Barefoot Bride for Three (14 page)

“There’s Jackass.”

A man on a horse appeared from the woods as if he’d been waiting for them. Even from this distance she could see his body was almost as big as her husband’s.

She grabbed the seat to steady herself at the rush of…was it trepidation or something more sinful? Trace was a very handsome man, at least to her. He turned her bones to jelly with one look. The man approaching set her quivering. How could she live in the same house with three of these men and not eventually give in?

“Where’d you find such a vision of beauty?”

Jack’s voice, so melodious after Trace’s harsh rasp, slid along her skin like silk. His hot smile, though aimed at her face, seemed to see her whole body at once. Unclothed.

Unbidden, her nipples rose. She felt a pull of attraction to this man. Not as strong as with Trace, but strong enough to send her to Hell.

She meant to button up her collar before they arrived but Jack caught her showing a hint of breast. She clenched her thighs at the rush of need that shot through her. How could this happen with her husband’s brother, especially after she and Trace had just done wild things out in the open?

Trace lifted her onto his lap so she faced Jack. He caught and bunched up her skirt so her bare thighs rested on his rough pants.

That meant he could pat her bottom without his brother seeing. Trace grasped her thigh with his right hand. Jack tilted his head to look for Trace’s missing hand. She gasped when Trace slid it under her skirt. Her bottom cheeks extended past Trace’s knees, leaving her open to his hand. Jack’s slow smile suggested he knew exactly what Trace did. She punched Trace in the shoulder. Both men laughed.

“Elizabeth, this is my brother Jack. Simon’s his older twin. Jackass, this lovely creature is my wife, Beth.”

“Good day, Mr. Elliott.” Beth forced the words out, though she was almost breathless as Trace ran his rough hand over her bottom. She blinked in mortification and desire.

“Call me Jack, Beth. I can’t
wait
to get to know you better.” Jack lifted a finger to his hat in greeting and winked. “In addition to your obvious beauty, would you know how to cook? Not that we’d mind if you couldn’t. I could even choke down Trace’s grub if I could see more of you.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Lots more.”

She hesitated, sure Trace would say something about Jack’s bold comment. But he waited for her to answer.

“My husband hasn’t asked about my cooking skills.”

“Trace?” Jack hooted. “The man who lives by his stomach didn’t find out before he married you?”

“There’s more to a wife than food,” growled Trace.

Beth felt him harden under her bottom as he continued to caress her. Face flaming, she reached behind and slapped his hand. The corner of Jack’s mouth quirked up.

“Why didn’t you invite your dear brothers to the wedding?”

“Had to get married last night.”

Jack tilted his head and sucked his teeth for a moment.

“Had to? Where’d you find her?”

“Fighting Charlie in the hoosegow.”

Jack lifted a dark eyebrow. “And why, pray tell, did our industrious sheriff lock milady away?”

“Beth fought back when Big Joe Sheldrake wanted to claim her. She gave him her knee and, while he was bending over, kicked him in the ass. Frank took her boots and locked her up for her own protection. If she’d had those boots on when I first saw her, Charlie’d still be screaming.”

“I can protect myself!”

“You don’t have to anymore,” said Trace quietly. “The Elliott men will take care of you.”

A silent signal shot from one brother to another but she couldn’t decipher it.

“We surely will,” said Jack. “Don’t mind missing the wedding since you’re bringing her home for the honeymoon.” Jack wiped the sweat off his forehead and settled his hat back in place.

“Tell Sy there’ll be four at supper,” said Trace.

“Bet he already knows,” replied Jack with a quick grin. His eyes sparkled along with the smile. As Trace said, he was a man for the ladies. “You know my twin. He went after a bee tree up there.” Jack pointed to the north. “He’d see the wagon dust and check it out.”

“Um, when would he have looked?” Beth held her breath.

“Soon’s you got on Elliott land he’d have his spyglass out. Why?”

