Between his rasping breath and her moans, and the way the headboard banged against the wall, anyone passing by in the corridor would have no doubt exactly what was going on in this room.
His hips ground against hers, and she stiffened beneath him. She was so close, but fear or embarrassment was stopping her from taking that leap. Her reached between them again and found her engorged bud, flicking it once, twice with his thumb.
With a long shuddering gasp, she climaxed, her body softening, heating around his cock in an embrace so tight he couldn’t hold back. Need raced down his spine, bowing it as his balls drew up tight to his body. His seed jetted from him in long steady pulses, her sheath milking every last drop.
His lungs burning, he collapsed beside her. If he’d had any doubts that they’d suit when they were standing in front of the preacher this morning, she’d just removed one. When it came to the pleasures of the marriage bed, he had no doubt he’d done his duty.
Something inside him shattered when she rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled closer. Despite what she’d been through, what she still faced, she trusted him. A complete stranger.
She was a gift, one unexpected, unlooked for. One he would treasure forever.
Chapter Four
“It’s been a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” The leader of the four Texas Rangers who had accompanied them touched the brim of his hat to Sarah before shifting in his saddle to face Nate. “You shouldn’t have any problems from here, so if you don’t mind, we’ll leave you and head into town.”
Nate shook the Ranger’s outstretched hand. “Thanks, Zack. I appreciate you accompanying us all this way.”
“My pleasure. My mama will be pleased to see me back around these parts. And she’ll be right happy to hear there’ll be a new member of the congregation to help her with the church socials.” His gaze briefly slid to Sarah before returning to Nate. “As for that matter we discussed, we’ll head back in the morning to check out your suspicions.”
That her family had planned to steal back the horses, Sarah knew he was trying not to say. “Excuse me, but what will happen if you find proof that they have been rustling?”
“That’ll be up to the circuit judge, ma’am.”
If they made it to court. If anyone else discovered what they’d been doing, Walt and her stepfather might face a lynch mob. Sarah wasn’t sure how she felt about the emotions tumbling inside her.
He touched his hat once more then held out a hand to Jackson. “Congratulations again, Kellar. You’ve got yourself a lovely bride. I expect there’ll be a few ladies around town who will be disappointed you got yourself hitched.”
After another glance in her direction, the four Rangers turned their horses and headed back to Barnett Springs.
“If anyone can get to the truth, it’s Barnett and his friends, Miss Sarah,” Nate said. “For all we know, your brother isn’t guilty of anything more than shootin’ the breeze.” He clucked to his horse and urged it into a trot ahead of them.
Sarah clung to the reins until her knuckles whitened. No, they’d planned things too precisely for it to be idle chatter. That she may have just sentenced both McLeods to jail, or worse, sent a shiver running along her spine with spiked claws. If proof couldn’t be found, would folks turn on her as an ungrateful hellion? After all, while Josiah had never had a kind word for her, he had fed her and clothed her while her mother was alive instead of casting her off, selling her to a whorehouse or leaving her on the steps of an orphanage the way others had muttered they’d have done.
“You did the right thing telling us about them.” Jackson walked his horse until he was next to Bandit. “If that fella Jed had decided to meet us where you said, who knows what might have happened to you.”
The gentle ferocity of Jackson’s voice dispelled the coldness that had formed in her belly, replacing it with a warmth she’d grown to expect whenever he spoke to her. He wasn’t angry at her but at her brother and father
for
her. The novelty of not being automatically blamed was almost overwhelming.
“What’s so funny?” His scowl made him look even fiercer, yet she couldn’t stop her smile from spreading.
“I’m not laughing at you.” The words grateful, vindicated, comforted all floated to the surface when she searched for a way to describe why she was smiling, but she discarded each of them. None were exactly right. He waited, watching her with a hawklike gaze. When it became obvious he wouldn’t be satisfied until she told him, she relented. “I cannot begin to tell you how happy it makes me feel that you believed me.”
“Why wouldn’t I? What reason would you have to lie?”
It was exactly the same argument she’d posed to her stepfather on numerous occasions she’d been blamed for something she hadn’t done. Her smile faded. “I’m not used to being believed. Especially when it comes to something Walt’s done.”
