by Caroline Lee
It was understandable. She’d been living with the man in close quarters for two weeks now. She’d seen firsthand how kind, and gentle, and strong and masculine he could be. She’d witnessed his caring when he was teaching his brother, and his easy strength around the ranch. She was falling in love with those firm muscles and soft gray eyes and quick smiles. She admired the way he’d worked hard to make his ranch a success, and hadn’t let an injury stop him. She even liked his desire for solitude, and found the ranch’s setting as lovely as he did.
She liked everything about him, even his occasional grumpiness and the rarity of his laughter.
And he liked her, she knew. He liked her cooking, and having her around to help in the house, and she suspected he even liked having another person to talk to, besides Nate. She knew Ash was forthright and honest, and wouldn’t have asked her to marry him if he didn’t think that they could be happy living together. But “liking her cooking” and “being happy living together” wasn’t exactly “in love.”
How could she marry him, knowing that she was falling in love with him, and he merely appreciated her presence around his house?
Around this point in the internal argument, Molly had thrown off the covers, turned up the lamp, and started to re-arrange the loft area for her sisters’ arrival. She’d tried to be a quiet as possible, and eventually wore herself out enough to sleep, but she hadn’t come to any decisions.
She must have looked exhausted when she finally came downstairs to start a batch of flapjacks, because Ash asked if she was okay as soon as he stepped out of his bedroom.
His jeans were slung low on his hips, and his flannel shirt was a green that highlighted his eyes. He hadn’t buttoned it up again, and she started towards him to help. He intercepted her, though, and gave her another one of those gentle, spine-tingling kisses that affected her almost as much as passionate ones.
Dear Lord, how could she leave him? How could she go to Salt Lake, never knowing if his touch was as nice as his kisses? She’d never, ever be able to think about another man, knowing the way Ash made her feel. She sighed. She was beginning to suspect she was going to have to marry the man, just to assuage her curiosity.
His soft “Marry me, Molly” made her heart flip, and then melt, and she closed her eyes on a groan. She was acting like some kind of love-sick puppy! She was love-sick!
She made it through breakfast, somehow, listening to their conversation with half an ear, and thinking about what it’d be like to spend every morning like this. Afterwards, Ash asked to borrow her scissors from her sewing kit, promising to return them cleaned and sharpened. When they left for the barn, she busied herself cleaning up the house and admiring their Christmas decorations. She’d see her sisters the day after tomorrow, and wanted their first real Christmas in years to be special.
But no matter how busy she tried to keep herself, she couldn’t stop her mind from mulling over the possibilities ahead. Should she marry Ash and stay here as his wife? It would give her sisters a safe, happy home. Would it really matter if Ash didn’t love her back? He was willing to give her everything she and the girls needed to be happy, and it would be nice to have a place to belong.
She took out her sewing, pleased that she’d cut out all of her major pieces two days ago. Knowing that the girls at least had outer wear to get them back to the ranch, she’d been working on putting together little Christmas presents for everyone. For both girls, she made thick mittens out of the soft gray fabric that reminded her so much of Ash’s eyes, lined with the blue wool. They were simple little things, but she would embroider pretty blue flowers around the wrists—when had she last had time to practice embroidery?—so that they’d match Annie’s coat and Wendy’s shawl. For Ash and Nate, who had thick leather gloves for working with the horses, she was making scarves from the blue wool, with swirls and their names picked out in gray thread. Again, they weren’t much, but it was nice to know that each of them would have something special for Christmas.
Holding one of the soft mittens between her fingers, hunched over the comfortable chair in front of the fire, Molly was struck by how similar the color seemed to Ash’s eyes. He really did have the most remarkable eyes; soft and gentle. She remembered how big and scary he’d seemed to her when they first met—had it only been two weeks ago?—but how the kindness in his eyes had surprised her. She might have wondered if he only seemed gentle because he had limited use of an arm, but she knew, knew with a certainty that surprised her, that he would be just as mellow, just as slow to rile, when the doctor removed his cast.
