My Capricious Cowgirl (Willamette Wives Book 4)

by Maggie Ryan

  "But you were strong, Sally," Matthew said softly. "You got Davy out of the barn and covered him with your own body, protecting him during the hail storm. You lost your ma and almost your sister but if you hadn't been there for Davy, you might have lost him as well."

  They sat for several minutes in silence before she gave a small nod. "Thank you. I learned that the land wasn't truly ours. We'd had a few bad years and Tanner had taken loans out against the land. I lost my mother but… well, he lost everything. The crops, the land, the very house his pa had built. All he had left was a few head of cattle. When Clara decided to live with our aunt in Boston, he made the decision that he couldn't rebuild… not in Missouri. He said he'd never farm again, would never count on crops that could be ripped out of the very earth that was supposed to nurture them, to provide a good living for those who toiled in the soil. Instead, he'd raise cattle. There had been several trains going west and so he decided we'd start over here.

  "Tanner was a good man. He worked hard and loved us. Davy adored him so. I think that if it had only been the storms, if only he'd lost his grandmother, maybe he would have been able to heal. But when he lost his pa… he just shut down. He stopped eating, stopped sleeping without nightmares, and then he just stopped talking. It was as if the world expected a price for existence that he simply couldn't pay."

  "How did Tanner die?" Matthew asked. "Cholera?"

  "No, if he had perished due to an illness that took others indiscriminately, that might not have pushed my son into himself. No, Tanner volunteered to be a scout. Were there Indians when you came west?"

  "No. We knew of the possibility but we never encountered any."

  "Well, Mr. Morgan warned us that he'd had reports that the Indians were growing tired of the influx of settlers into their lands. It was hard to believe when we had been traveling for weeks without a sighting but one day he told us that his scout hadn't returned and that he feared the worst. He told us to circle the wagons and remain while he went on ahead. The men started arguing, stating that if we lost him, it wouldn't take Indians to kill us all. None of us knew how to follow the trail without him. We'd perish right where we stood. Tanner and another man volunteered to scout ahead. I remember being so proud of him and yet… if he'd only kept silent…"

  "He did what he thought was best," Matthew said, respect for a man he'd never meet adding sincerity to his words.

  "It wasn't best," she countered, shaking her head. "The men didn't return and after a week, Mr. Morgan said we had to move on. The cattle had already grazed all the land around us, and the men had already hunted so much that all the animals had fled. A week later, we came across them. That was the day when our wagon was first in line and Davy… I remember he stood up on the wagon seat and pointed, and then… then he started screaming. It took me a moment to realize what he'd seen and then, God, I knew he'd never forget the sight. Tanner and Mr. Weston's bodies were sprawled on the ground. They had arrows sticking out of their bodies. I-I'll never understand why… what danger could two men pose against a-an entire tribe of Indians? All we wanted was a fresh start… a new beginning. The last sound I heard from my baby's lips was that scream… I still hear it. It-it isn't fair. It isn't goddamned fair!"

  Matthew held her tighter. "No, it isn't fair. It's a tragedy that no one can really explain. But just as your husband did what he thought was best, you've continued to do the same for your son. That's all you can do, Sally. Raise your son to be a man… a brave man like his pa."

  At the sound of a horse's nicker, she lifted her head. "You know, Buttercup did have her foal that day. Not in the barn but out in the fields. I-I wanted to name him Lucifer…" Turning to him, she asked, "Does that sound just awful?"

  "I can understand your desire to do so," Matthew said. "He was born on a day of such great loss and destruction."

  "I wanted to name him that to help me remember that all it takes to cause your entire world to vanish is one puff of the devil's breath." She shook her head as she gave a strangled laugh. "I wasn't even able to do that because Buttercup's baby was a girl. When Davy said that the baby's white forelock reminded him of a flower, I remember thinking that while the devil is perfectly willing to wipe out the world, God has a rather ironic sense of humor."

  Matthew chuckled. "Let me guess, a dandelion?"

