Katriona's Keeper (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 11)

by Lynn Winchester

  Katriona squealed, clapping excitedly. “Oh, that’s just about the best thing I’ve ever heard! I thought Madame Wigg had the best idea for names, but now I’m not so sure—what’s your mother’s name?”

  He chuckled, thoroughly enjoying her. “Lavender.”

  She squealed again. “Ooo, I can’t wait to meet her!”

  Meet her? He supposed that was a possibility now that he had a wife to take home to his parents. “She’d love you, I think.”

  Katriona sniffed. “You think? Am I not good enough to introduce to your parents?” The mood had shifted from jovial to tense again in a blink.

  He held up his hands, warding off her glare. “It’s not that at all. What I meant was that I think—I believe—she would love you. You have the same…intensity. She’s never one to sit still, not when there’s work to be done.”

  That seemed to placate her, because she stopped glaring, her eyes taking on a wistfulness he hadn’t seen on her before.

  “Perhaps we can go to Porter’s Grove…once…well, once we’ve been married a while,” he offered, hoping to bring that brilliant smile back to her face.

  A smile did appear, but only the ghost of one. “I’d like that.” She nodded. “So, what about siblings? You have any?”

  He shook his head. “No. I am an only child, sadly. Watchin’ my ma with her brother and sisters made me wish for some of my own, but I guess I was meant to just be by my lonesome.”

  To his surprise, Katriona reached over and put her hand on his knee. Electricity shot through her hand and into his leg. It took everything he had to not shoot up in his seat and cry out at the sensation.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get to know the joy of having brothers and sisters. I only had sisters, but they have been my biggest blessing.” Again, that wistfulness made an appearance, and he had to wonder what had brought it on. “But, you aren’t all on your lonesome now. You have me, and I can be your closest friend, your most—er—intimate companion, your champion, and your soul mate.”

  She’d stumbled over that bit about “intimate companion,” but the fact that she’d spoken of it at all had his heart racing. Perhaps she wouldn’t want to put off their wedding night. His gaze dropped from her bright blue eyes to her pouty, lush lips, and then further down before snapping back up to her face. She was flushed, her eyes now wide, and her lips open to allow her quick breaths to escape.

  “Race…” she murmured, her breathing quickening. The hand on his knee slid down to his thigh. He stiffened, all of his body flexing at the feel of her so close to him.

  “Yes,” he croaked.

  “I believe in doing what needs doing,” she said, her voice dropping. “And I think we need to be doing something else…” Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips and all his thoughts tumbled into the pit of his stomach.

  He didn’t need to ask her what she meant. With his heart pounding in his chest and his blood singing through his veins, he leaned in, sliding his hands up Katriona’s arms. She shuddered beneath his touch. A slow smile formed on his face; he liked that she was affected by him, for he was affected by her, utterly. His hands cupped her flushed face, and he pulled her to him, she leaned in, too, her eyes watching him as he drew closer. There was a heat in her blue eyes, turning them from cornflower blue to sapphire. Finally, he pressed his lips to hers—they were so soft, so much softer than he could have ever imagined, and they gave beneath his. She stiffened at first, no doubt unused to men’s kisses, but he took his time, closing his eyes and enjoying the contact. She was warmth and deliciousness rolled into one, like an apple tart straight from the oven. He brushed his lips over hers, and she moaned, finally melting into him, and he mentally crowed at her surrender. He deepened the kiss, taking each breath and holding it in his own body.

  Every inch of him felt tight, every beat of his heart thrust hot blood through him.

  He’d waited long enough.

  Breaking the kiss, he sucked in gulps of air, forcing his mind to stop spinning. Katriona’s face was still flushed, but her eyes were hazy and her lips were pouty and kiss-swollen.

  He liked her like that.

  “I wanted to talk with you about our weddin’ night, and I was willin’ to wait until you were ready, but I have a feelin’ you’re about as ready as I am,” he said, his voice husky.

  Her eyes cleared but remained trained on him, there was a certainty there he appreciated.

