Unconventional Series Collection (7 page)

Brant drove the horses to the front of the cabin
shortly before dusk and helped Abby down. Part of him wanted to carry her
inside and make long, sweet love to her. The other part wanted to escape her
presence and visit Molly's grave. He chose the latter.

After seeing her into the cabin, he said,
"I'll see you in the morning."

She gave him a little smile. "Okay. Good
night."

Quickly unhitching and bedding down his horses,
he made the ten minute walk to Molly's small gravestone followed by Wally. The
dog stood vigil at the foot of the grave and Brant sat and leaned against the
old oak whose branches stretched out overhead as if protective of the
happenings below. He said aloud, "Hello, Molly, love. Well, I did it. I married
her. Now the youngins have a ma. And she's a real good one." Tears choked
his next words, "But I miss you so much. I don't know if I can be a good
husband to her because of how much I loved you. Eventually, I'm gonna sleep
with her 'cause I still have those needs raging in me, but I feel guilty on so
many counts. Guilty like I'm sorta cheating on you and guilty because I'll just
be using her body for my needs. Anyway, I told her I'd give her time to adjust,
so it hasn't happened yet. And then there's Luke. He hates the fact that I've
remarried. I don't know how to reach our son."

Wally moved from the grave to stretch out beside
his master—whimpering dog words and licking his hand. Brant stroked his fur and
leaned his head against the trunk, staying near Molly's grave until well after
dark.

* * *

Abby tossed in her bed until she finally heard
the muffled sounds of Brant's return. Curling into a ball, she relived her
wedding day, detail by detail. Brant had been so kind about her stupidly
fainting. She smiled and whispered, "You are Mrs. Brant Samson and you
have three children." Then she rolled over and stared at her door feeling
a longing so intense she wanted to rush from her room, burst into his, and
throw herself into his arms to partake of the intimacies of marriage. Forcing
herself to close her eyes and relax, she drifted to sleep, dreaming of blue
eyes, black hair, strong arms, and a deep voice that whispered ardent words she
couldn't decipher because of her inexperience.

Sunlight streamed through Abby's bedroom window
and she stretched and yawned, still feeling lovely emotions from dreams she
couldn't quite remember. She crawled from bed and reached for her pocket watch.
Seven o'clock! What must Brant be thinking? She should have been up two hours ago
and kindled the stove for coffee and then retrieved eggs from the chicken coop.
She rushed to wash up in her basin and dress in her serviceable clothing.
Pausing just a moment to lovingly finger her wedding dress hanging on a peg,
she smiled and then hurried from her room. Brant was sitting at the table
sipping coffee.

"I'm so sorry for sleeping late!" She
grabbed the basket for retrieving eggs.

"Abby, I already got the eggs. Besides, I'm
glad you slept in. You had a long day yesterday. I'm kinda takin' it easy
myself. Sit down and have coffee with me."

Abby set the basket back down and reached for a
coffee tin in the cupboard while Brant grabbed a potholder and picked up the
pot. He filled her cup and sat across from her. "Did you sleep well?"
he asked.

"Like a baby."

She thought she saw a disappointed look flicker
across his face, but wasn't sure. He sipped his coffee again. "I'm gonna
leave around noon to pick the children up. Do you want to come with me?"

"Yes, I'd love to."

"Um, I need to warn you that Neal and Lita
are gonna think we, uh, you know, last night…"

Abby turned pink. "I understand."

"Anyway, they might jokingly say some
things that are kinda…embarrassing."

"Ah, maybe I'll stay here." She jumped
up. "Hey, I think I'll take a hint from yesterday and eat something. How
about pancakes?"

When Brant left after lunch to pick the children
up, Abby opened her trunk and searched the bottom of it. Finding the books
she'd packed, she placed them on her bed and looked for one Luke might enjoy
that was not already a part of Brant's collection. She'd been hesitant to give
him a book before now because of his aversion to her and the fact that he so
enjoyed dime novels. She perused her selection until one captured her
attention,
Treasure Island.
Grinning, she set the book aside, and then
hurried to ready the house for the children's return and stir beans simmering
on the stove. Next, she decided to make cookies. She'd helped Jenny a few times
and the stone hard texture had improved to a softer one. Yes, she would
surprise everyone with a sweet! Pulling out the ingredients, she set to work,
humming and grinning foolishly to herself.

When the buckboard rolled to the front of the
house, she had several dozen cookies waiting on a plate. The door burst open
and Luke slammed in.

"Hello Luke. Would you like a treat?"
she asked cheerily.

He glowered at her and shouted, "No. All I
want is for you to leave and never come back!"

His hateful words sent a dagger through her
heart and she gasped.

