Chapter Nine
She missed the cup completely and poured the hot coffee straight into his lap.
“Jesus , Mary, and Joseph!” The chair crashed to the floor as he jumped to his feet.
She stared in dismay at the steaming front of his denims. Dear God, he was going to kill her. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”
“Hell no! I think you just took off some pretty important layers of hide!”
She backed hastily out of his reach. She measured the distance to the door with her eyes.
“Don’t you dare run out of here,” he warned.
“I was just, just…”
He pulled his pants away from his thighs as best he could. The glance he sent her was wry. “Do you always burn the men who come a courtin’?”
“You mean you want to court me?”
This time, he was the one to look startled. “Well, who’d you think?” Realization dawned mid-sentence. His brows dropped low. “You didn’t think I’d be bringing in strangers?”
He didn’t need to say it as if it were the furthest thing from possible.
“How am I supposed to know what you think? We’re already married. The marriage has been consummated and you ask me if I want to be courted. You’re the most contradictory man!”
“That’s a heck of a leap you made there.” He grabbed a napkin and swiped at the spill.
She took another breath, clinging to her patience and ladylike demeanor. “Husbands do not court their wives!”
He stopped wiping his pants with the napkin and stared at her a good long minute. His expression was inscrutable. “Darlin’, we’re further behind than I thought.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I can see that.”
She was beginning to believe he delighted in keeping her off balance. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Are you badly hurt?”
His expression was wry as he shifted gingerly. “There are parts of me that have been happier.”
She inched closer to the door. “I didn’t spill the coffee on purpose.”
“If I thought you did, you couldn’t sidle to that door fast enough to save your backside a warming.”
She stopped. The door was only two feet away. “It was an accident. You startled me.”
He sighed. “Come here.”
“I could get you some cool well water.”
“Quit stalling and come here.”
Before she took the steps to bring her within reach, she shifted her grip on the coffee pot. Her plan was for nothing. She’d forgotten how much taller he was. As soon as she got close enough, he plucked the pot from her hand.
“You won’t be needing this.”
“I—”
His finger over her lips cut off her protest. “I don’t want lies between us. It was a smart move, thinking to use that coffee as a weapon should I turn ornery.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t know what to say and since he did seem to be complimenting her—for thinking about tossing coffee in his face?—the response seemed appropriate. Dear Lord, he was addling her brain. “I don’t understand you.”
“You’ve said that before.” He reached out and pushed a loose piece of hair back from her face. She felt foolish for flinching. His touch was nothing more than an infinitesimal brush of skin, incredibly gentle. Soothing.
“It’s clear as day you’ve met with a few ornery types. You’re as nervous as a cat with its tail under the rocker, always waiting for me to turn on you.” He shook his head and curled his hand around her head. She felt engulfed. Threatened. She conjured up an image of a huge stone wall and mentally shoved her fear behind it. Not for anything was she going to let him know how much he frightened her.
“I can feel your muscles tightening.” His gaze was sharp on her face. “You’re scared now.”
Her lips were dry. So was her mouth. She had to lick her lips before she could get the words out. “It was an accident.”
“You’re thinking this is a trick and I’m planning on getting my own back.”
It took everything she had to stand still under his hand when she heard the accusation in his low-voiced drawl.
“I know you’re mad,” she said. She wanted that in the open. Mad she could deal with. Mad she understood.
His “Ah, darlin’,” was incredibly soft, almost sad, but the hand that pulled her against his chest was relentless. He wasn’t satisfied until he had her head resting over his heart and her body wrapped in his arms. She stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. What he expected of her.
“Listen.”
She waited. He followed the order with nothing. After a minute or two, she couldn’t stand it anymore. “What?”
“Listen.” Something touched the top of her head. His cheek? “What do you hear?”
“I can’t hear anything except your heartbeat.”
“Is it beating slow or fast?”
She pressed her ear slightly closer. “Slow.”
He took her hand and placed it on his jaw. “How does it feel?”
With the barest of movements, she explored. “Rough and prickly.”
