James shook himself from the trance that had held him immobile. The sight of Eirica, her eyes darkened to the slate-blue of a winter sky, caught him by surprise. Watching those eyes snap, words failed him. Indeed, he hadn’t been able to move, held immobile by the sight of this woman laying into him in all her righteous fury.

Everything about her had come alive: her face had flooded with a pink that complemented her eyes, enhancing the blue, a shade he found mesmerizing and hoped to see again and again. And the rest of her, advancing on him, so small, so delicate, yet she hadn’t hesitated to poke and shove him, forcing him to back up. The soft soil beneath his boot warned him that he wasn’t far from toppling backward into the river.

Now she stared up at him, her features pale, her eyes wide with horror—and she wanted him to speak? Hell, he was breathless—and pleased beyond measure. She’d stood up to him. He chuckled, then realized his mistake when she narrowed her eyes. He stepped forward—away from the water’s edge—and reached out to take her trembling fingers in his hands, trying but unsuccessful in his attempt to wipe the grin from his face. “I think you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

His comment took her aback. Her jaw dropped, then firmed. She yanked free. “This isn’t funny, James Jones. I—I’m serious. You’re trying to control me, dominate me. Even if you are nice about it, even if you’d never strike me, I can’t live like this anymore.”

Recognizing that this was a big step for her, that probably for the first time in her life, she’d stood up for herself, James sobered. She was right. Once again, he’d barged in with what he thought was best without considering her wishes.

He moved closer but didn’t try to touch her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wasn’t laughing at you or making light of your feelings.” At her look of disbelief, he yanked off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. So much depended on her believing him.

“Hell, Eirica, I don’t want to control you or dominate you. I want you at my side. Working alongside me, walking on my arm. I want you to be a part of me, not beneath me.” He frowned down at his hat. “I should have asked and waited for your answer.”

As he spoke the words, he also accepted this was something he’d have to work on. He was just too used to giving orders and having everyone obey—well, except his sister. He glanced up, willing Eirica to believe him, to give him another chance.

She sniffed, wiping away the tears that had trickled down her cheeks. Her fingers twisted in the material of her apron. “All I want is for people to consider my feelings, to ask. I’m so tired of being ordered around and not given choices.”

James tossed his hat to the ground and held out his hands, feeling low as a snake for not considering how his good intentions might come across. “I know I tend to barge in and take over, Eirica. I don’t mean to, I just don’t think. I was truly thinking about you and what you needed. I only wanted to take you away, give you a few hours free, and let you take a rest without being interrupted.”

Eirica stared at his outstretched hands. She sighed. “I know, James. No one has ever shown me the kindness and consideration you’ve shown.” She stepped forward and placed her hands in his. “Once it would have been enough to have someone like you see to all my needs, to make all the decisions.” She hesitated when he gripped her hands firmly, yet lightly, letting her know she could pull away if she needed.

“But now?” he asked.

“Oh, James, I’m so confused. I’m not sure what I need or what I even want. I finally have something I’ve never had—freedom. Freedom to make my own decisions, to think the way I want, to do what I want. You have no idea what this means to me and I don’t want to lose it. Yet there’s a part of me that yearns for what you’re offering. I lay awake at night, worrying about what I’ll do in Oregon. How can I manage on my own with four little ones? What kind of work can I get, how can I farm land on my own? I can’t afford help. And here you are, ready to step in and help me. You want to marry me and part of me is thrilled You are everything I ever wanted. But it may be too late for me, for us. I don’t know. I need time, James. Time to figure out what I need.”

James started to turn away but with a gentle touch, she stopped him, her eyes beseeching him to understand. “Please, James, don’t think I’m treating you or your intentions lightly, but there’s more for me to consider. What will happen to me, to the children, if something happens to you?” Her fingers stilled his protest. “I could lose you by accident or illness. What then? Don’t you see? I have to be able to stand on my own two feet. I need to know how to survive, especially in a place like Oregon. If I were back east, I could find work in a big city. I could survive as a widow with four children. But out here? I’m so afraid.” Her voice trailed off.

