
Wanton in the West
Lisa Plumley
Arizona Territory, 1884
Everyone in the small town of Morrow Creek knows that Adeline has been sweet on Clayton Davis for years---and that he still hasn't proposed! While Adeline reluctantly waits for her man, Clayton is falsely accused of being a thief and the sheriff is hot on his tail. Now Adeline has to do everything in her power to stop him leaving town, even if she has to be positively indecent to make Clayton stay by her side---and in her bed....
Dear Reader,
When my editor graciously invited me to try writing a Harlequin Historical Undone, I had only one possible setting in mind: my favorite Arizona Territory town, Morrow Creek. I had a wonderful time dreaming up Adeline's and Clayton's story---and meeting Violet Benson, too! In fact, I found Violet so intriguing that she'll have her very own story in an upcoming book. I'm working on it right now, and I think it'll be a fun one!
If you enjoyed this story, I hope you'll try another book in my Morrow Creek series, which includes Mail-Order Groom which was out in December 2010, The Bride Raffle coming in April 2011, and several others. You can learn about all my books at my Web site, www.lisaplumley.com. While you're there, you can also download a complete book list, sign up for new-book alerts, read sneak previews of upcoming books, request special reader freebies, and more. I hope you'll stop by today.
As always, I'd love to hear from you! You can visit me online at community.eharlequin.com/users/lisaplumley, send e-mail to lisa@lisaplumley.com, "friend" me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/pages/LisaPlumley/15694171151, follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/LisaPlumley, or write to me c/o P.O. Box 7105, Chandler, AZ 85246-7105.
Happy reading,
Lisa Plumley
Contents
July 1884Morrow Creek, northern Arizona Territory
On hot summer days, most women longed for a cool breeze, a refreshing fan, or a bracing lemonade. Adeline Wilson was different. On the hottest day in the memory of any Morrow Creek resident, Adeline longed for lace---yards and yards of Brussels lace, fashioned into a very specific garment: a bridal veil.
The moment Adeline stepped inside Mr. Hofer's overstuffed mercantile, she spied that pile of ivory lace. It beckoned to her amid the wares and hubbub and smells of tobacco and pickles. There seemed no choice but to beeline toward it, all the better to examine its fine stitches, savor its undoubted softness, and imagine herself the bride she so yearned to be...someday.
The lace felt exactly as wondrous as she expected. Delicate and whisper thin, it deserved much better than to be abandoned on the counter by a previous customer, the way it apparently had been. Irresistibly tempted, Adeline drew the lacy bridal veil to her cheek. Envisioning herself wearing it, she sighed.
"Ah! So then it has happened!" Mrs. Hofer bustled over, beaming as she spoke in her accented voice. "Young Mr. Davis has finally proposed! We all knew he would. This is a happy day!"
As though she'd been stung, Adeline lowered the veil. Beside her, her closest friend, Violet Benson, gasped in shock.
"He's proposed? Clayton's proposed to you? Adeline! I can't believe you didn't tell me! We've come all this way to town---"
"No. He hasn't proposed." This time, Adeline dropped the veil altogether. For good measure, she jabbed it with her elbow, just to make sure it stayed far away from her---and her foolish, much-too-public dreams. "At least, not yet, he hasn't," she added with a lift of her chin. "But I'm sure, very soon, he'll---"
She broke off, unable to actually voice her dearest hope: He'll ask me to be his bride, and we'll be married at last.
Violet stared at her in distress. So did Mrs. Hofer. Adeline felt unaccountably responsible for disappointing them.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hofer," she said. "And Violet too. Please don't feel bad for mentioning it. It was a reasonable mistake---"
"Yes, it was. Especially given how long Clayton Davis has kept you waiting on him," Violet interrupted, her usual good cheer temporarily overridden by loyal indignation. "Almost two years now!" she grumbled, "with his smiles and his charm and his refusal to give you a wedding ring. The nerve of him!"
"Clayton isn't lacking in nerve," Adeline disagreed. "And as for the wedding ring... Well, he says he's saving up."
Mrs. Hofer gave her a dubious look. So did Violet. So did, Adeline fancied, all the other customers in the mercantile. In Morrow Creek, folks tended to know one another's lives fairly intimately. Everyone here knew she'd been sweet on Clayton for years---and he, on her. It was a fact. Like wrinkles in freshly laundered shirts. Or tight, uncomfortable corsetry in July.
Shifting awkwardly in her copious layers of dress and petticoats and undergarments, Adeline decided she'd better just get on with what she'd come here for. Otherwise, she'd find herself in a debate she couldn't win about her beloved Clayton.
"Anyway," she said brightly, "could I please have a few things, Mrs. Hofer?" She consulted her list. "Four yards of that calico, there---" she pointed "---and ten pounds of cornmeal, and a bottle of Lydia E. Pinkham's vegetable compound. The large one, please. Mrs. Fullham's rheumatism is acting up again," Adeline explained, "so I promised I'd do some shopping for her today."
As the mercantile owner's wife bustled off to collect the necessary items, Adeline felt her smile wobble slightly. But she refused to buckle completely. She might feel a bit...conspicuous about her long-standing courtship with Clayton Davis, but that didn't mean she was giving up on him. Not by a mile.
She straightened her spine. There. That was better. With her neighborly mission well underway, she felt strong and proud.
Violet nudged her. "You can fool Mrs. Hofer, but you can't fool me, Adeline! I've known you since...well, forever! I saw the way you looked at that bridal veil." Her friend's concerned gaze met hers. "Are you sure you're holding up all right?"
"I'm fine," Adeline promised. "So is Clayton. We are fine."
Violet frowned, plainly unconvinced.
"Don't worry, Violet. I'm not one of your charity cases, you know. I can manage for myself." Spotting the famously helpful gleam in her friend's eyes, Adeline hastened to assure Violet. Her friend---the minister's daughter---was renowned for her good works in Morrow Creek. "Clayton and I... We'll be fine. And we'll be married soon, too. I know we will. Don't you worry."
"I can't help worrying! You so deserve to be happy." Violet gave her an empathetic look. "And I want to help. I've been thinking about this, and it all boils down to this: You're too available to Clayton. You're too here, in Morrow Creek---"
"Well, strictly speaking, Papa's farm is outside of town---"
"---where Clayton can see you whenever he wants to!" Violet put her hands on her hips, casting a friendly---if unnervingly conspiratorial glance---at Mrs. Hofer as she gathered Adeline's purchases for Mrs. Fullham in a cast-off box. "What you need," Violet concluded, "is a chance for Clayton Davis to miss you."
Adeline scoffed. But Violet appeared downright enthralled by her theory. Clearly gathering steam, she went on talking.
"You need to shake up Clayton a bit! He's taking you for granted, plain as day, and you're letting him. Why, with just the smallest nudge, or maybe just a teensy bit of subterfuge, we could properly sway Clayton in the direction of a proposal."
"Subterfuge? Whatever are you talking about?"
Violet shrugged. "A...harmless scheme. For his own good."
Adeline shook her head. "I don't want to trick Clayton into marrying me!" Aghast at the notion, she paid Mrs. Hofer. She hefted her box, then left the bustling mercantile behind. On the dusty boardwalk outside, Adeline raised her voice to be heard above the passing wagons and the riders with horses ajangle with tack. "I want Clayton to want to marry me. And he does."
"You still don't have a ring. Or a bridal veil to wear."
"I have Clayton's love. For now, that's enough for me."
On the heels of Adeline's pronouncement, Mrs. Hofer emerged from the mercantile. She flagged down Adeline and Violet. Red-faced and breathless, she added the vegetable compound---which she'd apparently forgotten---to Adeline's box of goods. Then Mrs. Hofer leaned forward, her kindly face awash in sympathy.
"Don't you worry, Miss Wilson," the older lady said. "I made sure to tell all my other customers you are not engaged yet. Now, no one else will congratulate you and embarrass you!"
"Oh." Flustered, Adeline nodded. "Thank you so much."
"You are welcome." Mrs. Hofer squeezed her shoulder. "You are a good girl. Like my own daughter. Who is married. With many babies. But..." A shrug. "Such a life is not for everyone, no?"
"No." Adeline's smile wobbled again. "I guess not."
But just then, she longed fiercely for that life. For Clayton, babies and a veil of Brussels lace to start it all.
Violet poked her. She waggled her eyebrows comically.
"Now will you let me help you with this Clayton problem?"
This Clayton problem. Adeline sighed. Was her handsome, sweet and beyond respectful beau a problem? If only he would treat her as the bride she so hankered to be...but he wouldn't.
"No." Adeline nodded goodbye to Mrs. Hofer, then swiveled. Companionably, she walked onward with Violet. "It's not that I don't treasure your loyalty---and your dedication to the cause of seeing me contentedly married---because I do. I truly do! But I wouldn't be happy knowing I'd bamboozled Clayton into marriage."
"Well, then. Maybe someone will have to do it for you!"
"No." Adeline was firm. "Whatever you're thinking...no!"
"It's not as though we'd be forcing Clayton to do something he doesn't already want to do. He's willing, just tardy! I could easily squeeze in the project between reading to orphans and delivering dinners to veterans with the ladies' auxiliary club."
"Violet, no! If I wanted to 'nudge' Clayton, I would."
"All right." Violet seemed resigned. Then she pointed. "Look! Isn't that another veil? Of Duchesse lace, this time?"
Before she could think, Adeline veered for the display in a nearby shop window---betrayed, quite obviously, by her own fondest desires. Halfway there, she stopped. Dismayed, she turned.
"See?" she told Violet. "I'm absolutely no good at hiding my feelings---not for an instant. I could never trick Clayton!"
For the first time that day, her friend seemed to agree. Sagely, Violet nodded. "I see that. All right. I'll leave off all this subterfuge talk. You just go on waiting for Clayton."
"That's exactly what I intend to do." Adeline cast a mischievous glance at Violet. "But first, I want to see that Duchesse lace up close." She grabbed her. "Come on!"
There at the shop window, Adeline allowed herself to dream all over again. She dreamed of lacy veils and fancy dresses, of wishes and kisses, and of meeting Clayton at the altar.
Wherever Clayton was just then, Adeline hoped with all her heart that he was dreaming exactly the same dreams she was. She'd pinned a lot of hopes on her dependable---if tardy---beau. She knew, deep down in her soul, he was worth it.