He’d been nothing but kind to her, and would be kind to her sisters, she knew. He would treat them all well, and make sure they were happy and productive. She took a deep breath, blinking back tears.
She would marry him. It was best for her sisters.
It was best for her.
The decision lifted a load off of her shoulders, and she felt lighter, somehow. Smiling slightly, she tucked her feet up under her skirts, and tried to focus on her embroidery as she wondered what it’d be like to become Mrs. Ash Barker. She was still daydreaming when her lack of sleep the night before caught up to her, and she dropped off.
Molly was curled up on one of the chairs when Ash and Nate returned from their work. These days, the horses that were left required less effort, but they made sure to exercise each one individually. They spent a lot of time discussing plans for Nate’s new breeding program, but not today. Using Molly’s shears and a piece of an old mirror Nate held, Ash had trimmed his beard off close to the skin.
He shaved weekly during the summer, when anything longer than a few days’ growth was hot and itchy, but let it grow into the bush it’d been during the winter, to keep his face warm. But his face would survive, and he was looking forward to Molly’s reaction when she saw it. But he was a little nervous; would she think him handsome? Did it really matter if she found him attractive? He knew from the way she kissed him back that she was at least interested in him physically. But he wanted her to be pleased with him as a choice of a husband.
His big reveal would have to wait, though, because she looked so adorable when she was sleeping. He supposed she was making up her rest from the night before. He’d woken several times to hear her pacing or moving furniture up in the loft, although he could tell that she was trying to be quiet. He badly wanted to go to her, to take her in his arms and demand to help her with whatever was wrong. But he guessed it had to do with his proposal, and figured the best thing would be to just let her argue it out with herself, and hopefully come to the right decision.
He and Nate stomped around a bit, making sure the snow landed on the rug by the front door, and shaking off their coats and hats, but Molly still didn’t wake up. His brother went to investigate the pantry cabinet for any of the leftover cookies—no surprise there—and Ash crossed to Molly.
Leaning over her, he decided to surprise her with a kiss. It worked. He felt her come awake under his lips, and slowly respond. But then her eyes flew open, as if she’d only just realized what she was doing, and she started frantically scooping up her sewing, something blue and gray, and shoving it back into her bag.
Then suddenly, she stopped, and slowly turned to look at him, registering the change. She stood up, and gently touched his cheek. He liked the way it felt—he liked the way she made him feel—but he was watching her face closely. She hadn’t smiled, and those coffee-brown eyes were curious.
He couldn’t stand it any longer. “Do you like it?” He knew he looked different. Hell, for most of the winter, anyone who looked at him would only see his eyes between his thick beard and scraggly hair. But she was finally getting to see his face, and he wondered what she thought.
Her touch was light when it skimmed over his chin, stopping briefly on the deep cleft his beard had hidden. He was leaning towards her, so he had no trouble hearing the slight whisper. “You are even more handsome than I suspected.”
He grinned, and captured her hand with his go
od one, bringing her fingers to his lips. He placed a small kiss on each fingertip, and loved the way she shuddered and closed her eyes.
“Yes.” He didn’t understand, until her eyes flew open again and she pierced him with a direct gaze. “My answer is yes. I’ll marry you, Mr. Barker.”
His smile was spontaneous, and huge, and didn’t come nearly close enough to containing all the joy he felt at that moment. He dropped her hand and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. He lowered his lips to hers, and she met him halfway, and he kissed her like he’d kissed her when he first proposed.
She was clinging to him unsteadily when he finally released her, and he realized that even he was having some trouble maintaining control. He heard chuckling, and was a little chagrined that he’d forgotten Nate’s presence. Somehow, Molly made him forget things, and only think about wanting to kiss her. And now, after what seemed like forever, he had her agreement to marry him; he could spend the rest of his days thinking about kissing her.
