Whispering Pines

by Scarlett Dunn

  Morgan threw his hands in the air. The woman was infuriating. “Of all the harebrained comments.” He leaned over, placing his palms on the arms of her chair, his nose just inches from hers. “I stopped because I wanted you. I stopped because in another second we would have been in your bed. I stopped because I respect you. I stopped because I thought you were a lady. I stopped because Granny was just down the hall. But most of all, I stopped because I’d like to think I have some character, and I can control my baser instincts.” He wasn’t about to admit that last night he’d been holding on to his control by a very thin thread.

  Rose blinked. He was angry, very angry. She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t intended to make him angry.

  Morgan scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the door. “But since you are obviously no lady, and didn’t want me to stop my advances, we can take care of that right now.”

  Rose was stunned. “What do you mean?”

  Morgan opened the door, walked through, and kicked it shut with his boot. He walked to the staircase, hesitated as he looked at her, and said, “I mean we are going to do what I wanted to do last night, since you have no objections.”

  “But . . .”

  If he hadn’t been so angry he might have laughed at her stunned expression, but he set her on her feet instead. He started unbuttoning his shirt as he turned to walk up the staircase. When she didn’t move, he turned around. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “But . . .”

  He raised one eyebrow at her. “Well?”

  “I didn’t mean . . . well, I meant . . .” She had no idea how to explain her feelings.

  Morgan unbuttoned his last button, pulled the shirt from his pants, stripped it off, and tossed it on the banister. “I thought you’d be in a hurry since you want me to prove to you that I wasn’t with another woman in Denver.”

  Rose couldn’t have said another word if her life depended on it. When he removed his shirt, her eyes were riveted on his rippling muscles, and she forgot all about their conversation. His bronzed torso was magnificently formed, and her desire to touch him was almost overwhelming. She couldn’t imagine another man on earth as handsome as the one in front of her.

  Morgan leaned over her and stared into her eyes. “You know I can’t control myself, so you should hurry and get that dress off before I rip it off.” His hand moved to the top button on her dress.

  She slapped his hand away. “I didn’t mean you couldn’t control yourself!”

  “Really? Well, what exactly did you mean?”

  Rose backed away to put a few feet between them. “I just saw how those women looked at you.” Her eyes were fixed on his broad shoulders and bare chest, and she almost lost her train of thought again. “Then, when we were . . . well, last night after you stopped . . . well, you suddenly mentioned a trip to Denver. I thought it was possible you were going to see another woman.”

  Morgan grabbed his shirt and shoved his arms through the sleeves. “Yeah. You said that.” He was reading between the lines. She didn’t trust him. That was the bottom line. Since he didn’t finish what he started last night, she thought he had a backup woman waiting. He distinctly remembered asking her if she trusted him before he’d asked her to marry him. She just confirmed she believed all the lies Frank had told her about him. “The way I see it, Rose, you think I’m as lacking in character as your brother. Maybe I should live up to your expectations.” That being said, he walked out the door and slammed it behind him.

  Morgan stalked to the stable, saddled Faithful and slowly rode toward town. He thought of the women he’d spent time with over the past few years. He knew he would be welcomed if he stopped at any of their homes. Maybe he should go visit one of them, since that was what Rose expected him to do. He didn’t question whether he could spend the night with another woman; he knew he could.

  He couldn’t keep from asking himself what would have happened if she hadn’t slapped his hands away from her buttons. What if she’d allowed him to remove her dress? She was making him crazy. He didn’t stop until Faithful was in front of the saloon. Morgan wasn’t one to visit the saloon often, but he didn’t care tonight. He needed a stiff drink.

  Morgan sat in the corner of the saloon, sipping whiskey. Once he calmed down, he tried to think through his conversation with Rose. He couldn’t figure out another way to show her that he deserved her trust. To him, trust was the very foundation for a good marriage. Perhaps it wasn’t enough.

