***Just another warning about the first section of this chapter. It gets a little steamy. And who could blame them! Hope you enjoy! ***
Jake slid down between the crisp cool sheets of their bed. His pillow cradled his aching head, lulling and soothing the kinks from his neck. Slowly, his body relaxed molding to the contours of the mattress setting him somewhat at ease. The sheets felt deliciously crisp against his bare skin, causing him to stretch with a lazy yawn. It hadn't been long since Michaela and Randall had left, and Teresa with her arm wrapped around his waist, had brought him upstairs. He couldn't take his eyes off her for fear she may dissolve like the wisps of dreams. Without a word, she'd knelt down at his feet and began untying his laces, pulling his boots off of his tired feet. Placing them under the foot of the bed, Teresa tilted her face up to smile at him. One arched brow rose seductively, as she slid up between his legs and wrapped her arms around his waist once more. Her head rested on his chest, as she listened to the rapid beating of his heart. Jake's hands trembled as they wound his long fingers in her hair, then down along her jaw. He gently nudged her chin up as he bent down pressing his full lips against hers. How he'd missed this, her scent, her taste, the feel of petal like lips against his skin.
But she pulled away rising to her feet, with her hand brushing longingly down and away from his cheek. Nibbling lightly on her bottom lip, she began to leave the room only to find that she was tethered in Jake's firm hold. "Where yah goin?" his heart was about to burst.
Teresa laughed pulling herself from his grasp, "I am just going to look in on them one more time." She held her finger up in the air. "I will be back in a minute, my heart." She'd whispered the last word as she disappeared into the hallway.
With a gruff exhale, Jake tended to himself stripping down to his short drawers, and forcing himself to settle in the middle of the bed. Yet, his eyes drooped down his length watching the open door until she strolled back in wringing her hands. Sliding up on his elbows, he frowned, waiting while she gathered her hair over one shoulder.
"What is it?" he asked as her fingers blindly worked at unfastening the back of her black mourning dress.
As the top front of the dress fell loosely about her shoulders, she smiled peering at the sight of him. "I just…I want so to hold them." Finally, free of the dresses constraints she gently draped the detestable garment over the stool in front of her vanity. It was such a simple action and yet Jake found so much comfort in it. It was familiar. It was routine. He was mesmerized by her every movement as she commenced to change from her restricting undergarments and into his favorite nightgown. It was made of the thinnest ivory muslin which draped over her every curve, outlining her body to advantage. The lack of sleeves was two-inch lace straps that scalloped over her shoulders, sliding loosely down her arm every time she moved.
"Well," his voice cracked roughly. Jake cleared his throat pushing the sheets down on her side for her. "You can come hold me."
"Jake," Teresa scolded him playfully as she settled down next to him. Propping herself up on her side, the lace strap slipped down her arm, stealing all of Jake's attention. His fingers tucked up under the delicate lace and ran along the soft skin of her shoulder and across the front of her chest. He delighted so in the contrasting tones of his white hands on her tinted au lait skin that his fingers lingered along the slender curve of her neck. Teresa's head fell back splaying her thick satin strands of hair beneath her. Nudging her onto her back Jake gently moved to hover over her.
How she had missed this. She breathed in his intoxicating scent of leather, shaving tonic and his light gentlemen's musk. Licking her lips, she brushed them along the swell of his Adam's apple, eliciting a guttural groan that tightened every muscle in his arms. She continued to kiss a line up his neck and along his hard jaw line until his mouth engulfed her own. As the kiss deepened Teresa felt her heart fluttering wildly, every inch of her body tingled drunkenly at the weight of his body pressing into her. Instinctually, she bent one leg up tight against his flank, spurring his reaction to her in extreme vigor.
Momentarily, Jake released her from his subduing kiss, "I love you, Teresa." His hand reach down under the thin linen sheets, finding the hem of her muslin gown, and sliding the flimsy fabric up her leg and passed her thighs. His eyes darkened like two murky sapphires burning like the blue infernos of a candles flame. The corners of his mouth curled up as brazen as a ravenous wolf intent on devouring every inch of her. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he brought the gown higher forcing her breath to catch in her throat. Jake dipped his head down running his cool moist tongue up her neck, before nuzzling close to her ear. "The most wonderful woman I've ever known." His voice hummed, deeply drenched with desire. Teresa felt as though her heart was going to pound right out of her chest as Jake's hand pressed warmly between their bodies. His thumb stroked the outer rim of her bellybutton before his hand continued in its journey. "You're all I could ever want or need, yah know that?"
He could feel the strain beginning to break within him, as he took his place before her. She felt him then, breaking passed her barrier and shattering her soul. "Jake," she gasped close to his ear. "You are my heart."
