Authors: Leigh Greenwood
Rose’s response was instantaneous and dramatic. Her hands gripped his head and pressed him hard against her body.
Gripping the bed to keep from devouring her in a single gulp, George focused his mind on Rose’s breasts rather than his own need. He had waited so long he intended to go slowly, to savor every minute, every touch, every taste. To savor the sound of her gasp of shock when he took her firm nipple between his teeth. To savor her excitement as he teased her with his hot tongue.
When George realized he was more aware of his restraint than he was of the pleasure of exploring Rose’s body, he threw restraint to the winds. He would take his leisure some other time. Tonight he would explode if he had to wait another minute.
Rose helped him slip her gown down her body and under her hips. She seemed to be in more of a hurry than he was to remove all barriers between them.
She seemed unaware of her nakedness. He was aware of nothing else. He couldn’t get enough of her. His eyes, his lips, his fingertips, every part of him wanted to explore her body in frantic haste. All failed to do anything more than fan the flames that were even now lapping around the edge of his senses.
Driven by a desire which had been ignited on that day long ago when he first saw her in the Bon Ton, he quickly came out of his clothes and joined her on the bed.
“This may be uncomfortable at first,” he said as he parted her thighs.
Rose’s body relaxed, welcoming him. She arched off the bed as his fingers sank into her moist heat. Moan after soft moan escaped her lips as he plunged inside her, preparing her for his entry. He should have waited longer, should have taken more time to be sure she could accommodate him, but when she threw herself against him, he lost all ability to wait.
“This will hurt, but only for a moment,” George said as he poised himself above Rose.
Then he claimed her. The way men have claimed their women since time began. With their bodies. With their minds. And with their souls.
It took every bit of restraint he possessed to ease into her body rather than plunge in. Rose practiced none of his control. Even as he prepared himself to break through her virgin’s sheath, she threw herself against him, forcing him deep into her.
George abandoned control. Riding the bucking of his desire with wild abandon, he drove straight toward fulfillment. He only slowed his rhythm so that Rose could keep pace.
But as he felt the wave of sweet agony begin to swirl higher and higher around him, he rushed ahead, bringing them both to a shattering release of the tension which had held them in bondage for so long.
They lay side by side for some time. Neither of them spoke. As his senses returned to normal, George found it hard to believe he had just made love to his wife. But he only had to turn his head or reach out to discover that Rose was really there, warm and inviting.
The feeling of contentment had returned. He could feel it spread over him like a comforting blanket. If he’d had any doubts that he’d done the right thing, he had them no longer.
It was the first feeling of true peace he could remember experiencing in his whole life.
George woke with the first rays of sunlight.
His gaze fell on Rose. She lay facing him, her eyes closed in sleep. He slowly raised his head and rolled up on his elbow so he could get a better look. He didn’t know how it was possible, but she looked even more lovely in sleep. Her slightly disordered appearance provided just the right feeling. As if nothing in the world could threaten her rest.
But something disturbed George’s repose. Rose’s nearness. She was only inches away, one arm across her body. His lips were a mere breath away from hers, her barely clad breasts, the alabaster perfection of her neck and bare shoulders.
He could feel the heat of desire start to rise within him. He could still feel the glow from last night.
He wanted Rose. He had known that from the first, but he’d never known she could make such a difference in the way he felt. He wasn’t sure what that difference was. He only just this minute realized he felt different about everything. But he knew it was better.
He’d never felt so good, or so good about himself. He couldn’t explain that either, but he wasn’t going to try. He was just going to enjoy it for as long as it lasted.
It would end. Not even Rose could make life something it wasn’t, but he knew that this feeling would never be far away. Only as far away as Rose. All he had to do was reach out.
He touched her cheek. It felt soft and cool. Dry. He brushed her lips. They felt dry, too. Apparently she felt none of the heat that even now was causing drops of moisture on his skin.
George trailed his fingers across the planes of her face, brushed past her ear, whisked them down the slim column of her throat, and feathered them across her shoulder. He didn’t know why it felt so enjoyable just to be able to touch her. He’d touched women before, but it hadn’t been anything like this.
