by Jodi Thomas
In all her life she’d never been paid such respect. She’d always been poorer than trash, with most folks not even noticing she was around.
Several of the others mumbled introductions, but Kora knew she couldn’t remember them all. First, they all looked alike in their leather and hats, and second, their voices were blurred with a southern drawl.
‘‘We didn’t even know the boss got married,’’ one said louder than the others. ‘‘But we’re mighty proud he has. It’s plain to see he’s a lucky man.’’
Smiling, Kora looked down at Winter. With the step’s height, she was just above eye level with him. He stared up at her with one raised eyebrow and a question in his gaze. She wasn’t sure, but she guessed he was seeing her, really seeing her, for the first time. Judging from his expression, he liked what he saw.
‘‘I’ve got to go,’’ he said slowly, as if testing her reaction and very much aware that the men were listening. ‘‘I won’t be back till after dawn.’’
Kora leaned and touched her lips to his cheek with no more emotion than he’d kissed her earlier at their wedding. ‘‘I’ll have breakfast ready,’’ she answered as she looked at the men, ‘‘for everyone.’’
Winter touched his first two fingers to the brim of his hat and backed away. He had to give the lady credit, she must have read a book somewhere on how to be a wife. The kiss had been almost believable. The invitation to breakfast sounded just like what Miss Allie would have said in her day.
He’d about decided he’d made a good bargain when he and Cheyenne entered the barn to saddle fresh horses.
A moment later he reconsidered as they pulled his buckskin-clad sister-in-law out of the hay and out of a young man’s heated embrace. She cursed worse than he’d ever heard a man swear, and the boy looked scared as he fought to slow his breathing to normal and straighten his clothes to presentable. But neither of the young folks, much to Winter’s disappointment, looked as if they had given even a passing thought to marriage.
FOUR
WINTER RODE ALONG THE SOUTH BORDER OF HIS land with Cheyenne half a length behind him. The two men rarely talked, not seeming to have the need. Cheyenne was a few years older and had shown up at the ranch soon after Winter arrived. The captain used to say Cheyenne was the best man with a horse or a gun who’d ever ridden into Texas, but a smile never broke the hard line of his mouth.
To be honest, Winter could never remember Cheyenne being overly friendly to anyone. He didn’t eat with the others in the bunkhouse and had never invited Winter or
anyone else to share his campfire while they were on the ranch. Even though Winter had told Cheyenne his mother was of the Cheyenne people, it didn’t seem to matter. Most of the hands had no idea where Cheyenne slept or if he had another name other than that of his people. They only knew he could usually be found a few feet behind Winter, standing at attention as though silently waiting for trouble.
Sometime over the years, Winter had learned to trust the man as he did no other. The lessons came in a hundred small ways. Winter trusted Cheyenne with his back… with his life. Now Winter could feel two facts seeping clear through to his bones. Trouble was coming and, when it did, Cheyenne would be the one he could depend on.
Winter pulled his hat low against the icy wind. It was good to have the man on guard with him tonight, for he was having trouble concentrating on his turn at watch. The face of the woman he’d married kept slipping into his mind.
She wasn’t ordinary as he’d first thought. When he’d taken the time to look at her, she’d been pretty. Not the kind of beauty like a saloon girl all made up, but a kind of quiet pretty that was easy on a man’s eyes. She had a grace about her that made him want to shelter her. Even now, after hours in the cold, he could still feel the weight of her touch on his shoulder. For the first time in all the years he’d ridden the land, he was in a hurry to get back to the ranch house. Kora would be waiting for him. He wanted to know more about this woman who shared his name.
Pulling his collar up against the first few drops of rain, Win swore beneath his breath. Who did he think he was fooling? She wouldn’t be waiting for him. She’d married him for a house to live in and the promise of tickets to California. He’d better get any thought of the possibility of more out of his mind. She seemed to be playing her part, acting as though they were true husband and wife, but that was all he could expect. If he let himself hope that they’d become lovers, mates, or even friends, he was only setting himself up for a fall. Men like him didn’t have time for foolish things like love.