  One thing was certain: He wasn’t going home tonight. He looked around at the gals in the saloon. He could always spend the night here in one of their rooms. If he wanted company, it wouldn’t be difficult to come by. He finished his drink, walked out the door, untied Faithful, and headed to the livery. He was tired, and he was determined he wasn’t going to ride all the way back home tonight. He’d sleep at the hotel, and let Rose think what she wanted.

  * * *

  Rose left her bedroom door cracked open, waiting to hear when Morgan returned. She’d gotten out of bed at least a dozen times to look out the window to see if there was a light coming from the stable. He hadn’t returned. It hadn’t been her intention to insult him, or to imply that she didn’t trust him. At first, she couldn’t understand why he’d jumped to that conclusion. Now that he’d explained why he had stopped his amorous advances, she felt guilty for thinking there was someone else. He respected her, and she’d thrown his good intentions back in his face. He had every reason to be angry with her. She trusted him. It was all of the other women she didn’t trust.

  She may not have wanted him to stop last night, but if he hadn’t she would have been upset that he wasn’t treating her like a lady. She was so confused that she didn’t know what she wanted. She was certain of one thing: She wanted him to come home. Where was he? Had she driven him to another woman’s arms? Loving him was driving her daft. She reminded herself of Preacher’s favorite three words: Love never fails. Problem was, she loved Morgan, but he wasn’t in love with her. He’d made it clear from the start that he was basing their marriage on friendship and trust. Marriage was a sacred union before God, and she felt Morgan would honor his commitment once they married. Problem was, they weren’t married yet.

  * * *

  Walt watched Reuben’s home until the wee hours of the morning before heading back to the little shack. He didn’t have much to report back to Frank yet, so he’d stay another day, but instead of wasting his time while Reuben was at work, he planned to find a more pleasurable way to spend the afternoon. He was due a little fun while he was in Denver. That big, fancy saloon was near the bank, and the perfect place for what he had in mind. He wondered how a man like Reuben could go to work the same time every day, get off at the same time, following the same routine, day in and day out, without allowing himself some pleasant pursuits at night. Walt would go nuts, just like the old woman who’d lived in the house he was occupying. Sometimes a man had a need to get on his horse and take off, or visit the saloon and tie one on. In his estimation, ranch work was a better alternative than living in the city with a bank job. Of course, even if a man had a job in the city, he could always have a little fun at night. But then, Reuben didn’t strike him as the kind of man who would darken the door of a saloon. What did a man like Reuben do for entertainment? Probably had his nose stuck in a book every night. Walt reached for the whiskey bottle he’d placed on one of the shelves. Reuben might not enjoy what Denver had to offer, but he wasn’t about to make the same mistake.

  * * *

  Rose left her bedroom early the next morning to prepare breakfast. When she passed Morgan’s bedroom, the door was open and she noticed his bed covers had not been disturbed. She hoped she might have fallen asleep sometime during the night and didn’t hear him return.

  While she kneaded dough, she kept waiting for him to come walking through the door. She heard footsteps, but when she turned around, it was Granny joining her.

  “You are up early,” Granny said.

  “I
couldn’t sleep.” She turned back to the stove, trying to hide her misery from Granny.

  “Didn’t he come home?” Granny asked.

  Rose was surprised at Granny’s question. “How did you know he wasn’t home?”

  “I heard him leave. I imagine all of heaven heard the front door rattling on its hinges.” Granny figured they’d argued, but she decided not to meddle in their business.

  Rose’s eyes filled with tears. “No, he didn’t come home.”

  Granny hurried across the room and took Rose in her arms. “There, there, honey. He’ll come back soon. This is his ranch.”

  Rose couldn’t help but laugh through her tears. “But he was so angry with me. I made a mess of things.”

  “He won’t stay mad. Just give him time. You two will work everything out.”

  “I’m not so sure. He was very upset. I’m afraid I pushed him into another woman’s arms.”

