The Cowboy Meets His Match Page 4

  5

  Chase had just ridden up to the ranch house when he heard the scream. “What the—!”

  Quickly dismounting, he tossed the reins over the hitching post, bounded up the porch steps, and burst into the house.

  He raced through the dining room and came to a skidding stop just inside the kitchen door. There he found his new bride standing on a chair, waving her arms and screeching like a train whistle.

  He glanced at Cookie, who simply shrugged and said, “She saw a mouse.”

  The woman was making so much noise, it was necessary to read his cook’s lips. A mouse? The woman who had thrown an ironclad punch at him was now carrying on over a danged mouse?

  Taking quick action, he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the chair. He then slung her over his shoulder and carried her from the room.

  “Let me go,” she cried, struggling in his arms. Failing to earn her release, she punched him on the back with pounding fists. She was a regular tiger, but fortunately light in weight.

  He was tempted to dump her on one of the leather chairs in the parlor, but spotting his housekeeper’s young daughter, he changed his mind at the last minute. Instead, he hauled her all the way to his private office. There he lowered her to the floor.

  Bristling like a wild hog, she pulled away from him. With an indignant toss of her head, she straightened her skirt and yanked on a sleeve. Without all the ruffles and lace of her wedding gown, she looked even smaller in stature than she’d appeared the night before. It wouldn’t take much of a norther to blow her away.

  She continued to be a puzzle. A looker like her wouldn’t normally have any trouble roping in any man she wanted. What she lacked in physical size, she more than made up for in pluck and spirit. When she wasn’t glaring at him, her eyes shone with keen intelligence. When she wasn’t spewing angry words, her mouth looked soft and supple.

  So why would such a woman choose something as risky as being a mail-order bride? Why, for that matter, had she even come to Texas?

  Oh yes, the lady had secrets. Secrets that could very well work to his advantage. That is, if he played his cards right.

  “You can relax, ma’am. I doubt that the mouse had murderous intent.”

  She gave the baseboards a quick glance before turning to him with doubt-filled eyes.

  “If you don’t mind, I need someone to drive me to the courthouse.”

  Biding his time, he took his seat behind his desk and considered how best to earn her trust. Last night, he’d impetuously wanted to get their marriage annulled. This morning, a cooler head prevailed. Leaving the marriage intact would save the ranch and might even benefit the lady.

  Now that she’d seen the ranch house and the kind of life he could provide, he hoped she would be more receptive to the idea than she might have been the day before. Or at least listen to what he had to say.

  “About our marriage,” he began in a tentative voice.

  She studied him with an odd combination of determination and uncertainty. “We don’t have a marriage.”

  “Legally, we do.” Assured that he had her full attention, he continued, “It might be beneficial to us both to leave things as they stand. At least for the time bein’.”

  An incredulous look crossed her face. “Surely you’re not suggesting that we stay…married?” She made it sound like he’d proposed robbing a bank.

  He splayed his hands. He hadn’t wanted to go into detail, but she had the right to know what he was asking of her and why. For that reason, he gave her a short version of the ranch’s history. “Unfortunately,” he added through gritted teeth, “my father’s will stipulates that the first of his two…sons to marry inherits the ranch.”

  Regardless of the will’s wording, Royce wasn’t his father’s biological son and had no right to the ranch. None!

  “I don’t see what the problem is,” she said. “You are the first one married. The ranch is yours.”

  “For now. However, to keep it, I have to stay married for a full year.”

  Her eyes widened, and she stared at him with a look of horror that quickly turned to dismay. “You…you want me to stay here on this…this…” She drew in her breath. “This ranch f-for a year?”

  He tried not to take the combination of horror and dismay on her face personally. It was foolish to expect a lady like her to see the advantages of ranch life. It might not seem like much through her eyes, but it was his whole world and the only one he’d ever wanted.

  He clasped his hands on his desk. “I don’t know what your story is or why you left Boston, but I suspect you’re runnin’ from somethin’.”

  She lifted her chin. “What makes you think that?”

  “It’s been my experience that only three things bring folks to the Lone Star State: wealth, health, or a ruined reputation. You don’t strike me as a gold digger, and you don’t look sick. So that leads to only one conclusion.”

  He studied her face to see if there was any truth to his suspicions. The trapped look in her eyes was all the confirmation he needed.

  “You didn’t kill anyone, did you?” Taking her shocked look as a no, he continued. “Did you rob a bank?”

  “Certainly not!” she said, her eyes flashing.

  “Hmm.” More intrigued now than curious, he decided to leave his questions for another time. “Whatever it is you’re runnin’ from, you’ll be safe here at the ranch. I give you my word. In return, I ask that you remain my wife for the full year.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and a shadow of indecision fleeted across her forehead. “What happens after…that time?”

  Her query gave him a measure of hope. At least she was thinking about it. “You then give me the gate.”

  She stared at him. “The gate?”

  He sighed inwardly. He’d forgotten that Easterners required everything spelled out in precise language. “A divorce,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  Since she appeared not to like the idea of a divorce, he added, “If’n you prefer, we can have our marriage annulled after the year is up.” When she made no response, he continued. “After our marriage has been properly dissolved, I’ll see to it that you have enough ballast to start a new life.”

