Rocky Mountain Rose (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 3) (13 page)

“What are you looking at?”

He set down his coffee cup, blue eyes bold on hers. “You, Mrs. Wilder.”

Again she flushed.

He tugged her onto his lap, tucking arms around her. “I dreamed of the day I could bring you here, give you a home.”

She felt tears closer to the surface and panicked. It had been so long since she cried, and now every time she turned around, she was choking up.

His dark head bent so his lips could nuzzle her ear. “What do you think of the cabin?”

“It’s perfect,” she whispered. And it was. The fire burned in the hearth, spreading a cozy glow over the small space. Even the pallet on the floor looked inviting.

Of course, having Lyle with her made a difference. Without him, she wouldn’t feel so safe, safer than she had ever felt before.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. His lips traced down her neck, muscles in his arms flexing as he shifted her weight in his lap. Feeling her body blaze to life at his touch, she let her head fall back, welcoming his kiss on her smooth, white neck.

“You belong here,” he murmured, and she didn’t have it in her to argue.

He tipped her back up to look in her eyes, and she took a moment to brush away the dark hair streaming over her brow.

“Lyle.”

She surged forward, and kissed him, drinking from his mouth as if she was thirsty and he was the only source of water.

He lifted her, taking them both to the pallet and lying down without relinquishing her lips.

Need rose in her and Rose felt frantic. Her fingers tore at the buttons of his shirt, longing to touch him. Needing him. Still drinking from her mouth, he helped her remove his shirt, then shuddered as she ran her nails over the firm expanse of his chest.

“Take me, Lyle,” she said against his mouth. “I need to feel you. Make me yours.”

With a growl, he moved so he was on top her. His weight fell into the cradle of her hips and she moaned into his mouth, arching her back so she could press against him. She was born of desire and mindless wanting, rubbing against him as if she was in heat, her body threatening to burst into flames.

His fingers slipped between her skirts, finding her heat and stroking her.

“Lyle, please.” Rose felt her nipples harden to aching points, her whole body tightening and centering on the delicious torment between her legs. “Come inside me,” she begged and watched the fire light catch in his eyes.

“Not yet,” he said hoarsely, fingers strumming her with delicious torment. “I want you ready for me.”

She struggled then, pulling at him, trying to force his body to merge with hers. Her fingers tore at his back. But he was relentless, rearing up and catching her wrists with one hand, while pressing the palm of his other hand right against her sweet spot. His blue eyes burned.

“Come for me, Rose. Let go.”

His grip on her wrists was too tight, but Rose didn’t care. Her hips surged up to meet his hand, legs spread in invitation. The pressure was building inside her, threatening to shake her apart if she didn’t let go soon.

A moan started deep in her throat.

“That’s it.” Lyle’s voice was triumphant. “Take your pleasure, a gift from the one who owns you.”

His arrogant words tipped her over the edge. She flew apart, mind filling with the white hot edge of pleasure as her limbs convulsed. A scream tore from her throat.

Dazed, she looked up at him, a beautiful smirk on his perfect face. One hand went to trace his features, as if she needed reassurance that he was real. Her fingers smoothed his cheek and jaw, and then felt his lips

He smiled against her touch, then drew one finger into his mouth and sucked on it, before kissing her fingertips.

Rose sighed. Her whole body still quivered with aftershocks.

“That was wonderful.”

His grin grew bigger. “It’s not over yet.”

She watched as he stood and stripped, baring himself in the firelight. His muscled form was lean and perfect, evidence of his arousal large and stiff between his legs.

Her own smile spread across her face. “You want me.”

“Very much.” He knelt again on the pallet, hands going to her skirts. Together they shed the layers from her skin, until she lay naked and waiting, her shining red hair falling around her shoulders like a cloak.

“God, Rose.” He touched her with awe on his face. “You are lovely.”

Her breath caught. Faced with this beautiful man in a haven, it was all too much. She turned her face away, tears suddenly streaming down her face.

“Rose.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening to me.” She reached for her anger, her attitude, and there was nothing left.

Cupping the back of her head, he drew her into his arms, so she could soak his chest with her tears.

“Let it out, darling,” he said. “Let it all go.”

“I can’t,” she choked. “I can’t ever let go. I can’t let myself fall.”

