Destiny's Embrace
They found his stepmother and Andrew a short while later, and with a bow, Logan faded into the crowd.
Andrew watched his brother’s departure and said to Mariah, “He’s never met a woman like you.”
To which his mother replied, “And may you meet one just like her.”
He laughed. “And on that note, I think I will join my brother in exile.”
After he departed, Alanza said to Mariah, “Come. I see some people I want you to meet.”
Mariah spent the rest of the evening under Alanza’s wing. As night rolled in and fires were lit to help illuminate the gathering, they stopped at the food tables. Mariah ate fish and chicken and fruit and vegetables and cake until her corset threatened to pop. They then drifted over to watch the tribal dancing and listen to the singers. The dancers were inside a circle lined with stones. Unlike the feathers and paint she was accustomed to seeing on the plains Indians like the Sioux and Cheyenne in the newspapers at home, they were plainly dressed. A few of the women were wearing long skirts made of grass, but most of the men were in plain everyday attire of denims and shirts. The songs were sung in the tribal tongue to the beat of the drums. The voices sounded very foreign to her ears at first, but the more she listened, the more familiar the intonation became, and she found it pleasing.
While she watched the dancers make their way around the circle in time to the drums’ slow cadence, some of the female guests came up and asked her about her sewing. The word had apparently gotten around about her needle skills and they, too, wanted fittings and garments made. Mariah had no idea how or where she’d be able to accommodate them but Alanza promised to find her a space on the ranch and encouraged her to take on the work, so she did.
She and Alanza were talking about where she might set up her sewing operation when Reverend Paul Dennis walked up.
“Good evening, Mrs. Cooper. Mrs. Yates.”
They both greeted him.
“Are you having a good time?” he asked Mariah.
“I am. We don’t have anything like this in Philadelphia, I assure you.”
She thought he had a nice smile.
Alanza said, “I see someone I need to speak with. Reverend, will you watch over her for a moment?”
“I’d be honored.”
She departed and he looked around. “How about we take a seat over there.”
By the light of the fires, Mariah saw the bench he indicated. It was set back from the crowd but not so much that people would talk. “I’d enjoy that.”
She found she liked him immensely. He was from Dayton, Ohio, and a graduate of Wilberforce College, which was affiliated with the African Methodist Episcopal church. He had two younger sisters, and had been in California just under a year. He talked about his work with the local school, and his dreams of making his church a center of the community. He told her how proud he was of Feather and his hopes that she would enjoy Hampton and go far in life. He then stopped. “I’m sorry, I’ve been going on and on about me and my work. How about I keep quiet for a few moments and let you speak.”
Yes, she liked him very much.
“Tell me a bit about yourself.”
So, she told him about her life in Philadelphia, carefully skirting the uglier parts. She also told him about wanting to open her own seamstress shop.
“Did your late husband support your dream?”
Mariah went still, and lied, “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”
“Because some men think a woman’s only work should be in the home.”
“And you?”
“I used to think that way, but coming here and meeting women like Mrs. Yates and Miss Pearl over at the diner made me question that stance.”
“May I ask why?” Mariah had no plans to be with someone who’d deny her a chance to make her own way in life, no matter how nice he seemed. If she’d wanted to do nothing but housework, she would’ve stayed in Philadelphia with her mother.
“They impressed me not only with their Christian outlooks but with their devotion to their life and the people around them. I doubt they’d be such forces of nature were they confined to the role of a wife as it’s presently defined.”
Mariah applauded his thinking.
“So,” he continued. “That being said, would it be very forward of me to ask if I may call on you?”
She was moved by his very respectful approach. “No, it wouldn’t be. To be truthful, I’d enjoy getting to know you better.”
Over in the dark, on the other side of the dancers, Logan stood watching Mariah and Paul Dennis. Beside him, Andrew quipped, “I think you may have some competition.”
Logan ignored him.
“A girl can’t go wrong with a preacher man. Or at least so I’m told.”
Logan’s glower was hidden by the shadows.
“Are you really going to let him waltz off with the prize?”
“Would you shut the hell up.”
Alanza appeared out of the darkness on Logan’s other side. “They make a nice couple, don’t they?”
Since he couldn’t tell her to shut the hell up, too, he said nothing.
She added, “The reverend’s looking for a wife, and Mariah’s looking for a husband. Possibly a match made in heaven, don’t you think, Logan?” Not waiting for him to reply, she left his side as silently as she’d come.
“At least you know whose side Mama’s championing.”
The darkness couldn’t hide the malevolent look he shot his sibling, who responded with, “Shutting the hell up.”
Logan released a frustrated breath. He swore Mariah was intent upon driving him insane—not to mention Alanza. Their friendship was giving him the fit he’d envisioned. He wanted to go over there and punch the reverend in the nose for even speaking with Mariah, who now appeared to be laughing at whatever the man was sharing with her. Beating the tar out of a man of the cloth would undoubtedly get Logan his own room in hell, so he stood there and fumed.
