The Drifter's Bride (3 page)

‘A pretty girl like that,’ Carl said. ‘Surely she has many suitors.’

‘Well…’ Sam tipped his straw hat forward and scratched the back of his head. ‘There’s a kind of a problem…with her mother’s family…’

‘I know.’ Carl spoke in a low voice. ‘She’s a half-Apache who was visiting her mother’s people and didn’t need rescuing at all. Makes no difference to me. We made a deal, and I held up my end. I’ve brought her back.’

‘She told you about her Ma?’

‘She told me. You can pay me now. Then I’ll leave.’

‘Ain’t quite that simple.’

‘It’s as simple as can be,’ Carl replied.

He saw Sam’s hand tighten on the rifle. Snaking out one arm, Carl wrestled the weapon from the old man and snapped the barrel open to remove the cartridges. He slipped them into his pocket before handing back the weapon.

‘I ain’t got the money.’ Sam propped the rifle against a tree, shoved his thumbs beneath his suspenders and rocked on his feet. ‘There. I’ve said it. Ain’t got no more than sixteen dollars to my name. If you want something out of this, you’ll have to take the girl.’

‘I’m not a man to settle down.’ Carl met the old man’s faded green eyes. ‘I need to be free. I can’t stand locked doors, or thick walls, or being forced to stay in one place.’

‘You don’t have to stay.’

His brows drew together. ‘What do you mean?’

‘All I need is a white man to marry Jade.’ Eagerly Sam leaned forward. ‘Just your name on the deed. Then no one can take the farm from her.’ As if sensing an opening, Sam continued, ‘I don’t have many years left. When I die, some greedy settler will drive Jade from the land. She’ll end up with the Indians, starving on a reservation. Or worse, she’ll be abused by white men who believe they won’t be hanged for raping a half-breed.’

Carl stifled his angry protest. He knew Sam was right.

‘A marriage just in name?’ Carl said.

‘Well…’ Sam scratched the back of his head.

‘Well, what?’ Carl snapped.

‘The girl needs a baby. Someone to inherit the farm after her.’

‘A baby?’ Carl recalled the vision Jade had made standing up on the stone by the creek, her naked skin gilded by the sunlight. A wave of heat rushed through his body. To give her a child he would have to spend nights in bed with her, learn every secret of her body and become part of her life, even if just for a short while.

The thought did not make his anger at Sam’s offer fade.

But he was even angrier with himself because he knew he’d accept.

Jade tied the blue roan beside the house, where the animal could graze on the lush grass. She drew a bucketful of water from the well and poured it into a wooden trough for the horse to drink. Then she settled in the rocker and prepared for another rejection.

The tall, lean figure of Carl Ritter emerged from the twilight between the rows of flowering apple trees. For one second, Jade admitted to the dreams that had filled her head from the moment she had first looked at him properly. But then she realized he was returning alone, and his right hand was clenched into a fist.

Jade surged to her feet. Her heart beat in a wild cadence. She might not approve of her father’s scheming, but she loved him regardless. Perhaps even more for being so stubborn about trying to secure her future.

‘Where’s my Pa?’ she hurried to ask.

‘He stayed behind to enjoy the evening cool.’

Her mind raced. Carl had been adamant about collecting the hundred dollars that her father owed him—the hundred dollars she knew they didn’t have. She made a small, helpless gesture toward his fist. ‘You didn’t…fight with him?’

Carl climbed up the porch steps, his boot heels ringing in unhurried thuds. He came to a halt in front of her and propped his hips against the porch railing. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Your father can’t pay the rescue fee, but he’s offered me something else.’

‘I know.’ Jade sank into the rocker. Her voice turned bitter. ‘He always does. That’s how he gets away without paying. The men feel bad about having to admit they don’t want a half-Indian wife, and they ride off without giving him trouble over the money.’

She kicked the rocker into motion. ‘Pa picks the wrong kind of men to rescue me. Not grizzly old men whose only requirement for a wife is that she’s female. Pa picks decent men with their lives ahead of them. They don’t want to ruin their prospects by marrying an Indian.’

‘Is that how it goes?’

Annoyed by his unruffled manner, she shot him a sour glance. ‘That’s how it goes. He hired two others before you, and neither of them wanted an Indian wife, even if she came with a fruit farm and a log cabin.’ She jutted out her chin. ‘I won’t let Pa offer me without telling the truth about my background.’

In the quiet twilight, the scent of flowering trees floated on the evening breeze. Carl was the first to break the silence. ‘Your father wants a man to be your legal husband, and he wants a grandchild. Someone to inherit the farm one day.’ He opened his fist to reveal a single white bloom nestled in his palm. He held the flower out to her. ‘I can’t be tied to one place, but I’m willing to give you my name, and father a child. Once you’re pregnant, I’ll leave. You’ll be free to do what you want to do, be whoever you want to be.’

She stared up at his face. ‘Why?’

His dark, guarded gaze swept over her. ‘I watched you bathe.’