  "Exactly. So I guess I got my wish after all. All I have to do is look at Dandy over there and know that life could be blown away with a single puff of wind."

  Matthew lifted her chin with two of his fingers, his head slowly shaking. "No, that single puff of wind allows the seeds to scatter, to take root in a different place, a better place. From one flower, several more are born. Life is hard and unfair, but as long as you have breath, you must live it to its fullest. It is only when you give up that evil wins."

  She stared up at him for a long moment and then gave him a nod. Bending, he pressed his lips to her forehead, holding her close.

  "You're planting new roots here in Oregon… and I hope you'll let me nurture both you and Davy."

  Sally knew it was too soon, knew she should remain in mourning for Tanner, and yet she'd spoken from her heart. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? God hadn't taken her son yesterday and now, perhaps he'd had a hand in guiding Mr. Morgan to this very meadow, perhaps he'd placed Matthew in her path to help her raise her son.

  "I'd like that… I'd like that very much, Matthew."

  This time when he bent down, it was to press his lips to hers, the kiss reawakening her in so many ways but, most importantly, firing her blood and filling her heart with hope.

  ***

  Matthew felt exactly as he'd said. With this kiss, holding this woman, he knew that God had just blown a gentle breath, loosening his heart and opening his soul to take root again. Sally and her son had gone through hell and yet come out the other side. He'd spend every day, every moment until he took his last breath making sure they never stepped a foot into purgatory again.

  This wasn't an innocent young girl. Her lips opened with the barest touch of his tongue against the seam of her mouth. Their tongues tangled, danced, tasting each other for the first time. He felt her move to straddle him, her hands going around his neck, fingers slipping into his hair. Her soft moan had his entire body responding, his cock stiffening beneath her body. He knew it was too soon, too fast… she'd just divulged a story that was traumatic and included the loss of not only her mother but her husband. He should pull back, give her time to mourn, to heal, and yet he continued to swirl his tongue along hers, to take little nips of her lips, to move a hand between them, to cup a breast. God, she fit perfectly within his palm, her body pressing hard against his hand, her nipple blooming into a hard point that his thumb couldn't resist strumming across.

  It was the need to breathe that had him releasing her mouth, the action having them both gasp for air. Her lips looked swollen, her cheeks flushed pink, her eyes glazed with desire. Bending again, he pressed his mouth against her neck, his lips opening, his teeth nipping at the pale skin, suckling hard until she gave a soft mew. Still he only moved a fraction further, his tongue broadening to lick behind the pink shell of her ear, feeling her entire body quiver at the warm waft of air he blew across the wetness.

  "Oh… God," she moaned.

  When he again suckled, she shuddered, pressing harder against him, into the hand that was still cupping her breast. The hand she'd had on the back of his head, dropped. Fingers that had been tugging strands of his hair now sought the bulge straining against the confines of his trousers. It was his turn to moan as she gave his cock a squeeze before stroking the length that was swelling under her caress.

  "I-I want you," she whispered. "Please…"

  He wanted nothing more than to give her what she wanted, take what he craved just as fiercely. As he gave her nipple a tug, it mimicked his cock, lengthening, swelling, growing even harder as he took the turgid bud between his thumb and finger and squeezed.

  "Oh… oh, yes!"

 
; Matthew would always wonder exactly how it would have ended if they hadn't heard a sharp bark. Still, it took him a moment to lift his lips from the skin he'd just begun to taste, to learn. Turning his head, he saw King standing a few feet away, the animal turning towards the wagon and then back to them, as if reminding them they weren't in a room, no boards of a door ensuring their privacy… no, they were not only outside, they were within yards of Davy. Evidently Sally had thought the same thing as he.

  "I… I'm sorry," she said, her eyes coming back into focus, her color deepening as she snatched her hand from his erection.

  "Don't," he said softly. "You've no reason to be sorry."

