Read Lauri Robinson Online

Authors: What a Cowboy Wants

Lauri Robinson (4 page)

Chapter Six

Even with the joy of having her parents visit—they’d
traveled over an hour by buggy from Des Moines to celebrate her birthday—and
with the knowledge that Brett had said he’d arrive in time to have lunch with
everyone, Ester couldn’t help but pace between the kitchen and the front door,
just to glance down the road.

“I swear, Ester, you’re more excited now than you used to be
when Brett was coming to take you to a dance.”

“I know, Momma,” she answered. “I just can’t help it. I can’t
wait for you to see him. He’s more handsome than ever.”

“I’m sure he is, dear. And I can’t wait to see him.” Her mother
kissed her forehead before moving back toward the counter.

Ester pulled her eyes from the empty road and made her way into
the kitchen. “Mother, were you afraid when you left Boston to move out here with
father?”

Her mother sighed as she pressed a hand to her stomach beneath
the peach-colored dress Ester had given her last Christmas, and eyed her
thoughtfully. “I was a little apprehensive, but not scared.” Spreading icing
across the cake she’d brought from Des Moines to frost upon arrival, she
continued, “I loved your father so much that I’d have gone anywhere to be with
him.” She set the knife down and walked across the room to take Ester’s cheeks
between her hands. “Still do. Are you thinking about Montana?”

“I—” Ester paused at the sound of Hannah’s high-pitched squeal.
Her heart leaped into her throat. “He’s here.”

Mother grinned. “Well, go say hello.”

Ester ran, and knowing she had the right and that he’d catch
her, she didn’t stop until she’d leaped into Brett’s arms. He greeted her with a
solid kiss and a long hug that had her heart turning cartwheels.

“I missed you,” he whispered as he set her down.

“I missed you, too,” she answered, stretching on her toes to
kiss his lips one more time. Then she straightened the string tie around his
neck, taking in how handsome he looked in the white shirt. “My parents are
excited to see you. Momma’s in the kitchen and Papa’s in the carriage house with
Jess.”

She turned, tugging him with her, and laughed as her gaze
landed on the house. “Actually they’re both right there, on the porch.”

“Hello, Brett,” her father said.

“Mr. and Mrs. Larson,” he greeted.

“Brett, don’t disappoint us. You’ve called us Lizzie and Galen
for years,” Mother said, moving forward.

Ester had to step aside while her parents hugged Brett, but
instantly moved back to his side as they all entered the house, the men
conversing about horses and carriage wheels as if they’d been in the middle of a
conversation when Brett arrived.

He kept his arm around her all the way into the kitchen, and
gave her side a little squeeze as he sat down next to her father and she went to
the stove to pull out the ham she’d put in the oven after church. Lunch was a
splendid affair, and the only time the smile slipped from Ester’s face was when
she had to make a wish before blowing out the candles on the cake. She wasn’t
sure what to wish for—the ability to go to Montana or Brett to agree to live
here.

The sweet, sincere smile upon his face had her closing her
eyes, and before either wish was cast, a knock sounded on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Hannah announced.

Ester, heart throbbing, for she still didn’t know which wish to
ask for, turned when Brett laid his hand upon hers and squeezed her fingers.
Just like always, he knew her thoughts. She folded her fingers around his and
blew out the candles without making a wish.

“Oh, Minister Hutton,” Mother said as Hannah led the man into
the room. “How nice to see you.”

“Lizzie, Galen, I told Ester I’d stop by to say hello.” The
minister smiled as he nodded toward the table. “But I didn’t mean to interrupt
your lunch.”

“You didn’t,” Mother insisted. “Can I get you a plate? There’s
plenty.”

“No, thank you, I’ve already eaten, but I’d love a piece of
cake,” the man said, taking the extra chair Jesse had already gathered from the
far wall.

Once the cake was consumed, the men went to check on Father’s
wheel, and as soon as the dishes were done, Mother said, “Come, I want to see
something.”

“What?” Ester asked, following her up the stairs.

Mother went to the room she and Father used while visiting. It
had always been theirs and Ester had left it so. There, Mother opened the
wardrobe door and pulled out the dress covered with a sheet.

“What are you doing?” Ester asked. It was the gown she’d sewn
for her wedding, even though Brett had already left town. She’d worked on it for
months, covering the yards of silk and lace with tiny pearl beads, dreaming
someday she’d wear it.

