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- Herausgeber: Vanessa Vale
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
The complete boxed set of all five books in the Lenox Ranch series. Includes Cowboys & Kisses, Spurs & Satin, Reins & Ribbons, Brands & Bows and Lassos & Lace!
Cowboys & Kisses-
Chance knows exactly what Rose needs... and he's going to give it to her.
Rose Lenox has always been more comfortable on the back of a horse than wearing ribbons and bows. For years, she's been content working on the family ranch, but lately she's finding herself wanting more. She's determined to strike out on her own and find freedom from her unorthodox family.
---
Spurs & Satin-
When handsome soldier Jackson Reed returns home from the Army, one woman catches his eye. She notices him as well but why is she doing everything she can to avoid him? Hyacinth Lenox can’t stop thinking about Jackson Reed, she wants him but she can’t have him. Guild from a tragic childhood incident follows her everywhere and she feels undeserving of Jackson’s love. He's a man who gets what he wants…and he wants Hyacinth.
---
Reins & Ribbons-
Garrison's been patient long enough. It's time to win his bride.
Dahlia Lenox is tired of ranch life, rules and restrictions. The poker table is her domain and the one and only place she yields to no one’s rules but her own. The biggest win of her life, a prize that could free her from small town life is calling and she can’t wait to claim the prize. Nothing is perfect though and leaving town means leaving the only man who ever made her ache to be his, Garrison Lee. Surrendering to him is not an option.
Garrison wants everything from Dahlia including her obedience in bed. He’s been patient. He’s been courteous. And he’s been a damn gentleman. All that’s gotten him is a brush off from Dahlia each of the three times he’s proposed. When Dahlia risks everything to escape him forever, Garrison is forced to raise the stakes in a single hand of poker… winner to take all.
---
Brands & Bows-
There’s only one thing he can do to protect her desire and her reputation…marry her.
Daisy Lenox has always felt invisible next her beautiful and vivacious sisters. But the new town doctor, Ethan James, changed all that. He watches her with an intensity that she can’t deny. He’s the first to encourage her and the first to offer a stern reprimand when she needs it.
Doctor Ethan James has a secret…until Daisy Lenox follows him and learns the truth—nearly getting herself killed in the process. While caring for Daisy, Ethan is determined that she never takes such a chance with her life again.
---
Lassos & Lace-
Determined to protect her, Jack will have to risk everything, even Lily’s love, to save her.
Jack Matthews came to the Montana Territory to track down an outlaw, not claim a bride. But the first time he sees Lily Lenox about to be run down by a stage, he discovers he doesn't want to let her go. Lily Lenox is smart, too smart to be caught up in Jack's strong arms and intense gaze. And she might have escaped, if he hadn't kissed her. For a spinster, blue-stocking such as herself, the offer of marriage from Jack is impossible to resist. In one day, Lily goes from innocent maiden to a well-loved and conquered wife. Happy and in love, Lily is content to wait as Jack leaves for work, promising to return.
Jack lied to his new bride. He’s not a businessman, nor a gentleman. He’s a Pinkerton agent going undercover. When Lily discovers his lie, she’s determined to track him down. All too soon Lily in trouble and neck deep in Jack’s web of danger and lies.
This series was previously published with the title Wildflower Brides Boxed Set.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
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Lenox Ranch Cowboys
Complete Boxed Set - Books 1 - 5
Vanessa Vale
Rose, Hyacinth, Dahlia, Daisy & Lily: Copyright © 2015 by Vanessa Vale
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design: Bridger Media
Cover Photos: Wander Aguiar Photography; Deposit Photos: Photocreo
This series was previously published with the title Wildflower Brides Boxed Set.
Contents
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Cowboys & Kisses - Book 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Spurs & Satin - Book 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Reins & Ribbons - Book 3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Brands & Bows - Book 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Lassos & Lace - Book 5
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
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Also by Vanessa Vale
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Cowboys & Kisses - Book 1
1
ROSE
The kitchen at six in the morning was akin to what I remembered of busy Chicago intersections—crowded, loud and slightly dangerous. With ten women in the house, there was never quiet, never any peace. It was the same, day in and day out. Dahlia bickered with Miss Esther about how the bacon should be cooked. Poppy stood behind Lily and styled her blond hair in another inventive creation. Marigold set the table with a loud clatter of dishes, eager for her meal. Hyacinth sat at the large table humming placidly to herself as she sewed on a button. Iris and Daisy were most likely still asleep or at least taking their time in dressing as to avoid morning chores. I paused and watched the hubbub, shaking my head at the claustrophobic feel in the room.
Nothing had changed. The room had not changed since the first day we'd all arrived from Chicago sixteen years before. Besides being older, no one had changed; our personalities were as varied as ever. Except me. I'd changed. Why did everyone irk me? Why did the house suddenly seem so small? Why did my sisters seem so grating? Why did I feel like I was being suffocated?
Wanting to escape, I dropped the armful of wood into the bin beside the stove and walked right back outside, and started across the grass to the stable. I took deep breaths of the cool morning air in an attempt to settle myself. It was too early to be riled, especially from just the normal morning routine.
"Rose!" Miss Trudy's voice carried all the way to me. There was more than physical distance between us; there was an emotional separation as well. I stopped and turned back with a sigh, tucking my unruly hair behind my ear. The woman who'd raised eight orphan girls, myself included, held up a folded cloth. "If you won't eat at the table, at least take something with you."
Her hair was up in a simple bun at her nape of her neck, the gray in her red hair bright in the sun just breaking over the mountains. She was still beautiful, even with the fine lines that showed her age. As I mounted the steps to take the food, I saw concern in her green eyes, but refused to speak of it.
I smelled the biscuits and bacon and my stomach rumbled. "Thanks," I replied, with a semblance of a smile on my lips.
"Where will you be?" she asked, her voice calm and placid. She never shouted, never raised her voice.
