Ante Up

ANTE UP by Marianne LaCroix

ANTE UP A Lady Aibell Press/Chippewa Publishing Publication, June 2006 Chippewa Publishing LLC P.O. Box 662 Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin 54729 Available Formats: Adobe Acrobat Reader (PDF) Other available formats: Palm Doc (PDB), Rocket/REB1100 (RB), Pocket PC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB), hiebook (KML), iSilo (PDB), Mobipocket (PRC), OEBFF Format (IMP), Microsoft Reader (LIT), (HTML). ANTE UP Copyright © 2006 Author Edited by Kimberly Burton Cover Art by Marianne LaCroix Proofed by Tammy Xanthakis

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole, or in part, by any means, without the written consent of the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination, or are fictitiously used. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. WARNING: The contents of this book are intended for mature audiences 18 years of age and older only. Language, violence, and sexual situations may apply. PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

CHAPTER ONE Dodge City, Kansas, 1873

“Call,” he said with a small smile as he tossed in ten more gold pieces into the pot that had grown larger throughout the game. There were only two poker players left—Jessie and the cowboy who’d arrived earlier that afternoon. She had a bad feeling about him when he strode into the Deadline Saloon, but the gambler in her couldn’t resist the urge to pick him clean. His style was impeccable—too immaculate for one used to living out in the west, so she’d assumed he was a greenhorn trying to act tough. Easy money. It was the first thing that had come to mind when she first took in this stranger. Her fingers itched to get a hold of his gold coins. When he gazed at her with hooded eyes from beneath a low Stetson, she wanted more than just his money. Those soft brown eyes felt as though they stripped away her clothes and peered at her naked. Somehow, the idea of him looking upon her gave her excited shivers. Not at all unpleasant. “I can’t match that, stranger.” Her voice was steady and commanding. She was torn. She had a great hand, one she wanted to play. The glittering pot on the table was large and could give her all the luxuries a woman could ever want. She could probably quit gambling for a living if she won. Hell, she could buy back her family’s estate from the thieving carpetbaggers who held it now. She was determined not to give up easily. “Miss, to stay in this game, you have to match my money.” He sounded too sure of himself, and Jessie was almost positive he was bluffing. The large pile of gold coins and silver trinkets before them were too much of a temptation for either to give up. The twinkle in his eyes betrayed his poker face. “I’m not quitting.” What could she offer him to see his cards? Nearby, the sound of the piano softened as more of the patrons of the Deadline stopped to watch the heightened drama at the table in the back of the saloon. She could hear the clinking of glasses filled with thick beer or shots of whiskey, along with the chatter of the drunken patrons. Nothing could deter Jessie’s attention from the handsome stranger crooking a smile at her. His full lips awakened her imagination—heated kisses along her spine and hands caressing her curves. She glanced at those hands, neatly manicured. Long, lean fingers folded his cards and placed them flat against the table. Why hadn’t she noticed his hands before she’d started playing? Those were the hands of a 1

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professional hustler, a gambler. She should’ve noticed earlier. This stranger wasn’t a greenhorn; he was a card player by profession. She tried to read his face, but saw nothing about the hand he now played. There was something more devious in his eyes than winning the game. Perhaps, if luck was on her side, she could offer him something besides money to stay in the game. “Well, miss? Ready to make a decision?” That voice was like hot butter over her skin, melting and smooth. Her body reacted and she quickly came to a decision. “One night.” “Pardon?” “One night, stranger. I’m offering one night in my bed.” His eyebrow rose and he pushed back the rim of his rum colored Stetson. “That’s quite an offer, Miss…?” “Jessie. Jessie Clayton.” “Miss Clayton, are you sure you want to bet a night?” “The question is if you’re willing to accept my offer to see your hand?” Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched him pick up his cards with those long, tanned fingers. His eyes studied the cards then he folded them in his hand. “Miss Clayton, I accept the bet. Now, sweetheart, let’s see what you got.” She smiled and her eyes never left his face as she turned over her cards. “A straight flush.” The appearance of her cards—the queen, jack, ten, nine, and eight of hearts—made the watching crowd gasp. The hand was hard to beat and she knew it. Did this hustler think he could beat her? “Beat that, Mister…?” she asked with a cocked brow. “Wade Hampton, but you may call me Wade, Jessie.” Her breath caught as he answered with a devilish smile and breathed her name with a seductive tone. He lay down the cards on the table, and she couldn’t believe her eyes. “A royal flush.” The man was beyond arrogant. He was downright smug. The crowd reacted around her as they exchanged money in their own bets on the outcome. But nothing touched Jessie as the flutter of her heartbeat drowned out the buzzing in her ears. How could she have lost? And how could she have bet her body? He leaned into the table over his cards. “Ante up, Miss Clayton.” **** Even after spotting her, Wade hadn’t planned on playing against the pretty brunette who was set up at a card table with two other patrons of the Deadline. Having just arrived via the stage that afternoon, he was ready to rent a room and get some rest. But her sapphire eyes beckoned to him from across the room. Never had he seen eyes such an intense shade of blue. Her sweet smile was a killer to any man in the vicinity and he felt an instant attraction to her. A royal blue satin bodice trimmed in black lace encased her creamy mounds. Her gown was shorter than considered proper, but then, she was frequenting a saloon rather than the town church. One would never catch a real lady within ten paces of the front door of a place like this. But there she was—a beauty among the beasts. She was female, but she was no genteel lady. She didn’t look to be a woman to be easily taken for a night at a cheap price either. That much he could sense just from the way she held her shoulders, and the graceful tilt of her head to one side.

