She tried again. With a sweep of her arm, she tracked the imaginary path of the sun back to where it had been earlier in the day.
There was a long pause, then Ray said, “One day?”
Close.
She nodded, lifting one finger out of habit. Then, unhappy with that answer, she grunted and pinched her finger and thumb together, indicating smaller and smaller.
“Less than a day?”
She smiled at him, forgetting her filth, forgetting her stinky soaked skirts. Happy. Relieved.
“You’re telling me Jem married you today?”
She smiled less certainly at Ray’s tone and nodded, not bothering to motion with one finger, barely daring to move.
He actually sounded angry.
He shouldn’t be. If he only knew all Jem had done. That he’d saved her. She swelled to nearly bursting inside, wanting to tell him everything about Daniel and the ad in the paper, about him selling her to the mean-eyed man from the train, and what Jem had done. She wanted to tell Ray about the puppy too—how Jem had acted the hero.
Annie stopped to pet the pup’s soft fur, already forgiving her for the accident on the train, when she’d wet on Annie’s dress, and also for ruining her only pair of boots. It was useless to be mad at the poor thing. She hadn’t done it on purpose. She couldn’t help it. Annie paused, thinking again about the mean-eyed man and how Jem had stopped to talk to him beside the train. What had Jem said to the man? Did he live nearby?
Would he try to cause trouble?
She felt suddenly dizzy with worry.
But she couldn’t possibly tell Ray any of the story. Hopefully, Jem would. She had questions of her own. Questions about Jem’s wife. How long ago had she died? Where had Jem come from? He’d obviously arrived today from some distance and it seemed like he’d been gone for some time.
Did he live here?
No, she thought. But he was obviously coming back. Maybe for good?
“I can’t believe it. Married.” Ray shook his head, apparently musing aloud. “Lorelei’s been gone, what—not quite a year? I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe he’d do it so suddenly. Today?” He glanced at Annie, and it was more than clear her appearance had a good deal to do with his surprise.
Annie ducked her head, ashamed at how dirty she’d let herself get, even before all the accidents had occurred with the puppy. Mrs. Ruskin would’ve been shocked to the core to see her now. All the Ruskins would have gawked at the sight of her.
“I suppose I always expected him to marry again,” Ray continued, still ruminating aloud. “He’s a young man and Mae needs a mother. Still, it seems...soon-ish. Unexpected. So very unexpected.”
As Ray rambled on, Annie looked back at Jem riding behind them. From the sure way he rode with his small herd in tow, he was obviously an expert horseman. She’d learned too that he was considerate of the horses. At one point as they were headed out of town into what appeared to be the Colorado wilderness, he’d stopped to check on one of his horses. He’d flagged Ray to stop and told him the horse was favoring one leg. Then he’d dropped back and slowed his pace, obviously concerned. Ray had slowed too, Annie sensed, making their trip even longer.
But it wasn’t just Jem’s consideration of the horses that impressed her. Despite his intimidating looks, she caught herself admiring the width of his shoulders, his perfect easy posture in the saddle. Everything about him. His leather coat, his hat. Even his heavy beard—how it covered his face, giving him an air of mystery. She felt a little flutter of awareness rise in her chest. He just seemed so powerful. Strong. And he was her husband now. They’d signed a paper. He had that paper tucked down his shirt even now.
They were married.
Married.
Would he want to touch her? Annie wondered suddenly. Surely he wouldn’t expect to bring her to his bed tonight. She swallowed uneasily. He barely seemed able to look at her, so she couldn’t imagine him wanting her that way. But, if he did... No. Even if that was his intention, she couldn’t. It would be too strange. To lie beside him. Beside any man. She never had, despite what Daniel had insinuated. Her mother may have been “not all she should’ve been,” but Annie had been raised proper. She’d been taught to love God. She read her Bible. She went to church. Why, she’d never even kissed a boy, not even a peck on the cheek. Not that any of the boys back in Tennessee had looked at her that way. She suspected Mr. Ruskin—both as the town preacher and as her guardian—would’ve set them straight quick if they had looked at her with any romantic interest, anything that wasn’t perfectly proper. But that had never been a problem.
