“Oh! Right!”
Fire burned on her cheeks as she hurried to put on her clothes. She retreated into a shadowy corner and fumbled her way into them. For some reason, they didn’t seem to fit as they did before. In fact, nothing felt right, as if her experience the night before had altered her in some way and she didn’t know how to move about in her new skin.
The cellar door opened, flooding the room with bright light.
Scharlie
held up a hand to shield her eyes, blinking at the intensity as the darkness scattered.
“
Scharlie
?” asked Sheriff Tanner.
She stepped forward, letting the warmth of the sunlight bathe over her. She smiled and started climbing the stairs. Hands reached out to help, and she realized that there were several other people waiting for her, helping to rescue her. Tom Kern helped steady her over the debris of what used to be her kitchen.
Scharlie’s
mouth fell open as she finally saw the devastation of her home. The kitchen was nothing but a pile of splintered timber and broken glass. The heavy cast-iron stove lay about four feet from where it had originally been, mostly intact except for the vent covers and the flue. The rest of the house had been spared, but the wind and rain had damaged much of the interior, and
Scharlie
knew it was going to take a while for her to get her house straightened out.
Lost to the saddened sight around her, she almost forgot about Cassidy and Garrett until she heard their boots hit the cellar steps and Sheriff Tanner draw his gun.
“It’s okay, Sheriff,” she assured. “They saved my life. I would have gone to try to protect the animals, but they got me safely inside the cellar before the twister hit.”
She saw the sheriff release his gun and holster it back, but the tenseness in his shoulders never quite relaxed.
“And you two are…?” The sheriff hedged.
“I’m Cassidy Brooks, and this is Garrett Webb.”
“Friends of
Harlow
,”
Scharlie
added. “They came to tell me that—”
Her voice failed. She didn’t want to say it out loud because if she did, then it would be real. It would be beyond her ability to pretend that it had never happened, that
Harlow
would be coming home, someday.
“
Scharlie
?” Sheriff Tanner prodded.
She cleared her throat. “That he, ah, was killed.”
Silence descended among the three rescuers. Tom and the sheriff took off their hats.
“Mighty sorry,
Scharlie
,” Sheriff Tanner expressed. His eyes softened.
“How?” Tom asked.
“He was shot,” Cassidy said, but offered nothing more. Thankfully, Tom didn’t press for more information.
Scharlie
walked in a daze through the debris of her kitchen. The bright sunshine almost made a mockery of her home. She left all the men behind as she walked through the house, her eyes falling on broken objects and destroyed furniture. She found
Harlow
’s tin soldier in a corner and picked it up to study it. The little toy was unharmed, and she put it in her pocket to safeguard it.
She exited out the front door, leaving it open, and saw that her barn was gone, along with her animals. In fact, the only one she saw was a chicken that had been staked on a broken piece of wood that protruded from the base of where the barn had been. Tears welled up in her eyes.
She wiped impatiently at her cheeks. She had a little bit of savings, enough to replace the animals. Her stove looked well enough to save, and if she downsized her kitchen, then she had just enough, probably, to cover the costs of repairs. Thank God the majority of the house had been spared.
Hands came to rest on her shoulders. Cassidy had come up behind her to also survey the damage.
“Garrett and I will help you rebuild,” he told her solemnly.
She stiffened and pulled away.
“I don’t need your pity.”
He spun her around. “It’s not pity.”
“A promise to my murdered brother?” she snapped.
“Why are you angry?”
“Look around, Cassidy!” she ordered scathingly, spreading her hands. “In the past seventy-two hours, my life has turned upside down! It’s a little hard for me to take in and remain even tempered!”
She stared at him, breathing heavily, her emotions bubbling right under the surface. She didn’t know if she should cry or yell or stamp her foot. She felt potent rage without a way to vent.
An uneasy silence descended over the group as they just watched her. Cassidy and Garrett, the sheriff, and Tom awkwardly shifted feet, not knowing how to deal with a temperamental female.
Finally, she snapped. Turning her back on them, she stomped over to a pile of splintered wood and picked up boards, throwing them haphazardly to nothing in particular, just using it as a way to drain her frustration. She watched with tiny amounts of satisfaction as each piece of wood landed on the ground in haphazard ways. Just like her home, broken, jagged, and splintered in ways that would never go back together in quite the same way.
And she was frustrated. Bitter, vexed, and wrathful, for a moment,
Scharlie
allowed herself to wallow in self-pity. Life had dealt her a bad hand. Her father had died young, a heart attack while working the land. Her mother had turned to the first man who comforted her, a mean soul who had watched young
Scharlie
in a predatory way. He had cut her face when she had defended herself from his unwanted advances.
Harlow
had gone after him, beaten him, accidentally killing their stepfather and forcing him to leave
Missouri
. And now, everything was gone. What more could be taken from her? What more must she endure?
The last question echoed through her mind as her anger drained.
Scharlie
collapsed, tears flowing freely down her face. Strong hands picked her up and cradled her against a hard chest.
Scharlie
curled into Garrett’s warm frame, his heartbeat steady and comforting through her sadness. He walked away from the others, leaving behind the scene of her devastation.
