Hanchart Land

by Becky Barker

  She took the beautiful dress to her room. After washing her hands, she took it from the box, hung it on a padded hanger, and stroked the satin with loving fingers. It had been so long since she’d felt all the normal womanly reactions to pretty clothes and soft fabrics. She’d almost forgotten the pleasure. John's generosity made her feel weepy, but she fought off the melancholy and returned to the pool.

  He and Luke were in the water. They'd stretched a volleyball net across one end of the pool and were batting a ball back and forth. John was in excellent condition for a man his age, but Luke was truly awesome, with shoulders that seemed impossibly wide and tightly corded muscles that rippled with his every movement.

  John grabbed the ball when it came zinging his way and paused to yell at Susan. "Hey, I need some help here. I'm too old to keep up with this big kid much longer."

  She grinned when he referred to Luke as a kid since he was one hundred percent adult male in thinking and physique. "I'll help, but I'm not sure how much," she warned.

  The men didn't mind. They seemed to enjoy her company, and she enjoyed theirs as they laughed and teased and played. It was a rare pleasure for her to be part of a family again, even a small one. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually played a game or laughed so much. She basked in the simple joy of it.

  Later, she put together a light meal for the three of them since Rosa didn't work on Sunday. When Luke excused himself from their company to attend to paperwork, John spent a couple hours trying to teach her how to play chess. She'd always admired the older man, but the more time she spent with him, the more she grew to like him.

  It was nearly ten o'clock when they put away the chess set. John said it was past his bedtime, and he'd stick his head in the office to tell Luke they were calling it a night. She worried a little about her future husband's reluctance to spend time with her, but refused to dwell on it too much. For the second night in a row, she went sound asleep within minutes of climbing into bed.

  On Monday morning, Luke took her to Doctor Peters' office for a checkup while he ran some errands. Then they had blood drawn, went to the courthouse to file for their marriage license, and headed back to the ranch. Susan was relieved they didn’t run into anyone they knew too well.

  Reverend Thompson came to the ranch in the afternoon, counseled them on the ups and downs of married life and then scheduled the wedding service for early Friday evening.

  When he left, they remained in the ranch office for a few minutes. The room was big and sparsely furnished with a desk, some file cabinets, and three brown leather chairs. The carpet and furniture were serviceable so any dirt tracked in could be easily removed.

  Luke moved behind his desk, sat down and handed a postcard size form to Susan. She was still sitting in a chair across from his desk.

  "This is a signature card from the bank," he explained. "I talked to Bob Anderson today and told him we were getting married. He can be trusted to keep quiet about it, but he needs your signature for your bank account."

  Susan studied the form. She'd closed her account as well as Shane's. "What account?"

  "I'm opening a new checking account for you, and he needs your signature so you can access the ranch's operating account. Rosa, Juan, and I all have access to the business one. For your personal account, you'll have checking, ATM, and Visa access once it's all processed."

  She couldn't help but stare at him in amazement. "I don't want access to your money," she argued.

  Luke's mouth stretched into a tight line. "As of Friday, it'll be our money, remember? You'll need an allowance, and I'll be transferring a large sum of money into your personal account to pay Shane's bills."

  Susan responded through tight lips. "I know those debts need to be paid," she said, yet pride kept her from graciously accepting the offer. “But it doesn’t have to be done all at once, and I intend to work off some of the debt myself. I don't need an allowance or access to the ranch account. I'm not bringing a penny into the marriage."

  He frowned. "Your dowry is Hanchart land."

  It had never really belonged to her in the first place. "But I can't legally turn that over to you."

  "I'm not asking you to," he replied in a clipped tone. "I'll fight you to the death if you ever try to walk away and take any of it with you. But once we're married, you become part owner of everything."

  She took his words in the manner he intended them; as a threat. He wasn't demanding a prenuptial agreement on paper, but he was demanding it just the same.

  "I don't have any aspirations to make off with what has belonged to your family for generations."

