Western Kisses – Old West Christmas Romances (Boxed Set)

by Carré White

  "Making love, my beautiful bride, that is what we're doing."

  He stood up and she watched the light of the lantern soften his face. He keep his eyes locked on hers and he slowly undid his shirt, slipping it off. Her eyes drifted down and widened.

  He had strong, wide shoulders and a rippling stomach with a smattering of hair that led her eyes lower. He chuckled and her eyes flung up to his. She could feel the heat flowing through her body, and it drowned out the embarrassment. He was so much more handsome than Albert and she desperately wanted to run her hands over his body.

  He loosened his trousers and she gulped, her eyes getting a little panicky. He moved back over to her and sat her up. He slipped behind her and pressed her soft body against his hard chest, tucking them under the covers. He stroked her as he had before, letting her relax into his touch and revel in the warmth he exuded. She had never been so close to a man before, and the sensations were overwhelming.

  As he moved his hands over her body, he gradually eased her nightgown up. She felt safe, with the covers over her, but the slight roughness of his hands against the soft flesh of her thighs had her panting, her hands clutching his knees. He let his hands drift up her sides, under her gown, barely grazing the sides of her breasts. When she let out a low moan, he shifted, to fully capture her round heaviness that filled his hands. She leaned into his hands, as he slipped the gown off her, and settled her back against his chest, skin against skin.

  She gasped and he wrapped his arms around her. Jonathan leaned forward and nibbled on her ear, sending tendrils of desire snaking through her body. He moved his hands, one resting on a breast, rolling a hardened nipple between his fingers, the other drifting between her legs. She gasped as he reached the apex of her thighs and he gave her a moment to get used to his touch. He finally slid further down, parted her downy fur and slid between her delicate folds.

  She gasped and said, "Oh, that's...it's never been like that, I'm wet down there."

  He laughed softly against her neck, capturing the hard nubbin in her soft folds under a swirling finger, and said, "That's good, your supposed to be like that. It means your body likes it." She shook against him, reveling in the ecstasy, and he said, "but I want you to like it, Heloise. Does this feel good?" He took his time as she nodded, and said, "Yes, it feels really good. It's overwhelming. Wonderful." He slowly sunk a finger into her untried entrance and she bucked against his hand. He paused, giving her body time to get used to the unfamiliar intrusion, listening to her gasps of pleasure. He slowly slid in and out, following the lead of her body. When he felt she was ready, he slowly slid a second finger in. She took a sharp breath in at the twinge of pain and he stopped, only letting his thumb circle her hard nub.

  "I know, I'm trying so hard to make this right for you. You know there will be some pain."

  She nodded against him and whispered, "I know, it doesn't really hurt, just at first, it was sharp. But it's, it's just intimate."

  He lingered at her neck, suckling while his fingers delved into her slick heat. When he felt her lose herself to the overwhelming sensations, he shifted them, quickly. She opened her eyes, shocked to find herself under him, her legs spread and the rough fabric of his trousers against her flesh. He held himself above her and slowly ground his hips against hers, smiling as her eyes lost focus. He shifted, and used one hand to ease his trousers down, his cock springing free. He rubbed it up and down her sweet warmth, wanting nothing more than to sink into her waiting core, but he wanted this to be right for her. He knew that this encounter would set the tone for the rest of their lives together.

  Heloise moaned, and reveled in the wanton feeling of him nestled between her legs. She could feel his manhood and knew what must surely come next. A nervous titter escaped her. It felt so much larger than his fingers, and if they had stung, these was sure to be worse.

  Jonathan heard her and slowed down. He lowered himself slightly, and used one hand to circle around her nubbin, finally finding a pattern of movement that made her forget her fears and embarrassment and to writhe against him. Her little pants and moans drove him on, until he felt her start to peak, and as she shrieked her passion he slid into her, quickly dispatching her maidenhead. She cried out and exploded around him. He could feel her sheath clench him as she kept moving, slipping him back and forth, lost in her moment and the intense sensations, and he and he couldn't hold back any longer and merged with her one last time as he spilled his seed into her. He collapsed, took her in his arms, and rolled them on their side.

