by Merry Farmer
She gave his hands a squeeze but lowered her eyes. “I thought I was doing a good job of hiding my fear. From you and from everyone.”
“You don’t need to hide it from me.” He scooted closer still. “You don’t need to hide anything from me.”
Her lashes fluttered and she glanced up at him. “I know. I never would have guessed it, but you’re the only person who I’ve ever trusted with how I really feel.”
A smile touched his lips and warmth pulsed through him in spite of the chill of the rain. The pressure of her hands in his, the way she looked straight in his eyes without flinching in spite of the fact that there was still worry there, were all the proof he needed that he had done his job. He had kept her safe.
He leaned toward her, bringing his lips to hers. She let him kiss her with a soft sigh, her lips parted. He’d only intended to kiss her gently, but that tiny sign of acceptance opened a new world of need and emotion in his chest. He let go of her hands and reached for her waist, pulling her toward him, wet skirt and all. She slid her arms around his neck as he kissed her more deeply, tongues touching, heart swelling. She felt so perfect in his arms that he never wanted to let her go.
She moved one of her hands to cradle the side of his face, kissing him then rocking gently back. “Were you going to ask me something earlier?” she asked, her eyes bright with mischief.
A thrill squeezed his chest so hard that for a moment his breath caught in his lungs. “In fact, I was.”
“Oh?” She feigned innocent, batting her eyelashes. She could only ever feign innocence. Lynne Tremaine was the most clever, bold woman he had ever known or ever hoped to know, and how he loved her for it.
“I was wondering if you might happen to want to spend the rest of your days with me,” he said.
“On the trail?” she asked, leaning in to steal a kiss.
“No, ma’am,” he replied in imitation of Ben.
“Hunting would-be murderers?” She kissed him again, longer and harder this time.
“Not that either,” he answered, his voice rougher as heat rose through him.
“Attending spoiled tea parties?” Her kiss was long and lingering this time. She raked her fingers through his hair and pressed herself against him as much as she could in their awkward position.
“Definitely not attending spoiled tea parties,” Cade growled. He spread a hand across the stiffness of her corset, reaching up toward her breast. Damn the rain and the rest of the wagon train and the danger all around them, all he wanted was her.
He shifted with her in his arms, laying her back against the wagon bed and covering her body with his. It was cramped and soggy, but his desire for her flamed all the same. She sighed and reached for the buttons of his shirt, fumbling to undo the top few through the damp fabric.
“Then how do you want me to spend the rest of my days with you?” she asked.
She was breathing fast, the tops of her breasts straining against her corset and wet chemise. He bent down to kiss her, then moved down to rain kisses across the swell of her breasts. It wasn’t enough. He wanted much more. He scooped a hand under her corset and drew out one breast as much as he could, kissing and sucking on her already puckered nipple.
“Cade,” she sighed, writhing beneath him.
“I want you,” he replied, then went back to teasing her nipple with his tongue.
She let out a breath with a sigh, spreading her arms to the side. “For the rest of your life?” she asked.
“Yes.” He left her breast and licked his way up her neck to meet her lips once more. His kiss pulled a moan from her that had him rock hard in moments. “Forever.”
He balanced himself with his knees on either side of her and shrugged out of his suspenders, tugging his shirt up over his head. She watched with sparkling eyes, her mouth half opened, thrusting her hips up so that she could undo the fastenings at the back of her skirt. Everything about her was wild and wanton and bold. Let the others turn up their noses and call the two of them disreputable. Some things in life were more precious than the standards of society.
When he reached for the buttons on his pants, Lynne pushed herself to sit. She batted his hands away from his trousers and took over unbuttoning them with eager, searching movements. Each brush of her fingers against his full and throbbing manhood, fabric or no fabric between them, shot bolts of pure desire through him. He gasped when she loosened his pants and pushed them down over his hips, freeing his staff to stand erect.
“I love the way you look,” she said, taking him in her hands and stroking him. It was so good, he couldn’t contain the groan that rumbled through his chest. “I love the way you feel.”
“I love you,” he answered, hoarse and rough.
He reached for her, cupping her face in his hands and lowering to kiss her with all the fire and fury born of the delicious caress of her hands on him. If he could have held out, he would have wanted her to tease and stroke him like that forever, but sweeter treasures awaited.
“Lynne,” he said, leaving her lips to plant feather-light kisses across her cheeks and nose. “Say you’ll be mine, forever.”
Her hands left his staff to spread across his abdomen. She slid them up across the tense muscles of his sides to his chest, right over his beating heart. It wasn’t enough, though. She broke from him long enough to switch from sitting to kneeling before him, pushing her damp skirt and petticoat off and tossing them aside in the process. When she was done, she leaned into him, her mouth capturing his with all the power of the rain outside. She circled her greedy hands around his back, smoothing them down across his backside and squeezing. She was as brazen as they came and he responded with passion that made his head spin.
“Say you’ll never leave me,” she panted against his lips. “Say you’ll protect me our whole lives, in every way.”
“Every way,” he promised. “Every day. I love you, Lynne.”
“And I love you, Cade,” she sighed.
