Thane kissed her hand again then moved on to her wrist before raising his head with the smirk she had come to love. “I know the difference, Jem. I wasn’t referring to you as a woman of noble birth. I refer to you as mine. My lady.”
Flustered by his words and his amorous attention to her hand, Jemma didn’t know what to say. In fact, so befuddled by the man, she sat with her eyes locked to his, wondering what it would be like if he kissed her again.
At night, she curled on her side and inhaled Thane’s masculine scent, reliving in her dreams the kiss from their wedding, the few times he’d kissed her cheek, and the touch of his lips on her bare shoulder the first morning they awoke at the ranch.
If she cared to admit it, which she most certainly did not, she’d even entertained the notion of taking Thane’s fine-looking face in her hands and kissing him with all the longing he stirred in her heart. A lady would never do such a brazen thing.
However, wearing her split skirt and riding astride a western saddle out in the arid country of Eastern Oregon with her handsome husband, she felt her inhibitions starting to slip. Before they fell completely away, she pulled her hand from Thane’s grasp, took her glove from him and slipped it back on, then turned to look out over the landscape.
“I heard you and Sam discussing the weather this morning. Do you truly think it will snow soon?” Weather seemed like a safe topic that wouldn’t cause her thoughts to rattle around in her head like rocks in a tin can.
Good heavens! She was starting to think like a westerner!
“Why? Are you in a hurry to have me trapped in the house with you for the winter? I can think of a few enjoyable ways we could pass the long, dark evenings.”
Suggestively, he waggled an eyebrow at her. Accustomed to his teasing, she shook her head and smiled. “I shall not even bother to respond to that statement, sir.”
When she nudged Jael into a trot, Thane rode beside her on Ghost. “Why not? I think I deserve to hear your thoughts on the matter.”
Thoroughly disappointed she didn’t splutter at him in feigned disgust, he wondered if he was losing his touch or she had decided not to let him annoy her. Either way, he missed seeing her eyes spark at his implication.
She glared at him. “What if I responded that I thought it was a brilliant idea?” The confounded look on his face made her laugh. Before he recovered his composure, she urged the horse to run.
Thane pulled his hat down and gave Ghost his head, letting him chase after Jael down a well-worn path.
As they raced back to the ranch yard, the two horses seemed to enjoy the fast-paced ride as much as their owners. Reining to a stop outside the barn, Thane grinned as Jemma jumped down and patted Jael on the neck.
She looked breathtaking with wind-whipped cheeks, her eyes shining brightly from the excitement of their race, and her hair falling around her face in silky tendrils. The speed of the ride left her hat dangling by a ribbon around her neck while her hair threatened to fall out of the confines of her hairpins. Full of graceful movements, she removed Jael’s saddle and led her around to cool her down.
He walked Ghost along behind her, enjoying the view provided by her split skirt. Eventually, they took the horses into the barn, brushed them down, and fed them. Jemma started to shove the trunk they’d left sitting in the aisle of the barn back toward the stack. Thane stepped in front of her, lifting it and setting it aside before stacking the remainder of the trunks. He set it on top, in case she wanted something from it later.
She picked up her discarded shoes and began meandering toward the house but Thane pulled her to a stop before she left the barn.
“Jemma, I um…” Tongue-tied and uncharacteristically nervous, he struggled to express himself. “It was… I meant to say… I enjoyed riding with you today. I hope we can do it again soon.”
“Thank you, Thane. I enjoyed it as well. The ranch is truly beautiful. Thank you for showing it to me.”
“I’m sorry it took so long. I meant to take you out last week, but things have been so busy.”
Jemma placed her hand on his arm and looked into his face. “I understand. I know you have many responsibilities to see to and you can’t spend all your time with the children.”
Although he loved Jack and Lily, he didn’t feel a desperate need to be close to them. Rather, it was the beguiling woman beside him, with her hand burning a hole through his shirtsleeve, who constantly captured his attention.
