by Linda Ford
“Are you listening?” His voice interrupted her inspection.
“I missed that last part.”
The next hour passed in a blink. After seeing him with the children, she shouldn’t have been surprised at how incredibly patient he was with teaching her. Nothing quite made sense at first. He wrote the problems on the slate board and solved them, then showed her the solution using the measuring cups.
She scooted closer and followed his directions on the slate board. Their shoulders touched and he didn’t move away. Fearful of spooking him, she didn’t press nearer. He erased the problem and wrote another. After a few false starts, she completed the task with a frown. “That doesn’t look right.”
“There’s one way to check it.”
She scooped equal amounts of flour into a smaller cup and measured them both into a larger cup, eyeing the results. “That’s right! That worked.”
“Of course it worked. It’s math.”
Tessa grinned. Reaching above her, she brushed a dusting of flour from his forehead. “You’ll need a wash after this.”
He caught her hand against his temple. With infinite care, he turned his head and her knuckles scraped along the shadow of his beard. Dragging out the moment, she placed her other hand against his chest, noticing the strength there, the gentle beat of his heart against her fingertips. A soul-deep yearning filled her.
As though it was the most natural thing in the world, he tipped his head and kissed her, his mouth wooing hers. She threaded her hands through his hair, marveling at the sleek texture.
As she sank into the sensation, a call sounded from the children’s bedroom and they broke apart.
Her gaze skittered away.
Shane stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Sounds like Owen.”
The call sounded again.
“He wants water,” Tessa said. “He always wants one last drink of water.”
“He doesn’t like being left alone.”
“This will just take a moment.”
While Tessa saw to Owen, the sounds of Shane cleaning up the kitchen drifted through the door. The noise of dishes clinking together was comforting. Such a small thing she’d taken for granted before. Right now the simple task filled her with longing. The familiar sounds of another person bustling in the kitchen were music to her soul.
By the time she’d settled both Alyce and Owen, he was gone. Tears of frustration sprang in her eyes. She longed to turn back the clock and play out the moment once more. She sat in the kitchen for a long time after that, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong.
He wasn’t indifferent to her, and yet whenever she approached him, he turned away. Which had her wondering once again if he found some problem with her, if he found something lacking in her. She pressed two fingers against her lips and recalled their earlier kiss.
Her chest ached. Owen wasn’t the only one in this house who didn’t like to be left alone.
Chapter Twelve
The temperate weather melted all but a few patches of snow, making Shane’s life easier while he worked outside. The change also meant Tessa and the children were enjoying the subtle shift in temperature. They weren’t underfoot exactly, she took great pains avoiding him during the working portion of the day, but she left an indelible mark wherever she went.
The ranch hands adored her. Each evening in the bunkhouse he lay with his hands threaded behind his head as they spoke of her in glowing terms. She and Parker exchanged recipes. Wheeler, whose mother had been a seamstress, was teaching her how to sew. The other men treated her with kid gloves, watching her from a fascinated distance.
A gradual shift took place in the general mood of the ranch, a change in the rhythm of everyone’s routine. Though a perpetual winter haze hung low over the horizon, a quiet sense of anticipation took hold. Usually about this time the men grew surly with the shortened days and he was hard-pressed to keep them in line. Petty fights erupted. Tiny irritations exploded into fisticuffs. Not this year.
Everyone was happy with the changes. Which didn’t explain why everything annoyed Shane. He knew his frustrations were unfounded, and that annoyed him all the more. His reactions were irrational and out of proportion. There was no reason or explanation for his surly mood. He’d got exactly what he’d envisioned. If anything, the marriage was turning out even better than he’d hoped for at the start.
The four of them had sunk into a comfortable routine. The exact sort of comfortable routine he’d always desired. Each evening they ate dinner together. Then he played with the children for an hour or two while Tessa worked on one of her numerous projects. She never sat still for long. Either she was knitting a lumpy scarf, mending some stray piece of clothing or experimenting with a new recipe. Like a metronome, she kept up a steady beat of activity.
He had no cause for complaint and yet something bugged him, something he couldn’t quite put a finger on. She respected his time with the children, even encouraged their interaction. The house was neat and tidy. Everyone was happy.
Everyone but him. Lord help him if Milt ever found out. The man would never let him live it down.
She’d kissed him, and yet he still felt her hesitancy, as though she withheld a part of herself. She didn’t show that same hesitancy around the other men, and that troubled him. Why was she holding back with him and not the others? Why did she prefer their company to his?
The next morning, enmeshed in his troubled thoughts, he rounded the corner and collided with the source of his agitation. Tessa stumbled back with a warm smile.
“I didn’t think you’d be around today,” she said. “Last night you mentioned checking the cattle pastures.”
Glancing over his shoulder, he gauged her trajectory. “Is that why you’re on the way to the bunkhouse? Because you knew I wouldn’t be there? Where are Alyce and Owen?”
