The Cowboy Takes a Bride

by Kristi Rose

  She nodded. “I read recently that there are only two places on earth left where you can go and not hear a sound made by man. Pure natural sounds. I’d like to see what that’s like.”

  She looked forlorn, standing at the top of the hill looking into the sky. Young and beautiful was how he initially had seen her. Scared, too. But now he saw more than that. He easily recognized the loneliness, but Meredith was strong. Through her ran a deeply entrenched desire to be something other than the one left behind, the victim of so much loss. She’d been pale and thin, a bit shaky, and although she was still too thin for him, she’d thickened up some. Color stained her cheeks now, as it had done every day since she began working in the garden. She stood taller and was laughing more. Her hands were often dirty, and her desire to see more, do more, and live more was ever present. Now he understood why she had come to him.

  “Your dad, he must have sold everything out of grief or something.” He handed her a bottle of water, took one for himself, and sat on a small campstool he’d brought. Meredith sat on hers.

  “I thought that at first, but every year he got worse, more controlling. I was accepted into Brown, where both my mother and grandmother went, and he wouldn’t let me go. I went to the local college. I have a teaching degree.” She glanced at him, a small smile on her lips. “Doesn’t really help me here, but when I applied for my first job, my father made sure I didn’t get it, or any other job for that matter.”

  Jace couldn’t understand a father blocking his own child. “Why?”

  Meredith shrugged. “I’ve asked him that a million times. Basically, he wanted me to do what he wanted, when he wanted, for reasons he thought were important. My father is a businessman, and knowing the political climate is essential in his business. I was his tool for getting that information.”

  Jace nodded and squeezed his bottle, water leaking out from beneath the lid. What kind of father did that to his child? Jace thought back to the diner and their brief reception. She’d worn a plastic smile and a vacant look, and now it all made sense. Plus, the headache.

  “Hey, have you had any headaches since you’ve been here? Other than the first day?”

  She looked at him and smiled widely. “No, unless you count the ones from your sister's chatter. Incredible right?”

  Jace snorted. “She does talk a lot. We all have headaches, but Willow excluded, I take the lack of headaches as a good sign. An excellent one actually.” He stroked her cheek before tucking an errant wisp of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry I was an ass today about you coming out here. I say that a lot to you, but I promise I’m trying to outgrow it.”

  She laughed. “Recognizing you have a problem is the first step.” She clapped her hands together in finality. “So…what do we do now?”

  Okay, she needed to move away from the subject. He could understand that. Jace stood, readjusted his hat, and offered her a hand to stand. “Since we’re here, we might as well take a look at the herd and see if any of the cows dropped. Grab your shotgun. Rule number one out here is to always have something for defense at hand.”

  She took his hand, and he pulled her up. For all the toughness she'd developed since coming to the ranch, she still needed gentle touching and tonight, after dinner, he’d try to do his part and show her how much he appreciated her.

  She glanced at the weapon holstered at his flank. “Got it. Carry a weapon. Even if I don't know how to use it.”

  Jace swore under his breath. Yep, her carrying a gun was as useless as tits on a bull. “This is grizzly country. I’m not for the unnecessary injuring of an animal, but I’m all for my friends and family coming home alive, and that includes you. We'll get you caught up on firearms real soon. For now, grab the bear spray.”

  He brushed his lips to hers once, and then again, using his tongue to caress and asking her to let him in. Kissing her, touching her, required a restraint he was learning to develop. He wanted to consume her, swallow her whole like she did him, take her into the blinding world of pleasure he’d become addicted to. With his hands on her hips, he pulled her against him, her fingers grabbing onto his shoulders. Her head went back as he worked kisses down her neck. He stopped at the base of her throat to kiss her scar. He loved the pucker of skin, even more so today because it gave him a place to start kissing her wounds. He was desperate to take her aches away.

  “This?” he asked and kissed the round, raised skin. He glanced at her. Her eyes fluttered open and met his gaze.

