Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier] (29 page)

He was a careful lover and held her as if she were a prize beyond value. Kissing her hungrily, but choosing not to be too intimate, his hand moved down over her hips and up her side to the fullness of her breast and back again in a slow caress. His lips eased the pressure to nibble at her lips and she nibbled his in turn. Her arms tightened. Her full breasts pressed to his chest, her nipples achingly peaked. Slowly, she twisted, rubbing her hard-tipped breasts against him. A sweet agony burned between her thighs. He trembled and helplessly moved his erection against her, increasing the marvelous contact.

The kisses changed, becoming more intense as his aching flesh pressed hungrily against the softness of hers. The lusciousness of her mouth drove him to taste her inner lips, his tongue moved restlessly along the sharp edge of her teeth while his hand caressed the soft, rounded flesh of her hips. Katy moved urgently against him, stirred by strange and wonderful feelings.

My God! This sweet, responsive woman was his! Rowe’s love for her grew, blossomed, bloomed until it was all consuming. She was a treasure, a rare flower. She was his Nightrose, his soul mate. The precious bundle in his arms was the only thing in the world that mattered. Everything else faded into a void. How had he lived almost thirty years without her?

Her hips moved, pressing against his. Rowe’s flesh quivered with the force of the desire that raced from his head to the soles of his feet. Reason returned. This wasn’t the time to join his body to hers. He wouldn’t take his pleasure of her now and give her cause for regrets later. When it happened, he was going to make it the most beautiful experience of her life.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got to stop while I can,” he said, turning his lips away from her clinging ones. “I’m just a breath away from coming inside you to put out this fire that’s about to consume me.”

Katy opened her eyes to look at him. They were dreamy and trusting and innocent. The way she had melted into his kiss was achingly sweet. He found himself wanting to hold onto this tiny minuscule in time.

“Is that why you’re shaking?” Her hand moved up and down, over the corded muscles of his arm and shoulder, pausing at the base of his neck.

“Yes, sweetheart, it is. I’m not made of stone.” He watched her face, her eyes. “I want to mate with you. God, I’ve never wanted anything as much in my life, but I can wait until after we’re married. I want you to come to me freely, not because I’ve compromised you.”

Katy cupped his cheek with her palm. “Oh, Rowe. I don’t know if I can give my life over to you as completely as you want. I have dreams of my own and they don’t include living a hand-to-mouth existence in a town like Trinity. If I marry you it will mean that I must go where you go and do what you want me to do. I’ve seen what that’s done to my sister.”

“We will go where
we
want to go and do what
we
want to do. It will be Katy and Rowe, Rowe and Katy. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and your safety and happiness will be more important to me than my life. If you want to go back East, we’ll talk about it and decide together. I’ll tell you my dreams and you tell me yours. I love you, Katy. I’ve loved you since the beginning of time. I could bear losing you easier than I could stand by and see you unhappy.”

Katy moved her arms around his neck and reverently kissed the corner of his mouth. The words he had whispered so urgently had a familiar ring to them. He was so dear and familiar. She placed her lips on his and kissed him gently. Her eyes, when they looked into his, were brilliant with laughter, holding his gaze with mischievous bondage.

“I’m stubborn and like to have my own way. When I don’t get it I throw a temper fit,” she whispered.

“I’m pushy and I’ll want to know where you are every minute of the day.”

“If I ever find out you’ve been with another woman, I’ll bash your head.”

“I’m jealous of any man who looks at you. I want to punch him in the nose.” His face was a mixture of astonishment and delight. He pinched her bottom.

“Yeooo . . .” she choked off a yelp and tickled his ribs. “I fly off the handle at the drop of a hat.”

“I have a temper too. Ask Hank and Anton.”

“We should have an exciting life together . . . if I don’t knock you senseless before I get used to your overbearing ways.” The laughter he loved bubbled up.

“We’ll be happy together, but I may have to beat your behind regularly to keep you in line.” The radiance of his smile touched her heart.

He kissed her nose. She kissed his lips. They lay quietly, looking at each other. Her mouth couldn’t keep from smiling. His eyes shone into hers. It was magical to lie with their arms locked around each other, their minds attuned. She laughed with pure pleasure.

“I love to hear you laugh. Promise me you’ll laugh every day for the next ten thousand years.” He leaned over her to rest on his forearms and kiss her mouth again and again.

