The Cowboy's Honor

by Amy Sandas

  After that, she needed something a bit less harrowing to read and picked up a slim manual on fly-fishing. It certainly was less harrowing, but not exactly riveting.

  She then moved on to the poetry of Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass was a bit of a revelation to her. The language was honest and shockingly sensual, quite unlike the poetry she’d been forced to read at finishing school. It inspired her to spend more time outdoors. She suddenly wanted to see the world as Whitman did and breathe in the beauty of the untamed wilderness. Montana seemed the perfect setting for such an exploration.

  Her first little jaunt took her to the shores of the river, where she sat and listened to the music of the water. On another day, she followed the flow of the river for a little way until she caught a view of the open prairie that seemed to stretch forever. And one day she went east along the narrow dirt road to Pilar’s house.

  The other woman was outside when Courtney arrived, hanging freshly washed linens on a line to dry in the summer sun.

  “Hola,” Pilar greeted with a wide smile.

  Courtney smiled back. Though she missed Alexandra and Evie, she was infinitely grateful to have Pilar and Jimena. If not for the two women, Courtney wouldn’t have known what to do with herself on the Montana ranch, especially now that Dean had gone off to who knew where.

  “Good afternoon,” she replied, crossing the grass to the other woman’s side.

  Pilar bent forward to draw another clean white sheet from the basket at her feet. The awkwardness of her movement and the tension in her face had Courtney stepping forward.

  “How can I help?”

  Pilar flashed her a look that Courtney couldn’t quite read. “You do not need to help me. I am sure there are other things you’d rather be doing on such a lovely day.”

  Courtney tipped her lips into a rueful smile. “Actually, no, there aren’t. I’ve been quite bored these last few days. I’m almost desperate for something to keep me occupied. Besides, I could use the company.”

  Pilar nodded as she snapped the sheet with a vigor that had it floating up on the breeze before she lifted it to the line. “Ah, I imagine the big house can get pretty lonely.”

  “Indeed.” Courtney sighed. “But I am dedicated to learning how to live a more independent life.” She stepped up beside Pilar and smiled at the shorter woman. “I may as well start with learning how to hang laundry. As long as you don’t mind, that is.”

  Pilar smiled. “I don’t mind at all. Having someone to talk with always makes chores go so much faster.”

  “Is your mother not at home?” Courtney asked as she reached to pull a handful of crisp white linen from the basket.

  “She’s inside. Mama would much rather be in the kitchen than out in the sun.”

  “And your husband?” Courtney asked as she tried to shake out the damp and heavy sheet as she had seen Pilar do. It was heavier and more cumbersome than she’d expected from watching how deftly Pilar had handled the last one.

  “He’s been gone a few days now, though I expect him back soon. Randall knows I have no intention of birthing this baby without him at my side through the entire event.”

  Courtney managed to toss the sheet up over the line, but then had to spend some time straightening it and smoothing out the many wrinkles. “Did he and Dean ride out together?”

  “Sí. It is not something they do very often,” Pilar answered as she moved down the line. “El jefe is more often at his desk than on a horse.”

  Courtney recalled what he had said to her about having the freedom to ride out for the simple pleasure of it rather than for some reason relating to the ranch. The thought of him being in that small office room at the back of the barn, surrounded by dust and hay and dry ledgers, day in and day out…it bothered her. He seemed a man built for fresh air and open spaces and physical freedom.

  But then, she didn’t know him well.

  After they finished hanging the laundry, the women retired to Pilar’s front porch, where Jimena soon joined them with cool drinks. They sat shaded from the hottest part of the day. Pilar translated while Jimena reminisced about her childhood in Puebla, her life during the Mexican-American War, and the difficult years that followed. Though the older woman’s history was at times colored with violence and intense struggle, Jimena described her family’s perseverance and their dedication to seeing each other through with an optimism and internal strength that Courtney couldn’t help but admire.

  Pilar and Jimena both represented the independence and capability Courtney wished to cultivate in herself.

  Before she returned to the house with a promise to return again soon, Pilar showed her the cradle Randall had ordered from New York. It was filled with carefully folded handmade quilts and soft knit blankets. Set beside the cradle was a basket half-filled with tiny articles of clothing.

  “Did you sew all of these yourself?” Courtney asked, crouching to run her fingers over the laced edge of a yellow smock.

  “Sí. Mama made the blankets, but I have been sewing the clothes.”

  “They are lovely.”

  “Gracias,” Pilar replied. Then she sighed. “There is still much to do, and I fear time is running short.”

  “Let me help you.” Courtney rose back to her feet to meet the tired gaze of her new friend.

  “I couldn’t ask this of you,” Pilar argued, obviously uncomfortable with the offer.

  “You didn’t ask. I offered, and I truly wish to help.” Courtney flashed a rueful smile. “I enjoyed learning needlework when I was young, and I do have some skill.”

  Courtney wasn’t sure why she felt such an urgent need to be a part of what Pilar and Jimena were doing—making a home, preparing for a beautiful future. Maybe she was just excited to finally find something she knew she could do that would be of some benefit to those around her.

