Promises: Promises Prevail Part 38

"They say she is too small to bear you sons."

Cougar's smile faded and his expression grew serious. "Then I'll find my children elsewhere."

"Another wife would be an easier solution," Gray countered with irrefutable logic.

"So you would think," Cougar smiled, his face hidden from view as he looked toward his wife. "But I've always been contrary."

"Now that," Asa agreed, "is the truth."

Gray turned to Clint and said, "Your woman cannot bear you children."

"No."

"That's not for sure, Clint," Doc countered.

"I've made my peace with it." He shrugged and the smile came from inside. "Besides, I can't see Jenna being happy with another woman under foot."

"You will not take another wife because it would hurt her?" Gray asked, surprise lifting his tone.

"That, and I don't want another wife."

He frowned. "Many white men have other women.""What other men do is neither here nor there."

"You have grown soft." The kid scowled as if keeping his word to Jenna were a crime.

"So it's been said."

"I will never grow soft." Gray stared into the night, his thin, handsome face hardening to a razor edge of determination.

Clint squeezed his shoulders. "You may resent me for saying this, but I hope you're wrong."

"Amen to that," Asa murmured while Doc and Cougar nodded.

Clint wasn't leaving his son's future up to G.o.d. If he had anything to say about it-and he intended to have a lot to say-his son would never grow up to know aching emptiness that could never be filled. That hollow echo in a man's soul that came from too much purpose, too much killing. No matter how good the reason the boy thought he had.* * * * *

It was late when they pulled up in front of their home. The temperature dropped with every turn of the buggy's wheels. Clint took his rifle out of his lap and jumped down. Ice crunched under his feet, and his breath frosted in the lantern light. As he held out his hand, his black eyes glittered with that strange emotion that had been there since the disaster in the mercantile.

Jenna placed her palm in his. His fingers closed around hers, their strength banked. She loved the way he touched her. Controlled, but with the promise of all the pa.s.sion she could handle. Which was becoming more and more as each day pa.s.sed.

"I wish Bri and Gray had come home with us," she said as he swung her down.

"And deprive Dorothy of a chance to mother them?"

he asked, his voice neutral and his eyes hidden by the shadow of his hat.

"She's a nice woman."

"The best." His hands lingered on her waist as she got her balance. It was so dark she couldn't see the hem of her cloak."She's in her glory with two kids to fuss over," he added as he grabbed his rifle and High Stepper's reins.

"Besides, it'll give us time to set up a room for Gray so he'll have a place here, and feel wanted."

"You don't think he'll take Bri and run do you?"

"If I did, I wouldn't have left them there."

She rubbed her arms and stomped her feet against the seeping cold.

"He's just so angry..." She bit her lip, remembering the boy's eyes, their haunted depths. "So alone."

"Give him time Jenna, and he'll be fine. Dorothy knows how to handle kids."

Jenna knew Dorothy could handle Bri, but Gray Fox Searching was a whole different story.

"So you think Gray will be okay?"

"His stomach's full," Clint answered. "He's got a warm bed to lie in, and his sister's near." He started moving. She moved with him, but the lantern cast shadows she couldn't see into and she fell behind.

"Watch, there's a hole right there." He stopped so suddenly that she almost ran into him. His arm slid around her waist, the reins dangling down the side of her cloak as he pulled her up against him. His grip on her waist tightened to the point that it didn't matter if she saw the hole or not. Clint wouldn't let her fall.The trust she felt in his company was novel. In her youth she'd dreamed of a hero who'd like her for herself, take the good with the bad, and stand by her. With maturity, she'd accepted a good man was one who didn't use his wife as a resting place for his fist, and now Clint was causing her to reevaluate her a.s.sessments once again, taking her back to the dreams of a child. Was it any wonder that she waffled between caution and hope when it came to him?

"Stay there." He led her to the right of the door, his hand staying at her hip until he was sure she was steady.

Just another of the considerations she was learning to handle. Worse yet, expect.

"Okay."

The wagon creaked as he opened the door and led the horse and buggy through. She was alone in the dark for a heart-stopping moment and then he was there, his hand touching her arm, making her jump.

"Easy, Suns.h.i.+ne. I'm right here."

It was pathetic, but ever since that night she couldn't stand the dark and the memories that stalked it. As if he sensed her need, his big, capable hand slid up her arm and across her back, pulling her into him.

"I've got you, Jenna."

