His Brother's Wife

by Lily Graison

  She barely heard the marshal make his excuses before he left, she was so absorbed in what Holden was saying. If he himself wasn’t available, surely he knew of a man in town who would be willing to marry her.

  They talked for long minutes, the bell over the door tinkling numerous times as Holden gave her the name of every unmarried man in town, one of them turning away from the counter as they spoke. Holden said his name, motioned him over and Grace could only stare.

  The man crossed the room and stopped a few feet away. He was tall with a head full of hair in serious need of barbering. The strands hung past his shoulders and obscured most of his face. His clothes were decent, black gloves covered his hands, but it was the grizzled beard hiding the majority of his face that caught her attention. She could see a nasty looking scar near his eye, the white jagged line disappearing into his beard. When he caught her staring, he tilted his head, all that hair falling to hide the side of his face.

  “Noah Lloyd, I’d like to introduce you to Ms. Grace Kingston.” Holden glanced her way again.

  Grace smiled in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Lloyd.”

  He didn’t reply. He stared at her for a few moments before turning his attention back to Holden and raising one eyebrow.

  “Ms. Kingston is looking for a husband,” Holden told him. “Seems she’s ran into a bit of trouble with the one she came out here for.”

  “I don’t want a wife.” Noah Lloyd had the voice of a man who didn’t speak much. The sound was harsh and scratchy. He also lacked in social skills. He turned, making his way back to the counter without another word.

  Grace stared at his retreating back before shaking her head. “He’s not a friendly sort, is he?”

  Holden grinned. “He’s a good man. Life’s just weighed him down since the war.

  “I see.” Grace watched him pick up a box Mrs. Jenkins set on the counter and leave the store. Unmarried or not, she couldn’t make a man marry her, regardless of how obvious it was he needed a wife. She turned her attention back to Holden when he began talking again.

  By the time Grace had decided to wait for the new doctor Holden mentioned was to arrive soon, she was grabbed around the waist, turned, and hauled over someone’s shoulder so fast, she could do nothing but hang there, upside-down, and try to catch her breath.

  When she realized it was Rafe’s shoulder she was flung over, her anger returned. “Rafe Samuels, you put me down this instant!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rafe did as she requested by plopping her onto the seat of the wagon. He climbed in behind her and grabbed the reins, flicking them to get the mule moving and was headed out of town by the time Grace had even caught her breath.

  The road was unbearable to ride on at a slow pace with its ruts and washed out holes but at the speed Rafe was going, Grace was being bounced from one end of the seat to the other. She grabbed onto the side rail and braced her feet on the foot board in front of her. “Rafe, slow down! What in the world is wrong with you?”

  He said nothing, just kept flicking those reins and causing the mule to go faster. She glanced over at him. His face was a hard mask of stone. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed and the longer the wagon bounded over the road, the angrier Grace got. “Rafe Samuels, stop this wagon this very instant!” He said nothing, just flicked the reins again. Grace huffed out a frustrated breath. “This is ridiculous, Rafe. Stop the wagon and tell me what is wrong.” Again, silence. “Fine. If you won’t stop, then I’ll get out myself.”

  Grace stood, holding on to the side rail. Rafe grabbed her around the waist an instant later and pulled her to him. She gasped, landing sprawled across his lap, his arm banded around her waist.

  The wagon turned then, heading off the road and toward a copse of trees in the distance. When they were sheltered under the shadowy canopy, the wagon stopped.

  One moment Grace was wondering what was happening, the next, Rafe was kissing her. She sat rigidly in his lap, pushing at his shoulders with her hands but his arms held her in place, his mouth working hard and demanding against her own.

  Her body relaxed by degrees until her bones felt insubstantial. When his tongue pushed inside her mouth, she moaned and sank against him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

  She was aware of his hand on her leg, his fingers tickling a path up her thigh, and did little to stop him. The drawstring on her underwear was untied and she gasped, shocked, when his hand plunged into her drawers, finding her most sheltered secrets. “Rafe!”

