Barefoot Bride for Three (23 page)

“They make you feel a bit like Gillis does.”

“Yes. But Nevin won’t touch a white man’s wife.” Pru folded her hands carefully on her lap. “Gillis says Nev would do whatever his wife wished. They’ve spoken of it, all three of them. They are close, and already share so much. If Gillis was alone and Amelia was willing, the three brothers would care for her as your men do you.”

Prudence clasped Beth’s rough hands in her thin ones. “If something happens to me, please speak to Amelia. If she is not horrified, please tell her how right this is for you. I believe a family is whatever one chooses it to be. Out here we must make our own rules. Caring for more than one man to make a family strong cannot be wrong.”

Beth nodded. “I agree. The people who raised me never cared whether I lived or died unless I was of use to them. Since I married Trace, I’ve discovered such…” She blinked and turned her face away.

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Yes. Body and soul. I also love Simon and that rascal Jack. I know they care for me. Trace may even love me a little, but he’d never admit it.” She took a moment to steady herself. “Trace was terribly hurt when his parents died and left him to cope with six younger siblings. He refuses to feel that way again. I believe Simon and Jack love me, but until Trace declares his love, they keep their feelings to themselves.”

“Aren’t we a pair? You’re in love with a man who’s sworn not to return it so he won’t be hurt. I’m already hurting Gillis because he knows he’ll lose me when I die. Yet neither of us would change our lives.” She picked up her glass. “Other than wishing that my lungs worked better,” she murmured.

“Consumption?”

“No. I’ve always had a weak chest. I was silly and got wet one night when I snuck out of the house as a girl. I developed a cough but never took care of it. I didn’t want my parents to know I’d misbehaved again. Since then, every winter I get worse.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I had the adventures I wanted. It’s Gillis who will need you. Will you do what I ask? Encourage Amelia to live her life as you do?”

“Considering the wonderful life I’ve found, how could I do anything else?”

Chapter Fifteen

“Where are you taking me?”

“We’re going for a ride,” replied Trace. “You haven’t been out of the house since we visited the MacDougals.”

Beth swatted the hand caressing her bottom, but it didn’t stop moving. She hadn’t worn trousers before, but they were better for riding than her skirts. The way the center seam rubbed against her made her feel wicked. Her husband’s roving hand heated her further.

“It’s a surprise.” Trace swept her into his arms. Though she kicked her feet and pounded on the arms holding her, all he did was laugh. He turned her sideways to pass through the door and into the morning sun.

“Mornin’, darlin’,” drawled Jack. He held the reins of Peaches, the old bay mare Trace had bought from Rowena Jones for her to ride.

Beth narrowed her eyes. She’d been married almost two months. She’d learned enough about her men to know such an innocent look meant trouble was brewing.

“What is this all about?”

“You’ll like it, Beth,” said Simon. He held the reins to Trace’s gelding. He nodded to her unspoken question.

“Fine! Don’t tell me.”

She’d learned to trust Simon’s word most of all. Trace still tried to protect her by withholding information, telling her she didn’t need to know the answer. Jack hid his seriousness behind charm and flattery. Neither lied, but only Simon, a solemn, deep thinker, said what she needed to know. Trace set her onto her saddle. She leaned forward and patted the patient mare. “We females will stick together, won’t we, Peaches?”

Trace climbed on Sailor, his massive brown and white gelding. The paint was distinctive, both an advantage and disadvantage. When one of his brothers rode the horse, no one knew if it was Trace with his lightning-fast trigger finger, or one of his only slightly slower brothers.

“Those chores better be done before I get home or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Don’t teach a hound to suck eggs,” said Jack. He turned his back on them and stomped into the house.

“Simon, please tell me Jack’s not cooking tonight. With this heat, I’m not up to greasy stew and burned biscuits.”

“Trust us, Beth.” Simon handed her the reins and made sure her feet were set right. “Make sure the big guy doesn’t tire you out too much.” He turned to Trace. “And keep her out of the sun.”

“Enough!” Trace nudged Sailor. Peaches, always eager, followed.

Beth concentrated on her lessons for the first few minutes. Heels down, shoulders back, head high. She’d attached a scarf to her riding bonnet that protected her shoulders and neck from the mid-summer sun. She knew she looked ridiculous wearing a man’s shirt and pants along with a pink bonnet, but it got the job done, as Trace would say.

The previous times they’d gone riding, they’d gone downhill toward the river. This time Trace headed up. Peaches, as if sensing adventure, danced sideways before Beth proudly settled her again. Warm and sunny, it was a glorious day to escape her chores.

If only she could convince Trace to do something about their bedroom. Though they hid it, she saw the yearning in both Simon and Jack’s eyes when Trace swooped her up and carried her off to sleep. Sometimes they’d cuddle, quietly talking, for twenty minutes.

Trace was her legal husband, but Simon and Jack needed her affection as well. As twins, they’d always had each other, but now and then one would hug her for a few moments when no one else was near. Nothing to heat her blood, but it warmed her heart. Trace clung to her some nights, just for her touch. Simon and Jack must have needed someone to hug as well. But the twins wouldn’t intrude between them.

Because Trace was so large, there was barely room for the two of them in her bed. If Simon or Jack tried to sleep there as well, she’d either get squashed or end up sleeping on top of one of them. Considering how they snored when flat on their backs, placing her head on a loud chest would not help her sleep.

They rose steadily, Trace pointing out ways to mark their path. Now and then a golden eagle soared above them. Trace finally stopped by a rock face and frowned. She caught up to him. He pointed to one part, then the other. It looked liked the rock had been cleft by jagged lightning, and one half pushed back.

“Yep. This is it.” He got down from Sailor and reached up to take her. He held her for a few minutes until her legs steadied. “You’re doing well. This is the longest you’ve ridden yet.”

