“Old men living alone can become eccentric.” Ben’s lips had a bitter twist.
“You better make sure you don’t,” she retorted.
“I’m not alone am I? I’ve got a wife for a year.”
She didn’t like the sneering tone of his voice.
Was it her or himself, he kept reminding that this sham marriage was only going to last a year. She glanced at his profile, taking in the determined thrust of his jaw, the slight thinning of his well-shaped lips. His hat was pulled down so she couldn’t see his eyes.
They proceeded at a steady pace. Spring flowers dotted the grass, waving their pink, white and yellow heads in the gentle breeze. Mountains in the distance looked to be heavily timbered.
“Are you feeling all right?” He suddenly asked. “You’re trembling, and where your face isn’t bruised, it is ghostly white. We’ll stop in a little while so you can get down and stretch your legs.”
“Thank you, I’d prefer if we kept going. I could do with a drink from your canteen, though.”
He leaned down and handed it to her. She removed the top and brought it to her lips. The cooling liquid anointed her dry throat, eased the scratchy dryness. She winced as she wiped her lips with the back of one hand.
Passing him the canteen, she watched him take several mouthfuls before replacing the lid and shoving it back under the seat. He pulled a stick of beef jerky out of his pocket and offered it to her.
“No, thank you.”
“Please yourself.” He broke a piece off and started chewing it.
On and on they journeyed. She had lost track of the time, but the sun was getting low in the sky by the time they passed through a wooden archway with a swinging sign – Edge Of Nowhere Ranch.
She hadn’t seen any sign of human habitation over the last few miles, so it was aptly named. Exhaustion overwhelmed her. She felt so stiff and aching it would be impossible to climb down from the buckboard without Ben’s assistance.
“Welcome to your new home. For the next year, that is.
“I won’t forget that this farce of a marriage is only for a year, you don’t have to keep on reminding me. I felt dreadful making false vows to a man of God. Promising to respect the sanctity of marriage.”
“There speaketh the Quaker.”
“I’m not… What’s the use? I don’t really care anymore.” Her voice wavered. “I’m just too weary. Think what you like.”
She closed her eyes in the hopes it would ease the throbbing pain in her head.
“Here we are.”
The buckboard stopped and she opened her eyes. The ranch house was a single story structure built of split logs that had been weathered silver by the elements. It had a shingle roof, and a porch ran along its whole length. Through half closed eyes, she noticed several outbuildings, bunk house, stable and corral.
A few scraggly bushes struggled for survival out the front, and a couple of huge trees shadowed the house. There were two stone chimneys protruding from the roof.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” He tied the horse to the hitching rail and reached for her. His arms were strong, somehow comforting. As he went to set her on the ground her legs collapsed under her.
“Sonofabitch.” He scooped her up in his arms and strode on to the porch. He nudged the door open with his foot.
They entered a large parlor with a shabby sofa and two armchairs. A film of dust covered everything. Limp, faded curtains hung at the windows. There were bare floorboards covered with a couple of threadbare mats. It was all too much, and she burst into tears.
“I guess the place is a bit shabby. All right for two bachelors. You can give it a few womanly touches if you like.”
“It’s…it’s so dusty.”
He gave a shamefaced grin. “I didn’t think. I should have got Eve to clean it up a bit.”
“Eve?”
She’s married to Dusty, my foreman. Do you want to see the rest of the house?”
Not if it was like this room she didn’t. “I really need to lie down, Ben. I feel so tired, and every bone in my body aches. I’d like to see it after I’ve rested.”
“You can have the main bedroom; it was Uncle Samuel’s. My room is down the back of the house, so I won’t disturb you when I come and go. I keep strange hours sometimes. In the summer I mainly sleep outside.”
“Oh?”
He kept an arm around her waist as she stumbled along beside him. Thank goodness the main bedroom was opposite the parlor, as she wouldn’t have made it otherwise.
