Silver Nights With You (Love in the Sierras Book 1) (22 page)

Sweat dampened her temples and curled the hairs that touched it. Her entire being was full. Full of happiness, of contentment, full of feelings so intense they made her eyes glisten. She felt changed, weaned from youth on vibrant wings having finally tasted and touched that most sacred enchantment between a man and a woman in love.

Morgan rested his head on the moist pile of her breasts and caught his breath while her fingertips ran through the soft mesh of his stubbled jaw. The comfort and joy she found in his arms sent her reeling. He had to be in pain, had to be exhausted, yet his broken body found enough strength to pour its passion into her. She didn’t know what she'd done to make such a man love her, but she whispered a prayer of thanks that he did.

Morgan closed the door softly behind him as he re-entered the stables. The moon was high and the other men still snoring peacefully inside the house. The candle had burned so low that the bottle housing it was crusted with long tendrils of lumpy, white wax. The ebbing light flickered over Lila's naked body curled on a bed of straw and he smiled down at her. He lay beside her and swept a hand up the length of her body, drawing a sleepy purr from her lips as she turned toward him.

“Lila,” he whispered, nibbling her mouth.

“Hmm?” she moaned, kissing him back.

“I think we need a bath.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Now?”

He nodded. “Unless you’d rather wait until morning when your father and Philip are awake?”

She sat up and knuckled her eyes while Morgan pulled bits of straw from her hair. It was then that she noticed the sticky, dried evidence of their coupling on her thighs. When she’d fallen asleep he was still inside of her and there was now a noticeable emptiness beside the newly blossoming ache in her belly. She placed a weary palm on his shoulder.

“No, you’re right,” she said. “Now is best.”

She reached for her gown and dropped it over her head. Morgan already had his trousers on and her robe looped over his arm as he helped her to her feet. Her legs felt drugged and difficult to lift and she chuckled when she felt her body sway. Morgan couldn’t help himself. He gathered her in his arms and held her close as he drank of her mouth again.

"Before we bathe," he kissed her throat just below the ear. "I have something for you."

She waited as he went to the pile of saddles and satchels. Tears rushed to her eyes when she saw that he carried her valise. In all of the chaos she had forgotten all about it. He brought it to her and she held it for the longest moment, her fingers trembling around the clasp while she shut her eyes during a few deep breaths.

“Please be there,” she whispered and then opened the bag.

Her fingers moved quickly through skirts and pantaloons before finally touching on something solid. She traced the edges around a square frame and gasped as she pulled it free, allowing the bag to fall to the ground. Her eyes landed on the smiling face of her mother, and she laughed through a sob as she ran her fingers over the soft curve of her chin. She hugged the image to her as she closed her eyes and wept softly.

When she opened her eyes again she turned the frame around and smiled as she showed him the image. He saw the resemblance instantly, the sweetness of face, the dark hair and light eyes. Though the photograph was black and white, he saw that Mrs. Cameron had been a woman of many colors. It was obvious in the sparkle of her eye and the quirky turn of her smile. It was like looking at Lila twenty years older, and he was definitely pleased by what he saw.

“Thank you, Morgan,” she said.

He reached out and took the photograph from her hands, studying the features of the woman before setting the frame on the saddle rack beside the candle. He gathered her in his arms, kissing away her tears, finally silencing her voice with a long, slow kiss.

Grabbing her hand, he led her away from the horses and to the spot where they'd left her clothes hanging in the peach tree. He draped her robe beside it, followed by his trousers, and waded into the water. Lila watched the tight, round muscles of his buttocks shift as he walked, and she smiled shyly. Once he was up to his waist in the water he turned and motioned for her to join him.

“Is it cold?” she asked.

“A little, but I’ll do my best to warm you.”

She stepped toward the river bank and pulled the gown up over her head. Moonlight spilled over her shoulders and highlighted the full half-melons of her breasts, creating long, soft shadows down the trimness of her waist before her hips flared back out into the silvery light. Long, graceful legs moved hesitantly toward the lapping water and she stepped in until it reached her calves. Her mouth formed a silent O as her arms reached out and her fingers curled into her palms.

“It’s more than a little cold,” she said.

“Funny,” he said. “Standing here looking at you I actually thought the water suddenly too warm.”

She smiled and blushed, still finding it hard to believe that she was baring her naked body to him without shame. In fact, she found it empowering to see the noticeable change in him when he stared appreciatively at her. It was unclear whether it was the iciness of the water or the blazing desire in his eyes, but her nipples went as taut and smooth as two pearls.

“Ah, honey,” Morgan rasped. “You’d better get in here.”

