Not the Marrying Kind (30 page)

“Just relax. It won’t hurt so much that
way.”

She let her breath out as he edged forward
and slowly slipped inside of her. Kat felt herself stretching, and
for a moment she worried he’d rip her asunder. She felt a burning
sensation as he pushed deeper into her.

“Joshua, I can’t!” Panic overtook her.
“You’re too big. It’s going to hurt too much.”

“Be still,” he whispered, lifting up to
brush a kiss to her forehead. “The hurting should be over
soon.”

Slowly, he moved within her, and even as he
spoke, the pain diminished. In its place came a pleasure even
greater than she’d given herself only moments before. His shaft
slid in and out, gliding over her wetness.

Kat clung to him, rocked with him, felt
herself suspended in time and space as his penetration deepened. He
seemed to touch her very soul.

Her body tightened, began to convulse around
him. She heard Joshua’s sharp intake of breath. He moved faster,
driving her once again to the pinnacle of pleasure, and arriving
there with her. His shaft pulsed and jerked inside her, spilling
his hot seed into her womb.

With a cry and a shudder, he collapsed
against her, breathing hard, their bodies both trembling from the
fiery passions that had been sated at last.

Kat closed her eyes and smiled. She was
truly a woman, and she was glad.

“Better get dressed, Kat.” Joshua’s voice
broke into her thoughts. She opened her eyes to see him standing
before her, her clothes in his hands.

“Yes, right.” Taking the clothes from him,
she gazed up into his eyes. Although she expected him to say
something more, he remained quiet as he turned and walked a short
distance away.

Was this how lovemaking ended? With silence
and separation? Kat’s mind reeled. What about love? After what
they’d shared between them, he obviously loved her, so why hadn’t
he spoken those words she so longed to hear?

It didn’t matter. She wanted him to declare
his love, but actions still spoke louder than words, and he’d
clearly shown her how much he cared, how much he wanted her. She’d
felt his love. She felt it still.

She felt love in the warmth of the morning
sun as its golden rays kissed the earth. She breathed in love from
the sweet, honeysuckle, clover, and sage scent in the summer air.
She heard the melody of love in the light, lilting song of the
meadowlarks.

“I’d better get back,” she told Joshua after
she’d dressed. He made no move to stop her, to convince her to wait
even a moment. He merely nodded.

She’d expected at least a kiss, but men
didn’t like demanding women. That’s one thing Lucille had taught
her, and like professions of love, a kiss of farewell wasn’t
necessary. Nothing would destroy the happiness she’d found with
Joshua that morning.

As she rode home, Kat wanted to reach out to
the sky, grab hold of it with both hands, and wrap it around
herself. Her heart beat with a crazy rhythm and she could barely
sit still in the saddle. She wanted to jump up, to shout with joy,
to race headlong down the hillside in a mad rush of excitement.

All because of Joshua.

“Kat? Is that you?” Mama called out when she
opened the back door.

“Yes, Mama. I’ve been out riding.”

“I thought maybe we could spend the morning
together. There are a lot of things you’ll need to learn, you
know.”

“Yes, of course.” She would do nothing to
arouse any suspicion. Pa could go right on thinking she would obey
his wishes and do exactly as she was told. In time, he’d realize it
was wrong for him to make decisions for her, wrong for him to force
her into a union she didn’t want. “I want to wash up first.”

“Good idea. You might want to put on one of
your good dresses, too.”

“Yes, Mama. I will.”

Kat filled the tin bath tub, then added a
few drops of the expensive rose oil Mama bought at the mercantile.
The fragrance wrapped around her in a mist of steam, and Kat
inhaled deeply. Settling into the tub, she closed her eyes,
grateful for the chance to unwind.

She scrubbed away every trace of her sexual
encounter, washing carefully between her thighs. Flecks of blood
stained the cloth, and she quickly rinsed them away.

Though your sins be crimson…

Familiar scriptures crowded into her mind,
bringing shame and guilt. She finished her bath, blotting out her
thoughts, then hurried to her room.

She needed peace and comfort.

Turning toward the wardrobe, she closed her
eyes and nodded. She’d put her Bible away after church on Sunday.
Lately, she hadn’t spent much time reading the Good Book or
studying God’s word.