“I better relieve Sam of the children. I’m sure he has grown tired of Lily asking ‘why’ and Jack wanting to find you or play with the dogs or ride his horse. Thank you for giving him his own horse, by the way. He hasn’t stopped talking about it since the moment you put the reins in his hands.”
“Every rancher needs a good horse. Jack will grow into Nick.”
As she recalled Jack’s excitement at having his own horse, she smiled at Thane. “It meant so much to him for you to entrust an animal to his care.”
He nodded as she turned back toward the barn door. One of Lily’s doll dresses on the ground caught her eye. When she bent over to pick it up, Thane reached out and brushed his hand over the curve of her rear.
She shot upright as if she’d been branded. Fire blasted from her eyes as she spun around and glared at him. “Mr. Jordan, that is completely and absolutely unacceptable. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And wipe that smirk off your face!”
“That, I can’t do.” Thane’s wicked smile did little to calm her pounding heart or the breath she drew in with tight, short gasps. He touched his fingers to his hat, strolled out of the barn, then looked back at her with a wink.
Frustrated, she stamped her booted feet then marched to the bunkhouse. She wanted to chase after Thane, spin him around, and slap his face — or kiss him until she lost what little sense she had left. The thrilling sensations created by his hand on her posterior made her wonder what it would be like to truly be Thane’s wife.
Heat seared her cheeks and she took a moment to gather her composure before entering the bunkhouse. As she opened the door and stepped inside, Lily sat at one end of the table drawing a picture with a pencil while Jack and Sam worked on oiling bridles at the other end.
With a calming breath, she forced a smile to her face and held out her hands. “Did you have fun with Sam, my darlings?”
“Auntie Jemma!” Lily hopped down from the bench and ran over to her, eager to be cuddled and showered with kisses.
Jemma gave her an extra squeeze before setting her down and walking over to where Jack and Sam worked. As she placed her hand on Jack’s shoulder, she looked at Sam.
“Your afternoon went well?”
“Yes, ma’am. We had us a good time and even made some cookies that ain’t half bad.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Auntie Jemma. Try one of our cookies. Please?” Lily tugged on her hand until she sat down at the table and accepted a cookie from the plate Sam held out to her.
Lily climbed on her lap and Jemma handed her the doll dress. “I thought I told you not to play in the barn, Lily.”
“I didn’t. Pepper took my dolly’s dress.” Lily’s lip inched out in a pout.
Jemma looked to Jack and Sam. The cook nodded his head. “She was playing on the porch and Pepper grabbed the doll. Jack got it away from the dog, but the dress came off in the process.”
“I see. We’ll have to get your dolly a clean dress when we return to the cabin.” Jemma patted Lily’s back and smiled. The little girl leaned against her, wiggling her feet as she hummed a tune known only to her.
“Did you enjoy your ride?” Sam asked, pouring two cups of coffee and setting one down in front of Jemma.
She gave him a grateful nod and took a sip, although she would have much preferred tea. “Thane accompanied me. I enjoyed his tour of the ranch. It’s quite a large place, isn’t it?”
Sam grinned. “Yep, boss has a big spread with more than ten thousand acres.
Not too many places are that big, but that includes the mountain property.”
Jemma choked on her sip of coffee. Thane hadn’t showed her thousands of acres on their ride. “What do you mean ten thousand acres?”
“The ranch. I thought you said Thane gave you a tour?” Sam gave her an odd look.
Jemma described where they went and Sam shook his head. “That’s just the acreage around the home place.” He lumbered to his feet and motioned for her to follow him outside.
Sam pointed toward the mountains in the distance as they stepped away from the bunkhouse. “You see the tree line at the base of the snow on the mountains?”
Jemma nodded.
“Thane’s holdings go from the trees to the west of us to just past where the railroad cuts through on the east. He owns all the ground south of us for about five miles and north for about two miles.”
Shocked, Jemma sank down on a porch chair and stared at Sam. “How did Thane acquire all this property?”
