The Convenient Mail Order Bride

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “A white man shot him.”

  “Was it someone from town?”

  “No. He roams around through the mountains. You don’t know him.” He gestured to the animal. “Your questions won’t get you out of skinning it.”

  “I wasn’t trying to get out of this chore,” she said, bringing the tip of the knife to the tail. “When did he shoot your uncle?”

  He waited until she made the initial cut into the skin before answering. “I was ten.”

  She looked at him. “Only ten?”

  “Cut,” he gently reminded her.

  As she did, he said, “He wanted a night with my mother.”

  Gasping, she stopped. “Tell me he didn’t get it.”

  His gaze met hers, and she saw the pain in his eyes. “Would telling you what you want to hear change the fact that it happened?”

  “That’s terrible,” she whispered.

  “She had a gun in the house, but she refused to learn how to use it. Knowing how to use a gun makes all the difference. She had time to shoot. She could have prevented it.”

  “Where was your father when this happened?”

  “With his wife, where he should have been to begin with, but I guess if he’d stayed where he belonged, I wouldn’t have been born.”

  She straightened up. It was probably a hard thing to be thankful to be alive, knowing he’d been the product of adultery. Unless… “Did your father do the same thing that man did?” She cleared her throat. “Force himself on her?”

  “No. She wanted to be with him.” His eyes went skyward. “God only knows what she saw in him. My mother wasn’t perfect, but she was my mother.”

  “And your uncle was alright with it?”

  “My uncle didn’t like it, but since my father gave him gifts he could use around the place, I guess he made his peace with it, or at least tolerated it.”

  “What happened after your uncle died? Did your father keep coming around?”

  “Yes. Even more than before, and everyone knew about it. Phoebe, I’m never going to live down that shame. I know things are wild out here and that we don’t have the same rules they do back East. But even this town can’t forgive what happened between them. Do you really want to be the wife of a bastard?”

  There he went again, trying to dissuade her from being with him. “Abe, when I look at you, I don’t see a bastard. I see a man who works hard and cares enough about me to let me go if I think I’ll be happier elsewhere. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m where I want to be.”

  She turned her attention back to the fox and continued slowly and methodically cutting up to its chin.

  ***

  Abe wasn’t all that surprised when Phoebe couldn’t eat lunch. He had to skin an animal three times before he was able to eat anything. Unlike her, however, he hadn’t felt the need to take a bath. He brought in water from the well while her mother heated up water. He left Phoebe and her mother in the cabin afterwards to give her the privacy she needed. The last thing she needed was him standing around her when she was getting clean, even if they were married.

  He decided to tend to the garden so she wouldn’t have to. She’d done enough for the day. She didn’t need to do any more. When he was done, he went up to the loft and settled back on the blanket. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. It was his fault. He should have been more insistent Phoebe go back to the cabin. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have held her all through the night with a persistent erection keeping him awake.

  He closed his eyes and relaxed. As he did, he couldn’t help but remember how pale Phoebe had gotten while she pulled back the fox’s fur. She even had to stop everything and walk away for a couple minutes, especially when she had to remove the intestines. But she came right back and continued on. She made a couple of tears into the fur and punctured the heart, but overall, he was impressed she did as well as she did for her first attempt.

  This only went to prove that Phoebe wasn’t the type of person who made an idle boast. If she said she’d do something, she did it, even if it made her queasy. That was good. It meant she was tough. It meant she could adapt to anything life threw at her. In his entire life, he couldn’t think of a single person who’d impressed him more.

  “Abe, are you in here?”

  He opened his eyes and sat up. Sure enough, Phoebe had come into the barn to look for him. His lips curled up into a smile. He should have known she’d track him down.

  “Up here,” he told her and waved.

  She came over to the ladder and climbed up to the loft. “I did pretty good with that animal, didn’t I?” she asked as she sat beside him.

  “You did, but don’t get a swelled head. As soon as you think you know something, life has a way of reminding you that you really don’t.”

  “Oh, stop being so pessimistic.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “Given it was my first time, I was pleased by how well I did. I thought I wouldn’t be able to save any of that fox when I started.”

  “If that’s the case, then why were you so careful?”

  “I had to try my best. If I didn’t, you would have hauled me and Ma off to the stagecoach.”

  “That’s not true.” As much as he hated to admit it, he added, “You got the heart of a Cherokee. I should have known it was just a matter of time before you made your point.”

  She let out an excited gasp and hugged him. “So you’ll finally stop trying to get rid of me?”

  “Yeah, I suppose,” he said, though his tone wasn’t as reluctant as he wanted it to be.

  “You like having me around,” she teased.

  Despite himself, he felt his cheeks warm. “Maybe a little.”

  “You like it a lot.” With a playful twinkle in her eye, she added, “I like you, Abe. You’re a good man.”

  “Well, don’t let anyone know. It would ruin my image,” he joked. “I don’t think I could get through the town if people actually approved of me.”