“I’ll catch you,” he whispered. “I won’t let you fall.”

She drew back to stare into his beautiful face, trying to catch her breath as she hiccupped. “I’ve never had...anyone.”

“You do now. I’m here. I’ll catch you and I promise I won’t let go.”

“Kiss me, Lyle.” She needed to feel close to him.

He did as she asked, and it wasn’t long before their bodies caught fire again, and their love making washed all her fears away.

*

“Tell me what happened after your father took you,” Lyle said.

They were lying entwined. He’d let the fire burn down and Rose watched the curling embers in a daze.

“I ran away. I was sixteen, but tall for my age. I told everyone I was twenty, and joined the traveling show as a maid. They taught me to dance.” She cuddled close to him, letting her hair fall like a red sheet over his bare torso. “I did well. There were saloons from Kentucky to Wyoming filled with men who knew me, loved my show. I had a gift for it.”

“I know.”

“But, the company changed. The girls grew jealous. And the men…”

His arms squeezed her. “Tell me.”

“The men in the company were courteous. But the manager started drinking. One night he called me to his tent and told me he wouldn’t pay me my share unless…I gave him what he wanted.” She stared at the fire unseeing, her eyes full of the memory of that horrible night. “I…did something for him, and then he was too gone with drink.” She shook her head. “I took my share of the money that night, got Sam, and ran.” She blinked and focused on Lyle’s flawless face. His beauty gave her strength. “We went to towns the show wouldn’t go to, but that meant dealing with men like Doyle. The rest you know.”

He nodded. “Now I know it all.”

She felt a pang of fear. “Do you, Lyle?” Her eyes searched him but his expression held no judgment and no pity, just an understanding that she’d done what she needed to survive.

“I do,” he said. “I know you’re a fighter, and you’re used to scrapping for everything you get. But, Rose, you gotta know, I’m not going to stop coming for you, until you know how much you mean to me.” He brushed her face with the back of his fingers. “Fight me, sweetheart, please do. Just know, I’m not going anywhere. No way, no how, nothing is gonna get between me and you. That’s a promise.”

She stared at him, feeling his words land like blows, more effective on her walls than cannon fire.

His smile curved his lips, and she swallowed hard. In the low light, his eyes shone with a piercing blue light. Even the flickering shadows couldn’t mar his beauty. He had the face of an angel, fallen to earth.

“You’re so beautiful,” she blurted. Immediately his eyes and face got soft.

“Right there. You prove you’re worth all the trouble.”

A pang went through her. Mary had been the beautiful one, the sweet one. Even in all the hardship they’d lived through, Mary’s kind nature had survived. When she was married to Lyle, she would’ve been a perfect angel. Whereas Rose was nothing but trouble.

Rose turned to her side, and Lyle left the bed for a moment then settled in behind her. Lifting her hand, he secured it with a soft piece of leather then tied the other end around his wrist. He pulled her more firmly against him and lay with his arm along hers, wrists bound in front of their faces.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.

“I don’t want to,” she whispered, and it was the truth. The question was, would Lyle one day look at her and realize she was nothing like his angelic first wife? And when that day came and he cast her out, would she be able to survive?

“Good,” he chuckled in her ear, oblivious to her change in mood. Twisting her wrist so her fingers could twine with his, he pressed his face into her hair. In no time, his breathing went soft against the back of her neck, but it was a long time before Rose could follow him into sleep.

*

“Rose, wake up.”

Light streamed from the sole window across the pallet, but Rose buried her face in the blanket.

“No,” she moaned, and Lyle chuckled.

“It’s dawn.”

“Sleep.” She burrowed further into the covers then gasped as the warmth left her. She rolled, clutching for the blankets, but Lyle had whipped them off.

“Scoundrel,” she cried. “Give them back.”

“Come on, Rose. Day’s a wastin’. Got a lot to do.”

Glaring, she rolled onto her side, curling into a ball.

“Stubborn,” he said.

“Idiot,” she mumbled.

“Now, now, what did I tell you about calling me names?” He caught her ankles and dragged her down the pallet.

“What are you doing?”

“I know how to wake you up and make you sweet.” With a wicked grin, he lowered his head between her legs.

