Cowboys and Highlanders (100 page)

“I’m not asking you to play at anything. But you should still respect my wishes. I hate other men looking at you.”

“Sometimes I hate you.” She opened the door, stomped out, and slammed it closed behind her.

Train was about to run after her, and then rethought the decision. She had a reason to be angry, but he couldn’t help the flash of jealousy firing through him at the thought of other men wanting her.

Rumors were rampant. Gossip over who had seen her at the brothel. A few professed to having been a patron of hers. It did bother him that the rumors could very well be true.

Train poured a drink and stepped out onto the porch to sip it. He scanned the edge of the lake looking for Marion. He saw her sitting under his favorite tree.

“Are we always going to fight?” she asked when he approached.

“You’re a betting girl. What do you think?” He rested his wrists against a branch just above his head.

She glanced up at him. “You sound as if you like the idea.”

“You’re a passionate woman. A fiery temper comes with the territory.” He sat next to her.

“Then why do you take pleasure in making me wrathy?”

“For the same reason you take pleasure in making me jealous.” He put his hand on the back of her neck. “We both like the excitement.”

Marion pressed the pad of her finger into the soft soil at the base of the tree. “I guess we both like to play games.” She held her hand out for him to help her up. “The trouble with games is that someone always loses.”

Train gently kissed her lips. “I like a good sparring because I know you’ll take it out on me in bed.” He kissed her again covering her breast with his hand. “And I know you love to make me jealous because I can make you beg for release.”

Marion slipped her hands around his neck. “You’re saying a good fight works for us.”

“Works for me.”

Chapter Thirteen

A few weeks later, Marion’s bare feet crushed the frost covered prairie grass as she hurried back from the outhouse. Train hadn’t seen a water closet as a necessity when building the house. She shivered in the early morning light just before sunup.

Train sat at the table sipping a cup of coffee. “You should wear shoes when you go out. Another week or two and there’ll be snow on the ground.”

She briskly rubbed them together in front of the fire, bringing warmth back into her hands. “Will you be gone all day?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound eager for him to be out of the house. “I thought I’d go help Allison today. The baby is still making her sick.”

“TJ said she was feeling like herself again.” Train watched her, taking another sip.

“I think she puts up a brave front so TJ won’t worry.” She took her coffee cup and sat in the chair to his right. She propped her feet up on his lap. “If you’ll come home for lunch, I’ll wait until this afternoon to go over.”

He wrapped his fingers around her toes. “Are you going to wear your dress that matches the curtains?” he joked.

“Will it make a difference?”

“No, I like you naked.” He pushed her feet off his lap. “But not today, I’m heading into high country. I doubt I’ll be home before dark. Now that the weather is changing, the deer will be looking for food. Good time for hunting. Cake loves to cook up a nice piece of venison.” He put his cup on the hutch next to the sink basin in the small kitchen area. “TJ usually goes, too.”

“Then I guess I’ll stay at the ranch house and have dinner with Allison and the children.” She put her cup next to his. “I’m going back to bed for a while.” She kissed him, making contact with the side of his mouth more than his lips.

“See you tonight,” he replied.

Marion climbed beneath the covers until only the top of her head was visible.

She waited until she heard Clive race away from the house before tossing off the covers and getting dressed. Outside, she went around to the side of the house, pulled one of the few remaining crates into the kitchen area, and began to unpack Sandy’s dishes into the black lacquer hutch that matched the desk still in the stable. As soon as she got a few chores done, she could get out of the house.

* *
*
* *

Train pulled his heavy parka up over his ears. Lately it seemed Marion was hiding something from him and he’d yet to figure out what. He didn’t think she was lying to him as much as omitting the details of how she spent her days.

“We’re in for an early winter,” Charlie said on the horse next to him. “TJ already has the fields turned under. Figure he expects the snow to fly early. Will you be making a run into town?” He took a breath, but continued. “So how’s the house? You put it up fast. Hopefully the roof won’t leak.”

Train listened to Charlie dance around what was really interesting him. He wanted the details of how his marriage came to be.

“You thinking the same thing everyone else is, Charlie?” Glancing over, he summed up Charlie’s interest by the slump of his shoulders and the furrowing of his brows. “The house is sturdy,” he said when Charlie didn’t respond.

They rode in silence for another mile up the mountain. “Let’s break by the river and see what comes our way. Maybe we’ll get lucky and make an early kill. I want to get home before dark.” Train angled Clive to move off to the left.

