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Authors: Eugenia Riley

Tags: #Time Travel, #American West, #Humor

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BOOK: Bushedwhacked Bride
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“Poor thing.”

“What do you mean, poor thing? Isn’t that a female’s
lot?”

Jessica harrumphed. “You would think that, like some
throwback to the nineteenth century.”

He appeared perplexed. “Lady, the last time I looked,
this
is
the nineteenth century. It may be the year 1888, but
we haven’t passed the century mark yet.”

Jessica was speechless.
It may be the year 1888!
Heav
ens, the man
must
be joking, but, with a sick, sinking
feeling, Jessica somehow knew he wasn’t. What on earth
had happened to her? Had she died? Or was she really liv
ing in the year 1888 now?

Whatever had happened to her, it was obvious Cole Reklaw
believed
they were living in the year 1888, and
there was little point arguing with him about it, or trying to convince him that she was from another time.

In the tense silence, Cole strode back toward Jessica.
Then he stared again. Long and hard. Much as Jessica
was outraged, she also felt extremely vulnerable, totally
exposed to the whims of this powerful man. She knew he
couldn’t really see much of her body, not with her legs
folded up against her chest as they were. But the fact that they both were well aware of her nakedness put her at a
distinct disadvantage. Especially since she sensed Cole was at last gearing up to give her that promised piece of
his mind.

But again, he surprised her, murmuring, “You know,
you make a pretty picture sitting there, your hair all
bunched up on your head and your cheeks all rosy.”

At last righteous indignation overcame Jessica’s fear. “Don’t you dare try to compliment me, you snake. State
your business.”

His gaze hardened. “All right, lady, I will.”

“Well?”

He shifted from boot to boot. “The truth is, I don’t
like you being here, even though Ma’s taken a shine to
you—”

“You don’t like?” she mocked. “You and your brothers
are the bullies who brought me here against my will. In fact, you’re the jackass who threw me across his horse.”

Cole was scowling at her ill-advised epithet. “That was
a mistake.”

She made a sound of disbelief. “Your humility as
tounds me.”

“Yeah, and if it were up to me, I’d pitch your butt right back into the nearest arroyo,” he shot back. “But the boys
and Ma want you here, so I reckon I’ll allow you to stay
awhile.”

“You’ll
allow
. . .? How generous of you. But actually, I’d much prefer to
leave.”

“So you can turn us over to the law?” he scoffed.
“Sorry, sugar, but you don’t have a say about that right
now.”

She glared.

He cast her a stern look. “Don’t you go putting on airs
and acting peeved. We both know you’ve got yourself a sweet deal here.”

“A
sweet
deal?” she repeated, incredulous.

“Yeah. All you have to do is to bat those big green eyes
of yours, and you’ll have yourself a husband and a home for the taking.”

Jessica was incredulous. “What gives with you people? Why do you assume every woman wants a husband and a home?”

He shook a finger at her. “You just hush up and listen. I want you to know I’m wise to you and your feminine
wiles, and I don’t trust you. If I get any hint you’re play
ing loose with my brothers’ affections, or giving them
over to the law, I’ll shoot you in your tracks. So I’m
warning you to mind your p’s and q’s while you’re
here.”

Jessica was fed up with him. “Thanks so much for the lovely lecture. Now go to hell.”

He lunged closer, hovering over her, and spoke in a
harsh whisper. “I’m warning you. And I’ve had about all
the lip from you I can abide. Any more sass, and I’m
gonna haul you up out of that tub and blister your butt,
naked or not. You got that straight, lady?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she raged.

“Wouldn’t I?”

“Your ma would kill you.”

He straightened and assumed a defiant stance. “I’m not afraid of her.”

‘Tell that to her broom,” Jessica retorted. “Much as
you and your brothers try to act like he-men, I’ve already
learned that in the Reklaw household, ‘Ma’ is
the law.”

He fought a grudging smile. “Maybe I just don’t cotton
to shooting ladies.”

“I’m so relieved to hear it.”

“Don’t be.”

“Why not?”

His handsome, arrogant face again loomed close to her.
“‘Cause I’m not convinced you’re a lady, for all your
stuck-up sass. I think maybe you really are some line gal,
down on your luck and putting on airs. I’m not even sure
you’re good enough for my baby brothers.”

“Oh!” Furious, Jessica slapped him.