He rushed to the loft ladder and had just
stepped onto the bottom rung when Brant stormed in. "Luke!" he
yelled. "Get your ass back here and apologize! I won't have you talking to
Abby like that!"

She interrupted, "Brant, its okay."

"The hell it is! Get over here, Luke! Don't
make me come after you."

"Brant, please, don't…"

"Abby, this is between me and my son. Don't
interfere!"

Abby saw movement at the front door and turned
to see Jenny holding Ty and both of them with tears streaming down their faces.
Rushing over, she lifted Ty into her arms. "Come on, let's go for a
walk." She closed the door on the father and son confrontation.

Reaching for Jenny's hand she gently pulled her
from the porch and toward a trail leading away from the cabin. Jenny quietly
cried and Ty pushed his face into Abby's neck. "Mama," he said,
"I wuv oo."

Abby felt tears spring to her own eyes. "I
love you, too, baby."

Jenny pulled them toward a smaller path and Abby
followed her to a giant tree. Before they even arrived, she saw the gravestone.
Jenny stopped in front of the grave and let out a sob.

Abby went down on her knees to hold both
children. "It's okay, honey. Just let it all out. It's good to cry."

Jenny fell to her own knees and laid her forehead
on the ground, crying her heart out.

Abby sobbed with her. She wept for the woman
this family still grieved for and, with purity of heart, wished that she were
still alive.

Wally, ever present, sat quietly watching.

After a long time, Jenny pushed up and went to
place her small hands on the stone, "Goodbye Mama," she said softly.
Ty wrestled away from Abby and copied his sister. Placing his chubby fingers on
the stone, he, too, said, "Bye Mama." Then he turned and held his
hands out to Abby. "My Mama." Abby reached to lift him and caught
sight of Brant standing on the trail watching. She wondered how long he'd been
there. His faced looked emotionless when he captured her gaze, but then he
looked toward the grave and longing so deep filled his expression that Abby
whimpered. He abruptly turned and walked away.

After a few more minutes by the graveside, Abby
gathered Jenny and Ty and walked back toward the house with Wally leading the
way. When they came within sight of it, Brant rode up on his horse and said
curtly, "Luke and I are riding out to check the herd. We'll be back late.
Just leave supper on the stove." He didn't even wait for her response
before flicking his horse's reins and galloping away. Luke sat on his horse in
the distance.

After tucking Jenny and Ty into bed and telling
them a story, Abby retrieved the book she'd pulled out earlier. Slipping it in
her pocket, she picked up a lantern and climbed the ladder so she could place
the book where Luke would see it. Moving a small framed picture on his
nightstand, she laid
Treasure Island
down. She glanced at the photo and
gasped. It was a family photo. Brant and Molly stood behind Luke and Jenny and
everyone looked so happy—as if they were trying not to laugh so a picture could
be taken. Jenny looked to be about six years old. Abby studied Molly's face.
She had a sweetness that jumped out even from a photo. Looking closer she saw
that Brant and Molly were holding hands. Blinking rapidly against tears, she
set the photo back and hastily climbed down from the loft.

The next morning the routine that had been
established before the wedding, resumed. Jenny retrieved eggs and Abby now
stayed at the cabin to fire up the stove and wait for Ty to wake up.

When Brant and Luke returned for breakfast after
doing morning chores, she couldn't bring herself to look either of them in the
eyes. She heard Brant clear his throat and then Luke said, "Miz Abby, I
apologize for my behavior yesterday." Her heart pounded and she chanced a
glance at him. Was he having a change of heart toward her? Sadly, his eyes
revealed he was only speaking the words because his father was making him. She
nodded and looked back at her plate. "Apology accepted, Luke."

Over the next two weeks, nothing much changed
and Luke didn't acknowledge the book she'd set on his nightstand. She never saw
him reading it either. Sadness filled her heart.

One day, Brant said during breakfast, "Miz
Abby, I think it's time you learned to ride a horse and shoot a gun. Being on a
ranch, those skills are an absolute necessity."

Abby gulped, "Okay. If you think so."

After lunch, when the weather had warmed, Brant
gave Abby her first riding lesson. "Now, honey, this is Daisy, a gentle
mare that I'm giving to you. I've had her about five years and she's never
given me any headache."

Abby glanced at the horse that wasn't as big as
Brant's, but still looked intimidating to her.

He continued, "Just pet her nose and pat
her neck. Talk to her so she gets to know your voice. Hold your palm open and
feed her a little hay."

Abby did as he said and smiled at Daisy's
response. "I think she likes me."

Brant grinned. "I told her I was giving her
to someone as sweet as she is."

