She glanced at the plain gold band on her ring finger. “Maybe I should drop the fake flirting this time and act like an anxious wife, ready to have the house to myself, claim it like a dog—uh, wait. That metaphor wasn’t going anywhere flattering fast.”
He laughed full out.
Goodness, he was handsome when he was amused. Another reason not to have too much fun with him.
“I’m happy you’re dedicated to making this appear real, but I think once we show them the license, if that’s even necessary, they’ll concede defeat. Unfortunately, they’ve made no travel plans. I don’t exactly want to kick them out though, considering they’re family.”
“I understand—” Oh, wait. “Are … are they staying in the house?”
He nodded solemnly. “I can’t put Lilith and her companion in the bunkhouse with my ranch hands.”
“So that means … we’d…” Suddenly her throat was stiffer than her fingers.
“If they don’t leave tonight, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Her throat relaxed enough to swallow. That wasn’t too bad, him being on the floor.
But she’d be in his bed.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on the pain in her hands. Who knew pain could come in handy for something?
When they traversed the main gate, she could see Matt on the front porch, glaring at them as they drove closer.
She scooted toward Nolan. Not for appearance reasons, but because she had no idea what kind of man Matt was. How would he react?
Nolan’s body tensed. Was he worried marrying her wouldn’t be enough?
Best thing she could do was act happy, which should require no acting at all. What woman in her position wouldn’t be thankful to have a spacious home, freedom from debt, and no worries about surviving tomorrow?
She forced herself to give his cousin a carefree wave. “Good afternoon.”
Matt didn’t reply. He really was quite the ogre.
Nolan called for the horses to stop, climbed down the side of the wagon, and came over to help her. Once she hit the ground, he tried to release her hand, but she held fast despite the pain.
He frowned at their hands clasped together, but then took a deep breath and gently squeezed.
Placing her other hand on her chest, she inhaled deeply, letting the exaggerated movement bring attention to the ring on her finger. “Is Miss Mortimer nearby?”
Matt’s jaw worked as if he were chewing a cud, but then he tilted his head toward the front door, making his muttonchops appear to stick out even farther. “She’s inside.”
“Good. I heard she made a list of improvements we could make to the place. I was hoping to hear her thoughts before you left.”
Matt turned to scowl at Nolan.
He pulled her closer. “My wife and I would love to have you stay for supper.”
“Stay?”
“Oh.” Nolan shrugged nonchalantly. “I figured you’d spend the night at the hotel, since you’re likely leaving tomorrow.”
Matt shook his head, his jaw crooked out. “We’ll leave tomorrow, yes, but the hotel is too crude and cramped for Lilith. Your guest rooms barely suffice.”
“I apologize. I suppose.” Nolan’s voice took on a hard edge.
Jiggling his arm, Corrine encouraged him to relax. Matt could claim the house wasn’t worthy of stray dogs, but that didn’t mean he could take it from them.
Matt fixated on their clasped hands. “I guess I should offer you my congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Corinne responded before Nolan could point out how uncongratulatory his tone was.
Matt shrugged then marched inside.
“I’m so sorry to put you through this.” Nolan fidgeted as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to follow his cousin into his own home.
“It’s temporary, right? Could be worse.”
He nodded and led her into the house.
At the kitchen table, the women were drinking tea. Lilith didn’t even turn to greet them.
Miss Flower fidgeted and kept glancing between her, Nolan, and something nonexistent by the door.
Extricating her hand from Nolan’s, Corinne stepped forward. When neither lady made a move to acknowledge her presence, she hesitated. She ought to treat them as her guests, but they knew where the teacups were and she didn’t.
After throwing back her shoulders, she strode straight to the table and sat beside them. Whether she knew where the dishes were or not, they were her dishes more than they were theirs. It seemed Lilith needed the reminder. “Good afternoon, ladies. How was your morning? Are you enjoying your tea?”
Lilith gave her a short nod, and Miss Flower nearly flipped her saucer while setting down her cup.
“Thank you for asking, Miss Stillwater. Lilith makes the best tea.” Miss Flower glanced at Corinne, then stared back down into her milk-laden drink.
“It’s Mrs. Key now.” Trying to hide her nervousness, Corinne pulled the tea service to her side of the table. She’d serve the tea.
“Would you like a cup, hon?” Rising, she cast a wide-eyed glance toward Nolan. Would he save her from looking like a fool by somehow indicating which cupboard held the teacups?
But he seemed intent on glaring at the back of Lilith’s head.
“Hon?”
Nolan didn’t respond.
Corinne huffed. “Nolan?”
He shook his head as if waking from sleep. “What?”
“I asked if you would like tea.”
“Oh, you were talking to me?”
“Yes, honey … pudding … pie.”
Nolan’s mouth pinched in an attempt to keep from laughing. At least he was done glaring a hole in their guest’s head. “I’d take a cup, yes.”
“Then…” She widened her eyes again and tilted her head toward the cupboard. “Any particular cup you’d like?”
He shrugged as if he couldn’t care less, but then with a jolt, he seemed to figure out what she needed and crossed the room. “Oh, it doesn’t matter, but I’ll pick one.”
