She stood abruptly. "I don't give a fig what anyone's going to say about it. I don't need this town's approval to do what I believe is right."
"You say that now, but you don't know what it's like. You don't know jack squat about how it is to have people look at you like you're dirt. You've never spent Sundays or holidays alone or seen women snatch their skirts aside so's not to touch you." He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Trust me, you'd think differently after that happened a few times."
Primly, she moved back to the chair and sat. "Anyone who would treat me like that after knowing me all these years wouldn't be worth having as a friend."
Fine talk, but she hadn't lived it.
Tye studied her perched on the chair. Marriage. To this woman. He couldn't keep his curious gaze from sliding to her rounded breasts beneath her starched dress, and images of sleeping with her had him moving to stand behind her.
"Ma'am, you're talking of marriage here. I just can't believe you've thought this through."
"I'm not an innocent young girl," she countered. "I know what marriage entails."
A delicious surge of heat teased his body. He tried to let his brain do the reasoning. "I want children someday," he said honestly. She might as well know his concerns. He wouldn't saddle himself with a woman who could give him land, only to find she wasn't willing to see to his other wishes.
To his surprise, she didn't blink an eye. "So do I. There's no reason I can't give you children."
What more could he want? Meg was the most beautiful woman in the whole damned county. She was offering to turn her land over to him, marry him and give him children.
He didn't have to wonder, "Why me?" The privilege had fallen to the only able-bodied, unmarried man in the area. Not exactly flattering.
But promising.
Very promising. And as long as they were revealing their expectations, he had more. "There's something else I want," he said.
She turned her head, but not enough to see him. "What is it?"
Tye'd come back with a plan to prove his worth to this community. The war had shown him that when it came to wearing a uniform, picking up a gun and fighting, he was as good as any man. No one he'd fought beside had cared whether or not he bore his father's name. He'd fought prejudice and ridicule in this town since he was old enough to raise his fists, and these people would only see him differently once he proved himself an equal. "I want to start a packing plant."
"A—packing plant? Like in the East?"
"Yes." He abandoned his inhibition and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, where he could look directly at her. "I listened to cattlemen the last few years. I heard their stories of losing hundreds of head while driving them or shipping them by rail, about how the cattle lost weight and brought less money. If we could slaughter them here, we'd save the trip and the hardships. We'd ship the dressed meat right out. Think how much more meat will fit in the railcars already dressed."
"What kind of investment are you talking about?"
She was listening!
"A big one. I've been saving because I needed to buy land. But if I already have the land, all I have to do is build pens, a slaughtering house, and then hire workers."
"There are no workers."
"There will be if there are jobs for them."
Thoughtfully, she studied him. Her gaze wavered reflectively to a spot over his shoulder, then back to his face. "But you'd still help me with the ranch? I need your word on that. And you have to promise me you'll never sell Joe's ranch."
"If I agree to marry you, I'll do whatever I can to make the ranch a success. But I would need the same promise from you."
"About the packing plant?" she asked.
He nodded. "It would benefit you. You wouldn't have to ship cattle."
"All right. If you'll marry me, I'll help you get your packing plant started. And—you won't ever sell?"
"I won't ever sell. Unless you ask me to." Something here was too good to be true. But then, he was her only choice. Belittling as that might be, her proposal was an end to his quest for land. He could have his dream.
"All right," he said. "These are the terms—I help you keep the ranch and get it going. You help me get the plant started. This will be a marriage in all respects."
She blushed noticeably, but she nodded.
"Then I agree to marry you."
She paused only momentarily before getting to her feet. "Very well, then. We'll arrange it as soon as possible. Next week sometime. Will that be convenient?"
"I'm not goin' anywhere."
"Perhaps Saturday?"
"Whatever you'd like."
"I'll let you know."
He walked her out the door, down the flight of stairs, and assisted her onto the wagon. This time when he extended his hand, she looked at it, and then up at him, before she placed her gloved one in it. It would have been much easier if he'd simply lifted her, but she obviously got up and down unassisted the rest of the time, and he wasn't comfortable with touching her in a more familiar manner.
Yet.
She raised herself up to the seat and straightened her skirts. She met his eyes and he could have sworn she was thinking the same thing. "We'll be in touch, then," she said.
He nodded.
She unwound the reins from the brake handle and flicked them over the horses' backs.
Tye watched her go and told himself that the anticipation already warming his blood was due to the stroke of luck in having a site for his innovative business dropped into his lap.
But the word wife echoed teasingly in his head. A thought entered his awareness too late. Perhaps he should have mentioned he'd soon be getting a child to raise. Lottie couldn't last much longer, and he'd promised her that he would come for Eve.
Maybe Meg wouldn't even mind; after all, she wanted children.
There would be time to tell her later.
* * *
Chapter Four
« ^ »
Tye Hatcher wanted children.
Meg turned the lamp wick down low, removed her clothing and pulled a snowy white linen night shift over her head and buttoned it up to her throat.
Of course he wanted children. Now that he'd brought it up, she might as well get used to the fact that this was going to be a marriage in all respects. She would follow through on her part of the arrangement. It wasn't as if she hadn't given a lot of consideration to bringing him here.