No one went off without sharing their whereabouts, for dangers abounded the ranch and all of Montana Territory beyond.
"I'll follow the fence line to look for any sections that might need repair." There was no damaged fence line. I knew it and so did Miss Trudy, but she only gave a small nod, allowing me to escape.
Not sure what else to say, I turned to head towards the stable. I couldn't tell her I was unhappy, although I was sure she knew. Uttering the words would make me seem ungrateful. She and Miss Esther had provided a stable, loving home for all of us girls. I would have grown up in a large city, never knowing the open expanses and big sky of Montana if they hadn't claimed us all and brought us west. The thought had me rubbing the space above my heart, guilt and a restlessness pressing heavily. No matter the depth of her caring or the closeness I had with the other girls, I needed more. I needed to escape.
"Whatever that fence post did to you, it sure is sorry now."
The deep voice that came from behind me was such a surprise that I hit my thumb with the hammer. I was a mile from the house when I’d decided to work out some of my frustrations on the fence. The post had had a loose nail and I'd begun to pound it in, continuing to strike even after it was lodged back in the wood. I was still hammering when he caught me unawares.
I sucked in a breath at the searing pain in the tip of my thumb, holding the base of it in my other hand. I let a few less-than-ladylike words slip out as I winced, walking around in a circle.
"Chance Goodman!" I shouted, my anger and pain loud and clear. "You don't sneak up on someone like that."
The man was ten years older than I and lived on the nearest ranch. His parents had died a few years earlier and with much success, he'd taken over the spread, adding more cattle and even studding out his prized bulls. The latter made me flush every time I thought of it, for I knew what happened between a man and a woman—Miss Trudy and Miss Esther were former brothel owners and had given each of us girls a special talk—and I'd always pictured Chance's face in my mind when I imagined such acts. I'd seen one of his bulls and the...the thing that hung down from beneath its belly and it had me wondering what Chance would look like. Would he be large himself? Would he be just as aggressive when he mounted a woman? My nipples always tightened into hard points and I felt slickness between my legs every time I imagined such a scenario.
There was no other man for fifty miles who was so fine a specimen of manhood as Chance Goodman. I'd thought so when I was nine, and I thought the same now at nineteen. His hair was a chocolate brown which he let run toward the overly long. He towered over me; I only came up to his shoulder and made me feel...feminine. There were eight women in the house who cared about ribbons and lace when I was more interested in saddle leather and branding. But Chance often made me wish I'd combed my hair or worn clothing that made me appear more comely, at least in his eyes.
It wasn't his broad shoulders or thickly corded forearms that had my heart pounding whenever I saw him. It wasn't the way a dimple dented his cheek whenever he smiled. It wasn't the strong jaw nor the big hands so much as his dark eyes that attracted me. He was the only person who passed whatever facade I raised to hide my true self. It was as if I were constantly exposed, every emotion and feeling I had was clear as spring water to him. I couldn't hide from him, even when, like now, he stood right before me.
"Here, let me see." He took my hand as I turned toward him. Before I could step away, he lifted it up so he could look at it, then, to my complete and utter surprise, slipped my injured thumb into his mouth. My own mouth fell open in utter surprise. My thumb was in Chance Goodman's mouth...and it felt good. His tongue flicked over the injured tip, sucking on it as if withdrawing the pain as he would venom from a snakebite. His mouth was hot and wet and my finger pulsed—among other places—and it wasn't from the hammer.
"What...what are you doing?" I asked, my words tumbling out in a confused rush. Chance had never even touched me before. He'd given me his linked palms to use as a step to mount a horse, but that was nothing compared to this. The way his dark eyes captured mine as his tongue flicked over my thumb was new. Gentle, possessive, hot. God, this was the most carnal thing I'd ever experienced and it was just my thumb! What would happen to me if he took even greater liberties?
At that enticing and very scary thought, I tugged my hand back. He could easily have kept it, for his strength was so much greater than mine, but he released me of his own choosing.
"Better?" he asked. His voice was deep and rough, reminding me of stones in the river.
I could only nod in response, as I was still flustered.
"I think this is the first time I've made you speechless." The corner of his mouth turned up and his dimple appeared.
I put my hands on my hips, ignoring the pain. "What do you want?" I asked, my tone acerbic.
His gaze raked over my body, assessing. He sighed. "Right now? I want to know what's wrong."
"Besides my thumb?" I held my hand up. "Nothing," I grumbled.
"Rose," he said, his voice raised in that irritating warning tone.
"What? Can't a girl have some secrets?"
His dark eyebrows went up. "Since when do you consider yourself a girl?" He glanced down at the pants I wore instead of the skirt or dress of every other female. The barb stung, for it only validated my earlier insecurities. He didn't think of me as a woman. He thought of me as...Rose. Plain Rose in pants. What man could ever be interested in a woman who'd rather wear pants than ribbons and lace? What man could desire a woman who hammered fence posts?
"Since...." I clamped my mouth shut. "Oh, bother." I turned away from him and stomped off.
"Is Dahlia pestering you again?" he called out. "Or did Marigold eat your breakfast?"
I knew he was toying with me, for he'd never poke fun at the other girls. He was too much of a gentleman. It didn't keep him from poking fun at me. When Miss Trudy and Miss Esther found us girls, orphaned after the great Chicago fire, they hadn't known our names. Why they gave us all names of flowers, I'll never know. Moving to the Montana Territory had been a way for all of us to start over, especially Miss Trudy and Miss Esther. Well off from their years running a big city brothel, they'd wanted a new life and found it outside the town of Clayton. We were infamously known as the Montana wildflowers and were always considered as a group of eight, not as individuals.
"Everyone is the same. Nothing's changed."
"Are you wanting something different then?" He leaned a hip against the battered fence post, relaxed and at ease with himself while offering me his complete attention. I saw his horse in the distance, head lowered and nibbling grass. A bird flew overhead, its wings still as it rode a wind current.
