Miss Phipps and the Cattle Baron (12 page)

Adam had never met a woman as completely
outspoken about her intimate desires as Priscilla, and he found it
both refreshing and arousing, the tightening in his breeches
reminding him that he would very much like to put that blush on her
face, right now, on the church grounds, with God as their witness.
That not being an option, he lifted his hand to her face and moved
toward her to give her a kiss. But before he could stop her, she
threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss so soundly on his
lips that he had to brace his legs to keep from falling backwards.
When he recovered his balance, he broke the kiss, and said, "Sweet
lady, your enthusiasm will be the death of me."

"And me," Priscilla said, in an eager voice.
"But I'm unable to curb it as you bring out a beast that dwells
inside me that I had not known existed before you awakened it."

Adam loved the way she met things head-on, no
beating around the bush. But there was one issue that troubled him
deeply. The matter of her virginity. She was ready to give it to
him, and he was certain she'd come to regret it because he didn't
see marriage in his future. Once out of the marriage contract with
Mary Kate Burns, he'd decided he needed a nanny for the children,
not a mother. And definitely not a wife. His one experience with
that honorable estate was enough to sour him on it permanently. Nor
could he see Priscilla filling the role of wife and mother, when
clearly
The Town Tattler
was her focus.

He took her by the shoulders, looked into her
eyes, and said, "About my taking your virtue, it's not something
you should—"

"Don't preach to me about my virtue, Adam.
I'm in no frame of mind to hear yet another sermon today. If you
don't wish to finish the job we started in the buggy I'll
understand and say no more about it. But if you are so inclined,
but feel reluctant to do what some might consider a dastardly deed
by taking an unmarried woman's virginity, then I want to assure you
that if you do, I'll treasure the memory of it for the rest of my
life. I only hope that if it's to be my first and last experience,
you'll make it worth my while. And I'll try to do the same for you,
inexperienced as I am. But I have a rather vivid imagination, and I
can think of several things I'd do that I believe you'd thoroughly
enjoy."

Adam attempted to set aside what those
things
might be, but the lustful images emerging in his
mind, accompanied by the uncomfortable straining in his trousers,
made it difficult, if not impossible, to stay on course. But he
could not allow Priscilla to think that whatever intimacy they
shared would lead to marriage. "If you give up your virginity to
me, it must be with the understanding that marriage would not
necessarily follow."

"Of course it would be with that
understanding," Priscilla clipped. "Just because I absconded with
your bride does not mean I expect to step into her shoes and take
her place. I'm reconciled to being a spinster, but I'm not
reconciled to never taking pleasure in the marital act. It must be
the ultimate gratification that a man and a woman can share. In the
buggy, when we were flesh to flesh, you gave me an idea of what to
expect, but it was cut short, and now the fulfillment of that
expectation is foremost on my mind." Her voice rose as she pressed
her point.

Adam looked around, wondering if anyone was
in hearing distance of their bizarre conversation. Priscilla was
not the kind of woman to seduce men, and he didn't want anyone
forming such an opinion. She was simply a woman eager to experience
the physical union of a man and a woman. Oddly, most women viewed
the marital act as a duty, not a pleasure, but she looked toward it
with eagerness. And it was her eagerness that found him considering
marriage again, even after rejecting it only moments before. It was
a sobering thought. But to have a woman rush into his arms out of
pure joy and kiss him like the end of the world was coming, and be
eager to warm his bed so she could do imaginative things for his
gratification, and challenge him with her wit, and her cleverness,
and her ingenuity... Life would never be lackluster...

Odd that the term lackluster came to mind.
Some might look at Priscilla and see just that, when in fact, she
was like a bright star shining just for him...

"Whatever are you finding so amusing?"
Priscilla asked.

Adam realized he was smiling. "You," he
replied. "You remind me of everything I ever heard about the queen.
The resolute way you looked when you confronted me about taking
your virginity. The commanding way you presented it. The
determination with which you intend to get your way. You are
beautiful and regal, Priscilla. Don't ever let anyone convince you
otherwise, least of all yourself." He took her by the arms and
pulled her toward him. "I'm going to kiss you now, then we're going
back to join the others before they come looking for us."