Beth’s heart beat faster than when Trace’s magic fingers caressed her. “When we stopped to water the horses you said we were on Elliott land,” she whispered to Trace. “Do you think he saw us?”

“If you were doin’ what I think you were, any red-blooded man would watch, ma’am!” Jack, with a wide, knowing smile, doffed his hat. He turned his horse and sped off, taking what must be a short-cut home.

“Huh,” said Trace with an innocence she knew was false. “I told Simon not to go hunting a bee tree. Dang boy never did listen.”

“Aren’t you upset your brother might have seen us doing…that?”

Trace slid his right hand into her shirt using the gap between her neck and bosom. He brushed her hard nipples, causing her to shiver.

“Nope. The boy’s seen naked women before. He’ll get over it.”

She arched her back when he kneaded her breast, her breathing erratic. “I don’t care about that. Doesn’t it bother you that another man saw me?” She was doomed. Jack had looked at her just like Trace did before he undressed her.

She fought back a moan when Trace moved his hand from her bottom to her front. He gently pressed her legs apart to reach her core. When he touched her like this she couldn’t think, much less talk. She gave in to a moan, leaning back and spreading her knees while he stroked her. His nostrils flared and he grinned when he found the sweet spot between her legs soaking. She closed her eyes against his self-satisfied look.

“He’s not another man, Beth. He’s my brother.” He sent two fingers into her, curling them forward against a wonderful spot.

“Why…
Oh yes!
Why is that different?”

“You’ll be living with all of us. They’re going to see you naked.”

“What?” She forced her eyes open and stared up at him. His eyes were half closed, like a cat full of cream dozing by the fire. But the fire was in his touch.

“What if Simon saw you riding me?”

He lightly stroked her clit. She shivered and clenched her thighs, capturing his hand. He rasped a chuckle. She hadn’t known this magical feeling existed when Trace protected her in the jail. Last night, this morning, and again by the stream, he’d shown her the rapture possible between a man and a woman. She craved his touch. But now she felt a pull to his brothers. She should be ashamed rather than eager.

“Thinking about Sy watching makes you wet, don’t it? And you’re wondering about Jack, too.”

“Um…”

“Don’t hide it, sweetheart. Your nipple was hard before I touched you.”

Her mind whirled. What could she say? She knew wives were beaten for merely smiling in thanks when a man held the door. Trace leaned over and locked his dark eyes on to hers, holding her tight.

“Jack and Simon want you as much as I do, Beth. You’re the only woman they’ve seen since before winter. We won’t force you. But it isn’t right if three brothers live in one house with a woman, and only one man gets pleasure.” His lips rose in the sensual smile that melted her insides. “Especially if she can get pleasure from all of them.”

She pressed her lips tight, refusing to understand his words. He gently brushed a knuckle over her cheek.

“If any other man touches you, he’s dead. But we’ve shared everything since Ma and Pa died. Everything. You’re an Elliott now. I want you to think about what that means.”

Trace set her on the seat beside him. For the rest of the journey he watched the road, saying nothing. She twitched and fidgeted the whole way. Trace’s straining pants told her how much he wanted her. His brothers would be the same. What if their touch made her as wild?

She’d exploded every time his hands, mouth, and manhood did those wonderful things to her. What would it be like to have three men bring her pleasure?

* * * *

Beth made sure every button was secure before the horses started up the last rise. Her new home was far bigger than the cabin Trace had mentioned, but she paid little attention. All she saw were the two big men waiting. As Trace said, Simon and Jack were not identical twins. Simon’s hair was black and scruffy like Trace’s while Jack’s was brown and neat. Their clean-shaven faces, lighter where beards had stopped the sun, showed a few recent nicks.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Elliott. I’m Simon. You sure are pretty.”

She could tell from Simon’s knowing smile that he’d watched when they played. She burned wherever his eyes lingered. Trace lifted her down from the wagon. Her feet had barely touched down when he swooped her into his arms. He carried her into her new home and set her down facing the door.

