by Lily Graison
He carried the bar to his room, laid it on the dresser before stripping off his own clothes. The tub of water he’d just dumped would have been the best option for cleaning himself. He wished he would have thought of it before pouring the water out.
He washed from the pitcher and bowl in his room, lathered, rinsed, and felt halfway human again by the time he was finished. He turned away from the water bowl, Grace’s soap still on his dresser. He lifted it, inhaled its scent again, her image filling his mind’s eye.
If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget the way she looked when he’d walked through the back door. The shock on her face, the way the moonlight caught the water droplets on her skin and made them sparkle like small jewels dotting her flesh. He laid the soap down and ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
What the hell was he supposed to do about her?
He crawled into bed, the answer to his pondered question unanswered.
His plan to annoy her so she’d avoid him worked to a certain degree and he wondered if seeing her naked hadn’t done more for him than his curt manner. Surely she would be furious with him for walking in on her—most women would be—and he hoped avoiding him would be a priority for her.
As much as he wanted the distance, a small part of him dreaded it just the same. Some tiny fraction of his soul sought her out, searched for her through the windows during the day when he walked past the house and on the rare occasions he spotted her, his pulse raced and he smiled for no damn reason.
Seeing her standing there with water glistening on her naked flesh would fuel his dreams for weeks to come. Even if she never spoke to him again, he’d have that memory. A memory of a woman, for once, he wasn’t loathed to remember.
He closed his eyes, Grace’s image filling his mind and he let her linger instead of pushing her away. He forgot all the heartache he’d suffered and imaged her as the only one. That he was fourteen again and it was Grace who caught his attention, not Maggie. He imagined her smiling at him, ignoring the fact he wasn’t the only boy in town who liked her. And instead of her telling him she was sorry, that she loved someone else, she stayed by his side instead.
Rolling over, Rafe let the images fade away and willed his heart to not give in. To not get involved again. Not with Grace, not with anyone, regardless of how much he longed for the sweet touch a woman. If he’d learned anything over the last ten years it was that the heart could lie better then any woman could and when it came to love, he was better off without it.
He’d been burned twice now, lied to and made a fool of, and he wasn’t about to let Grace do the same thing. As much as he wanted her, he’d keep her at a distance. It was the only way he knew of to keep his sanity. His heart wouldn’t survive another blow and he’d be dammed if he let another woman have what was left of it
Chapter Nine
Grace wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and sighed as she looked out the window. She didn’t realize she had an audience until she turned from the sink and found Rafe leaning against the doorframe of the small room off the kitchen. She met his gaze, blushed, then ignored him.
She was still flustered after him walking in on her bath and every time her pulse leaped thinking of it, she got angry. It was irrational, really, that anger. She had no reason to be upset with him but her embarrassment over the situation, and the naughty thoughts the incident aroused, caused her body to flush hot and she had to channel that mortification somewhere. It might as well go back to the source of it all. To Rafe and his secret smiles. To his heavy-lidded eyes as they took her in as if she’d been displayed for his enjoyment.
The leering glances he’d given her had caused thoughts no proper lady should have to plague her with dreams so erotic she’d been achy in places she didn’t even know could ache. She’d spent the night tossing and turning and woke restless and ill-tempered because of it. When she remembered his rude behavior toward her for the last week, the anger intensified.
It wasn’t as if the man ever went out of his way to make her feel at home. Most of the time, he said nothing to her at all. But when he did, it wasn’t as much what he said, as the way he’d said it. His words were gruff and hateful. As if her very presence was a nuisance. Well, that is until she stood naked before him dripping water all over the kitchen floor. That hadn’t bothered him at all.
Filling the coffee pot with grounds, she set it on the stove and checked the oven. The biscuits were almost done. She had half a mind to burn them. Rafe devoured them when she set them on the table in front of him. If it weren’t for Jesse, she would have done just that.
When she stood and turned to the table, he was there. Standing by his chair staring at her. She hadn’t heard him cross the room and was in no mood to talk to him.
“What are you doing here?”
As if he didn’t know. “Making breakfast. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“I meant what are you doing here, in my house, cooking breakfast for me?”
She picked up the plates, setting them in front of each of their chairs. “I’m not cooking breakfast for you, Rafe. I’m cooking it for Jesse. You just happen to live here with him.”
He was quiet for long minutes and Grace pretended he wasn’t there. She felt her face heat every time she looked at him. Remembering him standing there staring at her last night was mortifying regardless of how her body ignited at the mere thought of him seeing her naked. His knowing smile only made it worse.
She continued to cook, glanced out the window to see if the sun had started to come up yet, and turned back to the stove when the water in the coffee pot started to boil over. She lifted it off and set it on the table.
Rafe was still there. Still staring at her.
Pursing her lips, she stared up at him. “What is it you would like to know, Mr. Samuels? I don’t have time for this but since you insist on staring a hole through my head, lets have this out.”
He had the nerve to smile at her. The ass.
“Why are you in Willow Creek, Grace?”
“I thought the answer to that was obvious. I came to be married.”
“Yeah and yet you’re still here.”
