Lonesome Bride (6 page)

With a brief glance behind her, Caite headed for the door of the ramshackle building that would be their shelter for the night.

Jed leaned against the wagon for several minutes, willing the chill rain to slow the raging of his blood.
Lord above!
Did she know what she was doing to him? She had been all fragrant hair and sweet lips pressed against him. She was driving him wild. It had taken a Herculean effort to tear his hand away from the sweet mound of her breast. No woman had ever affected him this way. Kissing Caite had been like tasting the first fresh berries of the season; he wanted to gorge himself until he was replete.

"She's here to marry Pa,” Jed muttered aloud, willing himself to regain control. “No matter what pretty glances she sends your way, Jedson, she's not for you."

The rain was chilly against the tender flesh of his neck, but Jed didn't mind. Maybe the cold water would douse the liquid fire that had built up in his veins from Caite's kiss. If only she would slap his face again, instead of giving in every time he kissed her! If he only knew his embrace was not welcome, he'd have no trouble keeping his desire in check. He had never forced his attentions on a woman, and he never would.

Still, that was the whole problem. He wanted Caite O'Neal like he had never wanted any other woman. And, it seemed, no matter how wrong it was, she wanted him, too. How could he resist her when she was so willing?

She was a contradiction in lace and gingham. On the one hand, she had pointed out to him very strongly that they were to be a family, and should get along. On the other, she had responded to his kisses like she was tinder and he a match.

He had sensed an inexperience about her in the way she kissed him, but her fervor seemed to belong to a much more experienced woman. What was she—innocent mail-order bride or wanton vixen who only wanted to stir up trouble? Why else would such a lovely young woman agree to travel thousands of miles from her home to marry a stranger, if she was not trying to escape some sort of reputation?

Willing himself to forget the feeling of Caite in his arms, Jed began unloading the wagon. As he opened the lid of her trunk only halfway, so as to keep the rain out, a bewildering array of femininity confronted Jed. He had no idea what she would need for the night. His eye caught sight of a pair of lace-trimmed bloomers and the heat rose back in his cheeks. That cloth had been pressed to places he could imagine all too well. Hurriedly, he pushed the fragile garment aside and grabbed the first several bulky items that came into his hand. These would have to do.

Jed ran with the clothes to the overhang outside the cabin's door and left them. Then he turned to the horses, stamping and puffing in the driving storm. With speed gained through long experience, he unharnessed them and led them both to the small stable at the rear of the cabin. He forked some hay for them, gave them fresh water and made sure the door was shut tight behind them.

For one brief moment, he considered staying in the stable where he could not be tempted by Caite's sweet pink lips and lush curves. That would be the cowardly choice, he thought. And he wasn't a coward. With a deep breath and a mental flexing of his muscles, Jed headed toward the cabin to face the battle he knew he probably would lose.

Caite's first reaction to the sight of the night's accommodations was dismay. That quickly changed to amusement, however, as she realized that no matter how dirty the shack was, she was dirtier. The entire small building consisted of a single room. A vast, grimy fireplace took up the breadth of one wall. Against another was a low, sturdy bed with a straw mattress piled on top.

"Lumpy, I shall guess,” Caitleen remarked. “Hardly big enough for two."

The thought of sharing the space with Jed made her stomach do a slow, sensuous roll. Her heart was still pounding a little from their passionate exchange. Surely he could no longer be angry with her, not after kissing her that way.

Caite shivered pleasurably. Tonight, would she and Jed become man and wife, not in a church wedding, but in time's oldest fashion? Even though throughout the past two days he had been a thorough oaf, she found the idea of making love to him exciting. Briefly, she cupped breasts still prickling from his touch.

One of the horses neighed from outside, and she shook off the erotic lethargy. She had a lot of work to do in this place if they were going to be comfortable. First, she was pleased to note, the rest of the cabin's walls held shelves filled with supplies enough to last several days. The fireplace, though filthy, held enough wood to start a comfortable blaze. Obviously, someone used this cabin enough to keep it stocked, if not in perfect repair. She quickly bent to the fireplace and, using the tinderbox she found on the mantel, lit a roaring blaze.

