Texas Lucky

by Maggie James

  Tess tried very hard to express her concern for his welfare so he would not think she was just being a nagging wife, but he lost his temper and went into a rage.

  Still in his nightshirt, he stormed about the room yelling loud enough for anyone nearby to hear that he had lived up to his bargain to see that she had everything she wanted, and it was none of her business what he did otherwise.

  Tess knew it was the liquor making him so mean and that there was no use in continuing to try to talk to him.

  She turned to go, but he suddenly, and without warning, grabbed her and threw her down on the bed, crying, “My money wasn’t enough for you, was it? You wanted this, too, didn’t you? You little strumpet.”

  She did not fight him, too filled with pity.

  He ripped the front of her dress, yanked up her skirt, spread her legs, and tried to push himself into her, but his limpness prevented him.

  Then he rolled off of her to sob and beat the mattress with his fists.

  Tess left him then, forced to muster what dignity she could and hold her head high as she walked out of the hotel holding her torn bodice together.

  He came home a week later, acting as though nothing had happened, and Tess wondered if he even remembered it. But she was not about to say anything, having vowed afterward to concentrate on running the ranch and let him live his life as he chose.

  Yet it was a lonely, miserable time, and all she was living for was the hope that one day there would be word of Perry. Imagining what life must be like for him haunted her day and night.

  As for thoughts of Curt and how he had kissed her, Tess tried to dismiss it all from her mind but failed.

  Had he done it, she wondered, to remind her how she had once wantonly fallen into his arms, and to torment her by stirring passion he somehow knew he could still invoke?

  It had happened—and ended—so quickly that there had not been time to search his face, his eyes, for answer. She hoped she would not see him again, that she would be nowhere around when he came to have his mare serviced by Saber. But, as fate would have it, the day he showed up, all the hands were working on a distant range, and no one was about except the household servants, who never went near the outbuildings.

  There had been a bad thunderstorm during the night that had triggered a stampede and scattered the herd. Granger had told her he was taking all the hands to gather them up, and she had promised to join them as soon as she finished her monthly work on the ledgers.

  When a servant came to tell her Curt was asking for her, Tess groaned and slapped her forehead. There was nothing she could do but face him.

  “You came at a bad time,” she said curtly, rudely, when she walked down the steps of the sweeping front porch to meet him.

  He smiled down at her from his horse. “Well, tell the mare that, Tess. Not me.”

  She ignored his attempt at humor. “You’ll find Saber in his stall. You can take care of it.”

  She hurried back inside without giving him a chance to say anything more.

  But, back at her desk, she could not concentrate and finally gave up the ledgers, only to pace restlessly around the room.

  She did not like the idea of Curt taking over her horse, even to mate him. He was hers, as was the ranch, and Curt had no right running any aspect of it, and—

  She jumped, startled, as a loud roll of thunder shook the house.

  Rushing to the window, she stared out to see that the sky overhead had ominously turned dark as lightning flashed in the distance.

  Another storm was brewing and it looked bad.

  She looked toward the stable and the corral beside it, expecting to see Curt there with the horses, but it was empty. The door to the stable was closed, however, and she realized he had probably seen the storm building and kept them in there.

  Well, he could just wait till another time, she fumed as she left the office and hurried down the hall to the front door. With the storm about to break any minute, she did not want him stranded in it, did not want him to be on her land any longer than necessary.

  She felt a few raindrops as she hurried across the yard.

  The wind was starting to blow and thunderclaps seemed closer. Anxious for shelter, she entered through the tack room at the end of the stable, rather than the front door.

  It was dark, and she paused to allow her eyes to adjust.

  The air was pungent with the loamy smell of animals and hay.

  Ahead, through the short corridor that ran between the rooms on either side, she could hear the horses whinnying and snorting, and the wild and vicious stamping of their hooves.

  Venturing closer, Tess realized the mating had begun. The mare was tied to a railing, her hind legs hobbled, and Saber was reared up on her back.

  Tess began to back away, face flaming.

  It was not something she wanted to witness with a man, especially not Curt and she was relieved he had not realized she was about.

  She turned to go, but stumbled in her haste and bumped into a feeding bucket hanging from a stall.

  At the loud clanging, Curt whirled about and saw her. “Tess, what are you doing here?”

  “Uh…” she floundered, and then her words tumbled out in a nervous rush. “I came to tell you that you should go. The weather is getting bad, and you’ll get caught in it going home.”

  She bit her lip, thinking she sounded like a mother hen fretting over a chick.

  Curt walked over to her. He was not smiling. In fact, as Tess tried to read his eyes, she could see no message there at all, only a strange, heated gleam.

  “It went well,” he said when he stood only a foot away from her. “My mare was eager, I’m afraid.”

  There was the play of a smile on his lips.

  “Oh, I see.” Tess could feel her face grow even hotter to hear the sound of flesh pummeling flesh and know what it meant. “Well, I hope you don’t get wet going home,” she said thinly, feeling so very, very foolish.

  “I don’t mind.”

