Authors: Deborah Camp
“Hey, big man,” Ben called, striding into the stables. “Did you go to that town meeting last night?”
“I was there. They griped about everyone who isn’t lily-white and Southern.”
“Figured they would.” He hooked his thumbs under his belt. “You got a bur under your saddle about something else?”
Callum swiped a brush across Butter’s back and along her sides, giving Ben a glance over his shoulder. “I do. How’d it go out there today?”
“Nothing special. You about ready to brand them?”
“Just about.” Callum tossed aside the brush and stepped out of the stall, leaving Butter to enjoy her feed. He leaned against the outside of the stall, bending one knee and propping the sole of his boot against it. “The blacksmith should have the branding irons ready by the end of the week.”
“That’ll make it easier to separate them from the ones heading for market come spring.” A long stem of buffalo grass bobbed between Ben’s lips and his dark eyes glinted in the light of the setting sun.
Callum nodded. “We’ll see how it goes.” He looked at his best friend. With his shoulder-length black hair and dark brown eyes, Ben had never had trouble attracting the ladies. His teak skin and lean physique also worked in his favor. But Ben had never been one to chase skirts. As far as Callum knew, Ben had only courted a couple of girls, a Kiowa and a Cherokee. He’d broken if off with both of them when their families had pressured him to ask for their hands in marriage. He’d told Callum once that he liked the open prairie and didn’t want to be forced into a corral.
“You going to talk or can I walk? My stomach’s growling here.”
Shoving aside his musings, Callum focused on the current courting problems Ben had dumped on him. No need to pussyfoot around it, he told himself as he gathered in a deep breath and kept his gaze fixed squarely on the man he’d known since they were barely out of nappies. “I always pegged you as someone who avoids fights and puts a lot of stock in honor.” He noted the narrowing of Ben’s eyes. “That’s why I can’t for the life of me understand why you’re screwing Eller’s wife.”
Ben’s face hardened to the consistency of stone.
“How long has it been going on?” Callum folded his arms against his chest. “You know that it has to stop. If I know about it, then it’s only a matter of time before Eller figures it out and then one of you is going to get the shit beaten out of you or even end up dead.”
“Did she tell you?” Ben yanked the buffalo grass from between his lips and tossed it aside.
Callum scoffed at that. “Lilah? Hell, no. I saw you two sneaking away from the old trapper’s cabin last night.”
Ben stared down at his boots until the silence in the stables became oppressive. “She’s a good woman, Cal. She deserves more than what she gets from him. He treats her with disrespect. She touches me deeply . . .” He rested a hand over his heart. “Deeply, Callum.”
Shaking his head, Callum scoffed at his friend. “Aw, hell, Ben. She’s not worth dying for. If she wants you so bad, she should leave Eller. This screwing around behind his back is no way for either of you to behave. Ki and Mary would kick your ass if they knew what you were up to. Hell, your brothers would join in on the ass-kicking.”
Ben sighed and looked toward the open door at the lengthening shadows. His expression relaxed slightly. “It’s true, I know. I tell myself to stay away from her, but she looks at me and speaks to me. She touches me. I forget everything, Cal. Everything. She is hot molasses in my blood.” He swung his gaze back to him. “Did it feel like that for you when you were with her?”
Callum shook his head slowly. “She was sweet and pretty, but I wasn’t in love with her. Not even close.” He shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong. I would have taken her if she’d offered, but she was holding out for marriage. She got what she was hankering for.” He shoved away from the stable wall to stand on both feet. “She’s another man’s wife, Ben. That should be the end of this discussion. I don’t give a good goddamn if she feels like hot satin around your dick or if she screams and claws at you like a wildcat when she comes – she vowed to be faithful to another man.”
Ben closed his eyes for a few moments and when he opened them again, clarity and conviction shone out of them. “You’re right, of course. It must end.”