"You are worth five hundred dollars, Clayton Davis. No questions asked, as a reward to the man who catches you." Violet Benson nodded, her gaze as pious as her papa's sermons were every Sunday morning. "I wouldn't have said a thing, except I know you couldn't have done that stealing you're accused of."
"Stealing?" Frowning, Clayton kept on walking. Beside him, Violet hurried to keep up. He felt tired, hungry and powerfully confused. He didn't have time for gossip---not even if it was about him. "That can't be right. I've never stolen anything. This must be some kind of mistake."
Violet nodded. "That's exactly what I thought. Until..."
Unwillingly hooked by the dire tone of her voice, Clayton glanced at her. Now she was biting her lip, he saw. And wringing her hands. And frowning. Her concerned demeanor gave him pause.
Aside from his beloved Adeline, Violet Davis was the kindest, most unimpeachable woman in town. Violet was renowned for good deeds and helping the unfortunate. If she were worried about this---however preposterous it was---maybe he should be, too.
"Until...what?" He strode past Jack Murphy's saloon. Raucous music spilled from inside. "Just come out with it."
"Until..." Another despairing glance. "Until I heard Sheriff Caffey was rounding up a posse to hunt you down!"
Clayton gawked. "A posse? Me? That's plumb ridiculous."
"Well, you know Sheriff Caffey. He's tough. This is his town. He never misses a chance to bring in a miscreant or two."
"Or to get his name in the newspaper." Just in the past month, Pioneer Press editor Thomas Walsh had featured the sheriff's "daring" exploits three times. "Funny how it doesn't make the newspaper when the charges against folks are dropped."
Violet demurred. "That's only happened once or twice."
"That's once or twice too many, when it comes to innocent folks." Clayton deepened his frown. "If it hadn't been for the circuit judge coming to town when he did, those people would have been stuck in Sheriff Caffey's jail a whole lot longer."
"Probably so," Violet mused unhappily. "The circuit judge is a mite more fair minded than the sheriff."
That was putting it kindly, Clayton knew. Sheriff Caffey was notoriously hardheaded, ridiculously bloodthirsty and not an inch above corruption. Every man in town knew it. Those with a shortfall of integrity used the sheriff's corruptibility for their own ends---by paying to have rival ranchers harassed, for instance, or arranging to "detain" business competitors awhile.
But Violet wouldn't be likely to admit anything like that. She, like Adeline, tended to believe the best about people.
Clayton aimed a probing look at her. "You say the sheriff is after me now?" That had to be a mistake. Surely even Sheriff Caffey got things unintentionally wrong sometimes. Clayton didn't have any enemies in town, and he certainly hadn't stolen anything. "But I've been at work at the mill all day."
He gestured in the direction of Marcus Copeland's lumber mill operation. As a skilled sawer, Clayton was in demand as much for his considerable brawn as for his brains and expertise.
Violet wrinkled her nose. "Excuses won't matter much, if the sheriff's posse shoots first and collects the reward later."
"'Excuses'?" Tipping his head to the clear summertime sky, Clayton exhaled. His shoulders ached from hauling lumber. His mind whirled with thoughts of blazing rifles. All he wanted was to go home, have a bath, then maybe pay a call to Adeline. "It's not an excuse. I'm innocent! I'll go see Caffey after supper and straighten out this mess. Once I explain myself, he'll see---"
"No!" Holding up her palms, Violet glanced around the town square. Passersby moved past them with a purpose Clayton wanted to mimic, headed safely home or elsewhere. Wild-eyed, Violet leaned in. "Don't be chowderheaded. Don't you think that's exactly what he wants? For you to surrender? Think, Clayton!"
"I am thinking. I'm thinking this is crazy. Thanks for the warning, but I just don't need it. Now, if you'll excuse me---"
"You do need it!" Urgently Violet grabbed his arm, seeming twice as distraught as she had when she'd first waylaid him on the way home from the lumber mill. "I'm telling you, I heard Sheriff Caffey discussing all this with his deputy. If you go home now, they'll be waiting there to arrest you."
Clayton scoffed. But the certainty in Violet's eyes was unmistakable. She believed what she was telling him. Devoutly.
He'd never known Violet to tell a falsehood. No one had.
"You have to listen to me!" Violet insisted. "You have to get out of the town square, too, before someone sees you and catches you!" To that end, she tugged Clayton toward a more private spot---a hidden area near the schoolhouse, by the big ponderosa pine where schoolmarm McCabe read storybooks to her students. School wasn't in session, but the tale Violet told him next was every bit as far-fetched as something in a dime novel.
Evidently Sheriff Caffey thought Clayton had masterminded a whole series of robberies. According to Violet, he'd told his deputy he had an irreproachable eyewitness to the thievery. He'd bragged that his posse would round up Clayton before nightfall and bring him to justice before dawn.
Hearing that, Clayton swallowed hard. He no longer cared about his bath, his dinner, or the envelope of pay money he'd looked forward to adding to his bankroll of savings tonight.
All he cared about---as ever---was Adeline.
"If I'm killed by a posse, it will break Adeline's heart."
Violet blinked. "It won't do much for you, either!"
Distractedly Clayton waved away her concerns. "I don't care about myself. I'll be fine. But I might be stuck in jail for a long while, waiting for the circuit judge to come by---"
"Stuck? In jail? But you're not still going to---"
"Talk to Sheriff Caffey? I am. It's only sensible."
"But...Clayton! You have to run! It's the only way."
At that, Clayton balked. Something about this didn't seem quite right to him. "I'm not a man who runs away. I didn't do anything wrong. Eventually the truth will come out."
Violet seemed frustrated. Insistently she said, "You can hightail it to Avalanche. Or Landslide. Just hide out awhile. I'll send you a message when it's safe for you to come back." Furtively she shoved a wad of bills at him. "Here. Take this."
"No!" Gob smacked, Clayton shook his head. "I appreciate your warning me. I do. You're a true friend." He enveloped her hand in his to make her keep her money, even as---with typical bashfulness---Violet protested. "But all I need you to do is look after Adeline for me while I'm gone. Will you do that?"
"Will I watch over Adeline while you're in jail?"
Clayton nodded. "It would mean the world to me to know she's all right. And don't let her visit! It's a bad place."
He could have sworn Violet rolled her eyes. "Your concern is sweet, Mr. Davis, but what you need to do is skedaddle!"
Clayton peered at her, still thinking that this whole situation seemed peculiar. "If I didn't know better," he said, "I'd swear you're trying to make me leave town in a hurry."
"Don't you patronize me!" Violet stamped her foot. "I'm trying to save your life! The least you could do is cooperate!"
"All right." Helplessly Clayton raised his palms. "Don't get all riled up." He gave her a grin, knowing there was only one way out of this: humoring her. "I'm running. See?"
He took off at a trot. Spinning, he tipped his hat to her. "Thank you kindly, Miss Benson! I'm eternally indebted to you!"
Behind him, Violet harrumphed. But she also seemed pleased he'd complied. If pretending to run away would make Violet feel better---and make her quit badgering him---he didn't mind doing it.
Within a few minutes, Clayton's unasked-for guardian angel was well behind him. Slowing, he approached his tidy cabin on the outskirts of town. Between the trees, he saw...
Men. With rifles. And Sheriff Caffey at their lead.
Damnation. Violet Benson had been right! He was in trouble.
On the verge of striding into the clearing to declare his innocence, Clayton paused. Yes, he was blameless. Yes, he wanted to explain himself. But wandering into the midst of a worked-up, murderous-looking posse was just asking to be killed by mistake.
He couldn't do that to Adeline. Later, he'd clarify things. For now, if he wanted to stay out of the hoosegow until he could rightly explain himself to the circuit judge, he'd better keep out of sight. So Clayton wheeled around, then legged it in the opposite direction...thinking all the while of Adeline.
Feeling more overheated than any woman had a right to be, Adeline raised her forearm to mop her brow. She exhaled deeply. Then, with no one around to see her do it, she finally gave in to the urge that had bedeviled her all day---the urge to cool off.
Plopping onto a boulder near the stream where she'd been washing her delicates outside her papa's farmhouse, she hastily undid her shoes. She cast them aside. She wriggled her toes.
Ah. She felt cooler already, even with her stockings on. But if she went further... Furtively Adeline cast a second cautious glance. No one was around for miles. With a burst of impulsiveness, she reached under her skirts. She unhooked her cotton knit stockings. She peeled them off, sighing with relief.
Her long, dark stockings landed beside her shoes, near her basket of damp, ready-to-be-hung laundry. But her chores could wait. For now, in the dappled shade of the scrub oaks that grew along this part of the creek, Adeline intended to treat herself.
With a frisson of anticipation, she waded into the water. Its chill made her gasp. Her toes curled against the creek bed's rocky bottom; silt rushed upward, swirling in ticklish eddies. She couldn't help squealing with delight. Gooseflesh prickled her arms. Her whole body felt enlivened. At least this was one aspect of doing summertime laundry she could appreciate.
Wanting more, Adeline bent to splash creek water on her arms. She'd already bared them to the elbow before putting her washboard to good use; now, she raised her wrists high. Water droplets fell on her head, undoubtedly ruining her high-swept hairstyle, but Adeline didn't care. The water's cooling power was simply too delicious. Daringly she unfastened the first few buttons on her dress bodice, then sprinkled water there, too.
Delightful. Closing her eyes, she tipped back her head. It was a good thing Papa was gone for a few days, selling a cow. If he'd come across her like this, he'd have thought she was---
"Are you crazy, Adeline? What are you doing?"
At the sound of that masculine voice, Adeline started. Eyes wide-open now, she jerked around her head to see...Clayton.
Involuntarily she released a sigh. He looked so handsome standing there on the creek bank, with his muscular shoulders and tousled golden hair and overall swoon-worthy presence.
Impossibly compelled to do so, Adeline smiled coquettishly at him. "Why, can't you see? I'm cooling off. Why don't you join me in here? The water's awfully refreshing."
To demonstrate that fact, she dipped up more of it. Still gazing at Clayton, she let it drip down the gap in her bodice.
Those little water droplets did their job. They lured her beau's gaze to her bosom as surely as did her next breath.
Clayton blinked. Her spell dissipated. "I can't do that. I'm in big trouble, Adeline. Sheriff Caffey is after me."
He gazed at her with breath held, as though expecting her to scream or bawl or perhaps fall into a genuine ladylike faint.