He shouldered the door open. There was a large double bed covered by a faded patchwork quilt. The dressing table had a dirty mirror, and there were the same limp curtains as the parlor. If she hadn’t been so exhausted she would have burst out crying again.
“It’s not too bad, you can easily pretty it up. I’ll go bring in all your stuff.”
When he left the room she tottered over to the bed and pulled back the quilt. There was no linen, but the mattress and pillow looked clean. At this very moment I don’t care.
She kicked off her shoes, unbuttoned the top of her gown and let it slide to the floor. Not having the strength to bend down and pick it up, she left it where it fell. She eased herself into the bed, as sudden movement had pain shooting through her head and the back of her eyes. Pulling the quilt up, she sighed with relief and closed her eyes.
Chapter Six
Ben carried the shopping into the bedroom, and stopped just inside the door. Rachael was already in bed asleep. He dumped the parcels on the dresser and crept closer to her. In sleep, she looked vulnerable, much younger than her twenty-one years.
The bruises on her cheeks had faded to yellow. The swelling had left her nose and lips, but she still had black eyes. He suddenly felt ashamed of the cavalier way he had acted toward her. He should have got Eve to tidy the place up a bit. Living with Uncle Samuel for years then living alone, he hadn’t noticed anything wrong with the place. The horrified expression on Rachael’s face filled him with shame.
Dammit all, she wasn’t the usual type of wife. This was a marriage in name only. A temporary arrangement. She received board and keep, and a generous payout at the end of a year. He got to keep the ranch.
He picked up her gown and laid it across the bed. Leaning over, he brushed a wayward curl off her forehead. Her scent intoxicated him. Lavender maybe? It was sweet and potent enough for him to want to inhale deeply. The creamy white breasts peeping over the top of her undergarment caused his manhood to stir. Sonofabitch, she was carrying another man’s child, even if he couldn’t see any sign of it.
What would she look like once the bruising and swelling subsided? He had a gut feeling he was going to be pleasantly surprised. He didn’t like the idea one little bit.
If he didn’t watch himself, he would fall into the honeyed trap women so cunningly set. Never. Remember Susannah. Her treachery killed your brother, and ruined your life.
Glen and Lottie kept telling him to let go of the past, but he couldn’t. Nightmares often woke him up. Enclosed spaces spooked him. Sonofabitch, how was he supposed to forget, when Jesse’s dying words haunted him? “Save yourself little brother. Tell the world what they did to us.”
Tell the world. He gritted his teeth so his temper wouldn’t erupt. The world didn’t want to know about it. Once the war finished, most people wanted to get on with their lives and forget about it. He tip-toed out of the room.
After changing into work clothes, he lit the fire in the kitchen and the fire in the parlor, and headed out the door. He wanted to check with Dusty on how things went in his absence. Ridiculous really, his foreman might be middle-aged, but he was competent. Uncle Samuel had only employed a small crew, but they were the best in the business. He would continue to operate the ranch the same way. At busy times, they employed casual cowboys as needed. Because they paid well and fed the men decently, they never had any problems getting men to work for them.
Uncle Samuel couldn’t read or write, but was a sma
rt man. It was a pity they had been estranged from him for so long. He had never got to hear the full story of why his father and Uncle Samuel fell out. Probably over a woman.
After the war, with the rest of the family dead, he had made contact with the old man, his only living relative, and moved here hoping to leave the bitter memories behind. They had followed him, but he had still managed to carve out a reasonable life here. It had been an added bonus to find Lottie and Glen living in Deadwood.
When they told him about Susannah being shot by the Confederate officer she had betrayed them to, he wasn’t sorry. Saved him from going after her and wringing her pretty neck.
Dusty must have seen him coming; he hurried over.
“Howdy, boss. Ya all hitched up?”
“Yeah.” Dusty was the only man on the ranch who knew about the hasty nuptials. Uncle Samuel had made provision in his Will for Dusty and Eve, and a couple of other old-timers, and he didn’t begrudge them that. They were entitled to it for their loyalty and friendship to the old man over many years.
