Caleb’s file was with Maggie, so she’d have to send Sally the information on Cassie Jones, the woman she wanted to come out here. She was taking a big chance that he’d accept another candidate but at least he hadn’t already rejected her. She’d have to put an advertisement in the paper for a new set of brides. Sally could help her sift through them and perhaps find one he’d like. Sally had good instincts and Maggie trusted her implicitly.
Rachel tugged on Maggie’s hand. “Maggie, do you want to go see the kitten’s now or not?”
“Why don’t you let her get unpacked first, Pumpkin,” said Caleb from the doorway. He had Maggie’s bags with him.
“Yes, that would be wonderful,” said Maggie. “Maybe you can show me around a little later.”
The little girl pouted for about a second, then got a bright smile on her face and said, “Okay.” She skipped out of the room and down the hall.
“She’s got a lot of energy.”
“That she does. Where do you want these?”
“On the bed, please.”
“There’s other things I’d rather do on the bed.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Stop that. You’re hopeless.”
“No,” he said soberly. “I’m hopeful. For the first time in a long time. I’m hopeful and I warn you now, I don’t intend to give up on you. I’ll see the women you present and I’ll try to keep an open mind, but I’ve already seen the one I want and that’s you. Your choice for my bride has a lot to live up to.”
“Caleb, I…,”
“Shh,” he placed two fingers against her lips. “It’ll all work out however it’s supposed to.” He bent down, replaced his fingers with his lips. “You’ll see.”
She wanted to pull away, stop the kiss, she really did, but her mind and her body warred and her body won. The kiss was soft and gentle. Unlike the first kiss he gave her. There was nothing carnal about this one and yet she felt it more perhaps because it was so chaste.
He pulled back, touched her cheek with his fingertips, then turned and walked out of the room. She sat on the bed, her legs unable to support her and put her fingers on her lips. The heat from his lips lingered. How in the world was she supposed to remain unaffected by him, when every fiber of her being screamed for fulfillment?
Putting aside her feelings, Maggie unpacked her bags, placed them under the bed and went in search of Caleb. They needed to talk. This couldn’t continue. He had to stop touching her. It was inappropriate and distracting in the extreme and she knew if he continued she would be tempted beyond what she could resist. It had been so long since anyone had touched her gently. Years. Edgar only had sex with her to get her pregnant and when that didn’t work, he quit touching her altogether except to beat her. She hated him and was so grateful he was dead.
But now Caleb made her feel all the things she had never felt before. She yearned to feel the gentleness of his touch. Her body hummed to life whenever he was near and despite her admonishments and after only three days together, she longed for his kisses. It wasn’t good that the man from the letters was all too real. Not good for her at all.
She wanted what he could give. Wanted the caring, the family. Wanted his touch all over her body. She ached for him. But like most things she wanted she couldn’t have it. It would be too easy to give in and say yes, but she couldn’t. Her conscious wouldn’t let her. This was her business. Her reputation was built on her ability to find matches for the men she took on as clients. Those matches did not include her.
Caleb was not to be hers, but another woman’s husband. He only thought he wanted her but what he really wanted was the idea of her. The idea of a wife and mother for Rachel and Maggie was just handy, that was all. She had to remember that. One woman was as good as another when they were at hand. She just needed to get another woman at hand. And she had the perfect one in mind. Miss Cassandra Jones. She and Francesca were the last candidates that Maggie was going to present before finally giving up on finding someone for Caleb. Cassandra was a redhead like Maggie, but much younger and slimmer. Cassandra or Francesca, one of them would be perfect. Right, perfect. So why wasn’t she happier about her decision?
* * *
Maggie found Caleb in the barn with Rachel. They were by one of the stalls. Rachel stood on the middle rail of the gate with Caleb next to her, both looking over the top rail of the gate into the stall.
“What’s going on?” asked Maggie as she approached the pair.