James drew a deep breath and pulled her close, brought her hands to the hard wall of his chest. “Then I will teach you all you need to know. We will work together, be a team.” He paused, his gaze searching hers. “I’m going to ask you something, but don’t answer now. Think about it for a while. Give me a chance to prove myself. I want to marry you, be a father to your children, have more children with you—a house full of red-haired and black-haired Joneses. I love you and your children and I want to adopt them.”

“Oh, James.” Her gaze turned tearful.

James brought one of her hands to his cheek. “I want to take care of you, provide for you, but I don’t want a doormat for a wife. What you just did, the way you stood up to me, made me want to swing you up in my arms and shout. When you’re angry, you’re absolutely beautiful and you had every right to be mad. I deserve it. In fact, I thought for sure you were going to push me into the water.”

He smiled tenderly down into her confused eyes. “That’s not to say that every time you get angry I’ll react so. Sometimes I’ll disagree. Hell, I might even shout back. But I don’t ever want you to fear me, nor do I ever want you to hide your anger or any other feelings you might have because you’re afraid of me. So, let me be upfront. You know how I feel. I’m asking you to marry me. Don’t answer. Wait. And in the meantime, I’ll be patient. I won’t push you.”

At her lifted brow, his lips twitched. “Well, I’ll try to be patient and if I forget my manners, you let me know.” He twined their fingers together and brought them down between them. “You can poke me in the chest anytime. Now, would you like to go for that walk, find a nice secluded spot to sit, talk and rest, or should I take you back?”

He smiled wolfishly. “I’ll even cook your meal so you can spend time with your children—if you let me stay and eat with you.”

Eirica took a deep breath, feeling amazingly light of heart. Standing up for herself had felt good though James’s reaction still amazed her. He liked it? He’d told her to do it again if he forgot himself. Suddenly, she wondered what it would be like to shout at him, to argue with him and have him shout and argue back—without ever having the fear of being struck. Whenever the men in her life yelled, she’d had to back down or risk a cuffing from her father or brothers—or worse from Birk.

Glancing around, she saw they were still alone. There were wagons, lines of them, farther upstream and down and spread across the endless prairie as far as the eye could see, but here, in this one spot, it was only her and James, peace and quiet, no intruding voices, no crying children. She fought back a yawn, tired from the back-breaking chore of laundry. The thought of returning to start the meal, mind the children, listen to their shouts and cries as they tired made her long for just a few stolen moments alone—not to mention his offer to cook dinner. Could he cook? Well, heck, she’d soon find out. “I’d like to stay with you for a while.” She indicated the spot where they stood. “How about here?”

James smiled, revealing strong white teeth in a face deeply tanned and rugged from his days outdoors. His sheer handsomeness stole her breath. Eirica felt a thrill go through her at the knowledge that this man wanted her. She watched him remove two blankets from his horse. One he spread on the ground, several feet from the river, the other he set aside. Holding out a hand, he waited for her.

Eirica joined him. Together, they sat on the grass-cushioned quilt beneath them. She sighed. It felt so good to sit, to be off her feet. James moved in front of her and took one of her feet in his hands. To her surprise, he removed her shoe.

“James, what are you do—? Ah, never mind.” Sheer ecstasy flowed through her as he took her swollen foot between his big, warm hands and rubbed. Eirica closed her eyes. Never, not once, had anyone done this to her, and it felt heavenly, absolutely sinful. She leaned back on her hands and let his fingers work their magic. When done with her left foot, he repeated the process on her right. She slid down to her elbows and sighed when he set her stockinged foot down on the blanket.

“Here, sit up, sweetheart.” His deep, soothing voice came from behind her.

Eirica sat with a protest. “That felt so good. I never imagined…”

“Anytime you want your feet rubbed, you just tell me.” He settled himself behind her, drew her back into the cradle of his hips, supporting her with his chest, his arms wrapped around her, resting his forearms on the shelf of her stomach, just below her breasts. Her head lolled back, finding a perfect hollow near his shoulder.

He spoke, his mouth so close to her ear that she felt the warmth of his breath. “I remember the evenings when my pa used to set my ma down in her rocker in front of the fire and take her shoes off. He’d rub her feet and tell her about his day. Sometimes, he told her stories—most were blarney and she’d laugh, but that time in the evening belonged to them. None of us, not even Jessie, dared to intrude.”

