Mitch's Win (Montana Collection, Book 1) Page 5
“They love them,” Mitch told her as he stood up. “I should get the maple syrup.”
He brushed by her and her skin warmed from the brief contact. She turned to grab the utensils, hoping he didn’t notice how being close to him made her weak in the knees. The kitchen wasn’t a big one, so when he returned to the table with the syrup, their arms touched and her heart leapt in nervous excitement. She wondered if he noticed the effect he had on her. After he settled back into his chair, she dared a look in his direction. His attention was on the children as he began telling them that he married her the night before.
Gerty came into the kitchen and helped Heather finish making breakfast. When they sat at the table with the others, Mitch led everyone in saying grace.
“I expect you two to obey your aunt like you obey me and your grandma,” Mitch told the children as he cut into his stack of pancakes that were covered in syrup.
Gerty helped Leroy cut up his pancake. “He’s right. You need to do what she says.” She looked over at Heather and added, “Poor children. They didn’t know their mother. Leroy was only one when she died giving birth to Hannah.” Turning her tender gaze to the little girl, she smiled. “Hannah was her last gift to us.”
“I’m sorry,” Heather whispered, thinking of how painful it must have been for everyone when the mother didn’t make it, especially for Mitch’s brother and children.
“Matthew’s got a ma,” Leroy said, finally looking over at his grandmother.
“Matthew’s his friend,” Gerty explained before turning to Hannah’s plate where she cut up her pancake. “And you’re right, Leroy. Matthew does have a ma, and now you have an aunt to take care of you.”
“You know Matthew’s ma?” Leroy asked Heather.
“I’m afraid I don’t,” she replied, “but maybe I’ll get a chance to meet her.”
“You will at church tomorrow,” Gerty said.
“I look forward to it,” Heather replied.
“You know who you might like?” Gerty began. “Patty Dixon. She’s about your age.”
Heather glanced from Gerty to Mitch, surprised there was another woman in the area he could have married but didn’t.
As if she understood what Heather was thinking, Gerty explained, “Patty has her heart set on marrying Greg Wilson. She’s loved him since she was a little girl. She’s a chatterbox, too, so you better get ready to get your ears talked off.”
“She means it,” Mitch added.
Heather’s heart sped up when he looked at her. He’d struck her as a handsome man the night before, but he was even more so this morning.
“I ought to tell you about everyone you’ll be meeting tomorrow,” Gerty said before she started rambling off names and ages.
Heather did her best to pay attention, but her gaze kept drifting to Mitch and how sweet and gentle he was to her. She had a feeling she was already in love with him. She could only hope someday he might return her feelings.
Chapter Six
Mitch finished feeding the cows and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Since tomorrow was Sunday, he needed to take his bath tonight. He put the rake up in the barn before he took off his gloves and set them on the workbench. Then he picked up the lantern and headed for the house. The chill around him cooled his skin, and he took a moment to breathe in the fresh air. It’d been a long day, but it’d been a good one.
It’d certainly been nice to go to breakfast and lunch where Heather greeted him with a smile that made him feel as if he were ten feet tall and could do just about anything. None of the other women had looked at him that way. Hannah had been nice to him, had even given him a kiss before she decided she’d rather be with his brother. After Hannah married Boaz, he spent a year nursing a heartache, and he spent the next year in quiet solitude. Then Hannah died in childbirth, and his mother lived with Boaz to help him take care of the children. Four months later, she moved back into Mitch’s home and brought the children with her because Boaz took to drinking in order to cope with losing Hannah.
After that, Mitch tried in earnest to get married, but the women weren’t interested in raising the children. A couple of times, Mitch posted an ad for a mail-order bride, but no one ever responded. He’d given up hope. But then Heather showed up and changed all that.
Eager to see her, he turned his attention back to the house and strode to the porch. He entered the house and went into the small room by the front door where he set the lantern down and washed the dirt off his hands and face. He glanced at his reflection in the small mirror and took his hat off so he could brush his fingers through his sweaty hair. He frowned. It’d been a long time since he worried about how he looked.
He set his hat down and washed his face again. Afterwards, he grabbed the towel hanging on the hook by the mirror and wiped his face and hands. Once more, he checked his reflection. That was better, even if his hair was one matted mess. Well, this was Saturday night, so he was due for a bath anyway.
He took off his boots before he headed for the kitchen. To his surprise, the table had been moved aside so the metal tub was in the center of the room and Heather was by the cook stove, heating up a large pot of water.
The kerosene lamp lit up the room enough for him to realize Heather’s hair was damp from her recent bath. She glanced over at him as he entered the room and smiled. “I thought I’d get your bath ready.”
“I didn’t expect you to do that,” he softly said, surprised she’d go through so much trouble on his behalf. She’d just had her bath and now she was going through the trouble of refilling the tub with hot water?
“I want to. Your mother and the children are in bed, so there’s nothing else to do.”
“You could go to bed. I’m sure you’re tired.”
