Dorothy Garlock by Restless Wind

spent as little time here as possible. It was a boring, savage land, and the people here were equally boring. But if she was going to stay in the good graces of her stepfather, she had to divide her time between the ranch and Denver.
    Lately Della had begun to worry that Adam might marry again. He had made several trips to Denver to visit a widow not much older than herself. The thought of sharing her inheritance with another woman was not something Della liked to think about, and she had given considerable thought to the idea of getting Adam to marry her. He was still a vigorous man and the thought of sleeping with her stepfather was rather intriguing. She had often wondered why her mother had detested the physical side of her marriage to Adam. He was big, strong, demanding, had an explosive temper, and could be exceedingly cruel at times.
    Della had been eleven years old when her mother married Adam ten years before. Even then she had adored him and spent as much time with him as possible. She was not an outdoor type of girl. She hated the smelly outbuildings on the ranch, the wind blowing her hair, the hot sun making her sweat. Being inside the lovely house was more to her liking. She became adept at bossing the servants, which irritated her mother but amused Adam. Some days she would spend hours standing at the window waiting for him to come in. She loved to sit on his lap and wiggle until his
thing
got hard and he would lift her off and take her mother up to the bedroom.
    Her sixteen-year-old brother, Kain, had detested him. He and Adam never got along and Kain left the ranch two years after they arrived. He kept in touch with his mother until she died. Since then, nothing had been heard from him.
    Della knew she was beautiful. She gazed into the long mirror beside her dressing table and tucked a strand of her blond hair in place. She was of average height and very slim. Many men had enjoyed encircling her waist with their two hands. Her breasts were fully rounded, her nipples large. Her eyes dropped to them and she was pleased to see how they jutted against the thin, white muslin of her gown. She almost always wore white with a touch of pastel. Impulsively, she lifted the skirt of her dress and yanked off a petticoat. She ran her hands down over her belly and lower to see if her pubic hair was visible through the white gown. It was, but not nearly as much as she would have liked. At least there was nothing between
her
and the dress. She tucked a fresh sachet between her breasts and left the room.
    Adam will still be angry, she thought as she went down the carpeted stairs. She had told him about the half-breed buying the range as soon as she had returned from town. He had exploded with a fury that she had seldom witnessed before. The foul language that spewed from his mouth was downright exciting. Just thinking about it and the way he had picked up a heavy goblet and flung it at the wall sent delicious quivers down her spine. He had walked the floor and cursed for an hour before going into his office. He had not come out for dinner and she had dined alone.
    The house was quiet, she observed with a smile. The servants were keeping out of the master’s way. He had been known to knock one of them off their feet when he was in a terribly foul mood and they had not anticipated his wishes correctly. Della had no fear of him. Papa Adam had always been gentle as a lamb with her.
    Adam had left the door to his office open, but the red velvet door draperies were pulled. In this way he could hear what was going on in the house and yet have his privacy. Della pulled aside the drapes and stood framed in the doorway. Adam sat at his desk, a sheaf of papers in his hand. Della watched him through lowered lids. His white hair was thick and sprang back from a broad forehead. She knew he was proud of his hair and proud of the white mustache he kept trimmed to perfection. He was a big man with wide shoulders and long arms. His waist had