Rachel’s head popped up and she jumped down and then ran to Maggie. “Come look, come look.” She grabbed Maggie’s hand and pulled her along.
“Okay, I’m coming,” she laughed at the little girl’s enthusiasm.
Rachel let go just as they reached the stall. Caleb turned and smiled. “She’s a little excited. It’s her first birth.”
Maggie stood next to Caleb, so close she could smell his scent, a combination of sandalwood and working man. She looked over the rail at a horse and foal. The foal was still on the ground and its mother nudged it with her nose, encouraging it to stand. The little one tried and fell, tried again and wobbled but stayed on all fours.
Rachel clapped her hands. “He did it.” She turned to her papa. “Can I name him?”
“Yes, but we have to determine if it’s a boy or girl.”
Caleb went into the stall and petted the mare. “Good girl. You did real good, Starfire. What did you give me, now?” He went to the baby horse and checked it out. “We have a colt. What would you like to call him, Pumpkin?”
“Socks. ’Cause he’s got white socks on all his legs.”
“Socks it is.” Caleb came out of the stall and stood by Maggie. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s amazing. Look at the little thing. Standing and it’s only minutes old.” Maggie shook her head and closed her eyes, picturing the birth in her head. “It’s incredible. I know you probably see it all the time and it’s old hat to you, but to me and” she nodded in Rachel’s direction, “and her it’s the most remarkable thing we’ve ever seen.”
“It’s never ‘old hat’. Every birth is special, whether animal or human.” Caleb took Maggie’s hand. “Come see our other little ones.” They followed Rachel to one of the other stalls, the floor of this one covered in straw. In the corner was a litter of kittens with their mama, four gray striped and one solid black.
“Oh, aren’t they adorable. How old are they?”
“About four weeks,” said Caleb.
Rachel went in, picked up the black one and brought it back to Maggie. “Here,” she said as she shoved the kitten at her.
Taking the kitten from the girl, Maggie automatically cradled it in her hands and brought it up to her face. “Look at you. Such a sweetie,” she cooed to the little cat. She turned it on its back in one of her hands and rubbed its belly with the other. The kitten kicked with its feet, battling with Maggie’s fingers.
She laughed and put him down. He mewed for his mama and then trotted off in the direction of his littermates.
“Thank you. This was fun. Something I haven’t had much of in a long time.”
“I’m glad. You should laugh more often. I like to hear you laugh.” Caleb reached for her, but Maggie backed away. It was like a bucket of cold water and reminded her why she’d sought him out to begin with. “I came to find out where I can work and to get paper and pen. I have to write Sally, my assistant in New York City.”
He took the rejection in stride. “You can work in my office. You’ll find stationery in the top right hand drawer and there’s a pen and ink on the top of the desk.”
“Wonderful.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “When can I get to town to mail it?”
“We go to Golden on Saturday’s. You can mail it then.”
“Saturday! But that’s three days away. Can’t we go sooner? Like tomorrow?”
“Sorry, darlin’. This is a ranch. We have to keep a schedule and Saturday’s are set aside for town.”
“I get to go
to town on Saturday’s, too,” said Rachel. “It’s fun. You’ll like it Maggie. They got lots of candy and new dolls at the general store. I like lookin’ at ’em, but Papa says I can’t touch.” She frowned for just a moment and then turned her attention back to the kittens.
“Very well. I’m sure I’ll be busy until then.”
“Oh, you will.” He turned to his daughter. “Pumpkin, will you go find Cookie for me and have him come to the house, please?”
“Sure. I know right where he is,” she replied and ran for the door. “In the bunkhouse, sleeping it off.”
She was gone before Maggie could say anything. Instead she looked at Caleb and raised her eyebrows.
“Cookie has a little problem. But he’s harmless.”
“Harmless? It’s not good for a child to witness that kind of behavior.”
He advanced on her. “You can tell me lots of things. How to raise my daughter isn’t one of them.”
He reached for her. She flinched and closed her eyes.
“Maggie?”