  "Good, because I have no intention of giving up even a fraction of it."

  They stared at each other for a long time, both tense with frustration. Shane was, and probably always would be, at the root of their problems, yet they had to find a way to deal with the mess he'd created.

  "You're also bringing the promise of future generations of Hancharts to this marriage," he reminded. "That's important."

  He left little doubt that the land was his primary concern, and any future they built was secondary. The idea sent a little shiver of dread down her spine.

  "And what if I can't follow through on the promise?" she wanted to know. "If we find out I'm not any good at procreating, will I just get tossed out on my ear?"

  She could tell by the tightening of his jaw he wasn't pleased by the question or her refusal to cooperate.

  "We're talking about a real marriage, remember? That point seems to be getting by you," was his grating comeback, "If one of us isn't capable of reproducing, then we consider the options. Just like any other couple would do."

  Susan sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her hair. It was hanging straight and loose around her shoulders today, so she had to keep shoving it back to keep it off her face. "I'm sorry, Luke. I want a real marriage, too. I'm just having a hard time adjusting to all the details."

  His tone was hard when he answered. "It’s not the first time for you. You should be more familiar with the routine than I am," he reminded, expression hard.

  She couldn't refute the truth of them. She wished she could explain how different this was and how much more important it was to her. She wondered if he'd ever get over his resentment of her first marriage.

  "I never handled any of our finances when Shane and I were married," was her weak reply.

  Shane had wanted her totally dependent on him. He'd provided a cash allowance for groceries and had taken care of everything else when it suited him. The only spending money she'd ever had was what she'd earned teaching some riding classes.

  "You won't have to handle anything now if you don't want to," he told her, "but you're bound to need money at some point."

  Susan nodded in agreement, but she didn't feel very agreeable. She felt like a freeloader. A complete fraud. The parasite people would call her when they learned she'd married him. She didn't want a penny of his money, not even to lift the crushing load of debt Shane had dropped on her shoulders. She wasn't sure what it felt like to be a real wife, but all she felt right now was cheap.

  The only thing she could do was sign the forms to avoid another argument. She couldn't prevent his grim anger about her previous marriage, but she would try being more cooperative. She picked up a pen and filled out the signature card.

  Luke took the form, read her name and then gave her a strange look. His eyes were questioning, making hers furrow in a frown.

  "What's wrong. Did I sign the wrong line?"

  His gaze never left her face. "You signed your maiden name, Lawrie."

  Susan felt warmth creep into her cheeks. She wasn't being deliberately obtuse, she just wasn't thinking clearly. She'd never really thought of herself as a Hanchart, so she'd never gotten into the habit of using the name.

  "I'm sorry, Luke, I didn't think about it," she said, "I swear I didn't do it on purpose. Will they accept that or can we get another form?"

  "It can wait," he replie
d, crushing the paper and tossing it in the trashcan. "Once we're married you can get used to signing as Mrs. Luke Hanchart."

  The accent on his first name held more than a hint of possessiveness. It troubled her. She didn't want him feeling like he had to compete with his dead cousin. Not on her account. Not for any reason.

  "In the meantime, let me know if you need money for anything," he added.

  Her reply was swift. "I don't need any money."

  Luke's eyes bored into hers. He wondered what kind of game she was playing. She was obviously broke, so why pretend she didn't need his money?

  "Clothes? Personal items?" She was shaking her head. "Rosa said you didn't unpack many clothes. Do you have the rest stored?"

  Susan felt her blush deepen and hated the telltale reaction. In her younger days she'd been a real clotheshorse. She'd owned more clothes and shoes than she'd had room for in her closets, but most of them were gone now. She'd sold her best outfits to help support Butch in the lean years. They hadn't brought a lot of money, but every penny had been needed.

  Shane had liked to show her off to his friends, so he'd bought several flashy outfits for her. She'd hated them and had given them all to Goodwill after he died. The whole issue was a sore subject.