A few more steps and the water swirled around her waist, causing her to suck air in sharply. Already the bottom of her hair was wet and painting her back with cool stripes. Morgan closed the remaining distance and fastened his warm palms onto her bottom.

“Put your legs around my waist and the rest of you will stay dry,” he said.

She did as instructed, folding her arms behind his neck and he waded out into the middle of the river, its lazy current veering smoothly around their bodies. Morgan could still reach the bottom with the tips of his toes while the surface broke around his ribs and the long white limbs wrapped around his middle. For a long while they bobbed silently, letting their gazes link and share the emotions they were both feeling.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I’m sorry for treating you so badly after you first kissed me. It wasn’t you. It was me and my stupid inability to understand what was happening inside of me. I was afraid.”

“I frightened you?”

“What you made me feel frightened me,” she corrected sheepishly. “With David, I felt giddy and young and frivolous, like a silly, foolish girl. In some ways, he represented the world I came from, where everything revolves around shiny things, flattery, and well-groomed shallowness. I understood him to the point of comfort.” She could see her words shifting Morgan’s features into shades of insecurity, and she tightened her legs about his waist and pulled herself closer to him, flattening her breasts against his chest.

“But with you,” she continued, her voice lowered seductively. “I feel like a woman. Like a trembling…” she kissed his lips softly, “aching…” then again, “needy woman.”

“Needy?” he whispered against her kisses.

“Mm hmm,” she murmured, shifting her bottom over his tumescence. “I’ve found I’m a
very
needy woman, and only you have what I need.” She rubbed her sex over the tip of his while her tongue reached out to wet his lips. Morgan waded over to a fallen tree trunk, half on the bank and half in the water while she devoured his mouth. He eased her back against the smooth bark and planted his feet in the soft ground for leverage.

Her back bent easily, following the curve of the trunk and the pink tips of her breasts jutted toward the starry sky. Morgan’s hands cooled her dry skin as they slid up out of the water and over her belly. The cold wet trail of his fingers warred with the fiery heat of his mouth clasping around her nipple. She closed her eyes and let the pleasure needle through her as she spread her arms down the length of the trunk.

She couldn’t get enough of him. No matter how he touched and tasted, no matter how she groaned and arched, she wanted more. He wanted more. In answer to the throbbing in his body and the whimpered pleas from her lips, he filled her body with his.

Beneath the molten silver of moonlight, they poured every last ounce of energy into their lovemaking, their souls breaching the boundaries of flesh until they were whole and truly one.

Never in all of her life had she hurt so good. The tenderness between her thighs made her legs tremble with every step. Her breasts were chafed pink from the scruff of his beard and tingled constantly, each trickle of flipping nerves reminding her how thirstily he drank from them. Sleeplessness tugged on the corners of her eyes, but her cheeks were flushed a permanent red as she thought about her long night of discoveries. Morgan had said that was not all by a long shot, and he’d spent the night proving it. He did things to her that made her toes curl and her body quiver in remembrance. She didn’t know how she’d make it through the day without grinning like a fool.

Morgan squatted by the riverside and worked a thin blade across his jaw, removing clumps of dark hair each time it came away. Lila sat against a tree nearby, fully-clothed, her knees pulled up and tucked beneath her folded arms as she watched. The sky was a spill of deep purple and bright mauve, heralding the approaching sun. She heard the door of the house open and turned to wave at her father. He waved back and made his way toward the privy.

“Do you think he’ll suspect what happened last night?” she asked Morgan.

He laughed softly and she found herself admiring the straightness of his teeth and the tiny lines that creased around his eyes. They were mature lines, lines that someone like David hadn’t earned yet.

“Oh, I think he'll know exactly what happened last night," Morgan said. "He's been around a long time. He's sharp."

“Well, good morning to you both,” Argyle called as he approached. Lila felt a fluttering chagrin as she stood and had to grip the tree to steady her shaky limbs. Morgan smirked, turning his face to hide it from Argyle.

“Morning, Papa,” she said cheerily. “How did you sleep?”

“When you’re my age you get used to physical discomfort. I don’t think I’ve slept well since the eighteen-forties. What about you two?”

“Fine!” she said swiftly, fighting the urge to look at Morgan.

“And you Morgan,” the doc said. “How did you sleep? How’s the back?”

Morgan slowly lowered the blade and turned to Argyle. “I can honestly say, Doc, that last night was the best night I’ve ever had. Funny thing, too, my back feels remarkably healed. Not even the slightest twinge. Your daughter’s touch works wonders.”

Lila’s heart sped into her ears, but Argyle seemed none the wiser. “Yes. She is a good student. I’m impressed with how quickly she jumped into helping at the cave in. A weaker lady would have swooned beside the mess of human flesh all over the road. I’m very proud of her."