  "Yes… I was… oh, I acted…"

  Releasing her breast, he cupped her face between his palms. "You acted perfectly. I'm not sorry at all and, honey, you have absolutely no reason to be." He could still see the indecision on her face and didn't like that he could also see shame. Moving his hand, he slid it beneath her and gave a different part of her anatomy a squeeze. "I don't want you to ever be ashamed of your needs, Sally. You are a beautiful woman. A woman I have fallen in love with. A woman I want to make love to." Pleased to see some of the shame disappearing, her gave her buttock another squeeze. "And, just so you know, I consider denying your needs, suppressing your desires, offenses that can be detrimental to your health and safety. And we both know what I've promised will happen when you put yourself in any sort of danger, don't we?" Every sign of guilt left her face, replaced by a look of trepidation, as well as what he suspected was a flash of desire as she nodded, her breath coming in small pants. His cock jerked again just at the thought of turning her over his knees and giving her a very long, very stimulating demonstration of exactly what he meant. Instead, he bent forward, kissed her forehead, and then helped her off his lap.

  He stood, taking a moment to adjust himself as best he could, though it would be a few moments of thinking the least salacious thoughts he could before his erection would fully subside.

  "Coffee… I mean, we never finished our coffee. Would you like some more?" she said.

  Yes, he wanted more, and just that thought had his shaft shifting yet again. Bending, he picked up the cups they'd only taken a few sips from and tossed the cold contents onto the ground before handing them to her. "Sure, that'll be great." Seeing her blush, her eyes lifting from his crotch, he grinned. "Though perhaps a dousing of cold water would be better." She giggled and turned away, the bottom he'd just felt against his lap swaying slightly, promising things beneath that skirt that weren't doing a single damn thing to lower his cockstand.

  Chapter Nine

  Matthew had just accepted the cup of coffee when the sound of coughing drew their attention to the wagon. "I'll get him up, you find his medicine," he said. He would have offered to switch but since she'd been the one to unpack the supplies, she'd know where to find the bottle of syrup. Climbing into the wagon, he crouched down. "Hey, buddy. Your ma's getting your medicine."

  At the look on the boy's face, he grinned. "I know, but remember, we have a secret weapon." When Davy still didn't look convinced, he feigned ignorance. "Uh oh, where did I put that bag? Did I forget it at the mercantile?"

  Davy cocked his head and then shook it.

  "Are you sure? Hey, maybe Hope snuck it. You know how much she loves red gumdrops." A more vigorous shaking followed and then the boy reached out and patted his pocket. "Ah, that's right." Having kept an eye on the opening in the back of the wagon, he saw a shadow appear. "Shh, remember, it's our secret weapon, all right?"

  "What are you two whispering about?" Sally asked, stepping into the wagon, the cough syrup and a spoon in her hand.

  "Nothing," Matthew said, stepping behind her to press his finger to his lips. He was rewarded when Davy only made a small grimace when he accepted the medicine.

  "That's my good boy," Sally said, ruffling his hair. "Let's get your boots back on…"

  "I'll do it," Matthew said, bending to pick up the small boots from the floor of the wagon. She gave him a funny look but then nodded, taking a moment to press the back of her hand to her son's forehead. Evidently satisfied that he wasn't running a fever, she exited the wagon.

  While she began supper, Matthew took Davy down to the water. One there, he pulled out the bag and held it out. The boy took a yellow gumdrop, again taking small bites. Sinking down on the bank, Matthew stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. It wasn't long before Davy sat down as well. Popping a gumdrop into his mouth, Matthew again offered the bag.

  "Remember I told you how brave you are?" Matthew said. Though not looking directly at him, he saw the boy's nod out of the corner of his eye as he looked out over the water. "I know now where you learned how to be so brave. Your pa was a very brave man." Matthew saw the boy's hand freeze, the green gumdrop not yet having made it into his mouth, the child's entire body stiffening.

  "Life isn't always fair, son. In fact, sometimes life is so hard that you feel like you just want to curl up into a little ball and hide. But that's not what your pa did. No, he was a brave man, a good man, who loved you and your ma so much that he wanted to make a better life for you."

