Southern Seduction [Bride Train 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (5 page)

The movement was small, but one side of Casey’s lips finally curled up.

“Yes, sir, I shore can.”

They rode on, Byron cursing under his breath about what some did for gold and their own sick pleasure, until they heard the sound of a dog barking. It was joined by a whole bunch of high-pitched yips. Casey suddenly sat high in the saddle. He leaned forward, his face transformed into an eager child.

“They got puppies?”

“Yep. You want to see them?”

“Yes, sir!”

Casey’s smile was wide, eager, and excited. A brown and white dog with long ears flopping raced toward them, barking. It’s feathered tail curled up in welcome. Casey laughed like a girl as the dog danced around them, careful of the horses. The boy leaned over, one side and then the other, to watch. He had no problem staying in the saddle.

“That’s Daisy,” said Byron.

“She’s beautiful.”

Daisy’s tail whipped back and forth at her name. Her ears perked up at a far whistle. One last look at Casey and the dog raced back the way she’d come.

“If you nudge your horse with your heels a bit, you’ll go faster,” suggested Byron. They’d travelled the whole distance at a very slow walk. Puppies were such an attraction that Casey nudged his horse into not a trot but at least a fast walk.

A few minutes later the horses were hobbled, munching on grass. Casey had given Gabe Downey, a huge brown bear of a man, a hesitant nod before running over to the miniature pack. The boy lay on the ground covered in eager puppies. Byron couldn’t help smiling at the sight.

“Byron Ashcroft, smiling? Won’t that crack your face?”

Oscar Cutler, always eager to take a poke at anyone, approached. As usual, Byron ignored his taunting. Casey, always aware of his surroundings, darted a look at the feisty red-haired man. When Oz grinned and waved, Casey turned back to the puppies. Gabe, a huge man with a gentle nature, gestured with a tilt of his head.

“How’s the boy working out? Sophie told Sarah about his cooking.” Gabe rubbed his belly. “She was thinking up reasons to take him on for the winter, but you boys need a cook more than us.”

Casey was now sitting up. He held the runt of the litter so they were eye to eye. His mouth moved but Byron didn’t hear the words. The tiny black and tan bundle gave a yip and wagged its tail.

“A bit skittish, but it’s just his first day,” replied Byron. “He knows good Southern cooking. The redeye gravy at breakfast was almost as good as our Grandma’s.”

“Redeye gravy?” Gabe raised a lazy blond eyebrow. “Haven’t had good down-home food since we left home. You think the boy might give Sarah a few cooking lessons?”

“Casey will be helping the women with the cooking during the gather. Sarah could suggest he show them all.”

“Nothing like home cooking,” added Oz.

Casey’s delighted laugh floated toward them. Something stirred deep inside Byron. He remembered when he got his first dog. Grandma said they’d have to share it, as she wasn’t going to have three dogs as well as three boys in her home. It took them hours to agree on one puppy from the five available. He seemed to remember Marshall ending up with a black eye after their active discussion. Marshall hadn’t been with them long so they were still settling things out. Byron’s lip twitched. Twelve years later and they were still working on it.

“Any of those pups spoken for?”

“Nope,” replied Gabe. “Daniel and Billy already got theirs. Trace wants to get one for James, but Beth says he’s still too young.” He gave a lazy smile. “I won’t take a bet on who’ll win that fight.”

Byron grunted agreement. Grandpa ruled their home, but Grandma always got what she wanted. Eventually the cousins realized their grandparents discussed things at night, in bed. Whenever there was a question or problem, Grandpa said they’d sleep on it. The next morning, he’d tell them what the decision was.

They’d been surprised, or shocked in Cole’s case, at the back-and-forth teasing between the ranchers and their wives. Byron liked it, as well as the way they seemed to need to touch. Other than an occasional gentle pat, he and his cousins never saw their grandparents show affection this way. He envied how easily the ranchers seemed to get along with the wife they shared. He expected there were quite a few sparks in private, as many of the women were as strong willed as their men.

When he hinted about it, most of the husbands insisted sparks were a sign of passion. Cole disagreed with Marshall about wanting a wife who was sassy. But the more Byron saw women like Jessie and Beth, the more he agreed with Marshall. A woman who would flare up when crossed would be even hotter in bed.

