by Jodi Thomas
“No.” Michael shook his head. “This is our wedding breakfast. You should stay at my side.” He moved to the head of the table and pulled a chair from the wall.
She gave him a puzzled look, then smiled as if proud he was willing to play his part.
As they ate, Cozette introduced him to a few of the hands and they made more introductions. By the time breakfast was over, he could call most of the men by name and, surprisingly, they treated him with respect.
Cozette explained that he’d ridden for four days to get to her and made a joke about how he’d look far better when he got cleaned up.
Michael didn’t miss how the men seemed to ignore Raymond Camanez when he stood. He was no longer their boss and every man on the ranch knew it.
The trouble was, Michael wasn’t sure he would be up for the job. He could ride and shoot fairly well, but he knew nothing about running a ranch.
He glanced at Cozette and saw a brush of fear shadow her eyes as well. If they didn’t pull this off, he didn’t want to think about what might happen.
Her hand was icy when he closed his fingers around hers and stood, pulling her up with him. “If you will excuse us, gentlemen, I’d like to take a few minutes to get reacquainted with my wife.”
They all laughed and mumbled low comments, but Michael didn’t care. “Let’s make this believable,” he said only for her to hear a moment before he swept her up.
“Good day, gentlemen!” He laughed as they shouted while he started toward the stairs.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder.
Lowering a kiss on her cheek, he whispered, “Which way?”
“Up,” she answered, her lips touching his. “All the way to the back of the hallway.”
A cheer went up from the men behind them and Michael paused on the steps long enough to finish the kiss she’d started. The rest of this job he’d signed on for might be frightening, but her lips tasted like heaven.
When he finally let her breathe, her cheeks were rose colored with embarrassment, but she smiled up at him. Without a word he carried her up and set her gently on her feet once they were out of sight of those below.
She moved to the waiting maid and gave instructions in a low tone. The maid nodded and hurried away without looking up at Michael.
When they were alone, Cozette opened the last door on the left of the hallway. “My uncle took the first room when he came here after my father had moved downstairs. It’s the biggest bedroom. He didn’t know that my parents’ rooms were always the last rooms.”
She walked into a warm room done in colors of the earth and bathed in sunshine. Michael didn’t want to act the fool, but he had a hard time keeping his mouth from dropping. He’d never seen such a room. Books lined two walls, and the view beyond the windowpanes seemed endless.
He glanced back at his uncles thundering up the stairs, Uncle Abe still eating. Before he could say anything, Cozette stepped in front of him and pointed. “Gentlemen, you’ll find your rooms being readied in the guesthouses off the garden.”
“We get a room?” Abe mumbled. “We’d be fine in the barn.”
“No,” she insisted. “You’re family now. I’ve asked for baths and fresh clothes to be sent to your rooms.”
“But . . .”
Michael didn’t know if they were thinking of the rule to never leave her, or dreading the bath, but he said, “I’ll watch over my wife, you three do as she says. We all could use a few hours of sleep.”
They weren’t about to argue with the woman who saved their lives. They all nodded and hurried back down the stairs.
Michael turned to her. “When I’m not close, I want one of them with you at all times. If for any reason I have to be gone, one will be sleeping in this hallway outside your door.”
She walked back into what had been her father’s room. “That’s not necessary.”
“I saw the way your uncle looked at us. I insist.”
“Already being bossy. I don’t like rules.”
Michael hesitated, feeling like he might step a foot too far in any direction and be in quicksand. “I’ll go along with however you want to play this except where your safety is concerned. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough.” She moved to the windows, her black hair shining in the sunlight.
For the first time he thought he saw her relax a bit. She trusted him. It made no sense, but somehow he had the feeling that the only person for miles she believed in was him, the outlaw who tried to frighten her last night.
“This is not your room,” he guessed, for there was nothing feminine about the space.
“No,” she answered, opening a panel he thought might open into the hall. Only it led to a bathing room larger than most hotel rooms he’d seen. She crossed the tile and opened another door. “This is my room.” The end of the hallway had been closed in to connect the rooms.
Michael smiled. It looked exactly like what he would imagine her room would look like. She didn’t have the tall windows or the walls of books, but she had a fireplace and comfortable chairs in an alcove, where she could spend quiet mornings. Her colors were in the earthtones of spring.
“I keep both my doors locked whenever I’m in my room and I’ll tap on the bathroom door before entering in case you’re bathing.”
“Fair enough.” He tried to act like he understood. The room she’d called the “bathing room” was almost the size of his uncles’ entire house.
Three maids banged their way into the bathing room, causing Michael to take one step into her quarters. “What’s going on?”
“They’re getting your bath ready. I asked them to lay out extra shaving equipment. By the time you’ve finished, we’ll have a few trouser lengths let out and jackets aired. There should be something waiting on your bed that will fit you.”
“I have my own clothes.” He looked down. His trousers and shirt might have been bought off the shelf at the mercantile, but they were the best he’d ever owned and not more than a week dirty.
