by Daina Palmer
"Evan, Harden, this is my wife, Penelope," C.C. introduced her, sliding a casual but possessive arm around her shoulders.
"She looks just the way you described her," Harden murmured dryly, extending a lean hand. His pale blue eyes assessed her and gave nothing away. "You're a rancher's daughter, I gathered."
Penelope nodded. "I grew up around horses and cattle," she said quietly, and smiled nervously. "Hereford cattle, of course," she added. "I guess our stock will look pretty mangy to you by comparison with your pure-bred Santa Gerts."
"Oh, we're not snobs," Harden murmured. He stuck his hands deep in his pockets and glanced at C.C. "Except when it comes to Old Man Red."
"The foundation sire of our herd," Evan added. He extended a hand the size of a plate and shook Pepi's with firm gentleness. His dark eyes narrowed. "You look threatened. No need. We're domesticated, and we've had our shots."
Pepi's rigid stance relaxed and she laughed, her whole face lighting up. Evan didn't smile, but his dark eyes did, and she felt at home for the first time.
"Speak for yourself," Harden drawled, and his blue eyes were briefly cold. "The day I get domesticated you can bury me."
"Harden is a card-carrying bachelor," Evan mused.
"Look who's talking," Harden replied.
"Not my fault that women can't appreciate my superior good looks and charm," the eldest Tremayne shrugged. "They trample me trying to get to you."
Pepi laughed with pure delight. They were nothing like she'd imagined.
"Come on. You can fight out at the ranch," C.C. said. He took Pepi's arm.
"Pity you had to walk off with Penelope before she got a look at us," Evan said, shaking his head. "I'm a much better proposition, Pepi. I still have all my own teeth."
"That's true," Harden agreed. "But only because you knocked out two of Connal's."
"Fair trade," Connal returned. "I got three of his."
"It was a long time ago," Evan said. "We've all calmed down a lot since then."
"C.C. hasn't been very calm lately," Pepi murmured. "I thought he was going to murder me when he found out we were married."
"Served him right for getting drunk," Evan said curtly. "Mother would lay a tire tool across his head for that."
"Oh, Pepi threatened to," C.C. chuckled. "Still a teetotaller, I see, Evan?"
"He carries it to sickening extremes," Harden murmured. "Justin and Shelby Ballenger will never invite him to another dinner party. He actually got up from the table and carried the glass of wine the waiter accidentally poured back to the kitchen."
C.C. burst out laughing. "Well, Justin never was much of a drinker himself, as I recall. Not in Calhoun's league, anyway."
"Calhoun's gotten as bad as Evan," Harden told him. "He doesn't want to set a poor example for the kids, or so he says."
"Alcohol is a curse," Evan said as they reached the car.
"My father will love you," Pepi said, grinning up at him.
When they got to the ranch, Ben seemed to take to Evan even before he knew about the eldest brother's temperance stance. But he was less relaxed with Harden. In fact, so was Pepi. The blue-eyed brother moved lazily and talked lazily, but Pepi sensed deep, dark currents in him.
The men talked business while Pepi whipped up a quick lunch, but the brothers only stayed for two hours and had to catch a plane right back to Jacobsville. Pepi didn't ride with C.C. to take them to the airport, though. She had a call from her prospective employer just as they were going out the door, and she waved them on to take it.
The insurance company's receptionist had decided that she did want her old job back. They were very apologetic, and promised to let Pepi know the minute they had another opening. She was disheartened, but it was probably just as well.
"We're going to get a bull." Ben Mathews was all but dancing as he told her. "One of the new crop of young bulls out of Checker. Remember reading about him in the trade paper? He's one of the finest herd sires in years!"
"And his progeny cost plenty, I don't doubt," Pepi said. "C.C.'s going to fund the addition, I gather."
"He's a full partner," Ben reminded her. "And we're all in this to make the ranch pay, aren't we?"
"Yes, I guess we are. How do you like his brothers?"