She huffed out a breath and turned back to the stove, looking in on her biscuits. “Yes, I am. My bridegroom is here.”
He laughed, the sound skating along her flesh until goose bumps pimpled her skin. “Your groom is a fourteen year old boy, in case you’ve forgotten. You can’t expect me to believe you’re going to marry him. I’m a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”
“And what would you have me do?” she asked, turning to look at him. “I traveled a very long way, alone, I might add, with the purpose of marrying. I have no money for a return trip so unless you’re willing to pay for the multiple trains and stagecoaches my departure would require in order for me to return to Boston, then I’m stuck.”
He stared at her, his head tilted to one side. She watched him for long moments before turning back to the stove. “I can assure you I’m not nearly as desperate as I seem.” She placed the food dishes on the table, avoiding eye contact. “If my presence here is a burden, I’m sure I could find a suitable husband here in Willow Creek. My only reluctance in doing so is Jesse. I don’t want to hurt him. Regardless of how it seems to you, I do realize he’s too young.”
“There isn’t a man within a hundred miles of Willow Creek suitable for you.”
Grace wasn’t sure what he meant by that. The look on his face told her nothing. “According to you, you mean?”
He shrugged and grinned at her. “I know everyone in town. They’re all farmers, ranchers or drunks. There isn’t a man here who could deal with a woman like you.”
A woman like her? “What is that supposed to mean?”
Pulling his chair out, he turned it, straddling the seat and crossed his arms over the back. “Well, for starters, no one in this town can keep you in those fancy dresses you’re so fond of wearing. Well, no one but the Avery’s but they’re all married now
.”
Grace looked down at her dress. It was the least embellished of all she owned. The brown sateen material was wrinkled from being stuffed inside her trunk for so long but there weren’t any ruffles on it. It was quite plain compared to her other dresses. Of course, she realized it wasn’t what one would wear for heavy work around the house but she had little choice in the matter. All of her dresses were nice. Her father made sure she wore the latest fashions and she’d indulged every time he sent the seamstress to their house.
Forcing herself to look up at him, she resisted the temptation to smooth the material of her dress. “I don’t require dresses like this. I have plenty now.”
He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. “Then I guess no one has to worry about being rich to have you.” He studied her, his gaze roaming her face before lowering to her breasts. “That’s good because all a man requires of a wife is someone to keep his home clean, cook his meals, and warm his bed at night. She doesn’t have to be lavishly dressed to do that. Most would prefer you as I saw you last night.”
His blatant stare, and the grin on his face, caused Grace’s face to heat again. She was blushing, damn his eyes! When he lifted his gaze back to her face, the knowing look he gave her heated her skin again and caused her stomach to clench. “You willing to let just any ole’ saddle bum in town into your bed, Grace? To make love to you and sire his children with you?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned away. She took her biscuits out of the oven without even checking to see if they were done. His question rattled in her head long after he’d gone outside.
The entire conversation repeated in slow motion again and again and she wasn‘t sure what his intent was. Did he want her to leave? Did her being here upset him in some way? She discarded that idea the moment she thought it. She’d caught him staring at her too many times to believe that. The way he looked at her last night caused things low in her stomach to clench, caused her breasts to ache when his gaze lingered there.
Did the thought of her marrying Jesse anger him? Or was it that she would marry another man at all? She cast the thought away. Why would he care? He’d been downright churlish with her on most occasions. She couldn’t remember a kind word he’d said to her since laying eyes on him back at the stagecoach station. He wasn’t friendly. He hadn’t even thanked her for all the things she’d done for him. For anything really. From almost every angle she looked, it would appear Rafe Samuels had a passing interest toward her and that was only when she’d been stripped bare and standing before him like some Greek goddess offering herself to him.
So why did her stomach clench in anticipation every time she laid eyes on him?
Sighing, she set the rest of the food on the table and tried to put him out of her mind. She’d never understand him anyway and honestly, she didn’t want to. He was a miserable person and living in the same house with him would be pure torture but she had no other choice.
She should have married someone in Boston like her friends begged her to do but her sense of adventure was her undoing. Just as her father always said it would be.
Hearing the wind whistle against the house, she peered out the window toward the barn, trying to remember if Rafe had put his coat on. A glance at the peg by the door showed it gone. At least he wouldn’t freeze.
Not that she cared, she reminded herself.
Jesse entered the room moments later, making his way to the table. He was dragging his feet and wiping his eyes with one hand. He looked so young then. His hair was rumpled, his shirt buttoned wrong, and she realized she liked mothering him more than the thought of being a wife to him.
When he took his seat and looked up at her, she smiled and grabbed his plate. “Good morning, Jesse. I have flapjacks, bacon and home made biscuits for you this morning.”
He threw her a lopsided smile and looked at his plate when she set it down in front of him. “Thanks.” He didn’t wait for Rafe and had consumed four of the flapjacks before the back door opened and Rafe walked inside.
Grace grabbed his plate, filled it and set it on the table harder than she should have. She ignored him when he glanced her way, looking up at Jesse instead. “I need some things from town, Jesse. You’re running low on flour and sugar and a few other items.”