*

The sun was up by the time the newlyweds left the cabin. After a simple breakfast, Rose helped Lyle with the morning chores and learned her way around the homestead. Fetching water, chopping and stacking firewood, and sweeping the cobwebs out of the cabin was work, but she threw herself into the mundane chores. The labor was good and she felt clean somehow, out in the fresh air with the sun on her face.

By noon, her shoulders ached. She felt relief when Lyle stopped working to offer her a dipperful of water. “If you’re all right with jerky for lunch, we’ll ride out to visit our neighbors. I’d like you to meet them.”

Nodding, Rose hastened to smooth her dress and brush out her hair. What would these neighbors think of Lyle’s new wife? Her pale skin and fashionable figure weren’t assets on a homestead; she would look ridiculous.

Lyle caught her peering into his shaving mirror, fussing with her bonnet. Wrapping a handful of her shining hair around his wrist, he drew her head back and kissed her.

“You look beautiful. Let’s go.”

“I just don’t know what to expect…”

“They’ll like you. Stow the piss and vinegar, and don’t throw anything at ‘em.”

He ducked out of the door before she could find a worthy missile.

The afternoon’s journey took them through the great pine forest, but they were never far away from the sound of the rushing river. Lyle guided his stallion along a woodland stream until he found the trail. Rose rode behind him and they brought the gelding along to give to their neighbor, who seemed to have a lot to do with horses.

The Donovans homesteaded in a large clearing, their cabin on a hill overlooking their stable, corrals, and the river.

A broad shouldered man, muscular and tanned, came out to greet them. Behind him, in a training pen, a great white stallion pranced and whinnied angrily at the newcomers.

“Miles Donovan,” Lyle murmured to Rose, before dismounting and helping her down.

“That horse is coming along,” Lyle said to Miles as a greeting.

Miles shrugged. “He’ll always need a strong master.”

“He’s a beauty,” Rose said, and had the pleasure of watching Miles’ eyes crinkle at the compliment.

“Name’s Lightning.”

“Come here, you old saddle-stiff.” Lyle gripped Miles’ hand and the two men thumped each other’s backs before looking to Rose.

Lyle reached for her. “Donovan, this is my wife, Rose Wilder.”

Miles blinked in surprise but tipped his hat to her. “Ma’am.”

Donovan was shorter than Lyle, but his shoulders were wider and his whole form was thickly muscled. He was a stern faced man, and Rose kept her distance as he never seemed to smile. Only when his wife came out of their cabin with the baby in her arms did Donovan’s face soften.

“My wife, Carrie,” he said proudly. Carrie was short and curvy, with long, wavy chestnut hair. A few curls wafted against her cheeks, having escaped her cheery bonnet. “And my daughter.”

“You must be Rose.” Smiling, Carrie came forward and, to Rose’s surprise, handed the baby to her husband before coming to hug Rose.

Turning panicked eyes to Lyle, Rose returned the hug as best she could.

“I’m so glad you’re here. It will be nice to have a woman out here on the frontier.”

“Carrie.” Miles looked disapproving, but his wife just shrugged.

“Well, it’s true.” She turned to Rose and whispered loudly, “My husband can get by with just cattle and horses, but I need to talk to someone.”

Lyle chuckled.

Meanwhile, Miles was looking down at the babe in his arms. Rose almost caught her breath at the change in his serious expression. His shining look of love washed the usual grimness of his face away.

“This is my daughter, Mary,” Carrie said.

“Oh.” Rose’s hand went to her throat, and she blinked back tears that seemed to be always close by. She felt Lyle move closer to her side. “She’s beautiful.”

“Do you want to hold her?” Carrie asked.

Rose shook her head. “Not now. She’s sleeping. Let her be.”

“She’s always sleeping.” Miles deposited the baby into the mother’s arms.

Carrie cuddled her child close. “She’s the sweetest baby ever.”

“Doesn’t take after her mother then,” Lyle said, and Rose looked at him sharply until she realized her husband was teasing.

Carrie didn’t take the bait, only shook her head gently at the grinning man. When Miles and Lyle turned away, she stuck out her tongue at Lyle, then winked at Rose.

“Got that cow for you once she’s weaned its calf,” Rose heard Miles say to her husband before Carrie fell into step beside her.