The leather on his saddle creaked as he leaned across to stroke her cheek. “More proof McLeod is a fool.”
He froze as if he’d just realized what he’d done, what he was doing. He pulled his hand back and set his horse in motion.
Sarah didn’t bother to hide her smile this time—he wouldn’t see it unless he glanced over his shoulder. This tall hard-looking man had a gentle side to him she’d not expected. Not only in their lovemaking in the hotel, but on the four days since. He’d constantly asked if she needed a rest when they’d been on the road for a while, especially that first day when he knew she’d been sore. He made sure she kept her water canteen filled and checked Bandit’s hooves for stones at every stop.
Then there were the ways he found to touch her, the way his thumb would stroke her side that extra second longer than necessary when he helped her down off her horse at each rest stop. Or how he would place his hand at the small of her back when they’d walked along the sidewalk in Abilene, or to a bush when she’d needed privacy.
The nights when they’d had to make camp at the side of the road, he’d fussed over her comfort. Though he hadn’t exerted his husbandly rights, the intimate touches continued beneath the cover of the blanket he pulled over them both. When they slept, she’d often awoken to find him curled around her, as though she were something precious to be protected.
They traveled another ten minutes before she broke the silence. “How much longer until we get to Nate’s place?”
“We’ve been on his land pretty much since the Rangers left.” They crested a hill. He pulled up his gelding, waiting until Bandit picked his way up the rocky path to his side. “You can see the roof of his house past those mesquites.”
She stood in the stirrups to see through the opening between the trees. The house he pointed to had porches that ringed both levels, and gables decorated the eaves beneath the tiled roof. Whoever had built it had spent hours, and money, adding touches that spoke of love and pride. “It’s bigger than ours—I mean the McLeods’.”
“Sure enough is. Nate’s parents built it, but he’s made a few changes since he inherited it.”
“It’s much nicer than I expected. Bigger.” What had she been expecting? They’d paid her father in cash, and the horses they rode were of good quality, as were their saddles.
She stared down at her worn and patched gloves. Jackson had bought her a new pair their first night in town, but she’d hated to get them dusty and worn before she’d even arrived at her new home. What would they think of her arriving in her homespun dress and repaired boots? Of her straight black hair that hung down her back in a single long plait, instead of being tucked into a more fashionable chignon?
Inside her gloves, her palms grew sweaty.
When she looked back at Jackson, his brows were drawn together. “I ain’t gonna be able to afford to build a place as fine,” he said. “You’ll probably find yourself living in a log cabin with no new-fangled indoor plumbing or any of the amenities.”
She was about to reply that she was used to outdoor plumbing and didn’t need fine things when he glanced away, his lips thin lines from how hard he’d pressed them together. “I’m bettin’ you’re wishing McLeod made you marry Nate instead of me about now. I know I am.”
If he’d slapped her in the face, it couldn’t have hurt more. Annoyed that she’d misjudged him so badly, that she’d actually thought they might suit, Sarah set her heels to Bandit’s flanks. Running away, not even sure where she was going, seemed more desirable than staying another place where she wasn’t wanted. A moment later, horse hooves pounded on the track behind her, but she urged Bandit to lengthen his stride. She’d be damned if she’d give Jackson the pleasure of seeing the tears threatening to spill.
***
Nate jumped from the saddle and handed Annabelle’s reins to one of the stable boys who’d come running at his approach. “Is your grandma around, Henry?”
“Yessir, she’s in the kitchen.” The boy’s grin shone bright against his grime and sun-darkened skin. “She figured you and Mister Jackson would be back today, so she’s been bakin’ up a storm.”
“She has, huh? She making biscuits?” His mouth watered at the thought.
Henry’s head bobbed. “Yes, sir, and ribs too.”
Grinning, Nate took the steps two at a time. His spurs jangled as he strode across the porch and stepped into the front hall. He inhaled a lungful of the heavenly scent filling the house. Nothing smelled as good as Miss Martha’s cooking. His belly already growling its approval, he’d taken two steps when the kitchen door swung open.
“You stop right there and take your boots off, Nate Campbell.” His housekeeper folded her arms and glared with that same look his mother had given him when he was six and he’d pried the chair rails off the walls—not only in his bedroom, but the entire upstairs hallway. “I just swept, and I’ll not have you fillin’ the house with your dust again.”