  He kissed her again, halting her protests, his fingers working inside her slick folds and stars flashed behind her eyelids. Her body felt languid as tingles started racing up her spine. She clung to him, her breasts aching and the mass of nerves he was manipulating with the tip of his finger felt ready to burst. She arched her hips, tilting them upwards toward his hand and moaned into his mouth, sweat breaking out across her skin until she felt feverish.

  His tongue inside her mouth thrust with an intensity that caused her to cling to him tighter. He dipped and plunged, swept it across her teeth before devouring her slowly as his fingers continued to torture her. Her legs started shaking as the tingles increased, heat burning in her belly before it seemed to burst in one soul-shattering moment.

  The world came undone. She screamed as shards of light exploded behind her eyelids. Her body convulsed, Rafe’s deft fingers playing her like an instrument until she was left trembling and panting for breath.

  He cupped her between the legs when she stilled, moving the heel of his hand in a slow grinding movement that sent aftershocks riding every nerve ending in her body. When at last the tremors subsided, Grace cracked open her eyes.

  Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, her fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt. He was kissing a slow path over her face, his breathing as ragged as her own. When the feeling returned to her body, and Grace’s spine felt solid again, she raised her head.

  His hand between her legs stilled. Lust burned brightly in his eyes and she felt the evidence of it against her bottom. He was hard and thick, a slight movement on her part making it more apparent.

  “Stop moving,” he said, closing his eyes while a strained note in his voice made the command sound rough.

  She did. Willed her body to stillness and sat staring at him. When he opened his eyes, he removed his hand from her drawers and out from under her skirts. She said nothing, just sat there staring at him.

  When his breathing returned to normal, he kissed her again. A soft brush of his lips against her own before he deepened it. Grace returned it, her bones once again felt as if they were melting before he pulled away. She didn’t mistake the fire in his eyes when she looked at him.

  His voice was pitched dangerously low as his hold on her tightened. “The next time you think to find a husband in town, woman, I’ll take you over my knee and I can promise you it won’t be as pleasant as it was this time.”

  Grace blinked. What?

  “Holden Avery might know every man in town, Grace, but I’ll be damned if I let that man pick a husband for you. Stay away from him.”

  She sat silent for long minutes, letting his words play over again in her mind.

  Sitting up, she pushed away from him. He didn’t relax his hold or let her move very far. “And what exactly makes you think I’d let Holden Avery pick a husband for me?”

  He grinned but it came off more as a showing of teeth. More feral looking than an actual smile. “Morgan told me you were asking about the unmarried men in town.”

  “So?”

  “So, if anyone is going to marry you, Grace, it’s going to be me.”

  Grace stared at him, dumbfounded. He was going to marry her? She pushed away further and scowled. “Marry me?” She scoffed. “Only yesterday you told me it would never happen. Besides, I don’t remembering saying I’d marry you, Rafe, so don’t go presuming I will.”

  He flashed his teeth again in a mock smile. �
�You already said you’d thought about it. Besides, if that kiss you gave me the other night was any indication, I’d say you’d agree to it without much hesitation.”

  Oh, she remembered the kiss all right and her anger returned hot and aching in her chest. She tried again to push away, fighting him until his hold on her gave way and struggled out of his lap. When she was back on the wagon seat, she flashed him a glare. “Thought about it, yes, but that was before you insulted me and stayed out all night with some prostitute, barely dragged yourself home before the sun came up.”

  He stared at her, his brows lowering. “A prostitute?” He blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Grace turned her back to him best she could and lifted her skirts, retrying her bloomers before covering her legs again. “Don’t play all innocent with me, Rafe Samuels. I know exactly what kind of man you are now and I won’t have it. I don’t want a man who frequents saloons and the girls they keep above stairs.” She looked at him. “You can just forget all about me ever considering you as husband material.”

  The expression on his face was unreadable and it was as she stared at him that she noticed how tired he looked. Dark circles shined like bruises under his eyes. He hadn’t shaved in days and she would bet what money Mrs. Jenkins just gave her for her dresses that he was wearing dirty clothes.