She shared a soft smile with her father before putting an arm around his waist. “Come on, Pa. Let’s leave Mr. Kelly to his ablutions while we search the saddle bags for something to eat.”

She looped her arm around her father’s and led him toward the stables, glancing back only once to send a wide smile at the man who still squatted by the river, silently watching the sway of her hips as she went.

An hour later, Morgan laughed at the high-pitched squeal she let out when he dangled the worm in front of her nose. She leapt back and landed hard on her rear end, her palms sinking into the soft mud of the river bank. The thick sludge pushed up between her fingers and she scrunched her nose in response.

“Very funny,” she drawled.

“I didn’t know you were afraid of a little, bitty worm.”

“I’d be afraid of anything thrust up into my face without warning,” she retorted as she shook the mud off of her fingers. “And just what are you going to do with that thing?”

“Use it as bait to catch fish,” he answered.

He’d retrieved his saddle bags before planting himself at the riverside. She joined him and watched with genuine interest as he removed several metal hooks with bits of chain and wire attached to them. He found two steady branches and used his knife to cut notches in the ends to knot the wire around. Once the two makeshift poles were ready he used his hands to dig through the soft mud of the riverbank, looking for fat, wriggly worms.

“I’ve never seen a fish caught before,” she admitted and Morgan sent an easy smile her way.

“Before Val and I settled here we wandered around for five years, making our way from Pennsylvania. Back then we had very little and what we did have seemed to go faster than we could scheme to get more. We never knew where our next meal was going to come from.” He held a hook aloft as he began to thread the worm onto it. “These little things saved our stomachs on more than one occasion. Starvation doesn’t seem like much of a real threat when you’ve got a body of water nearby and a few hooks handy.”

“What if you can’t find worms?”

“There are plenty of things fish will eat. Crickets, grasshoppers, flies, other fish…”

“Well, let’s just hope that today they eat worms. I’m starving.”

They had eaten most of the food Ellie had given them last night, so starved were they from the long ride out. Morgan's stomach grumbled in response to Lila's declaration. Their nighttime activities had only made him hungrier. The hook was completely covered by the plump column of worm flesh, but the boneless creature still wiggled and writhed around.

“I think he looks good enough to eat,” Morgan declared before tossing the hook out into the water. “You want to come hold this while I prepare the other line?”

Lila rinsed her hands in the cool water before rising to join him. He handed her the stick and went back to the bank to find another crawler.

“So, what do I do if a fish bites the worm?” she asked.

“Hook it and pull it out.”

“How do I hook it?”

“You’ll feel it strike. That’s when it’s biting the worm. Then, yank the line up to snag the hook and pull it out onto the bank.”

“Sounds easy enough,” she mused as she watched him bait the second hook. Soon, his line was in the water beside hers and they sat in the silence, clouds of gnats and flying insects glistening in the morning sunlight streaming through breaks in the forest.

“So,” she began, “why didn’t you become an engineer, especially after you went all the way to Germany to study?”

“To be honest,” he said with a dismissive raise of his shoulders, “I never wanted to go to Germany or be an engineer. It was my father who was dead set on his boys getting a better education than he had. He saw himself as a poor farmer. He worked all year long to feed us and he spent whatever free time he had trapping to sell furs in order to pay for our education. Unfortunately, my folks died before they could send Val to college.”

“How did they die?”

“My father had a heart attack in the field one afternoon, and I believe my mother followed him to the grave a month later of a broken heart.” He smiled softly as he thought of their marriage. “I’ve never seen a love like theirs, whether it be the love they bore each other or the love they bore their children. I hated that my father felt like a failure because of our lack of money. He gave us far more of an education teaching us how to use the land and our own intellect to live, teaching us the value of family and affection.

“When he suggested Germany, the gleam in his eye was so bright that I knew there was no way I could turn him down. It wasn’t what I wanted to do, but I figured that he didn’t spend his life doing exactly what he’d wanted to do as a youth either. He was the greatest man I knew, and if I learned anything by his example it was that sacrifice is the ultimate act of love. So, I went to Germany.

“I was gone for four years and in that time he became an old man. His body didn’t hold up beneath the weight of toil and he died only four months after I returned. When Mama died, Val and I just had to leave. The place was too…empty for us. It was especially hard on Val, and to be honest I don’t think he’s recovered from it still.”

Lila frowned. “A good parent is like an anchor. If it’s cut free from you before you’ve got your bearings it is very easy to drift away aimlessly.”

Morgan nodded but said nothing. Lila returned her gaze to the river and its soft babble.

“It’s so peaceful here,” she said finally.

“So…you like it here?”

