Harlot (14 page)

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Caleb floated in the still
pool of the creek bend. The lye soap had removed even the most stubborn of the trail grit, and if his skin stung in a few places, at least he was truly clean.

He watched a fat little cloud glide across the patch of blue visible between cottonwood leaves, and he tried to tell himself that he couldn’t want what he wanted. He’d tried to tell himself that a hundred times in the past week. A thousand. Yet what he always wanted was Jess. As much as she’d hurt him, it had hurt a hell of a lot more to imagine never seeing her again. He loved her. He’d never stopped.

Did it matter, what she’d done with other men? The things he’d done with other women hadn’t changed his feelings for Jess. Those things had been separate, barely even real. Surely that’s what it had been like for her, as well.

If he could forgive her, could she forgive him?

He rose up and shook the water from his hair, picking his way over slick stones to the rock where he’d set the towel. The fabric was thin and tattered, reminding him again that Jess wasn’t the pampered young girl he’d fallen in love with. She was different now. A woman. Damaged and roughed up the same as he was. Stronger, maybe.

Maybe neither of their pasts mattered. Maybe he’d been a damn fool the whole time.

He dressed in clean clothes, then folded the clothes he’d washed in the stream and set them in the pail to carry back to Jess’s place. He walked the same trail he’d taken out, stopping to mark the trees where he’d set the snares so he could tell Jess where to find them, in case she sent him packing tonight.

The women were laughing in the kitchen when he got back. He stopped five feet shy of the back doorway and listened for a moment, fascinated by the sound. It was carefree. Teasing. And he couldn’t believe his goal had been to give Jess the opposite of that. To punish her and make her weep. Surely she must have done enough weeping for a lifetime.

Caleb set the pail close to the stairs and took his wet clothes to hang on the line. Hammering from behind the barn drew him in that direction and he found Bill there, the big man trying to hold a plank steady as he nailed it in.

“Give you a hand?” Caleb asked.

Bill nodded as if he’d already known Caleb was there. “This damn cow’s as stubborn as the mule. The grass in here isn’t good enough, I guess, because she sure wants it from somewhere else.”

Caleb grabbed the plank and looked around at the evidence of multiple repairs to the paddock. “Maybe there’s a bull around somewhere, catching her interest.”

Bill shrugged. “She never goes far. Just far enough to cause trouble.” They worked on reinforcing the fence for an hour, then moved on to rehanging a barn door that had come loose in a storm. By the time dinner came around, Caleb had to take another quick wash. His stomach growled at the smell of roasted rabbit drifting out of the kitchen.

He caught the women mid-chuckle when he walked in. Jessica blushed and looked away, but the smile stayed on her lips. “There’s not much rabbit, but I’m sure we’ll never run out of beans.”

“I set snares,” Caleb said. “Three of them. They’re right on the trail, but I marked the trees just in case. I could show you how to set them.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“You can probably catch them year-round in that brush.”

“That’d be a big help.”

There were a lot of ways he could help here, but he kept that thought to himself for now.

Dinner was quiet, but for once he didn’t feel uncomfortable at a set table. Bill didn’t say much, but Melisande asked Caleb about California. Then she told stories about Louisiana. She missed the heat, she said, but not much else.

Caleb helped clear the plates, and the women washed the dishes while Bill wiped the table down. It seemed only a few minutes passed before Bill and Melisande excused themselves and left Caleb and Jessica alone.

“They stay together out there,” Jess explained as she untied her apron and took it off.

“They seem content.”

“I think so. It’s been good to have them here. Safe.”

“You were alone before?” he pressed.

“Yes.” Her voice had gone soft like she didn’t want to talk about it.

“But how did you end up here, in this house all by yourself? You never did say.”

She smoothed a careful hand over her hair, her eyes locked on a spot past his shoulder. “It was the deal. This house for my innocence.”

“Who was it, Jess? I’ll kill him if you like. Whoever he is, he deserves it.”

Her face had been flushed, but now it went pale. “It doesn’t matter. I took the deal. I thought I’d sell the house and move on, and no one would ever know. Not even you. But then…someone heard something. Word spread. And no one will buy a whorehouse for their family. There’s not enough good soil here to make the shame worthwhile.”

“Someone will buy it,” he said, but his mind was working, trying to remember who’d owned this place before. He could ask around town, see who’d farmed this land, who’d sold it. Whoever it was must be the man. And then Caleb would…do what? Truly kill him? Beat him to a pulp, at least? Spit on his broken body?

“Have you seen your mother since you came back?” Jessica asked.

“No. I rode straight here. I’m not sure if I’ll make myself known or not.”

She nodded and twisted her hands into her skirt, and Caleb was afraid she was about to say good-bye. “You want me to show you how to set a snare?” he asked quickly. “We’ve got an hour of sunlight left.”

“No, I—”

“It’s simple. Won’t take long to teach you.”

“Maybe in the morning,” she whispered.

“The morning?” He wished he could pull back the hopeful note in his voice, but it was there, bright and truthful between them.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know if I should ask you to stay.”

He reached slowly forward and took one of her hands. “Please. Please let me stay. For tonight, at least. Let me…” His throat tightened, and he wasn’t sure what he’d meant to say anyway.
Let me take those other nights back. Let me show you something kinder.

But in the end, she nodded, and he didn’t have to say anything more.

“I’ll check on the cow, then,” he offered. “Make sure she’s settled for the night.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to. Bill will take care of it.”

“I’d like to, and I need to see to my horse, anyway.”

“All right. I’ll put up those beans Melisande and I canned today. I think they’re cool enough.”

