This Calder Range (Calder Saga 1)

“Do you know you snore?” Benteen teased.

“I don’t!” She was aghast at the thought, her fingers tightly clutching the bedcovers to her breastbone.

“Yes, you do. And very prettily, too.” He leaned over and rubbed his mouth over her lips. Their instinctive response almost made him forget the late hour. Grudgingly he drew back. His control was tested when he saw the hesitant desire flicker in her eyes. He had to turn away or give in to the urge to erase the hesitancy. “It’s time to get up, so we can be on our way.”

When he swung out of bed, Lorna’s head turned on the pillow so she could look at him, a little disappointed that he hadn’t wanted to make love to her again. For a brief second she had forgotten Benteen was as naked as he was, but the sight of him was a sharp reminder. Her first impulse was to look quickly in the opposite direction, but her curiosity was stronger. It made her feel a little bit wicked to run her gaze over his tapered back and the hard, lean flanks of his hips. Benteen didn’t bother with the privacies of the dressing room, pulling his clothes on right there in the bedroom. Not his wedding suit, but tough, durable workclothes.

Benteen turned to glance at the bed as he tucked his shirt inside the close-fitting denim pants. “Get out of the bed and get dressed.” It was more prompting than an order.

“Do we have to leave this morning?” Lorna asked. “Can’t we wait one more day?”

He came back to the bed and leaned down to place a hand on either side of her. “If I thought we could wait one more day, I’d be in bed with you now.” His look seemed able to see her body beneath the covers, and Lorna felt that stirring of passion within her. “But we can’t hold the herd on that ground any longer. They’re out of graze, and they have to be moved.”

“But just one day …” she began, some female instinct telling her that he could be tempted the way Adam had been in the Bible.

“No.” It was a decisive answer, followed by decisive action as Benteen slipped his hands under her shoulders and lifted her out of bed. “The plans are set and the boys have their orders to have the cattle ready to move out no later than midmorning.” Once she was standing naked in front of him, his hands wandered absently over her ribs and waist. “I’ll be leaving as soon as I’ve shaved and cleaned up. If you’re coming with me, you’d better get a move on.”

One look at the interest flickering in his otherwise determined features, and Lorna wasn’t at all intimidated by his idle threat that he would consider leaving her behind. Before it could take hold, he was letting her go, to turn abruptly away.

“Get your clothes on,” Benteen ordered gruffly.

And Lorna had her first hint of how easily aroused a man could be by a woman’s form. The thought barely had time to register before it was crowded out by more immediate considerations that included getting packed and dressed for the journey.

After a quick breakfast in the hotel’s dining room, they went by the Pearce home so Lorna could see her parents one last time before they left. A restless part of Benteen made him impatient at the delay, but for Lorna’s sake he controlled it, aware that he couldn’t expect her to leave home without a farewell parting from her family. But when it threatened to stretch into a lengthy and painful good-bye, he stepped in.

“Lorna, we have to go.” His hand gripped her elbow, his voice firm.

“Can’t we stay a little longer?” She turned to him, the tears now starting to fall steadily.

“No.” Benteen didn’t try to temper his refusal, although the tears made it difficult.

When she saw that her appeal wasn’t swaying him, she turned back to hug her mother tightly. Mrs. Pearce was crying as well, more emotional than Benteen had ever seen her. There was even a sheen of dampness in her father’s eyes as Arthur Pearce stepped forward to clasp Benteen’s hand in both of his.

“You take good care of my little girl.” There was a stiffness to the man’s smile and the rigid set of his chin.

“I will, sir.” Benteen pretended not to notice the huskiness in the man’s voice.

Then Lorna was pulling out of her mother’s arms and looking tearfully at her father. “Oh, Daddy,” she sobbed, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. For a minute Arthur Pearce hid his face in her dark hair and hugged her close.

“You be good, now, ya hear?” It was a gruff admonition to mask his pain.

“I’ll miss you so much, Daddy,” Lorna declared in a sobbing voice.

Benteen knew there wasn’t any easy way to end this. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pearce,” he intruded firmly on the emotional scene. There was a reluctant nod of understanding as Arthur Pearce tried to set his daughter away from him. Taking her by the shoulders, Benteen pulled her the rest of the way back. Her hands remained extended, reaching involuntarily toward her parents. “It’s time, Lorna.”

“I …” But the words were choked off as she turned quickly away from the sight of her mother crying and the pained look on her father’s face. She practically ran toward the wagon, covering her mouth to hold back the sobs trembling through her whole body.

Grimly Benteen helped her climb up to the wagon seat and followed her up. It hurt him to look at her anguished, tear-filled face, so he kept his eyes averted. She was barely seated and she was already turning to gaze longingly at her parents. The reins to the horse team were wrapped around the brake handle. Benteen unwound them.

“Good-bye!”

“Good-bye!”

“Don’t forget to write!”

“We’ll miss you!”

“Good-bye!”