Mail-Order Groom (15 page)

Unable to resist, she glanced down. Adam's trousers were distended to an impressive degree. Even in the lamplight, she could tell that such a reaction could not be comfortable.

“You should take off your clothes,” she decided. “Mine are already gone, mostly. And yours look…restrictive. Please.”

“I will. But first…” With a brush of his fingers, Adam lowered her chemise strap from her shoulder. Then he closed the short distance between them. “You should be properly undressed.”

“Properly?” Drat. Another thing she didn't know about this marriage business. “Meaning…what, exactly?”

“Meaning undressed by me,” Adam specified. “Meaning that I'll remove your clothing one item at a time—”

“That doesn't sound particularly proper.” Still fascinated
by his masculine…
endowments
…Savannah dipped her gaze to the front of his trousers again. “But if you say so, I suppose I—”

“—and kissing every inch of you that I reveal,” he finished. “Slowly, gently, and tenderly.” His wolfish expression promised that he meant to keep his word as strictly and as thoroughly as possible. When she looked at him, doubtless agog at the notion, he only shrugged. “You didn't let me finish.”

“But when will
you
undress? I'm worried about your—”

“Soon,” he said, and began with unlacing her bustle.

As he'd promised, Adam performed his undressing duties with plenty of kisses—kisses, caresses, and more than a few murmured compliments, too…everyplace he could reach. By the time her last lace-trimmed petticoat joined the pile of cast-off clothing on the settee, Savannah felt positively weak in the knees.

Standing only in her chemise and drawers, she decided now was the time to draw the line—else lose her wifely authority altogether. “Your turn,” she said as Adam faced her.

“Soon,” he said. But she was unbending.

“I do know a little about what's supposed to happen between us tonight,” Savannah said. “And I know we'll both need to be naked. This situation as it stands is simply inequitable. So go ahead. Take off your…” She let her gaze rove over him, taking in his tousled hair, sturdy jaw, broad chest and narrow hips. With effort, she moved her attention from the region of his trousers. “Shirt,” she finished with a wave. “If you please.”

To her surprise, Adam raised his arms, bent his elbows, then whipped off his white cotton shirt in a single swift motion. His disrobing revealed his brawny, hair-sprinkled
chest, his assortment of enthralling muscles, and his tightly wrapped bandages. Staring at them, Savannah was reminded of what they were here to accomplish tonight: consummating their marriage.

She couldn't afford to waste any more time, lest Adam became skittish again, the way he had outside her room.

“Well done.” She swirled her fingers in a signal for him to turn around. “Now if you'll just face the wall, please?”

The moment he did, Savannah efficiently shed her own remaining garments in record time. She dived for the bedstead, scrambled to overturn the coverlet, then made a mad lunge beneath the sheets. The mattress creaked beneath her weight.

Adam turned partway. “Is everything all right?”

“It's fine.” Lying rigidly in place, Savannah straightened her arms alongside her body. But that didn't feel quite correct. She tried crossing her arms over her chest. But that felt even more peculiar. Oh
what
was the protocol for a situation like this one? Never had she yearned more for a sneak peek at her handbook. She could not afford for Adam to be disappointed in her or her first wifely performance. She inhaled. “I'm ready.”

Eagerly Adam turned. His puzzled gaze swept over her, took in the chemise and drawers she'd dropped in her haste, then lifted to her face. His expression changed. “You look…”

Beautiful. Irresistible,
Savannah imagined. “Yes?”

“…terrified.”

“Oh.”
Not irresistible
. She'd failed. Disappointment assailed her. “I'm so sorry. I'll try to do better.”

With three big steps, Adam reached the bed. Before she could say another word, he lowered his trousers. Shockingly naked, he flipped back the coverlet, then got in bed beside her.

She only had a brief glimpse of his naked form, but based on that hasty view, Savannah found him to be…
intriguing
to look at. Squirming with a combination of nervousness and timidity, acutely aware of her own lack of expertise in this situation, she nudged herself sideways, trying to make room.

