for the pain she knew would come, Emily flung her arms around his neck. The slick head of his swollen shaft glided between her wet folds. She spread her legs slightly more. Ben groaned, pulled away from her, and cried out as he lost control once more. A shudder wracked his body. He moaned again then collapsed onto the bed beside her.
“I’m sorry, Em, so sorry.” Red-faced, he looked away.
“Sorry about what?” she asked, sitting up and stroking his hair. “Are you sorry for loving me?”
“I’m sorry I’m not man enough, don’t you understand? Every time I see you, every time I touch you…” He shook his head. “I lose control. I wanted to make love to you, to make this a night you’d always remember.” He laughed softly, but it held a bitter note. “I suppose you will remember this forever. You’ll remember how inadequate I am.”
“Don’t say such things, Ben,” she scolded. “Yes, I’ll remember tonight, and each time I do, I’ll smile to think of the pleasure I gave you. Maybe it wasn’t the right time yet. We know the time will come.” She leaned forward and kissed the corners of his down-turned mouth. “We’ll just have to practice a little more.”
* * * *
Ben lay on the bunk, suffering from feelings of inadequacy and outright humiliation. A fine stud he’d turned out to be. He swallowed back another wave of embarrassment. Emily hadn’t appeared upset, for which he was grateful, but all the same, his inability to successfully perform the act left him doubting himself. Was there something wrong with him? Or, if he and Emily practiced lovemaking more often, would he learn to control himself?
Despite his discomfiture, he couldn’t take his eyes off Emily as she moved slowly about the room, picking up all those clothes. Good Lord but there were a lot of them!
That was the cause of his debacle, Ben reasoned. It took too long to get a woman undressed. How was he supposed to wait? Were there tricks a man could use? Secrets to slowing down that rush of desire? He wished he could talk to someone about it, but knew he’d be far too humiliated.
“There will be other times, won’t there?” Emily took hold of his hand. “Please say there will be, Ben.” She now stood fully dressed before him, only slightly disheveled. As she spoke, she reached up and pinned her hair back into place. To look at her, no one would ever guess—
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as the heavy gong outside the bunkhouse sounded. Footsteps ran past the building, and a chorus of shouts rose up outside the walls. An eerie orange-hued light flickered through the small panes of glass. Ben shot off the bed, grabbed his denims and boots, and exchanged glances with Emily. Her face held a look of horror.
“What’s happening, Ben?”
Knocking sounded aga
inst the wall. “The barn’s on fire!”
Ben grabbed a shirt, shrugged it on, and rushed toward the door. “Get out of here,” he called over his shoulder. “Get inside the house. Make sure Lucille and the girls are all right. Check on Della, too,” he added. “All of you need to stay inside.”
* * * *
For a moment, maybe longer, Emily stood amidst the noise and confusion, unable to think, unable to cry out, unable to move. Frightened by the flames leaping into the night air, the horses stamped and whinnied, pressing against the wooden rails of the corral in their panic to escape. Hot sparks and burning embers flew from the blazing barn.
She fought back her own terror and forced herself to turn toward the house, to pick up her feet, to make her legs work again. As she whirled around, she caught sight of something—no, someone—running through the fields.
“It’s him!” she shouted, but her voice was swallowed up by the clamor around her. In horror, she watched the large shadowy figure of the man disappear over the crest of the hill. The same man who’d picked her up off the street in Sunset when she’d twisted her ankle. The same man Ben had seen traipsing along the creek bank a few days later.
Only a fool would believe it mere coincidence. Maybe she’d harbored a few silly thoughts in her young life. Maybe her thinking had even bordered on the ridiculous at times. Not now. The man—whoever he might be—had deliberately set Tom Henderson’s barn on fire, and Emily suspected he’d probably been responsible for spooking the horses the night the corral gate was opened.
Still staring off into the distance, she wondered again about the big man with the slow look. A harmless sort? Not by a long shot. This man was dangerous.
As the smoke and fire whipped around her, Emily covered her mouth and raced across the yard to the safety of the farmhouse. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Della and stopped short, shocked by the satisfied smile upon her face. Obviously the events of the night had not caused any distress to the pretty dark-haired girl.
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