With Shane’s help and the knowledge she’d gain from this book, Dorie had renewed faith that her plan would most definitely work.
Shane stood at the bar at the Silver Lady Saloon and ordered a whiskey. With any luck, the liquor would ease the pain in his head. He’d had no sleep and was bone weary, yet he’d needed supplies in town that couldn’t wait. He’d been in the middle of making repairs to his barn when Tobias Barkley had approached him with his plan to marry his daughter. Barkley wouldn’t take no for an answer. Shane had gazed out on the ranch he’d worked so hard to build up, determined not to let anyone destroy his livelihood. So, with great reluctance, he’d agreed. He’d had no option.
And now, if Barkley didn’t find Marilee, all would be lost.
Shane shook his head and gulped his whiskey. Now he had another problem on his hands, as well.
Dorie.
“Had a rough day yesterday?” Bart, the barkeep asked. He kept his head down and his eyes focused on the cloth he used to wipe smudges off the mahogany bar.
“You could say that.” Shane took another sip of whiskey.
“Folks here sure are saying that. They’re confounded as to what happened.”
Shane cast Bart a direct look. “Guess that’s to be expected. Hell, I’m not sure what happened, myself.”
“Old man Barkley came in here last night, talking about giving a reward to anyone who knows where Marilee had run off to. Never saw someone so blasted mad. That man ain’t used to being crossed.”
“Don’t I know it,” Shane said, pouring another drink from the bottle sitting atop the bar. “I’m sure Marilee doesn’t want to be found right now.”
“’Cause of what Dorie did?”
Shane shook his head. “Dorie didn’t mean any harm.” Even though she’d disrupted his life, Shane still felt the need to defend her actions. He was angry with her, but for some doggone reason he didn’t want anyone else looking on her with ill regard.
“She sure looked fit to be tied, barging in on your wedding day and all, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Bart had said quite enough. But Shane figured he was just as curious as the rest of the townsfolk, wondering what exactly happened at that church yesterday. “It wasn’t anything more than a misunderstanding.”
“You gonna marry Marilee if Barkley finds her?”
Shane set his money down on the top of the bar. “Yep, if she’ll have me.” He was duty-bound to marry her. He’d offered, she’d accepted, both with reluctance, but a deal was a deal. She hadn’t asked for the humiliation that ensued, and he would take full responsibility for walking out of that church yesterday. Barkley’s threats had little to do with his decision. Now it was more a matter of honor.
Of course, first he had to spend two weeks with Dorie and pretend to be her husband.
Shane jammed his hat on his head and left the saloon.
His boots hit the sidewalk and he walked along with rapid speed. He’d never been the object of such scrutiny before. All around, people stared, some with curious looks, others shaking their heads. Darn, but it sure felt as though their piercing gazes were boring a hole right through him.
He shoved open the door at Caruthers’ General Store harder than he’d meant to and entered, drawing the attention of all the customers. A woman wearing a feathered hat nearly dropped a tin of dried fruit, catching it just in time before it spilled out onto the floor. The Cantara family, all four of them, stopped shopping to gaze at him from down the aisle. And if that wasn’t enough, Brett Caruthers greeted him at the counter with a crooked smile. The boy was handsome, he supposed, and about the same age as Dorie. “Hello, Mr. Graham.”
Mannerly, too, when his father was looking on, but not when it came to taking advantage of an innocent girl like Dorie.
Shane grimaced, grunting a reply.
“Didn’t think we’d see you in here today.”
From just under the low brim of his hat, Shane eyed the boy. “That so?”
“Well, uh, Dorie sort of gave the impression that she—”
“She and I had a misunderstanding, that’s all. She’s a good person. Not a girl to be trifled with. It’d be best you remember that. And keep your hands to yourself where Dorie is concerned.” Shane cast the boy a long hard stare.
Brett’s eyes rounded and his face flushed with color. “Yessir.”
The elder Caruthers came up to lay a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of Mr. Graham, Brett. You go on and sweep out the backroom.”