Instead Adeline only shrugged. "I know. The sheriff and his men were here a little while ago, looking for you. I told them you couldn't possibly have done anything wrong."
"I haven't. This is all a terrible mistake."
She squinted at him. He seemed like the same reliable, loyal and trustworthy Clayton Davis to her. "I'm sure it is."
He seemed gratified by her fidelity. "But until I can explain myself... Well, I'm leaving, Adeline." Clayton stepped forward, all the way to the water's edge. His gaze dipped to her figure again. "I don't stand a chance against Caffey alone. I'll be back to clear my name with the circuit judge in a few days."
"Leaving?" Troubled, Adeline splashed nearer. "You can't!"
"I have to." He cast another roving glance over her person---this time, centering with a certain flattering intensity over the unbuttoned areas of her dress bodice. He swallowed hard. "But I didn't want to leave, even for a little while, without saying goodbye to you. So I..." Clayton took a seemingly involuntary step forward, almost tromping his boots atop her cast-off stockings. He glanced down. His brow gave an adorable crinkle. "Are those your stockings?" Another speculative glance. "Are you...naked?"
She laughed, grasping her skirts. "You can see I'm not!"
"But under your dress---" he pointed "---you must be---"
With a naughty thrill, Adeline raised her brows. "Yes?"
"Naked. Bare legged. I've never known you to be---"
Clayton broke off, lifting his gaze to meet hers. Something in his eyes beckoned her. It made her feel all fluttery inside. Awash in the unexpected excitement of it, Adeline trembled.
She nodded. "It feels very good, too. Won't you join me?" In a burst of daring, she took his free hand. "I want you to."
For an instant, it seemed he would. Adeline knew she saw desire in his eyes.
But then Clayton eased his hand from her wet, slippery grasp. "I'd like that," he said. "I truly would! But we shouldn't even be out here like this. It's not proper. If anyone found out, there'd be hell to pay. We'd be in awful trouble."
He was sweet to consider her reputation. "If I'm not mistaken, you already are in awful trouble," Adeline said. "There's no sense in caution now, is there?"
Tilting her head, she considered how alluring, how masculine, how wonderful his mouth looked just then. Clayton seemed to be considering the finer aspects of her mouth, too. His gaze centered on her lips, then got stuck there. They wavered, the two of them, with the creek water trickling past and the sunlight beaming down and the birds twittering in the bushes, and just...breathed as though they wanted to be one.
Adeline did want to be one with Clayton. She wanted to be his wife, his helpmate, his love, his everything. She knew he was a good man. He'd sort out this issue with the sheriff. Until that happened... Well, who knew what might occur between them?
"You already were a wanted man, you know." She raised her palm to his chest, making a damp imprint on his shirt. His heart thudded wildly beneath her palm. "Because I want you," she teased, "and I always have. So you'd better get used to it."
Giving a groan, Clayton covered her hand with his. His gaze searched hers, dark and unfathomable. "Aww, Adeline. I want you, too! You don't know what you do to me. You can't know." His hand tightened on hers. "I was already all fired up, just getting out here to see you. Every feeling I ever had is racing around inside me, wanting to get out. Ordinarily I've got better control of myself, but today... Well, everything's changed."
"You still seem like you. Only more...dangerous, somehow."
He gawked at her. "You're teasing me? Now? Adeline, I could have been shot today. Thinking about never seeing you again---" He broke off, then squeezed her hand. "It tore me up inside."
Surprised at his depth of feeling, Adeline moved nearer. His hand felt good over hers. It felt right. So did Clayton. He belonged by her side, forever and ever, no matter his troubles.
"The world can't possibly separate us, Clayton. We'll always be together. Forever." Wanting to make her point more emphatically, Adeline pressed a gentle kiss to his brow. Then another. "Don't worry about a thing. I'm here."
She lifted her free hand to smooth his hair. When it fell over his brow, it lent him a boyish air---one she loved. With another reassuring murmur, she kissed his cheek. Next, she kissed the faint scar where a splinter of lumber had hit him at the mill. She kissed his jaw and felt his bristly stubble at her mouth. That's when---wonderfully---Clayton kissed her, too.
Her knees felt all quivery. Her breath came in pants. The only thing holding her up seemed to be Clayton's strong arm and his hand, cradling her against his wide, remarkable chest. The warmth she felt emanating from him felt different from the warmth of the sun that had affected her all day. His warmth felt necessary, especially mingling as it did with his nearness and the sweet piney smell that always clung to his clothes. Mmm....
"It means so much to me that you came to see me," Adeline told him. "I'm so happy you trust me and need me! And I---"
"Adeline, I came here to say goodbye to you. Remember?"
"Goodbye?" Jolted by those words---and bereft at the imminent lack of his kisses already---she came up for air. "But I thought I could change your mind. I don't want you to go!"
"I don't want to leave. But what else can I do?"
"You can stay here, at my farmhouse." At Clayton's dubious look, Adeline rushed onward. "Sheriff Caffey has already been here! He won't think to come back---not for days. You'll be safe."
"That's probably true." Clayton seemed torn. "But I can't put you or your father at risk. Mr. Wilson will never consent---"
"Papa's not here." She told him about the cow.
"No. It's not proper," Clayton insisted. "I want to marry you someday! I can't endanger your reputation, just because---"
"---just because your life is at risk? Please, Clayton. You can!" Feeling a bit stung at his cavalier mention of their not-yet-scheduled nuptials, Adeline nonetheless mustered the courage to put Clayton's needs ahead of her own. "You have to stay."
Still, her beau remained typically mulish. "No. Violet suggested Avalanche," Clayton said, "and I think she's right."
"Violet?"
"Yes. She's the one who warned me. I thought you knew."
Newly alert at the mention of her most helpful lifelong friend, Adeline inhaled. "Violet told you to leave town?"
Clayton laughed. He looked downright irresistible when he laughed. "She did everything but shoo me out of town herself!"
"Interesting." Reminded of Violet's crazy talk about making sure Clayton had a chance to miss her---and to want to finally propose to her---Adeline probed further. "Tell me more."
Clayton did. By the time he'd finished, Adeline was plumb certain that her friend's well-meant scheming was behind the supposed manhunt for Clayton. Adeline didn't know how Violet had concocted such a plan, and she didn't know precisely how it was meant to compel Clayton to drop to one knee. But she did know that she could hardly admit to Clayton that he'd been duped.
Especially by her very own closest friend, Violet Benson.
She also knew that she couldn't allow Clayton to skedaddle all the way to Avalanche on a pretense. It wouldn't be right. Adeline prided herself on always trying to do what was right.
Not necessarily what was proper...but what was right.
Which is why, given the next chance she had, she grabbed hold of Clayton's arm, let out a squeal, then dropped backward.
Inevitably they slipped. Startled, Clayton reached for her. If she'd been less determined, he'd have saved her. As it was, Adeline clung mightily to him, then dragged them both in the creek. Water splashed in a merry arc. They both sputtered.
Surfacing, Adeline caught sight of Clayton. His shirt clung wetly to his shoulders. It outlined his muscular arms and chest in a fashion that bordered on---no, was---positively indecent.
She liked it. She liked it to a powerful degree.
"Adeline!" He hauled her up. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Breathlessly she swept soggy clumps of hair from her face. She blinked away water. "Are you? You look as if you're soaked clean through! I can't let you go on the run like that. If you try, you'll catch your death of cold. Come on."
She tugged his hand. Suspiciously he regarded her. "It's hot out. The sun won't set for another hour. I'll dry off."
"Nonsense. I'll take care of you. Just come with me."
In her best, most generous manner, Adeline hurried him to the creek's bank. Efficiently she attempted to wring out his clothes---and only succeeded in making him more jumpy than before.
"Adeline! Hang on. That's my trousers you're grabbing!"
Crouched before him, she glanced up matter-of-factly. "I'm trying to wring out the water. I already did your shirt, so---"
"So that's good enough. I can stand a little wetness."
"I'd never forgive myself if you caught a fever. Besides, if you stay in those wet duds, you'll get cold. Just come inside for a little while, while I hang up your clothes to dry." With all the innocence she could dredge up, Adeline smiled at him. "If you still want to pull foot for Avalanche when your clothes are ready, I promise I won't say a peep to try to stop you."
Clayton wavered. Through no volition of her own, Adeline felt her gaze drift to his trousers again. She'd never touched his person in such a forward manner before. But these were desperate times. She was determined not to give away Violet's plan---at least not until she knew what it consisted of---and she was equally determined not to allow Clayton to suffer unduly.
That meant he had to stay with her. Possibly all night.
At the very idea, her whole body perked up. With Clayton at her farmhouse, it would be exactly like being married!
Except...not really. Her shoulders slumped. She felt mopey.
"Aww, don't look so sad! I can't stand it." Fiercely, Clayton took hold of her shoulders. His fingers nearly singed her, they felt so hot. "I guess...a short delay won't hurt."
Adeline brightened. "I guarantee I'll make it fun for you!"
Now Clayton appeared worried. He peered at her. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you're trying to make me spend the night with you on purpose." He grinned. "But I won't."
That's what you think, Adeline thought, newly determined.
It might not be strictly proper to take advantage of their unusual circumstances this way, but it certainly felt right. For as long as she could, Adeline meant to enjoy this time with Clayton. No matter where it led, proposal or not. She meant to---
Shriek. To her surprise, Clayton scooped her up in his arms. He headed for her farmhouse, dripping water all the while. His sodden boots squished, making puddles with every big step.
"Wait! My laundry! My shoes, my stockings, my---"
"I'll collect them for you later. After you're safely inside. You didn't think I'd let you catch cold, did you?"
Aww. He really cared about her. Touched, Adeline sighed. Comforted, she let her head rest on Clayton's shoulder. By the time they reached her farmhouse's front porch, she realized he would have to carry her over her threshold---like a true bride!
As though sensing the significance of the moment, Clayton paused. He gazed down lovingly at her. "Besides," he said, "if I carry you, I can look all I want at your lovely bare ankles."
His wolfish grin made her girlish daydreams evaporate.
Maybe, it occurred to Adeline, she'd underestimated Clayton. Maybe he wanted her even more than she wanted him, and had only maintained his gentlemanly behavior with effort---effort she was about to derail by spending time alone with him. It seemed so. But it was too late now to entertain second thoughts.
"Look all you want," she said bravely, hoping she sounded at least a bit seductive. "There's more where they came from."
Clayton laughed. "More ankles? Now that's a trick."
