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She giggled and rubbed his back possessively. "I must say I find it much less confining, as I did when I decided to shed my corset permanently."
Zac pushed himself up. "Does this mean there'll be nothing but your beautiful naked bottom beneath your skirts from now on?"
She winked boldly at him. "Perhaps, but perhaps not."
"You wicked woman." He kissed her soundly. "I'd like to spend the rest of the day here lost in your arms . . ."
"But," she finished, "you really want to get on to your ranch."
His smile was warm and thoughtful. "I'm eager for you to see it. And I'm eager, for various reasons, to get home." He moved off her, sliding her skirt down before he stood and adjusted his own clothing. He needed to get her home. He needed time alone with her. Time for her to grow accustomed to life on his ranch… time for her to grow to love him.
Prudence sat up, buttoning her shirt and slipping into her denim jacket. "Tell me about it . . . the ranch, I mean."
He held his hand out to her. She took it and he pulled her up to him, kissing her gently. "I will, if you don't mind listening and eating while we're traveling."
"No objection," she said, gathering everything up.
They were on their way in no time. The cider jug sat between them, and the cheese and bread were cushioned in Prudence's lap on a bright red and white checkered towel.
"Is the house made of sod or log?" she asked, breaking off a hunk of bread to hand him.
He took it, finding his appetite ravenous since he had neglected breakfast. "You couldn't call the first house on my land a house. It was a one-room log cabin, not fit for man or beast."
"But you loved it, didn't you?"
"Every inch of the place, and do you know why?"
She shook her head, although she had an idea.
"It was mine. That one-room cabin with a fireplace, bed, table and two chairs, and no window was all mine. It was the first time in my life I had owned anything with permanence to it. I finally had a place to come home to."
"You must have some wonderful memories."
"Wonderful and harsh, but both were to be expected. I was prepared . . . still am."
"And now?"
"That cabin remains on my land. I couldn't bring myself to tear it down when I had the house built. And besides, the house is miles from where the cabin stands. Now I have a twelve-room house. The house I always dreamed of building."
"Twelve rooms? Do you plan on having a large family?" she asked without thinking.
"I certainly do," he said proudly. "There's a large master suite upstairs and four bedrooms for the children when they come along. Two in each room makes eight in all. A good size family, don't you think?"
"A very good size." she agreed, recalling how she had always envisioned a large brood of her own.
"Downstairs are the receiving parlor, the family parlor, the dining room, my study, a sewing room, and the cooking area, complete with a water pump next to the sink and a brand-new cast-iron stove."
"And the sewing room is complete?" she asked.
"A new Singer sewing machine just waiting patiently. I bought some thread and stuff but wasn't certain what was really needed, so I thought I had better wait. You can order whatever you need from the catalogs or see if the dry goods store carries it."
Prudence was startled that he should offer her the use of the sewing machine. She thought he would want it saved for his permanent wife. She was tempted to refuse his generous offer but resisted. A few stitches on the new machine wouldn't hurt, and some needles and threads, pincushions, and thimbles would probably be appreciated by his next wife.
"The place could use some curtains. Are you handy with a needle?"
"Yes, I like to sew and surprisingly I am quite good at it."
"Most women are. Why would anyone be surprised at that?"
She shrugged. "My useless fingers give everyone the impression that I'm incapable of doing anything with my hands."
"Ignorance. Ignore them."
She smiled at how easily he defended her. It was nice to have a champion. "There's a town nearby your home?"
He shook his head and laughed. "If you can call Stewart a town."
"Stewart?"
"Yes, it's named after me. The land once belonged to me, and I donated it to some settlers who were interested in forming a town since several ranches sit about. It's in its infancy stages but growing nicely. There's the dry goods store run by two women. They also handle the mail. There's a small jailhouse that's never been used. It's more of a deterrent for people passing through. Sort of announces that our town is law-abiding. And Charlie Biddle just opened up a smithy. We hope to have a church built before the end of the year, and who knows what else."