“I want to see if it still fits, or if we need to make
alterations.” Mother laid the gown on the bed and started undoing the long line
of covered buttons that ran up the back.

Ester shook her head. “Brett and I haven’t—”

“Just try it on,” Mother interrupted, now holding the dress
up.

“But—”

“Ester.”

Mother had a tone no one argued with, and Ester began
unbuttoning the blue dress she still planned on wearing to Jesse’s graduation at
the end of the week. She and Brett had talked of a compromise, not marriage.
Yet, ultimately they’d wed, she had no doubt, and that had her undressing a mite
faster. After laying the blue dress aside, Ester stepped into the wedding gown
and turned for her mother to fasten it.

“You know, dear,” Mother said, “when Brett left Montana, your
father and I understood you were young, and fearful of leaving us. We made no
attempt to sway your decision either way, but at times these past years we’ve
questioned that.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Ester asked, “What do you
mean?”

Fastening the final buttons on the back of the collar, Mother
said, “You’ve been nothing but a shell of yourself since Brett left.” Walking
around the dress, she fluffed out the long skirt. “Your place is beside him,
Ester. I know Montana seems like a long ways from here, but it’s truly not that
far.”

“Are you telling me to go?” A mixture of emotions tumbled
around inside her. Not joy or sorrow, but a combination of the two. “I’ll miss
you.”

“And we’ll miss you.” Her mother framed her face with both
hands. “But we’ll visit. Your father and I would rather know that this girl, the
one who met us on the porch this morning, is happily living in Montana with the
man she’s always loved than visit the girl we’ve seen the past five years, the
one wasting away in this old house on the edge of town.”

It was true: since the day he’d left, just getting out of bed
had been a chore. “I didn’t think he’d really go.”

“Darling—”

Ester ran across the hall, into her room, and—needing her
mother’s advice more than ever—she dug out the articles.

Frowning, Mother scanned them. “Where did you get these?”

“Mrs. Wilson.”

“Wido—these are the reason you didn’t go with Brett?”

Ester nodded.

Mother set her down on the bed. “I wish you’d shown me these
then.”

“Mrs. Wilson said if Brett really loved me, he’d stay here,
where it’s safe.”

“Safe? Ester, do you really think Brett would put you in
danger? Put Jesse and Hannah in danger? He’s a smart man, a brave man, who loves
you. He’s always loved you above all else. Brett is the one who will keep you
safe above all else. No matter where you live.”

Mother crumpled up the articles and tossed them aside. “I don’t
know all of what Mrs. Wilson told you, and I don’t want to know, because it’s
time you got over it. Brett’s going back to Montana, and if you love him, truly
love him, you’ll go with him.”

* * *

Brett was fastening the wheel back on to the buggy when
Ester’s father, a tall blond-haired Swede, gave his shoulder a friendly
slap.

“Thanks, Brett,” Galen said, “for fixing the wheel and for
giving Lizzie and me our daughter back.”

The jolt that raced up his spine had Brett teetering on his
heels as he tightened the last bolt. He thought for a moment, but couldn’t
decipher what the man meant. “Excuse me?”

Galen’s blue eyes, the same shade as his daughter’s, twinkled
as he chuckled. “The moment Lizzie and I drove up and saw Ester standing on the
front porch, we looked at each other and said,
Brett’s
back.

“You did?”

“Yeah, we did. She’s a whole person again. We saw that in one
glance.” The man slapped his shoulder again. “I should have made you take her to
Montana when you left five years ago.”

Galen had always been like a second father to Brett, and Brett
felt no qualms sharing his deepest thoughts. “I couldn’t have done that. She was
too afraid.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t have broken her heart like
that.”

“I know that, son, but you did break her heart when you
left.”

Brett swallowed at the lump in his throat.

“Don’t blame yourself, Brett. You had to go, just like you have
to go back now.”

“I don’t know?” Sighing, Brett glanced over his shoulder at the
little white-and-green house. He’d made a decision this morning. Was going to
ask Ester to try Montana, just for the summer, and if she didn’t like it, he’d
sell out and they’d move back. But now, talking to her father, he wondered if
that was the right compromise. “I don’t know if I can ask her to leave.”

“You have to,” Galen said. “Your parents told me all about the
ranch you’ve built back up these past five years. I’m looking forward to seeing
it.”

