M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga (6 page)

“Well, thank you for dinner,” Blake said lightly.

“I bet that was the first time someone invited you to eat with them then made you do the cooking and the washing up,” she laughed.

He chuckled. “I’d do it again.”

“Me, too.”

There was a brief lull in the conversation and Meredith wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“It was nice meeting you,” he began but she cut him off.

“Would you like to spend the night in the barn? The hayloft has a nice breeze at night if you keep the loft
doors open. I hate to think of you out there in the dark riding that beautiful horse and being waylaid by renegades.”

He stayed silent as he searched her face, trying to read any unspoken meaning into her words. Was she truly concerned for his safety or was she being polite or perhaps was she missing her husband and hoping for a quick encounter with a stranger who wouldn’t be around to remind her of her indiscretion.

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Please,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know how hard it would be to be alone at night. I hear every noise. It would be nice to know there is another human being nearby.”

Blake felt a sudden urge to protect her; to stand watch outside her door so she could get a good night’s sleep. She was so tiny; he suspected she would be no match for any man with ill intent, only the little hellion inside gave her a fighting chance.

“I’d like that.”

Meredith sighed and smiled widely with relief. Suddenly a bundle of energy, she grabbed two blankets out of a chest in the corner and led him out to the barn to get settled. Snatching a lantern off a bent nail inside the barn door and a Lucifer from the matchbox a foot away, Meredith lit the wick and placed the smoking match in a tin can on the floor directly below.

She placed the lantern in a bucket attached to a rope and pulley and hoisted the bucket to the level of the loft, anchoring it to a post.

“Papa nailed blocks inside the pail so the lantern can’t move but don’t ever leave it in the bucket because it could conceivably burn through the rope.”

She partially unfolded the blankets and tossed
them over one shoulder. “After you.”

Blake took the blankets from her and put them over his shoulder. “I imagine
, with the skirts, you have enough to contend with already.”

She glanced down involuntarily. “Not what I usually wear into the hayloft, I admit.”

Because she usually rode her horse before or after her chores, she normally wore her riding skirts which were about six inches shorter.

Blake clambered up easily and watched her intently as she picked her way up, alternately holding on with one hand while lifting her skirt and stepping to the next rung.

“Maybe I should carry you down afterwards,” he said when she finally made it to the summit.

“The problem coming down is my skirts hang on the rungs and I end up with half my leg showing.” She
blushed deeply realizing she shouldn’t say that the type of thing to a man she barely knew. Jeez, everything she thought
did
spew from her mouth.

“You say you want me to go down first?”

At her gasp, he smiled roguishly.

“I said no such thing!” she protested.

He laughed outright at her. She sounded like a virgin protecting her innocence not like the married hellion who suggested her horse would mount
him
given half the chance.

Blake removed the lantern from the bucket and she pointed out a nail he could hang it on. While she pitchforked hay into a thick bed for him, he retrieved his carpet bag from the workbench below where he had left it. By the time he’d returned, she had covered the hay with one of the blankets, attempting to contain it together by tucking the edges under in a makeshift
mattress.

She stood up and eyed her handiwork. It would’ve worked better if there were a large wooden frame to hold it together.

“Hopefully, if you don’t thrash around in your sleep overmuch, you’ll be able to keep from sinking to the boards.”

“It looks comfortable,” he said with hopeful uncertainty, in no hurry to get into it. “It’s still early and I have a deck of cards.”

“I’ve never played.”

“Never?”
His eyebrows shot up in a surprised countenance as he dug into the depths of his carpetbag.

She shook her head apologetically. “I would never gamble my horse either.”

His head jerked around to face her. “You think I would take a wager for your horse?”

“You took someone else’s horse,” she reminded him.

“Thaddeus could afford the loss and he knew what he was doing. I wouldn’t take advantage of a beginner. We can just use some sort of token like matches or buttons or pebbles.”

In a few minutes
, they were back at the kitchen table with a jar of buttons divided between them, the rules explained and a few practice hands between them.

“It seems strange to play without a drink or two in me.”

She grinned at him then retrieved a bottle of whiskey and
two
glasses.

“I might as well add two new vices to my repertoire.”

“Am I such a bad influence?”

She eyed him through her lashes as she poured the amber liquid into a glass. “I don’t really need much encouragement. You know what they say about when the cat’s away.”

Blake felt a bit sorry for her husband and wondered if the man knew she ran about unchecked during his absence.

He suddenly realized she’d nearly filled the first glass. “Whoa, that’s way too much.” He took the bottle from her and dribbled half the liquid back into the neck of the bottle then split the remainder between the two glasses. “A little goes a long way unless you want to revisit your dinner.”

She sniffed at the glass he handed her.

“This smells terrible.”

“Good, don’t drink it.”

With a look of defiance, she quaffed the contents in two large gulps and gasped as her throat constricted and her breath seemed to disappear. “Dear heavens, I think it’s gone bad,” she rasped when she regained her voice.

With a chuckle, he sniffed it then took a swallow. “No, that’s the way it’s supposed to taste.”

“Surely not.
Why would anyone drink that? It’s worse than pond water.”

             
“I don’t know that anyone really drinks for the taste,” he said shuffling the cards expertly and dealing them. “Ante up.”

Meredith put in a button and picked up her cards. “Then why drink it?”

Blake shook his head as he picked up his hand. “As much as you just drank, you’re going to know soon enough.”