  God, this was hard… the words needed to be said, and yet who the hell was he to say them? Was it right to speak to a boy who had gone through so much, had seen things no child should ever see? But something had to set Davy free from the prison he'd placed himself in. Something had to break his self-imposed silence, to give him his voice… to speak, to laugh, to question… something had to remove the memory of the last sounds he'd made.

  "Davy, your pa didn't want to leave you. He wanted to watch you grow, to be there when you became a man. He didn't want to die, and I'm very sorry that he did. He was doing what he thought was best, a very courageous thing to help not only you and your ma, but an entire train of people who needed a brave man, a man who knew the dangers but risked his life because others needed him to. Yes, he died, and it's all right to cry and to be sad, and it's all right to be mad as hell because he's not here anymore, but Davy, I promise, he will never truly be gone. He is up there…" Matthew paused and pointed to the cloudless sky above them, "watching over you every single moment. He was there yesterday when you fell in the water. He was there whispering for you to hold on, that help was coming. Your ears might not have heard him but I guarantee you heard him here…" Matthew paused again and sat up, turning slightly to place his palm over the child's chest. "Your pa is in your heart and always will be. He loved you, Davy, and he would be so very, very proud of the way you are being brave, of taking care of your ma." He sat back again, looking again across the river, wishing life's hurts could be smoothed over and washed away as easily as the water flowing down the mountain to eventually empty into the sea. His heart had wrenched seeing two fat tears slide down the boy's cheeks, and then stuttered when Davy finally moved, scooting closer and laying his head against his arm. The two just sat, the silence broken only as the day began to wane and crickets began to chirp. Soft blinking spots of light appeared as fireflies began their evening dance among the trees lining the riverbank. It was Sally's soft call that supper was ready that had Matthew moving to stand, his hand being taken by a little boy who Matthew prayed would find his sweet soul beginning to heal. He gave Sally a smile, wondering how long she'd been standing there, but knowing he wouldn't have changed a single word even if she'd sat down beside her son.

  ***

  After they'd eaten, Davy went to the river to get a bucket of water so that his ma could wash the dishes. Sally waited until he was out of earshot and then turned to Matthew. "Thank you… your words… I know they were for Davy but they helped me as well. I always thought it sinful to think ill thoughts of those who've passed but…"

  "It's not sinful to be mad. God didn't give his children hearts capable of loving so deeply and not expect them incapable of breaking when that love is lost. Just like grieving is necessary, so is anger over being left without someone we loved. It takes time to heal but I believe that t
hose we lost, if they truly loved us, would not want those left behind to mourn for too long. Just as I believe Tanner would want his son to live his childhood fully, to find happiness again, I believe he'd want you to do the same."

  She wondered how Matthew knew she had felt guilty over her intense attraction to him, her wantonness of earlier, and yet somehow he must have. "I-I… so you don't think it's wrong… us so quickly…"

  "No, I don't," Matthew said, pulling her into his arms. "We are never guaranteed a tomorrow."

  Lifting up, she kissed his cheek and then stepped away. After she had washed the dishes and Matthew dried, the three led the horses down to the river to drink. "Dandelion is a fine horse. She'll be ready to ride soon," Matthew said as the pony slurped water and then shook her head as if surprised to find it a bit cold. "Davy, what do you think about building a corral? It wouldn't have to be big, but large enough so that Dandy and Buttercup could have a bit more space to move around instead of being hobbled?"

  Sally watched as her son looked over his shoulder as if visualizing a corral, and smiled when he looked up at Matthew and nodded.

  "Great. How about tomorrow you choose the best spot and mark it with some sticks or rocks? We'll start felling some trees. Do you think you can do that?"

  The boy nodded eagerly.

  "Only if you are not coughing too much," Sally said, the mother in her unable to resist having her voice heard.

  "He'll know when to rest," Matthew said. "Geeze, mothers can be so tiresome." Rolling his eyes caused Davy to give a snort.

  Pretending to be insulted, Sally slapped at Matthew's arm. "You have absolutely no idea how tiresome this mama can be."