Here Comes the Bride (13 page)

“You’re right,” Bart agreed. “It ain’t your fault. She brung all this misery on herself, didn’t she? You’re an innocent bystander.”

“Damn right,” Gabe nodded.

“She prob’ly asked you to kiss her, too.”

“That was a mistake,” he repeated. “One I won’t let happen again.”

Bart pushed himself up from his chair and shrugged.

“Don’t rightly matter if it happens again or not, Gabe. Fact is, it happened once and that’s all it took.”

Gabe stared after his brother as he strode from the house. When the hell had Bart started giving a hot tinker’s damn about anyone except himself? And why the hell did Gabe’s heart suddenly ache with the same fierce intensity as the pain in his pounding head?

“Good morning, Rosa,” Tess called brightly as she hurried into the kitchen. The inviting aromas of sizzling bacon and hot coffee filled the house, making her stomach gurgle obnoxiously.

Rosa smiled. “La niña hungry, no?”

“Yes,” she grinned back. “I’m starved. What can I do to help?”

“Nada. Bart Calloway say you go ride today.”

“Yes,” Tess almost gushed. “I’m going to get to ride a horse and see the cows and the land and—”

“Bup bup bup,” Rosa interrupted, her hands waving away Tess’s words. “No ride in dress. I bring for you.”

She pointed to the living room where a pile of clothes lay stacked on the back of the sofa. Tess lifted each piece one by one and examined them. A lovely soft blue blouse with a fitted bodice, a matching riding skirt, and a blue and white checked bandana.

“Are these yours, Rosa?”

“Si,” the woman nodded. “Many year back. I no more little—I big.”

She patted her broad stomach and chuckled.

“Thank you, Rosa.” Tess choked back a tiny sob. “I promise I will look after them today.”

“Go,” Rosa said, again waving away Tess’s thanks. “You hurry, eat soon.”

Tess scampered back upstairs and changed her clothes as quickly as she could. The riding skirt was still a little too big, but with the aid of the belt from the pink wrapper, it would work just fine. After a quick glance in the mirror, Tess had to admit if she had a hat and some real boots, she’d almost look like she fit in here. Almost.

She tossed the thought from her head and returned to the kitchen where everyone except Gabe had already gathered.

“Good morning.” She smiled around the room. Rosa nodded her approval and indicated the chair next to Bart’s.

“Goin’ ridin’ today, miss?” Joby asked.

“Yes.” Tess smiled. “Bart has kindly offered to show me around the ranch today.”

Joby nodded and stuffed another forkful of eggs into his already full mouth. Seth didn’t comment, but his eyes shifted uneasily between Bart and Tess. With the exception of an odd smile, Bart held his remarks to himself, but the grin broadened significantly when Gabe entered the room.

“Good morning, Gabriel.” Tess smiled.

Gabe nodded his greeting to the room as a whole, but his eyes lingered a moment longer on Tess.

“Sit,” Rosa ordered as she pulled Joby’s and Seth’s plates out from under them.

“Damn it, Rosa,” Seth whined. “We ain’t done yet. Ain’t we never gonna be able to finish a danged meal?”

Rosa’s spatula whirled through the air, striking Seth on the back of the head.

“Ow!” he hollered. “What d’ya do that for?”

“You no curse to me, Seth Laughton!” Her two fists—the right one still wrapped around the spatula—settled on her ample hips, bracing for a fight.

Bart and Joby laughed right out loud, but Miguel only smirked.

“Well jeez, ya didn’t hafta hit me!”

Rosa waved the spatula at him again, sending him racing from the house, with Joby tripping behind him. She dished up a huge plate of bacon, eggs and hotcakes for Gabe and served it up with a mug of strong black coffee. She nudged Miguel gently and nodded toward the door. He immediately rose and took his plate to the sideboard.

He waited for her to dry her hands before leading the way to the door. Rosa turned and shot Bart a look.

“You take care,” she warned, wagging her finger at him. “Buena niña.”

Bart grinned broadly, a sly twinkle glowing in his deep brown eyes. “I’ll bring ’er back without a scratch—or a blister.”

Rosa tsk-tsked at him before she left, but her smile pretty much contradicted the sound.

Gabe swallowed a mouthful of coffee and fixed his glare on Tess.

“You two got plans for today?” he grunted.

Tess lifted her chin and smiled bravely. “Yes,” she said. “Bart is going to show me around the ranch. I might even get to milk a cow.”

Gabe’s face clouded, his eyes narrowed, and his lips drew into a thin, pale line.

