by Reece Butler
Damn shame she was Smythe’s housekeeper, and stood up for the crook. Otherwise, they would’ve courted her when she returned to town. It burned his britches to think Cole Taylor and the Sweetwater Ranch might end up with her as their wife. But they didn’t have a history with Smythe.
Jed suddenly realized who the second man was. He remembered Judge Thatcher from the previous year. Fin MacDougal Junior. came up from Texas, chasing Jessie Elliott and eager to cause trouble. He brought the judge from Helena to rule against the legitimacy of his half brothers. He wanted to take control of the MD Connected and sell it, throwing Gillis, Ross, and Nevin off the land. But Beth Elliott found the wedding certificate proving Finan Senior. had married Sunbird, Ross and Nevin’s mother. That meant Ross’s three-month-old twin sons would inherit the ranch, rather than Fin. The judge stayed a few days afterwards, which they now realized was to get reacquainted with Miss Lily. Their wedding was planned for a couple of weeks.
Everyone agreed the judge was fair and honest, and he didn’t stint with the whiskey when he poured. But why was he here on the J Bar C? Both the sheriff and judge looked solemn, but that seemed to be a lawman’s usual expression.
“Morning,” called Jed. “You didn’t have to come all this way, Judge. We’re law-abiding men, and we’d listen to whatever Sheriff Barstow said.”
“That’s what I’ve heard,” said the judge. “But I’m not here just for this. Barstow’s taking me to the MacDougals to see the deed to the ranch Sunbird brought back from Texas. That’s the last bit of business to wrap up before I retire.” He dismounted and held out his hand. “Good-size home you’ve got.”
Jed returned the strong grip. “We had a lot of free time since we didn’t have cattle. We wanted to have a cabin ready for a wife, when we found one.”
“And how is she?” asked Barstow.
“Victoria? Other than a damn good cook and housekeeper, she’s a pain in the—”
He saw the front door open from the corner of his eye. Victoria erupted through it like a volcano. She must have been brushing her hair, as it streamed behind her as she ran. In the sun it looked thick and rich, like caramel. As he figured, it fell all the way to her ass. She stopped in front of their guests and gave them a wide smile. With pink in her cheeks, her chest heaving from her run, and no scowl, she was a beautiful woman.
His cock rose, as it did whenever he smelled her scent. He swallowed and turned away, cursing under his breath. Barstow’s moustache twitched. A good lawman noticed things, so it wasn’t surprising he saw Jed’s typical male reaction.
“Morning, Miss Edison,” said Barstow. “This is Judge Thatcher.”
“Sheriff, Judge,” she said, nodding at each. “I just took some pies out of the oven. Would you like a piece with a cup of coffee before we return to town?”
“Appreciate the pie and coffee, ma’am,” said Barstow.
She ushered them inside. Jed followed, with Clint and Riley trailing behind. The cabin smelled like apples, cinnamon, and something that could only come from having a woman around. Even though he and his partners thought the cabin was clean enough, she’d gone after it like the devil yesterday while the sun tried to dry the mud. He had to admit, the place sparkled.
They ate quietly while she twitched like a bear in a honey tree, eager to get going but knowing she had business to do first.
Barstow sat back and sighed. He wiped the last crumbs from his huge moustache. “My wife won’t ’preciate me saying this, but that pie was grand.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.” She pointed to the back of the cabin. “The crates are right over there, under the stairs. Since you’re both on horseback, Jed can bring them to town in the wagon. I’ll gather my things and be ready to leave.” She stood up and began to undo the apron she’d created out of an old flour bag.
“Not just yet,” said Judge Thatcher.
He was a big man, and his black cloth suit and bushy gray eyebrows made him imposing even while sitting down. Victoria, biting her lip, slunk into her seat. She held her head high but clasped her shaking hands in her lap. Jed didn’t have to know her well to see she was nervous, but hiding it.
Thatcher pushed his empty plate away, nodding his thanks. “From what I’ve been able to find out, Mr. Smythe purchased cattle from the J Bar C about a year ago. They shook hands on a price. Smythe only paid part of it, promising to send the rest in the fall. He was temporarily short on funds and would pay after the cattle went to market. He has not paid, nor has he made other arrangements. Is this correct?”
“Yes, sir,” said Clint.
“We’ve talked this over with the town council. Because of the storm, Mayor Rivers couldn’t attend.”
“Gosh, darn,” said Riley. His wide grin didn’t match his words.
Thatcher cleared his throat at the interruption. “The council ruled that you’re to get your cattle back immediately. The only one who disagreed was Mr. Jennet.”
Victoria opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it again. She looked at her hands, her face almost as white as the flour on the table.
“But, they’re on the mayor’s land. How can we take them back without his hired guns killing us?” Riley grimaced. “That’s why we haven’t gone after them before.”
“You won’t be going after your cattle alone,” said Thatcher. “The Tanner’s Ford town council will be in charge. Rivers won’t try anything when the entire council, and men from every ranch in the valley, ride in, round them up, and drive them right down the main street of town.”
