by Sandy James
Before Sara could ask him how he knew she’d be on that stage, he was gone.
***
The acrid smell of smoke hit Caleb right after he put on his boots.
“Sara?” The smell grew stronger, making him speed his pace as he raced to the kitchen.
“Caleb! Help!”
He found her trying to slap out the flames in the frying pan with a towel.
Snatching the towel from her hand, he wrapped it around the pan’s handle and hurried to the sink. A few hard pumps sent water spewing from the cistern, drowning the fire.
“Hell’s fire, woman! What happened?”
“I believe I scorched the eggs.”
“Scorched the— You near to set the whole house on fire!”
Striding back toward her, he raked his fingers through his hair.
Sara flinched, causing him to stop his hand in midair.
All of his anger evaporated. “I ain’t gonna hit you.”
Slowly, she turned back to him. Wariness swam in her eyes.
“I mean it, Sara. I ain’t never gonna hit you. Ain’t right for a man to strike a lady.”
Still, she said nothing, only watched him with her intense blue eyes.
Caleb wanted to demand that she trust him—right here, right now. But trust couldn’t be demanded—it had to be earned. That took time. “It’s all right now. Fire’s out.”
“I should clean up,” she said as she tried to brush past him.
He stopped her with a hand on her upper arm, then he pulled her closer and set his hands on her waist. The tips of her feet brushed his. With a crooked finger, he lifted her chin until she was looking at him. “I swear to you, Sara. I’ll never hurt you.”
“Kate always said husbands could beat their wives.”
“Who’s Kate?”
A moment of panic flashed over her features before a mask of calm settled. “A friend from Denver,” she replied in a flat voice.
“A good friend? Would she wanna come out here? There are other men like me who need a wife and—”
To his surprise, Sara’s mood changed yet again. This time she shifted into laughter, the amusement reaching her eyes. “I doubt too many men like you would want to take Kate to wife.”
“You don’t know how to cook, do you?” he asked.
“I fear I don’t. But I can learn. I’m a quick study.”
Caleb kissed her forehead. “Then I’ll have to take you out to Twin Springs.”
“Twin Springs?”
“Adam Morgan’s ranch. His wife’s the best cook in the territory. Grace loves teaching other ladies cooking.” Picking up the dirty bowl, he said, “How about I cook for now? Still want eggs?”
“I would be happy with anything,” Sara replied.
“Then get your pretty self out to the coop and fetch us a few more eggs while I clean up the skillet. I’ll fry us up some eggs and bacon.”
***
Sara stood on the bottom board of the stall, leaning over the top board to talk to Caleb as he milked one of his cows. “Doesn’t that hurt her?”
With a smile, he just kept squeezing milk from the teats into a bucket. “Don’t seem to. Imagine she’d feel worse if I didn’t milk her.”
“Why?” Everything here was so new, and Sara had a million questions.
“Did you see how full her udder was when I started on her?”
“You mean that big…um…sack?”
“Yep.”
“I saw.” Understanding dawned. “It’s much smaller now.” A horrible thought crossed her mind. “Would it explode if you didn’t squeeze out the milk?”
His chuckle was warm and his smile held no condescension. “Doubt it. Might hurt her some, but nature would win out. Her milk would dry up.”
A glance around the barn yielded more questions. “Why do you only have two cows? Shouldn’t you have more if you sell milk?”
“Ain’t a dairy farmer.” Another chuckle slipped out. “Ain’t really a farmer at all.”
“Now you’re speaking in riddles,” Sara scolded.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Caleb grabbed the bucket and poured the milk into a large galvanized can except for the small amount he poured into a bowl.
A black cat scrambled from the top of the hay bales, jumping down and padding over to lap at the milk.
Caleb set the bucket aside, went to her, and lifted her off the gate. Keeping his hands on her waist, he turned her to face him.
A shiver of excitement raced through her as he eased forward, the anticipation of the kiss making her lightheaded. She’d never imagined enjoying kissing so much and was glad this was something she could share with her new husband, something not truly tainted by her past.
The kiss was short and sweet and left her with a heated flush deep inside her. This was so new, and she loved the way Caleb made her feel as though there were no pressure for more, that he was giving her a simple sign of his affection.
Of course he didn’t truly hold affection for her. He barely even knew her. Perhaps he was only playing the role of a dutiful husband.
It was enough.
Still holding her waist, he stared down at her. “My family’s rich.”
The man had a talent for keeping her off balance. “I beg your pardon?”
Why his face flamed was a mystery. What did he have to be embarrassed about?
“M–my family is…um…rich. I’m rich, Sara. My parents left me and Gideon all their money.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
He kissed her forehead and turned her loose. “What’s to understand?” Taking her hand, he snatched a bridle off a hook and led her from the barn. He stopped at the small corral where two horses munched contentedly on flakes of hay he’d tossed in earlier.
“If you’re wealthy,” she asked, “why are you living in the wilderness?”
“Montana ain’t really the wilderness nowadays.”
