Guardian Bride (22 page)
people, and an extreme amount of help. They were all witty
and smart...but there was something about Lila...She was
beautiful, and nice, and caring.
Summer paused near the trunks. She couldn't put her
finger on what it was about Lila that was odd, and no one had
said anything. At first she thought maybe Lila was from
England or somewhere outside the United States, since her
behaviors and mannerisms were so unique, but she'd learned
Skeeter's wife had been born and raised in Kansas.
Shaking her head to send the thoughts away, she knelt
and unhooked the heavy brass latch of the first trunk. She
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had enough of her own worries; taking on another set was
the last thing she needed.
The hinges creaked, rust fighting against her as the lid
lifted. Careful of the worn, old metal, she eased the brace bar
up and used it to prop the lid open. Moving aside a stack of
old papers, looking for the small box Ma described, her
fingers stalled.
She slipped the rest of a wooden frame out from under the
papers. The breath she held pressed against her lungs. As it
eased out, she wiped a hand over the glass covering the
picture. With a casual grin, Jonas stared at her. Her finger
stopped near the top of his head. Ma, young and pretty, stood
beside him with a serious look on her face. All five Quinter
brothers were also in the picture. Kid, looking much younger,
stood on Jonas's other side. Skeeter wasn't even as tall as
Ma. He, Hog, Snake, and Bug stood in front with skepticism
tugging on their brows. Bug couldn't have been but three or
four years old.
Her gaze locked on Snake. A rapid pitter-patter filled her
chest and something deep in her stomach swirled. Even then,
with his hair flat against his head and dark instead of golden,
he was by far the most handsome of the brothers. A flutter of
happiness tugged on her lips.
When Skeeter and Hog, along with their wives and
Skeeter's children, had arrived by wagon a few days after the
fire, the reunion of brothers had been a festive event despite
the reason behind it. The five men reminded her of a batch of
puppies the way they greeted one another with playful
punches before they hugged one another. There hadn't been
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any embarrassment amongst the men and their joy at seeing
each other.
Her gaze went back to Jonas's image. "Is this what you
wanted?" she whispered. "A family reunion?" Closing her eyes
she stilled her mind, making space for Jonas to visit. After
several empty minutes, a warming sensation climbed her
spine.
She sighed. "Where have you been?"
"Right here."
An explosion happened inside her, like a flock of birds
taking flight. Her eyes snapped open as she twisted around.
His stroll across the straw included a stiffness in one leg. It
was slight, but she recognized it, and gloom swallowed her
again. She'd damaged this family in so many ways. Snake
lowered to his knees beside her, and his gaze went to her
hands.
Summer thought about stuffing the picture back under the
newspapers, but it was too late, his fingers had already
wrapped around the edges.
"I'd forgotten about this picture." A wide grin covered his
face as he slipped the frame from her fingers. "Ma must have
used a gallon of grease to flatten all of our hair. Except for
Kid, he refused and she didn't force it on him. Pa was leading
a buffalo hunt for some Prince from overseas. A man with a
camera followed them around like a whipped pup."
He grew silent as he stared at the picture. Summer buried
her fingers in her skirt to hide the way they trembled. The
silence built until she felt swollen and stretched.
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"Good thing it was here in the barn so it didn't get burnt."
Before the final word left her mouth, she bowed her head.
She might as well just shoot him again. Reminding him of all
the troubles she'd caused had to have the same effect.
"Yeah, that was a good thing," he said. "What are you
doing up here?"
She glanced up, worried he thought she was snooping. "Ma
needs another thimble."
Chuckling, he replaced the picture in the trunk. "I should
have known. Have you found one?"
She shook her head. It was all she could do. For the past
few weeks, ever since that night in his tent when he asked
her if it was all right that Ma lived with them, she'd been
avoiding him. Actually, it had been easy, since the next day a
man arrived from Dodge to buy the wheat they'd harvested.
The following week he'd spent his time between cleaning up
the burnt homestead and overseeing the wagons hauling the
wheat from the granary several miles away. He'd bandaged
his injuries himself since then, and the loss of that connection
with him left her starving to touch him. His closeness right
now had her screaming with need.
"I'll help you look," he offered, twisting to lift the lid of the
next trunk.
Summer dug her hands below the picture, grateful to give
them something to do. "Ma says it's in a small metal box."
"I remember it." He rustled through the contents of his
trunk. "Ma packed all this up right after Pa died. I think she
just couldn't look at it. His death was hard on all of us. I know
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now if Ma hadn't been as tough and strong as she is, she
wouldn't have survived."
Her eyes stung as if her tears were made of real flames.
She fought to keep the droplets behind her eyes.
"There it is." His hands brushed over hers. He lifted a box
out of her trunk. "Good thing it didn't have teeth," he said
teasingly, "or it would have bitten you."
She hiccupped.
He set the box down and then closed both trunk lids. The
click of the last latch hung in the air. She should pick up the
box and run as fast as possible, give the thimble to Ma, and
find something else to do. Anything besides sitting here next
to him.
Summer tried, but the tug to glance his way was too
strong. Sitting cross-legged, his arms were folded across his
chest. His fingers drummed on his opposite elbows.
"Are you ready to talk to me?" he asked.
She almost swallowed her tongue.
"You can't ignore me forever."
