Intimate Strangers (Eclipse Heat Book 2) (21 page)

He pulled her upright, seated backwards on his thighs, cupping her breasts and kneading the plump flesh. His cock pulsed deep inside her and she came again as he coated the walls of her pussy with his seed. Still connected, he hauled them both to the bed and curled around her back, holding her tight against his frame. “Sleep with me inside you, sweetheart. I need to be part of you tonight.”

He fell asleep that way, their sweaty skin glued together like one flesh. When he woke in the morning she was curled in his arms, but sometime during the hours in between, she’d donned her nightgown.

* * * * *

Ambrose didn’t want to give too much credit to lust but damned if things didn’t get better for everyone after that night. Good as her word, Roberta started sewing. The mending that Lucy had done for them had been appreciated, but it was soon clear that Roberta had a fine hand when it came to making clothes.

First she pinned and fitted three of those fancy dresses from Lucy’s former days, turning them into demure finery for Brody. His daughter, looking like a princess, suddenly seemed a lot more grown-up than she had a week before.

The next week, Roberta and Lucy fitted shirts and sewed one for Hamilton, one for Alex, and one for him. They were white dress shirts that the Quince men had few occasions to wear, but when Lucy pointedly took the measuring tape away from Roberta, preventing her from feeling Ambrose’s shoulders, he grinned and declared he couldn’t wait to show off his new shirt.

Finally, they’d cut down two dresses, one for each of them. It was in the third week when the women appeared at the evening meal in their new duds, right after which Hamilton started complaining about Lucy’s guest. Quincy’s brother was having a hard time avoiding Roberta.

At dinner, the women had pointedly discussed Hamilton’s cabin and the hot springs. Roberta seemed determined that she was going to get a look at it, with Hamilton as her guide. Hamilton seemed as terrified as a rabbit with a fox outside its burrow. Ambrose hid his grin. For once his
I-know-everything-about-women
brother was without a plan and on the run.

“Ambrose, when is that female moving on?” It wasn’t the first time Hamilton had mentioned that he thought Roberta had outstayed her welcome.

Since going back to cold tinned beans after eating Lucy’s cooking would be a hardship, Hamilton was eager for Roberta to move on. He came in for meals but he avoided the house as though it carried the plague the rest of the time.

On the other hand, the house was sparkling, the meals were tasty, the women were all dressed out looking fine and his wife seemed content. Watching Lucy lose her haunted expression and sad eyes, Ambrose wasn’t too sure he wanted Roberta to leave.

The house reverberated with discussions of color and form and texture. The younger Lucy had loved to dress in finery. Roberta brought that interest back to life. Lucy looked happy pawing over the dresses stacked on the dining room table so that in Roberta’s words, “all of that fine cloth can be put to good use.” Roberta had tapped into Lucy’s newfound practical nature.

On the way to the kitchen one morning, Alex grabbed up a pink swatch of silk lying on a chair and held it to his chin, “What do you think, Uncle Hamilton?” he snickered. “Is this color right for me?”

Quicker than Hamilton could answer, Lucy had a piece of green muslin under her son’s chin, “I think you’ll be happier with this color, Alex. It matches your eyes.” Then she patted his cheek and turned away, smiling to herself.

Hamilton grimaced when the ladies could be heard wrangling about material and such, but it had an oddly soothing effect on Ambrose as he watched Lucy laying claim to cotton or muslin, speaking knowledgeably about how each piece could be used.

As Roberta worked her magic with Lucy’s wardrobe, Ambrose admired the new gowns that set off Lucy’s slender grace.

“You’re just a little bit of a thing, aren’t you, sweetheart? Those feed-sack dresses you used to wear were pretty well shapeless.”

When she replied dryly, “Thank you—I think,” he was left wondering if he’d said something wrong. Neither he nor Alex looked surprised anymore when they ran into each other loitering at the edge of the women’s glow.

He was openly eavesdropping on the women, standing at the kitchen door and listening to the talk in the sitting room. The females fluttered and giggled just like her town friends had in the past when she’d invited them to afternoon tea parties.  His heart ached realizing how wrong he’d been in forgetting their good times. He’d let the last six months before she disappeared when they’d been quarreling, taint all his memories.

