The Stafford Collection, Historical Western Romances (16 page)

Chapte
r
16

B
rock had the following morning off. There had been an increase in ordinance violations, so they had hired a deputy to assist him. Most of the misdeeds were minor but it had reached a point at which it was helpful to have someone on duty from dawn till dusk. Since the railroad was established, more and more cattlemen had been moving into town. The second cell was now fixed and, some nights, both were occupied. It worked out well. Stan, the deputy, was single and sometimes slept on a cot they had recently added to the already cramped jail.

After making breakfast, Brock went over to awaken Sabrina. He debated lying down with her again but did not know how she would react after last night’s events. Somehow, things seemed different the
next day.  He cautiously awoke her with a soft nudge.

“Breakfast is ready,” he said, smiling down at her.

Sabrina groaned and pulled the cover up over her head to block out the bright sunlight from the window. She was still tired and sore. Sore. Realizing why she was sore made her face grow warm. How would she be able to look at him again after…?

“Sabrina?” he asked with a hint of worry in his voice.

She pulled the covers down to her chin so she could breathe. She had just noticed she was still naked. “Morning,” she squeaked out, not looking at his face, or any other part of him for that matter. He handed her clothes to her and watched bemused as she disappeared back under the covers, dragging the clothes with her to dress. Shaking his head, he sat at the table with his back to her giving her a bit more privacy. She appeared a couple of minutes later, still wrapped in the blanket even though she was fully dressed.

Sabrina was mortified. She did not know how to react or respond to Brock. Last night seemed like a good idea at the time.
Now with the light of day she did not know why she was embarrassed. Well, actually, she
knew
why she was embarrassed; she just did not know how to get unembarrassed. The silence in the room was deafening. She still had not looked at Brock, yet she felt his steady gaze on her. She needed to say something. Anything.

“Did you sleep well?” her mouth said as her brain screamed at her to shut up.

Brock smiled a bit. She was nervous. It was cute. “Yes I did. You?”

“I’m …good.” She figured good was a safe answer.

“Sabrina, look at me.”

She slowly lifted her chin so she could look at his face. Clinching her teeth she forced herself to look him in the eyes. He was big and strong and wonderful. And he was hers. So what was she scared of? She was scared of losing him---like she had lost everything else that she had loved.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. Brock fell on his knees next to her chair and pulled her into his arms. “Never. I will never leave you.” Sabrina hugged him tightly, only letting go regretfully to start the day.

Brock went out back to chop firewood for the coming winter and Sabrina finished cleaning up inside. Her hand was almost back to normal. She still did not have complete movement as she did in her other hand, but Thomas said it would return in time. In fact, he still stopped by occasionally to check on her progress and to make sure she was doing her exercises. She watched as Brock saddled Troy to head into town. He turned and asked her if she wanted to go with him, but she declined, saying she was still tired as she kissed him goodbye.

Her answer was not a total falsehood. She was tired. She was also very, very sore and could not imagine having to climb on a horse and ride for any amount of time. Of course, she had always heard that it was painful the first time. She had just thought it was an old wives’ tale. That it was something that mothers told their daughters so that they would not do it. She had just not believed that it would be
true
and how very true it was. She wondered if the second time hurt as well. She smiled to herself hoping she would find out soon.

Shaking her head, she went back into the house to gather up the laundry. Mrs. McAllister had a washboard and washbasin in
the barn and Sabrina started a fire outside in the yard to heat up some water. She went inside to gather all of hers and Brock’s dirty laundry. She didn’t care much for the chore. Not only was it time consuming but also backbreaking. She would rather muck out a stable any day than do laundry. Finally, after several hours, she hung up all of the clean wash on the line, and stood back to admire her handiwork. She frowned, noticing the rusty stain still visible on Brock’s sheets. She had scrubbed it and scrubbed it but it was still there. It was a lot lighter than it had been and she hoped that he would not notice.

Worn out, she headed inside to lie down for a bit. It was near dusk when she awoke. Cursing herself for sleeping so late she ran outside to bring in the laundry before it got damp from dew. She made the bed first so she could sit on it as she folded the other garments. She knew Brock would be in late since he had the morning off. She set about making supper for them, hoping he would arrive soon. He still had not arrived by the time she was done eating so, to occupy her mind, she took out her notepaper and started to write.

She pondered for a long while whom she should write. Only one person popped into her mind. Warren. Gathering her thoughts and her courage, she put pen to paper.

Sabrina read the short note several times before folding it and addressing it to Warren. She left the return address section blank. Not knowing where he was at the time she sent it to their home in Mississippi, figuring it would be delivered to him eventually. She was nervous about mailing it but knew she needed too. She could now put her demons behind her and move on in her new life.

Brock rode in shortly after she placed the letter in her saddlebag so she could mail it the next day. He had barely dismounted from his horse when she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. She told him about her letter, and he told her he was proud of her for being so brave. He jokingly asked if he could collect the reward money for her and she punched him in the arm. Laughing he pulled away to unsaddle Troy.

He then scooped Sabrina up in his arms and carried her to their bed. She laughed, carefree for the first time in ages as he set her on her feet so he could pull back the covers. Even in the dim light his sharp eyes could make out the stain.

Seeing his gaze, Sabrina stammered out. “I’m sorry, I washed most of it out.”

Brock captured her face in his hands. “No, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to harm you.”

Sabrina pulled him down to kiss him. “It’s okay. If you want to make it up to me you can do the laundry next time.”

“I can think of a better way to make it up to you,” he said huskily, pulling her clothes off and setting her down on the bed. He pushed her back down gently so her legs were hanging off the
edge as he knelt between them on the floor. She gasped in surprise as his fingers gently parted her folds and his tongue lapped at her entrance. Before she lost all conscious thought, she announced, “You’re still doing the wash.”