His chest bounced her cheek on a chuckle. “Guess I’ll be upping my shaving to twice a day.” His hand covered hers and pressed her fingers into his skin. “How do my muscles feel? Hard and tense or relaxed?”
“Relaxed.”
“Exactly.” His hand left hers. She dropped it to his shoulder. This close, she didn’t have any place else to put it.
He tipped up her chin with the side of his finger. “I’m not mad.”
“I burned you.”
He’d started shaking his head before she finished speaking. “I startled you and you spilled the coffee. There’s a world of difference between the two.”
She was shocked to her toes that he saw the difference. She was afraid everything she was thinking showed on her face. She tried to duck her head, but his finger under her chin kept her face exposed to his gaze.
“No more hiding.”
Could he read her mind?
“I made you a couple of promises back at the saloon. Do you remember what they were?”
“You’d keep my ranch safe and you’d keep outsiders from hurting me.”
“You married me with that being your understanding?”
From the way his head jerked back, she got the impression that she’d shocked him. Did he think she was so dimwitted she couldn’t remember their deal? “Yes. It was more than I expected.”
“You promised me obedience not thinking that I’d keep my hands off you?”
“It’s not illegal for a husband to hit his wife.” Though it should be.
“Darlin’, little as most women are and as big as most men are, it darn well should be.” It was a shock to hear his words echo her thoughts. He eyed her up and down, seeming to miss nothing in the examination. “If I ever took a notion to whale on you, there wouldn’t be anything left but a greasy spot.”
“I’d survive.”
His finger was no longer required to hold her chin. Pride alone kept her gaze locked with his. He shook his head. No doubt he thought she’d crumble at the first hint of pain. Well, he’d soon find out he had another think coming. Her father had made sure she was strong.
“It never occurred to me that you’ve been waiting for me to sock you one,” he continued. “Heck, no wonder you were so interested in my stepping between the blacksmith and that little boy.”
She took immediate offense. He made it sound like she was some beaten cur, crawling with its tail tucked between its legs. “I haven’t been waiting.”
“It hadn’t occurred to me,” he went on, ignoring the interruption, “because I don’t hit women, I don’t kick dogs, and I don’t beat on little kids.”
Did he think she was going to swallow that line of bull? “Everyone gets mad.”
“Yes. They do. When I get mad, I yell.” He winced. “A lot. When I get so mad I think I’m going to lose it, I slam doors and storm out of the house. I don’t take out my bad humor on things littler than me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You apologizing because my heart’s beating fast and my muscles are tightening up, or because you believe you’ve been insulting me regularly for the last day or so?”
She ducked his gaze, not wanting him to read the truth in hers. “Both.”
“How about we make a deal?”
“What?”
“Bring your gaze back up here, darlin’.”
She figured if she didn’t, he’d be pushing it up with his finger. That and the fact that she didn’t want him thinking she was a coward were the only reasons she met his serious gaze with hers.
“How about we put aside the thought that we’re married and you let me court you with all the courting rules in place?”
“What’s the point in that?”
“The point is that I don’t like having to walk on egg shells, and I don’t imagine you do either. It means that I like the way we worked together in the barn a whole lot more. I’d like to have more of those moments rather than those stiff formal ones I keep running up against. The only way you’re going to be comfortable with me is to get to know me without feeling pressured.”
“Courting couples don’t share a bed.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“But men want,” she paused, decided this wasn’t the time for modesty, and plunged on through her inhibitions. “You’ll want to share a bed.”
He shook his head as if she were dimwitted. “I’m not saying I won’t want to spark, but I got to be honest, darlin’. The next time we go to bed, I’d like to feel I’m making love to my wife and not forcing her.”
What game was he up to now? His eyes were a mellow gray. His chest relaxed against hers. There was no sign this was a trick, but she knew it had to be. If Asa weren’t so much a man, she’d have started thinking he was one of those sissies in the dime novel she’d read once. She’d stopped believing that nonsense the day her father had caught her in the hayloft reading one. He’d spent the next month showing her the way of the real world. She’d come to understand quickly the only use a real man had for soft womanly emotions was to use them as a weapon against a woman. Like Brent had used them against her.
