Page 8 of That Fateful Ride

R ebecca blew out a breath and rocked on her knees before leaning over to splash her face with water. Lord she felt like hell. Staring at her reflection in the stream, she saw heavy circles beneath her eyes and the gauntness of her face.

This wouldn’t do at all. Mama would ask all kinds of questions. Polaris whickered behind her and she pushed unsteadily to her feet. Back in the saddle, she nudged her gelding toward home. The night was approaching and she should be home in time for dinner.

As she rode, she sucked on her last lemon drop. Her heart lightened when her family home came into view. A welcoming light shone through the encroaching darkness.

She unsaddled Polaris and turned him loose before heading to the house. The door opened when she set her foot on the first step. Her mother stood there.

“Rebecca?”

“Hi, Mama.”

“You home for good?”

“Two days.”

“Come on in and wash up, we were about to eat.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She walked in and saw her twin at the table. His smile made her feel so much better; at least he was mending. She changed, unbound her breasts, and washed up. In their kitchen, she stared briefly at the empty space for her father, the place he occupied when home. Licking her lips, she met her mama’s gaze. Worry brimmed in those eyes.

“You eatin’ enough?”

“Yes, ma’am, but home cooking is scarce there.”

She opened her arms. “Come here, baby.” That was what she’d been waiting for and flew into her mother’s comforting embrace. “You look sick, child.”

“I’m okay, Mama.”

Mama released her after one more squeeze. “Sit. Eat.”

She ate hearty and helped with dishes after. While they sat in the living room after, her mom sewed. “Tell us about it.”

So Rebecca did.

That night she slept soundly, again safe in her own house and bed. When she woke, the sun was high in the sky. Slipping on a clean dress, she left the room. Her brother was in the kitchen, stoking the oven’s fire.

“Why did you let me sleep so long?”

“Mama said you needed it.”

“Where is she?”

“Delivering laundry.”

Rebecca felt a stab of guilt for not being around. Her brother must have sensed her turmoil.

“We’ve managed, Becca. I’ve helped Mama when I can. She found the money you brought and nearly wept. She’s proud of you, you know.”

“I feel as though she’s disappointed in me.”

“You know Mama.” He squeezed her shoulder. “How’s it been?”

Cy and his magical touch flashed before her eyes. She fought the blush. Her brother wouldn’t understand. “Good. You didn’t say you went into town. I had to go a few times. Met Megan and Sharla. They seem taken with you.” Robert dropped his gaze to study his toes. She smiled. “I got a bath then went back.”

“How are they treating you?”

She pulled out a mixing bowl for biscuits and as she started on the meal, she told her brother in more detail than she’d shared last night. Almost everything from Bill’s injury to why she was riding Polaris. She even mentioned the arrow slice from the Indians.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” The worry thick in his tone.

“Hank did a good job,” she replied. Kneading the dough in her mama’s spotless kitchen, she worried her lower lip. “When will you be ready?”

“Can you handle another month?”

Ignoring the brief pain in her heart at the idea of not seeing Cy again, she nodded. “Of course. I’ll come home next payday and we can switch back.”

“Thank you, Becca.” He paused. “You know Anson has been by looking for you.”

She groaned. “What did you tell him?”

“You took Polaris to visit your Indian friend. And would be back later.”

“And he believed you?”

“He’s come by a few times since. At least until Mama answered the door.”

Rebecca smiled. “She’s never liked him very much. Calls him shifty.”

“Anyway it’s fall and he knows when you go see her.”

“ She has a name you know.”

He grumbled but didn’t dispute her. She covered the bowl and got to work on the rest of the meal. While it cooked in the oven, she went out to their barn to feed the animals, her brother beside her on crutches.

“Have we heard from Papa?”

“Nothing. Not even by post.”

She was worried but didn’t speak on it. Robert fed the chickens while she fed and milked the cows. Once finished with the chores, she carried the pails back to the house.

“What do you think of Cyrus?”

Good Lord, she almost dropped the buckets. Blowing out a deep breath, she shrugged. “He’s fair. Seems kind of young to be running a station.”

“He was a soldier. Got injured so he couldn’t serve anymore.”