Callum stepped over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “It will be better for her, too. If Eller thinks she’s messing with another man, he’ll make her even more miserable than she is already. Be the bigger person and walk away from this, Ben.”
Ben nodded, jerkily. “It will be done.” He went to his handsome black pony and swung nimbly up into the saddle, then kicked him into a trot for home. Callum leaned a shoulder against the wall, his attention fixed on Ben’s departing figure and his thoughts circling to the trouble that could be following the lovesick cowboy. He must be out of his head over Lilah to ignore the obvious – that when Eller got wind of it, he’d fly into a murderous rage. To Eller, his wife bedding down with another man was intolerable, but if that other man was an Indian? He’d be reaching for his gun or a hanging noose.
The faintest scrape of a shoe and rustle of clothing pricked at his senses and Callum looked over his shoulder toward the back of the stables. That’s when he caught the scent of apple blossoms and lavender.
“You fixing to bed down out here tonight, Banner?” He heard her soft gasp. Pivoting around, he watched her emerge from the shadows. She held two bottles with rubber teats stuck in them and she set them on top of a barrel as she passed by it. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment.
“I asked Mary if I could feed the orphan calves this evening before I headed for home.” She shrugged. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I didn’t know if I should show myself when I realized what you two were talking about.”
“It’s getting late. You’d best be getting home.”
She tipped her head to one side. “Do you believe him? Do you think he’ll end his affair with her?”
He started to tell her to mind her own business, but her genuine concern changed his mind. “I believe him. He’s smart. He knows right from dead wrong.”
“But if he’s in love . . ?”
“Love makes a difference?” he asked, dubiously. “First of all, I don’t think he’s in love. I think he wants to be her hero. Ben’s always gone after gals who are downtrodden or needed help of some kind. Second, it doesn’t matter. Love her or not, he’ll get himself killed if he doesn’t quit her.”
She sighed and moved closer, kicking at the straw and encouraging dust motes to dance in the orange-tinted air. “You’re not a teeny bit jealous?”
He felt his eyebrows rise at her question. “Do I look or sound like I’m jealous?”
Clasping her hands behind her back, she swayed slightly from side to side as she regarded him with her golden eyes, making him intensely aware of every inch of him that her gaze touched. “No, I suppose not. It’s hard to completely know the territory of a man’s heart, though.”
“Same could be said for a woman’s heart. You ever jealous of Lilah for having a husband and being settled?”
Her frown wrinkled her nose and made her eyes spark with affront. “Shoot, no. A husband, I could get if I wanted, and being married has nothing to do with being settled. Lilah is living proof of that.” She cast him a sly look. “Where’s this trapper’s cabin?”
“Eastern edge of the ranch.” He angled her a look. “You making plans to go there sometime?”
“Now why on God’s green earth would I want to go there? I just had never heard about it before, that’s all.”
“Should be called the love shack. Ben isn’t the only one who has sported with a gal in it. My brothers used it quite often for romantic trysts.”
“Oh? Never you, though.” She scraped her teeth over her lower lip and looked up at him in a way that caught the attention of his manly parts.
“I didn’t say that. I admit I’ve been there with a girl a time or two. But not lately. Not for years, in fact.”
Sunlight glided over her hair as she shifted from one boot to the other, and before his mind could catch up with his instincts, Callum reached out and wrapped his index finger around one of her auburn curls. Its softness against his calloused skin sent longing through him like a rushing river. She’d be like that all over – soft where he was hard, giving where he was not. He heard her gasp and his heart bucked. “I’d almost forgotten how silky . . .” He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore. He was mesmerized by the feel of her and the way her beautiful eyes glimmered, heated up, seared him.
He brought his other hand up to cup the back of her head. It took only a flexing of his fingers to bring her body flush against his and a dip of his head to rub his lips against hers. He grew hard so fast that he groaned against her lips and she parted them on a sigh. Animalistic need thrust his tongue into the sweetness of her mouth. He heard her startled moan and answered with a stroke of his tongue on hers. Gathering her hair into his hand, he tilted her head so that he could get a better taste of her. He lifted his mouth only long enough to gather in another breath before sealing his lips to hers again.