Cole caught her wrist. Too late, she watched the anger flare in his dark eyes. Oh, Lord. He would kill her now!

Instead, he leaned over and boldly captured her lips. Jessica’s strangled protest died away in her throat. Cole’s
kiss was hard and hot, unexpectedly provocative. And
sexy as hell. When she tried to pull away, he simply
caught her nape with a strong hand and continued the
sensual punishment. The beast. He knew she couldn’t re
ally fight him, naked as she was.

Then abruptly he changed tactics and gentled his kiss,
teasing her tongue with his own. Heavens, this was
worse. A helpless shudder seized Jessica, and she
clenched and unclenched her fists. His tongue pushed
deeper, mating with her own, and she was left reeling.

Oh, he was ruthless, brazenly arousing her with his
kiss. She hated him, but hated her traitorous body’s re
sponse even more. She could feel the ecstatic singing in
her blood, the tautening of her nipples, and the way desire flooded deep inside her belly. He left her no pride.

Then, just as abruptly as he had begun, he pulled away, and stared into her dazed face, his own eyes dark with de
sire. “Who knows, lady? I might just keep you for myself.”

Jessica burned to claw his eyes out, but knew if he re
taliated again, she’d be lost. “Will you please get out of
my sight?” she demanded, voice trembling.

He straightened. “My pleasure, lady.”

He strode for the door, and Jessica fought a groan at
the view of long, beautifully muscled legs and too-cute
male butt. She couldn’t resist a final volley. “So when did
you decide you wanted to compete?”

He whirled, and his voice came deep and husky.
“When you rubbed against me on my horse. You made
me hot. Made me wonder what you’d be like bobbing
away to the rhythm of a man.”

“You are a brute.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledged proudly. “And you’d best re
member it.”

“I thought you said you don’t like playing games—”

He strode to her side again, pressing his hands on either side of the tub and leaning close, so close that she
could see the sexy whiskers along his jaw, could smell his
scent, and could feel the heat of his stare. “That’s right, I
don’t play games, lady. I’m deadly serious. But I like
contests. And I like winning.”

Then, for the first time, Cole Reklaw grinned. Complete with dimples, wickedly gleaming eyes, and a flash
of perfect white teeth. It was devastating. And even sex
ier than his brazen kiss.

Then he was gone, and Jessica was burning. Indeed, she
was amazed to see no steam rise from her tepid bathwater.

 

Chapter Six

Back to Contents

 

Jessica grabbed her wrapper, hastily donned it, and dashed
back inside the house, entering Ma’s bedroom through the
door connecting it to the porch. She stood pressed against
the antique armoire, breathing hard, cheeks still hot.

Oh, the nerve of that man, coming out on the porch and
ogling her in her naked state, lecturing her on how to be
have—as if
he
were a paragon of virtue!—then auda
ciously kissing her. She yearned to throttle the beast—but
even more, she burned from his maddening kiss.

She felt giddy, unsettled, confused, and still couldn’t make sense of anything—her apparent journey across
time, the five Old West outlaws who had captured her, this
primitive house they had brought her to. Where
was
she?

Jessica walked over to the dresser and picked up the
old-fashioned cameo which had stuck her right before
she’d made her remarkable journey. She held it up to the
light, but the mysterious flickers she’d spotted earlier
were absent now. Nonetheless, she opened it and experimentally pricked her finger, only to wince. If she’d hoped
to be released from time-travel purgatory, she was sorely disappointed.

The sound of a plaintive
mrooow
distracted her, and Jessica turned to see the mama cat standing on the edge of the bed, gazing at Jessica with large green eyes, back arched expectantly as she waited to be petted.

Jessica smiled. “Well, hello, Jezebel.”

Setting down the cameo, she walked over and stroked
the cat; it purred and licked her hand. The contact with
the animal somehow comforted and soothed her, and she
scooped the feline up into her arms.

“Where are you keeping those kittens of yours, eh?”
Jessica asked. “You know, Cole seems to think you and I
share just about the same morals.”

The cat seemed pleased at this, from her loud purring.

“Hey, want to explore the house, Jezebel?”

The cat
mrooowed
in the affirmative. Avoiding the bed
room directly ahead of her—which Ma had already in
formed her was Cole’s room—Jessica exited through a
side door and emerged into the long central hallway with
its planked floors, braided rugs, and pier table near the
front door.

