Chapter 4 #2
Ryder met her at the door. She knew that she was staring, but she hadn’t been prepared for the change in his appearance.
Clean-shaven, smelling like soap and something light and musky, he seemed taller than ever.
She tried not to gawk, but the new blue jeans he was wearing suited him all too well, and he’d left the top three buttons on his long-sleeved white shirt undone, revealing far too much of that broad, brown chest for her peace of mind.
The only thing she recognized from before were his old black boots, and even they were shining.
Still damp from his shower, his hair gleamed black in the early morning sunshine.
“Mornin’,” he said softly, and stepped aside to let her in. “Someone from the house just called. Said they wanted a ride into the city.”
Casey blinked, telling herself to concentrate on what he was saying instead of how he looked, but it was difficult Today, those grey eyes of his almost looked blue.
“It isn’t even eight o’clock,” she muttered. “You haven’t had breakfast, and they can wait.”
A slight grin cornered one edge of his mouth and then slid out of sight. “I don’t know what we’ll eat. Yesterday I forgot to buy milk.”
“It doesn’t matter. This morning we’re having breakfast in the kitchen with Tilly. She said to hurry.”
“Who’s Tilly?”
“The woman who raised me after Mother and Father were killed. She’s Joshua’s wife. You remember him from yesterday?”
He nodded, then reached for the broad-brimmed, black Stetson hanging by the door. “Someone else’s cooking sounds good to me.” When Casey moved toward their bedroom, he paused. “Aren’t you coming, or don’t you eat with the hired help?”
She spun, and there was no mistaking the anger in her voice.
“Don’t ever, and I mean, ever, refer to Tilly or Joshua as servants again. Do you understand?”
Surprised by her vehemence, his estimation of her went up a notch. “Yes, ma’am, I believe that I do.”
Again, Casey realized she’d overreacted. He must be as off center as she felt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Easy now.”
Her stomach tied itself into a little knot. If only he’d quit saying those words in those tones.
“I am easy,” she said, and then groaned beneath her breath as a grin spread across his face. “Don’t say it,” she muttered. “You know what I meant.”
“Casey.”
A little nervous about what he would say next, she couldn’t have been more surprised by what came out.
“Don’t ever apologize for having a good heart.”
After witnessing the dangerous side of him last night, his gentleness was the last thing she would have expected.
“Was that a compliment?” she asked.
He ignored her. “Hurry up and get dressed. I’m starving.”
“Feel free to go on ahead. Tilly will be glad to…”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’ll wait for you,” he said.
She inhaled sharply, and then shut the bedroom door behind her as she went inside. Her hands were shaking as she sorted through the closet for something to wear.
I’ll wait for you.
His promise was echoing inside her head as she brushed and zipped and buttoned. Putting on makeup was even more difficult because she found herself looking through tears, but she refused to let them fall. She wasn’t going to let that man get to her, not in any way.
* * *
Erica sauntered into the downstairs kitchen just as Tilly was dishing up the eggs.
“What’s taking so long this morning?” Erica grumbled, picking a strip of hot, crisp bacon from the platter and crunching it between her teeth.
“Get on out of my kitchen,” Tilly said. “Everything is right on time and you know it.”
Erica hated this woman’s uppity manner, and at the same time, respected her authority just enough not to argue.
“It’s not your kitchen,” Erica grumbled, taking one last piece of bacon with her as she started out of the room.
“It’s not yours, either,” Tilly said sharply, and banged a spoon on the side of the pan to punctuate her remark.
Erica glared. And then the back door opened and she forgot what she’d been about to say.
She forgot she was chewing, or that she was holding her next bite in her hand.
All she could do was stare—right past her sister to the man behind her.
Almost choking, she managed to swallow, then dropped the other piece of bacon back onto the platter.
Casey didn’t see Erica. Her focus was on the woman at the stove. Until Matilda Bass passed judgment on what she’d done, she wouldn’t feel right.
“Tilly, this is my, uh…this is Ryder Justice. Ryder, this is Matilda Bass. I consider her my second mother, as well as the best cook in the whole state of Mississippi.”
Upon entering the kitchen, he’d taken off his hat. He extended his hand in a gesture of friendship, which Tilly accepted with obvious reticence. But Ryder behaved as if he’d known her all of his life.
“Mrs. Bass, it’s a pleasure. If everything tastes as good as it smells, I’d warrant Casey is right.”