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She was prime womanhood. Before he knew it, he was playing against this belle of Dodge in a game of poker. She was skilled, more so than any other woman card player he’d ever come across. Not even the few other female gamblers he had met over the years were so intent on the game and the strategy of winning. It wasn’t so much her intelligence that attracted him at this point. Her skin looked so soft he wanted to touch and taste. Her soft breasts, held firm by the tight corset she wore, made his mouth water with desire. As she laid a card upon the table, he’d watched her nimble fingers, slim and feminine, as they caressed each stiff card. Damn, his cock got hard just seeing her tongue dart out to lick away a trace of whiskey on her lips. He practically had to suppress a moan when he envisioned that tongue moving over his nipple in a similar, seductive motion. She’d bet and lost, and he now followed her across the busy room to the stairs leading up to a floor of rented rooms. He watched the sway of her hips beneath the blue satin and the layers of petticoats underneath. All that fabric couldn’t hide the luscious woman’s body. Curves in all the right places. A glimpse of her slim ankles encased in silk hose almost made him come unglued. Each step revealed the sinful temptations, and he couldn’t follow fast enough. “How long you staying in Dodge, Mr. Hampton?” “Please, call me Wade. And I’m staying for as long as it takes.” She stopped on the middle of the stairs and turned to him. “Long as it takes for what?” “To wear out my welcome. Of all people, you know how a gambler can wear out his welcome in a town if his luck is too good.” Her sapphire eyes scanned him from head to toe. His cock jumped as her eyes settled on it straining against the front of his pants. “You may wear out your welcome before the night is through. Don’t plan on staying.” Inching up to her on the stairs, he brushed his body against hers. Her tempting breasts were just at his eye level. He ogled her. “You bet a night. I intend to enjoy it to the fullest. And I bet you will beg for me to stay once the sun rises.” “You presume too much, Mr. Hampton.” “Do I?” His hand rose to her back and he pressed her warmth into his own. No one else existed aside from the two of them. “Care to make a little wager?” After a moment, she pushed out of his grip and proceeded up the stairs to the first floor landing. “Don’t get any ideas that this night is anything more than a debt being paid. That’s all it is. Nothing more. When morning comes, I want you to get out of my sight.” He stood staring after her. “We’ll see, my little Queen of Hearts,” he muttered. “We’ll see.”

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CHAPTER TWO

Bastard. Wade Hampton had accepted the bet, and she’d lost the game. The concept was unbelievable. All that money lost to a hustler. A handsome hustler. He walked behind her down the hallway to her rented room, her temporary residence in town. Damn him for guessing she stayed until it was time to fleece a new crowd. Good luck to a gambler was walking away with the pot. Too many wins made the players grumpy and eager to win back their losses or blame the winner. At her door, she pulled a key from her reticule and slipped it into the lock. She wondered why she even bothered. A forceful shove could open the door regardless of the lock. Without a word, she left the door open behind her and stepped in to light the oil lamp. A flick of a match illuminated the dark room in soft white light. There wasn’t much to see. A double bed, an oak dresser and two chairs were the only furniture. Her carpetbag, poised to be filled at a moment’s notice, sat on one of the chairs just in case she had to leave in a hurry. A red quilt covered the bed—the room’s only homey touch—and white lacey curtains hung on the small window overlooking the dusty street below. “Nice. Better than the usual rentable rooms I’ve come across.” He closed the door behind him with a click of the lock. “It’s clean,” she quipped. How do you talk to someone you don’t know before you’re about to fuck? It wasn’t like she did this type of thing on a usual basis. She had morals, a private code of ethics. And one of those codes was to never bet with her body. At twenty-nine, she’d stuck to her code, until this devil strode into the saloon. “Want something to drink?” Yeah, stall, Jess. “I can think of one thing I’d love to drink.” His voice was thick and husky. Images of his head between her legs lapping at her core flooded her mind. She was supposed to be cool and unaffected, but he made her hot and edgy. He sat in the one stuffed chair—a faded velvet one shoved next to the bed. Pushing back the rim of his Stetson, he smiled at her with a naughty glint in his eye. “What do you think you are doing?” She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. Or did she? “You lost a good hundred dollars tonight, at least. I expect to be paid in full for such a large pot.” “And that means…?” “That means tonight I want you to do whatever I say. And you can start by stripping off your 4