They tethered their horses to a tree a few yards from the river and hunkered down in the brush. Train pulled his hat low over his eyes and tightened his coat around his neck. “Jerky?” he offered instead of tobacco. He didn’t want to scare away any potential game with the smell.

Charlie took a piece. “How come you cancelled the wedding party? We were all looking forward to getting to know your wife.”

“Why do you think I did?”

“I’m your friend, Train. You aren’t going to want to hear this, but you look like a fool to a lot of people.”

“Charlie, you’ve known me a long time. When have I given a shit what anyone thinks? Marion’s my girl.”

“Jack has a thing for your girl,” Charlie blurted. “I don’t want to be the one to tell you, but they’ve been seeing each other every day. The way Jack talks it’s gotten pretty heavy, but hell, what did you expect when you married a whore?”

Trains hands balled into fists. “Jack is full of shit.” He spit the jerky from his mouth before he threw up.

“You could ask anyone, but they’re all afraid to say anything. Even TJ’s seen her down at the shack.” Charlie took a hefty swallow from the canteen. “You can punch me if you want, won’t change the truth. She’s making a fool out of you.”

A crackle sounded near the river. Charlie picked up his rifle and took careful aim. The shot rang out and the three-point buck dropped to the ground. “We’ll need to move farther up stream, unless you want to head back.”

Train shook his head. “I need to shoot something and if we go back now, it’ll either be Jack or Marion.” Picking up his rifle, he headed back toward the horses while Charlie retrieved his kill.

* *
*
* *

Marion came through the back door without knocking. Allison’s kitchen felt more like home than her own little house. “Have you or TJ said something to Train? He’s getting suspicious. He watches me like a hawk. This morning I had to pretend to go back to bed in order to convince him I wasn’t eager for him to leave.” She went to the stove and poured a cup of coffee.

“I know I haven’t said a thing. I doubt TJ did either. He knows Train would be livid if he knew how much time you were spending in the shack.” She had a large pot simmering on the stove. Marion went to stick her nose in when Allison gave her a warning glance. “I’m making soap. The fumes will burn your eyes, not to mention it stinks until I add a little oil.”

Marion took the pad of paper TJ had given her and turned to the next blank page. “All right,” she said with pencil poised to write. “Step one.” Marion began to transcribe the instructions Allison dictated for the process. She struggled spelling some of the words, but as long as she could read what she wrote, it didn’t matter.

Marion tapped the pencil against the table. “Any other lessons for today, teacher?”

“No, but tomorrow I’m going to show you how to organize a pantry.”

Marion kissed Allison on the cheek. “Don’t do too much.” She put her hand on Allison’s belly. “I’ll stop by before I go home. Train said he’d be late, so I’m going over to the shack.”

“Don’t get caught,” Allison hollered. Marion went out the door.

Marion shuddered stepping out into the chilled air. She rubbed her arms as she jogged down the path to the shack. She burst through the door and was greeted by the delicious smell of apple pie.

“Hello, Sunshine.” Cake’s wide, genuine smile held the same warmth as the cast iron stove in the corner. “Are you hungry?”

“Do you have to ask?” Marion stepped next to him and took the oven mitt he held out to her. Carefully and slowly, she opened the oven door.

“Just a crack,” he warned. “You don’t want to let the heat out.”

“You’ll make a chef out of her yet,” Betty said when she came over. “Got your writing tablet?” Marion held it up. “Good because today you are going to learn about the animal your husband is hunting.”

Marion sat down at the nearest table and licked the tip of her pencil. “Ready.”

Jack walked into the shack. “Smells delicious.” Then he caught a glance of Marion. “On no, did you do the cooking?” he asked. “Keep her away from the food. Your cookies made me sick.” He pointed his finger at her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t try one first. I mixed up the baking soda for the baking powder.”

Betty laughed. “Actually, you mixed up the soda and the flour.”

“A cup of soda is bound to clean anything, including the body.” Cake’s deep chuckle bounced his belly.

“Well, you’re safe,” Marion said. “I didn’t make the pies.”

* *
*
* *

Train let Clive lumber along at a slow pace because of the extra weight on the back of his saddle. He was eager to see if the others who had been up on the mountain had fared as well as he and Charlie did. A three-point buck hung on the back of Charlie’s saddle, but he’d managed to snag a huge six-point devil along with a younger male who had yet to establish a large set of antlers.

