Tame a Wild Bride, a Western Romance (8 page)

“Well, tomorrow is going to come early and it sounds like I have my work cut out for me.
 
I think I’ll turn in.”

He nodded.
 
“I’ll be up after I finish my coffee.”

“Fine.
 
Goodnight.”

Rosie went up the stairs to the bedroom.
 
She’d been so busy since they got home, she hadn’t even put her clothes away.
 
Her valises were just where she had left them.
 
She opened one and unpacked it.
 
She opened drawers in the bureau hoping to find room for her things.
 
She found that Tom had cleared out a couple of drawers and part of the wardrobe for her.
 
She was touched that he would think of her needs.
 
Maybe there was hope after all.
 
She would use the small gesture to fortify her during his belligerent times.
 
She was afraid they might be many.

Even as rude as he was, Rosie couldn’t imagine leaving him if he loved her.
 
Obviously he’d loved his wife, or he wouldn’t be so upset after all this time, would he?
 
She didn’t know.
 
All she knew is she needed to get a move on if she wanted to have her unpacking done before he came up to the bedroom.

Both valises were emptied and slid under the bed for storage.
 
Unbuttoning her blouse, she peeled the sleeves down her arms and took it off letting it hit the floor.
 
Then she undid her skirt and it followed the blouse.
 
It was a good thing tomorrow was laundry day, her blouse needed a good scrubbing, as did her skirt.
 
She’d have to brush her jacket and get as much of the dust out of it as she could.
 
As she unfastened her corset she heard the door open and turned to find Tom staring at her.
 

“Well come in and close the door,” she said as she continued to unlace her corset.
 
She had on her chemise underneath, so it wasn’t like she was naked.
 
Though from the look on Tom’s face she might as well have been.
 
Rosie wasn’t experienced, but even she recognized the look as one of pure lust.
 
Time to put her plan in motion.
 
“I’m glad you’re here.
 
I can’t seem to get this lace undone.
 
Will you help me, please?”

He didn’t say anything but moved forward like he was made of wood.
 
Her corset laced up the front so she could get in and out of it without a maid, but he wouldn’t know that.
 
She turned to face him.
 
She’d unlaced it from the bottom up especially for this occasion.
 
Then she knotted the silk laces just below her breasts, so he would have to help her and brush up against her breasts to undo the laces.

Raising her arms, she began taking out the pins that held her hair in its bun on top of her head.
 
It also had the side effect of raising her breasts and thrusting them forward.
 
Quite nicely, she thought.

She watched his hands shake and he took a deep breath before he took a hold of her corset laces and undid the knot.
 
Proof positive he wasn’t immune to her.

Her breasts spilled into his hands as he opened the top lace and the corset fell to the floor.
 
When their skin touches, she cannot help herself and has a sharp intake of breath.
 
At that his eyes opened and their gazes met.
 
Something passed between them, his hands turned and caressed her plump breasts.
 
His thumbs teased her nipples through the fine fabric of her chemise, until they were hard little points.

Rosie let her unpinned hair tumble free and grasped Tom’s shoulders for support.
 
Then she moaned with pleasure as his thumbs worked their magic.
 
Her moan broke the spell.
 
Tom’s eyes opened and their gazes met again, both full of need.
 
He pulled his hands away from her.

“You tempt me, woman, more than I thought possible, but I won’t change my mind.”

He turned his back on her and left the room.

“Well, that went well,” she said to herself.
 
She shook out her hair and began to brush it.
 
“I won’t give up on you, Tom.
 
I won’t.
 
You’re my husband and I will have a real marriage,” she vowed aloud to his fading footsteps, not caring if he heard.
 
Now that he’d left, her breathing began to return to normal.
 
She fanned herself.
 
Lord, it was hot in here.

*****

Tom poured three fingers of whisky in a glass and drank it down.
 
Then he poured three more.
 
What the hell had come over him?
 
Didn’t he remember what Sarah did to him?
 
Women weren’t to be trusted.
 
A little voice inside him spoke up.
 
But Rosie’s different.
 
Rosie is nothing like Sarah.

The voice was right.
 
Sarah was never happy living on the ranch.
 
She didn’t like the work, didn’t like the house and, apparently, didn’t like him or the kids either.
 
But Rosie…Rosie
was
different.
 
She had her own money and still came.
 
She didn’t have to tell him about the money, but she did.
 
Even after learning about all the chores he had for her, she stayed.
 
Rosie liked his kids, was already thinking about them and their needs for the future before she’d even met them.

Ben already liked her.
 
She brought him books.
 
Loved the fact that he cherished reading.
 
Sarah never could relate to that.
 
She wasn’t a reader and couldn’t understand her husband and son’s interest in it.

No, Rosie was light to Sarah’s dark, but did that mean he could trust her?
 