"Something different? Of course I want something different!" I waved my arms in the air as I spoke. "I want to be independent, wild. Free! Not stuck in a house full of women who gab all day long about hairstyles and dress sleeve length. I want to do what Miss Trudy did—strike out and discover a whole new life in a far off land."
He patiently let me vent my spleen. "What do you plan to do?"
"I don't know, Chance, but I'm about to burst out of my own skin. Don't you see? I don't belong here anymore." I lowered my head with that admission, for I felt shame and guilt press heavily on my heart. Miss Trudy and Miss Esther had done so much for me, for all of the girls, and I was tossing all those years, all the love aside. I pressed once again to that spot on my chest as I felt tears well. Lifting my head to the sky, I sniffed and forced the tears back. I didn't cry. I never cried and I was mad at Chance for making me feel this way.
With his long stride, he walked toward me through the tall grass and tilted my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to look at him. My hat fell off my head to dangle by the long cord around my neck. His scent, a mixture of warm skin and pine and leather was something I associated solely with him. "No. You don't belong here anymore."
I couldn't believe that he agreed with me. The one person who I expected to fight for me—my friend—agreed with me. He wanted me to leave. I tore my chin from his hold and stomped over to my horse, quickly mounting. Using the reins to turn the animal, I gave Chance Goodman one last look. It was time to move on; he'd just confirmed that for me. My heart hurt, knowing I'd never see him again. I settled my hat back on my head, gave it a little flick with my finger in farewell and rode off. Not only did the tip of my thumb ache, but also my heart.
2
ROSE
The sky was black as pitch, just as dark in Clayton as it was on the ranch. Only lanterns shining from a few houses lit the way. I'd left my horse at the livery and made my way toward the boarding house. The night was warm so I didn't need a shawl or a coat, and only carried a small bag. I would take the next stage out of town, not caring whether it ventured east or west. Clayton wasn't large, but the livery was across town from where I would spend the night, forcing me to walk the distance alone. It wasn't the best choice considering the kinds of men that passed through town, but there was no alternative. Mines abounded up in the mountains and Clayton had the nearest saloon. This meant whiskey and women. It was one of these men who I unfortunately encountered on my way.
I walked quickly with my small bag over my shoulder, but the man had caught me unawares, stepping from between two buildings and into my path. I'd been thinking about Chance and our parting words. I didn't have a gun or a knife or any kind of weapon to protect myself when I walked directly into him with an oomph. I couldn't see his face in the dark but distinct body odor of sweat and whiskey emanated from his pores. His hands were quick and grabbed me about the arms.
"Look what I've captured! A lady of the night."
"I beg your pardon! I do not look anything like a lady of the night," I replied, offended. Despite my being unladylike, I did not deserve the comparison. I fought against his hold, a burst of energy making my heart beat swiftly. "Unhand me!" I cried.
"Oh, no. You're mine now." He roughly spun me around so that one of his arms banded about my waist in a viselike grip, making it difficult to breathe. His hold was strong enough where he lifted me up so only the tips of my toes touched the ground. The other hand went over my mouth, grimy fingers preventing me from screaming. I knew this because I tried, yet it only made him rougher in his manhandling. I was dragged into an alley, then behind a building. The hand came from my mouth for a moment to open a door, only to return it and squelch another scream. Using a foot, he kicked the door shut behind him, making the cheap windows rattle. I could hear a tinny piano playing and the air was heavy with the smell of whiskey—not just from my abductor—and thick cigar smoke.
A man scrubbing dishes in a deep pump sink turned his head and paused, plate in hand. I made sounds against the palm over my mouth, my eyes wide, pleading for him to help me, but he just turned back and continued his task. A narrow wooden stairway led upwards and the man turned sideways so we could both fit as he climbed, bumping me into the rough-hewn wall.
At the top, he released me, my feet touching the ground and air entering my lungs. I could see the top of a second stairwell at the far end of the hall, the music louder from here. A woman—who most certainly was a lady of the night—stood scantily clad speaking with a man who seemed quite pleased with her forward attentions. Further along were two men who leaned over a railing, presumably to view the saloon downstairs. I had no doubt as to my whereabouts; the establishment had been just down the street from where the man grabbed me and it was easy to infer from the men, the woman and the liquor.
"You can scream, but no one will help." The man leaned down to speak directly into my ear. His breath was hot and fetid. "They'll think you're playing, that you like it rough. I do. I like it when a woman fights."
A bitter taste filled my mouth at his unpalatable words. My only consideration was preventing this man from pulling me into one of the many rooms that lined the hall. From Miss Trudy and Miss Esther's tales, I knew what occurred in the upstairs of a saloon, and it wasn't for me. Screaming and running off might not bring me the help I wanted, for someone might just drag me right back to the man or take liberties himself. I had to defend myself!
I remembered what Miss Esther had taught us about fending off an overeager suitor. This man most certainly wasn't a suitor, but he more than qualified. I raised my knee and stomped down onto the top of his foot with all my might. He had heavy leather boots that softened the blow, but it surprised him enough to loosen his grip. I rammed my elbow backward, directly into his man parts.
A muffled, high-pitched groan came from between his clenched teeth.
His hands went to cover his injury and I didn't delay. I dashed down the hall in the direction of the front stairwell.
"I'll get you, bitch."
At his hissed warning, I turned my head to look back at the dastardly man, which prevented me from seeing the man who stepped into my path. I ran solidly into him with my shoulder and my head. Once again, strong arms banded about me.
"No. Let me go!" I fought him with a burst of energy founded in fear.
"Rose. Stop." The voice was familiar, but that wasn't what had me stilling. It was his scent that I recognized. Chance.
I settled immediately and looked up at my friend, my savior. I didn't see the friendliness or warmth I usually saw there. Instead, his eyes were narrowed, his jaw clenched tightly and a tick pulsed in his cheek. He was more warrior than cowboy. "Did he hurt you?"
