My Capricious Cowgirl (Willamette Wives Book 4)

by Maggie Ryan

  "Our own Garden of Eden, and you are my Adam."

  He nodded, giving her another kiss. This time, she pulled back and said, "And, as I recall, the good book instructs Adam to serve his Eve that first cup of coffee."

  "I don't ever recall reading that," Matthew said.

  "Then, sir, you need to read…" she paused, her lips twitching before she added, "He… brews."

  His laugh rang out as she sank down to sit on the bed again, only to give a sharp yelp when her tender backside hit the mattress. Matthew bent, picking up an item and tossing it to her. "I do know the Bible is full of verses about love… I think that would include good friends sharing comfort."

  She smiled as she arranged herself on the borrowed pillow, sending a thank you to Miss Mabel as he went to the fire to serve his bride her breakfast.

  ***

  The day was perfect, the sky clear, the air warm, the sun shining. Though she still felt it was very shameful to walk around without her clothing, she had to admit it added a bit of naughty excitement to her honeymoon. The fact that Matthew was just as naked was a definite plus. They'd eaten their breakfast, feeding each other bites of biscuits smeared with jam and strips of crisp bacon. Though she'd offered to do the dishes herself, he'd brought a bucket of water from the river and dried as she washed, their hands touching with the pass of every dish. Once the last was done, their hands found each other, his on her breast, hers easily finding his cock, already rising from its nest of curls. She thought it a very good thing that the bed was only a few feet away as they fell back onto it, making love again until they were spent.

  The next time she awoke, it was to find Matthew gone. Sitting up, she spied him and had to press her fist into her mouth to stop her giggles. Had another soul on this earth ever seen a buck naked man in the midst of three horses as he poured feed into the trough? She felt a surge of love fill her and said a prayer of thanksgiving, rising to move towards him. When he looked up, she waved and deliberately walked with more sway in her hips, tossing her hair that she'd learned he loved so much.

  "Careful, young lady, Adam extracts a penalty for lying."

  Reaching the corral, she put a foot up on the rail, drawing his eyes to her legs. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean."

  "Let me explain," he said, exiting the gate and walking up to corral her with his arms. "You are making a liar out of the woman who not only swore she'd never move again, but further swore she couldn't go about nude. You, my love, seem to be doing both quite well."

  "Hmmm," she purred, her bottom pressing against his groin as he stepped closer. "What a naughty thing to do. What exactly is the penalty, Adam?"

  Matthew laughed, leaning forward to nip at her neck. "One I am quite sure you aren't expecting, Eve." With that, he stepped back, turned her to face him and lifted her. "Put your legs around my waist," he instructed.

  Obeying instantly, she locked her ankles around his waist and her arms around his neck. Her nipples, already hard, puckered even more as the hair of his chest tickled her breasts. "Oh, I think I like this almost as much as cheating," she said, giggling as he gave her bottom a swat before she settled on his arms, which made a rather narrow but comfortable seat. It took her a moment to realize he wasn't walking back towards the wagon.

  "Where are we going?"

  "Don't fret, Eden was full of wonderful places," he said, continuing to walk.

  "Matthew, you're barefoot," she pointed out.

  "Yup, that would be a requirement of being totally naked," he quipped, never slowing his steps. It took a few minutes but she was comfortable and secure in his arms, and she laid her head on his shoulder, inhaling the scent that would allow her to pick him from a thousand men even if she were blindfolded. When he finally stopped walking, she opened her eyes.

  "Where are we… no! Matthew, don't you dare! That water is freezing!"

  "This river is mountain-fed and will never be truly warm but I assure you, it is not freezing. See, it's moving along just fine… not a speck of ice in sight."

  "But… how chilly do you think it is?"

  "Only one way to find out." He tightened his grip, running for a short distance and then leapt out into space. She didn't even have time to scream before they plunged into the water beneath the very tree she'd daydreamed of making love under. She came up gasping, sputtering and, to her disbelief, with laughter pouring out of her lips.

