The Cowboy's E-Mail Order Bride (11 page)

Mack had lived and worked on the ranch since Ethan was ten and felt like one of the family. He was a cowboy through and through, with a swagger to his step, a joke at the ready, and a laugh that boomed out over the yard and made everyone in earshot turn to look. He seemed larger than life – a heck of a lot more fun than his quiet father, who only opened his mouth to issue orders, or so it seemed to him at the time.

His mother would come out of the Big House sometimes to bring him a glass of lemonade, and always brought one for Mack, too. He knew she did it for an excuse to step outside and get away from the cooking and cleaning that took up her days whenever she was home. He didn’t blame her – how any woman could stand inside work when the sun was blazing away in the wide Montana sky he never could fathom. He figured her frequent trips abroad were an antidote to the boredom of being a rancher’s wife.

Claire spent plenty of time at this corral, too, of course. Mack actually let her into the pen when he was working with new horses. For someone who spent half her day screaming, she had a way about her when animals were present.

Ethan smiled at the memory, then frowned as he turned to look at the Big House and saw Autumn striding purposefully up the walk to the front door. With her damn camera in her hand.

What the hell?

Jamie turned, too. “Hey Ethan. How’s it going with your new bride? Surprised to see you haven’t sent her packing yet.” He cocked his head as he watched her turn the handle on the front door to the Big House and hesitate, as if surprised to find it unlocked. She stepped inside.

Why hadn’t he sent her packing? Because he thought she was different than all the other women in his life? Because he thought maybe she might have more sense, or less avarice, or the ability to string a couple of sentences together in a row without lying? Had he lost her because of the ranch’s debts, or because he hadn’t told her about them sooner?

“I gotta go,” he said.

“Hey, take it easy on her,” Jamie said, and Ethan looked back at the wiry man who’d taken Mack’s job when the other man left the ranch. “She’s probably just curious, that’s all. She only knows as much of your history as you’ve told her.”

“What the hell do you care?”

Jamie shook his head and snorted at his hostility. “She’s a sight better than Lacey – any fool can see that, even at a distance. She’s not your mother or your sister. She’s a girl who came out here because she wants to live on a ranch with a cowboy for a husband. You need a woman around, so why don’t you give her half a chance before you go driving her away? Maybe she’ll surprise you.”

Ethan followed his gaze to the Big House, where Autumn was just visible in the living room windows. “Too late – I’ve already driven her away.”

“You sure about that? She doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere.”

Ethan shrugged, squashing the tendril of hope Jamie’s words stirred within him. Autumn hadn’t brought much with her to Montana. She was probably already packed and bored and just needed something to fill the rest of the day.

Jamie turned back to the horse and Ethan strode for the Big House, his friend’s words echoing in his ears. Maybe she wasn’t leaving. After all, she might be carrying his child.

He waved off the thought. What were the chances of that?

You made love to her without protection – the chances might be better than you think.

Maybe that’s why she was walking through the Big House – to estimate how much they could earn from the sale of the ranch. Maybe she intended to file for child support and wanted to be able to tell the court exactly how much he was worth. His blood began to boil. That’s all he needed – another creditor to drive him under. If she thought he would sell just to support her and the baby…

Oh, hell. What was he thinking? Of course he’d do whatever it took support his wife and child. And if she refused to marry him now, he’d still do what he had to in order to keep a roof over his baby’s head and food on the table. He might pay for the rest of his life for that one, thoughtless night of passion, but he’d make damn sure his kid didn’t pay for it. That wasn’t fair.

What if Autumn took the baby back to New York? Could he stand that? A city was no place to raise a child – not by his way of thinking anyway. Kids needed room to run, horses to ride, trouble to get into – good, clean, safe trouble. He blew out a breath as his thoughts circled around again. He needed to think of some way to keep this ranch, to force Autumn to stay and marry him, and to raise his child here. Right here.

Because that would be his definition of paradise, wouldn’t it? Not just any ranch – this one. Not just any wife – Autumn. And not just any child – but theirs, the first of many more to come.

Autumn was in the Big House and he’d better get in there, too, and start explaining things to her. Claire was right; the sale would clear all the family’s debts and leave a little for starting over, but not enough to buy another ranch. Barely enough to buy a house in town.

Then what would he do? Put on a suit and tie and go to work for the bank? Not likely they’d have him, with his high school diploma and work-scarred hands.

What a hell of a mess.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Autumn wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting when she opened the door to the Big House. Cobwebs, maybe. Dust as thick as a carpet over everything.

Though the house had a whiff of the mustiness she expected from a home that hadn’t been lived in for months, it was otherwise immaculate. The electricity was on, she discovered when she flicked a switch in the entryway. She walked into a foyer the size of her New York apartment, that led straight into a great room whose ceiling soared two stories above. A massive staircase to her left led to a balcony from which she assumed one reached the bedrooms. The living room windows overlooked the ranch buildings in the foreground and on to a sweeping view of the Beartooth Mountains that took her breath away.

A counter separated the fully-equipped restaurant quality kitchen from the living room. The cook would never feel cut off from the action, especially not with the sink and oven positioned so she could face the living room and the view while making use of them. Her fingers itched to get to work. What feasts she could prepare here, and how lovely a setting in which to do so. She pictured guests taking their ease in the comfortable chairs and sofas by the floor-to-ceiling windows, resting their tired limbs after a day of trail riding and “helping” the ranch hands with their chores.

She’d circulate with trays of appetizers and cold drinks, making sure everyone felt right at home, while a roast or hearty stew sent tantalizing aromatic hints of the meal to come. A rustic plank table and chairs already sat in one corner of the huge living room. She counted 18 places and wondered how Ethan’s small family had kept from feeling overwhelmed at such a large table. Maybe the ranch hands lived on the property back in those days, and ate with them, or maybe they had frequently had company.