"Oh, Evan's a card. He's very obviously the financial brains of the outfit. Knows his figures."
"And Harden?" she added.
He sat down in his chair and crossed his legs. "Harden is a driven man. I don't know why, but he strikes me as a bad man to have for an enemy. He's charming, but underneath it, there's a darkness of spirit."
"A deep kind of pain," Pepi nodded, "and a terrible anger."
"Exactly. I hope we'll be doing most of our business with Evan. He's more like C.C."
"He's more like two of C.C," Pepi laughed. "I wonder what the other brother looks like, the one who's married?"
"Just like C.C. and Evan, from what I gather. Harden's the odd one, with those blue eyes. He doesn't really favor the others very much."
"Probably a throwback to another generation, like Aunt Mattie who had dark-haired parents and was a blonde."
"No doubt."
"My job didn't come through," she said after a minute. "They don't need me."
"Then why don't you do some bookkeeping and typing for the ranch?" Ben asked. "Connal said we're going to have to keep proper books now, and there'll be a lot of correspondence. He was going to hire somebody, but you're a good typist and you aren't bad with figures. We can keep it in the family."
"I guess I could," she said. "I like typing."
"You can talk to Connal when he gets back."
She cleaned up the kitchen and made an apple pie. By the time she took it out of the oven, Connal had returned.
"Did they get off all right?" she asked him.
"Like clockwork." He paused by the counter where she was placing a cloth over the pie. "For supper?" he asked hopefully.
She smiled at him shyly. "Yes. I like your brothers," she said.
"They liked you, too. Evan was particularly impressed."
"Evan is easier to get along with. Harden. . ." She hesitated. "He's. . . different."
"More different than you know," he said quietly. He moved closer, taking a strand of her hair in his fingers and twirling it around one. "How about supper and a movie tonight?"
"I have to get supper for Dad," she said, hesitating.
"We'll take him with us," he chuckled.
"On a date?" She lifted her eyebrows. "He'd love that. Besides, this is his checkers night with old man Dill down the road. No, I'll fix something for him before we go. He won't mind."
"If you're sure." He sighed heavily, watching her. "Pepi, how would you feel about moving into a house with me?" he added, frowning.
"But. . . but what about Dad?" she asked.
"Consuelo can cook and clean for him. She could go on salary. And there's a house, the Dobbs house. They moved back East last month," he reminded her. "Your father was renting them the house. It's small, but it would be just right for the two of us."
She couldn't cope with so much at once. Things were happening with lightning speed, and her mind was whirling.
"You mean, live with you all the time," she faltered. "Even at night?"
"That's the general idea," he replied. "A wife's place is with her husband."
"You didn't want a wife. You said so. . ."
". . .with alarming repetition, yes, I know," he finished for her. "Will you try to understand that I've changed my mind? That marriage is no longer the terror it was for me?"
"Well, yes, I'll try. But you didn't have much choice about ours, did you?"
He let go of her hair. "Not much," he agreed. "But looking back, I wouldn't have wanted to marry anyone. Surely you realized that?"
"You were pretty adamant about it," she nodded. "I just wish we'd gone about things in the normal way. I'll always feel that you were trapped into a relationship you really didn
't want."
"So were you," he replied. "But the thing we have to do now is make the most of it. An annulment would disgrace us both, Pepi, especially your father. Now that he and I are in partnership, the best way to cement it is to make the marriage a real one."
"Is it what you really want, Connal?" she asked worriedly.
"Of course it is," he said.
She couldn't help feeling that he was only saying that to put her at ease. It would hurt his pride to get an annulment. People might think he wasn't enough of a man to fulfill his wedding vows. Too, he might still have in mind using her to ward off other contenders for his hand in marriage.
"Could I have a little more time?" she asked hesitantly.
He stared down at her. After the afternoon, he'd thought she'd be immediately receptive to his advances, but perhaps she'd had too much time to think and she'd gotten cold feet. The last thing he could afford to do was to rush her.
