Cowboy Seeks Bride (16 page)

“Well, I see you are all in a fine mood,” Sawyer said. “While we’re talking about asses, your ass killed another coyote last night. It’s layin’ out there by the fence on the far side of the herd. I’m surprised he didn’t wake you up snorting and bragging about it.”

“I’d say that Haley has a good ass, then.” Dewar laughed with Coosie.

“Oh, hush!” She stomped her feet down into her boots and went to pour a cup of coffee. “I’d like to know what exactly y’all talked about with Raymond that’s got you so spicy this morning.”

“Good coon hunters don’t tell what they talk about,” Finn said. “What did you and Loretta talk about?”

“Good women don’t repeat what’s said in the kitchen over a cup of coffee and fresh bread from the oven,” she shot right back at him.

Clouds had come and gone all day. The land was still flat and Haley wondered if there was really a creek up ahead with a dense growth of trees on the side. They crossed a railroad track that day and had to cut their way through two fences that Finn and Rhett hung back to fix. They herded the cattle through one gate, up a section line road a quarter of a mile, and through another gate on the other side, with the old longhorn bull arguing with them every step of the way.

Trees beckoned to her from the far horizon in the middle of the afternoon and she sent up a silent prayer that the clouds wouldn’t bring rain. All she’d thought about from the time Dewar teased her at breakfast that morning was how much she wanted to feel his naked body next to hers and she was plumb giddy with desire.

When they finally reached Pond Creek, the sun was slipping toward the western horizon where freshly plowed dirt met the blue sky. The cows eagerly lined up for a drink in the creek. It wasn’t decent enough for bathing, but it was lined with beautiful willow and scrub oak trees that would serve as bedroom walls later that evening.

Coosie and Buddy started a fire and hung a pot of stew on the andirons to boil while they set about taking stock of what was in the wagon and what they needed. The rest of the crew unsaddled horses, brushed them good, rolled out bedding, and stretched their tired bodies out for a few minutes before supper.

Sexual electricity practically crackled and popped in the short distance between Haley and Dewar’s bedrolls. She sat with her knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, and her braids falling forward. He lay flat on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes to block the sun, the other arm tucked up under his neck. It all looked innocent, but the energy surrounding them was alive with anticipation.

“Coosie going to town tonight?” Haley asked.

“No, tomorrow night. We’ll be close to Medford and there’s a store there where he can refill the water barrel and replenish supplies. You got time to think about what you want him to bring back for you.”

“I need another notepad. Think he could get that and mail my ideas?”

“Sure,” Dewar said. “What kind of ideas did you come up with today?”

When she didn’t answer he moved the arm over his eyes and sat up. He looked across the grass and she winked.

That one gesture sent his imagination into overdrive.

“Oh, really?” he whispered.

“Yes, sir!” she said.

“Really what?” Sawyer asked.

“We are really having some music tonight. Dewar promised me a dance or two,” Haley said quickly.

“That’s not fair. He monopolized your time last weekend. I think we should all get to dance with you while he plays the guitar tonight,” Sawyer said.

“Sounds like fun to me. I get to dance all night that way. How about a dance for each of you and then Dewar can dance the last one while you play the guitar and sing?”

“But that’s not fair, Haley,” Finn protested.

“Why?”

“Everyone knows that the cowboy who gets the last dance takes the girl home,” he answered.

“Well, he sure won’t have far to take me, will he? It might be ten feet back there to my bedroll. I don’t reckon there’s much unfair about that,” she said.

Buddy laughed. “That’s v-v-very funny. I d-d-don’t care who you are!”

“And that is Larry the Cable Guy’s line from his comedy routines,” Finn said.

“You like that?” Haley asked.

“Love it. You ever watch it?”

“Yes, but I liked Ron White better,” she said.

“Aha! I knew you had a bit of redneck in you,” Dewar teased.

“Not a single drop, but I love his stories. Especially the one about them throwing him out of the bar. You ever been tossed out of a bar?” She looked at Dewar.

Finn threw back his head and laughed.

“What?” Dewar looked innocent.

“I could tell Haley here some things that would make Ron White’s tales look kind of mild,” Rhett said.

Dewar felt the hot flush climbing up his neck and was glad that the sun was throwing red rays across the land.

“Coon hunters and cowboys don’t tell everything they know,” he said.

“I wasn’t going to tell. I was just going to make Haley wonder if the right cowboy was going to walk her all ten feet from the dance floor to her bedroll tonight,” Rhett said.