“Make it twenty thousand, and I’ll consider it.”

“Get out of bed, lazy woman. This is your wedding day.” He kissed her laughing mouth lingeringly and eased her out of his arms.

Katy watched him go to the wardrobe and take out a clean shirt.

“I wish Mary and Theresa were here.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.”

“Rowe! We can’t get married today. I don’t have anything to wear.”

“What you wore last night looked mighty fine to me, but if there’s anything in this town you want, you only have to point your finger at it.”

“We’re not married yet, Mr. Rowe. It’s not decent for an unmarried woman to allow a man to buy clothes for her. I’ll buy my own dress, thank you.”

Rowe reached for his boots. “I can see that I’m going to have my hands full managing you. You’re going to have to get it through your pretty head that what I have is yours and what you have is—”

His words were cut off by an urgent rap on the door.

Eighteen

Katy slid quickly off the bed taking the cover with her. Her eyes met Rowe’s as she wrapped the bedsheet around her. The rap came again.

“What’ll we do?” she whispered urgently. “It could be Mara Shannon! What in the world will she think of me?”

“It may be Beulah.”

“This early? It’s barely daylight.”

“I’ll stand behind the door,” he whispered, picking up his bedroll and stuffing it beneath the bed. “If it’s Mrs. Gallagher, she’ll not come in when she sees that you’re not dressed.”

The knock sounded for the third time. Katy pulled the sheet around her and went to the door, glancing once again at Rowe as she turned the key in the lock. Standing close to the door, her hand raised to knock again, was a pretty, stylishly dressed woman a few years older than Katy. Her hair was blond, her eyes blue, her face very pale. She opened her mouth and then closed it without having said anything.

“Yes?” Katy murmured with brows raised.

“I’m . . . sorry. I thought this was Garrick Rowe’s room.” The woman turned quickly and hurried back down the hallway.

A desperate unknown fear knifed through Katy and froze her vocal cords for several seconds. Anger thawed them. She was able to speak, barely.

“He’s here,” she called. “
Mister
Rowe is here if you wish to speak to him.”

The woman turned and came slowly back toward the open doorway. She was very pretty, a soft, biddable-looking lady who looked as if she had never known hardship. The thought flashed through Katy’s mind that Rowe’s taste in women was not restricted to one type. Nan Neal was one type, this woman another, herself yet another.

Anger and jealousy flared. Katy flung the door back with a force that bounced it off the toes of Rowe’s boots.

“You have company, Mr. Rowe,” she said tightly. “If you will step out into the hall and give me privacy to dress, I’ll give you privacy to entertain your guest.”

Rowe stepped around from behind the door and stared at the woman who stared back at him.

“Helga?”

“Hello, Garrick. May I . . . speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course. Come in.”

Helga hesitated. She looked at the stiff back of the woman who had answered the door. Resentment was in every line of her body. “I’m sorry if I came at an inopportune time.”

“It’s all right. Come in.”

“I would . . . like to speak to you . . . in private.”

“If you’ll give me time to dress, I’ll be more than happy to vacate the room and give you all the privacy you want.” Katy turned and glared at Rowe.

He reached out a hand, drew Helga into the room, and closed the door. He turned to meet Katy’s furious eyes.
The little wildcat was jealous!
The smile that lit his eyes threatened Katy’s control and she wanted to hit him.

“Katy, I’d like for you to meet my sister-in-law, Helga Rowe. Helga, this is Katherine Burns, my fiancée. We’re being married today. Katy is a very proper lady. She used my room last night, and now she’s madder than a hornet because you caught me in it.”

Katy’s jaw went slack, and her eyes went from Rowe’s sloe-eyed look of gleeful satisfaction to the woman’s worried blue eyes. Katy felt both relief and embarrassment, if it were possible to feel both at once. Her shoulders slumped and a grin tilted the corners of her mouth.

“All I can say is that I’m very good at putting my foot in my mouth. I’m afraid I’m inclined to jump to conclusions where Rowe is concerned. You see we’ve only known each other for eighteen centuries.” Katy stuck her hand out from under the sheet. “How do you do?”

“Ah . . . well . . . how do you do?” Helga said hesitantly. “Please don’t be distressed on my account.”

