Miss Phipps and the Cattle Baron (7 page)

"I've spent little time around children,"
Priscilla said. "I don't see how I could advise your daughter,
especially about staying chaste. I don't mean to imply that I've
been unchaste, but it has not been difficult for me to remain
virtuous because there have been no temptations. But your daughter
lives in a different world from the one in which I was raised. I'm
sure she's a pretty young woman, who attracts handsome young men,
something I never had to contend with."

Adam studied Priscilla's wistful face. Odd
that men didn't gravitate toward her. But he was about to change
that. "Well, Miss Priscilla Phipps," he said, "you'll be contending
with me now." He reached out and stroked her cheek. "I hope you
won't take offense when I tell you that I miss your appealing
little freckles, and your tangled red hair, and your long golden
lashes, because that's who you are, and that was what attracted me
to you. And I am going to kiss you now." He leaned over, took her
by the arms and pressed his lips to hers. For a few moments she
didn't respond, but when he opened his eyes and saw her looking at
him, he broke the kiss momentarily, and said, "Priscilla, close
your eyes."

She did, and the next moment her arms were
around his neck, her lips parted, and she made no attempt to stop
him when his tongue slid into her mouth to taste and tease. Before
long, her tongue began to shyly explore his, gradually becoming
bolder, until she was matching the rhythm of his thrusts with an
eagerness that took him by surprise. Somehow she'd moved onto his
lap, and her arms tightened around him, and her mouth became more
demanding, and before he could catch himself, she'd hurled herself
against him, tumbling him backwards and landing on top of him,
until the full length of her was stretched over the full length of
him.

Her eager kiss and warm womanly body sprawled
atop him clouded his senses. He cupped his hands over her
nicely-rounded bottom and pushed her intimately to him, and she
pressed her breasts against his chest and deepened the kiss. Her
passionate response was almost his undoing. Only the sound of
voices in the distance brought him back to his senses. Breaking the
kiss, he raised himself to sit up, taking her with him.

Once upright, her eyes popped open in
surprise.
"Oh, my word!"
she exclaimed. Untangling her arms
from around him, she shifted off his lap and rested on one hip
again, tucking her booted feet demurely beneath her. "That has
never happened to me before," she said, fanning her face with her
hand. "I don't know what came over me."

"I assure you, you were not the only one
affected by that kiss." Adam glanced around to see if anyone had
been watching. Relieved, he said, "We'd better reel ourselves in or
your virtue is sure to be questioned." When he turned back, her
fingers were pressed against her lips. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She shook her head. But her eyes held a new
light, one he recognized as passion. "No, I'm find," she said, her
voice catching with her labored breaths. "Just a little winded. I
don't know why this has been happening of late. It's like my lungs
collapse and have to be refilled. It must be the high plains air.
It wasn't dry like this in Missouri."

Adam looked around again, and when he was
certain no one was watching, he leaned toward her and kissed the
side of her neck and beneath her ear, and said softly, "It's not
the high plains air, sweet lady, it's the fact that you have a very
passionate nature that has been bottled up." He pecked at her
bottom lip, which was protruding with puzzlement, and added, "And I
am honored to be the one to uncork the bottle."

She patted her chest. "I would never have
imagined I had a passionate nature," she said, "but clearly you
uncorked something." When she looked at him, he thought he'd never
seen eyes so alive with the joy of discovery. And there was so much
more he wanted her to discover about herself. As long as he was the
one to lead the expedition.

Oddly, the thought of being the first man in
her life was more arousing than anything he'd experienced. Just
about any attractive female could arouse any normal male to some
extent. But what happened when he was around Priscilla went far
beyond an awareness of an uncomfortably hardened male member and
the need to alleviate the discomfort. It moved upward from there to
squeeze his chest, and twist around his heart, and addle his brain,
and make him want to wrap himself around Priscilla and bond with
her, body and soul, until neither of them could breathe...

"You have such a strange look in your eyes,"
Priscilla said, shattering an image of passionate lovemaking. "What
are you thinking about?"