Jed hadn’t realized how heavy a weight he’d carried until it was gone. He breathed in, to the bottom of his lungs. Right from the start he’d felt shame that they believed someone like Smythe would abide by a handshake. It meant they’d lost a whole year when they could have had cattle grazing on their land, fattening up for the fall market. They’d planned to take Smythe’s money and buy longhorns from Texas. Even if they were paid in full tomorrow, it was too late for this year. At least they’d be able to talk with the men bringing cattle up for Walt Chamberlain. Walt said they were due at the Running W, just to the east, by the end of summer.
Barstow fought a smile and lost. “Most of the council will be bouncing in a wagon and not forking a horse. The ranchers will be rounding up all the cattle.”
“We appreciate the help,” said Clint.
Barstow waved the comment away. “The other week you helped with their spring gather, so they’re glad to pay you back. The council will be on the lookout for more than cattle. There’s lots of rumors of, ah”—he glanced at Victoria and cleared his throat—“shenanigans. So keep your eyes open for whatever don’t seem right.”
The sheriff turned to Clint.
“Trace Elliott said to give the cattle a day or so to settle. Then you’ll have lots of help branding anything without a J Bar C brand. They’re interested in what other brands might turn up.”
Jed wouldn’t be surprised if Smythe had arranged for some rustling. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t trust the mayor as far as he could throw him.
“When our cattle are on our land, we’ll send Smythe’s crates back to town, along with Miss Edison,” said Clint.
“That might be a week!” Victoria stuck out her jaw at them. “I can’t stay here that long. Since no one knew I was here my reputation is safe, but if I stay any longer—”
“The whole town knows you’ve been at the J Bar C all this time,” said Barstow. “Whole valley, too.”
“What?” Victoria stared at him, clutching the edge of the table with stiff fingers. A flush rose from her collar for a moment before her face turned white.
“If they didn’t hear you yelling at Jed on the main street, they learned about it when we talked over how to solve this difficulty,” said Thatcher. He leaned toward Victoria, who trembled on her chair so much Jed thought she might fall off. “Does that create a complication for you, ma’am? One I could solve?”
“No!”
Victoria shoved back her ch
air and jumped to her feet. Clint reached for her, but she cried out something and pushed his hands away. She rushed out the front door, slamming it behind her.
* * * *
Victoria raced to the privy, the only place she knew they wouldn’t follow, on shaking legs. She opened the door and collapsed on the new seat. She fought hot tears as cold chills racked her body.
Everyone in a hundred miles knew! It didn’t matter the reason she’d stayed in the cabin, or that the men hadn’t touched her. No one would care that she hadn’t put her hands on Jed’s naked chest, slid her fingers down the dark line into his pants, and grasped what she knew was inside. They wouldn’t know how she smoldered all day as they walked around shirtless. How she burned each night, wanting one of them, any one, to come upstairs, lift her nightgown, and relieve her aching need.
No, the townspeople didn’t know that had never happened, but it wouldn’t matter. The whispers would start, followed by quick glances and raised eyebrows. Skirts would be lifted so she didn’t contaminate the ladies by walking past. The wonderful life she’d longed for was over before she could enjoy even one day of respect.
She had no money to leave and escape the shame. Mr. Smythe said he’d pay her the last two thirds he owed after he arrived and inspected his goods. Considering what she just heard, that money might never get into her pocket.
Her mother said Mr. Smythe was well respected and would introduce her to the right people. She should have known not to believe it. Since when had her mother done anything that wasn’t to her own advantage? When Smythe gave her an opportunity to escape, she was so elated she didn’t look too closely at what others might get out of it.
When she finally arrived in Tanner’s Ford she was so tired, so eager to fulfill the contract and get Smythe’s possessions safely to his house, that she hadn’t thought of what she was getting herself into by insisting on accompanying his goods. Her control had snapped. Looking back and being honest with herself, it was the three men who had clouded her thinking. If they’d been like the men who visited her mother, she would have gone inside Smythe’s house and locked the door behind her, and them.
She let her head bang against the wall behind her. When she rolled her head a few hairs, caught between the boards, were yanked. The minor pain brought tears to her eyes. Surely that was the only reason.
By now she would have had Mr. Smythe’s house all settled, dishes in the cupboard and food in the pantry. She’d be free to find other employment, or a decent husband.
Instead, she spent the last three days pretending she had a home where she was treated with respect. She’d let go of all the layers of protection to laugh with Riley, crow when she beat Clint at dominoes, and fight with Jed over anything and nothing. She now knew what she wanted in a husband. But, if everyone knew about her time alone with them, it would destroy any chance of finding a decent man and having a home. One where screams and blows weren’t part of daily life.
One like the home Jed shared with his cousins.
But, if she married Jed, Clint, or even Riley, the physical attraction she felt would destroy her ability to keep in control, especially of herself. Control had allowed her to survive intact all these years. She never showed emotion, or pain. She was invisible, and therefore harmless. It was the only safe way she knew to live.
She could control a quiet man who wished for companionship and children. She would fulfill her wifely duties without feeling a desperate need to have him touch her. She’d have a quiet, orderly home, with children to love.