  He raised a hand, rubbing his chin, the scratchy noise his beard made the only sound in the stillness around them. “Why would you think I frequent the Diamondback Saloon?”

  She opened her mouth to answer but closed it. She didn’t know that he did, other than Jesse saying he was likely to be there. But that didn’t make it true. Did it? Could Jesse have just assumed that was where Rafe was or had he purposely lied to her?

  “What?” Rafe asked. “I can tell by the look on your face you’re confused about something.”

  Grace frowned. “When you didn’t come home for supper, Jesse said you were probably in town visiting Ms. Chloe.”

  Rafe had the decency to blush but he didn’t look away. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I may have visited the saloon in the past but I haven’t been there in months.”

  “Oh.” Relief flooded her system. So he hadn’t been at the saloon? Hadn’t been with some faceless woman named Chloe? Her pulse leaped. “Then where were you last night?”

  “Fixin’ the fence near the Crowley place. Took me damn near all night to get it repaired.”

  She didn’t say anything, couldn’t even look at him, then. Was that why he looked so tired? Because he’d been out all day, and half the night, trying to repair a fence by himself in the dark?

  When he placed his hand on her chin and turned her face to his, he was smiling. “Is that why you’ve been so prickly all day? Cause you thought I was with Chloe last night?”

  He looked too pleased about something. The implications of her jealousy, more than likely. She scowled and jerked her head back. “I’m not jealous, Rafe Samuels. I could care less who you crawl into bed with so just wipe that smirk off your face right this instant.”

  His laughter was a wicked, sultry sound. “I didn’t say a thing about you being jealous, Grace, but now that you mention it, it does sound a bit like you are.”

  Grace opened her mouth to tell him how wrong he was but he kissed her before she could get the first word out. She sighed into his mouth, her eyelids falling shut as he cupped the back of her head. His tongue ran along the seam of her mouth and she opened for him, holding back a moan of pleasure when his tongue touched her own.

  This kiss was soft and slow, melting her to the bone as his lips played and tugged at her mouth. His hand settled on her waist, raising a fraction to her ribs and she could feel the heat of it under her breast. She silently begged him to touch her.

  When he pulled away, his breath was hot against her face. “I want you, Grace.” He lifted his hand, cupping the underside of her breast, her nipple hardening at his touch. “Every day I want you. I want to….”

  “Yes.” Grace said, interrupting him mid-sentence.

  He lifted his head to look at her. “Yes what?”

  Grace blinked. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  Rafe sat motionless and stared down at her. “That’s nice to know but Jesse won’t stand for it. The kid already hates me. Besides, truth is, I don’t want to get married.”

  “But you just said if I married anyone, it would be you.”

  He stared at her, not bothering to respond. Silence hung in the air until Grace thought she could touch it. She sat up, moved away from him enough so she could think clearly, and tried to get her muddled thoughts in order while toying with the seam of her skirt. So many questions whispered inside her head and her heart begged her too ask him any one of them. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  Her body still tingled deliciously, tiny zaps of residual pleasure surging through her veins and she didn’t understand how he could he bring her such ecstasy if he didn’t want her always. He’d asked for nothing in return. Denied himself pleasure but gave no indication as to why. The pieces fell into place slowly but when they formed a clear picture in her mind, the realization hit so hard, it nearly stole her breath.

  He didn’t want her the way she wanted him. He just wanted to bed her. That was all. She was good enough to warm his bed but not good enough to marry. Oh, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else do it either.

  She bit back the staggering disappointment and folded her hands into her lap before staring straight ahead. “I didn’t get the money Mrs. Jenkins was going to pay me for my dresses. I need to go back into town and get it.”

  Rafe said nothing. Grace could feel his gaze on her and as much as she wanted to look over at him, she didn’t dare. He picked up the reins and got the mule moving again without a word.

