Rancher Wants a Wife (6 page)

They’d done the right thing according to society, taking him in as a boy who’d just lost his folks in a terrible tragedy, and he’d be forever grateful for that kindness. He didn’t have anyplace else to go, and they were family. He’d grown to love them.

But as that boy, he hadn’t understood how difficult it was for them, with the business rivalry between his uncle and father. They’d been as vicious and cruel to each other as one could imagine, each trying to outdo the other in the stockyard trades. They weren’t even speaking to each other when Jack’s father died, and then to suddenly have to take in the son of the brother he despised... Well, Jack had sensed the betrayal, but never understood it until he’d grown older and started asking discreet questions to those who knew the family.

“I tried to help Troy by myself,” said Jack.

“How did you do that?”

“I told him I would accompany him on his outings. To gaming clubs and—” Jack noted the innocent expression in her blue eyes and decided she didn’t need to know all the sordid details “—and all the places he used to frequent. I tried to make it lighthearted, as though I was acting like his bodyguard. But he grew to resent me on those outings. Every time I reminded him he’d already had too much to drink and should cut back, it made him drink more, telling me I was goading him into it. I made it worse, not better.”

“He made it worse, not you. And you kept this all to yourself?”

“Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“You tried so hard to save him. In retrospect, it doesn’t seem as though I did nearly as much.”

“Troy was the only one who could save himself, and he didn’t want to.”

“Have you heard from him, or your aunt and uncle?”

Jack shook his head. “Not since that night. There was the letter I wrote that was returned, address unknown. I sent a few letters to my aunt and uncle, but they never replied.”

“Maybe they didn’t get them. Lots of mail was lost during the Great Fire.”

“Oh, they got them.” He blinked. He’d never told her everything that had happened, everything he’d done to get through that awful period, including hiring an investigator. The detective had told him that the letters had been received by Troy’s family. But hiring someone to snoop didn’t feel terribly honorable, looking at it now from a distance.

Yet there was something else he
did
need to tell her. “Cassandra...about the wedding ceremony...”

She seemed to know exactly what he was referring to. Her voice became strained. “Yes, Jack, I’ve been meaning to ask. Who is she?”

He tried to control the flare of his temper when he thought of what Elise had done. The embarrassment to Cassandra, the wagging tongues in town the scene had undoubtedly caused, being forced to explain himself in front of the minister.

And how on earth did it get to the point where Jack was talking in his marital bed, on his wedding night, about another woman? To blazes with Elise!

“Her name is Elise Beacon. Daughter of Wilfred Beacon, who owns one of the largest vineyards around. Except that right now, he’s in South America somewhere with his latest fling. Elise has had a hard time of it. She’s very good with animals—very skilled, seems to have an instinct for it. Anyway, she and I...well, I courted her for two months.”

“How long ago?”

“It ended way back in January. Five months ago, for crying out loud.”

Cassandra frowned. “And you proposed marriage to me in February?” Her expression grew incredulous. “Just one month later?”

“Well, I...” He’d never thought of that.

He ran a hand through his hair, determined to explain fully so there’d be no misunderstanding. “There was nothing serious—ever—between us. She was being courted by someone else at the same time, in fact, and as soon as I heard about that, I broke off with her. As for you and me, I’ve known you since you were fourteen. There’s no comparison between how I feel for you and what I felt for her.”

Cassandra drew her lips together, as though weighing the situation. Pensive, she gazed over to the red glow of flames in the fireplace, her blond lashes silhouetted by the golden light. “She’s still hurt.”

He rubbed a hand over the bristles on his jaw and shrugged a shoulder, so much wider and bigger than Cassandra’s on the pillow. “She’s overblown everything she thinks happened between us. That’s the only way I can rationalize her behavior. And I’m sorry for what happened today. I can’t apologize enough.”

Cassandra, though, grew agitated. She tucked her tongue into her cheek and batted her lashes. “Would have been nice if I had received some warning.”

He sputtered. “Well, surely you don’t think I could’ve guessed what she might do?”

“She saw us yesterday when I arrived.” Cassandra lifted her arm for emphasis, her long sleeve swirling. “I’m sure you saw her, too, coming out of the hat shop. You could’ve told me then who she was.”

“But she’s nothing to me,” he insisted.

“She doesn’t seem to think so,” Cassandra said with a heated snap. “Neither do some of the other folks in town. I saw their faces in church. I think a few extra people showed up today just to see what would happen!”

“How am I supposed to agree or disagree with that statement?” he asked indignantly. “I can’t read the minds of others.”