  “Oh, I’m ready alright,” she answered, her voice silky and sensual in its raspiness. Sliding her hand into his, as if giving him the ticket to heaven, she pinned him with her heated gaze and nodded.

  Not needing another sign, he clasped her hand tightly. Race stood up on shaky legs, pulled her up beside him, and escorted his wife to their bedroom.

  Chapter Eight

  Katriona rolled over, her arm flinging wide and slapping something hard, warm, and close. Her eyes flew open, memories of the night before burning through her mind. The heat of her blush engulfed her body, making her wonder if she’d been lit on fire.

  Race, beside her, his body nearly pressed against hers, grunted at the impact of her arm. He stirred, rolling over to face her. The slow, sleepy smile on his handsome face made her belly do funny things.

  “Mmmm, good mornin’, wife,” he murmured, his voice deep from slumber. He leaned forward and nuzzled her hair, planting a kiss on her forehead.

  Unused to waking up beside a man, Katriona suddenly felt the awkwardness of the moment—though, she supposed, he was her husband, and what they’d done the night before—though it felt down right sinful, hadn’t been wrong at all. But Lord, it felt oh so wrong. Her flush burned her cheeks, and she answered, “Good morning, Race.”

  He reached around her, pulling her into his chest. He was hot, his flesh like a flame against her, and she could feel the beating of his heart right through her own chest.

  “So, what do you want to do today? I have to take a walk over to the main house, but after that, we can do whatever you want.”

  She burrowed into him, absorbing his warmth even as she tried to get her brain to work properly.

  “I suppose I should make us some breakfast first—wait, do we have eggs? Bread? Bacon? I hadn’t thought to check the kitchen for food yesterday.” Nope. She’d been too busy arguing and then…not arguing with Race.

  His chuckled moved through her like a shiver made of flames.

  “I bet, if you got dressed and walked out onto the porch, you’ll find everythin’ you need to make breakfast.”

  She placed a hand on his chest, the wiry hairs tickling her palm. “Is that so,” she asked, curious.

  He nodded, leaning in to plant another kiss on her forehead.

  “That is so.” He pulled away and turned to slip from the bed. Katriona got an eyeful of his strong body before she turned away to stare at the opposite wall, her face burning. She heard him chuckling as he slipped on his pants.

  “You can look now, darlin’” he drawled, humor in his voice. Holding her breath, she turned back to him. He was still naked from the waist up—not that she complained. He was a sight to see; planes and ridges met with slabs of muscles on his chest, and his arms were twin tree branches with lengths of flexing muscles that bulged when he reached for the shirt he’d thrown over the end of the bed the night before. She watched him finish dressing without saying a word, just enjoying the view of the man she married.

  “I’ll be back before breakfast is ready,” he said, bending to pick up his boots.

  “You headed to the main house? What for?”

  “Well, I’m really headed for the barn, which is close to the main house. I need to check on a mare that’s ready to foal any day now.”

  Katriona bit back the retort that flew to her lips. The man, her new husband, was going back to work the day after their wedding?

  Well, what do you expect? He’s the ranch foreman and you don’t really want any man doting over you all day. She hated that she was both right…and wrong. No, she ha
dn’t known Race all that long, but they were married, and it should matter to him that he was leaving his new wife on her own their first full day as a couple. But she couldn’t show him that his decision bothered her, because she could do what needed doing without him there.

  First, breakfast. Then she’d see about getting into town to have a look around. The weather outside the window looked like a warm, clear day was brewing, what better time to see what her new hometown was like?

  She tossed the blanket from her body, not all the worried about her nudity. They were married, if it didn’t bother him to walk around in naught but his skin, then it wouldn’t bother her. She slid from the bed and nearly rethought her decision when Race groaned deep in his throat. Katriona turned to see that his face had grown hard and his eyes were snapping sparks.

  “You walk around like that, I may not make it to the barn,” he ground out. Tingles fanned out from her belly at his appreciative gaze.