  She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, unnerved at how he continued to stare at her, then said, “I’d best get back. I don’t want to get caught out here when the storm breaks, and—”

  “Why not?” He put his hands on her waist and yanked her against him.

  She gasped to feel his hardness at the same instant she felt the first tingle of desire rush through her loins.

  “Why can’t you stay, Tess?” He moved his hands to her back as he began to brush his lips across her face. “You have no reason to be scared of me. I’ll stop anytime you say…”

  But that was just it, her heart screamed, she did not want him to stop. She wanted him to hold her tighter and tighter and make her feel as she once had—cherished, desired.

  She arched her neck, head falling back against his arm as he scooped her up and carried her into the stall.

  “Tell me to stop now,” he said huskily, lips burning everywhere they touched as he worked frantically at the buttons of her blouse. “Tell me this isn’t what you want as much as I do, that you haven’t been dreaming about it night and day…”

  But she did want it and had dreamed about it and could no more have denied him than turned back the raging storm that was right over them.

  The stable seemed to tremble from not only the fury of the weather but the frenzy of the horses as well.

  “We…we shouldn’t,” Tess moaned as he pulled her down to the thick, pungent hay covering the floor.

  “But we can’t help it,” he whispered raggedly.

  And the violence within and without emboldened their lust, obliterating all reason.

  Their hands were frantic as they shed their clothing, both wanting nothing between them but hot, raw flesh to mate as savagely as the screaming horses beyond.

  Tess moaned and thrashed beneath him as he began to work his lips down her body at the same time his hands danced their own special torment.

  Tweaking her nipples in a sweet kind of pain before devouring each with his t
ongue, Tess was bedazzled with longing and pressed against him till his mouth was filled with her.

  He touched her belly, twirling his finger in her navel before diving down to the soft thatch between her legs.

  She undulated her hips as he parted her with his fingers and plunged inside, deep and hard.

  Clutching his back, her nails dug into the rock-hard flesh, but he did not wince against the pain.

  And then, when she thought she could stand no more of his delicious assault, he dove his head between her to drive her to such ecstasy that she screamed out loud, heels pounding the floor as he took her to near climax.

  He moved above her to sweep her with carnal eyes, then whispered, “Tell me you’ve wanted this, Tess. Tell me you’ve wanted it as I have…”

  His hard shaft was pulsating against her belly as he maneuvered onto his knees to straddle her.

  “Yes, oh, yes,” she admitted, bending her legs in readiness to receive him.

  The thunder crashed, and lightning exploded as the storm neared its peak.

  In the stable arena, Saber was reaching his own crescendo of ecstasy.

  And suddenly Curt flipped Tess over onto her back to take them both to glory in the same way.

  Shudders of joy swept over her like the tide crashes onto the shore, as he held her tight, by her hips, pulling her against him to meet each driving thrust.

  Then, with a gasp and a shudder he froze against her, never wanting to let go.

  And neither did Tess move, not wanting the moment of ultimate closeness to end.

  The horses finally stopped their prancing, the mating completed, and became still.

  So, also, did Tess and Curt return from their soaring flight to the stars and heavens above.

  They lay side by side in the straw, oblivious to the pricking strands against sweat-slick flesh.

  For a long time, neither spoke, and then Curt broke the silence by saying, “I want you to know I’m sorry, Tess. You’re a married woman. I had no right. I just wanted you so goddamn bad I couldn’t help myself. And the horses, well…” He shook his head in self-disgust. “I got carried away. I should have been stronger.”

  “So should I,” she said lamely. ‘But I couldn’t help it. It’s been so long, and—” she caught herself, about to confide that hers was a loveless marriage.

  Curt rolled to prop himself on an elbow and gaze down at her. “Then I take it you and Wendell don’t make love very often.”

  Suddenly Tess decided it was too late to be shy with him about anything. “We never have.”

  He was stunned. “Then why did he marry you?”

  “He said it was for companionship, but then he got the gambling fever. He hardly ever comes home anymore.”

  Curt rolled on his back to stare up at the rafters in the barn. “I know. I’ve heard and wondered how you put up with it. They say he’s a big gambler and a big loser. He must really be rich to be able to afford it.”

  “He is,” she confirmed. “I don’t know how rich, but he keeps money in the bank for me, so I ask no questions.”

  He was quiet for a moment, then abruptly rolled to face her again. “Tess, I don’t like you thinking I stole your money. I took it for the reason I said, and I swear I mailed it to that address in Philadelphia.”

  “I believe you. I think I believed you even when you first told me. I was glad to think Perry might benefit from Aunt Elmina having it…only it didn’t turn out that way.” Her voice cracked.

  Curt quickly drew her to him. “I wish there was something I could do. I know it’s got to be hell for you, Tess, but he’s probably all right. I’ve heard Quanah Parker treats his white captives better than most Indians because he had a white mother. And maybe after they make a warrior out of your brother, he’ll have the freedom to escape and find you.”

  “But that could be years from now.”

  “No, it won’t. From what you told me, he’s old enough for them to start training him now, so it might not be long at all.”

