Wild Western Women Boxed Set

by Kirsten Osbourne

  “What is going on? Why are you pounding on my door, and why are you shouting?” With jerky movements, she dried her hands on a towel, then slung it over her shoulder, her lips firm.

  Rusty grabbed Rachel’s hand and tugged. “Come with me.”

  She tugged back. “I will not.”

  He fisted his hands on his hips and glared at her. “You will come with me unless you want the entire ranch to hear our personal business.”

  “We have no personal business, Mr. McIntyre.”

  “Fine.” Giving her a tight smile, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorway. “Then we’ll have this conversation right here.”

  “Ma? What’s the matter?” Will wandered to the front door, a frown on his face.

  “Well?” Rusty smirked.

  “Nothing is the matter, sweetie.” Rachel scowled at Rusty. “All right. Just let me turn off the water. I was washing dishes. I don’t see what you’re all so fired up about.” She returned to the kitchen while Rusty waited on the front porch.

  When Big Bob told him he needed to find another cook because Rachel was moving into town, it took all of his control not to snap at the man and punch his fist into the wall. It was bad enough that she wouldn’t give him the time of day, but to leave her job—and him—without settling their differences was not something he intended to ignore.

  “Mr. McIntyre. Is something wrong?” Will looked up to him with wide eyes as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

  “No, son. I just need to talk to your ma a bit.”

  Rachel appeared at the door, minus her apron and towel. She ruffled Will’s hair, then bent to give him a kiss on his cheek. “Go on back inside, and finish your schoolwork. I won’t be long.” She dared Rusty with her eyes to dispute her statement.

  They walked in silence around the back of the house and to the fields the men had left just a couple of hours ago. The smell of newly cut hay was still in the air, reminding him once again why he loved ranch life. And to think with a few years of hard work, this would be his.

  He’d already given Big Bob the bulk of his savings as a down payment. The man’s lawyer had drawn up the agreement, outlining the amount of each quarterly payment, and the number of years to pay it off. Comfortable with the terms, Rusty had cheerfully signed and handed Big Bob the bank draft.

  He still couldn’t believe his luck in having Big Bob decide to sell the place. Now if he could only get this mess with Rachel straightened out, his life would be exactly where he wanted it. For years he didn’t want to get tied up with another woman. But Rachel changed all that.

  Their one time together had convinced him she was right for him, and they could have a good life together. And, as hard as it had been to allow himself to admit it, he loved her. Something he probably hadn’t picked the best time to blurt out to her, however.

  He cast her a sideways glance. If the look on her face was any indication of how this conversation would go, they wouldn’t be standing in front of a preacher any time soon. She stared straight ahead, her body rigid. Despite her obvious annoyance with what she probably labeled his high-handedness, she still had the ability to raise his temperature and send all his blood to one place.

  A slight breeze lifted the curls on her neck that had escaped her bun. Her cheeks, flushed from the walk and her anger, reminded him of how she looked in the throes of passion. Hopefully he would get to see her that way again. He mentally undressed her, remembering the curves, softness, and warmth of her body. His hands itched to cup her breasts and kiss her tight nipples.

  If he didn’t get himself under control, he would incur her wrath even more by throwing her down on the ground and having his way with her.

  “I think we’ve walked far enough.” Best to get the conversation started while he still had most of his faculties.

  Rachel stopped so abruptly he walked past her a few steps before he realized she’d halted. “So, tell me what it was that had you banging on my door like the sheriff.”

  He took her hand in his, and while she didn’t pull it away, she looked over his shoulder, her attention riveted on something behind him. He cupped her chin with his other hand and turned her head toward him. “Rachel, why did you tell Big Bob that you were leaving this job and moving into town?”

  “Had I known your question was going to be so easy, I could have answered it at the front door. I told Big Bob I was leaving my job here and moving into town because I am leaving my job here and moving into town.” She raised her eyebrows. “Can I go home now?”

  He couldn’t help himself. He shifted his body and wrapped his hand around her neck, tugging her closer. His head descended and he covered her lips with his. In an instant he knew he’d come home. Her mouth was sweet, warm, and soft. He could lose himself in her sweetness and never look to escape. She was his, and the need to put his stamp on her, to let the world know without a doubt to whom she belonged, burned like a fire in his belly.

  Whatever it took, he would convince Rachel to marry him. And that he needed to accomplish it before her brother arrived with a shotgun aimed at his back.

  She stiffened and wiggled her two hands between them, shoving against his chest. “No. Stop.”

  He released her lips and kissed the soft skin under her ear, down to her neck and along her jawline. His palms slid up and down her arms, and he grasped her shoulders. “Oh, darlin’, you are so sweet. I can’t get enough of you.”

  She gave him one strong shove. “I said, stop it!”

  Rusty rested his hands on his hips and hung his head, his eyes closed. He wouldn’t get anywhere with her if he didn’t stop. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise to behave myself.” He looked up fast enough to see the hunger in her own eyes before she quickly shifted her glance.

  “I don’t see the point of this. I have no intention of allowing a man to court me who doesn’t trust me.” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. “I won’t do it.”

