His hand left her shoulder, and a fiery thrill shot through her as he cupped her right breast in his hand. Tenderly, lovingly, he kneaded first one breast then the other, until both tingled with warm pleasure. Shamelessly, she pressed against his male hardness.
He moaned aloud and gasped her name between passionate kisses. Finally, he lifted her in his arms and pulled her tight against his chest. His mouth never leaving hers, he carried her quickly into the tipi and somehow managed to find the bedroll in the dark.
He lay her down and joined her, his body pressing against hers as he struggled with the hooks and eyes of her blouse. She wondered if it would be too forward of her to help him. The seconds seemed to stretch into eternity and she could no longer hold back. Abandoning propriety, she pushed his hand away and quickly tore off her blouse and chemise.
He chuckled softly. "My little wildfire." He caught a swollen nipple in him mouth, and she arched against him in sweet ecstasy.
He explored the soft lines of her waist with his fingertips, and her breath caught between her ribs as he inched the waistband of her skirt and trousers downward.
Unable to breathe, she waited for him to touch the most intimate part of her. The small part of her brain that was still sane was shocked that she would want such a thing, but her heart sang that this was right. It seemed to take him forever to caress her there. Impatiently, she took his hand and drew it between her legs, bringing first a chuckle from him and, finally, a gasp.
"Are you all right?" he whispered.
"Oh, yes!" she said, not bothering to keep her voice low. She was about to become a woman in the fullest sense, and she didn't care who knew it.
He quickly undressed and then slipped on top of her, his mouth pressing into hers. Reminding herself that it wouldn't be ladylike to put her hand around the hardness that pressed against her thigh, she resisted for less than a moment before giving in to her impulse.
Lord, it felt like fire. She felt like fire.
His breathing quickened at her touch and his body trembled. He moaned her name. "I can't wait any longer, Maddie." He spoke with an urgency that matched her own need for some unnamed fulfillment she didn't understand but was driven to attain. She wrapped her arms around him and spread her thighs.
The tip of his manhood was poised in place. She felt warm and moist, and more than anything, ready for him. It seemed as if she'd waited a lifetime for the moment that even now remained just outside her reach. What was taking him so long? Why wasn't he as eager for her as she was for him?
Lord, he felt eager enough. Never could she imagine that a man's organ could be so hard. She lifted her hips upward and felt a thrill as he pressed against her.
She pressed harder, but it soon became obvious he was having trouble entering her. Oh, Lord. Was there something more she was supposed to do?
"Easy," he whispered in her ear. "I don't want to hurt you." And then, "Relax."
Relax? How was she supposed to relax? She wanted him so much, her whole body ached with need. What if something was wrong down there, something that prevented her from taking a man?
He was massaging her now with the warm, throbbing tip. Waves of passion spiraled through her, but instinctively she knew there was more awaiting her. There was something…something wonderful. Something powerful.
Whatever it was, she wanted it and she wanted him to be the one to give it to her.
She gritted her teeth and pressed against him, hard at first, then harder still.
He plunged into her, ripping her apart. She cried out in pain, but the pain left as quickly as it had come, and a burning sweetness took its place.
He froze in place at the sound of her cry, and the body that had seconds earlier seemed so pleasingly hard now seemed rigid and unyielding. "Maddie? Oh, my God, what have I done?"
"It's nothing," she whispered. She moved her hips to prove to him she was all right, and fresh waves of desire shot through her, leaving her every nerve wanting more.
He pulled away from her, and she felt as if someone had wrenched away some vital part of her. "Dammit, Maddie. How can you say it's nothing?"
His hard, angry voice was so unexpected, her senses spun. Before she could make sense of what was happening, he rolled off her.
"Luke?" She could barely find her voice.
He said not a word, nothing. He was so quiet that even his breathing seemed to stop. Not wanting to believe that he was going to leave her without some word of explanation, she held her own breath and waited. She was stunned when he grabbed his clothes and left.
She felt humiliated and confused. She had always known she was lacking in feminine ways. The teasing interplay that she'd witnessed between men and women during all the fancy balls and socials in Washington had never come natural to her.
But never once had it occurred to her that a man might find her lacking in bed.
She searched in the dark for something to use as a cover. Finding her nightgown, she held it up to her and ran to the open flap. "Luke?"
The only sound she could hear was the thundering hooves of Luke's horse as it raced away.
Your father raped me
. He'd never forgotten his mother's words to him or the grim, almost hateful look on her face when she'd first told him. She'd cried aloud as if the mere act of telling him was enough to bring back all the pain.
He remembered thinking to himself at the time that he would never hurt a woman like his father had hurt his mother.
Until tonight, he never had. He'd made damn sure he never had!
He spurred his horse onward, until he fairly flew along that dark, lonely road.
It had been easy to keep his promise with Catherine-Anne. If the woman had an ounce of passion or desire in her, he certainly never saw it. She once told him that the only way she had been able to lie with all those men had been to remove herself emotionally and pretend she was someone else during the actual act. Old habits never die, apparently.