Dry mouthed and sweating, she shook her head. "I—" she
swallowed again. "I'm not ignoring you."
"Like hell you aren't." His words were harsh, but his gaze
was soft, concerned.
"I—" She let the gust of air out of her lungs, unable to
deny the truth.
He took one of her hands. "I'm sorry, Summer. I shouldn't
have gotten so carried away that night. I shouldn't have
pulled you onto the bed and manhandled you like I did that
night after the fire."
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Heat swirled her insides. The remembrance of lying atop
him and his hands caressing her bottom, pressing her against
his hard, heated body filled her senses until she started to
tremble.
He wrapped her hand with both of his. "I didn't mean to
frighten you. I won't do it again."
Fear of never being kissed or touched by him raced in her
veins. "I wasn't frightened," she blurted.
He lifted a hand to cup the side of her neck. "Well, then, I
didn't mean to rush you. We'll take it slow. One day at a
time."
His thumb slid back and forth along the side of her jaw.
The touch turned her body into warm candle wax. "I wasn't
rushed," she managed to whisper.
"You weren't?"
She bit her bottom lip, shaking her head.
"Then what's wrong, sweetheart? Talk to me." His eyes
pleaded, and he renewed his caress of her face. "I've missed
you sitting on the edge of my bed, whispering in the dark."
His face inched closer to hers. "Kissing you."
An eruption of sorts happened in her insides. With a tiny
squelch, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed
her lips to his with all the grace of a wingless bird attempting
to fly. His reaction was as hot and hungry as hers, and within
a matter of seconds they were gasping bits of air in between
open mouth, deep consuming mergers.
She'd missed him, too. The absence of the light of hope
and happiness his touch filled her with had allowed the
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menacing gloom of July's actions to take over and leave her
drowning in the quicksand filling her insides.
Snake pulled her, laying them both down on the carpet of
straw covering the floor. She melted against him, her curves
fitting flawlessly with his. She dug the fingers of one hand
deep into his hair, while the other knotted the material of his
shirt against her palm, holding on and half afraid he'd let go.
His arm around her tightened, while his other hand roamed
her from hip to shoulder. She arched her back, pressing
firmly into his chest. His palm molded over one of her
breasts. The fiery pleasure made her moan and arch her
back.
His lips left hers and created a route down her neck and
then back up to her ear. She wished time would stop, so she
could stay right here, enjoying his touch forever. He nibbled
on her earlobe before kissing her cheek. She twisted and took
his mouth in hers, again, unable to restrain the desire
swelling her insides.
"Sheesh! You two are kissing, too!"
August's shout was like a cold shower. Summer pulled her
mouth, wet and throbbing, from Snake's. Her breast begged
his hand slipping away to come back. Gathering her wits, she
sat up, brushing at the hay clinging to her blouse.
Climbing off the ladder and onto the loft floor, August
continued, "Everywhere I go folks are kissing. Uncle Kid and
Aunt Jessie. Uncle Skeeter and Aunt Lila. Uncle Hog and Aunt
Randi. Sheesh! A man can't get away from it."
"What you need, buddy?" Snake asked, chuckling and
sitting beside her.
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"Grandma sent me up to help Summer find a thimble. Aunt
Lila's bleeding from the needle again, and Uncle Skeeter is
kissing her boo-boos."
Snake lifted the little box next to his knee and held it out
to August, who was kicking up straw dust as he walked.
"Here, take this to Ma."
"I sure hope Skeeter's done kissing her fingers," August
said quite disgustedly.
It wasn't until August's blond curls disappeared through
the square opening in the floor that Summer grew coherent
enough to attempt to push off the floor. Snake's arms
wrapped around her. "Where do you think you're going?"
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"I—" Summer started, squirming against his hold.
Snake merely increased it. A tremendous ache claimed his
body, one that had nothing to do with his past injuries. The
want of laying her back down on the straw and claiming her—
body and soul—was a bitter sweet pain.
He reached up, intending to gently brush the hair from the
side of her face, but the opportunity was too rare. He kissed
her again. Serenely this time. Her lips quivered beneath his,
and he pulled back while he still could.
"Why have you been ignoring me?"
She averted her eyes, gazing across the hayloft with an
empty stare. Dust motes danced a lively tune in the sunlight.
Far off, the pounding of hammers and muted voices hung just
as delicately in the air. His insides churned. Helplessness was
not something he regularly felt, therefore dealing with it was
foreign.
He tugged her chin until their eyes met. "I can't help if I
don't know what's wrong."
A heavy sigh made her shoulder's droop. Her slight weight
seemed to increase and he shifted, pulling her onto his lap
and gladly accepting the burden.
"Nothing's wrong." She squirmed again. "You're leg must
be hurting."
"No." He wasn't about to release her so easily. "My leg is
just fine. So is my shoulder. The only thing that's not fine is
us." Brushing the long strands of shimmering hair off her
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shoulder, he continued, "I know it's hard, staying in the tents,
and I know my family can be a little overwhelming, but I
promise it won't be forever."
She slumped against him, as if her resolve deflated. "I've
lived in worse," she said, "much worse."
He eased his hold so she could more comfortably lay her
head on his shoulder. Brushing his lips over the top of her
head, he offered, "The house should be done in a week or so.
Maybe sooner."
"Why do you have to be so nice?"
He frowned at how hopeless she sounded. Kissing her hair