Her cheeks flamed. “The children are napping and I need Wheeler’s help.”
“Can it wait? He has other work.” They were behind on chores already. He’d let the men know already that today was all about catching up. He didn’t want the weather trapping them unaware, and he had a bad feeling there was another storm on the horizon. “Why don’t you check back with him tomorrow?”
A flicker of apprehension crossed her face. “Are you angry with me? Have I done something wrong?”
“It’s not that.” He was torn between wanting to draw her closer and needing to keep her at arm’s distance. “The next few days will be busy. The men have other work to do.”
She drew back her shoulders. “I always ask if they have time.”
Shane heaved a breath. “They’re not going to refuse you. You’re the boss’s wife. Or had you forgotten that?”
“Stop it.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “Stop sucking in your breath whenever you speak with me. I’m sick of it.”
“Easy there.” Her sudden fury startled him. “What’s gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into me? Your stupid heaving sighs. That’s what’s gotten into me. Have I done one thing over the past weeks to disappoint you?”
He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “No.”
Not once since he’d known her had he seen this side of Tessa. She was quaking with anger, her lips trembling, her face mottled red.
“Then why are you always glaring at me? Why are you always sighing and muttering as though I’m some problem that can’t be fixed? I don’t know what you want from me. I’m trying. Truly, I am. I don’t know what else you expect of me.”
Trapped by his regrets, he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” That wasn’t entirely truthful. He’d been itching to lash out at someone for days. He’d felt his control slipping away and he desperately wanted it back. “We both knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”
“It doesn’t have to be this difficult either. You’re not helping.”
“Me?” Her tirade set him back on his heels. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me as well
. I come for dinner each evening and I promptly leave as soon as you usher me out the door.”
“I don’t ask you to leave.” Her stance faltered. “Once the children are asleep, there’s nothing left to say, is there?”
Shane rubbed the back of his neck. He was reliving his first marriage all over again. Abby had accused him of being too withdrawn on more than one occasion.
Instead of telling Tessa that it didn’t matter how hard he tried, he’d still be a rancher, he paced back and forth before her. He knew cattle and horses and hard work. He’d always be a disappointment because he had nothing else to offer. There was no use trying.
He was making her unhappy. Christmas was around the corner, and though they’d fallen into a comfortable routine, Tessa remained elusively distant. He’d given her space, and she’d drifted further away.
“We did our best,” he began, his voice thick with an apology. “Maybe this was a mistake.”
He didn’t know women. He didn’t know Tessa. They had nothing in common but the children. He was making her miserable. That alone was reason enough for ending things.
Her face paled. “This isn’t a mistake. We can make this work but you must meet me halfway.”
He’d thought she’d leap at the chance of an escape. Instead she was staring at him as though he’d betrayed her, treating him as though he’d gone and done her some great wrong. “I won’t keep you from the children, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I love them. You know I do. I need you as well.”
She didn’t need him and they both knew it. That was the whole problem.
“Don’t you see? This is all I am.” He swept his arms in an encompassing gesture. “This is all I have to give you.”
Her eyes wide and pleading, she looked up into his face. “I don’t believe that.”
All at once he felt vulnerable and exposed. Raw emotion knifed through his chest, sending his heart hammering. He didn’t have the words. She wasn’t the enemy, this wasn’t an attack, and yet he was threatened in a way he couldn’t explain.
His mood was precarious, balancing between panic and fear. He needed space between them because his thoughts became muddled when she was near. Away from her, his path was clear and unfettered. Knowing she was near and didn’t return his affection would drown him. He needed a firm grip on his emotions. Somehow he was going to find a way to handle this crazy mess he’d drawn them both into.
He watched her shoulders slump, and a cloud of tenderness enveloped him. If he didn’t even know what made him happy, how did he make someone else happy? Her fears were not unfounded. He’d offered her safety and he wouldn’t renege on his bargain.
“It’s all right,” he soothed, stalling for time. “We don’t have to make a decision this minute.” He drew in a breath, then recalled her earlier complaint about his sighing. He expelled the air from his lungs slowly, quietly. What was she thinking? How did he fix the turmoil he’d set in motion? “We can talk more about this tonight.”
Her eyes glistened. “Do you promise? Can we actually have a conversation for once?”
“Sure.”
“I mean actually talk. Not about the weather or the cattle or the children, but really talk.”
“We talk about other stuff every day.”
She stamped her foot and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. “Sometimes I think you deliberately misunderstand me.”
If that were actually true, this particular conversation might be easier. “I promise you, the only thing I’m trying to do is understand. You have to meet me halfway as well.”
“All right. Tonight. I have to go,” she declared abruptly. “The children are napping. I have to be back before they wake up.”
Maybe he should try a different approach. “Tessa, wait.”
She spun around. “What?”
He’d hurt her just now, and his heart wrenched at the thought. He burned to see beyond her mystified expression into the very heart of her. Maybe then he’d know what to say, what to do. Maybe then he’d know what she needed. He was a man who’d never had tenderness in his life, and he had no tenderness to give.