  She frowned. “What…does that mean, exactly?”

  He raised his eyebrows. Not only was she unsuited to ranch life, it appeared that the two of them didn’t even speak the same language. “It means you’ll have enough money to start a new life.”

  Her forehead creased. “Why would I help you? Your uncle—”

  “My uncle has nothin’ to do with it. This is strictly atwixt you and me.”

  For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. “You’re forgetting something,” she said at last.

  “Oh?”

  “I’m promised to Mr. Garvey.”

  He rubbed his upper lip. “Under the circumstances, I doubt that Garvey harbors any illusions of you keepin’ that promise.”

  She stiffened. “That’s for him to decide.”

  He sat back in his chair and studied her. “Are you sayin’ that you still intend to follow through with your promise to him?”

  “If he’ll still have me.”

  “He’s as much a stranger to you as I am.”

  “That’s not true,” she said. “I got to know him quite well through his letters.”

  “Apparently not well enough. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have mistaken me for him.” He bit his tongue, but it was too late. Judging by the closed look on her face, his glib comment had defeated his cause.

  “My mind is made up,” she said, her voice cool. “I’m asking the judge for an annulment.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “On the grounds that I was coerced.”

  He rubbed the side of his still-sore face. The lady might be small, but she could sure deliver a pun
ch. “If you were coerced, why am I the one who got hit?”

  She looked momentarily unnerved but quickly recovered. “I was referring to your uncle,” she said. “He threatened me.”

  “Threatened you?”

  “Not in so many words. But his meaning was quite clear. Or at least it seemed so at the time.”

  “My uncle thought you were someone else. We both did, and for that, I apologize. But I can assure you my uncle’s bark is worse than his bite.”

  She regarded him with eyes as cool as a wintry day. “Either I claim coercion or”—she lifted her chin—“I tell the judge our marriage was not…consummated. Those are our only two options.”

  His eyebrows shot up. The lady sure didn’t mince words. “The judge is more likely to believe that my uncle threatened you than me bein’ unable to perform my husbandly duties.”

  Something flickered across her face, but he couldn’t decide if it was disdain, reproach, or curiosity. “Very well,” she said. “Then it’s settled.”

  Maybe in her mind, but not his. He cleared his throat. “I’d be mighty obliged if’n you would leave things as they now stand. At least temporarily.” He hated begging, but she gave him little choice. “Like I said, I’ll make it worth your while. Moneywise, that is.”

  “Sorry,” she said, and she actually sounded like she meant it. “But I’m already promised to another.” The eyes meeting his begged him to understand.

  “I guess our business is complete then,” he said, his voice ringing with a note of finality.

  She arched an eyebrow. “So, you agree to the annulment?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not like you’re givin’ me a choice.”

  She looked uncertain. “Don’t you have to sign or something?”

  “I’ll stop by the courthouse later.”

  Relief crossed her face, but still, she lingered.

  “Is there somethin’ else?” he asked.

  She hesitated, and two red spots colored her cheeks. “About the mouse…”

  He frowned. “Go on.”

  “As a child, I was accidentally locked overnight in a cellar overrun with mice. I’m afraid I allowed my childhood fears to get the best of me.”

  Curious as to why she thought it necessary to explain, he shrugged. “Other than givin’ Cookie a scare, I’d say no harm was done.”

  They stared at each other for a moment before she turned away. Hand on the doorknob, she shot a glance over her shoulder. “When can I expect my ride?”

  “I’ll have my foreman pick out a hoss for you.”

  “A…a horse?”

  “You can leave it at the stables in town when you’re finished. Just let me know where you want your luggage sent.” Something in her face made him frown. “Something wrong?”

  “I—” Clearing her throat, she turned to face him. “I don’t know how to ride.”

  He reared back. “You’re not serious.” He had practically been born in a saddle and couldn’t imagine life without a horse.

  She lowered her lashes, and her cheeks turned red. “I-I know how to drive a horse and buggy. Even a carriage.” Her lashes flew up. “B-but never found the need to ride a horse.”

  “Never?” He shook his head. What a strange one she was. She could hint at his manhood—or invented lack of it—with hardly a falter, but a subject as benign as riding a horse had her stammering like a schoolgirl. “I can’t imagine such a thing. Not ridin’, I mean.”

  “That’s probably because you were never required to ride sidesaddle.”

  “Sidesaddle, huh?” Of course. He should have known. A lady like her… “I think you’ll find us more civilized out here,” he said wryly. “We don’t expect our womenfolk to do anythin’ so ludicrous as to ride half-cocked.” When his attempt at humor failed to bring the hoped-for smile, he added, “I can take you to town myself. But that would mean you havin’ to ride on the back of my hoss.”

  “What about the buggy you drove last night?”

  “I rented it in town for my weddin’. One of my men used it to retrieve your luggage and has since returned it. We’ve no need for such contraptions out here. The most we have is a chuck wagon, which has no room for passengers, and a freight wagon. The buckboard is in for repairs.”

