Harlot at the Homestead (9 page)

Catherine looked from the man to Rosie then back again. Rosie’s cheeks flushed crimson as if she’d stood too long in the sun and Catherine realized that this must have been the subject of her affections.

“Catherine,” Kenan broke the awkward silence. “This is Joshua Hampton. We’ve been on the same team on several cattle drives.”

Catherine smiled at Joshua as he took her hand and bowed over it.

“As you can see”—Kenan frowned in mock disapproval—“he’s quite the charmer.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Catherine inclined her head, keen to show good manners to the man who’d stolen Rosie’s heart.

“So you’re Catherine Montgomery?” Joshua’s curious eyes made her stomach flip. What had he heard about her?

“Yes,” Kenan broke in. “This is Miss Montgomery.”

“Well I’m mighty glad to make your acquaintance!”

Catherine stared at him, wondering if he was mocking her. She glanced at Rosie but her friend was smiling adoringly at Joshua. He must be genuine.

Kenan gently placed a hand in the small of her back. The heat of his touch seared through her dress and it seemed that his warmth spread out over her skin, healing and reassuring as it traveled. She wanted to feel his presence at her side always, to know that he was with her, supporting her and loving her every day until the sun set on the horizon. Kenan held the key to her happiness and she knew that if she lost him, it would remain forever locked.

“Catherine?” Kenan called her name. He pointed toward the others, who were moving through the room and toward an open door way off to the right. “They’re making their way outside. Are you okay?”

Tears stung her eyes and she had to blink hurriedly to clear them away.

“What is it? Are you sick?” He squeezed her elbow. When she looked up, his face was creased with concern.

“No.” She shook her head. “No, I’m okay. I was just thinking about you… I mean about us…I mean…how it could have been.”

“Hush, now.” He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss upon her lips. It was the gentlest brush of his skin against hers, yet her body responded instantly and she swayed toward him, planting her hands flat against his broad chest. The familiar fire began to burn in her belly and a shiver of desire ran up her spine.

“Let’s enjoy the evening, Catherine, and help the happy couple celebrate. There’s plenty of time to think on the past. Please try to enjoy the here and now.”

She inhaled deeply of his delicious masculine scent. It was as fresh and clear as the morning forests after heavy rainfall, when the sweet pine and fresh sage rose into the air and mingled with the aroma of the damp earth and the heady pollen of thousands of flowers. It lifted her spirits. Her heart beat faster and for a moment she felt as if she would faint. Not being able to inhale his scent, to touch his skin or to feel his heart beat beneath her hand would be too much to bear and she cursed destiny for stealing away the life she had longed for. It wasn’t fair! She had sacrificed her marriage and her plans and she had hurt the man she’d loved with all of her heart in the process. Having been parted from him once had been agony—a second time would be excruciating torment.

“Come on, you two!” Rosie called from the doorway, her eyes illuminated with love and excitement, optimism and hope. Though Catherine wished that she, too, had the same look in her eyes, she would not be jealous of Rosie’s joy. She breathed deeply and steeled herself to face the evening, whatever it might bring.

* * * *

The wedding ceremony passed in a flurry of solemn words and giggled promises. Kenan had sat close to Catherine on one of the benches laid out at the rear of the homestead. The low wooden seats had been placed in rows to create an aisle like that of a church. The Hamptons had gone all out for this celebration of their son’s joining in matrimony to the young woman he’d chosen to take to wife. She came from Virginia City. She was the daughter of the schoolmaster. Her father was well connected, though he lived modestly, and Rita-Mae Hudson was sure to inherit a substantial fortune one day. It made her a good choice for twenty-two year old Billy Hampton, though he looked as keen as mustard to be marrying the buxom wench.

Kenan estimated her to be about eighteen at most and by the looks of her, she was either a little plump or several months along with child. That would explain the shotgun wedding. It hadn’t been mentioned the last time he’d seen Joshua but evidently, Rita-Mae’s expanding waistline had brought it forwards.