The farmhouse was divided into two wings flanking ei
ther side of the hallway. Behind Jessica were stacked the
two bedrooms; ahead stretched the parlor and kitchen.

She entered the parlor first. Though the small, square
room was neat, it was crudely furnished with a ratty horse
hair settee, two wing chairs with cracked leather uphol
stery, and a scarred
Windsor
rocker. A stone fireplace filled
one wall, with two
Winchester
rifles hanging above it.

On a tea table obviously well scarred by men’s boots
were scattered a few books and journals. Jessica eagerly
perused them, and was amazed to find several dime novels
in a series entitled “The Wild West,” as well as a
Fanner’s
Almanac
from the year 1887! A shudder swept her.

“Any idea where I really am, Jezebel?” Jessica mut
tered. “ ‘Cause I’ve got no clue.”

Again, a contented purring was her only answer. But
increasingly Jessica doubted that these sorts of accou
trements were merely props in some elaborate play
staged to deceive her.

At the back of the room, an archway connected the par
lor to the kitchen, and Jessica stepped down into the large
stone-floored room, which was the same width as the par
lor but almost twice as long. At once the cat struggled to
get down; Jessica set her on the floor, and Jezebel
bounded over to lap milk from a saucer.

Straightening, Jessica found her senses were besieged
by a potpourri of smells: bacon fat emanating from the cast-iron stove; garlic, chives, and other spices spilling
their pungent aromas from the drying rack overhead;
newly cut mint and parsley adding dashes of freshness from the sideboard.

The room itself amazed her, from its huge pine trestle
table with benches along the sides and chairs at either
end, to the quaint pie safe with tin doors punched to
admit air, to the antique pine sideboard crammed with
blue pottery depicting Currier and Ives scenes.

Jessica half jumped at the sound of the back door
creaking open. Then with relief she watched Ma enter
bearing an enamel tub filled with several raw chickens.

“Ah, there you are, missy,” Ma said, lumbering over to
the sideboard and setting down her load. “Enjoy your
bath?”

Jessica considering telling Ma about Cole’s treachery,
then thought better of it. “Yes. Quite pleasant.”

Ma raised an eyebrow. “You know you shouldn’t be
gallivanting about the house in that risqué getup.”

“But you took my clothes,” Jessica protested.

Ma chuckled. “Yep, everything is washed and hung up,
though I must say you have some mighty peculiar undergarments, missy. Is that what you womenfolk wear in the
cities these days?”

“Er—yes,” Jessica stammered.

“Well, what have times come to? Anyhow, everything
should be dry before dinner.”

‘That’s good. Thanks.”

“You thirsty?”

“Actually, yes.”

Ma gestured at a glass pitcher on the sideboard. “I’ll
get you some tea.”

Realizing Ma’s hands were doubtless still filthy from
butchering hens, Jessica hastily offered, “No, I’ll do it.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll get the grease to heating.”

Jessica went to the sideboard. Rummaging in the cab
inet above, she found a small, clean Mason jar, filled it with tea, and added a fresh mint sprig. Turning toward
Ma, she grimaced at the sight of the woman ladling a
huge chunk of white lard into a cast-iron frying pan.

“Have you—um—had your cholesterol checked recently?” she remarked.

“Huh?” asked an obviously befuddled Ma.

“I take it we’re having fried chicken for dinner?”

“Yep.” Ma wiped her hands on her filthy apron. “But
first I’d best get you settled, missy, before one of the boys
comes in and spots you in that scandalous getup.”

Jessica took a sip of tea. “Good point.”

“Come along. I’ll show you where you’ll be bunking.”

Jessica followed Ma back through the parlor, into the
hallway, and across to the front bedroom. She paused in
the doorway of the pleasant room with its braided rug and
pine furnishings. “Wait—isn’t this Cole’s room?”

Ma was already at the four-poster bed, pulling off the
pillows and quilts. “Not anymore. I already met up with
my eldest in the yard and gave him the news. That
varmint kidnapped you, so he can give up his room for a
spell and sleep with his brothers in the bunkhouse.”

Jessica chuckled. “Sounds like a fitting punishment.”

“Missy, would you fetch me a set of clean sheets?” Ma
asked, huffing away as she pulled off more bedding. “I recollect there’s one in the bottom drawer of the bureau.”