“Courting me isn’t necessary,” she told Asa. “You didn’t force me and it’s ludicrous to feel like you did.”
His head was shaking before she got to the last syllable. “It doesn’t set well with me. I don’t want to be telling my son that I all but raped his mother.”
“You didn’t rape me!” He wasn’t going to lay that guilt on her.
“I know you gave permission, but it still isn’t a night I’m building fond memories on.”
“I did my best. If you’d told me what you wanted…”
“I’m not placing blame.” He put his fingers over her lips, halting her instant retort. “You did what you had to do to save the ranch. I did what I had to do to keep the ranch. We did what was necessary to seal a business deal. But we didn’t begin a marriage.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes. You do.”
“Mr. MacIntyre…”
“Asa.”
She took a breath and counted to ten. She had to talk him out of this lunacy. “Mr. MacIntyre, I fail to see what’s wrong with what we have now. It’s a clear-cut business arrangement based on mutual understanding. You know where you stand and I know where I stand. That we enjoy each other occasionally is an unexpected plus.”
“There you go again, getting all formal on me. It was good between us in the barn. And I’m not talking about grooming Shameless, but the minute it was over, you started making me out to be a stranger.”
“I don’t think of you as a stranger.”
“I’m not going to argue with you. I’m ordering you to think on some courting rules. I want you to think on what you need to be comfortable, and then I want you to pass that on to me.”
“You want me to direct the course of our…courtship?” Why hadn’t any of the rumors that preceded the man indicated he was loonier than a bed bug?
“Yup.”
“What if you don’t like what I’ve decided?”
He flashed her a grin. “Then, like every young buck who’s ever come a courtin’, I’ll do my best to change your mind.”
“You’re serious.” My God, she couldn’t believe it!
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“We’re married. To me, that’s a once in a lifetime thing. I’ve seen other couples who’ve made a marriage work. Seems the one thing they have in common is they’re comfortable with each other. We got the cart before the horse here, but it’s fixable.”
“So your plan is to fix it by courting me?”
“Yup.”
“According to my rules?”
“You got a better plan?”
“No.” But she wasn’t sure she liked this one. There were too many risks. All on her side.
“Then I say we go with mine.”
“How much time do I have?”
“For what?”
“To come up with a plan.”
“Do you think you’ll be needing more than a day or two?”
There had to be a way his offer could work for her. If she thought on it hard enough, she’d come up with a plan of her own. “I think two days would be sufficient.”
“Good.” He took a step back. For the first time since he’d touched her, she felt like she could breathe. “I’m going to change clothes.”
“I’ll finish the biscuits,” she told him as he stretched. His shirt caved in over his stomach. She decided to make up another batch. The man was still awfully lean.
He brought his arms down. “After supper, I’d like to take a look at your records.”
“They’re in the study.” She watched as he strolled to the door. The depth of his tiredness showed in the set of his shoulders. “Would you like some salad greens with supper? I think there are still some in the garden.”
“That’d be fine.”
She watched as he left the room. A slight limp indicated his discomfort. Whether she’d really burned him or if it was the fact that the wet denim clung uncomfortably, she wasn’t sure. She felt guilty either way.
She turned her attention to supper. She had some buttermilk left from this morning. She’d make a special dressing for the salad. Buttermilk was supposed to be very nourishing.
Wiping her hands nervously on her apron, she went back to the biscuits, her mind in turmoil. She only had two days to figure out how to handle this. She couldn’t lose anymore ground. She couldn’t.