To her vexation, he released her. Adeline clung to him anyway, doing her best impression of being stuck tight. With a breathless wiggle, she felt her toes touch the floorboards.
Her performance wiped the smile clean off Clayton's face. He looked...aware was all that came to mind. That, and alive.
Clearing his throat, he yanked at his soggy shirt collar. He opened the door, then gestured inside. "After you, miss."
"Thank you, sir." Now Adeline was the one grinning, especially as she sashayed over the threshold and felt Clayton's gaze pinned on her---admittedly droopy---bustle. "Follow me."
She might not be getting that bridal-style escort over the threshold just now, she decided, but the night wasn't over yet.
"I swear, I don't need anything fancy, Adeline," Clayton told his adored girl later that evening. "Just a pair of britches and maybe a shirt. Are you sure my duds aren't dry?"
"Not yet!" she called sweetly. "Are you warm enough?"
"It's not warmth I'm concerned with." Self-consciously, Clayton adjusted the soft folds of the much-too-small "quilt" Adeline had given him after divesting him of his wet clothes---right down to his boots and skivvies. He felt much too aware of his own bare skin. Acres of him were exposed by the limitations of that doll-size quilt. He clutched it to his privates anyway, a decision that left most of his legs and all of his torso on display for his innocent Adeline's perusal. "It's decency. Are you sure this isn't a pillowcase? Or a handkerchief?"
"Handkerchiefs aren't quilted, silly." Adeline appeared in the doorway, toting a tray of food. "Neither are pillowcases."
She seemed beyond pleased to see him there in her parlor, stripped as a jaybird and entirely at her mercy. Just like she'd done on her front porch a while ago, she delivered him a delectable smile.
That smile reminded him of everything he loved about his Adeline. She was caring, thoughtful, gentle and sweet. She was intelligent, funny and handy with numbers. She knew how to cook and how to shoot a gun. She even knew---apparently---how to flirt. She'd been doing it, to his surprise, all damn evening.
"Your father must have something I could borrow to wear."
"Mmm." She appeared to consider it...exceedingly briefly. "Nope. I don't believe so. All of Papa's clothing would be much too small for a big, strong, strapping man like you."
Her interested, bold and gratifying gaze told him all he needed to know about her appreciation for his "strapping" body.
Caught by surprise yet again, Clayton had the undeniable sensation he'd somehow stepped from the frying pan into the fire. If he stayed here, he might not wind up in the hoosegow, but he'd be in trouble, all the same. There was no denying it.
Catching a flicker of movement, Clayton glanced downward. From beneath her flowing, freshly changed skirts, Adeline's toes peeped out at him. The sight galvanized him. Even as she busied herself with setting out whatever edibles she'd fixed, Clayton kept on staring at her bare toes. And, occasionally, her ankles.
That could mean only one thing. One intriguing thing.
He cleared his throat. "You didn't put on new stockings?"
"Oh, no need for that." Casually Adeline went on working. She glanced at him, unperturbed by his near nudity. "Before too long, I'll be taking off everything to go to bed anyway."
Oh. He couldn't help picturing the sight. Adeline...naked. Adeline, sliding between the sheets. Adeline, welcoming him in between those sheets with her, exactly where he wanted to be.
She was only a heartbeat away. Her legs were bare; soon the rest of her would be, too. She was warm and willing and sweet. She was Adeline. She was his. She was within reach right now, close enough for him to slide his hand beneath her skirts, up her bare thigh, all the way to her most feminine places.
Clayton couldn't help imagining doing exactly that...and more. Tonight, they could be together, at long last....
If he wanted to wreck her good name, right along with his.
Admonishing himself for his reckless thoughts, Clayton leaped from his chair. "I'll go check if my boots are dry yet."
"Nonsense. I'll do it." With an indulgent smile, Adeline gave him a push. "You just relax and have a bite to eat."
Teetering, Clayton clutched his quilt. It was either land in his chair again or run away like a fool. Since he wasn't a fool, he sat. But he arranged his quilted coverings just so.
It wasn't easy. He was---as they'd already discussed---a big, strong, strapping man. But he had to do it. He didn't think Adeline was ready for the sight of him in his masculine...altogethers.
"Don't worry, Mr. Davis." Adeline grinned as she offered him a sandwich. "You don't need to be so careful about covering yourself up. I won't impugn your honor." A pause, while she watched him take a bite. "That is...not unless you want me to."
His bite of cheese and bread stuck halfway down. Clayton swallowed hard. He couldn't possibly have heard her correctly.
Most likely, he was dreaming---dreaming that Adeline wanted him in all the same intimate, scandalous, sensual ways he wanted her...in all the ways they couldn't be together. Not until he saved up enough scratch to give her the life she deserved.
For Adeline, a hasty wedding and a hardscrabble existence on a sawer's salary weren't good enough. Clayton wanted to give her more. He'd been saving. He'd been working extra hours for Marcus Copeland. He'd been taking odd jobs. He'd amassed a sizable nest egg, but for Adeline, he wanted luxury and ease.
He wanted to give her everything. He couldn't. Not yet.
"We're practically married already," Adeline went on blithely, offering him a cup of water. She eyed him from beside her serving tray. "I suppose this is what it would be like to be married, isn't it? The two of us here, together." She paused, sliding a speculative glance over his quilt. "Alone. All night."
At the thought of spending a whole night alone with Adeline, Clayton suppressed a groan. He couldn't help aiming a hungry gaze upstairs. Adeline's bedroom lay in that direction. He'd never entered it, of course. But he'd envisioned it plenty of times. He'd imagined himself pulling Adeline into his arms, kissing her softly and deeply, undressing her, loving her....
As though she'd been reading his mind somehow, Adeline heaved a wistful sigh. "We could experience all that happiness, too. If only you would finagle a way to ask a certain question."
Clayton knew which question she meant. She wanted him to propose marriage. He wanted to propose marriage. But until he had more to offer her... "It's coming. I promise it is. Soon."
"What are you waiting for, Clayton?" Adeline's desolate gaze met his. "Is it because you're not sure? I know I want you, but if you don't feel the same way about me, then maybe we---"
"Of course I'm sure about you!" Again, he rose. Hastily he clapped one hand atop his miniature quilt. With the other hand, he nudged Adeline's chin until she looked up at him. "Of course I want you. So much! But I have to clear my name and save up---"
"I don't care about saving up! And even if you were the worst thief in the whole territory, I would still love you!"
It rankled him that she found him a credible hypothetical thief. "I'm not a thief," Clayton said carefully. "And I care about saving up. What else do I have to offer you, except---"
"You." Adeline grabbed his shoulders for balance. Then she levered upward and kissed him. "You are what you have to offer. You're all I want and all I'll ever need."
He fervently wished things were that simple. "Be careful, Adeline. If you keep on kissing me like that---"
"Like this?" Defiantly she kissed him again. Her eyes sparkled. Her cheeks bloomed pink. Her lips...well, her lips seemed pleased with themselves for having delivered such a nice---if chaste---kiss.
"---I don't know if I can remain a gentleman."
"You seem to be managing admirably so far."
If she only knew. His whole body felt rigid, taut with the need to pull Adeline close and kiss her properly. Maybe more.
Even now, when Clayton was doing his best to behave respectfully, his body insisted on betraying him. His eyes kept wandering to Adeline's naked ankles, causing him to envision her long, bare legs. His hand kept stroking her shoulder, inciting him to want to touch her elsewhere...all over. His nose kept on catching hints of her feminine fragrance, reminding him of all the wonderful ways they were different from one another.
And his mind... Well, his blasted mind was worst of all. Because his mind kept on offering up reminders of the happy times he and Adeline had spent together, talking and picnicking and laughing and reading and joking and holding hands. His mind wanted him to know that Adeline was the woman for him, body and soul and---with no irony at all---mind, too. Beset, Clayton sighed.
"I'm 'managing' because I care for you," he said honestly. "I respect you. I want to be good to you." Good just might rightly include making Adeline moan with pleasure, his wickeder instincts volunteered. Clayton had to clench his jaw to keep from giving her a deeper kiss. "This isn't a game between us. It's forever. That means I aim to do things right."
"Me, too. But I'm tired of waiting." Adeline shook her head. She aimed a roving glance at his mostly nude form. "Do you have any idea what you do to me? Just knowing you're bare naked under that tiny quilt has me feeling all kinds of fluttery inside. But do you care about that? No!" Indignantly she jutted her chin upward. "You're not the only one with feelings, you know."
Shocked, Clayton stared at her. "You...want me? Like that?"
"Yes! I'm not made of castile soap and sunflowers. I'm a woman! A woman who's been kissing you, and touching you, and seeing entirely more of your body than I ever have before---"
Clayton blinked, feeling ridiculously proud and unutterably tender toward her, all at once. To know that Adeline sometimes had wicked notions, too---to know that she trusted him enough to tell him so... Well, the realization felt downright liberating.
"---like your chest, for instance, which is a mighty fine example of a masculine chest, I would say," Adeline was rambling on, all huffy and flustered, "even though I don't have much to compare it with, and I keep wanting to touch it---"
Clayton took her hand. He put her palm on his chest.
Her mouth made an O. Her eyes widened to twin dark circles.
Beneath her hand, his skin felt hot. His heartbeat galloped. Feeling breathless and eager, Clayton kissed her.
"Then touch me," he said as his mouth came down on hers. Bliss coursed through him as Adeline's lips met his, as her startled exclamation burst forth, as her fingers flexed against his chest with what seemed to be wholly naive pleasure. "Touch me there. Anywhere. Oh, Adeline! I'm yours. I am."
All he'd ever wanted was her. And now, as Adeline opened her mouth to him---as she took his tongue against hers and moaned with the pure enjoyment of that intimate act---Clayton needed her, too. He needed to feel Adeline beside him the same way he needed air to breathe and britches to wear and the earth to hold him upright. If he'd died in that moment, he'd have been happy to meet his Maker...if only to tell the Almighty about his girl.
His Adeline.
She made him feel powerful and brave and welcome, and as Clayton brought his mouth to hers again, as he savored the slow, slippery glide of their mouths and tongues, he knew there was nothing more he could ask for...until Adeline started caressing his shoulder with soft, feathery, wonderful feminine touches.
With a moan, Clayton pressed his next kiss to her neck. She smelled so good. She felt so...good. Insensible and needful, he kissed her again, daring to try the smallest nibble of her earlobe. She gasped and clutched him harder. He did it again.