In truth, most of the people in town were practiced in not seeing her at all.
She was Annie, the mute.
The preacher’s dumb maidservant.
That girl.
Folks in church hadn’t truly been unkind to her, not deliberately. At least she didn’t think it had been deliberate. They’d simply been uncomfortable around her. How could they possibly realize that whenever they looked right through her it felt worse than a slap?
“I’m tired of people dying,” Ray was still talking aloud, seeming to include her now. “We’ve had enough of death and dying, and I’m not getting any younger. I’m worried about Ben—he’s just not right these days. Not the Ben he used to be. He needs something new—something to hope in. He needs family. But he’s in no shape to marry anyone—none whatsoever—bitter like he is. He needs Jem—he needs to forgive and move on—and he needs Mae. She’s a light, ain’t she? Having someone young around the house might help take his mind off his troubles. Something new. Something positive. I hope so. He needs...joy.”
Annie murmured in agreement, unsure if he truly expected any response from her. She glanced back again at Jem to find him watching them, his expression preoccupied. She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking.
Wondering what kind of regrets he had for getting himself stuck with her.
And what kind of future lay before them.
Two strangers, no ring. But married nonetheless. Married.
EIGHT
As Jem rode behind the ox wagon toward Castle Ranch, he led five stock horses behind him, keeping Lorelei’s mare, Flora, closest to him. He’d removed a stone from her hoof miles back, and she still seemed tender on it. He’d have to keep an eye on it when they got back to the ranch, maybe soak it.
He kept an eye on the wagon too. Not that he had much choice with it being in front of him. It was a sight he couldn’t have gotten away from if he’d wanted to. Mae must’ve been sleeping in the back, for she hadn’t poked her head up in a long while. If she were awake, she’d surely be leaning into the front seat to pet that puppy and pester Ray with questions. It was probably just as well that Ray could concentrate on his driving, given the precipitous drop to their left.
The wagon was an open-air affair, with a front bench seat wide enough for two, maybe three in a pinch. The wagon bed was framed in graying wood planks, held in place by iron bands and bolts that could have held an entire train car together.
Because the ox wagon didn’t have an arched cover over the back, Jem had a pretty clear view of the front seat. And Annie.
She wasn’t wearing a bonnet. Didn’t appear to own one either. No baggage to her name. No change of clothes. Nothing. Not even a brush to tame her hair. It was quite matted, braided to one side. Loose strands flew about as the wind tugged it free.
She looked like a street urchin.
What a strange existence, so different from his. Although there’d been a time once—running away from his pa—when he hadn’t had much more.
From what the young preacher had said though—if the man had been telling the truth—she hadn’t been running away. She was simply poor. Painfully poor.
She couldn’t speak either. Couldn’t write. It seemed unfathomable. Jem couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
And then he saw her turn toward Ray, who appeared to be rambling on quite a bit, talking about who knows what.
Jem caught sight of her face in profile as she listened to Ray. Even from this distance her face was obviously smeared with dirt. She seemed smeared with dirt everywhere, truth be told. Poor thing.
Only...only there was something about her. Something about the curve of her cheek and chin that was surprisingly pleasing to the eye.
Who was she?
Jem noticed then they’d come to the turn that led up Castle Ranch way. From here on out, they’d be traveling across gently rolling hills and fields on the long dirt drive. At this pace, he estimated they’d arrive at the ranch house within the half hour. After all this time—so many days spent traveling—it seemed to sneak up on him all of a sudden.
He thought about seeing Ben. In his mind, his brother-in-law remained the same as when they’d first met: a lanky twelve-year-old, long on enthusiasm and a bit short on the practical, like most boys his age. The Ben of his earliest memories had worked when he needed to, slept as much as his Pa would let him, and he’d followed Jem around like he was some sort of miracle worker. They’d shared a love of horses and pie. Any kind of pie, and as much as they could eat. Ray had often joked he’d need to ship back East for apples and berries because they’d cleared Colorado of all its fruit, he’d made so many pies. Jem and Ben had just laughed at that and passed their plates for more. Ray had grumbled—secretly pleased, Jem thought—and gave them each another slice.