“That is,” she continued dryly, “unless you need me here for some reason.”

She knew Bart was fighting back his laugh, could feel the tension tighten among the three of them. She’d been up all night rethinking her plan and she couldn’t back down now. She was going to take in everything she possibly could, learn every last detail about cows—cattle—and ranching she was able in the short time she had left at El Cielo.

“You’d be in the way here,” he grunted, pushing his still-full plate away. “Do what you like.”

Bart no longer tried to hide his smile as he chewed his food and guzzled his coffee. He was obviously enjoying this exchange.

“Thank you,” Tess replied evenly. “I will.”

Gabe shoved away from the table and stormed from the room, leaving her trembling in his wake. Guilt immediately flooded her, making her both angry and confused. Why on earth should she feel any guilt whatsoever toward him? He’d made himself fairly clear he had no intention of letting her do any type of work—no matter how menial—so why shouldn’t she go riding with Bart? At least
he
was friendly.

“You know,” Bart chuckled. “I don’t think I know anyone who’d talk to him in that kinda tone. Most folk are scared right dumb when he gets to lookin’ that way.”

“Oh pish,” Tess scoffed. “The last person in the world I would be afraid of is Gabriel. He would never hurt me. Not physically anyway.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears but she pushed them back. No sense crying over what couldn’t be helped.

Bart’s grin faded. “Come on, let’s get outta here. Horses are waitin’.”

Tess forced a smile and stacked the remaining dishes on the sideboard. “Right,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Outside, she caught sight of Gabe leaning in the shadows of the barn door, his arms crossed over his chest, his hat pulled low over his eyes. Bart ignored him and strode straight to the waiting horses.

“I saddled Hera for you. She’s a pretty easy ride—gentle and not terribly jumpy.”

Tess smiled and climbed up into the saddle. Bart adjusted the stirrups and waited until she was comfortably settled atop her mount before he hopped up on his own mare.

“Tess!” Gabe’s voice boomed from across the yard.

“Knew we wouldn’t get away clean,” Bart whispered, turning Tess’s forced smile into a genuine one.

“Yes, Gabriel?” she answered calmly. “What is it?”

He was beside her in a flash, his stony expression not giving anything away. In one swift motion he removed his hat and jammed it down on her head, covering her eyes. Tess pushed the brim up enough to peek out. Then he turned on his heel and stomped back to the barn without looking back.

“Is he gone?” She giggled.

Bart’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any bigger. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go then.”

Bart shook his head slowly and clicked to his horse, sending her off across the yard, past the chickens and toward the northeast rise. They rode at a gentle trot, letting Tess take in every minute detail.

Acres of grassland stretched out in front of her, dotted here and there with vast groves of ponderosa pines and sagebrush. Squirrels scurried through the branches, while jackrabbits and gophers darted in and out of barely visible holes in the underbrush.

“Do you grow any crops here?” she asked, scanning the horizon.

“Nope. Just raise cattle—that’s enough.”

“But they’re cows,” she said. “How much work can they be?”

Bart chuckled. “Well, it ain’t them that’s the work. Besides brandin’, milkin’, castratin’, and the general muckin’ that goes with cattle, a lot of work goes into runnin’ off rustlers and fixin’ the fence over an’ over again.”

“What happens to the fence?”

“Rustlers,” he said. “Neighbors. They cut it to get onto the land whenever they please.”

“Neighbors!” she gasped. “Why on earth would your own neighbors destroy your fence?”

“You ain’t been here long enough to meet the Langmans, have ya? That’s prob’ly for the best, I reckon.” Bart shook his head in disgust. “Sorriest bunch of men I ever did meet.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Tess pushed Gabe’s hat back again.

“Besides bein’ plain stupid ya mean?” He spat his tobacco onto the ground. “Wyatt Langman and the old man got into it one night at the saloon—this was a few years after Mama died—and somehow in the kerfuffle, Wyatt’s oldest son Adam took a bullet. Died on the spot.”

“That’s horrible.” Tess shuddered.

Bart nodded. “Ol’ Wyatt swore he’d get even with the old man one day, an’ even though he never meant it, his boys took him at his word.”

“What do you mean?”

“Stupid things.” He shrugged. “The boys sneak over to do us damage, but it always backfires on ’em. One time they cut through the fence tryin’ to rustle some of our herd and Beau somehow managed to get himself gored. A’ course that was our fault, too.”

“Who is Beau?”

“Langman’s next oldest son.”

“How many are there? Langmans, I mean.”