“I expect supper is ready if you boys will stop flirting with Haley,” Coosie said.

“Yes, daddy,” Sawyer said and then roared.

Coosie drew down his eyebrows. “Boy, you don’t want me to be your daddy.”

Sawyer sobered right up. “You got that right. And I’m hungry, so let’s eat.”

After supper, Dewar got the guitar out of the wagon and tuned it. He started off the music with an old Waylon Jennings tune, “Mommas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys.”

She listened to the lyrics as Buddy sashayed her around the campfire and Joel came to her mind. Dewar sang about not letting babies grow up to pick guitars and drive them old trucks. He said to let them be doctors and lawyers and such. Joel fell into the
such
pile since he wasn’t a doctor or a lawyer. He didn’t pick a guitar and he damn sure wouldn’t be caught dead in an old pickup truck. And he didn’t do a thing to set her heart to racing like Dewar O’Donnell did. Not once in their engagement did she think about him all day long, imagine him sitting at his desk with no clothes on, or even have a desire to sneak into his office and kiss him so hard that it made her knees weak.

Looking back at the engagement and her relationship with Joel, it would have been a business marriage. Both of them were a force in the office, but in the bedroom it had been more than a little bit blah.

She and Dewar were exact opposites. She wouldn’t know a ten-year-old nag from a show horse and yet in the bedroom, they were one hot couple. She inhaled deeply just thinking about the way one of his kisses could set her whole body to quivering.

She danced with Coosie next to a Marty Stuart song, “The Whiskey Ain’t Workin’ Anymore.” The timbre of Dewar’s tone changed as he sang about needing one good honky-tonk angel to turn his life around and that he was looking for a woman warm and willing.

Well, she was damn sure warm and willing but she’d never be a honky-tonk angel, so if that’s what Dewar was looking for, then she was left out in the cold. Hell’s bells, not just out in the cold, but standing in six feet of snow in her underpants.

But
I
could
be
a
honky-tonk angel in the bedroom, couldn’t I? That’s where Dewar and I seem to have the strongest connection, so I could be anything in the bedroom.
Warm and willing or hotter’n hell and crawling his frame every night. Maybe even at noon and before supper, too.

She scolded herself for even thinking such a thing could work as she danced with each of the O’Donnell cousins. Then Dewar handed the guitar off to Sawyer who, with a twinkle in his eye, sang “Do You Wanna Go to Heaven,” a T.G. Sheppard song from years before.

Dewar held her tightly to his chest, one arm out, the other on the small of her back, as Sawyer sang about taking his hand and he’d lead her to heaven. Haley remembered the comment Dewar had made the night before about her being heaven and sin all twisted up together. Well, she damn well felt the same about him as they danced.

Sawyer went straight into “Heaven’s Just a Sin Away.” By the time he finished, Haley had adopted the song as her theme song for the whole trip. The lyrics said that heaven was just a sin away and that way down deep inside she knew it was all wrong but the devil had her and she thought he was going to win.

“Is it? Is heaven just a sin away?” Dewar asked as he swung her out and brought her back in a flourish.

“Oh, yeah!” she said.

When the song ended he bowed and she curtsied. He crooked his arm and he led her to her bedroll.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miz Haley,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Ah, look at ’em,” Finn said. “Their first date and he’s walked her right up to the door.”

“No good-night kiss?” Rhett teased.

“She didn’t even invite him in for a drink.” Sawyer loosened the strings on the guitar and handed it to Coosie to put away.

“First dates don’t warrant drinks or kisses.” She kicked off her boots and sat down. “Good night, boys. Thanks for a lovely evening.”

***

She waited until the guys were all asleep before she put her boots back on and headed toward the creek. She’d barely gotten away from the campground when two strong arms reached out and picked her up. Her feet dangled as Dewar’s lips found hers, cold from the night air, but it only took one kiss to warm them right up to the blistering stage.

“I thought they’d never go to sleep and then I was afraid you had,” he whispered.

He carried her to the quilt laid beneath an oak tree. A bouquet of wildflowers lay in the middle, the stems tied together with a piece of twine from the chuck wagon. When he sat down with her she picked them up and held them close.

“Flowers on a first date?” she said.

“You deserve orchids, m’lady.”

“But I love these. They’re wild, like you.”

“I’m the good son. Rye and Raylen were the wild ones.”

She cupped his face with her hands and kissed him with so much raw passion that he gasped. “Darlin’, I flat out do not believe you.”

