by Sasha Gold
Dear God, this furious man was Will. This was her husband. She swallowed. For some reason a small breathless laugh bubbled up. He narrowed his eyes even more.
“Maybe,” she said softly.
A strange awareness crackled between them. His gaze fell from her eyes to her lips and back again. In the letters, he’d referred to their marital relations delicately, saying he thought it best if they take some time, a month he thought, to become acquainted. But now he looked at her with a mixture of ire and hunger. What had she done to offend him?
“I might be Will. Maybe.” He snapped.
She lifted her hand in the narrow space between them. “Pleased to meet you, Will Maybe.”
He shook his head and took her hand. The touch of his hand sent a tingle along her fingers and palm. The sensation traveled up her arm and she had to bite back a murmur of surprise.
“You said you were twenty-five.”
“I said mid-twenties.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-two. But I lived in an orphanage and they didn’t keep records very well.”
His gaze hardened. “So, you could be younger than twenty-two. Am I right?”
She flushed and tried to tug her hand free, but he held her tightly. “I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t think that’s accurate.”
“Usually mail-order brides lie about being younger, not older.”
“I didn’t lie, Mr. Travis. I simply don’t know. I thought my revelation of growing up in an orphanage would engender some concern. A little sympathy.”
She sounded prim and indignant, even to her own ear. She hadn’t intended to say a word about the orphanage, maybe ever, and yet the words tumbled from her lips without a moment’s hesitation.
“And oftentimes,” he went on to say. “They claim to be as pure as the undriven snow and then show up with a brat on their hip.”
“You never asked if I was pure, but I can assure you I don’t have a child.”
“You’re a little different than what I expected,” he growled.
She felt paralyzed. Staring up at him, she wondered if his next words would be to send her home. That she didn’t suit him, and he wanted to send for another bride. Her eyes stung and she blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.
“I’m sorry, Will. If you’re not agreeable-”
“I’m agreeable, Charlotte. I’m more than agreeable. I just hope you know what you’ve signed on for. I’m not looking for love. I’m looking for a wife. That’s all. And you look like a girl who wants romance and poetry. There’ll be none of that foolishness. I’ve got plenty of money and you won’t ever want for anything, but I’m not one for pretty words. Understand?”
She gave a brittle nod. “I understand.”
Chapter Two
Will
Will and his brother, Nick, had spent most of the day working the cattle, sorting them for a cattle drive to Fort Worth the following week. They stood by the fence of the corral, discussing the number of heifers they would sell, what price they might fetch, and other details of the trip. Normally, talk of the cattle would have Will’s complete attention, but not today. He barely heard his brother. Instead, his attention was on Charlotte, his wife of seven days. She stood on the porch some fifty yards away, speaking to Silas and his wife. Silas’s grandchild was going to be baptized in a few days, and Charlotte had offered to sew the baptismal gown.
Charlotte leaned over the porch railing as she laughed at something Silas said. Dressed in a soft blue skirt and a white, lacy blouse, she looked every inch the proper lady. A perfect ranch wife for a man of his wealth and standing. Will’s full attention was on Charlotte, and Nick knew it.
“I found one of the fillies milling around behind the corral yesterday.”
Will didn’t respond.
“The stallions couldn’t take their eyes off her.”
“Is that so.” Will’s posture was unchanged, eyes fixed on his wife and everything she did.
“Yep. She was teasing them, I could tell. Prancing around in a blue skirt and lacy blouse.”
“What?” Hearing his brother talk about something white and lacy broke Will’s trance.
“Brother, you haven’t heard a thing I’ve said, have you?”
His brother’s sharp tone drew his attention from Charlotte.
“I’m listening, Nick. Twelve hundred head. Of that eight hundred are heifers. Sounds about right.”
Nick followed his gaze to where Charlotte stood. “You sure you want to leave your bride to go on a dusty cattle drive?”