She fell to her knees beside the hide-upholstered trunk at the foot of the bed and raised the lid. Reverently, she ran her hands over Joe's shirts, fingered a hairbrush with a few fair strands still caught in the bristles, and took out a packet of letters held together by a faded ribbon.
Joe had wanted children, too.
These letters were filled with dreams for their future, plans for the ranch, words of caring and commitment. She didn't want to read them just now. She knew exactly how long it took to read them all, where Joe'd been when he'd written each one, and the post from which each envelope had been mailed.
She knew, too, the bittersweet feelings of melancholy and heartache that swamped her when she allowed herself to open and read them. Those moments were best saved for nights when she could handle the feelings of abandonment and loss.
This wasn't one of them.
Meg replaced the stack of letters carefully, closed the trunk and, after blowing out the lantern, climbed into bed.
She and Joe had wanted a family.
Each month her body prepared for a baby, and each month came and went without hope for a seed being planted. She was still young though; her body was still firm and strong.
Tye Hatcher was the means to help her fulfill all of her and Joe's dreams. The ranch. The stock. The children to inherit the land.
That's how Joe would want it.
She snuggled deep into the coverlet and rubbed her feet against each other for warmth. She would tell Mother Telford tomorrow. Harley and Niles would have to spare her their condescending offers and
their patronizing attitudes. She wasn't going to be put off her ranch now or ever.
Tye Hatcher would help her see to that.
A bolt of unease rocked her midsection and shot a shiver up her spine. She'd known Tye Hatcher since they were children. He was right about his treatment by the community. She'd told him she didn't care what the citizens of Aspen Grove thought of her. She wanted with all her heart for that to be true. She would make it true.
Tye couldn't help who his parents had been. It was unfair of people to treat him cruelly because of things that were beyond his control.
She could help them see that.
Joe and Tye had never been friends exactly, but Joe had never treated Tye badly, either. This was what Joe would have wanted her to do. Assuring herself of that, she hugged a feather pillow to her breast.
Saturday.
In six days she would marry Tye Hatcher and bring him to the ranch.
Five more nights alone in this bed. And then she'd be Tye's wife.
It hadn't gone well. Not well at all. But then Meg hadn't expected her announcement to be met with congratulations and hugs of encouragement. Edwina Telford had turned as red as a pickled beet and fairly exploded with indignation. "You can't be serious!" she'd screeched, bringing Wilsie on the run.
"I am serious, Mother Telford," Meg had said before Edwina could gather up enough steam to roll over her. "And nothing you can say or do will dissuade me. I've made up my mind that I'm going to keep the ranch, and this is how I aim to do it."
Wilsie brought smelling salts and waved the bottle under her mother's nose. "My poor Joe will turn over in his grave, God rest his soul," the woman moaned, wringing her lace handkerchief. "His wife taking up with the likes of that—that good-for-nothing illegitimate rakehell! O-oh! I'll never be able to hold my head up in this town again."
"Joe would want me to do whatever it took to hang on to our ranch," Meg disagreed, refusing to be swayed by her mother-in-law's histrionics. "It's not you who's marrying Tye Hatcher—"
"Don't speak that name to me!"
"It's me, and you don't have to approve of what I'm doing. I'm doing it no matter what anyone thinks. There's no law against it. I'm an adult and a free woman, and I'll marry whomever I please. Harley and Miles will have to forsake their plans to disburse my land. It's going to stay mine."
"Yours! It's going to fall into the hands of that man, and who knows what he'll do with it or what will become of you after he's drunk and gambled away your last dollar!"
"He promised me he would never sell."
"Promised? What good is the promise of a heathen like that? Meg Telford, you've lost your mind! He'll make you miserable. He'll take you down with him! Why, he spends his money and his time in the saloons. He drinks and consorts with floozies! I've a notion to send you to the doctor in…"
And so it had gone, with Edwina ranting about Meg dishonoring Joe's memory, and poor Wilsie trembling and casting Meg fearful sidelong glances. Meg had driven the team home, fully expecting Harley to be close on her heels. He hadn't arrived until after the accounting office where he worked had closed for the day.
And then she'd gone over the same arguments with him. Mother Telford had a room all ready for her. Meg wouldn't have to bother herself with the running of a ranch. Edwina needed the company. Tye Hatcher was a sorry excuse for a man. He would ruin her good name and hurt her.
But Meg had stood her ground, firm in her belief that she was doing the right thing—the only thing—to keep Joe's ranch. Harley had ridden off, anger and disapproval leaving a dusty trail behind him.
It was too much to expect them to understand this soon, she could see that, but they would come around. They had to. Eventually they'd see that she'd made a wise choice in taking Tye Hatcher on to save her land. Tye couldn't possibly be as bad as they'd made him out to be. Why, it would take three men to do all the things he'd reportedly done and would soon repeat.
Meg had to concentrate on taking care of business. Preparing for this wedding certainly wasn't like anticipating the first. With no time to have invitations printed, she wrote several notes to her friends and family and posted them, but no one showed up to help her, and the only responses she received were regrets.
