Destiny's Embrace

  “Yep. I’ll send her on to Stockton in another day or so, just to make sure she’s really ready for the saddle.”

  “Sounds good. Do me a favor and get somebody out to repair that fence. Decided I’ve got something else I want to do.”

  “Figured as much. Sent two men up soon as I got back here.”

  Logan smiled. “You think you know me pretty well, do you?”

  “Almost as well as you know me. Try not to get kicked or hit with rocks this time.”

  Logan laughed and walked over to the house.

  As he entered the door, she yelled, “Stop!”

  He froze. She was in the parlor on her knees with a brush in her hand. “I’m scrubbing floors. Doorway’s still wet.”

  The sleeves of her blouse were rolled up, and she’d undone a few of the buttons he longed to conquer to cool herself while she worked. There was perspiration on her brow and a rug beneath her knees to cushion her positioning. He’d never seen such a comely scrubwoman. “I’ll go around to the kitchen door.”

  “Thank you.” She went back to her scrubbing.

  Entering the house again, he was struck by the smell of lemon pervading the air. It was a far nicer scent than the one that had greeted him when the house was in shambles. Maybe having a housekeeper wasn’t such a bad idea after all, especially one he was having trouble keeping his hands off of. He cut through the dining room and stood at the edge of the parlor and found her still on her knees. “Smells much better in here.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Have you eaten since breakfast?”

  “No.”

  “Neither have I. Are you almost done?”

  “No. I still have the hallway, the washroom, and your bedroom to do.”

  He liked the idea of her being on her knees in his bedroom but not scrubbing the floor. “Can I distract you with the offer of food?”

  “I really wanted to get as much of this done as possible today.”

  “You can come back to it later. No sense in dropping from starvation.”

  “May I remind you that there’s no food here?”

  “I have a plan.”

  “Why does that concern me?”

  “Could be you have a suspicious nature.”

  “Could be I have a right to when it comes to you.”

  He enjoyed bantering with her and wanted it to continue but it wouldn’t if she spent the day doing chores. “You wound me, madam. I’m simply offering you sustenance, nothing more. So, how about I dump that bucket while you change into something a bit more dry.” As it stood, the front of her blouse was wet, and he could plainly see the outlines of her corset beneath, which brought back the dream of her breasts in the moonlight.

  “I am slightly sopped. All right, I’ll bite, but I’ll dump the bucket. It’s what I’m being paid for.”

  “Must you challenge everything?”

  “Yes, I must. I think women agree with you far more than is healthy.”

  He studied her with a smile. “Will you ever give me quarter?”

  “No, because you’d run over me like a team of horses.”

  “And you won’t allow that.”

  She shook her head. “Not you, or anyone else for that matter.”

  Determination momentarily hardened her features and he was reminded of her admission that she’d been mistreated before coming west. He was admittedly taken by her beauty but the small shows of strength were equally intriguing. “All right. You take care of the buckets. I’ll hitch up the wagon and meet you out front.”

  “Are we going to eat with your stepmother?”

  “No.”

  “Then where?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Surprise,” she echoed doubtfully.

  “Only way I know to keep you off balance.” That and kissing her, he reminded himself.

  “And you believe that to be a good thing, I take it.”

  “Give the lady a cigar.”

  She rolled her eyes. “All right. I’ll meet you in a moment.” But she was smiling, so he left her with his mood still high.

  Mariah dumped the dirty water into the yard behind the house and set the bucket and brush back on the porch. After drying her hands, she walked the short distance to her room and entered via its courtyard door. She had no idea what Logan was up to now, but housework did have her stomach longing to be fed, so she changed her blouse and skirt, took a brush to her hair and went to meet him.

  As promised, he was waiting beside the buggy.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded. She half expected him to lift her onto the seat, but he surprised her by simply offering her his hand in assistance. The warm contact sent heat wafting up her arm, and her heart pounded in reaction, but she refused to look his way lest he see it in her face. Once she was settled, he came around and took his seat behind the reins.

  “So, where are we going?”

  “Told you it was a surprise, so just relax.”

  “That makes me worry.”

  “Figure it would.”

  He drove them away.

  Chapter 13

  They set out toward the river, passing the corrals and the outbuildings on the way. All day long, she’d thrown herself into the household chores as a way to keep from thinking about this morning’s potent kiss, but now, without that to distract her, coupled with his presence on the seat beside her, the memory rose and refused to leave. She wondered if she’d be immune to his kiss the next time—the way one became immune to, say, the mumps. She was so out of her element, she wished Kaye was near so she could ask her if Carson’s kisses moved her in the same breathtaking manner.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  “Just thinking about my friend Kathleen and wondering how she’s faring.”

  “How long have you known her?”

  “Since primary school. She’s been a true friend since the first day we met.”

  “And how’d you meet?”

  So she told him about Liam Anderson and Kate’s father and Mrs. Ainsley’s dress. She left out the part about the whipping she’d received. The unfair punishment had left her bitter for weeks, not that that mattered to her mother. Once again, she wondered how she might be faring, but pushed the thoughts away.

