Read Online Wildflower by Lynda Bailey - Free Book Online

turned to answer. She tried to refocus on her meal, but a tightness in her throat made swallowing difficult.
    Maybe she should be insulted that Logan had taken care of her horse or that he assumed she’d ride to town with him. Yet she only felt grateful that he’d invited her along. The tightness turned fuzzy.
    She figured the only reason he’d married her was to get the ranch. It made perfect sense for the ranch to be her dowry. Logan was the best cowboy in all of Indian Territory. He’d build on the Standing T’s modest success. What didn’t make sense was Logan being so dang nice to her.
    A niceness that extended to the bedroom.
    She picked up her cup and casually observed her husband as he gave the men their assignments for the day. He was a good and fair boss, never treating any man better or worse than any other. His treatment of Tom yesterday was the first time she’d ever seen his temper rule his judgment. And he was a good man. She would miss him when she left.
    Sudden remorse stabbed her heart. She would miss Logan. Very much. But would he miss her?
    The question was as unwelcome as it was unsettling. Would he pine for her or simply move on to someone else? Someone prettier, who smelled nicer and wore dresses instead of denims? She didn’t want to care one way or the other if he missed her. Yet she did. And more than just a little.
    “You ready to go?”
    Logan’s voice wrenched her thoughts back to the present. She looked at him and two furrows of concern appeared in the space between his eyebrows.
    “Everything all right, Matt?”
    “Everything’s fine,” she answered briskly. She picked up her plate and cup, depositing them in the wash bucket. She grabbed her coat. “Let’s ride.”
    ~ ~ ~
    Cantering across the prairie, Logan was hard pressed to keep his attention on the ground beneath Sergeant’s hooves and off his wife. She rode beside him, sitting easy in the saddle, her face relaxed, her short hair flowing back. She was so beautiful.
    The weather was again warm and she’d opened her coat. Her fleshy breasts moved in rhythm to the rest of her body. His semi-hard cock pulsed against the saddle horn.
    The memory of those breasts in his hands streamed through his head over and over. Of her rosy nipples. Her moans and whimpers. Her pussy contracting around his fingers.
    God !
    His cock swelled further as his balls tightened. He needed to think about something else. Anything else. Otherwise he’d do permanent damage to himself.
    Last night, he’d taken the first step toward convincing his wife she was beautiful. But it was just the first step. Matt was nothing if not stubborn. More time and more effort would be needed before she would truly be “his wife.”
    They crested a small ridge and Williamsville came into view. The expected jumpiness scuttled across his neck, forcing an end to his fantasizing.
    He hated anyplace that held more than a dozen people per five square miles. While a far cry from Philadelphia, Williamsville stood on a major stage line, had a mercantile, a telegraph office and ground was being broken for a new hotel.
    Situated between the Red River and Choctaw Indian land, the area boasted some of the best grazing ground, stretching as far as the eye could see. That, combined with plentiful water, had many settlers passing through on their way further west deciding to stay. Much to Logan’s displeasure.
    Though Williamsville had a sheriff, a lawless attitude prevailed. Many of the businesses had hired professional gunmen for security. And the rise in rustling didn’t help deter the trend.
    Suddenly Sergeant whinnied and pulled up short. Logan leaped from the saddle and lifted his horse’s left rear hoof.
    “What happened?” Matt asked, dismounting.
    “He’s thrown a shoe.” He rubbed a hand up the animal’s leg then patted his flank. “This muddy trail pulled it clean off.” He looked at the horizon then at her. “Think your pony can handle carrying my extra weight?