Best of Cowboys Bundle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Barbara White Daille, Judy Christenberry, Christine Wenger, Shirley Rogers, Crystal Green, Nina Bruhns, Candance Schuler, Carole Mortimer

  Lily seemed to have read his mind. “No, Delia. Something’s not right. They’re sleeping in separate rooms.”

  Doc gaped at her. “How in tarnation did you find that out?”

  She had the grace to blush. “I didn’t ask, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “So, how?” Delia demanded.

  “When we went out to the ranch earlier this week, you know, for the candy-making lesson, I…um…needed to powder my nose. And when I went down the hallway, I passed the guest room. You know yourself, Doc,” she added pointedly, “you need to pass Gabe’s guest room to get to the washroom.”

  “All right,” he agreed. “On with the story.”

  “The door was open, and I happened to look in, and I saw definite signs that a woman was staying in the room.”

  “And Marissa’s the only woman on that ranch,” Delia put in.

  He shrugged. “Maybe she uses it for sewing, or crafts—”

  “A bedroom.” The schoolteacher voice brooked no argument.

  “Well, dang.” Deep in thought, Delia automatically topped off Doc’s coffee mug and set the pot down again. “Then that means there’s still something wrong.”

  “Yes. And now that we know they’re having a child, it’s more important than ever to make sure Marissa stays on the ranch.”

  “Yeah,” Delia said. “It’d sure help, though, if they’d share the same bed.”

  Even Doc had to agree with both of those statements.

  Lily sighed. “I don’t see how we could accomplish that.”

  She looked frustrated, Delia, fretful.

  And Marissa, he reminded himself, had looked upset and distracted. Couldn’t be about the baby on the way, so it had to have something to do with Gabe.

  They’d kept a distance during the party at his house—at least, till Delia had invented the mistletoe. And they’d mostly sidestepped each other at Lily’s on Christmas.

  No way for newlyweds to behave. The more time they spent with each other, the better their chances of getting comfortable, and then of working things out.

  Nothing else would do with a baby on the way.

  He swallowed his last mouthful of coffee, set down his mug, and said, “All right. I reckon I can do something that’ll get them together….”

  AS GABE HELD the door for her on their way out of the diner, Marissa could barely contain her anger. She couldn’t pull away; at this hour on a Saturday evening, they had too many interested pairs of eyes turned in their direction. But she’d be darned if she’d smile up adoringly at him.

  The second they were well clear of the diner, she exploded. “Why did you tell Doc and Mrs. Gannett about the baby when I had asked that we not say anything?”

  Gabe wrapped an arm around her shoulders and laughed. “Honey, we’re visiting the hardware store to pick out baby wallpaper. You think the manager’s not going to put two and two together? You think he’s not going to talk?”

  “Everybody in this town talks,” she muttered. “Except you.”

  Gabe didn’t answer. She wasn’t surprised.

  Anger at him mixed with her own guilt.

  Fleetingly, she thought of Sarah Jones. But she hadn’t told her anything. Sarah had guessed.

  She felt guilty, too, about how much she had enjoyed discussing babies and bottles and layettes with Mrs. Gannett. How natural it had felt, and how special.

  This life growing inside her was special.

  It was her own life that had gotten so messed up. And she blamed herself. If she hadn’t jumped into marriage without getting to know Gabe first, things would be so different right now.

  Chapter Thirteen

  At the hardware store, Gabe swept the front door open for Marissa.

  Inside, the manager greeted them with a wide, friendly smile, as if the grapevine had already spread the good news.

  If it had, he said nothing about it. Instead, he escorted her to a row of stools in front of a long wooden counter. Wallpaper sample books had already been arranged on the countertop.

  She took a seat and, with trembling fingers, opened the cover of the nearest sampler.

  “Guess I’ll leave you to it,” Gabe said. He stood beside her, one booted foot resting on a rung of the stool. “I’ve got to get a few things down in back of the store.”

  She looked up at him in surprise, then almost wished she hadn’t. Before dinner, he had showered and changed into a crisp white shirt and worn jeans that showed off his toned body. He looked more appetizing than ever, no matter how much he frustrated her.

  “You aren’t planning to look at wallpaper with me?” Readying the room for the baby had been his idea.

  “Nah. I’ve got no talent for that kind of thing.”

  She frowned. “Or do you mean no interest?”

  He laughed and leaned forward to nuzzle her cheek. “I’ve got plenty of interest whenever you’re concerned, honey.”

  She could have screamed. He was teasing her for the sake of the all-too-curious manager standing nearby. She gripped the wallpaper sampler and willed herself not to react. A moot point, as she didn’t know how to respond, anyway. Fresh emotions bombarded her in a struggle between the desire to escape from him and…

  And just plain desire.

  “Got plenty of things I want to do with you, too,” he continued, his breath tickling her ear, this time his words low enough for her alone to hear. “But we’d best not go into that right now.” He chuckled, then swaggered away.

  She smoothed the crumpled page she’d been holding. Her fingers were trembling again, this time from despair.

  Since their kiss the night before, she’d felt shaky inside, as if she’d swallowed a liter of seltzer in one long gulp and now couldn’t catch her breath.