His whole body throbbed and strained with need. Sweet Jesus, it felt like ages since he’d had a woman in his arms. Her body molded to his and she matched him kiss for kiss. Her arms came around him and she stroked up and down his back. He wanted to tear off his shirt so that he could feel her skin on his skin.
He wedged his hand between their bodies to cup her breast and discover the hard nub of her nipple under her blouse. Her breasts would be creamy and her nipples blushing pink, he thought with near delirium. God, he wanted to sip, lick, and tunnel into her.
“Callum, stop,” she whispered against his lips and her hands were suddenly pressing against his chest. “We’re getting carried away here.” She shoved at him and stepped out of his embrace. Her breasts heaved with her open-mouthed breathing. She looked past him. “Anyone could see us!”
He ran his thumb and forefinger across his damp lips and shifted his stance to ease the throbbing below his belt. The cold slap of reason straightened his jumbled thoughts and if he could have kicked himself, he would have . . . all the way to Dallas and back.
“How do you feel about me?” she asked, her tone all smoky.
“Feel about you?”
She nodded.
How in the
hell
was he supposed to answer
that?
“You have a good head on your shoulders and a lot of gumption.”
“Oh.” A crease appeared between her eyes. “Well, thank you.”
He could tell she was disappointed and why he couldn’t rightly sort out. Nothing he’d said was an insult. He knew women well enough to know that she wouldn’t want him to answer that question honestly. Telling her that he was hard as a block of wood and that she’d damn near stolen his breath and good sense from him would only earn him a slap in the face.
Noticing that, at some point, his hat had fallen off and was lying at his feet, he collected it, ran a hand through his hair, and wedged it back onto his head.
“We shouldn’t be kissing like that.” She stared at him for long moments as if waiting for him to say something, and then she shrugged. “About the town meeting your men were discussing at breakfast this morning . . .” Worry flitted across her face. “The way everyone was jabbering made me think of how men were talking before the war broke out.”
His thoughts were still fuzzy around the edges and he wondered how she could kiss him like that one minute and expect him to discuss town goings-on in the next. He motioned for her to walk with him and they made their way toward her hitched wagon, giving him another minute to settle his thrumming pulses “Don’t fret about that.”
She dug in her heels, making him stop and look back at her. “Answer me this: would you join a vigilante group?” The crease on her forehead was back.
He shook his head once. “No.”
Her expression softened with relief. “But that’s what some of the men are doing, isn’t it? I heard that three or four freed slaves were hung outside Gainesville. Is that true?”
“I believe so, yes
She shivered and crossed her arms as if she were protecting herself against a bitter wind. “And there’s some kind of party next weekend?”
“Yes, that’s right.” He shifted from one foot to the other as his swollen member began to ease up. “Bull riding and barbecue.”
“I’d like to go to that and hear and see for myself what’s brewing.” Her throat flexed as she swallowed nervously. “If you aren’t already going with someone, would you consider being my escort?”
He felt his eyes widen as his thoughts sharpened to a keen point. Had she just up and asked him to take her to a party? The girl was brassy as could be sometimes. “Hollis won’t take you?”
“Hollis won’t go. He doesn’t like to be where there are lots of people. It makes him nervous. But I want to know which way the wind is blowing. My eyes and ears were closed leading up to the war. Like a ninny, I thought if I didn’t know about what was coming my way, it would race on past me. I know better now. I won’t hide under the covers again like a scared child. Ignorance is for fools.”
She made more sense than most of the men he knew and that was worrisome. Smart women had always been his weakness.
“Will you escort me or not?”
He looked down at his boots, shaking his head a little at the way she’d barked that question at him. Feisty little fox. “Sure, I’ll take you.” He flicked his gaze up to hers again. “Seeing as you asked me so sweetly and all.”