"Okay," he said after a minute. "You can have a little more time. But you and I are going to start doing things together, Pepi. If we don't live together, we're at least going to start acting like married people in public."
"That's all right with me," she said. But afterward, she worried about Edie. Had Connal told her about his marriage? And was his relationship with Edie really as innocent as he'd said it was?
Chapter Nine
Connal took her to the same exclusive restaurant in El Paso where she'd gone with Brandon the night before her father's birthday. She was wearing a plain gray jersey dress with a pretty scarf, her hair down around her shoulders, and Connal had told her that she looked delightfully pretty. Even if he was lying, it was exciting to go on a real date with him, to have his dark eyes possessive on her face as they walked to their table.
He looked elegant in a dinner jacket and dark slacks, his white silk shirt a perfect foil for his dark complexion and darker eyes and hair. Pepi loved to look at him. She thought that in all the world, there couldn't be a more handsome man.
He seated her and then himself, and she smiled at him until a movement caught her eye and she saw Edie sitting at a nearby table all alone, staring pointedly at Connal.
"I'd better have a word with her," he told Pepi, his eyes narrowing. "I won't be a minute."
He got up and went to the other table, smiling at an Edie who became suddenly radiant. The blonde was wearing a simple black sheath dress cut almost to the navel in front, and Pepi despaired of the way she probably compared to the sophisticated older woman.
She couldn't tear her eyes away from them. They did look so right together, and despite C.C.'s determination to make the most of a bad situation—their marriage—she felt guilty and ashamed that he'd had to be trapped into marrying her when he'd have been so much better off with Edie. Pepi was just a country girl. She had no sophistication. She didn't even know how to choose the kind of clothes that were proper for a place like this. Inevitably she was going to be a dismal disappointment for a man like Connal, who was born to wealth and high society.
Edie's face suddenly went rigid. She stared at Pepi blankly for an instant, and then with quickly concealed rage. Her attention went back to C.C. and she seemed to come apart emotionally. She started crying.
C.C. got her up out of her chair and put a comforting arm around her as he led her gently out of the restaurant.
Obviously he'd told her about the marriage. Did he tell her, Pepi wondered, that it had been a forced one, and not of his choosing? Was he going to take her home now or get her a cab?
Ten minutes passed and Pepi grew more upset as she realized he'd more than likely driven Edie home. He'd comfort her, surely. Maybe more than that. He and Edie were close, even if they weren't lovers. Or had he stretched the truth about that, too?
The waiter hovered and Pepi went ahead and ordered soup du jour and a chef's salad. It was all she had any appetite for.
She'd just finished when C.C. came back, his expression telling her nothing as he sat down across from her.
"Is she all right?" Pepi asked quietly.
"Not really, but she'll do. I should have picked a better place to tell her," he said shortly. "God, I never expected that kind of reaction."
"She's been your only steady date for a long time," Pepi said with downcast eyes. "It's understandable that she had hopes of her own."
C.C. hated scenes. It brought back unpleasant memories of times when Marsha had put away too many cocktails and did her best to embarrass him. She'd never succeeded. Neither had Edie, but it touched off his temper.
"Women always have hopes," he said with cold bitterness. "Of course, not all of them are fortunate enough to catch a man drunk and drag him into a Mexican wedding chapel."
Pepi closed her eyes. She shouldn't let him get to her like this. Despite his ardor, his desire for her, underneath there was always going to be resentment that he'd been less than sober when he signed the marriage license. He was never going to let Pepi forget, either, and what kind of life was that going to be for either of them?
"I wouldn't exactly call it fortunate," Pepi replied without looking at him.
"Thank you," he replied acidly. "I can return the compliment."
The waiter came and C.C. ordered a steak and salad. He sipped the coffee he'd ordered and glared at Pepi. It wasn't her fault, he knew, but he was furious at Edie's theatrics and Pepi's meek acceptance of his bad humor. He wanted a fight, and he couldn't seem to start one. If Pepi continued to knuckle under like this, marriage was going to be impossible for her.