“Stop. I want you nearer, not farther. And don't be afraid.” Adam smiled, then touched her hair. He curled a tendril around his finger, seeming as relaxed as a man could be. “We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Savannah.”

“I'm not worried about doing it.” She swallowed hard, then shifted her gaze to him. “I'm worried about doing it properly.”

After all, her entire future—the happy marriage and cozy, joyful home full of children that she dreamed of—depended on it. That potential future was so close she could feel it. But her dreams of starting over had been snatched from her grasp before. They might be again, if she didn't proceed correctly.

For a long moment, Adam only looked at her, his expression intent and kind…and uncomfortably perceptive. Then he nodded. “In my eyes, you can do nothing wrong. Not here or ever. There's nothing you could do that would upset me or drive me away—”

Guiltily she shifted, knowing full well there was at least
one
thing about her that would drive away any decent man who'd been allowed the foresight to know it: her scandalous past.

“—including,” Adam promised with an unusually vulnerable expression, “whatever happens between us in this bed tonight.”

“Well…” Tentatively Savannah glanced at him. “Could
it please involve some kissing? That
special
kind of kissing?”

She thought that would likely relax her. Possibly it might even ease the throbbing that had taken up residence inside her like an insistent heartbeat, demanding…something. Something she knew Adam could probably give her, if he tried.

Now, he only smiled. “You're a bossy wife, aren't you?”

On the verge of apologizing for that, Savannah made herself stop. It was, quite possibly, the only time she had allowed herself to behave naturally in the past year, without guidance from her etiquette books or help from Mose or anything else. Stripped of the security those things offered and, quite literally, bare to Adam's view, she nodded. “Yes. I guess I am.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to disapprove—to glimpse in her some part of that tarnished background she so wanted to leave behind. Fearful yet defiant, Savannah stilled.

Adam laughed. “I like that about you. Be sure to keep it up,” he said, “and let me know if I displease you.”

But there was no need for that, Savannah discovered as her new husband rolled over and took her into his arms, as easily and freely as though he'd been doing so for years. Because as Adam showed her all the ways that she could love and be loved—as he covered her with his body and brought her to new realms of pleasure she'd never even imagined before—Savannah could find nothing at all to be bossy about. Beneath Adam's tender gaze and patient hands, she learned about a part of herself that was both generous and greedy, loving and demanding. She learned that love could be naked and serious. Or it could be lighthearted and intense. It could be everything she'd ever dreamed.

She also learned, as Adam raised himself over her, finally making their union complete with a hoarse shout of her name, that the only thing to fear about giving herself to her husband was the inevitable aftermath. Because not long after their first encounter was over, she wanted to experience even more.

Cradled in Adam's arms, feeling his heartbeat thunder beneath her cheek, Savannah dared to smile. Tonight, her heart had opened to Adam in a whole new way—and his had opened to her.

From now on, nothing would ever be the same between them.

“You know,” she said as she lay her hand on his chest, entirely comfortable now with touching him, “I do believe we could get even better at these romantic endeavors.”

Adam panted. “Better?” he asked, his tone disbelieving.

“With a little practice, I mean,” Savannah clarified. “I realize I'm new at this. However, I've always ascribed to the view that practice makes perfect, so…”

“So you want more?”

Would that be horribly greedy?
it occurred to Savannah to ask. Or
only if you do!
A polite reply would probably be appropriate, she knew. But then she remembered that she no longer needed to be on her best, most gracious behavior at all times. Not with Adam. The realization was liberating.

“Yes. I think I might want more and more and more!” Enthusiastically she wriggled her backside. The movement made Adam groan. “So prepare yourself, husband. I've already warned you that I can be
very
diligent in pursuit of a goal, so—”

But Adam cut off her words with another kiss, then slid down her body with a devilish grin. “I think I can oblige you, wife.” With his hands on her hips, he lowered his head,
then gave her his most scandalous kiss yet. “You'd better hold on.”

Obediently Savannah put both hands on his head, then braced herself for whatever was to come. But she didn't really need to, she realized with a smile. Now that she and Adam were truly together, she was ready for anything. Anything at all.

