Harlot at the Homestead Page 11

  He looked up into her face then placed his hat on the step beside him. When he took her hands in his and held them to his lips, she felt like her heart would burst. Since her return, her love for him had grown, matured, developed and it now ran like sweet, warm honey through her veins. In just a matter of days, she had confirmed what she already knew. She loved this man with everything that she was, and losing him again would break her heart into a thousand pieces, just like falling from a wild stallion would break her body. Though she knew she’d face the latter fate a thousand times over if she could just be with Kenan again.

  “Catherine,” he breathed.

  “Yes, my love.”

  “We cannot change what has happened. We cannot go back in time to be the people that we once were.”

  She shook her head and bit her lower lip to still its trembling. How cruel life was—how unjust and unfair!

  “But Catherine…my life without you…thinking that you were gone forever…was unbearable.”

  “I am so sorry!” The tears began to flow from her tender eyes once more.

  “But…” Now Kenan’s voice broke. “I…I know now that you live and I am so, so thankful for it. I swear to you Catherine, that if you will have me…if you will take me as your husband and be by my side each day until we breathe our last… I swear to you that I will never let you down. I will protect you, honor you and love you with every part of me.”

  Catherine swallowed hard. Her head swam with emotion and she had to slow down her breathing. What was he saying? Did he really mean it?

  “Well, darn it, girl!” Edie Montgomery’s voice snapped at her from the front door. “What in the hell are ya waiting for? A chorus of God’s own angels to serenade ya whilst ye make up ya mind? Take him up on it now or I’ll beat ya to it!”

  Catherine stared at her aunt, surprise and joy battling deep inside.

  She started to laugh through her tears.

  “Oh, Kenan, yes! Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.

  She pulled at his hands to bring him to his feet then fell into his arms and relaxed into the warmth and the passion of his kiss.

  * * * *

  Catherine walked onto the front step of the Duggan homestead. She placed her hands on the smooth wood of the porch rail and savored the warmth of the wood. Throughout the course of the day, the sun had warmed it as it did the front step. Kenan’s father had been a talented man and craftsmanship meant that the place was a real home.

  The autumnal evening sky glowed red and amber. She closed her eyes, savoring the fading warmth of the setting sun.

  Horse hooves alerted her to the return of her husband and she skipped off the step and ran to the perimeter fence, her heart beating with joy at the idea of being in his arms again, though he’d only been gone half a day into Virginia City to fetch supplies. Not far behind him, she could make out the wagon as it trundled along with Emmett wobbling on the wooden plank that served as a seat.

  Kenan leaped from his mare then tethered her before gathering Catherine carefully into his arms.

  “Kenan!” She laughed. “You don’t need to be so gentle with me! I’m not going to break!”

  He kissed her on the mouth, the chin, the forehead and both cheeks before leaning over and planting a tender kiss upon her belly.

  “How did it go in town?” Catherine asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “All sorted. I think I got everything you asked for.” He rolled his eyes.

  She mock punched him in the chest.

  “Any news?” She traced the frown that passed over his forehead with her forefinger. “What is it?”

  “Not a lot’s happening in Virginia City. Same old same old…” He shrugged but Catherine could sense his unease.

  “Has someone said something about…about me?” She heard the quiver in her own voice and felt the familiar surge of fear. Was it possible that someone, somewhere, could even now—more than three months after her reunion with Kenan—destroy her happiness?

  “I didn’t know whether to tell you but I can’t hide it from you either.” He caressed her cheeks then planted a soft kiss upon her nose.

  “Please…what is it?”

  “I spoke to the sheriff earlier. He’d just received some news from New York City.”

  “Oh!” Catherine’s heart thrummed like a caged bird and she felt the ever present nausea threaten.

  “It’s not nice to hear, mind.”

  She lifted her chin, steeling herself. “Please tell me.”

  “Seems that Thomas Henderson…” She watched as the small muscle at the corner of Kenan’s jaw began to twitch again. She knew how thinking of that man made Kenan’s blood boil still and she guessed that it always would.

  “Yes?” She placed a trembling hand upon Kenan’s chest.

  “Seems he got himself into a bit of a tricky situation.”

  “What did he do?” She gripped his shirt front.

  “He tried to take himself another man’s fiancée…just like he took you.”

  She felt her mouth fall open and she searched his eyes wildly, fearing yet longing to hear the rest.

  “And what happened?”

  “He got caught out this time. The young woman went along with it all to pay off her father’s debts but her fiancé found out where she’d gone and—”

  “Oh no!” Catherine’s hand flew up to her mouth.

  “Yep!” Kenan licked his lips. “Now…I promised you I’d not go after retribution and I kept my promise but it seems like Henderson got what was comin’ to him.”

  Catherine leaned forwards and rested her head on his chest. She breathed deeply of his familiar scent and focused on slowing her heartbeat. So Thomas Henderson was dead. He’d hurt her and the man she loved then he’d tried to do the same again. Who knew how many times he’d succeeded in the past? Maybe Catherine hadn’t been the first. In fact, she sincerely doubted that she had.

  When she had mastered her emotions and felt long awaited relief seeping through her like a refreshing breeze in high summer, she spoke again.