His eyes were searching and her lips trembled into a small smile. “It will make a beautiful home for a family.” He smiled and she went on. "Yep. A whole brood of strapping young boys.”

“Boys, eh?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she chuckled then lost her gaze in the ripples of the river. “Little mimics of their father running around, digging up worms, saving helpless ladies and looking after their brothers with loving tenderness.”

“And what about girls?” he asked, and she turned to face him. “Girls with their mother’s feistiness and the guts to back it up.” His eyes roved the features of her face as he spoke. “Girls who never retreat from a challenge, who use their stubbornness to guard their hearts and hide their fear behind eyes of golden-green.”

They studied one another until he brought his mouth to hers. His lips had barely brushed hers when she felt a violent jerk and nearly dropped the stick in her hands. The wood bounced and shook between her palms, its tip arcing like a rainbow and her eyes bulged as she realized what was happening.

“Oh! Oh!” she exclaimed, coming to her feet. “I think I’ve got a fish!”

“Well, if you don’t that’s one hell of a current,” Morgan said standing beside her.

“What do I do? What do I do!”

“Remember what I told you,” he replied calmly. “Do you want me to land it for you?”

He reached out to grab her makeshift pole and she shot an elbow swiftly into his rib.

“Don’t you dare! I want to catch him!” She exhaled swiftly and repeated his instructions as she followed them. “Yank the line…” she pulled as hard she could. “Pull it onto the bank…” She reached out to grab hold of the wire, but the fighting fish was too strong for her one-handed grip on the pole. “How do I pull it onto the bank?”

Just then she felt a powerful tug pull her forward and she dug her heels in. Once her boots hit the slick sludge of the bank they slid out from beneath her and she went down flat onto her bottom, her feet in the water up to mid-calf. The fish continued to fight and she could feel her arms tiring. With a loud and unladylike grunt she wrenched the branch as hard as she could and was rewarded with a flash of silver as the fish flew up in the air. Drops of water fell into her eyes as she looked up at the flapping fins and watched them fall right into her lap.

“Hooray!” she shouted with a laugh as the fish thrashed and beat against her thighs with its tailfin. “Yeah!” She lifted the wire until the fish dangled in the air and she held it aloft to show Morgan. A thick stream of dark red blood slithered down its belly from where the hook speared its mouth. Her skirt was spattered with lumpy, black mud. Her hair was wet in places, her cheeks red from adrenaline and her smile bright with pride. Morgan thought she had never looked lovelier.

“Careful now,” he said, squatting beside her. “You don’t want him to slide free from the hook. Here, let me have him.”

He took the fish and looped his forefinger through the mouth and out of the gills. When he had secured it on a metal clip and looped the chain around a broken branch of a tree trunk to dangle in the water, he returned to her side. She was already on her knees, combing the mud with her fingers. Just as he sat down, she flung a worm at his face. Reflexively, he recoiled and batted at the flying thing and Lila laughed.

“Why Morgan, I didn’t know you were afraid of a little bitty worm.”

He said nothing but his smile was warm.

The sun was high, marking the middle of the day when they first spotted the approaching buckboard, looking like nothing more than a smudge against the brilliant sheen of the lake. Morgan looked up from where he’d been sanding a log. Philip was over by the fire ring, constructing a mine model out of twigs while Argyle watched. Lila had been in the house, rubbing down the glass windows with a scrap of useless pantaloons she’d pulled from her valise.

The sight of other people sent her heart soaring into her throat. She forced herself to relax, knowing that it had to be Val. Murdering thieves would hardly ride up in broad daylight and in full view. Slowly, each man abandoned his task and studied the wagon until Morgan and Philip disappeared into the stables, emerging moments later on horseback. Each had a fully loaded six-shooter holstered at his hip.

“Stay here,” Morgan ordered, just as Lila was stepping out of the house to join her father.

“Is it Val?”

“I think so, but if it’s him, he’s not alone. I want to make sure everything is all right.”

He kicked the horse and Philip followed him under the metal archway of the wide, gated entrance and out into the blur of heated landscape. Moments dragged on and it was another thirty minutes before the party became visible enough to distinguish its members. Ellie was in the driver’s seat beside a tall, balding man with glasses who steered the two-mule team. Val and Morgan rode along its flank, talking and laughing.

The wagon clattered through the gate and rolled to a stop. Ellie grinned as she hopped down from her perch, and Lila threw her arms around her.

“Good to see you, darlin’,” Ellie announced while she patted her back. “And looking very well, too.” She took a step back and studied the younger woman. Her hair was slightly tousled, her skin a pinkish hue and her lips a raw, inflamed swell. She pulled her toward the back of the wagon with her as she leaned in to speak in a hush. “Or very well and kissed, I should say!"