by Reece Butler
“Who in tarnation’s that?”
“Looks like the MacDougal Devil, only he’s wearing white man’s clothes.”
Ross seated Amy and settled himself back against the wall as always. He ignored the hostile glares as well as the furtive glances both at himself and at Amy. The rumble grew louder.
“Let’s get this over,” he said. He stood up, pushing his chair back with a screech. The room went still.
“I’m Ross MacDougal of the MD Connected. This is my wife.”
He held out his hand. Following his lead, she took it. He helped her to her feet. She’d arranged her hair to cover her misshapen ear, but the mottling on her cheek was visible. She held her shoulders back and head high as if she defiantly faced a firing squad.
“Mrs. MacDougal will be treated with respect. Do you understand?”
The few men who met his eyes as he scanned the room nodded. They might not respect him as a person, but they knew what he could do to them. As for the others, he’d stated his claim.
A chair scraped back, the sound grating against his ears. He flexed his free arm to shoot a knife free in anticipation of problems. Luke Frost of the Circle C stood up.
“Join me in congratulating Mr. and Mrs. Ross MacDougal. It must be a comfort to Gillis to know little Hope will have her aunt’s love if she cannot have her mother.” Luke picked up his cup of coffee. “A toast, gentlemen.” He raised his cup and turned around the room. “Mr. and Mrs. MacDougal.”
“MacDougal,” called out Gabe, then Oscar, Luke’s partners in the Circle C. They stood and raised their cups.
“I say, congratulations, old man,” called out a deep voice in a strong English accent.
All three men at that table grabbed and rocked the chair backs of the men next to them as they stood. Those men grumbled but did the same until everyone was standing with cups raised. Sour faces proved many were doing it grudgingly, but Western hospitality to ladies was strong in Sophie McLeod’s dining room. The nearest decent food was over a hundred miles away, and no one wanted to get tossed out for manners unbecoming to a gentleman.
Ross held Amelia’s hand and nodded as she curtsied her thanks to each corner of the room. Her color was high as she smiled. He noticed she looked at the place where the wall joined the ceiling and no lower. He gave the quiet room another glare before seating Amelia.
“If you want to be fed, you’ll sit so Nettie and Elsbeth can get through,” called Sophie from the doorway to the kitchen. In a few moments, the only sound was hungry men devouring their food.
Amelia was almost as eager. Ross ate slowly, watching her enjoy herself. His tiny wife cleaned her plate quickly and efficiently. She used excellent manners, but her smaller portion was gone before he finished.
“Oh, my, that pie was so good!”
“Auntie’s venison pie is better,” said Ross. “Sophie’s a good cook, but Auntie knows which plants add more flavor.”
She set her knife and fork together across her plate. Most of the men in the room used spoons and their belt knives, but Sophie had set the table specially for them. He swallowed the last bite and settled back. After a long night discovering his wife and a decent dinner, he was ready for a stroll around town before loading up the wagon and driving home. He wanted to stake his claim in their bedroom.
“Prue did mention that Gillis brought in an Indian woman to do most of the work.”
“He didn’t bring Auntie. She came on her own when she heard Prue was sick.
“After Hope was born, Auntie arranged for Tillie Conacher to care for the baby. Tillie’s husband comes from a Clan aligned to the MacDougals. Their son Peter is a few weeks older than Hope. Tillie has lots of milk for both babies. By the time her husband gets back from his trapping route, Hope should be weaned.”
Amelia pleated the edge of the tablecloth, another concession from Sophie for their wedding dinner. She pursed her lips and blinked quicker than normal. He waited for her to say what was obviously on her mind.
“If you have someone to run the house and another woman to take care of Hope, you really don’t need me. Other than as a bed partner and brood mare, that is.” She flashed her eyes once at him then went back to wrinkling the carefully ironed linen.
Brood mare? She was right on that point, but even without much knowledge of women, he knew telling her so was not a good idea. If, that was, he wanted to repeat last night’s sport. Gil said that life was easier if women didn’t know the whole, exact truth.