Sam laughed and took a chair close to hers. As he leaned back, he stuck out his legs and crossed his boot-clad feet at the ankle. “Gold, mostly. He still owns three… no, four mines around these parts. The railroad paid him a pretty penny to lay track out there, too. Thane’s got more money than he could spend in ten lifetimes. Sounds like his brother did well, too.”
Stunned by this revelation, she tried to embrace the notion that her husband was a wealthy man long before he set foot in England. From his manners, his work-grade clothing — everything about him, she assumed he didn’t have much money of his own. Shortly after meeting him, she realized he didn’t want Henry’s money, although it would have been an enticement for most men, especially considering the circumstances.
Determined to understand her husband, she turned to Sam. “If he has an abundance of funds, why does he live in such a small cabin? Why doesn’t he hire someone to manage his ranch and enterprises? Why does he work so hard?”
Sam studied her for a long moment. “That’s just Thane. He don’t put on airs, try to be someone or something he ain’t. He’s just a hard working man doing something he loves. He wouldn’t hire someone to do what he can do himself. As for the cabin and such, Thane is of the opinion money shouldn’t be wasted on things that ain’t necessary. He had somewhere to sit at a table and sleep in a bed that kept the cold, rain, and varmints off him. That took care of the necessary.”
“I see.” In truth, Jemma didn’t see anything clearly. Thane was cut from a different cloth than any other man she knew, Henry included. He’d been generous with her and the children, but part of her resented the fact Henry left everything to a brother he hadn’t seen in fourteen years.
She recalled all the things Thane purchased for them, for her. Jemma held a new respect for the man. Most likely, all the money he’d spent on her and the children was his own, not what he inherited from Henry.
Admittedly, her husband was a solid, good, caring man, even if he teased her mercilessly and made her think things no lady should.
Chapter Seventeen
“Mercy!” Jemma grabbed the skillet off the stove, yelping in pain as the hot handle seared her palm. Clanging the cast-iron pan back down, she snatched a dishtowel off the counter and picked it up again before setting it on the table with a thud.
Jack and Lily stared at the steaks in the pan. No longer thick and juicy, the meat more closely resembled the jerky they’d seen the men eating one day as they rode in from the range.
“That isn’t the way Sam makes it.” Jack poked at the steak with his finger. The shriveled, blackened meat appeared anything but appetizing.
Near tears, with her hand throbbing from her burn, Jemma tried to think of something else she could fix for dinner, now that she’d ruined the steaks. It would be only a few moments before Thane walked through the door, expecting a hot meal. Fretful, she wondered if he’d complain about fried eggs and ham again. She’d been trying to learn to make American foods he seemed to enjoy, but some things she had yet to master. Like steak.
“Auntie Jemma?” Jack’s voice sounded troubled, drawing her from her thoughts.
“What is it, lovey?” Jemma smiled at the boy. He appeared to have grown two inches in the weeks they’d been at the ranch.
“There’s smoke coming from the oven.” Jack pointed to the stove where puffs of smoke began to fill the room with a burnt odor.
“No! Not the biscuits!” Jemma grabbed the towel again, yanked open the oven door and choked as a billow of smoke wafted into her face.
Frantically flapping the towel, she grabbed the pan of hard, blackened orbs and dumped it into the sink, pumping water over the mess.
Jack ran to the door to let in fresh air but before he could reach it, Thane swung it open and rushed inside.
“Is everyone okay? I saw smoke.” Concerned, he glanced around but his panic gave way to mirth as he took in the soggy biscuits in the sink and smoke drifting away from the open oven door. He bent down and winked at Jack. “Guess we better eat at the bunkhouse tonight, huh?
“Yes, sir!” Jack grabbed his coat and tugged it on, starting out the door, but Thane called him back. “Take Lily with you.” Thane helped her on with her coat, kissed her cheek, and shooed her out the door with her brother.
Thane fanned the door a few moments until the worst of the smoke cleared. Quietly closing it, he strode over to where Jemma stood at the sink, unmoving. After pushing open the window, he watched her shiver in the chilly air that blew around them, pulling out the last of the smoke.
“Jem?”
Unusually quiet, her gaze lingered on the ruined biscuits, ignoring his presence behind her.