Pie. Blackberry pie.
Jem’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t had near enough to eat lately. He’d lost weight—was down one notch on his belt.
If he looked forward to anything, it was Ray’s food. To be fair, Becky Jessup always cooked up some solid meals, and her biscuits—when they weren’t burnt—were worth fighting for. But Ray... Ray was a master. He could make a stew out of practically nothing and leave you begging for more. And his pies. Delicious.
People would pay good money for Ray’s fare.
Ben was fortunate to have him. With that, Jem’s mind dragged him back to where he’d left off. Ben. He was twenty by last count. A full-grown, man-size rancher. What did he look like now? A younger version of his father?
It was a lot to think about. All Jem wanted at that moment was to get to the ranch. Eat. Sleep. Get Mae settled. These past couple of days on the train, he hadn’t gotten any further along than that.
But now he had Annie to think about too.
What should he do about her? What should he say to Ray? To Ben? It wasn’t the easiest thing to explain—marrying up with her just like that.
His brain simply stopped. There was nothing. No words.
Thinking was tiring him out.
Jem’s gut tensed when they finally rode through the ranch gate and up the long dirt drive. There were no buildings in sight yet. The Castle’s land dipped and rolled in such a way that they’d have to travel some distance before the rooftops came into view. With the afternoon quickly fading and the trees casting shadows on the ground, it was tricky to navigate all the bone-jarring rocks and holes. Craters, more like, Jem thought, as he steered the horses with care around a hole big enough to hide a calf in.
When the main house came into view eventually, it struck him as almost shockingly the same as he remembered. The cedar shingle siding was the same, as was the deeply pitched roof. Most strikingly, it had the same long porch along the front, covered by a tin roof that made the most comforting pinging sound whenever it rained. How many times had he stood on that same porch in the early days, trying to get Lorelei to notice he was alive?
That porch had come to represent Castle Ranch to him in many ways. It was the heart of the property. The place to watch all the comings and goings. Or do nothing at all.
Since the nearest neighbors were a good half-hour ride across open fields, he’d often stood on that porch with Lorelei, and it had felt like they were the only two people on earth.
Still felt like that as he looked around. It was a scene awash with the familiar tones of Colorado Springs: the red clay in the rock outcroppings of the Garden of the Gods, the ash-colored stone faces of Pikes Peak, the greens and golds of the grasses, several vast fenced paddocks, horses grazing, and a sweeping sky, its colors mellowing to purples and pinks with patches of clouds just above the mountain peaks.
He was struck anew by how different the Colorado landscape was from the lush blue-green firs of the Cascades and the waters of Puget Sound. Although, this had a beauty all its own though. The sky above him felt bigger somehow, for one. It was like he had two homes now: Seattle and Colorado.
After they married, he and Lorelei had bought a house in Iowa, where he’d attended university. An opportunity had come up to start a veterinary practice there. With Lorelei’s help, Jem had built it into a successful business, then sold it off after she died. Without her, Iowa hadn’t been home. Coming back here—to this “home”—brought on an uncomfortable ache in Jem’s chest, one he’d been dreading. His insides churned, upsetting the gray flatness of his existence of late.
Four ranch hands Jem didn’t recognize strode from one of the stables to meet them—young men wearing the typical ranch garb of chaps over denims, work shirts, and leather vests. They already had the tanned, hard-bitten faces of men who spent their life outdoors. After Ray introduced the men, two of them took over the reins of Jem’s horses.
“Flora—this chestnut here—is coming up lame, I fear. I’ll be out to see to her just as soon as I see to these ladies,” Jem told them, as he scooped Mae up in his arms. She didn’t stir one bit. Her head just lolled senselessly off the side of his arm. She was missing her first real view of her mother’s home. She’d been here once before as a newborn, but she wouldn’t remember that, of course. They’d meant to come the summer after her first birthday, when the weather was good. But...plans had changed.
