What could she say? Her cold limbs were beginning to thaw. Encased in a warm cocoon, parts of her suddenly seemed to awaken from a long nap.
At the hardness of his body against hers, she tingled in places she'd never experienced feeling before, and she liked the way her husband's arms felt. A heat radiated against her back where he touched her and she enjoyed him holding her.
"What did you dream about?"
"Once again, I was a little girl running through the fields barefoot. Something chased me and I couldn't run away fast enough. If I reached my mother, I would be safe, but she couldn't be found. No matter where I looked for her, I couldn't find her, and the monster kept getting closer and closer."
Martin squeezed her tightly, a trickle of awareness cascading through her and she knew it should bother her that his arms were around her, but she didn't care. She had finally started to warm up.
"Trust me, I would never let anyone harm you," he said softly against her neck.
"Why?" she said.
"Because your father entrusted me with his daughter. Before we left, he gave me quite the lecture this morning. In fact, he was very upset you refused to see him. He made me promise to protect you."
While the thought of her father talking to her husband to make certain she would be cared for and protected made her a tiny bit less angry at him, the hurt remained. This was all so senseless.
"Did he apologize for lying to me," she said. "Liars are the worst. This world would be a much better place if we were all honest with one another."
A laugh came from behind her. "My father calls it business, but I think it’s shady."
"Who knew we would have a lot in common," she said. "Too bad you had to overhear my mother in the library."
The embarrassment of their argument still haunted her. All because of her reaction, she now found herself married.
"Your mother and my stepmother are alike in so many ways."
"And your father and my father seem to be alike."
"Yes," he said against her neck. A shudder rippled through her at the touch of his breath, sending tingles along her spine.
"Still cold?"
"A little," she said, knowing it wasn't true, but unable to tell him the touch of his breath made the most unusual feelings go through her.
"We better go back to sleep," he said. "We're not even halfway. Tomorrow will be a full day of traveling."
"Yes," she said as she closed her eyes and willed sleep to come. But a burning question had bothered her all night. "August, what will we do if we can't get the marriage annulled."
Silence filled the tent. Finally when she thought he must have been asleep, he said, "Then we talk about what it's going to take to make the marriage work for both of us."
Chapter 14
Two days later, as the wagon swayed in the cold late afternoon, Warren began to worry about Meg. "You don't sound good," he said after listening to her cough.
"I'll be all right," she said as the sun descended on their fourth night as a married couple. For three long days, they traveled toward his grandparents’ home.
"Not much longer, we're almost there," he promised her, hoping he still remembered the roads, certain this was the way. "Are you cold?"
"Yes," she said. "I can't stay warm."
Pulling the horse to a stop, he took the blankets from the back. Carefully he wrapped one around his wife and the other he spread across their laps, tucking the end beneath her.
In the last few days, they had grown accustomed to touching one another. Once, he even walked up on her in the bushes. Was this the way it was between a man and his woman?
"Is that better?" he asked, climbing back into the wagon.
"Thank you," she said as she started coughing.
Like he learned from his mother, he laid his hand against her forehead. "You're running a fever. Move as close to me as you can, so my body will warm yours."
"All right," she said, and he noticed she no longer argued or disagreed with him, but rather accepted his decisions. The fact his wife's spunk seemed to have left her frightened him. The last few days had been difficult for her and women were delicate creatures.
"Next stop should be my grandparents’," he said flicking the reins. The horse pulled and once again they were on their way, the road rough as they bounced along. Darkness would soon be upon them and he so wanted to reach the ranch while he could still see the road.
In the ever-deepening twilight, she leaned her head on his shoulder and he could hear the rattle in her chest. Fear of pneumonia overwhelmed him and he feared for this woman he was starting to like.
While often she did not agree with him, she did not complain about sleeping in a tent or the endless hours riding in a wagon. The first two nights, she had gone along, helping him, but late yesterday she grew tired and went to bed early.
Every night, they cuddled together to remain warm. Curled up next to her womanly curves was a temptation he had not considered before now. Part of him longed to take her, and yet, he promised her she would be safe with him and he would keep that promise.
The lane in front of him looked like the one that led to his grandparents’ ranch and excitement caused his chest to tighten. Too many years had passed since he visited them. Too many years since the death of his mother. Turning the team down the road, it took them a while to reach the house.
The home appeared and a sense of homecoming overwhelmed him. A two-story house where his mother had lived and his grandparents still resided. A happy place where he spent so much time as a boy. Smoke curled from the chimney. His grandfather walked out, his rifle in his arms. "Who goes there?"
"Your grandson, Martin Scott. Hello grandfather.”
"What?" the old man said as he hurried toward him.
In the shadows, Martin was stunned at how much his grandfather had aged. Shaking Meg, he woke her. "We're here."
Jumping down from the wagon, happiness gripped him as he rushed to the older man. "Grandpa."
“Martin, son, what are you doing here? It's winter," the old man said as he hugged him. A tightness gripped his chest. All that was missing was his mother.
"It's so great to see you," his grandfather said. “Alice?”
