Bewitching Bret

  Bewitching Bret

  Big Sky Boys Book Three

  Cheri Chaise

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events, businesses, institutions or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Cheri Chaise. All rights reserved.

  Woman on the Chaise Publications

  No part of this publication may be used, stored, reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by copyright law. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Manufactured in the United States

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Epilogue

  Other Works by Cheri

  Want More?

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Estella

  Life is full of twists and turns. Like a winding trail through the mountains, you never know what will come upon you from around every bend until it is nearly too late to avoid a tumble.

  Or like tapestry weaving, you never know what the threads will reveal until it is staring you in the face from the loom.

  Not that I’d had much time to weave these days, mind you. The three children I’d borne on Carston Ranch kept me mighty busy. And with four hungry men to feed along with said children, I’d begun to spend a good portion of my life in the kitchen.

  With my oldest rapidly approaching schooling age, I worried anew how I would manage it all.

  Especially with more little ones on the way.

  Oh, my husbands would help with educating our brood. Of that I had no doubt. But they were already busy from sunup to sundown taking care of the various needs of the ranch. Winter kept us together inside more, but even with the additional rooms added to our log home nearly three years ago, there were still animals to attend to.

  Colts, calves, and piglets for Bret to birth.

  Wild animals for Evan to trap and hides to tan.

  Cattle for Cole to feed and protect from predators across our vast acreage.

  Furniture for Drew to build.

  Matter of fact, young Drew’s skills were so growing in demand these days, he’d yet to finish building the bedroom set for my four-year-old so we could move her from the nursery to her own room upstairs.

  He’d even started drawing up plans for a brand new house. A real home like what I’d become accustomed to in my years growing up in Maryland. A home with a dedicated library, sitting and living rooms, plenty of bedrooms – and a large kitchen.

  I knew it was a pipe dream, but I loved Drew all the more for even thinking he’d have the time someday to build it. But oh, it didn’t stop me from dreaming of using that sitting room as a schoolhouse.

  Even though I still didn’t know how I’d squeeze an education into our busy lives.

  I should have realized then that the road of life was about to curve. Take us around a bend that promised either relief.