She tightened her arms around him, pressing her body into his and kissing him for all she was worth. Nothing had ever felt so good or so right in Cade’s life. He caressed her backside, pressing her hips into his and grinding. The friction of her body as he rubbed against her, imitating what he planned to do once he was inside of her, was enough to make him lose his mind. It was almost heaven. Almost.
He paused and inched away from her.
“Marry me, Lynne,” he said. “Say you’ll marry me, say you’ll let me make an honest woman of you.” A grin tickled the corner of his kiss-hungry lips and he added, “Over and over and over.”
“Yes,” Lynne answered with a giggle that rose up from deep in her throat. “Oh, yes.”
Joy more beautiful than anything he’d ever felt swirled through Cade. She was his. This fearless woman was his. And he was hers in every way. He worked the hooks of her corset open as quickly as he could, bending to kiss the swell of her breasts.
“Yes,” she repeated, tilting her head back.
He traced his lips over the line of her neck as he reached for the hem of her chemise and tugged. She was like water in his hands, flowing smooth and graceful as he pulled the flimsy, wet garment up over her head and tossed it aside. When he filled his hands with her breasts, grazing his thumbs across her nipples, she moaned. The sound shot straight to his groin, making him hotter, hungrier.
He let her go long enough to find the nearest bedroll and spread it hastily across the boards of the wagon bed. It was nothing to the fine feather bed he planned to buy for her as soon as he could. She deserved a bed worthy of a queen, worthy of a wife. She shed her drawers as he worked, and when he was finished he shucked his trousers, already bunched around his knees.
When he lowered himself over her as she lay sprawled on her back, legs parted for him, he hummed with delight. Bold and fearless, open and eager. His wife. In time, God would join them properly, but for now love would bind them to one another. He kissed her lips, making his promise without words. She responded with an eager sigh, lift
ing her hips to invite him in. He answered her by sliding a hand between them to play in her curls.
“Cade,” she gasped as he slid his fingers into her hot wetness. She was more than ready for him. He slid a finger inside of her folds, humming in tune with her as her inner muscles clenched him. She was so sweet that it hurt not to be inside of her, but he wanted to give her all the pleasure possible first.
He slipped a second finger inside with the first one and proceeded to circle and stroke her nub with his thumb.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispered against her open, panting mouth as he worked her. “I want to feel my wife come.”
“Ooh,” she moaned, bearing down on his hand. “Say that again.”
He pressed his fingers into her inner wall as his thumb continued its patient work. She was so hot he felt himself breaking out in a sweat.
“My wife,” he said, circling steadily, steadily. “My wife. My wife.”
She came with a cry that bordered on weeping, her inner muscles clenching his fingers over and over.
“I love you,” he murmured against her ear, his thumb still working. “I love you forever.”
Her inner tremors subsided slowly, as if she was determined to milk as much pleasure from his touch as she could. Of course she would, she was Lynne, fearless and strong. When her body relaxed into the afterglow of the pleasure he’d given her, he repositioned himself and pressed inside of her. She gasped as he filled her, entering inch by inch until he was as deep as he could go. It was glorious to be inside of her, exactly where he belonged.
He moved, using tender, long strokes at first to keep her fires flamed. It was futile for him to resist the call of instinct, though. His every fiber and sinew wanted to join with her, be one with her. He moved faster, his long strokes becoming shorter, harder, headier. As intense as his desire was, she didn’t shrink from it. She raked her nails across his back, panting and moaning with each stroke. She wanted him with all that that meant.
He let himself go, pouring his whole heart and soul into mating with her. When the irresistible pressure of his climax began to sneak up on him, it filled him with happiness more potent than anything he’d felt before, and when he released into her, it was with a cry of sheer bliss. The pleasure of it flooded him, possessed him. It was more than pleasure of the body. His whole being rejoiced.
The world grew hazy as he relaxed, every muscle in his body loosening. He collapsed to her side, spent in every way, a smile on his face. Lynne exhaled with a happy sigh and shifted to fit herself against his side. He opened his eyes long enough to see the wicked smile on her kiss-swollen lips.
“I will never grow tired of loving you this way,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.
He laughed in spite of himself. “There are so many ways we can love each other like this, sweetheart.”
“Then I want to learn them all,” she answered.
They were silent for a moment as the rain continued to beat on the wagon cover. Somewhere outside voices were raised, but it was only a distant buzz in the back of Cade’s sated mind. He was warm and relaxed and his eyes felt heavier than they had in months. The world was slowly slipping away with a peace he’d forgotten existed. As long as Lynne was by his side, it encompassed him like an embrace.
“Go to sleep, my love,” she whispered, lifting herself to stroke his hair. “Go to sleep. You’ve earned it. I’ll stay here and keep you safe.”
She kissed his forehead, and for the life of him, he couldn’t open his eyes.
“Go to sleep,” she said again, “and when you wake up, we’ll find whoever is hunting me. We’ll stop him, and then we’ll be together forever.”