No. He grinned again. He could spend the rest of his days actually kissing her.
They turned to Nate. The kid was sitting on the table, his legs swinging, munching on what—judging from the crumbs—was not his first cookie. He was grinning, and said around the food in his mouth, “Looks like you should have trimmed the beard earlier, big brother. Molly was obviously just afraid of that bush.”
Ash just smiled. His beard was a constant butt of Nate’s jokes, mainly because the kid couldn’t grow one. He looked so much like his Indian grandmother that Ash suspected he probably never would, but he never mentioned that to the kid.
Molly actually blushed over Nate’s teasing, but lifted her chin. “Actually, I’d decided before I fell asleep. Sorry about that, by the way.” He kissed her forehead, just because he could, and to tell her he didn’t mind. “I know that Ash will treat us well, and I want my sisters to have a good home.”
“I’ll make sure you’ve all got a good home, Molly. Although Nate’s going to have to help me put on another room before we start having kids.”
Her eyes grew wide, and he wondered if she’d honestly never thought about having babies. But then a small smile crept across her face, and he figured they’d work it out when the time came.
Nate was looking uncomfortable. He stared down at the half-eaten cookie in his hand. “What’s up, brother?”
The kid didn’t look up, but shrugged. “You could put a baby in my room. Or maybe the girls there and the baby in the loft.”
“Oh, you want the addition for yourself?”
He shrugged again, and looked towards the window. In profile, Ash could see so much of the Indian blood that made the kid a second-class citizen. The sharp nose and the strong jaw that hardened with stubbornness, not to mention the hair that brushed against his shoulders.
Ash got a bad feeling. “Nate? What are you thinking?”
His brother licked his lips. “Well, now that you’ve got a wife, and maybe a family, I figure I might go see about hiring on with one of those big outfits east of the city. See if they needed another hand.”
Ash’s heart sunk. Leave it to the kid to get it all backwards. “You figure there’s not a place for you here anymore?” Nate didn’t say anything. “How about your breeding program?”
Nate shrugged. “It’s your ranch, your horses.”
Ash sighed, and dropping his arm from around Molly, ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “It won’t be, after Christmas.”
His younger brother’s gaze swung to him in surprise. “You’re selling the ranch?”
“No, kid. I’m giving half of it to you.”
Nate’s mouth fell open, and Ash almost smiled at the kid’s look of surprise. The younger man blinked, blinked again, and slowly sat up straighter. Ash could tell he didn’t know how to react; maybe he didn’t realize Ash was telling the truth.
“I decided a while ago that it was stupid for you to bust your rear for this ranch, and it all to belong to me. So when we go into town tomorrow, I’m going to stop by the lawyer and deed half of it to you.”
“But… what? I mean, this is your land. It was your land long before you saved my life! Why would you want to give half of it to some brat you’ve had to take care of all these years?”
There was a look of desperation in those hazel eyes, as if daring Ash to make the words true, but the older man shook his head. “You’re my brother, Nate. You have been since that first summer, when you wormed your way into my life and refused to let me be. You’ve taken care of me as much as I have you.” Nate looked down again, but Ash pushed through the awkward explanation. “I figured we could keep building this place together, and maybe, if you wanted, we could build you another house someday, for your family…”
His kid brother looked up, and Ash pretended he didn’t see the tears in those hazel eyes. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
Molly’s voice was no-nonsense, and so unexpected that both brothers jumped slightly. “Say ‘thank you’ and then tell him that you love him.”
Nate flushed. “Yeah, of course, thank you. I mean, that’s incredible, I never considered that you would—”
“Now stop stammering, get off my table, and come give me a hug to welcome me to the family.”
Ash had to grin when he turned to his wife-to-be. “Your table? You’re getting bossy already, huh?”