  "Unless you're planning on doing a lot of entertaining, I don't need dressy clothes. I have plenty of jeans and shirts."

  "How about the party Saturday night?"

  "I have a couple of decent outfits," she snapped. "I'll try not to embarrass you."

  "Dammit, that's not what I meant, and you know it. You're just being bullheaded again."

  "And you're being insulting.

  "I'm trying to take care of your needs. That's what husbands do, or so I'm told."

  Susan was torn. She didn't want to argue anymore. She ran a hand over her eyes and drew in a deep breath. They were both getting testy, and that was counterproductive.

  "I don't need anything right now," she told him very firmly, yet honestly.

  "I hope you're not planning to go back to work at the restaurant." The subject added more annoyance to his tone. "I need you here with the horses."

  "I told you I was replaced, and I prefer working with the horses," she replied, even though he seemed to be managing just fine without her help. "Once we're married, I'll sign the proper name on the proper forms and help myself to your money. Okay?"

  It was obvious he didn't appreciate her tone or attitude. Her weak attempt at humor failed miserably. She could almost see the wheels of his brain turning as he searched for hidden meanings in everything she said.

  His suspicious attitude hurt even though she understood the cause. It was sad to think he had to question the motives of everyone he dealt with, even on a personal level. If that was what it meant to have lots of money and power, she wasn't interested in either.

  However he interpreted her words, he didn’t any further. His gaze never left hers as he replied. "I guess it'll have to do for now, won't it?"

  "I guess it will." Susan agreed, rising from her chair and leaving the room without another word.

  Luke watched her go with mixed emotions; anger, frustration, and a deep desire all rolled together. She’d had his emotions in a tangle since they first met. He’d thought she was different, special, a woman he could trust. Then Shane had gotten wind of his interest in her and decided to challenge him for her attention. Luke had been sure Susan would resist his cousin’s shallow charm and see the weak, worthless man underneath the good looks. He’d been wrong. She’d started ignoring his calls and breaking dates. Before long, she and Shane had been married.

  Life had become a living hell in the months that followed, and his pride had taken a severe beating. Shane had taunted him on a regular basis and flaunted his wife whenever possible. They’d been competitive since the day they were born, but Shane had taken competitiveness to a higher level. He’d taken malicious joy in winning Susan’s love. Luke wanted to believe he could put the past behind them, but pride was a funny thing, and he’d never quite gotten over the brutal sting of rejection.

  Susan’s actions had forced him to erect protective barriers around his heart. He didn’t know if he could ever completely forgive her. He didn’t dare let her past his guard, however willing and appealing she might seem. He wanted her with a savage need that couldn’t be denied. He intended to have her. Every hour she spent under his roof made it harder to rein his desire. He wanted to sate himself with her; spend hours expToning every inch of her body. He wanted to plant his seed in her and see her swollen with his child. He also wanted her undying devotion, but he couldn’t risk giving her another chance to cuckold him. He’d have her on his terms this time.

  * * * *

  It was Wednesday morning before Susan ventured out of the house again. Luke had assured her the horses were okay, but she wanted to see for herself. She waited until he and most of the ranch hands went to round up cattle, then she headed for the brood mare barn.

  Unfortunately, the man in charge of feeding the mares was Rod Matthews. He was her least favorite of Shane's old friends, the one she'd chased from the house with a shotgun. The sight of him halted her in her tracks.

  Rod's uncle was the Matthews who'd tried to buy Shane's land from her. He was very wealthy and Rod was his only living relative, yet the two of them were always feuding. He usually came to work for the Hancharts when his uncle got fed up with him. Rod was very much like Shane had been— handsome, spoiled and totally lacking in morals.

  He turned as soon as he caught sight of her and flashed her a hundred-watt smile that might have thrilled some women, but not her.

  "Mornin', Susan." Setting aside the feed pail, he began to move slowly toward her with a smug expression and a much-practiced swagger.