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dress nice and slow.” “You’re a dog.” “Woof, woof.” He crooked a smile and his eyes flashed with lust. The way he looked at her, seductive and devilish, made her body hum. She could feel every fiber vibrate with excitement, though she denied it inside. Her cunt couldn’t be fooled. She wanted to have this man fuck her. She wanted his cock to fill her. She desired him to taste her, touch her. One night of pleasure. One night. She’d had to work for everything since the war. Born to a typical Southern plantation family, she’d known the life of wealth and luxury. But then, the Yankees had swept through Georgia and destroyed everything. The house was gone. Her father and younger brother had taken ill and died of scarlet fever. Mother had died shortly later, too devastated from losing so much. This left Jessie with no other choice; she had to fight to survive on her own. What was left to a young woman of twenty-one? She refused to sell her body to the highest bidder in marriage, or to a house of ill repute. What would her mother have thought of that? No, Jess had had to find something else to do to survive. Her father had taught her card games, and she could play with the best. He often said, “Jessie-girl, you could win the pants off a man if he weren’t careful.” So, she’d packed her few possessions and moved west, playing poker for the means to live. Eight years after she started this life, she was tired of the uncertainty. She was cautious and tight-laced, never letting anyone into her heart. With no living family ties, pain and loneliness were her companions. Harold Dover had broken her heart shortly after she began her life on the road. He found her in a saloon and romanced her feminine sensibilities. She should’ve known all he wanted was a few rolls in bed. Once he’d tired of her, Harold had moved on, leaving her behind. She’d hardly given him a second thought since she recovered from his betrayal. Would this be any different? No, Wade would leave in the morning and she would be fine. No emotions involved—just sexual release and satisfaction. What would one night of carefree bliss be like? Could she afford to let go of her restraint to enjoy pleasure at the hands of this man? He was like some men from her past, ones who had eased her private longings, but there was something more exciting about this stranger. His brown eyes held that hint of sensitivity that, maybe, he might be more than a scoundrel looking for a good lay. “Jessie, I’m waiting, sweetheart.” His voice broke into her thoughts. “You want to see me naked?” Was that her voice? It was heavy and seductive. One night of bliss. One night. “You’re a beautiful woman. I know under all those petticoats hides a body made for pleasure. I want to see it.” Why not? He’ll be gone in the morning. “Promise we’ll fuck through the night?” She slipped into the role of temptress, caressing her body, cupping her breasts through her bodice. “Yes, sweetheart. That and so much more.” She reached around to the hooks at her back and unfastened one. “Want to suck my nipples, Mr. Hampton?” she asked, letting the inner hussy take control. One night of sex. One night. “You’re playing with fire,” he said as he laid a hand on his hardened penis outlined against