Jesse looked up, his mouth full. He glanced at Rafe before turning his attention back to her. He swallowed the food in his mouth and said, “I can take ya. We have an account at the mercantile.”
She smiled and nodded. “Once I have the breakfast dishes washed up I’ll get ready. That will give you time to get started on your chores.”
Rafe reached for another biscuit and buttered it before looking at Jesse. “We have to ride the fence line today so don’t dally in town longer than you have to.”
Jesse threw him a peeved look. “You don’t need me to ride a fence line with you. It only takes one set of eyes to see if there’s a breech in it.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to muck out the stalls in the barn while I’m riding over the range.”
“I can’t go to town smelling like horseshit. You have time to do it before you go check the fence.”
The look of Rafe’s face scared her. Grace didn’t really blame him for being upset, not with Jesse having an excuse for everything, so she felt compelled to intervene. “We can go to town tomorrow, if that would be better for you.”
“No…”
“Yes…”
Rafe and Jesse both answered at the same time. Jesse glared at Rafe before looking back at her. “I’ll take you to town today. Rafe don’t need no help. He just likes ordering me around is all.”
Grace could tell Rafe wanted to say something but he didn’t. No one said anything after that and she was glad for it. She still couldn’t bring herself to look at Rafe but when he left, she glanced out the window at him and wondered what she’d done to cause his dislike of her.
She couldn’t recall a thing she may have said to upset him. Surely he wasn’t so angry at Jesse for bringing her out here that he would take it out on her as well. Then again, maybe he was. She certainly didn’t know anything about him other than the fact he was far too pleasing to look at and her pulse leaped whenever he was near. Other than that, Rafe Samuels was an enigma. One she didn’t think he’d ever give her the chance to figure out. With his hot and cold attitude toward her, she wondered why she even wanted to.
She was wearing pink and green stripes. The moment Rafe stepped out of the barn, the sight of her halted his steps. He could do nothing but stare.
The dress was an eye catcher and the hat sitting on her head looked like it had a bird’s nest perched on one side, complete with feathers and a thin gauzy veil. Her golden hair was pulled into some fancy concoction with ringlets falling down her back and she carried a little umbrella embellished with lace.
Tugging on a small pair of gloves, she turned her head, giving him a look that said she was used to men gawking at her. He could see why they did. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so ridiculously gaudy and tantalizing as her in his entire life.
He watched her cross the yard, her head held high and her breasts jutting out so temptingly in the tight fitting bodice his cock took notice moments after his brain did. Visions of her butt ass naked and sprinkled with water droplets screeched across his brain and all the blood in his body headed south as he stared at her.
She certainly didn’t belong in Willow Creek. Hell she didn’t belong anywhere near Montana. She was a city lady through and through. One glance at her told you that.
He watched Jesse run around the old buckboard to help her up, offering her a hand and grinning like an idiot. He wondered how the kid was going to handle the trip into town alone. He didn’t like driving the wagon. Ever since he’d lost control of the horses a few months back and ended up face down in a ditch with the buckboard on top of him he’d shied away from it. Maybe that was why he always had that old mule to pull the wagon now.
When Grace
was seated, her skirts filling the seat, Jesse checked the cinches on the mule before climbing up and taking the seat beside of her. He was still grinning as he grabbed the reins and gave them a light flick to get the animal moving. When they neared the fence, Grace looked back over her shoulder at him. The moment his gaze locked with hers, every word he’d ever said to her came back in an instant. He regretted most of them.
He turned and walked back into the barn, grabbing the shovel and entering the stall the mule had been in. It was Jesse’s job to shovel out the stalls, but, like most days, his brother had other things to do. Today, it was escorting his wife to town.
The very notion of Grace being married burned like acid in Rafe’s stomach. He couldn’t imagine her being any man’s wife. There wasn’t one around who was good enough for her, that included himself.
He’d lain awake most of the night thinking of her, his cock at attention and no way to relieve it that would leave him sated and satisfied. The only way he would accomplish that was to bury himself so deep inside of her he wouldn’t be able to tell where she started and he ended.
He regretted speaking to her the way he did but he wasn’t sure how to treat her. If he was honest with himself he knew exactly how he wanted to treat her. Like a woman he had half a chance of making his, but that would never happen. He wasn’t about to risk his heart again and he could only imagine what Jesse would say if he did. Not to mention Grace. He’d probably be the last man she’d ever consider as a proper suitor anyway.
It didn’t make the prospect any less appealing, though. Grace was certainly the kind of woman a man would love to have for a wife. Beautiful, strong willed and brave. She had to be to have traveled so great a distance alone.
When the stall was clean, he wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt and looked toward the house. It was still a sight. The grass had died ages ago and the railing on the porch was all but rotten. He’d been meaning to fix it but hadn’t gotten around to it yet. With winter coming on, he didn’t see himself finding the time. There was too much to do yet before the snows came but with Grace here, he wanted to make the time. He didn’t want her living like this. In a rundown house that was drafty and just plain ugly to look at. She deserved better. Better than anything he could give her.