His dark gaze raked over my face, then my body as he pushed me away from him. He didn't release me, keeping a firm grip on my shoulders. This time, I did not mind a man's hands upon my person, nor his roving stare. Besides the odd thumb incident earlier in the day, it was the only time he'd touched me. His hands were quite large and very warm. The solid weight of his grip was comforting instead of confining.
My assailant had recovered somewhat and made his way over to us, back stooped. "She belongs to me." The fury that coated his words made his tone even more petrifying than before. I knew now that if he were alone with me, being raped would be the least of my concerns. He had a cloak of menacing danger about him that had me stumbling back a step and against Chance's solid body.
"I believe the woman disagrees," Chance countered.
I nodded my head vehemently, hair falling in my face. I tucked it back behind my ear.
The other man wiped his mouth with his fingers as he stared at me. "Doesn't matter. She was out on the street flaunting her...attributes." His gaze lowered and I shivered, knowing he was thinking carnal thoughts about me.
"I did no such thing," I replied, my voice laced with indignation.
"If she did as you said, then I assure you that she will be readily punished for her behavior. My...wife is not right in the head."
I turned to look up at Chance. The man shifted his attention as well.
"Wife?" we said in unison.
What kind of lie was Chance perpetrating? I was most certainly not his wife.
"I think we can agree that this little incident never happened. I don't need word about my wife spread any more than people want to know you abducted a lady. But if I so much as see your face again, I'll haul your ass to the sheriff only after I beat the stuffing out of you." Chance's words held bite and the other man knew it. He took a step back, recognizing his evening plans had quickly changed.
"If she's as crazy as you say, you should keep a closer watch on her, mister." He pointed at me as he retreated. "She could come across someone with less savory attentions in mind."
The irony of the man's words was not lost on Chance. He pushed me behind him and stepped toward my assailant, fists clenched. The man knew his time to leave had come, and I watched around Chance's broad torso as he fled the way we'd come, his footfall heavy on the back stairs.
Only the sounds of the piano music and voices filtered up from the saloon below. The hallway was deserted now. My heartbeat was loud in my ears, my breathing fast.
Chance turned and faced me, hands on hips. I wasn’t just thankful that he’d saved me. Thrilled, even. But I was also embarrassed at being caught in such a compromising, weak position. I had been able to take care of myself on the ranch, but only a few minutes in town alone and I needed a rescuer.
I was also angry, and angry hid humiliation very well. "Why did you say that about me?"
His eyes narrowed into slits. "The only way the Rose Lenox I know would do something so utterly stupid is if she were not right in the head."
Gone was my longtime friend. In his place was a man I didn't recognize—intense, bold and very, very virile. I'd always seen Chance as a man, but not a man. This was different. He was different. Although his ire was directed solely at me, I couldn't help but appreciate this new iteration of Chance Goodman.
"I think there's something wrong with you. You told the man I was your wife!"
His brows went up and he grinned, showing me a flash of straight white teeth and his dangerous dimple. "I did." When I continued to just glower at him, he continued. "He wouldn't have just handed you over to me, especially since you practically unmanned him. I had to claim you."
"You did not have to do any such thing. Dragging me bodily from the building would have been sufficient."
"Don't worry, I still intend to do that," he vouched. "Let's go."
He took my arm and led me down the stairs, across the saloon and out into the dark night. I kept my head down and remained as close to Chance's side, having no interest in remaining within a moment longer. The air was cool and fresh and I was relieved that he'd saved me. I knew how close I'd come to a dire situation and I would thank the man readily enough, but I was still fuming over his tactic. I was not his wife, nor remotely insane.
I was lost in my thoughts and only realized we'd stopped when Chance knocked on a door to a small house. Looking around, I noticed we were just off the main thoroughfare beside the jail. After a moment, the door opened.
"Good evening, Sheriff," Chance said to the man, removing his hat.
Sheriff! "You're going to have me arrested? You are the one not right in the head, Chance Goodman!" I stepped back from him, shaking my head.
The sheriff stepped out of the doorway, the soft yellow light from inside his small home illuminating the three of us.
"I should have you thrown in jail for your own protection, but no. No jail for you," Chance replied.
"Miss." The sheriff nodded his head in my direction, and then looked to Chance. "Goodman, it's been a long time. What can I do for you?"
"I'm in need of your services," Chance replied. He was going to have me arrested. The gall of the man! "As Justice Of The Peace."
I froze at his words. Justice Of The....
The sheriff grinned.
I frowned. "You really want to marry me?" I pointed at Chance. "It was just an excuse to get out of that bad environment."
"Bad environment?" He shook his head, taking a moment. "You were on the second floor of the saloon, Rose, with a man who had plans for your person that were less than consensual." Chance shook his head slowly, his eyes on me. "Oh, no. You need a keeper, and as I told the bastard you would be punished. I don't have any right to punish you, Rose, unless you're my wife."
"You're going to beat me?" I countered. "Sheriff, did you hear that? He's going to beat me."
The older man's hands went out in front of him in surrender, but remained quiet.
"I'm not going to beat you," Chance replied with a weary sigh, took his hat off and ran his hand through his unruly hair. "I protect what's mine. You're mine, Rose. Always have been. I'll even protect you from yourself."
My mouth fell open. You're mine, Rose. Always have been. Those words spun around in my brain making me dizzy.
"Let's get this done, Sheriff."
3
CHANCE
"Let's get this done?" Rose repeated, her voice full of sarcasm and surprise. The little hellcat was just getting started. I stifled a grin, knowing it would only build her ire to a fevered pitch if she saw it, but I loved her spirit. That spirit, however, put her into a heap of trouble. I didn't know if I wanted to strangle her or kiss her. The stupid, beautiful woman had no sense, venturing alone at night. Of course, a man would grab her and want to have his way with her.