“What happened to him?”

Robert glanced at her and she gave him an innocent look. They walked in and as soon as she set the pails down, he grabbed her wrist.

“What?”

“Are you kidding me?”

She had a sinking feeling he’d just figured it out. Still she had to try. “Kidding about what?”

“He’s a Southern white man.”

“What does that have to do with how he got injured?” Damn her twin for knowing her so well.

“Don’t try to fool me. You like him?”

“I don’t dislike him.” Would her answer work?

“You can’t be staring at him like a lovesick child.” His voice was low and angry.

She whirled on him. “Do you think I would be so stupid as to give myself away? I made the decision to fill in for you to help this family! I wouldn’t mess that up because one man doesn’t scratch himself, pass gas, or belch in front of me. And shame on you for thinking I would.”

Biting back her rising frustration, she thrust a bowl of potatoes at him along with a knife. He got the hint and left her alone. She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to forget about Cy Spencer. It hadn’t worked so far and didn’t this time either.

Her relationship with Cy was more than a few passing interludes of passionate sex. On the nights she cooked, they’d talked. Gotten to know one another. She liked him. She respected him.

It’s more than that, her subconscious volunteered. You’ve fallen in love with him.

Could that be? She shook her head. Surely not. Just a bit more attachment because he’d taken her virginity.

Do you really believe that? Her brain asked, seconded by her heart.

Didn’t matter. She had a month left with him. That was all.

She worked in silence despite her brother’s attempts to talk more. That night Cy filled her dreams. They went on picnics, made love along sparkling streams, and spent their nights in each other’s arms.

The rooster woke her and she dressed quickly, drawing on her buckskins, which would keep her warmer than her other pants. She also dug out her fur-lined moccasins. Once bound and dressed, she slipped from her room and made her way to the door.

Stepping outside, she inhaled the cold crisp air and paused at the whicker near the house.

“I thought you would be up early to leave.” Her mama spoke from the left.

“Thank you, Mama.”

“There are some biscuits and jerky in there for you. As well as a surprise. You take care now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her mama enveloped her in a hug, before Rebecca moved to her ride and swung up. Although it was dark, she tugged on the brim of her hat prior to riding off. She ate the ham biscuits on her way and allowed Polaris to pick his own pace.

She arrived at the station the following afternoon. The men were outside the bunkhouse, cutting hair when she rode in. Cy was off by the stable, repairing some fence. He looked up when she rode by. She barely glanced at him and dismounted.

“Robert,” Hank called. “Where’d you go?”

“Had to see a woman,” she returned, walking toward them with bags in hand.

The men whooped and hollered. “Did she mark you like Cy’s woman did?”

Cy had a woman? She felt sick all over again. “Mark me?”

“Hey, Cy!” Pete cried out.

Bags over her shoulder, she watched her sometimes lover wipe the sweat from his brow and walk toward them. Despite the coolness of the day, he wore no shirt and his suspenders hung down. His inherent swagger set her pulse racing.

“What, Pete?” he asked when he got there.

“Show Robert where your woman marked you.”

God, she didn’t want to see this. However, she was Robert again, not Rebecca—a woman who’d lain with him.

Cy spun around and her gaze immediately went to his firm ass.

“Look at his shoulders.”

She couldn’t even begin to say who said that phrase, so focused on the hard body before her, nothing else mattered.

Tearing her gaze from his ass, she moved it over his trim waist and up. Sure enough on his broad shoulders, there were scratch marks. Nausea churned.

“Nice.” What was the proper response for seeing the marks of another woman on a man?

“Got them on his forearms too,” Pete chortled. “He won’t give us her name though. Not fair ‘cause I want a go at her. I’ve had all the whores at Right Hand and none of them left marks on me like that.”

Cy turned around and her gaze latched onto his muscled arms. Pete was right. More scratches. Wait a moment. That’s where she’d held him. Did she do that? And his back? Meeting his dark hazel eyes she couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath.

“Guess she was something else.”

His eyes burned. “You have no idea.”

Cy kept his gaze directly on Rebecca. It hadn’t been his imagination when he’d seen the jealousy in her eyes. He wanted to go to her, gather her close, and kiss her. Run his hands over her and strip her bare. Just for starters.