“You’re my husband. By marrying me you now own one of the biggest ranches in Texas. I can help run the ranch, but you’ll need to look the part.”
“We need to talk.” He began unbuttoning his shirt. “As soon as I’ve followed your orders and had my bath, I need to know more about this ranch if I’m going to be of any use.”
She smiled, her hands on her hips, her eyes watching his hands as they worked the buttons. “I’ll be waiting in my room with a hot cup of tea and maps of the ranch when you’re ready.” She blushed when she noticed he was watching her watch him.
She closed her door and he wasn’t surprised to hear the lock click. He kicked the other door closed with his boot and stripped off his clothes. She might think he understood her, but he felt like they were barely speaking the same language.
An hour later, he looked in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize himself. His hair was clean and combed back, his clothes probably cost more than he’d ever made in his life all put together, and his boots, though too tight, were fine leather with tooling along the sides. It seemed unbelievable that people kept such clothes around for guests who might need them.
He tapped on her door. After a moment, he heard the lock give and she stood before him in a white blouse and midnight blue riding skirt. If possible, with her hair down and her boots disappearing into her skirt, she looked even more beautiful.
“Come in, sir.” She grinned. “You sure do clean up nice. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were born to wear those clothes.”
He had no idea what to say. He couldn’t think of a compliment for her that wouldn’t make him sound like a fool.
“How does everything fit?” she asked as she moved to the seating area.
“The boots are too small, but someone came in the bathing room and stole my clothes and boots while I was dressing.”
“The maids. They’ll bring them back in a few hours, all cleaned and polished. I’ll order you n
ew boots by mail tomorrow.”
“So, dressing me is part of the bargain.” He didn’t like the idea, but he did like the clothes.
She shrugged. “I guess so. It seems only fair. After all, I’m the one asking you to play a role.”
He almost said, “Any chance undressing you is part of my bargain?” but he feared any boldness might frighten her. Showing affection downstairs was one thing; being bold here in the silence of her room would be quite another.
She took her seat on one side of a small table set with tea and smiled up at him as if they were old friends.
He gambled and brushed the top of her head with his hand.
As before, she stiffened at his touch, but made no comment. He had a feeling they were both thinking of the bargain they’d made. He’d play the part and she’d let him touch her from time to time.
He took his seat, swearing to himself that before he left her she’d at least not jump when he touched her.
She poured him tea, which he didn’t drink as she filled him in on the workings of the ranch. She showed him maps and explained her family history.
He was quiet and polite until she pulled out the monthly expense records. The figures, so carefully kept, interested him. “Mind if I study these?” he finally asked. “If I can follow the income and output, I’ll understand the runnings of the ranch better.”
“I would say you could talk to our bookkeeper. I don’t know his first name. Everyone always calls him Mr. Fiddler.” She frowned. “I haven’t seen him since I came back. In fact, I haven’t even thought to ask about him. He’s probably around somewhere.”
Michael raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as she continued.
“The past three years’ records are on my father’s desk downstairs. I saw my uncle looking at them the morning I found out my father’s terms for the will. While you’re here take as active a part in the running of the ranch as you like.” She hesitated a long moment and added, “But never forget our bargain. As soon as the ranch is safely mine, you and your uncles will leave and for your trouble I promise your wagon will be packed.”
“I’ll hold to my bargain, Cozette, and I’d like to look over the accounts,” he said, almost angry that she felt the need to remind him of their pact. He didn’t add that since she’d probably be by her father’s side the records would give him a reason to stay close.
She opened her mouth as if to question, then reconsidered and nodded in compromise. Last night he’d watched her change from a frightened child to a woman taking control of her life. She’d never be easy to manipulate again and he knew he’d never even try.
He smiled as she fiddled with her tea. He knew he was the only one she had to trust. An outlaw who had threatened to kill her was all that stood beside her now. Michael had seen the look in her uncle’s eyes. He wanted the ranch and might just be willing to do anything, including killing them both to get it.
Michael planned to stay by her side until he knew she was safe. He would do so even without the promise of a wagonload of goods.
Chapter 4
The newlyweds came down for lunch late. Cozette didn’t miss all the smiles and winks at Michael. He remained the gentleman, never letting on that he knew she’d thrown up her breakfast. He hadn’t even raised his head from the book he’d been reading when she forgot to close his connecting door. When she’d visited her father by way of the back stairs, he’d followed and quietly remained at the desk by the window until she’d told him it was time for lunch.
He’d covered his hand over hers a few times during the meal, and when he knew someone was watching, he’d made an effort to brush her cheek with a kiss or lightly circle his arm over her shoulders. Because of her father’s illness and the newlyweds’ need to be alone, the few guests who’d come quickly made excuses to leave. By afternoon, all the ranch hands had returned to work and the house was quiet.
When she’d excused herself to sit with her father, Michael followed without a word. He’d walked her all the way to the chair by her father’s bed, then kissed her hand and said he’d be at the desk across the room.
She’d expected to find her uncle in her father’s room and was relieved to see only the nurse.