“Time to kiss the new bride,” said Jack, rubbing his hands and grinning.

“Later, boys,” said Trace. “That wagon needs emptying.”

When the three of them left she crossed her fingers. Having spent three days in jail while the local ne’er-do-wells dropped by, she could imagine what a house with three bachelors looked like. She turned around.

“Oh my!”

She stood in an open area facing stairs. The floor was dirty, of course, but far from the muddy mess she expected. Even better, it was made of wood and not pounded dirt. To her right was a kitchen with a long table and benches. On her left was a dusty parlor. Feeling as if she should tiptoe, she stepped down the narrow hall to the left of the stairs. Behind the parlor she found a room with a double bed, rocking chair, and dresser with mirror. Trace’s bedroom, now hers as well?

None of the rooms had doors. She returned to the kitchen to find Simon placing the half-empty picnic basket on the recently scrubbed table.

“Me and Jack sleep upstairs,” he said without looking at her. He went back out for another load.

That meant she’d share the doorless bedroom with her husband. Wouldn’t a married couple have more privacy upstairs? But exploring could wait for more urgent matters. When she hurried out the door Trace pointed at the privy and she eagerly went to it. She almost cried when she discovered it also lacked a door. Worse, it had boards across the bottom. She had to lift her skirts high to step over. At least the open door faced away from the house. She wrinkled her nose at the smell, did her business quickly, and returned to the pump to wash her hands.

“We took off the door as soon as it warmed up since it gets a bit high in there after winter,” said Jack, “but we can put it back on for you.”

“It’s hard to step over that barrier in skirts,” she replied.

“Better than having a porcupine chaw away at the salt on the seat. That’ll give you slivers in your ass.” Jack’s eyes lit up. “I’d be mighty proud to help get them out anytime you want.”

She pretended she hadn’t heard him. She followed the men into her new home. They placed fabrics and notions in the parlor and food in the kitchen. She stoked up the fire for a bracing cup of tea, then investigated the pantry. After the long winter many empty jars and stoneware crocks waited refilling, sitting upside down to keep vermin out. A few clear jars still held fruit, vegetables or sausages. She hoped there was potted meat in some of the crocks for a quick dinner.

“No work for you today,” said Trace. He set down the last case of empty Mason jars. “It’s Sy’s turn to cook. You put your feet up while we finish the barn chores.” He ushered her into the parlor. “I want you wide awake after supper. Tonight will be another first for us.”

He left the room with a wink before his brothers caught them together. If Trace said to rest, she might as well take advantage of it. This might be the last time she’d be off duty.

She ran her finger though a thick layer of dust on a sturdy bookcase. Ewall’s
Medical Companion
sat on the top shelf with Pike’s
Arithmetic
and Byerly’s
Speller
. A line of McGuffey’s readers finished the row. The next shelf held her favorites, the collected works of Shakespeare. With six sons, the
Robinson Crusoe
and
Don Quixote
would be popular.

Trace’s mother must have been a strong woman to raise all those boys and a daughter. She’d love to have seven children of her own. But there’d be laughter in her home, not the icy silence or furious fists she’d grown up with. She lifted a dust sheet off the horsehair sofa and settled back. She’d close her eyes for a moment, then make that cup of tea.

Nibbling lips roused her. She opened her eyes, relieved to discover her husband leaning over her. He held out his hand and helped her to her feet.

“The boys hung a curtain,” he said, pointing to their bedroom. How had she slept through someone nailing up an old white sheet?

She followed Trace into the kitchen, wrinkling her nose at the smell of burned food. Jack and Simon stood up from the bench opposite her. The air disappeared from the room and her womanly parts melted.

All three men were ruggedly handsome, tall, dark, and broad. Trace’s eyes were almost black, Simon’s a gray-green and Jack’s were brown. All three sets followed her every breath. She crossed her arms to hide her swollen nipples but fooled no one, as proved by their knowing smiles.