Western Night Series Collection (Mail-Order Brides) Read online

  “It was no trouble. Now, the two of you get some rest. I’ll see you both tomorrow,” he said with a wink as he turned and walked down the path.

  “Caleb,” Melissa had run after him and her big blue eyes were full of tears. “Thank you. She kissed him. “I don’t care if the neighbor’s watch,” she said boldly as she let her hands slip down to caress his buttocks as he gladly kissed her back.

  “Looks like I’d better make an honest woman of you sooner rather than later,” he chuckled. “How about Saturday?”

  “Sounds perfect,” she said and ran back inside.

  Mrs. Suttle wouldn’t let her rest until she had heard everything, but seeing how worried the old lady had been about her, Melissa was happy to delay getting to bed. The pair sat up talking, sipping hot chocolate until the wee hours when they both finally admitted exhaustion. Melissa’s bed had never been more inviting, but she couldn’t help but imagine how much more perfect it would feel if she were lying with Caleb’s arms around her right now. Her body felt so alive when she was near him, so full of sensations she simply couldn’t describe. She hugged herself tightly, she could hardly wait until Saturday when she would find out just how much more pleasure her body might feel. If Caleb’s kisses were any indication, it would be more than spectacular.

  Chapter Eight

  “Mariette, thank you again,” Caleb said as they shook hands. Mariette signed the deeds with a flourish.

  “Congratulations, you now own a ranch house good enough to take a wife to,” she grinned.

  “Well, I do if I clean it up a bit first,” he admitted sagely.

  “Need a hand?”

  “I would love one. It is definitely more than a one man job. I’d be over the moon if we could have it inhabitable by Saturday.”

  “You go and see the Minister to arrange the ceremony. I will meet you at your new home. I’ll bring some friends. We’ll have it spick and span in no time!” Mariette said optimistically. Caleb grinned. He had already worked it out, that once Mariette decided you were a friend that it was for life. You had to do something pretty dire to lose her loyalty. He felt sorry for Bartlett that he had been foolish enough to lose the love of this incredible young woman. He didn’t feel sorry for her in the slightest. She had more than enough gumption to turn any situation into something positive. Nothing stood in her way.

  An hour later and he arrived at his new home to find over twenty people there, weeding the yard, sweeping the porch, cleaning inside and out. Old furniture was dumped unceremoniously in a heap, and old utensils and even clothes weren’t long behind them. “Mariette, I thought you said a few friends?” Caleb marvelled as he walked into his new bedroom to find her busy erecting a brand new bed. “What is this? How on earth did you get things made so quickly?”

  “Oh, Marshall has all sorts of things lying around his workshop. Whenever he has a quiet patch he makes extra. He brought everything up he had, I told him that you would need it all!”

  “You aren’t wrong, but how will I ever pay him for it? I just bought this place?”

  “Just call it a wedding gift, Caleb. And don’t you dare tell me I’m too generous and that you can’t accept it. I want to do it, and therefore I shall,” she said firmly. “Now, why don’t you let me finish up here, while you go and see your bride to be, or your damn cows or something? Leave the tough stuff to us women, we know best how to make a home!”

  Caleb was still chuckling at her words and the mischievous look on her face as he did as he was told. He didn’t return to his new home until much later that night, having spent a delightful afternoon taking Melissa to meet his ‘damn cows’. She had fallen in love with them at first sight. Her big blue eyes had lit up with pleasure as they grazed contentedly around them as they enjoyed their picnic.

  He could barely recognize the place when he walked through the door. Everything was clean and bright. Mariette had even white-washed the walls. Smart tables and fancy chairs stood in their perfect place, and there were even comfortable couches around the fireplace in the main room. It was cosy and welcoming. He went upstairs to find three rooms perfectly furnished with half-testered beds, vast armoires, and even Ottoman trunks full of clean linens at the end of each bed. This was definitely a home he would be proud to bring his bride home to tomorrow night.