It was well past dinner when Train and Charlie entered the shack booming with boisterous laughs and stories of who was king of the mountain. Charlie put his fingers in his mouth and let an ear-piercing whistle screech through the room. “I wouldn’t want any premature celebrations, but we have ourselves a new king of the mountain.” He bowed to Train. “If you would care to step outside and see for yourselves.” He opened the door. Their gutted kills lay on the ground waiting to be hung and skinned before the meat spoiled.

Cake rubbed his hands together. “I’d say that head would look right pretty hanging on the wall above your fireplace.”

“Wouldn’t be any room left in the house,” someone said and everyone laughed. “The walls of that little house would cave in under the weight.” He lifted the buck by the antlers. “Christ, Train, you brought him down on your horse?”

“Maybe you could invite us out to dinner. Your wife can make up some well-done venison burgers.” A few men laughed, but the joke was lost on Train.

“Jack, shut up,” Cake said. He grabbed hold of the smaller deer. “Let’s get them hung.”

Train walked back to the stables instead of helping with the deer. He wanted to check on his horses before riding the new stallion home. Clive was tired from the hunt. He’d stumbled a few times. His muscles strained under the additional weight. “Good job today,” he said while he gave him more hay. Clive’s ears perked up and he whinnied.

Train moved farther down the aisle until he reached the stall with the dark brown stallion. The horse stomped the ground in anticipation of being rode. His
Legacy
, the stallion that would sire his future stock. Foregoing the saddle, still using a bridle, he led the horse into the cool, night air and headed for home.

The sky was a watercolor of charcoal gray, ivory, and muted blue. The silhouette of his home looked like a place of solitude against the horizon of still blue waters and steep rocky cliffs. It called to him unlike anything ever had. He felt the same way about the woman behind the maroon curtains lying naked in a bed of clean sheets.

Only a sliver of a flame, still burning in the fireplace, lit the room. Marion’s black hair fanned out across her pillow while her even breathing strummed his heartstrings.

The changes were not subtle around the house. The care she took with sewing the curtains was clearly visible. The hems were straight and pleated in just the right spot to reflect a faint pattern in the fabric.

Obviously, his wife was very observant. The kindling box was full of splintered wood from the crates she’d emptied. She wielded his axe just as he had done many times while building the house and chopped firewood. He had to admit, for a woman to profess having only one skill, she was becoming adept at household chores.

Aromas in the house hinted at apple pie confirming what Charlie had said. In addition to finding time to mislead him into believing that she was taking care of Allison, she was entertaining the likes of Jack. Suddenly she didn’t look as appealing lying in bed. He grabbed his bedroll and went to sleep under the stars.

Marion woke, surprised to find herself alone in bed. The house was dark with the heavy curtains blocking the morning sun. Allison had been right. It was nice to wake up rested rather than rudely rousted by the blinding sun.

She quickly got the fire going again before she went to the outhouse. “Train?” She came across his bedroll near the side of the house. “What in the hell are you sleeping out here for?” The combination of cold and the need to use the outhouse made her dance from one foot to the other. “Go inside,” she demanded as she hurried away.

Marion returned to find Train sitting at the kitchen table. He had put the coffeepot on the stone slab close to the fire to heat. “Do you want apple pie for breakfast?” She pulled back the cloth covering the dessert. “What is it now?” she asked.

He had yet to look at her. Still his lips formed a thin, angry, line.

“If you now prefer the company of your horse during the night rather than your wife in a warm bed, I’ve done something to upset you.”

Train stood and grabbed his hat off the hook. “Figure out whose bed you prefer before making assumptions about where I want to be.” He swung open the door, causing it to crash into the wall.

Marion followed and grabbed hold of him by the arm. “Hold on just a minute,” she said, seething. “If you have something to say, be a man and come right out with it.” Marion could feel her temper rising. She had never backed down from a fight, and didn’t plan to start now.

“Where have you been whiling away your afternoons? Don’t bother lying.”

Sucking in sharply, she said, “Are you insinuating that I’ve been keeping company in someone else’s bed? Or perhaps I’ve set up shop right here in the backwoods?” She sniffed the air. “Something smells unsavory, but it isn’t sex.” She let go of his arm. “Because I’m not having any!” She went back in the house as Train mounted Legacy.