Although Sara was convinced Caleb’s claim to wealth was a ruse—an amusement to tease her and perhaps learn something about her character—she still couldn’t contain her reaction. “B–but you could live in New York or Chicago or even travel the world. You could see London or Paris!”
“Don’t wanna go to Paris. Don’t wanna go to New York. Montana’s my home.” He opened the gate as the bay horse came right up to nuzzle his hand. Caleb obliged the animal with a pat. “Ready, Check?”
“His name is Check? As in the game of chess?” Since she’d seen a set of carved pieces on the shelf in the house, she’d assumed he enjoyed the game. Perhaps she could coax him into playing against her. Although it wasn’t her favorite way to pass time, it might be something they could share.
“Yes, ma’am.” Caleb put the bit in the horse’s mouth and fit the bridle around his ears. Then he jumped on its back and held his hand down to her. “Wanna ride around? I can show you our farm.”
“I thought you told me it wasn’t a farm.” Sara wanted to stall long enough for him to give up the idea. “How did you parents earn their wealth?”
She was sure he hadn’t seen her relief that he’d taken her home in a wagon rather than on horseback. Living in Denver, she’d been able to avoid any chance at having to ride. But Montana was her home now, and she’d need to ride. Somehow she’d have to conquer her fear.
“They got lucky in the gold fields,” he replied. “This is a small farm. Just big enough to feed us without relying on the other folks. That’s what my parents wanted. A place of their own well away from the craziness of California.” He leaned down closer, again offering his hand. “I’d love to show you everything.”
The panic in his new wife’s eyes as she backed away from his outstretched hand made Caleb slide off Check’s back and go to her. “Sara? Honey? What’s—”
“I can’t.” Shaking her head, she stumbled back a few more steps. “Please don’t make me.”
The way she kept moving away from him made him frown and follow. He caught her hand and then gather
ed her into his arms. Holding her tight, he rested his cheek on top of her head and waited for her to stop trembling.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a’feared of horses?”
“I’m not.”
“Then why—”
“I mean I’m not afraid of the animals themselves. I’m afraid of riding them.”
Caleb stroked her hair, enjoying the way her appealing scent filled his senses. “You don’t have to ride.”
Sara eased back to glance up at him. “I’m being silly, I know. I just fear riding—especially on a horse as big as Check.”
Although Check was pretty average as horses went, Caleb didn’t have the heart to contradict her. Instead, he let Sara go and stripped the bridle from his horse. A pat on the rump sent Check trotting back into the paddock.
Nodding at the white mare who hurried up to eat the flake of hay Caleb tossed over the fence, Sara asked, “What’s the white’s name?”
“She’s Mate.”
At least Sara chuckled at the pun he’d intended when he’d named the horses. “Clever, clever Caleb.”
“I mean it, Sara. You don’t have to ride if you don’t want to.” His gaze captured hers, and although he understood the wariness in her expression, he wished he could end it by earning her trust. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
She dropped her chin.
He framed her cheeks in his hands and made her look at him. “I won’t bed you again ’til you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
“You ain’t,” he insisted. “I know you didn’t enjoy it last night.”
A bright brush spread over her cheeks. “Must we talk of this?”
“We must. The loving is an important part of marriage. I want to please you as much as you pleased me.”
“It was fine, Caleb. Truly it was.”
“Promise me something?”
“Anything.”
He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, pleased with her quick response. “Promise me you won’t lie to me. Ever. I’ll make you the same pledge. Right here. Right now. I’ll never lie to you, wife.”
Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip.
Caleb was willing to wait while she thought it over. This marriage could work if they both gave it their very best. But if they couldn’t be honest with each other from the beginning, the foundation might not be strong enough to endure the hardships and trials life was sure to throw their way.
After a few more moments, Sara gave him her reply. “I promise, husband. I won’t lie to you.”
“Then tell me what was wrong last night.”
“Must I?”
“You must. I need to know, sweetheart. I need to learn what pleases you. I want you to enjoy when we love each other.”
A small snort slipped out.
“You doubt my sincerity?” he asked.
“No. No, I believe you’re sincere. What I doubt is...me.”
There were so many questions he had. While he wanted to ask them all and clear the air, now was not the time to expect her to reveal everything about her past. So he swallowed his curiosity and focused on easing her mind. “I don’t doubt you. If you’re willing to try—to tell me what you like and–and what you don’t—”
“Caleb—”
“No, I mean it. I won’t bed you again until I know you’re willin’ and—”
“I am willing.”
“And,” he continued, “until you want me as badly as I want you.”
Chapter Five
Sarah sat in one of the wooden chairs, enjoying the heat radiating from the stove.
Winter would be on them soon, and from the stories she’d heard, Montana would be very cold and very snowy. She best get used to it. But for now, she was warm and cozy in her new home.
She set the sewing supplies on her lap and then turned the bodice of the calico dress inside out so she could take in the waist. Caleb was correct—his mother had been a “little bit of a thing.” Even so, Sara was smaller.
