Nora forced a smile but shook her head.
"Thanks, but I'd like to be alone."
"I think…" Richard started.
"I'll see you later," Nora said and slipped out the front door before he could stop her. Almost giddy with the sense of escape, she hurried across the ranch yard until a too familiar deep voice brought her up short.
"You can't go to town by yourself."
Squinting into the sun, Nora tipped her head back to stare up at Seth. If they were going to have an affair, he'd have to learn right from the start that giving her orders was not the way to win points.
“I'm a big girl, cowboy," she said, wishing briefly that she was holding the keys to her brand new, hardly been driven Beemer. With a soft sigh, she recalled the expensive scent of the Moonlight Gray leather seats and the hushed whisper of the air conditioner as it fanned her short blond curls about her face.
Ah well, she thought as she shifted her gaze to look at the Beemer's replacement. At least her new vehicle didn't come with staggering monthly payments. The old chestnut gelding turned its big head to look at her. All he would require was a bucket of oats and a pasture to roll in from time to time.
Shaking her head, she stepped past the man trying to block her from the carriage.
"Blast it, Nora. You've only been out of your sickbed a couple of days. You can't handle a rig by yourself."
Determined, she stepped up into the buggy and sat down on the springboard seat. Instantly, memories of another life swamped her. Everything came rushing back as she reached for the reins, wrapped tightly around the brake handle. Expertly, she threaded the leather straps through her fingers, propped her right foot up on the kick board, then turned to look at Seth again.
"I am going shopping, Clint."
He glanced off down the long, winding drive that led to the road. Glowering disgustedly, he finally said, "Fine. Then wait right here, I'll saddle my horse and go with you."
"No thanks."
His eyes narrowed into slits and she could have sworn she saw actual sparks fly from their pale blue depths.
Those eyes.
A chill raced up her spine. Her stomach pitched and rolled suddenly and her mouth went dry. Last night's dream rushed at her. She remembered it all so clearly. The sights. The sounds. The fear.
But mostly, she remembered those eyes.
The last thing she needed was to spend the next few hours looking into Seth Murdoch's eyes.
“I’m going alone."
"At least take Elizabeth with you."
She laughed at that one. "Sorry, there's not enough room in this buggy for a decent faint. She'll just have to stay here." With that, she snapped the reins in the air over the horse's broad back and the animal lurched into motion with more resignation than eagerness.
As the carriage rolled and she jounced up and down on the hard, wooden seat, Nora gritted her teeth and made a mental note. At the store, she would buy whatever passed for foam rubber in this time zone and pad the damned seat.
#
"All the saints protect us," Mike Dunn whispered as Nora stepped out from behind the changing screen set discreetly in one corner of his jumbled store.
She glanced at him and grinned. The man looked like he was about to have a heart attack. How fortunate for him that she had taken CPR classes.
Sobering a bit, she told herself that she had tried to do things the proper way. It wasn't her fault that he had such a small selection of dresses, was it? She was even willing to buy one of the dresses that looked as though it had been folded and lying at the bottom of a pile for years.
But one dress did not a wardrobe make.
One or two pairs of jeans were the perfect solution to her problem.
Practical, comfortable, and at only three dollars a pair, a real bargain! The stiff, new denim scratched her inner thighs and made her walk with the rigid, halting steps of Frankenstein, but still, they were better than what she had been wearing. Although, she couldn't help wishing that stonewashed jeans were available. But since they weren't, she was prepared to make do. Heck, once she got back to the ranch, she could find a stream and a stone and do the job herself! She chuckled gently and told herself that all she needed now were some shoes that didn't make her feet want to sit up and beg for mercy.
"Miz Nora,” Mike whispered brokenly as he dabbed at the beads of perspiration dotting his wide forehead. “You ain't really plannin' on wearin' them things in decent company, are you?"
Decent company. She wondered absently what the portly storekeeper would consider "decent."