Although she couldn't help wondering, as Adam made her giggle, then squeal with delight as he kissed her again, if she weren't tempting fate just a
little
too much these days….

A
dam realized something was amiss from the moment the telegraph station came into view the following afternoon. Even as he guided the horse and wagon down the road, he squinted through the trees, trying to pinpoint what was wrong.

An overall air of stillness lay over the station, making the place appear strangely deserted. One of the windows had a smashed pane; its shutter hung crookedly. Near the barn, a portion of the fence railing was broken; it lay on the ground. Most alarming of all, no smoke came from the station's chimney. By now, Mose should have been there, tending the wires.

Concerned, Adam urged the horse to go faster. The wagon jounced along the rutted road, its wheels and springs scarcely equipped for such speed. The trees flew past in a rush.

Beside him, Savannah grabbed her ribbon-bedecked hat. It appeared on the verge of flying away in the breeze.
“What's the matter? Are you in that much of a hurry to get home?”

Her tone was teasing, her demeanor carefree—exactly as it had been since they'd awakened in each other's arms this morning. Their wedding night had been more than Adam could have dreamed, full of laughter and passion and far too little sleep. Their togetherness had continued on into today, with a shared bath that had sloshed soapy water all over their hotel room floor. But he and Savannah hadn't cared. They'd only sank deeper into the bubbles, laughing and kissing, and decided to worry about sopping up the puddles later…much,
much
later.

But now they couldn't delay any longer.
Later
had arrived, and with it, Adam's remembrance of all he had yet to deal with. He could not regret marrying Savannah to protect her—nor even consummating their marriage afterward. Because of that, Savannah would not be able to obtain an annulment, the way he'd planned; that was true. But now Adam dared to hope she wouldn't want to.

For the first time, he dared to hope that she would want
him
…even after he told her the truth about who he really was.

But the troubles they'd left behind during their wedding trip hadn't gone away while they'd been in Avalanche—to the contrary, in fact. Judging by the wrecked appearance of the telegraph station, trouble had come looking for them.

“Someone has been here.” At the farthest edge of the yard, Adam pulled the horse and wagon to a stop. He set the brake, then put his hand to his gun belt. He checked his knife, too.

Savannah noticed. “What sort of ‘someone'?” She cast a nervous glance at the station. “Mrs. Finney, perhaps?”

“I doubt it.” Grim-faced, Adam jumped to the ground.

Savannah did, too. “Mose?” she called. “Mose, are you here?”

She headed for the station, but Adam rounded the wagon first. He caught her arm, then shook his head. “Let me go first. As soon as I make sure everything is all right, I'll call you.”

She seemed on the verge of disagreeing. Then she nodded.

“All right.” Savannah squeezed his hand, her worried gaze searching his. “But this doesn't feel right. Be careful.”

Adam didn't have to promise he would take care. Now more than ever, he had reason to keep himself safe—because he had someone to stay safe for. All the same, he gave a curt nod.

“Get on the other side of the wagon, away from the station. Keep the wagon between you and anyone you see come out.”

“Come out? Exactly who do you think will come out?”

“Please.” Adam checked his firearm. “Just do it.”

Pale-faced, Savannah agreed. As he'd instructed, she scurried around to the other, safer side of the wagon.

The horse shifted at its head, undoubtedly longing to be freed of its traces, groomed and fed, as usual. The creature knew they were home and, spotting the barn, it wanted to be comfortably inside it. Savannah patted the horse's long neck, murmured something to it, then vanished on the other side of the wagon. It was just like her, Adam thought, to spare a moment to reassure the horse, even when they faced unknown troubles.

With his shoulders taut, Adam made sure Savannah was out of sight, then he advanced toward the station building. The front door hung aslant on its hinges, he noticed with deepening alarm. He could see a sliver of the station's living
quarters in the gap formed between the door and the jamb. Spotting no movement inside, Adam ran stealthily around the corner of the building.

Here, there were signs of horses. At least three of them. The ground was torn up with hoofprints—and with dank tobacco-juice stains. In all the time Adam had spent at the telegraph station, he reflected, few people had visited there—only Doc Finney and his wife. As an adjunct station, the place mostly relayed messages along the wires instead of taking them down for customers. Three visitors was definitely unusual.

