Southern Seduction [Bride Train 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (13 page)

“None taken. She’ll be armed. I had a hard enough time getting her to hand over her knife for the wedding ceremony.” His mouth jerked in a parody of a grin at their chuckles. He took a step, then looked back. “Don’t ever back Casey in a corner, or threaten to hold her against her will. From what Byron said, she barely escaped something bad. I wouldn’t want to be the one who thinks he can hurt her.” He gave a warning glare. “Think of Ross, but with fewer knives.”

“Sounds like you got yourself a hell of a woman,” said Barstow.

“She won’t be so wild by the spring,” replied Cole.

He went back inside to corral his bride. He sent Byron to work out any details and then looked around for Casey. She was talking with Walt and Emma. Talking up a storm, in fact. Her whole face lit up and she laughed as Zeus tried to attack Walt’s beard. Since Walt was encouraging the dog by wiggling the tip of his beard at the puppy, Cole didn’t step in.

Why couldn’t she laugh like that with him? She managed to smile and talk with Marshall and even Byron after the wedding. She charmed Judge Thatcher, and even Nora Dawes had thawed toward the girl she’d called “a ragamuffin.” But Casey avoided him, keeping her head down or face carefully blank.

The other couple moved away as he approached. Casey’s face went still. She looked down. He felt like he’d been hit in the face with a cold fish.

“You can’t be shy, wife. I saw you laughing and talking with Walt and Emma. Why don’t you talk to me like that?”

Casey worried her lip before answering. She spoke to the floor. “Walt don’t mind the way I talk, but your face gets all tight and angry. I figgered it’s best I don’t say nothin’.” She looked up, meeting him full on. “I may be ignorant but I ain’t stupid, and Walt knows it. He kin talk jest like me, or put on fancy airs. Mrs. Chamberlain, she says she don’t care what he does as long as he cares for her. Says he’s the same man in buckskin or a fancy black suit.”

Cole got the point. Casey thought he was unreasonable, even insulting. But Walt could speak intelligently, using logic and even a sense of oratory. Casey, as far as he was aware, could not. But he had to be fair in his judgment. Obviously she did not have the advantages provided by his grandparents.

“Who raised you, Casey?”

She straightened her shoulders. Her white neck rose from the bronze dress like a swan.

“I did, mostly. Mama took care of me ‘til I was four, then I took care of Willy.”

“Didn’t your father do anything for you?”

“Pappy?” She rocked back, snorting a laugh in a most unladylike manner. “He were the one doin’ things
to
us.” She sobered. “He kept the men from touchin’ me, mostly.”

Cold dread tingled in Cole’s veins. “Mostly?”

“I put my skinning knife between the ribs of one what thought he could get at me. Pappy were drunk on the floor. Nobody tried that again.”

She patted her hip, startled when she realized no knife waited there, then swallowed hard. He’d give it back tomorrow morning with the understanding she was not to wear it in the cabin. As her husband, it was his job to protect her. He understood she didn’t trust him. He doubted she trusted anyone, and with good reason. He intended to change that.

“You killed him?”

She shrugged as if it was no matter. “Don’t rightly know. He was gone in the morning and I never seen him again. Served him right if he died.”

Cole was the one to look down. He’d married a woman who’d killed a man with one shot and knifed another. There was no way in Sam Hill he could teach her to be a lady. Maybe Florence Elliott could do it, if Casey lived there for months. But why would he go without his cook, hunter, and chore boy for that long when there was no guarantee it would do any good?

Give the girl a chance, you fool!
The words came into his head in Grandpa’s voice. Yeah, that was what he would say if he was here. Grandma gave Grandpa a chance and look how happy they ended up. Two of their three daughters were no good, but they’d made up for it by raising their grandsons right.

“You look pretty tired, Casey. Would you like to go home?”

Finally, a positive reaction. Her shoulders eased, and she gave a shy smile. Who’d have thought under that dirt and all she was pretty? Too bad her hair was all gone. He’d always wanted his wife to keep her hair neat all day, letting it down only for him.

“Yes, sir.”

He’d wait to tell her that Byron and Marshall would stay to entertain for the rest of the evening. Byron on the gutbucket and Marshall on the banjo, and others sharing his fiddle, there’d be lots of music. Casey might get skittish to think they’d be alone in the cabin. He swallowed hard. Maybe he should be skittish as well. She looked so good, and he hadn’t even properly kissed her yet.