“Rowe couldn’t find another room last night and slept here on the floor—”

“Katy, love—” Rowe chastised gently. “You know we’ve been on the bed for the past hour.”

“Dammit, Rowe. Will you kindly stop making things look worse than they are!” Her mouth tightened angrily, and she looked at the ceiling as if praying for deliverance.

Rowe’s soft chuckle stopped abruptly when he glanced at Helga and saw her fingers gripping her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white; her lips quivered, and she looked as if she were about to cry.

“Sit down, Helga. I heard you and Justin were in town.”

“We’ve only been here a few days.”

“Is something wrong, Helga?” Rowe asked gently.

“Well . . . ah . . . I don’t have much time.”

“Does Justin know you’re here?”

“No! Oh, heavens, no! He’s asleep, or was when I left him.” She glanced at Katy and then down at the floor.

“Helga, you needn’t worry about Katy. From this day on, what I know, Katy will know,” Rowe said gently. “Tell us what’s troubling you. If I can help you, I will. You should know that.”

Helga gripped Rowe’s arm. “I think . . . Justin is planning to have you killed.”

Rowe’s eyes flicked to Katy when he heard her indrawn breath. He saw the fear in her eyes and silently cursed the fact that she had to hear this on her wedding day.

“Helga.” Rowe placed his hand on her arm. “This is nothing new to me. I’ve known for some time Justin would kill me if he could. Is that why he came to Montana Territory?”

“He said that there were men in this town who would kill their own mothers for a price.”

“He’s right. But when he gets mixed up with that sort, he’s in more danger than I am. Men like that will turn on him if he crosses them, and they will be vicious.”

“I’ve never understood why he hates you so much. It’s an obsession with him.”

“We both know it’s because of my mother. Preston Rowe dared to mix his pure Nordic blood with that of a Greek woman. I am the result.”

“The only reason Justin married me is that my ancestors were pure Caucasian. He’s told me that many times. He’s proud of our son because he’s so fair.”

“Helga, I know Justin had the Pinkertons on me. Was killing me his only reason to come here, or does it have something to do with the mine at Trinity?”

“I don’t know. Something is driving him. Yesterday he was in a mood I’ve never seen before. He had a letter, and he must have read it a dozen times. I don’t know when he got it or what was in it, but it seemed to depress him terribly.”

“Did you try to find it after he went out? I saw him in the mercantile.”

“Was he the man in the gray hat?” Katy asked.

“Yes, sweetheart, he was. Justin always wears gray.”

“He looked at me as if he hated me,” Katy exclaimed. “I’ll never forget the expression in his eyes.”

“I didn’t dare look for the letter, Garrick,” Helga said, twisting the purse in her hands. “He has laid little traps for me before. A thread, a hair, a little dusting of powder. I don’t dare prowl through his personal things.”

“I understand. Helga, does Justin abuse you physically?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed, desperately hoping she sounded convincing. “Garrick, he wants to ruin you. He’s very upset that you’ve got your mother’s share of Preston Rowe’s money. He knows about the lumber mill and the permit to cut trees.”

“How did he find out about that?”

“Someone from the bank. A man who dislikes you because you refuse to allow him to work on your accounts.”

Rowe swore under his breath. “Oscar Gable. The son of a bitch!”

“Justin mentioned breakdowns and . . . fires. Be careful, Garrick.”

“Helga, I’ve thought for a long time that my half brother is a little mad. Do you want to get away from him?”

“No. I couldn’t. I can’t leave my son.”

“If I could manage to find a place where Justin couldn’t find you, would you go?”

“He’d find me. Then he’d never let me see . . . Ian again. Besides, I have no way of supporting us.”

“I can do that. Ian is my nephew.”

“Thank you, Garrick, but not now. Perhaps later when we get back home and I know Ian is safe. The woman who takes care of him works only for Justin. I don’t dare cross him.” She turned to the door. The thought crossed her mind to tell him about her husband’s visit to the house on the hill and his strange behavior afterward, but she didn’t think she could bear the humiliation. “I must go. He told me not to leave the hotel.”

“I appreciate the warning. Katy and I will go back to Trinity. I’d hate to have to kill my own brother, but I will if he attacks me or mine. Anton Hooker, my partner in the lumber business, will be here. He has a room at the National House on Jackson Street. If you need help, go to him. Remember the name, Helga: Anton Hooker. He knows about Justin.”