It was more than a physical hunger for her body, a stirring need to find release for his own sexual drive. It was a need to know her, to discover all there was to learn about her body. To
linger over her lips. To see if kisses felt better in the hollow of her shoulder or the hollow of her throat. To determine if the skin was softer on her breast or her lips. To discover where his touch excited her the most. She was a labyrinth of secrets, and he must learn the answer to every one.
Rose stirred under his touch.
He kissed her awake.
“What time is it?” she murmured.
“Daybreak.”
“I’ve got to get up,” Rose said, trying to sit up. “They’ll be wanting breakfast soon.”
George pulled her back down next to him. “They can wait a few minutes longer.” His hand dipped into her gown and cupped her breast. Rose’s gaze flew to his eyes.
“We can’t. If we’re not out when they come into the kitchen, they’ll know what we’re doing.”
“I don’t care if the whole world knows,” George said as he slipped Rose’s gown over her shoulders and drew her to him. “We’re man and wife.”
“But—”
“No buts,” George said as he pushed her gown down her body. “I’ve never felt so free in my whole life. I don’t know how I’ll feel once I step through that door, but right now I don’t care. I need you.”
George was shocked to realize he had just told Rose he needed her. He did, more than he had ever imagined possible, but he hadn’t felt he could admit it to anyone. But he just had, and it had been easy.
That made him feel even better. He wondered what new wonders Rose could work in his spirit.
But he would save that for later. Right now he wanted to wrap himself in the wonders of her body.
“Jeff, I’ve changed my plans. Stay after the others leave, and I’ll explain.”
George had ridden out to the camp with the twins, but he had taken almost no part in their teasing banter as they rode along. He felt like a man reborn. All because of Rose.
He must have her. No matter what he had to do. No matter what he had to give up. It had seemed so difficult before, so complicated. Now it seemed easy, natural.
“What are you going to do now?” Jeff asked. He was as sulky as ever. Obviously nothing had changed with him.
“I talked it over with the twins. It’s too late in the season to make a drive to St. Louis. I don’t know if we’d make it before winter. With the dry summer, I doubt we could find enough grass and water.”
“Then wait till the spring. I told you that before.”
“We can’t wait that long,” George said. “I want you to go see King now.”
“In person?”
“Yes. Go to his ranch if you have to, but talk to him yourself.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. We don’t have any money to buy cows.”
“I want to make a trade. He’ll make a drive to St. Louis in the spring. It’ll be easier for his men than for us. They have the experience, the manpower, the knowledge of the trails. Offer to trade him steers for cows. It won’t be a problem to drive the steers to his ranch. Find out if he’ll trade and for how much. I’d like to get one cow for every two steers.”
“Whose idea is this?” Jeff demanded.
“Mine,” George said.
“That’s about the only sensible idea you’ve come up with since we got back,” Jeff said, “but I don’t know if King will go for it.”
“Neither do I, but if anybody can talk him into it, you can.”
Jeff looked startled, then distrustful, as if expecting a trick.
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re very persuasive when you want to be. You’re also tight as a tick with money. We need the very best deal we can get, and you’re the one to get it for us.”
Jeff looked a little flustered by the compliment. He had apparently expected some sort of argument when George asked him to stay behind. His defenses had been up. His jaw set, his teeth clenched. Now he looked surprised.
“Suppose King won’t trade?”
“There must be other ranchers shipping out in the spring. Or agents looking to buy a herd. You might even find someone willing to take our herd with him for a commission. I don’t like the idea of going that far until you boys have had a chance to go over that trail with somebody who knows it. Ask him if the twins can go with him next spring.”
“How much should I ask for?”
“As much as you can get, but don’t settle for less than twelve dollars a head. If you can’t get more, we’ll have to take them ourselves. Otherwise we might as well sell them for hides and tallow.”
“When do you want me to leave?”
“The sooner the better. I asked Rose to see that your clothes were ready to pack.”