Tilly’s gaze wavered. She hadn’t been prepared for someone like him, and he was someone, that she could tell.
She frowned slightly. This man didn’t look like any drifter out of the flatlands.
He didn’t sound like one, either. His words were sweet, his appearance sweeter.
All she could think was, He’d better be good to my girl.
She nodded regally, accepting the praise as just. “Call me Tilly, and I’m pleased to meet you, sir. You aren’t from these parts, are you?”
He grinned. “I don’t answer to anything but Ryder, and no, ma’am, I’m not.”
Tilly nodded in satisfaction. “I knew as much. I’d be guessing you’re from Oklahoma…or Texas. Am I right?”
Startled by her perception, he didn’t have it in him to lie.
“Yes, ma’am… Texas.”
Casey felt strange. Here she was married to the man and she’d been so caught up in her own agenda, she hadn’t had enough curiosity about him to wonder where he was from, or how he’d gotten from there to here.
“Then sit,” Tilly said. “Food’s ready.”
Only after they’d taken their seats did Casey realize Erica was in the room.
She looked up at her and smiled, but when her sister sauntered over to Ryder and ran her fingertips lightly across his back, measuring their breadth from shoulder to shoulder, the urge to slap her away from him was almost overwhelming.
There was a cold, mirthless smile on Erica’s face as she finally glanced in Casey’s direction.
“Well, well, princess. Even when you fall, you land on your feet, don’t you?”
Casey’s hackles rose even further. “Let it go, Erica.”
Erica’s expression was bland, but her eyes glittered with envy. “Oh my, I guess that didn’t come out quite right, did it?”
The antagonism between the two sisters was palpable. Ryder suspected it probably had more to do with old wounds than with his arrival into their midst. Nevertheless, whatever its roots, he seemed to be the latest weed to cause dissent. He took it upon himself to change the subject.
“Someone called me earlier for a ride into town. Do you know who it was?”
Erica’s smile broadened. “It wasn’t me, but that’s not such a bad idea. I’ll bet you give really good rides.”
Ryder’s expression blanked, and if Erica had been as astute as she believed herself to be, she would have backed off then, before it was too late. But she didn’t.
“I’m even better at giving a hard time to people who tick me off,” he said.
Erica’s expression froze. A slap in the face couldn’t have stunned her more.
If Casey had been the impulsive type, she would have thrown her arms around his neck and hugged him. But she wasn’t, and the moment passed.
“Tell whoever it is that Ryder is unavailable until we’ve finished our breakfast,” she said. “This morning, my husband and I just want a little peace and quiet and a meal to ourselves.”
Ryder’s eyebrows rose. Husband! Now she was admitting he was her husband?
Suddenly Ryder’s mouth was only inches from Casey’s ear. She could feet his breath—almost hear the laughter in his voice as he whispered.
“I thought we weren’t using that word.”
Casey glared.
Erica was left with nowhere to go but out. She walked away, leaving Ryder with a contemplative stare that Casey chose to ignore.
“I guess if a person is observant, they can learn something new every day,” he muttered.
Casey looked up. “Like what?”
“Never knew there were any barracudas in Mississippi.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” Ryder said. “I was just thinking out loud.”
Tilly’s back was to the pair, but her smile was wide as she added the finishing touch to her eggs before setting them on the table. She wasn’t the type of woman to make snap judgments, but after the way Ryder had cut Erica Dunn off at the mouth, she was pretty sure he was going to do just fine.
She set the plates before them. “Now eat up before my eggs get cold.” She set a full pan of steaming hot biscuits in front of them as well. “Fresh out of the oven, Casey Dee, just the way you like them.”
Casey rolled her eyes in appreciation of the golden brown tops and reached for one to butter.
“Since you’re a married lady now and have your own place, I guess you’ll be needing to learn how to make these,” Tilly said. “When you get time, I’ll be needing to teach you.”
Casey looked stunned. Ryder hid his grin behind a bite of scrambled eggs. Poor Casey. It would seem that her life had taken more changes than she was ready to accept.
“Making biscuits seems a bit of a leap for a woman who can’t boil water,” Ryder said.
Ignoring Casey’s gasp, he scooped a spoonful of strawberry preserves onto his biscuit and then bit into the hot bread, chewing with relish.
“Well, I never,” she muttered.
Ryder swallowed, took a slow sip of coffee, then fixed Casey with a sultry gaze. “I know that, wife. But one of these days you will.”