Using the basin and ewer she found on the table, she leaned outside and in moments had a filled the porcelain jug with water. Set by the fire, it warmed nicely in minutes. She used the water to rinse her hands and face. The water turned almost instantly black. She dumped it out the door, noticing the storm had not abated, and got some more. Jed would like to bathe, too, she thought.

Jed blasted in from outside, hands full of bundles he promptly dropped on the floor. Slamming the door against the howl of the storm, he wiped the water from his face and shook his dark hair like a dog. Caite laughed at the sight.

"I'm glad you find me funny, Caitleen,” Jed said, “but if it's my looks you're laughing at, you've no room for poking fun. You're a sight yourself."

Caite looked down at her ruined clothes and laughed ruefully this time. She knew her hair must be plastered to her face, but at least she'd cleaned away most of the mud. Still, she could imagine how she must look.

"I suppose you are right, Jed. I look frightful. We'll both need to change our clothes and clean up as best we can before we do anything else."

"I reckon you're right. Your things are right here."

Jed tossed her the bundle he had pulled indiscriminately from her trunk. She saw he had chosen two of her night rails, a petticoat and one of her gingham work dresses. Smiling and shaking her head at the ignorance of men, Caite thanked him.

"I'll just turn around and wait,” Jed said pointedly. “While you change, I mean."

"Nonsense,” Caite replied. “You're just as wet as I am, Jed. There's no sense in you shivering and possibly catching your death of cold by waiting. We'll change at the same time. I'll stand over here and you can use some of the water to clean off the dirt."

Jed nodded and turned his back on her. As he began to fumble with his wet clothes, Caite found herself unable to look away. She was fascinated by the sight of Jed's naked back, so close she could have reached out and touched it if she so desired. And she guessed she desired, all right. His smooth, tanned skin looked so tempting she wanted to run her fingers over it.

His trousers were pulled slightly down, revealing a narrow waist and the first delicious glimpse of strong male buttocks. Suddenly, she longed to press her tongue to the patch of crisp dark hair marking the line between back and bum. Her face flushed, and she felt a little dizzy. Mercy, what was she thinking? If Jed thought her wanton to show her bare head, she could only guess his reaction to her kissing him in such an intimate spot.

With numb fingers, she hurriedly undid buttons and pulled her soaked blouse over her head. Her skirt was next, then her bloomers. For a moment, she stood naked in the fire's flickering light. She knew if Jed turned now he would see every part of her, and she was tempted to stay just as she was until he did. At the thought of Jed's eyes feasting on her, a tingling burst flared between her thighs. This was too much.

Quickly pulling her dry night rail over her head until she was covered, Caite tried to push the carnal thoughts away. “I'm dressed,” she said a little breathlessly.

Jed dared not turn around just yet. Although he had not seen Caite undressing, he had heard every enticing sound. First, a rustle of soggy petticoats falling to the floor. Then, more unbearably, the sound of tiny, perfect buttons being expertly teased from their holes. Plink, plink, plink. Closing his eyes, Jed thought fiercely of dead cattle bloating in the sun, rancid milk, anything to keep his mind from picturing the body beneath the falling garments.

He had almost succeeded when, to his ears, came the distinct sound of knickers being stepped out of. His hands, which had been on the waistband of his trousers, hesitated. He had been ready to push the pants off his hips and to the floor, but now his rod had vibrantly sprung to life with erotic energy. He could sense Caite's eyes upon him, which was torture, but the thought she would be able to see just how she had affected him was unbearable. If he saw even the briefest glimpse of invitation in her beautiful Irish eyes, he would be lost. This time, he would not be able to stop with a few mere kisses.

Concentrating grimly, Jed tried to tame his erection without success. Finally, with a determined grimace, he pushed his pants off one leg, then the other. Swiftly grabbing the dry pair he had brought from the wagon, Jed pulled them up to his thighs. Then, taking several quick, deep breaths, he surreptitiously pinched himself as hard as he could at the tender junction of groin and leg. Instantly, tears of agony sprang to his eyes. Just as quickly, his erection wilted like steamed spinach.