“You just ain’t been with a real cowboy before,” he argued.

She kissed him again. “I’m not here to talk, cowboy.”

“You’re the wild one.” He laughed.

“Not me. I’m the hardworking, career-minded businesswoman.”

“Must be the full moon then,” he said as he unbuttoned her shirt, taking time to taste her skin and smell the remnants of that exotic stuff she’d bathed in the night before.

“Lord, Dewar, you are making me crazy!” She tugged at his buttons until she could wiggle next to his chest and her bare skin could touch his. “I’ve thought of this all day long and prayed that the clouds would go away and it wouldn’t rain.”

“You never did it in the rain?”

She looked up at him and shook her head. “No, I have not. But if it
had
rained I would be losing my rain virginity right now because I couldn’t go another day without this.”

She pushed the bouquet to the side of the quilt and started humming the song about heaven being just a sin away as she removed the rest of her clothing and then started on his, tugging his boots off, then peeling his jeans down from his slim hips.

“Heaven and sin,” he murmured.

She stretched out on top of him so she could feel skin against skin all over her body. “Yes, darlin’, and I’m about to have a taste of both.”

Most of the time Dewar liked the foreplay almost as much as he liked the sex, but that night he had to have her and she was more than ready for him by the time they were both undressed.

He rolled on top of her and with a powerful thrust began a rocking motion that carried them both away to either heaven, sin, or a nice big helping of each. She arched against him and dug her nails into his back. Her imagination had not disappointed her as she reached first one climax and then two before he finally buried his face in her neck and said her name in a hoarse drawl.

“Dear Lord,” she gasped.

“Must have been heaven and not sin,” he said hoarsely.

He rolled to one side and she nestled down into the crook of his arm. He kissed her eyelids, her forehead, and then her mouth with all the fervor of the first time and then began to tease her body back into a frenzy for the second round.

She nipped at his earlobe. “And now sin.”

“Oh, yes, and now sin,” he agreed as she rolled over on top of him and settled him inside her for round two.

“Do you want to go to heaven?” she singsonged as she began a steady rhythm.

“Just lead me on,” he whispered.

“Can you feel that feeling?” she sang softly.

His smile parted the clouds above them.

It was the smile, she decided right there in the middle of the hottest sex in the world. Dewar’s smile could melt steel. Lord, it could make a nun throw her habit in the trash and offer herself to him. And Haley was not a nun or made of steel!

Coosie and Buddy drove off toward Medford for supplies, but before they left, Dewar untied bamboo poles from the side of the wagon. Haley didn’t need a manual to know what the poles were for and what they’d use for bait to go fishing. She’d been fishing dozens of times with her cousins in the Bayou Teche.

“We need grasshoppers or worms?” Sawyer said.

Finn grabbed the shovel and an empty bean can. Sawyer and Rhett followed him to the edge of the pond where the soil was moist.

“Do only guys get to fish?” Haley asked.

Dewar handed her a pole. “I got five poles ready. You can’t write home about it if you don’t do it. You can use it for your reality show.”

“Never thought of the reality contestants fishing,” she said.

“We’re up for supper tonight,” Sawyer said. “While you were gone Coosie said so.”

Haley looked over at Dewar.

He shrugged and headed toward the back side of the pond. “We’re supposed to catch the fish, have them cleaned and ready to fry when Coosie and Buddy get back.”

Cattle lazed in the green pasture, some chewing their cud, others just happy to be still after fifteen miles of constant walking. They’d drunk from the pond on the south side and left a muddy mess in their wake. However, on the north side there was a grassy bank and a couple of big shade trees where the fishermen could be comfortable.

“What do you expect to catch?” She kept in step with Dewar even though his stride was longer.

“Farmers stock their ponds with bass and catfish. I got permission when I scouted the area to fish in this pond and for your reality team to do the same if you want to use that for a scene.”

The whole episode played out in her mind. The contestants would be tired and cranky and fishing would be a good diversion at the end of a long day.

Finn turned over a shovel full of dirt and Sawyer fetched several big fat earthworms. Rhett removed one, laced it on the hook at the end of the line on his bamboo pole, and tossed it out into the water.

“Contest don’t start until we all got a line in the water,” Finn said.

“What contest?” Haley asked.

When Dewar graced her with his brightest smile, her imagination kicked into overtime. She could see the two of them skinny-dipping, body parts slithering around each other until the whole pond began to boil like a hot tub.