Jade remembered the feel of his lips on hers, his arms around her, their bodies crushed together, his heart thundering beneath her own. He was telling her that he wanted to take her to bed, and was willing to pay for the privilege by giving her his name and a child.

And then he’d leave.

Unless…unless she could bind him with emotional ties.

‘I’m agreeable if you are,’ Jade said. From beneath her lashes she studied his guarded expression. Heat flared inside her at the thought of what would happen between them in the coming weeks, no matter how their future would eventually unfold.

* * *

Judge Halloran sat behind his desk, sandy hair brushed back from his forehead, handlebar moustache quivering in the middle of his heavy face. ‘Does the groom know…what he is getting into?’

Jade controlled the flush of anger. ‘If you’re asking have I told him I’m a half-breed, the answer is yes.’ She paused, trying to shake off the hurt that swelled inside her. ‘And if I hadn’t,’ she added in a bitter tone, ‘he would have figured out that something was wrong when the hotel suddenly ran out of rooms and people were crossing the street to avoid speaking to me.’

She wore her best clothing, a green satin gown with lace around the collar and sleeves. A beaded necklace was the only visible concession to her native heritage. Next time she came into town, she’d dress in buckskin and feathers to show her defiance.

Carl wore his threadbare wool pants and coat, but he had changed into a clean white shirt that emphasized his tanned skin and amber eyes. A shadow of stubble darkened his lean cheeks. He looked exactly what he was—a drifter without a penny to his name.

‘Well, yes, then…let’s proceed.’ The portly judge cleared his throat and got on with the wedding ceremony.

Jade said her piece, listened to Carl say his, and watched the judge record the marriage in the county ledger in careful, neatly drawn letters. Her father produced the deed to the fruit farm and had Carl’s name added to it.

That done, they returned to the buckboard they had left tied at the end of the street. As they came to a stop under the hot afternoon sun, her father shifted on his feet and stared at the dusty ground, looking uncomfortable in his formal black suit and polished shoes.

‘I guess I’ll stay at the saloon for the night.’ He scratched the back of his head. ‘Give you privacy…now that you can’t stay in the hotel as you planned. I’ll find someone to bring me home tomorrow.’

‘Thank you, father.’ Jade stepped forward, curled her hands on his shoulders and rose on tiptoes to kiss his wrinkled cheek. She pulled back and gave him a shaky smile. ‘We’ll expect to see you tomorrow around midday.’

By which time I’ll be truly married,
she thought as Carl helped her up, the firm grip of his hands around her waist making her heart race and her breath catch in her chest.

* * *

Jade blew out the oil lamps and got into bed. She had spent the afternoon moving her father’s things out of the big bedroom where she and her husband would sleep, and transferring her own possessions there from the smaller bedroom.

Although she had left the door ajar, Carl knocked on the heavy oak panel.

‘Jade? Can I come in?’

‘Yes.’

She could feel him moving in the darkness, undressing.

‘Carl?’ she whispered.

‘Yes?’

Silence settled over the room. All afternoon, she had fought the turmoil of emotions. Gratitude, anger, apprehension. Carl wanted her body, enough to agree to her father’s plan, but he didn’t want her enough to stay. His name would secure the ownership of the farm and a child would provide a future. She should not want more than he could give.

And yet, she did.

‘What is it, Jade?’

‘Nothing,’ she replied with a sigh. ‘Just nerves.’

She felt a hand settle at the base of her throat, fingertips tracing the small hollow between her collarbones. Butterfly’s touch. That’s how she’d imagined a kiss would be, but he had given her fire and thunder. What would he give her now?

His fingertips trailed lower. One by one, he undid the buttons on her nightgown. He kept stroking her skin as he reached farther down. Touching the edge of her breast. Sliding across its peak. The rasp of his calloused thumb over her beaded nipple made her gasp with pleasure.

Fire. He was going to give her more fire. Flames ignited in her belly, flared along her skin. As Carl climbed in beside her, the bedding rustled with his weight. The blankets lifted from her shoulders and chest, allowing the cool night air to ease the heat that raged inside her.

‘Take off your nightgown,’ he said.

Not pausing to think, Jade bunched the hem of the cotton gown in her hands, wriggled her hips to pull the garment free and slipped it over her head. She hesitated, twisting the fabric in her hands before tossing it down to the floor.

The light. She wanted it on, she realized with surprise. She wanted to see his body, the way he had already seen hers when he watched her bathing by the creek.

‘Can you relight the lamp?’ she asked.

She heard him make a small, startled sound, and then she heard the jostling of objects on the night table—a rasp, a flare, the clip of glass against metal. The steady glow of a flame appeared as he lifted the globe and touched the match to the wick.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the light. She could see the deep groove of his spine. Around it horizontal lines made pale tracks in the smooth, bronzed skin. Appearing to have a will of its own, her hand reached up and traced some of the scars.

‘What is this?’ she asked.

‘Marks from a whip.’ He paused, then added, ‘From when I was a boy. Now, no man could do that to me and live to see another day.’

