Song of the Willow Quotes

“Mmm, nice," he said close to her ear. She turned her head to look at him and their lips were almost touching.
"What's nice?" she asked breathlessly.
"You." He sat down and pulled her into his arms, brushing her lips lightly and then deepening the kiss. "Lord, I've been wanting to hold you all day," he whispered against her lips.
She cupped his lean, square jaw in her hands. "Me,too. Please, can we go someplace to be alone?"
"Darlin', God knows I crave that delectable little body of yours but we really shouldn't. It's not fair to you."
Willow slid off his lap and knelt, shaking her finger at him. "Listen, Tumbleweed, I'll tell you what's not fair. It's that damn kiss-and-run routine! It ain't fair to get me so...so...horny!"
Rider burst out laughing. God how he wished he could tell her how much he loved her. He settled for folding her in his arms and showing her instead.
When they both came up for air, she smiled seductively and threaded her fingers through the dark hair exposed in the vee of his shirt. "Rider," she whispered seductively. "I love touching you."
Rider was lost.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“When she finally opened them and took in the sight of the two men, a burble of silvery laughter spilled from her dusty lips. "You-you look like bandito snowmen from hell," she choked mirthfully. "And very old ones at that!"
Rider yanked his bandanna from his face, and she laughed even harder at his two-toned complexion.
Winking at Juan, Rider commented, "This is the thanks we get for coming to her rescue."
Juan chuckled. "Si, I think she deserves to have to gaze at herself in the mirror. She looks the bruja pequena, hey, compadre?"
"Little witch!" Willow blustered.
"Well,none of you are sitting on the furniture until you've cleaned up," Miriam interjected sternly.
Willow hurried to the sitting-room window, gasping at the sight of swirling, brownish-gray dirt and debris. "We might as well break out a deck of cards and take a seat on the floor because I think it's going to be awhile before we can get to the water pump and wash ourselves."
As if to confirm her words, a loud boom of thunder reverberated above the house. Seconds later, rain pelted the windowpane, and a jagged spear of lightning knifed through the riotus gloom. Willow automatically jumped back from the window, surprised when she stumbled over Rider's toes. He steadied her and she gave an embarrassed smile. "Sorry. I know darn well that lightning can't get to me in here, but it never fails to make me blink and jump."
Rider grinned down at her. "It's a natural reaction.If I'd been paying attention to the sky instead of you, I'd have jumped,too."
Willow flushed and glanced at Miriam, hoping her friend hadn't heard his candid remark. To her dismay, Miriam winked and smiled knowingly.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Willow gazed up at him, her silly grin still in place. "You know wha'? You're kinda cute when you crook your eyebrows down like tha'."
Rider muttered a curse, lifted her off the floor, and tossed her over his shoulder. "Juan, you and Hicks help Mrs. Brigham to her room. I'll take care of this little hellion."
Willow lifted her head from where she dangled over Rider's shoulder. "See yuh later, Mrs. B."
Miriam smiled and waved.
"i think Mrs. B is pickled," Rider's passenger said in a loud whisper as he hauled her out the door.
"No thanks to you,hellion," he growled, and smacked her bottom.
"Ow!"
As he carried Willow into the house, Rider was hard pressed to quell a sudden urge to laugh. In her bedroom, he unceremoniously dumped her on her bed, but when he turned to leave, her pitiful sounding voice halted his exit. "Rider,come here a min-it."
"Oh,hell, I suppose you're going to be sick." Grabbing a basin off her dresser, he shoved it under her chin. "It serves you right, you know." He watched nervously as she knocked the bowl aside.
"Dun...don't be mad." She held her arms out to him. "Come closer. Gimme a kiss and we'll make up. I like your kisses so-o-o-o much."
This time Rider couldn't stall his grin and inadvertently leaned closer.
She was on him like a duck on a June bug. With two hearty handfuls of his shirt, she yanked him down on top of her and plastered her mouth against his.
Talking against his lips, the tipsy girl had the audacity to complain, "Not like this. Do it like before. You know, with your tongue."
Rider squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. This isn't fair, he bemoaned silently. He tried to rise but Willow held tight, squirming her voluptuous little body against his. Sweat broke out on his forehead. If he didn't put a stop to this soon...He lifted his mouth from hers. "If I promise to kiss you with my tongue, will you let go of me and go to sleep?"
"Uh-huh." Willow's eyes drooped, but the affect appeared more seductive than drunken.