“Haley, are you listening?” Dewar asked.

“I’m sorry. My mind was on those worms,” she lied.

“I said that the contest is whoever catches the most fish doesn’t have to cook tonight,” he said.

“Coosie isn’t going to cook?” she asked.

“No, Coosie is bringing back a pound of bologna in the ice chest. If we don’t have supper ready then we eat sandwiches. If we do, then we have the sandwiches tomorrow at lunchtime.”

“And what happens to the person who catches the least fish?” she asked.

“That person cleans and cooks the fish. What do you think of that for your reality show?” Dewar answered.

“Sounds like a wonderful episode.” Inwardly she shivered. She had no idea how to clean a fish or cook one and she’d never live it down if she admitted it.

“You know how to bait a hook?” Dewar asked.

“Of course,” she said.

Dewar passed the can of worms to her. She reached in and grabbed one at the same time Eeyore let out a bray right behind her. She jumped, dropped the worm, and it began to work its way right back into the soft earth.

“Oh no you don’t!” She grabbed it by the tail and pulled it right back out without popping it in half.

“Good work,” Dewar said.

She held it tightly in her hand while she unwrapped the line from around the pole. Then she laced the worm onto the hook.

She watched Dewar flip the hook out into the water and she followed his lead. When he sat down on the grassy bank, she did the same.

“Now we wait,” he said.

“For what?”

“See those little red bobbers out there?”

She nodded. Of course she saw the bobbers. It wasn’t her first fishing rodeo.

“When one goes under, jerk it up and hope there’s a fish on the end.”

Finn and Sawyer put at least two dozen more worms into the can, baited their hooks, and found a place to sit. No one said a word for the longest time and Haley could hardly endure the silence.

“You sure there’s fish in here?” she asked.

“Shhhh,” all four of them hissed.

“Don’t talk. It’ll scare them away,” Dewar whispered.

Haley had been fishing with her cousins too many times to remember and the Louisiana Bayou folks took their fishing very, very serious. Yet, not a one of them said anything about scaring fish with talk. It must be a cowboy thing.

“You are shittin’ me?” she whispered.

“Shhhh,” was all she got for an answer.

She glanced sideways at Dewar, who had leaned back against a rock and had his eyes shut. No way could he watch the red bobble that way. He must be depending on feeling the rod jerk. She looked back at the red ball dancing around on the water and unfocused her eyes. It became a beach ball that she and Dewar were batting around on the white sands of a Florida beach.

He wore a cute little Speedo. No, that wasn’t right. Dewar wasn’t a Speedo man; he was a cut-off jeans man and they rode low on his hips. She could see that fine line of dark hair that feathered from his chest downward inside the band of the jeans. That wasn’t right either. It was her visual so she could imagine him anyway she wanted, even naked. His tight little rear end was white against a bronzed chest, and the scar on his jawline was a faint white line against his rugged face. They tossed the beach ball to the side and waded out into the cool salty gulf water and he picked her up like a bride, her naked skin resting against his chest. She’d never made love in the ocean before, but she was damn sure game to give it a try.

Her fishing pole jumped in her hands and the beautiful vision disappeared. She refocused on the bobble as it went completely under the water and she had to grip the pole to keep from losing it. This would be a great episode for the reality show.

“I got one. What do I do?” she yelled.

“Jerk him in,” Dewar told her without opening his eyes. “Getting one to bite isn’t the trick. Bringing him to land is what’s important. And stop talking!”

She shot him a dirty look. She reached out with one hand and grabbed the line, then laid the pole on the ground. Inch by inch she worked until the head of the fish showed. She continued to pull until the big catfish was flopping around on the ground at Dewar’s feet.

“Your hands all right?” he asked.

She looked down at the bright red lines crisscrossing her palms. They weren’t bleeding, but she’d be really glad for her gloves the next day because they’d be sore.

“Now what does a silent cowboy do?” she whispered.

“Looks like it’ll weight about eight pounds,” Dewar said. “If you want to let it stand at that and hope no one beats your record, then you take a nap. But first you take that hook out of his mouth and sink a bigger one through him that’s tied up to that stake over there and toss him back.”

“Like this?” She deftly removed the hook she’d caught the fish on, secured another one into his gills, and put him back in the water.

“You been holdin’ out on me. This is not your first fishin’ trip,” he said.

“You didn’t ask me if I’d been fishing, did you?”

He handed her the can of worms and sat back down. “What else are you keeping secrets about?”