Eli walked up holding a plate loaded down with food. “The good reverend and Mariah seem to be having a nice time.”
Logan shot him the same look he’d given his brother a moment before, then very calmly flipped the plate out of Eli’s hand and strode away.
“Hey!”
Andrew laughed until he cried.
Logan had no idea what to do about Mariah, but she and Dennis had been talking close to an hour. Time was up. Approaching, he said to Dennis, “There’s a man looking for you, Paul. Tall, handlebars. Wants to make a donation to the church. I think he might be leaving, but he wanted to speak with you beforehand.”
“Really? Who is he?”
“Never met him before, but he said he knew you.” Logan wondered about the penalty for lying to a reverend, but decided it had to be less severe than beating one to a pulp.
“Okay.” He stood hastily. “Mariah, my apologies for rushing off this way, but donations are the church’s lifeblood.”
“Quite all right, Paul. I understand.”
Paul! Mariah! Logan didn’t like hearing that they were now on a first-name basis.
“I will see you Sunday evening?” he said to her.
“Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”
“And Logan, thanks for finding me. I’ll see you in church.” After offering Mariah a respectful nod, he hurried away.
Logan asked her, “What’s happening Sunday evening? Is there a program at the church?”
“No, we’re having dinner.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dinner. You know. Sharing food.”
“Why?”
“Because he graciously extended the invitation and I accepted.”
He wondered if he’d ever become accustomed to how often she rendered him speechless. He finally found his tongue. “Dinner. Really?”
“He’s very nice.”
Some people walked by, and Logan nodded a greeting but he remained focused on Mariah and the way the firelight played over her beautiful face. “Are you ready to head back
?”
“I believe so, but I’d like to thank Feather and her parents for their hospitality before we go.”
He agreed, and once that was accomplished he handed her into the buggy and drove them away.
“I had a good time, Logan. Thanks for bringing me.”
“You’re welcome.” He couldn’t shake his irritation over her having dinner with Paul Dennis.
“Now,” she asked, “did you lie to Paul about the man wanting to donate to the church?”
He froze and hazarded a glance her way. “And if I did?”
She fell back against the seat. “I knew it! Logan, how could you?”
He tried to come to his own defense. “You were sitting with him for nearly an hour.”
“And?”
“That was long enough.”
“Are you my father now?”
He didn’t reply.
“You are not to meddle in my life, anymore. Do you hear me?”
His irritation fled in response to the joy he felt getting her all riled up. “Then I’m guessing you won’t let me draw us a hot bath so I can make love to you like I wanted to this afternoon.”
Mariah’s breath left her in a whoosh. “No,” she managed to say.
“You sure?”
“No.”
“No, you’re not sure?”
“I mean, no, you can’t, and yes, I’m sure.”
“You sound confused, querida.”
“And stop calling me that.”
His chuckle was soft as the night surrounding them. “Remember that dream I told you I had about us.”
She did, and so, didn’t respond.
“It was a night just like this one. Moon was fat in the sky. Weather was warm.”
He looked over.
She hung on to her silence.
“Cat got your tongue.”
“Do you plan to bedevil me all the way back?”
“I enjoy bedeviling you, but what I’d rather do is ease you onto my lap and kiss you the way we did in my dream.”
“And suppose I’m not interested?”
“There is that, but I think you are.”
“You are such an arrogant—I can’t believe your hats fit your head.”
He laughed. “And you’ll never have this much fun with Paul Dennis.”
“He’s a nice man,” she protested.
“True, but you need passion, querida, and you won’t get that from him. He’ll probably only make love to you in bed, at night, in the dark.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Where’d you have your first orgasm?”
As the passionate encounter on the riverbank rose to fill her mind, she refused to answer.
“I rest my case.”
“This is a very self-serving conversation, don’t you think?”
“Of course. Goes with my so-called arrogance, and my not wanting you to be with someone who won’t make love to you properly.”
“So now, you’re an authority on how I should be loved?” Mariah had had just about enough of him. “Stop the buggy.”
“Why?”
“Because since you are such an authority I want you to show me what I need to judge a future husband by, and if he doesn’t measure up, I’d like to be able to teach him what he needs to know.”
Logan found himself speechless again. He studied her face in the moonlight. “You want me to make love to you so you can tutor another man?”
“You seem to think it’s what I need, so yes.”
“Do you realize what you’re asking?”
“Yes, Mr. Arrogance, I do. Shall I move to your lap?”
He didn’t know whether to laugh or be appalled. “Okay, how about we compromise. I’ll show you, but I’ll let you keep your innocence.”
“Whatever you think is best, maestro.”
He dropped the reins and the horse stopped. “Come here,” he said softly and moved her onto his lap.
He studied the small, angry face with its feline gold eyes. She was the most spirited and fearless woman he’d ever had the pleasure to hold in his arms, and because of that, the lure of her was irresistible. He brushed his lips over her sweet, ripe mouth and coaxed her to join him. At first she sat stonily, but the more he cajoled and enticed, the softer her lips became until they parted with an invitation of their own. His tongue slipped inside and then toyed with the parted corners of her mouth. She trembled in response, her eyes slid closed, and he knew the anger was gone. Buoyed by her willingness, he continued to tempt her with fleeting touches of his mouth and began undoing the buttons on her blouse. “I’ll give you a short lesson now, and more when we get home . . .”