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his pants. “I’m hard as a rock.” Another hook unfastened. “And I’m wet.” He moaned. Two more unfastened. “Want to taste me?” She was not even thinking. Her body was dictating her actions. Slowly lifting her skirt, the bodice of her dress gapped as she leaned forward and reached underneath to run her finger through the slit of her under drawers. “Oh, yes, so wet.” He started rubbing his erection in slow strokes. Passing her fingertip through her folds, creamy with her juice, she collected a sample. “Here, smell me.” She stepped to him with her dress still held in one hand. The other hand she offered to him. He sniffed and groaned. “Sweet.” Then his mouth enclosed her honey-covered index finger. The simple action was unexpected. She never thought if he sucked her finger how it would affect her. Her dress dropped from her body, revealing her loose breasts before his face. “Oh, Lord, you’ve got the most beautiful nipples I’ve ever seen.” He reached a hand up and palmed her breasts, stroking his thumbs over the taut points. Clad only in her petticoats, hose and shoes, she felt beyond vulnerable. She was exposed. And she didn’t mind. Moaning, she arched into his hands, her breasts filling his grip. His touch was driving her wild, and she wanted more—much more. One night of ecstasy. His mouth closed around her protruding nipple and she whimpered. Hot and teasing, his tongue caressed the hardened point. Sucking her one nipple, he stroked the other, swollen with need. “Touch me, Wade.” She croaked his name as he continued to pleasure her. His hands slid up her thighs and up under her petticoats. She was vaguely aware of him stripping away her undergarments as he suckled at her breast. Wetness oozed from her core, and she ached for relief from this torment. “Damn, woman, you’re so hot and ready,” he whispered against her skin. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.” “Yes, please.” No inhibitions. No doubts. Just want, need—aching and urgent. His fingers brushed at her cleft and she moved closer, spreading her legs and climbing on top of him. Her petticoats hid her bare bottom and he traced his fingertips over their soft curves. He unfastened his pants and his penis jutted from its confines. It was hard and long, just the right thickness, and she squirmed with the need to have him up inside her. “Wade, fuck me now.” “Want me moving in you, making you come?” His voice was barely controlled. “Oh, God, yes,” she said softly as he guided her hips over his legs. The rough feel of his clothes against her sensitive thighs made it all more exciting, more erotic. Then he impaled her and she gasped at the invasion. Her intimate walls stretched and accommodated his size. She had to fight to prolong her body’s response to come. Beating down an immediate climax, she wanted to ride this out longer, to enjoy the fine stallion of a man within her. “Ride me, Jess. Use me to come. Oh damn it, you’re so perfect.” His hands at her hips caressed her skin, and she felt the heat radiate and seep into her. He rocked her and encouraged

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her movement over him. She surrounded him, rode him, savoring every thrust. She tossed back her head and increased her own pace, enjoying the bliss of a fine man answering her needs. The bounce of the chair, the hardness of the man, the nakedness of her body, it all added to the moment, the sheer basic need to mate. When she could take no more of the sensual assault, he reached up to her face and brought her lips down to his. She climaxed as he kissed her. The world exploded into a million colors, a glorious rainbow painting the moment with indescribable beauty. He kissed her as she rode out her orgasm, and he spilled his own essence into her womb. While he filled her core with his seed, he controlled her mouth, ravished it, marking her as his. His tongue darted in and out, relishing her sweetness. She lost sense of where she ended and where he began. They were as one—one body, one spirit—joined as lovers, yet more. Something changed within her. This was not one night of meaningless sex with a stranger. This became so much more than one night of ecstasy. How could she ever bear to see the light of day when he had to leave? **** This woman was more than he’d bargained for. She was a wildcat, and he loved it. She tempted him with her body, and those little sounds she made when he thrust up into her wet cunt, he lost all sense of reality. That was heaven, his heaven. No one else’s. When the hell did he, Wade Hampton, reputed ladies man and King of Broken Hearts, think of a woman beyond a good fuck? Jess was more than that. She was incredible. When he’d slipped into her, he thought he had died. No other woman had ever felt so hot and ready to take him then drain him of every drop of his essence. She rode his cock like a woman abandoned, a woman driving into her own paradise, who happened to take him along for the ride. He needed more than her tight pussy. He wanted her soul, her heart. Kissing was usually off limits when he planned on a one-night romp. Kissing was more personal than sex. Emotions were awakened by a kiss. Still up inside of her warm channel, he was aware her breathing had calmed. She slumped against him, wrapping her body around his as best she could while straddling him in the chair. He traced the gentle curve of her back, smooth soft skin against his fingers. He touched the mound of silky tresses secured on her head. With the removal of a few hairpins, the entire length tumbled down about her shoulders. A man could get lost in that ocean of waves. Fingering her hair, he grew hard inside her. Her naked skin, long hair, the scent of sex and desire in the air—he wanted her again. Tonight he would make her change her mind. The joke about having her beg him to stay wasn’t so funny now. In the morning, he wanted Jess Clayton to ask him to stay. The instant his lips had touched hers, he knew no other woman could compare to this beauty, this wildcat. She had become his Queen of Hearts in that simple gesture. Her answering passion to his own was intoxicating, and he wanted to get drunk on her kisses for years to come. “I want you again.” He was sure she did, too, judging by the small rocking of her hips. “You feel so good inside. I want to hold you there.” “Good, because I’m going to let you.” Forever. She moaned. “Except, let’s get a bit more comfortable, shall we?” He wanted to see all of her. Every inch