“Okay,” he said, apparently relieved, making quick strides toward the backroom. Shane was certain Brett Caruthers wouldn’t be waiting on him anytime soon, but he wouldn’t be messing with Dorie again, either.
“Howdy, Shane. What can I get you?” Martin asked.
“I got a list here. Let’s start with tobacco and sugar, coffee, a sack of flour and toss in a handful of those gumdrops.”
Martin Caruthers made fast work of gathering the supplies on Shane’s list. He set the items onto the counter, wiped his hands on his striped apron, then leaned in a bit. “You know, it ain’t any of my business, but Tobias Barkley was in here yesterday, ready to place a big order for some of that newfangled barbed wire. Seems he means to put up some fences.”
“That’s his choice,” Shane said, keeping the defeat from his voice. Even so, he felt a sharp stab of anger take hold in his gut. “Most folks don’t see fences as being real neighborly.”
Martin shrugged. “He was just checking prices. He put the order on hold, for a time. He and some of his crew took off at dawn, searching for Marilee. Said he’ll let me know about that order when he gets back. Thought you might want to know.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Martin scratched his head and paused, ready to say something. Shane offered the man no encouragement. He’d already had an earful today.
Finally, after a while, Martin offered, “Look, Shane. I don’t know what happened between you and Marilee Barkley yesterday, but her father wasn’t all too happy. It sure looked like you ran out on your intended.”
“I didn’t, Martin. You know me better than that.”
“Yep, and most folks around here want to believe that, but it sure looked like you ran off with little Dorie McCabe.”
“I know how it looked, but it ain’t the truth. When Marilee comes back, I intend to marry her. That’s all I can say right now.”
Martin nodded his head. “Okay. You’ve been a good customer and a friend. I just thought to warn you what Barkley’s intentions are.”
“Thanks, I appreciate the concern.”
A short time later, Shane climbed up onto his buckboard, his supplies weighing down the back end, and clicked the reins. Shane was only too glad to leave Silver Hills in the dust. With the sun setting, a breezy autumn wind helped to cool off his temper and clear his head.
Leaning back and heaving a wearisome sigh, he trusted his team of horses to find their way home. They were a good pair. They knew the way. Aptly, he’d named them accordingly.
Smart and Sassy.
Instantly, Dorie came to mind.
Shane cursed.
That girl was on his brain.
One minute he was thinking of his mares, then the very next, the image of wild red hair and light blue eyes entered his head. She was smart and sassy, too.
Damn.
Shane figured he just needed some sleep. His mind was addled. He was tired, drained and ready for bed. He needed to put the past two days behind him. Then tomorrow, he’d get back to work on the Bar G, feel the earth break in his hands, fix the barn, chop firewood. He’d get his perspective back.
He’d feel better in the morning.
Darkness descended as Shane made his way down the path to his ranch. After bedding down his horses, Shane entered his home, his arms filled with supplies. A strange smell strangled in his throat. He raced to the kitchen, dropped his supplies and followed the scent to the cookstove. He pulled open the door.
&n
bsp; Burned biscuits greeted him.
He yanked them out with a cloth and tossed them onto the counter. Warily, he made a complete tour of his kitchen area. His table was set for two, with glasses and dishes thrown down haphazardly. A bottle filled with drooping wildflowers adorned the center. A broken dish and several bowls and pots sat in a wash bucket, unwashed.
Shane stepped out of the kitchen, his mind reeling. With quiet precision, he made his way to the parlor.
And found Dorie McCabe asleep on his sofa, clutching a book against her stomach with soft lantern light illuminating her form.
He stared in disbelief for a moment.
Then another sensation rushed in, as he watched the steady rise of her breasts, witnessed a soft glow streaming onto that mane of untamed fiery hair and viewed a fair amount of skin where her skirt had lifted and parted between her legs.
Shane took a hard swallow. His groin tightened.
He brought the lantern closer and called her name. “Dorie?”