Abby blushed and turned her head so Brant
couldn't see her reaction to his words.

After an overview of horses and their
peculiarities, Brant proceeded to show her how to saddle a horse. "We'll
repeat this every day until you get the hang of it. Now, I'm going to lift you
onto Daisy and then mount the horse behind you. You'll need to hitch your dress
between your legs because we don't ride sidesaddle out here. It's too
dangerous.

"We'll just circle the corral today.
Tomorrow you can ride her alone while I lead her. In a few days we'll ride out
together and I'll show you my land…er, our land."

Abby struggled with her dress until Brant showed
her how it was done by country women, and then lifted her onto the horse. Even
though she tried to refrain from making a sound, a tiny yelp escaped.

"Now there's no reason to be scared. An
animal can sense your fear and it makes them skittish. After a few rides you'll
be just fine."

Brant's calming tone and patience helped her and
she felt herself relax a little. That is, until he mounted the horse behind
her. Now, it wasn't the horse frightening her, it was her own reaction to her
husband being so close. When he placed his arms around her and gathered the
reins, she wanted to twist in the saddle and forget the horse. She wanted to
kiss him and wrap her arms around his broad shoulders. She wanted to remove his
hat and run her fingers through his jet black hair. She wanted to.... She
stiffened at the visions running through her mind.

"Now, honey, you need to try and
relax," he said against her ear.

Abby's heart was beating so fast she thought she
might faint.

Brant made a clicking noise and flicked the
reins. Daisy clopped forward, but Abby was so lost in a sea of sensation with
Brant's arms around her that she paid little attention to the horse. Soon she
was relaxing and closing her eyes amidst visions of the two of them kissing and
doing wonderful things.

Languidly, she felt his lips touch her ear and
move lower. When his tongue licked the curve of her neck, she melted into him.

A sound distracted her and she jerked her eyes
open. Jenny stood holding Ty at the corral gate, a smile lighting her face.
"Miz Abby looks real good on Daisy."

Brant dismounted and helped her down. "That
she does." His azure gaze captured her chocolate one. "We'll continue
this lesson later."

Over the next week, Abby learned to ride on her
own and shoot a rifle and pistol. Although leery of the weapons, she realized
the truth in Brant's words about needing to know how to ride and shoot. His
praise gave her courage.

"You're a damn good shot, Abby!"

As promised, he took her on a tour of his ranch
and the beauty of it thrilled her. "I can see why you love the land
so."

They had halted their horses on a rise and she
could see their home below with smoke pouring from the chimney creating a
picture perfect scene. Abby wanted to pinch herself when she realized that she
was living in that lovely home, married to this handsome and kindly man, and
mothering three children. Other than the fact that he didn't love her like a
husband should love his wife, her dream had come true.

"What are you thinking, Abby," Brant
asked softly.

Turning in her saddle, she unabashedly smiled.
"I was thinking that dreams really do come true."

* * *

Brant couldn't take his eyes off Abby's
beautiful smile and had an inclination to jump off his horse, lift her down
from hers, topple her to the ground, kiss her senseless, raise her skirt, and
then find solace in her body. He sighed and glanced across the small valley to
the oak tree where Molly was buried.

* * *

The weather turned freezing and Abby started
school lessons with Jenny and Ty. Luke spent a lot of time outdoors with his father.

Every night, Jenny happily described her school
work to her father. Since the incident at her mother's grave, she had seemed
happier and lighthearted—as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Luke remained moody, as did Brant. Most nights, Abby went to bed after tucking
Jenny and Ty in because the morose atmosphere surrounding father and son was
more than she could handle.

One night, very late, she heard a soft knock and
Brant entered her room. He quietly closed the door. Still half asleep, she sat
up and said groggily, "Brant?"

He walked to her bedside and sat down, which
jerked her awake. "Is everything okay with the children?" she asked,
alarmed.

"Everything's fine." He reached to
push her long hair away from her face and his touch sent goose bumps down her
spine. "Abby, it's time. I want you to come to my room."

Her comprehension was immediate and she couldn't
make herself speak. Unexpectedly, he pulled her covers back, letting in the
cold air, and lifted her into his arms. Her eyes went wide and her hair
streamed over his forearms, hanging long and wavy. Quietly, he carried her from
her room and into his.

* * *

Brant had been fighting his body's raging
desires since his marriage and if he didn't give in soon, he'd never get any
sleep. As it was, he was falling asleep on his horse while working each day.
Tonight, he'd been staring at the ceiling for hours, imagining Abby in his bed.
He was married to her, for god's sake. He had every right to sleep with her.