Had Dusty been in line to inherit the ranch, if he remained a bachelor, he wouldn’t have been so desperate to get hitched, but some New Yorker? Over my dead body.
“Everything all right, son?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s married life suiting ya?”
“It’s not.”
Dusty grinned. “It grows on ya.”
“Yeah, so do warts.”
Dusty chuckled, then became serious. “Ya should try to make this work. Nothing like waking up in the morning with a loving woman lying beside ya.”
“I can buy all the loving I need at the Flaming Star.”
Eve, a plump, smiling woman waddled out. Coming straight up to him, she gave him a rib cracking hug. “Glad ya back, Mr. Ben.”
“Always nice to be home.”
“Ya want a coffee?”
“No thank you.” He smiled at her.
“Where’s ya wife?” she asked. “Did ya pick a biddable gal?”
He told them what had happened to Rachael in Boston and Deadwood.
“Poor dear, that’s so sad,” Eve said. “Maybe I should go to the house and welcome her.”
“She’s asleep. That varmint at the graveyard roughed her up bad. It will take a couple of weeks for her face to get back to normal.” He suddenly wondered what normal was. Why should he care? She could be as ugly as sin, made no difference to him, she’d be gone in a year.
Eve returned to the cabin Dusty had built several years ago. Ben and his foreman sauntered over to the corral.
“Jace and Bert rounded up some fine looking mustangs. We left them for ya to break in. Oh, and I was talking to someone from the fort. The army is looking for mounts.”
“No.”
“They’re prepared to pay top dollar for…”
“Never. I want nothing to do with the army. They left Jesse and I to rot, yet did a swap with the Confederacy for an officer.”
“Forget the war.”
“I can’t.”
“Maybe having a wife will help.”
Ben ground his teeth. Why was everyone so hell-bent on finding a wife for him? It made him mad enough to bite himself. “It won’t make any difference. It’s a marriage in name only. She’ll be gone in a year, that’s what we agreed to.” He grimaced. “I doubt she would have married me otherwise; she’s got no time for men.”
“Ya can hardly blame the gal after what she’s been through.”
They strolled over to the corral so Ben could see the best of the mustangs. He was impressed, and itched to get on the back of the fiery eyed chestnut colt. What a stallion he’d make. He made a note to keep this one. Put to several of his best mares, the progeny would be something special.
“The boys were saying when they were rounding up the mustangs, they saw plump looking cattle wandering in the gullies. Not branded, either.”
Ben’s spirits lifted. “Maybe I’ll take a couple of hands out tomorrow or the next day and round them up.”
He had already been planning a drive. If he took a herd to the railhead in Sioux City, he’d get good prices for them. It would necessitate him being away from the ranch for a few weeks. Dusty would see to the running of the ranch like he always did.
Ben decided to work off some of his unused energy chopping wood. With Rachael in the house it was necessary to have fires going in the kitchen and the parlor, and this would eat up the wood. When he was home he normally only lit the stove in the kitchen. Often as not, he didn’t bother to light it at all, preferring to have his meals with the boys in the bunkhouse, or with Dusty and Eve.
A long session of steady chopping had sweat pouring off his body, but he was pleased with the pile of logs he had cut. He placed them in a lean-to in the backyard. With the axe over his shoulder, he strode on to the back porch. As he pushed open the kitchen door, he sniffed appreciably at the appetizing aromas wafting on the late afternoon air. Apple pie? His mouth watered.
Inside the kitchen he stopped dead. A tray of hot biscuits reposed on the table. Automatically his hand shot out to grab one, and he let out a yelp when it burnt his hand.
Rachael swung around. Her cheeks were rosy from the heat of the stove. Her hair was tied back, with a few damp tendrils curling around her face. With color in her cheeks, the ugly bruising did not stand out so much.
