With these words she stepped forward to engage her host in a hug of warm gratitude; once again wrapping her arms around his muscled shoulders and leaning into his hard planed body.
“You—you’re just a gift,” she told him, voice barely above a whisper as she savored the divine feel of his strong sturdy hands clasped around her slender waist. “I can’t thank you enough, Clayton.”
Her host said nothing for a moment, only clutched her to him as he cradled her soft and sweet in his muscular arms; resting his head in her neck as he inhaled the scent of ebony hair washed in lush streams of lilac shampoo.
“Forgive my boldness Ma’am,” he whispered in her ear, adding as he pulled her closer still, “Yet personally I cannot wait for the day that I can welcome you into my master chamber—the day that we can become husband and wife, in truth.”
With these words he drew back on impulse, staring deep into her eyes before claiming her lips in a warm, affectionate kiss.
Rubbing his full warm lips against hers in soft and loving strokes, he kissed her warm and sweet as his arms encompassed her in an embrace that seemed to liken a binding cocoon of pure and free flowing feeling.
Leaning into his kiss, MariAnne arched her feathered eyebrows as she savored the divine sensation of her first true kiss; one offered to her as a gesture of love, not seized as hard currency—forcibly taken as a payment for the room and board supplied at the hands of her domineering husband.
This kiss, by contrast, was one she savored and enjoyed; reveling in its subtle but evident passion as the couple sank together in encompassing arms.
She moaned in protest moments later as her gentlemanly host broke their kiss; stepping away from her even as their gazes remained locked and his hands touched and massaged her tired shoulders.
“I’d best be retirin’ to bed,” he released on a whisper, leaving her with a smile of good night before turning for the door.
Following this advice herself moments later, MariAnne retired to the comforting sheets of her beautiful new bed; imagining their cottony fabrics as the arms of her kind host as they supported and succored her delicate form.
“All that I wanted when I came here this evening was a safe place to go, a place to shelter my child and myself—to get a bit of rest as I decided just what it is I wished to do with the rest of my life.” She paused here, adding as she nestled deep in the comfort of her own personal refuge, “And now I know.”
Chapter five
The break of a brilliant, sun drenched Texas dawn found MariAnne heading with purposeful steps into the fields of the ranch she regarded as her new place of business.
“I know my way around a ranch,” she mused, her purposeful hands straightening the folds of her blue denim dress and cocking the brim of her practical wicker sun hat. “And I aim to make this one a success.”
Just before dawn she had made the acquaintance of the ever gentle Clara, Clayton’s mother and a petite brunette who regarded her with sleepy eyes and a prim, gentile smile.
“Good mornin’, Miss MariAnne,” she greeted her, adding as she engaged her in a cordial handshake, “I’m Clara, Clayton’s ma. I simply cannot wait to get to know you and your little one.”
As if on cue a spirited, well rested Ellie raced headfirst into the clean lined, sun drenched kitchen that distinguished the far corner of Clayton’s ranch house; racing headfirst into the waiting arms of a welcoming, chuckling Clara.
“Good mornin’, Miss Wonderful Woman Who Has Been Carelessly and Cruelly Pulled from Her Bed at the Crack of Dawn to Care for a Child She’s Never Met,” MariAnne returned with a smirk, adding as she pumped the hand of a laughing Clara with no small degree of aplomb, “If you have not yet earned your place in Heaven, Ma’am, then rest assured—that particular place will be good and secured by the time this day is done.”
Clara guffawed outright, a familiar pair of sea blue eyes crinkling adorable with the effect.
“I like her already,” she told a smiling Clayton, clad today in a sculpting pair of ultra-tight blue jeans and a smart white cotton shirt.
Nodding in immediate agreement with his mother’s assertion, the rancher now moved forward to claim the hand of his beloved new guest.
“So do I,” Clayton assured his ma, squeezing MariAnne’s fingers as he led her to the double front, brass knobbed doors that would lead them to their daily work space. “Believe me Ma, so do I.”
Soon the joyful couple ran hand in hand across the length of a lush emerald leaved meadow; arriving finally at a field that seemed to boast the ranch’s signature crop.