  “Rose, it would take more than one argument to send him to another. Morgan is not that kind of man.”

  “That’s what he said. He thinks I don’t trust him because I asked him if there was another woman in his life.”

  Granny looked into her eyes. “Don’t you trust him?”

  “He’s never given me a reason not to trust him. But where is he? You saw how those women flirted with him.”

  “Yes, I did. But I also noticed he introduced you to each one of them as his future wife. He certainly didn’t behave like a man trying to hide something. Remember the Good Book says love endures all things.”

  If only Morgan loved her, then perhaps they would survive their argument. “I wanted to know why . . .” She paused. She didn’t know how to tell her grandmother what had provoked their argument. She was angry because Morgan had been a gentleman.

  They heard a horse ride in, and men’s voices outside. Rose ran to the window and looked out. “He’s here.” She watched him as he spoke with Joseph and Murph for a few minutes. Then he led his horse to the stable. When he exited the stable he was riding another horse, and rode away with Murph by his side.

  * * *

  “Where were you all night?” Murph asked. He’d seen Morgan leave the ranch late and not return until morning.

  “At the hotel.”

  Murph knew something was on his mind. “What’s wrong with you this morning?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You and the little woman have a fight?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You better treat her right, or some hombre might take her away from you.”

  Morgan glared at him. “Yeah? I’d like to see him try.”

  “Did you go to the saloon last night? You hungover?”

  “Yeah, I went to the saloon. No, I’m not hungover. I only had one whiskey.”

  “Is that the reason Rose is mad at you?”

  “No, she doesn’t know where I was. But I bet she thinks I was with a woman last night.”

  Murph was beginning to understand the reason for Morgan’s bad mood. “She thinks you are seeing another woman?”

  “Woman, or women. I’m not sure. All I know is she basically said she doesn’t trust me.”

  Murph knew how much Morgan valued trust. It didn’t make sense to him why a woman wouldn’t trust the man he would trust above all others. “Why did she agree to marry you if she doesn’t trust you?”

  The situation was as confusing this morning as it was last night. “Now there’s a question. Beats the heck out of me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Having watched Reuben go back inside the bank after his lunch break, Walt walked into the saloon. He had the entire afternoon to have a little fun. Reaching the bar, he threw some coins down and told the barkeep to leave the bottle of whiskey after he filled his small glass. Walt turned around as he sipped his whiskey and glanced at the three women in the room. One gal was playing cards with four men, and Walt thought she was a real looker for a saloon dove. At the same time Walt was admiring her, she looked up at him and smiled. He was tempted to sit at the table and play poker, but he had to keep an eye on the bank.

  He glanced at the other two gals in the room. They were hustling drinks to three cowboys who didn’t appear interested in anything other than getting drunk. Walt grabbed his bottle and walked to a table near the window. He’d keep an eye on the bank just in case Reuben decided to shake up his routine and do something unexpected. It didn’t take long before one of the women who had been hustling drinks strolled over to his table and asked if she could join him. He was disappointed it wasn’t the pretty one playing cards.

  They had nearly finished off the first bottle of whiskey, and Walt gave the woman money to buy another bottle. He didn’t figure he’d wasted time because he’d questioned the woman about Reuben. She knew Reuben was a bank clerk, but she said he never frequented the saloon. When the woman returned to the table, she convinced Walt they would have more privacy upstairs. Walt didn’t object, and she reached for his hand and led the way upstairs to her room.

  * * *

  Waking up with a start, Walt looked around the room. It took a minute for his whiskey-soaked brain to clear. He realized he’d fallen asleep, and one glance at the woman lying next to him said she was passed out. He looked her over, from her made-up face down to her slippers. Having consumed a good portion of whiskey, she wasn’t nearly as handsome as he’d first thought. He fished out his pocket watch from his pants pocket and snapped open the cover. Dang. It was quitting time for Reuben. He didn’t feel like leaving the comfort of the soft feather mattress, but he had to go. He picked up the bottle on the side table and swallowed the last drop of whiskey. He had just enough time to go to the hotel and order a cup of coffee. If the waitress was right, Reuben would be dining in a few minutes.