  She chuckled and reached up to touch his hair. “I like your hair. It’s like silk. I wouldn’t have thought it possible for a man to have such lovely hair, but yours is one of the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

  Abe grimaced and nudged her hand away. Pretty, indeed! “My hair isn’t pretty, nor is it lovely. It’s the same hair my ancestors had. They wore it long with pride. I do the same. It separates me from the white man.”

  “I’m sorry. I won’t say it’s pretty or lovely. Can I say that of all the hair I’ve ever seen on men, yours is the best?”

  After considering her words, he nodded. Yes, he could allow that.

  She ran her fingers through his hair again. When he was young, his mother would comb his hair. He hadn’t cared much for it since she also had to work through his tangles, though she’d tried to be careful. The only reason he’d liked it at all was because his mother had been paying attention to him. Not that she hadn’t paid attention to him at other times, but this was one of the times when she hadn’t seemed to be ashamed of their heritage. She’d made him wear white boy’s clothes and only taught him the white man’s language. But his hair was one of the few things she’d allowed him to keep.

  So he had good memories attached to his hair. Even so, with Phoebe, the experience was different. Her movements were gentle and slow, and in some ways, this made it uniquely sensual. Phoebe wasn’t intending for it to be that way, of course. She had no idea what effect she was having on him, especially when she was sitting so close to him, and her breasts were touching his arm.

  When he made eye contact with her, he caught sight of something he’d never seen before. Acceptance. There was more than that, though. A deeper look revealed desire and love. The two were so intertwined he couldn’t separate one from the other. One thing was clear. She wanted him to kiss her.

  His heartbeat picked up as he cupped the side of her face with a shaky hand. The moment seemed suspended in time, and he was aware this was the only chance he had of turning away from where this was leading. There were a million rea
sons he could think of why it was in her best interest he not proceed with where his thoughts were going, the most notable one was knowing if he did, her future would be tied to his forever. There would be no turning back. She’d be forced to live in a town surrounded by people who would never fully accept her because of her association with him.

  She leaned closer to him and closed her eyes, a silent invitation to kiss her. He tried to resist. He told himself she could never really be happy living in a place like this, that he needed to do what was best for her. But the instant her lips touched his, all thoughts of running away departed.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist, and he brought her closer to him as he deepened the kiss. She didn’t pull away. In fact, she responded very nicely to him, snuggling closer against him and slipped her arms around his neck. The spark of desire their kiss had started was quickly winding its way around him, prompting him to cast aside the last of his resistance.

  With a low moan, he traced her lower lip with his tongue, and she parted her lips, allowing him into her mouth. Soon, their tongues were interlacing, and everything around them faded away. All that existed—all that mattered—was the two of them.

  He brought his hand to one of her breasts and cupped it in his hand, noticing how soft it was. Up to now, he’d only imagined what it’d be like to touch a woman’s breast. It was his favorite part on the female body, though he’d always made sure not to let his gaze linger on there too long, and Phoebe had been no exception.

  Since she’d come to live with him, he’d often fought the urge to stare at her breasts, lest he embarrass her, or worse, disgust her. But she wasn’t disgusted by the idea of making love to him. If anything, she seemed excited about it, and that only made his erection grow harder.

  Still kissing her, he encouraged her to lie back on his blanket then settled beside her. He traced the curve of both breasts over the fabric of her shirtwaist. As wonderful as it felt, his fingers itched to slide under her clothes so he could enjoy her bare flesh.

  He’d like to say he was graceful as he unbuttoned her shirtwaist, but the truth of the matter was, those buttons were awfully small, making him struggle through it. Ending their kiss, he gave his full attention to the buttons. She, in turn, unfastened the buttons on his shirt. This mutual exchange of undressing the other was surprisingly arousing and only built up his anticipation for what was to come.

  Once he was finished with her buttons, he pulled the chemise up to her neck and took a moment to get his fill of her breasts. They were larger than they looked under the confines of her clothes, something that delighted him to no end. He took his time in touching them. Her skin was soft and smooth, just as he suspected she’d be. The rest of her was the same way, after all. But her nipples were hard. Intrigued, he traced them, noting the difference between them and the white flesh that surrounded them.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

  Without waiting for her to respond, he lowered his head to take one of the nipples into his mouth. She let out a moan and clasped his arms, her grip indicating her pleasure. Encouraged, he cupped one of her breasts in his hands and continued his ministrations, first paying attention to one nipple then going to the other.

  “I’m aching,” she murmured at one point while he was tracing the edges of one of her nipples.

  Aching? He lifted his head so he could get a look at her. Her eyes were closed, but there seemed to a mixture of pain and pleasure on her face, and he couldn’t figure out which one he should go by.

  “Am I hurting you?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t the case. God help him, but he didn’t think he could stop at this point, no matter how hard he might want to.

  “No. It feels good. It’s just…I think I need you to touch me down here.”