  “It’s from a ventilator. I was the only survivor of the plane crash.” Her voice was so low he almost didn’t hear it over the pounding of his heart. A tiny tear fell from her eye, others waiting for their turn.

  Her words sucked the air from him. It all made sense. A girl who nearly lost her life was forced to live a caged existence. Anyone with a spirit would have run at the first chance. Meredith was no exception.

  Screw the cows. There would be enough sunshine after he was done showing his wife how much she meant to him and how desperately he wanted her.

  “Babe,” he said and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so sorry.” He laid her down in the soft grass. Using his hands to do all the talking, he showed her a gentle love. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, he did his damnedest to make Meredith know and feel that she was cherished.

  Chapter 21

  Jace stood beside her, his hand pressed to the small of her back, his mouth close to her ear. “Get centered.”

  They were close enough to home that he could see the big house, their camping technically over now that they were in sight of the ranch. Yet he was trying to extend it as long as he could by finally getting around to teaching her to shoot. He really should get back to the house and check in with Tuck. A couple more rounds, and he'd drag them home. Man, it had been a fantastic four days.

  “Deep breath, narrow your concentration down the sight line of the barrel, and bring the can into focus.” He knew he should keep his mind on the task. Meredith holding a gun for the first time required his undivided attention. Yet, the sight of her, the butt of the gun resting on her shoulder, her legs apart and head bent, sent heat directly to his crotch. He wanted to toss the gun aside and relive what they’d done in the tent last night out in the tall grass of the prairie.

  “Okay, I’m going to do it,” she whispered, leaning forward.

  Jace was instantly hard. He wanted to do it, too, and with her being so willing was all it took. Heck, her getting excited over the sunrise gave him wood. Shoot, watching her clean with those long-ass kitchen gloves made him want to strip her of everything but those stupid gloves and bend her over a table.

  Christ, he was a Neanderthal.

  “Jace?” Her voice was hushed, like she was going to startle the old coffee can away.

  “Yeah?” He was staring at her ass, daydreaming.

  “Can I pull the trigger?”

  He snapped his attention back to the task. “Yeah, deep breath and then pull.”

  A crack split the air, and Meredith staggered backward into him, her derriere pressing to his crotch.

  “Holy crap, that hurt.” The rifle dangled from one hand while she rolled the opposite shoulder back a few times.

  He pushed her away from him before he did something in broad daylight his mother wouldn't be proud of. “You’ll learn to roll with it, and after a few times—”

  “I won’t have any shoulder left so it won’t matter.” She handed him the gun then began to rub her shoulder.

  “It’s not that bad.” He laughed at her exaggeration. “And make note—you hit the can.”

  She spun away to look at the fence. “I did?” she asked in wonder, then did a little dance around him before coming to stop beside him.

  A giant smile broke across her face, her eyes alight with pleasure. “Give me that thing.” She snatched the gun from him and moved to stand in the position he taught her. She lined up her sights on the next can, pumped the lever action, took in a steady breath, and on the exhale, pressed the tr
igger. The can shot off the fence. Meredith worked the lever again, moving to the next can. Of the eight they’d put on the fence, she’d taken six down. Jace was impressed.

  “I think you were meant to be out in the country.” He took the rifle from her and slung it over his shoulder.

  She was beautiful, flushed with pride at her accomplishments. She stood taller, more relaxed. She was transforming before his eyes, and damn if his lifestyle didn’t look good on her.

  “Can we do some more?” Her hand was in her shirt massaging her shoulder.

  “Let’s give it a break until tomorrow.” He pointed to Tuck’s truck headed toward them. “Looks like I gotta get back to business.”

  Meredith’s eyes widened. “I'm okay out here by myself.”

  He checked the gun's chamber. “You will be, but not yet. Now remember, you can’t use this on a bear or mountain lion. You can try to scare them away with it, but it’ll not deter an angry animal.”

  Meredith paled. “Mountain lion? Am I going to have problems with the wildlife?”