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of skin—skin created just for him to caress. “And then I can see all of you.” “That would mean I’d have to leave you.” “Only for a few moments. I doubt you can keep me from ramming into your sweet pussy again.” Giggling, she slowly eased away and he slipped out of her passage. Covered in her cream, he wished he hadn’t suggested she release him. He watched her pull away the last remnants of her petticoats. There before him, she stood clad in only thigh high hose and a garter attached to each, the belt high on her tiny waist. High heels completed the look—the temptress. She leaned over to remove her hose and he jumped up from the chair, catching her hand. “No. You’re incredibly sexy just like that.” He hardly recognized his own voice. She stopped and straightened herself, then pulled him to her, his clothed body against her naked one. “Whatever you want.” Reaching up to his shirt, she began to unfasten the buttons. “Jess, I...” What could he say as she worked her fingers to peel away his shirt. She brushed those taught nipples against his chest hair, and he felt the heat from the contact. “Damn woman, those breasts are dangerous.” “How so?” she asked with a tilt of her head. Trailing his hands up her arms to her shoulders, pulling her closer, absorbing her inviting warmth, he brushed his lips against hers. “For a man like me, who happens to love a luscious pair of feminine breasts,” he explained as his hands cupped her globes, “you can make me come just by sliding me in between them.” “Want to?” “Come between your breasts? Hell, yes.” With a flick of his thumbs, he added, “But first I have to bury my penis in you again. Hard and fast.” He captured one of her hands and rested it on his length. “I’m so hard right now; you wouldn’t guess we’ve had sex already.” Then he added in a low husky voice, “I want to get inside your wet cunt, Jess, right now.” She gripped him and he moaned. “I want this now. Fuck me, cowboy.” Backing away, she lowered herself on the bed. Propping her body against some pillows, she sprawled out and opened her legs. Her labia gaped and glistened, inviting his gaze along with his cock. He struggled out of his pants and undergarments until he stood before her naked and hard. “Woman, I’m going to fuck you, and then I’m going to do it again.” He watched her touch her pink, swollen clit peeping from the folds of her center. He could see the evidence of his cum from the sex on the chair. Before the night was through, she’d be drowning in it. And she’d never let him go in the morning. **** She didn’t know the woman brazenly displaying her intimate body parts on the bed, but she liked the powerful sensations his appreciative look gave her. His eyes burned as he watched her touch herself, and she almost climaxed right then. What was it about this cowboy that made her act so...wanton? Dear Lord, just look at him, this was a gambler? His build was more like a ranch hand, tanned and hard. Each toned muscle flexed with power. He radiated strength and virility.

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And sex. He moved with the control and command of a man who worked long hours outside. If she hadn’t met him in the saloon at the game table, she could easily picture him atop a horse. Just the thought of his body outdoors made her honey flow as she envisioned all that sinew working, tanned skin glistening with sweat, and his light brown hair wet and slick with perspiration. And he’d have a lasso, too. She could think of a few things she’d offer for him to tie up. Damn, where are these fantasies taking me? This was a one-night affair…at least, that was what she had said. Now, she wasn’t so sure she wanted it to end. He crawled onto the bed and over her body. He was going to ram her. Thank goodness. Poising outside her cleft, his head slid through her folds. As it brushed against her sensitive nubbin, she moaned and her back arched upward, an involuntary plea for more. He captured her mouth in a deep, probing kiss as his cock plunged into her core. Once again, her body stretched and accepted his size. Oh, the joy of a well-endowed lover! None of her past affairs had ever made her feel full to the hilt. Then he began to move within her. His penis, every ridge and heated vessel, pumped in tempo with his thrusts, slowly in and out. Her pussy squeezed around him, then released, dancing to the beat of their mutual melody of passion. Not only did Wade have a fine tool, but he used it like a pro. She could feel his penis enter with each thrust, and it was as though he bonded directly to her soul, he was so deep within her. “Wade!” she called out as the first waves of her climax washed over her. Feeling him throughout her entire being, he filled her beyond her wildest dreams. “Baby, I’m coming, too. Oh, honey…” He spilled his seed in strong spurts. Tidal waves crashed and soaked her. She was drowning in their desire. Deep. These sensations were deeper than desire. They were stronger than lust, more powerful somehow. She didn’t want to examine her heart. Not now, while he pounded his meat deep within, spraying her with all he had. No, she’d think tomorrow. Tonight, she wanted to feel. Escape within his arms. Then maybe, before the sun rose, she’d ask Wade to stay. Stay for a lifetime. He watched her sleep for an hour, the steady rise and fall of her chest covered by the thin white sheet. All night they’d spent making love. It had gone beyond mere sex for him, but he wasn’t sure about how she had felt. They had talked between the frenzied matings, but she’d never asked him to stay. He wanted to be more to her than a fling, more than a bet paid in full. Paid in full? Damn, Wade got much more than he’d bargained for when he entered the poker game. He’d won a night with the black-haired beauty, but he’d lost his heart in the process. Now what? Dare he leave her behind without looking back? Could he even look in another saloon without thinking of her inviting lips calling for his kisses? Maybe it was time to change his life. What the hell had he done since the war? Lope around the country without a care or a plan. His older brother said Wade was welcome to help start a ranch down in Texas. Wade always did have a way with animals, especially horses. His post-war cavalry days at Fort Dodge were when he discovered his eye for fine horseflesh. Endless days of patrolling for Indians and providing protection to passing wagon trains was a grueling life, and he often wondered if he’d live through the next battle. He did survive and, because of last night, he was glad to be alive. For the first time in years, he was happy. All because of the woman curled up in bed before him. Jess deserved better than the life of a gambler. She needed security, a home, and a man to give it all to her. She should be taken care of like a queen—his Queen of Hearts.