Adam curved a hand behind her neck and drew
her towards him. "I was wondering if I was the first to kiss you?
I'd like to think I was." He closed his lips around her
earlobe.

Priscilla let out a little moan of pleasure
when he began sucking and said, between labored breaths, "Well,
actually no. You were not the first. Umm... I like that," she
added, when he traced the inner chambers of her ear with the tip of
his tongue.

Adam couldn't help the disappointment that
gripped him, ludicrous as it was, that Priscilla had been kissed
before. He also knew they were being foolish, dallying where others
could see them, should anyone venture from the gathering and walk
around the side of the church. He stopped his sensual assail and
put a little space between them, and said, "Then tell me about this
man who came before me."

Priscilla straightened her back and braced
her hand against the blanket. Devilment in her eyes, she said, "His
name was Kenny, and he kissed me under the cake table at my seventh
birthday party, and I kissed him back. My father saw it happen, and
after the party was over, he took a willow stick to me, which I
suppose was good. I never let a boy kiss me after that. And when I
got older, none ever tried again."

"Well, this boy intends to try again. You can
count on that."

When Adam reached for her, Priscilla shoved a
dish into his hand, and said, "I think it's time to turn our
attention to the food." She put two pastry sandwiches on the plate
and added cucumber slices, tomato wedges and a spoonful of bean
salad. "I apologize for my impious behavior, especially here on the
church grounds. It's obvious I should not be the one to advise your
daughter about chastity, as it seems my own virtue is in
question."

"Your virtue is not in question," Adam said.
"You're a woman still innocent of a woman's need. Men are not the
only ones to seek fulfillment. A woman's need can be strong too.
For now, however, let's eat what you've brought, and you can tell
me about your newspaper. Since I can't convince you to find work
more suitable for a woman, I'd like to hear what you have
planned."

Priscilla's face brightened. While preparing
a plate for herself, she said, in an animated voice, "
The Town
Tattler
will be a singlesheet newspaper at first, which will be
printed on Readyprint, so I won't have to worry about ads or
printing on the reverse side. But as soon as I have enough
advertisers to fill half the back side, I'll dispense with the
Readyprint ads and fill the rest of the page with copy. The paper
will cover topics that appeal to women: society news, recipes,
advice to the lovelorn, a continuing romantic story, and a gossip
column and bulletin where women can air personal grievances. I'll
solicit women writers for essays and editorials, and if they submit
a piece suitable for publication, I'll include it. I won't be able
to pay them, but they should find satisfaction in seeing their work
in print. And they will not be forced to take a man's name in order
to be recognized. They'll be allowed to publish under their own
names."

As she expanded on her ideas, Adam saw the
fervor in Priscilla's eyes. He'd seen that look in a woman's eyes
before, and there was no stopping them. But he was not looking to
marry Priscilla, only to install her in his house to monitor his
children.

When she'd finished her spiel about her
paper, she nibbled the crust of a fruit tart, chewed thoughtfully,
and said, "I plan to pull the first edition at the beginning of
next week and post it at the town hall for everyone to see. In the
meantime, my ladies are learning to set type." She clasped her
hands together, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and said in an
animated voice, "I can hardly believe
The Town Tattler
is
about to become a reality."

Adam fought the urge to funnel all that
passion into another kiss. From now on, he'd kiss her only in
private, where she would be free to unleash her passionate
nature.

After they finished eating, Adam reclined on
the blanket with his legs stretched out and his upper body propped
against his elbow and studied Priscilla's face. She had nibbled
away the reddening on her lips while eating, the golden tips of her
eyelashes were peeking through the sooty dust that had been there,
and her freckles were beginning to emerge through the powder on her
face. And he liked what he saw. In fact, he wanted to scrub off all
that stuff and see the fresh, pretty woman she was. He hadn't
realized it until now, but she was pretty, with a straight nose,
firm chin, and luminous eyes as changeable as the clouds. And when
she talked, her lips were a marvel to observe, tipping up in
amusement at one moment, flattening with consternation the next.
And there were those moments like now, when they parted and she ran
her tongue over them, leaving a trail of moisture... when he could
barely suppress the desire to kiss her again...