  Saturday dawned bright and crisp, and Caleb went out into the yard where he proceeded to pour four buckets of cold water over himself from the well. He lathered himself up with soap, and carefully shaved, then dowsed himself off with a final cold water hit. He felt so full of energy, and could hardly wait to get to town. He took out his Sunday best suit, and even put on a tie before he headed into town in the wagon.

  He stood in the church, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his bride to be, with Mariette by his side laughing at his nervous fidgeting. But, just one glimpse of her as she walked towards him, her face alight with happiness and he felt all his worries melt into nothingness. He made his pledges, and was honoured by the emotion in her voice as she made hers to him. He kissed her possessively. Finally, they were man and wife. As they walked down the aisle Melissa beckoned at him to lean down so she could whisper in his ear, “How long do you think it will take you to get us home?” she asked with a lascivious look in her eyes.

  “About ten minutes if we really push it,” he said as he curved his arm around her waist to lift her up into the wagon before jumping up to beside her.

  “Well, I’d better not disturb you. I’ll just sit her like a good wife, and let you get us home as fast as you can,” she said matter of factly. Caleb couldn’t help but laugh at the contradiction between her words, and the look in her eye and the demure posture she had assumed, her hands clasped piously in her lap.

  Caleb had never driven so fast in his life, and they made the short journey up the hill and to the newly decorated ranch house. He took a quick glimpse at her face as they rounded the corner and she saw her new home. Her mouth opened in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise and pleasure. “Welcome home my darling,” he said happily. He pulled the wagon to a halt, and picked her up. He carried her swiftly to the door, and pushed it open awkwardly. “Would you mind terribly if we explored it later on?” he asked, pretty certain that he knew her answer.

  “I think I can wait, but I really must see my bedroom. I cannot possibly know if I will stay if I don’t,” she said cheekily. He kissed her hard.

  “I think I can manage that,” he said as he almost ran up the stairs with her still in his arms. He laid her down on the bed tenderly then lay beside her. She rolled over onto her side and kissed him. The kiss was deep, and full of passion. Caleb felt every part of him begin to react to her warm, moist little mouth. He caressed her tenderly, smoothing his fingers along the soft skin of her arms, moving to the tiny buttons at the back of her powder blue dress. He fumbled impatiently with the fiddly little hooks, but finally he was able to peel off the bodice, and helped her to untie and remove the full skirt and petticoats. “You are so beautiful,” he cried, as he buried his head between her breasts, kissing at the tender orbs of exposed flesh, and gently cupping what was still a mystery, clad in layers of cotton and lace.

  “This all seems inherently unfair,” she said, looking at him sternly. “You are wearing far too many clothes my darling.”

  “Well that is easy to address!” He scrambled out of his suit, and lay beside her completely naked. She gazed at him hungrily, began to trace her fingers over his chest and down his belly, staring in wonder as his manhood reared up towards her. She touched it tentatively, then more confidently as he sighed with contentment. He put his hand over hers and he showed her how to pleasure him, she learned quite fast and began to rhythmically slide her hand up and down, squeezing ever so gently. Unable to take any more, he groaned and rolled over so she was underneath him. “I love you Mrs. Green,” he said as he pulled at the lacy chemise that was all that now stood between them. She arched so he could pull it over her head, and pushed her hips up towards him. He ran his ha
nds gently down her body, to the apex of her thighs where he found her moist and ready for him. He plunged inside of her. She tensed, biting at her lip, then he felt her relax and he began to stroke, in and out.

  “Oh Caleb, my husband, I love you, I love you,” she cried. He bent his head and suckled hungrily at the perfect pink nipple that was so taut and sensitive. She responded by grabbing his buttocks, pulling him into her ever deeper. He could see by her face that she was nearing her peak, he kissed her deeply, his tongue delving into her rosebud mouth. She came with a shuddering cry, as he spilled his seed within her folds. He collapsed on top of her holding her tightly. But not wishing to crush her, he rolled over onto his back so she could lay on top of him.