  She clung to him and shook, and finally said, "What happened?"

  Jonathan smiled to himself and said, "That was you finding your pleasure. Thank you for sharing that with me."

  She giggled as he slid out of her, the embarrassment catching up to her.

  "That wasn't very dignified, was it."

  He shifted her so he could wrap his arms around her, her back to his chest.

  "No, dear Heloise. Not dignified at all."

  She snuggled back into him, sleep sweeping over her and said, "I don't think I mind being undignified with you," and fell asleep in her husband's arm, secure and confident.

  Chapter Three

  Late Fall

  Heloise stood in front of the stove and pulled out the piping hot loaf of bread. She couldn't help but beam at it. It was the first loaf she'd successfully made on her own, and it looked perfect. She still had a tendency to burn things, but Elijah made sure there was always a pot of chili on the back burner, and Heloise wasn't allowed to touch it. She could make her own versions, but while the men had been very stoic about her various cooking experiments, that rule had been firmly established after one particularly bad dinner.

  She set it to cool on the table, and looked around the room with pleasure. She'd brought in a nice little selection of squashes from the garden, and enjoyed the splash of color they brought to the room. Elijah's stew happily bubbled away on the back on the stove, so even if the roast didn't, they wouldn't be reduced to eating bread and drippings again.

  She let herself relax on a chair for a moment, cataloging what still needed to be done. Just about everything was put up in the root cellar, so she could just harvest what would grow until the frost came. She grimaced at the thought of needing to harvest the potatoes. She rubbed her roughened hands, the evidence of her new life worn hard on them. She laughed to herself, hoping that as fall faded, the work on the farm would calm, and they would soften, a little. Not too much, because spring would come too soon, and she didn't want to go through the awful blisters again.

  She frowned as she realized she would need to churn butter soon. She sighed and felt a little sorry for herself. It's one thing to think something was going to be a lot of work, it was another to be in the midst of it, and seeing an unending stream of hard work flowing in front of her.

  Still, she was proud, she was adapting. She was already better and faster than when she first arrived, and could do more and more on the farm. She knew she wasn't a burden, that she made life easier for Jonathan. She was glad the harvest was in, though, that was not something she enjoyed. Those awful early mornings, taking over the milking so the men could beat the weather.

  She let the quiet moment relax around her, until she heard the scraping of the men's boots on the porch, and she popped up off the chair, whisked her apron off and patted her hair into place. She blushed at her vanity, but Jonathan was very appreciative and she enjoyed his attentions.

  Elijah walked in first, took one look at the golden, brown and delicious loaf of bread resting on the table, spun Heloise into a rough hug and said, "That looks perfect! Who on earth could have made it? Did Jonathan sneak back? That rascal."

  She laughed as he set her back down and said, "That, Elijah, is the proof that your lessons have not been in vain! And smell that! Do you smell that?"

  Jonathan laughed as Elijah took a comically big whiff, plopped in a chair, slapped his knee, and said, "By gum, girl, I smell nothing but a delicious dinner!"


  Jonathan leaned over and gave her a gentle hug and buss on the cheek, and she melted into him. All the hard work was worth it, for his gentle regard.

  "Gentlemen, if you will sit down, I believe I have a delightful repast in store for you."

  They all sat down to a meal made entirely by Heloise, and at the end, Elijah leaned back, gave a yeasty belch, sighed and said, "'Scuse me, but that was delightful. I admit, I thought we were never going to have anything but stew and biscuits again."

  She shrugged ruefully, and said, "You aren't the only one! Those cookbooks are not especially enlightening."

  Jonathan wiped his lips, smiled at Heloise and said, "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

  Heloise started to blank her face, her automatic defense going up, but dropped it quickly at Jonathan's raised eyebrow and said, confidently, "Well, the only thing left in the garden is the potatoes. I thought I'd get them up in the cellar."

