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Trail of Seduction [MultiFormat]
eBook by D. Musgrave
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eBook Category: Erotica/Romance
eBook Description:  The Frontier Wife and the Cowboy! In this highly erotic western romance set in the 1850's, Kathleen, trapped in an abusive frontier marriage with a violent, controlling husband, struggles to keep her spirit and hopes unbroken. Then the tall, silent, gentle Vance rides into town and into her life. When he sees how Kathleen's husband, Boyd mistreats her, Vance agrees to help her escape. With only her brutal husband as a tutor in love, Kathleen has learned to hate sex, but as she and Vance travel together, she experiences physical stirrings that both frighten and thrill her. Seeking shelter in an Apache village, they find Boyd's mutilated body, his punishment for the crime of raping an Apache maid. Free from the guilt of adultery, Kathleen quenches her passion for Vance, and discovers their desire is mutual. At first, the two can not get enough of each other, but when a lover's quarrel separates them, Kathleen finds herself alone in a mining camp threatened with gang rape by the sex-starved miners. Saved by Vance's deadly gunfire, Kathleen tells Vance she loves him, and the two engage in heated, passionate lovemaking. However, the next day, a wagon train filled with mail-order brides creates further misunderstanding as well as an opportunity for Kathleen to learn a "few tricks of the trade" to keep her man happy. When Vance proposes marriage, she must decide whether it's truly love or gratitude she feels for the man who has aroused her sexuality, and whether she is ready to commit herself to life with another man of the frontier. Threatened, lonely and in love, Kathleen learns she must overcome the wounds of her past if she is to forge a future with the man she loves.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler, Published: 2006
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2006
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [748 KB], eReader (PDB) [144 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [127 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [114 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [139 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [175 KB], hiebook (KML) [340 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [198 KB], iSilo (PDB) [105 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [131 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [173 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [168 KB]
Words: 40559
Reading time: 115-162 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
 
CHAPTER 1Her back ached so much that she was barely able to drag the last sack of grain from the stables to the waiting wagon. The unrelenting sun beat down on the back of her neck, draining the strength from her body. Kathleen stopped next to the wagon and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Her sweat-soaked dress clung to her skin, making her uncomfortable and cranky. She glanced toward the shaded bench in front of the livery. Boyd sprawled out, fanning himself and watching her. The lazy bastard grinned, seeing her struggle to heft the sack of grain into the wagon. Ignoring him, Kathleen stared for a moment at her callused hands and broken nails. Once, they'd been soft and beautifully kept, before she'd sinned, before her father married her off to the first man he found who wasn't too proud to take her. Sure, Boyd hadn't been too proud to take second-hand merchandise, especially when it was accompanied by a goodly sum of John Mandler's money. Boyd had made a hell of a deal. That's what he kept telling anyone who'd listen. There'd been enough money to buy a livery stable, as well as damaged goods to work it for him. How long had she been his slave? There was no way for her to tell the exact day. She did keep close enough tabs to know it was July 1855. Next month would be the third August she'd slaved for Boyd in La Plata. The bastard loved to lord the sins of her youth over her. He demeaned her sexually; he beat her and talked about her to the whole town. However, if he thought he could ever make her accept him as her 'lord and master' he had another thing coming. Kathleen Lyle gritted her teeth, jerked the bag off the ground, and heaved it into the wagon. Not a day went by that she didn't remember the passion she'd shared with her young lover. There were too many lonely hours to remember how it had been with Johnny. Lately though, her weary body had refused to respond to the memories of those treasured moments. Yet, those moments were all that kept her going. Boyd seldom talked to