Lowering her to his bed, he pulled the covers up
over her. Her wide-eyed stare made him smile. The thought of introducing her to
the pleasures of the body aroused his body even more, if that were possible.
Lightly, he kissed her lips and reached to turn off his lamp. He remembered
Molly had wanted it off at first to hide her embarrassment. Women were strange
creatures. They had beautiful bodies and yet wanted to hide in the dark. He
would have loved keeping the light on.

In the dark he removed his long johns and
crawled into bed beside her. He could hear her rapid breathing. He turned onto
his side and lifted a hand to graze his knuckles down her cheek. Her breathing
came faster. "Don't be afraid, Abby. I won't hurt you."

"I know you won't," she whispered
back. Her blind trust twisted something in his heart and endeared her to him.

He smoothed his hand down her hair. "You
have beautiful hair."

"Thank you. So do you," she said
sweetly, and seemed to relax a little.

He moved his fingers back to her cheek and
gently stroked. "I love your skin, so soft and creamy." Her breathing
quickened and so did his. "I know these past weeks have been strained
while everyone adjusts." He lowered his fingers to her neck and then her
shoulder. Rising above her, he said, "I'm going to kiss you."

Her breathing had turned into little pants that
were driving him crazy. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers, grazing her lips.
She softly panted into his mouth, and it took all of his willpower not to touch
her lips with his tongue. He wanted to invade her mouth with hot kisses, but he
knew that would only frighten her. He moved his lips to the corner of her
mouth, and then up her cheek to her eyes, her forehead, and then kissed the tip
of her nose before moving back to her mouth. She arched into him and he smiled.
He traced her shoulder and arm, before entwining his fingers with hers. She
held tightly to his hand. He touched his tongue to her lips. Instead of
flinching, like he had expected, she parted her lips. Slipping his tongue
inside, he explored and increased the pressure. She squeezed his hand and
caressed his chest with her other hand before encircling his neck. Her response
encouraged him and he freed his hand from hers, cupping her breast. She moaned
and lifted into his hand, running her fingers through his hair. Unable to stop
himself, he slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her with passion that kept
welling up in his heart. She reciprocated his fervor, never flinching from him.

The foreplay was so enjoyable, that he continued
it for a long time, cautiously moving his mouth to other parts of her
body—neck, shoulders, ears, and finally her breasts. She whimpered and held his
head to her. He fondled her through her clothing, and of her own volition, she
reached to untie the ribbons of her gown. The fabric parted and he groaned in
ecstasy when his mouth encountered her flesh. He lifted his head and spoke
against her mouth, "I want you. Do you want me?"

"Oh, yes," she breathed, and moved her
mouth to kiss his chest and lowered her hands to clutch his sides.

When his hands moved to the secret places of her
body and she reacted with unabashed pleasure, he thought he might burst. After
a long time, he entered her, slowly. Barely able to speak because of his
passion, he said, "This will hurt."

"It's okay," she moaned, and lifted
against him. The action broke through her barrier and he covered her mouth with
his, moving his body slowly at first and then more rapidly when her fingers
tightened until she was almost clawing his back and kissing him with
unrestrained passion. Suddenly, she arched into him making little moaning
sounds and he grinned, knowing he had pleased his wife. With a final thrust, he
spilled his seed into her. They held tightly to each other, breathing rapidly.
Rolling to the side, Brant stayed inside her and stroked her lovely hair,
pulling her head to his chest. "Thank you, Abby," he said, and closed
his eyes, finally able to sleep.

* * *

Abby turned to set more biscuits on the table
and couldn't help sneaking peeks at Brant. Her night of passion in his arms had
been the most magnificent happening of her entire life. She felt alive and
caught herself smiling.

"Whatcha smiling at, Miz Abby?" asked
Jenny.

Abby felt her cheeks burn and slid her gaze to
Brant's. He looked amused and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Yes, Miz Abby, tell us why you're smiling."

Abby almost dropped the biscuits on the floor
she felt so flustered. Brant's lips quirked as he waited for her response. His
eyes twinkled when he said, "Is it because you know we're goin' to town to
buy supplies and you've been eyeing some pretty fabric to make dresses for you
and Jenny?"

Jenny squealed. "Oh, Pa, that's wonderful!
Can we get some cloth for Ty and Luke, too? So they can have new shirts."

"I think we should ask Miz Abby about
that."

"I'd love to sew clothing for all of
you." She smiled shyly at Brant. "Even you."

"Then it's settled. New clothes for
everyone."

"I don't need a new shirt," Luke broke
the comradery.

Brant narrowed his eyes at his son and then
glanced at Abby. She begged him with her eyes and a slight shake of her head
not to chastise him.