“Been cooking?” A ridiculous statement, but he was at a loss for words. She was an attractive gal, much against his will, his heart beat escalated. Probably better for him if she was a hag. Still, a man had his pride, and if he had to have a wife at his side, he wanted a presentable one.
“Oh, Ben, you’re back.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d still be lying down.”
“I did sleep for a while, but I like being busy.”
“Busy?” He nodded his thanks for the steaming mug of coffee she placed before him. The kitchen had been cleaned up, not a speck of dust here now. Dishes he had left lying around had been put away. The grubby curtains had been taken down.
She followed his gaze. “I washed them.”
He didn’t recall seeing them on the washing line but he hadn’t been looking. Eve had always done the washing for him and Uncle Samuel.
“You didn’t need to do all this work.”
“I don’t like dirt and untidiness.”
His hackles rose. “The place was a little untidy and dusty, definitely not dirty.”
“Well, it was to me. Try a biscuit and tell me what you think.”
He took a bite out of a current biscuit and grinned his appreciation. “Very nice.”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I found some sheets in the cupboard and put them on my bed.”
“I told you, do whatever you like, just don’t enter my room – ever.”
She turned her head away. “I didn’t.”
He knew she had, her expression was guilt ridden. Dammit, he didn’t want her snooping around his belongings. Not that there was anything much to find. It was the principle of the thing that rankled.
“You can have the run of the house. Do what you like in it, but I expect you to respect my privacy, and to stay out of my room.”
“All right.” She hung her head slightly. “I did take a peek from the doorway. I didn’t enter the room, though.”
“All right, just stay away. It isn’t much to ask.”
“It needs a good clean up, there’s dust everywhere, and…”
His angry snort stopped her flow of words.
“I like it as it is. Every now and again I tidy it up.”
“Not very often by the looks of it.”
“That’s my business. Another thing.” He hesitated. “I sometimes have nightmares, scream and thresh around. When I do, stay away from me in case I become violent.”
“Violent!”
“I have been known to. I can’t stand confined spaces. I often sleep out on the porch.”
“Oh, Ben.” She reached out to pick up his hand.
<
br /> He snatched it away. “I can deal with it, but I thought it only fair to warn you, so you don’t get frightened.”
“I understand, thank you for telling me. It can’t have been easy telling a stranger all this.”
A stranger! She was his wife. Dammit. What was he thinking? Temporary wife, and he didn’t want her interfering in his life. She would be gone within a year.
***
Supper was a silent meal. Ben ate, thanked her for the omelets and apple pie, but brooded silently. She said nothing, not liking to intrude on his thoughts.
She had worked hard to clean the place up and prepare a decent meal for him, so something more than a gruff thanks would have been appreciated. Of course, being pleasant to her wasn’t part of their arrangement. Sometimes he looked like he hated her. Why should that hurt?
This could be a comfortable home with a little care and attention. She had been shocked on peeking into his room. It was austere, containing only a bed and a wardrobe. There was not one personal item to be seen.
The washhouse had been an eye opener. It contained a concrete trough, a large copper, and a tin bathtub. There was a well near the kitchen door, and in the backyard several blossom covered fruit trees. Had this been her permanent home, she would have planted a herb garden. A large lavender bush grew near the washing line. If she crushed some of the leaves and scattered them throughout the house, it would get rid of the closed up, musty smell. Once the bush flowered, she would dry out the blooms and fill up little lace or gauze bags to hang in the wardrobes. It was her favorite plant, so versatile, not to mention the beautiful perfume.
“I was thinking,” Ben mused. “Why don’t I invite Dusty and Eve over one evening for supper? After you’ve settled in, that is.”
“I’d like that. I could cook something special, especially if you can provide me with meat.”
“Meat. That’s one thing I have plenty of. I’ll be breaking in a few horses tomorrow morning if you feel up to strolling over to the corral. You can see how good I am at it.” He grinned, it took years off his age, and she saw the young man he must have once been before war took its toll on him.
The Cowboy and the Quaker Page 5