her unless he had to. On weekends, when the rowdy cowhands came to town raising hell, Boyd made her spend the long hours alone in the livery, tending his business. She could think all she wanted, but was never allowed to rest. Her life had become: clean the stable, shovel dung, feed and water, and currycomb horses. She'd work until long after midnight, when the last drunken cowboy picked up his mount. Only then, could she sink into a deep sleep for a couple of hours. Most of the time, she slept on the hay, preferring that, to crawling into bed with the stinking, snoring Boyd. She reentered the dim stable. It was early for the evening feed, but she didn't care. Kathleen mechanically filled feedbags and slipped them over the horse's ears. Boyd charged extra for currying, but she was so tired--if she could wash, it might perk her up a bit. If Boyd had fallen asleep on the bench again, maybe she could slip around back and sponge herself off without him realizing she was gone. Peeking through the stable doors, she could see his head tipped back, mouth gaping open, snoring loudly. Heart racing, she sped through the stable and out the back door. Dashing across the dirt yard, Kathleen rushed into the shack Boyd said was too good for the likes of her. No longer bothering with small clothes, she stripped in seconds. In this heat, the less clothes the better. She poured cold water into the wash pan and washed her body with a scrap of cloth. In five minutes, she was clean and felt halfway human again. She slipped a fresh dress over her head before scurrying back to the livery stable. It was Friday, and she prayed Boyd wouldn't make her stay at the stable until the saloon closed. She'd had a total of sixteen hours sleep in the last few days. Though Boyd didn't care about her, he just might care about keeping her in working condition. Maybe, if she approached him in a logical manner, not expecting sympathy, he'd see reason. Most likely, he'd ignore her, go right on to the saloon, and get drunk. From the humid darkness of the stables, Kathleen heard the clip-clop of horses approaching and sighed wearily. The cowboys were coming in early tonight. No use waiting for Boyd to take care of a customer, he'd just call her to do it anyway. Kathleen sluggishly moved to the door, expecting to find the usual rowdy ranch hand. She froze in the doorway as she looked up. A man she'd never seen before, sitting tall in the saddle and wearing a gray Stetson low over his eyes, moved as one with a big black stallion. Kathleen felt something stir deep inside her as she looked at his wide shoulders. She heard Boyd snort and knew he was awake, but she couldn't drag her eyes from the stranger. He drew the stallion up a couple of feet from her. "Ma'am," he drawled in a deep rich voice, politely touching the dusty brim of his hat to her before tilting it back. Kathleen felt something akin to shock. The sound of his voice seemed to echo inside her, shaking her. His dark eyes, in the chiseled ruggedness of his face, held her full attention. Kathleen smiled. It had been a long time since a man had tipped his hat to her, or looked at her like that. "Like to stable your horse?" She reached out and stroked the big beast's muzzle, but her eyes never left the man. "Stop gawkin' slut an' take the man's hoss!" Boyd growled, springing to his feet and raising a threatening hand to her. It was the first time in a long while that Kathleen's cheek stung hot with embarrassment at Boyd's humiliating treatment. She felt it was important that this stranger think highly of her. Kathleen didn't know the reason why. As usual, Boyd had bared her soul and advertised her shame. She resented it, but she couldn't do anything about it. "Whoa there fella," the stranger drawled, as he swung one long, lean leg across the saddlebags and hit the ground. "I was speaking to the lady, and I don't take kindly to being interrupted when I'm talking." He stared coldly at Boyd. Kathleen sensed the quiet strength in the man. He was self-confident, sure of himself. There was also a hard ruthlessness about him. He wouldn't be pushed. Evidently, Boyd, shooting off his mouth, had riled him. Boyd turned sunset red. He was no fool and no gunfighter either. He'd seen the Colt strapped to the stranger's hip. In a fearful effort to appease, Boyd said, "Didn't mean to butt in. Gotta watch her ever minute." He spat tobacco juice into the dust with contempt. "Hell, she ain't no lady anyways. The whore's my wife." He stuck out his barrel chest importantly and hooked his thumbs into his hip pockets. "Don't let her talk to no one 'less I say so." A muscle twitched in the stranger's jaw. "I don't bed my horse where I can't leave instructions for his care." He lifted