Adam locked his knees in anticipation of
Priscilla throwing her arms around him, and was surprised when she
resisted the pull of his hands, and instead, lifted a stubborn
chin, looked at him with uncompromising eyes, and said, "But, are
you going to kiss me because you know that's what I want, or
because you want to?"

Adam eyed her with wry amusement. She was the
most enchanting and exasperating women he'd ever met. "My kissing
you has nothing to do with what you want, pretty lady. I'm going to
kiss you because if I don't, I'll go mad from wanting to." Without
waiting for her response, he kissed her thoroughly. And she
returned the kiss, utterly and completely, her passionate response
accompanied by little plaintive moans of pleasure that brought Adam
to the brink of lowering her to the ground and lifting her skirts,
and doing precisely what she wanted him to do, because heaven
forbid, he wanted that too, more than he'd ever wanted it with any
other woman.

When they finally broke the kiss for air,
Adam tucked several stray curls back into the collection on top of
Priscilla's head, looked at her radiant face, and said, "You have a
blush now, and it's very flattering."

"But it's not permanent," Priscilla
contended, pressing her lips into an uncompromising line that had
Adam eager to change with another long, passionate kiss.

He smiled. "It will be in the very near
future," he said. "In fact, I guarantee it."

She lifted her chin. "I sincerely hope you're
right," she replied, "because if you are not, I'm apt to go mad."
She turned and sashayed toward the gathering.

Adam followed close behind, wondering how
this captivating fireball of a woman, who'd crawled under his skin
like a wood tick, had managed to bore her way into his heart, and
was on the verge of breaching his soul. Something no woman had ever
done.

***

While Edith, Mary Kate, Libby and Abigail set
up the benches and chairs for
the Town Tattler
meeting,
Priscilla read over her notes about the importance of voting, and
prepared for the barrage of questions that would follow her
presentation. She had invited women to submit poems and recipes and
short stories for possible publication in
The Town Tattler
,
and she expected to answer questions about those as well. Although
she tried to focus on how best to present the topics for
discussion, it was almost impossible to do so. All she could think
of was Adam, and the way his arms felt around her, with his mouth
covering hers, and the taste of his kiss lingering. But what held
her mind captive was the vivid image he'd painted by his last
words, just before he left for the ranch, four days before. Those
words had kept her in a state of restless longing...

He'd pulled her into his arms, kissed her
soundly, and said, "When I return, I intend to put that permanent
blush on your face, but it won't take place in a buggy, or on the
church grounds, or on a mattress pad in your building. It will be
in a bedroom suite with a bathtub where I will peel off all your
clothes, and mine, and immerse your beautiful naked body in warm
water so I can wash every inch of you, concentrating on those
places that make you sigh, and moan, and cry out with pleasure. And
when you're in a state of ecstasy, I'll wrap you in a towel and
carry your warm, naked body to bed, and we'll pick up where we left
off in the buggy. But we will proceed very slowly, applying a
little ointment to each other so you will be subjected to only the
greatest of pleasures when I penetrate your maidenhead, after which
you'll experience a state of pure rapture unlike anything you could
possibly conceive, even with your vivid imagination. And after I
have put that permanent blush on your face, I'll stretch out on the
bed, naked as a jaybird, so you can do to me, or with me, all the
naughty things your wicked mind has concocted."

With that, he kissed her, shoved his Stetson
on his head, launched himself onto his horse, and galloped off. And
Priscilla was certain she wore a permanent blush already, even
though the deflowering had not yet taken place. But it would,
tonight. Adam was to return this afternoon, but before he'd left
for the ranch, four days before, he'd made arrangements for the
family to go to the theater tonight, the servants to have the night
off, and the house to be theirs, alone. By tomorrow morning her
blush would be permanent and she would no longer be a virgin. It
seemed that anticipated state would never come...