Lifting her shoulders slightly off the bed, he wound his arms around her and covered her mouth with his. His tongue explored hers in a long, liquid kiss, tasting of wine and desire. Rider savored its promise, wishing just this once, he could be less a gentleman.
Willow wrapped one of her legs over his and shifted her hips, innocently aligning his swelling heat with hers. He started and bolted off the bed. "Holy hell! You did it again!"
"What?" Her voice was sluggish and sleepy now.
Disgusted with himself, Rider stomped to the door. "Sleep it off, Freckles."
Outside Willow's door, Rider slumped against the wall and shook his head. Willow Vaughn was a constant surprise, and he loved the girl so bad it hurt.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“She was pretty all right, but he'd had prettier. She was proud and brave,too, but she was also outrageous and outspoken. And, yes, she had the body of a goddess, but she dressed it like a man. She entranced him, she irritated the hell out of him. She was forbidden fruit!”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“I know he frightens you, Willow, but I won't let him hurt you. I wish you'd remember that, and try to relax a little."
Reluctant to divulge her suspicions that Hicks had stolen the cattle and possibly blackmailed her pa, she didn't correct Rider's assumption that she was worrying about her own safety.
Instead she replied, "I'm still not sure why you're risking your neck. You don't really even like me."
Rider tugged her to an abrupt halt on the path and tilted her face up to his. "I like you plenty, lady. Maybe too much. But if you choose not to believe that, then maybe you can believe this. You're not using me any more than I'm using you. Right now, you need a strong man to protect you. I'm strong and I need the job. It's as simple as that."
For a moment Willow stood stock still. Then she grinned. "You like me, huh?"
"Yeah." He chucked her under the chin. "I got this thing about poor helpless females."
"Helpless!" she bristled. Then recognizing the teasing twinkle in his eye, she smiled. "Don't make me laugh, Rider. That makes my head hurt, too.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Just before Willow and Rider boarded the stage, Owen and Miriam pulled them aside. Owen looked terribly uncomfortable, and for a moment Willow thought they were about to hear some dreaful news.
"Yes,Pa?" Willow prodded. "Is there a problem?"
"No.Just got something to say, is all."
"Well,what is it,Owen?" Rider chuckled.
Owen put his arm around Miriam and yanked her close. She scowled and smoothed her pretty peach satin gown.
"Well,I guess me and Miriam here are getting hitched."
"You guess?" Miriam snapped, slapping at the arm squeezing the air out of her.
"Congratulations!" Rider shouted out. "Mrs. Brigham, how did you ever talk this stubborn father-in-law of mine into it?"
Owen winked at Rider. And to his future wife's horror, he replied, "She rode and broke the stallion.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“I love you, Freckles. The smartest thing I ever did was come to Tombstone to romance Willie Vaughn.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Willow leaned forward and laid her head next to his on the pillow. "Is it too late to say I'm sorry, and that I love you more than anything else in this world?"
"Oh God,no,love." With his good arm, he reached for the back of her head and brought her lips to his. They kissed as if they'd never get enough of each other, because they knew they never would.
When Rider finally released her mouth, he smiled rakishly and pulled her hand under the covers.
Willow smiled when he laid her hand over his throbbing desire. "Hmmm, you are feeling better."
"Almost well enough to start Mr. Happy on his baby-making lessons again," he said in a deep sexy baritone.
"Ah,Rider?"
"Yes,love?" He was pulling her down for another stirring kiss.
"About those lessons?"
"Hmmm, I'm anxious to start practicing again, too,love. But at the moment Mr. Happy is a lot stronger than the rest of me."
"Oh,I know,but...Rider, Mr. Happy must have learned his lessons real fast."
Rider stilled. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I think Mr. Happy cooked something up in the kitchen."
Forgetting his shoulder, Willow's husband sat straight up in bed. He winced, then asked, "You mean you're...going to have a baby?"
"Of course I'm going to have a baby, you beefwit. Did you think I was baking another damn pie?"
"Yahoooo!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, and hugged her with his good arm.
Six men, Juan included, plus two women came pouring into the room.
"What in the hell is going on in here?" Owen grumbled in mock irritation.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Rider announced, "Owen, your daughter is about to make me a father and give you a second grandchild."
"Oh,hell, I knew that."
Nine people echoed, "You did?"
"Hell, yes, all you gotta do is look at 'er face."