Alex summed up his own feelings. “I made a mistake thinking Ma had run away. I was so mad she was gone I wasn’t thinking straight.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I didn’t treat her right when she first came home.”

“Son,” Ambrose informed Alex, “I’ve got my own belly-crawlin’ to do. You’re on your own.”

They both looked sharp when the back door swung open and one of the hands stepped inside. “’Scuse me, Quincy.” The cowboy grabbed the basket of cookies Lucy had baked for the bunkhouse crew and left grinning happily as he ate one.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Ambrose and his son both focused once more on the murmur of women’s laughter drifting from the sitting room.

Lucy settled deeper into the Double-Q routine.
How could I have been bored with such a life?
She avoided Ambrose each day but melted under his silent caresses each night.

Roberta was a constant source of fun. It was true she couldn’t cook and wasn’t much for cleaning either. But she could sew up a storm and in Lucy’s opinion no man married to her would ever be deprived of laughter.

When Lucy asked her intentions toward Hiram Potter, Roberta just wiggled her fingers and smiled. “Oh, Hiram is just a friend. He knows that.”

Lucy wasn’t so sure that Sheriff Potter would agree. She’d thought that the two had an understanding, but Roberta set her straight.

“I admit, after six months of being on my own in Buffalo Creek, Hiram started to look promising but as soon as you arrived, other options presented themselves.”

Lucy assumed she referred to their restaurant. “How is the Robin’s Nest getting along?”

“Well,” Roberta chuckled. “You know I can’t cook and Smiley, bless his heart, only knows two things…chili and chili.”

Lucy shouldn’t have felt such satisfaction, but it was good to know her cooking had been missed.

The kitchen, or as Ambrose had dubbed it,
the henhouse
,
was constantly filled with the sound of female chatter. Roberta, Brody and Lucy spent most of their time there. Roberta moved a sewing rocker into the room and sat talking nonstop while she stitched.

Brody divided her time between the two women, soaking up female companionship and any dubious wisdom that Roberta might possess. Lucy was amused at her friend’s charm and chatter ’til it became apparent her plans threatened the cocoon of security Lucy had wrapped herself in.

At an evening meal, Roberta presented her scheme. “I told Lucy, she’s got to be seen if she wants to establish her identity and prove herself to be Lucille McKenna Quince. Don’t you agree, Hamilton?”

Roberta invited the rest of the table to join her conversation but she watched Ambrose’s brother. Hamilton grunted noncommittally at the woman who tracked his every movement as though she were a badger after a clutch of hen eggs.

She beamed as though interpreting his harrumph as agreement. “I knew you’d take my meaning.” Then she turned her eyes to Ambrose. “That’s why I think we should all attend the monthly social and dance in Eclipse. Lucy needs to be seen with her family so that town folk will realize that the real Lucy Quince is home.”

Looking smugly determined she continued, “Besides, I want you to wear the new clothes I sewed for you and let it be known, discreetly, of course, that they’re my creations. I’m thinking Eclipse has enough women in town to support a good seamstress.”

That was a surprise to Lucy since she’d started thinking of Roberta as a permanent fixture on the Double-Q.

Roberta swept the others before her in her pursuit of entertainment and advertising. Brody and Alex were ecstatic at the thought of attending an Eclipse social event. Evidently, it had been a regular occurrence in the past.

Ambrose looked thoughtfully at Lucy before nodding at Roberta. “It might be fun to show off my family in the finery you sewed for us, Roberta. But it will be Lucy’s choice to go or stay.”

That was all he said but with his blessings, Roberta was like a runaway freight train, rolling over obstacles in her path. She trailed Lucy to the kitchen after supper and began nagging her to change her mind as soon as she saw Lucy’s militant look.

“I thought you wanted to free up the use of your money in the Eclipse Bank,” Roberta reminded her.

Lucy was torn between her need to resume the hunt for her would-be killers and her desire to hide in the ranch house on the Double-Q.

“If one of those jealous old biddies calls you Lucy Quince—the Eclipse Jezebel—grab hold of her arm and pull her over to that stubborn banker you told me about. Then he’ll know you’re you.” Her giggles had Lucy smiling along.

