She meandered along the bank, ending up under a big oak. There in the shade, the grass had grown thin, and the chuckling water lapped at the bare earth to create a little eddy that formed a mud puddle. This was why she liked coming here. When she was a child, Papa had promised that sticking her toes in the mud could fix nearly any problem—and back then, it pretty much had. Something about it loosened all her bound-up thoughts, and after a while everything seemed better.
She stepped into the puddle and spread her bare toes. Could it work this time? As the goo squished between them, her chest ached.
Papa. I miss you. The ranch just isn’t the same without you here.
She lifted her father’s shirt to her nose and tried to catch a hint of his scent. It was gone.
Forever.
Ash pushed the wheelbarrow full of soiled straw behind the barn, dumped the contents, and paused to wipe away the sweat beading across his forehead.
He was under no illusions. Honor and her hired men had given him the menial tasks, those requiring the least skill or know-how, like mucking stalls. If he was honest with himself, it was probably a good thing. At least for now.
In the weeks since they’d married, Honor had taken him out riding several times to become familiar with the sizeable ranch. Being unaccustomed to the long hours of riding and physical nature of ranch work, his muscles quickly grew sore. He had not complained, though if he read her correctly, Honor had become impatient, more with his lack of knowledge than his obvious discomfort. She’d tried to hide her aggravation, but it hadn’t escaped his notice.
He rolled the wheelbarrow to the front of the barn and stopped short at the sight of a large gray horse. The saddled mount stood in the middle of the yard, no rider in sight. He left the barrow by the barn door and walked into the yard. “Hello?”
A man stepped away from the front door of the house. Warnings clanged in Ash’s brain.
Nate.
“What do you want?” The words flew out of Ash’s mouth unchecked.
“That’s no way to be neighborly.”
“After the threats you made at the courthouse, I’ve no confidence that you will be neighborly. Please leave.”
Nate stepped down from the porch and shrugged. “Just figured to come by and visit my sister and her new husband, but if you want me to go, I’ll go.”
He crossed to the big gray horse and swung into the saddle then reached back and pulled a burlap sack from one of his saddlebags. “By the way, I brought a gift for the happy couple.” He flung the sack across the distance. It hit the ground with a solid thump, only inches from Ash’s foot. Nate spurred his horse and rode away.
From the mouth of the sack, a triangular head emerged, followed by a long slithering body. A warning rattle sounded. Ash’s heart and breathing seized.
Seconds ticked by. He stayed frozen as the rattlesnake coiled and adjusted, tail rattling. The thin black tongue flicked over and over until the reptile dived for the open space beyond Ash and slithered into the lush grass.
Ash watched it until it was out of sight, then wobbled toward the front porch. With a huff, he sank into the nearby chair, heart racing and limbs trembling. It took a couple of moments before his mind engaged in logical thought once more.
Nate had some nerve. If he’d be so bold as to openly try to harm Ash, what things had he done to Honor, and what might he yet try? Thank goodness, she wasn’t there when the rogue threw that bag at him. Ash wouldn’t be quick to forgive if his half brother-in-law endangered his wife.
The rumble of wagon wheels drew his attention, and Ash looked up to see the Donovans approaching.
Mr. Donovan drew the team to a halt in front of him. “Morning. Thought we’d stop by since we didn’t see you at church today.”
Sunday again, already? Somewhere in the past three weeks, he’d lost track of the days. Ash rubbed at the ache developing behind his eyes. He and Honor had yet to make a church service in the weeks since they’d married, and now they’d have to wait another. He shuffled to his feet, knees still soft like warm butter, and stepped off the porch. “Good morning.”
Mr. Donovan glanced around the ranch yard. “Where’s that bride of yours?”
“She rode off up the hill behind the house about an hour ago.” He waved in the path’s direction. “I stayed behind to work on a few chores.”
“Oh, she probably went to the meadow,” Julia chimed in.
Ash looked at her. “The meadow?”