  Jace shook his head. “Nope, it’s been a while since a bear came into the yard, and I have only seen one cat out near the foothills. A drought can push them in, but we’re looking at a good, wet summer.”

  Meredith laughed. “That’s good. First bears and now mountain lions.” She shook her head. “That’s kinda scary. I saw this show on National Geographic about grizzlies, and I’ll admit I’m scared of them.”

  “Rightfully so, but mostly they want nothing to do with us and vice versa.”

  Tuck pulled up and flung open the passenger door. “Afternoon newlyweds. I hate to be the one to break this up, but there’s some head counting that needs to be done. Among other things. Oh, and your folks and sister went into town.”

  Jace smiled wanly at Meredith and handed her the rifle. “I keep this in my truck so will you please take it back there and put it behind the seat. You’ll see some shells back there as well. In the house inside the hall closet is another rifle if you need it. Shells on the shelf.”

  She nodded.

  “If I’m not in by sundown—”

  “I’ll grill some cheese or something.”

  “You know it goes between the bread when you grill it, right?” He brushed a strand of hair from her face.

  Meredith laughed. “Is that a wise thing to say to a woman holding a gun?”

  “Point taken.” He stepped back, conflicted because he wanted to kiss her, but uncomfortable with Tuck watching. “You okay with these horses?” He was leaving her to get them both back to the barn. “You can leave the camping stuff in the barn. I'll get to it later.”

  She smiled, nodded, and swayed toward him. “Got it. See ya later.”

  He glanced at Tuck who was watching them like a hawk. He hesitated, couldn't bring himself to do it, so winked at her instead before jumping into the passenger seat. Tuck was driving away before he could slam the door, yammering about all they had to do and how the GPS tagging system, an expensive device they’d implemented to help with location control and herd count, was acting up.

  Though he managed to stay on task, Jace frequently found his thoughts drifting back to the woman waiting at his house. Legally she was his. The last few nights under his hands, she’d given herself to him, yet he wondered what it would feel like if she committed to him mind and body. Committed to the life he had here. It was all easy and fun now because it was novel, and granted she was really taking to it, but there were hurdles and obstacles ahead of them that might make or break them. It was hard going into this backward, although if they’d dated for a few years before getting hitched, they’d be no better off. The good part of the latter scenario was that he might be able to predict obstacles. Not knowing Meredith and learning her triggers made him uncomfortable as he moved forward blind.

  The day passed quickly and weary from the sun’s exposure and mental fatigue, he’d finally made it home long after the sun had set. He found Meredith in the kitchen washing dishes, her movements stiff on the side of her gun arm.

  “Sorry about missing dinner,” he said and leaned against the island. A bowl of salad was before him, and he picked an olive off the top. “This looks good.” He ate another one.

  From the fridge she took a plate wrapped with plastic wrap. “There was nothing thawed so here’s a ham sandwich. I thought about turning it into a Panini, but then I figured why waste the ham.”

  Jace chuckled and peeled away the wrap. “You eat already?” He took a large bite.

  “The sandwich, yeah. I was starving. But I waited on the salad so we could eat together.”

  Man, that did something to him. Filled him with a flush of heat that went straight to his groin.

  She reached for the plastic wrap he’d balled up and tossed on the counter but stopped and shifted arms.

  “Your arm stiff?”

  Meredith nodded. “I tried putting heat on it. I couldn’t find a heating pad so I used a washcloth.”

  “Not the same, huh?”

  She shook her head. “It helped a little. Better than nothing, I suppose.”

  Jace tossed down the sandwich and picked up her hand. “Come on, I got something upstairs that will fix it.” He tugged her around the island and pushed her ahead of him toward the stairs. “In my bathroom.”

  He followed her into the room and pointed to the toilet. “Sit.” She did as he said and chuckled.

  “What’s funny?”

  “When you said you had something upstairs for me, I thought that was your way of trying to get me into bed…” She turned crimson.