"Oh, Clay! You're wonderful. And you feel so...so nice."
Eyes shining, Adeline gazed up at him. Her face was filled with revelation; her cheeks were rosy with heat and vigor and maidenly virtue. As daft as it seemed to him, she looked as though she'd never glimpsed a sight as magical as his bare chest. Only Adeline could have made him feel so necessary to her. So admired. In that instant, Clayton vowed that no matter what happened between them that night, he would do everything he could to make Adeline happy. He would love her in every sense.
"Kiss me again," she breathed. "Please. I want you to."
Happily he obliged. He gave Adeline everything he could, telling her with his kiss that she was beautiful, that she was special, that she was his, forever after, and that he was beyond lucky because of it. He pressed his cheek against hers, enjoying the mingling of their breath and dreams and futures, then leaned back to gaze into her eyes again. "You're wondrous. I could kiss you all night, Adeline. But if we don't stop soon, I---"
"I want you to love me, Clayton." Misty-eyed, Adeline looked right back at him. She roamed her hands over his chest, undoubtedly not realizing how enthusiastically she caressed him. "Do you understand what I mean? I want to be with you."
At the notion, Clayton felt his body give a passionate leap. There wasn't a single part of him that didn't want to be with Adeline---except his well-intentioned, straitlaced mind. It rapidly was being overruled by the rugged, wanton rest of him.
"I want that, too," he confessed. Eyes closed, he tried to summon the wherewithal to resist...and failed. "I've dreamed of you so many times, Adeline. And now, with you so close---"
"You've dreamed of me?" She appeared delighted.
"Of course." He kissed her again...and nearly lost himself in the enthralling union of their mouths. Eventually he came up for breath. "I think of you all the time. I imagine us together. I wonder how you're doing. I consider what you're wearing."
He gave a devilish eyebrow waggle. Adeline gasped.
Then, teasingly, she lifted her skirt hem a few inches. "Did you ever consider me without stockings? Like this?"
"You'd be shocked at what I've imagined you wearing."
She seemed intrigued. "Like?"
"Like your corset. Or your drawers. Or...nothing at all."
He waited for her to chastise him. Or smack him. Or scream.
Instead she smiled like a woman with a delightful secret.
"Meet me upstairs in ten minutes." With a final lingering look, Adeline caressed him again. Then she turned and flounced bewitchingly away. "Maybe you'll see...nothing at all!"
Perched in her narrow bed wearing nothing but her favorite ribbon in her hair, Adeline waited for Clayton to arrive. After a frantic race upstairs and a frenzied, nearly destructive removal of her clothes, she'd spied that ribbon and decided it was exactly the embellishment she needed...exactly the flourish that would appropriately mark the momentous occasion when she and Clayton finally became one in the truest sense of all.
A rustle at the doorway alerted her to Clayton's arrival. Like the gentleman he was, he paused just outside. He gave a tiny cough. Full of appreciation for his thoughtfulness, Adeline smiled. She clutched her blankets high. "Please come in."
Clayton did. The sight of him there, in the privacy of her bedroom, lent her an illicit thrill. Heart pounding, Adeline gave him a nod. "You're right on time. I like that."
"Wild horses couldn't keep me away." Tenderly he gazed at her. He seemed intrigued by her pile of blankets. "Nice ribbon."
She swallowed, then touched her hair, newly reminded of her impromptu adornment. "I intend to press it in my scrapbook." She couldn't stop staring at his quilt, wishing it were gone. She felt very curious about what lay beneath. "You know. Afterward."
"You can put it next to my heart. That's already yours to keep." Clayton took a step nearer. "Are you sure about this?"
The sincerity in his gaze told her all she needed to know. Clayton would stick by her. He would love her. He would be her champion and her ally and her beloved. Warmed by that knowledge, Adeline nodded. "I've never been more sure about anything."
His smile made her giddy. It looked warm...and rascally.
He dropped his quilt. "Are you still sure?"
Riveted, Adeline stared. He was naked under there. Naked!
She'd known that, of course. She had. She'd all but planned it that way. But the idea and the reality...well, they were vastly different in their impacts. Because while she'd often---naughtily---envisioned Clayton in the altogether, her imaginings had always been vaguely...blurred. Likely owing to the fact that she'd never ever seen a real naked man before in all her life.
But the real Clayton, the right-here-and-right-now Clayton, wasn't the least bit blurry. No, he was sharp and strong and entirely present, from his fascinating broad shoulders to his long, toned arms, to his wide, hair-sprinkled chest, to his muscular abdomen, to his... Well, to his... She swallowed hard.
Rapidly Adeline whipped her gaze sideways. She could not quite bring herself to confront that most masculine part of him just yet. Particularly since it looked a bit intimidating. Instead she let her gaze travel down his lean legs to his feet.
Her eyes insisted on returning to his manhood. Which was understandable, honestly, given how very...arresting it looked.
"Does that hurt?" she blurted, feeling suddenly concerned. "You're so...big. It must be uncomfortable to walk around with all that in front of you." With effort, she lifted her gaze to his face---which appeared both love-struck and, somehow, uniquely pleased. "However do you fit everything in your trousers?"
A smile. "I manage. So...are you sure, Addy?"
Addy. She loved it when he called her that. Drawing in a deep breath, Adeline cast his nether regions another speculative glance. She knew approximately what was meant to happen between them. But the particulars escaped her. "Do you know what to do?"
"I feel certain inspiration will take hold, the moment I'm in your arms." His teasing gaze slid over the lumps and bumps of her blankets, then moved to her face. "I want to see you, too."
At the thought, a flush suffused her entire body. Her heart pounded. Her palms grew damp against the bedclothes. But Adeline Wilson had never once shirked from her destiny---and that's what Clayton was to her: her destiny. "That only seems fair."
Shakily she lifted her blankets. She slid sideways.
She caught a glimpse of Clayton's chivalrously outstretched hand, ready to help her from the bed, and silently blessed him for being so understanding. So kind. So gallant. So him.
Within a few giddy moments, Adeline was on her feet. Her toes scrunched in the latch-hook rug underfoot. Her belly gave a flip. Drawing in a breath, she raised her face to the lamplight.
"You're beautiful, Addy." Clayton breathed those words in an entirely awestruck tone. He stroked her arms as if to assure himself she was real. He stepped nearer. "So beautiful."
She felt beautiful, just then. No longer was she simply Adeline Wilson, farmer's daughter. Or Adeline Wilson, dutiful neighbor. Or Adeline Wilson, dependable friend. Tonight, beneath Clayton's worshipful gaze, she was beautiful Adeline Wilson.
She was desirable Addy, ready to experience everything true love had to offer. Including Clayton's manhood...and her own overheated feelings of yearning and curiosity and needfulness.
"Clay?" She gazed at him, nearly losing herself in the mesmerizing darkness of his eyes, the intent passion on his face, the unmistakable love in his smile. "What do I do now?"
He caressed her cheek, then kissed her. "Let me love you."
She scoffed. "Surely that's not all! My part must be---"
"---to enjoy everything we share. That's all." With a sweet murmur, Clayton kissed her again. His tongue met hers in that beguiling way, sweeping all the good sense from her mind. "Aww, Addy." He pulled her fully into his arms. "You're everything to me. If I can make you half as happy as you make me---"
"Then we'll be even." Audaciously Adeline kissed him, too. She even dared to give her tongue a timid poke toward his.
Groaning, Clayton cradled her head. He kissed her harder.
Then he gave her a puzzled look. "Why are you smiling?"
"Because if your reaction is anything to go by, I think I must be good at this." She smiled more broadly. "See?"
Tentatively she trailed her hands down his bare chest. Her fingers encountered taut slabs of muscle, then flat, masculine nipples, and---moving lower still---intriguing ridges of abdomen. Beneath her touch, Clayton sucked in his belly. He gasped.
Adeline skittered her hands upward again. She kissed him.
Clayton appeared to be struggling for air. "Yes. I see. You are unreservedly good at this." He pressed his forehead to hers. "Now let me show you what I can do."
Eagerly Adeline waited. But all Clayton did, at first, was look at her. Confused, she stared back at him. Then she realized that he wasn't just looking...he was seeing. He was remembering.
"The first time I came to call on you, I wanted to hold your hand." Tenderly he took it. "But your papa looked as if he'd wallop me if I tried, so I didn't. I regretted it later."
His repentant grin looked so endearing, Adeline sighed.
"When you went with me to the Independence Day town picnic, you undid your top dress button, there beneath our shade tree---"
"It was very hot!" Adeline declared in her own defense.
"---and I wanted to kiss you...right here."
To demonstrate, Clayton pressed a kiss to her collarbone. Slowly he meandered up to her neck. He kissed her jaw, then her cheek, then her mouth. Slowly. Deeply. Movingly. Caught beneath his irresistible kisses, Adeline tipped back her head. She closed her eyes. Pleasure cascaded all the way down to her toes.
"Remember the Hallowe'en gala?" Clayton went on. "After we danced? Out in the moonlight, you got next to me for warmth---"
"I remember." That had been a magical night.
"---and you pressed right up to me, and I could feel you---" with exquisite care, Clayton cradled her breasts "---just here, and I wanted so much to touch you, exactly the way I am right now."
Gasping, Adeline shut her eyes more tightly. All she could feel were Clayton's hands, slowly caressing her. All she knew were the delicate budding of her nipples against his fingers and the surprisingly intense good feelings that showered through her next. She wanted, wanted...something. She didn't know what.
"When I saw you at the creek today, so pretty and free---"
"And stocking-less," she found the breath to remind him.
"---and stocking-less," Clayton agreed with a smile in his voice, "it was all I could do not to wade in the water and take you in my arms right then." His hands swept from her breasts to her belly to her hips, tracing steady, somehow maddening circles over her skin. His fingers pressed into her hips, holding her secure for...something. "I wanted to touch you, Adeline. I wanted to know if you would like this. I knew I would like it."
With a groan, Clayton moved his hands lower, to her thighs. He stroked her there, then moved inexorably higher. Helpless to resist, incredibly curious, emboldened by love, Adeline waited.
"Do you, Addy? Do you like it if I do this?" With a whisper-soft touch, Clayton brushed his fingers over the dark curls at her thighs. He did it again, even more affectingly. "Do you?"