  Or certain death.

  ~~~

  The stars still hung in the September sky as I stepped out onto the front porch and carefully closed the door behind me to avoid waking the children. Twinkles were always more brilliant in the chill air, going on forever as the darkness surrounded the brothers at work near the barn.

  My legal husband Cole hitched up the wagon in the dim lantern light with his brother Evan’s help. With a pat and rub of flanks and muzzles, Bret strapped the harnesses to the horse team.

  Once they were finished, they helped the youngest load several furniture pieces into the wagon bed. Drew’s talents with woodworking were on display all across the Carston homestead, and he was quickly making a name for himself far outside the Montana Territory.

  I tucked the colorful quilt and a thick feather pillow under my arm then stepped from the porch. The dusty yard was currently devoid of pecking chickens and even my skirts didn’t impede the rush toward my men. My four strong, handsome, and loving men.

  The five years since I’d made the arduous journey from back east all the way out to the Montana plain had flown by, but I still remembered the difficulties all too well. I’d never realized when the passage west had started that the hot train ride to St. Louis was to be the easy part.

  The steamboat up the Missouri had been fraught with untold dangerous. After all, an unaccompanied lady confined to a small boat full of men on an enormous river for weeks on end was a temptation that brought about many a harrowing experience.

  Thank goodness for Mr. Stubbs. The old railway speculator had seen to my protection, making his way farther upriver to Fort Union than his plans originally called for simply to ensure I was safely delivered to my intended.

  But that last leg to Carston Ranch was the most difficult of all, because it had involved sleeping in a hard wagon bed under the chilly night sky. That big, Montana sky that stretched on and on and still took my breath away.

  Every. Single. Time.

  Though more likely that was the corset that had felt as if it slowly squeezed me in half over the course of the long and never-ending week of dips and divots we encountered along the prairie trail.

  This time, however, I wasn’t going to merely stand by and allow such silent suffering the slightest opportunity to manifest.

  “Here,” I said, handing over my burden to Cole. “Make sure these stay clean and dry.”

  Deep green eyes glittered in the lamplight. “Dry I can manage. Clean after two days on a dusty trail?” He leaned over to kiss me hard with full, eager lips then pulled away with a wink and a playful pinch to my backside. “For you, wife, I’ll do my best.”

  Even though the oldest Carston man had his playful and tender moments, he could be a hard taskmaster when his purposes clashed with others. But that drive to see a job through to completion was what kept this ranch going. It’s what allowed the addition to the log house a few years ago to be completed before winter set in fully and our twin boys were born.

  Cole had been bound and determined to fulfill a promise he’d made to me in the first year of our marriage – and was only one of the things that had endeared him to me forever, despite his tendency to bark and order everyone around.

  Over the years, I’d simply decided
what directives I was and wasn’t willing to abide by and responded accordingly. Deep down inside, I do believe my standing up to him at times made him all the more desirous of me and the bountiful curves of my body.

  Which always made it more difficult whenever Cole had to leave me behind as they headed off to town.

  I placed my hand on his forearm to stop him from turning aside and stared into those glittering eyes illuminated by the lantern hanging from the wagon. “It’s not just for me, Cole. Please promise me you’ll take good care of her.”

  The hard lines around his mouth and eyes softened. “I promise I’ll guard your sister with my life.”

  “That goes without saying, husband. It’s part of your nature to protect.” I pressed my cheek against his broad chest and wrapped my arms around his hard-muscled form. “Just promise you’ll also see to her comforts. It’s difficult riding in that wagon for days on end and sleeping under the stars.”

  “It’ll only be a couple of days, Stella. Not a week like it was for you.”

  I sighed, breathing deep of the scents of sweet hay and musk that always enveloped him. “But even a couple of days will feel like a week…or longer.” I pulled back and stared up at his chiseled chin and traced the planes of his stubbled cheek. “Abby’s not like me.”

  A wry grin spread across his face. “You mean she won’t have nineteen trunks for me to haul across the plain?”

  “Of course not. She’s only coming for a visit.” I smacked his firm chest. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

  “How can I?” he laughed aloud before kissing me soundly again. “Especially after the way you fought for every single one.”

  An argument I’d never forget. “Just don’t hit every rock and washout on your way home. Abby’s quite…delicate.”

  Refined. Proper. Obedient. Everything that I never was, even when I’d dressed in the same silks and lace of the day’s fashions. Oh, how I’d changed since that time.

  And how much richer and happier my life had become since these four Carston men had taken in this withered flower and nurtured her into a blossoming rose.

  Cole tucked my body against his warmth, laying his chin atop my head. “We will take it slow and easy. I will personally make certain she remains as comfortable as we can make her on the trail.”

  “Thank you.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “Abby’s all I’ve got left now.”

  And me her, which was the only reason she would ever consider making such a difficult trip all the way to the ranch. A terrible carriage accident in Washington DC had stolen her husband away a little more than a year ago now. Then only recently our father had succumbed to a debilitating illness that had ravaged his heart and lungs.

  After the manner in which we’d parted five years before, I still wasn’t certain how to feel about his passing. My father had treated me as if I were dead to him long before I’d left the comforts of the east for the wild western frontier. Even since my arrival at Carston Ranch, he’d never once written to see after my health or those of his grandchildren.

  Not even when Mrs. Barker, the long-time Davies family cook, had told me she’d informed him herself when she’d received my letter announcing the twins arrival almost three years before.

  All of which prompted my sister’s uncharacteristic decision to travel all this way for a visit. My delicate and quite proper in the eyes of society, little sister.