“She hasn’t taken you to the meadow yet?” The young lady’s brows arched.
Ash shook his head slowly. “I don’t believe so, no.”
“Oh … it’s, well … she’s quite partial to that spot. Stay on that path and you’ll run right into it.”
“Thank you.”
Mrs. Donovan grinned at him. “Has she mentioned that her birthday is Wednesday?”
Her birthday. “No, ma’am.”
“It’s been our tradition to invite Honor and her father, as well as Teagan’s brother Cody and his family, and Reverend Pritchard and family over for dinner on her birthday. We don’t want to impose, but if you’d like, the offer stands.”
“We accept. I look forward to meeting everyone.”
“Believe me, folks are anxious to meet the man who claimed Honor’s heart.”
He hung his head. If only it were true.…
Mr. Donovan set the wagon’s brake and turned to his wife. “I’ll be back in a moment.” The man swung down and motioned for Ash to follow. He was silent until they reached the barn.
“You all right, son? You’re lookin’ a little peaked.”
Better that his bride’s friend didn’t think him weak or ill-equipped for the life he’d chosen with Honor. Ash smiled. “I’m fine, thank you for asking.”
Mr. Donovan turned a wry grin on him. “You want to put all those Eastern pleasantries aside and tell me what’s going on? You look pale as a ghost.” His voice filled with concern.
Ash chuckled. Mr. Donovan might not have the polish of an Easterner, but he was nobody’s fool. “Nate just paid us a call. I asked him to leave, and before he did, he tossed a sack containing a live rattlesnake at my feet. He said it was a wedding gift.”
Mr. Donovan’s expression turned grim. “Didn’t get bit, did you?”
Ash shook his head. “It certainly made my heart pound, though.” He shrugged. “I’m just glad Honor wasn’t here when it happened.”
“Agreed.”
Ash folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Can I ask you something about Honor?”
“Reckon you can.”
He stared at the barn floor. “I don’t mean to be indelicate, sir, but is there a reason she’s so averse to wearing the types of attire befitting a lady?”
A humorless chuckle spilled from Mr. Donovan’s lips. “There’s something you should understand about your wife, Ashton.”
“Sir, I prefer Ash.”
“Then call me Teagan.” He folded his arms. “Honor’s mama died when she was just a little thing. Three, maybe four. Her papa raised her by himself. When she was just a wee thing, her papa would put her in the saddle in front of him while he was working. As she got older, she’d go to school during the day then rush home to work alongside her papa and the vaqueros until sundown. Every year, Ellie made her two dresses for school and church. The rest of the time, she wore Nate’s hand-me-downs.”
Honor had told him that her father raised her alone, though it hadn’t occurred to him just how immersed in ranch life she’d become as a result.
“You need to understand,” Teagan continued, “she’s been raised in a man’s world, doing a man’s chores. Her father loved her dearly, but he never paid much mind to the fact that she was a young lady. Don’t reckon he knew how to nurture that in her. She may never fit with your high-society friends, but she’s got a good heart, and if you pray and you’re willing to work at it, I’m betting you’ll discover there’s a lady hiding deep inside her, wanting to be found.”
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Chapter 5
At the sound of hoofbeats, Honor turned toward the trail from the ranch house. Her brow furrowed. Ash? Not that she was trying to hide, but … how had he found her? She swallowed the lump of emotion that often accompanied memories of Papa, then dabbed her eyes to remove any telltale signs of tears.
Ash eased back on the reins and stared, his gaze traveling from her head to her muddrenched toes. A bemused grin crossed his face. “What on earth are you doing?”
She shrugged. “I come up here to think.”
Saddle leather creaked as he dismounted. He approached and looked down at her feet. “You’re thinking … in mud.”
“That’d be about the size of it.” She wiggled her toes. “You sound surprised.”
“Shouldn’t I be?”
“You ever tried it?”
Ash guffawed. “No. Ashton Junior’s children were never allowed near mud.”