Not since Joshua Barron had come riding into
her life. She’d forgotten God, forgotten her own father, forgotten
her responsibilities toward her family.

Joshua had shown her a side of life she
should never have seen…and yet, somehow, what she’d shared with
Joshua that morning didn’t
feel
wrong.

It was sinful, of course, to lie with a man
before marriage. She’d go straight to hell for it. Of course, she
thought with a wry grin, she’d probably already been consigned to a
fiery after-life for her foul-mouthed curses. And if not for her
cursing, certainly for all the lies she’d told. Maybe those
intimate moments with Joshua didn’t make matters any worse.

She dug out her Bible and ran her fingers
over the edges, remembering again the day her father had first
given it to her. She’d done a lot of scripture study since then,
but had she really learned anything?

Kat closed her eyes and let peace surround
her. She wasn’t afraid of God, wasn’t afraid He’d punish her for
every slight infraction she committed or every little mistake she
made. She wasn’t perfect. She tried her best, and she failed as
often as not. That’s what being human was all about.

God loved her. His goodness and mercy would
follow her.

Most of all, God would forgive her.

But Virgil Kendrick wouldn’t. Once she’d
confessed her sins to him, she wouldn’t have to worry about
marrying the minister. He wouldn’t want her once he knew the
truth.

Smiling, she hurried downstairs to join her
mother.

“Morning, Miss McIntyre.” Joshua tipped his
hat to the young woman working the register at the rear of the
store. He made his way slowly toward her, aware of the heads
turning as he walked past. Damned limp. Always made people stop and
stare. He didn’t want their pious, self-righteous pity. He reached
the sales counter and tugged his supply list out of his pocket.
“Mostly the usual items. How long do you think it will take?”

As he spoke, he caught the uneasiness in
Lucille’s brown eyes. For some reason, his presence in the store
was making her decidedly uncomfortable. He glanced downward,
wondering if he’d spilled breakfast on his shirt, or maybe he had a
piece of bacon stuck in his teeth and she was too polite to mention
it. As far as he could tell, he was all in one piece, but Miss
McIntyre kept shifting her glance around, watching the door as
though she feared someone in particular might come in. Kat,
perhaps? His hopes rose, and he smiled at the thought of seeing
her. But it didn’t make sense. Why in the world would Kat’s arrival
cause her friend such obvious apprehension?

Joshua figured he’d learned a lot of
valuable lessons in his life, some—like trusting the wrong
people—more painful than others. One lesson in particular seemed
pertinent at that moment…the one about not beating around
bushes.

“Is something wrong, Miss McIntyre?” he
asked, getting right to the point. Like a stubborn Missouri mule,
she seemed reluctant to speak up without a little prodding.

“Wrong? Why, no, not at all.” She twisted
her hands in front of her, and her gaze darted again toward the
door.

“Well, something has sure got you spooked.
Have I done something to offend you?”

She shook her head. “No, it isn’t that.”

“This conversation would be a whole lot
easier, ma’am, if you’d just come right out and say what’s on your
mind.”

Her ample bosom rose and fell as she sucked
in a deep breath then exhaled. “You’re right, Mr. Barron. I do need
to speak with you. In private, if you don’t mind.” She gestured
toward a small room at the back of the store. “We can step into the
office.”

“Yes, ma’am, of course.” Her tone of voice
and her actions put him in the mind of his school days. On more
than one occasion, he’d been sent to have a little talk with the
school’s headmaster, usually because of some hare-brained idea Cody
had come up with and persuaded him to go along with. But he
couldn’t blame his cousin for whatever was going on now. He just
wished he knew what, exactly, it was. Joshua ran a finger around
his shirt collar, trying his best to think of anything he might
have said or done to upset Lucille McIntyre.

Lucille gestured toward a woman who looked
to be in her forties. Probably her mother, he guessed. “Will you
watch the counter for a few minutes, please?” She pointed toward
Joshua, doing her best to keep the movement hidden from his view,
but he’d long ago learned to be observant of his surroundings. That
was one of the lessons that usually did pay off.

More curious than ever, Joshua followed
Lucille into the mercantile office at the rear of the store. She
walked slowly, allowing him to easily keep pace with her.