He’d missed her. She’d only been gone a couple of days and yet he still missed being around her. Her expression was one of disinterest before she readjusted her bags and walked off. Shoving down his urge to follow her, he went back to the fence and gathered his tools before putting them away. He went inside and made their evening meal.

Christ, she was wearing buckskins now. The temperatures had dropped swiftly the past few days, a sure sign of approaching winter. He swore and slammed the pan on the stovetop. The men were loud and raucous at the meal and he noted they included Robert. He swirled his coffee around in his mug and watched as she inched her way to the door.

“A word, Robert.”

“Yes, sir.”

He swallowed the last of his coffee and rose from the table. They stood by the door, out of hearing for those eating but within view. As much as he wanted to have her in private there was no reason.

“How’s your brother?”

“Fine.” Her tone was cool and composed.

“Is he coming back soon?”

Every inch of her stiffened. “Don’t worry. I’ll be out of your life soon enough.”

Crap. He just couldn’t get the words right around her. “That’s not what—” she brushed by and out the door. “—I meant,” he finished.

The cold pump handle pushed through her gloves and she shivered as the wind whipped around her. She wouldn’t be out in this weather if not for the need for more water. Two more pumps and she should be good.

“Robert!”

Blinking away the stinging dirt carried by the wind she saw Tyler standing in the bunkhouse doorway.

“What’s up, Tyler?”

“We’re playing poker. Come on. We’re dealing you in.”

“Have to drop this off first.” She thumbed back to the main house where they ate their meals. Cy had asked her to bring some more water in.

“Fine, but be back in time for the next hand.” He stepped back inside and slammed the door.

“Sure thing,” she muttered to the emptiness of the prairie.

Finished filling the second bucket, she adjusted her gloves once more and picked up each handle. Body aching and sore, she moved carefully not to spill any of the water he would need for cooking and cleaning.

In all honestly, it wasn’t a lot different than hauling water for the laundry she used to do. Seems like such a long time ago.

At the door she set the buckets down and opened it before hefting them once more and carrying them inside. “Cy?”

No answer.

The inside was warm however, the fire burning nicely. She cut her gaze toward his bedroom, wondering if he was in there and if she went, would they end up there together?

Not that she would mind. Hell, her thoughts were on it all the time now. She wanted him. Wanted to have him fucking her, lifting her up on her toes with his hard thrusts. Wanted his mouth on her all over, driving her to distraction and turning her into a quivering, begging mess.

Longed for the sweat to pour down both their bodies as they lay limbs entwined, hearts pounding. Moaning she walked to the kitchen area and put down the buckets. She didn’t have the luxury of waiting around for him.

Such a pity.

For the first time, she wanted to leave a note. Let him know she’d been there, thinking of him.

Shaking off the foolish notion, she turned on her boot heels and found him there in the doorway, eyes locked on her.

“Need something?”

She swallowed twice and licked her lips before responding. “Dropping off the buckets of water like you asked.”

“Staying to help me make dinner?”

Her insides tossed and turned. The way he watched her made her wonder what exactly was on the menu.

“Seems to me you’d like me out of your way rather than in it, so I’ll be on my way.”

His jaw firmed as he stared at her. “You’re not letting me explain myself.”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t have to, that’s the beauty of this, we owe each other nothing. Now, I have a game to get to.”

Over the next several weeks, there was very little opportunity for him to talk to her. One of their other riders had fallen sick and was at the doctor in town. Like the soldier she was, Rebecca had taken extra rides.

When he did see her, he had to bite back his raging desire to butt in and demand she rest. He bit back a curse while tossing hay in the stable. She was going to run herself into the ground. All he wanted to do was protect her.

Not true. I want her in my bed. Waking with me and falling asleep with me.

He loved holding her close to his chest as they dozed off after making love. Sometimes they went slow, sometimes it was hard and fast. He didn’t care, he wanted her anyway he could get her.

The way her dark skin glowed in the sun or moonlight. How her lips parted as she puffed out short breaths, his name falling from them as she begged him.

Harder.

Faster.

Deeper.