Knowing how she hated the intimate part of marriage, he never felt compelled to do more than fulfill his needs as carefully and quickly as possible. He had married her to rescue her; he imagined it his duty to rescue every woman who had ever been hurt by a man. But maybe there'd been another reason for marrying her. He knew things could never go much beyond the chaste kiss and perfunctory lovemaking stage. If the voices of the past failed to keep him under control, he could always depend on Catherine-Anne to remind him.
The taste of Maddie was still on his lips, and his hands still held the womanly scent of her. The farther away he rode, the more she seemed to beckon him.
"Oh, Maddie." Her name was an anguished cry that escaped him to become a part of the night. Will you ever forgive me?
He had tried to be so gentle. He should have known better. Maddie was a woman of extremes. She would never settle for anything less than the whole. He knew this about her, and that was why he'd fought so long and so hard to prevent what occurred tonight from happening.
God almighty, he'd hurt her, hurt Maddie.
His heart was filled with pain so excruciating that it felt like a knife had been plunged through his very center. It was hard to breathe, harder still to think.
All during the long, anguished hours that followed, only one thing was clear: he would make damn sure never to hurt Maddie again.
Chapter 25
Early the next morning, Luke hurried into his clothes and tiptoed from the soddy so as not to wake his sleeping son.
Outside he paused to watch Maddie lead Lefty and his friends through their morning exercises. He absorbed the sight and sound of her like the earth absorbs the sun and rain. The voice that had once sounded so strident today touched his ears with the sweetness of a song.
Suddenly, he remembered how that same voice had sounded when she cried out in pain.
He staggered to the horse, but it took a while before he could ease himself into the saddle and start toward the Eldridge camp.
Maddie said something to one of the Indians and then ran toward him.
"Luke, about last night…I…"
He grimaced inwardly. "I don't want to talk about last night."
She looked up at him and he hated the confusion and hurt on her face, in her voice, in her eyes.
"I think the least you owe me is an explanation." She spoke calmly, but he had the feeling she was anything but calm inside. Her eyes were too bright for calm; her cheeks too flushed. "Why did you pull away from me?"
"I'm sorry, Maddie. I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that." He jerked the reins hard and galloped off. No matter how much he apologized or tried to explain, it could never be enough.
Peter was waiting for him. The two men exchanged a brief greeting and then set to work.
A slight breeze rippled the brown prairie grass as they harnessed Peter's oxen to what was commonly called a grasshopper plow or sod cutter. While Luke guided the team, Peter stood on his crutches and supervised young Jamie in clearing the grass away. Little Caroline packed down the ground to form a tough floor. At the age of five, she had more enthusiasm than ability, but she gave it her best.
Luke cut the strips of sod into individually blocks one foot wide by two feet long. It took a full acre of prairie turf to provide enough blocks for a sixteen by twenty foot dwelling.
Each block weighed fifty pounds, much too heavy for Peter to manage with his one leg. Peter could do little more than watch as Luke struggled with each block in turn.
Peter looked grim as the sod walls began to rise. "I never thought I'd see the day I would live in a dirt house." He had refused to live in one when he first came to Kansas. It cost him his entire savings to have lumber shipped by rail to Colton. But the house he built had been the envy of his neighbors, and soon many of them began to abandon their soddies for houses similar to the Eldridge home.
The citizens of Colton could never have guessed what a mistake it was to build wood houses. The recent wildfire, buffeted by strong prairie winds, had swept across the land, devouring every wooden structure in sight. Only the sod houses had survived.
Luke wiped the sweat off his face. "Don't think of it as dirt," he said. "Think of it as prairie marble."
Peter grinned. "Prairie marble, eh? I wonder if Lucy will accept that?"
No sooner had Peter mentioned his wife's name than Lucy could be seen walking toward them. The two children ran to greet their mother, but she seemed not to notice their presence.
Peter frowned. "She shouldn't be out here in the hot sun. The baby is due soon."
"You better go and see what she wants," Luke said.
Peter positioned his crutches beneath his armpits and hurried to meet his wife. She ignored her husband and kept walking toward the site. "What are you doing here?" she demanded of Luke.
Luke studied her pale, pinched face. The hatred and contempt he saw in her eyes were no surprise. It was a look he'd seen all his life, from his mother's family, his teachers, neighbors, even his customers. In the past, he had accepted such a look as his due. But no more. After seeing the love in Maddie's eyes as she looked at him, looked at Matthew, he never wanted to see hatred or contempt again.
"Maybe it's time we talked."
"I have nothing to say to you."
"I think you have plenty to say, and I think it's time you said it."
"Very well. I hate you, Luke Tyler. I'll never forgive you for murdering my brother. They should have hung you for what you did. Now get off of my property."
"I'm sorry about your brother, Lucy. You've got to believe that. If I could change the past, I would."
"Sorry? You're sorry? Do you think that makes up for what you did? Well, it doesn't! There's nothing you can say that will change my feelings. Now get off my property!"
"I'll leave as soon as we've completed your house."
She glanced down at the neat row of sod blocks with contempt on her face. "I'll not live in a dirt house like some animal!"
Peter tightened his jaw. "Be reasonable, Lucy. A wood house isn't safe. If there's another fire…"