"Miss Priscilla?" Trudy's voice coming from
behind made her jump with a start. She turned to find Trudy
standing in the doorway.

"Yes?"

Trudy's eyes brightened. "The women are all
gathering outside," she said. "There must be thirty or more."

Priscilla looked at Trudy, stunned. She had
expected, at best, a dozen. She went to the window and peered out
at the gathering. It only took a glance to see that they were the
wives of homesteaders. She recognized many from the wagon train,
but saw none that looked like cattlemen's wives—the ones with the
money to purchase subscriptions. But there was time. And once the
homesteaders saw the first issue of
The Town Tattler
, they'd
be eager to subscribe, even if it meant pooling their money.

"I guess we're ready," she said to Trudy.
"After I finish my presentation and open the floor to questions,
you can stand up and talk about your father and hand out your
leaflets."

Trudy's lips spread in a confident smile.
"You didn't say anything to Father about this before he left, did
you?" she asked. "I want it to be a surprise."

Priscilla shook her head. "No, I didn't say
anything." She felt her face grow hot. Her conversation with Adam
before he left was far removed from women's issues. At least
women's issues of a suffrage nature. The bathtub scene emerged in
her mind, and below her belly strange things started happening
again. She fanned her flaming hot face.

"Are you alright?" Trudy asked. "You're red
as a beet."

"Just nerves," she assured Trudy, then forced
her thoughts away from bathtubs filled with warm water, and large
male hands soaping private places, and Adam stretched out naked on
the bed, and her touching him and doing the naughty, indecent
things she'd fashioned in her mind...

"Miss Priscilla?"

Priscilla realized her eyes were closed and
her hands were pressed to her cheeks. "Oh, yes, the women," she
said, wondering what on earth Trudy must be thinking. But it was
almost impossible to keep her mind from straying to the titillating
realm Adam had described. Determined stay focused on issues
pertaining to the meeting, she swept open the door, and said to the
ladies gathered just beyond, "Welcome, ladies. Please come in and
have a seat, or at least find a place to stand. I had not expected
such an enthusiastic group. But I'm very pleased."

After the women filed in and took their
places, Priscilla addressed them with welcoming words, then gave a
recap of what
The Town Tattler
was all about. Holding up the
first issue as an example, she asked for anyone who had brought
poems or essays to step forward and give them to her. Several women
offered contributions, which Priscilla accepted with the promise
that she would read them and determine if they were right for
publication. When that idea was exhausted, a slender, pretty young
woman wearing a faded gingham dress stood. When the chatter died,
the young woman said, "Miss Phipps, I'm Josephine Hoffman. Me and
my husband James own Hoffman Groceries and Provisions over on Eddy
Street. James said to tell you that he wants to place an ad in your
paper."

Elated, Priscilla grinned at the young woman,
and replied, "Please tell your husband that I'm very pleased, and
that he can come here anytime and talk to me about what he has in
mind." She waited to see if others would want to follow Josephine's
cue, and when no one did, she began her presentation on
suffrage.

The women sat listening, eyes focused on her
as she gave a summary of the efforts of Elizabeth Cady Stanton and
Susan Anthony. When she'd finished her presentation, she looked
around at the staid faces, and said, "Mrs. Stanton and Miss Anthony
are not the only women fighting for our rights. How many of you
have heard of a woman from right here in Wyoming Territory named
Esther Hobart Morris?" Priscilla was met with blank stares.

Trudy raised her hand. "Miss Phipps?"

"Yes Trudy?"

"Wasn't she the woman who organized tea
parties to promote the idea of giving women the right to vote?"

"Yes," Priscilla replied. "I'm glad to see
you're interested in the suffrage movement. Can you tell these
women anything more about Mrs. Morris?"

Trudy smiled brightly. "Yes ma'am. Mrs.
Morris was the reason women have the right to vote here in Wyoming
Territory. That legislation also gave women the right to hold
public office, own land, and retain property from their husbands if
their husbands die," she added. "Governor Campbell signed it into
law in 1869, making Wyoming Territory's government the first in the
country to give women these rights."