  Determined to go on as if he hadn’t just turned her inside out, she shrugged then turned around and strode to the chest of drawers.

  “I can’t very well walk around with a blanket over me,” she remarked as she dug through the top drawer for her underclothes. “Besides, I’m hungry. I can’t cook breakfast from the bed, now can I?”

  He grunted but said nothing. With her underclothes in hand, she bent to put them on, her ears perked, listening for him behind her. Once she was covered, she glanced over her shoulder at him.

  His eyes were pinned to her, burning amethyst ringed with dark lashes. His intensity stole her breath, but she dragged in another breath to say, “You going to stand there staring all day, or are you going to go check on that horse?”

  As if snapped from a dream, Race gave his head a quick shake then offered her a slow, wicked, wolfish grin.

  “I’ll go, but I’ll be back before you know it, and I’ll make sure to take my time with you tonight,” he drawled, sending tremors of desire through her spine. “I promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to that—now get!” She shooed him toward the door. He chuckled then left the room, his boots in hand.

  Katriona listened for the front door to open and close, signaling his departure, and when he finally left, she donned her most practical and comfortable clothes, dragging on a pair of stockings and boots she’d purchased when she realized she’d be spending the rest of her life on a ranch.

  Remembering what Race said about finding breakfast foods on the porch, Katriona made her way to the door and opened it, stepping out into the bright sun of a new day. It was hotter than she expected it to be so early in the day, but from what she heard about of Texas, this was the norm.

  Best get used to it.

  She turned to the right and looked, and sure enough, there was a large basket sitting on the bench by the door.

  She grinned.

  “Moira,” Katriona murmured, saying a prayer of thanks as she hauled the basket inside and shut the door.

  A rasher of bacon, a towel containing a heap of freshly made biscuit dough, a bottle of milk—she wondered if it were sheep milk—a smaller basket of eggs, and a tin of coffee.

  “The perfect breakfast,” she said, smiling, as she set to work making her husband their first breakfast together.

  Stoking the fire in the stove, she placed a cast iron skillet on the stove and put the bacon on. It sizzled, filling the cabin with the smells of heaven on earth. She licked her lips, eager to bite into the delicious meat. Once the bacon was cooked, she used the bacon grease to fry up some eggs. The coffee was percolating in the pot by the time the eggs were done, and so she cut the already kneaded biscuit dough into large-ish pieces and placed them on a greased baking pan.

  Katriona hummed as she cooked, feeling right at home in her new kitchen.

  She was just pulling the delicious smelling biscuits from the oven when a thought occurred to her: she really enjoyed making a meal for her husband. Certainly, she’d only been married less than twenty-four hours, but…well, she liked doing something for someone else. She always had. It was one of the reasons she liked to teach. She loved instilling knowledge into children, who would carry that knowledge on and perhaps teach their own children. Every little mind she touched, turned into a legacy. Making a meal for Race wasn’t a legacy like teaching, but it was her giving a part of herself—something she was passionate about—to someone who meant something to her. And Race had come to mean something to her—after their night together it was difficult to not think about Race; his wicked grin, his rough hands, his warmth and strength.

  She trembled, her mind throwing out images and memories of their first night together. And he’d promised more of the same tonight. She grinned. She’d best get her man fed so he had the energy to fulfill that promise. Her mind trained on finishing their first breakfast together, Katriona felt the rise of hope and happiness in her chest.

  Today is going to be a good day.

  The meal prepared and the table set, Katriona stood at the window to wait for her husband’s return.

  Chapter Nine

  Race rolled his shoulders and prayed the ache would subside. He’d spent hours bent over the new foal, trying to get the struggling thing to breathe, to eat, to get up on its feet. Long hours of begging the little colt to survive. Long hours that had ended with the new addition standing up on gangly legs to drink from his mother.

  It was a beautiful colt, a wonderful new member of the Ducharme breeding line. Though its first several hours of life were marked with anxiety and worry, he’d seemed ready to run the fields when Billy finally convinced Race to leave.

