This Calder Range Read Free Page B

blue ribbon swept the length of her long dark hair away from her face and left it to cascade in soft curls down her back. She was likespring, fresh and innocent in her long dress of white cotton with small blue flowers.
    The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Her brown eyes sparkled with the pleasure of seeing him. “I thought it was you.” Her voice sang to him.
    His eyes drank in the essence of her like a thirsty man long without water. He’d forgotten what a little thing she was. Not so little, perhaps, Benteen corrected as his gaze noticed her firm young breasts pushing at the demure front of her gown that covered her all the way to her neck.
    â€œWhere have you been?” she asked as she scanned his haggard and disreputable appearance. “I was beginning to worry about you. The others came back from the drive months ago. Where have you been all this time?”
    A surging warmth gentled his rough features. Benteen stroked her smooth cheek with his forefinger, wanting to do more than just touch her. “You sound just like a wife already,” he teased softly. He was conscious of his trail grime and unshaven face. The public street didn’t make this meeting any easier.
    His remark made Lorna lower her gaze, betraying her excited shyness. At times, Lorna Pearce seemed to be a living contradiction. There was a Madonna-like quality to her features, yet her brown eyes could be bold and spirited, revealing an intelligence that she usually concealed in a womanly fashion. She was sometimes as gay and full of laughter as a young girl, and other times, very calm and self-confident. At the moment, she looked incredibly young—too young to be a wife; but she was seventeen, soon to be eighteen, definitely a marriageable age.
    She slanted him a look, a sauciness behind her proper air. “If I were your wife, Chase Benteen Calder, I’d take after you with a rolling pin for being away so long without writing me a single word.”
    He chuckled softly at the threat, not believing she was capable of anything that remotely resembled violence.His features were so solidly composed that when he smiled, the change in his expression was always complete and surprising. He looked over at the shop she’d come out of. “What are you doing here?” Her father’s general store—Pearce’s Emporium—was several blocks down the street. “Spending your father’s money on another hat?”
    â€œNo. I’m waiting to spend your money,” Lorna retorted. “I was visiting a friend.” She glanced toward the door, where a rather plain brown-haired girl was standing. “You remember Sue Ellen, don’t you? We went to school together,” she reminded him, and discreetly motioned for her girlfriend to come forward. “Her mother owns the millinery shop.”
    The girl approached them timidly. “Hello, Mr. Calder,” she greeted him in a slightly breathless voice.
    â€œBenteen,” he corrected, and wondered what the two girls had in common, besides Miss Hilda’s School for Young Ladies. “How are you, Sue Ellen?”
    â€œFine, thank you,” she murmured, barely opening her mouth.
    Lorna confidently faced him and challenged, “You still haven’t told me where you’ve been all this time.”
    â€œIt’s a long story. I’ll come by the house tonight and we’ll talk.” He rubbed a hand over his chin, whiskers scraping his rough palm. “Right now, I need a shave and a bath.”
    â€œCome for dinner,” Lorna invited.
    â€œSix o’clock?” That was the usual time the Pearce family dined.
    â€œYes,” she nodded.
    The smile he gave Lorna was for her alone, but he turned and politely touched the brim of his hat in deference to her girlfriend. His stride wasn’t quite so heavy when he continued down the street.
    The first time he’d seen her was two years ago in her