* * * * *
Two days later, Asa sat in the study, going over the books for the hundredth time, but the facts didn’t change. The ranch was on the edge of bankruptcy, that much was clear. What was a surprise was that someone had clearly had a hand in putting it on the edge. Every time a bank note came due, there’d been a disaster with the cattle. A well had been poisoned. Rustlers had struck. Cattle had been driven off. Hands couldn’t be hired. It had been going on for the last year, not just the last few months. Someone wanted the Rocking C to go under. If he wanted to pull the place out of bankruptcy, he was going to have to smoke out the sneaky, yellow-bellied S.O.B and show him the error of his ways. He was in the process of making a list of suspects when the knock came at the door.
He closed the account books and pinched the bridge of his nose. No doubt it was Elizabeth coming to deliver her rules. While most women would be thrilled he’d given them time, Elizabeth was appalled. It was hard to miss. The last couple of days, she’d been as skittish as a newborn deer. If he had a penny for every I-don’t-understand-you glance she’d sent his way, the Rocking C would be solvent. Every courtesy he’d extended, like sleeping in another room, seemed to give birth to more confusion until he’d thought the woman would explode, she’d gotten herself so worked up.
God help him, he was beginning to suspect that Old Sam’s statement in the bar that “Coyote Bill brought Elizabeth up rough” hadn’t referred to a lack of dresses. The woman’s distrust of men and any kindness they extended went bone deep. Asa had a feeling Brent’s part in Elizabeth’s distrust was more along the line of confirming rather than creating. He placed his pen on the desk top, checked to make sure no incriminating notes were lying about, and called for her to enter. Last thing he wanted was for her to start worrying he couldn’t pull the Rocking C out of this mess.
The door opened and she sailed in, head high, shoulders back, a sure sign she was ready to fight. She nodded her head. “Mr. MacIntyre.”
She was using his full name again. He wondered if she knew how it made his blood heat. When she said it all prim and proper like that, he wanted to lay her down and kiss her until she admitted he was Asa, her husband, someone she cared about.
“I thought we’d settled on you calling me Asa?”
She wrung her hands, seemed to realize what she was doing, and stopped. “I’m sorry. This whole marriage is taking some getting used to.”
He relaxed into the high-backed chair. The stuffed leather seat welcomed his weight like a lover. Taking over the Rocking C did have its compensations. “In time, we’ll get used to each other.”
From the look she sent him, he guessed she didn’t agree. She licked her lips. “I’ve come to a decision.”
“You sure you took enough time?”
“Two days was plenty.”
“Let’s hear it then.”
“You’ve been very considerate in keeping your distance.”
He smiled, hearing it put like that. Sounded like he was a real gentleman, instead of being drowned in work, spending twelve hours a day eking as much out of the daylight as he could before coming home and dropping exhausted into the spare bed, only to repeat the same procedure the next day. “Thank you.”
Her hands commenced to clench and unclench in the folds in her skirt. “But I don’t feel that’s the best way for us to proceed.”
She had his attention now. “You don’t?”
“No.” If her fingers picked up any more speed, she was going to spend an hour pressing that skirt.
“What do you suggest?”
Her gaze seemed to lock on a point just to the right of his shoulder. “I’m well aware men have needs that need to be met regularly.”
“You are?”
“Please, don’t make fun of me, Mr. MacIntyre. This is a very embarrassing subject and I’m doing my best to get through it.”
“My apologies.”
“I can’t see where refusing you my bed will accomplish anything except to increase tension between us.”
“You can’t?”
If looks could kill, he’d be dead. “No. I cannot.”
“Because I have these needs?”
“Exactly.” She was viewing him with a bit more favor now. “While I’m aware a man doesn’t exercise all his needs with his wife—”
“He doesn’t?”
She looked down her nose at him. “I may not be experienced, Mr. MacIntyre, but I have a good working knowledge of how the world works.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” At least, he was beginning to see how she thought his world worked.
“As I was saying, while I understand you won’t be faithful in body to me for the duration of our marriage, I’d like to make it a term of our ‘courtship’ that, for one month, you confine your needs to my person.”
“You would?”
As her chin tipped higher, the look down her nose took longer. “Yes, I would.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why a month?”
Her face abandoned pink for a bright red hue. “My reasons are private.”