“What was her name?” Sara asked when Caleb sat in the other chair.
He had a fresh block of wood a little larger than his hand and a small carving knife. “Eleanor.”
“What was she like?”
His smile made her happy. “Tough as old jerky but a heart as wide as this territory.” The smile grew. “Ma was stubborn. Probably where I get it from.”
“I fear we share that trait.” She finished threading her needle and started stitching. “I’ve been told on many, many occasions that I’m more stubborn than should ever be allowed by God. I shall try to keep myself from being too contrary.”
“Me, too.” Small slivers fell steadily from his efforts with the wood. The scent of pine wafted her way. “You talk good—like you got a good education. Ma and Pa had plenty of money, but Pa didn’t cotton to school learning. Always said life could teach me and Gideon a helluva lot more. But you went to school. I can tell.”
“I wasn’t truly educated, but I paid sharp attention to my companion’s tutor.”
His hand stilled as he stared at her. “What d’ya mean companion?”
Caleb was right—the only way to make this marriage work was to be honest with each other. She saw no harm in telling him the story of her childhood. After all, her life hadn’t been all bad. “I was taken in at age five by a wealthy family to serve as a companion for their only child—a daughter of the same age.”
“Couldn’t they just have another kid?” he asked, shaving another piece off his block of wood.
Sara pricked her finger, making her stop sewing as she told her story. “Jacqueline—my companion—came along after the Colberts were told they would never have children. Mrs. Colbert had a very difficult birth. Jacqueline was...damaged. She couldn’t use her legs and was confined to a wheelchair. Her parents were afraid other children wouldn’t accept her. So they acquired me.”
“Acquired? Makes it sound like they bought you.”
In a way, they had. The orphanage sure hadn’t been particular about what the Colberts would do with her when she left with them. Sara’s memories were of the woman in charge all but sweeping them out the door as she’d mumbled, “One less mouth to feed.”
But it was her parents’ fault she’d been at the orphanage to begin with.
While Caleb might never meet her blood kin, she couldn’t be sure. He already knew Ty, and with her wealth of siblings, they could cross paths. Sara took a diplomatic tack. “They found me in an orphanage and gave me a place to live.”
“What happened to your folks? Were they dead?”
“No. They only died a few years ago.” Something Ty had told her about when he’d visited her in Denver.
“That don’t make no sense.” He stopped carving and knit his brows. “They were still alive but took you to an orphanage?”
“It’s...complicated.” She returned her focus to her sewing, knotting her thread and biting off the excess as she planned how to explain so that she didn’t earn her new husband’s pity. “My parents were very poor. I was their eighth child. No sooner was I born when my mother found herself with child again. There were simply too many mouths to feed.”
“Your pa should’ve learned a few tricks to keep from making your ma pregnant all the time.”
“I agree, but from what my brother told me they were always a bit...reckless. My younger sister and I were placed in a home for girls around my second birthday, about the same time two of my brothers were placed in a different foundling home. The rest were old enough to earn some coin. The Colberts chose me a few years later. I honestly don’t remember much from those times. My memories are mostly of being Jacqueline’s companion.”
Returning to his hobby, Caleb asked, “Why didn’t they just adopt you and make you her sister?”
Sara shrugged. “I presume they were blood proud. They were French, you see, and had ties to the former royal family. Or so they claimed...” She’d always doubted those assertions. The Colberts simply didn
’t believe any child was as important as their miraculous Jacqueline.
“So what does a companion do?”
“Many, many things. I helped her dress and attended to her personal needs. I read to her and kept her entertained. I slept in a cot near Jacqueline’s bed in case she was afraid or lonely in the night. Often I would help change linens should she have an...um...accident. I would bathe and change her and then fix her bedding.”
“Change the linens? Are you sure you were a companion? Makes you sound like a servant.”
Busy with her sewing and discussing a safe topic, Sara let her guard down and allowed the memories to flow. “I suppose I was, but I was content. I was able to go everywhere Jacqueline went. Her tutor liked me and taught me, despite the Colberts telling him he’d receive no pay for my instruction. In fact, they discouraged it for it took my time—and his—away from Jacqueline.”
The loud snort and the way he practically stabbed at the wood told her Caleb wasn’t enjoying her story. That hinted that he was already becoming attached to her and was offended on her behalf.
That seemed a good sign.
“It was fine, Caleb. Truly it was. I would never have had as fine an education had I not been Jacqueline’s companion.”
“What else did you do?”
“Whenever we were out and about I kept other children away.”
“Why? I’d think they’d want their little girl to play with other children.”
That question required some thought. Sara had known her job—to keep Jacqueline safe. She just never pondered the rationale behind the task. “I believe her parents were afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“That other children might make her ill or perhaps injure her tender feelings by asking about her infirmity. They were quite protective of her.”
Caleb set his work aside, crouched by the stove, and added a fat log. “Then you were her only friend.”