Eirica tipped her head back to glance at him. “You miss them still, don’t you?”

He smiled down at her. “Yeah, I do. It’s been a long time but I still remember all the love and laughter in our home. Once a week, we’d gather and sing, dance, play our fiddles or mouth organs, or just sit and take turns telling stories. Ma was one for family togetherness. She also insisted we learn to appreciate music.”

He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “My guitar belonged to her. She used to play on the porch and sing and I’d leave my window open so I could hear her.”

“That’s sweet, James. You play well.” She blushed, remembering the night he’d played, as if playing for her. Maybe he had been. The thought, so lovely and romantic, made her smile with pleasure and forget her hesitancy in speaking of her own family. “I wish I had the same good memories that you do. There wasn’t much love or laughter in our house.” She fell silent, not wanting the taint of her past to spoil the mood of the moment.

“Tell me about your family.”

Eirica shook her head. “Someday—maybe. Let’s just say my children will know the love and laughter you had. I made that promise after Birk drowned. But I don’t want to talk about the past. Not now.”

James tightened his arms around her. “All right. Close your eyes now and rest.”

He reached with one hand for the other blanket and covered her. Then to her surprise, he rested his cheek against her hair and sang a soft, sweet love ballad. Eirica gave herself over to her exhaustion. One thought ran through her mind before sleep claimed her. If she married James, she’d have love and laughter and someone who’d set her down in a rocker each evening, rub her aching feet and sing to her.

James watched Eirica sleep, content to just hold her and dream of their future. And as he did, for the first time in a long time, he thought of his parents, of their marriage. Suddenly all their shared looks, flushed cheeks and laughter took on new meaning. Only now did he realize just how happy his parents had been.

He’d grieved for them when they died, but now he knew that it had been best and they’d been happier dying together. They’d been that close, that in love, that he couldn’t imagine either one of them without the other. Somewhere along the way, he’d closed himself off to feeling that himself.

Raising his siblings had made him afraid to be open, afraid he’d forget his responsibilities if he relaxed. Consequently, he’d been hard on his brothers and overprotective of Jessie—all because he feared failing. In his attempt to be both mother and father, to keep the same rules and standards, he’d forgotten the laughter and joy of tossing some of those rules out of the window.

Another memory struck. Late one night, when he’d been sixteen, just months before the accident that had taken his parents’ lives, his ma had come to the room he shared with his brothers. She’d woken him and quietly urged him outside. Jessie had been there, too, in her bare feet. Together, Ma led them to the barn where their favorite dog, Meara, was having puppies.

They’d spent the long night with the dog, coaching her, stroking her and finally, just before dawn, she’d had her litter—four squirming, hungry pups. Jessie had immediately claimed the first-born, a brown-and-black female who looked like Meara. They’d taken the dog and puppies into the kitchen where his ma already had a nice fluffy bed waiting near the stove.

They were all still up, had been up most of the night when his pa and brothers awoke. James had been tired, had known he had a long day ahead of him, but his pa had surprised him by insisting that the three of them go to bed for a few hours. Jessie, unwilling to leave the puppies—her puppy, Jo-Jo—had brought her bedding to the kitchen floor to sleep.

Both Meara and Jo-Jo were now gone: Meara to old age, Jo-Jo to a fatal attack by a coyote, but by then, there’d been another litter of pups. Jessie had kept Sadie, also the first-born.

An hour passed, then two, with James alternating between half-forgotten memories and visions of the future. When he noticed the sun was lowering, he nudged Eirica awake. “Time to wake up, sweetheart. I think there’s going to be three hungry young’uns waiting for us.”

Eirica woke with a start. She’d have bolted upright, but James held her tight. “Shh, easy, we’re not in that much of a hurry. Look.” He pointed to the horizon where all that remained of the sun was a last burst of brilliant red color streaking toward them, shading the world in hues of bright orange to the deepest red. Behind them, to the east, the color faded to a golden yellow with a faint hint of blue-gray.

“Oh, James, what a glorious sunset.”

His lips moved against her hair. “Not as beautiful as you.” He shifted her slightly so he could stare down into her face. Mesmerized, she stared back, her lips parted.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered.