I wanted to. I'd wanted to for far longer than I should have, but I'd bided my time. At least my intentions were honorable. I hadn't even touched her until today. I’d kept my distance, afraid I'd do something rash like kiss her if she were within reach. Earlier, when she'd hurt her thumb, all I wanted to do was take her hurt away; I didn't even think about my actions until I had the soft tip of her thumb in my mouth. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever done. Seeing the look of surprise and...desire flare in her eyes had my resolution to be patient crumbling. I was resolute now in another way. I would have her; I would make her mine. I would keep her safe. If I could only get her to agree to the damn marriage then I could ensure that. Until then, she would go about wild and untamed, a danger to herself.
"You didn't even ask me!" she shouted. She was so small next to me, petite and dainty, but she was far from it. Feisty, spirited, uninhibited would be more apt.
"You didn't stick around the ranch long enough for me to do so," I countered.
The sheriff chuckled and mumbled something about a hotheaded couple, but we ignored him.
She looked taken aback, as if she hadn't known I would ask her. Perhaps I'd been too successful in hiding my interest.
"I...I didn't know," she replied, her voice soft.
"Of course, you didn't. You’re too young."
"I'm nineteen!" She paced around in a circle and I watched her, enjoying the sight of her in a skirt and blouse—unusual attire for her. Her hair had been in a bun at the nape of her neck but the pins had fallen out, leaving the curly blond locks wild down her back. She tucked some wayward strands behind her ear absently. I'd never seen it unbound, for it was always tucked beneath her hat or in a thick plait down her back. The sight of it long and free-flowing was something intimate for only a spouse to see. I saw it as a sign that she was to be mine. It made me want to tangle my fingers in it, wrap the tresses around my hand and tilt her head back so I could kiss her. Claim her mouth and very soon, claim her body.
"I came to Clayton to ask you, but then when I found you with that man, I had to save you from getting yourself hurt."
"You followed me." She hadn't stated it as a question.
I ran my hand through my hair, and then stopped her pacing with a hand on her biceps so she'd look at me. "I've always followed you, Rose. Always will."
"But you said—" She bit her bottom lip.
I frowned. "Said what?"
"Earlier, when I was mending fences, you said I didn't belong on the ranch anymore."
Shaking my head, I slowly pulled her closer. "No, you said you didn't belong on the ranch anymore, and I agreed."
"Same difference," she muttered, not meeting my eye anymore. "Then why didn't you let me go?"
"You don't belong on the Lenox ranch anymore, kitten. You're being stifled there. You know it and I can see it. I've seen it for a stretch now, but earlier, I knew you'd decided it was time to move on. You belong with me on the Goodman spread. As a Goodman, Rose Goodman."
Her green eyes widened. "You mean...I thought—"
I put my finger over lips. "You thought wrong."
The sheriff cleared his throat. "This is touching and all, but are you needing my services or not?"
"Well?" I asked. "Rose Lenox, will you marry me?"
"Why are we riding back to your ranch when we could stay at the boarding house?" Rose asked.
It was late, well past midnight, but the moon had risen and our path was bright. The ride was only an hour to the ranch house, but it seemed to be interminable. With the vows said, the chaste kiss shared, and the sheriff once again reading his book, I was in a hurry to get my wife home. She sat sideways upon my lap, her ass shifting with the motion of the horse making my mind distracted and my cock very eager. The only thing preventing me from claiming her was the distance from our current location and my bed.
"I don't want to have an audience for our wedding night." I shifted, my cock aching and uncomfortable in my pants.
"Audience? I had my own room."
The corner of my mouth ticked up at her innocence. "I'm going to make you scream your pleasure, kitten, and I guarantee everyone would have heard."
"Oh," she murmured, shifting in my lap some more. She was secure within my hold, my arms around her as I held the reins, her head tucked beneath my chin. Her scent was soft and familiar to me, but having her so close had the floral scent surround me. Somehow, she smelled just like her name. All of her adopted sisters were named after flowers and Rose wasn't even the oldest. Marigold was. Yet Rose was the first to marry.
"You tricked me, you know," she said as we climbed a small ridge. There were mountains in the distance to the west, but it was not bright enough to discern them.
"Tricked you?" I may have followed her to Clayton, even applied a little coercion to wed, but she wanted the union as much as I. She just hadn't had time to consider and accept it.
Femininity was not something she flaunted. If a man saw past her tomboyish ways and came calling or expressed the slightest interest, Rose directed him toward one of her sisters. She wore pants and usually had pieces of hay caught in her hair. I was the only man she'd allowed into her life, the only man she told her secrets to. The only man who wanted her just as she was, all prickly exterior hiding a most passionate interior, was me. I'd been ready since the day she turned eighteen. Hell, even then I’d waited another seventeen months. ‘Tricked’ would not be the word I'd use. ‘Patient,’ just or ‘ready’ would all be more apt.
"You told that awful man I was your wife. You didn't need to do that and now look at me."
I couldn't see her well from my position, but I could feel her. Smell her. Ache for her. Her hips were slim, yet I could feel her lush curves nonetheless.
"You let yourself fall victim to a lecherous man with no moral leanings," I countered. I wouldn't kowtow to her.
She was perturbed that we'd wed, but she was sore about something else, and it wasn't that I'd told the bastard a lie. I just had to be patient enough to find out what it was, which was going to be a hard task. My patience with her was at an end.
"This wasn't my plan, Chance. You took away my plan!" She waved her hands as she spoke, bumping into my arms.
Ah, now we were at the crux of her frustrations.
"I took away your plans? You ran away, like a child!" I took a breath. "What, pray tell, were your plans?"
I'd listened to her like this for years. Heard her woes since she was a little thing. A pet chicken that had ended up in a soup pot. A skinned knee falling from a tree. A boy from town who'd dipped her braid in ink. A rope swing that was used to cross a creek instead of a bridge. An interest in running her own ranch. As time went on, her problems and plans changed, from simple to sophisticated, from childlike to mature. All the while I'd listened without offering any advice, or help. Until today.