the reins from Kathleen's hand and touched the brim of his hat again. "Ma'am." "Now, don't be rushin'," Boyd whined, backtracking fast, fearful of losing the stable fees. "I ain't said you cain't talk to her. Jest go ahead an' tell her what's to be done. She'll take care of this hoss of yours real good like." To Kathleen's surprise, the stranger looked from her to Boyd and back again. Then, he placed the stallion's reins in her hand. "What's your name?" His question startled Kathleen. She stared up at his face and felt her skin blush hotly. None of the cowboys had ever had the common decency to ask for her name. "Kathleen Mandler ... err ... Kathleen Lyle." "Kathleen." He offered his hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you. I'm Vance Stone. Just feed and water. I'll be back to check on Black Jack later. I like to rub him down myself." Kathleen nodded. She felt that the man sensed her fatigue, and was trying to spare her extra work. He tipped his hat again and turned away, his boot heels banging on the weathered buckboards of the sidewalk as he strode away. She stared at his long legs as the muscles under the dusty denim flexed with each step. The horse snorted and brought her out of her reverie. She led the huge Morgan inside, chiding herself for being a fool. Boyd followed her into the dim interior. "Get yerself to the house and fix my supper, you prancin' bitch! Then get yer tail back here 'til the saloon closes." Boyd's beady, hateful eyes watched her guide the horse into an empty stall. "If you don't let me rest, I'm going to be no good to you at all," she said quietly, unemotionally. "Couldn't you tend to business tonight so I can get some sleep?" "You ungrateful bitch! I married you after you slept with another man and shamed yer folks! Yer nothin' but dog shit and it's time you larned to be grateful that I let you work here and eat at my table!" "Daddy paid you for that right!" she spat, hating him with her whole being. "Are you too stupid to realize that I can't work day and night, without food and sleep?" Boyd drew back his fist and hit her. Pain flashed through her head. It got dark, and sparkles of light whirled around her. All at once, the lights went out. Kathleen was unconscious when she hit the floor. * * * *Then, she was awake. A dark shape was bending over her. Kathleen cried out, thinking it was Boyd, meaning to hit her again. "What in tarnation are you doing sleeping in the middle of a dirt floor when you got all this hay lying around?" Recognizing the stranger's voice, Kathleen groaned. Her head hurt terribly. She examined her aching face gently with her fingers. Her eye felt swollen and it was sore as a boil. So was her jaw. She'd kill Boyd, the first chance she got, even if they hung her for it. "Are you sick?" "Hurt," she mumbled weakly. "Stay there." He found a lantern, lit it, and returned, holding it close to her face. "Jesus Christ! What happened? Who did this?" His big fingers gently probed for broken bones but found none. Even hurting as bad as she was, his tender touch sent an unexpected jolt through her that had nothing to do with pain. Startled, Kathleen darted a glance at his shadowed face. His eyes were fixed on hers, and there was a look of amazement on his face. He'd felt it too. The handsome stranger drew his hand away from her face as if he'd been burnt, and stood. After a moment, he offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet. "Reckon nothing's broke." Even then, she could feel the warmth of his body reaching out to her. Instinctively, Kathleen took a step back, and tried to ignore his extraordinary masculine appeal. "Who hit you?" Kathleen sighed. Her life was an open book. She might as well tell him. He could ask anyone in town and hear the sordid tale anyway. "Boyd, my husband," she replied angrily. "Why?" The word was almost a demand. "I-I talked back to him." "That must've been some back talk. What led you to marry a rattler like that anyway?" Kathleen cast a surprised look at the stranger. He sounded like he was on her side. "Boyd makes sure everybody knows; you may as well too. My daddy wanted to be rid of me. I was an embarrassment. Boyd is my punishment." "I take it you did what most young women do, only you got caught." Her laughter was a mixture of bitterness and relief. She'd finally run across somebody who wasn't a hypocrite. This man didn't seem to think what she'd done was such a sin. Why should it be? Her mother, her father, her sisters, and her brothers all do it. Yet, because she'd done it out of wedlock, they cast her out like a leper. "Where's your husband now?" "Most likely at the saloon getting drunk and bragging about the deal he made with my father." "You'd better go on home