She caught her lower lip with her teeth. “I think I’d like that.” She lifted her hands to his neck and pulled his mouth to hers.

His kiss started off slowly, a tender melding of flesh. One of his hands cupped the back of her neck, the other caressed the sides of her face and her neck. He stroked down her back as he turned her sideways so that she was cradled in his arms, pulled over his lap. His lips darted from her mouth, slid to her jaw, nibbled their way down her throat to the pulsing hollow there, then back up the smooth, soft skin beneath her chin, full circle back to her parted lips. Her soft sighs and moans fueled his need for more.

This time, he claimed her firmly, a man hungry for the taste of his woman. He angled his head, his mouth slanted over hers as he explored. Even with her kissing him back, moving with him, tasting him as he drank of her, it wasn’t enough. He needed more, much more. Slowly, giving her time to object, he used his tongue, feeling her start of surprise when he traced her lips, then probed a bit deeper, stroking inside, reveling in the moist silky softness of her upper lip. “Open your mouth, Eirica. Let me taste you, all of you.”

Eirica heard the plea in his voice. Hesitantly, she complied. The few times Birk had kissed her this way, he’d brutalized her mouth, left her bruised and bleeding, but James’s kiss left her feeling drugged, lightheaded, ecstatic. And his brief foray into her mouth made her long for more. She wanted to know, to experience with James this intimate form of kissing. James would show her exactly how it should be done.

She pulled him to her, giving him free access. At first, the invasion of his tongue seemed strange, but it also felt right. He moved slowly, giving her notice of his intent as he stroked her along her teeth, the inside of cheeks, the roof of her mouth. Eirica settled back in his embrace and shifted against a deep ache in her belly. Warmth flowed in her veins and pooled between her legs. Suddenly, it wasn’t enough to let him do all the work. Hesitantly, she moved her own tongue, touched his, then retreated. His followed and to her delight, they danced around each other.

His lips moved over her face, her neck, below her ear, leaving her needing more. She wanted him as he’d had her. Tugging his head up by threading her fingers deep in his thick hair, Eirica pulled his mouth to hers and demanded entrance to his mouth. Once there, she tasted, drank and set about chasing and stroking his tongue, and sucking on his lower lip. He groaned, or was it her? She didn’t know, didn’t care.

Their breathing grew heavy, loud. Soft moans, deep groans filled the air. Pulling her mouth from his, she traced the line of his firm jaw with her fingers, kissed the soft spot below his jaw until he tipped her chin and claimed her mouth once more.

As the kissing went on, they grew frantic, their desires deepening. Eirica felt the urge to move her legs, squeeze them together in response to some nameless ache that overwhelmed her. Beneath the blanket, James’s hand trailed down from her throat to the swell of her full breasts. She held her breath, but didn’t stop him. Slowly, his palm cupped her, his warmth sinking through the fabric of her bodice. She gasped for air when his lips moved down her throat, her head resting against him as he shifted her so he could fill both palms with her aching breasts.

Part of her knew she should stop him, stop this madness. They were out in the open, where anyone could wander past, but his tenderness, his gentleness held her enthralled as did the raging needs of her own body. The foreign feelings demanded more. “James, I—I’ve never felt like this.” Again, she shifted her lower body.

He lifted his head, his eyes glazed with emotion and need. But there was nothing there to frighten her. Only pained understanding. “That’s desire, sweetheart. Your body knows what it wants and knows I can give it to you.” He shifted slightly, letting her feel the hard length of his own need. He stroked the side of her face with his hand.

“I ache and throb, just as you do, but there’s no reason to fear me or what you feel. I won’t hurt you. I’ll prove that to you, but not now. When we make love, we’ll be alone, just you and me.” He took a deep breath, rested his forehead against hers. “We’d best stop before I forget my good intentions.”

The thought of him doing more, of somehow easing the throbbing between her legs, made her moan. She knew full well how’d he’d slake his own needs but wasn’t sure how he could ease hers. With Birk, she’d never felt this powerful urge for more, had never felt anything but shame and humiliation and pain. Would it be the same with James? Would he forget himself in his own blind need and simply use her body as a vessel?