Frowning, Adam scanned the tree line, then the slope leading up the nearby mountain. He saw no movement amid the ponderosa pines or scrub oak. Even the birds and ground squirrels were still. The road leading to town was empty.

Proceeding as he'd been trained, he circled the building, trying to assess what had happened. On the far side of the station, another window was smashed. Now that he was close to the damage, Adam expected to see shards of glass on the ground.

He didn't. Perplexed, he nudged himself upward. He looked cautiously inside the window, keeping his head as far out of shooting range as he could. If the window had been broken from the outside, as he suspected it had been, there would have been glass on the floor inside the station. There wasn't.

Since the station appeared deserted, Adam glanced back to make sure Savannah remained safely out of sight, then headed for the barn. Savannah's individually named chickens scratched in the grassy ground nearby, chasing bugs. They clucked in annoyance as he strode between them, scattering their flock.

Holding his weapon steady, Adam nudged open the barn door with his foot. It opened with a creak that made him
cringe. He paused, then ducked inside the shadowy interior. The smells of hay and aged lumber struck him first, then a faint, earthy tinge of soil and manure. Outside, the chickens clucked. Sunlight splintered between cracks in the barn walls, giving Adam just enough illumination to see that the cow's stall was empty.

The creature hadn't been in the paddock, either. Frowning anew, Adam hastily checked the rest of the barn. He glanced upward toward the loft…then froze as a voice came toward him.

It sounded low, but it was getting louder. He couldn't make out any words. Newly alert, Adam ran toward the barn door.

Now he heard footsteps, too. With his gun still raised, Adam concentrated on the sound. Only one person. He could handle one person—especially since they seemed to be headed toward the barn. Given the sunny day outside, Adam's position inside gave him an advantage. Whoever entered next would be temporarily blinded by the dimness.

More footsteps. Then a low mumble. It sounded like…

Adam stepped out, his gun raised. “Stop right there.”

Mose stood silhouetted in the barn doorway. He raised both arms in surprise. The leather lead in his hand jangled. He squinted, his expression showing surprise…then annoyance.

“Humph. Fine time for you to show up, Corwin, now that all the trouble's over with.” The station's helper grumbled, then lowered his arms in disgust. “Put your firearm away, why don't you, and help me put this place to rights again.”

 

As it turned out, Adam tried to do exactly that. But first he went back to the wagon to collect Savannah and make
sure she knew everything was all right. And from there, Savannah wouldn't hear of him and Mose working on the damage to the station until she'd taken a turn at fussing over her longtime helper…and peppering him with questions, too. They all settled inside the station, with Savannah busy at the stove as she talked.

“Honestly, Mose. You nearly frightened me to death!” She hurried to the station's dining table—where she'd stalwartly placed Adam and Mose—with a tinware coffeepot in hand, busily refilling their cups. As though the brew were a bona fide cure-all, Savannah nodded for her friend to have a sip. “When we got here and saw you weren't around…Well, I feared the worst. I'm
so
happy nothing truly awful happened.”

“This looks pretty awful,” Adam said.

He aimed his chin at the general disarray inside the station. The place appeared to have been thoroughly ransacked.

Cupboards and drawers were open, their contents spilling onto the floor. Savannah's cheval mirror was cracked. Her clothing was strewn about. Books and papers and maps lay in chaotic piles. The bedstead had been dragged out from the wall; now the mattress lay atop it at a haphazard angle, the bedding and pillows piled higgledy-piggledy on one corner of it.

Up near the business end of the station, the situation was a little improved, but only because, as Mose had explained, he'd tackled that cleanup job first. He'd also swept up all the broken window glass, explaining to Adam's satisfaction why he'd seen none of it on the ground or on the floorboards inside. “Yes, but
Mose
is all right,” Savannah said in a robust tone. “That's what truly matters.” She smiled unsteadily at him, then patted his shoulder, still hovering nearby with
the coffeepot. “I swear, Mose. If anything had happened to you—”

“Nothing's going to happen to me. Not this week or ever.” Mose stared into his coffee cup, appearing embarrassed by all the ruckus. “I'm too crotchety to go down without a fight.”

