The Lassoed by Marriage Romance Collection

by Bell, Angela; Breidenbach, Angela; Carter, Lisa

  He might not be able to tell her good night, but surely he would see her in the morning. And that might be just as good. He made his way across the yard and back into the barn. The couple of horses that had been boarded for the night nickered as he came in. He could hear their soft weight shift in their stalls, their breath even.

  He knew there were more beds in the house, but it was better this way. All the more reason after his reaction to her that afternoon. Their relationship could never be more than it was now. As soon as this crop came in he was going to find the man who killed his sister then framed him for the crime. And after that… Well, he hadn’t given much thought to after that. He would figure out what to do with the rest of his life later. But until then—

  The sound came to him, soft and mewing, like a cat who had lost his mother. But he had seen only one cat out here, and that was an old yellow Tom. Which meant no kittens, unless he had found himself a girlfriend and Wash hadn’t noticed.

  The mewing sound came again. He listened intently, realizing that it came from one of the horse stalls. They weren’t all full, just a couple. Maybe old Tom had found himself a girl and brought her home.

  Just what they needed, a couple more mouths in need of vittles. At least cats were good at finding their own food.

  The first horse stall had a mare in foal that he wanted to keep separate from the rest. The next held one of Penny’s older geldings. The horse seemed to be dwindling fast, and Wash thought it better to bring the old horse in out of the night air. But the next horse stall down was empty. Or at least he thought it was. He pushed open the door, and there, huddled in the hay, was his wife.

  “Penny?” He eased inside.

  She jerked as if she’d only just then realized he’d found her. Then she pushed herself up straighter and used the backs of her hands to wipe her tears from her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” she said. She pushed herself to her feet, still wiping away tears as she stood. Her caramel-colored hair had bits of straw entwined in the curls and somehow that made her look all the more desirable. No longer was she the formidable woman who stood beside him on the porch facing down her oily neighbor, nor was she the spitfire he watched march into the sheriff’s office demanding a husband. Now she was just a soft, sweet-smelling woman whose heart had been trampled on. By the war? By a man? Who was to say?

  “I’ll just go now.” She started to push past him, but he reached out a hand to stay her leave.

  “What’s wrong?” He said the words gently, in the same voice he used when talking to skittish beasts and small children.

  “I—Nothing.” She sniffed loudly as if somehow that would hide all the evidence of her tears.

  “I don’t believe that for a minute.” Then something inside him shifted. He pulled her closer and closer still. She was stiff in his arms, holding herself away from him like a board bowed in the weather. But he wasn’t about to let this go. A girl didn’t come out to the barn and cry like the world had ended for no reason.

  He cupped the back of her head with one hand and pushed it to his shoulder, offering what comfort he had.

  She was warm and sweet in his arms. But he tried to concentrate on other things. Anything else but the feel of her in his arms. This marriage had no place for gentler feelings.

  His plan had been to embrace her like he would his sister and show her compassion and understanding. But once he had her in his arms, his feelings were anything but brotherly. What made a woman as strong as Penelope Pinehurst dissolve into tears? He had to know.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked again. He continued to hold her close, rubbing one hand down her back in a measure of comfort but knowing he was digging his grave deeper.

  “It’s all so much.” She shook her head and pulled away from him.

  Common sense took over, and Wash allowed her to step from his embrace.

  “Every day I pray that my brother and my father will return, and every day nothing. Sometimes it just gets me down.”

  “What will you do if they don’t return?” He hadn’t wanted to ask the question, but it’d been two years since the end of the war. If they hadn’t come back by now… They could be starving in Andersonville or buried in an unmarked grave in some field. Who knew? The war had been devastating, taking fathers, brothers, sons, and uncles. Before him stood the worst casualty of all: a woman who had lost near everything.

  “I don’t know.” Tears welled in her eyes once again, and Wash immediately regretted asking. But as much as he wanted to comfort her again, he knew it was best to keep his distance. Something was happening between him and Penny, though he couldn’t say exactly what “it” was. Love? Mutual need? Or maybe it was just what happened when two people found themselves married and alone. Whatever it was, nothing of it was acceptable. Just a couple more months and he would be gone. Wash would not leave a broken heart in his wake.

  He reached out a hand and wiped the tears from her cheek. Her brown eyes widened, as fearful as a doe’s, then she pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry to bother you.” She started to push past him once again. This time he let her go.

  Chapter 4

  Penny hurried to the house as if the devil himself were on her heels. What had she been thinking? She shared this farm with a stranger, a handsome devilish stranger who had a heart as big as the sky. Just the thought of the comfort he offered brought a blush to her cheeks and a warmth to her heart.

  Washington Brannock had something different, though she couldn’t say what it was. Her experience with men had been limited at best, even more so when it came to men like Wash. She hadn’t bothered to ask what he’d been in jail for. And when Margaret had told her that it was murder, her heart sank to her toes. Wash didn’t look like a murderer, didn’t act like a murderer. And though she was surprised that he had managed to stay this long, he seemed to have more integrity than she would suspect from a killer. But that didn’t mean he was any less dangerous.