and take care of that bruise." "I can't. He makes me stay here in the stable until all the horses have been picked up." "Every night?" She nodded. His voice was soft and gentle. "And on top of that, you slave for him all day too?" Again, Kathleen nodded. How she wished her father had bought her a man like Vance. In her heart, she knew that men like this were never for sale, at any price. Suddenly, she found herself struggling to hold back tears, to no avail. To her embarrassment, she felt a tattletale tear slide down her cheek, with another in hot pursuit. Boyd had never succeeded in making her cry. Yet here she was, before this stranger, with tears running down her face. "Do you intend on being his slave for the rest of your life, or have you had enough?" It was a fair question. "I've had more than enough!" she cried bitterly. "When are you riding out? Can I ride along with you? I promise I won't be any trouble. I can take care of myself." His eyes narrowed in speculation. Her heart pounded at her brazenness. She waited, scared he'd say yes, and afraid he'd say no. He said nothing, just continued to stare at her. Embarrassed, she started to back away, determined that if he wouldn't take her along, she'd go alone. "Got to admit, you'd make a mighty nice traveling companion. I've never stolen a man's wife before. It'll be a hard trip. All I can promise is that you won't starve." Her eyes focused on his, to see if he was sincere. He looked serious enough. "That is, if you wouldn't feel compromised, riding out alone, with me." She laughed and sobbed at the same time. "I've been compromised enough. I don't think another time will make any difference." Suddenly, Kathleen sobered. "You're serious, aren't you? Do you really mean that you'll take me with you?" He nodded his head. "You ready?" "Now?" "Best time in the world. You said your husband's likely getting drunk." He made it sound so simple, so easy. Her heartbeat sped up so much, she thought she was going to faint. It was happening so fast. Kathleen knew this chance might never come again. She thought about staying here with Boyd for the rest of her life and made her decision. "I'm ready," she said her voice shaky. "Good girl. Pick out his best horse and saddle it. Meantime, I'll collect my supplies from the shopkeeper and be back shortly. If anybody comes, act like you always do." After he'd gone, Kathleen wondered if she'd dreamt him and his offer out of loneliness and desperation. The mind could play some very cruel tricks. She'd never stolen a horse and felt strange about it. Saddling the beast, she kept asking herself if she knew what she was doing. They hung horse thieves! She thought to herself, 'What if he doesn't come back?' Stony hearted, she stubbornly told herself that if he didn't come back, she'd just ride out on her own. Remembering the old clothes hanging on nails along the back wall, Kathleen carried the lantern to the far end of the stable. She grabbed a tattered old jacket and rolled it into a blanket before strapping the roll behind the saddle of Boyd's mare, Walnut. There was an old pair of boots that someone had left months ago and never bothered to claim. She slipped one on. It was far too big, but would be better than the little day shoes she wore. They were the last remaining pair she'd brought with her. She knew that Boyd would never buy her sturdier shoes when these wore out. Suddenly, the thought of taking care of herself and being alone hit her hard. She nearly lost her resolve to run away with, or without, the cowboy. How would she buy shoes and clothes for herself? For that matter, how would she eat? The stranger could hunt game for them to eat along the trail. Then what? Kathleen quaked, thinking of what the future held for her. She felt that the stranger was a man to be trusted. However, she could hardly expect anything more of him once they reached their destination, wherever that was. Irritated by her cowardice, Kathleen thought nothing could possibly be worse than staying here with Boyd, even starvation. She grabbed a beat up old hat from a nail and stuffed her hair up inside it. Grubby it might be, but it would keep her brains from getting sun baked. "Try these," the stranger said, striding into the stable looking cool and collected. He handed her some clothes. She jumped and nearly ran for the back on the stable. "Where did you get these?" She eyed the britches and shirt. "Clothes line." Kathleen laughed and slipped into an empty stall. Quickly, she changed and stepped out again. He drawled, "It's fit for traveling, but I'd prefer you in a dress." He chuckled when he realized she was embarrassed by his observation. "Let's go lady."
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