He felt Catherine’s knee bump against his own and he nudged back. She slipped him a sideways smile. The evening air was warm and fragrant with the scent of the wild flowers that had been tied to the ends of the benches. The sun had almost set and the flattened lawn area was gently lit with kerosene lamps which hung from strategically placed posts. The bride and groom had walked along it together just twenty minutes ago and the guests had sighed with approval at the handsome young couple. When they’d passed, Kenan had stolen a glance at Catherine and been saddened to see a shadow passing over her face. She’d masked it pretty rapidly but it had hurt him to see it. Clearly, she was still in pain and grieved for what had been lost. Darn it, it made him furious to think about how it could have been and how that had all been taken away by a drunken old fool and a greedy son of a bitch shipping tycoon, but he wasn’t sure how to put it all right…or if it ever could be. All he knew for sure was that he loved Catherine and wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. He’d try not to think on what came after that. His soul was still too bruised by his desire for vengeance and the righting of wrongs to be healing—at least not yet.

He also wasn’t sure if he was thinking straight. His physical attraction to Catherine was so powerful that it reminded him of a steam train thundering along a track. It smoked and chugged, drowning out everything else with its noise and well stoked fire, oblivious to all sense and reason, impervious to the hoots of coyotes and the arrows of Indian warriors. Just being near her right now heated his blood and forced all rational thought from his brain. All he could think about was being with her, lying with her and taking her completely. In fact, he didn’t think he’d be able to wait until they made it home.

* * * *

Catherine sipped the
mulled cider slowly, forcing herself not to gulp it down. It was warm and spicy with cinnamon and she wanted to keep tasting it, filling her mouth with it until its potency numbed her senses and warmed her throughout.

Kenan had excused himself and Matthew was circulating amongst the other guests. It was a big wedding with about seventy guests in all but then the families had money and were keen to celebrate that fact.

“So, what do you think?” Rosie clinked her tankard against Catherine’s. “Isn’t it just the finest wedding you’ve ever attended?”

“I’ve not been to many.” Catherine frowned. “Most folks don’t have the means to make such a fandango about it.”

“That’s true,” Rosie agreed. “Last wedding I went to was in the small wooden church in Virginia City and there were ten at most there. The preacher was passing through and he had to complete six ceremonies before he moved on again. Most of the brides were, of course, expecting…”

Catherine smiled. At least a third of all young women getting hitched were carrying their first child. That was why when a preacher stopped in a town, he was often busy for twelve hours straight. Virginia City, however, had now secured her own man of the cloth and Reverend
Felshaw was happy to oblige those preferring to marry at their homesteads—providing they made a generous donation to his upkeep, of course.

Right now, the Reverend was filling his ruddy cheeks with the roasted hog that had been cooked on a turning spit over an open fire. He chewed and drank in turns, throwing back mulled cider like it was the elixir of everlasting life.

“Will it be you next then, Rosie?”

Rosie turned wide eyes to Catherine.

“Pardon?”

“Will you be the next Hampton bride?”

“I…” Rosie’s mouth hung open and Catherine felt instantly ashamed. She knew that her friend would have told her about any proposal. “I don’t know. I mean, it hasn’t been discussed.”

“Of course.” Catherine squeezed Rosie’s arm. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just hope that it will be. I long to see you happy.”

Rosie looked at Catherine for a long moment then took her face in her hands.

“That is what I want for you too, my friend, and for Kenan, of course.”

Catherine gazed into the amber eyes that were as warm and sincere as Kenan’s, yet softer and lighter. If only Rosie could have her wish but that would be more than Catherine dared hope for.

Chapter Eight

As the drinks flowed, the wedding party got into full swing. The benches were cleared away and the posts with the kerosene lamps were moved to create a wide circle. A few of the male guests went into the house then reappeared with musical instruments which they set about tuning before launching into a lively Irish jig. The bride and groom took to the floor and the guests and families laughed and clapped as the handsome young couple whirled around and around in time to the music. Before long, they were joined by other couples and soon the whole circle was filled with drunken, boisterous movement and laughter.