The door cracked and his grandmother peered into the twilight at the two of them. "Ira, who is that?"
“Martin,” he said. "Our grandson is home."
With a cry, the little old woman ran toward him and he opened his arms to welcome her, his heart bursting with love. Why had he not returned sooner? Why had he let his father keep him away? A sense of peace and rightfulness came over him as he hugged his grandmother close.
"Son, what are you doing out traveling in the middle of winter?" she asked, leaning back.
"It was time to visit," he said. "I've missed you terribly."
"Who’s that in the wagon with you?" his grandfather asked.
"Oh, that's my wife," he said.
"Your wife? When did you marry?"
"Four days ago," he said walking toward Meg. "Grandmother, the trip has been hard on her. Meg’s ill and running a fever."
The old woman's mouth dropped open. "Then get her in the house, boy. Don't worry, I'll give her some of my chicken soup and we'll fix a mustard plaster. That should cure her in a few days."
The three of them hurried to where Meg appeared frozen to the seat.
“Meg, these are my grandparents," Warren said "Let me help you," he said as he lifted her in his arms. With a sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder, her raspy breathing worrying him as he carried her into the house and up the stairs. "Is my old room still available?"
"Yes," his grandmother said, "though now in anticipation of your visiting us someday, a double bed is in the room."
He laughed thinking his wife would probably prefer they didn't share a room, but with her illness and his grandparents’ expectations, she would be stuck with him for now. For the last three nights, they had shared a tent, cuddling to stay warm.
Carr
ying Meg into the bedroom, he glanced around at the room. A tin-type photo of his mother hung on the wall. One of him, as well, along with the countless articles about his father’s booming railroad. They were so proud of their son-in-law, even if he had remarried.
"Put her on the bed and then you men skedaddle while I help her into bed. Take my mustard powder and oil out of the pantry. Once she's settled, I'll fix the plaster."
Meg started coughing and Martin felt his chest tighten with pain at the sound. Because of him, she was sick. If he hadn't insisted on them coming here, she wouldn't have gotten ill. "What can I do to help you, Grandmother?"
"Go downstairs with your grandfather. She's young, she's going to be all right once she's resting comfortably. Oh, and you can bring up her things so I can put her in her nightgown."
The last three nights, they slept in their clothes. In fact, Warren couldn't wait to soak in warm water. Wouldn't Meg want the same?
"I'm sure she'll want a bath," he said.
"Draw the water and put it on to heat," his grandmother said. "Now, shoo."
As he closed the door to the bedroom, leaving his wife and grandmother alone, his grandfather stared at him. "Maybe while the water's warming you can tell me what's going on. Why would you marry and bring her here? Why not a honeymoon?"
Martin laughed. No one could deny that his grandfather was not a smart old coot. He'd never been one to get much over on him. "Neither one of us wanted a wedding, but her interfering mother and my overbearing father made certain we tied the knot. At that point, I decided it was time to escape from Father's schemes for a while."
Chapter 15
Meg felt like she was dying. The croup held her in its grip, and she was certain every breath was her last. The older woman helped her remove her shoes, let her hair down and removed her dress. Standing in her chemise, Alice opened the door to her grandson who carried in a big tub. Half undressed, Meg was too ill to care.
Soon Martin brought up several buckets of water as his grandmother stripped off her under garments in front of her husband. Embarrassment flooded her and yet she was too weak to protest.
Not caring that she was nude, his grandmother assisted her into the tub. The hot water soothed her aching joints and the steam loosened her chest, making it easier to breathe. As she sank beneath the water up to her neck, she tried to ignore the fact the man she married could see her naked body.
"Now you soak while I go downstairs and prepare a mustard plaster. We can't have my new granddaughter ill," Alice said as she walked out the door leaving Martin behind with Meg naked.
She leaned her head back against the metal and let the steam filter up her nose.
"Sorry," Martin said standing there looking more nervous than she remembered seeing him.
"The least you could do is turn your back," she said wheezing.
"If I could move, I would, but damn Meg, you're gorgeous," he said staring at her.
The words warmed and caused her cheeks to flush, and yet she was too weak to force him to leave.
"You're putting my annulment in jeopardy," she groaned, closing her eyes, aching all over and hurting too much to care that her husband stared at her like he'd never seen a woman's body before.
And she was certain he had seen more than his fair share of women's bodies. Known in Denver for his exploits with the ladies and not the virginal women.
He laughed. "It would appear so. Are you sure you don't want me to scrub your back?"
She opened her eyes and gave him her haughtiest look. The one she'd used on men who thought she might be easy pickings. While Martin and his grandmother were sweet to help her, she really just wanted to be left alone.
"All right, I get the message, that's a no. What if I crawled in there and we shared that space?"
"I may be sick, but I can still throw a mean punch."
"Well, now I know you're not going to die," he said with a laugh. "If you're still fighting, death is a long way from stealing you away from me."
No, she wasn't going to die, but this cold hit so suddenly, she feared she would catch pneumonia before they had arrived.