Will scrubbed a hand down his face. “I need to go on a cattle drive. Actually, I need to go on about ten.”
Nick smirked. His brother had given him unmitigated hell over the idea of getting a mail-order bride. “Trouble? Already?”
Will turned his attention back to the corral, and to the horses Nick had brought for the trip to Fort Worth.
“No trouble. I’m just trying to keep my distance. I didn’t think she’d be so…”
“Pretty?” Nick offered.
“Yeah. Why would a woman who looks like that want to come to Texas to be a mail-order bride? She says there’s a black mark against her back in her hometown. No one wanted to offer for her. She says there are a bunch of girls who grew up at the orphanage like that.”
Nick grunted. “Hard to believe.”
“I told her we’d take a month to get to know each other.”
“That was gentlemanly of you.”
“I regret the hell out of it now. That’s why I’m grateful to get away. From her. She’s been here a week and keeping away is enough to make me lose my wits.”
One of the horses ambled over and Will patted his neck. The animals had served as a welcome distraction this past week. Nick raised some of the finest horses in Texas. He’d broken the three geldings and Will had spent the prior days putting the horses through their paces. He was certain they’d do well on the two-day trip to Fort Worth.
He let out a tortured breath, thinking about Charlotte. Every day he worked long hours, well past dark. Charlotte always waited for him, ready to serve him dinner. They’d dine together, mostly in silence. She tried to make conversation, and he tried to ignore her floral scent, or the way she gestured when she spoke, or the way her curves filled her blouse.
“A trip to Fort Worth will do you good, get your mind on something else for a few days.”
“And then what? I told her a month. I’ll have 20 days left to go.”
“Maybe you’ll need to build a new barn. On the West pasture. And sleep there too.”
“Shut the hell up and let’s finish with the cattle before it gets dark.”
The brothers spent the rest of the afternoon looking at the steers that had been culled from the herd. Nick left for home just before sundown. Will returned to the house to find Charlotte in the parlor, working on the baptismal gown. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and she set it aside.
There were times when it seemed she wanted to kiss him, or touch him. He avoided all of that, stopping her with a hard look. If she so much as drew near, he felt a powerful surge of lust grip him. Everything about her frayed his self-control. Her beauty. Her laughter. Being in the same room with her tormented him. And yet, he found that the end of the day was soon becoming his favorite time of the day.
“Caroline made chicken and dumplings,” she said with a smile. She drew nearer, but stopped a few paces away. “It smells wonderful. Are you hungry?”
“I am,” he said.
She flinched. His tone was too gruff. He knew that. Yet he used the same tone almost every time he spoke with her.
“I’ll go wash up and be down in a moment.”
They ate dinner in their usual silence, but he could tell she wanted to tell him something. She shifted in her seat and fidgeted with the linen napkin. In the candlelight, she looked especially lovely. Her hair was pulled up in a twist. A few tresses framed her face. His hands itched to tug the hairpins free and thread his fi
ngers through her silken tresses.
“Twenty-three more days.”
Her startled response was the first clue that he’d said the words aloud. She regarded him with wide eyes. After blinking a few times, she shook her head with bewilderment.
“What’s that?”
“You’ll have the guest room for twenty-three more days, and then you’ll go to bed with me each evening.”
He imagined she might recoil, but she said nothing and took a small, dainty bite of her cake. She chewed thoughtfully and set her fork down. “You’ve been counting?”
“Maybe.” It was an absurd response. Obviously, he’d been counting.
She reached beside her and lifted a small box and set it in front of him. “I bought you a wedding present.”
He eyed it suspiciously. She hadn’t responded to his comment about twenty-three days and now she offered him a gift. What did she mean by that, he wondered. Cautiously, he opened the box. A pair of silver cufflinks glinted in the candlelight. He lifted one to read the face. It was etched with his initials.
“You bought me a gift?” he asked.
“I thought I would wait to give it to you, but the spirit moved me to give it to you sooner.”