  When they were on the main road heading back into town, she chanced a glance at him. He turned to look at her the exact same moment. Their eyes met for only a second, but it was long enough for Grace to know he’d just been brutally honest with her. Regardless of how much he seemed to want her, he’d never marry her.

  She couldn’t explain the gut-wrenching pain that realization caused. As much as she wanted the ornery man, she knew now he’d never have her. Oh, he may want to bed her, but he didn’t want her forever, and that was a bitter truth she’d have to learn to live with.

  After returning to town to collect her money from Mrs. Jenkins, they made their way back to the ranch. It was well past noon and Grace set a quick meal on the table for them. Surprisingly, no one said a word as they ate and the silence was eerie.

  The morning’s events were still fresh in her mind. The kisses Rafe had given her and the pleasure of his hand on her flesh caused her stomach to clench in memory. Her cheeks felt hot just thinking about it. Her heart hurt knowing he didn’t want her enough to marry her.

  She stared down at her plate, trying to ignore Rafe and Jesse. The man she wanted and the boy who thought she belonged to him.

  How had it come to this? She’d come out west to be married, to start a family and have a little adventure while doing it. All she’d accomplished so far was the adventure. At the rate things were moving, she’d never have the family she wanted and if Jesse wouldn’t give up the notion of her marrying him, she would never be a bride.

  Jesse fidgeted in his seat and Grace raised her gaze to him. He was staring at his plate, fork moving in small circles around his food. He looked troubled by something. Her pulse leaped. Did he know what happened in town? Under the copse of trees?

  Flicking a nervous glance at Rafe was a mistake. The look in his eyes told her he was remembering it, too. She ignored him and returned her attention to Jesse and cleared her throat. “Is something wrong, Jesse?”

  He lifted startled eyes to her. “No. Why?”

  She stared at him for a few moments before shaking her head. “No reason. You just look distracted, is all.”

  “Oh.” He sighed and lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. �
��Just thinking about stuff.”

  “I see.” Grace lifted the small towel she used as a napkin and dotted at her mouth. “What sort of stuff?”

  Jesse threw a quick glance at Rafe and Grace felt her heart stutter and skip a beat. Did he know? She fidgeted in her seat.

  When he didn’t answer, she cleared her throat and said, “I met some new people in town today.” Her voice quivered as she spoke and she hoped she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. When Jesse glanced up at her, she pasted on a smile and lifted her water cup, taking a sip. “Holden Avery and his daughter, Alexandra.”

  Jesse snorted a laugh. “Better not call her that to her face. Alex hates being reminded she’s a girl.”

  Grace smiled back. “Oh, so you know her then?”

  Lifting his fork, he went back to eating. “Yeah. She’s a menace. Thinks she’s a boy.”

  “I got the impression she does.”

  “Its her pa’s fault. He let’s her do what she wants. Well, he did until he married the schoolmarm, Ms. Montgomery.”

  At the mention of Alex’s “pa”, Grace glanced at Rafe. He was staring at her, a look of curiosity in his gaze. She ignored him and turned back to Jesse. “Did you and Alex attend school together?”

  Jesse nodded his head and sighed. “Yeah.”

  That sigh sounded so forlorn, Grace couldn’t let it go. She’d been meaning to have this conversation for days now. Stealing another glance at Rafe, she straightened her spine. “While we’re on the subject of school,” she said, “Why don’t you attend?”

  Time seemed suspended for long minutes as no one moved or spoke. Grace watched as Jesse tried not to look in Rafe’s direction. When he refused to speak, she shifted in her seat to break the silence. “I would think a young man of your age would want to learn all he could. Why, I don’t think there’s a young man in all of Boston that doesn’t attend school of some sort. Most even venture to a University.”

  He didn’t say anything for long moments, just pushed his food around on his plate. When he looked up, she could see defiance blazing in his eyes. “Yeah, well, most of them don’t have a whole ranch to take care of either. They’re mostly just spoiled rich kids who don’t have anything better to do with their time. This ain’t Boston. Life works different out here.”