"If you mean am I going to wear them outside in front of people, you're darn right I am," she said with a smile.
"Oh, Lordy," he said and shook his head like a doomed man contemplating the gallows. "It ain't fittin', Miz Nora,” he whined. "It purely ain't fittin' for a female to go showin' off her… self that way."
"They are a little tight," she admitted.
"Yes ma'am," he groaned. "They surely are."
"But the others were all way too big."
"Big," he repeated, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down like a fishing line in a lake. Rolling his eyes, he looked pointedly in a different direction.
Hands at her hips, she studied the man briefly. About five foot six, he was as big around as he was tall. A stained white apron stretched across his formidable belly and covered most of his worn coveralls. His dark blue eyes were nearly buried in his fleshy features and the poor man was sweating as though it was the middle of August.
Nora had remembered his name the moment she'd set foot in the store. But, just like everyone else she had met since incarnating, she knew nothing else about him except his name. He did seem the nervous type, though.
Well, she might be a surprise at first, she thought. But in time, he would get used to her and stop crossing himself every time he looked at her.
It was a safe bet that the other people in town would react pretty much as Mike had to her wearing men's jeans. Smiling, she admitted silently that she couldn't wait to hear what Seth would have to say once he saw her.
Heaven help her, she was really beginning to like arguing with that man.
Deliberately putting a stop to that train of thought, she turned to study herself in the full-length, brass-edged mirror for a long minute.
She was getting used to seeing a different reflection. And since she'd plucked her eyebrows and put on a little weight, she was fairly pleased with the results. Of course, her hair still needed help. She never had been good with hair, which is why she'd always worn hers short.
Her brows lifted at the notion and she smiled at the woman in the mirror. Hell, why not? Maybe she would start a new fashion.
"Miz Nora," Mike asked, "you sure you're feelin' all right?"
"I feel great, Mike," she assured him and thought she heard him mutter another prayer. She chose to ignore it. "Do you have any boots that might fit me?" she asked instead.
"Boots, ma'am?"
"Boots," she repeated, more firmly this time. If she couldn't have her Reebok's, she'd go for the next best thing.
He wiped his brow again, made a furtive sign of the cross, then sighed. "I believe so, Miz Nora. Just step on over here." He walked out from behind the counter and headed for the far corner of the store.
Nora started after him but paused when the front door opened to the sound of a jumping, clanging bell that hung atop it.
"Sweet Jesus, woman!" Seth shouted. "Have you lost your mind?”
She reached up, pushed her hair out of her eyes, and grinned. “Hello to you too, Kemosabe.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
"May I remind you," Richard snapped from outside the door, “that you are an employee and that you have no right to speak to my fiancée in such a manner?” He pushed past Seth to enter the store and stopped dead on the threshold. Eyes wide, he stared at her. "Nora?"
Seth wanted to slam his fist into the man's jaw on principle. He settled for stepping in front of him, blocking the man's view of Nora.
Shooting a disgusted glance at Mike Dunn, he turned his attention back to the woman facing him defiantly.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
"I think I'm about to buy a new pair of boots to go with my jeans." Holding her arms wide, she made a slow turn. "How do you like 'em?" she asked.
Something inside him turned over as he looked his fill of her body, so sweetly defined by the men's clothing. Hell, who would have guessed that something as simple as a pair of jeans could have such an effect on a man? And if it had that effect on him, who knew Nora and had loved her like a sister for years, how would other, less honorable men react?
He didn't want to think about that. "I don't," he told her stiffly.
"Too bad," she said, "I do." Then she walked toward Mike, where he waited beside a small mountain of boots.
"You can't wear those things in public," Seth told her.
"Get out of my way, Murdoch," Richard insisted, shoving at him.
Seth held his ground. "You stay out of this, Bonner."
"Out of it?” the man echoed, furious. "This woman is my intended. I have more right to a say in this than you.”
"I've known her most of her life and whatever your intentions, she ain't your wife yet," Seth snarled. "So hold your tongue or get out.”
