Paul nodded and stepped into their bedroom. She followed. He’d meant to get undressed, but now he wasn’t sure if he should. Would she be offended?
She was his wife, he reminded himself. This was her room too. So much to get used to. For both of them.
“You’ve been out with the herd all this time?” Elizabeth asked.
“Chasing the rustlers up into the hills,” Paul replied. “We caught them trying to make off with a couple of young steers.
He took a deep breath and began to unbutton his shirt. He fought the uncomfortable feeling of undressing in front of this strange woman by again reminding himself that Elizabeth was his wife. No point in delaying the inevitable.
Paul’s undressing brought color to Elizabeth’s cheeks again. She turned away from him, clearly embarrassed. For some reason, that irritated Paul.
“You don’t have to do that Elizabeth, we are married after all,” he tried to speak gently, but there was an edge in his tone.
“Our wedding night has been unusual, and we barely know each other. Please excuse me for being a little uneasy,” Elizabeth’s chin tilted up a little as she glanced briefly over her shoulder. “I would prefer it if we took some time to get to know each other first.”
Paul’s irritation faded. The peek over shoulder told him that she wasn’t trying to pick a fight with him, she was genuinely trying to find a way out of the awkwardness.
So unlike Kimberly. Kimberly pouted for days over the most trivial missteps. She would have thrown a tantrum if she’d been left alone on her wedding night. Elizabeth was clearly much more mature than that.
He did his best to smile, although he probably looked more tired than anything. “I don’t want to wait too long. Ma really does want those grandchildren.”
Elizabeth’s lips pressed together into a tight line, and Paul realized that had not been the right way to say it. He was supposed to make her feel desirable, not like she was a duty he had to attend to.
“I’m sorry. I’m not a romantic man. Everything I’ve done has put us off on the wrong foot.”
“I’m a widow. I know better than to expect romance.” She smiled, but the tightness around her eyes remained. “Your mother told me about Kimberly—”
“Love made me a fool for that woman, Elizabeth. You don’t want to be married to a fool, do you?” He did not want to talk about Kimberly. He hated that Elizabeth knew. What did she think of him now? That he was weak?
There would be no fresh start for him.
Chapter Six
“How are my womenfolk doing?”
Elizabeth set her embroidery in her lap as Paul approached the porch. Beside her, Maria studied the half-finished pillow casing she’d been edging. In the sunlight, Maria seemed less pale. They’d been out all morning, and secretly, Elizabeth thought the fresh air might be doing her mother-in-law good.
“I’ve been teaching Elizabeth how to do french knots.”
“I’m abysmal at it, too.” Elizabeth laughed and held up the scrap of hoop-stretched fabric she’d been practicing on. “This was supposed to be a duck.”
“It’s clearly a duck.” Paul grinned. “I saw a cloud shaped like that last week and it quacked at me.”
Elizabeth hooted with delight at his show of support. It was wonderful to see him looking happy. “How am I going to learn if you tell me I’m doing it right when I’m not?”
“If you want to embroider ducks on everything in the house, you go right ahead. See if I care.”
Maria coughed quietly into her hankie.
Paul immediately sobered. “How’re you feeling, Ma?”
Elizabeth stood. “I’ll make some more tea.”
“I’m fine. Both of you, sit down.” Maria leaned back in her chair. “Just my old lungs clearing themselves out.”
But the damage was done—worry had reasserted itself and polite Paul was back. “I’m sending a ranch hand into town. Is there anything you’d like, Elizabeth?”
“I noticed that we’re low on sugar and flour when I was making breakfast.”
“Anything for yourself?”
What did she need besides a way to win him over? “Will we be driving to church this Sunday?”
Paul glanced at his mother, so fast that if Elizabeth hadn’t been paying attention, she would’ve missed it. “I’ve got too much work to do here, but I can ask one of the hands to drive you in. Ma and I usually pray and read the Bible before Sunday breakfast.”
