Immediately, she ran across the yard toward the house, her flimsy gown billowing in the night. Quickly, she looked in on the boys. Certain they were fine, she closed the front door and stood guard.
Tense minutes passed. Finally, Mr. Barrington strode out of the dark toward the porch. He’d already figured out she wasn’t in the barn.
He holstered his gun as he approached. “Stay put. What part of those words don’t you understand?”
The bunched muscles in her back relaxed at the sound of his voice. “I was protecting the boys.”
He glanced at the pitchfork. “Next time, get the gun.”
She’d forgotten all about the gun. She felt foolish. “It was too dark.”
“Lesson number one. Never come outside at night without it. Keep it under your pillow if you must. If it’s not a stranger it could just as easily be a bear.”
A bear. She’d seen a bear in the circus once. It looked soft and furry. “Was it a bear?”
“I think so.” The dark made his features unreadable, but anger singed his words.
“Do they come this close often?”
He glanced toward the moonlit horizon, his face hard. “Often enough.”
“I saw a bear in a carnival once. It looked friendly enough. It wore a red vest and a laced collar.”
He looked at her as if she’d gone daft. “They can tear you to shreds with one swipe of their claws.”
“Oh.”
He tapped his finger against his gun handle. He reached past her for the lantern that hung by the front door. Pulling a match from his pocket he lit it.
“Maybe it won’t come back.”
“It will.”
“How can you be sure?”
“When an animal comes this close to a homestead, it’s grown bold. I start corralling the horses tomorrow, and I don’t like the idea of a bear this close to the homestead.” Buttery, warm light had Abby squinting until her eyes adjusted. Mr. Barrington held up the lantern and studied the ground.
“You’re not going after it tonight, are you?” she asked.
“No, it’s too dark, but I wanted to see if there were any tracks in the yard.” He turned and moved off the porch toward the barn and stopped.
Abby followed him. “What are we looking for?”
He knelt and pressed his fingertips into a large indentation of a claw in the dirt. “Tracks.”
Her hair fell forward as she held up her lantern and leaned forward to study the dirt. “How can you tell much? I mean, it could be another animal.”
He gently touched the imprint burrowed in the dirt. “It’s a bear. A male, judging by the size of the foot.”
“Oh.”
“He favors a paw. If he’s injured he’ll be more dangerous.”
“Good Lord, you can tell that by just one track?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell what color it is?” she asked flippantly.
He glared up at her.
She shrugged and pretended to stare harder at the dirt. “It looks like just dirt to me.”
He shoved his fingers through his hair. “I won’t be able to get a true read on these tracks until morning. Then I can follow it and find out where it came from.”
“Who taught you all this?”
He rose, his gaze aimed toward the distant horizon. “An Indian tracker for the army.”
Yet another facet to a man she knew so little about. “You’ve certainly had a checkered career.” Nervous laughter bubbled inside her. “To be honest it’s all I can do to follow street signs with a map.”
A half smile curved his lips as he turned.
However, all traces of humor vanished when he faced her. The glow of the lantern accented the hard planes of his face. His shirt was open and the thick mat of hair curled on his broad chest. His eyes darkened with an earthy intensity that had her flesh puckering into gooseflesh. The air between them sizzled.
Her nipples hardened and her breathing grew shallow. “Is something the matter?” she said, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper.
Silent, his gaze moved leisurely and boldly up her body. “Your lantern.”
Self-conscious, she raised her lantern. “What about my lantern?”
“Its light makes your gown transparent.”
Matthias could not lift his gaze from the near-naked swell of Abby’s breasts. His mouth watered as he stared at the threadbare nightgown that molded to her full, taut breasts and nipples.
He flexed his fingers, praying for the strength to walk away. None came.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze to hers, half hoping to see shock or outrage in her green eyes. Anything to jolt him out of this raw lust pulsing in his veins.
What he found was desire, albeit hesitant and untried, in her green eyes. She moistened her lips. Dear Lord, she truly looked as if she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
His erection throbbed. Sanity vanished.