“I’m going right back out in a minute.” Nevertheless, he backtracked to the sisal rug outside the front door. “I thought you’d appreciate some warning that company’s coming.”
“Oh, lordy, boy, who have you brought home this time? It better not be Miss Eliza after the way she treated you last Christmas.”
He winced at the memory of Eliza’s reaction when he hadn’t given her an engagement ring as she—and her mother—had expected. “No, not Eliza. Jackson’s got himself hitched while we were away, so I’ve invited him and his…wife”—would that word ever not stick in his throat?—“to stay.”
“Hitched. Jackson?” Martha stilled, her eyes searching his expression which he struggled to keep bland. “He didn’t get roped in by one of those painted ladies over in Austin, did he? Or some wilting flower from back east?”
“No, ma’am, neither of those. It’s a long story and they’ll be along shortly, but I think you’ll like Miss Sarah.” To back up his words, hoof beats pounded in the distance, coming closer.
To Nate’s relief, the impending arrival of company distracted Martha’s examination of him. She whipped off her apron as she disappeared into the kitchen.
Moments later she returned, one hand smoothing her skirts, the other fiddling with the crocheted net holding her hair in place. “Am I presentable?”
“Of course.” He held open the screen door, and they both waited on the porch as Sarah raced toward the house, Jackson’s gelding hot on Bandit’s heels.
When she saw Sarah galloping down the lane on Bandit, Martha cuffed the back of Nate’s head, knocking his hat to the ground. “You made her ride on horseback all the way? You couldn’t have at least hired a coach or taken the train?”
“It’s her own horse she’s riding.” Nate stooped to pick up his hat and banged it against his thigh, knocking off the dust it had picked up. “Plus, Jackson had to help with the other horses. Besides, she said she’d rather ride horseback than be cooped up in a coach.”
Martha harrumphed in displeasure. “Of course, she’d say that, bless her heart. A new bride worth her salt wouldn’t want to be a burden on her husband, would she? Shall I put her in the bedroom where Jackson keeps his things?”
Not
Jackson’s bedroom
. That they hadn’t managed to fool her as to where Jackson slept should not have been a surprise. Nate whispered a prayer of thanks that Martha hadn’t publicly decried their behavior. “I think that would be best.”
Nate jumped from the porch as Sarah pulled Bandit up in front of them. He caught Bandit’s bridle and held the stallion as Sarah swung from the saddle. “Welcome to the Circle Star, Miss Sarah.”
“Thank you kindly, Mr. Campbell.” Sarah dropped into a polite curtsey. When she rose, she placed her gloved hand in his in a move that made Nate’s breath catch.
If only McLeod had listened to his argument, then Sarah would be walking up the steps as his wife, calling him Nate. Following him to his bedroom—their bed. Instead he’d have to keep his distance from her while pretending he wasn’t aroused by her grace.
“Your home is lovely.” She swallowed several times. “Thank you for letting us stay here until we find a place of our own.”
Upon closer inspection, Nate realized her eyes were red. She’d been crying. Shit. Had she just realized she’d probably never see her old home again? Jackson’s glower was black as thunder—his eyes narrowed to slits, and his eyebrows drawn so there wasn’t but a sliver of skin between them.
Damn it, Nate cursed to himself. He’d left them alone for fifteen minutes, twenty tops, and they’d managed to have a spat?
Damning McLeod once more for turning him down, he tucked her hand beneath his elbow and walked her to where his housekeeper waited. “Mrs. Martha Simons, I’d like you to meet Jackson’s bride, Sarah.” He helped her up on the porch. “Miss Martha here drops by from time to time to keep me in line. If Jackson’s lucky, maybe you’ll be able to convince her to divulge the recipe to the sauce she uses on her ribs.”
Martha must have caught the tension between the newlyweds as well, because a furrow appeared in her forehead and her tone was cool when she nodded to Sarah. “Welcome to the Circle Star, Miss Sarah. Why don’t you come inside while the men take care of the horses?”
Nate stayed where he was, waiting until Sarah followed Martha into the house before he rounded on Jackson. “She was fine when I left you two alone. What did you do to upset her?”