But if he used those tricks, he wouldn’t be able to complain if she did the same.
In this, he trusted Trace’s advice more. When he told Trace he’d be marrying Amelia rather than Nevin, Trace sat him down and told him a wife has to believe she’s appreciated for herself. She wasn’t a hired hand with bed benefits. A wife wants to be special to her men, to feel like no one else could do what she did.
Amelia had strong opinions, as did Trace’s wife. It might take a bit for her to get used to him and express them as strongly as Beth, but it would come. Beth was a vocal woman, both in and out of bed.
When he rode over to tell the Elliott boys about the change in plans regarding Amelia, he’d heard shrieking from the barn. Simon, already sampling the honeycomb Ross brought as a present, ignored the noise. A few minutes later, Trace strolled out, whistling while he tucked in his shirt. Beth, still putting her hair back up, followed a few steps behind. When she saw him watching, she flushed bright red. She swept past with her head high and nipples jutting against her blouse.
Simon’s nostrils flared like their prize bull. He looked at his hand, covered with honey, then at Beth’s ass. He winked at Ross and followed Beth into the house. Ross heard Beth complain about Simon getting her face all sticky with honey kisses and protesting about the kitchen table being covered with flour. Simon suggested she either strip naked or lift her skirts and bend over said table if she wanted to keep her dress clean. Ross’s cock hardened like a fence post, his pants tenting.
Trace told him to play his cards right and he’d have the same. That’s when he told Ross a few things about mutual marriage to a demanding woman. Beth’s moans and her second scream confirmed she was as loud as Amelia when she came.
If he wanted that, and he damned well did, he had to tell Amy that she was the one he desired. No matter that he was forced into the marriage, no one else would do for him. Whether it was true or not didn’t matter. When he told her, he would strip her naked and prove it. First, he had to get his cock under control so he could leave the room without every man in the room knowing what he was thinking.
“I need you, Amelia MacDougal,” he said quietly. “We need you. Gil, Nev, me, and Hope. You’ll mean different things to each of us, but you’re now part of our family. In a few days, we’ll wonder how we got along without you.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice even more. “And it’s not just because I want to spread you wide and make you scream my name when you come.”
Dang, when she blushed like that, he could almost see her flushed, pink breasts, hard and full, waiting for his hands and mouth. Who would notice his hard cock when every damn man would be the same, looking at his very desirable wife with her “well-bedded but wanting more” expression?
“It takes a lot of work to feed three men and run a home, Amy. Auntie cooks and cleans, but she’s older than my mother,” he said. “She’s stubborn and won’t admit it, but she’ll be grateful when you take over.”
Instead of looking pleased, Amelia went back to wrecking Sophie’s ironing.
“Would she be willing to stay for a while, to show me how to do things?”
“With a baby to rock and more coming, you couldn’t get rid of her if you wanted to. We’re building her a small cottage back in the trees. She’ll have her independence, and”—he winked and dropped his voice, not that anyone could hear over the noise around them—“we’ll have our privacy.”
He looked at her breasts, still full and erect. He would keep her on the edge all day. Whe
n they got home, she’d be so horny one touch of his tongue on her hot, red clit would make her come. He’d better have his cock free before he touched her because he wouldn’t last long, either. Color rose in her cheeks. She knew what he was thinking and wanted it as well
“Are you laughing at me?”
He blinked, realizing he must have let a smile slip out. A touch of a pout appeared on her lips. If they were alone, he’d nibble it.
“Mr. MacDougal, I asked you a question.”
Now, she was getting huffy. Good. He’d rather have her feisty than subdued. One showed passion, the other, disinterest.
“Auntie will be happy working in the sun or by the fire while she watches our babies play.”
“Babies?” She gulped, her flush fading.
He leaned across the table and took her hand. “You might already be carrying our son, Mrs. MacDougal. And no, I wasn’t laughing at you. I was thinking of what I’m going to do as soon as I get you alone.”