Brett nodded, unable to speak due to the thick swelling in his
throat. The ranch filled him with pride and a sense of accomplishment, and he
wanted people to see it, to see how his move had been profitable. But Ester’s
happiness meant more.

“You know why she stayed here when we moved to Des Moines,
don’t you?”

Though his gut tightened, Brett shook his head.

“Because she wanted you to find her right where you’d left
her.” Galen squeezed his shoulder. “After the fire, when we brought Jess and
Hannah here, we thought Ester might take the kids and go to Montana, but, no,
she planted that stubborn little butt of hers on the chair and said if you
wanted the kids, you’d come get them. She was hoping you’d come get her, too, of
course.”

Brett could almost see the exchange, and grinned. For as much
as it drove him crazy, he loved her stubbornness.

“Don’t give her a choice this time, Brett.” Galen glanced
toward the house. “A man can only wait so long.”

Brett felt his ears reddening. He’d promised Galen years ago
he’d never overstep the boundary when it came to Ester, and yesterday, he’d come
as close to that boundary as humanly possible.

“Brett?” Lizzie called from the back porch. “Can you come here,
please? Ester needs you for a moment.”

“Sure,” he answered, leaping to his feet and brushing his hands
on his thighs.

Chapter Seven

Brett’s throat completely locked up as he took in the
sight before him. The white gown, shimmering and sparkling in the sunlight that
suffused the room through the parlor windows, made her the most beautiful thing
he’d ever seen—outside of yesterday, when she’d stood completely unclothed
before him.

“Mother wanted me to try it on, make sure it fits properly,”
Ester said, her cheeks becoming rosy.

“I’d say it fits,” he answered, grinning like a fool.

“I—I think I’ve come up with a compromise.” The dress trailed
behind her with a swishing sound as she moved forward, hands out for him to
take. “Mother said she’d asked Minister Hutton if he’d marry us today. And if
you agree to that, marrying me today, I’ll go to Montana with you next
week.”

The burst of joy inside him came out as a rough laugh. “That’s
a compromise?”

She nodded.

He was a grown man, yet had never felt the sting from tears of
joy in his eyes before, and that left him speechless for a moment. Reaching into
his pocket, he pulled out a package. “I had Fred Hammer open his store this
morning, so I could buy this for you.”

Taking the package, she folded back the paper and opened the
box. He lifted out the ring. “I was going to ask you to marry me today,” he
said. “And ask you to come to Montana, just for the summer. If you don’t like
it, we’ll sell out and move back here.”

She sighed heavily, prettily. “You were always so much better
at compromising than I was. Still are.” Then she shook her head. “But no.”

His heart stopped. “No?”

“No. If for some reason we have to leave Montana, we’ll decide
together where to go.” She folded her hands around the sides of his neck.
“Because it won’t matter to me. I now know where my true home is. Where I’ll
always be safe and loved. It’s right here, in your arms.”

“You do fit nicely here,” Brett said, taking her waist and
lifting her, long beaded dress and all, against his length. Then he kissed her
like there was no tomorrow, even though he knew there would be a lifetime of
tomorrows.

* * *

It was later that afternoon, as they walked into the
church, just he and Ester and their family members, as well as the minister of
course, that he thought of her compromise again.

He pulled her aside. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m sure. I’ve always wanted to marry
you.”

The unabashed love glowing about her had him looking forward to
married life more than ever. He kissed her nose. “No, I mean the private
wedding. You always wanted a big one, with the entire town in attendance.”

She shook her head. “The only thing that truly matters is it’s
you I’m marrying.” After a brief kiss, she took his hand and started walking
toward the front of the church. “Besides, the only reason I wanted a big wedding
was to prove to every other girl in town that you would forever be mine.”

He laughed. “There was never any doubt about that.”

The ceremony was short, but reverent. To all present, it was as
if the very heavens opened up to bless their union. Afterward, Galen insisted
upon the entire wedding party going to the hotel for supper.

News spreads fast in a town the size of Cutter’s Corner, and
half of the residents beat them to the hotel. Brett should have known these
people would want to be a part of the event: Ester had been a part of their
lives forever, and that, too, had him questioning the compromise—if it could be
called that because he wasn’t giving up anything.

He stopped shy of entering the dining room to ask her, “What
made you change your mind?”

