Chapter 3

2159 Words
3 CHANCE "Let's get this done?" Rose repeated, her voice full of sarcasm and surprise. The little hellcat was just getting started. I stifled a grin, knowing it would only build her ire to a fevered pitch if she saw it, but I loved her spirit. That spirit, however, put her into a heap of trouble. I didn't know if I wanted to strangle her or kiss her. The stupid, beautiful woman had no sense, venturing alone at night. Of course, a man would grab her and want to have his way with her. I wanted to. I'd wanted to for far longer than I should have, but I'd bided my time. At least my intentions were honorable. I hadn't even touched her until today. I’d kept my distance, afraid I'd do something rash like kiss her if she were within reach. Earlier, when she'd hurt her thumb, all I wanted to do was take her hurt away; I didn't even think about my actions until I had the soft tip of her thumb in my mouth. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever done. Seeing the look of surprise and...desire flare in her eyes had my resolution to be patient crumbling. I was resolute now in another way. I would have her; I would make her mine. I would keep her safe. If I could only get her to agree to the damn marriage then I could ensure that. Until then, she would go about wild and untamed, a danger to herself. "You didn't even ask me!" she shouted. She was so small next to me, petite and dainty, but she was far from it. Feisty, spirited, uninhibited would be more apt. "You didn't stick around the ranch long enough for me to do so," I countered. The sheriff chuckled and mumbled something about a hotheaded couple, but we ignored him. She looked taken aback, as if she hadn't known I would ask her. Perhaps I'd been too successful in hiding my interest. "I...I didn't know," she replied, her voice soft. "Of course, you didn't. You’re too young." "I'm nineteen!" She paced around in a circle and I watched her, enjoying the sight of her in a skirt and blouse—unusual attire for her. Her hair had been in a bun at the nape of her neck but the pins had fallen out, leaving the curly blond locks wild down her back. She tucked some wayward strands behind her ear absently. I'd never seen it unbound, for it was always tucked beneath her hat or in a thick plait down her back. The sight of it long and free-flowing was something intimate for only a spouse to see. I saw it as a sign that she was to be mine. It made me want to tangle my fingers in it, wrap the tresses around my hand and tilt her head back so I could kiss her. Claim her mouth and very soon, claim her body. "I came to Clayton to ask you, but then when I found you with that man, I had to save you from getting yourself hurt." "You followed me." She hadn't stated it as a question. I ran my hand through my hair, and then stopped her pacing with a hand on her biceps so she'd look at me. "I've always followed you, Rose. Always will." "But you said—" She bit her bottom lip. I frowned. "Said what?" "Earlier, when I was mending fences, you said I didn't belong on the ranch anymore." Shaking my head, I slowly pulled her closer. "No, you said you didn't belong on the ranch anymore, and I agreed." "Same difference," she muttered, not meeting my eye anymore. "Then why didn't you let me go?" "You don't belong on the Lenox ranch anymore, kitten. You're being stifled there. You know it and I can see it. I've seen it for a stretch now, but earlier, I knew you'd decided it was time to move on. You belong with me on the Goodman spread. As a Goodman, Rose Goodman." Her green eyes widened. "You mean...I thought—" I put my finger over lips. "You thought wrong." The sheriff cleared his throat. "This is touching and all, but are you needing my services or not?" "Well?" I asked. "Rose Lenox, will you marry me?" "Why are we riding back to your ranch when we could stay at the boarding house?" Rose asked. It was late, well past midnight, but the moon had risen and our path was bright. The ride was only an hour to the ranch house, but it seemed to be interminable. With the vows said, the chaste kiss shared, and the sheriff once again reading his book, I was in a hurry to get my wife home. She sat sideways upon my lap, her ass shifting with the motion of the horse making my mind distracted and my c**k very eager. The only thing preventing me from claiming her was the distance from our current location and my bed. "I don't want to have an audience for our wedding night." I shifted, my c**k aching and uncomfortable in my pants. "Audience? I had my own room." The corner of my mouth ticked up at her innocence. "I'm going to make you scream your pleasure, kitten, and I guarantee everyone would have heard." "Oh," she murmured, shifting in my lap some more. She was secure within my hold, my arms around her as I held the reins, her head tucked beneath my chin. Her scent was soft and familiar to me, but having her so close had the floral scent surround me. Somehow, she smelled just like her name. All of her adopted sisters were named after flowers and Rose wasn't even the oldest. Marigold was. Yet Rose was the first to marry. "You tricked me, you know," she said as we climbed a small ridge. There were mountains in the distance to the west, but it was not bright enough to discern them. "Tricked you?" I may have followed her to Clayton, even applied a little coercion to wed, but she wanted the union as much as I. She just hadn't had time to consider and accept it. Femininity was not something she flaunted. If a man saw past her tomboyish ways and came calling or expressed the slightest interest, Rose directed him toward one of her sisters. She wore pants and usually had pieces of hay caught in her hair. I was the only man she'd allowed into her life, the only man she told her secrets to. The only man who wanted her just as she was, all prickly exterior hiding