"Adam?" she said, anxious eyes, pure green
with the reflection from her dress and the greenery around them.
"What happened to your wife?"

Adam stiffened. The last person he wanted to
talk about was Rachael. Even the thought of her left a bitter taste
in his mouth. "She left me shortly after we arrived in Cheyenne.
She's in New York pursuing a stage career. She's not part of our
lives."

"Was she pretty?" Priscilla asked.

"She was a beautiful and cunning bitch."

"Oh." After a few moments of thoughtful
silence, Priscilla said, "Do you still want to move me into your
house?"

The way she was looking at him, eyes wide
with expectation, lips parted in anticipation, Adam wanted to move
her into his bed. A patently stupid idea. "Yes," he replied. "It
would give me peace of mind, knowing Trudy was away from that young
buck, Tom Rafferty. I have a housekeeper to handle the staff, so
your only duty would be to keep a watchful eye on my children. I'd
stay there a few nights a week at first to make sure things were
running smoothly."

"I think I'd like that." Priscilla stared at
him, a frown gathering on her brow as if reconsidering, and said,
"But if I need to work late to get the paper out, could the
children come with me, maybe help around the place? I could even
pay them some."

Adam had not considered that. But it would
keep Trudy occupied. All Alice needed was a place to curl up so she
could read her books, and Weldon could be Priscilla's printer's
devil. "An excellent idea," he said, "But I'll take care of paying
them as part of our arrangement. When would you be ready to move
in?"

"In about a week," Priscilla replied. "That's
when the women will be moving into the boarding house." She smiled
her beautiful smile, and a small dimple that Adam had not noticed
emerged in one cheek. "I only have a couple of trunks and a few
valises, which my pressman can load onto my buckboard and unload
when we get to your house."

"Your pressman," Adam said, contemplatively.
"Where is he staying?"

"Jim fixed up the storage shed behind my
building," Priscilla replied. "It's freshly painted, curtains on
the windows, a stove for heating and cooking. He's comfortable, and
very adaptable."

As Adam looked at Priscilla's animated face
and sparkling eyes, a feeling of uneasiness crept over him. Moving
her into his house could have serious ramifications. He'd be
installing her there for the purpose of monitoring the children,
especially Trudy, while impressing on them the importance of
maintaining good virtue. But whenever he was around Priscilla, he
had trouble controlling his own actions. The desire to touch her
and kiss her and caress her was becoming a problem. And from
Priscilla's reaction to his kiss, she had little, if any, self
control at all.

He was undecided whether her enthusiastic
response to his kisses and caresses was because she was a virgin
still untouched, who became overwhelmed by a man's embrace, or
because he brought out the basic, unrestrained animal instincts of
the passionate woman she was. All he knew was, during those times
when he'd be staying overnight at his house on 17th Street, he'd
have to maintain a respectable distance from Miss Priscilla Phipps,
or he could not predict his own actions. Or hers.

***

In the short time she'd been in Cheyenne,
Priscilla learned that the newspapers in the area were sharply
divided in their positions on the direction of the Wyoming
frontier. Newspapers supporting the cattle industry wrote scathing
editorials railing against the homesteaders who were coming in
droves to the high plains, claiming parcels of land, fencing off
valuable grazing land, and cutting off established routes needed
for driving herds of cattle for shipment by rail to the east.
Cattle rustling was also rampant, so the cattlemen claimed.
Newspapers supporting the homesteaders wrote caustic editorials
demonizing the tyrannical cattle barons, who were threatening
farmers and homesteaders in an effort to force them off their
claims.

There was no question that incidents had
taken place, but those in support of the cattlemen insisted that
what was in the editorial attacks had been fabrication. The issue
was heating up, and many were predicting that there could be an all
out war between cattlemen on one side, and farmers and homesteaders
on the other.