Marriage By Necessity

by Christine Rimmer

  But neither Meggie’s happiness nor Nate’s apparent contentment could stop the seasons from changing. Jealously, Meggie noted the signs of autumn’s approach. The blackbirds gathered in the fields, getting ready for the long trip south. And the geese could be seen flying in their vee formations through the cloudy sky. The cottonwoods along Crystal Creek started to turn. And mornings brought frost that blackened the leaves of Farrah’s pumpkin vines.

  Meggie and Sonny discussed the different offers that had been made on the steers they were planning to sell.

  They were still holding out, at that point, for a better price.

  One September morning, Meggie and Nate decided they’d take the GMC pickup out to what they called the Ridge Pasture, a couple of miles from the house. They had loaded the back of the pickup with half barrels full of a molasses-based vitamin-and-mineral supplement, which they fed to the cattle to round out their diet.

  Meggie pointed to the black clouds rolling in over Cloud Peak. “Storm coming,” she said. She was smiling. She loved a storm, loved the charged smell in the air as the storm clouds gathered.

  “We can beat it,” Nate said.

  They took off at Nate’s usual breakneck pace, along the dirt roads made by mining companies and oil speculators that crisscrossed the ranch. In the Ridge Pasture, the empty tubs were ranged along the crest of the high ridge after which the pasture had been named, away from any water source. To get to the sweet, sticky mixture, the cattle had to move around, rather than sticking by their favorite holes, eating the grass down to nothing in one spot. Nate shifted the pickup into low and it groaned its way up the dirt road to the crest.

  At ridgetop, under a heavy, threatening sky, they jumped out and began switching the full barrels for the empty ones, which they tossed into the back of the pickup. Lightning forked down on a neighboring ridge just as the last empty barrel hit the pickup bed. The air smelled of ozone. Thunder reverberated across the dry, waiting land.

  All at once, the wind grew fierce. The soot-black clouds piled overhead began to drop their rain. Meggie tipped up her face and opened her mouth. The wetness tasted wonderful. She giggled to herself.

  She could almost hear her father’s voice. “Meggie May, you’re a dum fool. You want to make yourself a human lightning rod?”

  So all right. She was a durn fool. And it felt terrific. Lightning flashed again and thunder struck out and rolled, booming, off toward the mountains. The rain came thick and fast, big, cold, sloppy drops, blown hard against her by the whipping wind.

  Down by the creek in the lower part of the pasture, everything had become shrouded in mist.

  The rain turned to hail just as Nate grabbed her hand. “Come on!”

  She went with him, into the cab of the truck.

  The hail pelted the roof, pinging and snapping. Unlike Meggie, who was having a ball, Nate had his mind on getting the hell back to the house before the roads turned to gumbo. He reached for the key he’d left stuck in the ignition.

  And Meggie put her hand on his arm. She laughed.

  God, he did love her laugh....

  “Nate. Wait. Listen.”

  He looked at her. Water dripped off the brim of her hat and onto the seat between them. She was soaked through. And so was he.

  “We should get the hell back to the house,” he grumbled.

  “It’s all right. The lightning can’t hurt us now that we’re in the truck.”

  “What about the roads, Meggie?”

  She wrinkled her nose, because she had no answer to that one. Finally, she simply shrugged. “Forget the roads.”

  “Meggie...”

  “Shh.”

  “Meggie.”

  “You’re not listening.”

  “Listening to what?”

  She pointed at the roof of the cab, her head cocked, one eyebrow lifted. “Hear that?”

  “Right. Hail. What a surprise.”

  “No. Imagine we’re popcorn. Popping.”

  He glared at her for a moment more, and then couldn’t keep it up. The hail beating down on the pickup did sound a little like corn exploding in a hot pan.

  She slid across the seat and right up against him. “Nate.” She took off his hat and dropped it on the dashboard. And then she did the same with her own. She nuzzled his neck.

  “What are you up to?” he asked, though he had a pretty good idea. And so did his body. Already his jeans had become too snug.