Besides, something in the way Jamie only glanced around gave him the impression she thought they wouldn’t be staying long. For all he knew they’d be packed and on the road by the time he got back.
Kora had told him she didn’t want a husband. She only wanted a place to stay. That was all he cared about also, the house, he reminded himself. And as of tonight, it was all his… the ranch, the house, everything he’d ever wanted. The dream of a little boy twenty years ago, with nothing to claim as his own, had come true.
‘‘Want to head back?’’ Cheyenne broke through Winter’s thoughts. ‘‘The weather’s turning bad. No cattle drive will be moving tonight.’’
Winter slowed so he wouldn’t have to yell. ‘‘No. If I was going to cross another man’s land, I’d want a night just like this when everyone would be around their fires or in bed. The wind would muffle any sound of a herd. If they’re near enough to cross, they’ll cross tonight.’’
‘‘My guess is everyone will be in bed but us,’’ Cheyenne mumbled. ‘‘Even that sister-in-law of yours is probably back in the hay by now.’’
After what he’d seen in the barn just before they left, Winter agreed. She didn’t seem the type to wait long. ‘‘Put the word out that the man who gets her pregnant marries her. That should keep all but the serious bridegrooms away.’’
‘‘Anyone who gets her with child will probably run for the territories,’’ Cheyenne said pessimistically.
‘‘Got any other ideas of how I could get her married off fast? She’s more irritating than a rattler in a well. My new brother-in-law is invisible, and she’s the town crier and a bossy hooker rolled into one.’’
Cheyenne touched his Colt. ‘‘I could shoot her. Or we could toss her in a sack and throw her in the river like the runt of the litter she is. She’d be so far downstream within a few hours that we’d never hear about who found the body.’’
Winter laughed, not completely sure the man was kidding. ‘‘No. I don’t want to upset Kora.’’ He took a long look at the cowhand who rode at his side. ‘‘I don’t suppose you’d consider marrying her?’’
Cheyenne shoved his hat back and let the rain hit his face as he stared directly at Winter. ‘‘I’d rather shoot myself.’’
‘‘She’s not that bad-looking.’’ Winter’s hope was fading. Cheyenne had been with him when he’d pulled Jamie out of the hay and off the young cowhand. He’d heard her swearing and threats. ‘‘She’d settle down after a while. She might clean up fine, and judging from the bite she took out of my hand, she’s got all her teeth.’’
‘‘When we were dragging her back to the house, she kicked me’’-Cheyenne paused-‘‘in a place no one should kick a man. Any woman who will do that when you first meet her… there’s no telling what she will do once she knows you better.’’
‘‘Well, help me find the woman a husband. Preferably one who’s on the move and planning to settle down at least a few states away.’’
‘‘No’’-Cheyenne shook his head-‘‘I don’t have that many enemies. Just let me know if you reconsider shooting her.’’
The rain worsened, ending one of the longest conversations Winter could ever remember having with the man.
Kora pulled the dusty curtain aside and stared out into the rain for the tenth time in less than an hour. The ranch was like a small town made up of a huge bunkhouse, a barn, and several other smaller buildings. The center ground was starting
to look like one big mud puddle.
‘‘He ain’t coming back in this storm,’’ Jamie complained as she set the table. ‘‘You might as well stop cooking. If that cowboy you married last night is dumb enough to try to ride home in this rain, he deserves to be struck by lightning.’’
Jamie laughed to herself. ‘‘Knowing that crazy witchin’ luck you have, he probably won’t live any longer than the last husband. You could make a habit of changing from wedding dress to mourning clothes if he’s no heartier than Andrew Adams.’’
‘‘There’s no such kind of luck,’’ Kora corrected her little sister.
‘‘Well, Mother sure used to believe in it. She said she was hated by a witch of a neighbor before you were born. That’s why you’re left-handed and that’s why trouble follows us like a slow-moving cloud. If we ever light one place too long, it’s bound to catch us.’’