Guilt twisted inside him. He set the cufflink back in the box and put it on the table. “I don’t have a gift for you. I can buy one in Fort Worth, if you tell me what you want.”
“That’s very romantic.”
He shrugged. “It might have been romantic if I had bought it before you gave me a gift.”
“No, Will. Your offer to buy me a gift is touching. It makes me so happy. I can’t begin to tell you.”
He eyed her, waiting for more. She didn’t sound particularly happy. It seemed more likely that she was putting some plan in motion. Did she want him to buy some lavish piece of jewelry? A diamond necklace? Pearls perhaps. He could see something adorning her neck and imagined surprising her with an expensive gift.
The thought almost made him smile. He’d return from Fort Worth, his desire to touch and hold her ten times what it was now. He’d give her a string of diamonds or pearls or whatever she wanted and then he’d carry her straight to bed. To hell with waiting a month.
“What would you like, Charlotte?”
His voice was rough with desire. She clearly heard the need in his voice because her cheeks pinked. His cock, always hard when she stepped into the room, throbbed almost painfully. He was thirty-five years old, but she had him randy as a boy. He fisted his hand.
She shook her head and looked away demurely. “I couldn’t possibly ask you for anything, Will. You already sent me too much money to prepare for life in Texas. Asking for more would simply be greedy.”
She gave a small laugh, one that made his blood seethe with desire.
“You’re going to spoil me, if you’re not careful.”
A growl formed in his chest. He wanted to spoil her. The thought surprised him because that wasn’t at all what he’d set out to do. His intention all along was to have a reliable woman. A helpmate. What he ended up with was a girl who was far too young for him, knew next to nothing about life on a ranch and had made his life hell ever since she’d arrived.
“I want to spoil you. Then maybe we can renegotiate the notion of waiting a month.”
She nodded slowly, her lips pressed together with a resolute and firm determination.
“Diamonds? Emeralds? Anything you want, Charlotte, name it.”
“I don’t want jewels, Will.”
He frowned. A slow burning anger sparked inside him. Did she want to return to Boston? It was impossible. He couldn’t let her go. In the days since she’d come, he thought of nothing but her. She filled his house with warmth and made the big house feel like a home.
She set her plate aside and folded her hands in front of her. “I want to go on the cattle drive.”
He narrowed his eyes. What was she talking about? “What cattle drive?”
She rolled her eyes and her lips quirked with a smile that was pure sass. His relief that she wasn’t asking to go back to Texas was replaced by a desire to kiss that smirk from her lips.
“Fort. Worth.” She said each word slowly as if he were some dim-witted fool.
He couldn’t hold back the grin, or the laughter that followed. He gasped for breath and wiped the tears from his eyes. “You… aw, Charlotte… you want to go on a cattle drive,” he managed to say between gales of laughter. “To Fort Worth? You?”
She waited, impassively, for him to stop laughing. “You said I could have whatever I wanted. I want to go with you.”
“Absolutely not.” He rubbed his forehead and chuckled. “No, Charlotte, not this time and not ever.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“It’s dangerous. A man’s job. I won’t even consider it.”
“You’re letting Mary go.”
“Mary always goes. Silas has brought his wife ever since they got married twenty-five years ago. I don’t remember Mary not going. If she didn’t go, we’d have to endure Silas’s cooking and I don’t think I could get the men to undertake a cattle drive and bad cooking.”
“So why can’t I go? I could help her with the cooking. Or whatever she needed.”
“You don’t know how to cook.”
“I can peel a potato. I can follow directions.”
Her voice rose a few notches and her eyes sparked with indignation. She was even more lovely to him when she grew impassioned and he had an overwhelming urge to pull her onto his lap and bury his face against her neck. This girl had been here only a few days and he needed her like he needed to breathe.
She wanted to go on a cattle drive? He wanted to wrap her in silk and satin and keep her locked away in a tower. The idea of her getting anywhere near danger made him half-crazed with fear.