  “All right,” Pilar agreed with a heavy sigh as she ran her hand over the quilt. “I would be grateful for the help, but I insist on repaying you somehow.”

  Courtney grinned. “Perhaps you could teach me to speak Spanish.”

  Pilar gave her a side-eyed look. “If you are anything like Randall as a student, this may not be a fair trade. And I shall not have the freedom to give you a punch in the arm when your mind wanders.”

  Courtney laughed. “I promise to be an exemplary student.”

  Pilar’s smile was teasing. “We’ll see.”

  * * *

  Over the next several days, a new routine emerged.

  The morning cooking lessons continued, followed by a little reading or a relaxing wander down to the river. Then Courtney would head over to Pilar’s, where she would spend an enjoyable few hours sewing clothes for the baby while learning Spanish. In the evenings, Courtney and Jimena would return to the main house for another lesson in the kitchen.

  Pilar said she was astonished by how quickly Courtney was able to grasp the Spanish language. Though Courtney had always possessed an affinity for languages, the immersive nature of conversing with Jimena strictly in the new language while they prepared meals helped a great deal.

  Occasionally, small groups of men would come in from the range to stay in the bunkhouse for a night or two. Jimena made sure to cook something hot and savory for them, ringing a bell outside the back door to let the men know when the food was ready.

  At first, the ranch hands looked at Courtney cautiously and curiously, giving her a respectful nod and muttering a greeting. When she took the time to ask their names and engage in a little light conversation with them, they softened up a bit, though they were all very careful to keep a respectful tone. Clearly, they had somehow been advised of her status as the boss’s wife.

  She noted the camaraderie of the ranch hands from a distance. It was enlightening to see how freely they joked and laughed and how readily they got their hands dirty when there was work to be done. Alexandra had
been right when she’d said that men of the West were unlike the gentlemen Courtney was accustomed to, yet she understood she was only getting a glimpse of what these rough-and-ready men endured in their lives as cowboys.

  It deepened her appreciation for what Dean was responsible for at Lawton Ranch. It wasn’t just cattle. He was preserving a livelihood for all these men and so many others working too far out on the range to make it back to the bunkhouse.

  In the evenings, after supper was cleaned up and Jimena had returned home, Courtney would often sit out on the porch for a while, listening to the approach of night and the distinct sounds that came with it. The odd noises that had kept her awake through her first night on the ranch had become a soothing melody that eased her mind after a long day. She felt practically content in those moments and started to believe she might actually succeed in this dream of western independence.

  Though it was only temporary, she felt as if she had found her place on this sprawling cattle ranch. And if she could manage such a thing here, maybe she could do the same somewhere else.

  The thought was encouraging, though a nugget of uncertainty remained within her. And it had everything to do with the man who was her husband.

  Eventually, if she sat in the symphony of soothing night sounds long enough, she’d find herself wondering when Dean would return.

  Perhaps he intended to stay away the entire four weeks of their marriage.

  She could see him doing that.

  But she hoped he wouldn’t.

  Then she got angry with herself for caring where the man was and what he did. Lawton certainly wasn’t likely to return the courtesy.

  * * *

  The sun was already above the horizon by the time Courtney rose one morning more than a week after Dean had left the homestead. Pilar and Jimena had come to the main house for supper the night before. All three women had been in the kitchen preparing a traditional Tejano chili for themselves and the cowboys currently staying in the bunkhouse.

  Courtney had discovered that she loved the many spices and savory flavors Jimena used in her more traditional dishes. And the chili was proving to be one of her favorites.

  After the meal, the women had stayed around the table far later than they should have, talking of food and babies and so much else. By the time Courtney saw the two women off in their little wagon, she had only enough time for a quick bath before seeking her bed. Due to the late hour, she slept past dawn for the first time since arriving at Lawton Ranch.

  The house was quiet and still that morning as she went about getting dressed. Jimena was likely to arrive soon, and Courtney was looking forward to spending another couple hours in the kitchen with the cheerful, expressive woman. Now that she understood more and more of what the woman said, she was discovering Jimena possessed a bawdy sense of humor wrapped within her beaming smiles.

  Intending to twist her hair up into the simple bun she most often favored these days, she looked around in confusion when she could not find her hairpins. Then she recalled leaving them on the stool beside the bathtub.

  She had been so tired the night before that she hadn’t even bothered to braid her damp hair before bed. This morning, it was a frightful mess of tangles.

  Drawing her long hair over her shoulder, she went downstairs. Sun poured in through the east-facing windows, brightening the house. She loved the little house in the morning. It always felt like it filled right up with promises of a beautiful day.

  Going straight to the bathing room to fetch her pins, she opened the door and came to a jolting stop.

  Dean Lawton was home.

  The air left her body in a sudden whoosh as tingling heat flew from her toes to the top of her head and back down again, making her feel as though she was in sudden free fall.

  Because the man was standing right there in the bathing room. Naked.