A big, warm hand touched her arm. “What’s wrong? This isn’t the first pan of biscuits you’ve ruined.”
Instead of glaring at him or offering a barbed retort, she sniffled and stepped away.
“Jemma?” Thane put a hand on her shoulder, turning her around. Tears dripped down her cheeks, through a streak of flour by her nose. “What’s wrong?”
“I burned your steak and the biscuits. It’s impossible to cook your blasted American food properly and I think my hand may require medical attention.” The words burst out of her followed by a sob as she turned her head away from Thane.
He lifted both her hands and examined them, noticing the raw, red blister on the palm of her left hand.
“Here, run some water on it.” Thane held her hand beneath the faucet while he pumped water on the burn. She bit her lip as water cooled the spot. After letting the water run over it for a minute, Thane dried her hand then took a box from the top shelf of a cupboard and removed a tin of salve and a roll of gauze. Carefully rubbing the medicine onto her palm, he wrapped it with a length of the gauze then kissed her fingers.
When he held her hand to his lips with heat flaming in his eyes, Jemma forgot about the burn, their ruined dinner, and everything except Thane.
“Thank you,” she whispered, gazing at his face. He hadn’t shaved the past few mornings, and golden stubble covered his cheeks and jaw.
Her focus centered on his mouth. His full bottom lip intrigued her, as it had so many times in the past and she wondered what it would be like to kiss it again. To kiss it as a woman who loved Thane, not just the wife he felt compelled to marry.
Before she surrendered to her longings, she backed away from him and walked over to the table, glaring at the ruined steaks.
“It’s a pity to ruin such lovely cuts of beef,” she said, starting to pick up the skillet in her right hand, holding her bandaged hand at her waist. Thane took the pan from her and opened the cabin door. Whistling for the dogs, he gave each one a piece of tough, overcooked beef and warned Rigsly to share before shutting the door. He set the skillet in the sink and filled it with water to let it soak. Since the room had sufficiently aired, he closed the window before turning back to Jemma.
“I admit I’m a little disappointed I won’t be having steak and buttermilk biscuits for supper, but it isn’t worth cr
ying over, Jem. You’re doing fine and I don’t mind eating the um… interesting dishes you’ve cooked.”
“You don’t like my cooking?”
The accusing glare she sent him made him uneasy. “You’re a good cook, Jemma, it’s just that English food in general seems kind of bland compared to what I’m used to. I noticed that when I was in England. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you all horde spices like precious jewels.”
The starch left her spine as she slumped into a chair. She crossed her arms in front of her on the table and buried her head, bursting into another round of sobs.
Thane pulled out the chair beside her, sat down and started rubbing gentle circles on her back, letting her cry. He hadn’t seen her have a good cry since the night they stayed at the Weston’s and he figured she was about due. From what he knew about women, which was precious little, they sometimes needed to cry.
“I’m a terrible cook!” Jemma snuffled, fishing a handkerchief from her apron pocket and dabbing at her tears. “I’m an awful wife, a horrid mother, and I don’t belong on this ranch. I won’t ever grow accustomed to mice in my cupboards, barnyard filth on my floors, or having to use that rickety, vile outhouse!”
Thane grinned to hear her finally use the word outhouse rather than lavatory. In her distraught state, she didn’t notice his amusement at her expense.
“Everything is so hard, and exhausting, and covered in dirt, Thane. There’s a never-ending supply of dirt.”
Jemma did her best to keep the cabin spotless, but it was a futile battle at best. If the wind blew at all, which it did most days, dirt sifted in around the door and windowsills, coating everything in a fine powder. Once it snowed, she wouldn’t have to deal with the dust, but the winters were cold, dark, and long.
Personally, he was glad the weather continued to be mild. It made it easier for him to work until it was too dark to see and Jemma and the kids slept. Waiting until his wife slumbered was the only way he could go to bed, sleeping so close to the object of his desire yet adhering to his promise not to scale the wall she set around herself.
Crumpets & Cowpies: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 1) Page 22