“Please tell me you’ll think about my going,” Charlotte said in a let’s-be-reasonable voice.
But this went beyond reason. He knew that.
“I won’t think about it,” he said coldly. “Don’t ask me again.”
To drive his point home, he brought up something they hadn’t talked about. The first moment he’d seen her being manhandled on the train.
“I shouldn’t have even let you make that trip from Boston by yourself, Charlotte. I should have come for you, to keep you safe. You very nearly got yourself hurt by a drunk and that was in the middle of a crowded train. You think I’m going to take you out on the trail?”
He saw the pain his words cost her. A look came over her like she might tear up, but he wasn’t having any of it.
“Don’t waste your tears on me, girl.” He lowered his voice. “What I say goes. If I say you can’t go on a cattle drive, then that’s final. You signed a marriage proxy and you promised to love and obey. I promise you the love part of that doesn’t matter one bit to me, but the obey part I take very seriously.”
She kept her gaze on him, as if trying to stare him down, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she rose from her chair and went upstairs. He heard her steps as she ascended and listened as she walked down the hallway past his bedroom. A moment later, the sound of her door closing with a firm thud told him he could expect many more long and lonesome nights.
Chapter Three
Charlotte
The collar of the gown was giving her fits and she had to tear out much of her morning’s work. She grimaced. This was Will’s fault. She blamed him entirely. He hadn’t interrupted her or done anything to overtly contribute to her disastrous stitches. No, he’d upset her so much that she’d tossed and turned all night. This morning she’d felt restless. Lost. She’d dressed quickly, hoping to find him before he left, to make peace with him, but he was gone.
It had only been eight days since she’d arrived in Colter Canyon. An impossibly short amount of time to pass any sort of judgment about her marriage to Will Travis. And yet she did. He kept his distance from her or simply rejected her anytime she tried to draw close. Was it too much to ask that he sh
ow her some small shred of tenderness?
She threw her sewing aside and muttered as she moved across the room to the window. Each time she stood at the parlor window, she found herself looking for him. It was pathetic, and self-loathing swirled inside her. She never imagined being a clinging vine and yet there she was hoping for a glimpse of him, imagining him taking her hand in his, or even seeking her out.
But no.
It was as if he could hardly stand to be near her. The cufflinks she’d been so proud to give him, he’d tossed aside after hardly even a passing glance. And now he was traveling to Fort Worth to escape her? She was being petulant. He had business to conduct and the cattle drive had been in the works long before she’d arrived, but it still stung.
Caroline, the cook, stepped into the parlor. “Dinner will be a little late, Mrs. Travis.”
“That’s fine. Can I help you with something?”
The woman shook her head. Caroline acted a little offended any time she tried to help with the cooking. She’d been the Travis cook for too many years to share her kitchen, she would say, only half-joking, it seemed.
“I’m fine, Mrs. Travis. I had to help Mary with gathering things for the trip to Fort Worth. Silas put his back out and wasn’t able to help her.”
With a smile and a respectful nod, Caroline excused herself and returned to the kitchen. Charlotte wandered out the door and along the length of the porch. The wooden slats creaked underfoot. The soft spring breeze carried the scent of rose blossoms from the bushes Will’s mother had planted around the house when she was a young bride.
From the porch, Charlotte could see Mary working in the shed. Someone, one of Will’s men probably, had backed the buckboard into the shed. Mary climbed up and carried a box to the front. She bent over and disappeared from view. A moment later she stood and wiped her brow before returning to the back of the wagon and stepping down.
Mary was more than twice her age, and yet she was an integral part of the cattle drive. Charlotte closed her eyes and shook her head. She felt bitter, unwanted and resentful.
At least Mary and Silas treated her kindly. She turned on her heel and went to her room. After rummaging in her trunks, she found the trousers she’d made. She changed out of her dress and donned the work clothes she hadn’t yet worn. Next she found the boots she’d purchased for work on the ranch.