  “Nate,” was all she said. She put her hand on his cheek and guided his mouth around. And then her lips touched his, cool at first, from the rain and the wind. But not cool for long...

  With a groan, Nate gave himself to the kiss.

  He loved the taste of her; so clean and sweet. And the smell of her, that woodsy scent with something flowery in it, just a little bit musky now, from tossing the mineral tubs around.

  Outside, the hail had turned to rain again. The two in the cab didn’t notice.

  Nate pulled Meggie’s thermal shirt out of her jeans and undid her bra. But he didn’t take anything off, just in case someone happened to come along.

  With a low laugh, she leaned back against the passenger door and stuck out a boot. “Pull.”

  Nate pulled—one wet boot and then the other. He helped her shimmy out of her jeans and her white cotton panties, too. Then he slid over to join her on the passenger side of the seat, so the steering wheel wouldn’t interfere.

  The windows had fogged over completely by the time she unzipped him and got his own clothes out of the way enough that she could mount him. He slid into her heat and softness, groaning with the sweet agony of it.

  “Nate, Nate, Nate...” She whispered his name against his lips as she rode him in slow, long, deep strokes. Now and then, she would pause, with him halfway out of her. He would stand it for as long as he could. And then, with a moan, he would take her hips and pull her down onto him again.

  Outside, the hard rain slowed to a steady downpour. To Nate, the drumming sound of it against the roof and hood of the pickup was mesmerizing. Erotic.

  Meggie moaned and kissed him. Her body moved on his. He didn’t know what it was about her. Somehow, she made it all stronger, fiercer, more complete—and more plain fun—than any sex he’d ever had. She fit him just right, as maybe he’d always known that she would. She knew how to laugh. And how to play. When to tease. And when to give him what he wanted without any frills.

  He let his head drop back as completion rolled over him, mowing him down like a waiting hay field under the blades of a relentless swather. He pushed himself high and hard into her. She whimpered—and pushed right back. He felt her going over with him, her body expanding and contracting around him. He reached out, blindly, and pulled her close against him, rucking up her shirt and bra so that he could feel her bare skin.

  For several minutes, they just sat there, all wrapped up together in the steamy cab, as the rain droned on outside.

  Finally, he muttered, “We’re in for it now, trying to get out of here.”

  She had her hands under his shirt and was idly stroking him. “We’ll manage.”

  He returned the favor, running his hands back and forth along the smooth length of her bare thighs. She sighed a little and nuzzled closer. Nate went on caressing her, thinking that he almost wished they would never make that baby, that they could just go on working at it indefinitely.

  And boy, had they been working at it. Once or twice a night, since the wedding. And sometimes in the daytime, like now. Any time the slightest opportunity presented itself. If that doctor in Billings had been right about them, she should be pregnant already.

  He frowned, his hand going still on her thigh as he realized that, to his knowledge, she hadn’t had a period since he had started sleeping in her bed. But then he relaxed again, as he remembered those days he had been gone. The two trips had been just about a month apart.

  . With a long sigh, he rolled his head toward the driver’s side of the cab. Through the fog on the windo
w, he saw something move.

  “Meggie,” he whispered low.

  “Um?”

  He signaled with his head. She looked over.

  Meggie gasped. “Oh, dear Lord...”

  And then Nate reached out and brushed a hand over the foggy glass. As the glass cleared, they found themselves staring into the wide, solemn eyes of a Hereford steer.

  Meggie leaned across the seat. “You are steak,” she said to the long, white face on the other side of the window.

  The steer turned his head and let out an extended, thoroughly insolent, “Mooo!”

  Fall work began.

  They gathered the cattle they planned to drive to the feedlots for sale. Gathering days were long ones, spent mostly in the saddle, herding and moving the culls into separate pastures from the breeding stock and the calves.

  Soon after fall gathering came shipping day, when they drove the cattle to the feedlots, where the vet and the brand inspector checked them over and then Meggie collected her money from the buyers waiting there.