While she lived in a loving home, it was crowded, and the other members of the female household frowned on what they considered Rose’s manly pursuits. Her ideas were stifled. She was stifled, but she'd never done anything reckless enough to endanger herself before.
"I was going to take the next stage out of town. East or west, it didn't matter. I just needed to be gone."
The idea that she would venture alone without a plan or direction had my palm twitching. She needed to be taken in hand before she hurt herself and I wasn't there to save her.
"With just the clothes on your back? How much money do you have?"
"Fifty-six dollars."
I ran my chin back and forth gently over the top of her head, enjoying the silky feel of her hair. The action may have seemed gentle and comforting to Rose, but I did it as a way to stall my words, to allow me a moment to get my frustration to a manageable level so I could speak with a calm voice.
"The man at the saloon, I'm guessing he was offering you aid in your adventure?" I asked, my tone quite sarcastic. The very idea of that man's hands on her had my jaw clenching.
"He was an...unexpected impediment."
I couldn't help but grunt at that understatement.
"I know what you're thinking," she replied.
No, I doubted she did, for my thoughts veered to her either over my knee with her ass turning nice and pink or naked and her mouth occupied around my cock.
"Oh?" My voice had a noticeable growl to it.
"That I was impetuous."
"I have been aware of that for quite some time," I countered dryly. Nothing she'd said about her foray into freedom told me to the contrary. "Are you remotely aware of the things he was going to do to you?"
"I live with two former brothel owners," she countered, as if this made her an expert.
"Those things he was going to take belong to me, Rose. Me! Your maidenhead is mine. Your body is mine!"
She squirmed against my hold. "Let me go, Chance." Sitting sideways as she was, she dexterously worked her way out from the circle of my arms and slid off the horse. Any other woman would have landed unceremoniously on her ass, but Rose was an accomplished equestrian and landed on her feet readily enough and walked off, arms folded over her chest. I halted the motion of the horse and dismounted, letting the reins drop so the animal could eat the tall grass.
Rose was as prickly as the flower bearing her name. I had to learn not to goad her, especially when she was riled. I wanted her beneath me, not walking away. I needed to know, however, what her intentions were. Leaving town without a plan indicated desperation over forethought. Now that she was mine, this impetuousness would be curbed, her recklessness would be curtailed, or she would be punished. I could not have her hurt.
And so I was in a conundrum. She needed a gentle touch while at the same time a firm, guiding hand. I had to learn to curb her reckless ways while allowing her to bloom. She needed to bend in her plans, yet still flourish. All she had to do was let go and I'd catch her. She just didn't understand. It was going to be a battle of wills, but in the interim, there was one way we could be equals and I would show her readily enough. Once I got my hands on her....
"Rose," I called. "You’re my wife now. I'll never let you go."
"I wanted to be free!" She paused, her shape amorphous and ghostly beneath the moonlight.
"Free? Free? Alone and vulnerable is not free! You almost paid the price tonight with that bastard."
"I was going to run my own ranch somewhere. Statehood's coming and I want to be known as having the best one in all of Montana."
"By yourself? Even on the Lenox land you have Big Ed to help."
I spoke to her back and waited for her to turn. One word and I'd have her spinning to face me, yet she'd be full of spit and vinegar. I had to proceed carefully, slowly, as if she were a mare ready to breed: skittish yet excited, nervous yet feisty.
"I don't need any help." Her words were clear, but her conviction was waning. "I'm good at running a ranch."
"With no land? No stock? You're a Goodman now and you'll help me run mine. Ours. You don't have to go it alone, kitten."
She spun around, walked up to me and poked me in the chest. "I am not your kitten."
4
CHANCE
I grabbed her hand and pressed it against my chest as I curled my other palm around the nape of her neck. I nudged my hat off so it fell to the ground as I lowered my head and pulled her in for a kiss. This wasn't the chaste touching of lips from the wedding ceremony. This...this...was what I'd dreamed of, waited for. Her lips were plump and soft and when she parted them to gasp, I took the opportunity to delve deep. My tongue plundered her mouth, tasting her for the first time. The fist pressed against my chest relaxed and her fingers curled once again, but this time to grip my shirt to hold on. I angled her head as I wanted, boldly touching her tongue with mine, licking along her teeth, nipping at her lower lip. She was a novice, untried. A kissing virgin and that had my blood pumping, my cock pulsing against her belly.
No man had touched her before. I knew this from hearing the small sounds of surprise and longing that escaped her throat. I found the corner of her mouth, kissed her there, her cheek, her ear. "No. You're not my kitten right now," I whispered, my lips feather light on the delicate swirl of her ear. "You're my little wildcat."
She would fight me in everything, feel as if I'd corralled her like a wild filly, of that I had no doubt, but it would be quite the journey, this discovery of how it should be. But none of this was a concern for tonight. Tonight I would make her mine, show her the pleasure that could be found in being my wife. I'd show her the passion that was within her and give her a way to let it out, for there was no better outlet for her intense, wild nature than fucking.
"I don't know why I even thought to make you mine in a bed. I'm taking you, Rose, right here, right now. You want to be free, kitten. I'll set you free." My voice was gruff, my breathing deep, my need too great to wait a moment longer.
I stepped back just a sufficient amount so I could undo her blouse, but the buttons were too small for my large fingers. Ridiculous little buttons! I took hold of the two sides and tugged, the material parting easily.
"Chance," she moaned. “Oh, yes.”
Buttons went flying into the darkness. I stripped the blouse off her readily enough, letting it fall to the grass at our feet, loving the sound of her breathy consent.
"What the hell is this?" I asked, running my fingers over the white fabric wrapped about her torso. It was bright in the moonlight and it appeared as if she were a mummy from clavicle to navel.
Rose's head lowered, ran a palm over the material. "I...I don't wear a corset."
"That is plain to see." I tugged at the snug material but could not find a way to remove it. "What I don't understand is its purpose."
"It keeps my...my bosom minimized."