And there in the shadowy interior of the buggy with the moon shining down, Mariah allowed him to open her blouse. She realized belatedly that in throwing down this gauntlet she’d let her anger override her good sense and now . . . This was such a bad idea, a small voice scolded inside, but his lips and the hot tongue flicking against the bared skin above her shift and corset melted the voice and her as well. His palms trailed across the front of her shift to move her blouse aside, and as they glanced over her nipples they bloomed to life and she let out a whispery moan.
“You want a man to go slow, querida. Real slow . . .” he voiced, while placing fervent kisses in the valley between her confined breasts. He burned a trail up her throat, lingering on the way to make certain the skin in between caught flame. And while his lips set her on fire, his hands did the same. Moving up and down the surface of her shift along her torso, he circled the flat of his palm over her breasts and wantonly teased the sheltered nipples. She didn’t protest when he freed the three buttons on the front of her shift to expose her corset. “Undo your corset for me.”
She held his burning eyes.
“Men like to watch.”
His heat-filled voice flared like lightning over her skin. She’d never done anything so brazen before, but she’d started this, and something inside gloried in the idea of inflaming him the way he’d inflamed her. So, she slowly undid the series of frogs that held her corset closed from top to waist. When she was done, he pushed the halves aside and greeted the exposed twins with licks and sucks and bites from his gentled teeth. The play sent her soaring. The drum of desire pulsed between her thighs. As if he could hear the cadence, he slid her skirt up her thighs and touched her through her drawers. The orgasm shattered her like shards of glass, and her tortured cries filled the dark buggy.
Logan knew that if he didn’t have this woman he would surely die, but he’d promised not to compromise her innocence. All he could think about was slowly impaling her on his erection and letting her ride him until sunrise, but her first time shouldn’t be out in the middle of the countryside, and he considered himself a man of his word. So he watched her ride her climax instead and contented himself with savoring how wet she was and the taste of her nipples in his mouth.
When Mariah’s body finally quieted and her eyes opened, he was above her smiling down softly. Her first orgasm, on the riverbank, would always be memorable, but there were no words to describe this latest interlude. She could feel the hard heat of him beneath her hips and wondered about the entire act. He’d only used his hands between her thighs and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be fully loved.
“So?” he questioned quietly while worrying a slow finger over her damp nipples. “Was that enough?”
“No.”
“No?” he echoed unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.
“I want to know it all.”
He ran a worshipping finger down her cheek. “Do you know what that means?”
“I believe so.”
“What about your innocence?”
“I’m supposed to be a widow, I don’t need it.”
Speechless once again, he laughed softly. “Okay. Let’s get you to the house and finish your education.”
Chapter 17
When they arrived home, they kissed their way into the house.
They stopped just inside the door because passion wouldn’t let them go any farther. Their mouths mated, hands roamed and flush bodies flared. Mariah assumed this second round wouldn’t be as fiery as the first, but she was wrong. Each and every kiss and caress stoked her desire so high she thought she’d die from the bliss. He began divesting her of her clothing; first her still opened blouse, shift and corset, then came her skirt, slips and drawers. She’d been raised to view nudity as immodest, yet she was standing in his front parlor wearing only her stockings, garters and high buttoned shoes while greedily relishing the magic of his expert hands. It was decadent, dizzying, and so very wonderful.
Logan hoisted her into his arms and never once letting his mouth leave hers carried her down the hall to his bedroom. Laying her down in the center of his big four-poster bed, he ran his eyes ardently over her in the moonlight pouring through the window, and made short work of his own clothing. Nude and ready, he sat beside her and ran a bold hand over the peaks and valleys, playing special attention to the dark treasure between her thighs. Her eyes slid shut, her hips lifted in response to the silent tutoring, and unable to resist, he bent and showed her how carnally exquisite he thought her to be. She splintered almost immediately, bucking, rising, and crying out hoarsely.
When he rose and met her feline gold eyes, not even the shadows could hide the passion glowing there.
To his surprise, she whispered, “May I touch you, too?” Rising to her knees, she reached out and wrapped her hand around him. “Or is that improper?”
His growl of pleasure mingled with his amusement. Who knew she’d be fearless in bed, too? He placed his hand around hers and showed her the rhythm that opened the male soul, and because she was such an adept pupil, he backed away lest the hold of her small, hot hand end him too soon. “Nothing is improper if it brings pleasure.”
He reached into his nightstand to retrieve one of the small sponges designed to keep his seed from finding root. He quietly explained its purpose and admittedly enjoyed slowly settling it into place. From her sinuous reaction, she enjoyed the insertion as well. He spent the next few moments restoking her fires and when she seemed ready, he positioned himself. Leaning down, he whispered, “This may hurt, but only this once.”