Bart scratched his head. “Let’s see, Adam and Mrs. Langman are long dead, so that leaves Wyatt, Beau, Clint . . . Damon an’ Evan . . . Stupid Frankie . . . Garth and . . . Collette. She’s the baby of the family. How many’s that? Eight, I guess.”

Tess rolled her eyes heavenward. “Have mercy—eight children! Do they all still live on the ranch?”

“Hell yeah.” Bart laughed. “Most of ’em are married with kids of their own now, ’cept for Stupid Frankie and Collette a’course.”

“Why do you say that?”

“No woman with half a grain of sense would marry a gawkarse like Stupid Frankie Langman, and as for Collette . . .” Bart’s eyes twinkled merrily as he swiped his sleeve across his brow. “Let’s just say she’s always been a bit of a challenge.”

Tess’s jaw dropped. “Bart Calloway! Are you saying . . .”

“Whoa up there, missy,” he laughed, at least showing the good sense to blush. “I ain’t never touched her. Did my fair share of lookin’, though, but she was still a baby the last time I seen her—barely seventeen.”

“Seventeen is hardly a baby,” Tess replied. “Many women are married with children at that age.”

“Not Collette Langman. A man wouldn’t just be marryin’ her, he’d be marryin’ the whole herd of ’em, and there ain’t a man alive up to that job.”

“Not even you?”

Bart’s grin widened.

“My my my,” she said knowingly. “A smile like that can only mean one thing. Have you set your sights on courting Miss Langman?”

Bart shrugged. “Like I said, I ain’t seen her in a spell.”

“How long exactly?”

“I been gone over two years.”

“Two years isn’t long, Bart. Perhaps she’s sweet on you as well.”

Bart reined in his mare and leaned over the saddle horn. “Who said I’m sweet on ’er?”

“You didn’t have to say it, Bart, it’s written plain as day across your face. You should see yourself.”

“Tell me somethin’,” he said, nudging his horse ahead. “How is it you can see it so clear on me but you don’t see it in Gabe?”

Tess looked stunned, then hurt. “Don’t tease me, Bart. Gabriel doesn’t look at me like that. Well, he did once—before he kissed me—but other than that . . .”

“I’m sorry,” Bart said. “I didn’t mean . . . oh, hell, Tess . . . have you decided what you’re gonna do?”

Tess brightened. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. I’m staying right here.”

“Here?”

“Not here at El Cielo, but here in Porter Creek. I’m going to go into town tomorrow and find myself a job and a place to live and I’m going to build a life for myself right here just like I planned.” She paused, smiled sadly, and added, “Well, almost like I planned.”

“So I guess that means you’ll up an’ marry some other knot head here in town—just make sure it ain’t Stupid Frankie Langman!”

“You won’t have to worry about that, Bart. I have no intention of getting married.”

“But . . .”

Tess shook her head resolutely. “I will only marry a man I love, and I love Gabriel. I can’t even imagine being married to anyone else.” She took a deep breath, forcing another smile. “So I’m going to save my money and start my own farm here in Porter Creek. Of course it won’t be nearly as grand as El Cielo, but it’ll be big enough to support me into my old age.”

“You can’t be thinkin’ straight, Tess. Farmin’ an’ ranchin’ are hard ways to live, especially if you’re a woman.”

“I can do it. I know about gardens and such, and now, thanks to your brother, I’ve learned about chickens as well. I’ll get some cows, some pigs, and whatever else I need and I’ll make it work somehow.”

“It’s not easy, Tess.”

“I know.”

Bart was silent a long time before asking his next question.

“Why here? I mean it’s gonna be hard enough for you bein’ a single lady an’ all in a town full of gawkarses but to have to see Gabe all the time, ain’t that gonna make it even harder? I mean what if . . .”

His voice trailed off, but the unasked question hung between them, like a noose around her heart. Her eyes burned in their sockets, but she lifted her chin a little higher, straightened her shoulders, and pushed Gabe’s hat back on her head a little more.

“Living in the same town as Gabriel may prove difficult, yes. More so if he should find and marry another, but I came here with a goal, Bart, and I intend to achieve that goal—with or without him. I will admit, though, there is a small part of me that hopes one day your boneheaded brother will come to his senses and see the light, so to speak. I know it is unlikely, but you never know. Miracles happen every day.”

She was shocked to hear how confident she sounded, for she certainly did not feel it in her heart. Seeing Gabriel married to another would likely kill her on the spot.

Bart shook his head slowly. “But you could start a farm in any of a hundred towns. Why make it harder on yourself by stayin’ here?”