  He found the tube he was looking for and squirted a generous supply into his hand. “What makes you think it wasn’t?” Kneeling before her, he said, “Undo another button so I can get my hands in there.” When she did, he took her shoulder between his hands and began to massage.

  Meredith winced. “That smells awful.”

  “But it will feel so good.” He knew of a few other things that would feel good, but he wasn’t sure if she was up to it or not.

  After a few minutes of kneading, Meredith moaned. “You’re right. That’s amazing.” She rolled her head to the side to give him better access.

  He licked his lips.

  He dipped his fingers back into the ointment. “Raise your arm,” he said, embarrassed that his voice was similar to a pubescent teen’s.

  Meredith’s gaze searched his face and then stopped at his lips. With slow and stiff movements, she raised her arm. His fingers skimmed the top of her breast, and when her eyes fluttered closed, Jace knew he wasn’t going to be able to refrain. He needed to figure out how to get her from the bathroom to the bedroom without breaking the mood.

  He eased his hands away, brushing his fingers along her smooth skin. “We’ll let that take and do it again in twenty minutes or so.”

  When he looked at her, she was watching him, her lip tucked between her teeth. “Okay,” she said before pouncing on him, forcing him back against the cold floor, her hands pulling up his shirt. “I have an idea of how we can spend that time.” Her own shirt slid off her shoulder, exposing one breast cupped beneath a lacy, white bra.

  “Hell, yeah,” he said and went for the button on her jeans. They never made it to the bed, taking breaks to rub cream over achy bits. Their dinner was forgotten.

  This was why only the essentials got done around the ranch.

  Chapter 22

  Life with Jace’s parents back at the ranch was better than Meredith anticipated. Overwhelmed by the transformation of the cabin and how well it suited their needs, Marjory and Pops, as he demanded to be called, slipped right into her heart, becoming part of the fibers that held together the fabric. When Marjory had wrapped Meredith into a tight hug and thanked her for Meredith’s work on the cabin, kissing her forehead much like Meredith’s mother had always done, something buried deep inside Meredith broke free and stretched outward with such a powerful yearning that it nearly brought Meredith to her knees.

&nbs
p; Granted, life on the ranch would never compare to the home she’d had with her mother, nothing could replace that, but this life was darn close, and on some level just as good. Each morning she, Willow, and Marjory would cook breakfast for the men, Meredith learning at Marjory’s elbow, repeating the training at dinner and burning less every day. Meredith, always an eager student, was quick to make meal suggestions and was encouraged to try new things. She wondered if she was sometimes doing too much, going overboard with being helpful, but after being stifled for so long, she couldn't help herself.

  Meredith found conversation with Pops easy. Maybe because she wanted to know more about the man who helped cultivate Jace. He had a laid-back manner, a quick laugh, and would regale her with stories of mishaps on the ranch.

  They were standing at the fence in a corral where the horses were eating when Pops caught her staring at a large and beautiful white horse.

  “You like the look of her?” He nodded toward the horse.

  “She’s beautiful. Anglo-Arab, right?”

  “Yup, you've got a good eye.”

  “I used to have one when I was younger. They look somewhat alike.”

  Pop’s wrapped his arm around the fence post and leaned into it. “Did you ride her often?”

  “Every day.” In short, quick sentences, she repeated to Pops what she’d told Jace about her grandmother's horse business and growing up learning the business. “Elisa Doolittle was a rescue horse.”

  “That was the horse's name?”

  Meredith laughed and nodded. “I called her Lizzy. We took to each other instantly. Grams said I had the touch and was hoping to convince me to take over her business when I grew up.” Meredith stared at the horse and was lost back to a time similar to this one, leaning against the fence and talking to her mother and Grams. Would her life have been similar to this had they lived?

  “So why didn’t you?” Pops asked softly.

  Meredith shifted her focus to the dirt kicked up from the horse as it trotted around the corral. “When they died, I was sixteen. Everything was sold off.”