  “I hope so,” she said fervently. “I pray so. But oh, Curt, I get so terribly, terribly lonely.”

  “You’ve got me now.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead, then kissed her long and deep before warning, “But we have to be careful no one finds out.”

  She nodded in assent, all the while struggling against the stab of pain to know that he only wanted her for what her body could give and nothing more.

  But what difference did it make? she reasoned. She was married to another man. And while she might be driven to Curt’s arms for the womanly needs of her body that could no longer be denied, she had no right to love him…or expect him to love her.

  Only she did love him.

  With every breath she drew.

  But he could not know that, because if he did, it might frighten him away and then she would have nothing…no one.

  They made love again, more gently this time, slowly savoring every thrill that rippled through their bodies.

  Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms as the rain pelting the tin roof beat a staccato in unison to the pounding of their hearts.

  And, as the storm abated and the world became calm and serene once more, Tess forced herself to draw from his embrace to reluctantly say, “We’d better go, Curt. If anyone finds us in here…”

  “You’re right.” He was on his feet and gathering his clothes before the words were out of her mouth.

  When they were both dressed and he was ready to leave, he said, “Look, I don’t feel good about this. I mean, it’s risky, us making love around here. You never know when Wendell is going to come riding up, like the other day when—”

  “When you kissed me,” she finished for him. “And I know what you mean, but what can we do?”

  “I’ll think of something.” He cupped her chin and gave her a quick kiss, then hurried on his way.

  Tess walked to the stable door and watched him ride away in the crisp, fresh air after the rain.

  She was not, she vowed, going to think about the wrong of it.

  Only the right of it.

  Because loving Curt was all she had for comfort in the dark, bleak moments of despair that plagued her life of late.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  She was on top of him.

  With her head thrown back, Tess ran her fingers through her hair, moaning as she undulated her hips, setting her own rhythm.

  Curt enjoyed giving her full rein to enjoy him inside her to the fullest. Every so often she would raise herself above him, then slide down the length of him to impale herself with a soft little sigh.

  He alternated between squeezing her breasts as she rode him and cupping her buttocks to press her tighter as she met his every thrust.

  He could feel the velvet squeezing of her sex against him as he began to move harder, lifting his hips from the ground.

  Clutching her tightly, he rocked relentlessly as he tried to draw her yet closer, willing himself to plunge so deep he could imagine touching her very soul.

  They crested together, and the rapture seemed to go on forever, holding them imprisoned in each other’s arms, bodies fused as neither wanted to return from that magic plane touched only by lovers.

  Finally, she slumped against him, still impaled, her head resting against his shoulder as she gasped.

  He could feel the rapid pounding of her heart, which vied with his own.

  Beyond her, the sky was beginning to pale as steel blue fingers of dusk began creeping to drive away the day.

  The air was cool and crisp, and as the heat of passion began to fade, he could feel her shiver ever so slightly as he continued to hold her.

  Summer was quickly fading.

  Autumn was on the horizon.

  And soon they could not meet in the tall grasses to satiate their never-ending hunger for each other.

  She moved away from him. “We’ve stayed too long again,” she said as she began to gather her scattered clothing. “Granger will be worrying over me riding
off by myself.”

  “What has he said?”

  “Well, a few times he’s made the comment how it’s not safe even if I do have a gun. And though he hasn’t asked, I’m sure he wonders why I leave by myself several times a week.”

  Curt had been afraid that would happen. After all, she had been slipping off to meet him for over a month, and she was bound to run out of excuses for disappearing for hours at a time.

  He also worried that somebody might mention it to Wendell, and then he might start to wonder, too, and—

  “Curt, you’re frowning,” Tess noted with concern.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing,” he lied, staring up at her as he watched her dress.

  He had made no move to get up, because he was in no hurry.

  After all, there was no one he had to answer to. He was his own boss, and nobody cared what he did.

  And every time he reminded himself of that fact, he was struck with a sense of loneliness.

  Tess pulled on her boots. She was ready to leave but knelt beside him to brush his thick, dark hair back from his forehead. “When do you want to meet again?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, moving from her touch, for her hand was suddenly like a branding iron, drawing the pain of self-recrimination. “You’d better get going before it gets any darker. Granger might come looking for you.”

  She stayed beside him to tenderly say, “It’s always so hard to leave you, Curt, especially when I don’t know when I’ll see you again. It’s risky for you to find excuses to stop by the ranch to let me know, and—”

  “Saturday,” he said brusquely, wanting her to leave before he lost control and grabbed her to never let her go. “It’s payday. All the hands will be either in Dallas or at Gilley’s. Come to my place around four. They’ll be gone by then.”

  “What about your”—she hesitated, for it still needled her to wonder whether the Mexican girl yet considered him her lover—“your housekeeper. Won’t she be working?”

  “She’ll be gone, too. Probably by one or two o’clock.” He had made up his mind to let Sanchina go. A man cook was what he needed, not some crazy girl who was constantly trying to crawl in his bed in hopes of roping him into marriage.