‘‘The only thing that followed my birth was yours, and I don’t want to talk about Mr. Adams!’’ Kora snapped. After staying up most of the night cleaning, she was in no mood to be teased. ‘‘He was already wounded when he rode into town in the bottom of that stage.’’ The sooner Andrew Adams was forgotten the better. ‘‘My luck didn’t have anything to do with him dying.’’
‘‘What if it follows us here?’’ Jamie asked.
‘‘Then we’ll move on as we always do,’’ Kora answered quickly. She couldn’t tell Jamie about the tickets Winter had promised because she’d agreed to look to all the world as if they were truly husband and wife until the six months ended.
Jamie faced her sister. ‘‘You did tell Win about how you married Mr. Adams after he died, didn’t you?’’ Jamie turned to two chairs and nodded as if ghosts sat in them. ‘‘Dear Mr. Dead Adams, do you take my sister to be your lawfully wedded wife? What, no answer? That must mean you do.’’
‘‘Stop!’’ Kora tried to sound stern. ‘‘That’s not how it happened.’’
‘‘But you did tell Win how it was?’’ Jamie turned back to her sister. ‘‘About how Andrew came to marry another, but she tossed his proxy in the trash, and you picked it up and answered Adams’s call only after he’d been shot four times and you knew he’d die before dawn? You did tell Win that you didn’t even think of marrying Adams before you saw them lift him off the stage. Then, he didn’t seem so bad.’’
‘‘No!’’ Kora answered. ‘‘I didn’t think it was important. Why would Winter need to know about my first marriage? What difference could it make? It wasn’t a marriage and I knew it. It was just an open door. The only opening we’d had since we left New Orleans.’’
Kora glanced out the window once more. ‘‘I thought we’d be better off up here in the Panhandle where maybe Dan could get over his cough. I never guessed that most of Mr. Adams’s letters about his farm were fiction. I was just looking for a place the three of us could live. I’d do anything it took to keep us from starving, including marrying a dead man.’’
‘‘Well, this man seems very much alive, though his eyes are hard as coal. There’s no love in him, Kora. He’s not the type you should start with when learning about loving. I’d guess the man has a rock for a heart.’’
‘‘He didn’t seem that cold.’’ Kora found him a little frightening simply because he towered over her by a foot. But she saw strength in Winter, not hardness. ‘‘I’m sure he’d understand about Adams if I told him-which I’m not planning to.’’
Jamie shrugged. ‘‘I don’t guess Win probably cares. It was legal after all. Andrew Adams had already signed the proxy before he even reached town and managed to bleed all over everyone. Once there, he was too near dead to care if he was leaving a wife, and he’d said in his letter he had no other family. I guess you did the poor man a favor by volunteering to mourn.’’ Jamie lowered her voice. ‘‘But new husband Winter is bound to notice you’re a virgin, so you’ll have to tell him something. Widows usually know what a man likes, or at least when to be quiet.’’
Kora reddened. ‘‘How could he guess? I know how to kiss. And I know all about the act of mating. It can’t be that much different from animals.’’ Her mother had said once that it was a wife’s duty not to make a fuss about it if Kora was ever lucky enough to find a man who wanted her.
Jamie giggled. ‘‘You might be surprised, big sister. Men can tell if a woman has never lain with a man.’’
Kora didn’t want to have to ask. It was not a subject people talked about, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘‘How?’’
Jamie laughed again. ‘‘Just trust me, they can.’’
Before Kora could ask more, the door flew open with a pop. Thunder seemed to roll in with the storm of men dressed in rain slickers.
She looked up as her new husband raged into the house like an angry warrior. His dark face was brushed with stubble and splattered in mud. He crossed the room in filthy boots without noticing she’d washed the floor. When he saw her, he slowed, his measured gaze sizing up the sight before him as if he’d never seen her before. There was something dark and angry about him, and something more. Something very lonely. Would he understand? she wondered.
Kora fought down the urge to run. Everything about this man spoke of his power, even the way he moved. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he ordered her out of his house and told her the marriage was a mistake.
But he only stared at her with dark searching eyes. Jamie was right, Kora thought, there was an animal wildness about him.