The house was beautiful and her heart ached at the thought of it standing empty for so many months. Ethan’s grief must have consumed him if he couldn’t bear to live here after his parent’s deaths. Who took care of it now? she wondered. Claire? Somehow she didn’t think so. She repressed an urge to shiver. The woman’s anger at finding her on the property had been palpable, but she had the feeling Claire’s anger went a lot deeper than being last to hear about Ethan’s engagement. She’d stumbled into a family with issues, that was for sure.

After examining the kitchen more closely – a six burner range, professional grade pots and pans that gleamed with care, a refrigerator twice the size of the one in her apartment, and every gadget and gizmo a chef could want – she took photographs of the main floor from every angle. She was halfway up the stairs to the balcony when the sound of the front door opening halted her in her tracks.

Ethan stepped into view, cocking his hat back the better to look at her. “One point two million,” he said.

“I beg your pardon?” Her heart was in her throat, but not at being found trespassing. Ethan was so handsome in his jeans, work shirt, and cowboy hat, she couldn’t tear her gaze from his face. How could she ever leave this man?

“The ranch. It’s worth about one million, two hundred thousand dollars.”

Her mouth dropped open. That was a chunk of change.

“Don’t get too excited; my mother had the uncanny ability to spend more money in a year than most municipalities.” He started up the stairs. “Add in an equally uncanny ability to find doomed investments and the money from the sale of the ranch will barely cover the debts she left.” He stopped on the tread beneath hers. She found his proximity made it hard to breathe. Neither could she look away from him. He held her gaze and leaned closer. “Whatever is left, I have to split with Claire. I’ll be lucky to be able to put a roof over my head. Not the best situation to bring a wife, and maybe a child, into.”

“We’ll manage,” she heard herself say. This close to him she couldn’t think straight. She found his eyes mesmerizing, the line of his jaw fascinating, and had to grip the banister to keep from running her own mouth along his collar bone to the hollow at the base of his throat. No one was around, and she couldn’t imagine they’d be interrupted. She’d bet those bedrooms would be furnished with the finest of beds, and if they couldn’t make it that far, the plush carpeting on these stairs would just have to do.

She leaned toward him, her lips parting.

Their kiss was as sweet as anything she’d known. He was hesitant at first, but when she put a hand on his chest, he groaned and swept her into his arms. She dropped the camera and clung to him, her hunger for his touch overriding her moment’s fear they’d overbalance and fall together down the stairs. She snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him with a passion that flared from tinder to full-on flame.

When his hand slid down the curve of her back to cup her bottom, Autumn gasped, then kissed him harder. Suddenly she couldn’t stand the layers of clothing between them. She wriggled in his arms until she could reach the buttons of his shirt. She made short work of them and was just reaching for her own when Ethan’s hand covered hers at the top of her neckline and he pulled apart her dress with a single tug. Buttons scattered and another rough tug took care of her bra – a front clasped one, thank goodness – releasing her breasts to his view. Ethan pulled back for a single moment, looked her over, then pushed her down to a sitting position, leaned her back against the stair treads, and bent to take one nipple into his mouth.

Autumn writhed beneath him, glorying in the touch of his mouth, his tongue on her flesh. As he swept from one breast to the other and back again, the sensation swirled over her, through her and heated her to the core. She knocked off his hat and fisted her hands in his thick hair, moaning again as he dipped lower, lower, and nuzzled her sensitive core.

“Ethan,” she gasped, then arched her back as his tongue took her even higher.

Moments later he was back in her arms, covering her body with his, as naked as she’d somehow become.

“Autumn.” Her name was a question and she understood him completely. Was she sure she wanted this?

“Protection?” she gasped and he hesitated a fraction of a second.

“Wait,” he said and kissed her once more, a rough scrape of his mouth against hers. Then he was gone and she shivered in his absence. Before she could question it, he was back, a condom in hand. “My old stash,” he whispered. He had it on in an instant, then touched her chin, capturing her gaze once more. “Do you trust me?”

She nodded. Leaning forward he kissed her forehead, each of her eyes, her nose and then her mouth, covering her once more with his own lean, hard body.

She braced herself for his thrust, but opened her eyes again when he gently turned her in his arms. He guided her forearms to one stair tread, her knees to a lower one, framing her body with his own.

“Is this all right?” he breathed into her ear. He shifted forward, and his hardness pressed against her core, igniting an inner fire so bright it was all she could do not to press back against him and take him inside with one hard thrust.

“Autumn?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice so strained it was barely recognizable. “Yes. Please.”

She’d barely finished speaking when he pushed inside her. She cried out and he grunted, pulling out and pressing in again. He braced himself with a single hand on the stairs, using the other to cup her breasts. The sensation of him entering from behind her was breathtaking, but when he slid that hand down between her legs, the feeling was beyond any words.

Autumn bucked against him, the rhythm of his thrusts stoking the fire within her to new heights. She twisted her head to kiss him, to breathe raggedly into his ear, and when she nipped his earlobe, he redoubled his efforts, causing her to moan aloud.

Ethan’s pace quickened, her breasts swung in their own parallel rhythm, her sensitive nipples tantalized by the friction of the silky carpet against their tips. She arched her hips and pressed back into him, not able to get enough, unable to quench the thirst her body had developed for his touch.

Ethan grunted again, low and guttural, and Autumn clung to him, swept over the edge by want and need and desire. Ecstasy exploded within her, tossing her on wave after wave of sensation until she cried out again, bucking up against his hips, pressing her breasts down against the soft tread, closing her eyes in utter abandon to this lovemaking the likes of which she’d never known.