Rider cocked his head and studied his wife's face. "She does have an extra glow about her, doesn't she?"
"She sure does." Owen chuckled. "Her mama got the same glow with all five of her babies."
"If I'm glowing, it's because all of you are staring at me like I just grew horns," Willow said, covering her flushed cheeks with her hands.
"Dammit, I just thought of something," Owen said. "I s'pose this means I'll have to add another room to the house for when you come visiting."
"Owen Vaughn," Miriam reprimanded, "stop that cursing. I swear every other word out of your mouth is a curse! I'm going to break you of that before your grandbabies get old enough to repeat that filth."
"Break me of it?" Owen laughed and poked Nick in the ribs with his elbow. "Only one way for a woman to break a stallion, that's to ride 'im hard!" The man all guffawed loudly.
Miriam's face turned ten shades of red. "Well,I never!" She turned on her heel and made an indignant exit.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Rider was of the romantic mind that in this world there was only one perfect woman for him. He'd been lucky enough to find her and smart enough to marry her. He'd be damned if he'd give her up! Even if it took an eternity, he'd find her and make her love him again.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Could you please unfasten my dress before you leave?"
A lopsided grin appeared at the corner of his mouth. "You know, of coure, where this may lead?"
"You'd still have to wade through at least three layers of clothes before you found skin." She chuckled.
"Ah,but the buttons being the most difficult obstacle, the rest would be a simple matter of-"
"Just the buttons, please."
"You're no fun."
"Later," she promised, her voice low and suggestive, "when I'm fresh from a scented bath, all warm and soft and-"
"Enough," he growled. "Turn around before I rip that thing off you."
Willow giggled as she turned away from him.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“At the door of their room, Willow stood next to Rider while Decker unlocked the door. It was then she noticed the naughty red lace underwear hanging out of Rider's pocket.
Rider was startled when his wife's hand dove deeply into his pants pocket. But before he would ascertain her actions, the clerk opened the door and turned to hand him the key. For a split second the man's haughty mein slipped, then he handed them the key and hurried back down the stairs, his shoulders quaking with suppressed mirth.
"What was that all about?" Rider asked his red-faced wife.
She whipped the offensive item out of his pocket and dangled it before his eyes. "It was hanging out of your pocket and I was afraid he'd see it," she explained.
Rider swooped her into his arms. "Instead he got to see my anxious bride fondling me." He laughed.
Quickly over her embarrassment, she chuckled. "Maybe he was jealous."
"I know I would be," he replied huskily, and kicked the door shut behind them.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“I brought you here to indulge in a little fantasy of mine," he said, spreading kisses down her slender neck. "The very first time I set foot in this room, I fantasized tossing you down on this table and having you for dessert!”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Before taking her leave, Miriam reminded Willow not to be long coming to bed.
Rider stood and pulled Willow into his arms. "I wish you were coming to my bed, love. I dreamed about you all day." He tilted her chin up, gently kissing her lips, then broke away.
"Is that all I get?" she protested, raising up on her toes and pulling him close again.
Rider took one of her hands and discreetly guided it to the heat of his desire. "See what you do to me with one chaste kiss? Have a heart,love, and say good night while I can still walk to the bunkhouse."
A sigh of regret left Willow's lips as she stole one last kiss, then hurried inside.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“It shouldn't make a difference to me, I suppose,but it does. I've grown to trust you, and I'd hate to think that I've been wrong about you."
"Well,it's real nice to hear you like me, Freckles," he teased. "I kind of like you,too." He wiggled his eyebrows as he had earlier.
Willow laughed and leaned over to swat at him but missed. "You know, I really don't have freckles. Why don't you call me Williw like everyone else does?"
"Maybe, because everyone else does." He shrugged. "Freckles is mine. My special name for you, that is. And you do have freckles, cute little ginger-colored freckles, all-l-l aross the bridge of your nose."
"I don't!" Her mouth twisted in annoyance.
"Tell you what, we'll race on it. You win-you don't have freckles. I win-you do have freckles."
Knowing her only chance to beat his big stallion was to get a head start, Willow didn't waste time agreeing to ny terms. She dug her heels into Sugar's sides and tore off across the desert.
"Hey!" Rider called, laughing and spurring Sultan into a run. "You're supposed to wait till I say go."
Her laugh drifted back on the wind.
"Come on,Sultan. Let's show Miss Freckle Britches who she's dealing with."