The pleas, the scratches, all of it, he would never get enough.

His cock stirred in his pants and he groaned as he released the pitchfork to hit the side of the wall. Tipping his head back, he exhaled with a rush as his skin heated up.

Damn it.

With the heel of his palm, he rubbed against the insistent press of his hardening dick. The last time they’d been together, she had been on her knees before him, full lips parted waiting for him to push the mushroom head between them. Her first time sucking cock and he’d been the lucky participant.

She’d been so willing and while not the most skilled, it had been the best blowjob he’d ever gotten. Seeing his seed on her lips after she swallowed and her saliva coating his dick like water, all he could think about was how he wanted to do it again.

“Fuck.”

Giving he, he dipped his hand down into his pants and freed himself. One hand braced on the wall beside him, he squeezed his length and began to pump. Slowly at first, he twisted and moved up and down the hardness.

Eyes screwed closed, he pulled up the visual of her, on her knees sucking his dick. On her hands and knees, waiting for him to spear into her from behind to take him deep. He grew impossibly harder.

Panting he stroked faster, wishing it was her tight, hot pussy gripping him and sucking him in to hold him as if she never wanted to let him go. Balls tightening, Cy exhaled as he ground his jaw and tried to stave off the release which he desperately needed but would hate himself for the moment it happened because it wasn’t with Rebecca.

“Oh.”

He yanked his gaze open and pinned it on the one who owned his dreams. Rebecca stood there, eyes wide and locked on where his hand fisted himself, the swollen head poking out through the closed fist he had only to disappear again when he went the other way.

Cy licked his lips. “Look at me.”

She tore her gaze from his dick and held his stare. He wasn’t stopping, she would watch this as she stayed.

There was hunger in her gaze and that only mollified his need slightly to know she needed him as he did her.

Her tongue dipped out to swipe along her lower lip and he groaned. Seeing it was like having it glide along his shaft. Goosebumps burst out on his skin as he shuddered at the memory.

“Cy.” Low and breathy, her calling his name pushed him over the edge.

She didn’t move as his cock jerked, sending his seed all over the dirt floor and hay before him. “Rebecca.”

A whimper escaped before she did, leaving him alone with his cock in hand, still hard, and a mess on the floor in front of him.

As the days turned into weeks, Cy knew something must seriously be wrong for Robert to not have returned yet and Rebecca was worried. She continued to assist with meals occasionally and the men definitely preferred it when she had a hand in them, but otherwise, there was definite distance between them.

Winter had since changed to spring and the days began again to get warmer, although the nights were still cool. And this would be the case until summer arrived and turned everything hot as hades.

Which is why I’m always cutting more wood. For the stove to cook, for the stove to stay warm.

Stacking the wood he’d cut, he looked up and his heart leapt to his throat. Five Indians on horses watched him. He dropped the wood and grabbed his rifle.

He showed no fear. There was no one at the station other than him and he was glad. He didn’t want Rebecca in this danger. There were friendly Indians, he just wasn’t sure if these were able to be lumped in that category, or if they were in the “hostile” category.

“What do you want?” The man in the middle gestured to the horses. Cy shook his head. “Those are my horses, move along.”

More chattering and gesturing. He shook his head again and moved himself between the men and his stock.

“You steal.”

“What?” Not only the accusation but also that the language it came in had been English shocked him.

“You steal horse.”

“I’ve stolen nothing. They’re all mine.”

“No. Polaris not yours.”

He’d forgotten Polaris was here. He’d been too exhausted to carry on so Rebecca had left him behind. Cy looked to the corral where the horse in question watched them.

“That’s not yours either. I’m not giving you her horse.” He wasn’t sure he liked this man knowing Rebecca’s horse. It could all be a lie. Polaris was by far the best piece of horseflesh here. He did call him by name though.

“Rebecca’s. Where Rebecca?”

“You know her?”

“Where!”

He flexed his fingers on the rifle. “Not here right now.”

They spoke amongst themselves. “She hurt?”

“No.”

Hoof beats entered the terse silence. He turned to see who rode up and when he looked back, they were gone. He blew out a breath and hurried to meet the rider. It was Rebecca. She sawed hard on the reins of her lathered horse.