She blushed bright pink again but didn’t pull her hand away. He lifted it to his lips, released her, and then stood up. He pulled out her chair. With trembling hands, she gathered her reticule and stood, still pink. He knew how far down her flush went. While the color didn’t go farther than her breasts, her pussy lips would swell, red and plump. He put his arm around her, placing her in front of him as he escorted her from the room.
They’d barely been dressed an hour, and already his cock was hard, demanding to plow her flesh once more. He looked over her shoulder and down. Yep, her breasts were still as hard as his cock, her nipples pushing against the soft cotton. Every man who saw her would know Ross MacDougal was the cause.
He gritted his jaw to stop himself from telling them to either drop their eyes or look his wife in the face. He couldn’t really blame them for reacting when a lovely, aroused woman walked past. Most of them had gone without a woman a long time. From the pained and longing expressions he passed, Amelia had roused quite a few cocks other than his. But only he would get to pleasure her.
Amelia wouldn’t be getting much sleep again tonight.
Chapter Ten
When they stepped on the boardwalk, Amelia placed her hand on his arm. He felt branded. By her action, she declared to the world she belonged to him. He slid his brown hand on top of her white one. He stared at it for a few seconds. He’d forgotten about their color difference. Did he need any more proof of how she affected him?
How would others think? The banker’s wife would make sure she knew they considered her worse than Miss Lily’s gals. The only women he knew, other than Beth, had businesses to run. They would appreciate Amelia’s patronage.
He decided to introduce her to all the shopkeepers. Mrs. Jennet looked down her huge nose at them as well. He rarely went near the shops. This would be a good opportunity to show them he could be civil. The MD and Rocking R spent a lot of money in town. An extra touch of manners today, and the shopkeepers would treat Amelia right.
He turned to his left, past the assay office, bank, and the Jennet house. George Byers, owner of the chemist, dentistry, and barber shop, gave her a peppermint candy. She laughed and popped it in her mouth immediately. She smiled shyly when Dieter Arnott insisted on sending some of his smoked pork sausage to the hotel for them to bring home.
Stumpy was in the back when they stopped at the livery stable, but Rod Venner, the saddler, was there. Ross ordered sturdy leather custom boots for Amelia from him. He had to bite his cheek when the man took her stocking-clad foot in his hands to measure her. Next door, she kissed Smitty’s cheek when he insisted she take the iron trivet she’d admired. The usually stern blacksmith held his iron poker like a sword and grinned like a child with a licorice stick.
He introduced Amelia to Patsy Tanner, who was busy unloading. They made a promise to chat the next time in town and wandered back past the hotel. Ross waited patiently while Nora Dawes, the owner of a dress and millinery shop, enthused over Amelia’s gray bonnet. When she came out of the shop, she had a new ribbon, one that brought out the blue of her now-sparkling eyes.
He had one more stop. Though every woman who worked with Lily wanted to be there, the woman did run a house of prostitution. Gillis would rage, but he had to introduce Amelia to one of his best friends.
* * * *
“Ross MacDougal, how dare you bring your pretty little wife to my establishment. In broad daylight through the front door!”
Amelia turned from admiring the tastefully decorated parlor to see a furious woman sweeping toward them. Though her tiny, buttoned-up shoes had heels, she was still shorter than Amelia. The finger she shook at Ross was equally small, yet her attitude was more than full size. Ross pressed his hand against Amelia’s back, urging her forward.
“I wanted you to meet my wife. Amelia, Miss Lily is a good friend.”
“How do you do, Miss Lily. My sister, Prudence, wrote me that you had excellent taste. She enjoyed adding her lace to the fancy nightgowns you ordered.”
“Prudence tatted better lace than anything I could order from Europe,” said Miss Lily. Ross grunted when she poked him in the belly. She had to raise her hand to do so. “You realize you just ruined your wife’s reputation by bringing her here?”
“Amelia received a number of welcome-to-Tanner’s Ford gifts,” replied Ross. “We used the front door because we’re not hiding anything. You don’t receive visitors in the afternoon, and anyone who knows me won’t care. The rest will condemn her for marrying me no matter how pure she is.”