  “So despite the fact that we still live in a relatively untamed land…” Catherine spread her arms out, gesturing at the plains surrounding the homestead. “It seems that folks can’t just go around acting any old way they want.”

  “No sweetheart,” Kenan pulled her into his embrace. “They really can’t.”

  “I love you, Kenan. I love you so much and I’m so happy to be here with you.”

  “And I’m the happiest man alive…” He turned her so that her back rested against his chest and stomach and he wrapped his arms around her. “Now that I know I can come home to my wife”—he placed a protective hand over her stomach and cupped the slight curve—-“and my growing child.”

  Catherine covered his hand with her own and relaxed against her husband’s warmth, secure in the knowledge that for them, at least, life would go on as they had originally planned at the Duggan homestead.

  Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

  Desire in Deadwood

  Molly Ann Wishlade

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  “Take your clothes off.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  Evelyn forced her mouth shut.

  She looked around the room, buying time. The faded brown curtains hung limply over the windows, not quite touching, and the afternoon light filtered through the gaps, its beams turning the dust in the air into diamonds. She could hear the rattle of a wagon on the street below and the regular rhythm of squeaking bedsprings in the adjacent room.

  “So? What are you waiting for?”

  She stared at the man on the moth-eaten chaise longue in front of her. He was serious.

  “But I thought…” She chewed her lower lip.

  “What exactly did you think, Mrs Campbell? That I asked you to meet me at the Gem Saloon just to talk?”

  She swallowed. “I had hoped…that it would be as we agreed,
Mr Hamilton.”

  “But it is.” He frowned, running a hand through his thick, black hair. “You agreed to meet me here and I agreed to pay you.”

  She watched as he stroked his mustache. He examined her form and paused for a moment too long upon her breasts.

  She pulled her shawl tighter across her chest and glanced at the door to her left.

  “Now, look, Mrs Campbell”—his voice was soft as he straightened his waistcoat—“you are under no obligation. If you want to leave then do so. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve let me down.”

  Evelyn’s heart beat quickened at the muttered closing remark.

  “No, I…I don’t want to go, Nate”—she shook her head—“Mr Hamilton.”

  “Then keep your side of the deal, Mrs Campbell.” He leaned back and lifted one foot, resting it upon his knee.

  “Could you lock the door?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Do you think that you have anything under those clothes that anyone in this joint hasn’t seen before?”

  “I certainly do, Mr Hamilton!” Her voice cracked. “No one in this town has seen me…”

  He put up a hand and shook his head.

  “I didn’t mean your personal attributes. I referred to those of the whores.”

  Evelyn’s cheeks burned and she blinked away tears of anger and humiliation, wondering how it had come to this. For years she had imagined meeting Nate again, seeing his handsome face light up as she walked into a room. Instead, here they were. He had offered her money and she had accepted.

  He rose and walked over to the door and pushed the bolt across then he sauntered back toward her and stopped right behind her.

  “Evelyn,” he whispered into her ear, causing ripples of excitement to course up and down her spine. Her nipples tightened and she felt a tingling beginning between her legs. She fought the urge to turn to look into his eyes.

  “Evelyn?”

  She struggled to breathe as he placed his hands on her shoulders and the tingling lower down intensified.

  He applied a gentle pressure then moved to caress her collar bones. He rubbed his thumbs over the nape of her neck, whilst he stroked his index fingers into the hollow at her throat. She felt the power behind his touch, the heat of his skin.

  An awful thought struck her—did he mean her harm?

  No. That wasn’t his style. Unless…

  “Let me take this.” He tugged at her shawl and she loosened her grip on the russet wool then he returned to his seat and smiled up at her like a satisfied cat.

  Raising the shawl to his face, he inhaled deeply. “You still smell good, Evelyn. I didn’t think you would. Why, I don’t know”—he frowned, staring at the shawl—“but your scent still pleases me. Now…” He gestured at her clothing.

  Nate leaned farther backwards in his seat, trying to maintain the façade of nonchalance but blood was thundering in his ears and he was overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through him. When he’d heard that a young woman and her boy had arrived in Deadwood—where the mother was to take up the tuition of Mrs Riley’s spoiled brat—he’d thought of it fleetingly as bad luck for the new arrivals. The Riley brat had been claimed by smallpox just days before, so the poor tutor had traveled all the way from Custer City for nothing.

  But then he’d heard from Al Swearengen that the woman was mighty fine in the looks department, with breasts the size of watermelons and a rump you could rest your tankard on, and that had fired his curiosity. So, a week ago he’d taken a stroll along to the Grand Central Hotel to take a look.

  And he hadn’t been able to believe his eyes.

  “Mr Hamilton?”

  He bunched the shawl up in his lap at the familiar sound of her voice—a voice that had haunted his dreams.

  “Mr Hamilton?” His eyes were dragged to her face.

  Though it had been ten years or more since he’d last seen her, her appearance was virtually unaltered and right now she looked like an angel with her golden hair and skin the color of cream. The only real difference was her expression. Her blue eyes betrayed her with their wariness and sorrow.