“Shhhh,” she said loudly. “You’ll scare the fish.”

Sawyer caught three small bass. Rhett caught three sun perch. Finn brought in a catfish, but it was smaller than Haley’s, and Dewar caught a bass, but it, too, wasn’t as big as Haley’s fish.

She was glad that she didn’t have to scale or cook the fish. Her granny had insisted that she clean a sun perch one time but she’d done such a poor job that there had only been one single bite of fish worth frying when she was finished.

“Who caught the biggest fish?” Buddy hopped off the wagon seat with the agility of a teenager.

Haley held up her hand. “I did and I talked and they all shushed me and I still got the biggest one, so I don’t believe that bullshit about not talking because it will scare them.”

Buddy laughed. “Smells v-v-very good!”

“Yes, it does,” Haley said. She’d watched Dewar prepare the cornmeal that Coosie had left behind. He’d added salt, pepper, and a teaspoon of red cayenne pepper.

“And since Haley caught the biggest fish, she gets the first pieces that float.” Dewar used long-handled tongs and fetched out several pieces that came to the top of the cast-iron cauldron filled with boiling oil. He laid them on a plate and handed it to Haley.

She broke a piece off and blew on it before she popped it into her mouth. “H-h-hot!” she said.

“Fire or pepper?” Coosie asked.

“Both,” she gasped.

He popped the ring from the top of a can of Coors beer and handed it to her. “That’s why I brought cold beer. Hot fish, hush puppies, and cold beer. Don’t get no better than that.”

Haley sipped the beer but she disagreed with his last statement. The fish was good but that beach scene she’d played out in her mind was a helluva lot better.

***

Her intentions were to stay awake until everyone went to sleep that night and then slip into bed with Dewar. Even if there weren’t trees to produce bedrooms or even a remote area where they could find privacy, she could still feel his arms around her. But two seconds after she shut her eyes she was asleep.

She dreamed about falling off Apache’s back right into a bed of hungry fire ants. They were all over her, biting and making red marks that itched so bad that even clawing couldn’t bring relief. She awoke sitting straight up, whining and scratching her ankles so hard that they had red stripes on them.

Dewar unzipped his sleeping bag and walked across to her on his knees. “Haley, what is it?”

“Ants. They’re biting me.”

He shined a small flashlight on her feet. “There’s nothing here. Were you dreaming?”

“Fire ants and they’re still biting me,” she said.

He looked again and went back to his bed, opened his saddlebags, and brought out a bottle of clear fingernail polish. “It’s not ants. You’ve got a bad case of chiggers. Hold this flashlight for me.”

“Painting my toenails isn’t going to help.”

“But painting theirs will.” Dewar chuckled.

She held the light and he began to put one drop of nail polish on every red dot he could find. He blew on each drop until it dried. She wasn’t sure if the polish stopped the itching, or if the warmth of his breath creating a fire in her gut made her forget about it, but something worked.

“There’s one on my thigh,” she whispered.

“Take off your jeans. Looks like I need to check you for ticks.” He smiled.

“I thought you said chiggers. Is that some kind of evil ticks from hell?”

“No, chiggers are little red bugs that get on some kinds of wildflowers and grasses. They bury into your skin and itch like hell, but the polish suffocates them and they die. I was making a joke. Brad Paisley has a song out about checking his girlfriend for ticks.”

“Honey, you can check me for anything you like as long as it stops itching.” She kicked off her jeans and peeled her knit shirt over her head. “Check away.”

He pulled up the leg edge of her lacy panties, applied three drops of fingernail polish, and again blew on the tender skin until it dried.

She managed to keep the moan soft. “Do you know what you are doing to me?”

“I’ve got a very good idea because it’s making me pretty hot doing it,” he said.

He found two more under her bra strap on her back and one an inch from her nipple. “Put that in your reality show notes.”

“Bring fingernail polish and don’t ask why,” she said.

“Clear fingernail polish or someone might look like they’ve got measles,” Dewar said. “Now let’s get you dressed and I’ll hold you until you fall back to sleep.”

“I’d rather get all the way undressed and take care of a deeper itch,” she said.

“So would I, darlin’, but there is no privacy at this place. Unless you want to go up on the other side of the pond.”

She shivered. “No thank you. That’s where chiggers live. Damn their sorry hides, anyway.”

He helped her re-dress and then stretched out beside her. “I love the way you fit in my arms.”

“Me too. Like I was made special for that purpose,” she said sleepily.