  In the last weeks of October, they began weaning the calves. Weaning allowed the cows a little time to build up their nutritional stores, before the calves that were growing inside them started draining off their energy once again.

  By then, the long Wyoming winter had begun to close in. Meggie, Nate and Sonny gathered and moved the calves with the wind in their faces and sleet stinging their cheeks. During weaning, they also took the time to put the calves in the chute and pour Spot-On over their backs, a topical medication for the control of grubs. They had the vet over to vaccinate the heifers against certain contagious diseases. In the end, weaning amounted to a lot of messy work in bad weather.

  But they got through it. By the first week of November, that year’s calves were on their own.

  And Nate wanted to return to L.A.

  Meggie knew it was time to go. But she didn’t even want to think about leaving. She wanted to go on as they had been. She longed to enjoy with Nate the relatively quiet time that was coming up, to spend the holidays together with him here, at home.

  She knew she had no right to want those things. She had vowed not to cling or try to hold him. And stalling about leaving brought her perilously close to breaking her vow.

  But she didn’t care. She cheated on her vow and stalled. Twice, when he reminded her that they had to make plans to leave, she pretended not to hear him. The third time he brought the subject up, they were in bed. Since she was lying right on top of him, kissing him, it was pretty difficult to fake inattention. So she suddenly found she had to go to the bathroom. She slid out of the bed.

  “Meggie, what the hell—” Nate demanded.

  “I’ll be back in a flash.”

  “Meggie...”

  She flew across the room and disappeared into the bathroom before he could say any more. She stayed in there for a very long time. And when she came out, he’d turned off the bedside lamp.

  “Nate?” she asked nervously into the darkness.

  “Come to bed, Meggie,” he answered, sounding resigned. “Go to sleep.”

  But Meggie knew that Nate wasn’t the kind of man a woman could stall for long. And she was right. After dinner on the second Saturday in November, she went up to the room they shared and found him packing. He zipped up the big duffel bag he used for a suitcase and carried it with finality over to the door where she stood watching him.

  He dropped the bag at her feet. “I’m leaving in the morning.”

  She looked down at the bag and then up at him, her love for him washing over her like a powerful wave, cutting off her air. She wanted to grab him. And hold him. And never let him go.

  “Cash will fly me to Denver,” he said. Cash had his own plane. “And from there, I’ve got a direct flight to LAX.”

  His hair had gotten hung up on the collar of his shirt. She reached out and freed it, then stroked it smooth.

  He caught her hand. “Are you coming with me?”

  She closed her eyes, swallowed and then made herself drag in a breath and speak. “I’ll...be along.”

  He looked at her piercingly. And then he dropped her hand. “I know you don’t want to leave. I know how you are, about this ranch. About your life here. But I have to go, Meggie. I have a damn life, too, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “I can’t keep turning down jobs. Word gets out I’m unavailable. It cuts into the offers I get.”

  She thought of the money she’d wanted him to take. It would have helped to make up for the business he’d lost. But she wasn’t going to bring up the money. He’d made himself more than clear on that issue. “I understand.”

  “We agreed—”

  She reached out, put her fingers over his lips. “Shh. I know. I just...need a little time. Is that okay?”

  “Hell.” He grabbed her wrist. And then his lips were moving against her fingers, kissing them.

  “Oh, Nate...”

  He tugged. She went into his arms. His mouth came down on hers, hot and demanding, full of fire and need.

  He kicked the door closed, scooped her up and carried her over to the bed.

  Nate woke well before dawn. He turned his head and looked at Meggie. She slept on her side, facing him, a slight frown marring her brow. He wanted to reach out and stroke that frown away. But he knew if he woke her, she’d only try to keep him from going.

  And not with words. Meggie May Kane was too honorable a woman to argue against something she’d already agreed to. No, she would work to hold him with looks. And with touches. With soft sighs. With the formidable power her sweet body had over his.