  She’d spent all day in dreams, each more dangerous than the last. Wishful thinking. Impossible imaginings. Vain hopes that things would work out between them, not just for the baby’s sake, but for her own.

  Daydreams weren’t real. Neither was her marriage, not based as it was—always had been—on sexual attraction.

  She couldn’t blame Gabe entirely. They had both jumped willingly into the relationship. Only, she had wanted love, sharing, commitment; the cowboy she’d married wanted a continuous roll in the hay.

  She had to remember that.

  And the phone call from Father, with its face-slapping dose of reality, wouldn’t let her forget.

  “Just what did you know about this man, Marissa, before you fell into his bed?”

  Nothing, Father. But shame had stilled her tongue.

  “There’s a word for girls like you.”

  Shock kept her silent.

  “You’re no better than your mother, Marissa.”

  She’d gasped. “No! That’s not true! I’m not—” She had broken off mid-sentence, unable to defend herself and deny the truth. She was just like her mother.

  And for that, she and Gabe and their baby would suffer.

  Tears prickled behind her eyes. The wallpaper pattern blurred.

  Already, the baby suffered.

  At the diner earlier, Gabe had acted proud and happy, and now he couldn’t even bother to help with decorating ideas for their child’s room.

  Because at the diner, he’d had an audience in the form of Mrs. Gannett and Doc.

  He was following the terms of their agreement to the letter: he needed to perform only in front of other people. Terms she had agreed to, she admitted, fighting to hold back a sob.

  “Marissa?”

  The sound of his voice made her jump. By his tone, it was obvious he’d spoken to her more than once.

  “Got something for you, sweetheart.” On the counter in front of her, he placed a large box gift-wrapped in red satiny paper and decorated with gold ribbon and a gold lace bow. “Ordered it for Christmas. It didn’t get here till today.”

  Is that why he’d hurried off to the back of the store?

  She glanced over his shoulder but didn’t see the manager any
where within listening distance.

  “Go on, open it,” Gabe urged, studying her.

  Looking down, she concentrated on tearing open the Christmas wrap, using it as camouflage to hide her shaking hands.

  A final sweep of the paper, and her present from Gabe stood revealed: a set of professional—and very expensive—French cookware.

  For a moment, she sat speechless. Again, this wasn’t the romantic, heartfelt gift she had hoped for. Still, it proved Gabe was thinking about her and her interests, just as the gift certificate showed he’d thought about their child.

  She gave him a big smile. “Thank you.”

  “Knew this would do the trick,” he murmured.

  The words, along with his smug grin, tipped her off. His chest, puffed with pride, underscored the message. Her husband was courting her. Not because he wanted to, but because they had made a deal.

  This wasn’t a gift given from a man who loved his wife and wanted to please her, from a man who gave from the heart.

  It was an installment payment on their agreement.

  She gasped in shock at the thought, then hurriedly smiled again to make it seem an exclamation of pleasure.

  Gabe beamed, unaware of her ragged emotions and of the disturbing idea that had just shot through her.

  If his courtship was real—and successful—what would he want from her in return? Would he feel entitled to take their pretend marriage to the next step…and expect her to share his bed?

  GABE DUG INTO Marissa’s special Sunday-morning breakfast of French toast and sausages. As he ate, he contemplated the day ahead, and how he’d spend it cozying up to his wife. If he could get close enough to her.

  Last night, she’d seemed pleased enough when he’d given her the one-day-late Christmas gift. Then she’d turned all quiet on him again.

  And this morning, every time he went near her, she managed to have an urgent need for something in the refrigerator or a cabinet on the other side of the room.

  Danged if he’d ever understand women.

  He downed the last of his French toast and pushed his plate aside. Then he rose and headed over to Marissa. When he put his hands on her shoulders, she tensed.

  “Boys.”

  He said the word once, loud enough that they all quieted down. “We got some news for y’all this morning.”

  Marissa pulled away from his hands and stood up. For one awful moment, he expected her to stomp out of the room. To give his friends yet another reason to pity him.

  Instead, she moved to his side and smiled up at him.

  Sweet and natural and sexy as all get-out.

  He wrapped his arm around her, held her close, and turned to grin at his cowhands. “Come summertime, we’re gonna have another mouth to feed around here.”

  “Yee-hah!” yelled Eddie.

  The other men slapped high fives.

  “Hey, Warren?” The older man looked stunned and a bit red around the eyes. Gabe blinked a couple times and cleared his throat before continuing. “You with us?”

  “Sure am, boss.” He pushed himself up from the table and shook Gabe’s hand. His face spread in a grin wider than Gabe had ever seen on him before. “I’m buying the first pair of boots for that young’un, now, you hear me?”

  Gabe and Marissa laughed.

  “Sure thing, old man.”

  Warren’s wrinkled face turned bright red. “And I get first congrats with the missus, too.”

  To Gabe’s astonishment, he leaned over and kissed Marissa’s cheek. That cleared the way for the rest of the hands, who lined up for their own turns. By the time they were done, she was as red-faced as Warren.

  “Anything we can do you for you, Marissa, you just holler,” Jared told her.