“Good.” She turned her back to the women and let out a sigh.
After opening a cupboard to his right, he handed her two cups. “Do you want tea, Matt?”
“No, thank you.” The man stood in the shadows by the cookstove. “May I have a word with you?”
“Sure.” Nolan placed a quick, awkward kiss against her temple before following Matt down the hall.
With a prayer for success, she opened the drawer to her right and nearly melted to see silverware inside. She selected a teaspoon and returned to the table.
“How was the wedding?” Miss Flower asked. When Lilith shot her a glare, the wilting woman actually shrugged her off and turned to face Corinne. “It’s a lovely day for a wedding. Not too hot.”
“Yes, the rain last night was welcome. Were you comfortable here in the … our guest rooms?”
“Your rooms leave much to be desired.” Lilith picked up her tea and took a sip, glaring over the top of her cup as if she’d delivered a death blow.
“Oh?” Corinne straightened and forced herself to look directly into her future in-law’s eyes, though she’d never be able to match Lilith’s ability to look down on a person even when she was in truth looking up.
Better to heap coals of kindness on her head than try to play her game. “What exactly are your complaints, so we might—?”
“You can’t do anything about their abominably small size, but the mattresses are old, musty even. You could try airing them out more often. I’d discard them and buy new. Miss Flower’s washstand bowl has a chip in it, and a few of the sheets have stains. I’m supposing that’s your fault, since he takes his laundry to you.”
Oh, this woman was going to make maintaining good manners hard. How likely were those stains nothing more than faded smudges? “I’m sorry, but I believe none of the household laundry was ever brought to me. Perhaps it would’ve been better to ask, rather than assume.”
Lilith huffed, shoved her teacup away, and somehow, with
both grace and haughtiness, exited the room.
The moment Lilith disappeared from view, Miss Flower turned, her shoulders nearly up to her ears, as if preparing for an anticipated beating. “I’m sorry about that, Mrs. Key. Congratulations on your good fortune. Your Mr. Key is a good man.”
“Thanks.” Corinne might’ve said more, but her voice had barely worked for that one word.
Miss Flower slipped out of her chair and trailed after Lilith.
Closing her eyes, Corinne cupped her hands around her teacup, hoping the heat might relieve the ache in her fingers.
A cold hand slid onto her shoulder and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Nolan leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I’m afraid they’re staying the night. I’ll take your bags to my room.”
She nodded and listened to his footsteps receding behind her.
Was it strange that her stomach flip-flopped more over the thought of spending the rest of the day in Lilith’s presence than a night with a man she hardly knew?
Chapter Sixteen
Lilith’s tea was indeed good, but not good enough to be drinking a fourth cup. Nolan poured himself another anyway.
The crickets had started their nightly chorus, and the candle was about to splutter out. Nolan leaned back against his parlor chair, taking a covert glance at his cousin, hoping for some indication the man would turn in soon.
He looked quite engrossed in the paper, not one sign of weariness upon his face.
Which was no surprise since his cousin hadn’t helped him unload Corinne’s possessions or do the evening chores with the men. The moment Corinne had arrived, Matt had decided to take a holiday.
During dinner, the tension between Lilith and Corinne had been palpable. The entire night remained stressful until the women retired. It was as if the air Lilith exhaled spread out like a heavy blanket, trying to squash them all down to the level she believed they ought to be. Poor Miss Flower had barely been capable of sitting up straight in her chair.
Why Lilith hadn’t dragged Matt to the hotel was beyond him.
The rustle of Matt folding his paper nearly made Nolan’s heart jolt. Once Matt retired, it’d be time for him to do so as well.
“Why didn’t you tell me in your telegram you were marrying? You asked me if I was willing to give up my claim to the ranch, but why bother if you were getting married?”
Nolan tried not to let the question fluster him. “I hadn’t asked her yet.”
Matt simply stared at him.
“I didn’t want a wedding to be forced by a timetable set up in a will.”
“You were always so adamant you’d not marry. Hasn’t your complaint about me always been I don’t follow through with my word? That I don’t say what I mean, or do what I say? Why did you change your mind suddenly? Just to deprive me of the ranch?”
“I never promised anyone I’d stay single,” Nolan gritted through clenched teeth. “Convictions change.”
Why was he being chastised about taking something from Matt when his cousin had been born with more assets than Nolan currently possessed?
“What do you even know about this woman? I hear she showed up out of nowhere two years ago. Everyone I asked was surprised to learn you two were getting married. A few men told me how adamantly she’d turned down their suit. A couple of them were well-to-do. All of them had their limbs. Are you sure she isn’t going to poison you in your sleep and claim the ranch for herself?”
“First off, that’s preposterous. Second, if she did kill me, she’d at least run this ranch better than you.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Besides, I could ask the same of you. How well do you know Lilith?”
“I’ve known her long enough to know she’d not kill me for my property.”
“I’d say the same of Corinne. Stop grasping at straws and accept that the ranch is, and always will be, mine.”
Matt spent a few seconds staring at him, but then shrugged and set his paper aside. “I suppose I should wish you well.”
“Yes, that’s what you should do.”