  Her face dropped in dismay. Feeling sorry for her, he added, “I’ll send one of the boys to town to rent a four-wheeler.”

  “If you don’t mind. I’d be…most grateful.”

  Oh, he minded all right. He needed his men on the ranch, working. Still, he was partly to blame for the woman’s plight. The least he could do was help make things right.

  “Anythin’ else?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, thank you. That will be all.” She started for the door and stopped. “I’m sorry for hitting you.”

  “I’ve been hit worse,” he said.

  She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Have you now?”

  “Yes, and some might say I was deservin’.”

  “In that case, you must consider yourself a very lucky man, Mr. McKnight.”

  “Lucky?”

  “Not everyone gets what he deserves.”

  He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he detected a dent in her guarded demeanor, but it was gone in a blink. Shoulders back, she left the room with far more dignity than when she’d entered.

  Staring at the closed door, Chase sat back in his chair with a frown. Too bad the lady was so hell-bent on dissolving the marriage. She would have saved him a world of trouble. No sooner had the thought occurred to him than he changed his mind.

  A woman scared of mice and who couldn’t ride would be more trouble than she was worth. Still, she would have livened things up a bit, that was for sure.

  His gaze found its way to his grandfather’s daguerreotype. The grainy picture had been taken years ago when his grandfather was about the same age as Chase was now. The man in the photograph looked more like a country parson than the man who had fought off rustlers to save the ranch. That was the least of it. Through the years, his grandfather had also lost cattle to disease, droughts, and wildfire.

  Chase didn’t want to think that Grandpa McKnight had it easy. But nothing had threatened the ranch more than a single sentence on a legal document. The first son married will have full ownership of the ranch, providing the marriage lasts a full year.

  6

  The chore of driving Emily to town had been assigned to a wrangler by the name of Big-Foot Harry. A tall man with bear-size limbs, he had craggy skin with the same rough surface as a peach pit.

  The moment Emily settled onto the seat of the four-wheel buggy, he clicked his tongue, and the sorrel mare shuffled forward. A second horse tied to the back of the rented vehicle belonged to the driver and would provide transportation back to the ranch.

  It was hot and muggy, and Emily felt sticky all over. It was hard to know what had the worse influence on the lungs—the sunbaked dust or the unforgiving reek of cattle. Did anyone ever get used to the horrible smell? Feeling as if she would gag, she pulled a monogrammed handkerchief from her sleeve and held it in front of her nose and mouth.

  It wasn’t just the smell that bothered her—it was also the desolation. She couldn’t imagine living in such a place by choice. Only a hermit could relish such an existence.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, her head still rang with the sound of the ranch owner’s voice. You didn’t kill anyone, did you? he’d asked. Good Lord. What must he think of her to ask such a question?

  Leaving the ranch, they drove under an iron arch attached to two massive poles. The words Rocking M Ranch were engraved on the metal bar in large letters.

  “Is…is all that land part of the ranch?” Emily asked.

  “Sure enough is,” Big-Foot Harry said with a nod. “All the way past them there hills. It’s what we Texans cal
l a braggin’ ranch. ’Course the boss don’t believe in braggin’ none. Gotta respect a man like that. Know what I mean?”

  Emily wasn’t at all sure what he meant, but since he seemed to expect an answer, she nodded anyway. It seemed strange to respect someone for simply not bragging.

  Oh, how she missed the lush, green lawns of Boston and the nearness of neighbors. Before her world had come crashing down, the nights had been filled with parties, theater, and concerts. She’d had her choice of beaus, and everyone had predicted a bright future for her. In Boston terms, that meant a suitable marriage. Never had she imagined anything like her current bleak circumstances.

  “What do people do here to pass the time?”

  Big-Foot Henry cast a puzzled look her way. “Do?”

  “You know, for entertainment.”

  “Well now, let’s see. We tell stories, and Kansas Pete plays the fiddle. Sometimes, we just sit around a campfire and watch the stars do their thing.”

  Emily studied him with curiosity. If watching the stars was his idea of excitement, she would sooner twiddle her thumbs. “Doesn’t sound very exciting.”

  “If it’s excitement you want, I reckon you came to the right place. The cattle provide about all the excitement a body can take.” He continued, “Once a year, the town holds a rodeo. That gives us a chance to show off our ridin’ and bulldoggin’ skills. Do you have anythin’ like that where you come from?”

  His question gave her pause. “You mean do we have bricklaying contests? Or banker competitions to see who can turn down the most loans?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “I guarantee you won’t see any bankers at our events.”

  She laughed too. “Have you lived here in Haywire all your life?”

  “Not yet, ma’am, but that’s the plan.” He arched an eyebrow. “I have to say… I never thought I’d see the day that the boss would commit holy matrimony. Certainly not to a lady such as yourself.”

  Seated primly on the horsehair seat, her face shaded by her feathered hat, Emily blinked the dust out of her eyes. “We married by accident,” she said.

  “Is that so?” Big-Foot Harry made a funny sound with his mouth. “Never heard of such a thing. Marryin’ by accident, I mean.”