Compromised Hearts (5 page)

A soft cry escaped her when he moved his mouth to her breasts. Although a small part of her cried out in denial, she buried her hands in his thick, glossy hair to hold his enticing mouth closer when his tongue began to taunt her nipples. Yet another cry escaped her, a cry of delight, as he replied to her unconscious urgings and drew the hard, aching tip of a breast deep into his greedy mouth.

Despite the blinding heat of her passion,
she jerked away from his touch when he slid his hand up her inner thigh. It was only a brief rejection of intimacy, for she soon succumbed to a fresh cascade of desire. Sensations, new and devastating, crashed over her from several sources. His mouth, his touch, and his rich deep voice all seduced her.

“God, you’re already hot for me … warm, welcoming.” He growled low in his throat as her fluttering hands shyly moved over him. “You can’t keep fighting it, little lady. It’s too strong.”

He slowly kissed his way back to her flushed face as she felt him position his legs between hers. Emily shuddered with a feeling that was far more anticipation than fear. Being a virgin and a moral young lady, she feared and rejected what was about to happen. However, her body betrayed her. It arched against him, begging for whatever he would give her.

Cloud took her mouth in a fierce kiss just as he plunged into her, but suddenly he stiffened, stilled by shock. He did not need to feel her withdrawal, to hear her low moan, to know he had just roughly shattered a young woman’s innocence. Releasing her mouth, he stared at her, noting that she had paled slightly and that her tear-bright gaze was accusing.

“You said you would not hurt me,” she rasped even as she felt the stinging pain begin to recede.

“I thought you’d already had a man.” He moved his hand over her body seeking to ease her tension and restore her passion. “I would’ve gone easier if I’d known.” Feeling her grow soft and warm again, he began to feather kisses over her face. “It always hurts a woman the first time.”

“That seems a strange and unfair arrangement,” she murmured huskily as her passion began to build again. She felt a ripple of delight when he chuckled against her throat. “Is that all there is to it?”

“Nope.” He began to move slowly and felt her tremble. “There’s more, darlin'.”

Emily found it suddenly difficult to talk. After a moment she did not need his guiding hands on her slim hips but matched his rhythm without urging. He positioned her legs around him and she clung to him as she felt herself dragged helplessly along.

Suddenly she panicked. Her body felt as if it were ready to hurl itself from some precipice. She tried to retreat from the edge, but he held her tight against him, murmuring nonsense that worked too soothe her sudden fear. Emily heard a strange cry even as she went under a blinding wave of sensation and realized that it came from her. She felt Cloud drive into her and held him there, her body drinking deeply of his release. The sound of her name breaking from his lips as he shuddered in her arms increased her own pleasure.

It was a while before he eased the intimacy
of their embrace. She lay still, feeling confused, then watched as he rose to fetch a cloth. A sensuous lethargy held her still and placid as he returned to the rough bed and pulled her into his arms.

“I knew it would be good,” he muttered softly as he smoothed his hands through her hair. “Whose boy is Thornton? Damn well isn’t yours as I’d first thought.”

“Why should you think he was mine?”

“He calls you mama and, although he doesn’t resemble you that much, he’s got green eyes.”

“Oh. Well, his name is Sears. He was the only child of the young couple I was traveling with.”

“Traveling alone? To Harper?” Cloud wondered why the unseen Harper was beginning to irritate him.

“Yes. It might seem foolhardy but it was my only chance. I was living with my sister, and it was not the best of situations. I was taking care of her children, but I began to think that she wished me to take care of her husband as well. Harper’s invitation seemed like the answer to my prayers.”

“A new life,” he said a little sarcastically.

“Perhaps not new, but at least different and, I hoped, better.” She sighed, overwhelmed by shame. “Who knows what will happen now.”

“Why do you say that? Because you’re a fallen woman?” he drawled.

“To me, it is far from a matter of jest,” she
snapped, fighting tears.

Rolling so that she was beneath him, he said, “Worried you face spinsterhood because you’re not a virgin anymore? That might have been the way of it back east, but not out here. Women are scarce, darlin'. Virginity ain’t all that important. A man out nere wants a woman, not a saint.”