  “So, what would you like to do now? Explore the house, or let me continue to explore you,” he said as he took in every detail of her satisfied face.

  “Mmm,” she said thoughtfully. ”Well the house will still be here in the morning? Why don’t we stay precisely where we are?”

  THE END

  The Cowboy’s Child (BOOK 2)

  Prologue

  Mariette pulled her hat down over her brow tightly. She was so close, had so nearly gotten everything she could ever have dreamed of – all tucked away safely in the vaults of the Santa Fe bank. Just one more trip to the Ortiz Mountains, to glean everything she could from her claim and she would finally be able to lose the buckskins she wore, and become a woman once more. She didn’t miss the fripperies, the corsets, and hooped petticoats one bit, but she was lonely.

  It was hard to be in this wild country, surrounded by tough men who’d rob you as soon as look at you. She’d had to be a whole new person, Marcus Flint, a man who took no prisoners, and would fight tooth and nail to protect all he had. She had built up a persona, by dropping hints, telling tall tales about Marcus’ exploits around campfires to men too far in their cups to even make it back to their tents. She never let down her guard, kept up the gruff voice, and the surly manner whenever she saw anyone come near - and the novelty of her adventure had worn off long ago.

  As she rode up the worn pathway towards the little shack she had built herself some three years ago, she looked out at the beauty all around her. She hadn’t been able to enjoy it much, had spent those three years sleeping with a pair of pistols under her pillow, and a knife strapped to her ankle night and day. Prospectors weren’t too cowardly to attack someone in their sleep if they perceived you to have a more prosperous claim, and hers had paid out every season. She knew many of the men who worked the claims nearby all secretly coveted her spot, and she was thankful that so far Marcus’ reputation had kept them at bay. But it didn’t take much, one over confident braggart who thought he could change everything could make her life a living hell if he chose.

  She kept herself to herself as much as possible, had only really made gotten to know a few of the brave souls who toughed it out each year. Most came and went, some frustrated they had found nothing; others who had been lucky and found gold first time. Most of the men around her were foolish, as soon as they found even a smidgeon they were off down to the nearest trading post to exchange it, so they could buy beer and women. It was a lonely life, and she could understand their reactions – and many of them were just downright lazy. They had come out here expecting to get rich quick, and had found that it was nothing but backbreaking and laboriously dull work from sun up to sun down. But she had chosen, and even enjoyed taking the slow and steady route. Every bit of gold she had she had kept as gold. She figured it would always have value no matter what – she didn’t always trust in the promissory notes the banks and traders offered her. There were no guarantees with those.

  She made four trips a year to the vault, and each year her pile of gold grew. She was already a wealthy woman, but she wanted to be secure for life – no matter what may happen to her. She had seen too many women left abandoned by drunken husbands without means to support themselves and their children. She was determined that would never be her own fate. But, despite her low opinion of many of the men in her family, and of her current acquaintance, she hadn’t yet given up on the hope of becoming a wife, maybe even a mother one day.

  She wondered if Bartlett would be back this time. He was a handsome devil, and unlike so many of their peers he worked hard on his claim. But, like many of them it didn’t take much for him to head off to find the kind of entertainments only money could buy. She liked him, when he was sober he was good company, and easy on the eye to boot. Not that she could ever let him catch her as she checked out his tight buttocks as he bent over the river to pan for gold, or swept the sweat from his brow in an extravagant gesture as he stood shirtless on a hot day and stretched, his back muscles rippling in the sunlight.

  She often wondered how he might feel about her if he ever found out that she was in fact a woman, but knew that could never be until she had left this territory for good. She didn’t hold out much hope for him finding her attractive even if he wasn’t fazed by her androgynous existence. She was very tall, with auburn hair that could put a copper kettle to shame. She had no illusions, she knew she was what might be termed at best handsome, at worst many – but out here that played to her advantage. She kept her hair short, and tried to make she always looked a little dirty so nobody would ever realize she had no beard. So far nobody had ever been close enough to her to find her out, and she just had three months more to makes sure nobody else did.