  He was losing her fast. The change in her as she withdrew told him he wouldn’t get anywhere trying to push. But he needed time. Time she wouldn’t give him. But perhaps he had to let her go to win her back. It sounded stupid to him, but at this point she wasn’t giving him a choice. “When are you moving to town?”

  The surprise showed on her face. Maybe letting her go was the best way to win her back.

  “As soon as the new cook can be hired. Since you’re the boss—not that you saw fit to tell me—you’ll have to let me know when I can leave.”

  He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear. “If I had my way, darlin’—never.”

  She narrowed her eyes, the sudden change causing him to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. God, how he loved her moods. From spitfire to sedate, from playful to somber.

  Tamping down his amusement, he said, “Never mind. I’ll walk you back.”

  Despite their disagreement, she allowed him to tuck her arm into his as they strolled back. The moon had climbed over the tops of the trees while they’d been out. Rachel in the moonlight was a vision of loveliness. Even with her stained work dress and disheveled hair.

  As they reached her front door, he turned her to him and wrapped his arms around her waist. “What about Amelia?”

  “I think she is better off here with you. She can continue to work with Mac and the new cook. She enjoys that. And you’re her father. She needs you, even though she doesn’t think so.”

  “And Will?”

  “I haven’t told him yet.” She stared off in the distance, the pain of a parent denying her child something he wanted evident on her face. “He will be upset. But I don’t want him to have this life. I want him to go to college.”

  Rusty sighed and released her. “You’re his mother, but honey, you’re going to have a problem with that boy. He loves the ranch, loves the life. I know he’s young, but I can see it’s in his blood.”

  She tightened her lips. “Yes. I’m his mother, and I want what’s best for him.”r />
  “For him? Or for you? I get the feeling you think he can make up for something you missed out on and now regret.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Will is my son, and my problem.” She pointed her finger at his chest. “You have your own daughter to be concerned about. Be sure she gets to school every day.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned and managed to get a slight smile out of her before she opened the door and entered the house, closing the door softly, leaving him frustrated and not sure what to do next.

  Chapter Twelve

  The bell over the pharmacy door chimed, giving notice that a customer had entered the store. Rusty caught Michael’s eye as the pharmacist spoke with an older woman at the counter. Michael nodded briefly and returned to his conversation.

  Rusty wandered the store, filled with shelves of medicine and other items for sale. Neatly arranged stacks of paper, a cup full of pencils, artfully arranged hair ribbons and jars of candy gave the store a sense of tidiness. He studied one shelf with bottles of Papine, Cannabis, nerve tonic pills, and something called Sugar Lead with the warning poison on it.

  Michael wished his customer a good day and walked from behind the counter to Rusty. “What brings you here today? And when is the wedding?”

  Rusty pushed the brim of his hat back with his thumb and shrugged. “I’m sorry to say I’m getting nowhere with your very stubborn sister. Did you know she left her job at the ranch and is now cooking for the Café?”

  “Yes, I know. My sister Ellie was in the other day and she told me Rachel is staying at Mrs. Beamer’s boardinghouse where Ellie has her room.” Michael tightened his lips and shook his head. “Rachel’s been the cook for Big Bob since Billy died years ago.”

  “She fed me some nonsense about wanting to be in town closer to the school so Will wouldn’t miss any days when the bad weather hit.”

  “What did Big Bob say about it?”

  “Actually, Big Bob and his wife have left Oklahoma and set up housekeeping in Arizona Territory. Mrs. Richardson’s doctor suggested the air might be better for her arthritis there.”

  “And the ranch?”

  “I worked out an arrangement with Big Bob to buy the place.”

  Michael let out a low whistle. “Congratulations. That’s quite a spread.”

  “I know. I still can’t figure out why I was so lucky. I imagine it’s a case of being in the right place at the right time. It will require a heck of a lot of hard work to get it paid off. I had to let some of the men go because I needed a leaner payroll in order to make payments to Big Bob. I want it to be free and clear as soon as possible.”

  “From what I’ve seen, you are certainly up to the challenge.”

  “Yeah, too bad I don’t seem to be up to the challenge of convincing your sister to marry me.” He’d made numerous visits to the café since Rachel moved out two weeks ago. She was always too busy to talk to him, and refused outright his invitations to go to supper, or even for a walk after she finished work. He’d spent more time than he could afford to running back and forth between the ranch and town.

  The harder she fought him, the more determined he became to win her over. Now that he was living in the big house, all he could think about was having her and Will there with him. He and Amelia had reached an arrangement of sorts. If it hadn’t been for her love of cooking and helping Mac, they might have had more problems. He had opted to let just Amelia and Mac take over the cooking. Another way to trim the budget. Amelia was happy.

  And he was miserable.

  “I haven’t forgotten how you sullied my sister.” Michael crossed his arms over his chest.

  Rusty spoke through gritted teeth. “That is precisely why I’m here. I need some help. Your sister is as stubborn as Old Man Weasly’s mule.”

  They stared at each other like two gunslingers, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

  Michael shrugged. “Fine. I’ll talk to Rachel, but I’m warning you, this better get resolved fast. I’m not against dragging her to the altar, but I think my sister deserves a better wedding. Hell, she deserves a better husband, but it looks like you’re what we’re stuck with.”