Her chin went up, despite the blush, and reminded him of how much he appreciated her candor and practicality. “You’re the one who asked me, Ash Barker. If I’m to be your wife, then I’ll have claim to at least half this house,” she nodded towards Nate, “More if Nate will admit that he likes my cooking enough to let me stay.” She pretended to glare at the boy, who quickly slid off the table and popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth, a grin—more strained than normal—spreading across his face.
“You’ll do, Molly. You’ll do.”
She beckoned to him, and he slowly crossed the room towards them, his hands in his pockets, looking unsure. When he reached them, Molly looked significantly at Ash, and he burst into laughter at the thought of this woman already trying to boss him around. Life was sure going to be enjoyable with her as his wife.
Still laughing, he enveloped his brother in a hug, and relished the feeling of Molly’s arms around both of them.
He had given his brother a place in the world, and Molly had said she’d marry him. Saying that he was happy didn’t begin to cover it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She couldn’t believe it was actually happening. She was on her way to Cheyenne, to pick up her sisters, so they could all start their new life together. And while there, she would marry Ash, and become a wife. She was terrified and excited and a little sick to her stomach about the whole thing. She knew he expected her to share his bed, and she was surprised to find that she was eager to experience that. She’d been a good girl for years, even in a time and place when many working-class women had ‘experimented’ before marriage… not because she was saving herself for any particular reason, but because she hadn’t had the time or the inclination. No man had ever, ever aroused even half the interest Ash did in her. No man had ever aroused her at all, truthfully. But now that she’d experienced his kisses, he could make her weak-kneed and giddy just with a heated look. And soon she’d share his marriage bed.
She sighed happily and snuggled down a little deeper in the buffalo-skin robe. It was late in the afternoon, and the air was already getting colder. Ash and Nate had put in many hours already that day, ensuring that the horses and other animals would survive for a day without their owners. Ash had told her that they rarely both left the ranch at the same time—not counting the last time, when he’d had to chase Nate into Cheyenne—but he wanted his brother beside him when they got married.
So it was well after noon when they ate the big meal Molly had prepared, and bundled all of the bags and blankets on to the sleigh—Molly wanted to make sure that the girls would be warm enough on their way to th
eir new home—and they got on their way.
This trip was different from the one she’d taken from Cheyenne; Nate was just as talkative, and Ash was just as reticent, but this time, he kept his arm around her. His left arm had healed enough that he could hold the reins, as long as he didn’t need to pull too hard, so he made sure she sat up against his right side. She was deliciously warm and cozy, snuggled under the same buffalo hide as him, her cheek pillowed against him.
She spent the hours watching what scenery there was. Whenever they had to cross a streambed—covered in snow, of course—there were scrub bushes or trees, some of which she even recognized. The mountains were behind them, and the land was as flat as her favorite iron pan. It seemed like the snow stretched out in every direction, but Ash seemed confident in the route they were taking.
She asked him why he’d chosen to settle someplace so desolate.
“You think it’s desolate? Really?”
She reconsidered. “No, not really, I guess. It’s actually quite lovely, in a lonely sort of way. There’s beauty in it.”
He nodded, and turned back to the horse’s rump. “I’m glad you can see it. I chose it because it was lonely. It suited me.”
“Why?”
He was quiet for a time, but she could see that he was thinking. “From my porch, I can see for miles, and it’s all mine. No one to tell me what I can or can’t do. It’s lonely, but it’s free, and I like that. Freedom is important to a man.”
“I guess I can see that. I’ve lived in a city my whole life, but I can see the attraction to living someplace where the only demands made of you are for your own survival. No one else’s.”
“Exactly.” He squeezed her a little tighter. “I grew up in an orphanage where I couldn’t even go outside without someone’s permission. Usually it was only for an hour or two a day. I loved the sun and the heat and the cold and the rain. So when I eventually found work on the range, I enjoyed the weather and the freedom I didn’t have as a kid. That’s what Cheyenne, and the ranch mean to me. Freedom.”