“You should’ve warned me,” she said with accusation. She grew still, except for her fingers flicking at the stitching on the covers. “Are there any other women you need to tell me about?”

“Oh, hell,” he said, exasperated by the scrutiny. “I’m not about to provide a list, in the event any other woman holds a grudge.”

Aghast, Cassandra clutched the blanket to her chin. “Are there that many?” she whispered.

“No!” Flabbergasted, he sat up, bare-chested and pulling at the sheets. What he’d done or not done before she’d become his wife was irrelevant. “There were
some
women. I haven’t been an angel here on my own, but I didn’t expect that I’d be getting married anytime soon.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened. She looked hurt, and now he felt guilty all over again.

“Come now, Cassandra, you know what I mean. It has nothing to do with you. I’m happy we got married.” His anger flared at being judged and assessed and ranked and rated, and he spoke recklessly. “I’m damn ecstatic.”

“Well, me too,” she retorted. “I couldn’t be more elated. I’m so filled with joy, I feel like shouting it from the rooftops!” With that, she grabbed the covers and turned away from him, slamming her shoulder into the mattress.

He flipped onto his side, too, and stared at the moonlit window, perturbed as hell.

Well, wasn’t this just great? He and his new wife falling asleep on their first night together with their backs turned.

Chapter Six

T
he silence continued the next morning at breakfast. Jack had slept in past his usual time on Cassandra’s account, not wanting to rush her out of bed the day after their wedding.

Sunlight poured into the kitchen from the terrace, and one would think, looking in the French doors, that things were almost normal inside this house.

Jack knew better.

He looked up from his plate of eggs to Cassandra, who was poking at her sliced fruit and biscuits.

Stubborn, the both of them, he thought.

Today she wore a peach-colored blouse and long gray skirt, soft colors that brought out the freshness in her cheeks. But for some reason, today the ragged scar was a barrier between them, and accentuated how out of reach she seemed, and what a failure he’d been by leaving Chicago when she and her family needed him most. He averted his gaze, but perhaps not before she saw his slight withdrawal.

Mrs. Dunleigh chirped around them as if they were newly hatched chicks and she’d done all the work of delivering them.

“My dear, it’s simply wonderful to have another woman in the house. If there’s anything you should need, please don’t hesitate to inquire.”

“I better run.” Jack rose from the table, in leather vest and denim jeans. “My schedule’s hectic today.”

“You scheduled today?” Mrs. Dunleigh glanced from his face to Cassandra’s, then seemed to catch herself. “Why, of course, I—I’ve forgotten how busy the only veterinarian in the valley can be. There’s always someone who needs your services.”

“I’d like to show you around the stables, Cassandra, when you’re done here,” Jack told her.

“Indeed, you must go have a peek, Mrs. McColton.” Mrs. Dunleigh wiped her hands on her apron and peered with concern at the new mistress of the house. “Sunshine and fresh air will do you good.”

Cassandra attempted a smile. “Sounds promising. I’ll be right along.”

“I’d like that,” he said with sincerity. He hoped to make her comfortable here, to ease her transition to ranch living. “You didn’t get much sleep, did you?”

Mrs. Dunleigh’s eyes opened wide, as if she’d overheard them talking about something very intimate. He hadn’t meant it that way. The housekeeper rushed away to the counter, where she fussed over the leftover fruit.

“I guess the long train ride is catching up to me.” Cassandra gave him a pleasant look that indicated a truce. “I’ll be out shortly.”

He put on his black Stetson. “Good. See you then.”

* * *

The truth was Cassandra could hardly move after the strain of last night. Losing her virginity had made her sore. That was one reason for her sluggishness. The other was that, quite frankly, she was still troubled by their argument. She had every right to have been forewarned about Elise Beacon and the possibility of brewing trouble.

Cassandra rose. Moving helped her physical discomfort. After spending a pleasant hour with Mrs. Dunleigh, cleaning the kitchen, airing out the bedroom and being marched through the house to get a feel for where the bed linens and other essentials were kept, Cassandra was feeling more herself.

They were outside hanging laundry on the back line when the dogs ran over. Cassandra bent down and patted Queenie. “Hi, girl.”

She found a stick and threw it for the sheepdogs. Queenie and Caesar tore off to retrieve it, bounding through the long grasses.

“Grandma!” a child’s voice shouted. Cassandra whirled around to see a boy around eight or nine and a girl in her early teens approaching. They had to be brother and sister because they had the same red hair, wide nose and massive freckles.