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He was determined to do it for her. He was going to give it all to her, the woman who made him whole again. But would she take it from him? Silently, he gathered his things and dressed in the early morning light. As the sun began to rise over the horizon, Wade made a promise. “Jess, wherever you go, I’ll find you. I’m going to become a man you can be proud of, a man worthy of your love.” With that, he slipped out the door. Jess heard the soft click of the door, but was too exhausted to allow the sound to register in her brain. She drifted back to sleep in a beautiful haze of a strong man promising love and happiness. When she finally chased the fog from her brain, it was late morning. The sun peeked through the curtains and spread its warmth across the bed. Jess stirred and, with a sudden realization, she bolted up in bed. “Oh, no.” Wade was gone. She jumped out of bed and searched the room. Not a trace of him was left behind. Nothing but memories of a wild night of sex and passion. She sat down on the bed and tried to come to grips with the shock. He was gone. Gone. Gone. She hadn’t asked him to stay. All her plans had walked out when he left her behind. How could he just leave? Didn’t last night mean anything? Could it be he hadn’t felt the same inexplicable connection that she had? Tears welled in her eyes. No, she wouldn’t cry. Not over this. Not over a man. That man had awakened her sleeping soul, only to leave in the morning light. And without a word. Not even a goodbye. Tossing herself on the bed, she cried. Later, she would pack her things and find the gift Wade had left behind—the entire pot of riches from the game tucked into her reticule.

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CHAPTER THREE North Georgia, One Year Later

Jess sat out on the veranda of her newly finished house. She had been able to return home to Georgia and secure her family’s estate from the carpetbaggers. Set on rebuilding the house, even on a smaller scale, she threw herself into the plans, supervising the construction and replanting of the cotton fields. The cotton harvest this year would set her finances into the comfort zone for years to come. She imagined growing old on this land and never worrying about those years as a gambler. After Wade had left her that morning so long ago, she realized she could never remain in Dodge; not when everything there reminded her of the hot night in his arms. She found his winnings from the game and decided it was the most generous gesture he could’ve made. It wasn’t payment for the night—it was a gift. But why did he leave? And why didn’t he return? She stayed in Dodge for a few days as she planned her next move, all the while wishing the handsome gambler would sweep into the room and carry her away. Dreams and nonsense. She’d thought of him everyday since he’d walked out of her life, her yearning growing with each hour. She longed for his touch as well as his smile. Eventually, she was able to put a label to her pain—love. She’d fallen in love with her lover from a one-night encounter. That one night had changed her life, and she didn’t know how to rectify her mistake—letting him leave. She should’ve asked him to stay rather than falling asleep. If only she’d asked the moment she knew in her heart that he was the man for her. Returning home and rebuilding the plantation was a big job, and it eased some of the heartache. Her days were filled with plans, but the nights, when everything was quiet, gave her time to reflect, and regret slammed into her heart. Alone in bed, she imagined him by her side, his warmth wrapping her in love and acceptance. Only then could she find the salve to her painful wounds. The sun began to dip low behind the trees, painting the sky in bright hues of orange and red. Sipping her tea, she wished she could share the calm moment with Wade. The ghost of his memory was all she had to keep her company. “Miss, Cook said supper will be set out in fifteen minutes.” Frances, Jess’s housekeeper and her family’s former house slave, walked out onto the veranda. “Frances, come and sit with me. The sunset is too beautiful not to share.” Jess motioned to 11