  "I… I can't believe you did that!" she said, treading water and reaching out to swat his arm.

  "Oh, when are you ever going to learn?" Matthew asked, shaking his head, water flying from the wet strands. "There is another penalty for swatting at the man who loves you so." He reached for her but Sally ducked away, swimming for the bank and squealing when a hand wrapped around her ankle, pulling her back. "Just keep adding them up," he said, turning her in his arms. "I can think of creative ways for you to pay those penalties as fast as you can think of ways to escape."

  "Oh, Matthew," she said, wrapping her legs and arms around him again. "I will never ever want to escape. I'm exactly where I want to be."

  She did learn what it felt like to make love beneath the boughs of the tree, sunlight piercing between the leaves, falling onto their skin as he drove into her body. Who knew that a man could become erect in water that still had her nipples puckered like little raisins? But, then again, who knew how incredible it felt to be taken in the water, feeling weightless as he moved within her, falling back when she erupted, to feel his hands holding her above the depths, knowing he would never let her go.

  They played in the river like otters, splashing each other, coming together for kisses both quick and long. They swam in lazy circles and then towards the waterfall, where she gasped and giggled as the water pounded against her shoulders and her back while he held her to him to keep her in place against the river's pull.

  She was refreshed and felt like a shriveled prune before he lifted her onto the bank, grabbing at the tree's root to pull herself to her feet. When he joined her, she was wringing out her hair. "Next time we should remember some towels."

  "The sun is our towel," he said, shaking his head, water droplets landing on her. Her step away to remove herself only had him grabbing her hand and pulling her to him, his mouth descending on hers. Would she ever tire of his kisses? His seemingly insatiable need for her? God, she hoped not.

  The sun did dry them as they sat on a quilt. She sipped from a cup of coffee, purring as he carefully brushed her hair, running his fingers through the strands, arranging them over her shoulders only to brush curls aside to flick and roll her nipples. It was incredibly arousing to know that all he had to do was touch her, to look at her and her body instantly responded.

  They ate the lunch they'd also found in the basket. "Hmm, those wood nymphs might give Charity a run for her money," she said as she licked a bit of pie filling from her fingers.

  "I think I need another piece to understand what you mean."

  She stood and served him another piece as he chuckled. "What?" she said.

  "It's obvious that you don't run around naked all day."

  "Of course I don't!"

  "I know. The color of your skin is quite rosy."

  She huffed and turned her head over her shoulder, looking down. "Any color on my poor bottom is not from the sun; it is from my loving husband, who spanks quite hard."

  "Any color on your beautiful ass is from you being naughty," he countered, "but I was talking about your breasts."

  She turned again and saw that they were indeed pink. "Oh, um, do you think Eve suffered sunburn?"

  "I doubt it," Matthew said, finishing his pie. "But then again, her skin was darker than yours. You are as pale as one of those mushrooms you picked yesterday." He looked up at the sky. "It's getting close to the time school will be out."

  "Oh, and I was hoping for more classes," she said, licking along her bottom lip before smiling. "But I am excited to hear what Davy thinks of the school."

  "I am as well, but t
here is yet one more thing on the curriculum today, Mrs. Stone." He stood and pulled her up. "Dishes can wait." Moving towards the bed, she was just about to drop down when he tightened his hold on her hand. "Nope, help me." He handed her the pillows as he picked up the grass filled mattress.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I rode that damn trail for months and listened to people making love all around me. It's about time I discover how much we can make this wagon rock, don't you think?"

  Laughing, she shook her head. "I just pray the wheels won't crack." Walking to the back of the wagon, she looked back at him. "Only one way to find out. Are you coming?"

  "Not yet, but I will be… more than once, my love," Matthew said, causing her to gasp and her skin to flood with color as he shoved the mattress into the back, taking the quilts she handed up to him before helping her inside.