Aware of his hard length and annoyed by that awareness, she said crossly, “I was not aiming to be a saint, but a sense of what’s right never hurt anyone.”

“Honey, this is right,” he growled as he touched his lips to the increasing pulse in her throat.

“This is what I should be doing with my lawfully wedded husband, not with you.” She gritted her teeth but failed to stem the warmth his touch engendered in her. “This is a sin.”

“What a little puritan. Your head might tell you that"—he watched the tips of her breasts harden invitingly beneath his touch—"but your body says sin be damned. I never had a virgin before,” he mused aloud as he bent his head to flick his tongue over each hard nub.

“Isn’t that wonderful,” she said in a sweet voice dripping with sarcasm, “I have given you a first.”

“Yes, you have,” he said slowly, but he was not referring to her innocence.

“You can’t mean to—well, to do it again?”
she gasped as she became fully aware of his renewed arousal.

“Certainly do, ma’am. Are you sore?” he asked in sudden concern.

“Well, not really,” she replied with an honesty that she could not restrain. “Should I be?”

“Might be tomorrow.”

“Then perhaps you ought to restrain yourself, since I must ride that beast tomorrow.”

“I’ll give you an extra blanket. The only thing I restrain myself from is restraining myself.”

“If everyone thought that way, the world would be in chaos.”

“Thought it was.” He brushed his lips over hers. “This time you’ll participate.”

“Not on your life.”

“It’s not my life at stake,” he reminded her coolly.

“You are a complete bastard, Mr. Ryder,” she said icily.

“So I’ve been told, darlin'. Now, shut up.”

Much to her annoyance, she did. Worse, she did participate to some extent. Yet again they scaled passion’s heights, their bodies in perfect sensual harmony. When he finally eased the embrace, the lethargy she had felt before now weighted her eyelids. She did not even have the strength to scold herself for the way she cuddled up to him.

“I must put some clothes on,” she murmured sleepily.

“No, you don’t.” He ran his hand slowly over her side until he let it rest upon the gentle curve of her hip.

“Thornton. Mustn’t let him see me. Might not wake up before him.”

“Well, wear my shirt. There’ll be less to take off if I want you again.”

Groggily she started to don the shirt he held out for her, her gaze fixed upon him with sleepy annoyance. “Don’t I have any say in the matter?”

“Our deal, you’ll recall.”

“I have a feeling I shan’t be allowed to forget it for a moment.”

“Doubt I’ll have the energy to remind you that often.”

She made a soft noise of disgust as she lay down. But she did not resist when he tucked her up against him spoon-fashion. It felt much too nice and she was much too tired.

Cloud felt her breathing grow soft and even with sleep. She felt good tucked up against him. He had no urge to seek a private corner to sleep in as he had so often in the past.

That puzzled him almost as much as the strength of the desire he felt for her. He could not attribute it to a lengthy celibacy, not after a week of Abigail’s assiduous attentions. Neither could he claim it was due to her skill, for she had none except what came naturally. Her shy, reluctant touch had none of Abigail’s practiced enticement, but it made him burn.

He decided not to think about it. It was just one of those things. As he slipped into the light sleep of the hardened soldier, he decided to just accept and enjoy.

Screams mingled with bloodthirsty war cries. Emily clasped her hands over her ears, but the sounds went on and on until she thought she would go mad. They did not even stop when the shooting did. When the silence finally came, she could still hear the echoes of the battle.

Slowly she walked toward the thin column of smoke. So much blood! She gagged over the warm, fresh stench of it. Shutting her eyes tightly did not close out the sight of so many bodies cast like stones over the ground, some twisted, some straight, but all soaked in their life’s blood. Friends lay mutilated, some more than others. She ached to tear the vision from her eyes.

It was a while before her horror-gripped mind became aware of a deep, soothing voice and a calloused but gentle hand that smoothed over her forehead, driving the demons away. “Cloud?”

“Ssssh, honey. Don’t let it haunt you,” he murmured against her ear.

She turned in his hold, borrowing against him, her face pressing against his chest. “So much blood.”

“It’s the way of war, Emily, and don’t let anyone tell you different—this is war.”