“Sure.” Jessica crossed the room, noting a pair of
Cole’s dusty boots sitting beneath the front window, his hat hung on a peg near the bureau. Setting her tea down
on the dresser scarf, she leaned over, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a set of white, embroidered sheets
scented with spicy sachet.

She crossed over and handed them to Ma. “Here you
are. May I help you?”

“Sure.”

Jessica watched Ma plump up the tick, sending feath
ers into the air. Then the two women stretched the bottom
sheet over the mattress and tucked it in. They were un
folding the top sheet when Jessica heard a male throat being cleared. Both women turned to see Cole lounging in the doorway, his wickedly glinting eyes focused on Jessica. Jessica felt herself blushing at the sight of him, especially as she recalled their earlier intimacies, and
quickly ascertained from his expression that his thoughts were equally decadent. Her fingers automatically moved
to the top button of her wrapper, which was heavy muslin
but hardly the stoutest covering.

Ma spoke first, her tone indignant. “What are you
doing here, you rascal? Can’t you see the lady is in a state
of disarray?”

Cole chuckled, his intent gaze still focused on Jessica.
“Yeah, I can see. But since you’ve banned me from my
own room, can’t I at least fetch my clothes?”

Ma waved him in. “Go ahead, varmint. But rattle
your hocks. After that, this room is off-limits, you
hear?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am, I hear,” Cole drawled, striding arro
gantly toward the dresser. He paused to regard Jessica
with amusement. “My, but you scrub up nice, Miss
Jessie. Enjoy your bath?”

As Jessica glared, Ma scolded, “Hush up that scandalous talk! And who told you the lady had a bath?”

Cole jerked a thumb toward Jessica. “Isn’t it obvious? Her skin’s all rosy
. . .
” He paused, deliberately sniffing
the air. “And I can smell your lavender soap on her.”

Ma shook a finger at her son. “Enough! You and your
no-good brothers have already tried my patience sorely,
so don’t think I won’t fetch my broom again and give you
your comeuppance. Quit sniffing the lady like a tomcat
on the prowl and gather up your things.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tossing a last leer at Jessica, Cole busied himself at the
bureau, while Ma and Jessica finished making up the bed.
Smoothing down the quilt, Jessica turned to see Cole holding a large stack of folded shirts, denim pants, and longjohns, and once again staring at her boldly.

“Aren’t you finished?” she asked him irritably.

‘That depends,” came his cocky reply.

Before Jessica could respond, Ma waved her arms.
“Get out of here, you devil, and leave the lady in peace. I
reckon she’ll want a nap before dinner.”

Cole solemnly winked at Jessica. “Yeah, she does look
done in. But shouldn’t I stay and show her the most com
fortable spot on the bed?”

Both women gasped. Luckily, Ma was the first to hurl
a pillow at Cole, or Jessica would have. As for Cole—the exasperating rogue merely ducked the missile and dashed
out the door, laughing all the while.

***

After Ma left, Jessica found that, indeed, she was exhausted, and she took a brief nap on the downy feather
tick. Although the sheets were clean, she could still smell
Cole’s essence in the bed—the scent of his skin, his
hair—and this sensual presence, as well as memories of
their heated kiss, rose to torment her, especially as she recalled his offering to show her the softest spot on the bed.
She knew exactly what the scamp had in mind—how he
would love to find that spot somewhere deep inside
herself as
he drove into her.

Oh, what had this man done to her? Her thoughts were appalling! Jessica tossed about and punched up her pillow.

What tortured her the most was the daunting truth that Cole Reklaw would doubtless be a wonderful lover, his approach as hot, raw, and virile as his searing kiss. And unfortunately, great sex wasn’t exactly an everyday oc
currence in Jessica’s life of dull academia—in fact, it had
been years since she’d experienced anything close to having her socks knocked off. If one kiss from Cole Reklaw
could rattle her world so thoroughly, she couldn’t even
imagine the upheaval to her universe of spending a night
in bed with this sexy, dangerous man.

Good heavens, why was she even thinking such a
thing? Giving in to Cole would be a disastrous decision,
even if it was what her treacherous libido craved the
most!

***

When Jessica awakened, her clean undergarments and
starched, pressed gown were laid out at the foot of the bed. Smelling fried chicken, she realized she was famished, and
remembered that she hadn’t eaten since this morning—
whenever
that
had been. For that matter, it was possible she
hadn’t eaten for over a hundred years. Shuddering at the
mind-boggling possibility, she quickly dressed and
combed her hair.

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