  He hadn’t meant to stay at the barn so long, but when he’d arrived that morning it was to find Billy in the stall with the mare. She’d gone into labor hours before but Billy had refused to send for Race because it was his wedding night. Somewhat mollified by Billy’s thoughtfulness, Race was still bothered by the fact that he hadn’t been there. He’d felt cheated of those hours—as ridiculous as that seemed.

  The horses were his responsibility, as were the cows and steers. He’d been working with them long enough that the labor was part of him. In his blood and bones, beating in his heart and filling his lungs.

  It was nearing dusk when he approached the cabin, reining in Twister. There wasn’t any smoke swirling out of the stove chimney, which meant Katriona probably hadn’t started making supper.

  His stomach growled, twisting in rage, as he considered that he hadn’t eaten at all that day.

  She’s gonna be mad that I missed breakfast. Especially after he’d told her he’d be back for it.

  But there was nothing he could do about it now that the time had come and gone. Sighing, he walked Twister behind the cabin to the lean-to that was just big enough to house two horses. It took him another thirty minutes to unsaddle then brush down Twister, but once he was done, he knew there was no excuse not to go into the cabin and face his wife’s wrath.

  He could remember it from yesterday, the way her eyes flashed, her cheeks flushed, and she spat fire like a dragon. She’d been a sight to see, but with all the anger focused on him, he’d been overwhelmed by it—and it hadn’t even been his fault she was angry. But this time…it was all on him.

  He pulled his hat from his head and opened the door, walking inside to see that the house was dark. Quiet. Lonesome.

  “Katriona?” he called. “I’m home.”

  Silence met his words. Cursing, he walked through the main room then checked their bedroom—the bed was left unmade—and the second bedroom. She was nowhere to be found.

  Returning to the kitchen area, he discovered that the table had been set, the food had been portioned out, but one plate was almost empty.

  She’d sat there, eating breakfast alone on their first day married. His food was stone cold, as was the black coffee in his cup. She’d been alone, waiting for him to return like he’d promised. Groaning at the realization, he slapped his hat back on his head and went hunting for his wife. She couldn’t have
gone far on foot.

  * * *

  Katriona sat, staring, at the smilingest, happiest woman she’d ever met.

  “Go on, tell me more about New York City. I bet it’s a whole world different than here,” the woman named Tilly Bartlett said as she wrapped her hand around her mug of hot chocolate.

  After waiting in the cabin—alone—for three hours, she decided that if her own husband couldn’t bother to come home when he promised, then she didn’t need to bother sticking around. She’d walked long distances in the city, it couldn’t be much different in the country. At least out in the middle of nothing, there wasn’t the threat of pick-pockets and ruffians.

  The walk into town had taken almost an hour, then again, she’d taken her time. As she hiked the distance, she took in the sights around her. Wide open fields, bright blue sky, burning orange sun. Sure, it was hot as blazes, but she didn’t mind it, since she was just as burning hot.

  She hated that Race’s absence had gotten under her skin. And it bothered her even more that she’d felt so good preparing him breakfast, setting the table, and tidying up after the cooking so he didn’t come home to a mess. But then she’d sat there, at the table, watching his food grow cold. She’d pushed her own food around, her appetite as gone as her wishes for a pleasant day with her husband. When she decided to leave, she also decided to leave his food right where she’d put it. Let him find it when he gets back to his empty house, she thought as she strode away from the cabin, headed east.

  Once she’d gotten to town, she felt the eyes of curious townsfolk as she passed. She guessed they hadn’t seen a woman quite like her before, but she shrugged it off. They’d have to get used to her, just as she’d have to get used to them. As she made her way up Main Street, she noticed all the little shops, the large hotel on one side, and the quaint yet elegant boarding house on the other. Not to mention the general store—Mosier Fine Goods—a sweets shop, a saddlery, and several other storefronts with beautiful items displayed in their large windows. At first glance, Dry Bayou was a bustling town. Not so big that one could get lost in the masses, but not so small that you could yell someone’s name and they could hear you on the other side of it.