“Then that will be good enough for me.” Although she would have liked to meet some of the women in town, that would have to wait. She understood Paul’s reluctance to leave Maria alone, even for a few hours. The older woman was in good spirits, but weak enough that a slip might seriously hurt her.
“I’m riding out to meet Sheriff Eisley in the west pasture. We’re going to set an ambush for those rustlers. If it all goes well, this’ll be the end of our troubles.”
“When can we expect you to return?” Maria asked, a hint of anxiety etched in her brow.
“That’s up to the robbers, Ma.”
“Do be careful out there.” Maria took hold of Paul’s hand and smiled up at him. Paul returned her smile.
“I always -” His reassurances were cut off by one of the ranch hands skidding to a stop near the bottom step of the porch, red in the face and out of breath.
“Begging your pardon, ma’ams,” he said, glancing at Maria and Elizabeth, “But one of the cows has gone into labor and she’s having some trouble. It doesn’t look good!”
Paul nodded. “Ride out with the others and do whatever Sheriff Eisley tells you. I’ll be there when I can.”
The ranch hand ran off. Paul headed for the barn. Elizabeth looked at Maria, who nodded. “I’ll be fine here, dear.”
Elizabeth picked up her skirts and hurried after Paul. “I can help.”
Paul gave her a skeptical sideways look. “You ever birthed a calf before?”
“I attended a close friend at the birth of her first child.”
“You still want children of your own?”
“More than anything.”
“Then I guess you can handle this.”
She followed him into the barn, where a large cow lay on her side, panting and wild-eyed. Paul’s skepticism was not unreasonable—holding a friend’s hand and encouraging her to be brave wasn’t the same as trying to pull a calf out of a potentially-hostile cow.
But Elizabeth wasn’t giving up. “What do you want me to do?”
“Get me a bucket and a clean cloth.” He pointed.
She rushed to the far end of the barn, where she found a stack of clean rags and a bucket, among other things. When she returned, Paul crouched near the cow’s tail, one hand on her heaving flank to steady her. “Fill the bucket with water. All the way.”
Elizabeth ran outside to the spigot and pumped as fast as she could, but even so, it seemed like hours before the bucket was full. By the time she was done, she was breathing hard and sweating. How long had she been gone? Ten minutes? Fifteen? She hoped she wasn’t too late.
Arms aching from the exertion, she picked the bucket up and walked back inside, doing her best not to slosh water over the rim. Paul still crouched behind the cow, sleeves rolled up almost to his armpits. He brushed something gooey and clingy away from the face of a calf. The mother cow watched.
He held out his hand. “Wet cloth, please.”
She dipped the cloth she’d found earlier in the water, stepped carefully around the mother cow, and handed it to him.
He wiped the calf’s face, focusing on its nostrils. It made a little snuffling sound and tried to stand on wobbly legs.
Elizabeth laughed as the calf took two steps and collapsed. So adorable.
“So nothing was wrong?” she asked.
“Breach. I had to turn it around.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t back in time to help.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Elizabeth blinked. “So all you needed me t
o do was bring you a wet cloth?”
He nodded.
“Then why’d you tell me to fill up the whole bucket?”
Paul pointed to his bare, nicely-muscled arm which, she suddenly noticed, was coated in—oh. She handed him another cloth. He began to wash up.
“So you gave me a child’s errand, to keep me away from the real work,” Elizabeth said.
“You’ve done plenty of real work, and you’ll do plenty more.” Paul began to roll his sleeve back down. “I didn’t marry you because my cows need a midwife.”
“You married me because your mother wants grandchildren.”
“I married you because—” He stopped, swallowed whatever he’d been about to say. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here, and I appreciate it.”
But it did matter to her.
“Pardon me, I need to catch up with my men,” Paul said.
Elizabeth was starting to dislike his politeness. She sighed. “I hope you catch the rustlers.”
“Thank you.”
Elizabeth took her time walking back to the house once Paul and his horse were safely in the distance. She didn’t regret that she’d gotten upset with him—in his frustration, he’d come close to telling her his real reason for wanting to marry. How did he really feel about her?