Chapte
r
17

H
eading to town early the next morning Sabrina was more embarrassed than ever. She blushed every time she looked at Brock’s smirking face. She brought tack cleaner with her, hoping it worked on wood as well as leather. She had found it in the barn along with some other tools. She planned to clean the piano after she dropped off her letter at the post. Since the train had come, it made mail delivery much faster.

The Swan was almost empty since it was still early in the day and she commandeered a nearby table to hold her tools as she worked. She opened up the top, tsking at the state the piano was in. It was about fifty years old and made by Appleton, Hayt & Babcock. Ironically, they were out of Boston, where Warren wanted to send her. It had warped a bit due to the humidity and it looked as if it had been a home for insects and rodents at some point. She was very glad that none of them lived there now. She borrowed an old paint brush from Mac and started sweeping up the dust and grime.

“How’s it going, Will?”  a deep voice asked and she stood up quickly, hitting her head on the piano lid. Cursing, she stared angrily at Thomas who apologized instantly for scaring her. He tried to look at her head but she swatted him away.

“I’m fine,” she hissed checking the piano to make sure she did not damage it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you---at least let me buy you lunch.”

She hesitated at that. She knew that Mac or Brock would feed her but she did not like being a burden to them all the time. Moreover, it was Thomas’ fault that she had hit her head.

“Oh, all right,” she assented reluctantly. Smiling brightly at her, he headed to the counter to order. 

He came back and sat down next to her as they waited for their food. Her head still throbbed and she put her hand up to rub it, hoping to ease the pain. Thomas stood up instantly to check out the injury. She sighed and gave in. She was getting a headache and did not feel like arguing with him. His hands thoroughly checked every inch of her head and even her neck before she pulled away.

“Am I gonna live?”  she asked sarcastically.

“Oh yes,
” he assured her as Mac brought their food over.

She ate quickly so she could get back to work on the piano. The food was very good and seemed to be helping her headache fade. The door opened and a familiar figure filled the doorway. He nodded in her direction before heading to the bar in back to order lunch. He spoke to Mac for a short while and headed over to their table. Thomas motioned for him to join them and received a grateful smile from Sabrina.

“You okay? Mac said. “You bumped your head pretty hard.”

“It was my fault,” said Thomas. “I surprised him.”

“I’m just dandy.”

Brock looked at her questioningly. “You sure about that?”

“I’m fine,” Sabrina said. She was getting really annoyed by all of the attention. Brock’s food soon arrived and she was grateful for the distraction. He and Thomas struck up a conversation as she ate her meal. Brock was asking him about a patient. A man had gotten his arm caught up in a machine at the mill. Thomas was explaining in grave detail how they had to remove his limb due to the damage. The conversation was making her lose her appetite.

Sabrina pushed her plate back and she started packing up her cleaning items. She would have to come back tomorrow and work on it. When she bent over, all the blood rushed to her head, causing it to throb. It was going to take a lot of work to get the piano in playing order. Since it was not working anyway, she stored her items under the lid to clear off Mac’s table. She nodded to the men, waved goodbye to Mac and headed outside to where she had tied Justice.

Missing the solitude of the river, she headed for her tree and let Justice graze nearby. The water was always soothing to her. Settling down on the ground, she sat watching the ripples dance across the surface. That, with the low roar of the distant waterfall, was mesmerizing. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there enjoying the crisp chill in the air. She became aware of a shadow blocking out the afternoon sun and looked up, slightly alarmed.

Brock sat down next to her.

“You okay?” he asked in concern, not just referring to her sore head.

“I just have a lot on my mind is all,” she said, still having to look up at him even though they were both sitting. “I don’t know; it just seems weird is all. I mean everything seemed like normal today until you came in. Then I felt…different.”

“Different how?”  he asked as she lapsed back into silence.

Finally she said, “It’s hard to explain, I mean you treated me no different than before you found out I was a girl. But, it bothered me. I wanted you to acknowledge me. To treat me like you do when we are alone together. I know that all of this is entirely my fault---that you are just doing what I asked you to do. Still, I guess what I’m saying is that maybe I’ve been wrong. I’m tired of pretending and I’m not sure how to set things right.”

Brock felt the urge to draw her into his arms so he did. He hugged her close and kissed her forehead.  “Why don’t you go home and we’ll work it out together?” She nodded as he stood up, pulling her up with him. She headed off on Justice as he returned to his duties.

Sabrina was in the house cooking when Brock walked in later that day. She was checking her boiling pot of potatoes to see if they were tender enough to start mashing. She was surprised when Brock walked up behind her and encircled her with his arms.  Pulling her back against his chest, he leaned down to kiss her cheek. Sabrina settled back into his arms, seeking his strength, and he turned her around to face him as he pulled her away from the stove.

He still held her tightly against his body, her every curve melding into his.  He whispered into her ear.  “I can’t take much more of this pretending either. Every time I see you in town.  I just wanna do this…” Brock said. Pulling her head back with one hand and bringing his mouth down to hers, he kissed her deeply. Sabrina gasped into his mouth as she kissed him back; his other hand pulled her tightly against him and she could feel his hardening groin.

She placed her hands on his firm shoulders for support as her knees weakened. Caught up in the moment she barely realized
she had moved as he guided her down to his bed. Whereas before he had always been slow and gentle when they made love, this time he took her hard and fast. Sabrina could do nothing but hold on for the ride as she gasped for breath. He pulled away from her trembling body a short time later kissed her gently, and went to finish supper.

Too tired to carry on a coherent conversation, she fell asleep soon after eating. She figured it was only fair for Brock to clean up as well as cook since he stole all of her energy.