Meredith looked at the
hand he dealt her and smiled as she placed them into some semblance of order.

Sighing, he leaned his elbows on the table. “If you smile when you have a good hand, I’ll know not to bet against you.”

“Oh,” she said trying to tamp down her grin.

Meredith, sitting catty-corner to him, made an obvious attempt to look at his cards.

“I’ll take two,” she said when he pulled his cards away.

She set down the cards she didn’t want and picked up the new ones. She frowned and picked up her discarded cards.

“You can’t do that,” he said thinking she didn’t understand the rules.

“I think it’s only fair if I cheat,” she said smiling
impishly at him. “You’ve probably played your whole life and this is my first time – that’s hardly fair. I’m just evening up the odds.”

Blake sipped at his whiskey as mulled over her request. It went completely against his nature to give her an advantage even if it was her first time and they were only playing for buttons.

“No,” he said.

Her bottom lip trembled out into a pout and she looked at him with wide doe eyes. “Please?”

“Criminy! If you keep that up, losing a card game will be the least of your troubles.”

Meredith set her cards down and crossed her arms. “Did I not mention that I’m spoiled and I’m accustomed to getting my way?”

He set down his cards and leaned towards her. “So am I.”

She batted her eyes at him. “I’m told I’m adorable when I pout.”

Blake understood the way this game worked. He had long ago mastered the art of flirtation.  He doubted any woman was born without the ability to manipulate men with a pout or a seductive smile.

“You’re adorable when you’re not pouting, too,” he bantered, his eyes locking onto hers with a smoldering look.

She fought the urge to smile. “No one can resist the power of the lip,” she said jutting her lower lip out again, tilting her head down and widening her eyes.

Her pouty lower lip made him want to have his way with her more than it made him want to give her
her way. All he could see were those kissable lips. Criminy, he just wanted to taste her and find out if she was a hellion in bed.

“Is it working? Am I breaking your resolve?” she asked prettily.

“Depends what resolve you want to break. That is indeed a powerful and dangerous weapon and if you don’t put it away, I’m going to kiss it away.”

Even with her lip out, she smirked. “You’re going to give in. No one can resist for long.”

Blake put his hands flat on the table and pushed himself up, leaning in towards her. “You’re right. I can’t resist.”

With their eyes locked, he lightly bit her lip. Closing his eyes, he pressed his mouth to hers.

“And here I thought I was going to take a break from women,” he murmured as he pulled away.

Her eyes fluttered open. He noted the heightened color in her cheeks as she unabashedly stared at him, her eyes full of unspoken question.

“What would your husband say?”

“What husband?”

Blake had slept with enough unhappily married women to know those were nearly always the words they spoke just before they gave themselves to him, as if the words spoken aloud somehow made their marriage vows nonexistent.

Blake suddenly stood fully, gathering his cards and pushing the buttons into one pile. Meredith rose to her feet.

“We’re finished playing?”

“We’re finished playing. Don’t you think it’s time for me to go out to the barn?”

She took the lid off the button jar, scooped up the buttons and put them back into the jar.

“Good night,” he said putting the cards in the
pocket of his jacket.

Meredith nodded too stunned to speak but before he could leave she raced around him and blocked the open doorway.

4

“You can’t leave yet.”

              Standing smolderingly close her, he braced his arm on the doorframe and leaned forward until his face loomed only inches from hers. Her breath came quickly but caught in her throat as his tongue darted from his mouth to moisten his full lips.

“Why not?”
His voice sounded low, husky.

Sudden panic gripped her with near tangible strength and Meredith searched the room with her eyes for an excuse for her embarrassing behavior. Her eyes fell on the lantern across the room.
“Because you’ll never find your way to the loft without light.”

“Isn’t there a lantern on a nail just inside the barn door?”

“So there is,” she said with a nervous titter and pressed herself against one side of the doorway so he could pass.  “Good night, Blake.”

His head cocked to one side, his eyes gleaming with unmistakable intent. She was about to be kissed again.

A strange excitement rose in Meredith with anticipation which turned to apprehension as his head came closer. His lips lowered onto hers, lightly teasing, testing. Her eyes closed involuntarily as she became more aware of the subtle movement of his lips caressing hers. One hand slid up her back soon followed by the other as he pulled her closer, his kiss becoming harder, more demanding. Her neck stretched toward him, her arms extended around him, her body straining against his. She was kissing him back. He parted her lips and his tongue ravaged her mouth. Lost to the sensation, she was surprised her when she heard a husky moan rise from her throat.

Blake chuckled softly but she hardly noticed.

His lips moved to her earlobe. “This is highly improper, you know,” he breathed against her ear.

“It doesn’t feel that way,” she murmured. Threading her fingers through his soft, thick hair, she turned his face back to hers. “I….”

His mouth covered hers stifling her sentence in an embrace that was gentle yet demanding and persistent. Her lips parted under his allowing entry to his probing, ravaging tongue. Her back arched. She could feel the length of his lean body firmly against hers. Her mind swept away in a fog, blind to everything but the wondrous sensations his kiss yielded. His hands languorously travelled up her back, into her hair removing the pins and allowing her strawberry blonde tresses to fall about her back and shoulders. Gently, he stroked the soft bouncing hair, feeling its silky texture between his fingers before he pulled it over one shoulder and began planting tiny kisses along the exposed part of her shoulder and throat then back to her mouth.