“They had such grand plans,” she
mourned. Yet sleep was already tugging at her again.

He slid his hand beneath her shirt to caress her gently rounded backside. “Emily.”

“Mmmmm?” The sound was both question and soft purr of delight.

“I know just the thing to take your mind off it.”

“I begin to think that is your cure for all ills.”

“It sure does wonders for what ails me,” he growled softly.

“We should sleep,” she tried to protest even as she arched to his touch as he cupped her breast in his hand.

“It’ll help you sleep as well.” His pulses leapt when she giggled softly.

To his delight, she held nothing back, participating and responding with equal abandon. He had an idea that it was a momentary surrender and took full advantage of it. There was little doubt in his mind that her subtle but ever-present resistance would return later.

Emily was a little shocked by her actions but quickly dismissed the fear that she was some kind of wanton. She knew she was using the physical magic he had introduced her to in order to erase her memories, if only temporarily. It also helped her fall asleep, a deep peaceful sleep that, for now, was not haunted by memories of a blood-soaked campsite.

“Poor little Emily,” Cloud murmured as
he studied her asleep in his arms, looking like a child in his large shirt.

It never ceased to amaze him how so many people, raised in the east and accustomed to its settled civilization, could pick up and march west. So few of them had any idea of what they would face or how to take care of themselves. With wives and children in tow, men set out with their heads full of dreams and little common sense. Unfortunately, it was people like Emily and Thornton who suffered as a result of their folly.

For all he had seen of death and battle, despite how it had hardened him, the suffering of the innocents never ceased to affect him. They were always caught up in the maelstrom, suffering and not understanding why. Too often they died or were permanently scarred in mind or body or both. Emily’s sleep was too often haunted and the boy, who even now crept toward them, was also disturbed by a memory he was too young to fully understand.

“Can I share, Mr. Ryder?”

Cloud looked at the little boy who knelt by the bed clutching his blanket. Thornton was wide-eyed and close to crying. Emily’s presence during the night had no doubt been keeping the worst of his fears away. Cloud shifted himself and Emily to make room for the child.

“Sure. Climb in, boy. You can’t make a habit of this, though.” “I know.” Thornton scrambled in and
sidled up close to the sleeping Emily. “Mama said that.”

“This Mama?” Cloud ventured.

“Yup. My first one’s wif the angels. Are you gonna be my second papa?”

“No,” Cloud replied gently. “Think of me as an uncle if you want.”

“Okay. I never had one of them.” He snuggled a little closer to Emily. “This is nice. Mama’s warm.”

“That she is, Thornton,” Cloud drawled, smiling to himself.

“Are you going to keep the Injuns away?”

“I’ll do my best. Let’s say I’ll try to keep us away from the Indians.”

“That’s good. I don’t want Mama to hafta dig no more holes.”

“Neither do I, son. Now get to sleep. We’ve still got a long way to go.”

Thornton obediently closed his eyes but asked, “Is it pretty in Sandly’s?”

“Yes, it’s a real pretty place. You’ll be happy there, Thornton. Now sleep.”

As Thornton worked to obey that command, Cloud thought of the valley. After the war, he had done a lot of wandering and had chanced to find himself in the San Luis Valley. Even though he had not been ready to settle there, he had marked out his lana, knowing that was where he would want to be when he grew tired of roaming. His younger brother Wolfe did settle and, for nearly three years, had kept a watch on both lots of land.

He now felt like doing something with the acres he had marked out. The winter would give him the time to sort out exactly which of his many ideas was the best. Over the years he had gathered a nest egg he felt was large enough to let him do as he pleased.

With thoughts of building a home to the fore of his mind, he suddenly found himself thinking of filling it. When his gaze fell upon Emily and Thornton he was a little disconcerted. The pair was having an unsettling effect upon him, threatening to soften too many of his hard edges.

His gaze still fixed upon the woman and child curled up next to him, he reviewed the idea that had flashed through his mind. In truth, he decided it was not at all that illogical. When a man put down stakes and built a house, it was usually with a family in mind. Despite his aversion to tying himself to a woman, he had always wanted children and had reluctantly accepted the fact that a wife was needed for that.