Chapter Twenty-Two

Marston sat alone before the fire that night. Rose and Langley had long since gone to bed but Marston was staying up to work on getting Langley's gun ready for Christmas.

He sighed as he shifted on the sofa. He had hoped that after what had transpired between him and Rose in the washroom that tonight would be the night he could stop calling the sofa bed. He knew enough about Rose's past to understand her fear of lovemaking but, hell, he would settle for a night of simply holding her in his arms while they slept.

The torture of having her so close and yet being unable to touch her was slowly driving him insane.

'You were already insane.'

Marston grumbled under his breath at the goading of the voice in his head and held the revolver up against the light so he could look down the inside of the barrel. He'd been working on it for two nights and already had the thing as close to new as it would ever be—it looked damn good in his opinion. He hoped Langley would be as excited as he was when he saw it.

Rose's bedroom door opened and he heard her step out. Marston's first thought went to her nightmare but her foot step were wrong for that. She didn't into the kitchen, instead she came out to the sofa and took a seat.

Marston offered her a smile. "Can't sleep?"

Rose shook her head and pointed at the revolver in his hands. "Where did you get that? Isn't yours bigger?"

Marston couldn't help but wiggle his brows. "Mine is bigger than most." He saw her flush red in the firelight and he laughed softly. "This is Langley's gun."

Disbelief filled her feature. "The one that Langston wanted him to have?" she demanded. "How on earth did you get it to look so nice?"

"I've just been giving it a real good cleaning," he replied with a shrug. "I'm gonna sneak off in the morning and try to shoot it."

"Try?" Rose asked, taking the revolver in her hands and running her hand over the cold, hard iron.

"Yeah. I'm not entirely sure it won't blow up the first time somebody tries to shoot it and I'd rather lose my hand than have Langley lose his."

Rose all but threw the gun back at him as her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. "I'd rather that neither of you lost a hand!"

Marston chuckled as he laid his hand on her soft red curls which were hanging loose around her face. "Don't worry, Rose. I can use my left hand just as good as my right so losing one won't make much difference."

Rose rolled her eyes even as she leaned into his touch. "Why don't I feel comforted?"

Marston slid Langley's revolver back into his saddlebag before patting his leg. "Get over here," he ordered.

Rose was quick to obey, loving how safe and secure she always felt with his arms around her. It amazed her that his big arms, with such death and power in them were as gentle as cotton when they touched her skin.

Rose trembled as she remembered the sight of him standing beneath that water. His body was all golden skin, littered with scars and hard with muscle and power. Rose's blood began to heat just thinking about earlier in the day.

"Do you want to hear something crazy?" Marston asked as he entwined their fingers and raised her hand to his mouth to brush a kiss across it.

"Sure," Rose whispered as a warmth spread from the top of her head down to her toes.

"I.. I feel like Langley is my boy. I certainly ain't what most would want in a pa but..."

"Marston, you've been great with Langley!" Rose insisted.

Marston's brow rose. "Are you forgetting that I made the kid hold nails in his mouth so he couldn't talk?"

"I used to make him molasses and wax gum so he'd be too busy chewing to talk," Rose admitted.

She felt Marston's chest tremble with laughter. "He is a talker."

"He loves you, Marston," Rose assured him as she held their hands up toward the firelight and studied the differences. Rose's hands were rougher than many women's because of the work she did but they somehow seemed as soft as silk against Marston's. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with the gold of Marston's.

Marston sighed. "The feeling is mutual. But, he already has a pa."

Rose lifted her head from his chest and looked into his eyes. "No, he doesn't. He has stories of a pa that he never knew. You are the first and only man to do the things a pa would do with him. You've taught him how to chop trees, hunt, work on horses hooves, aim a gun and now you're even fixing his revolver for him."

"Those things don't add up to much when I think about what y'all have done for me." Rose smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "I wonder what it would feel like to be called pa."

"You should talk to Langley," Rose urged.

Marston shook his head. "No, I don't wanna turn myself into something I'm not. I'm not his pa and I don't want to push him."

Rose yawned as she snuggled against him. Marston kissed her hair. "You need to get some sleep, Rose."

She nodded and stood slowly. The firelight shone through her thin white sleeping gown. Marston was unable to take his eyes off the shadow of her body. His fists were clenched tightly on his thighs as he fought the urge to pull her down onto the sofa and ravage her soft body.

"Marston?" The fear in Rose's voice broke through Marston's fantasies. He frowned up at her and saw the way her jaw tightened with determination.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I..." Rose let out a slow breath and her gaze went to the ceiling a moment before returning to him. "I want you to come to bed with me."

Marston's eyes widened. He was afraid to believe that she had truly just spoken the words he was nearly certain he had heard. "You want me to sleep in your bed?"

Rose nibbled her bottom lip. "Our bed?" she offered.

Marston got slowly to his feet as a smile tugged his lips. "Our bed sounds damn nice to me."

He pulled Rose into his arms, smoothed her red curls from her face and swooped down on her, devouring her lips with every ounce of hungry need he'd been fighting for so long.

Marston held her tighter as she moaned against his mouth and he deepened the kiss, tasting her sweetness and drinking her in. His blood caught fire and he knew she was feeling the intensity just as strongly by the way her hands gripped the back of his shirt and her knees gave out beneath her.

"I have wanted you for so long," Marston gasped, pulling away and moving his hungry lips to her neck.

Rose stiffened and Marston sensed the change in her—he could feel her fear. He pulled away and looked down into her wide blue eyes. "Rose?"

