Rocky Mountain Romp (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 4) by Lee Savino Page A

from the whipping his father had given him. Women liked pretty things; he wondered if a wife would balk at such a tough looking mate. Of course, when he stopped in a town to take a bath, the girls at the saloons and brothels always cooed over his body. They seemed to enjoy his broad shoulders, taut muscles, and the size of the appendage between his legs, but he paid them well with coin for the pleasure of their bodies and their attention. He’d tupped a few milk maids, too, and they gave him the same compliments and sighs for free.
    Besides his rough looks, he owned almost nothing. Just his horse, his gun, a bedroll and a few clothes. Sure, he had some money stashed away, but what woman would want to tie herself to a man who was more comfortable sleeping on the hard ground than a bed?
    Staring into the frozen sky, Jesse let the cold bite him along with reality. Marriage was probably not for him, no matter how enticing the prospect seemed at the moment. With his lifestyle, he couldn’t tie a woman to him, even if the thought of waking up next to a sweet and loving wife warmed his whole body, even standing knee deep in snow.
    A twig snapped and Jesse whirled, raising his rifle in one movement. The hemlocks shook, snow falling in great clumps. Jesse stood his ground, muzzle at ready, pointed at whatever disturbed the deep shadows.
    Out stepped a big mountain of a man, a big beard covering most of his face. He came trudging out of the woods, a large fur coveredtravois behind him. Dressed in leather and fur with a big beaver cap, he had the look of a trapper, one of the few left still hunting beaver and fox in the last forests of the Rockies. He came barreling out of the forest, halfway to the rifle before Jesse could blink.
    “Dinnae shoot!” The man raised his hands. Woolen mittens covered his hands, and his beard was full of snow.
    Jesse lowered his gun, but still kept it at hand. The wild-looking man kept coming, pulling his burden behind him. “You must help me,” the man said with a slight Scottish burr. “I found her in the woods, with a babe at her breast.”
    “What?” Jesse blinked at him.
    “An Indian lassie. She isnae well. I need a doctor.” He waved behind him at the travois, two large branches lashed together and covered with a plaid blanket. A woman lay on her back, round face wan under tan skin. Her clothes, dark brows and raven black hair spoke of her native heritage.
    “Right.” Jesse jerked his rifle up. “This way.” He started for the town and the barn, the big man following, pulling the makeshift sled like it weighed nothing. When Jesse looked back, he realized the man had large snowshoes on his feet. “It’s that barn, right there.” Jesse pointed at the large structure.
    “Go,” the man panted. “I’ve got this one. Get the doctor.”
    Whirling, Jesse plowed ahead through the snow.
    The Christmas party looked up in shock when a snow covered Jesse burst through the door.
    “Doctor, you’re needed. A man is bringing a sick young woman and her babe.”
    Esther and Johnathan immediately burst into action, the tall minister hurrying to the door, with Miles and Jesse not far behind, while the blonde ran to the kitchen.
    “Hot water,” Esther ordered when Mrs. Martin and Rose came to the kitchen door. “Heat cider and stew. And put bricks and blankets by the fire to warm them. We’ll need a room.”
    “You can have ours,” Rose said, and rushed to ready the bed.
    “Fresh linens in the wardrobe,” Esther told Mrs. Lovett, and the matron sailed out of the kitchen, calling orders to her new husband. “Laurie, get the brick from our room, and the extra cask of cider. Hurry!”
    Outside, Miles and Jesse met the mountain man with lanterns in hand, kicking the snow down to make his way faster. Johnathan met them at the door; the men all helped untie the travois and carry it well inside the building. The trapper lagged behind, untying his snowshoes and stomping his giant feet.
    “Here,”