His Brother's Wife (30 page)

He blew out a frustrated
breath. He should have never touched her. She didn't belong here
and she'd prove it to him soon enough.

And she'd leave
him.

Jabbing the straw again,
he dragged out another fork full and tossed it over the rail to his
horse, taking his time about doing it.

The sound of the barn door
opening startled him and he whirled on his heel, shocked to see
Grace struggling with the door. She closed it and turned, smiling
when she saw him.

"Need some
help?"

Rafe stared. It's all he
could do. She was dressed in trousers and boots. Not her dainty
lace-up ones but men's work boots. Shit-kickers, as his pa used to
call them. They looked too big for her feet but she stood there as
if they were made just for her.

She wore his pa's old
coat, the material swallowing her tiny frame. She'd rolled the
sleeves up and tied a bit of material around her waist. Jesse's old
hat was on her head and as ridiculous as she looked, he'd never
seen a more becoming sight.

He grinned and propped the
pitchfork against the rail. "I see you've raided the spare
room."

She grinned. "I didn't
think a dress, even a plain calico, was suitable for barn
work."

"It's not."

Grace looked into the
first stall, her nose scrunching as she got a whiff of the stench
from old straw and manure and said, "I came to help. What can I
do?"

She came to help? Who was this woman?
Rafe chuckled and scratched his chin. "Depends.
What do you know how to do?"

"Nothing really." She
glanced in his direction, then walked to the next stall, looking
over the rail at Buttercup, their only milk cow. "I've not had
training to work on a ranch but I'm a quick study. Just show me
what to do and I'll get the hang of it."

She reached in, rubbing
Buttercup's nose and Rafe was amazed. She wanted to muck out stalls
with him? She couldn't be serious.

"Grace, go back into the
house." He shook his head, chuckled again and crossed to where she
stood. "This isn't a clean job. Trust me. You'll not want to do
even a seconds worth of work out here. Besides, I can do it. I have
been for months now. There's no reason for you to be out
here."

When she turned those
violet eyes on him, he was lost. "You're here. That's reason enough
for me."

Damn. He was well and
truly lost and he knew it. Smiling, he walked back across the barn,
grabbed the extra pitchfork and carried it to where she stood,
handing it to her. He went to the first stall, the one Jesse's
horse used, and swung the door wide.

Looking back at Grace, he
nodded to the stall with his head. "Scoop it all up and put it in
that bin," he said, pointing to the rolling barrel they used to
move the waste. "When you're finished, you have to lay new straw
before moving to the next stall."

She nodded her head and
walked past him into the stall as if it wasn't ankle high in
manure. The smell alone should have had her running but she leaned
over, grabbed her first fork full and dropped half of it trying to
get it into the bin, and keep going until a small section was
cleared away.

Rafe watched her for long
minutes, finally laughing and going back to what he was
doing.

He spent the next half
hour doing his own work and watching Grace. It took her twice as
long to clean that one stall than it should have but she was
nothing if not determined. When she'd cleaned out every lump and
strand of filthy straw, she asked where the clean bedding was. He
took her a new bale, cut the twin holding it together and left her
to it.

The entire morning was
spent mucking stalls, feeding the animals and watching Grace. He
didn't think she could amaze him more but every day showed him a
new aspect to her character. She may look like a high society lady
but deep down, she was as country as he was.

The thought made him
wonder if maybe he'd been wrong about her. That maybe she was
different than all the rest. That she would be content to live like
this and not leave him. That what little he had would be enough for
her.

As he watched her wipe a
bead of sweat from her forehead, that small voice in the back of
his mind whispered in agreement. Grace was different. She'd proved
it many times over now.

And every time she proved
him wrong, his admiration for her grew. As much as he'd loved
Maggie and Katie, it paled to what he felt for Grace. Watching her,
he knew he had the hardest decision of his life to make.

Did he risk his heart one
last time? And if he did, how did he tell his brother he was going
to marry the wife he'd sent away for?

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

The next five days were
the closest to perfect as any Grace ever experienced. She laid her
head down at night on Rafe's pillow, sighing in dreamy bliss as he
again showed her carnal pleasure she couldn't even imagine existed
and woke every morning with her body tingling, alive, and well
loved.

The man who showed himself
the day the snow storm hit was still there, still showering her
with love and attention, secret smiles and whispered words in the
dark she never thought to hear, and her heart grew with love for
him every time he looked at her.

Imagining the rest of her
life like this was too fantastic to fathom. Rafe hadn't asked for
her hand yet, or even said he loved her, but she knew it was
coming. It was just a matter of time.

As she did most days after
the cleaning was done, Grace retired to the parlor, her sewing
basket by the rocker next to the fire. She'd spent the last week
mending Jesse and Rafe's clothing, patching up rips and tears. She
heard the back door open and close, the usual sound of Rafe washing
up after tending the animals and the echo of his booted feet
hitting the floor filled the house.

She smiled at him when he
entered the parlor, watching him sit down on the sofa. He said
nothing, but stared at her until she felt her face heat. She
lowered the shirt in her hand and raised one eyebrow.
"What?"