Shaking off the pain, he pulled his pants up the rest of the way, and hastily used the water to clean his hands and face and places where the mud had splattered. Then he turned back to Caite. Despite the grime, she was fetchingly lovely in her linen gown, which, he thankfully noted, covered her demurely from neck to toes. She was also red-faced and guilty-eyed. Jed knew she had not turned away while he was dressing. He chose not to mention the fact.

"Let's get something to eat,” he said instead.

Caite nodded eagerly. “I can warm some meat and bread from the basket."

Each hurried about individual tasks, and quickly, the mouth-watering aroma of hearty food filled the little cabin. The pair huddled cozily close to the fire, stuffing their mouths with hunks of crusty bread and juicy slices of beef.

"How much will this rain set us back?” Caite asked.

Jed noted reluctantly that her hair was drying into perfect, alluring ringlets around her oval face. “If we're lucky, the storm will end tonight. If tomorrow dawns clear and the roads dry fast, we can be on our way in the late afternoon. We won't get far, though."

"And how long is it to Heatherfield from here?"

"At least a day's ride."

"I am truly looking forward to seeing it,” Caite declared.

"Well, it's going to be your home,” Jed told her. “I imagine you're anxious to get off the trail."

"Will you tell me about it, Jed?"

She sounded so winsome he could hardly refuse. Besides, it was getting harder and harder to constantly bait her anger or push her aside with gruff words. It was not Jed's nature to be cruel or harsh, and her anger never lasted long enough to really protect him from her charms.

"We have the finest horses and best breeding program this side of the Missouri River,” Jed told Caite proudly. “But I guess you'll be wanting to know about the house and such."

"Oh, anything!” Caite replied eagerly.

"Well, my Pa built the house for my Mama, so it's got a real womanly touch to it,” Jed said. “There's a nice garden, vegetables and flowers and such. Lorna—she's our housekeeper—is looking forward to some help with that. I'll have to warn you, though. Cooky's been with us for longer than I can remember. He'll likely have a say in anything to do with the cooking."

"It sounds lovely,” Caite murmured a little dreamily.

"We have horses, of course, which you'll be welcome to ride. That is, if you know how to ride.” Jed eyed her speculatively. “We don't have a sidesaddle."

Caite laughed. “I assure you, Jed, I can sit a horse quite well. And I do not need a sidesaddle. I can ride astride."

I'll just bet you can, Jed thought helplessly.

Caite must have guessed his thoughts because she blushed. Suddenly changing the subject, she feigned a deep yawn. “I think we ought to turn in. It's been a very ... eventful day."

"Of course, Caite. You must be exhausted."

"And you as well, Jed,” Caite responded.

Awkward silence fell between them. Both were thinking of the narrow bed along the wall, and how the close quarters would affect them.

"You take the bed,” Jed said in the same instant those exact words came from Caite's mouth. “Don't be silly, Caitleen. I don't expect you to sleep on the floor."

"Well, you had just as much a soaking as I,” Caitleen countered. “I don't think you should risk catching the grippe by sleeping on a drafty floor."

"Out of the question. We can't share a bed."

Caite lowered her eyes for a moment, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. Then she looked at him earnestly. “I promise to stay on my side of the bed."

Jed groaned. “Oh, Caite."

She held up her hand to stop him from speaking. “No, really! I think, as two adults, we should be able to share space without ... without...” Words failed her for a moment, but she struggled on. “Without impropriety,” she finished.

Jed looked at her for a long moment. The thought of curling up beside a warm, fragrant feminine shape was definitely appealing; the idea of spending the night on a drafty, hard floor most definitely was not. As much as he wanted to believe Caite's statement the two of them could share a bed without impropriety, however, he sincerely doubted it would be the case. A man would have to have nerves of iron to withstand that kind of temptation.

Jed Peters had always prided himself on being strong.

"All right,” he conceded. “But you have to promise not to steal the covers."

Caitleen flashed him the sunny, unabashed sort of grin that should have made her look childish. The smile only accentuated her fresh beauty, and Jed began to regret his decision. He had no time to change his mind for Caite had stuck out her hand to shake his.