Lauri Robinson Page 3

  It took several deep breaths to chase the images far enough away that she could speak without growling.

  “I see,” she said. “Well, when he comes over tonight, we’ll invite him to supper tomorrow night.”

  “He’s not coming over tonight,” Hannah said.

  “What do you mean? You just said you’d see him after supper.”

  “Uh-uh, Jesse and I are to meet him at the hotel.”

  “I see,” Ester said again, actually seeing red.

  “I gotta go do my chores now. Afterward I’m going to start packing for the trip to Montana. All right?”

  “Yes, that’s fine,” she answered, moving toward the kitchen.

  “Ester,” Hannah said. “Can’t you come to Montana with us? I’m going to miss you an awful lot.”

  Shaking her head at the pain circling her heart, she said, “I’m going to miss you, too, but I can’t go to Montana.”

  “Why not?”

  Attempting to keep the tears in her eyes at bay, she pulled up a smile that hurt. “Because my house is here. My business is here. My friends and family are here.”

  “Brett has a house. A big one. And you could sew clothes there for people just like you do here.”

  “No. Brett’s house is a long way from town.”

  “He said its close enough for me to ride a horse to school.”

  “Well, it still wouldn’t work. You go on and do your chores now.” Ester walked into the kitchen, but only made it as far as the table. There she took a chair, let her aching heart consume her for a moment.

  She wondered about digging out the newspaper clippings safely hidden in her dresser drawer, showing them to Brett. Mrs. Wilson had given them to her. They spoke of the untamed wilds of Montana, where blizzards trapped entire communities and Indians still freely roamed, massacring families on a whim.

  The air she tried to breath lodged inside her lungs. This time Brett not only was putting himself in danger, but was putting the children in danger, too. Widow Wilson had said if Brett truly loved her, he wouldn’t expect her to move out there, and Ester believed the woman’s words now more than she had all those years ago.

  Brett’s delay in returning home upon receiving her letter about his parents proved the state was hazardous. He himself had said he couldn’t leave the cows in the dead of winter. Why couldn’t he understand there weren’t all those dangers here in Iowa?

  A sob built inside her throat.

  Cutter’s Corner was just lonely. And would be more so after Jess and Hannah left.

  * * *

  Brett sat at Frank Hespers’s kitchen table, laughing while reminiscing about childhood antics he hadn’t thought about for years. Frank’s wife, Faith, a tiny and friendly copper-haired woman from down near the Missouri border, had prepared a mess of fried chicken that tasted so good Brett had practically made a pig of himself, and now she set a piece of apple pie twice the size of his hand in front of him.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, hoping he wouldn’t sound rude. “But I promised my brother and sister I’d meet them over at the hotel for pie and ice cream, and I can’t disappoint them.”

  “You sure?” Frank asked, already forking pie into a mouth concealed amongst his red-tinted beard and mustache. “It’s good.”

  “It sure looks good,” Brett answered. “But, I’m sure. Actually, I better head out. I don’t want the kids waiting on me.”

  “How long are you in town for?” Faith asked.

  “Just until graduation,” he answered. “We’ll leave for Montana the next day.”

  “You’ll be here for the dance then. It’ll be in the town hall. The night of graduation. I’m sure Jess won’t want to miss it.”

  “Yeah,” Brett said, with a hint of guilt about taking the kids away from the only home they’d ever known. “Jess doesn’t want to miss it.” His siblings had never lived in Montana as he had, yet they seemed excited about going. Unlike someone else. He picked up his hat. “Thanks again, ma’am. It was the best fried chicken I ever ate.”

  “Well, you can thank Ester for that,” Faith said. “She gave me her recipe. The entire town knows it’s the best. The corn bread and pie, too. She’s also in charge of the dance. I swear this entire town would fall right off the map if she ever left.”

  The best Brett could do was nod. Thoughts of Ester were already stirring up his desires, but confirmation of how strongly she was tied to Cutter’s Corner turned his spine cold. “I’ll see you,” he said to Frank, pulling open the back door and making a quick exit.

  Ester had always been involved in things, and he wasn’t surprised to know she still was. Maybe someday he’d get used to it. Face the fact the woman he loved, loved giving out recipes and planning church socials and graduation dances more than she loved him.

  When she’d told him it was her or Montana, he’d responded, “It was him or Cutter’s Corner,” and her choice had gnawed at him for five years. After reading her letter, while grieving, he’d thought about sending her money, asking her to put Jesse and Hannah on a train to Montana, but he couldn’t. Not only for their safety, but because he had to see her, if just once more. A person just didn’t quit loving someone, but seeing her again had him questioning everything.

  It wasn’t simply Montana that drew him. It was doing what was in his soul. The only jobs around here were in the coal mines, and he’d never survive working underground day after day. He’d tried it, before his uncle had passed. Whereas the ranch, the wide-open spaces—he felt whole there, alive, except for Ester.

  Jesse and Hannah arrived at the hotel shortly after he did, and since Ester had made pie at home, of which she’d sent a piece to him, he and the kids took a walk through town. Stopped at the little empty lot, the cemetery, the schoolyard, and a few other places, making him realize it wasn’t the town he hated, for it was full of good people. It was competing against it for Ester’s love that galled him.