My fingers paused at her words. For a small woman I always assumed she was petite everywhere—that her breasts were small and pert. I had dreams about her breasts and how they'd feel in my palms. What she was sharing though was a surprise and I couldn't wait to unwrap her, quite literally in fact, like a Christmas present.
"How the hell do you take it off?"
Her hands went to her left hip, where I could discern a small knot. I fumbled briefly, but it came undone and the length of soft cotton fell and circled around behind her. Intrigued and fascinated, I picked up the tail end and pulled, which required Rose to spin around. It was like undoing a frayed end of a knitted sweater, pulling and pulling until it was just a pile of yarn. In this case, Rose circled around like a top, slowly, for I was enjoying the idea of unwrapping my wife until the last of the long strip was in my hand and she was bare from the waist up. Instead of turning to face me, she gave me her back, with her arms up to cover herself.
Her skin was so pale in the moonlight, a gleaming white, and her fair hair seemed dark in comparison. I could see the shadow of the long line of her spine. She would not turn and I smiled inwardly at the modest action of such an unbridled woman. A moment ago she'd been shouting at me, furious, and now she was quiet and demure. Stepping up to her, I placed my hands on her shoulders, which caused her to stiffen briefly, and slid her long hair so it rested over one shoulder. I couldn't help but kiss the elegant line of her neck. The scent of her skin was intoxicating, sweet and floral. It was a fragrance I would never forget.
I felt the frantic beating of her pulse beneath my lips and I kissed along that vertical path that ran up to her jaw and down to the juncture with her shoulder. Beneath my fingertips, her skin was silky soft, and I felt gooseflesh rise as I worked down her upper arms and over her crossed forearms. It was a warm night and I knew it was my touch that brought them about, not a chill. Holding each wrist gently, I lowered her hands to her sides as my lips kissed along her right shoulder. From my vantage point, I could see the full, plump swells of her breasts and nipples so dark in contrast. Her quick breaths had them moving and I couldn't help the groan that escaped.
I had to touch them, weigh them, feel them, for they were so unlike my fantasy. They were more.
"Why do you hide these, kitten?” I murmured gently. “They are perfection."
Wrapping my arms about her, I cupped her breasts in my hands—they weren't small at all but a perfect handful—and her head fell back against my chest.
"Because...oh, Chance, that's...um—" She licked her lips.
"Why?" I asked again, pleased to see she was so responsive. I ran my thumbs lightly over the plump tips and reveled in how they tightened into perfect little tips.
"Because they make me too curvaceous."
That was most certainly true. For her petite frame, they were quite bountiful.
"And because it was too uncomfortable to ride otherwise," she added.
The long strip of fabric was a practicality. Instead of lifting and enhancing a woman's curves like a corset did, Rose's solution allowed her to complete tasks on the ranch that would have been inhibited by plush endowments. A lush figure would also draw unwanted male attention. For that alone, I was thankful for her inventiveness. It had hid her assets remarkably well until I, her husband, discovered them.
"I think you will enjoy having them unbound." And so would I.
Taking each nipple between my thumb and forefinger, I tugged and listened to her moan. It was a combination of a cry and an exhale, yet it made my cock grow thicker and my hips shift into her lower back. I couldn't deny myself—both of us—any longer. Grabbing her hips, I spun her about and lowered to my knees so I had the perfect view of those secret curves.
They glowed in the moonlight, perfect teardrop shapes, her nipples tight and furled. I only had to move my head a few inches to take one into my mouth, the tip firm against my tongue. Her small hands tangled in my hair, pulling me in, holding me in place. I sucked and laved one perfect nipple with my mouth, tasting her sweet illicit flesh, my palm cupping the other as my fingers working the nipple. I heard her moans, felt her fast breathing against my mouth, and could feel her frantic heartbeat beneath my palm.
"Chance, oh!"
I let my hands roam, up and down her sleek back, around her waist, but her skirt was an impediment. I fiddled with the closure, then let the fabric drop and pool at her feet as I switched to suckle at her other breast.
Sitting back on my heels, I took in the sight of her, from her boot covered feet, her stockings and those pretty ribbons that held them up, a small bit of creamy thigh that was exposed below her white drawers, the small indent of her navel, her full breasts, dainty collarbones, slim neck, plump lips, and then...eyes that were wild with the blurry haze of her first arousal.
"You're so beautiful, kitten."
She shook her head, a long tendril slipping over her shoulder to brush over her nipple. I felt jealously toward a wayward curl. One of her arms came up to cover her breasts.
I shook my head. "Oh, no. You're mine now. Every beautiful inch. There's no hiding yourself from me. I'll know all your secrets." I took the hand she used to cover herself and placed it on my shoulder so she could balance as I took off her boots. "There's just one more secret, kitten." I then tugged at the small ribbon at her waist, letting the loose fabric drop to the ground.
I felt her fingernails did into my shoulder through my shirt. Her pussy—fuck—she was perfection. It was dark, too dark to discern her pretty pink folds, but I could see the hair that guarded it was the same pale color as on her head.
My release tingled at the base of my spine and I knew if I pulled my cock from my pants it would all be over. I’d waited so long for this moment, yet she was a virgin and needed to be ready. “Fearful” or “nervous” or “modest” were not adjectives I'd use to describe a woman who was ready to be claimed for the first time. It was my job to get her ready. And so I did what I'd longed to do; I lowered my head to taste her.
"Chance! What are you doing?" Instead of her fingers gripping me, she pushed at my shoulders, stunned by my very forward gesture. I'd only touched her with my nose before I was shoved back onto my heels.
"I'm going to eat your pretty pussy. Hang on." Wrapping one arm behind her knee, I lifted her leg and placed it over my shoulder so she was wide open for me. She might fight me in this, but I would ultimately win. Although, it wasn’t a competition. As soon as she discovered how good I could make her feel, she’d want more. With the tip of one finger, I ran over her slit with the lightest of touches, forward and back, finding her slick and hot, before parting her plump lower lips and finding her clit. There!