Catherine moved away from the circle and into the shadows where she stood and gazed at the joy before her. It was so good to see such innocent happiness, such carefree enjoyment. It lifted her own spirits and made her feel buoyant, like driftwood bobbing along on the river in the warm sunshine, though she knew that at any moment a cloud could cover the sun or she could hit a whirlpool and be dragged into the swirling depths and buried forever. It was knowing this that made her pleasure all the sweeter—because it was fleeting, temporary and fragile.

“Will you dance?” Kenan’s breath was hot against her cheek, his hands firm as he squeezed her shoulders.

“I can think of something that I’d prefer to be doing.” She laughed, the cider making her bold and amorous.

“Well in that case”–he took her hand then pulled her after him—“you’d better follow me.”

She hurried along behind him, leaving the hoots and hollers of the wedding party safely ensconced within the circle of lights. As they moved away, it grew darker and cooler and she welcomed the refreshing night air as it soothed her hot cheeks and gently dried the fine sheen of perspiration that had gathered above her top lip. She hadn’t realized how warm it had been around all of those people but now it was obvious and she was glad to be away from them.

Kenan stopped when they rounded a corner and were out of the sight of the wedding party. When he had checked that they were alone, he took hold of her and pushed her backwards against the side of the house. The sun had warmed the wood throughout the summer day and the logs now gave up some of that heat to Catherine, their warmth penetrating the thin material of her gown. It made her think of how Kenan warmed her with his presence and his attentions and how she absorbed his offerings, unable to generate her own heat like a tree cut down in its prime.

“You are so beautiful.” Kenan took her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger.

The full moon sat directly above them and Catherine imagined that it was looking down on them, wondering what their next move would be. She gasped as Kenan started to unbutton her dress. He slid each button slowly, yet deftly, from its hole and she held her breath in anticipation.

When her dress lay open to the waist, he slid his hands in and parted it so that her corset and chemise were exposed.

“Such big bouncy tits.” He licked his lips before lowering his head to her chest where he rubbed his face over the heavy mounds of her flesh. Her belly flipped with excitement and she grabbed the back of his head, pressing his face into her and moaning when he covered her erect nipples with his mouth and suckled them in turn through the gauzy material. He pulled first on one, taking it deep into his mouth and running his hot tongue over the tip, before turning his attention to the other one, until Catherine felt the flutter deep in her core that reminded her of that link between breast and womb.

He continued toying with her in this way and she felt her desire for him building inside her until she was so full of need that she believed she would explode. When he stopped for a moment to look into her eyes, she quickly slipped her damp chemise down over her breasts so that the rosy buds stood to attention in the moonlight and basked under the heat of Kenan’s gaze.

He leaned forward and kissed her whilst he moved his hands over her naked flesh, pinching and rolling her hard nubs between his fingertips until she didn’t know whether it was pleasure or pain that stirred the juices in her cunny.

“I need to take you,” Kenan mumbled between kisses.

Catherine massaged his tongue with her own then lowered her hands to his groin and caressed his bulging cock. It was hard and swollen beneath the material of his trousers and she could feel its energy, waiting to be released.

Kenan grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her round so that she faced the side of the house. “Like this,” he ordered, pushing her upper body toward the wooden wall so that her exposed bosoms grazed the logs. He kept one hand on her back so that she stayed in place while he popped open his trousers and freed his erection from his underwear. Catherine reached around to take him in her hand and she moaned at the size and girth of his excitement.

She held onto him and squeezed, sliding her hand backwards until she held him at the base and could cup his balls with her fingers. Her touch spurred him onwards and he lifted her skirts up around her waist then whipped her bloomers down. There was a moment’s pause then she felt a sharp twinge as Kenan gave her bottom a quick slap.

“Ouch!” she grunted in surprise rather than pain.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “I couldn’t resist. Your behind looks so pert and delicious in the moonlight that I just had to.”

“It’s okay.” She was aroused by his approval and curious at her own reaction.

Then her breasts met the wood full on as he shoved her forwards by the shoulders and she felt his rigid member pulsing next to the flesh of her bottom. The logs rubbed her naked chest, their bumps and grooves caressing her tender nipples like a rough and inexperienced lover. Kenan held her waist with one hand while he ran his manhood over the tops of her thighs then slipped it between them. As he pushed, she gasped, thinking that he would enter her behind.