  They dropped down and she giggled as he wagged both his eyebrows, the dimple in his cheek causing her heart to stutter. The wagon did, indeed, rock rather loudly, the sounds inside competing with the creaks, and their bodies shuddered just as much as the canvas, but the wheels held firm as they made love yet again.

  ***

  After dressing, Matthew kissing her bare skin as he covered it with her clothes, they did the dishes. "I was thinking, while it is very convenient that Davy can ride into school with Teresa, it would require getting up really early to get him down the ridge."

  "I was thinking the same," Sally said. "As much as I love it up here, it is a bit far from everyone."

  "How do you feel about moving down to the bunkhouse until we build our cabin?"

  "Will we build it up here? I mean, you and Davy just finished the corral."

  Matthew took her into his arms, her back to his front as they looked around the meadow. "No, but this will always be our special place. We'll come up here often, as will the others. It's a perfect place to swim, to play, to relax. In fact, I can even see a small place built for when a couple needs to get away for a bit. One day this will all belong to our children."

  "Matthew, I might not be able to have any more children. Davy is six years old, and I've not become pregnant again."

  "That doesn't matter. If we are so blessed, then we will love all our children, but I couldn't love Davy any more if he were my own. To me, he will always be my son. The three of us will make a home together."

  She nodded, blinking back tears, his words touching her deeply. A short time later, they rode down off the ridge, the note found in the bottom of the basket instructing them that if they wanted to see their son again, they'd find him at Charity's.

  "I can't believe they'd hold our son for ransom," Matthew said as he lifted her onto Buttercup.

  Sally laughed and accepted the basket that had held their wedding feast. "Charity did say that dinner would be served."

  "Hmph, if any of you believe that we believe dinner isn't a code word for another secret meeting, then, my love, you have several more lessons to learn."

  "And I'll treasure every one." Though the time alone had seemed to pass in an instant, Sally knew that their honeymoon would never truly be over.

  "Want to race?" Matthew asked with a grin.

  "Funny man," she said. "I hate to admit this, but while I loved the fact that Davy thought of my comfort with that lotion, the horse liniment did a better job of soothing my bottom."

  Matthew laughed and reached down to pat Ranger's neck. "I'm glad, but I'll still be checking your backside often to see if you sprout a tail."

  Epilogue

  Two months later…

  "Thanks, son," Matthew said, accepting a new pouch of nails.

  "I can't believe it's almost finished," Sally said as she and Teresa stood by the planks set on sawhorses that served as a counter.

  "It's pretty amazing," Teresa agreed. "Our cabin was up in three months but that's because the men started building when the snows hadn't yet completely melted. The weather has cooperated so nicely for this one."

  Pouring some lemonade into glasses, the women took them to the men, who were occupied with sawing wood they'd planed or nailing boards down. The site the Stone family had chosen was surrounded by trees and though not on the ridge, Sally thought it a very beautiful spot. The river ran behind it, and since it sat between Teresa and Agatha's cabins, it was convenient for the young school teacher to pick up Davy each morning.

  Sally heard laughter and looked over to see Davy. He had thrived under Matthew's love, the two sharing a bond that would never be broken. He loved school and was learning to read, coming home daily with tales of the friends he'd made, the fun he'd had. She smiled as she watched Davy and Hope chasing King, who ran around in circles, unable to bark due to the stick in his mouth, knowing that when he dropped it, one or the other would throw it for him again. The two had become the closest of friends, her son never seeming to grow tired of Hope's constant chatter. Johnny toddled after them, his chubby legs pumping, and Grace sat on a quilt, playing with her doll.

  Anna and Charity brought over more lemonade, the men taking a break to wipe sweaty brows and sip the refreshing liquid.

  "You'll be moving in before you know it," Anna said.

  "It's a good thing," Matthew said. "The bunkhouse is better than the wagon, but I'm really looking forward to having a separate bedroom."

  "Not to mention a larger bed," Sally said. "I know he can't be comfortable sharing a bed intended for one."

  Matthew slipped his arm around her waist. "Have you heard me complain?"