She shrugged and set a bar of soap and a washcloth on the table. “You’d think so, but I’m not. I’m actually wide awake. If I went to bed, I’d only toss and turn.”
Not knowing what to say to that, for he was also wide awake due to the recent changes in their lives, he nodded and decided he might as well use the bath since she went through the trouble of getting it ready for him. “Thank you for the bath.”
“I’m happy to do it. You work hard out there.”
“Oh, I don’t know. It doesn’t seem all that difficult.”
She turned to take the pot off the stove and poured the steaming water into the tub already full of clean water. “You should be proud of the work you do, Mitch. I know a hard-working man when I see one.”
His face flushed at her compliment. Clearing his throat, he took off his clothes, unable to meet her gaze. When he finished putting his clothes on the floor, he saw that she was waiting for him with the cloth and bar of soap in her hands. His eyebrows furrowed.
“I thought I’d help wash you, if you don’t mind.”
No, he didn’t mind, and the fact that his body reacted in anticipation to the knowledge that her hands would soon be touching him spoke for him. Even so, he shook his head and said, “I don’t mind.”
He stepped into the tub and sat down. The heat from the water soothed his muscles. He let out a sigh and smiled at her. “It feels good.”
She returned his smile and rolled up her sleeves before she knelt by the tub. There wasn’t much room in the tub. As it was, he had to bend his knees to fit, but she didn’t let that deter her from dipping the cloth and soap into the water by his thigh. He dared a glance at her and saw that she focused on working up a lather into the washcloth.
He really shouldn’t be nervous around her. They were married. It was only natural that they would be in the same room without clothes on. Considering he’d taken his fill of her body that morning, it was only fair she got to see him.
She looked at him. “I thought I’d start with your back and your hair.”
He nodded and leaned forward while she scooted behind him. She rubbed his back with the warm cloth in a way that not only relaxed him but caused his arousal to get harder. Noting the awkward silence in the
room, he cleared his throat. “You’re going to spoil me if you keep doing this.”
She chuckled as she ran the cloth across his shoulders, massaging them as she did so. “You seem like the type that needs to be spoiled.”
“Oh? And how would I be if I wasn’t the type?”
“You should ask me what I mean by the type that needs to be spoiled.”
“I don’t know. If I knew what type doesn’t deserve to be spoiled, then I’d know what I shouldn’t do.”
She rubbed the rest of his back with the cloth while she spoke. “You’re a good man, Mitch. I could tell that when you came to the table at the saloon. You weren’t like the other men there. You weren’t there to drink or gamble or be with the prostitutes. You were there to get your brother out of trouble. You also tried to get my brother to release me from the bet. So you’re the type who deserves to be spoiled.” She dipped the cloth into the water behind him and rung out the water over his hair. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt to be pampered from time to time.”
He closed his eyes so the water wouldn’t get into them. “It’s hard to disagree with you,” he murmured as she rubbed soap into his hair, an action which almost made him feel as if he could fall asleep. “That feels really good.”
She giggled. “It’s supposed to.”
“What kind of things do you like, Heather?”
“Well, I like listening to the piano.”
Surprised, he opened his eyes and turned his head so he could look at her. “You do?”
“My father inherited one from his uncle and played it every evening after supper before he had to sell it.”
“That’s a shame.”
She turned his head so that he was facing forward. “I can’t wash your hair if you’re looking at me.” After she resumed working the soap into his hair, she added, “My parents got sick shortly after he sold the piano.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I like to think that everything happens for a reason.”
Well, he wasn’t going to argue with her on that point. Even if he was sorry to hear about her parents, he wasn’t sorry she was here with him now.
She finished massaging his scalp and dipped the washcloth into the tub before she poured water over his head. He shut his eyes and let the water trickle down his face. When she was done rinsing his hair, she gave him a towel so he could wipe his eyes. He figured that was it and expected to take over washing the rest of his body, but she picked the washcloth back up and soaped it.
“Sit back,” she said as she placed the soap down.
Though he obeyed, he gave her a curious look. “You’re going to wash all of me?”
With a shy smile, she shrugged. “I thought I would. You don’t mind, do you?”
“No.” He had absolutely no problems with her hands being anywhere on his body. He was just surprised she wanted to do it.
Except for the fact that her cheeks were pink, he would never have guessed she was nervous. She rubbed his chest and neck in strong circular motions. He struggled to think of something else they might talk about, but all of his attention was on her hands and how good they felt on his body. Her hands weren’t smooth, telling him she’d been used to hard work. They glided over his body in what seemed like a fluid motion, and the further down she went, the more alert he became.
When she reached his abdomen, he assumed she’d work on his legs in an effort to ignore the more notable part of his body that throbbed in anticipation. But she didn’t ignore it. Instead, she slowed her sure movements and chose a more tentative touch. She slid the cloth down his erection, wrapped it around his shaft and then tightened her grip enough so that when she brought it back up to his tip, he groaned.
She stopped and looked at him. “Did I hurt you?”
He chuckled. “No. It feels good.”