Thinking of that stirred his cock. Damn near anything stirred his cock these days. He concentrated on watching Casey, who was still holding the runt of the litter, while he thought of standing hip-deep in spring meltwater.

“That the pup you want for your own?” He raised his voice so Casey could hear his question. The boy whipped his head around. His jaw quivered before he jammed his teeth together.

“Y’ain’t talkin’ to me, are ye?”

“You see any other boy holding a puppy?”

Casey carefully set the tiny creature back with the others. He stood up and stepped away. He turned his back for a moment to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand. When he faced Byron, his face was blank.

“I cain’t feed no dog, Mr. Byron. And I ain’t got no home to keep him in.” He stuck his trembling hands in his pockets and looked down.

The boy had pride. He wouldn’t accept the dog because he knew he couldn’t take care of it past spring. But there was another way. Byron strode toward the huddle of dogs. They leaped up, trying to climb his legs. Except for one. It looked at Casey and shivered. Byron picked it up. Its heart was beating frantically, almost as fast as his own. The vein in Casey’s throat was the same.

“Didn’t ask if you can feed a dog, boy. I asked if this was the one you want.”

Byron purposefully kept his voice gruff. He had an idea Casey might fall apart if he was given an ounce of kindness. He remembered that feeling.

“We need a guard dog,” he continued. “You’ll be taking care of it, so you might as well choose it. You’ll need to feed him lots, and let him sleep with you to keep him warm. You think you can do that, boy?”

Though he shook like an aspen in the wind, Casey nodded, his head down as usual.

“You can name him, since he’ll be yours to care for. Mind you, Cole will have to approve, since he’s the ramrod. Y’hear?”

“Yessir.” The choked whisper barely reached Byron’s ears.

“Then you’d best take your dog.”

Hesitantly, as if he was worried it was all a dream that would vanish in a puff of smoke, Casey moved forward. When he didn’t lift his arms to reach for the dog, Byron held it out, near the boy’s belly. Only then did a pair of shaking hands come forward. Byron gently handed him the tiny ball of fur. Casey pressed him in the hollow between his shoulder and neck. The puppy licked the boy’s throat. Byron’s own throat choked up. He coughed to clear it.

“You’d best let him get to know you. Let him sniff you all over. I guess it’s a good thing you smell so much right now. Makes it easier for the dog to learn your scent.”

Byron forced a chuckle so Casey would take it as more of a joke than criticism. Even if the boy washed every day, he only had one set of clothes, and those were so ancient they were almost falling off him. He walked back to Gabe, who’d been joined by Sarah. Her eyes were suspiciously wet. Byron blinked a few times to clear his vision.

“I’ve never seen a boy need a dog as much as that one,” whispered Sarah. She laid her forehead on Gabe’s chest and sighed. He wrapped his free hand around Luke’s wife and kissed her hair as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You need a wife like Sarah with skills in the kitchen,” said Oz, “not a boy.” He winked. “She’s not a bad cook, either.”

“Oz Cutler, you stop that or—”

Oz silenced her with a kiss. Gabe looked down at the two of them and rolled his eyes. Byron had to look away when the kiss deepened. Obviously they’d shared each other in the kitchen, as well as other places. He prayed they’d not notice his jealous cock had risen in response to Sarah’s soft moans and Oz’s low murmurs. He’d have to check the kitchen table when he got home, to make sure it was sturdy enough before they found a wife. Luckily Casey had his back to them and seemed oblivious to everything but the puppy in his lap.

“Sarah’s got a basket of baking for Jessie’s men. Would you be going that way?”

It had been a long time since Byron had gone near the Double D cabin. Not since he helped build it, in fact. A cold lump of dread settled in his stomach. He looked at Casey. The boy had done a lot of things today that scared the hell out of him. Byron could do no less.

“Get your basket,” he said.

Sarah helped Casey make a sling to carry the puppy, but Byron insisted on carrying it. After a few minutes of wriggling it fell asleep. The warm bundle lay against his chest like a baby.

Next year, would he be carrying his child? It didn’t matter if he, Cole, or Marshall created the baby, it would belong to all of them. They arrived at the Circle C without any problem. He dismounted and handed the sling to Casey. His chest felt empty, missing the heat of the small body as well as the comfort in his heart.