  “Funny you should mention that,” she answered. “Actually, I could use some help in the house today.”

  “No problem.”

  Gabe frowned. He’d intended to keep busy with her in the house today, but his plans sure didn’t include the boys. “Help doing what?”

  “There are a lot of boxes and pieces of furniture in Gabe’s old bedroom that need to be moved up to the attic.”

  “Hey,” he said, “I can handle that.”

  “Some of the pieces are too big for one person, but I don’t think I—”

  “Don’t worry, missus,” Warren broke in, “we’ll be happy to pitch in, won’t we, boys?”

  Gabe gave serious thought to putting his old friend out to pasture.

  “Sure, we’ll help,” Eddie added, “especially if you’re still planning to make that Boston cream pie you mentioned yesterday.”

  “Are you sure it will be worth a day of hard labor?” Marissa laughed and put her hands on her hips. The movement pulled her sweater tight, outlining her breasts. Hitting Gabe where it hurt. And making him think of things they’d once done up in his bedroom in the main house. Things he wanted to do now.

  Not likely he’d get a chance, though, judging by how fast the boys had jumped up to help clear the table so they could head on over with them.

  Damn. The frustrations of playacting this marriage just might kill him.

  MARISSA SHIFTED position on the floor of Gabe’s old bedroom and settled back against the oak dresser. Nowadays, she tired so easily, and her back twinged from time to time.

  She pulled the cardboard carton beside her a little closer.

  They had all worked hard yesterday, emptying the room.

  She hadn’t found any wallpaper that appealed to her, so she had decided to paint instead. Warren had gone into town with her today to pick up the supplies they needed.

  She planned to get started setting up the room right away. With any luck, she could shift Gabe’s focus away from her—away from sex—and make him see what was most important.

  Their child.

  She looked down at the box of mementos she had found pushed far back on the upper shelf of the closet. Obviously, they were keepsakes saved from Gabe’s childhood.

  Thoughts of their own child so overwhelmed her, her eyes misted.

  In his phone call, Father had shamed her with his accusation that she had followed in her mother’s footsteps. And she’d secretly acknowledged that truth. Yet, deep in her heart, she knew she deserved so much more. The telephone call from Father had made her finally understand.

  She wanted to stay on the ranch.

  All along, she’d known in her heart that her baby deserved a better life than she’d had herself. Her baby deserved a happy home. A loving mother and father. A family.

  She and Gabe couldn’t build that family if they couldn’t develop a friendship first. And what were the chances of that, with the fake relationship they had created?

  She ran her hand along the box of mementos.

  She would fight for her child, would find something positive in this mess she had made of her life. And by putting words to her determination, she found the tiniest glimmer of hope.

  Maybe, just maybe, Gabe’s willingness to help her with the baby’s room, along with his thoughtful Christmas gifts, meant he had begun to care for her a little.

  She prayed for that to be true. For the contents of this box to help him open up to her. And to bring them, finally and forever, together.

  GABE QUIT EARLY, determined to get time alone with his wife. Yesterday, he couldn’t have beaten the boys off with a stick, if he’d wanted to.

  He’d spent most of today out with them, then gotten back to the barn in late afternoon, only to learn from Warren about Marissa’s change in plans. And that she’d asked the older man to accompany her to town.

  Seems she’d do anything to avoid being with him.

  All the irritation of the day before came back. She’d managed to keep her distance from him most of the time, through dinner and supper and the Boston cream pie for dessert. And in the evening, she’d disappeared before he could turn around.

  No way would he let that happen today.

  He took a quick shower in the bunkhouse, then
headed on over to the main house and up the stairs to the second floor.

  In the doorway of his old room, now filled with paint buckets and rollers, he stumbled to a halt and looked across at his wife.

  Seeing her, kneeling in front of a low oak dresser she was covering with a plastic cloth, kind of put a damper on any heat he’d generated the day before. Probably because the dresser had once overflowed with T-shirts and boys’ briefs, plastic horses and Tonka trucks.

  Soon it would be filled with diapers and tiny booties and what all a baby would need. The thought brought a lump to his throat, and he coughed to clear it.

  Marissa jumped. “Oh, Gabe.” She smiled. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “Like I hardly saw you yesterday.”

  “What are you talking about?” One hand against her back, she rose to her feet. “We were together almost all day.”

  “Yeah, just one big happy family.”

  She winced. “Warren and the boys were a lot of help. We couldn’t have made nearly as much progress with just the two of us. And it was your idea to set up this room for the baby. If you’ve changed your mind…”

  More likely, she wanted to change hers. Any excuse would do, so long as it didn’t tie her to the ranch. He crossed the room in two strides and stood in front of her. “I haven’t. What about you?”

  “N-no.”

  “I’m here to help. Warren said you’re not papering now.”

  She nodded. “I decided to paint. But I’m not going to start until tomorrow.”

  “You’re not going to start at all.”

  “So you have changed your mind.”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  “If you think I don’t have any experience, you’re right.” She raised her chin. “But I’ll learn as I go along.”

  “Not this time. Paint fumes aren’t good for pregnant women. Warren and I’ll do the painting.”