"I'm scared.." she whispered, tears shining up at him. "I have never made love... it was always.. before the men simply..." Rose swallowed hard as one of those tears slipped silently down her cheek. "It hurt."

Marston felt that all too familiar rage bubbling up within him but he forced it back down. His woman needed tenderness and, by God, that's what he was going to give her.

Marston cupped her soft cheek with his calloused hand and smoothed away her tear with his thumb. "You never have to be afraid with me, Rose. I would never hurt you. Not for anything this world has to offer."

"I want you to show me, Marston. Show me what it feels like to lay with a man who loves me..."

Marston nodded before bending low and scooping her up, cradling her against his body just as he had the day he'd helped her to the shower. She smiled up at him, her blue eyes glowing with the depth of her trust and love.

Marston felt that raging inferno in his blood become a burning ember which Marston knew would burn long into the night. Slowly, gently, tenderly he would make love to her until all those men in the past who had hurt her were little more than distant memories she couldn't fully recall.

"I can do that for you, love," Marston assured her, laying a gentle kiss to her hair. "Because I am that man."

He carried her into what she now said was their bedroom and closed the door silently behind them.

***

"Where are you going?" Rose whimpered.

Marston thought the way her brow wrinkled when she whined was pretty darn adorable. "How did you know I was going anywhere?"

Her eyes were still closed but the grip her arm had around his body tightened. "I felt your body tense up," she replied. "I was thinking we could just stay like this all day."

Marston felt his body get hard at the mere thought of spending the entire day wrapped up in nothing but sheets and Rose's arms. Hell, he felt as if he were ten feet tall and bulletproof knowing that she had trusted him to make love to her all through the night and still seemed eager for more this morning.

"Rose, your body needs a break, I'm sure. According to the doc you're supposed to be resting and you sure didn't do any resting last night."

Rose's eyes opened as her cheeks reddened. "I am sore..." she admitted. Then she smiled. "But it is certainly a sore I could get used to."

Marston chuckled as he kissed her head. She glanced out the window and frowned when she saw that it was barely dawn. "Where are you going so early?"

"Christmas is tomorrow."

Her frown deepened. "So?"

"I've always wondered what it would be like to eat a fresh baked turkey on Christmas," Marston admitted as he breathed in the scent of jasmine on her hair.

"And?" she urged.

"And, I'm going to go hunt for one."

Rose ran her fingertips across the hard plane of his stomach, causing him to trembled shamelessly beneath her touch. "Are you going to take Langley?" she asked.

Marston shook his head, grabbing her hand and pulling it to his mouth. "Not today. I want to test out that gun while I'm gone."

Marston dropped one last lingering kiss to her soft lips before rising and slipping into his clothes. Marston could feel her eyes on him as he buttoned his trousers. "You better stop looking at me like that, woman, or I won't leave this room."

Rose smiled. "That would be fine with me."

Marston was chuckling as he finished pulling on his clothes and boots. He stooped low and kissed her tousled hair, taking a moment to simply admire her before standing straight one again. She was beautiful. Wild red curls, kiss reddened lips, cheeks lined from the pillows and eyes heavy with fatigue from their night of little sleep. His gaze dropped to her freckled shoulders and then lower to the sheet wrapped around her chest—a chest that was covered in scars as well.

The scars there were different and Marston suspected someone had carved on her with a knife. He would be sure to find out who someday and return the favor.

"You better go, Marston," Rose warned. "Or I won't let you leave the room," her voice was full of promise.

With a groan, Marston forced his boots to carry him to the door. "Get some more rest, love. I'll be home in a few hours."

Quickly he left the room and closed the door on the very tempting picture she painted.

***

Rose had been floating all morning. She hummed and twirled as she bustled about the kitchen cooking breakfast and readying bread dough for supper.

Langley had been staring at her as if she'd lost her mind as he sat at the table eating his breakfast but Rose simply couldn't be her usual subdued self. She was the absolute happiest that she had ever been in her life. Marston was hers and she was his—and he loved her son as if he were his own. What more could a woman ask for?

"Mama, you feeling okay?" Langley finally asked when Rose spun and placed the flour jar back in its place with a flourish.

"Perfect Langley. I am absolutely perfect," she replied with a smile.

He tilted his head, shrugged and then smiled back at her before diving back into his oatmeal.

A knock sounded at the door and Rose motioned for Langley to stay put when he made a move to rise. "I'll get it. You finish your breakfast so you can see to your chores," she urged.

Wiping her hand on her apron, Rose made her way to the door. "Who is it?" she called.

When no one answered, Rose frowned. Had they been hearing things? She glanced out the peephole but saw no one.

"Mama, be careful," Langley warned, getting to his feet.

Rose nodded and lifted her rifle into her hands. It had probably simply been a critter of some kind knocking something over on the porch and there was probably nothing to worry about—but Rose would rather be safe than sorry.

Rose opened the door slowly and clutched the rifle tighter when two men slipped from either side and came to stand in front of her. Rose nearly cursed when she realized who they were.

"Hello ma'am," Duke greeted. "I see that Marston isn't here. Can we come in?"

Rose raised the rifle. "Marston didn't want you here," she countered. "I'm sure he had good reason."

Faster than Rose could react, Jeremiah reached out and snatched the rifle from her hands. "Don't shoot us," he pleaded with a grin and a wink. "You really should just let us in."

Rose was powerless to stop them when they shoved her back and stepped right inside. "That was simple enough, wasn't it?" Duke asked with a smile. The sound of him locking the door echoed throughout the tiny cabin.