The spirited stallion's legs stretched out ith effortless grace, his body lowering in a ground-eating pace, and Willow's little mare was no match for the big stallion.
"See you back at the ranch, Freckles," Rider laughingly taunted as he rode past.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Now come on. The dragon lady probably thinks I've ravished you by now."
"You mean Miriam?"
"Who else do you know who spits fire and makes a grown man shake in his boots?"
"Well,if you're anything like that horny critter you're riding, I don't blame her for worrying," Willow replied, shaking her head with pretended disgust.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“What are you smiling about?" Rider asked. Willow glanced at him and flushed. "That must have been some daydream you were having."
If you only knew, Willow thought.
"Come on, Freckles, it's time you get back to the ranch. I have work to do."
His big work-roughened hand swallowed hers as he helped her to her feet. Against her will, her body responded to its warmth. She snatched her hand away, garnering a searching expression in his dark brown eyes.
She quickly excused her reaction with a flirty smile. "I promised not to touch you, remember?"
"Yes,but I dont't recall promising not to touch you." He wiggled his brows in a comical imitation of an evil villain in a bad play.
She laughed and shook her head. "Help me mount Sugar before I decide to wipe that grin off your face."
"And how do you propose to do that?" he asked, retrieving the horses and returning to he side. He bent down, cupped his hands, and boosted her into the mare's saddle. "You weren't planning on slapping my face again, I hope," he said, reaching for Sultan's reins.
"Oh,no, nothing like that." She batted her lashes coquettishly, the affect intensified by the naughty twinkle in her eyes.
"You better stop looking at me like that, or I'll have to follow Sultan's example and break down your door tonight."
"I don't think Juan would be too happy about making me two new doors. It wasn't easy explaining what happened to the first one!”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Couldn't I come along with you? I've been trapped inside for days now and I need some sunshine and exercise. If you're really busy today, maybe I could hhelp. It's not as if I'm a greenhorn who'd get in your way."
"This isn't a good idea, Freckles, and you know it."
The feisty redhead grinned. "I admit I'm somewhat ignorant on the subject, but I've never heard of doing "it" on the back of a horse."
A roguish grin dangled from the corner of his mouth. "Sweetheart, you'd be surprised where...Never mind."
Though he'd tried to sound gruff, Willow detected a slight wavering in his determination. "I'll promise not to attack your body, if that's what you're worried about." She started laughing.
Moving closer, she backed him against the door. Then tilting her head, she hit him full force with her big blue-green sparklers. Her lips parted in a very seductive, very naughty smile.
"Please, just a short ride?" She toyed with the edge of his black leather vest, the backs of her fingers sliding up and down his chest.
Rider sucked in a gulp of air. "Dammit, woman,what's Mrs. Brigham been teaching you? Stop that!" He batted her hand away, laughing despite himself. He was beaten and he knew it.
"Well?" She smiled slyly.
He grasped her arms and set her away to a safer distance. "All right, all right. I give up. I'll take you for a ride." When her face lit up,he raised a cautioning finger and hastened to add, "On one condition. You have to keep yours hands to yourself. No touching!"
"Yes! I promise!" Willow threw herself into his arms and pulled his face close for a brisk buss on the cheek. Then she sprang free and skipped past him to the door. "I kow, no touching. That was just a thank you. Hurry up, I'm all ready to go."
Following in her wake, Rider groaned, "Yeah,so am I-in more ways than one."
"What did you say?" she called back.
"I said you were a little flirt!"
She gave him an innocent smile over her shoulder and sprinted off to saddle Sugar.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Willow,I've treated you shabbily and I'm sorry."
A few tense moments passed before she replied. "If it's the dress I'm wearing that makes you realize you've been acting like a jackass, save your apologies. I've said it before. In a dress or in a pair of britches, I'm the same woman.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Tell me one thing. Has Rider Sinclair done something to hurt you in any way? If he has,I'll shoot that man!"
Willow was taken aback by Miriam's vehemence. "No,no," she hastily assured. "He might have hurt my feelings some but that's all."
"I noticed he wasn't being very gentlemanly, but I overlooked it because I thought perhaps he was still showing his temper over the Scofield incident."
"You're probably right. But, Miriam, this ain't, er,isn't about Sinclair, not entirely anyway. It's about me." Willow's smile was sad. "Being a man would be easier and a hell of a lot more fun but I ain't built right. So, I want you to teach me how to look and act like a fine and proper lady. You will, won't you?"