He went to hook up the wagon, walking carefully so he didn’t give himself an injury.

Casey held on to the seat with one hand and rested the other on her puppy. Zeus curled between her legs, secure in the swoop of her skirt. That was one advantage of a dress. You could spread your knees and keep things from sliding between them to the floor. Zeus warmed that part of her, but she was chilled, even wearing her new coat, hat, and boots. Yet she sat about as far as possible from Cole Taylor.

Her husband. A husband who swore he’d never touch her as a husband did a wife. But she had two more husbands. Would she ever get the nerve to seduce one of them? Only after she climbed in the wagon did she realize Byron and Marshall would be staying. Though she had a knot in her stomach from the thought of being alone with Cole, how could she say no? By then parcels had been put in the back, with hugs exchanged and well wishes given. Sophie handed her a special package to open before bed. She whispered it was a nightgown and, even though Cole said he wouldn’t be a real husband, she could still feel pretty in bed.

She’d felt pretty since she put on the bronze satin dress. She lifted her hand from Zeus and ran it over the smooth fabric. She’d never felt anything like it before. It might even be as nice as the dresses Mama told her about, that she’d seen and worn before marrying Pappy.

“All right, Casey?”

Cole’s voice came out of the moonlit night. She startled, reassured herself with Zeus’s warmth, and turned to him, just a bit so as to be polite. Though she’d never had much chance to use her manners before, Mama had taught her how a woman should behave with a gentleman. At the time neither of them expected Casey to ever see a gentle man. She’d used her manners all night, watching others to see how they behaved. She’d tried to speak like Mama, but it was hard when she got nervous. And no one made her as nervous as Cole.

“Yes, sir.”

He grumbled something and they rode on for a bit. The clop of the horse’s hooves and rumble of the wagon were the only sounds.

“Now and then I’d like to hear something other than yes sir and no sir from you. Don’t worry about how you speak. I understand you fine. Can you do that?”

“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir.”

He shot her a look. She dropped her head to ruffle her fingers through Zeus’s fur.

“Pappy said those were about the only things a woman could say to her man. She’d best think more than twice afore saying something else or she’d get beaten.”

Cole made a growling noise. He moved his fists, and the leather traces he held, closer to his chest. The horse slowed, as did the wagon. She tensed, ready to leap away, then remembered he was her husband. The law said he could beat her if he wanted. But he was Cole Taylor, a man who did not use his fists on women. And if she kept telling herself that, she might even believe it, even though she could tell he was angry with her. She lifted Zeus to her chest for a moment before placing him behind her on a rug so he’d be safe.

Cole slowly turned to her. He dropped his head for a moment, heaved a sigh, and pushed up the brim of his hat with one stiff finger. There was enough moon and starlight that crisp evening to see his frown.

“Cassandra Wright Taylor, do I look like your pappy?”

He scolded her, but he sounded sad rather than mad. Pappy would pretend to be calm, but when she came near like he ordered, he’d lash out. She’d slam up against a wall, or trip over something and crash to the floor. She bit her lip and let her eyes seek Cole. His jaw stuck out as he stared forward. He inhaled deeply, and then let it out.

“No, sir.”

“I would never hit you. It hurts me that you still think I might.” His words were soft in the night. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Casey, for better or for worse, you’re my wife until spring. I don’t know all what your pappy did to you, but I’m getting a good idea. I’m going to say my piece right here and now. I want you to listen real hard.”

When a man’s body got all tight, she expected a hand or boot to lash out. But Cole had wrapped the leather traces through his fingers. He couldn’t raise his hands without yanking the horses, and no decent rancher would abuse a useful animal.

“As your husband, it’s my duty and privilege to protect you. That’s why I took your knife away. I couldn’t have you wearing it during our wedding ceremony. I vowed to love, honor, and cherish you. Part of how a man honors his wife is by protecting her.”

He leaned toward her. This time she didn’t pull back.

“When I saw you walking toward me in that dress, with flowers in your hair and all, my heart near stopped. I couldn’t believe such a pretty woman would marry me.”