  The kids asked, but he insisted he couldn’t join them for supper the next couple of days. Yet when they begged him to be there on Sunday—they were celebrating Ester’s birthday—he caved in and agreed.

  Therefore, two days later, on Saturday afternoon, he was standing at the counter in the mercantile trying to figure out what to buy Ester for her birthday. He’d never been in this quandary before. In the past he’d always known what she wanted, what she’d like. There were several wrapped presents back at the ranch, things he’d bought her over the years. Whenever he’d seen something he thought she’d like, he’d bought it, always with the hope that someday they’d be together. That someday she’d love him enough to leave Cutter’s Corner.

  Today, the display of rings drew his attention, but he couldn’t buy her one of those.

  “Brett?”

  The shiver racing over his shoulders landed on his neck with the force of a well-pitched rock.

  “I haven’t seen you at the hotel, yet I know you’re still registered there,” Lenore said, reaching his side.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Getting ready to leave,” he answered. “I’ll be back later, Fred.”

  The owner nodded and Brett turned to leave, only to have Lenore catch his arm with her hand.

  “You don’t mind if I walk with you, do you?”

  “Yeah, Lenore, I do. I’ve got things to do.” He tugged his arm, but she held on with the strength of a snapping turtle. They were near the door, and when they stepped out, onto the boardwalk, with him still trying to break her hold, his heart dropped to his boots.

  The look on Ester’s face wasn’t jealousy this time. Her blue eyes were full of hurt as she spun around and started up the boardwalk.

  “Damn it, Lenore, let loose,” he growled, wrenching his arm from the woman’s hold.

  Within a few steps, he was beside Ester and took her arm.

  She tried to pull it away. “Will spending time in her bed change your mind?”

  “You know better than that,
” he said, twisting her around to look at him.

  The hurt was still on her face. Stricken, and tired of fighting with her, he leaned forward and gave her temple a little kiss. “You know I’ve never even looked at another girl.”

  She sniffled and bowed her head.

  “Never, ever.” Taking her arm, he turned and led her farther along the boardwalk. The need to really kiss her was too strong for him to keep standing in the middle of town.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Somewhere we can talk.”

  They’d taken no more than five steps when she pulled her arm from his hold, but just to wrap her hand around his elbow and hold on to it with her other hand, as well. The glimmer was back in her eyes, the one that told him she did love him, and she bumped his side as they walked.

  Grinning, he bumped her back.

  She bumped him again, and the past five years may as well never have happened. It was like just one of the many times they’d walked from his house to hers and back again.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said.

  “Not as much as I’ve missed you.”

  The smile on her face had him wondering if she was finally ready to admit how much she did love him. He’d never quite believed Cutter’s Corner was why she’d refused to leave with him years ago. Her explanation had been little more than to say if he loved her, he wouldn’t go. He did love her. Even more now, and he’d realized that the moment he’d seen her. He just had to figure out what was holding her back.

  He winked at her, and with a cute little giggle, she increased their speed. By the time they entered her yard, they were almost running.

  Opening the front door, he had every intention of leading her into the kitchen, where the furniture was hard and not suitable for what he truly wanted to do, but the perfect place to talk. However, as soon as the door shut behind them, he couldn’t help but steal a kiss.

  Just one.

  Which led to another.

  Brett attempted to stop, to pull his lips from hers for longer than the time it took to catch air, but at first it was impossible. Then, when he did, so he could fill his lungs fully, Ester went right on kissing him. Soon his shirt was completely unbuttoned, and she ran little kisses down, and nibbled the skin of, his neck, collarbone and chest. The sensations had fire throbbing through him like he’d never known.

  “I love kissing you, Brett,” she whispered. Her hands were beneath his shirt and she trailed her fingernails down his bare back. “But I need more.” Between kisses that had him tightening muscles to stay standing, she continued, “I’m aching harder than I ever did before.”

  He took her face between both hands, lifted it to kiss her mouth. “I know, darling, me, too.”

  “I know you have to leave again, go back to Montana, but…” Her long lashes fluttered shut for a moment. When they opened, she said, “I love you, Brett. I always have, and knowing you were in town the past few days, and not seeing you…” She shook her head slightly. “I can’t go on living without you. I think I forgot what living was the past five years.”

  His breath had locked in his lungs, probably because his heart was in his throat, blocking any air movement. The past few days, making up excuses not to see her, had been hell. Pure and simple hell. Worse in some ways than the past five years. “What are you saying, Ester?”

  Chapter Five

  If anything, standing there, looking into his face—the handsome, handsome face she forever wanted to look upon every day—had the desires boiling inside her hotter than ever. Her breasts ached for his touch, for his lips to kiss them as they had the other day. Actually, all of her wanted him—all of him—forever, yet she had to be honest. “I—I want us to come up with a compromise. I don’t know what that is, but I want to try. Something—anything.”

  His thumbs caressed her cheeks as he bent forward, kissed her in the way she loved, with his tongue twirling with hers until the fiery intensity inside her swirled so fast she grew weak with longing.