She ran a single finger down the line of buttons on his shirt.
“You.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“You never stopped loving me.”

His throat constricted. “And I never will.”

“I know,” she whispered as her lips met his briefly before she
tugged him forward.

There was a cake, and gifts, and Frank Hespers and his brother
Owen had their banjo and washboard for the folks to dance to after the tables
were pushed aside. Holding Ester as they danced, knowing she was his wife, had
Brett strung tighter than Frank’s banjo strings, and it was in the middle of the
dance floor when the strain of wanting her became too much.

While swaying her hips beneath all that white lace and beads
seductively against his, she licked the sensitive skin next to his ear. “I want
you to know,” she whispered, “there will be no compromising upstairs. You will
definitely be taking your pants off.”

A charge as strong as dynamite hit his loins. “That’s it,” he
declared, and scooped her into his arms.

The band stopped as he headed for the doorway and staircase
beyond, and then Ester, sweet, innocent Ester—as most of Cutter’s Corner
referred to her—pulled his hat off and waved it in the air like a cowhand.

“Yee-haw!” she shouted before she flung the hat into the
crowd.

Hoots and hollers echoed up the stairway and down the hall, as
did the music, which started to play again, while he carried her to their room,
grinning the entire way. Once there, unfastening more buttons than he’d ever
seen in his life, he nibbled the back of her neck.

“Ester,” he said softly.

“Hmm?”

“From this moment on…” He paused to kiss the space between her
shoulder blades, smiling to himself as she moaned. “You are never…” This time he
tugged her backward, just enough to press her sweet little posterior between his
hips for a moment.

She moaned again and wiggled against him.

“…allowed to wear anything with more than five buttons.” He
finished with a groan.

Her giggle filled the room, and swirled around his already
overflowing heart.

“All right,” she answered. “I promise.” Tossing a sweet,
private smile over her shoulder, she added, “You should try being on this side
of all those buttons.”

A tangle of emotions sprang up inside Brett. Not the least of
these was desperation, for he was desperate to be inside her—had been since he
was about sixteen and had come to understand the glory that would be. There was
love, too, inside him, and overwhelming tenderness for this infinitely precious
woman who was now finally, truly and forever his wife.

The last button finally gave way, and he spun her slowly,
affectionately, so he could gaze into those flower-blue eyes and bask in the
devotion they showered over him.

“I love you, Ester. I know I’ve said that a hundred times over,
but it’s true, always has been. There hasn’t been a moment, not one, when I
haven’t felt that way.” In awe, as he was, his voice sounded raspy, like a wheel
needing grease. The music from below filtered in, and he shook his head. She was
giving up so much, while he wasn’t. “We don’t have to leave here. I’ll—”

Her smile grew as she placed four fingers against his lips. “I
love you, Brett,” she said, sternly, boldly, as those blue eyes captured his. “I
have for years and years. And yet, in all those years, I never took into
consideration all the concessions you made for me.” Her hand slid across his
cheek. “I want to go to Montana. With all my heart.”

She could never know how beautiful she looked right then. Her
eyes had always told him exactly what she was feeling, thinking. Five years ago
they’d held a fear he couldn’t fathom, but right now, besides love and devotion,
they held truth, and his own smile grew as he recognized excitement. For the
future. For Montana.

He picked her up and spun her around the room until they were
both dizzy and laughing loudly enough the people below most likely heard. As he
set her down, she cupped his jaw. “I’ve wanted you to do that since the moment
you arrived home.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me that, Mrs. Richards?” He picked
up and spun her again, kissing her this time.

She was the one to break the kiss. “I’ve wanted to be called
that for so many years,” she said as he set her down and her fingers started
unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ve even practiced writing it. Over and over
again.”

He caught her chin, dazzled by the smile on her lips. “You
wanted to be twirled around, and called Mrs. Richards. What else have you
wanted?”

Her grin turned into that tempting smirk as she took a step
back and dropped her shoulders, one at a time, to let the dress fall away. As
the material, yards and yards of it, pooled around her feet, she asked, “What do
you think?”

Brett became speechless, a touch dumbfounded. He’d unbuttoned
the dress, kissed bare skin, but hadn’t realized… “You haven’t been wearing
anything beneath—”

“Nope.” Stepping out of the folds, she reached down and pulled
the white slippers off her feet. “Not even socks.”