  "Never," Sally said, "but I have fallen out of bed more than once."

  The group chuckled, handing empty glasses back, and were about to return to their work when a horse thundered into the clearing.

  "Agatha!" Wyatt said, "she's… she's in labor!"

  Hammers were dropped and children scooped up as Richard mounted his horse. "I'll get Doc Williams."

  Wyatt wheeled his horse around, not waiting, needing to get back to his wife.

  "Richard, get Catherine too!" Anna shouted after him, his wave indicating he'd heard.

  "I didn't think it was her time," Sally said.

  "It's not, she's not due for another month," Anna confirmed. Hearing a soft moan, she turned to see Charity's eyes wide.

  "Let's not panic," Anna said, hugging her. "Some babies just come early."

  Having heard the story from Matthew about how Charity's youngest daughter had been a very difficult birth, presenting breech, Sally also hugged her. "Grace is fine. She's a healthy, happy little girl."

  "Yeah, but she wasn't born a month early, either," Charity said.

  "I'll take the children to my house. No telling how long this will take. You go to Agatha," Teresa said.

  Anna nodded and Roger took Johnny as his wife took Grace. "Davy, you bring Hope," Roger instructed.

  "Yes, sir," Davy said, taking the little girl's hand and whistling for King.

  The others walked towards the Wilcox cabin and Sally knew that she wasn't the only one sending up silent prayers that the baby and its mother would be fine.

  ***

  "Damn it, how long does this take?" Wyatt asked yet again as he paced up and down in front of his porch.

  "It's only been a couple of hours. Anna was in labor for almost eighteen," Richard said and then looked as if he wanted to kick himself when Wyatt turned to stare at him.

  A cry from the cabin had Wyatt flinching. "Shit, why do women even get pregnant?"

  "Well, there's this little flower and a bee…"

  "So not helpful, Roger," Matthew said, though his lips twitched when Wyatt growled.

  The door opened and heads whipped around. "No baby yet," Sally said. "Harriett said it will be a while. First babies tend to take their time. We're going to Anna's to make something for supper."

  Anna went to Wyatt. "Catherine and Harriett are both with her. Agatha is doing fine. Robert doesn't see any evidence that the baby is turned wrong. Just be patient. You'll soon be a papa."

  The three women
each accepted a kiss from their husbands before walking to Anna's. They worked together to make a large pot of soup, Charity and Sally chopping vegetables they'd picked from the flourishing garden behind the cabin, while Anna cut and browned meat in a skillet. Dough had been rising under a cloth and was kneaded a final time and shaped into loaves.

  "What about dessert?" Charity asked.

  "How about a crumble?" Anna suggested. "I've got apples."

  They left the pot on its hook over the fire to simmer, and when the crumble was bubbly, they set it on the counter. The loaves of bread sat on a board, pots of butter and jam beside it. Stacks of plates and bowls were on the table, along with silverware.

  "People can just come and go when they want," Anna said. "I know we all want to be there, but there are chores that are going to have to be done if it takes much longer, and the children need to eat."

  They went to Agatha's to check on the children and found her in a rocking chair, the children sitting on the floor before her as she read them a story. She looked up, the question in her eyes easy to read.

  "No baby yet. We prepared supper. If you'd like, we can take the children," Anna said.

  "No, we're fine. I've already fed them and, if needed, they can nap on the quilt." Thanking her again, each mother took a moment to hug and kiss their child before the three left to rejoin the men.

  Another hour passed and another, the cries coming more frequently until Wyatt dropped to sit on the edge of the porch, his face in his hands. "Who the hell do we think we are? Women are far stronger than men… I'll never put my Aggy through this again."

  "I felt the same way," James said, sitting down beside him. "But Hope wasn't six months old before Charity began talking about adding a brother or sister. I believe they forget the pain the moment their baby is placed into their arms."

  The door opened, and this time it was Catherine who stood there, a smile on her face. "Wyatt, you have a son… a fine, healthy son."