Merry chuckles bubbled and rolled out of Miriam. "Oh, Willow!" More chuckles. "I know I shouldn't laugh right now, but I can't help myself. You say the most awful things!"
Willow didn't know if she should be insulted or not, but since it was Miriam laughing at her, she gave her the benefit of the doubt. "I know my wanting to be a real lady is funny, but not that funny."
"No,no." Miriam laughed, gasping for breath. "No that, the part about you're not being built right.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Detecting a note of inordinate concern for the young woman, Fred quizzed, "Could it be that our pretty little rabbit has caught the hunter's heart?"
Rider felt distinctly uncomfortable under Fred's all-too-knowing eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. This is a job, not a honeymoon!"
"Why,you're in love with her, aren't you?"
"Hell,no! What gave you that half-cocked idea?"
"You objected too fast." Fred smiled.
"How could I love a woman like her? For God's sake, Fred, she acts more like a man than a woman. It's just that..." Rider rubbed at the back of his neck. "Damn, the woman walks around naked under that shirt of hers, jiggling and bouncing. Naturally, I'm attracted. You would be, too! But believe me, Fred, lust is all I feel for her."
"You got it bad, my friend." Fred chuckled. "When we get done talking here, I suggest you take Annie over there"-he jerked his head toward a brunette-"upstairs for a good romp in the sack."
"Maybe I should.I've tried to avoid Willow but just thinking about her gets me randy."
Even as he mouthed the words, Rider knew he would not do as Fred suggested. There was only one woman who could cure his ache and, unfortunately for him, no other would do.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Could it be that our pretty little rabbit has caught the hunter's heart?”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“I just helped with a birthing."
Amber flames lit his angry dark eyes. "Women have no business doing that kind of work. It's not decent!"
Thoroughly provoked by his unreasonable attitude, Willow completely forgot Miriam's presence. "Well, that's a lamebrain thing to say, considering it's us females who do the birthing. All men do is prime their-"
"Willow!" Miriam interjected. "That is quite enough!" Seemingly disgusted with both of them, Miriam waved Rider off dismissively. "Mr. Sinclair, you've seen for yourself she's quite all right so I suggest you take yourself elsewear."
"Fine! It's a little too whiffy around here for me anyway." He jerked Sultan around and rode off in a monstrous huff.
Willow was pricked by his disdain more than she cared to admit. "Did you hear what he said? He said I stink! You'd think I'd just climbed out of a pig sty! Hell, how would he know if I stink? He wasn't even close enough to sniff me."
Miriam exhaled a deep sigh and wrinkled her nose. "Well, believe me, I'm close enough!"
Miriam bristled but then recognized the teasing twinkle in Miriam's soft hazel eyes and broke into a grin.
"It'll never do to stick you in a tub," the landlady observed. "I'd kill myself, filling and dumping it before we got you clean. Stay here and don't move. I'll be right back." Miriam returned, loaded down with towels, soap, and clean clothes. "Lead the way to that swimming hole you were telling me about."
The two women silently traipsed down the narrow path to the river, Willow brooding over Rider's sarcasm and Miriam wondering if Willow's clothes could be laundered or if she should just burn them.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Miriam and Willow both looked up when Rider cantered in on his big stallion. Unaware of Willow standing just inside the stable, he addressed Miriam. "I couldn't find that little hellion anywhere! Has she come back?"
Willow pursed her lips and stepped out of the shadows.
"Holy shit!" he bellowed at first glimpse of her.
Willow grinned and shrugged. "It's possible there's some of that, too, but I don't know how holy it is.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Get off your horse, Jack."
"Why don't you just ride outta here, missy, and I'll forget this ever happened."
Willow's voice trembled with fury. "Get off your horse," she repeated. "Slow and easy."
Still grinning his contempt, he did as he asked.
"That's good. Now, real slow like, take your gunbelt off and toss it my way."
"Like hell!" A shot rang out and nicked a chunk of leather from his boot. Cursing, he unbuckled his gun and tossed it at her mare's feet.
"Now,strip them britches off, underwear, too," she ordered.
"You little shi-" Bang! Jack's hat whizzed off his head. He dropped his pants in a puddle over his boots, trying his best to shelter his privates from her view.
"My,my,Jack." Willow laughed humorlessly. "Is that puny thing you're trying to hide the same thing you were threatening me with?"