"Do you like it
here?"

It was a strange question.
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't like it. I've enough money to stay
in town if I wished."

He stared at her for long
minutes before blowing out a long breath. "With Ben stealing most
of the cattle, we'll make next to nothing when we sell the
remaining herd." He glanced around the room, shook his head and
looked back over at her. "The house repairs will have to wait and
there won't be money left for things not needed. And unless we get
a proper garden started come spring, we'll probably starve before
next winter."

Why was he telling her
this? Her stomach quivered an instant before dread filled her. Was
the man she was looking at the old Rafe? The one who only wanted to
bed her? Was he trying to convince her to leave now?

Or was he trying to let
her know what it would be like if she stayed?

Grace's heart skipped a
beat.

"I can't give you what you
had in Boston, Grace. If I had my entire herd back, I'd still never
be able to give you what you had."

His voice was pitched so
low, she barely heard him over the crackle of the fireplace. "I
gave up that sort of life when I got on the train in Boston. I knew
things here would be different."

"Yes, but you thought you
were getting a rich rancher." He laughed, the sound bitter. "And
all you got was this." He extended his hands and looked around the
parlor again, shaking his head.

With her heart in her
throat, she laid the shirt she'd been working on aside and crossed
the room to him, stopping in front of him. He leaned forward,
wrapped his arms around her and laid his forehead to her stomach.
"You'll hate me outside of a year, Grace." He looked up, remorse
shining in his eyes. "Everyone does."

"I'm not everyone." She
laid her hand to his cheek. "And I could never hate you, Rafe
Samuels."

He didn't look as if he
believed her and she leaned down, kissing him, trying to show him
how much he meant to her. He pulled her forward to tumble against
him and with a rustle of fabric, she straddled his lap.

The kiss turned urgent and
demanding, Rafe tugging at the ribbon holding her braid together
until he loosened her hair, pulling the strands until they fell
freely down her back.

She broke the kiss,
unhooking the buttons on his shirt as he fumbled with those on her
dress. She slid the material off her shoulders once all the buttons
were undone, spent long minutes loosening the strings on her corset
and untied her chemise. When she was free from the confining
undergarments, the expression on Rafe's face as he watched her was
filled with silent expectation.

Bare from waist up, she
placed a hand on the back of his head, arching her back and
offering herself to him.

He wasted no time
accepting.

His hands were under her
skirts by the time he'd sucked one nipple into his mouth, pulling
at the tie holding her bloomers closed. He slid them down her hips,
wrapping one arm around her waist to lift her and continued tugging
and pulling until she lifted one knee from the sofa to help him get
them off. The entire time they struggled with her bloomers, he
never broke contact with her breast but he released her now, leaned
back and unhooked his pants, releasing his erection.

Grace looked her fill, the
embarrassment she'd felt the first time she saw him like this gone.
He was beautiful. His skin tanned a golden brown from years of
working in the sun and the muscle that moved under his flesh seemed
to dance just for her.

Small dark hairs swirled
around his navel and joined those nestled around his cock and Grace
reached down to touch him, watching his eyes close on a throaty
groan.

She manipulated his flesh
with her hand, raised her other to feel the texture of those tiny
hairs on his belly and kept watching his face.

When his breathing
increased, she released him, leaned up and slid onto his hardened
length one tiny inch at a time, sucking in a quiet breath as he
filled her.

The look of ecstasy on his
face was one she'd never forget. He guided her hips into a slow,
sensual rhythm, never taking his gaze from her face. Grace learned
quickly what he wanted and reached for his hands, pulling them from
under her skirts and placed them on her breasts.

He fondled and sucked her
taut nipples as she rode him, her hips rising and falling until
they were both panting for breath. When she felt the first
stirrings of sensation in her stomach signaling her release, she
whispered his name and pulled his head up to kiss him.

His hold on her tightened,
his hips rising to meet her own and long minutes later, they
climaxed together, their cries echoing through the
house.

They sat unmoving until
their bodies cooled. Grace eventually sat up, and they spent silent
minutes righting their clothing, Rafe helping with those tiny
buttons on her dress before she stood and fixed her bloomers. She
smiled when he climbed to his feet, wrapped her in his arms and
leaned down to kiss her.

Grace sighing into his
mouth. "I love you, Rafe."

His body stilled, his gaze
unmoving from her face. When he did nothing but stare at her, Grace
wondered if she'd made a mistake in blurting out her declaration.
Her cheeks heated and she broke eye contact with him and tried to
pull way. His hold on her tightened.

"Say it again,
Grace."

She looked back up at him.
The expression on his face was filled with doubt and Grace lifted a
hand, trying to smooth away the lines marring his forehead. "I love
you." When his body relaxed against her, she kissed him, once again
whispering, "I love you," against his mouth and didn't stop saying
it until she was sure he believed her.

A glass shattered nearby,
a yell so feral screeching across the room the hairs on Grace's
neck stood on end. She and Rafe both turned, a choked scream
filling Grace's throat as she saw Jesse standing at the entrance of
the parlor, his face red, his eyes full of hatred.