As she passed the bunkhouse where the ranch hands lived, a light in the window caught her attention. She frowned. All the hands should be helping Paul set up his ambush. How had one of them been so careless as to leave a lamp burning?
She detoured to the bunkhouse and entered the building. “Hello?”
No one seemed to be inside. There was a line of cots along the back wall, all neatly made, and a stack of shelves on the side wall, which seemed to house the hands’ personal effects. She called out again, in case one of the hands had stayed behind.
No answer.
Walking to the last window, she found a candle stub nearly burned out. If she’d left the barn a few minutes later, it would have already been out. But still, it was careless to leave the open flame on the wooden ledge. What if a mouse had knocked it over and set the rough wooden floor on fire?
She pinched the candle out. She’d have to remember to mention it to Paul.
Chapter Seven
Paul maneuvered his horse over the uneven ground, struggling to stay upright. Every step his horse took made the agonizing pain in his shoulder flare. He was flanked closely on either side by Luke and Gabriel, ready to offer him support should his strength fail. As he passed through the gate in front of his house, Paul slumped lower in his saddle. Luke reached out to steady him.
Then he saw Elizabeth running from the front door to greet them.
“What happened?” Elizabeth exclaimed. Her hand flew to her mouth. She must have seen the blood on his shirt.
For a moment, he was embarrassed at being seen in a state of such weakness by his new wife. But a new wave of pain washed over him and erased any shyness. He took a few deep breaths to keep from passing out. Gabriel slowly helped him dismount and follow Elizabeth to the house. Paul tried to focus on the words she was saying, but some of them didn’t make sense.
“Someone needs to fetch the doctor,” Elizabeth said calmly. “Whoever stays, boil me some water.”
“Hank’s already on his way into town,” Luke said.
“I know a little medicine, ma’am. I assisted a doctor in the War.” Gabriel eased Paul down onto the couch. “Water, Luke?”
“Yup.” Luke moved toward the kitchen, becoming a blur in Paul’s quickly-tunneling vision.
“Ma’am, there’s a medical kit in the spare room. When someone’s injured, I do what I can until Doc gets here.”
Paul let his head fall back against the pillow. This next part was going to hurt. A lot. “Do it, Gabriel.”
“What does he mean?” Elizabeth asked, her voice sounding warbly and far away.
“He’s got a bullet in his shoulder. I need to cut it out.”
“I’ll get the kit. You can tell me what to do.”
“You don’t have to—” Gabriel began.
“He’s my husband.” Elizabeth’s tone left no room for argument.
Paul had been treating her like a squeamish woman, trying to save her from the ordeal of seeing a cow give birth, but when it came to helping a ranch hand perform field surgery, she jumped right in.
Kimberly would have fainted. Or pretended to.
How could he have thought he loved Kimberly when there were women like Elizabeth in the world?
Gabriel ripped his shirt away from his wound. Paul grunted and winced as pain shot through his shoulder and down his arm.
Elizabeth’s face appeared in the center of his rapidly-shrinking vision. “We’re going to take care of you, Paul. You’re going to be fine.”
Darkness took him.
Paul woke up in bed, something delightfully cool sweeping across his forehead. He opened his eyes.
Elizabeth perched next to him, on the edge of the bed, holding a damp cloth. “How do you feel?”
He started to take a deep breath. Ow. He settled for a shallow breath instead.
“I’m thirsty. Would you please bring me some water?” Paul asked to distract himself from his pain. Elizabeth rose and departed, returning a few moments later with a tin cup of water.
“Thank you for caring for me and my mother so well, Elizabeth. I’m so grateful to you. God blessed us when he brought you to us.”
Elizabeth’s face bloomed into a smile. She was even more beautiful when she smiled. Paul’s heart sped up and he suddenly found it harder to breathe. Was it her presence, or his wound? He felt an urge to reach out and caress her face, but his arm hurt too much to move it.
They’d been married for two days and he hadn’t yet told her she was beautiful. What was wrong with him?
“Are you feeling better?” Elizabeth asked as she applied the soothing cloth to his neck.