Matt smoothed his muttonchops with a hand down his face. “I’m not sure I can though, considering I have no idea why you’re still down here on your wedding night.”
Nolan gave him a granite glare. “Having overnight guests puts a damper on things.”
“I suppose there’s no reason for me to ever return for a visit?”
Nolan wanted to be the type of person who loved his blood relations enough to ask them to visit whenever they liked, but what was the point? “As family, you’re welcome if you have a strong desire to visit, but don’t you think sharing news through letters would be enough for us?”
Especially if Matt’s future wife was going to treat Corinne as if she wasn’t worthy of breathing the same air.
Matt drummed his fingers on his armrest. Was the man truly without words? That’d be a first.
Though he had hoped Matt would cease coming to the ranch one day, it didn’t bring him as much joy as he’d expected. Making someone feel unwanted wasn’t something to revel in. He’d dealt with such feelings plenty after losing his leg. He didn’t wish it on anyone.
“We’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.” Matt pushed himself out of his seat and walked out. “Goodnight.”
Nolan forced himself not to call his cousin back to smooth things over. It was best for both ladies, if not themselves, for this to be the end.
After Matt’s footsteps faded, the tree branch scratching against the window grew noisier in the silence. Nolan picked up the pillows, straightened the newspapers, wound the clock.
Eleven twenty-eight.
Corinne ought to have had plenty of time to get changed, burrow under the covers, and fall asleep by now. Staying out of the room until she was solidly ensconced in dreams had been the only privacy he could offer her with their unwanted guests still here.
As quietly as a man on a wooden leg could climb stairs, Nolan inched his way upward, checking for light under each doorway as he passed. Matt was the only one burning a lamp. Good.
Wishing he’d thought to grease his hinges, he gingerly opened his bedroom door.
No light, but she wasn’t asleep. Muffled sniffling sounded from the bed.
How long had she been crying? A weeping bride was not the best thing to have in the house if they wanted Matt to believe this marriage would be long-lasting.
After clicking the door shut, he let his eyes adjust. On the bed, Corinne was lying atop the quilt, still dressed in what she’d worn that afternoon. How many hours had it been since she’d come up?
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Do you need more time to get ready?”
“An eternity maybe,” she whispered.
His heart seized. Was she that overwrought having to sleep in here with him? Perhaps they should be the ones to go to the hotel, not that they could have separate rooms there either.
She scooted up in a funny inch-by-inch wriggle until she reclined against the headboard. “What if the doctor’s wrong?”
“The doctor?” He took a step closer.
“What if they don’t get better?” She tucked her hands up against her chest.
He felt an urge to cradle and comfort her, but what good would that do? “Have you taken any medicine?”
She nodded, emitting a sound that was a cross between a hiccup and a sigh. “I’ve done no laundry today, yet my fingers hurt too much to undo my buttons.”
“Did you forget you picked up more stuff than you should have?”
“He only said I had to differentiate activity.”
“Likely after your hands got better.”
She moaned. “We only packed for a few hours. It’s the least amount of work I’ve done in a day for an entire year.”
“Shhh, shhh, shhh.” He couldn’t help but cross over to her now. He perched awkwardly on the mattress’s edge and cupped her face. He didn’t want her to turn hysterical. Less because others might hear
, and more because the cracks in her voice were stabbing his heart. “They’ll get better.”
“But I’ve rested them all afternoon and evening and—and they’re not.” Her voice had softened into an emotion-laden whisper. “What if I’m always in pain? I’m too young to always be in pain.”
Knowing how devastating it was to face decades of pain in one’s future, he smiled sadly. “What did you take to alleviate it?”
“The medicine Doc’s given me, as much as allowed.”
“What about whiskey?”
“No!”
He startled. “I’m sorry, I—”
“No, I’m sorry. I never touch the stuff. You don’t drink, do you?” Her eyes widened as if she just realized a wild animal had her cornered.
He rubbed her arm. “It’s only in the house for medicinal purposes.”
“And you’re in pain how often?”
He couldn’t help his chuckle. “All the time, but whiskey’s only for emergencies.”
“Oh.” She leaned back against the headboard. But then her breath sucked in sharply again.
“You sure about the whiskey? What about a small glass?”
She shook her head.
“What if I help you…?” Surely he couldn’t offer to help her undress. “Would you like me to take off your boots?”
A muffled moan escaped her, but by the sound of it, she’d agreed.
“All right.” He stood and frowned at them. Those buttons were awfully tiny, but she’d gotten a few undone. Hadn’t his mother had some sort of contraption for this?
She pointed behind him. “The hook’s on the nightstand.”
He turned to find what he might’ve mistaken for something women used for needlework. He snatched it up and moved to the end of the bed. Gingerly, he sat down, then lifted her right foot onto his lap. “I apologize ahead of time for how terribly this might go. I’m afraid I’ve never had reason to practice this skill.”
“A good thing,” she whispered with a hint of amusement.
Seemed the pain hadn’t sunk her all the way into despair. He wriggled the hook under the loop and pulled, slipping the leather over the tiny button. Not so hard after all. He did a line of them in quick succession.
“Are you sure you’ve not done this before?”
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