  She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and continued up the porch steps. She needed to keep her distance from her farmhand husband. Because regardless of the title of husband, he was still a hired hand. She had bought his life from the gallows in order to have him plant crops for her. It was an uneven exchange, but one that worked in her favor as well. She needed those crops. She needed him to stay, but more than anything she needed not to fall in love with him.

  She sat herself down in the rocking chair in front of the fireplace and stared into the dying embers. “Dear Lord in heaven, I have done what I thought best. What I thought You wanted me to do. And yet now I’m not so sure about that decision. Help me, Lord, help me understand if my decision was right. And help me, Lord, to know what to do each day, so that I walk with You in every aspect of my life. And, Lord, wherever Pa and my brother are tonight, please let them make it home safe. Take care of them and watch over them as You watch over me. And Wash,” she added. “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  Something had changed between them. Penny wasn’t sure what it was, but it existed all the same. They seemed to be working more toward a common goal now. And whether the change came from her or him, she wasn’t sure.

  Two months into their marriage, and more than ever Penny felt the excitement of a brand-new start. Tiny green sprouts were pushing through the dry earth. It rained just enough to get them through, but she wasn’t complaining. The garden was taking off nicely, and before long they would have fresh vegetables for the table. Wash had started hunting in the mornings, and though most of the fare was squirrels and rabbits, at least they had fresh meat. For that she would be eternally grateful.

  The door flung open, and Wash stuck his head in, a grin on his face like she had never seen before.

  Penny jumped sending flour in the air.

  “What are you doing?” Wash asked.

  Penny wiped the flour from her face and sputtered, “Making bread.”

  “Oh,” he said, just his head still visible through the door frame. “Well, stop for a bit
and come here. I’ve got something I want to show you.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Her tone was skeptical. What did he need to show her?

  She grabbed a dish towel and wiped as much of the flour from her face and hands as she could before starting out the door. She stepped onto the porch, her gaze scanning the yard to see where Wash had gotten off to. She found him in an instant, a deer hanging by its feet from the skinning post in the yard.

  “You killed that?” She knew her eyes were huge as she stared at the doe. She hated that the beautiful creature had to die for them, but venison!

  She rushed down the steps to stand next to him. He was grinning even broader than before, apparently proud of himself.

  “I’ve been watching her for a while now. Just waiting to get the right shot. Hunting’s hard going if you’re only out for a bit every day, but it’s going to be good eating tonight.”

  “Yes, it is!” Penny launched herself at her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  She stood there for a moment feeling his heart beat so close to hers, then his arms came around her and pulled her closer still.

  The hitch in his breath drew her gaze to his. His eyes were black as night, so deep and dark she couldn’t fathom one emotion from them. All she could see was their intensity, and the heat she hadn’t known existed.

  “Wash?” She needed him to say something to let her know everything was okay. But instead of words, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.

  The realization hit her like never before. Was this what it felt like to be kissed? Girls like her weren’t kissed very often, and this was her first. And what a kiss it was!

  His lips were soft and sweet as they moved over hers. And she felt as if every good thing in the world was wrapped up in that one embrace. She felt herself falling and falling, until she wasn’t sure if she would ever make it back up.

  Then Wash pulled away, breaking their kiss and setting her an arm’s length from him in one jarring motion.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Penny couldn’t say a word. She just stood there, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at her husband. He was sorry? It was the best kiss of her life, the only kiss of her life, and he was sorry?

  She shook her head. Then she took two more steps backward, the joy of the venison lost in the confusion she now faced. Her husband had kissed her, but he was sorry.

  “Penny?” He took a step toward her, his arm outstretched, his hand reaching, his eyes remorseful.

  She shook her head then turned on her heel and ran for the house.

  Penny shut the door behind her and leaned against it, like that would keep him out. Like he wanted in. He had kissed her and then rebuked her. In one swift moment, she had fallen in love with him, only to have her hopes shattered a second later.

  She shook her head at her foolish ways.

  Lord, whatever this is I feel for Wash, take it from me. I do not want to love him. I do not want to love a man whose kisses are sweet but whose heart isn’t true.

  And he couldn’t have a true heart if he was sorry.

  She pushed herself off the door and made her way back into the kitchen. Flour still dusted every available surface where she had been making the dough, but suddenly she didn’t feel like baking bread anymore. Not that she had much choice.

  She wiped her hands on her apron and started kneading the dough once more. This time praying that Wash would be so busy with his deer that he wouldn’t come in until supper.

  He told himself not to go after her. As much as he wanted to follow behind her, explain, kiss her again, he had to let her go.

  And he wanted to explain and maybe kiss her again. But his explanation and kissing did not go together. He should’ve never kissed her to begin with. She was his wife, but in name only. In another couple of months he would be heading out to get his revenge.

  Nancy, his sister, had been his world. After their parents had died, after they lost everything at the beginning of the war, Nancy was his everything. He would have given her anything, and when she had asked to marry Ralston James, Wash had given his blessing despite his misgivings.

