Sweetbriar Read online

Linnet gasped at the sight of him, his maleness alarming to her and she drew back from him, but he did not seem to notice as he quickly lay beside her again. In spite of her fear of the unknown, she responded quickly to his touch, to his breath in her ear, his teeth on her earlobe. He pulled her to him, his arms strong, his skin touching hers, so hot, so cool, so alive, vibrating almost. His kisses changed as his passion increased and she met that desire, tasting the skin of his neck with her teeth, so firm, so smooth.

  He pulled her beneath him and the weight of him startled her, his strong, hard thighs touching her smooth, soft round ones, the dark skin of his chest touching her breasts, catching them between their bodies, and the feelings that flooded her!

  At his first probing touch, her eyes opened and she tried to move away from him.

  “Linnet?” he questioned in bewilderment.

  “No,” she whispered desperately.

  He pulled her back to him and brought his mouth down on hers forcefully. All thought of protest was gone until the first sharp pain, the hurt that caused the idea of love to flee her mind. He held her face in his hands.

  “Linnet, I didn’t know. I didn’t know. Please, look at me.”

  The pain had subsided some as he lay still and she opened her eyes to him. It was Devon, her Devon, and she wanted to please him. She managed a small smile and he kissed her again as he seemed to fight some inner agony.

  “I…cannot…,” he whispered, and began to move. He still hurt her, but she saw the pleasure in his face, the almost ethereal look as his eyes closed and his lips parted. He collapsed on her quickly, roughly drew her to him and slept almost immediately.

  Linnet lay still under his heavy arm, thinking how she wished the kissing had not stopped, for her hunger for him was not in the least assuaged. She lifted a bit and looked at the long, smooth muscles of his back and her lips wanted to touch him. How many times had she seen that skin and wanted to touch it?

  He slept heavily and did not waken when she slipped from under his arm. She did not hesitate as she pressed her lips against the back of his neck, hidden and secret under black curls. His hair smelled of smoke and the strong, rich Kentucky earth. She ran her teeth along the back neck muscle, marveling at the power there, the power she held over him—the power to give him pleasure.

  She felt him stir beneath her as if he came out of a stupor, but he did not turn. She began to forget who she was, no longer remembered the strict upbringing of an English nanny, the many words of “a lady doesn’t do that!” She was a woman, alone in a quiet place, and the man she loved lay beneath her, dark and warm and untouched, and months of looking had made her insatiable in her desire to touch him.

  She put her hands on the round, hard muscles of his shoulders and slid her sensitive fingers along his arms until she lay on top of him, then lifted again, the sensitive tips of her breasts against his skin. She kissed him then, over the entire back of him, her hungry fingers and mouth caressing and exploring, curious, interested, excited.

  “Lord, Linnet! I can’t stand any more. Come here.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her beside him and he felt her stiffen again. “I won’t hurt you again. Trust me.”

  She did trust him, the trust he had asked for and received so long ago in the crude Indian hut, the trust she had since withdrawn, but now she returned it to him, with forgiveness and overflowing love. He did not hurt her again, and this time she understood the culmination of her desire. He moved slowly, carefully, until he saw that she too wanted him. She pulled at him, her fingers biting into his arms, and she moved with him, together, towering, soaring, building, and exploding as one. They lay together, entangled, wet, sated, and slept.

  Devon woke first and silently, trying not to look at Linnet, sunlight drenching her lovely body, as he dressed and walked away from her. He’d had what he wanted, she’d at last repaid him for saving her and now she could have Cord, or any other man she wanted.

  Without thinking about where he was going, he turned north toward his Shawnee grandfather’s. He needed time to think.

  The young man who walked into the Shawnee village with a freshly killed deer across his shoulder was greeted with great affection and no little noise. The women took the deer from him and he made his way directly to the large, round wigwam of his great-grandfather. The old man’s face was a spider’s web of wrinkles, and they rearranged as he smiled up at his tall, lean grandson.

  “The white man’s ways have made you soft,” he greeted the boy.

  The young man self-consciously ran his hand over his hard, flat stomach and then grinned as he sat before his grandfather. “I ask permission to stay with my Shawnee brothers for a while.”

  The old man nodded and took a long clay pipe from the wall of the dwelling. “You are welcome. You know that. There is something which troubles you?” He looked across the pipe bowl.

  “It’s nothing that time won’t heal.”

  The old man paused a moment and stared, his black eyes like tiny glass beads. “It is a woman who does this to you,” he said calmly.

  The man’s head came up sharply, and the old man chuckled, a dry sound.

  “I have not always been as I am now. I was young once also. You may stay and try to forget or remember this woman.”

  “My grandfather is very wise.” He took the pipe from the long, thin, dry fingers and they smoked together, needing no more words.

  When Linnet woke and found herself alone, it was almost as if she’d expected to find him gone. Obviously his hatred and jealousy of Cord were more than any feelings he had for her.

  Quietly, she rode back to Sweetbriar.

  Six weeks later, Devon had not returned, and Linnet was sure she was pregnant. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do and wondered if the people of Sweetbriar would still care about her if she bore an illegitimate child.

  Corinne made her decision for her. The girl, in tears, came to Linnet and begged her to tell where Mac was. She cried harder, sneaking looks at Linnet through her wet fingers when Linnet said she had no idea where Devon was.

  Corinne dramatically confessed she carried Mac’s child and he had to marry her.

  Linnet began to laugh so hysterically that Corinne fled the little cabin.

  In the morning, Linnet began to pack her few belongings and she asked some traders at Mac’s store if they could help her travel east. They told her of some settlers who would be traveling through day after tomorrow.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I HEAR YOU’RE LEAVIN’ TOMORROW,” AGNES said, her face rigid.

  “Yes, I am.” Linnet answered her in the same tone.

  The two women stared at one another, neither flinching. Agnes spoke first. “You’re a fool, you know.”

  “I know nothing of the sort.” Linnet brought a long-handled axe down on a piece of wood.

  Agnes took the axe from her. “You can maybe fool the others but you ain’t foolin’ me.”

  “Agnes, please excuse me. I’ve told you before that I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “About you and Mac.”

  “Mac? Oh yes, I believe I have met the man, but I don’t recall much else, certainly not enough to make us a pair.”

  Agnes grabbed Linnet’s upper arms. “What’s he done to you to make you this way?”

  “No one has done anything to me that I did not ask for. I am returning to the East where I belong. I refuse to remain here and wait for a selfish, pigheaded man to return and laugh at me.”

  “There’s more to a man than bein’ just what you have all picked out.”

  “And what possibly could be more?” Linnet asked sarcastically.

  “There’s a feelin’ that’s left when you’re tired after all day washin’ diapers for a man’s kids, when you’re sick and he holds the pan to catch your heavin’s. And there’s a feelin’ for a man that makes you forgive him when he does ever’thin’ wrong, when he says and does mean things he don’t intend. And that feelin’ is love, somethin’ I think y