“Hello!” Mrs. Dunleigh finished pegging a towel to the line, then embraced the children. “Come meet the new lady of the house, Mrs. McColton. Ma’am,” the housekeeper said in her formal British accent, “these are my grandchildren, Julia and Ronald.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said the boy, his own accent strictly American. He stared boldly at her scarred face.

The girl turned a friendly smile to Cassandra, but was much quieter and withdrawn than her brother. She settled behind her grandmother, almost totally shielded from view, but peeking around at Cassandra’s scar, as well.

“Now, children,” Mrs. Dunleigh said curtly, obviously willing them not to stare.

“Hello,” said Cassandra, glad to be among young people. “Can you show me any tricks with the dogs?” she asked Julia.

The adolescent instantly brightened. “They can jump over that stick, if you hold it steady.” She proceeded to show her how Queenie did it, while her brother rolled on the grass with Caesar.

“Ronald,” called Mrs. Dunleigh. “You’ll stain your pants. What on earth will your mother think of me? Get up this instant!”

He jumped up and started playing tag with the dog. “Did it hurt?” he asked Cassandra. “When you got burned?”

“Ronald!” said his grandmother.

“It’s all right, Mrs. Dunleigh.” Obviously, thought Cassandra, they’d been forewarned about her injury. “I don’t remember,” she told the boy. “I don’t remember anything about that day. When I woke up, the doctor gave me something for the pain and then it didn’t hurt too much.”

The children seemed satisfied with the answer.

“See?” Julia held a stick a foot off the ground. Queenie made a dash for it, looking as if she’d run straight into it, then at the last minute lifted her legs and cleared the hurdle. Julia and Cassandra chuckled.

“The laundry’s finished, Mrs. McColton,” said the housekeeper. “If you’d like to join your husband now, I’m sure he’d be pleased to show you the horses.”

Cassandra couldn’t see the stables from where they stood, but figured Jack and his men would see her as she approached. She didn’t relish making a grand entrance, for she’d never enjoyed being the center of attention. But if she stayed away any longer the men might consider her rude. She wanted to meet them, she truly did, but so many people all at once in the last twenty-four hours was intimidating.

Julia must’ve noticed her deliberating, for she offered, “I can go with you. It’s easier with two.”

Cassandra turned in mild surprise. “I imagine you know the stables much better than I do, since you spend so much time with your grandmother. Would you like to be my guide?”

Julia shrugged as if she didn’t truly care one way or another, in true adolescent fashion, but then came readily. They left the housekeeper, and her grandson and the dogs near the laundry lines, and proceeded around the ranch house.

“We came on our own in the buggy. Father lets me drive it in the daytime. Mother’s getting more used to seeing me with the reins, but she won’t allow Ronald yet. She said he has to be able to see over the horses first.”

“How lovely that you live so close to your grandparents. What does your father do in town?”

“Works on the railway. He’s been away since Tuesday. Supposed to come home tomorrow.”

“Ah, I see.”

They turned the corner of the house and noticed a commotion. People were running from all directions. There was a buggy and horse tied to the hitching post, which had to be Julia’s, but there was also another horse, a very large dapple-gray mare, still saddled, and drinking from the water trough. A rugged Winchester rifle was strapped to its back. Who had just arrived?

Men were dashing toward the stables from all sides, coming out of the toolsheds, from the fields, jumping off horses.

Alarmed that someone might be injured, Cassandra sprinted toward the chaos. Julia followed at her heels.

“What is it?” Cassandra asked an older ranch hand, her long skirts swinging about her legs.

“Fight!” the man hollered.

Fight? Who on earth was fighting? Jack would most certainly put a stop to it, whoever it was.

Cassandra raced through the open doors of the stables, then past the stalls and horses toward the back. She and Julia stepped out into the sunshine, where a dozen men crowded around the corral.

Cassandra had a bad feeling. She wrangled her way quietly among the shirts and Stetsons to see what was happening. “Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me.”

She made it to the front, to find two men circling each other.

One of them was Jack.

Good Lord, he wasn’t stopping the brawl, he was in it!

She looked around wildly—wasn’t anyone going to put a halt to this?

A brute as tall and muscled as Jack dashed at him, his large fist raised, but Jack stopped it midair. The man swung again, this time punching him in the stomach. Cassandra winced. Jack doubled over, recovered quickly and retaliated with a slug to the man’s ribs.

“Had enough, Thornley?” Jack cussed.

The man growled. “Stay away from Elise!”

Elise again?

The man took a flying leap and toppled Jack to the ground. They rolled like barbarians.

“Sir,” Cassandra pleaded to the man standing next to her. “Can’t you stop this? This is mad!”

“It’s Jack’s call, ma’am. No one interferes unless he says.”