  “Your sister’s not the only one you have left, you know.” The space between Cole and I grew. “You have the four of us as your family now too.”

  “And three noisy kids,” Drew tossed in with a feigned groan.

  That near-constant grin always gave the youngest Carston brother away though. He might complain on occasion, but Drew loved being an uncle. I looked forward to the day that I could make him a father just as I had two of his brothers thus far.

  Bret came over and placed his hand on the tiny bump that wasn’t yet visible from beneath my skirts and whispered in my ear. “With another one on the way.”

  I placed my hand over his with a cautious smile as I looked up into Bret’s dark features – and shivered with the flame of desire that immediately sent liquid heat between my thighs. There was something quite special between the two of us. Something I didn’t have even with my legal husband or any of the others.

  Something I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to hide from my sister – and it wasn’t just how his Sioux father made Bret so different from his brothers. How it made our little Meghan look so different from Jake and Jude, who more closely resembled the green eyes and honey-colored appearance of their father.

  My four-year-old’s dark hair was easily explained, since it matched my own ebony locks. But where I had blue eyes, Meghan’s were a stormy gray, an odd but lovely mix of her father’s and mine. And matched her personality quite well.

  But it was the deeper skin tone, a dusky perpetual tan that only deepened with all the time she spent in the sun, which gave me pause. It was that which made me fearful about my sister’s impending arrival. Even in winter, Meghan’s skin never fully lightened.

  Just like her father’s. I could only imagine what our newest little one would look like.

  However, I rested in the assurance that Abby would be gone well before the baby’s birth. Autumn never lasted long in Montana, and she’d return to the nation’s capital or, more likely, the family home in Baltimore within a few weeks. Perhaps a month at most, before the air freshened and the temperature dropped. Otherwise she’d be stuck on the ranch throughout the harsh winter.

  Something I couldn’t allow – no matter how sorely I was tempted to make room for her here. To have my sister with me once again.

  I looked over the items taking up space in the wagon. “I thought you were going to have the cover over the wagon.”

  “We’ve got the frame bows and the cover packed for the return trip.” Cole climbed onto then settled into the saddle of his steady horse with a smile for me. “Don’t worry, Stella. I promised to take care of her. I won’t let you down.”

  I touched his thigh, dreading the coming parting. “I know you won’t, Cole.”

  As Evan climbed into the high wagon seat, I remembered a very important item I’d forgotten. “Wait…just a moment longer. I’ll be right back.”

  I hurried into the house, careful again to close the door so as not to wake the sleeping babes, hurried up the stairwell and clambered into the attic to find what I’d searched for the night before in one of my old trunks.

  Evan had the wagon turned toward the trail and several of our hands mounted, ready for the journey by the time I returned and held out the parasol. The silk and lace had faded somewhat, and it wouldn’t provide more than a modicum of protection from the sun’s scorching rays against Abby’s pale skin.

  But she would also recognize it. She’d purchased the gift for me just before her wedding, and I hoped it would bring a comforting memory after all she’d been through.

  I handed it over to Evan to keep safe in the wagon. He took it with his familiar nod, then he bent to allow me to place a kiss on his grizzled cheek.

  “She may not have one with her,” I explained. “Just in case they’ve gone out of fashion in society.”

  “I’ll make sure she gets it,” Evan murmured.

  And I knew he would. Though we still had yet to share in the bounty of one another’s bodies, there was a quiet trust that had slowly built between Evan and me these last years. I treasured his steady demeanor and always knew I could depend upon him. Evan was as true to his word as he was with his rifle aim. Sure and steady.

  And I took great comfort in that.

  Cole urged Buck forward with the wagon. “Take care of things until we get back,” he charged Bret and Drew.

  “Come home safe,” I called after them with a lump in my throat. “And don’t forget the sugar!”

  I had a lot of canning to do once it was obvious our fields and orchards were producing such plentiful harve
sts. The wild huckleberries had grown in abundance near the river this year too. Our stores already contained more jams and jellies than ever in the last five years since my arrival, but I wasn’t about to let a single morsel of sweet fruit go to waste.

  Cole touched the brim of his hat in acknowledgment of my request before calling out a sharp yip and haw. With a clatter of wheels and a jangle of harnesses, the brothers set off into the deepest dark before the dawn.

  Taking along half my heart.

  Chapter Two

  Bret

  There was so much to get done on the ranch, what with fall in full swing and winter right around the corner. If the fields and apple orchard weren’t fully harvested by the time Cole and Evan returned, I wasn’t going to hear the end of it.

  But when Essie wanted something, Essie was determined to get it.

  Our wife wanted huckleberries – and I wasn’t about to disappoint her. Not when I wanted to satisfy her every moment of every day with every fiber of my being.

  As evidenced by the new life of mine she again carried.

  After a difficult pregnancy and the surprise birth of Cole’s twin sons almost three years ago, we’d given our wife’s womb a much needed break before filling her again so quickly with the results of our amorous desires. She’d lost too much blood, and her body was sorely weakened from birthing and nursing two hungry bellies so soon after weaning my little Meg.

  We’d made a lot of mistakes with our first wife – and we weren’t about to repeat them.

  But as with everything else, Essie had a mind of her own.

  For the last few years, we’d contented ourselves with mouths, tongues, hands, and her welcoming tight ass during our lovemaking. Our wife was always so eager to share her body so fully and completely, welcoming every inch of our desire as my brothers and I fucked her with abandon.

  I loved nothing more than to hear her groans and gasps. To see her writhe with passion even when we avoided prolonging our pleasure in her hot, dripping pussy. The hardest thing I’d ever had to do was pull my pulsing cock from her slick heat before I had the chance to spill my seed deep within her channel.