“Well,” he drawled, “Seeing as how I’m giving up all those other women, I feel I got a right to know the why of it.”
“It’s only for a month.”
He pretended to consider it. He sighed and looked regretful. He bit back a smile as her hands stopped their desperate clenching. When she spoke, her voice was perfectly precise. “If you must know, I’d like the opportunity to get to know your preferences.”
“I get the feeling you’re not talking about how I take my coffee.”
“No. I’m not.”
He waved her to a chair. “You sure you don’t want to sit down?”
“I’m fine.”
He rose from the chair and came around the side of the desk. He was pretty sure it wasn’t his imagination that she seemed to hold herself so still, it appeared she’d stopped breathing. He hitched his hip on the corner of the desk. “Let me get this straight. As part of our courting, you expect me to come to your bed and educate you in precisely how I like my loving?”
Her nod was stiff. A bare jerk of her chin.
“And I’m to keep my attentions confined to you?”
Another jerk.
“After the month, however, I’m free to sport where I want with no complaints from you?”
This time, she managed a hoarse whisper. “Yes.”
“Well, now, that’s darned generous of you.”
“I’m trying to be reasonable.”
No, Asa thought, she was being clever as a cat and just as practical. She was planning on holding him with sex unless he missed his guess. Failing that, she was planning on relegating him to the role of scoundrel, insuring that he never got a chance to hurt her. Her cleverness made him smile. He wasn’t going along with her plan, but he could work with it. “How often?”
“What?”
“How often am I allowed to come to your bed?”
The total look of dismay on her face clued him to the fact she hadn’t thought of that. She rallied though. “I’d think that would depend on the frequency of your needs.”
Every time she referred to his needs in that prissy tone of voice, he wanted to laugh and kiss her at the same time. “Well now,” he drawled, “needs are funny critters. A man doesn’t rightly know when they might sneak up on him.”
“You don’t know how often…?” She waved her hand between them in a descriptive arc. This time, her dismay showed clearly on her face. He nearly burst a gut holding in his laughter. She was so sweet to tease. As if he was going to let her get away with neatly stashing him into a single corner of her life.
“Nope.”
She sat in the chair. “I hadn’t considered the possibility…” For the first time since entering the room, she looked him squarely in the face. “This is going to be a problem.”
Not for him. “I don’t see where it could be too tough. If we shared a bed at night, you’d be convenient if I got struck with the notion.”
“These needs come upon you mostly at night?”
He could actually see her brain ticking away at the options. He shrugged and admitted, “A fair number of them.”
“We could move your room to the one across the hall.”
He shook his head. “I’m not liking the thought of crossing that cold floor.”
“It’s not that cold yet.”
He shook his head again. “I can see how set you are against the idea. Why don’t we just drop that line? I’ll settle things as best I can.”
He shifted back to his feet. She sprang to hers, placing her hand on his chest to stop him. “No. It’s all right. I was just reluctant to give up my privacy.”
He raised his eyebrow at that blatant lie.
“No,” she hurried on to assure him. “It’ll be fine.” She nodded her head as if he’d done something other than just stand there. “It’s settled. You’ll share my bed and I’ll be convenient for your…well, I’ll be convenient.”
“For the next month.”
She nodded, visibly relaxing. “Yes.”
“And then?”
“We’ll revisit our decision.”
He touched her cheek, thinking how pretty a green her eyes were today. He wondered how long it would take her to realize he had no intention of behaving like she wanted him to. Sure enough, if she wanted to pigeon-hole him, she was going to have to raise her expectations. “Fair enough.”
He slid his hand around the back of her neck. He was dead tired, but he wasn’t so tired that he didn’t want to steal a bit of her nervousness. “Come here.” He pulled her into his arms. As always, she stiffened up first and then relaxed. “You got anymore rules?”
“Yes.” There was a pause. “Is there any reason we have to stand like this?”
He chuckled. “Not a one.” Without another word, he scooped her up and sat on the chair. When he had her settled in his lap he asked, “Is that better?”