Paul nodded and took a drink of water.
“Mother’s still asleep. I didn’t see the point of waking her only to upset her.”
She wasn’t just beautiful, she was also one of the kindest woman he’d ever known. Elizabeth was a lot like his mother.
“What happened?” she asked as she laid the damp cloth over his forehead and left it there.
“They were expecting our ambush. I don’t know how.” Paul let out a heavy sigh.
Elizabeth pursed her lovely lips. Thinking.
“What is it?” Paul asked.
“Yesterday when I left the barn, I noticed a candle flickering in a window in the bunkhouse. At the time, I thought one of the ranch hands had been careless. But now, I wonder. Do you think it might be a signal?”
Elizabeth bit her lip in that endearing way again, but Paul felt taken aback by what she was suggesting.
“An inside job?” His mind raced. “I've known most of the ranch hands for years. Mike's a family man with a new baby. I grew up with Luke and Gabriel, they’re like brothers to me. The foreman, George, has been my best friend since we were just kids. Bob is saving up for a bride, and Lester depends on what he earns here to take care of his sick father. Heck, I've loaned him money for medicine when he needed it.”
Paul shook his head, unwilling to believe this of any of his men.
“How else would the rustlers have known they were walking into an ambush? Could one of the sheriff’s men be working with them? Or the sheriff himself?”
“Not Sheriff Eisley.” Paul thought about the men who served as Eisley’s deputies. He had a hard time believing that any of them would do such a thing.
But that just brought him back to his own men. His heart felt heavy with sadness at the idea of one of his own men betraying him.
Elizabeth must have seen the discouragement in his face. She removed the cloth, which was no longer cool, from his forehead and tenderly brushed his hair back. Then she drew her hand back and looked shyly down at her lap.
“Well,” Elizabeth said resolutely, raising her eyes to hi
s. “You could move the herd and only tell the ranch hands the new location once you’ve already left the ranch. That way it would be impossible for anyone to send a signal.”
She tilted her head to one side as if to ask what he thought about the idea.
Paul nodded slowly, trying to focus on the plan instead of dwelling on the vision of Elizabeth’s rose petal lips and the soft curve of her neck. He cleared his throat.
“That, Elizabeth, is a wonderful idea.”
Chapter Eight
Elizabeth sat up in bed, waking from a disturbed sleep. Paul wasn’t beside her. Where had he gone? He’d spent all of yesterday in bed, and last night, he’d stayed home, letting Luke and Gabriel take care of his usual duties. Was he feeling well enough to have regained his appetite?
She hurried to put on her wrapper and quietly made her way to the kitchen, being careful not to wake Maria. She ran a hand over her braid, which had started to loosen on one side while she slept. Glancing through the window as she passed through the living room, she saw the sun just beginning to rise over the distant mountains.
When Elizabeth reached the kitchen, she saw Paul sitting at the table, Luke and Gabriel standing nearby. She was pleased to note that her husband didn’t look nearly as pale as he had yesterday.
All three men looked at her as she entered. Self-conscious, she pulled her wrapper tight around her and crossed her arms over her stomach. “Did something happen?”
“You were right,” Paul said. “I had Luke and Gabriel give the other hands a new location for the herd halfway to the north pasture. No rustlers.”
“I’m glad you found out.” She wasn’t happy to be right, though. Paul took good care of his men, and that betrayal must be hurting him almost as much as his shoulder.
She reached for the coffee pot. Might as well get some brewing.
“We’ll set a trap,” Luke said.
“When we catch the rat…” Gabriel didn’t need to finish that sentence, his expression said it all.
“I’ll deal with the traitor,” Paul said.
Oh no, that sounded like he was going to go after the man himself. Injured as he was? She didn't want to spend another long night worrying if he would come home with another bullet in him. Or not come home at all. When she’d seen the blood on his shirt the other night, Elizabeth had realized just how much she’d grown to care for him. Already, she couldn't imagine life without him.
Winning The Rancher's Heart (Mail-Order Brides of Salvation 2) Page 3