Chapter Seven
Garrett walked with her in his arms until he came to a small stream. Though it wasn’t a significant amount of water, it did provide a wonderful bank to sit upon and relax in seclusion around the tall oak trees. He sat and folded her into his lap. Little by little, the bubbling brook soothed her nerves, and her shoulders relaxed as her tension eased.
Garrett’s hand rubbed the back of her neck. “Feeling better?”
“Yes. This is actually my favorite place to come when I’m feeling troubled.”
“Like now?”
“Precisely.”
“Cass is right,
Scharlie
. We’re not here out of pity.”
“Then why are you here?”
He hesitated for a moment then said, “For you.”
She leaned back to look him in the eyes. “Why am I having a hard time believing you?”
He sighed. “To you, Cass and I are nothing more than strangers. But to us, it seems like we’ve always known you.
Harlow
always talked about you.”
“So you said.” She ran a weary hand over her face. “I wish I could talk to him one last time.”
“The Chinese believe that the soul never dies,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “And that burning paper provides material goods for the person who died. If you like, we can have a celebration to honor
Harlow
and send him everything he needs in his afterlife.”
With tears clogging her throat, she nodded and tried to give him a thankful smile, but it only came out wobbly and one-sided. Garrett, however, seemed to understand her appreciation. He patted her knee comfortingly.
They sat for a while like that, just listening to the brook and the wind swishing through the trees. The sky was a clear blue with fluffy white clouds scattered about. The day was peaceful after the horrendous storm of the day before. Memories danced in and out of her thoughts, images of the night before, and a blush stole over her cheeks.
“Can I ask you a question about Cassidy?” she asked. He nodded. “Does he have a problem?”
“Problem?”
“You know, last night. He didn’t…well, he just didn’t.”
“Engage in the sex? Cass likes to be in control.”
She thought about that for a moment. “But he likes women, right?”
Garrett laughed. “Yes,” he said through his chuckles. “Most definitely. But he likes watching more than being a direct participant when there are three of us.”
“Does he watch often?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes he likes to go off by himself with a woman.”
“Is it always like that? You know, what happened between us. I felt…”
Her voice died off because she simply couldn’t describe the feeling that had overwhelmed her. She had felt like the world had shifted on its axis and she had fallen off it.
“I know,” Garrett said softly. “And no, finding someone who makes you feel like that is almost impossible. Don’t get me wrong, sex for the sake of sex is great. It feels wonderful. But when a connection is made, it makes everything else fade in comparison. Any other woman, or man, drains away. Forgotten.”
She bit her lower lip with her white teeth. “But two of you and one of me doesn’t really bode well for a connection, does it?”
“Honey, we’ve had a connection since before we met.”
Scharlie
cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, waiting.
“Whether or not you think we were just fooling around, well, that simply wasn’t so.” His hand moved into her hair and pulled her head back until her throat was open and exposed. He pressed his lips to the tender skin. “I would dream of you,
Scharlie
. Surrounded by red lotus and peony flowers, draped in red-and-gold silk. We would love, laugh, become one.” He kissed his way to the shell of her ear. “I want you, more now since I’ve tasted you.”
“Here?” she asked, almost breathless. “In the daylight?”
“Exposed.” He moved her body until her legs straddled his hips. “I want to bury into you while the heavens watch, while the Jade Emperor gives his blessing. Now, oh, right now,
Scharlie
.”
He brought her head up and crashed his lips against hers. He kissed her deeply, slipping his tongue into her mouth while he traced the contours of her face with his fingers.
Scharlie
felt something deep inside explode with excitement. He wrapped her legs around his waist tightly as she meshed her fingers in his hair. She met his kiss with equal ferocity, a woman suddenly born with a need she never realized existed before. The ache inside intensified, grew, spreading throughout her whole body and making her hips gyrate against his.
His fingers pulled at her shirt, all finesse gone. She helped him as much as possible without breaking apart their lips, anxious to feel his hands on her breasts. As he found her nipples, tweaking them, she smuggled her hands inside his shirt, popping a button free. His chest was smooth to the touch, muscular, and she delighted in the wicked sensation of touching each other as a cool breeze wafted over them.
The sounds of nature were all around. The bubble of the brook, the call of birds, even the rough-hewn texture of the tree bark behind them, all of it intensified the rawness of their passion. When touching and kissing weren’t enough, they quickly moved clothing around until Garrett’s cock stood tall and free, dripping with need.
Scharlie
had read things in the book she could do with her mouth, but right now she wanted to feel him inside her, to feel that huge hardness sliding in, filling her, making her complete.
Moving her skirt aside, Garrett slid one finger over her clit, teasing it, before sailing into her pussy. He started a rhythm moving in and out, only shallow depths that mocked the fierceness of his cock. She wanted more, much more.
“Please,” she whispered.
“What,
Scharlie
? Tell me what you want,” he coaxed.
“I want you inside,” she said.
“Say it,
Scharlie
. Say you want my cock in your pussy. You want me to take you until you come.”
She opened her eyes. Her hips rocked against his fingers, urging him to go faster or deeper or do something more. But he resisted, his eyes remaining impassive to her plea.