"Hold me for a minute?" She felt his start. "I'm sorry." She pulled back. She got as far as his palm."That's the first time you've asked me to hold you,"

he murmured, pulling her into his chest. He smelled of leather, smoke, and man.

"Is it?" It seemed like she had been asking him to touch her forever.

"Yes."

"I must seem like such a baby to you."

"I've already told you how I see you."

She snuggled into his embrace, grabbed her daring, and plunged forward. "Tell me again."

Beneath her cheek, his chest jerked. She'd surprised him. Good.

"Getting bold?" he asked, his drawl deeper, neutrality gone.

"I'm trying it out." No reason not to admit the truth.

"I like it." The last was said against her hair. His lips moved across her head in a gentle caress. "Are you scared, Jenna?"

She shook her head. He would have left it there, but she couldn't. He never hid himself from her. He gave all he was, all the time. She liked how that made her feel.

She'd like to make him feel the same. She wondered if he could feel her blush through his coat as she pushed herself down the path she was setting.

"I just wanted to be close to you." She buried herface in his coat. Of all the unsophisticated ways to phrase things. She sounded scared and whiny when she wanted to sound strong and seductive. His hand came up to cup her head. His fingertips rasped her hot cheek.

"Are you blus.h.i.+ng?"

"Could you pretend not to notice?"

"Depends on why."

"I don't want to be someone you feel sorry for."

His fingers stilled. "What makes you think I feel sorry for you?"

"Please don't treat me like I'm stupid."

"I wasn't aware that I was."

"You're always fussing over me."

"That's because you're sweet to spoil." His big body leaned into her. She leaned back against the barn wall, bearing his weight and his expectations.

"I am?"

"Yeah. I've never had a wife before. I find I like making you smile." He kissed her ear as his hair fell against her.

"Sigh," he whispered against the side of her neck. He nibbled on the cord beneath her ear. She didn't contain her groan as s.h.i.+vers raced down her spine and his smile spread.

"Moan." He took her earlobe between his teeth andbit lightly. "Moan for me some more, baby."

She did, helpless to do otherwise as he sucked at the flesh under his mouth, pulling her hips into his.

She licked her lips, swallowed twice, and asked him, "Why?"

Again that start. She felt his smile spread against her neck. "I like you bold, and to answer your question, because it makes me hard."

She tucked her chin, trying to see his face, but it was too dark, and his hat brim was in her way. But his lips were hot on her neck, scorching her with the intensity of his want.

"I'm glad you like me." He drew back and his gaze was as unfathomable as the night around them. She clutched at his coat. "I mean the way I look. I'm glad you find me attractive."

"Good." His smile was slow coming, but when it did, it was beautiful. She wanted to taste his smile, experience his pleasure. See herself through his senses.

She tugged on his lapel.

"What?"

"Bend down."

He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at her. "Why?"

"I want to kiss you." Her voice wasn't nearly as confident as she wanted. Her cheeks burned so hot thatshe thought her tongue would burn off.

"What's wrong, Jenna?" His eyes narrowed. He didn't bend down and his smile disappeared.

"Nothing." She ducked her head, embarra.s.sment eating her alive. Her breath rose up to mist her face in a mockery of her hopes. He tipped her chin up. His finger held her in place for his scrutiny.

"You don't have to be something you're not for me. If you want or need something, just ask."

"Who says I'm being something I'm not?" she muttered.

The arch of his brow said more than enough. He could never understand if she didn't tell him. She braced her fingers on his chest, flattening the tips one by one against the soft leather of his coat as she took a slow, deep breath.

"My whole life men have been telling me I'm sinful."

His chest expanded under her hands as he took a breath to argue. She shook her head, and focused on the pale blur of the collar of his shearling coat. "Don't say anything, please." She risked a quick glance. "Just let me get this out."

His chest lowered as he released a slow breath. She heard the rustle and saw the sway of his hair as he nodded.

"That when I look at a man, I tempt him to sin. Thatmy body is the Devil's playground and that when men look at me, I tempt them to amoral thoughts and acts.

That the Devil acts through me."

She'd never understood how, but she'd been beaten black and blue more times than she could count for those thoughts in men's heads.

"Suns.h.i.+ne..."

She shook her head, not looking at him. He didn't say anything more, just pulled her closer, as if his big arms could shelter her from her memories. "You don't see me like that."

"h.e.l.l, no."

"You like me." His hand stroked over her hair, sliding into the contained strands.

"Yes."

"I mean the way you feel with me."

"That, too." His hand pulled away and her hair fell down her back.

"I'm not used to it."

"I gathered that."