It was too soon.
 
He’d only known her for two days.
 
No, that wasn’t exactly true.
 
He knew her through her letters.

They’d exchanged several letters before he’d finally asked her to marry him.
 
There were other responses to his advertisement but none stood out like Rosie’s.
 
Her letters always gave him a smile whether she was relating some atrocious thing her new sister-in-law had done or telling him about the neighbor’s new puppy.

Then she’d sent a photograph.
 
He’d actually fallen a bit more under her spell with the picture.
 
He saw her full lips and clear eyes.
 
He saw her light hair but hadn’t expected it to be as lovely as it was.

Even covered in dirt and grime from the trip, she’d been stunning.
 
And then at Mary’s, when she’d finally been able to wash her face, he’d been awestruck by her simple beauty.
 
Her pale skin, unblemished, her dark brown eyes, pools of brandy on a perfect canvas.
 
And her lips.
 
Full, red, ideal for kisses.
 
His kisses.

All of it made him more determined than ever to keep her at a distance.
 
She didn’t care for that idea.
 
Her ingenuity at finding ways to have him touch her made him smile and also sent him flying down here for a whiskey or two.

He had to keep her at arms’ length, but how was he supposed to do that when he slept with her every night?
 
How was he going to keep his traitorous subconscious from making love to her?
 
That was the real question.
 
He was afraid he’d wake to find her under him moaning in pleasure, much as she’d done tonight.
 

She did have the most beautiful breasts.
 
High and round, they filled his hands perfectly and he had big hands.
 
And her skin.
 
Had he ever seen anyone with skin so soft and flawless?
 
How he wanted to take her pert nipple into his mouth and suck until she begged him to take her.
 
Her moan was the only thing that saved him this time.

No way in hell he was going to be put in a position where he could be betrayed again.
 
The kids were the only thing that kept him sane last time.
 
They needed him.
 
He couldn’t wallow in self pity; he’d had to care for his children.
 
They didn’t know anything except Mama was gone.
 
Ben understood now that his mother was dead, but Suzie didn’t.
 
Her grandma was the only ‘mother’ she’d known and now Rosie would be her mother.
 
But that was all she’d be.
 
A mother for his children.
 
Nothing more.

Suzie already seemed to like Rosie.
 
She’d been ecstatic when she’d received Rosie’s gift of a new doll.
 
Wouldn’t let it out of her sight.
 
Insisted on taking it to bed with her.

And Ben.
 
When he found out Rosie liked to read she’d become his best friend.
 
Someone he could share his love of books with.
 
His kids needed Rosie and all the beauty she brought with her.
 
They needed her.
 
He didn’t.
 

Even the men seemed to like Rosie.
 
They’d never had anyone ask them what they wanted or liked to eat.
 
They were lucky if Sarah put something on the table that was edible.
 
Her lack of cooking skills were what made him hire the first of many women to help her take care of the house.

Rosie won over everyone just by being herself.
 
Including him if he were to admit it.
 
But he couldn’t be won over.
 
She was nice and pretty and all the things a wife and mother should be, but he’d made a mistake once and damned if he’d do it again it over a pretty face and tempting flesh.
 
And Lord, was she tempting.
 

Sarah left him for a traveling peddler who promised her the moon and all the stars.
 
The fancy life of ease she’d always wanted.
 
She’d been surprised when they married to discover she was expected to work.
 
Apparently, she’d never done so before. Just how she got on he wasn’t sure but after their wedding night and discovering she wasn’t the virgin she professed to be, he had a clue.
 
When Ben came along six weeks early, he’d had another.
 
But none of it mattered to him at the time and only now made him wonder if he was right in thinking she was pregnant when they married.
 
But Ben looked just like him.
 
Right down to the dark hair and blue eyes.

*****

She read the letter again.

Tom Harris remarried.
 
She’s rich.
 
Deposited $5000 in bank. Come home, we can make a killing.

All my love,

Your brother.

Folding the letter carefully, she placed it back in the envelope.
 
Things hadn’t worked out like she planned or like Frank promised.
 
Five thousand would get her back to the life of ease, back to the life she wanted.
 
Now she just had to figure out how to get it.

*****

Tom walked into the pen where the chickens were kept and headed for the coop, which was what he called the small shed inside the pen.
 
Rosie followed him.
 
He ignored the chickens and they flapped to get out of his way.
 

Once inside the chicken coop he walked behind the nest shelves.
 
There were three shelves in the coop with four nests on each shelf.
 
Not all of them were empty of hens.
 
Those that were, he just plucked the egg from the nest and placed it in the basket he carried.
 
For those that the hen was still there sitting on her egg, he tried first reaching under the sitting hen.
 
If that didn’t work, he would push the hen out of the nest and grab the egg.