  Well, not totally naked. He still wore his hat.

  In a flashing instant, Courtney was hit with the hard impression of his very finely sculpted male physique. The length of his back revealed an array of captivating muscles that defined his broad shoulders, ran down each side of his spine, and wrapped his ribs. And below were beautifully firm, curved buttocks and long, strong legs covered by golden hair.

  Courtney had less than an instant to absorb the breath-stealing sight, because at the sound of her entrance, he swung around in surprise, providing her with another blast of visual perfection.

  More golden hair sprinkled across a ridiculously toned chest, and then his hard, rippled stomach caught her gaze. But only for a moment, because what came next was too fascinating to miss.

  As her attention dropped wide-eyed to that particularly male part of his anatomy, he reached up to swipe the hat off his head, bringing it in front of his groin to block her view.

  Courtney couldn’t move. A voice in her head was shouting for her to retreat, to back away and close the door, but it came from too far away and was far too easily ignored. She had never seen a man standing in all of his full naked glory before, and the sight of Dean in such a state—the visceral effect of it—had her locked in place.

  As though fully aware of her state, he casually cleared his throat to gain her attention. Or rather, to draw her attention up to his face where his expression was tense and unreadable.

  “Oh my God,” she sputtered, feeling as though her tongue might never work properly again as her face went up in flames. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had returned.”

  “I got back last night but spent the night in the barn.”

  Courtney blinked in surprise. “What? Why did you sleep in the barn?”

  “I didn’t sleep. Nettie was giving birth to her kids.”

  She wasn’t sure if her confusion was due to his words or the fact that her mind seemed to have been wiped clean of coherent thought. “Excuse me?”

  “Goats,” he replied, one corner of his mouth tilting upward in a way that had Courtney’s belly fluttering. Was he amused? “Two goats were born last night.”

  She tipped her head. Was that supposed to explain something? She didn’t even know the ranch had goats. Being a function of the ranch, the barn seemed to clearly fall into the category of interference, and after that time she’d brought out his breakfast, she’d never gone back. “And you were there?”

  “Nettie was having trouble with her labor when I checked on her last night. I stayed to make sure everything went all right.”

  “And did it? Go all right?”

  “Yep,” he answered with a nod. “It was a tough night, but they’re all doing fine.”

  “Oh. Good.” Silence stretched as she couldn’t help but glance at his body again. She noted the sweat coating his skin in a fine sheen and how the muscles in his abdomen tensed as her gaze passed over them, making her own belly tighten in response.

  He gave another none-too-subtle clearing of his throat.

  Courtney swiftly redirected her gaze to his face, her cheeks burning up again. Judging by the smile he seemed to be trying to hide, he was definitely amused by her distraction. It was humiliating to be caught so blatantly admiring his body, but she much preferred his amusement over anger or annoyance.

  “I’ll bring you around later to see them.”

  “See who?”

  He lowered his chin for a moment, hiding his face, and when he looked up again, the laughter was clear in his eyes. “The kids.”

  “Oh, of course.” What on earth was wrong with her? “Really? You would take me to see them?”

  “Sure.”

  “That sounds lovely, but wouldn’t you rather go to bed?”

  Her question made him visibly stiffen. Sudden tension claimed his body from head to toe, drawing her gaze again. The change made his muscles that much more taut and interesting. She met his eyes in question, and what she saw there had her losing her train of thought.
r />   Where there had been clear amusement just a moment before, now there was heat. Deep, heavy heat.

  * * *

  Dean knew she hadn’t meant that they should go to bed together, but it didn’t stop him from suddenly picturing just that. With her hair a river of fire falling over her shoulder to her waist in thick, unruly waves and her gaze all soft and disoriented, it was not a big challenge to envision her stretched out on his bed, gazing up at him with raw passion.

  He should have booted her out of the bathing room as soon as he saw her standing there, but he’d been too stunned at first—by her interruption and then by the sensual interest in her gaze—to do anything. It had taken all his concentration to keep from revealing just how intensely that interest had sparked his own.

  And then, she’d just started up a conversation as though it were the most common thing in the world. Standing there, totally bared to her curious gaze while they discussed the events of the prior night, he found it impossible not to find the situation humorous. Surely, she’d realize the impropriety any second and beat a hasty retreat.

  But she didn’t.

  She didn’t even seem to be aware of how often her attention strayed from his face to travel over his body. And keeping his hat firmly in front of his sudden and painful erection, he made damn sure she didn’t realize just how much that affected him.

  “You’ve been awake all night,” she added when he didn’t reply. “Surely, you would like to get some rest.”

  Rest. Right. That’s what he needed.

  “Later today then,” he said, hearing the tension in his voice.

  “Wonderful.” The brightness of her smile was as beautiful as anything he’d ever seen.

  Dean waited while a few long moments passed. If she continued to stand there like that, looking all sweet and curious, he was gonna end up doing something he couldn’t take back—like step forward and kiss the girl.

  With a shake of his head, he shoved that dangerous notion aside. “Mind if I wash up now?” he asked.