  He smiled and said, "Well, Elijah and I can help, after we get the animals done in the morning. Let's make short work of it, and have a treat."

  Heloise leaned forward, her eyes sparkling and said, "Oh, a treat? What do you have in mind?"

  "Well, you've been working like a fiend, and haven't been into town for ages, and Matt dropped by earlier, said they were going to have a little harvest fair in town tomorrow."

  Heloise grinned at the men and said, "Humph, those potatoes will hold. We are going into town as soon as the animals are done up, and we're all cleaned up!" She was not missing any moment of a gathering for potatoes that would hold for another day.

  The men laughed, and Jonathan started gathering the plates. He said, "Go get the water on in the back, I'd like a hot bath tonight." His eyes twinkled at her and she blushed to her roots.

  Elijah chortled, said, "Well, I know when I'm an extra hand," and headed out of the house.

  She looked at Jonathan, elbows deep in the dishes, sighed happily and headed to the back of the house.

  Chapter Four

  Winter

  Winter had fallen, fast and hard. Winters were cold in Massachusetts, but nothing like the fierce blizzard rushing into the valley, and Heloise couldn't see past the window. She flitted nervously, keeping coffee hot on the stove, waiting for the men to reappear from the barn.

  She knew Elijah had set a rope between the house and the barn, and the animals had all been safely inside when the storm struck, but still, every storm that blazed through pinged at her nerves. At first the short days and long nights had been a relief, but now she just wanted to go home, back east. She missed Anna's company, and she had tired of knitting quietly at the fireplace.

  And then, as quickly as it had blown up, the storm ended. She poked her nose out of the house and to her delight, the blustery storm had actually cleared things substantially. She bundled herself up tight, and ran into the yard. She'd been wanting to decorate a little for Christmas. She trimmed one of the evergreens for garland, and brought it into the house, happily decorating the parlor mantle and enjoying the crisp, clean smell of the greenery.

  The men came stomping up the porch steps and she ushered them inside.

  "Why were you out? Letting all the heat out? Don't you think?" Jonathan's words hit her like gunfire, and her lips tightened. She walked into the kitchen and poured them hot coffee, handing it to them. "You need to be more thoughtful, we're going through wood fast."

  Heloise took a deep breathe and blanked her face. She was hemmed into the house. Jonathan never letting her stick her nose out, and she was getting, for the first time in her life, absolutely furious.

  Elijah plopped into a chair and said, "Leave her be, Jonathan, we're fine with wood."

  She tried to be calm, but her words had far more edge than usual and she said, "Food should be ready soon."

  Jonathan slammed his cup down, and said, "We're cold and hungry and you have nothing to offer us?" Elijah reached up to grab Jonathan's arm, but he shook him off. "What have you been doing all day?"

  Heloise went ice cold, and glared at him. "Elijah, it should be ready shortly. Help yourself. There is pie as well." She turned on her heel and strode out of the room, faintly hearing Elijah ordering Jonathan to sit down.

  She tore through the bedroom, layering herself in warm clothes, thankful that she had managed to knit so many wool leggings. By now, she knew the weather as well as the men, and knew it would be calm for a while. More than enough time for her to get to town.

  She paused, long enough for some thought for Elijah to slip in. Heloise pulled out paper and her inkwell, hastily scrawling a note to Elijah as to her intentions, folded it over and wrote his name on the outside. If Elijah saw fit, he could tell Jonathan were she was.

  She threw the note on the parlor floor, and then she slipped out the back door, not wanting another confrontation with the angry Jonathan, and went quickly to the barn. She readied her favorite horse, a lovely little sorrel mare named Celie. She quickly saddled the horse, and even in her anger, enjoyed how easy she found it. She led the horse outside and closed up the stable. She was glad there was a mounting block, so it was very easy to mount and head out. They moved as one, quietly past the house, not wanting to rouse the men. She gave the mare her head and raced over the snow, the speed intoxicating and soothing her as they thundered towards town.