  She lifted her skirt and wiggled out of her bloomers, baring her legs and the dark blonde patch of curls between them. She spread her legs farther, giving him a generous view of her entrance. His penis strained to get in there, but he wasn’t ready for it yet. No. He had so much to explore first, so much to enjoy before he found completion in this act.

  She guided his hand between her legs. To his surprise, she was so wet one of his fingers slid in without any effort. She lifted her hips to take him further in, her warmth surrounding him and pulling him in deeper. Unable to resist the temptation, he slid another finger into her, and sure enough, it went in just as easily. He wasn’t sure who groaned the loudest, but he couldn’t think of anything else that felt this good. Her breasts had felt wonderful, but this seemed even more so.

  She lifted her hips again and began rocking them. “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s what I needed.” Then she pressed the palm of his hand against her sensitive nub.

  He was so fascinated by her uninhibited motions that he watched her as she rocked faster against his hand. Her expression was still the perfect blend of pleasure and pain, but her moans and raspy breathing assured him she was enjoying everything they were doing. He couldn’t recall a time when he’d seen anything more lovely.

  Then without warning, she grew still and cried out. Her slick passageway clenched and unclenched around him for several long moments before she let out a contented sigh and relaxed.

  She smiled at him. “I didn’t think it’d be that good,” she murmured then brought him closer to her so he was kissing her.

  This kissing, of course, led to him taking off his pants, and before long, he was settling between her legs. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer to her so his tip pressed into her entrance. He slid into her until he felt he came to her maidenhead. He pushed past her barrier but grew still when she gasped.

  “Phoebe?” he whispered, forcing himself to remain still for her sake.

  After a moment, she nodded. “It’s alright. Keep going.”

  He hesitated, but she shifted her hips, which made it easier for him to go all the way into her. There was no way she could possibly know how exquisite this simple action was. He kissed her, letting his tongue brush against hers, and then he proceeded to make love to her. He went slowly at first, just to make sure he wasn’t hurting her, and since she brought her hands to his rear end and encouraged him to move faster, he knew she wasn’t in any pain. After a while, she was even groaning in pleasure.

  He delayed the inevitable for as long as he could, purposely slowing down the momentum of his thrusting and shifting his attention to the trunk nearby. This was the best thing he’d ever experienced, and he had no intention of rushing through it. This was something to be savored. And he found there was greater pleasure to be had in drawing it out. Even she seemed to enjoy it, for she murmured his name and kissed his neck.

  When he finally decided to give into the urge to climax, he lowered his head to hers and gave her a long, lingering kiss. Then he buried his face in the nape of her neck and resumed his thrusting. She let out another cry, this one reminiscent of the one she’d let out when she was at her peak. The telltale clenching and unclenching of her core let him know she had, indeed, climaxed again. Groaning, he gave her one more thrust and released his seed. The surge of pleasure coursed over him, coming in waves, one right after the other. Slowly, each wave grew weaker and weaker until he was spent.

  He collapsed in her arms and embraced her, thrilled that she still had her legs wrapped around his waist, ensuring their intimate connection hadn’t been lost. He’d never felt so close to another person. For the first time in his life, he was whole. All along, a part of him had been missing and he didn’t know it until now.

  Once he was able to catch his breath, he rose up on his elbows and cupped her face in his hands. Her cheeks were still flushed from their lovemaking, and her eyes sparkled with joy, letting him know she had enjoyed their time together as much as he had.

  “I love you, Phoebe,” he whispered, caressing her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

  She smiled. “I love you, too.”

  He lowered his head and kissed her, not in any hurry to end it.r />
  Chapter Twenty

  Two weeks later, Phoebe shot the bottle off the post and turned to Abe with a smile on her face. “I got it. Now you have to give me a kiss.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I don’t recall us having that agreement.”

  “I just made it up. For every bottle I shoot, you have to kiss me.”

  After seeming to consider it, he finally consented and came over to kiss her. She knew he planned on a short one, which was why she put her arms around his neck and drew him closer for a longer kiss. He wasn’t hard to convince to linger at her lips. In fact, it was his tongue that brushed along her lower lip, sending a spark of pleasure straight through her. Soon, their tongues were intertwining, and she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard him let out a low moan.

  When their kiss ended, she couldn’t resist teasing him. “You don’t seem to mind giving me a kiss when I hit a bottle.”

  Though he offered a shrug, she caught a hint of a smile on his lips. “If it helps you get better at shooting, then who am I to argue? But,” he added before she could get another kiss from him, “your mother did say she was going to join us today, didn’t she?”

  “She did. She insisted on doing the dishes first. I figure we have another five minutes alone.”

  Despite her suggestive move in pressing her body against his, he said, “If you want another kiss, you have to shoot another bottle.”

  “You’re surprisingly stubborn on these matters, Abe.”

  “I’m the one who’s stubborn? You insisted on staying here with me.”

  “Which you secretly wanted but was too proud to admit.” She nudged him in the side and winked. “It’s alright. You can call me your convenient wife if you want.”

  “Well, it is certainly convenient to have you around.” He ran his hands down her back and cupped her behind in his hands.