“I have no other rider here. He didn’t show.”

She wiped a gloved hand along her mouth before spitting. “Saddle up Polaris, give me two minutes, and I’ll be ready.”

He couldn’t argue, no matter how much he wished. The mail had to go on. The moment, she dismounted he took the reins and headed for the stable. She showed up as he hefted the saddle on Polaris. He noticed she chewed on a biscuit.

“An Indian asked about you right before you rode in,” he commented, tightening the cinch.

“For me?”

“Claimed I stole Polaris and asked if you were hurt.”

She gave a non-committal grunt. He glanced at her over the back of the horse where she stood securing the mochila.

“Who was he?”

“A friend.”

Anger spurt to life within him. Ducking beneath the muscled neck, he went to her side. She watched him from under her hat and he swore low before kissing her. It demanded. He demanded. Beneath him, she opened, willingly accepting him in. Their tongues danced along one another and he moaned encouragingly as her hands tore hungrily at his clothing. He worked quick and soon had her against the wall with his cock deep in her.

She undulated and moved in tandem with him. Hot, passionate, and fierce, he came in her as she crested.

“I love you,” she whispered on a faint breath as tiny tremors continued to rack her body.

He froze and so did she. Her eyes grew wide as he withdrew from her heat. He’d never seen anyone dress so fast and he had to hurry in order to keep up. A fistful of her long-sleeved shirt and coat brought her right back before him. Her eyes smoky and lips slightly swollen. It was a punch to his gut, he wanted so much more.

“Wait.”

“No. I…forget I even said that.” She jerked free, swung up easily onto Polaris’ back without the stirrups, and they were gone.

He watched her leave unable to believe what he’d heard. But you did hear it. She’d said she loved him. Followed by the command to forget she had. Forget it? Not a chance.

When you return Rebecca, we are going to have one hell of a discussion. To hell with what is right or not.

Not much later, a group rode in and he found himself staring up at an Army company. A man on a large chestnut gelding—a major based on what he wore—gestured to another to swing down then snapped a salute. Cy almost returned it, hard not to after all the time he served. As it was, he still stood straighter.

“You the station master, Cyrus Spencer?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Major Bolden.” He glanced at the sergeant on the ground, who handed him a letter. Cy opened it and read the message. A knot filled his stomach and he reread it twice more. “Is this for real?”

“Yes. We need to protect the riders from those heathens as well as the stations and animals. So some of the men here will be staying and there will be a soldier accompanying every rider from now on. Or at least until we take care of the pests.”

The major’s opinion on Indians was obvious; Cy didn’t need to ask how he felt. As annoying as that was, it wasn’t his main concern. A solider would be riding alone on the trail with Rebecca. His woman. There was no way he’d let her ride off with another man. Who knew what could happen to her.

“Very well. There is a bunkhouse over there they can use. It will need to be cleaned first.”

Major Bolden gestured to six men. “Your riders can move and clean.”

He frowned. “No, sir. Your men want to stay, they clean. My duty is to my riders as well as Russell, Waddell, and Majors, not the Army. Not anymore.”

Grudging respect filled his face. “Fine, my men will take the other one.”

“We have a code around here they will have to follow. The riders agreed when they signed on so I will not have problems at my station because of them. No drinking to excess or cussing is top along with respecting others.”

“Still have the Army in you, son. I can see it. So can my men. They’ll listen to you. You. We need to water our horses before we press on.”

Cy showed them where to do that and got back to his duties while the soldiers got to work cleaning out their quarters. His night was restless as he envisioned Rebecca’s body broken and beaten. That morning he set off the first rider with a solider as escort. He didn’t think it was a good idea but orders were orders.

Finally, the day Rebecca should return arrived. Unsure if her Army escort would have been there or not he anxiously kept an eye on the horizon.

“Rider up!” he called out as the familiar dust cloud rolling from beneath horse’s hooves appeared.

The breath it seemed he’d been holding all day left him in a disappointed rush. The incoming horse wasn’t the dun he’d hoped to see but it was one he recognized. Reaver. The knowledge made his heart sink with the knowledge. Robert—the real one—had returned.