  Ralston seemed a little too slick, a little too smart, a lot like Penny’s neighbor. Not wanting to deny his sister, Wash kept his mouth shut about his reservations. That was his first mistake. His second came two days before the wedding. He had gone to Ralston’s house to go over some last-minute plans. He’d expected to get Ralston alone, and what he got was Ralston and his sister. Except Nancy was no longer with them. Ralston had choked her, cut off her air until she could breathe no more. Then he managed to convince everyone in a fifty-mile radius that Wash had killed her instead.

  Wash was flabbergasted that everyone believed Ralston, but money can buy almost anything, even innocence. Wash had none, and though Ralston was still trying to build his postwar, carpetbag fortune, he still had more than the Brannocks. James had gotten off scot-free, and Wash was left to hang.

  Why he hadn’t hung before now was anybody’s guess. It seemed as if no one wanted to take the responsibility for putting the noose around his neck. Instead they traded him jail to jail until he ended up in Cooper. And that was where Penny had come in.

  Penny. He had never met anyone like her, so strong and tough on the outside but soft and womanly on the inside. She was a product of the war, a product of survival, and the grandest creature God ever made. Heaven help him. He was starting to develop feelings for her. Feelings that had no place in a heart filled with revenge.

  He didn’t have time for love, didn’t have time to be a proper husband to anyone, much less the kind of husband that Penelope Pinehurst deserved. He didn’t know if her father or her brother would ever make it back from the war. For all he knew, they could have died in Andersonville years ago. But she prayed every night that they would return, just as she prayed every night for healthy crops, good rains, and a long growing season. Even the fact that she prayed… That was more than he could do.

  He’d stopped praying a long time ago. Yet these days when she bowed her head, he bowed his without question and let her words wash through him and on up to heaven. Maybe some of her goodness would rub off on him and God would listen, if only through her.

  But that kiss… He had apologized, should do so again, but he didn’t think she could listen to it now. He gave one last look to the shut door of the house, then with a sigh he turned back to his kill. She might accept and offer her forgiveness if he came bearing a gift.

  Supper was too cordial by far. Penny wouldn’t look him in the face. She skimmed everywhere except his eyes. The tip of his ear, this side of his cheek. She seemed to have a special love of his collarbone. But she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  “The bread’s good,” he said, complimenting her on the tenth thing since he’d sat down. He had complimented her hair, the table setting, the pickles she had canned, the jam, and a host of other things he couldn’t even remember.

  “Thank you.” Her gaze centered on his upper lip. Then she turned beet-red and pulled it down to his collarbone once again.

  He planned to say something after dinner, but he’d had about all of this he could take.

  “Penny, about this afternoon…”

  She jumped to her feet and headed toward the stove, snatching up the pot of coffee and returning to the table in a heartbeat. “Would you like some more?”

  He held his cup up for her to fill it, even though he really didn’t want any more coffee.

  “Penny, I’m trying to apologize.”

  She whirled back around, her back to him as she set the coffee onto the stove top. But once her hands were free, she didn’t face him.

  “Penny?”

  She shook her head then whirled back around. “Please don’t tell me you’re sorry. Please.” Tears filled those amazing brown eyes once again.

  Wash stood, intending to offer her comfort of one sort or another, but she held up her hands as if to keep him at a distance
. “No,” she said.

  “Why can’t I say I’m sorry?” All he wanted was her forgiveness. They had been married for two months, and she had come to mean more to him than just someone who lived in the house while he slept in the barn. As much as he didn’t want to examine any of those feelings he held for her, her forgiveness still meant a great deal to him.

  “Because,” she cried, her eyes fluttering closed as if she was trying to gather thoughts too painful to look at. “Because that was the best kiss of my life, and I can’t stand it if you’re sorry for it.”

  “The best?”

  Her eyes flew open. “I should have never told you that.” She moved to flounce around him, but he grabbed her by one arm and pulled her back. Holding her at an arm’s distance even as he chuckled.

  “It’s not every day a man gets told he’s the best.”

  She harrumphed. “Don’t be so smug. It was only the best because it’s my only one. Ever.”

  He frowned. “You’ve never been kissed?”

  “Well, I have now.”

  Wash shook his head again, trying to get ahold of the thoughts and what she was telling him. “When I kissed you, that was your first kiss ever?”

  She reluctantly nodded.

  “Are you joshing me?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Why? What about—” He didn’t even say the man’s name before Penny shook her head again. “I never kissed Jackson.”

  “No school days boyfriend?”

  “Are you having trouble understanding me?”

  It was his turn to shake his head. “What’s wrong with the guys around here?”

  Penny let out a bark of laughter. “Now you’re joshing me.”

  “Why would I do that?” Why were they talking in circles?

  “Look at me.” Her voice was so matter-of-fact that he flinched. “I am not pretty. I did not have boyfriends. I do not have a boyfriend, and I have never been kissed.”