"Why don't you both get out?" Nora said, considering and then discarding one boot after another. "I don't recall inviting either one of you on this shopping trip.”
Seth gritted his teeth. No, she hadn't invited him. But that hadn't stopped him. The minute she rode out of the yard, he was in the barn, saddling a horse to follow her. No matter what she said, he was determined to keep an eye on her. The only problem had been that Richard had had the same idea.
There was no way to prevent the man from following after him and even Seth was surprised at Richard's riding abilities. The easterner had caught up with him just outside town and followed him right into the general store.
The fact that Richard had been treated to such an eyeful of Nora's blossoming figure irritated him more than he cared to admit. But then, if Seth couldn't talk her out of wearing those damn jeans, everyone in the county would be getting a look at her.
"Nora, ladies don't wear men's pants," he said slowly, as if speaking to a disturbed child. Which was, he feared, all too close to the truth.
"This lady does, Clint," she muttered and yanked on one boot. Stamping her foot to get a good fit, she glanced up at him. "It only makes sense if you'll just think for a minute."
He shook his head. There was absolutely no sense at all in a woman wearing clothes designed to make a man think of nothing but bedding her.
Seth blinked and inhaled sharply. Where had that thought come from? His gaze settled on her denim-clad legs. She bent over to tug on a second boot and the dark blue jeans pulled taut across her backside. Something white hot and dangerous shot through him. His hands trembled and he balled them into fists at his sides.
The notion of other men looking at her… wanting her… Seth peeled his coat off hurriedly, stomped across the room, and threw the bulky, sheepskin-lined jacket over her, hiding that bottom of hers from view.
Couldn't she see what she was doing?
"What the heck are you up to?" she demanded, and straightened up against him.
Keeping the jacket wrapped around her body wasn't easy. To accomplish the feat, he was forced to wrap his arms around her as well. And holding her this close to him was stirring his juices and making certain parts of his own body sit up and take notice.
She wiggled, twisted, and generally tried to pull free of his grasp. Every one of her movements only increased his discomfort.
"Stand still, Nora."
“Let me go you overbearing, macho son-of-a-”
"Nora!"
She blew her hair out of her eyes and flicked a quick glance at Richard, still standing in the open doorway. Inhaling deeply, she shifted her gaze from him to look directly into Seth's eyes. "Are you going to follow me around, throwing blankets or coats over me all the time?”
"If I have to," he vowed.
Standing at a tilt, since she only had one stacked heeled boot on, she should have looked silly. She didn't.
"Nora, whatever's come over you will pass," he said in a throaty whisper, praying he was right. Quickly, he also prayed for the strength to hold on until then. "You just have to give it some time."
She tried again to wiggle free, but his arms tightened around her, holding her captive.
"I know you mean well," she said quietly, in a tone to match his. "But you're wrong."
"No, the doctor said it was the fever that-"
"He's wrong too."
Seth shook his head, unwilling to believe what she was trying to tell him.
She glanced over her shoulder at Mike, who immediately began whistling as he looked everywhere but at her. Turning back to look at Seth, he felt the power of those dark, alive eyes of hers burn into him.
“The Nora you knew is gone,” she said, not without a touch of sympathy. "This is me now. You have to get used to it, Seth."
He blinked, surprised that she had used his real name. But he didn't loosen his grip on her. How could he? If he released her, she would step back and Mike and Richard would be able to see… too much of her.
"This doesn't have to be so hard, Seth if you'll just relax a little."
He felt Richard's stare boring into his back but he ignored it. Looking deeply into her eyes, he searched for some sign of the woman he had known for so long. But she wasn’t there. At that moment, for some reason, a phrase he had once heard popped into his mind.
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
Something twisted inside him. If that was true, then the woman in his arms was telling the truth. He saw nothing in those dark brown eyes of hers that reminded him of the Nora he had cared for for years.