She opened her eyes slowly, gazing up at him with parted lips.
“What are you doing here?” he asked with quiet regard that belied his riotous body.
“Shane,” she said, arms up, stretching slowly like a sated kitten. The book on her stomach fell onto the floor. He could only make out one word that seemed to say it all. Perfect. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”
“What are you doing here?” he repeated, a bit louder this time.
Her eyes held his. Her lips curved up. “It’s time.”
“Time?” he asked, backing up a step. That mouth of hers would do him in one day.
“Uh-huh.” She nodded and moved her body on the sofa in ways that caused Shane’s temperature to rise.
“For what?” She had the ability to confound and confuse him, time and again.
Softly, she answered, “To make me your wife.”
Chapter Four
Shane’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t possibly mean…no— Dorie was too doggone innocent to realize how she looked right now, draped across his sofa so provocatively, and how her softly spoken words planted lusty visions in his head.
Make me your wife.
Geesh, that sentiment alone proved how little Dorie knew of decorum. Shane had learned some in his youth, growing up with a mama who’d been raised in the East. His mother taught him manners and spoke of social graces. Shane had little use for her teachings once he’d settled on the Bar G, but those sentiments had stayed with him. Then when he’d begun his brief courtship to Marilee, he’d seen firsthand how a lady should behave.
Dorie had a long way to go in that regard. And all they had were those two weeks to make their lie believable. Shane wondered if it were even possible to pull off the charade as Dorie intended.
“Dorie, it’s late.”
She sat up and a curtain of untamed tresses fell across her face, parting slightly so that her pretty blue eyes peeked out to regard him. “It’s not too late to begin, Shane. I made you supper.”
“Thank you, but after dinner, I’m going to bed.”
“Fine, then we’ll start first thing in the morning. I’ll just sleep here tonight.”
“No!” Shane blurted. “You can’t stay here tonight or any other night, Dorie. It’s not proper. And isn’t that why you need my help? You need to know what a lady will and will not do. A lady would never sleep in a man’s home, unless they were married to each other. It would ruin your reputation.”
Dorie bit her lip, contemplating. She noticed the book she’d dropped on the floor then swooped down to pick it up. She studied it for a long moment. “I’m anxious to begin, Shane.”
“I know you are. Let me fill my belly and then I’ll take you home. Did you eat anything?”
“No, I waited for you,” she answered with disappointment evident on a downcast face. At the moment, Shane thought she looked like a child who’d had her new doll taken away. It was a good reminder to keep his lusty thoughts at bay when it came to Dorie. She was an innocent who relied on him for his help. Nothing more.
Touched by her good intention, he put out his hand. “Let’s get us some grub. Then I’ll take you home.”
Dorie took his hand and after he helped her rise, he released her immediately. “Where did you get that book?”
Dorie’s eyes went bright. “It was my mama’s. I remember her reading it to me when I was very young. But then, things went bad and we never had much time for reading. From time to time she’d try to remind me of things…like how to stand up proper, to always keep my shoulders back and how to walk like a lady.” Dorie looked him straight in the eye. “Guess Mama wouldn’t think much of how I turned out.”
Shane felt a surge of emotion for Dorie. She hadn’t acted coy, hoping for a compliment. No, she’d spoken in earnest, straight from her heart, not asking for sympathy or indulgence. Dorie was the most forthright female he knew. “Your mama would be proud as a peacock of you. You’ve managed all these years, keeping food on the table and doing right by Jeremiah, taking over the role of mother with him, as well as sister. I’d say a mother couldn’t ask for anything more from a daughter.”
Dorie’s face transformed into something beautiful. She smiled with her eyes. “You really think so, Shane?”
He nodded. “I know so.”
That’s when she lifted up and kissed his cheek. It was a little peck of friendship more than anything else, but Shane felt a tingle way down to his bone-tired toes.
“I don’t care if that was proper or not, Shane,” she announced. “When a man makes a woman feel this good inside, it can’t be wrong to show it.”