  But Nate Bravo did not intend to be held—no matter how tempting the looks, the sighs and the caresses. He’d never lied to her about that. He was doing what he could for her. If she wanted to keep her ranch, she would just have to come to L.A. as she had agreed to do.

  The frown lines faded as he watched her face. Her wide mouth turned up in a dreamy smile. She made a small, contented sound and snuggled lower into the nest of blankets.

  All he wanted at that moment was to touch her. To put his hands and his mouth on her. To pull back the blankets and—

  He had to get the hell out. Now.

  Quietly, he turned toward his side of the bed and slid carefully out from under the covers. The room was icy. But he didn’t mind the cold. It got his blood pumping faster, made him want to hurry. He pulled on his clothes—all but his boots—mindful not to make the slightest sound. Finally, he took an envelope from a side pocket of his bag. Just as he was propping it against the alarm clock on the nightstand, Meggie rolled toward him with a sigh. He froze.

  But she didn’t wake. She slept on. And he stood there like the fool he’d somehow allowed himself to become for her, watching. Wanting...

  Nate closed his eyes. He sucked in a slow breath. And then he turned, scooped up his bag and walked out the door.

  Meggie opened her eyes at the sound of the front door closing downstairs. Instantly wide-awake, she looked over her shoulder to where Nate should be sleeping. He wasn’t there.

  With a small, frantic cry, she threw off the covers, scooped up her nightgown from the end of the bed and yanked it over her nakedness. She heard a car door creak open outside, so she flew to the window. Below, in the yard, melting patches of dirty white spotted the dark, bare ground, the remains of the first real snowfall a few days before. She watched Nate toss his bag into the pickup and then climb in after it.

  Meggie shivered. The floor felt like a slab of ice under her bare feet; the fire she always left burning in the old black heat stove downstairs must have gone completely out. Rooted to the spot in spite of the cold, she wrapped her arms around herself and stared out the window as the reluctant engine of the pickup sputtered to life. She went on watching as Nate drove down the drive, past the bunkhouse and the barn, the corrals and the outbuildings, toward the gate that led to the road. She didn’t move from the window until he turned onto the road and she could no longer
see his taillights through the thick darkness of the cloudy, moonless night.

  Her gaze fell on the envelope propped on the nightstand. She grabbed it and dropped to the edge of the bed, scooping up her heavy shawl from the bedpost and wrapping it around herself. As she tore into the envelope, her toes found their way into her warm sheepskin slippers, which she always kept waiting by the side of the bed.

  Inside the envelope she found a business card and a key. She reached out and flipped on the lamp. The card read Bravo Investigative Services at the top, then on the second line: DOMESTIC * CIVIL * CRIMINAL. Below that, with asterisks between, was a list of the kinds of services he performed: Background Checks ∗ Missing Persons ∗ Child Custody ∗ Skip Tracing ∗ Premarital ∗ Divorce ∗ Process Serving. At the bottom was the phone number she’d found in the L.A. phone book four months before, and what appeared to be the number of his private investigator’s license.

  Meggie turned the card over. On the back Nate had scrawled an address, an apartment number and another phone number—presumably, his private phone. His message was clear: she had his address and the key to his apartment. The rest was up to her.

  Up to her...

  Meggie’s stomach clenched. And then she felt everything in it start to rise.

  Tossing the card and the key on the nightstand, she ran for the bathroom.

  Chapter Six

  The porcelain commode was so cold Meggie’s hands ached when she touched it, but still she was grateful to have made it in time. When the heaving finally stopped, she sat in a heap for long minutes, bent over the bowl, waiting, just in case it wasn’t over. Finally, when nothing more came up, she slumped against the tub beside her, breathing slowly and carefully, feeling weak, lost and lonely.

  And more than a little bit guilty.

  She had not had a period since before her wedding night. And she had been sure, for weeks now, that she was carrying Nate’s baby.

  Strange, she thought bleakly, as she clutched her shawl closer around her, how easy it had been to maintain the lie. At first, she had told herself that she couldn’t be absolutely certain. What did a missed period or two mean, after all?