She opened her eyes and saw the questioning look on his face and realized what she’d done. It was still ingrained in her…preparing for the beating that followed when Edgar reached for her. She shook herself.
“It’s nothing. You’re right, I shouldn’t tell you how to raise Rachel. She’s a wonderful little girl and a testament to you. She has so much energy. How do you keep up?”
Caleb was still staring at her. He narrowed his eyes but answered the question. “I’m not sure I do. I think I just tag along in her wake and try to keep her from hurting herself with her curiosity.”
“Well,” said Maggie as she turned toward the door and tried to put some distance between her and Caleb. “Do you want to show me the rest of the house and your office?”
“I’d rather kiss you.” He’d come up behind her and put his hands on her upper arms. He brought her back flush to his chest and held her ever so gently.
She stiffened and pulled away. “Caleb. We can’t. Please.”
He let her go. “I’m not going to pretend with you. I intend to marry you, Maggie Selby. One way or another.”
She didn’t back down. “My name is Margaret,” she said defiantly, “and I told you, I will never marry again.”
CHAPTER 3
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Maggie’s eyes popped open and she sat up. Moonlight from the open window fell on a room that was unfamiliar. She was lying on a brass bed. Next to it was a nightstand with an oil lamp and one of her books on it. She vaguely remembered trying to read it last night.
Across the room stood a wardrobe and a tallboy dresser both in a dark wood, maybe cherry. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. They landed on an oval shaped braided rug on the floor next to the bed. It protected her feet against the morning chill that raised goose bumps on her arms.
The knocking came again. “Maggie. It’s me, Caleb. Wake up.”
Then it hit her. She’d agreed to fill in for the wife she was supposed to bring him.
“Yes. I’m coming.” She lit the lamp so she had more than moonlight to see by. Pulling on her robe, she went to the door. Opening it just a crack, she asked, “What do you want this early?”
Caleb pushed open the door and walked in. “Time for you to earn your keep. I’ve got ten hungry men that are going to want breakfast in about an hour and a half. You better get cooking.” He went to the wardrobe and pulled out a plain black dress. “Don’t you wear anything but black and white?”
Maggie grabbed the dress from him. “You can’t just barge into my room like that. I insist that you leave. Now.” She pointed at the door.
“I knocked first and waited until you answered. Now, I’ve got a dress. If you want, I’ll be your ladies maid.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. Then something in the closet caught his eye. He brought out her light blue dress. “Is this the blue dress you told me about in your letters? The one that chafes your neck and leaves it raw for days? Why would you bring that with you? Why would you keep it if it hurts you?”
“That’s none of your business.” She snatched the dress from him. She shoved at his chest, backing him toward the door. “Go. Get out. I’ll go to the kitchen shortly, and you’ll get the one and only meal I’m cooking. Scrambled eggs and biscuits.”
He laughed and then he took her hand and brought it to his lips. Just as he was about to kiss it he turned it over and kissed the inside of her wrist. All the while he kept his eyes on her. It was the sexiest thing anyone had ever done to her and she felt the rush of heat to her core.
When she regained her wits, she noticed he was looking at her and smiling. Pushing at him, he let her push him out. She closed the door and leaned back against it. He remembered what she’d written to him. Something trivial and he’d remembered it. She was genuinely touched.
The man was going to be the death of her. She had to admit, she liked his playful nature. Edgar didn’t have a playful side even when they were first married. He’d been staid and serious from day one. Maybe it was his age, but she figured he’d always been that way. Stodgy. Dry. Old.
Whereas, Caleb was young. There was nothing stodgy about him. He was only forty and virile, vibrant. He loved life. She could tell by the way he treated Rachel, the way he treated Maggie. She shook herself. The man was like candy, hard to resist. This was business, just business, and she had to remember that.