All Adeline could do was whimper. She nodded, quivering in Clayton's strong arms. It was fortunate he was a burly mill worker, she thought dazedly. Otherwise, she might have---
Fallen. Suddenly she was falling. But in the next instant, her own rumpled bedclothes and comfortable mattress cushioned her descent---and a moment after that, Clayton landed on top of her, propping himself up on his elbows and knees, kissing her as though he simply could not get enough, and somehow his hand was still between her thighs, and no matter what, Adeline could not squirm away, because then the amazing, trembling, necessary sensations he was calling forth from her body might stop. And Adeline simply couldn't bear that thought. She needed this.
She needed him. She needed Clayton, for tonight and always.
"Oh, please! Please!" she begged, not knowing what she was asking for but needing it all the same. "Clay, I feel so...oh!"
His fingers whisked over her again, exploring all her most delicate and feminine places, and Adeline realized with a start that she was damp and slick and somehow pulsating there.
"You feel perfect," he said in a husky tone. "Perfect."
"I feel..." She gasped. Arching herself against Clayton, Adeline grabbed hold of his hard-muscled shoulder. She panted, wriggling with irrepressible motions. "Wanton. Oh, Clayton!"
Digging her heels in the blankets, Adeline arched higher. Her movements brought her hip tightly against Clayton's groin. She felt him, in all his immense masculinity, pressed against her skin. She could not have moved away, not for any inducement. His manhood felt hot and hard and silkily smooth. It felt insistent and impressive and a tiny bit frightening.
Adeline opened her eyes.
My. She and Clay were twined as tightly as could be. His skin was against her skin; his sweat mingled with hers; his breath panted over her as closely as hers did him. Beneath them, her bed gave a meager creak. The clock ticked, reminding her that this was real, not a dream. This was her and Clay together.
"Can I touch you?" she breathed. "I'll be careful."
Clayton's gaze met hers. He looked bedazzled and intent and besotted. Most likely, it occurred to Adeline, he looked exactly the same way she did, whenever she dared to open her eyes.
He gave a muttered oath. "Yes. Anywhere. Yes, touch me."
At his suggestion, Adeline prepared herself. Stealthily she slid her palm lower. Lower. With a sense of anticipation, she watched as her hand got nearer...nearer. Holding her breath, she stroked his manhood. It grew bigger, startling her.
"Oh! I'm sorry!" Worried, she glanced at him. His jaw was set, his brow firm, and she knew she'd hurt him. "Please, Clay---"
"Don't stop," he ground out breathlessly.
Hmmm. With a combined sense of inquisitiveness and care, Adeline touched him again. He felt hot and smooth and hard and good.
Seeing Clayton close his eyes and moan beneath her ministrations, Adeline felt wonderful.
"I can't---" he panted, reaching for her. "I need...you."
"I'm quite satisfied here," she told him with cheeky wickedness. "It might be quite a while before I'm done, so---"
"Ah. You're killing me, Addy."
Instantly she raised her hand. "I am?"
He rolled them both sideways, face-to-face with their legs intertwined, then delivered her a smile. "Only in the nicest way possible. I've dreamed of this. Dreamed of you. And now..."
His hand moved to the junction of her thighs again. Where once she'd felt warm there, now she felt blazing hot. Where once she'd felt wet, now she felt liquefied with passion and need. Feeling on the brink of...something, Adeline gave in to Clay's wordless urging to open her thighs. She did, and felt the most remarkable, teasing pressure.
Breathlessly she went still. Gently Clayton stroked her. Gladly her body allowed him inside. His fingertip pressed a little further, ever so gently, and Adeline trembled.
"Sweet Addy." Clayton lowered his head to her breast. His lips brushed across her nipple, arousing it to another peak. His tongue traced its outline, then gave a gentle lick. "My Addy.
Beneath him, Adeline tossed her head. Her heartbeat seemed to fill her ears; her thighs shook with tension. Her body urged itself nearer to Clayton, seeking some completion to this incredible wanting. Clayton flexed his wrist, pressing his palm to her femininity as though to hold her steady, even as he went on stroking her, bit by exciting bit, and although Adeline knew he must need her to be still, it was suddenly all she could do not to scream with enjoyment.
Higher and higher she spiraled, and if not for Clayton's strong arms to hold her, Adeline knew she would have sailed clear up into the dark summertime sky and flown away. But Clayton kept her grounded. With his arms and his sweet words and his skillful hands, he kept her grounded with him on her cozy, pillow-tossed bed, and he held her there until Adeline thought she might well be coming undone. Her limbs stiffened. Sparks shattered behind her closed eyelids. She heard a hoarse voice---her voice---calling out Clayton's name. Then tremors shook her.
Never had she felt anything more powerful. More moving. More earth-shattering. Overcome, Adeline felt her ears ringing. Her body pulsed all over, even in places she'd been mostly unaware of until right this minute. Abashed and enthralled, she opened her eyes to see Clayton---and then things got even better.
"I'm going to love you, Addy." Clayton stroked her face, his expression full of caring and wonder. "Are you ready?"
"Yes." If what was to come would be anything like what she'd just experienced... Avidly Adeline nodded. "I'm ready."
"Good." After a lingering kiss---and a heartfelt smile---Clayton settled himself between her thighs. "Hold on to me."
Adeline could do nothing else. Because when Clayton entered her---slowly, gently and tremblingly---she felt as though nothing else in the whole world existed except him...except the two of them, together. Inch by inch, Clayton changed her. With every thrust, every kiss, every deeper sensation of fullness, he made her more and more his own. He taught her exactly what it meant to be united. She'd never experienced anything more remarkable.
Holding still, Adeline gazed into Clayton's face, enthralled by the changes she saw there. Amazement passed over his features; so did pleasure and desire. But most transformative of all was love. As Clay brought himself fully inside her---as she arched helplessly to meet him---he genuinely loved her. His feelings were there in his kiss and in his caress. They were there in his moans.
They were there in his movements, which grew ever faster and more deliberate. Thrilled by the realization that she was giving such pleasure to him, Adeline daringly lowered her hands to his backside. She squeezed him there, wordlessly letting him know that she wanted him closer...closer. Murmuring sweetly to her, Clayton did come closer. And somehow, Adeline did, too.
That sensation she'd experienced before returned, leaving her quivery and panting. Heart racing, Adeline arched higher. Her thighs quaked. Her body pulsed. This time, when she went still beneath a compelling wave of pleasure, Clayton did, too.
Holding her in his arms, he stiffened. Eyes wide, he shouted his joy at being with her. Feeling suffused with a sort of hazy gladness, Adeline smiled. Clay smiled. They both sighed.
Still wearing his smile---and sinfully, nothing else---Clayton stroked her hair, arranging those long brown strands prettily on her pillow. He kissed her. "You make me so happy, Addy." Clearly besotted, he gave all the rest of her a giddy glance. "Are you all right? Are you hurt anyplace? Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine. Better than fine." It was true. She'd feared there would be pain. But if there had been, Adeline had been too preoccupied with all those other new sensations to notice. With a lifetime's worth of caring in her heart, she smiled. She drew in a deep breath. "I love you, Clayton. With all my heart."
He smiled at her. "I love you, too, Addy. Never doubt it."
"I won't. I have faith in you." She always had, despite his overdue marriage proposal. But if there was ever an opportune time for such a thing, it occurred to her, this was it! After all, they were alone and very, very close. "I always have."
Smiling, Clayton rolled over. He cradled her against him. For a long while, they lay intertwined among the bedclothes, peacefully savoring everything that had occurred between them. Adeline couldn't help imagining more nights like this one---nights they would share once Clayton had proposed, and she'd accepted.
"You know," she ventured to hint, "I've been thinking..."
"Me, too." Cheerfully Clayton kissed her. "And you know what? I reckon we're probably thinking exactly the same thing."
Could they be? Breath held, Adeline stared at him.
Propose, she willed him. Please propose. Just do it!
"We should share a bath!" Clayton announced. "I saw the tub when I was stripping off my clothes. I'll go pump some water."
Full of eager chivalry, he stepped out of bed. It was plain he couldn't wait to please her---and thought they were united in their desire for a bubbly wash-up. Distraught, Adeline sighed.
Clayton heard. Instantly he stilled. "Are you all right?"
Given the concern in his voice, she couldn't say no. And given the fact that her complaints about his tardy proposal had led to Violet's scheme, she definitely couldn't tell the truth---not entirely, at least. Plus, Adeline wasn't that forward.
It wasn't as though she could do the proposing herself!
She settled on, "I'm just a little sad. You know...now that things are all over with between us, here in the bedroom."
"'All over with'?" Again, that devilish gleam entered Clay's gaze. Fully and superbly naked, he smiled at her. "Oh, Addy. I promise, it's not all over with. Not by a long shot. As soon as I make sure you're all right---possibly by giving you a nice thorough inspection and a good hot soaping up---there'll be more between us." His gaze promised it. "Much more. All right?"
Mutely Adeline nodded. She wanted that proposal, to be sure. She definitely did. But given Clayton's description of the evening's imminent events... Well, now she wanted those things, too! Shyly she peeked at him. "Can I soap up you, too?"
Another grin. "I'd be powerfully disappointed if you didn't." Clayton extended his hand to her. "Come with me, love."
So Adeline did. It wasn't a proposal. Not yet. But if she had her way---and she fully intended to---it would be. Very soon.
"Besides," Clayton added with a scandalous wink, "these things don't always have to happen in the bedroom, you know."
They didn't? Aflutter with the possibilities, Adeline took his proffered hand. "No, I didn't know that. But now that I do, you'd better watch out, Mr. Davis. Because I'm mighty intrigued!"
The morning after his splendid night with Adeline, Clayton sat at her farmhouse's kitchen table, near the place's sunniest window, with---very possibly---the most avidly used manly parts of anyone in the whole territory. Achy but elated, he listened to Addy humming at the stove as she cooked flapjacks for breakfast.
She had a lovely voice. Hell, everything about her was lovely! Her smile, her face and her warm brown eyes. Her voice, her belly and her long, shapely legs. Her laughter, her generosity, and her ready-to-hug-him arms. Even Adeline's toes were attractive, Clayton thought. A man who could be as besotted as he was... Well, that man was pretty far gone. Fully in love.
For the umpteenth time, Clayton reached into his pocket. He withdrew a crumpled pink ribbon. He smoothed it over his rough fingers, then looped it over his knuckles. He raised it to his cheek. It felt soft and good, like Addy. Helplessly he smiled.