If looks could kill, Willow would have been dead and buried ten times over, then and there.
"Take them confounded boots off so's you can get your pants clear off," she ordered in mock exasperation.
He wheeled around, gaining a modicum of privacy while he complied.
"You're puny all over, Jack. You got the boniest bee-hind I ever did see. You sure you ain't picked up a worm somewheres?"
"You're gonna pay for this,you little slut!"
"Shut your filthy mouth and pick them pants off the ground and toss 'em over here at my horse's feet. Then you can put your boots back on."
He gave the pants a toss, put his boots on, and turned around to face her, cuping his privates in his hands.
"Okay,Jack, finish the job. You've been real generous but I'm a greedy cuss. Give me the shirt off your back, too."
Cursing, he again turned around and obeyed.
"Oh,ah,Jack, you better reach behind you there,and get your hat. I'll let you keep it. We wouldn't want your bald spot to get sunburned."
Scofield now stood in nothing but his boots, using his hat to shield his lower half. Humiliated, the gunslinger's eyes burned with bloody intent. Willow suddenly regretted her damnable quick temper and realized the folly of her reckless retaliation. No doubt,the heinous man would seek revenge. But the damage was done and the man was so mad that backing off now would be the same as signing her death warrant.
"Step away from your horse and start walking toward the ranch, Scofield."
"You're out of your mind!"
"Maybe,but I bet you'll think twice before threatening to poke that puny thing at another lady."
"You? A lady? Ha!"
Willow's temper flared anew. "Walk, Jack. Real fast. Cuz if you don't, I'm gonna use your puny thing for target practice." Her bullet kicked up the dust at his feet and started him on his way.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Well, ma'am, as I said, I found Willow lying ill down on the riverbank."
"What was she doing there?"
Rider swallowed. "Ah,well, she, ah, was kind of taking a bath."
"A bath!" The landlady looked like she was going to be sick.
They now had Bartel's full attention. A grin wrinkled the corner of this mouth.
"Oh,she was all done,of course," Rider rushed to explain. "Dressed,too," he lied. "Poor girl said she had a severe headache."
Rider was sweating bullets. He'd rather face the whole Clanton gang than his formidable landlady. She had the uncanny ability to make him feel like a ten-year-old boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. And it didn't take much to figure out what her reaction would be to his "headache treatment." Since there were definitely no benefits to be won for total honesty, he reasoned that what she didn't know woulnd't hurt him.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“What are you doing here?" he questioned, noting her harried appearance. Wild strands of chestnut hair had escaped her sever chignon and her blue dress was gray with dust.
"What am I doing here? The question is, what are you doing here? And where's Willow? Was that her room you just came from?"
Before he could answer, Miriam's eyes suddenly widened. "Good God, what is that?" She pointed at the grinning deer's head.
"That's just Hairy," Rider returned impatiently, "and,yes,that was Willow's room.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Lord,it's hot in here!" she exclaimed, waving a bedraggled towel in front of her face. "Wouldn't mind a swim myself." Paying him no mind, she unfastened a couple of buttons on her shirt, parted it, and blotted the swells of her breasts with the towel. As she bent down and reached into a cupboard, the shirt gaped.
Paralysis afflicted Rider from his eyeballs down.
Unaware of his stymied condition, Willow rummaged though the cupboard and asked, "Did Juan and Taylo get back yet?"
No answer.
"Sinclair?" She found a chunk of soap and a towel and rose from her stooped position to find Rider's eyes glued to her breasts.
The soap thunked Rider on his chest and broke his trance. He glanced up just in time to get a towel in his face but managed to catch it before it joined the soap on the floor. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
"Never mind," She spun away to face the stove and to conceal her flaming face. Busily stirring with one hand, she nonchalantly rebuttoned her blouse with the other. "Don't tarry," she warned over her shoulder, "supper is almost ready."
Tarry? Tarry? If he remained a minute longer, he was going to have dessert here and now and to hell with supper! He lowered his hat a few discreet inches to hide the evidence of his stirring desire. Then,with an ease he didn't feel, he picked up the soap. "I'll hurry, and thanks for the soap."
He turned to leave, then stopped, a devilish glint in his eye. After the emotional turmoil she'd just put him through, she more than deserved a little teasing. "You're welcome to join me for a swim, if you like." His smile was wide and audacious. "I'm not shy."