He thought she was pretty? No, it must be the dress. Yet her body tingled where his eyes trailed over her. One corner of his mouth curled up. His nostrils flared like old Harry’s bull scenting a cow. She could tell he wanted the same thing from her as that bull, to mount her and place his seed deep inside. But he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do that. Her breasts and the place between her thighs tingled in hopes he’d change his mind.

“I made a vow to keep you safe until spring. And that means safe from me and my cousins just as much as any other folk.” He coughed, almost like a laugh. “There’s nothing I’d rather do right now than kiss my lovely wife on our wedding night under this here moon. But I know you’re scared. And unless you kiss me, my lips won’t be going anywhere near yours.”

She wasn’t scared. She was eager. She’d been nervous during the ceremony, shaking so hard she could barely get her words out. When the judge said the men could kiss their wives, Walt let out a whoop and hauled Emma into his arms. Cole had wrapped his fingers around hers and murmured something soothing. She couldn’t remember what. He’d bent at the waist and slowly lifted her hand to his mouth. By the time his lips touched her knuckles she was aware of nothing but Cole’s face. He had a welcoming smile and kind look in his eyes. When he barely brushed his lips against her skin, the jolt of disappointment made her face heat.

He’d let her start slowly at the party, at first singing while the three cousins played popular songs and the room filled with dancers. So many people praised her voice. She didn’t know how to dance, but Cole told his cousins to play something slow and urged her onto the floor. He held her right hand and placed his left on her hip. He then pulled her close, so she wouldn’t trip, and whispered in her ear how good a job she was doing. She danced with Trace and a few other men Cole trusted. Marshall tried to pull her close, but he stopped, grinning, when Cole growled a warning.

She could still feel the places Cole had touched. This night she’d had the best time of her whole life. And now her husband had asked for a kiss in return for giving her a safe home, his name, and most of all, respect.

She looked at his lips. When he smiled as they danced, she discovered they were full. She’d only seen them tight with strain before. After all, he worked so hard. As the one in charge, he took responsibility for everything on the ranch. He was what her mama would call a good and kind man. He was her husband, and she had every right to kiss him, and enjoy it.

“We’ll be going on just the same as before,” Cole said, acting serious again. The tightness was back. No longer a gentle husband, but the boss of the Sweetwater Ranch. “You can wear what you like, pants or dress. And you can do womanly things to our home if you want.”

She blinked at him. “Womanly things?”

“Like the flowers you put on the table. A man won’t think of it, but it makes his heart a bit lighter when he sees such things. My grandma said women like curtains on clean windows, a pretty cup to drink from, and a cushion on her rocking chair.” His lip twitched. “Things that make life a bit better even if they’re not necessary.” The lip twitch widened into a half smile. “Grandpa Marshall said a happy wife makes a happy home. I want you happy, Casey.”

“I got me a warm, clean, safe place to live. Food, new clothes, and even a puppy.” She smoothed her dress, avoiding his eyes. “When we was dancing I felt like a princess. I never been that happy before.”

“You looked like a princess, Casey. And the way you smiled at me when we danced, I knew I was the luckiest man in the room. I liked having you in my arms. Too much.”

A hot flush warmed her face. She scooted a couple of inches closer. “I never kissed a man before. But if ye want a weddin’ kiss, I’ll give ye one.”

His eyes crinkled. The moonlight made his teeth blaze as he gave her the biggest smile she’d ever seen. It made the man almost sinfully handsome. He leaned over, giving her his cheek instead of his mouth.

She shuffled close, until their thighs touched. His leg seared her flesh like a poker fresh from the fire. Her breasts swelled. She turned her head and pecked his cheek. She waited for his reaction. He didn’t move.

“That was a chicken peck, Mrs. Taylor,” he murmured. “Not a kiss.”

Shame flared her cheeks. She bit her bottom lip. “Guess I’m no good at kissin’.”

“It took a while to learn how to cook, didn’t it?” He waited for her nod. “Well, kissing’s the same.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t moved. “Mama taught me how to cook. Could you show me how to kiss?”

Cole closed his eyes. She heard a low groan, as if he was in pain. She waited, impatient and unsure, as he tied the leather traces to the side of the wagon. The sound of horses munching added to the silence. He turned his body toward her.