It occurred to him that now would be a good time to ask her if he hurt her when they were in bed, but she removed the cloth and touched him with her bare hand. That was better than the cloth. She leaned closer to him, and it occurred to him that she was studying him in open curiosity. Perhaps it should have made him self-conscious, but he was too aroused to care.
“Do you like this?” she asked, glancing at him.
“Y-” He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
She held him at the base with one hand to keep him upright while she traced his tip with her finger. When she brushed his slit, he shivered in pleasure. “Was that alright?” she asked.
Surprised she worried so much about hurting him, he placed his hand over hers at the base of his erection and squeezed it. He then brought it up and over his tip before bringing it back down. He released his hold on her hand. “I like it best that way.”
“But isn’t it too tight?”
“No. The more pressure you use, the better it feels.”
“Really?”
He nodded and encouraged her to keep going. Though her grip faltered a bit, she followed his instructions on how to stroke him. Closing his eyes, he relaxed even more and let her take control, thoroughly enjoying the pleasure of her touch. Her movements were uncertain at first, but as she continued, her actions became bolder and her grip strengthened. He moaned, aware that this was heading for completion but unsure of whether or not it was smart to let her take him that far. When he reached the point where if she didn’t stop, climax would be inevitable, he stopped her.
“What is it?” she asked, once again looking at him.
He couldn’t be sure, but he suspected her interest was becoming more excited than the innocent curiosity she had before. He knew touching her in bed had stirred his passion. Maybe the same was true for her? Despite his shallow breathing, he managed to tell her, “I’m about to release my seed.”
He didn’t know how else to explain it, and he wasn’t sure if she knew what he meant. Sure, he’d done that twice already with her, but he’d been inside her both times.
Her eyes grew wide in interest. “You are?”
“Yes.”
“What is it like when you do that?”
Her thumb ran across his moist slit, and he groaned. “You’re going to find out in a minute unless you stop.”
“Oh.” She examined his erection which throbbed in anticipation. “Do you want to release your seed?”
Did he want to? At this point, he wanted nothing more. “I just wanted to warn you. My seed shoots out, and I didn’t want to…” He struggled for the right word, but the best he could come up with was, “Surprise you.”
“It shoots out?” she asked, her innocent curiosity once more overcoming any hint of arousal on her part.
“Yes.”
“Can I see?”
Even as she asked the question, her grip on him tightened as she slid her hand down his shaft. There was no way he was going to deny her what she wanted, especially when he was relieved she wanted to keep going. He angled his erection toward his chest. “Go on.”
She did, her hand moving swiftly over him in the rhythm she was now familiar with, and he closed his eyes, no longer holding himself back. He murmured his pleasure, letting her know this was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. When his body tensed, he warned her he was ready to release his seed and then peaked, the warm liquid shooting on his chest. He moaned and savored each wave of pleasure until his body relaxed once more. His head cleared, and when he opened his eyes, he realized she was still studying him, even though he was no longer erect.
“Will you be able to do that again?” she asked, her fingers lightly brushing him as she undoubtedly marked the difference in how he was before and how he was now.
Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Not for a while but yes.”
“How long will it be?”
“It depends on when I get aroused again.”
She picked up the washcloth and rubbed the bar of soap into it. “What gets you aroused?”
Finding her curiosity adorable, he chuckled. “Your touch, for one.”
Her lips turned up into
a smile as she washed his chest. “What else?”
“Seeing you naked this morning.”
“Really?”
Noting the pleased tone in her voice, his smile widened. “Does that surprise you?”
She shrugged and finished washing his chest.
He sat straight up and cupped her face in his hands. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the kiss, so he inclined his head toward hers and kissed her. In her response, he sensed a passion stirring beneath the surface. He wanted to offer her the same pleasure she’d just offered him. Ending the kiss, he whispered, “What do you like, Heather? What can I do to arouse you?”
“I like everything we do when we’re alone,” she softly replied.
He hesitated to ask her about their time in bed, but given the intimate nature of their conversation, he decided he’d better, even if he feared her answer. “Did I hurt you when we were in bed last night?”
Her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. “No. Why did you think that?”
“Well, I…” What was the best way to word it? “After you left the bedroom, I noticed a little bit of blood on the sheet where you’d been sleeping. You didn’t get a cut earlier in the day, did you?”
“Oh. I see what you mean. It did sting the first time we were together, but my ma told me to expect that so I was prepared for it. But then when we were together after we woke up, it didn’t hurt at all.”
“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”
She giggled. “No. I want to be in bed with you again.” She gave him a quick kiss before shyly adding, “I like the way you feel inside me.”
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that,” he admitted. Now he felt silly for not asking her about it right away, but he was glad that he’d chanced the question now, before they went to the bedroom. He didn’t think he could resist making love to her again, and now he didn’t have to for fear he’d hurt her.
Pulling away from him and washing the cloth with the soap, she added, “No one makes it a habit of waking up and coming to the kitchen this late, do they?”