  He could almost feel sorry for her. Almost. But he knew what a cold, betraying bitch she could be.

  “Strip!” he growled, watching her wince at the venom in his command. He would see her humiliated, brought low before him as he’d been brought low all those years ago. If he could make her feel a fraction of the hurt and shame he’d experienced, he knew that he would feel better. That was how it worked.

  He dragged a stool toward him and plonked his feet upon it then leaned back to enjoy the view.

  Evelyn’s knees knocked together as she tried to decide what to remove first. She fingered the buttons at the neck of her blouse and she fumbled with the top one.

  “Leave it!” Nate’s growl startled her.

  “But you…”

  “Let your hair down first.”

  She pulled at the pins that held her heavy locks in place then let them drop to the floor, one by one. When she had finished, she shook her head and ran her fingers through the honey waves, reminded as she did so of how Nate had loved her hair, loved seeing it down and pressing his face into it.

  “It’s still so long.” His voice was husky.

  She nodded. “You used to love it.”

  He frowned, his eyes hardening, and she took a step backwards.

  “There were a lot of things I used to love about you, Evelyn.”

  “Oh, Nate.” She covered her mouth to damn the torrent of words.

  A noise from the hallway made them both turn.

  “Is everything alright in there, Mr Hamilton?”

  “Fine,” he snarled.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “Who is that?” Nate demanded.

  “Why it’s Dan Doherty, Mr Hamilton!”

  “I’m fine, Doherty. Now clear off!”

  “As you wish, sir.” The man’s muffled laughter grew fainter as he walked away.

  Looking back at Nate again, Evelyn realized that the small room was darker than when she’d arrived. It was past four o’clock and the shadows were deepening, filling the corners of the room and spreading across the floor. It gave her some comfort, at least she didn’t have to strip in the harsh light of midday.

  She looked around for somewhere to sit. The room’s only furniture included the chaise longue, a footstool, a smudged looking glass, a mahogany changing screen and a bed with a soiled mattress. She moved the short distance to the bed where she perched upon the edge and began to untie her boot laces then she tugged them off and stood them together on the floor.

  When she lifted her skirt a little to get to her stockings, she heard Nate’s sharp intake of breath and looked up to see him staring at her, his eyes dark with desire.

  “Nate?”

  “I think that we should remain formal, Mrs Campbell.” He pushed himself upright and licked his lips. “This is, after all, a business transaction.”

  “Yes, of course.” Her heart plummeted to familiar depths.

  She rose and went to stand in front of him again. She reached up to her collar and began unfastening her blouse. As each button was released from its hole she paused, hoping that he would stop this degradation but he made no sound, no movement. He just sat and watched her hungrily.

  Once her blouse hung open, she looked him in the eye. At a slight nod of his head she shook the blouse from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

  “What now?”

  He was in control here, he had bought her and she would earn her money. She had to because she needed it so desperately.

  As he stared at her she felt that he would burn through her skin and into her very soul. His gaze was unflinching. She looked away into the corner of the room to avoid eye contact. Her hair fell down over her chest and the plump mounds of her breasts protruded, covered only by her thin chemise. When she took a shaky breath, she felt the stays of her corset against her ribs whilst the lace edging around its top r
ubbed against the underside of her bosom. Her nipples strained against their covering, so tight that they ached.

  She wanted to be touched.

  She knew that Nate saw all of this and she surrendered to the urge to look at him. She scanned his form, from his dusty black boots, up his long legs in their pinstripe pants and arrived at his groin.

  She whipped a protective hand across her chest.

  “What do you see Mrs Campbell?”

  His arousal was evident, bulging against the crotch of his trousers and he smiled as she stared at it.

  “It remembers you too.” He rubbed at the swelling, gripping it tightly. “It remembers you very well.”

  “I…” Evelyn wrapped her arms around her quivering body. Her heart beat quickly and her breathing was shallow. Her nipples throbbed and between her legs she was suddenly wet.

  Images of their lovemaking burst through the fog in her mind like delicious little shocks, their clarity making her breathless—Nate’s hard muscular chest, his skin bronzed by the sun, the muscles in his arms bulging as he lifted her and lowered her into the hay, their naked limbs entwined as he rocked her to her own explosive climax, before emptying his hot seed over her belly. All these things and more she allowed herself to remember.

  “Do you remember it, Mrs Campbell?” He seemed to read her thoughts. He leaned forward. “Do you remember how it was between us?”

  “Yes, oh yes, Nate.”

  She stared at him as he unbuckled his gun belt and she shivered as it clinked against the buttons on the waist band of his trousers. The creak of the buttons being freed from their holes increased her heartbeat and she held her breath, wondering what Nate was about to do.

  He reached into his trousers, then looked up and held her gaze. She was unable to fight the urge to look down and she gasped as he freed his magnificent erection then circled it with his hand.

  “Show me your breasts, Mrs Campbell,” he whispered then moistened his lips.

  She gawked at his groin, mesmerized by the long pink shaft with its purple and blue veins and shiny mushroom head. He held her attention as he moved his hand slowly but firmly up and down his impressive male flesh. How she had loved to be impaled upon it. How she would love to be impaled upon it now.