Seeing Adeline with this ribbon in her hair last night had changed him. Loving her last night had changed him. Never again would he simply be ordinary Clayton Davis, brawny millworker. Or Clayton Davis, affable neighbor. Or Clayton Davis, dart-throwing champion at Jack Murphy's saloon. Now he was Clayton Davis---Adeline's Clayton Davis---who had found the woman of his dreams and then learned to his delight that she truly loved him back.
With a sigh, Clayton rubbed his thumb over his keepsake ribbon. Without a doubt, Adeline was the woman he wanted. Now all that remained was to offer her a proposal and make her his.
The only trouble was, he couldn't do that. Not yet. He couldn't offer Adeline a name that was tainted by rumors of thievery! Before anything else, he had to clear his name. Last night, he hadn't been thinking clearly. But today...
"I've decided to go into town." Steepling his hands, Clayton gave Adeline a serious look. "To see Sheriff Caffey."
"Oh." With her back to him, she paused. "Whatever for?"
"You know what for. I have to clear my name. Especially now." Especially now that we've been together...intimately. His conscience wouldn't allow him to do anything less. For Addy.
"Mmm." As though he'd decided nothing of consequence, she bustled over. She flipped flapjacks on his plate. "Eat first."
"No." Clayton realized he was still holding the telltale ribbon. Feeling himself flush, he pocketed it. "It can't wait."
"Of course it can wait." With an adorable hip wiggle, Adeline gestured for him to make room on his lap. She sat, then looped her arms around his neck. She gazed into his eyes. "Everything can wait. Except maybe...my curiosity, that is."
"Your curiosity?"
"About what you said last night." Her gaze turned downright impish. "About...things that could happen almost anywhere?"
At her seductive look, Clayton was a goner. That look reminded him of everything they'd shared---and a few things they hadn't. "Damnation, Miss Wilson! You're a minx sometimes!"
She kissed him. "I think you like that about me, Mr. Davis."
"More than you know." Distracted by the captivating roundness of her bottom against his lap, Clayton lowered his hand. He stroked her. They both moaned. "Let's talk later."
The next morning, Clayton got as far as pulling out his keepsake ribbon, reminding himself of how very crucial it was that he hightail it directly to the sheriff's office, and giving Addy his most stern-faced, determined look...before she coyly invited him upstairs to help her "make the bed" and blew all his good intentions clear out of the water, lickety-split.
Together, they stepped into the bedroom. Before them, Adeline's bedstead stood with its bedclothes cast hither and yon. A pillow lay on the bureau. The mattress itself was askew. Clothes---both his and hers---draped every surface and the floor.
Adeline tsked. "This room is a shambles."
"Indeed, it is," Clayton agreed. "I enjoyed every moment of making it look this way, too." He smiled at her, awash in pleasant---and pleasurable---memories. "Late breakfast again today?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
They sank to the bed, laughing between kisses. Filled with giddy anticipation, Clayton trailed his hand from Adeline's ankle to her knee. He kissed her knee, then caressed higher.
"Kissing my knee?" Adeline giggled. The sound delighted him unabashedly. "I declare, Clay---if you're already running out of places to kiss me, I simply don't know what we'll do."
"Oh, I'm not running out of places to kiss you." To prove it, Clayton gave her a gentle nip on her inner thigh. She yelped with surprise...then sighed as his next kiss turned gentler. "I have lots of places yet where I'd like to kiss you. Like here."
Sweetly he kissed a little higher. Caught by surprise yet again, Adeline wriggled. "Clay?" Sounding breathless, she clutched his head. "Shouldn't we undress? All my skirts are---"
"They're no trouble at all." He delved beneath them, flipping them aside. Then it was his turn to be surprised. Immediately transfixed, Clayton gazed at her. "You're naked under here. No stockings, no drawers...nothing except you."
"I had the notion you might like that," she confessed with a playful smile. "And on a practical note, it's a time saver!"
"I don't think either of us is concerned about saving time." Lowering his head, Clayton kissed her---gently and thrillingly---at the junction of her thighs. "I love kissing you this way, Addy. I'd like to go on...if you don't mind."
"Mind?" She sounded dazed. "I think I'd die if you didn't!"
So for the second time in two days, Clayton found himself utterly unable to get himself to the sheriff's office. He was a wanted man, all right---but right now, all he wanted was Addy.
With a fondness that felt entirely evident in her gaze, Adeline watched as Clayton sat at her kitchen table on their third morning together, rubbing his thumb over her pink memento hair ribbon. If she didn't wrestle away that ribbon from him soon, she'd never get it into her scrapbook. Clay seemed downright determined to claim her keepsake for himself.
But Adeline didn't really mind. She thought Clayton's sentimentality was sweet. Watching a big, tough mill worker like Clayton gently handle that delicate grosgrain scrap made her go all gooey inside. So did his smile, when he turned it on her a second later. My, but he was wonderful! So irresistible.
Already they'd shared some amazing nights together. Maybe it was wrong, being together this way, but Adeline had loved it.
More plainly, she loved Clayton. She loved that he helped with her chores---at least he did, between kisses and caresses and romantic interludes. She loved that he cradled her close and let her put her head on his shoulder. She loved that he listened to her talk in the darkness before sleeping. She even loved that he worried so much about his "tarnished reputation" and wanted to shine it up properly so he could share it with her in marriage.
She didn't love that she couldn't tell him about Violet and her well-meant scheming. On the day Clayton had arrived, Adeline had sent a message to Violet with the intention of learning what her friend's plan was. She still hadn't heard back from her.
Until she did... Clayton had to stay. Simple as that.
He glanced up. "Today, I'm definitely going to town."
"Of course," Adeline agreed good-naturedly. She poured him more coffee, then sat across from him to drink hers. "Soon?"
Clayton gazed at the buttons she'd strategically left undone on her dress bodice. He smiled. "Fairly soon. Yes."
"I see." She didn't want their idyllic togetherness to end. Yes, it had served its purpose in keeping Clayton in the dark about Violet's sham "manhunt." But it had also brought her and Clayton closer together...indelibly so. "Can I go with you?"
He frowned. "I want you to stay here, where you're safe."
Adeline pondered that for a minute. Clayton stroked his pilfered memento hair ribbon, lost in thought. The fragrance of fresh coffee drifted on the kitchen air, heady and invigorating.
"Well, I'd better let you go then. Right after breakfast." Adeline propped her chin in her hand. Her gaze drifted lower. "Clay, I was wondering... Can I kiss you, the way you did me, yesterday?" The memory of it made her blush. "I'm intrigued by---"
His gaze met hers. He appeared riveted by the notion. His hand fisted on her poor little hair ribbon, almost mangling it.
"---by the idea of it," she finished hurriedly, "but if that's simply not done, then I understand. I'm sorry. I find you so fascinating, you see, and I'd like to share that with you."
He swallowed hard. "I...would like that."
His blunt statement pleased her. So did the general attitude of attentiveness she spied in his britches. "Good!"
"If I didn't know better," Clayton said with a grin, "I'd swear you're trying to keep me from going to town today."
Adeline almost choked on his perceptiveness. She was genuinely curious about kissing him in such an intimate fashion. But there was no denying that she also wanted to stop Clayton from going to town. Hedging, Adeline said, "Well, I..."
Then, through the open kitchen window, she heard the distinctive sound of hoofbeats in the farmhouse's front yard. Outside, she glimpsed Sheriff Caffey, one of his deputies, two local men...and a beleaguered-looking Violet at their side.
The sheriff looked ornerier than a snake. It appeared that the time for delaying matters had past. Whether Adeline and Clayton were ready or not, the truth had come looking for them.
"I am trying to keep you from going to town," Adeline confessed hastily. She stood, hoping to forestall the moment when the sheriff and his men interrupted. "The thing is, Clay, that no one was ever after you at all! It was just a ruse---"
"Is that Violet Benson?" Clayton peered through the window. "And Sheriff Caffey?" Grim-faced, he stood, too, obviously preparing to defend himself. Then he appeared to hear what she'd said. His expression turned comically surprised. "A ruse?"
"I told Violet not to do it!" Adeline swore. "I told her you'd propose on your own time! I told her you were saving up."
"You spoke with Violet about me? About us? About proposing?" His brow furrowed in a fearsome fashion. "Why, Adeline?"
She longed for him to call her Addy again. In a dither, she threw up her hands. The sheriff knocked at the door. Adeline pegged the sound as being decidedly threatening. She swallowed.
"Because everyone in town knows you haven't proposed yet!" she blurted, unable to keep the embarrassing truth inside any longer. It had kept company with her own disappointment for far too long already. "They all think you never will propose. Ever."
Clayton seemed astonished. "Do you think that?"
Uncomfortably Adeline wrung her hands. She lifted her gaze to Clayton's face, pleading with him to understand. "All I've ever wanted was to be yours, Clayton. The rest doesn't matter."
He tightened his jaw. "It matters to me."
Another knock at the door. Clayton glanced in that direction. Any sensible man would have run the other way. But Clayton---her Clayton---stood his ground. He opened his hand. A bit of something pink drifted to the table. Her keepsake ribbon.
He no longer wanted that memento of their first night together, Adeline realized in despair. Everything was ruined.
"I'll answer the door," Clayton said. "You stay here."
On the verge of disagreeing, Adeline nodded. "I love you!"
But all Clayton did was walk away, headed to what he thought was certain condemnation---and days without her---without so much as a single look back. Biting back a sob, she let him go.
Clayton couldn't believe Adeline had spoken to other people about their courtship. He couldn't believe she'd had to defend his lack of a marriage proposal---defend him---to the entire town of Morrow Creek. Most of all, he couldn't believe innocent Violet Benson, the preacher's daughter, had duped him into going on the run from a nonexistent posse and a crooked sheriff who probably had no more interest in Clayton than he did in knitting mittens.
But when he opened the door on the party assembled there, he realized that's exactly what had happened. Adeline had held up her head while the whole town gossiped about her and him and their future. Her friend had somehow stepped in to inveigle a "solution" of some kind. The sheriff and his men had doubtless been bamboozled into going along with it. Stacked against two determined womenfolk, what chance could they possibly have had?
"Morning, Sheriff Caffey." Reaching for his hat, Clayton realized he wasn't wearing one. Suddenly all too aware of his informal appearance, he straightened. "What can I do for you?"