“Jack!” she shouted, stepping forward. “Stop it! Jack!”

He turned his head momentarily toward her and was rewarded with a right fist to his temple.

She covered her mouth in horror.

“If I hear you ever going near her again,” the stranger yelled, “I’ll rip your heart out!”

Jack rose to his feet, circled, blocked another swing, and this time hit the man’s jaw full force. A tooth went flying. His opponent thumped onto his back, knocked out cold.

Jack swore. Then he went to the water trough, filled a tin cup, walked over to the fallen man and splashed water onto his bloody face.

The man came to, shuddered, then lay there catching his breath. Cassandra tried to step in front of Julia to shield the girl from the violence.

Unfortunately, the brute on the ground seemed to have worse intentions, for he lunged menacingly toward Jack, who was unaware and making his way toward her.

In a flash, Cassandra reached down to the holster of the nearest man, smoothly withdrew his Smith & Wesson, held it up in the air and expertly fired.

The bang startled everyone, including the man about to attack. Jack followed her gaze and sprang around to confront him. Two ranch hands were faster and were already subduing him.

All eyes turned toward Cassandra. She slowly lowered the revolver and passed it back with ease to the dismayed owner.

“I believe this is yours,” she said. “Sorry to take it without permission.”

The man, wearing a plaid shirt and sporting a wide black mustache, shook his head in disapproval. Then perhaps he realized there was no harm done, for a glimmer of amusement entered his eyes. “I trust it won’t happen again.”

Jack wobbled over to her, blood dribbling from his split lip, red lump on his temple, and pulled her out in front of the crowd. “Gentlemen,” he announced in a slur, “I’d like you to meet my wife, Cassandra. And son of a gun, she knows how to shoot.”

Men removed their hats and offered various pleasantries, as if this moment was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Ma’am.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Welcome to Napa.”

Two of them went to help the fallen man to his feet, and the rest dispersed, returning to their tasks.

Cassandra, still reeling from the stupid display of brutality, shook her head at her husband.

“Derik Thornley,” he said to her, nodding at the fellow as a means of introduction. “Excuse me for a moment.” Jack turned and inhaled a few breaths to recover.

Two of Jack’s men escorted Thornley off the premises.

“You’ll pay, McColton!” he shouted as he was dragged out. “For everything you did to her!”

“Don’t bring your sorry ass around here again!” Jack responded.

Obviously, thought Cassandra, Derik Thornley had come onto Jack’s property and attacked him. Jack had every right to defend himself. But wasn’t there a way to do it without the use of fists? And it seemed everyone in town had an opinion about Jack and Elise.

She swung around and noticed Julia still standing there, gaping openmouthed. Cassandra reached over and hugged the girl to her side. “Let’s go find your grandmother.”

They headed off, with Cassandra trying to come to grips with all the facets of her husband’s character.

* * *

Hours later, when things had calmed down and Jack had collected his composure, he found Cassandra again and hauled her out of the house for a walk.

His jaw was mighty sore from his fight with Thornley, but he tried to ignore the throbbing. They stopped in the stables, next to a broodmare who’d be delivering in three months. He gave the horse a pat over the stall boards.

“This one’s real gentle.”

Cassandra fed her some oats.

“How is it that you know how to handle a gun?”

Her mouth puckered in sudden strain, as if she wasn’t quite sure how to answer. But hell, he had a right to know why it was that his wife could handle a firearm.

“Mrs. Pepik at the boardinghouse taught anyone who wanted to learn. Her late husband had been a policeman and had taught her how to defend herself.”

It wasn’t something that the private detective Jack had hired had uncovered. But then again, Jack hadn’t hired him for long, and had been very specific about what he wished to know about Cassandra, focusing on her broken engagement with Troy and what sort of circumstances she’d been living in at the boardinghouse.

“I—I’ve got a derringer pistol that I’m pretty good with.”

He grinned. “Do you now? Do you keep it under your side of the mattress?”

“You might say that.”

“Well, thanks for the fair warning.”

“You don’t mind?” Her lashes fluttered with some hesitation.

“I think Mr. Pepik had the right idea, teaching his wife self-defense.”

Cassandra seemed buoyed by his answer. Her smile widened and her eyes sparkled. Was there something more to this conversation that he was missing? Her silence about the derringer was a bit odd. But before he could think more on that, her demeanor shifted. She frowned and blurted out another question. “Why didn’t you have your men escort Derik Thornley off the ranch as soon as you saw him coming?”

“I didn’t know his intentions. Then he took a swing at me, and I couldn’t just stand there and take it.”