  “Thanks. I guess.” Rusty spun on his heel and made his way out of the store just as a young woman with a baby on her hip entered. “Ma’am.” He tipped his hat and stepped onto the boardwalk.

  ***

  Rachel slowly climbed the steps of Mrs. Beamer’s boardinghouse. Despite Ellie’s prodding, she wouldn’t tell her why she gave up her job. Having Michael involved in this mess was bad enough. She had told her sister it was time for a change. Of course, Ellie hadn’t believed her.

  Since the Café closed for the day after lunch, her workday was over before supper, so she was able to spend time with Will, helping with homework and trying to adjust to her new life. Wearily, she made her way up the stairs and continued on down the hallway to her bedroom.

  It hadn’t taken her long to realize she’d acted in haste, and this was probably not one of her better decisions. Not that she had any intention of forgiving Mr. McIntyre. His accusations still stung. But giving up a nice job, moving out of a comfortable home, and making her son unhappy had probably not been the right thing to do.

  Her son. Now there was a problem in the making. Will had balked, stomped around, and eventually cried when she told him they were moving. She handled his temper quite well, but his tears tore her up.

  He was now in full rebellion mode, dragging his feet each morning in getting ready for school, denying he had homework when she knew differently, and answering her with quick, one-word remarks. No matter. She needed to make the best of this. Hopefully, she could tuck a little bit away and maybe buy a small house one day.

  She flopped on her bed, and cursed the man who had driven her to this. She should have stuck to her guns and kept him out of her life. She rolled to one side, and tucked her hands under her cheek. Without conscious thought, the good memories drifted into her mind. The looks Rusty had given her that burned through her clothes. The way he treated Will like his own son. His tender touches, warm embraces, and knee-weakening kisses.

  A soft knock on her door drew her attention. She sat up as the door opened and Mrs. Beamer stuck her head in. “Your brother, Michael, is here. He’s waiting in the parlor.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Beamer. I’ll be right down.”

  Rachel groaned, almost certain why Michael was visiting. She hadn’t forgotten his threat to invite Rusty to the altar with a shotgun. Now that she was the holdout, would he use the shotgun on her? Knowing Michael’s sense of honor and duty, she wouldn’t be surprised if he tried that tactic.

  Well, there wasn’t any point in delaying. Will would be home from school soon, and she’d rather not have this conversation within her son’s hearing. She climbed to her feet and washed her hands and face with the tepid water from the bowl on her dresser. She ran a comb through her hair and re-braided it, flinging the braid over her shoulder to hang down her back.

  Michael stood in the center of the parlor, fidgeting with the hat in his hand.

  “What brings you here in the middle of the day?” Rachel asked.

  “I think you know why I’m here. Miss Benson is minding the store. I don’t have much time, but I had hoped you and I could take a walk.”

  Rachel’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed? You left the store in the middle of the afternoon in order to take a stroll with your sister? How quaint.”

  “Not funny, Rachel. We have some serious business to discuss.”

  She sighed and waved toward the front door. “Since there is apparently no way for me to avoid this, let’s proceed.”

  Early fall weather had arrived, cooling things off quite a bit. Summer flowers were fading and the darkened leaves on the trees were starting to turn color. Her favorite time of the year, she took in a deep breath of the crisp air. She was only too glad to leave the heat of the summer behind.

  “Rusty came to see me yesterday.”

  “Oh? Rusty wh
o?”

  “This isn’t funny. We have a situation here. You are a respectable woman, the mother of an impressionable young boy.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s time to put aside your anger and hurt and think about the potential consequences of your behavior.”

  “Michael, you’re stepping out of line.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes, you are. I am well aware of my status, and my behavior, as you so nicely put it, is my own business. If there are consequences, I will deal with them.”

  His head snapped around. “Are there?”

  “Frankly Brother, this conversation has gone far enough. I am a grown woman. I don’t need, nor do I want, your meddling.”

  They reached the small park in the center of town. Three stone benches were placed under large oak trees. Michael took her by the elbow and directed her to one of the benches. Against her better judgment she sat when what she really wanted to do was march back to the boardinghouse and stomp up the stairs. Except with Will arriving home shortly, there would be no peace or quiet for her to curl up and lick her wounds.

  “How long are you going to punish Rusty?”

  “You see this as a punishment? Michael, you were there. You heard what he accused me of. You received a punch to the face due to his misplaced anger. The man believed I was in that hotel room for nasty purposes.”

  “Do you have any idea why he would leap to that conclusion?”

  She fiddled with the end of her braid, sliding it back and forth over her lips. “Maybe. He told me once he had a fiancée that he caught in bed with another cowboy in the bunkhouse.”

  A slight breeze lifted the hair that had fallen on Michael’s forehead. He brushed it back impatiently. “I can see why that might make him susceptible to jumping to the wrong conclusion.”

  “I’m not like that.”

  “Of course you’re not. But you’re dealing with a man who was just waiting to see if you were like that woman. I’m not saying he was right, but I think you might find it in your heart to understand. And forgive.”