The sheriff removed his hat. He peered past Clayton into the farmhouse's interior. "I was expecting to see Miss Wilson."
Clayton had no intention of letting the lawman near her. "That's funny. I heard you were looking for me."
"I was." Appearing uncomfortable, Caffey scratched his head. He cast a sour-faced look at Violet Benson. "But it seems that was all a misunderstanding. Miss Benson thought she saw that ruthless gang, the Bedell brothers, hiding out at your place the other day. I reckon if you saw us looking for them at your cabin, you might have gotten the wrong idea."
"I see." That explained the gun-toting assemblage he'd seen. "Given that, plus the fact that Miss Benson specifically told me you were on the lookout for me... I guess a man could get a mite confused on that account." Clayton cast Violet a chary look. He addressed the sheriff. "Is that all?"
"Yep." The sheriff squinted. "I reckon that's it."
Violet Benson elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.
Sheriff Caffey directed a begrudging look at her. "All right, I'm still talking!" he assured Violet. To Clayton, he said, "Your reputation is clear, Davis. I promised Miss Benson---"
"And my father, Minister Benson!" Violet specified.
"---that I'd be certain to let you know that. Do we understand each other, or do I have to keep jawing at you?"
The man's obvious disgruntlement almost made Clayton smile, despite everything. It wasn't often Sheriff Caffey made amends.
"I think Mr. Davis understands perfectly." Violet gave the lawman an approving nod. "Thank you kindly, Sheriff. You've certainly done a good deed in the eyes of the Lord today."
Caffey seemed visibly relieved. Apparently crooked Sheriff Caffey wasn't afraid of anything---except the Almighty. Somehow the minister's daughter had invoked His name to sort things out.
With a gruff goodbye for Clayton, the sheriff and his men ambled off the porch. They left Violet behind, but she didn't seem to mind. Instead she moved closer with a confiding air.
"I'm sorry about all this, Clayton." With a concerned look, Violet gazed past his shoulder for a glimpse of Adeline. "I promise you, I only had the best of intentions! But I'm not used to meddling this way, and I'm afraid I'm not very good at it. When I told you that fib about the sheriff and his posse, I didn't think it through. I only wanted to make you leave town for a few days---just long enough for you to start missing Adeline and want to propose to her. When I got that note from Adeline, saying you were hiding out here with her, I figured I'd done a good thing! I figured you two had probably eloped already."
Adeline had sent a note? Startled, Clayton frowned. That explained how the sheriff had managed to find him, but... "You and Adeline cooked up this scheme together? I don't believe it."
"You shouldn't believe it! It was me. All me. But I'm sorry for it, and that's why I asked the sheriff to come out and help me set things straight this morning. I promise, I'll never fib again!" Earnestly Violet pressed on. "You know we all love Adeline. We do! We want her to be happy. And you do seem to have taken her a mite for granted these past two years---"
That's what all this had been about? Taking Adeline for granted? He'd never done that. But he could see how someone might think he had. He had been sweet on Adeline a long time.
"Thank you for explaining." Roughly Clayton reached up to tip his hat to Violet. Belatedly he remembered anew that he'd left his headwear inside with Adeline---along with all his hopes and dreams. Right now, he feared that's all he and Adeline would ever have, thanks to his mistakes. "But that won't be a problem anymore," he said soberly. "The truth is, Adeline and I are---"
"We're finished," Adeline interrupted, stepping onto the front porch with them. "I'm sorry, Violet," she told the minister's daughter, "but your plan didn't work." She gave Clayton a lonesome look. "Clayton's already given up on me. It's over with." She hauled in a deep breath, then held out his hat. "I'm sorry about all this, Clayton. I was wrong to withhold the truth from you. I understand if you want to leave."
Bravely Adeline stood with Clayton's upturned hat in her hands, waiting for him to take it. It had required all the courage she possessed to step out onto the porch. She didn't think she could stand it if he delayed their goodbyes. As it was, she could scarcely see him, so tear-filled were her eyes.
Obviously taken aback by her arrival, Clayton stared at her. She could not read his expression, thanks to her dratted tears. She squared her shoulders, watching miserably as her beloved Clayton merely took his hat, then...peeked into it?
Whatever he saw there pleased him. He smiled.
He reached in, then withdrew the pink keepsake ribbon she'd dropped in before coming outside. She'd wanted Clayton to have it. She hadn't wanted to see him holding it again. Not so soon.
Adeline gulped back a breath. This was breaking her heart!
"Adeline and I---" Clayton repeated in a clear, certain, almost booming voice, "are getting engaged---provided I can convince her to say yes." Still holding the ribbon, he dropped to one knee, right there on the porch in full view of Violet and the neighbors and the sheriff and the deputy and the posse, and he took Adeline's hand in his. When he looked up at her, his handsome face was filled with contrition and---she dared to hope---enduring love, too. "I'm sorry, Adeline. So sorry! I never knew you were waiting on me. I thought you realized...I knew I'd move heaven and earth to have you for my own, and I thought you knew that, too. Hell, I thought everyone in town could see it on my face." Clayton reached up. He thumbed away her tears, then smiled at her. "I'm a fool for you, Addy. And I guess I'm just a plain fool, too. Because I thought I needed more savings and more money to make you happy---"
Through her haze of tears and surprise, Adeline realized something: he'd called her Addy again. He did love her. He did!
"---but now I know that I don't need anything except the two of us, together, just the way we've been for the past few days." Giving her a stirringly intimate look, Clayton squeezed her hand. He pulled it to his chest, where she could feel his heart galloping along. "That's enough for me. I hope, with all my heart, it's enough for you. Because I love you like crazy, Addy. When I'm apart from you, you're all I can think about. When we're together, I just want to stay that way. I want to have babies with you, and grow old with you, and dance with you, and laugh with you. I'm sorry for making you wait. I'm so sorry---"
"Oh, Clayton! I'm sorry, too!" With a sob of joy, Adeline clung to his hand. Never had a man looked more remorseful, more handsome...more right. More hers. "I should have told you the truth about Violet's scheme, only I was afraid you'd leave! I was so enjoying being with you. I didn't want our time to end."
"It never has to end. Please, Addy---please say you'll be mine." Clayton twined the pink ribbon into a makeshift band. Holding it as though it was the most treasured ring in the whole territory, he offered it to her along with a hopeful smile. "I know this isn't much, but it comes with all my love and all my heart. Will you marry me?"
"Yes!" Sniffling back tears, laughing at the same time, Adeline threw her arms around Clayton. She sank to the porch beside him, even as Violet---ever the romantic---sighed nearby. "Of course, I'll marry you, Clayton! I'll marry you, and I promise I'll make you the best wife ever! I love you, and I'm sorry---"
"Don't be sorry. Not ever again." Tenderly Clayton slipped the ribbon on her finger. Sweetly he tied it in place. Softly he kissed her hand. "I hope this will do for now."
"For forever," Adeline corrected him with a grin. "There's nothing more I could ask for except you. I love you so much."
"And I love you." Giving her his most roguish smile yet, Clayton drew her near. His next kiss landed on her mouth, and it was---wonderfully and lovingly---quite magnificent. "Don't worry," he whispered as he pressed his forehead gently against hers. "I do have enough saved up for a proper ring, I promise."
Adeline gave him a playful smile. "You're just angling to keep this ring all to yourself, for your own scrapbook!" she teased. "I've seen the way you eyeball this pink ribbon, Mr. Davis. I do believe you're a secret sentimentalist at heart."
"If I'm not mistaken, Miss Wilson, I believe you like me that way." Clayton grinned. He stroked back her hair, then gallantly helped her to her feet. Together on the farmhouse's front porch, they stood arm in arm. "And if I didn't know better, I'd swear we have ourselves some celebrating to do!"
"You do know better," Adeline declared. "Because we do!"
Violet perked up. "You're going to town? Hurray! Everyone will be absolutely thrilled to know about your engagement!"
Clayton paused. He looked at Adeline. She looked at him.
"Yes," he mused. "Eventually we'll go to town."
"That's right," Adeline agreed, lacing his fingers with hers. Her new pink-ribbon ring tickled her palm. "But first we'll stay here awhile, for a different sort of celebrating."
"A more private sort of celebrating." Clayton kissed her.
"But---" At a loss, Violet gaped at them. "But this is such exciting news! You're not going to share it with everyone?"
"Soon," Clayton said. "Right now, we're going to share it with each other." He opened the door. He tugged Adeline's hand.
"Bye, Violet! I'll see you soon!" Then, squealing with delight, Adeline let herself be led back inside her farmhouse.
With Clayton by her side, she truly did have all she needed. Even as she dimly heard Violet and the others leave---even as she felt Clayton sweep her up into his arms and carry her---she felt like the most contented woman in all the territory.
To her surprise, Clayton strode directly back to the front door. Perplexed, Adeline stared at him from her perch in his strong arms. "Clay? What are you doing?"
Without a word, Clayton shouldered open the door. He went outside. On the shadowy front porch, just beyond the threshold of the still-open door, he stopped. Then he gazed lovingly down at her...and maybe at her ankles, too, the rascally man.
"You didn't think I'd forget to carry you over the threshold like a true bride, did you?" he asked with a grin.
Secretly thrilled, Adeline protested anyway. Propriety demanded it. "But that tradition's for after we're married!"
Clayton shrugged. "Then I'll do it again." Longingly, lingeringly, he kissed her. "For you, I'll do anything."
"For you, I'll do exactly the same thing," Adeline vowed.
Then, on the second hottest day in the memory of any Morrow Creek resident, Adeline Wilson got exactly what she'd been longing for, all along: the devotion of the man she would love forever---and a brief, bridal-style trip over the threshold, too...just to whet her appetite for everything that would come very soon!
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When she found herself living in modern-day Arizona Territory, Lisa Plumley decided to take advantage of it by immersing herself in the state's fascinating history -- visiting ghost towns and historical sites, and finding inspiration in the desert and mountains surrounding her. It didn't take long before she got busy creating light-hearted romances like this one, featuring strong-willed women, ruggedly intelligent men, and the unexpected situations that bring them together.
When she's not writing, Lisa loves to spend time with her husband and two children, travelling, hiking, watching classic movies, reading, and defending her trivia-game championship. She enjoys hearing from readers, and invites you to contact her via e-mail at lisa@lisaplumley.com, or visit her website at www.lisaplumley.com
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8014-8
Wanton in the West
Copyright © 2011 by Lisa Plumley
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