I lowered my head again, this time I flattened my tongue and laved her in the path my finger took, ending with a small flick over her hard nub. Now when she called out my name it was for a completely different reason. Her hips bucked and I wrapped an arm about her hip, my palm gripping her lush ass and holding her securely in place. I smiled against her, pleased with her response.
Her taste was mouthwatering. Sweet, yet unlike anything I'd ever tasted. It was perfectly Rose, and I was addicted. Her flesh was hot and wet and scalding against my tongue and the way she responded, the way she tensed and tugged at my hair as I flicked her bundle of nerves had me eager to find out her responses when I was buried deep within her. First, she would come. I would watch her as she found her first pleasure and would drink down every drop of her essence.
With my free hand, I found her untried opening and slowly slid a finger in. Instantly, her inner walls clamped down, holding it in place. She was tight, so fucking tight and that was just my finger. She would surely strangle my cock. Once I got balls deep in her I could easily embarrass myself and come like I was a randy teenager, but I had to remember this was all for her. Her first time needed to be nothing but feeling, nothing but sweet bliss, and I would give it to her. It was my right. It was my privilege, and her pleasure.
I moved my finger, mimicking the motion of what my cock would do in short order. In and out I moved, slipping in a little further each time, quickly discovering her maidenhead, that amazing barrier that saved her sweet pussy just for me. I wouldn't break it with my finger, but with my cock and so I retreated, switching to circling and teasing her instead.
“Chance, oh my. What are you doing to me?”
I didn’t answer, only continued, for I knew she was close. With the quick flicks of my tongue and the motions of my finger, it wasn't long before her nails dug into my scalp, her thigh muscles clenching as she came. I looked up her perfect body and saw her head thrown back as she screamed, the quiet of the soft, warm night broken by her cries of pleasure. It was incredible to see, delectable to feel against my shoulder, my cheek, my hands and delicious to taste. Her juices were plentiful as her body became fully ready for my cock.
5
CHANCE
As her orgasm abated, her muscles went lax and I lowered her gently to the ground, quickly spreading out her long skirt beneath her. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open as she breathed hard, and the sheen of perspiration across her breasts and belly was bright in the moonlight. One of her legs was bent at the knee, her thighs parted in a way she would have found immodest if she weren't so sated. I took advantage of the moment and undid the placket of my pants, my cock springing free and pointing toward the woman it would fill.
I didn't hesitate, but lowered myself, placing my hands on either side of her head. Using my knees, I nudged her thighs wide, settling my hips in the cradle of hers. My cock bumped against her hot, wet flesh and I groaned.
"Kitten, look at me." My voice was deep and rough as it came out through gritted teeth.
Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at me, so innocently, so sweetly, so aroused. I couldn't resist lowering my head and kissing her. Instead of being tentative, her tongue eagerly met mine and the kiss turned carnal. Her motions were innocent and she had much to learn, but her eagerness had a will of its own. My hips shifted of their own accord, nudging my cock over her slick folds, and then nestling at her opening.
I lifted my head, met her stormy gaze. "You're mine, Rose, just as I’m yours."
I couldn't wait. I ached with every muscle in my body to not only fill her, but claim her. After this, there was no going back. She'd be mine completely. Pushing forward, the wide head of my cock stretched her open. She was so tight, so hot, and I hissed as I sank slowly into her. Only the sound of our breathing and distant crickets filled the air. The moonlight made her surprised eyes sparkle, her skin glow. Her nipples were tightly furled and her hair a thick curtain behind her head. As I bumped into the barrier of her virginity, I knew then that I was home. This was where I wanted to be. The Goodman ranch could burn to the ground. Locusts could swarm and eat all the grass. The cows could all die from a blizzard. None of that mattered as long as I was with Rose. I wanted to fill her up as she'd done to me.
"Mine," I whispered, lowering my head to kiss her when I carefully broke through that last barrier to making her Mrs. Chance Goodman. I swallowed her cry of pain with my lips, soothed her with flicks of my tongue. Lowering to my forearms, I stroked a hand over her face, wiping a stray tear that had slipped down her cheek.
I was fully embedded inside her, the head of my cock nudging at the opening to her womb. Her inner walls clenched tightly, as if her body were afraid I'd leave. Rose's hands pushed, then pulled at my shoulders as her hips tried to shift beneath my heavy weight. I wouldn't relent, wouldn't ease up at all, for the only way for her to accustom herself was if I remained within.
It wasn't easy. Hell, a tooth pull from the town doctor was less painful than my cock deep within her and not being able to move. She needed time to let the pain recede, for once I started to move, there would be no stopping. She wouldn’t want me to.
"No more pain," I murmured. "Only pleasure, kitten. Only pleasure."
She nodded her head in short little motions, although she probably doubted me. When, and only when, she relaxed beneath me, her fingers unclenching on my shoulders, her thighs relaxing against my hips, did I pull back, slowly and very easily as she was dripping wet. Then I slid fully into her once again.
Her eyes widened, her lips parted. "Oh," she whispered.
I grinned. "Like that?"
This time when she nodded her head there was less worry and more eagerness. So I did it again. She shifted her hips and arched her back and I slid in a little bit further, and this time we both groaned.
"Holy hell, kitten, you feel so good."
"Yes, Chance. I...I had no idea." She licked her lips and that had me lowering my head, licking over the same spot myself. I kissed her as I began to move in earnest. She was so small in comparison to my large frame and I tried to take her gently, but when she lifted her hips and began to meet me thrust for thrust, I couldn't hold back. This was supposed to be a tender, sweet first time, but she would have nothing of it. Of course, she wouldn't. This was Rose. My Rose. She did everything with zeal, with her entire being and that included fucking. And so I didn't hold back. I plunged into her and her head fell back. I grabbed hold of her hip and angled her just right and began to fuck her. Hard.
"You want it hard, Rose?"
"Yes!" she cried. “More.”