Chapter Sixteen
For a few blissful hours, everything in Lynne’s world was just right. She had pulled a blanket from her things and laid it over her and Cade, snuggling against him, her soon-to-be husband. Her father would be surprised—her Uncle George as well—but she knew it was meant to be. She knew because after they made love, Cade fell asleep, safe in her arms.
While he slept, she pondered her situation. More than that, she plotted. It was time she stopped running from the danger haunting her. That danger had chased her away from her family and her home and dragged her across the prairie, but it would stop here, it would stop now.
It wasn’t until the following morning—after the rain had stopped and the wagon train had pulled itself back into some sense of normality—that an idea for how it would stop came to her.
“Those fools who ran off when the tea party disintegrated yesterday afternoon—Kyle, Reverend Joseph, Elton Finch, and the Ryes—are still gone,” Mr. Evans told Cade and a few others over breakfast. He was as gruff and angry as usual, but concern underlined his every word. “We can’t move either train on, to Oregon or Denver City, until we know what happened to them.”
“We should form search parties,” one of his assistants said.
“Three or four,” Mr. Evans agreed. “That way we’ll cover more ground. Who knows how far they’ve run.”
It was that plan that caused Lynne to light up with ideas.
“Cade.”
She tugged on his sleeve, drawing him aside from the men as they began to talk about who should go with which group and where they should begin their search. Half of the rest of the wagon train was inching closer to see what they would decide, including Mrs. Weingarten and Ben.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’m not leaving you to go after them.”
“Shh, keep your voice down,” she whispered.
He frowned, then raised an eyebrow at her as if he couldn’t decide whether she was being difficult. “If I ride off to help them, there’s no telling what might happen to you here.”
“I know,” she said. “That’s exactly the point.”
“What do you mean?”
She glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Mr. Evans had gathered a large cluster of men around him and was speaking up so he could be heard. “We should set out as soon as possible.”
Lynne took Cade’s arm and led him even farther away from the group.
“This is our chance,” she whispered.
“For what?” Judging by the twitch of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes, he had a few ideas on that account.
Lynne couldn’t help but giggle before wiping the grin off of her face and getting down to business. “We can catch the Briscoe Boy today.”
His teasing grin vanished, replaced by seriousness that could teach her father a thing or two. “I don’t know if I like this.”
“You will.” She checked one more time to be sure no one was listening. “If the man who is trying to hurt me thinks that you’ve gone off to search for the others, if he thinks that you’ve left me and that the other men have gone too, he’ll come after me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Cade crossed his arms, solid and suspicious.
Lynne wasn’t deterred. “But if you didn’t actually leave, if you only pretended to leave but, in fact, stayed close, we could draw him out.”
“I see.” His expression didn’t waver, but she could see the interest in his eyes. “Go on.”
“I could make it known that I plan to take a walk, to stretch my legs or some such. On my own. I’ll let word get around the camp. Then I’ll walk out to a specific spot, a spot where you’ll be hiding.”
“I’m not sure—”
“Then, when he attempts to attack me, you can spring up from wherever you’re hiding and take him down.”
Cade was silent for a long time after that. His jaw was set, but his eyes flashed. Lynne took his arm, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow and walking with him away from the camp. She put on a sweet smile and glanced up at him through her lashes so that anyone watching them, any killer watching them, would think she was just another cotton-headed woman mooning over a man and taking a stroll with him.
“I could carry that Cooper concealed in my skirts,” she said when they were well
out of earshot of the rest of the train.
“No. Absolutely no,” Cade countered. He checked to the side to be sure no one was following them or even interested in them. “You were terrible with that gun when I gave it to you before.”
Lynne’s shoulders sank and her mouth turned down in a pout. Just because he was right, didn’t mean she had to like it. But the fact that he hadn’t dismissed her entire plan outright was a step in the right direction.
“I’ll need to have some means to protect myself,” she said. She spied a copse of trees ahead that would make a likely hiding place, another somewhat further past that.
“I’m your means of protecting yourself,” Cade growled. “And you’d better believe that I’ll be armed to the teeth.”
Lynne’s heart leapt in her chest. “So you like the plan?”
He let out a long sigh, rubbing his face with his free hand. “No. Not really. Not at all”
“But?”
“But right about now I’d be willing to try anything to remove the threat.”
Lynne smiled. “We can make this work. I know we can. As long as we’re prepared.”
“I’d rather have back-up,” Cade finished.
“That’s a brilliant idea. I just bet that Mr. Evans would loan you a few men to help,” she brightened even more.
Cade paused, turning to face her and laying calloused hands on her cheeks. He stared at her long and hard before stepping in close for a kiss. It was a quick, possessive kiss that said she was his and his heart belonged to her.
“I’m not going to do something foolish and lose you,” he said. “We may not have known each other long, but it’s been enough. I love you, Lynne, and I want to spend the rest of our lives together. I’d just rather that ended up being more than a few weeks.”
“I won’t let him kill me, Cade, I won’t,” she promised. “As far as we know, this Briscoe Boy only has a knife. We have guns.”
“We don’t know that he only has a knife,” he corrected her. “In fact, he’d be a fool not to carry a gun too, no matter how much he likes to slash things.”