“It’ll all work out one way or another,” he hedged carefully. “You’ll see.”
He’d caused her pain because he was thinking only of himself. How did he become more than what he was? Was that even possible?
“Sure,” she said, her reply decidedly lacking in conviction. “See you tonight. Don’t be late. We’re having potted chicken.”
He definitely enjoyed her cooking and eagerly anticipated dinner each night. Sometimes the ingredients were a touch imaginative for his taste, but he couldn’t fault her effort. “You cook really well. I like that thing you made the other night. You know, with the potatoes that were sliced and there was a kind of a sauce.”
She tossed him a look tinged with suspicion. “Those are called potatoes in the German style, according to Bartleby.”
“I liked those.”
“Then I’ll make them tonight.”
He looked forward to the potatoes even though he was developing a definite annoyance with constant mention of Bartleby’s name. He wished he’d burned the book when he’d had the chance. The man was everywhere. In the laundry, in the household cleaning, in the cooking. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was jealous of the man. The only thing Bartleby needed was a chapter on the care and nurturing of wives.
“That book seems really useful,” he said, wondering if he sounded as inane as he felt. “Maybe I could borrow it sometime?”
“If you ever make potatoes in the German style, I penciled some notes about the recipe in the margin.” She flashed him a cheeky grin. “Bartleby uses too much salt.”
“I didn’t know Bartleby made mistakes. I thought he was infallible.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
You’re not a mistake, Shane.
Was she haunted by her own words? “Tonight, then.”
“Tonight.”
Despite her attempt at lightening the mood, she was still annoyed with him. He felt her lingering ire in the stiff set of her shoulders as she marched in the direction of the house. He ached to bang his head against something hard and unyielding. He’d failed miserably in his first marriage, and the same uncertainty returned. Each time he felt the faint stirrings of something more, a door slammed in his face. Instead of repeating the old mistakes, he was simply creating all sorts of new mistakes.
As if that weren’t bad enough, he took three steps and ran into Wheeler, who didn’t appear happy to see him.
Normally ready with a joke or a sly remark, Wheeler’s dark face was set in a grim mask of annoyance. “When you hired me, you hired me as a free man, right?”
“Yes,” Shane cautiously replied. He didn’t know much about Wheeler’s past, and he’d never asked. Sometimes details slipped out in conversation. Wheeler’s parents were dead, and he had a brother who’d fought and died for the Union Army. Other than that, the man was a mystery. “You can come and go as you please. You know that.”
“Do you have any complaints with my work?”
“None.”
“Then as a free man, my free time is mine to do with as I please.” Wheeler crossed his arms over his chest. “Or have things changed? I’m helping Tessa learn to stitch. Nothing more.”
“Nothing has changed. I don’t want you to feel obligated toward Tessa because she’s my wife.”
“When have I ever felt obligated to do something?”
“Never.” Shane scraped a hand down his face. “I’ve been short-tempered, I know. I’m sorry. I’m figuring things out.”
“You better figure things out faster, or you’re going to lose that little lady.” Wheeler’s white teeth flashed against his dark skin, and he relaxed his defensive stance. “We’ve been through a lot together. I’ve never seen you tied up in knots like this.”
He was making Tessa miserable, driving her away. And he didn’t know how to stop.
Shane absently rubbed a hand across his chest. “What if I make a mistake, Wheeler, and I can’t fix it?”
Wheeler threw back his head and roared with laughter. “You made a mistake, all right.”
“What’s funny about that?” Shane demanded.
“You’ll figure it out.”
With that oblique response, Wheeler turned his back and set off for the barn. Nettled, Shane adjusted his hat low on his head. He was a man who acted with methodical precision. He’d never been one for introspection. He mostly trusted his gut. He’d built this ranch on a solid foundation of hard work and perseverance. From the beginning, he’d surrounded himself with people he trusted. No matter how hard he worked or how much he gained, something had always been missing.
The children had changed him. He’d seen a glimpse of something more. They were innocent, and seeing the world through their eyes, he’d seen a chance at a different future. For them, for himself. He’d desperately wanted to share that vision with Abby, and she’d shunned it. Owen and Alyce were not his by blood, and yet they were a part of him. They’d shattered his defenses and left him exposed.
He wanted to share his vision with Tessa, but something held him back. The moment was never right. It was always too soon or too late. The lingering doubt that he was the wrong man held him in check. He’d rushed things before. Made assumptions. Not this time.
Except the gulf between him and Tessa was widening. He should apologize. He would apologize. He’d give her time first, let her cool down. Her apprehension had brought a renewed sense of clarity. He’d promised her safety, and he’d left her feeling as though he might turn her out at any moment. Sometimes he felt as though she was testing him, seeing how far he’d let her go. Yet that made no sense either. She was terrified of being out on her own again. Why push him in that direction?