Matthias took the lantern from Abby and blew it out. Then in one swift move, he wrapped his arms around her narrow waist. She came willingly, encircling her arms around his neck. Her breasts strained against the fabric and pressed against his chest.
Her long hair, a rich waterfall of curls, teased the top of her waist as she tipped her head back. Her lips parted.
Matthias kissed Abby on the mouth. Her lips opened and his tongue slid into the warm, wet depth of her mouth. A soft moan rumbled in her chest, and she rubbed her flat belly against him.
He tightened his grip, threading his fingers into the silken mass of her hair. Her desire fanned his and before he thought too much, he backed her up several paces and had pressed her against the side of the barn. His legs braced apart, her thigh pressed seductively over his hardness.
Abby tipped back her head and he kissed the soft hollow of her neck. Her pulse hammered under her tender skin. Her blood raced like his.
Matthias’s hand slid down her firm thigh. He grabbed a handful of her nightgown and yanked it up until his hand touched bare skin. He squeezed her naked buttocks. She arched, her fingers biting into his back.
He kissed the center of her collarbone, then moved south to the top of her right breast. Hindered by the fabric, he sucked her nipple through the nightgown until it hardened into a peak.
Breathless, he lifted his gaze to hers. Her eyes were half open and her gaze shrouded by the dewy haze of passion. Months of pent-up desire exploded. Consequences be damned. He’d have her now.
“Inside the barn,” he said, his voice as rough as the jagged rock of the distant mountain peaks.
She moistened her lips again, nodding. “Yes.”
He gave her buttocks one last squeeze then shoved open the barn door. “There’s a fresh bale of hay in the corner.”
She followed him to the sweet earthy hay and lay down on her back. Leaning back on her elbows, she stared up at him. Her gown was hiked up past her knees. The top four buttons were unfastened, creating a low V between her breasts. The creamy mounds created a seductive cleavage.
Matthias fell to the straw. Grabbing her behind the knees, he yanked her to him before he positioned his body between her legs. Cupping her right breast with one hand he cradled her neck with the other. He kissed her again, devouring the taste of her. Her hands eased under his shirt up his back.
Matthias lost track of time. He didn’t know how long he kissed her, fondled her, but by the time he rose and reached for his belt buckle, his blood boiled with desire.
He unfastened the buckle and then the top three buttons. He ached for release.
Abby lowered her gaze to his pants, staring expectantly. She’d never seen a fully naked man before but in truth nothing felt more right or natural. Soon, she would understand what the women in the kitchens talked brazenly about, what they all craved so much, what Douglas had just begun to inspire in her.
The throbbing in her body was like nothing she’d ever known. She could feel her own dampness and though she didn’t understand it, knew it was right. With only n
ature and meager experience as her guide, she slid her hand down his flat belly. He hissed in a breath. He wanted her. And she marveled at the power of her womanhood.
Matthias reached inside his pants and pulled it out. For a moment she could only stare in shock and wonder. Though she understood the logic of what was about to happen, in truth she couldn’t imagine how it was going to fit.
Matthias pushed up her nightgown. He draped his body over hers, only this time the tip of his manhood pressed against her soft, moist opening.
Deep in her heart, she understood that once they joined, they would in some way be bonded forever. There would be no going back for Abby.
This moment was nothing like she’d ever imagined, and yet it was better. There were no soft words or poetry, only a raw need. But she needed something from him. She wasn’t naive enough to expect words of love, but she needed to know it was her he was making love to.
She stroked the hard muscles of his buttocks. “Say my name,” she whispered, her voice so husky she barely recognized it.
The lust in his veins had stolen his voice, his ability to speak in clear sentences. He pressed his arousal against her opening, poised to thrust.
She wriggled, so that he fell away from her opening. “Say my name.”
The corded muscles in his neck strained as he repositioned himself. Sweat dampened his brow. Closing his eyes, he began to push inside her.