“Maybe.” Savannah pursed her lips doubtfully. “But you're not bulletproof! If I'm not mistaken, those are
bullet holes
in my costume trunk.” She pointed to the offending splintery spots in a nearby chest. “That could have been
you
, Mose!”

The big man only shrugged, then exchanged a long-suffering look with Adam. For the first time, Adam felt a sense of camaraderie with him. Now that they were both under Savannah's official purview, it was clear they'd have to endure a whole lot of well-meaning nurturing.

“This all happened yesterday?” Adam asked. He knew that Savannah was right in one respect: those bullet holes were troubling. Because shooting up the places the gang looted was the particular calling card of Wyatt Bedell. Adam had no doubt that he and his brothers were responsible for this. “You didn't see anyone? Hear anyone?” he asked Mose. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.” The station helper nodded. “Like I said before, all I heard was a crazy kind of mooing coming from the cow. I could tell right away she was in trouble, so I hustled out there to see what was wrong. What I saw was that paddock fence, all busted up like you just saw it, and the cow—”

“Poor Penelope!” Savannah shook her head.

“—trotting clean up the hill like she'd been herded that way. I didn't see anybody else. But she was spooked pretty bad. The way she was running, it took me the better part of the afternoon and on into the evening to round her up and
get her safely to Mr. Yarnell's place, down toward Morrow Creek.”

Because of the damage to the paddock fence, Mose explained further, he'd decided against leaving Penelope in their own barn after he'd caught up with the cow and harnessed her. Instead he'd relied on the generosity of their neighbor to temporarily house Penelope until the fence could be repaired. Mose had been coming back from milking her when he'd met Adam.

“I reckon it's pretty clear that somebody wanted me out of the station,” Mose went on. “I don't know what they were looking for, and I don't know if they found it. But they banged up the telegraphy apparatus pretty good while they were here.”

“I'm just relieved they didn't get to you!” Savannah gave his grizzled hand a heartfelt squeeze. “If anything like this ever happens again, don't you wait for an excuse like Penelope getting out, you hear? You just run away as fast as you can.”

Mose frowned. “I'm not running away from anything.”

“I want you to! You don't have to be brave,” Savannah insisted, pouring him more coffee. “You've already demonstrated enough bravery to last you a lifetime, Mose. You know what I'm referring to.” She gave him a meaningful look. “I'd say you've earned yourself a little surefire safety by now.”

Mose shifted in his seat, then gulped back more coffee. He didn't look at Savannah as he set down his cup. It seemed evident that he felt uncomfortable—and Adam knew why.

“It would put my mind at ease to know you agree,” Savannah pressed, her knuckles white on the coffeepot. “That's for sure.”

Mose rubbed his temple, sitting conspicuously silent.

“He's not running, Savannah,” Adam said gently. “No man would. Any man worth being called a man would stay and fight, if he had the chance.”

Mose nodded. He cast Adam an appreciative glance, then appeared to remember he was “crotchety” and scowled instead.

“Well, that's plumb ridiculous.” With her mouth downturned, Savannah headed back to the stove, where she'd already begun assembling a hasty meal of fried eggs, cornmeal mush and stewed, cinnamon-spiced dried apples. “If you can save yourself from something, you ought to do it. That's simple common sense. It doesn't make you less of a man to do that.”

Adam and Mose shook their heads in unison. “Yes, it does.”

“Especially if a man's property is threatened,” Mose added.

“Or his family is in danger.” Adam tightened his hold on his coffee cup, his whole body rebelling at the very thought.

If he and Savannah had been there when the Bedell brothers had arrived… He hated to think what might have happened.

No wonder they'd encountered Curtis Bedell on the road to Avalanche, he realized. Curtis had probably been scouting Adam and Savannah's location—the better to assure himself that he and his brothers would have plenty of undisturbed time to raid the telegraph station. They simply hadn't counted on Mose.