a most passionate interior, was me. I'd been ready since the day she turned eighteen. Hell, even then I’d waited another seventeen months. ‘Tricked’ would not be the word I'd use. ‘Patient,’ just or ‘ready’ would all be more apt. "You told that awful man I was your wife. You didn't need to do that and now look at me." I couldn't see her well from my position, but I could feel her. Smell her. Ache for her. Her hips were slim, yet I could feel her lush curves nonetheless. "You let yourself fall victim to a lecherous man with no moral leanings," I countered. I wouldn't kowtow to her. She was perturbed that we'd wed, but she was sore about something else, and it wasn't that I'd told the bastard a lie. I just had to be patient enough to find out what it was, which was going to be a hard task. My patience with her was at an end. "This wasn't my plan, Chance. You took away my plan!" She waved her hands as she spoke, bumping into my arms. Ah, now we were at the crux of her frustrations. "I took away your plans? You ran away, like a child!" I took a breath. "What, pray tell, were your plans?" I'd listened to her like this for years. Heard her woes since she was a little thing. A pet chicken that had ended up in a soup pot. A skinned knee falling from a tree. A boy from town who'd dipped her braid in ink. A rope swing that was used to cross a creek instead of a bridge. An interest in running her own ranch. As time went on, her problems and plans changed, from simple to sophisticated, from childlike to mature. All the while I'd listened without offering any advice, or help. Until today. While she lived in a loving home, it was crowded, and the other members of the female household frowned on what they considered Rose’s manly pursuits. Her ideas were stifled. She was stifled, but she'd never done anything reckless enough to endanger herself before. "I was going to take the next stage out of town. East or west, it didn't matter. I just needed to be gone." The idea that she would venture alone without a plan or direction had my palm twitching. She needed to be taken in hand before she hurt herself and I wasn't there to save her. "With just the clothes on your back? How much money do you have?" "Fifty-six dollars." I ran my chin back and forth gently over the top of her head, enjoying the silky feel of her hair. The action may have seemed gentle and comforting to Rose, but I did it as a way to stall my words, to allow me a moment to get my frustration to a manageable level so I could speak with a calm voice. "The man at the saloon, I'm guessing he was offering you aid in your adventure?" I asked, my tone quite sarcastic. The very idea of that man's hands on her had my jaw clenching. "He was an...unexpected impediment." I couldn't help but grunt at that understatement. "I know what you're thinking," she replied. No, I doubted she did, for my thoughts veered to her either over my knee with her ass turning nice and pink or naked and her mouth occupied around my c**k. "Oh?" My voice had a noticeable growl to it. "That I was impetuous." "I have been aware of that for quite some time," I countered dryly. Nothing she'd said about her foray into freedom told me to the contrary. "Are you remotely aware of the things he was going to do to you?" "I live with two former brothel owners," she countered, as if this made her an expert. "Those things he was going to take belong to me, Rose. Me! Your maidenhead is mine. Your body is mine!" She squirmed against my hold. "Let me go, Chance." Sitting sideways as she was, she dexterously worked her way out from the circle of my arms and slid off the horse. Any other woman would have landed unceremoniously on her ass, but Rose was an accomplished equestrian and landed on her feet readily enough and walked off, arms folded over her chest. I halted the motion of the horse and dismounted, letting the reins drop so the animal could eat the tall grass. Rose was as prickly as the flower bearing her name. I had to learn not to goad her, especially when she was riled. I wanted her beneath me, not walking away. I needed to know, however, what her intentions were. Leaving town without a plan indicated desperation over forethought. Now that she was mine, this impetuousness would be curbed, her recklessness would be curtailed, or she would be punished. I could not have her hurt. And so I was in a conundrum. She needed a gentle touch while at the same time a firm, guiding hand. I had to learn to curb her reckless ways while allowing her to bloom. She needed to bend in her plans, yet still flourish. All she had to do was let go and I'd catch her. She just didn't understand. It was going to be a battle of wills, but in the interim, there was one way we could be equals and I would show her readily enough. Once I got my hands on her.... "Rose," I called. "You’re my wife now. I'll never let you go." "I wanted to be free!" She paused, her shape amorphous and ghostly beneath the moonlight. "Free? Free? Alone and vulnerable is not free! You almost paid the price tonight with that bastard." "I was going to run my own ranch somewhere. Statehood's coming and I want to be known as having the best one in all of Montana." "By yourself? Even on the Lenox land you have Big Ed to help." I spoke to her back and waited for her to turn. One word and I'd have her spinning to face me, yet she'd be full of spit and vinegar. I had to proceed carefully, slowly, as if she were a mare ready to breed: skittish yet excited, nervous yet feisty. "I don't need any help." Her words were clear, but her conviction was waning. "I'm good at running a ranch." "With no land? No stock? You're a Goodman now and you'll help me run mine. Ours. You don't have to go it alone, kitten." She spun around, walked up to me and poked me in the chest. "I am not your kitten."
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