She put the blue dress back in the closet, knowing she wouldn’t have brought it if she’d had anything else. She wasn’t one to spend a lot of money on clothes. She had three serviceable dresses. The black one, a brown one and the light blue one. It was the prettiest of the dresses and she’d brought it for Sunday services.
She donned the black dress he’d pulled out of the closet. It was her most serviceable for the work she was about to do. It had been a long time since she’d cooked for a crowd, but she was up to the task. On the farm, as a child, it wasn’t unusual to cook for thirty people during harvest season. This should be a piece of cake.
Caleb was already in the kitchen. He turned and smiled at her when she entered. “Ready to work, I see. Clara’s got aprons hanging on the inside of the pantry door.” He went on about making coffee. There was already one pot brewing on the huge six burner stove. The stove was coal fired and he had most of the burners going.
“I’ve lit the stove. I wanted it hot for you and wasn’t sure you knew how to light one. I’ll go gather the eggs and milk the cows for you. That’s something you’ll want to add to your list of chores.”
“Hmpft,” she said as she tied the apron around her. “I saw the makings for biscuits in the pantry. Tell me again how many people we need to feed?”
“Including you, me and Rachel, there are usually thirteen mouths to feed. There’s only twelve today. My foreman is up at the summer pasture and won’t be back until later. Oh, and don’t be fooled into thinking Rachel won’t eat much because she’s a child. She has a big appetite. I think she’s in a growth spurt. Speaking of which, do you sew?”
“No. Not very well. I can sew on a button, that’s about it. Why?”
“Just thought you might be able to alter her clothes as she grows. It doesn’t matter. There’s a Chinese laundry and tailor in Golden who’s been doing it for years now.”
Maggie put the flour, baking powder, lard, and buttermilk out on the counter. Then she got out the rashers of bacon and put them in the huge cast iron skillets to cook. She started to mix together the biscuit dough and get it ready to roll out. “I’m not going to be here long enough for her to grow out of any of her clothes.”
“We’ll see.”
She blew a stray hair out of her face. “We won’t see. I’m going to have you a wife long before Rachel needs new clothes. I’m very good at what I do.”
Caleb plucked the egg basket from the counter. “And I’m very patient when I need to be. I’m prepared to be patient for you.” He raised his hand to her face. “You have flour on your nose.” He brus
hed it off and then bent down and kissed her nose.
“Why’d you do that?”
“It was just too adorable to resist. Just like the rest of you. Too adorable to resist. If you’d give me the chance, we’d make a great couple.” He closed the distance until their bodies were flush together. “Want to take the chance? Live a little?”
She pushed him away and turned back to the counter. “No. I don’t. I can’t.”
He shook his head and went out the door. Then he turned back. “Don’t think I’m giving up.”
“And don’t think I’m giving in,” she called to his back. She rolled her eyes and finished the biscuits. Then she prayed for patience and stamina. She had to remain firm and get Francesca and Miss Jones here as soon as possible. One of them was the perfect bride for Caleb. She sucked the right side of her lower lip into her mouth. This was the right thing. Finding him a bride was the right thing to do. It was what she did, what she was good at. So, why did this feel so wrong?
Her breakfast that morning was a success. She’d put the bacon, eggs and biscuits on the table along with chokecherry jelly she’d found in the pantry. Everything was eaten quickly and though the men were polite enough not to say anything, they probably could have eaten twice as much if she’d have fixed it. Francesca would be arriving today and she’d be doing all the rest of the cooking. She’d have to mention that the men had big appetites.
Caleb had been right about Rachel. She ate nearly as much as some of the men. Maggie didn’t know where she put it, the girl was thin as a rail.
After breakfast, Maggie went to Caleb’s office to do her correspondence. She wrote to Sally first.
Dear Sally,
In my apartment, in the sugar container is fifty dollars. After contacting Miss Cassandra Jones and getting her signature on the contract, use thirty-five dollars of the money to purchase tickets for Miss Jones to Denver. Then start interviewing new clients. I need you to keep the business going until I return.
Fiery Bride Page 2