Shane stared at her and sighed. “Dorie, you can’t be saying things like that. And yes, it’s wrong to show it. You can’t go kissing a man, just because he makes you feel good.”
Wasn’t that what got him into this mess in the first place? Only it hadn’t been Dorie, but Marilee who’d allowed a man to make her feel good inside—and look where that had gotten her. Hell, if that ranch hand hadn’t said some sweet words to Marilee, none of them would be in this mess.
“Shane, don’t be silly. I wouldn’t kiss any ole man. Just you.”
Dorie’s admission might have put a smile on his face if he wasn’t in such a predicament. She had a way of speaking from the heart that aroused unnamed emotions in him. He knew that kind of talk from Dorie could lead to trouble. He’d always tried to be neighborly, but Dorie had taken his good intentions the wrong way. And it was up to Shane to see that she didn’t come out the loser in any of this.
“Dorie, we won’t be doing much kissing in front of the Parkers, so you might as well concentrate on other things right off. And remember, when Marilee comes back home, I plan to marry her. For real.”
Dorie sauntered past him with her chin held high. “That’s only if Marilee comes back home and if she decides she’ll still marry you. Seems to me there’s a whole lot of ifs in your future, Shane.”
Shane couldn’t argue her point. There were a lot of ifs in his life right now, the least of which was whether he and Dorie could pull off this sham and whether he could hold everything together long enough to save his ranch.
“What’s the matter, Dorie?” Jeremiah asked, as he slammed the door shut behind him, waking Dorie out of her doldrums. She’d been sitting at the table all morning, reading “the book.”
“It’s this here book. There’s so much to learn. Why, there’s a multitude of chapters, Jeremiah. And I can’t seem to get it all in my head. I swear I don’t know how women do it.”
Jeremiah laughed and took the seat beside her, grabbing a handful of Dorie’s burnt biscuits. Heavens, she couldn’t cook worth a darn. But Jeremiah didn’t seem to mind her offerings as long as she didn’t fit him with an apron and ask him to lend a hand. “Seems that most women just know it, Dorie. Sort of like, knowing how to put one foot in front of the other if you want to git anywhere.”
“That’s what I mean. Most women don’t have to read this entire book to act womanly. Of
course, some might not know,” she said, turning to the chapter on Choice Cosmetics for Improving and Beautifying the Skin, “that there’s a way to remove warts.” Dorie lifted her hands, turning them back and forth in the air, studying them. “They may not be the prettiest things, what with all the chores and all, but I don’t see one wart, thank heaven. But Mrs. Caruthers sure has them. I see them every time I pick up supplies at the mercantile. And she doesn’t even try to hide them. I bet she doesn’t know this.”
Dorie began reading slowly, enunciating each word, “To remove warts—the bark of the willow tree, burnt to ashes and mixed with strong vinegar, then applied to the parts, will remove corns as well as warts.”
Dorie jammed the book closed. “There’s so much to learn,” she muttered. “But I’m sure glad I don’t have any warts.”
Jeremiah grabbed for the book. He studied the title. “The Lady’s Guide to Perfect Gent…ility.” He thumbed through the pages, his eyes growing wide. “Lots of big words in here.”
“I know,” Dorie said, slinking down in her chair again.
“And chapters on just about everything, Dorie. Hey, there’s a section on teeth! And on lips. And lookee here, there’s a section on hair, too.”
Dorie perked up. “What’s it say about hair?” At least that was one subject she might understand without much help. Dorie had streaming coppery hair, thick and full with curls. She liked the look of her hair mostly, unless the wind got caught up in it, or she got drenched in a thunderstorm. Then those curls would tangle into an unholy nest and it’d be days before she could straighten it all out again.
Jeremiah took his sweet time reading silently. Then he turned to her. “It says that you should keep your hair groomed. Sorta sounds like keeping a horse, don’t it?”
“Go on, Jeremiah. What else?”
Abducted at the Altar Page 4