None of the men of the J Bar C would be controlled by a woman desperate for their touch. When she disagreed, all they would have to do was kiss her or run their fingers lightly over her breasts or bottom, and she would agree to anything. How could she choose which man to spend the rest of her life with? And what would happen with the other two?
One of the things she heard over and over from her mother was that men could not be trusted. They used women for their own purposes, tossed them a few baubles, then walked away without a backward glance. They didn’t do anything for a woman’s comfort, unless it was to gain something.
Jed, Clint, and Riley could overpower her judgment just by taking off their shirts. So now she hid from her need for their touch. In a privy, of all things. A privy with a brand-new seat. The first morning she’d muttered about splinters in the rough boards, not knowing anyone heard. But Jed spent the day making a new seat while she cleaned, Clint worked on some complicated leather bits, and Riley polished the saddles.
The rain had poured down, creating a soothing rhythm. After dinner Jed told her to go upstairs to sleep, that she’d been on a long journey and needed her rest. She’d drifted off to the rumble of their deep voices and the drumming of the rain. Their scents surrounded her, a part of the bedclothes. When she woke, they’d already made supper, even biscuits. Riley was so proud of them that she had two, though she had to dunk them in the soup to make sure she didn’t break a tooth.
No one had ever taken care of her before. She was responsible for everything in her mother’s house. From dawn to dusk, and far into the night, she cleaned, cooked, sewed, and everything else. In return, her mother allowed her to live there while screaming, beating, and humiliating her.
Yet these three men, strangers, had welcomed her into their home as if she belonged. And because of that, her good name was tarnished. She’d been so looking forward to the Tanner’s Ford spring picnic the men spoke of. It would have been the first time she could walk about with her head high. But now everyone would be pointing and staring at her, or worse.
Unless she was married.
That’s what Judge Thatcher meant when he asked if he could solve her “difficulty.” An immediate burst of arousal, of primal need, hit between the legs.
For some reason, all was forgiven a woman if she married, especially if she wed the man responsible for her condition. The wicked part of her wanted to have hugs and kisses, and everything else men and women shared.
Not love, of course. She’d never seen real love, just the fake. Her mother loved like sweet icing of ribbons and flower petals spread over a cake full of bile, resentment, and greed.
To pass the time while they worked, the men told her about the history of Tanner’s Ford. None of the valley women had been wooed by their husbands. They’d been put in a difficult situation, just like herself, had made a choice, and were the better for it.
Beth Elliott was given a few minutes to choose between Trace, a total stranger with a tortured voice, or the town bully. Amelia MacDougal married her sister’s brother-in-law, Nevin, on paper. On arrival she discovered she’d wed Ross, the one known as the MacDougal Devil. Jessie was found in bed with Ace by a brother who came back with seven other relatives ready to shoot someone if there wasn’t a wedding. Florence Elliott married Ben to save her newly adopted children. In fact, it was Sheriff Barstow who insisted they marry.
She’d gone West to find a decent man and get married. Having it forced on her like this was not her plan. But then, she’d never known men like Jed, Riley, and Clint. All three men made her want to do wicked things. Things that had seemed so hideous when her mother talked about them. She couldn’t imagine wanting a man to touch her there, much less putting something like a sausage inside her. Her sister had laughed at Victoria’s disgust, saying she would never learn how wonderful sex could be because she was so ugly no man would bother arousing her. Oh, they’d be happy to use her for their own gratification since she was a female, but they wouldn’t care about pleasing her.
These men would want to please her. Though she’d forced herself on them, they were kind. They didn’t have to give up their wonderfully comfortable bed to her.
From what she heard during the last couple of days, the valley wives were reasonably happy with their choices. Would she be content to live here, married to one of them? Considering the men she’d seen in her life, Jed, Clint, and Riley were saints. They aroused her, laughed with her, and wanted to please h
er. She’d never touched a man by choice, and certainly never kissed one.
She could live on this quiet, beautiful ranch. Cities and even Tanner’s Ford had too many people bustling around, sticking their noses high in the air. If she lived there, she’d have to be careful of what she said, how she said it, and to whom. But here, she’d have mountains to the north and south, caring neighbors to share the load. Maybe even true friends, something she’d never had. No one wanted to be associated with her, in case her disgrace rubbed off on them.
Friends, quiet, caring men in a home of her own, one that would shelter her children one day. Children who would have a father and two uncles to help them grow rather than one who abandoned them without a second thought. Children who could hold their heads high, proud of their home and family. They’d have lots of valley friends and would grow up strong, healthy, and loved.
She smoothed her dress, tucked the strands of loose hair back into place and strode toward the cabin with confident steps. This would be her home forever. She’d share it with her husband, his cousins, and their children.
Chapter Six
“Huh,” said Barstow after the door slammed behind Victoria. “Way she shook on that chair, I thought she’d faint again.” He tilted his hat to look at Jed from under the brim. “You sure she’s not with child?”
“God, no,” snarled Jed. “She’s always talking about keeping control so her perfect reputation isn’t tarnished. The woman wears about six petticoats, three shifts, and three dresses, all at the same time, to hide her figure. She’s a virgin for sure.”
“I guess learning others know she’s been living here knocked her for a loop,” said Clint. “She sure was happy the last couple days, humming as she worked.”