Staring into his face—his eyes—and seeing only love shining there, she knew he wouldn’t. Somehow her body knew he’d show her what real love was between a man and wife.

James leaned down and took her lips in another slow, thorough kiss then stood, pulling her up. He encircled her with his arms, holding her loosely. “Ready?”

“Yes. And James?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You don’t have to worry over Alberik or Dante. They are just trying to be helpful.” Eirica knew that wasn’t entirely true, but she didn’t want to hurt either one of them or cause problems between them and James.

To her surprise, he threw back his head and laughed. “Me, worry about those two pups?” He took her hands in his and brought her fingers to his lips, his eyes twinkling with impish delight that reminded Eirica of his sister. “However, it doesn’t hurt to make sure they understand the way of things,” he added.

Eirica giggled, caught herself and stifled her laughter, recalling Dante’s wry acceptance and Alberik’s endearing readiness to take James on.

James was right. Though she wasn’t sure her future lay with James, she did know that as nice as Dante and Alberik were, she could never feel more than friendship with either younger man. As she and James returned to camp, Eirica rested her hands on her swollen abdomen and let James rest his arm across her shoulders, drawing her close. In that moment, she knew she was ready. Ready to trust again.

A short distance away, concealed beyond the wagons parked for the night, two men threaded through the throng of people, watching the couple walk along the water. They moved among the wagons, careful to keep their presence concealed from the man and woman as they followed from a safe distance. Zeb fingered his scarred cheek and nervously watched the man beside him. “That yer wife?”

“That bastard. He’s dead,” Birk growled.

Zeb wasn’t sure if it was the same woman who’d haunted his dreams. They’d been too far for him to know for sure, but Birk had claimed it was his wife the moment they’d seen her standing in the other man’s arms, kissing him. Zeb eyed the woman’s pregnant belly. She looked ready to pop.

He glanced at Birk, wondering if he’d made the right decision to leave his buddies in order to seek revenge. Birk Macauley was mean as billy hell and Zeb felt like a dog caught in the dough. He doubted this man would actually share his wife, especially after seeing his reaction to the sight of her kissing another man.

But it didn’t really matter. Zeb was in it now and he’d make sure he looked after his own interest. After he and Birk got his wife and that breed’s woman, Zeb would take care of Birk. The man was a lazy drunk, boastful and filled with self-righteous complaints and indignation. Zeb was tired of listening to him. Birk cared only for Birk and that was okay with Zeb. To each his own. Again he fingered his scar. But them women owed him and he planned to collect—from at least one of them.

Aware of Birk’s growing fury, Zeb pulled him away, noting that the couple had disappeared from view. “Ya can’t do nothin’ now. At least we’s caught up with them. Now we jest has ta follow and wait.”

Birk shook him off. “Did ya see that? She kissed him. She’s my wife. Nobody else touches her.”

Zeb lifted a brow. “Not even me?”

The violent rage lessened from Birk’s eyes. “Only ya. Only who I says and only one night, just to teach that bitch a lesson she’ll never forget.”

Zeb didn’t believe him, but that was okay. He’d get his and Birk would get what he deserved as well. Deciding he needed to get the man away from his wife and her lover, he stated, “We’s takin’ the sublet cutoff. With that herd of cattle, your wife’s party will head southeast, by way of Fort Bridger. We can git ahead of ’em. And travelin’ faster, we’ll have time to plan afore the two trails meet back up.”

“I ain’t gonna let that bitch outta my sight.”

“You goin’ to risk havin’ them or someone else spot ya and warn ’em? If we split off and git ahead, we can watch fer ’em, check out the trail for places to nab her and that breed’s woman. Don’t let yer anger ruin everything.”

Birk considered Zeb’s suggestion. “Yer right. She ain’t goin’ anywhere. We’ll go ahead and wait fer ’em.” He stormed off, heading back to where they’d left the pack mules, muttering, “He’s gonna die. He’s a dead man.”

Zeb followed slowly to give the other man a chance to calm down. He rubbed his hands together and formulated his own plans. First, he’d get Birk drunk enough to pass out, then he’d go in search of the woman and see if she was his angel. He fingered the knife on his belt, knowing he had to watch his back.