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the chair next to her and watched the middle-aged servant sit with a sigh. “You’re right, Miss Jess. It is beautiful.” Frances had jumped at the chance when Jess had tracked her down to hire her on at the new Clayton plantation. She sat and mused at the scene in silence, then said, “You should share this with a young man, Miss Jess. Nothing is more beautiful than sharing such a sunset with a man you love. I don’t want to see you be lonely.” Laughing, Jess dismissed the woman’s concerns with a gentle wave of her hand. “Frances, you never stop worrying about me. I’m fine. I restored the land to its former glory and the first crop is about to come in. Why would I want a man?” “You don’t fool me, miss. I see the loneliness in your eyes. Or is it heartache?” Frances gazed into Jessie’s eyes and nodded. “There’s a man already in your heart.” “But not in my life.” “What happened?” Jess sat there for the next hour retelling the tale of her lost love. They put supper on hold as she unloaded her heavy heart. Somehow, it felt good just to tell someone her story. Frances would understand how a woman couldn’t deny her urges and desires, and, indeed, merely nodded in understanding when Jess revealed her secrets. No one suspected what had happened to Jess after she left Georgia when her family died. It was best if they never knew. She was certain she could trust Frances never to tell the story to anyone. Having grown up with the woman in the household most of Jess’ life, Frances was more of a mother figure, true family, than a paid servant. “Miss Jess, I know someday that young man will come looking for you. I just know it.” “I hope so, Frances. I really do.” **** Wade rode into Atlanta, a bustling town, rebuilt after the destruction from the war. Activity was everywhere, and the building was still in full swing. He had been to town years before the war, but now it was bigger. He felt small amid so much traffic and noise. That was the sort of life he hadn’t been exposed to for a year when he’d decided to get his life together and make himself a man. No more wandering. He had left Jess behind in Dodge City with a purse-full of money to ensure her comfort until he could come back and look for her. Only he’d never expected her to leave Dodge. After riding hard and fast up from his ranch in Texas, he was disappointed that he could not find her anywhere. It had only been two months since that night they’d shared. It had taken him ten more months to track her down. Who would have thought the name Jess Clayton was so common? Then he stumbled across a man from Georgia. Hadn’t Jess mentioned she was from there? He remembered she had, and besides, her accent was unmistakable. But he didn’t know why she would go back after everything was destroyed during the war. The man, Timothy Denton, mentioned a woman buying up some land that had once belonged to her family. The news wasn’t too unusual, but when Denton said she was a blackhaired beauty with sparkling sapphire eyes by the name of Clayton, Wade knew it was his Jess. Unfortunately, Denton was scum, and a drunken one at that. He couldn’t remember many particulars to the transaction. He mentioned Atlanta, so Wade saddled up and raced east to the city. Climbing off his weary bay, Wade tied the horse to a hitching post outside the general store. If anyone knew Jess, they’d know her here.