“I meant, was there any reason you had to hold me for us to converse?”
“Yup.” He scooted down and resettled her against his chest. “I like holding you.”
She didn’t seem to have an answer to that.
He rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. “What are your conditions?”
“I’d like you to come home for lunch if possible. And I’d like for us to attend church together on Sunday.”
“I’m not much of a churchgoer.”
“You said you wanted us to do normal things.”
“Best I can tell, y’all don’t have a regular preacher, so I can’t see how going to church on Sunday is normal.”
“We have a preacher that comes through every other week.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you saying you won’t go?”
“I promised you could set the rules and, if you insist, I’ll go.”
She sat up stiff in his lap. “There’s no need for you to go to church. I can go by myself.”
He cracked one eye and took in her mutinous expression. “You’re not riding all the way to town on your own.”
“I’ll get a ride with Aaron and his wife.”
He closed his eyes. “Like hell you will.”
“Mr. MacIntyre!”
“You don’t want me swearing, don’t go throwing that neighbor in my face.”
“I didn’t throw him anywhere. And, even if I did, Aaron is a childhood friend, a perfectly respectable member of this community, and a married man.”
“Darlin’, I don’t care if he’s one of those saints, he’s not escorting my wife anywhere.”
“You have no right to be jealous.”
He tried to tug her back against his chest, but she was in a snit and her backbone was iron tough. “You hinting I got call to be jealous?”
“I most certainly am not.” He cracked both eyes and saw she was serious.
She shifted until she ferreted out his gaze with hers. “I haven’t done a thing to deserve your jealousy. Even when Aaron told me he’d help me obtain a divorce, I stuck to our bargain.”
Asa sat up straight, almost dislodging her from his lap. “That son of a bitch offered what?”
She patted his chest as if she thought that would calm him. “He’d heard the rumors and he wanted to reassure me that I didn’t have to stay married to a gunslinger.”
He just bet he’d offered her that. “And what did you say?”
She met his gaze calmly. “I told him I was satisfied with my choice of husband. I thanked him for his concern, and then I changed the subject.”
He could see her doing it, too. All prim and proper. Elizabeth was loyal. She’d stick by her word. Some of his anger slipped, but not his unease. “I imagine that offer was a bit tempting.”
“No, it wasn’t. Divorcing you would land me back where I started. Aaron’s a nice man and very concerned about my welfare, but he’s not practical.”
And Elizabeth was.
“A man’s got to be practical out here,” he agreed.
She sighed. “It would help.”
“No doubt.” He rubbed her back, urging her against his chest. He liked the way she felt resting against him. Soft and sweet. She gave up the unequal struggle and lay her head on his chest. He let his mind wander over their conversation. The part about where she referred to being back where she started set a warning chill down his spine. Aaron’s ranch bordered Elizabeth’s. If it went bankrupt, Aaron would be the one most likely to want to take over. The drought was hitting everyone hard. He wondered how hard it was hitting Aaron’s spread. He made a note to check it out. Just not tonight. Tonight, he was just too doggone tired.
He let his head drop back. Under his hand, Elizabeth’s shoulder muscles relaxed. He smiled and closed his eyes. She was skittish, but he’d coax her around. He recalled her summation of his ‘needs’, and his smile broadened. No doubt she considered herself an authority on the subject, but she still had a lot to learn about him. He didn’t like discord in his life. He had no intention of having anything other than a sweetly willing wife in his bed. Other men could waste their energy looking for excitement outside the marriage. With the proper approach, he was willing to bet Elizabeth was more than capable of delivering all the excitement he could handle. It was going to take some ruminating, but he’d find the key. Only a fool wouldn’t.
Elizabeth’s even breathing and lax muscles told him she was asleep. He decided to hold her a bit longer and enjoy this rare moment of peace before he carried her up to bed. He imagined her discomfort with the kindness and smiled anew. Courting Elizabeth was looking to be the most fun he’d had in a month of Sundays.
Leaning his head back on the chair, he relaxed, letting the quiet overtake him.