Beth looked around the small clearing but saw nothing special. The brook they’d been following ran along one side. She walked over to it and sat on a flat rock. She splashed cool water on her face. When she turned back, Trace was gone.

Her heart pounded and she forced it to slow. No, not gone. He wouldn’t have left her alone up here. Sailor quietly cropped grass beside Peaches, proving nothing was amiss.
 
A moment later, dark green bushes shook and Trace stepped out from what she’d have sworn was solid rock. He held out his hand to her.

After hobbling the horses, he guided her through what was indeed a narrow cleft. They passed between the rocks and stepped into a closed meadow. Only then did she hear the roar of the waterfall.

“It’s beautiful!”

The brook arched over a round rock about twenty feet high. The sun made rainbows in the mist. Most of the water landed on broken rocks before rushing downhill and away. Lush growth lined the meadow walls. Underneath a dappled canopy far enough from the waterfall to stay dry, lay a bedroll. Beside it was a lumpy flour bag.

Was that the bag she’d looked for yesterday? She frowned at Trace. He strolled over to the bedroll and held his arms out to her, a determined smile on his face. Her breasts responded, swelling to fill his hands. They’d been too busy lately to play. Each night they fell into bed exhausted, then crawled out before sunup early the next morning.

She swore she’d bottled more green and yellow beans than the entire town could eat in a year. Rowena Jones, delighted to help the young Elliott bride in exchange for cash money toward her trip back East, had shaken her head at the amount the men needed. Trace must have realized how eager she was to escape the hot kitchen.

“Adam and Eve, in the Garden of Eden,” he said. “Race you.”

He pulled his loose shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. Giving up on buttons, Beth threw off her bonnet and did the same. She dropped to the grass and unlaced her boots. Socks were tossed aside immediately after. They froze, right hands on their belts and smiled into each other’s eyes.

Without changing where they looked, they unbuttoned and dropped their pants. Beth’s dropped easily once she pushed them over her hips. Trace’s got hung up on the arrow pointing at her.

“I need help, wife,” he growled.

She dragged her toes and swayed her hips with each slow step toward him. His nostrils flared as she approached. His eyes devoured her body. She stopped a few feet away and shook out her hair. He licked his lips. She slid her palms up from her waist, over her breasts, and behind her neck. She caught up her hair and lifted the mass. Her breasts rose as well, jutting out proud and free.

He growled and kicked his pants aside. She stood there, one knee bent to coyly cover herself. He stalked forward. One step. Two. Then he reached around her and captured her bottom in his hands. He pulled her tight so his cock pressed against her belly.

“Mine,” he growled.

She sighed into his kiss. She released her hair, wrapping her arms around his neck instead. The hair on his chest rasped against her breasts with the merest touch of pain. She nipped his nipple and then licked it. He moaned in response.

Nibbling his skin the whole way, she slowly dropped to her knees. She wrapped her hands around him, leaving the thick purple head free. He rocked his hips forward and back to encourage her.

“Mmm. Haven’t seen this fellow up close in a long time.” She tilted her head and looked up at him. “I’m hungry.” She licked his tip and was rewarded with a drop of salty fluid. His deep groan was all the encouragement she needed. She sucked him deep in her mouth, then pulled back, letting her teeth gently glide along his length.

“Oh, God, Beth! I can’t stop.”

She pulled away long enough to whisper, “Then don’t,” before engulfing him again. He grasped her head and pressed her close, thrusting against her. She controlled his depth with her fists, shafting him even as she sucked. His deep groan warned her. She swallowed him as deep as she could. He bucked against her, gasping. She held tight until he slowed, savoring the taste of him.

“Whoa, where did
that
come from? I’ve got to sit down but I can’t move!” He trembled, gasping and laughing at the same time. She released him and backed away, smiling and licking her lips. He fell to his knees on the bed, then his back. “C’mere, wench.”

She curled up against him, her head resting on his right shoulder. He held her tight as his violently racing heart slowed to mere excitement.

“After that, I need a nap.” He looked around. “We’re in the shade. Wake me when you’re hungry again.” He settled his arms around her and dropped off. Just as tired, she got comfortable and joined him.

* * * *

Trace watched the witch softly snoring on her back beside him. She had to be a witch. Why else would he spout poetry and explode into her eager mouth like a fourteen year old? He shook his head. He’d damn near passed out when he came that time. He picked a flower from the grass and drew it across her nipple. It immediately crinkled. He smiled and touched the other. It responded the same.

“Mine,” he whispered.

His brothers understood why he had to get her away. Just the two of them. Things would be different when they returned home, and he wanted these memories fresh in his woman’s mind.

His woman, to keep and to share.

He rested his palm above the golden curls that hid her sweet perfume. Was his child growing in her yet? No matter who planted the seed, the first babe would be his. She twitched in her sleep. He kept still until her breathing deepened once more.

What was it about this cantankerous female that made him want to hold her close so she’d never be hurt? He’d once spent most of a week with a comely whore in Virginia City. An hour after he left, he couldn’t have said what she looked like other than blonde with big tits and teeth.

One look at his Beth in the dim glow of a sheriff’s lantern and she was branded on his mind.

Her image and laugh kept him going during the long summer days. He had thought a clean house and good food would be enough. But Beth’s welcoming smile eased all his aches and pains. Sometimes he heard her singing when she thought no one was near. His voice was wrecked but his ears worked fine. He thought they were hymns but the woman couldn’t carry a tune in a basket. He’d never tell her that. Days when she sang, their loving was eager and explosive.

He wet his finger and touched it to her nipple. When he blew, it tightened into a tight nubbin. When she woke, he would tease her with his moustache. He’d drag it over her belly and thighs, nibbling every morsel of her. He’d lick her juicy folds until she’d scream in aroused frustration.