  “So whatever happened to Anderson?”

  She shrugged. “I heard rumors that he wound up in a reformatory but no idea if they were true or not. I was just happy to never lay eyes on him again. I don’t imagine you were picked on in school.”

  “Nope. Had a few fights though, but never picked on anyone. Alanza would’ve taken a buggy whip to my hide.” He looked her way. “Do you want to continue your driving lessons?”

  “I do, but not with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you have no patience and frankly, you’re terrible at it.”

  “Mariah?”

  “It’s the truth, Logan. You are. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but to keep peace in the land, I should have someone else teach me, okay?”

  “Okay, but you really know how to wound a man.”

  She thought he kissed far better than he gave driving instructions, but she kept that to herself. His head was big enough as it was.

  A short while later, they arrived at the riverbank. It was the same area she’d stomped off to yesterday after pelting him with the rock. She looked over questioningly. “What’s to eat here?”

  “Fish, soon as I catch a couple.”

  “How might I help?”

  “By peeling some potatoes, and not throwing rocks.”

  She dropped her head to hide her smile. “You have a deal.”

  He came around to help her down, and this time, he swung her down very slowly before setting her on her feet. The heat of his hands on her waist made her think about his kisses yet again and he was standing near enough to flare her senses to life. Not wanting to succumb, she backed out of his hold. Hoping to sound nonchalant, she asked, “What kind of fish are i
n the water?”

  “Bass, mostly.”

  “Do you fish here often?”

  “Often enough. You ever been fishing?”

  “No.” She found herself staring at the shape of his mouth and lips. Catching herself, she snapped her eyes back up to his and saw him smile.

  “Let me get my pole and gear out of the wagon.”

  While he fished, Mariah peeled the four potatoes, and did what she could to offset his effects. Nothing worked—not thinking about scrubbing floors, or washing lamp chimneys or beating rugs. Every thought centered on him—from the shape of his mouth and the feel of it mastering hers, to the remembrances of his hard chest against her breasts, to the whispered word, querida. She glanced over at him standing on the bank. He was as bold in stature and ways as the wild, untamed surroundings. Were he on the streets of Philadelphia men would scurry out of his path and women would flock to him like birds to corn. Growing up, she had no idea men like him existed. In her world, the opposite gender was represented by gently raised men like Tillman and Kaye’s father. Granted, Tillman had no spine, but had he proposed marriage, she would’ve said yes because he was the type of man well brought up women were supposed to be drawn to. Yet, she found herself drawn to Logan Yates and it made no sense. He had a mistress, which told her he viewed her as just another female amusement. When it came to kissing and the rest, she might be a babe in the woods, but she took pride in herself and wanted a man who viewed her as more than just someone to dally with.

  It didn’t take him long to snag a few fat fish, which he promptly scaled, gutted, seasoned, and set in a frying pan over a fire he built in a nearby fire ring. A second pan held the potatoes. When everything was done, he produced two tin plates and tableware. She found the hot fish succulent and the potatoes excellently seasoned.

  “This is very good. You cook well.”

  “Thanks. Started cooking when I was around six or seven.”

  “That’s about the age I began to sew.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “No, not at first, but I didn’t have a choice. As I mentioned yesterday, she was a very strict taskmaster.”

  “The two of you didn’t get along very well, I take it?”

  “No.” Mariah thought back on her joyless childhood. In her mother’s household, there’d been no time for play. As soon as she came home from school, there was sewing to be done or household chores needing attention. As she grew older, she’d been forbidden things like socials at the church and parties given by friends. She’d never even celebrated her own birthday, but she didn’t reveal any of that to him.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” It still hurt to talk about how much her mother didn’t love her, and she didn’t know him well enough to trust him with such a painful truth. “Maybe someday.”

  “Sometimes demons are best conquered when shared.”

  The gently spoken words caught her off guard. His face mirrored his voice, but she still refused to reply.

  “Okay. I won’t press you.”

  “Thank you.” That he’d respected her wishes caused her to wonder about the man beneath all the arrogance and bluster. Who was he really? Needing to change the topic of conversation because he’d occupied her mind far too much already, she told him about Mr. Rudd’s visit. “He said the cabinets will be ready in a short while.” She’d noticed the way Mr. Rudd’s eyes kept lingering on Alanza during his visit and wondered if the two were sweet on each other. She didn’t ask Logan about that however, because it wasn’t any of her business.

  “You mentioned you ordered a stove and some other things. That sofa in the parlor is on its last legs. It needs to be replaced as well.”

  “Ordered one of those, too.” He then proceeded to tell her about all the items he’d ordered, and she found herself speechless. “You picked out china? What’s it look like?”

  He shrugged. “It’s white.”

  “Did someone at the store help you choose it?”

  “No. I looked through the catalog and found things that resembled the ones Alanza had and put them on the list.”

  His explanation went a little ways in allaying her fears about his choices. She supposed she’d just have to wait and see what everything looked like when the items arrived.