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Dawn broke crisp and bright over the sleeping town of Colorado Springs. The air was scented with the musky aroma of dew, which only helped to set off the wafting vaporous scents of the eucalyptus trees, bordering the meadow and open fields of wilderness. Randall inhaled deeply taking in the splendor around him as he walked along the side of his midnight charger. Together they strolled, not as man and horse but two companions exhausted from their recent adventurous excursions. Randall paused as they reached the wide dirt road that separated the open field from the train station. He was beginning to regret his decision not to take Ms. Teresa or Dr. Quinn up on their offers to stay over.
With a weak smirk, he looked passed the station and down the wide main street of the town. He could just make out what he assumed were the livery stables, yet with his tired feet screaming obscenities of pain at his body, they may as well have been miles away instead of yards.
"We've come this far, Cin'," Randall spoke softly patting the horse's thick sable mane. Cin's head bobbed seemingly in an irate response. Together they trudge onward crossing the pass and nearly dragging themselves across the currently train-less tracks. Looking around him, Randall had to admit Ms. Teresa wasn't wrong about this town. It did resemble for all the world to be an untouched jewel. Randall struggled to recall the order of the shop fronts, Teresa had recited to him before he'd left to escort Dr. Quinn home safely. Reaching what he'd correctly deemed the coopering stables, he tied Cin' to the high post and waited. Leaning against the round fence rails himself, he allowed his eyes to settle on the red and white striped pole of the barbershop. His eyes shifted back to the emerald green façade beside it. Looking passed the fancy scrolled banner which meant nothing to him, Randal immediately set himself to wondering why anyone would drop such an out of place structure in the middle of this sweet town. He rested his hands on his hipbones about to investigate the structures oddity, when he heard movement behind him.
"You're up mighty early," a man's friendly yet groggy voice commented. "You come in on last night's train?"
Randall straightened coming face to face with the yawning blacksmith himself. "Yeah, yah might say," he dug into his vest pockets retrieving two dollars worth of change and offering it to the man. "That cover the board for the horse?"
The blacksmith blinked spreading the coins about in his strong meaty hand. "Yourah dollah fifty over, Mister."
He attempted to hand Randall back his change, only to be gently rebuffed. "You go ahead and keep what's left, Mr.-ah?"
"Robert E.," he was flummoxed as he observed the man before him. His eyes although hooded under his tan flaxen brow, were crested with a cheery attitude which set Robert E. at ease.
"Oh uh," he seemed to be forgetting himself in his drained haze. "Randall McCoy," he immediately offered his hand greeting the smith as though they were long lost friends. Randall walked out into the yet vacant street with Robert E. in tow. "I wonder, if you might tell me were I could find the uh…Gold Nugget?"
Robert E. straightened unsure once again, but he pointed down the street anyways, "See that sign with that big yellow lettering…says Gold Nugget."
Randall squinted with a nod, "I've been up all night long…Thank you." As he set about the arduous task of dismounting his saddlebags from Cin's rump, he heard the blacksmith exhale with a shocked sigh.
"What's that woman up tah now?" Robert E. shook his head watching as a crimson-headed woman made her way up the boarding houses porch and tip toed inside.
"Who's that?" Randall asked slinging the sienna tinted leather bag over his broad rounded shoulder.
"A woman who ain't got no business being here," Robert E. exhaled turning to take Cin's reins.
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How could he love her? Her hand formed a tight fist which she laid firm on the small cherry stained dresser. The top was lined with a delicate white lace runner that protected the finish from her brush, combs, and perfumed cosmetics. One nostril sneered at the plainness of these objects compared to Teresa's finery. The woman's vanity sparkled with the sheen of diamonds. Her brush was made of filigreed silver and the bristles where of the finest quality. Celina's scratched and worn wooden combs and brush smiled up at her with missing tines and empty bristle holes. Her fist tightened gauging the sharp little crescents of her nails into the skin of her palm. With her, other hand Celina pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling every ounce of tension piercing her head like a spike.
"She's with you now…" she spoke to her reflection in the dull mirror. "Soon you'll see how beneath you that…that…Mexican is."
Celina sneer once more unable to comprehend the attraction. She ran her fingers along her alabaster skin stretching obscenely as she scrutinized her face. Her finely arched brows were groomed into a dark tawny shade of auburn which framed her almond eyes. They were fringed in matching lashes that enhanced the murky emerald color of her eyes. Releasing her cheek, Celina ran her ring finger along the thin bow of her pink bottom lip. What was there, that he couldn't see?
"Just like Harris. You're just like Harris," one brow rose with a curl of pain in its expression for that memory. "He wasn't strong enough to shuck his wife either…but Izzy. Yes." Her face softened then revealing a serene reflection. "Yes…just like my own child. That's what they'll say when they see us about. How much she looks like me. Jake you won't deny me that. Our child…that's what she'll be."
Her fist felt numb and yet cool at the same time. Absently, she watched as a tiny trickle of blood ran down the slope of her wrist and puddled on the white lace runner. The cotton threads soaked up the ruby liquid, browning with each passing second. Celina remained thus, watching the matte bloom growing and seeping down into the cherry wood finish of the dresser.
"You won't be like Harris, my love. You'll be stronger."