Jeff’s expression went from sulky to sullen. George ignored it.
“There’s also something else I want you to do while you’re in Austin,” George said. He went over to his horse and returned with something long and slim wrapped in a cloth.
“That’s your sword,” Jeff said. “Is something wrong with it? I doubt they have anybody in Austin who can work on anything as fine as that.”
“Nothing’s wrong with it,” George said, handing it to Jeff. “I want you to sell it.”
“Sell it! Why? We’re not that short of money.”
“I want you to sell it and buy a wedding ring for Rose.”
Jeff looked thunderous.
“Take it to McGrath and Hayden. Ask for Jim Hayden. I’ve already spoken to him. He knows the ring I want. He’ll give you a good price.”
“Damn, I won’t do it. I can’t sell your sword to buy a ring for—”
“You’d better think before you finish that sentence,” George warned. “And while you’re thinking, try to remember you’re speaking about my wife.”
“But—”
“There are no buts, Jeff. You seem to think your getting mad will change everything, but it won’t. Rose is going to keep on being my wife no matter what you do.”
“I keep hoping you’ll come to your senses and—”
“And do what? Send her back to Austin? Divorce her? What for? She hasn’t done anything except take better care of us than our own mother.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it’s true. Pa never took care of anybody. And Ma never took our side against him. Maybe you don’t remember, but I do.” His eyes grew just as hard as Jeff’s. He remembered the beatings when his mother had stood by, helpless. He remembered the anger he’d harbored against her for her weakness. “Rose would kill me if I tried to do half the things to Zac that Pa did to me, and you know it.”
“I’m not buying a ring for that woman. Even if I were, I wouldn’t sell your sword to do it. It’s sacred.”
“It’s nothing but a sword, Jeff. It only reminds me of four terrible years I’d just as soon forget. You see a cause, the beliefs we fought for. I see the boys I commanded shot to pieces, some so badly mangled I didn’t even know who they were.”
“I still don’t think you ought to sell it.”
“I can’t use the family’s money. That ring has to come from me. And this is the only way I can do it.”
“I won’t do it. I can’t.”
“Which? Buy the ring for Rose or sell the sword?”
“Both.”
George looked at his brother’s twisted, unhappy face and some of his own anger faded. He could have been the one to lose his arm. How did he know he wouldn’t be just as angry and bitter?
“Jeff, you’re going to have to let go of the war. Right or wrong,
it’s over. There’s no going back, no doing it over again. If you keep looking over your shoulder, you’re going to make yourself miserable and everybody around you unhappy.”
“How am I going to forget?” Jeff shouted, waving his stub in George’s face.
“By letting go of the hatred. You may be mad at the Yankees, but you’re taking it out on us.”
“If you’re talking about Rose—”
“I am, but I’m talking about the twins as well. And Zac and Tyler. And me. Nobody is happy when you’re around. Haven’t you noticed how they all fall silent when you join us?”
“They can’t stand being around a cripple.”
“Believe it or not, they love you. They’d show you, but you won’t let them.”
“That’s a damned lie. They can’t wait to get out of the room. Monty practically falls over himself.”
“Why should he stay? You haven’t said a nice thing to him since you got back.”
“He’s a bigoted, narrow-minded, stubborn, irritable—”
“No more than you.”
Jeff looked as if he would explode with rage. “Monty’s ten times worse than I ever was.”
“Ask Rose if you don’t believe me.”
“I wouldn’t ask her anything.”
“You should. You might learn some things that would surprise you. Help you, too.”
“If you mean to start relaying Rose’s advice, you can save your breath.”
“I only mean to give you one piece of advice,” George said. “You’re going to have to choose between your family and your bitterness.”
“You’re just trying to force me to accept Rose. You know I never will.”
“I’m telling you that you’re in the process of alienating the only people in the world who have reason to love you no matter how much you try to act like a miserable, hate-filled bastard.
Rose is a part of that family now. In a few years Monty and Hen will marry. You can’t reject their wives without rejecting them as well.”
“They won’t marry Yankees.”