  Walt’s first cup of coffee was just beginning to work on his pounding head when Reuben walked through the door. The little man sat at the same table as the day before and ordered the same meal. By his third cup of coffee, Walt wanted nothing more than to go back to the shack and sleep until daylight. He saw no point in following Reuben home again tonight. This was not a man who did anything out of the ordinary. Walt couldn’t imagine leading a more boring existence. When the waitress came by to refill his cup, Walt decided he’d order some pie before he headed out to the cabin.

  The waitress brought his pie, and then stopped at Reuben’s table to collect his money. Reuben stood and picked up his hat from the table, but instead of walking out of the restaurant, he approached Walt’s table and sat in the seat opposite him.

  Walt stared at him. This was certainly an unexpected move from the little mouse of a man. Maybe Reuben did occasionally vary his routine.

  Reuben removed his round glasses and started to clean the lenses with his handkerchief. “I’m thinking either Stevie or Frank Langtry sent you here for some reason. I would venture to guess it was Frank. I think you and I should have a talk.”

  * * *

  Morgan and Murph rode back to the ranch at lunchtime, mostly because Morgan was hungry. When they reined in at the stable, Morgan spotted Rose at the corral. He jumped off his horse and strode toward her. “Stay away from that horse!”

  Rose turned at the sound of his angry voice. “But . . . I was just talking to him.”

  “I said to stay away from him. As long as you are on my ranch, you’ll do as I say with my animals.”

  His tone frightened her, and she stepped away from the corral. “But . . .” She hesitated. Morgan hadn’t even given her the courtesy of an explanation. He turned his back and stalked toward the stable. If he had given her the chance she would have told him why she was with the horse. She’d watched him in the corral alone for over an hour, and she felt sorry for him. She thought the poor thing looked as lonely as she felt, so she sliced an apple to take to him. At a distance he was a beautiful animal; a shiny black coat with four white stockings, and long, flowing black mane and tail. As she approached, she was shocked to see the large animal had large raised sc
ars covering his body. She didn’t know what had happened to him, but he seemed quite tame and docile. When she held her hand out to him he came over and sniffed her. He took the apple from her hand gently, and allowed her to stroke his neck as he ate.

  Confused, she stared at the stable door a minute before turning back to the horse. “Good-bye, I’ll come back again.” She wouldn’t touch him without Morgan’s approval, but she had every intention of asking him why she shouldn’t be around that horse.

  As soon as she walked in the kitchen she started preparing a sandwich for Morgan. When he came through the door a few minutes later, he was silent. He walked to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  “Would you like more than one sandwich?” Rose asked.

  “I can fix my own sandwiches.” He was still angry over last night, and seeing her with his horse opened up old wounds. Wounds that he wore on the inside, not the outside like his horse.

  Rose placed the plate on the table in front of him. “Why can’t I be around that horse? He’s gentle and tame. I’ve been around horses all my life.”

  “Leave it alone, Rose.” Morgan realized he didn’t even know if Rose could ride a horse.

  “Are you going to tell me why you are so angry with me?”

  Morgan wasn’t willing to give an inch. “I think we said enough last night.”

  She’d told herself she wasn’t going to ask, but she found herself asking anyway, “Where were you all night?”

  “Didn’t you assume I would live up to your expectations?” he replied curtly.

  Even though he was angry with her, Rose hadn’t expected that response. “Are you saying you were with a woman?”

  So he wasn’t wrong last night. That was what she was thinking he would do. Morgan jumped up so fast his chair skidded on the wood floor. He grabbed two pieces of bread and slapped a hunk of meat in the center, then picked up the sandwich she’d made and stuffed two apples in his pocket. He walked out the door without saying another word.