They left a half dozen men camped on the ridge and headed home. Kora wanted to ride double with Win, but he didn’t offer and she wasn’t about to ask. They were all exhausted. Kora and Jamie headed toward the settlement to pick up Logan while Win and Cheyenne rode with the men toward home.
As they crossed Win’s land, Jamie sat beside her sister in the wagon.
‘‘Cheyenne’s not speaking to me again,’’ she mumbled. ‘‘I swear, why’d he bother to save me if he’s not going to notice I’m alive? I hate him with every bone in my body.’’
Kora didn’t comment. She couldn’t force Cheyenne to like her sister. The man had a right to his own opinion.
‘‘Maybe Wyatt will come back,’’ Kora finally said, hoping to change the subject. ‘‘Win said he’d send a man south next spring to offer to help restock his herd.’’
‘‘I don’t care if his does.’’ Jamie pulled her skirts up above her knees. ‘‘Right now I don’t care about much of anything but a bath and a bed.’’
Jamie slapped the team into action. They circled by the settlement, picked up a grumpy Logan, and headed slowly home. When they reached the main house, no one was around, but there were signs that someone had been. The bunkhouse cook had put out a spread of food. He said Win had hit home issuing orders like someone special was coming to visit. He wanted a meal on the table and about a hundred other things done before Kora returned, then he up and disappeared riding toward town.
‘‘I wish he’d told me where he was going, or when to expect him back.’’ Kora knew her words sounded like a complaint, but she was too tired to remain silent.
‘‘What?’’ Jamie chimed. ‘‘And break a perfect record? I may stay around a while longer just to see you whip him into shape. He’s not overly friendly, but he does grow on a person. At least he’s brave and honest and never goes back on his word. But I’m not promising to stay long.’’
‘‘For a while then.’’ Kora smiled.
THIRTY-FOUR
KORA STEPPED INTO THE SUNNY WARMTH OF HER COLORFUL bedroom. After a night of trying to sleep in a wagon bed, the space looked like a slice of heaven. The quilts welcomed her as they shone in the sunlight. In the center of the room awaited a hip tub already filled with water. Her robe and a towel lay over the chair by her writing table.
Smiling with delight, she stripped off her dirty clothes and sank into the cool water.
‘‘He does care,’’ she whispered, knowing Win had set the bath up for her. Most of the time he might seem to think only of the ranch, but he had made several trips getting this ready for her.
After washing her body and hair, she barely had enough energy left to slip into her undergarments before she curled atop the quilt that covered their bed and fell asleep.
It was late afternoon when she felt someone touching her hand. Opening her eyes, she saw Win standing by the bed. He held one of her hands in both of his.
‘‘Hello,’’ she whispered, noticing his hair was still wet from being washed. ‘‘You look like my husband, but you can’t be. My husband smells like trail dust most of the time.’’
‘‘You look like my wife, but my wife would never be so lazy as to sleep during the day.’’ He lifted her hand. ‘‘But you must be her, because you’re wearing a wedding band that matches mine.’’
Kora leaned up suddenly and pulled her hand from his. Sure enough, on her left hand was a wide gold band that matched the shiny gold one on his finger.
‘‘You didn’t have to-’’ she started.
‘‘I know, it wasn’t part of the bargain.’’ He rolled into bed beside her. ‘‘But then neither was the way we make love.’’
He moved his fingers gently down her back and over the silk covering her hips. ‘‘Did you enjoy your bath?’’ His hand continued to stroke her.
She relaxed to his touch. ‘‘Yes,’’ she whispered as she stretched beside him, allowing him to move her arms and legs as he continued to touch her.
‘‘I wish I’d made it back in time to watch,’’ he mumbled between light kisses.
Gently he rolled her to face him, and moved her leg around his waist, pulling her close against him at the waist. Then he leaned her head back over pillows. For a long moment he watched her, then lightly he traced his fingers down her throat.
Kora closed her eyes as his hand slid over the silk of her camisole, touching her breasts, circling along her abdomen, and gently moving between her open legs.
‘‘You come to me so easy, Kora,’’ he whispered as he repeated the action. ‘‘You drive me mad with need.’’
She arched her back, pressing against him with her legs and straining the silk across her breasts.
He slid his hands up her thighs and pulled her tighter against him, fitting her to his need. Then he lowered his mouth and tasted her full breasts through the silk. As always, at first his hunger was rough, pulling against her tender flesh, demanding, starving.
She sighed and tried to roll away from the tidal wave of passion and need. But his hands on her legs held her to him and his mouth tasted full of her flesh. Then, slowly, like a hungry man who’d reached the banquet, he slowed, enjoying each touch.
‘‘Don’t pull away from me, darlin’,’’ he whispered. ‘‘I want all of my wife tonight.’’
She relaxed once more as his touch turned tender. He slowly unlaced her undergarments one ribbon at a time so that he could enjoy her slowly. He stopped for a long while, enjoying the sight of her camisole open to her waist and pulled wide enough apart that only the peaks of each breast were covered. Her underpants were pushed low over her hips so that his hand could cross back and forth in wide strokes below her waist, then circle back to caress her hips.
‘‘I love watching you like this,’’ he whispered as his fingers brushed the silk completely from her breasts. ‘‘I thought of it all last night and all day today.’’
She could feel his wedding band sliding along her skin as he pushed the garment aside.
Now his hands roamed over her, molding her with his need. He covered her hips with his touch and pulled her against him, rocking her to him as he kissed her throat. She hadn’t said a word, his silent wife; she didn’t have to. She brought him all the beauty and passion he could hold.
She felt her body growing warm, alive with feeling. Sighing softly, she leaned back, allowing him to lower his mouth once more to her chest.
His hand moved down as he kissed her. She felt his fingers slide inside her.
When she tried to pull away, he held her tightly, not removing his hand. ‘‘Easy,’’ he whispered against her skin. ‘‘I’m not going to hurt you, darlin’.’’
Without another word he kissed her again, drawing her into passion as she opened her mouth. His hand moved once more between her legs, and this time she didn’t try to pull away.
The third time he touched her, he was kissing her lightly on her waiting lips, but he wasn’t holding her to him at all. She could have pulled away from his probing hand, but she remained still.
He rewarded her with a deep kiss while his hand circled her breast. By the time he pulled away she was afire with desire and moving slightly against him, begging for more.
Laughing, he gave her what she wanted. Kissing her in all the places he’d tasted her the night in the study, driving her beyond all reason, pulling her into passion’s deep water.
Slowly, in the warm afternoon glow of sunlight, he made love to her. As he had in the study, his hands moved over her, touching each part of her body, readying it to be tasted. And as she had before, she set no boundaries.
There were no words of love, no whispered endearments, no promises voiced. Only the loving, pure and silent, as wave after wave of passion passed over her. When he entered her, he did so slowly, allowing her to accept him without pain.