  The night was dark, and she heard a rustling as she settled down into her bed roll to sleep. “Marcus, you still awake?” a voice called. She could tell it was Bartlett. She quickly pulled on her breeches and jacket and pulled on her hat.

  “You alright?” she called back wondering why he was returning so late.

  “I got lost on the way back from town. Been wandering around for hours. Then I saw your fire. You always lay it just so,” he said, “so I knew I was close.”

  “Come up and warm yourself. I’ll make us some coffee.”

  “Thanks.” He stared at her as he came to the fire. He hunkered down on his heels, and stared at her. “When you going to tell me you’re a female Marcus?” he said with a grin.

  “I wasn’t intending too considering I’m not,” she retorted.

  “Sorry, but I’d wager everything I have that if I were to catch you down at the creek, washing yourself that I would find that under those shapeless clothes that there is a shapely woman’s body. And, you forgot to bind your breasts to come out and meet me!” he said with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’d never tell a soul. I like having you around too much, you make being up here bearable.”

  Chapter One

  The saloon bar was empty. Hardy pushed his way through the swing doors and made straight for the bar. It had been a very, very long day. He was dripping wet, and was heartily wishing he had listened to the man at the staging post about twenty miles north of here. The man had laughed at him when he’d said he was going out to find work. The jovial old man had told him that a real storm was brewing, one that would make finding his way anywhere nigh on impossible. Hardy had dismissed his words. He had been conned by too many men wanting to get him to stay another night as he had made his way across the country to seek his fortune to even consider trusting someone who might profit from such advice. The sun had been shining and the sky bluer than a cornflower in summer. He had nothing to fear, he had been sure of it. Just an hour later and the black clouds had descended all around him, and the rain had begin to drip in fat droplets off the brim of his hat, and within minutes he had been soaked to the skin – shivering and unhappy.

  Now he needed a few shots of whiskey, a good meal, a hot bath and a place to stay for the night. He prayed that there would be opportunities in this little town that might supply all four. The barman greeted him warily. He’d been upset initially when people had been a little standoffish, even surly as he had ridden further West, but as he saw the tough conditions they lived in, and heard the tales of bandits, savage Tribes and all manner of criminal goi
ngs on he had begun to grudgingly accept people’s distrust of strangers. “Whiskey please, and could you tell me if there is a hotel nearby? I think I need to dry off and get me a bath!” He kept his tone light, polite, trying hard to let the man know, without him saying it in as many words, that he was okay.

  “No hotel Sir, but we do have rooms here. I believe one of them is free. I am sure we can accommodate you. How many nights do you intend staying?” The barman places a shot glass in front of him and poured a rich, amber liquid into it.

  “I’m not sure. Probably just the one night. I’m trying to find work out here, but have had no luck,” he said kicking his worn boots at the solid oak bar in frustration. The West was supposed to be the land of opportunity, well if you ignored the danger of course, but he’d yet to see anything that so much as had a faint whiff of being a chance for a better life. He picked up the shot glass and raised it in a sardonic salute, knocking it back swiftly. It hit his innards, and made him react with a sharp inhalation of breath. The barman grinned.

  “Well, Caleb Green may be hiring, he has a ranch just out of town – just took over the one next door too so will probably be looking for some help,” a rich, deep woman’s voice said from behind him. Her voice was sweet as butterscotch, as husky and rich as the whiskey now warming his belly. He turned to see where it had come from.

  Wow! The woman was tall, almost as tall as he was himself and he was just over six feet. She was mighty finely dressed though, and her eyes were alight with humour. She wasn’t pretty, no she was so much more than the insipid girls he had known back home. This was a real woman, with curves in all the right places - and if he wasn’t much mistaken, this was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted from life.