  They finished off their fish and potatoes, and Mariah wondered how such simple fare could leave her feeling so sated and stuffed. Now, she could return to work on a full stomach. “Thank you for the meal, I should really get back to my chores.”

  “Not yet. Have a favor to ask first.” Logan appreciated her strong work ethic, but for a man who’d never had a problem holding a woman’s attention, she was giving him a small fit. “My goddaughter will be attending Hampton Institute in a few months, and I’m wondering if you could sew her up a few of those dresses like the one you had on at the train station. She’s worried her clothes won’t be fine enough.”

  “You have a goddaughter?”

  “I do. Does that surprise you?”

  “Why, yes. What’s her name?”

  “Green Feather. She’s Wiyot Indian. Christian name’s Louisa.” The wonder on her face pleased him.

  “How many ensembles do you think she’ll be needing?”

  “I’ve no idea, which is why I thought I’d ask for your help.”

  “I wasn’t aware that Indians were allowed to advance their education. She must be quite the young woman.”

  “She is. Reverend Dennis made her enrollment possible. According to him, Hampton has been accepting Indian students since seventy-eight.”

  “I’d be honored to lend a hand. When may I meet her?”

  “Her family’s holding a Brush Dance tomorrow evening to bless her success. She specifically asked me to bring you along so the two of you could meet. Would you like to go?”

  Because she’d never attended social gatherings back in Philadelphia, Mariah’s first instinct was to decline. Reminding herself that she was no longer in Philadelphia propelled her to accept. “I’d love to attend, but what is a Brush Dance exactly?”

  “It originated with the Yurok people as a dance to heal a sick child or to bestow blessing on a child. Now, some of the tribes have them to celebrate special events, and Feather going off to Hampton is very special. When I was young, the dance would start on a Wednesday and end at sunrise on Sundays, but because many in the tribes have to work jobs to provide for their families now, the dance begins at the end of the day on Friday.”

  “Is it like a dance, dance?”

  “No. No reels or waltzing. This is tribal dancing and only the members are allowed in the circle, but there will be singers and food though. Would you still like to go?”

  “I would.”

  “Then we’ll ride over together tomorrow evening. We’ll probably be out fairly late.”

  “That’s okay.”

  For a moment, the silence of the countryside rose between them and as it stretched, his call on her senses grew so intensely she thought it might be best to end this interlude and get back to the distracting drudgery of scrubbing floors. “I—I should get back to my chores.”

  “Is my company so boring that you prefer housework?”

  The humor in his tone made her drop her gaze and smile. “I’m being paid to work, remember?”

  “Suppose I offer to pay for your companionship?”

  “Then I’d have to change my title from housekeeper to mistress, and I hear you already have one of those.”

  “And if I told you she tossed me over for a wedding ring?”

  “I’d say, bravo for her.”

  “You’re a hard woman, Mariah Cooper.”

  “Thank you.” Mariah had never spoken so boldly to a man before, but something told her that boldness would be needed to keep herself from falling into his arms the way half the female population of California was probably wont to do.

  “I’d like to kiss you again.”

  She decided that he was far more bold than she.
“No more kisses, thank you very much.”

  He closed the distance between them and she felt the dizziness creeping over her again. “Are you thanking me for the kiss?”

  “You know that isn’t what I meant.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  He reached out and traced a whisper-light finger over her lips. Her eyes closed in trembling response. “Hard not to kiss a mouth as sweet-looking as this . . .”

  Putting action to words, he touched his lips to hers and kissed her as lightly as he’d touched her. “Very hard . . .”

  “Not fair . . .” she whispered. The bones in her body were melting away.

  “All’s fair in passion, querida.”

  That word again. That pervasive heat again, and then he was kissing her in earnest and she surrendered, because in spite of all the reasons she wanted to deny him, she couldn’t deny herself the feel of being in his arms, or the desire unfurling inside.

  “Open your mouth. Let me taste you.”

  She complied, and he slipped the fiery tip of his tongue inside, playing, coaxing, seducing her there on the riverbank while the wind rustled the trees and the sun warmed her gently. His hands roaming slowly over the back of her blouse singed the skin beneath. His lips slid over the outer rim of her ear and then her jaw before dropping to set fire to the thin strip of flesh above her lacy high collar. Her head fell back and his tongue teased the spot beneath her chin while a pulse began to beat in the secret place between her thighs. Her mind told her being kissed by him was a terrible idea, but it no longer ruled the day. Ruling now were her senses, and a body enjoying learning what it meant to be a woman in the arms of a man.

  And because of that, she didn’t protest when he moved the palm of his hand over the tip of her breast. As the nipple swelled and she crooned, he looked down into her eyes while transferring the bold caress to the twin. The blaze in his eyes matched the blaze coursing through her blood and she couldn’t look away.

  Still berrying her nipples expertly, he leaned down and bit them gently through her clothing, which increased the pulsing beat between her thighs to such a spiraling crescendo that she flew apart, shuddering, shaking, and crying out, ”Oh!”