"Nothing to say?" he prodded.
She tightened her fingers around the water glass. "What would you like to hear?" She lifted the glass, her pale brown eyes glittering with dislike. "Or would you prefer something nonverbal but just as enlightening?''
His eyes began to twinkle. "Go ahead. Throw it."
She glanced around at the elegant diners surround-ing them and thought better of it. There were some priceless antiques decorating the place. With her luck she'd hit something irreplaceable and land them in debt for years. She put the water glass down.
"It's not my fault," she said coldly. "You're the one who threatened to shoot up Juarez."
"And you knew I didn't have a gun," he countered.
"No, I didn't," she returned. "Dad told me once that you have a Beretta and a license to carry it. I had no way of knowing there wasn't one in your pocket, and I wasn't about to frisk you."
"God forbid," he said with mock horror. "Imagine having to touch a live man like that''
"Cut it out," she muttered, reddening.
"You are a greenhorn and a half, aren't you?" he mused. "Don't know how to kiss, don't know how to make love, wouldn't dream of touching a man below the belt. . ."
"Stop!" She glanced around quickly to make sure nobody had heard him, her face beet-red. "Somebody might hear you!"
"So what? We're married." His eyes narrowed. "Till death do us part," he added mockingly.
Her own eyes narrowed and she smiled sweetly. "In that case, do check your bed at night, dear man. I'll see if I can find a couple of rattly bedmates for you."
"One of your ranch hands did that, the first night I was here," he recalled, grinning at her shock. "Didn't they ever tell you?"
"Somebody put a live rattlesnake in your bed?" she gasped.
"Indeed they did," he replied. "Fortunately they'd defanged him first, but it was an interesting experience."
"What did you do?"
"You didn't hear the gunshot, either, I gather?" he mused.
"You shot it?"
"Uh-huh," he agreed. "Right through the head, the mattress, and the bunkhouse floor."
"Poor old snake," she said.
He gave her a hard glare. "Aren't you the one who leaped up onto the hood of a truck from a standing start when one came slithering past your foot this summer?"
"I didn't say I liked them," she emphasized. "But I think it's horrible to kill things without reason. What
could the poor thing have done to you—gummed you to death?"
"You're forgetting I didn't know he'd had his fangs pulled."
"Oh. I guess not."
The waiter brought his meal and he ate it in silence, noticing that Pepi's eyes wandered back to the window and the sharp, dark outline of the mountains in the distance. She was brooding, and he felt bad that he'd attacked her without reason.
"I suppose Edie was angry?" she said, fishing.
He finished the last bit of his steak and washed it down with steaming black coffee. "That's an understatement. She had a lot to say when I told her how our marriage had come about."
"Including advising you on the quickest way to have it annulled, I imagine?" she asked miserably.
"I told her we couldn't get an annulment," he murmured dryly.
"But, of course we can," she said without thinking. "We haven't—" She broke off, gasping.
He watched her eyes widen when she realized what he was saying.
"You didn't tell Edie that?" she burst out.
"Why not?" His black eyes probed hers. "Regardless of how they got said, I consider marriage vows binding. That means I don't have women on the side. As for what we haven't done yet, you'll sleep with me, eventually. You're as hungry for it as I am. Maybe even hungrier. I remember how I ached before my first time. And I wanted Marsha so much that I couldn't sleep at night."
Neither could she, but she wasn't about to admit that to him. She lowered her eyes to the table. "I suppose your first wife loved you?" she asked idly.
"She loved the idea of my money, just like the ones who come after her, up to and including Edie," he replied with a cynicism that shocked Pepi. He looked at that moment like a man who'd known every conceivable kind of woman and trusted none of them.
"Did Edie know who you were?" Pepi asked.
He nodded. "Through a mutual friend. So you see, it wasn't love eternal on her part. She enjoyed a good time and eating in the best places. But she'll find someone else. There are plenty of well-heeled bachelors around."
"Are you as cynical as you sound?" she asked.