  Tall, dark, and handsome, he was very good looking but had an ego bigger than Texas. They'd known each other since grade school. He'd been a bully, and she a defender of those he bullied.

  "Haven't seen you out and about much lately."

  "I came to check on the horses," was her cool reply. She tried to move past him, but he stuck out an arm to block her path. She was loathe to touch him, even long enough to shove his arm out of her way.

  "What's the hurry, widow lady?" His snicker was barely camouflaged by the low drawl. "You got no shotgun and nobody around to interfere, so why not pass the time with some pleasantries?"

  Susan didn't want any part of his sort of pleasantries. “Get out of my way, Rod."

  His eyes flashed. "Now, now, watch your tone, spitfire. That ain't no way to get a man like me to cooperate," he told her. "You need honey, not vinegar."

  She just glared at him, and he continued.

  "I thought you was all packed up and movin' to the big city," he said. "Or was that just a ruse to get an invite from Luke to share the big house?"

  She didn't dignify the question with a response, but her expression told him it was none of his business.

  "You sharin' his bed, too?"

  "You're disgusting," she snapped. "Get out of my way."

  "Make me, sugar," he persisted, eyes gleaming with unholy pleasure. "I'd sure welcome a chance to rassle around with you a while."

  Susan wasn't about to accept the challenge. She knew his ego was still smarting from earlier rejections, so she decided to retreat and come back later. But when she turned to leave the barn, he grabbed her by the shoulders and twisted her backward into his arms.

  The action startled and unbalanced her. Before she could react with any force, he had her shoved against the wall with her arms pinned. Fighting to free herself from his oppressive strength, she twisted and kicked out at him, but her efforts were wasted.

  When he started to lower his head, she screamed in frustrated fury. "Stop it! Damn you, stop it!"

  He tried to kiss her, but she threw her head from side to side to avoid his mouth. When he let go of her arms long enough to hold her head still, she slapped him on both sides of his head, hard enough to make his ears ring.
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  "Vicious bitch.'" he rasped, clutching her arms so hard they went numb. He shook his head as if to clear it. "Shane always said you liked to play rough."

  "Shane was a liar, and you're nothing but slime!" she screamed. The suffocating press of his body against hers was stirring her into a panic, and she fought for breath.

  Then Luke appeared behind Rod, and she was suddenly free. He spun the younger man around and landed a solid right fist on Rod's jaw. It was followed by another fist to the stomach. The blows sent him to his knees.

  "Get up!" Luke snarled in rage.

  Rod came off the floor with the speed of a snake, lunging for him, but he was no match for Luke's superior size and strength. After another fist connected with his face, he went down again.

  Luke would have dragged him to his feet for more punches, but Rod quickly rolled out of reach.

  "I got no quarrel with you," he insisted, holding his stomach and gasping for air.

  Luke didn't respond to that. "Get up, get your gear packed, and be off my ranch in an hour. I'll send your pay, but if I ever catch you on Hanchart property again, I'll tear you apart."

  Rod was obviously stunned to find himself fired. "You can't mean that," he argued, brushing a shirtsleeve over his bleeding lip. "I'm one of the best hands on this ranch, and you know it."

  Luke's reply was terse. "I've warned you before, and I'm done warning. You're nothing but trouble. Now get out before I throw you out!"

  Rod came to his feet, scooped his hat from the floor and slapped it on his head. "You'll be sorry for this," he warned. With that and a malevolent glance at Susan, he strode angrily from the barn.

  She was still visibly shaken. Her knees had collapsed under her when Luke pulled Rod away, but she rose and steadied herself with a hand on the wall. Her breathing was a little ragged, and she was fighting for control. She hated being the cause of trouble between Luke and one of his ranch hands. It was humiliating and unfair. It wasn't her fault the cowboy was an arrogant jerk.

  Luke's eyes were turbulent as he turned them on her. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, making no move to comfort her.