Pity welled up inside her. Her life had been so safe, so secure, until she had rocked its balance with her foolish act of loyalty toward her mother’s heritage. Carl’s childhood must have been hard, and perhaps most of his adult years too.

An understanding of what he needed from her dawned on Jade. She knew what she could give him now. Rolling over on her side, she knelt behind him while he remained seated on the edge of the bed. One by one, she kissed his scars, running her lips over them, tracing them with her tongue.

‘Jade.’ His voice was a broken whisper.

‘Hush,’ she said. ‘Let me heal you. Let me make the pain go away.’

Carl didn’t reply, and she knew he understood. She wasn’t talking about the physical pain, which had healed long ago. She meant the scars inside. Those remained, and she hoped she had the means to heal them, or at least to ease the pain for a while.

Shifting her position behind him, she wrapped her arms around him and coiled her legs about his waist to cocoon him in a tight embrace. A rough sound rumbled in his throat and he spun around, swinging her down on her back, trapping her body beneath his.

The hungry, masculine attack released a fierce need inside her. A need to give, a need to share, a need to offer comfort and receive comfort in return. She cupped his face between her palms, pulling him down to her. His mouth settled over hers in a deep, greedy kiss, and his hands stroked her arms and shoulders.

All of a sudden, Carl broke the kiss. He studied her, his expression solemn. ‘Are you sure, Jade?’ he asked. ‘There’s no undoing this.’

‘I’m sure,’ she whispered.

With a rough growl of impatience, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to her neck, trailing hot kisses down to her breast. Jade jolted up on the bed. Her hands tangled in his hair to hold him in place, demanding more. When Carl took her taut nipple between his teeth and tugged, the fire inside her burned out of control.

‘I know you’re trying to be gentle, but it’s all right to give it to me like thunder and lightning,’ she told him, her voice that of someone else, for surely that husky, sultry murmur belonged to a woman far more experienced than she could ever be.

Carl stilled, poised on one elbow above her. ‘It will hurt.’

‘I don’t care.’ She met his gaze. The flame from the lamp painted his face in light and shadow—the clean ridge of a straight nose, the deep hollows of lean cheeks. She saw him nod, and then he lowered his mouth to hers for another fierce kiss. Reaching between her legs, he teased the slippery heat there before fitting their bodies together in a startling new intimacy.

At the sudden stab of pain, she let out a sharp moan.

He froze. ‘Do you need me to stop?’

‘No. I’m not fool enough to think you can stop thunder and lightning.’

A soft laugh rumbled in his chest. She loved hearing him laugh, loved the way the flash of amusement gilded the moment, making it as magical as a ray of sunshine in the middle of a storm.

‘Lightning,’ he said, and flexed his hips to drive deep into her.

Another jolt of pain tore at her tender flesh. He kissed her then, a light caress on her lips as he stilled above her. ‘Ready for me?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

He started moving, sliding out of her and inching back in again, keeping it easy, gentle, until the pain had faded. Greedy for more, she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. Carl picked up his speed, murmuring words of encouragement as he rocked in and out of her.

Harder. Deeper. Faster.

She was sinking into a whirlpool of heat and want and need, and just when it all seemed too much to take, the tension broke in glorious ripples of joy. She cried out, arching beneath him, her body clenching around him. With one final surge Carl bowed above her, his face hard with passion, and she could feel him pulse in a release that matched hers.

Sinking down, he wrapped his arms around her, his weight like a safe anchor that brought her back to sanity. His ragged breath stirred the air by her cheek. His sweat-slicked body radiated heat. His heart pounded so hard she could feel it against her breast.

With a languid brush of his hand, Carl swept her hair back from her brow. ‘Thunder and lightning,’ he said in a muffled drawl. ‘Did you like riding the storm with me?’

‘Yes.’ Tears of tenderness welled in her eyes. ‘I’ll never forget tonight.’ She turned her head to press a kiss to his shoulder and knew she had spoken the truth. Whatever the future brought, she’d cherish the memory of her wedding night as long as she lived.

* * *

He pounded at a heavy wooden door. The smell of scorching flesh filled his every breath and smoke burned his lungs. His aching fists smeared blood on the flat panel of timber. On the other side, he could hear flames roaring and young, feminine voices screaming.

Screaming and screaming and screaming…

‘Carl, wake up. Wake up.’

Awareness came in a rush. He felt a hand gripping his shaking shoulder, heard a soft voice crooning, ‘It’s all right. It’s only a nightmare.’

Jade. His wife.

Reality flooded his confused senses. His wedding two days ago. His wedding night. The next morning when he realized it had all been a terrible mistake. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do what he had agreed to do. For the second time in his life, he couldn’t fulfill a promise he’d made to someone he cared about, and the knowledge tore him up inside.

All day yesterday, he had labored out in the orchard, cutting down a huge apple tree that no longer bore edible fruit. He had chopped the thick trunk into firewood, pushing the saw and swinging the axe until his body screamed with fatigue, in the hope that exhaustion would keep him from reaching for Jade in the night.