“Aw, woman,” he replied, resting his hands on the perfect
slopes of her slender shoulders. “You certainly are something.” His hands slid
down her arms and then back up the satin skin of her sides until his palms
cupped the sides of her breasts and the pads of his thumbs found the nipples.
“And the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her beauty did amaze him, and he hoped she’d never guess how
nervous he was. Not at taking her, but at being all she deserved.

She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and then reaching for
his pants, said, “I’m not going to be the only one naked this time.”

Within an instant, he was as bare as she, and they fell upon
the bed, kissing and touching and loving. Loving like they both had dreamed of
for years. He knew that about her, knew years ago he could have taken her, had
her, but only because she loved him and he her. Years of knowing that, wanting
that, had his desires peaking, but the years had also given him
patience—patience that would pay off tonight.

Brett took his time, exploring her fully, and glorified in her
explorations, which threatened to snap his resolve, especially when she folded
one hand around him, stroking him to new heights.

He inched his way toward the foot of the bed while kissing
strategic spots, swirling his tongue over the silken skin of her belly and
kissing the golden curls lower yet. Then as she arched her hips and softly cried
his name, he settled his face between her legs and lifted her to lick the length
of her core. She quivered and moaned and he tasted her fully.

Her blatant pleasure was almost his undoing. He drew upon every
ounce of restraint he’d ever had and used them all to carry her to the peak,
where she was calling his name and her legs were stiffening over his
shoulders.

Ester was sagging into the mattress when Brett positioned
himself over her, and though she was still floating in a misty dreamland, she
understood things were far from over. “Now?” she asked, thrilled the moment had
finally arrived.

“Now,” he answered.

Those beautiful brown eyes, full of love, also had a touch of
apprehension. She smiled, loving him all the more for his tender concern, and
knowing above all else he’d never put her in danger. Especially not of losing
him.

“I’ve waited my whole life for this,” she whispered, arching
her center toward the part of him she’d found so fascinating a short time ago.
There was a touch of fear inside her, she had to admit, for he seemed so large
compared to her.

“I’ll go slow,” he whispered. “But it may still hurt.”

“So I’ve been told, but that’ll be brief,” she assured, not
wanting him to change his mind. Anticipation was renewing itself inside her, and
the pleasure she’d already experienced said what was to follow would be worth
any pain.

With one hand he guided himself into her entrance, and the
connection, the feel of him gliding into her, was profound. Her hips strained
toward him, but his hands on her waist kept her from moving as he withdrew and
entered again.

A whimper bubbled in the back of her throat. Brett had always
taken extra precautions where she was concerned, to assure her safety or
well-being, and was doing so again. She understood that, yet his gentleness in
withholding the pain was torturous.

Slowly, evenly, he withdrew and moved forward again, and then
again, going a bit deeper each time. The rhythm was enticing, had her hips
rolling to meet his, and an eagerness rose from her core that soon had her
breath quickening. She felt a flash of discomfort as he broke through her
maidenhead, but she was already set on her journey and barely flinched, wanting,
needing to reach that beautiful, wonderful, yet unexplainable destination he’d
taken her to earlier.

The voyage this time was brighter, stronger, for Brett was with
her. The muscles of his back, beneath her fingers, were rock hard, and his
breathing was as ragged as hers as he held her, kissed her and propelled her
forward, faster and faster.

Ester was at that point where something had to give. “Brett,”
she cried, unable to breathe. “Brett.”

“I know, darling. I’m with you,” he answered. “I’m with
you.”

He was, and the fascinating force between them exploded,
leaving them clinging to one another, kissing and gasping each other’s names as
astonishing fulfillment sparked from one to the other and back again.

It was all she ever imagined. All she ever dreamed. For Brett
was with her. Would be forever.

* * *

Years and years later, Ester stood on the front porch of
the sprawling ranch house, where they’d raised five children, staring at yet
another beautiful Montana sunrise. She’d never tire of them, of the way the sun
turned the earth a brilliant blaze of colors before it rose higher to splay
life-giving light across acres and acres of the most wonderful ground on earth.
She smiled as the light bounced off the buildings, one of which was the carriage
house Brett had built her shortly after her arrival, and her smile increased as
warm hands circled her from behind.

“Morning, sweets.”

She leaned into the kiss he placed upon the side of her neck.
“Good morning, my love.”

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