Shadows were long when Michael excused himself and left the room. Cozette stood and stretched, then walked around the big desk, noticing that Michael had been studying the records all afternoon. She stopped at the tall windows and stared out at her ranch, loving it so much her heart ached to realize how close she came to losing it.
She brushed her fingers over the slight bulge just above her knee where she’d strapped a gun to her leg. A few months ago she believed everyone to be good and fair. She thought her uncle loved her and only wanted her to be happy when he’d sent a letter introducing the son of a friend.
Fredrick Bates had shown up at her school with flowers and his aunt as chaperone. The nuns had let her go riding with him and to dinner in town as long as the aunt went along. After all, he had the proper family introduction and Cozette was a year older than most girls who left the school. They’d let her stay on another year only because her father had insisted.
Cozette thought she was in love with Fredrick by the fourth outing. He spoke French to her and swore she had angel eyes. When his aunt retired early on the fifth evening, she’d been excited to spend the time alone with a man who pampered her so.
Fredrick had teased her and told her he planned to seduce her as they entered his private quarters. She’d been fool enough to laugh and play along when he kissed her and flirted with her. When the hour grew late, she’d told him she had to go, but he changed. Seduction turned forceful and demanding.
For a moment she thought he was still teasing, and when talk turned to action, she’d been too shocked, too young, too naive to even fight.
It had all been over in a few minutes, and when he pulled away, he’d seemed furious at her. The man who’d spoken his love for her in French stood, straightened his clothes, and said he’d done what he’d been paid to do. He’d left her there, her dress torn, her heart broken as if she were no more than the scraps after a meal.
She’d cried for a while, then walked back to the school and pretended nothing had happened. If she’d said a word she would have been expelled. Her father would have disowned her. Proper young ladies didn’t get themselves into compromising positions.
So, she’d held her tongue and come home as soon as she could find a reason to slip away.
Once on the ranch, she’d realized the truth. The letter introducing Fredrick was in Uncle Raymond’s handwriting. He had paid a man to dishonor her.
When she said nothing, he must have thought the plan hadn’t worked. Then, he’d talked her father into changing his will. He probably figured she’d be too afraid to even talk to another man after her encounter with Fredrick. Uncle Raymond must have thought he’d planned it all out where he would win the ranch without a fight. Half the family wealth had never been enough—he wanted it all.
Her grandfather had fought the Apache for this land, her father had fought outlaws and raiders more than once, and now she knew she’d have to fight her uncle. No one was ever going to stand in her way. The land was hers, paid for with blood and sweat. She would have made a bargain with the devil himself to keep it.
Looking at the chair where Michael had been sitting, she wondered if that hadn’t been exactly what she’d done. After all, he was an outlaw. His only three relatives didn’t look like they’d completely evolved from animals. Moses snorted like a bull and Joseph smacked when he ate. She couldn’t even see Abe clearly for all the dirty hair hanging in his face.
But Michael Hughes looked like he was born to play the role of a rancher. All dressed up, he looked like a perfect gentleman, but he seemed to be holding his cards close to the vest and waiting for her to give him just enough power to take over or run. When the time came, how hard would it be for him to walk away from a ranch this size with only a wagonload of trinkets? By law all her property now b
elonged to him. Would he give it back when the time came?
She stood and moved to the gun chest. Lifting the false bottom to the shelf, she retrieved two more small Colts. One for beneath her pillow, the other to hide in this room. She’d not be caught unprepared again. The nuns might not have taught her to fight, but they had taught her to reason. She wanted to believe in Michael, but she’d learned the hard way to be prepared.
From the window, she watched her new husband cross through the garden. He didn’t turn to the cabins where his relatives stayed but opened a side gate. Taking long strides he walked into the untamed pasture beyond the trimmed and groomed walls of the compound.
He was almost to the trees running along a creek behind the house when he stopped. She watched as he leaned his head back and stared up at the cloudy sky like a man trying to find his bearings.
For the first time, she wondered if he felt as trapped by their bargain as she did. If he hadn’t agreed to her crazy scheme he might have been killed last night. Yet, even knowing all she had to do was yell and he’d be trapped, he’d bargained for his uncles’ lives. He’d also handled her setting all the rules with more class than she might have in his place. She’d made it plain that he’d play the part of master over all he saw, but she’d make the final decisions on anything pertaining to the ranch. She’d hold all the power. As her father slipped farther and farther from the world, she’d take her place.
One of the ranch hands fell into step with Michael as he walked back to the house. She saw them talking and wished she could hear what they were saying. The ranch hand tipped his hat in salute when he veered off at the garden gate.
Cozette put one of the guns in the pillows by the alcove and noticed he hadn’t touched his tea again. Next time they talked, she’d have coffee for him even though he hadn’t complained or asked. The least she could do was make him comfortable in his cage.
Chapter 5
Michael walked slowly back onto the house grounds. He was supposed to join her at dinner, but he had no idea when dinner would be. At the prison there were only two meals. One served at dawn, the other an hour before dark. That way men could use daylight to work and everyone would be shackled in by dark and no extra light was needed.