"That would be an easy solution to our situation, but I wouldn't count on it," she said. "Now that we're here, what now?"
Martin hadn't told her why they were going to his grandparents, only he wanted to visit them. For how long and for what purpose she didn't know.
"Too many years have passed since I visited. Something told me I needed to come, and I'm so glad we did. My grandfather and even my grandmother, they've aged so much. It's frightening."
With a sigh, he shook his head still staring at her. "So many happy memories are here with my mother. My father would leave us while he worked in Denver for months at a time. Sometimes I wonder if my parents’ marriage was as contented as they made everyone think. Mother's gone and now he's got the stepladder."
"Stepladder?"
What was he referring to? His stepmother? The woman had not traveled to Durango with her husband, and from August’s descriptions of her, he didn't think too highly of the woman.
"Yeah, that's my name for her. She's my stepmother and she's always working that social ladder, trying to aim higher."
Meg laughed, but immediately began to cough. When she finished, she sighed and leaned back against the tub. "From what I could tell driving here, our ranch is not nearly as large as your grandfather's. This is a nice place."
Before the sun started to set, the scenery had been beautiful with tall trees, a babbling river and fields of snow.
"Yes, and when you're better, we'll go for a ride."
"That sounds like fun," she said, leaning back and closing her eyes, wishing sleep would come. All she needed was rest. Sleeping in a cold tent on the ground each night and not resting well had taken a toll on her body.
Alice bustled into the room. “Martin go down and help your grandfather while I prepare your wife for bed. He's down there pacing the floor waiting to talk to you."
Thank goodness. Sitting in the bath, she slunk down beneath the water as far as she could, trying to hide her body from his roaming eyes. They may be wed for now, but she still hoped to end this farce.
"Yes, Grandmother," he said. Giving Meg one last lingering gaze, he smiled before he walked out the door.
"How long have you been married to my grandson," she asked as she helped her out of the rapidly cooling water and briskly dried her with a towel.
"Less than a week," she said not wanting to divulge any details about how they came together. All she wanted was to crawl into that warm bed, close her eyes, and forget the last four days.
The older woman pulled her nightgown over Cora's head and handed her a smelly mustard pack. "Lie down in the bed and then put this on your chest. Hopefully in the morning, you'll feel much better. Tomorrow, you should remain in bed all day and I'll make you some of my chicken broth guaranteed to fix you right up."
"Thank you," Meg said. "I'm sorry you had to take care of me, Alice.”
"Dear, it's all right, but you will call me grandmother, just like my grandson. Now that you're married into the family, you're my granddaughter. We're thrilled you've come to visit and you married our boy. Try to rest and tell that young man to leave you alone tonight."
The older woman hurried out the door, probably eager to speak with Martin.
A giggle escaped Meg, though it made her chest hurt. What his grandmother didn't know was they had not consummated their marriage and Meg had no plans on doing so. After the way Martin cared for her, she was beginning to think he was not a bad man.
After he saw her naked in the tub, she wondered if they would ever get their vows annulled. Still she had dreams she didn't want to give up.
Chapter 16
The next morning, Martin and his grandfather saddled their horses preparing to go riding. Anything to get away from his beautiful wife, who he shared the bed with last night. This morning, he woke curled around her luscious tempting body, his manhood feeling like a grani
te slab of stone.
How much longer could they share the same space without one of them caving and giving into temptation, sealing them together forever. Yet with every day, that became a little less of a bad idea.
What drew him to his wife was their shared beliefs about society and all the wrangling people did to show they were more upper class than you. That kind of nonsense he wanted no part of. And yet, his father and stepmother and Meg’s mother thrived on that rubbish.
For his father, everything had a purpose and society was what kept him in office.
Warren had no idea what he really wanted in his life. Only what he didn't want.
As they rode their horses out of the barn, his grandfather sat easy in the saddle on his big roan. Away from the house, he glanced at him.
"I've been praying you'd come see us. I didn't want to write you, but just kept hoping sometime this spring you would show up. Never expected you in the midst of winter."
"After I followed Father to Durango and then the wedding fiasco, I decided we were close enough for a visit. Don't know how long we'll be here, if you don't mind us staying."
A chuckle came from his grandfather resounding in the valley. "Good, I was hoping you would stay until the weather warmed. It's a dangerous journey in the snow."
They rode along the pasture, the crisp air causing condensation with each breath, yet the sun rose in a cloudless blue sky.
"Tell me about this marriage of yours," his grandfather said. "Last night, I didn't say anything to your grandmother as I didn't want her upset."
Martin sighed as the horse shifted its hips as they went down an incline into a wooded area. "The crazy woman fell out of a window, trying to escape the ball, and I caught her. But her dress went over her head and my hand landed in a place polite society is not supposed to see."
A chuckle came from his grandfather.
"Unfortunately for both of us, everyone spilled out the doors when they heard her scream as she was falling. So there we stood with her dress over her head and my hand in an inconvenient location."
The Debutante's Scandal: Western Historical Romance (Debutantes of Durango Book 4) Page 5