  ~*~

  Elijah glared at Jonathan, and said, "You goddamn idiot." Jonathan glared back, but couldn't keep the man's gaze, and dropped his eyes to the table.

  Finally, he dropped his head into his hands, and said, "I am an idiot. I just, I'm so tense and worried. Is it always like this, out here? It would be so easy for her to be hurt, by herself."

  Elijah leaned back in his chair, sucked at his teeth and said, "Whelp, yes, kind of. Life is dangerous, Jonathan. You can't wrap her up in wool cotton and expect to keep her happy. You've been pretty hard on her lately. What did she do today? She made us pie! And she must have been out and about for a reason."

  Jonathan looked up, sighed and said, "Well, what do I do?"

  Elijah rolled his eyes and said, "You great fool, you go up to the bedroom and you get down on your knees and you beg her for forgiveness. And then you give her a reason to have a smile on her face, if you get my meaning." He gave Jonathan a long, knowing nod. "And I'll eat the pie."

  Jonathan clapped him on the shoulder, laughing and headed back to the bedroom. Elijah, curious, walked to the parlor. He'd seen her in the window, bustling about. He walked in and couldn't help but smile. There were swags of garland, gracing every surface, and she'd clearly sacrificed a great deal of ribbon for all the sweet little bows. A bit of a tear rose in his eye, as he remembered holidays past, with his sweet Clarabelle. He hadn't had the heart to do much for the holidays after she was gone.

  He finally looked down, and saw the note, with his name scrawled on it. He picked it up and read it, and sighed as Jonathan came racing into the room, his eyes wild.

  "She's gone, Elijah. She's not in the house!"

  Elijah grabbed the panicking man's hand, smacked it, hard, and said, "Just found a note. She said she was heading into town, staying at the hotel overnight." Jonathan turned, heading for the door, when his uncle grabbed him back, and said, "Think man. You want her to come home?"

  Jonathan got a mulish look on his face and said, "She's my wife, she has to come back."

  "Jonathan, you'll never get another good meal again if you just throw her over your shoulder. She's mad at you, and you deserve it. Give her a reason to come back. And...look around you." Jonathan finally looked up and took in her simple decorations. "It's Christmas Eve, tomorrow. She went out because she wanted us, no you, to have a beautiful home for the holidays."

  "But Elijah, she could get stuck, I didn't hear the wagon, she could be anywhere."

  "She'll have taken Celie. She loves riding and is damn good. She's as likely to run into trouble as you or I. No. I have a plan. First, we'll give her time to get to the hotel, settled in."

  ~*~<
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  Heloise slipped out of the bath, her temper finally cooled. She knew she was lucky that they had such a nice hotel in town. She toweled off, and slipped into the robe they provided. She'd been in such a state when she left, she hadn't entirely been thinking of what she would wear. Luckily, it was fairly common for people to take advantage of the hotel for a much nicer bathing experience than most people could have on their farms.

  She sat at the vanity, untangling her hair with a comb, tears slipping down her face. She'd gotten used to Jonathan brushing her hair every night, and missed the tender intimacy. He'd been so snappish and just plain mean lately, but no matter what, he had always brushed her hair.

  She finally just rested her head and gave into another bout of weeping. She couldn't take it anymore, she was starting to hate the farm and the endless toil. For what? For Jonathan to criticize her every move? She'd worked so hard to be an asset to the farm, but lately, her confidence had taken a real blow. She just wanted their first Christmas together to be, well, magical. Or at least happy. Her heart ached when she thought of the rift between them and sat up with a shock.

  She loved him. It wouldn't hurt so bad if she didn't love him. It was miles above anything she'd felt about Albert. That was a dull ache that quickly went away, and this was a fierce pain that threatened to consume her. What was she going to do? To crawl back to him, that may hurt her pride, but meant at least her heart might not completely break. To leave would salve her pride, and devastate her heart.