Glancing at Jamie, Kora drew in courage with a long breath. She’d play the part of this man’s wife as best she could. He might be more than she could handle. Or he might explode when he learned she wasn’t what she claimed. But she had to try or she, Jamie, and Dan would likely starve. This was her house if only for a while, and it was time to take control over what he’d given her.
‘‘Breakfast will be ready by the time you wash, sir.’’ Kora tried to keep her voice from shaking. Marrying a dead man was certainly a great deal easier than marrying Winter McQuillen. ‘‘And I’ll thank you to leave your muddy boots on the porch in the future.’’ She guessed he’d respect her more for advancing than if she ran in retreat.
Kora braced herself. If he was going to be the kind of man who hit his wife, she might as well find it out now. There was no use living in fear.
The cowhand at Winter’s left whispered the word wash as though it were a new language and he’d never heard the term before.
Winter straightened slightly, like a general preparing for a battle. The fingers of his gun hand opened and closed as tired muscles fought down anger. No one had spoken to him as she dared since he’d been a child. In the year since he’d taken over the running of the ranch, his word had been law and no one had ever questioned anything he did. Now this tiny woman faced him as if she had an army to back her.
Kora refused to move as he took a slow step toward her. She could see Dan out of the corner of her eye sitting at the kitchen table picking at his breakfast. Her brother wouldn’t even turn to look in her direction if she screamed. He saw no world but his own.
Jamie stepped to Kora’s side protectively, blocking Winter’s path to his wife. ‘‘We moved a washstand up to the third floor, and I hauled water up for you. But don’t bother to thank me, or expect it again.’’ When her new brother-in-law continued to stare at his wife and gave no reaction to her, Jamie looked past him to the others. ‘‘The rest of you can clean up out on the back porch. But don’t take long or the gravy will have to be cut.’’
Winter turned suddenly and took the stairs three at a time without saying a word. Both sisters let out a breath as the rest of the riders followed Jamie to the back porch.
For a moment Kora didn’t know what to do. She felt as if she’d just won a battle in what promised to be a long war. She looked around at the table. Except for the biscuits, everything was ready. Her first day, or night, of marriage had gone quite well. The only problem now was she had a husband.
She smiled to herself. She’d faced him
straight-on. Since the day she’d been brave enough to step up and claim to be Andrew Adams’s wife, she’d felt herself growing stronger. Jamie had always been the fighter. But Kora saw something in this man she’d married-a strength, a need. If it took fighting to pull him out, then she’d fight. For in the end, even if she lost, she’d be a stronger person when she left him.
‘‘Watch the bread!’’ she called over her shoulder as she hurried up the stairs. ‘‘I have to talk to Winter for a minute.’’
FIVE
WHEN SHE STEPPED ONTO THE THIRD FLOOR, KORA almost tripped over a pile of muddy clothes. Winter must have stripped as he climbed. Slowly she leaned and picked up the garments, thinking of how tired he’d have to be after riding all night. Maybe she should have just offered to let him sit down to breakfast instead of insisting he wash first.
The sunrise was still shades of purple light, but she could see the outline of Winter as she moved into the attic room. He’d removed all his clothing, except his jeans, and was standing with his back to her. Somehow, leaning over the basin, bare chested and wearing so little, he didn’t seem all that invincible. After placing the clothes in a basket she’d brought up linens in, she stood at the top of the stairs watching him.
Her new bedroom was cluttered with things she and Jamie could carry up, but it still looked more like an attic than a bedroom. Only the man before her seemed to belong in this huge room framed in windows with only miles of sky for curtains.
As she watched, he poured a pitcher of water over his head and scrubbed away the dirt. Water splashed around the washstand, making a plopping sound on the hardwood floor below. Kora let out a cry as moisture spotted the wood, already badly in need of polishing.
Winter’s body stiffened at her outburst. He grabbed a towel and turned to face her. A worried frown darkened his already stormy expression.
When he saw where she stared, he said in a tone more of explanation than apology, ‘‘I’m sorry about the water. I guess I’m used to washing in the tub at the washstand. This little basin is pretty, but it doesn’t hold much. I could scrub up-’’