With respectful nods, the ranch hands led the horses away.
Jem shook off his memories as Annie drew close to his side, the puppy squirming in her arms. It took him a second to realize this was her first view of the ranch. What must she think of the place? Her chin was ducked so low he couldn’t see her face properly, but she seemed suitably awed, and maybe a little intimidated. He couldn’t blame her—he’d felt much the same his first arrival here. He couldn’t help wondering what kind of home she’d had in Tennessee. The furthest east he’d been was Iowa, but he pictured a Tennessee landscape with green rolling hills and a perfect white church, the kind with a steeple and white wooden cross up top. Wagons and buggies, folks carrying baskets of food for a Sunday picnic. A proper town lining the streets, with houses and stores, a post office, and train depot. Something like that.
He watched as the other two ranch hands lifted the trunks out of the back of the wagon and carried them inside the house. He’d only brought two—one for his and Mae’s clothing and another for household items, anything of their previous life that he hadn’t already given away or shipped ahead.
“What about this box?” Ray asked, patting the last item Jem had brought, a large wood-slat crate that had been hammered shut. Inside, he’d carefully packed Lorelei’s old saddle, which he hadn’t been able to part with, and a collection of reins, bridles, bits, and saddle blankets.
“That’s tack,” Jem said. “Just leave it for now. I’ll drag it up to the barn.”
“No, no,” Ray said. “May as well leave it on the wagon. Going up to the barn anyway. The boys’ll take it from there. Won’t you, boys?” He nodded pointedly to two ranch hands who were eyeing Annie a bit too curiously for Jem’s taste. He hadn’t noticed until now. Evidently, Ray was more aware and was hoping to nip any untoward interest in the bud. Not that she was much to look at—what with that filthy dress she was wearing—but she was a young woman. Best let them know she wasn’t available for courting.
Jem shook his head, realizing with a sense of delayed shock that he was married to her.
Married.
Never in all his wildest dreams would he have thought this morning that he’d ever marry again—let alone today, wi
th a complete stranger. He glanced at Annie standing there. Her eyes met his for one instant, then just as quickly she ducked her chin. Skittish as a fawn. How strange it was to have a woman in his life again. He didn’t quite know how to feel. It was all too new and unexpected. And, if he were honest, not entirely welcome.
As Ray led the way to the front steps, Jem hitched Mae up a notch, making sure she was secure before he took the steps, climbing with a sense of purpose. He realized then that he was looking forward to seeing Ben again. They needed to catch up. They could be friends now—man to man. That would be nice. It felt strange to have something to look forward to after being numb so long.
NINE
Annie stopped at the foot of the porch steps. She couldn’t go in this big beautiful house like this. The ranch house had a certain rustic appeal with its cedar shingles and an enormous stone chimney to one side, but to her eye it still looked like a mansion. She couldn’t drag all her filth inside. She couldn’t.
Somehow she managed to bend down and untie her boots without dropping the puppy. She wriggled out of each boot, wobbling, and left them on the bottom step. For a moment she just stood there, ashamed of her bare feet. A decent woman would be wearing stockings, but hers had worn completely through weeks ago, and so she’d stopped wearing them. The holes had cut into her toes, and she’d figured it was warm enough in summer to go without them. She wished her skirt dragged to the floor to cover her toes, but it didn’t.
She couldn’t have looked worse. A shabby girl.
But then that’s what she’d always been.
Well, not always. Annie brought herself up short, dismayed at the downward turn in her thoughts. Where the thoughts went, soon the spirit would follow. There had been a time, she reminded herself, back when Mrs. Ruskin was alive, when she’d made sure Annie was always properly dressed. Mr. Ruskin would have too if times hadn’t gotten so hard. Annie was sure of that.
The Bartered Bride (The Brides Book 3) Page 7