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“Add twenty pounds of flour to my order, Mr. Jackson. We’re low and I’d hate to run out.” “Fine, Frances—” “Excuse me,” Wade broke in. “I’m here looking for someone. Think you can give me some information if you recognize her name?” The storekeeper, an older gentleman with white hair and pale skin to match his gaunt frame, nodded. “Of course, young man. What’s your name, stranger, and where you from?” “I’m from Texas. I own a ranch down there. My name is Wade Hampton.” The large, black woman dressed in calico, and sporting a red crocheted shawl, began to cough. “Lady, you okay?” Wade wasn’t sure what had brought on the coughing fit. “Hampton?” she asked as she regained her composure. “Hampton? You by chance pass through Dodge City about a year ago?” He straightened. “Yes, I did. Why?” He stood in silence as she beamed up at him. “I know who you’re looking for.” **** Jess sat out by the small pond on the plantation just within view of the house. It was still strange to see a small house in the spot where her parents’ home once stood. Her house was a smaller version of their grand estate mansion, with only three bedrooms compared to the twenty guest bedrooms, fully stocked library, spiral staircase and crystal chandeliers. But she was proud of her small home, and felt more comfortable there than in the former glorious mansion. This was truly home, at last. But how comfortable was home when love was nowhere within its walls? She pictured children running through the halls, or perhaps splashing about and laughing in the pond before her. Of course, a man of tall stature and a warm smile stood by her side and held her around the waist, watching them play. Her family. It was nothing but a fantasy. Wade was gone, leaving her with only the memories of his kisses to keep her company through the years. No other man could light the fire in her soul like he had. Neither had any one made her dream of a life with a family—one she now desperately wished for—come true. The creaking of carriage wheels on the stony drive drew her out of her daydreams. The horses’ hooves beat against the ground announcing the return of Frances from her trip to Atlanta for some supplies. Jess wondered if she should’ve accompanied the woman into town just to escape for a few hours from her personal hell. Turning her head to the approaching group, Jess noticed a figure atop a great chestnut horse riding beside the carriage. Then he saw her. Kicking his mount, he galloped in her direction across the grass, sod flying up under the horse’s charging stride. Her breath caught as she recognized Wade. She staggered to her feet in disbelief. How could this be? Wade was there? It had to be a mirage brought on by loneliness. Perhaps she was asleep by the pond, dreaming of her knight racing across the grounds to her. He pulled on the reins and jolted the horse to an abrupt stop. He dismounted and stepped towards her. Her entire body was shaking. “Jess,” he whispered as he stopped a breath away from her. This was no dream. Dressed in a dark brown suit and a Stetson, Wade was very much a flesh

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and blood man. His scent of sweat and spice filled her senses. She reached out her hand to touch his face. “Wade.” He caught her hand with his, warm flesh wrapping about her fingers, enclosing her soul with security and happiness. “I looked for you. I couldn’t live without you.” “I thought about you everyday,” she admitted, unafraid of his reaction. It was time for truth. “So did I. Life seemed so empty without having you with me.” She closed her eyes and absorbed him as he embraced her into his strong arms. “Wade, I shouldn’t have let you leave that morning.” “I shouldn’t have gone.” He tipped up her face to his and added, “Nothing will make me ever leave you behind again. I love you, Jessica Clayton.” “I love you too, Wade.” She leaned up for a kiss, but it didn’t come. “You know, something is wrong with this.” “What?” “You should be Jessica Hampton.” He smiled and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Please, tell me you’ll marry me and make me the happiest man in the world.” “Yes, Wade. I want to marry you.” Finally, he brushed his lips over hers, and Jess felt complete for the first time since they’d parted a year ago. As his tongue glided over hers and she drank in their shared love, she realized her dreams would one day come true. **** The next day, Jess stood in her best gown in her parlor at Wade’s side. The local reverend had agreed to join them as husband and wife even with such short notice. Seeing them together, none could deny the love that shone so brightly in their eyes. Frances organized the entire small ceremony and the upcoming celebration afterward. She seemed especially pleased to know she had helped bring Jess and Wade back together. “I couldn’t be happier than I am now, Miss Jess,” she had said when she helped Jess fix her veil into place. Jess stole a glance at her friend, as the ceremony was underway. She would’ve been lost without Frances. Jess was ecstatic Frances had agreed to travel with them when they went to Texas. Since both Jess and Wade owned property, they planned to spend half the year in Texas, then the second half in Georgia. They would have the best of both worlds. After their vows, they were proclaimed husband and wife. Wade lifted the veil from her face and said with a smile, “Ante up, Mrs. Hampton.”

THE END

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About the Author Marianne LaCroix Multi-published author Marianne LaCroix lives in the American south in the land of cotton and mint juleps. She’s an active member of the RWA in the ESPAN, GothRom, Passionate Ink, and First Coast Romance Writers chapters. She has had several recognitions for her writing, including a Romantic Times BOOKClub Reviewer’s Choice nomination. Her tastes run to the alpha male with a dark streak in the form of a vampire, shape-shifter, or other tortured-soul type. When not writing or creating a piece of digital art, Mari can be found with her twin toddler girls, and her husband of eleven and half years. Visit Mari online at:

http://www.mariannelacroix.com

Our authors love to hear from their readers! You can write to Marianne here: Marianne LaCroix c/o Chippewa Publishing LLC P.O. Box 662 Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin 54729

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Lady Aibell Press http://www.ladyaibell.com a division of Chippewa Publishing LLC Catching Your Dreams of Fiction! http://www.chippewapublishing.com

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