The strength in his arms dissolved and even when he felt her step back and away, he made no move to recapture her. Inwardly reeling from his discovery, Seth could only stare at her and wonder what in the hell was going on.
She smiled at him.
A broad, pleased grin that told him silently she was proud of him. For what? Surrendering to something he didn't understand?
Reaching down, Nora snatched up a matching boot and tugged it on. She stamped her foot hard against the roughly planed floorboards and nodded in satisfaction at the fit of her new boots.
Richard brushed past Seth to stand directly in front of her. Seth watched the other man lay a hand on Nora's shoulder and watched her eyes, trying to judge her reaction. "Although I'm loath to agree with Murdoch on anything," Richard said softly, "on this, I'm forced to. This costume is completely inappropriate, Nora."
She looked up at him and Seth waited, watching for the flash of temper she'd shown him to make its appearance. It didn't. Instead, she smiled patiently.
"Inappropriate or not, Richard, I like jeans. They're comfortable. They stay."
"Nora…"
She shook her head. "Forget it, you're not going to change my mind."
"A stubborn woman," Richard muttered, just loud enough for Seth to hear.
"I've heard that before," she countered.
Seth's teeth ground together in frustration. Where was the damn temper she kept unleashing on him? Why was she so blasted patient with an annoying fool like Bonner? Did she actually care for the man? Could she seriously be considering marrying him?
Well, if she did, he told himself, she would be looking for a new foreman. He wasn't about to stay on the Wilding spread taking orders from a man he'd disliked from the moment he first met him.
Nora shrugged out of Seth’s coat and handed it to him.
His fingers curled tightly into the tanned leather. His gaze swept over her before he could stop himself and he felt that hard stab of desire jabbing at his guts again.
Hell, maybe he'd have to leave the ranch anyway. He couldn't very well stick around if he started having wild thoughts about
Nora.
Irritated more at himself than the easterner, he grumbled, "Shut your mouth, Bonner."
"See here, Murdoch,” he shot back with a glare.
"No." Nora interrupted, "you see, Richard."
The blond man turned his head to look at Nora.
Seth almost smiled, relieved somehow that she was finally going to let Bonner have it with both barrels.
But when she spoke, her voice was patient. Weary, but patient. "This is who I am, Richard. I wear jeans and boots. I don't sit in a cozy little chair and embroider rosebuds on pillowcases.”
"Nora, I think-” Richard started to say.
"I know what you think," she cut him off and the man's jaw dropped. "Whatever you thought was between us isn't between us anymore," she said firmly. "I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything…" She paused, half-turned to look at Mike, and asked, "Would you mind, Mister Dunn?"
The fat man mopped his receding hairline then shoved his hanky back into his pocket. "No'm, I don't mind 'tall. You go right ahead on.”
Her lips twitched slightly.
Seth glowered at the storekeeper. Naturally Mike didn't want to leave. How could he spread gossip if he wasn't on hand to dig it all up first?
"I meant. Mister Dunn." Nora went on. "Would you mind leaving us alone for a minute?”
“Oh." Mike's fleshy features fell. Briefly, he looked to Seth as if hoping for a reprieve. But Seth had been on the receiving end of gossips' tongues a time or two and he wasn't about to serve up another poor fool to them. Not even Bonner. He shook his head firmly.
Clearly disgusted, Mike moved off, muttering, "Man don't get any respect. Not even in his own place. Ain't right. Ain't fittin'."
Once he was a safe distance away from the three of them, Nora shifted her gaze back to Richard. "I don't remember if we were engaged or not,” she said.
"We were." Richard told her, half-reaching for her.
Seth glared at him. They hadn't been engaged. Oh, he was sure that had been the plan. With all the cozying up to Nora Richard had been doing, his goal had to have been marriage. But if he had proposed before she got sick, Nora would have told Seth about it. He was sure of that. Because before Richard, no man had paid any attention at all to the Wilding Ranch heiress.
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