“I know I should go,” Lucy admitted. “But after your being shot down on the streets of Wichita in my stead, I’m not sure I feel ready to mix and mingle where my attackers might be.”

Roberta looked at her and disagreed sharply. “Oh, horsefeathers—what good is it to be young, beautiful, rich, and married to the second-handsomest man in this territory, if you have to stay holed-up and afraid the rest of your life? You might as well be in the kitchen of the Robin’s Nest or dead like someone wants.”

Alex carried a stack of plates through the door and heard Roberta’s last remark. “You don’t have to be afraid, Ma. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

Lucy realized she was twisting the fabric of her apron and smoothed it instead, looking at her son and then her husband, who had joined him in the doorway. “I’ll want my guns back. I’m not poking around in a rattlesnake’s nest without my weapons.”

* * * * *

It caused quite a stir the day of the social when Alex drove the buckboard into Eclipse with Brody and Roberta sitting next to him dressed in new finery guaranteed to show off Roberta’s expert needlework. Flanked by the Quince brothers—Ambrose on one side and Hamilton on the other—with six Double-Q ranch hands following behind, Lucy felt the stares of the locals when she rode her mare into town.

It was the first Eclipse social affair they’d attended since Lucy’s return—not counting the day she shot the hangman’s rope and saved Quincy’s life. Lucy’s shoulders itched and she straightened under the gaze of malevolent eyes.

She blinked away dust when the wind gusted down the street, emphasizing the silence that had descended as Eclipse citizens watched the Quince family ride in. A shiver of fear raced through her.

Seeing her shudder, Ambrose murmured, “Stay easy, sweetheart. We’ve got friends as well as enemies in this town.”

Lucy’s frown melted into a smile but she answered wryly, “If my first encounter with the town’s idea of entertainment is any indication, we’re riding into a nest of vipers.”

Friends in town or not, Ambrose had prepared for trouble, issuing orders before the family left the ranch, making it clear to the ranch hands that they were to stay sober and alert before, during and after the dance. Lucy, Brody and Roberta would be guarded at all times.

Knowing the town would be crowded and hotel rooms at a premium, Ham had ridden in the day before and reserved two for the night. Nothing had been left to chance.

Lucy was afraid, but tried to fall into Roberta’s lighthearted mood as they unpacked the dresses they’d brought to wear. Roberta hadn’t stinted on fashion, sewing pantalettes, chemises, petticoats and underskirts as elegant foundations for all the costumes. The women’s gowns had the addition of small bustles and required corsets. Lucy had protested the extravagant ensembles.

“Did you dress in linsey-woolsey before you disappeared?” Roberta had demanded, holding up a silk dress to prove her point. “You are establishing your identity as Lucille McKenna Quince. I will dress you accordingly.” No French couturier could have been more dramatically insistent.

Lucy studied the resultant creation in the mirror, admiring the way the material draped in the back and the matching beaded caplet demurely emphasized the swell of her breasts. She’d protested the corset, but now felt as if it was another layer of armor she wore beneath the pale-blue silk.

Roberta was equally splendid, wearing a sage-green costume that emphasized the auburn highlights in her hair. Brody grinned, pulling them to stand together in front of the mirror. She looked like a princess with her coronet of braids and pink dress. “We’re a bouquet of flowers,” she said smugly.

“We look like wealthy socialites who belong to a family of rich Texas ranchers,” Roberta corrected her and winked.

Remembering Roberta’s earlier comment, Lucy asked, “By the way, Roberta, I’ve been meaning to ask you. If, as you once said, Ambrose Quince is the second-best looking man around, who’s the number one handsomest fellow?”

Roberta grinned, “The number one handsomest man in Texas is the man I’m going to marry. I’ll know him when I see him.”

* * * * *

Roberta’s lighthearted banter didn’t erase Lucy’s heavy dread when later in the day she stood next to Ambrose studying the area’s best and worst citizens.
Is my would-be killer looking at me right now?

The land between Abilene and Eclipse didn’t offer up much in entertainment besides the town’s monthly social, bringing together the conflicting politics of sodbusters and ranchers and forcing the respectable citizens to mix with the people they considered less worthy.