Her jaw went slack. A man who’d never played in mud … she’d never heard of such a thing. What had his childhood consisted of, if not getting dirty in work and play? “Come try it. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Again, he laughed. “I can think just fine without making a mess.”
She took a long look at him. His work clothes still bore the creases they came with from the seamstress’s shop. While they were a bit dusty, they weren’t soiled. Not in the way Papa’s clothes—or hers—got when they’d been working hard. Could it be that Ash didn’t know how to get dirty? Hard to believe, but sometimes the truth of things took a strange turn.
“C’mon. It’s fun.”
Her husband shook his head, smiling as if she were daft. “I thought you’d want to know the Donovans came by a bit ago.”
“Are they still down there?”
“They went home, but when Julia heard you’d left, she said you had a special place up here.” He turned to look around the sprawling meadow. “I can see why. It’s quite beautiful.”
Yes, it was.…
While his back was turned, Honor bent and scooped a small handful of mud and molded it into a ball. “Ash, would you help me a minute? I need to clean up in the creek, but I don’t want to slip.”
“Of course.” He hurried to her and offered his hand.
“Thank you.” With a sweet smile, she slid her hand into his and squeezed. Mud oozed between their fingers
Ash’s eyes widened, and he yanked away.
Honor held back a chuckle. How would he react? He stared at his dirty hand, and she bit her lip. Was he angry? She’d meant it only in fun.… “Ash, I’m sor—”
His brown eyes met hers. A wicked grin sprouted on his lips as he reached over—and smeared the mud across her cheek and down her neck.
She cackled and stretched one mud-laden finger out to fill that annoying cleft in his chin. He twisted away, smearing the mud across his jawline instead. Honor snatched another handful as he ducked and raced several steps out of her reach.
They darted around the meadow, Ash ducking and weaving every time she got close. He sprinted back to the mud, grabbed a handful, and held it as if ready to lob it at her. Honor squealed and darted behind another tree.
Footsteps whispered in the grass. Her back pressed to the trunk, she waited. She attempted to quiet her breathing as the whispering footsteps ceased. She twisted to her left and peeked from behind the tree—not there—then looked right. They were nose to nose. She gasped.
Ash caught her wrist and held up the mud ball with a devilish smile. “Do you yield?”
She matched his grin and smeared muck across his chin. “Never.”
Eyes narrowed, he looped his hand around the back of her neck, grinding the sludge into her skin.
His thumb brushed against her cheek, lingering there. Their eyes met and held, and his expression softened. A second passed before he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the mud away from his lips. He bent.
Honor’s eyes closed, and she held her breath as his lips touched hers softly, sweetly. Her lips parted of their own accord. A stuttering little sigh escaped as he shifted closer. Her arms circled around him. Suddenly dizzy, she twisted her chin down and away as she melted in his arms, her head resting against him.
Ash held her, his hands shifting to her rib cage. “Are you all right?”
She blinked and closed her eyes again.
“Honor?”
“Do that again.…” The words were a breathy whisper.
“The last time you dared me to do something again, I got my foot stomped.”
Honor smiled. “This wasn’t a dare. It was a request.”
A throaty chuckle escaped him, and he pushed away just enough to peer into her eyes. “Are you sure?”
With a shaky smile, Honor nodded.
The timorous look in her astonishingly blue eyes sent Ash’s heart into a gallop. He grinned and leaned in. This time, she met him halfway. With her arms still circling his body, Ash drank in the feel of her. Soft. Warm. Perfect.
All woman. His bride.
He settled her back against the tree trunk, and his hands skimmed her sides toward the curve of her hips as he deepened the kiss.
Honor tensed and pushed him away. Eyes huge, she took a big step sideways.
“What’s wrong?”
“I … I’m not ready for …” She straightened her shirt, eyes averted.
“You’re not ready to kiss me?” Ash arched a brow. “You just did, and you asked me to do it again.”