Lily sighed. “So true. But we’d better move to my private parlor.” She raised a manicured eyebrow at Ross and then turned to Amelia with a wide smile. “Rosa, my cook, said the butcher’s boy told her the girls in the cribs behind Baldy’s Saloon are having a busy afternoon. Since we all contribute to the Bride Train expenses, I’m pleased we are getting a return on our investment.” She winked, still smiling. “I hear you almost beat Trace’s wedding night record.”
Fire raced through Amelia from her toes to the top of her head. Her knees wobbled for a moment. Ross put his arm around her waist, but she poked him with her elbow. “Does everyone know what we did last night?”
“Not the details, of course,” said Lily.
“Anyone who knows me—”
“Won’t care,” choked Amelia, finishing Ross’s sentence. It didn’t matter. She cared. The worst was that knowing people had heard their lovemaking made her want to do it again.
Lily led the way out of the room and down a corridor covered with a red Turkey carpet. She turned left into a bright room papered in yellow and gestured for Amelia to sit. Green plants covered a table set near the window. A pigeonhole desk, closed and locked, suggested Miss Lily used this room as her office. She also had an upholstered settee and a few matching Queen Anne chairs. Amelia chose a chair, smiling when her heels actually touched the floor.
“Tea?”
“We beat Trace’s record. My wife’s screams were muffled a few times,” declared Ross. He waited behind the biggest chair for the ladies to sit.
Amelia flushed. “That would be lovely,” she managed to murmur.
Lily daintily settled beside Amelia and arranged her skirts. “May I call you Amelia?”
“Of course.” If Lily could act as if this was a daily occurrence, so could she.
“Ross, please ask Rosa to bring tea. She made some of those sugar doughnuts you like so much.”
Ross narrowed his eyes at Lily. She fluttered her eyelashes back at him. “I don’t know if I should leave the two of you alone together,” he said.
“You know I think of you boys as nephews, just like the Elliotts. I want what’s best for you.”
“We don’t agree on what is best for me,” he growled.
Amelia looked from one stubborn face to the other. Lily pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and waved him away with it.
“Fine, we’ll discuss lace while you’re in the kitchen.” She drew her handkerchief across her palm. “I treasure
the lace your sister made for me. Do you tat as well?”
Amelia shook her head. The door had barely closed when Lily held up her hand.
“There. We spoke of lace.” She tilted her head and gave Amelia a shrewd look. “You don’t object to your husband’s color, or that a madam is a friend of his?”
“After the way people treated me because of my burns, I try not to judge people by what they look like or what they do. From what I’ve seen, my husband is a good man. As to the business you run, if my father had thrown me out after I recovered from my burns, I don’t know what I would have done to stay alive.”
“Why would your father do that?”
“He had plans for both Prudence and myself to marry to improve his business. Prue ran away from home and married a Highland Scot. I became too ugly for anyone of substance to consider marrying. He threatened to throw me out many times, but I managed his home well at little cost to him.”
“You were useful, so he kept you,” guessed Lily.
“Yes. I never went out in society, so I didn’t need expensive clothing. Father recently passed, leaving everything to my cousin.”
“Is that why you rode the Bride Train, to get a home of your own?”
Amelia nodded. She glanced toward the door and lowered her voice. “I took everything I wanted from my mother’s side of the family. I packed it up and had it shipped here by train.” She frowned and leaned forward. “Do you think Ross will be angry? I paid for everything.”
“What is it you paid for that would make your husband angry?”
She gasped and turned to the open door. Ross waited, expression blank, one hand still on the knob.
“Get yer corpse outer the way, Ross MacDougal, or I’ll ram right through that fancy, black suit yer wearin’.”
The woman with a deep voice must have jabbed him with the tray he carried, as he grunted and moved aside. She wore a gray work dress and white apron. An old-fashioned white mob cap was pinned to the braids wrapped in a crown around her head. She set the tray on the low table in front of them and began setting out cups, saucers, and spoons. She moved the plate of sugared doughnuts, a pyramid with a missing top, in front of Lily. Amelia looked closely at Ross. Sure enough, his upper lip had a suspicious sparkle to it.