Their treatment hurt, but she refused to let it deter her. As soon as they saw that what she'd done was for the best, they would change their minds.
Saturday morning, she gave the house a last-minute cleaning before bathing and dressing, then Gus and Purdy accompanied her into Aspen Grove.
Only a pitiful handful of guests sat in the pews when she made her way to the front of the church. Glancing at them, she recalled her first wedding, the freshly polished pews packed with friends and family in their best clothing, the scent of chrysanthemums drifting on the summer air. That had been the happiest day of her life.
Meg recognized Gwynn immediately and breathed a sigh of relief that at least one person from her family had chosen to bless this union.
A dark-haired woman whom she'd seen in town and knew only as Rosa sat several rows behind Gwynn.
Jed Wheeler sat alone at the opposite end of the hard, polished pew Rosa occupied. He slipped a finger into his shirt collar and adjusted it.
Meg smiled at Aldo and Hunt Eaton's shy, grinning faces, wondering if they'd asked their parents' permission or if they'd simply left her cattle long enough to attend.
Reverend Baker smiled warmly and gestured for Meg to take her place beside Tye.
Finally, she allowed herself to look at him, the man she was about to marry. His deep blue eyes gave away nothing of what he was feeling. He held his solid jaw stiff and met her gaze squarely.
"Tye?" she questioned uncertainly.
Something behind his eyes flickered. Surprise? Doubt?
She extended her gloved hand.
His unreadable gaze drifted across her hair, fell to her crocheted collar and then to her gloved hand. Without pause, he accepted it with both of his and held it firmly between his large palms. Heat seeped through the fabric of her gloves.
"Are we ready, then?" Reverend Baker asked softly.
"We're ready," Tye replied.
The reverend nodded, and to Meg's surprise, Fiona Hill, whom she hadn't noticed sitting behind the organ before, unskillfully launched into a wedding song. Meg gave Tye a smile, pleased that he had thought to add music to the hasty ceremony.
"Dearly beloved," Reverend Baker began, once the last harsh notes reverberated into the morning air.
Meg listened to the same words he'd recited over her and Joe that sunny morning so long ago. She didn't place the same naive hope in the vows as she once had. Her first marriage had held promise and had been a union of love.
Not that she didn't take this one seriously, for she did. She meant to adhere to her pledge. But this was a business arrangement, an agreement, and she in no way felt the same love and anticipation she had when she'd married Joe.
Tye understood that.
"And repeat after me, 'With this ring I thee wed.'"
Tye released her left hand, and Reverend Baker waited expectantly. Meg stared in numb recognition at the silver band Tye held between his long thumb and forefinger.
"Oh."
She hadn't been expecting a ring. She had a ring. Awkwardly, she tugged off her glove and glanced at the gold band she still wore. Joe's ring.
But of course, she wouldn't be able to wear the ring Joe had given her. Her face warmed in embarrassment. Without stopping to think about what she was doing, she twisted the band from her finger, dropped the ring into her pocket and extended her hand.
"With this ring I thee wed." Tye's voice sounded oddly distant as he repeated the words. He took her hand and slid the warm silver band into place, his fingers strong and hard. She stared down, finding the silver piece strangely out of place on her finger.
A new pain, deep and dull and laced with bitter resignation, expanded in her chest. She blinked back the humiliating prickle of tears and unthinkingly gripped Ty
e's hand hard. His other came to rest over the back of hers, its gentleness and warmth a much needed reassurance.
"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Without a second's hesitation, as if he feared she might balk or bolt or burst into tears, Tye leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then quickly straightened.
With a characteristic lack of finesse, Fiona banged out the wedding march, and Meg allowed Reverend Baker and Tye to escort her to the back of the tiny building. One by one, the few guests offered congratulations and stepped out into the sunshine.
Gwynn gripped Meg's fingers. "I hope this is right, Meg," she said shakily. "I do wish you the best."
"Thank you for coming," Meg managed to say around the knot of distress in her throat. "I'm going to be just fine. Don't worry about me."
"Well, you come to me if you need anything." She glanced around. "Harley doesn't know I came. So I'd best hurry home before he figures out where I went." She pressed her cheek against her sister-in-law's. "I'll see you in church tomorrow." She rushed down the wooden stairs.
Her concern touched Meg.
"This is Rosa Casals," Tye said from beside her.
"Of course," Meg said, turning to greet the dark-eyed woman. "Thank you for coming."
"I just wanted to congratulate you both. Here's a little something from me and Lottie. It's not much." She pressed a small, paper-wrapped package into Meg's hands.
"Why, thank you!" Meg said with surprise. A wedding gift!
"Well, goodbye and good luck," Rosa said. "Hatch, I'll see you before I leave town." Hastily, she left the church.
Meg looked at the package in her hands. None of her Telford family except Gwynn had come to this ceremony. None of the other church members. If her hired hands and Tye's two friends hadn't come, no one would have witnessed their marriage.
Tye stepped into the small cloakroom with Reverend Baker, and Meg realized he was paying him for the ceremony. "Come sign the certificate, Meg," the reverend called easily.
JOE'S WIFE Page 4