  “I know Jess is at work,” he said, “but where’s Hannah?”

  Ester could barely think. His hands had moved to her breasts, and the delight had her leaning her head back to arch her body forward and fully experience every touch. “At a friend’s. She’ll be home at suppertime.”

  With a swiftness that startled her, Brett scooped her into his arms, and when he spun, headed toward the stairway, the excitement rippling through her had Ester twisting to hold on even tighter and nibble on the side of his neck. She wanted to tell him how happy she was, how long she’d yearned for this, but a piece of her was afraid if she spoke he might change his mind again. For she hadn’t said she’d go with him; she hadn’t made that decision, yet. It was in her mind. As dreadful as losing him was, living without him was more frightful. She understood that fully now.

  In her room, Brett kissed her the entire time he was setting her down on the bed, and another thought, one she couldn’t keep in, occurred. They’d kissed for years, but little more. Whenever she’d wanted to go further, he’d been the one who kept things chaste.

  “Brett,” she whispered, unwinding her arms to scoot along the edge of the bed, making room for him. “I’m a bit nervous.”

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart,” he said, kneeling down to untie her shoes.

  He took off her socks next, and then, when she stood and tried to assist in removing her clothes, he brushed her hands aside. She closed her eyes, basked in the pleasure of his hands and the thrill of revealing herself to him.

  When at last, after he’d slowly, leisurely, divested her of every article—which had been as heavenly as it was torturous—she stood before him as bare as the day she’d been born. There was no shyness, not with the way his brown eyes cherished what they saw.

  “You’re so beautiful, Ester,” he said, running his fingertips down the lengths of her arms in such a way her skin blazed with delight and anticipation.

  “I’m glad you think so,” she said, pushing his shirt off his shoulders. “But, I’m feeling a little lonely.”

  He laughed, and she suddenly realized how much she’d missed that sound. It was like a melody, one that had her giggling along in tune. Shrugging out of his sleeves, he tossed the shirt aside, then scooped her up again and laid her on the bed.

  Stretched out beside her, he kissed her until every part of her body throbbed with excitement. A whimper formed deep in her throat as his hands, gentle and undemanding glided over her skin. “Brett…” She really had no idea what she wanted to say. Maybe she just wanted to make sure it was him. That this wasn’t a dream.

  “Aw, Ester, I’ve waited so many years for this,” he said, kissing his way down her neck.

  Satisfied it was real, and him, she sighed. “Me, too, Brett, me too.”

  The moist warmth of his mouth, taking over where his thumb had been teasing one of her nipples, had her moaning aloud in a way she’d never known she could, and from that moment on, things just kept getting better and better.

  The need inside her was primal, and her reactions instinctive. At one moment her hands buried themselves in his hair; at other moments, they held him to her. In an instant they’d fly over her head to grasp the rungs of the headboard in response to another utterly fascinating caress or kiss Brett pressed upon her body.

  Her hands were there now, grasping the headboard against the building restlessness that had her hips arching upward. Brett had spread her legs, teased her womanhood with his fingers, before his mouth had settled there. He kissed it briefly, softly, several times. Then he tasted her with his tongue and Ester squeezed the rungs on the headboard harder as she entered an unearthly delirium.

  At first she thought it was the ultimate, the most pleasure a person could experience, but as Brett continued, slid his hands beneath her to hold her tightly while tasting her fully and deeply, her breath rattled in her lungs and the wild impatience inside her became keener, more focused.

  Every part of her being
was there, where they were joined, and her hips were thrusting, driving her forward as a dazzling energy grew. It was as if she were traveling inwardly to a mysterious destination and was almost there. A part of her strained against arrival. That part had her head tossing upon the pillow, her heels pressing into the mattress and Brett’s name rolling around in her throat.

  But he kept her traveling, a reeling, captivating journey that had her shouting his name. Just as she thought the commotion was too much, she could take no more, an explosion of sorts happened, right there in the very core he held, kissed. The fulfillment was astonishing, and burst throughout her body as if it had entered her bloodstream. Her heart hammered, her breasts tingled and her legs, from thigh to ankles, stiffened as her fingernails, hands still wrapped around the headboard rungs, dug into her palms.

  Moments later she was sinking into the mattress with such tranquility she wondered if her very bones had dissolved. She barely had the energy to moan as her arms fell to her sides.

  When she opened her eyes, Brett was there, stretched out beside her. She lifted a languid hand, pressed it to his cheek, and spent, whispered, “Oh, my.”

  He chuckled and slipped an arm beneath her neck, easing her head onto his shoulder. She lay there dizzy, spent and sated beyond reality for some time before her senses returned, at which point she said, “You’re still wearing your pants, so I have to wonder what we did wrong.”

  Brett laughed and kissed her sweetly. “We didn’t do anything wrong.” Running a hand along her arm, and then down her side, he continued, “I thought it was quite perfect.”

  Giggling, she admitted, “It was.”

  “I was compromising.”

  Luxuriating in his closeness, his touch, Ester drew a deep breath, nuzzling the chest that smelled so very wonderful. “Compromising?” she asked as a touch of confusion tickled her brain.