Lucy could see the populace wasn’t sure which group the Quinces fit into. She looked around, anticipating the eruption of more than one fight before the evening ended as she viewed the discordant mass of people bumping shoulders in the packed room. Her derringer rested in a hidden side pocket and she slid her hand inside, gripping it even though Ambrose stayed close by, as did Brody and Alex.

Preening and in her element, Roberta advertised her skills as a seamstress, accepting compliments on her attire while Hamilton squired her from one group to another, purposefully targeting single ranchers.

Lucy nudged Ambrose and murmured, “If a husband can be considered gold, I think Roberta’s panning in a played-out stream.”

She was rewarded when Ambrose laughed, his eyes crinkling as his usual stern features relaxed in a smile. Lucy admired him possessively. Her husband was a handsome man. He’d shaved before the social, removing the usual dark stubble from tan skin she suddenly wanted to stroke.

He caught her gazing at him and his eyes drooped lower as he returned her stare, showing her his desire.

“Roberta is wrong,” she advised him, her pulse beating in her throat and her voice husky. She straightened his collar as an excuse to touch the back of her hand to his jaw.

He turned his head, savoring her caress and she felt the rumbled question when he growled, “Wrong about what?”

Lucy told him, “
You’re
the handsomest man in Texas.”

He gave her a teasing smile. “If I didn’t know you can shoot the eye out of an eagle in flight, I’d say you need spectacles. You trying to honey something out of me?” His words were playful and Lucy relaxed, beginning to have fun as she flirted with her husband and ignored the room full of people she didn’t know and didn’t want to know.

At that moment an old man walked up to them and jerked his belt off, handing it to Ambrose with a flourish. “Use that on her, boy. Beat the devil out of her if you want to keep her in her place.”

Ambrose growled, “Put your goddamn belt back on before I use it on you.”

Hamilton was suddenly there and caught the old man by the shoulders, walking him away before Ambrose could do him bodily harm. For Lucy, the incident ruined the evening just as it had begun to show promise.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Ambrose stood at her elbow, his chest pressed against her shoulder.

“This is a no-win visit,” she answered dryly. “If I act like the Lucy I must have been, I’ll be competing with Roberta for the attentions of the men at the dance.”

A crease appeared between his eyes as he squinted down at her.

Frustrated, she continued, “Apparently no one will be happy unless I confirm their belief that I’m the town hussy.” Suddenly aware her daughter could be damaged by her sorry reputation, Lucy said, “Brody, maybe you should stand with Roberta and Hamilton.”

Brody shook her head and lingered beside her parents, watching the entrance for a friend.

Scanning the room and waiting defensively for the next insult to be hurled, Lucy couldn’t help comparing the costumes Roberta had created to the dresses of the other women present. Nervously she commented, “Perhaps I’m overdressed for the occasion.”

Ambrose said, “Nope. You always dressed better than most.”

“Did that bother you?”

Trailing his gaze up the length of her pale-blue dress, he said gruffly, “You made me proud to walk beside you then, same as now.”

* * * * *

Apparently they passed some silent test of morality because gradually the vultures found other prey and circled elsewhere looking for fresh scandal.

Alex drifted to stand next to two other striplings about his age who were leaning against the wall watching a group of giggling girls. Lucy decided with pride he was the handsomest of the three boys. “He’s growing up so fast,” she said with a sigh.

Ambrose cocked his eyebrow at her and answered, “A man grows up fast in Texas, or he doesn’t grow up at all.”

When newcomers came through the door, Alex lost interest in his friends and focused on the people entering.

“Who’s that family that’s perked Alex’s interest?” Lucy asked Brody, who also looked poised for flight.

“That’s Lizzie Mack and her sister, Molly. They’re farmers and live on the other side of the county. Their mama died two years back.” As usual, Brody appeared to know everything about the new arrivals. She immediately headed toward the younger Mack sister, obviously eager to renew her acquaintance.

Ambrose quirked an eyebrow at Lucy and said humorously, “Kids have abandoned us.” He nodded toward a cluster of people at the end of the room. “I can blaze a trail to the punch bowl if you want something to drink.”