“What’s this all about?” he asked as soon as
she closed the door behind them.

“I have something of yours.”

“You do?” His brows quirked but before he
could ask any more questions, she hurried across the room and began
rummaging through a basket. A moment later, she returned, carrying
a small cloth bag. She up-ended it, spilling its contents onto a
small table.

Socks. Thick, woolen socks.
His
socks, to be more specific.

“Where did you get these?” He picked up one
neatly-bundled pair, pulled them apart and inspected the heels,
nodding in approval at the neat stitching.

“I got them from Kat, of course.”

Joshua continued his careful inspection and
smiled. “She does a fine job of darning. Can’t say that I’ve ever
seen neater stitching. I’m awful hard on socks, you see. It’s these
boots—”

“Mr. Barron, Kat didn’t mend your
socks.”

He held one up by the heel. “I beg to
differ, Miss McIntyre. She most certainly did. I thought it was
right kind of her to offer.”

She looked away and mumbled a few words,
something about her doing something. He caught a word or two, but
what she was saying didn’t make much sense. Joshua scratched at his
ear wondering what had happened to his hearing. He could have sworn
Lucille McIntyre was claiming to have mended his torn socks.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Say again?” He
cupped a hand to his ear.

Facing him now, she spoke clearly. “I said I
was the one who mended your socks.”

“You did? Now, why would you do that?”

“For the same reason I cooked that chicken
and gravy Kat served you.”

Joshua frowned. “I’m listening.”

“Mr. Barron, Kat can’t sew a stitch. And she
can’t cook. Seriously, she doesn’t know a bobbin from a pincushion,
or a strainer from a potato masher. If it were left to her, you’d
be going around barefoot with nothing more in your stomach than
watery soup and rock-hard biscuits. She was trying so hard to
please you. I felt sorry for her. I stepped in and offered to help
her out.” She looked down at her hands. “I think maybe I helped a
little more than I should.”

“Really, now.” Rubbing his chin, he gave the
matter some thought. “And why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t want you to be deceived. I
know you’re looking for a wife—”

“Wait!” He held up a hand. “How did you know
that?” For the moment, he didn’t explain that whatever wife he
found would be for Cody, not for himself. It didn’t seem relevant
then and there. “Who said I was looking for a wife?”

Lucille looked flustered. She opened her
mouth, then shut it again. Her shoulders slumped as she bent
forward. Finally she lifted her gaze to his. “Well, Kat seems to
think you’re looking for a wife. Why else would she go to all this
trouble?”

“She’s trying to show her wifely skills?”
Joshua rolled that thought around in his mind for a delicious
moment. Forget the food and the stockings; Kat definitely had other
skills. A smile crossed his face.

“That’s an odd way of putting it, but, yes.
She’s trying to impress you, hoping you might consider her for your
wife.”

Again, Joshua didn’t bother to correct her
faulty assumptions.

“She didn’t cook that chicken? Or the gravy?
How about those sweet peas?”

Lucille shook her head.

“And she didn’t darn these socks?” Joshua
held up a pair.

“No, sir.”

He scratched at the stubble on his jaw as he
digested this new information. Cody might not have a problem with
holes in his socks—he wasn’t much for wearing boots—but the man
loved to eat. Whoever married him would have to know the rudiments
of cooking.

“I see. I don’t suppose Kat would make a
suitable wife.” He said the words with a degree of regret that
surprised him, although it confused him, too. In a sense, he was
glad Kat wouldn’t be marrying his cousin. Somehow the idea had
suddenly come to seem completely wrong.

“You will let her down gently, won’t you,
Mr. Barron?” Lucille asked, worry in her voice. “I mean, she’s
rather clumsy in the kitchen, and she hasn’t got much confidence as
a woman. She thinks herself quite inadequate, which is why I
hesitated to say anything. But it’s wrong for her to deceive you,
and if you married her it would be for all the wrong reasons,
and—”

“Let me set your mind at ease, Miss
McIntyre. I have no intentions of marrying Kat Phillips. In fact, I
have no intentions of getting married, at all. I’m afraid the rumor
you’ve heard about me hasn’t been quite accurate.”