Even the mud caked from her hairline to shirt collar couldn’t hide the flush brightening her face. “I don’t mean that part.” Her voice dropped to a hushed tone, and she shot him a sheepish gaze. “I kind of liked that.”
Well, that was a start.
“Then—?”
“I’m not ready for where that can lead.”
Ahh. His shoulders slumped. Just when they were making progress, she put up another wall. “Honor, we’ve lived under the same roof for several weeks. Have I not been a gentleman thus far?”
She nodded. “You have.”
“Why would you think that would change?”
“I’m your wife. Was I wrong to assume you’d expect …”
Ash closed his eyes, memories of his parents flashing through his mind. “We are husband and wife, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope for more.” He looked at her. “But I won’t force you where you’re not ready to go. I want both of our hearts to be in it when we cross that line.” He wouldn’t allow himself to become like his father.
She looked away but let out a breath. “Thank you.”
He pulled her into his arms again and settled his cheek against her temple. “What do you say we head home and get cleaned up. Or were you in need of more thinking time in the mud?”
She chuckled. “I’ve had enough mud for now.”
They washed up in the creek, though neither of them got truly clean. After Honor put on her socks and boots, Ash helped her into the saddle and mounted up as well.
“Nate stopped by.” Ash made the announcement as Honor led the way down the narrow path toward home.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Oh?”
“I’d just finished with the stalls and found him on the front porch. He brought us a wedding gift.”
Without stopping her horse, she twisted in the saddle to stare at him. “That doesn’t sound like Nate.”
He locked eyes with her. “It was a live rattlesnake in a flour sack.”
She spun her mount to face him. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”
“No.” Scared. But he wasn’t ready to admit that to his bride. “I was very glad you weren’t around for that episode.”
“Nate should be glad I wasn’t around.…” Though she mumbled, her words were plenty clear. “I’m glad he didn’t hurt you.”
“Thank you.” He took another good look at her and stifled a chuckle. She was a mess.
A truly beautiful one.
Honor headed down the path
again, and as they continued in quiet conversation, his thoughts rattled between Nate’s visit, their muddy encounter, and their kisses. When the path widened out toward the bottom, he urged his mount forward and came alongside her.
“I had fun with you, Honor Cahill.”
An impish sparkle lit her eyes. “That’s Honor Rutherford to you.”
He snorted. “Why, yes it is.”
They laughed as they rounded the barn into the yard. Both drew to a halt at the sight of an empty carriage standing near the house.
“Ash!” Familiar squeals split the air as his younger sisters, Eliza and Lucy, bolted from the porch. Behind them, Mother stepped down, her eyes wide. And behind her, stoic and scowling as usual, sat Father.
Chapter 6
Who are these people?” Honor looked at Ash, who’d gone rigid as a fence post.
“My family.”
Her stomach flip-flopped. “But I’m not ready for visitors.” Least of all them. Mud coated her shirt and her neck, having dripped between her shoulder blades and adhered the fabric to her skin. She must look a fright.
Lord, You’re punishing me, aren’t You? If they’d gone to church that morning, they’d be arriving home in their Sunday finery to prepare the noon meal. Instead, both she and Ash were covered in sludge, with their recent fun a distant memory.
“I’m sorry. I should have expected this. I’ll handle it.” He nudged his horse into motion.
A shiver raced through her. She urged her horse forward, following Ash. “That was rude of me. They’re your family.” But this was hardly how she wanted to meet her in-laws.
Her eyes flashed to the flour sack on the ground then to her guests. The two young ladies, dressed in fancy, bustled traveling dresses, grinned and clapped, though their excitement waned the nearer she and Ash came. When Ash dismounted, his mother dragged the girls back by their elbows, as if protecting them from some vile evil.
The man on the porch stepped out of the shadows. His suit, made from fine material in what looked like the latest style, was just like the one Ash wore on their wedding day. His posture and expression bespoke disapproval. “Ashton.”
The Convenient Bride Collection: 9 Romances Grow from Marriage Partnerships Formed Out of Necessity Page 41