It felt so damn simple. Like this was their place. Their farm. And tonight he’d lie beside her and make her his. His hands shook as he closed the kitchen door behind him. By the time he got back to the house, the sun was setting, a cool breeze sliding through the open windows. The dim front rooms greeted him with silence, and he found the kitchen empty as well.

Caleb moved up the stairs, his heart beating harder. Would she welcome him, or had he misinterpreted the invitation? If she’d made up the other bedroom for him, he’d stay there, but he had a feeling he’d sleep as poorly as he had on the trail.

But no, that wasn’t what Jessica wanted either. He found her in the bedroom, already in her shift, arms lifted to free the pins from her hair. She blushed when she caught him watching.

“There’s whiskey,” she said, dipping her chin toward the bottle on top of the dresser.

He shook his head. “I’m already beat. It was a long ride back.”

Her hair fell free, a long twist down her back. He knew it’d be warm if he touched it. “I was sure I’d never see you again,” she said as she picked up the brush.

Caleb watched the bristles slide through her hair, and love and lust stirred inside him, swelling his cock and his heart. She looked so pure. So pretty. Brushing her hair as she must have done a thousand times before. Letting him see that bit of her as if he hadn’t hurt her.

It terrified him that he could still feel this way for her, but it awed him, as well, because maybe their love was bigger than everything else. Bigger than hurt and jealousy and stupid decisions. It was just…
right
.

He was more certain of that than ever as he watched her ready herself for bed.

“Need help with your boots?” she asked.

“No, I never did find anyone to help on the trail.”

She laughed at his meager joke, and the sound stole his strength as he stripped out of his shirt and toed off his boots. And then he saw the flowers, wilted and half-broken, but sitting in a jar by the window. She’d saved them after all. His heart thumped with pain.

The twilight lit half her body and threw the other into shadow. When she moved to the end of the bed and eased her shift over her head, her curves were blue and smooth. She looked strangely untouchable for a woman getting into bed, but then she flashed him a nervous smile.

He was already so hard that it took a few tries to get the buttons of his trousers free. Following her lead, he stripped down to nothing, then slid beneath the sheets after her. The cotton was crisp and cool, a contrast to the warm skin of her arm when she brushed against him. She smelled of a more delicate soap than the kind she’d lent him.

“I didn’t know if you’d let me stay,” he said into the deepening dark.

“If it’s the last time I see you…” She didn’t finish the thought.

Caleb rose above her, sliding his hand along her neck, her jaw. “I don’t want it to be the last anything. I want it to be the first.”

“It’s far too late for that, Caleb.”

“It’s not. You never had a first time. Not really. All you’ve ever had were transactions.”

Her hand covered his and pressed his palm tight to her cheek. “There’s no taking any of that back.”

“No, but we can make something new. A real first time. No one hurting you, not even me.”

“Caleb…” she murmured. She shook her head in denial. He saw the glint of moisture on her cheek before he felt wet on his fingers.

“Shh,” he whispered, “I won’t hurt you, Jess, I promise.”

His mouth met hers, and she opened for him immediately, her tongue brushing sweetly against his. He kissed her slowly, carefully, learning the feel of her and what rhythm made her sigh into his mouth.

He trailed his fingers down her neck, then traced the line of her collarbone. Her skin was impossibly fine. He wondered that he was even the same animal as her, she felt so different.

His fingers found the outer curve of her breast. Goose bumps rose beneath his touch as he cupped her in his hand. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the world.” He lifted his head to look at her. It was nearly full dark now, but he could see his darkness against her, and the tight circle of her nipple.

Her breath hitched when he dragged his thumb over that nub. “Do you know how often I fantasized about this through the years, Jess? I dreamed of it.”

“I…I did too.”

That surprised him. “Did you?”

“Yes. I’d lie in bed at night and slide my hands over my nightgown, and I’d wonder what it would be like to be your wife. I wondered if you’d be disappointed at how straight I was beneath my stays.”

His huff of laughter hurt his heart. “Never. Everything about you amazes me.”

“Don’t say that,” she whispered.

“It’s true. It’s still true. And you must be meant to be just as you are. The opposite of me.” He slid her hand from his shoulder and down his chest. Her fingers spread out over his heart, and he could feel the beat of his pulse against her palm. “I must feel rough and hard to you.”

“A little,” she agreed. “But so warm. You feel…comforting.”

His throat went thick at that. That she could still find his body comforting after what he’d done. He ducked his head to kiss her breast. Her hand slid to his back, and when his mouth found her nipple, her nails dug into him. He licked her gently at first, then pressed his tongue tighter, sucking at her.

She moaned for him, and then she was gasping, one of her knees rising to lie along his thigh. His cock brushed her hip, and he couldn’t help but push against her, the pleasure too intense to resist.

He moved his hand down, aware of the way her stomach jumped in shock, and then he felt the softness of her hair, the spring of it under his trembling fingers. Strange that his own nakedness was crude to him, his body just a tool and an ugly one at that. But with Jess it was all stunning. Skin and hair and sex like something created to make the world more lovely.

He pressed his whole hand to her, holding her for a moment. His finger settled against deeper heat. He slipped it between her folds, his breath a growl as he felt her wetness.

When he moved his finger up, she gasped, so he did it again and again, his cock throbbing at how slick she was, how her legs parted for him. His body screamed for that feeling around him, squeezing his cock.

He clenched his eyes shut and tried to breathe deeply. Not yet.

“Caleb,” she moaned, her hips tipping toward him. He slid a leg over hers, spreading her wider.

“Is that good?” he whispered.

“Yes!” Her breath came faster, as if she were racing toward something. Caleb could feel his cock growing slick against her skin, sliding between his belly and her hip, and he groaned in pained torment.