Charles Statham, known as Sin, strolled out from the barn. He carried a tiny black and tan bundle in his arm. The puppy heard the yips coming from Casey’s sling and wiggled to get down. Though he was intimidating at six foot six, the boy had no problem accepting the dog from Sin. A moment later Casey was on the ground playing with both pups.

“Would you look at that!”

Jessie Elliott Langford, her baby daughter over one shoulder and a coiled whip on the other, strode toward them from the direction of the cabin. Byron stiffened then forced himself to take slow, deliberate breaths. Jessie’s eyes flicked to the shoulder without the baby. She’d given him a few pointers on using his bullwhip that spring. It took a while, but he finally got to the point where he could hear the sound without his heart damn near stopping.

But that didn’t stop the memories of his dear father using one on him, repeatedly. He’d enjoyed making Byron stand still, waiting for the pop that would sound over his head or, far too often, on his flesh. Jessie stopped in front of Byron and held out her child.

“Hold Charlie while I get rid of this whip.”

“But—”

He had no choice but to grab the wriggling bundle. He remembered how, supporting the baby’s head as he held her against his chest. She stared up at him with those strange eyes, light blue with a dark gray ring, just like her father. There were few stares so solemn as that of a small baby. She reached out and grabbed. He moved too slowly. Charlie shoved her fist, and the left tip of Byron’s moustache, into her mouth.

“I’ll bet ten dollars you shave that off right after you become a papa.”

Sin snickered as Byron tried to get Charlie to release his moustache. Sin lazily raised an eyebrow over eyes that matched the baby’s. That and the blond hair proved Sin was Charlie’s father, though not Jessie’s legal husband.

“Where’d you learn to hold a baby?”

“Had a little sister with colic,” answered Byron. “Spent many hours walking and rocking her.”

Sin nodded with approval as Charlie stuck her now-empty fist back in her mouth. He crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels.

They watched the pups tumbling around Casey for a few minutes. Sin gestured at the horse with a tilt of his head.

“That basket looks like one of Jessie’s,”

“It is,” replied Byron. “Sarah sent some baking.”

Sin’s eyes lit up. “You coming in to help sample?”

Byron looked toward the cabin. He’d helped build it, but he hadn’t been inside since the roof went on. Word was that the whole north wall of the main room was lined with books. Florence, Ben Elliott’s wife, had shipped crates of them when she left Philadelphia the previous September. When the wagon arrived in town it was obvious there wasn’t near enough room in the Elliott’s Bitterroot cabin. Ace wanted a library so they’d sent the crates to the Double Diamond.

Byron’s hands shook as he undid the leather holding the basket to his horse. It was the thought of facing so many books that had him sweating. But many women in the West could read. If he wanted a wife to respect him, he had to face his fear. A quick glance over his shoulder showed the boy lying on his side, legs curled up. The bigger dog licked Casey’s face. A delighted laugh rang out. Byron turned his own face forward and, head high, stepped inside. He was going to open a book if it killed him.

* * * *

“Do you want to hold her?”

“Me?”

Casey gaped at the man who’d introduced himself as “Henry Bennett, Jessie’s third, and best, husband.” He nodded and held the baby out. She’d been shocked when she looked up to see Byron holding a baby. No man touched a child where she came from, unless he was walloping it. Worried about Charlie’s safety, she pretended to play with the puppies but watched Byron carefully. But he knew how to hold her, and how to get his moustache out of her tiny fist.

“I haven’t held a baby since—ah, in a long time.” Casey barely stopped herself before she said “since Willy was born.” She held out her arms, smiling at Charlie’s gurgles. She pressed the baby against her left shoulder, closed her eyes, and gently swayed as the baby snuggled against her. A clean scent filled her brain as Charlie’s warmth soaked into her heart.

When she came to Tanner’s Ford and heard about Jessie working as a boy for the Circle C, she knew they were in the right town. She admired Jessie for doing what she wanted, her way, even if she was forced to marry Ace after being compromised. From the smiles, hot looks, and kisses she’d seen Jessie share with her three men, they were all happy.

And now Jessie had this beautiful baby to love. Charlie’s fingernails were perfect, her knuckles dimpled, and her cheeks round. Fine blonde hair escaped a white cap. The baby caught Casey’s finger in a tiny fist. Tiny white fingers wrapped around a dirty, callused one. If she’d been able to marry, she’d already be a mother with babes of her own to love. But that damn feud had killed her uncles, cousins, and brothers.