Willow turned to face him, fork in hand. "Let's you and me get something straight, Sinclair. I ain't shy and I don't shock easy neither. You see, I reckon you ain't got nothin' my brothers don't."
Her bald remark shocked him as intended but Rider was not to be outdone. "Maybe I don't." He grinned rakishly. "But I've been told I have a rather...exceptional physique."
Willow rolled her eyes. "Well, as you can see, I ain't got time to do any comparing. Now,go take your bath and get outta my hair!"
Rider swung the towel over his shoulder and turned to leave again. Disappointed by his inability to rile her, he added, "Shucks, Freckles. I was kind of hoping you'd scrub my back. I've been told my back is a mighty fi-"
She jabbed the air with the big fork, motioning to the door.
"I'm going! I'm going! This place is hazardous to a man's health." He ducked out the door,laughing.
"And stop calling me Freckles!" she yelled after him. Grinning and shaking her head, Willow directed her attention back to the stove. Rider Sinclair was an odd egg if ever she saw one. One minute the man was purely obnoxious, the next, teasing and charming.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Listen," he said still breathing hard, "I'm sorry. I have no right to lecture you." His voice warmed with a devastating smile and his voice lowered a sensual octave. Before he had a chance to stop them, his thoughts rolled off his tongue. "But, darlin', you're a mighty tempting sight in those pants. It does things to a man, things you're too innocent to know about."
Willow swallowed hard, his hot look stealing her usual spontaneous wit. Dropping her gaze from his, she stammered, "I...It's getting late. We better go.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Rider's head snapped up at the sound of gravel crunching under Willow's boots. The sight of the girl in boy's garb birthed an oath. Beneath her cotton shirt, her breasts bounced freely with each step. And within the tight mannish pants, her hips swung in an unconscious rhythm, clearly proclaiming her all woman. Hell, she might as well be naked! His body's reaction was immediate.
Cursing his lack of control, he turned sideways, facing her horse, and pretended to adjust the saddle straps.
Willow took Sugar's reins and waited for Rider to move aside. He didn't budge an inch. Instead, he tipped his hat back on his head, revealing undisguised disapproval. "Is that the way you always dress?" he bit out.
Willow stiffened, immediately defensive. Criticizing herself was one thing; putting up with Sinclair's disdain was another! "If you were expecting a dress, you're crazy!" she snapped. "It would be suicide in this country."
"Haven't you ever heard of riding skirts?"
"Yes. I'm not as dumb as you seem to think. But fancy riding skirts cost money I don't have. 'Sides, pants are a hell of a lot more useful on the ranch than some damn riding skirt! Now, if you're done jawing about my clothes, I'd like to get a move on before dark."
"Somebody ought to wash that barnyard mouth of yours,woman."
Willow rested her hand on her gun. "You can try, if you dare."
As if I'd draw on a woman, Rider cursed silently, stepping out of her way. As she hoisted herself into the saddle, he was perversely captivated by the way the faded demin stretched over her round bottom. He imagined her long slender legs wrapped around him and how her perfect heart-shaped buttocks would fill his hands and...Oh,hell, what was he doing standing here, gaping like some callow youth?
Maybe the girl was right.Maybe he was crazy. One moment he was giving the little witch hell for wearing men's pants; the next he was ogling her in them. He started to turn away, then reached out and gave her booted ankle an angry jerk.
"Now what?" Icy turquoise eyes met his, dark and searing.
"Do you have any idea what you look like in that get-up? No self-respecting lady would dress like that. It's an open invitation to a man. And if you think that gun you're wearing is going to protect you, you're badly mistaken."
Willow gritted her teeth in mounting ire. "So what's it to you, Sinclair? You ain't my pa and you ain't my brother. Hell,my clothes cover me just as good as yours cover you!" She slapped his hand from her ankle, jerked Sugar around, and spurred the mare into a brisk gallop.
Before the fine red dust settled, Rider was on his horse, racing after her. Dammit, she's right.Why should I care how she dresses? Heaven knows it certainly has no bearing on my mission. No, agreed a little voice in his head, but it sure is distacting as hell!
He'd always prided himself on his cool control; it had saved his backside more than once. But staying in any kind of control around Willow Vaughn was like trying to tame a whimsical March wind-impossible!”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow

“Let's get out of here, Sinclair," Willow urged. "I reckon I've offended the God-fearing people of Tombstone enough for one day.”
― Charlotte McPherren, Song of the Willow