An Unwilling Husband (15 page)

Clutching the robe to her chest, she let her frustration show on her face.

“I need to go into town for a supply run and to grab Cookie and the boys. Thought maybe you’d like to come along.”

His offer took her aback but she nodded stiffly.

“Good. Oh, and I like the yellow dress you’ve been wearin’. Get dressed and I’ll hitch up the mules.” With that crooked smile that made her insides do flip flops, he left.

So he liked the yellow dress? The wine colored one it was then. She threw the other pillow at the door for good measure.

* * * *

During the first quiet, and at times, awkward hour of the ride into town, Garret didn’t seem willing to talk, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to start a conversation with him. Though she sat beside him in the buggy, she found herself inching further away so she wouldn’t accidentally touch and upset him.

Truth be told, she understood his fears. She didn’t like them, but appreciated where he was coming from. And that she’d thought the boy she’d known and the man he was now didn’t resemble each other irked her. As it happened, they were different in most ways but one. Garret was still an honorable person who protected those he cared about. She just didn’t know if she fit into that category yet. Or if she ever would.

Best to start slowly. Being friends would have to somehow be enough.

In truth, he had been unknown to her from the moment his angry glare lit on her face the first time at Roy’s homestead. The memory of his hatred made her shiver.

Garret watched her, his expression curious.

She steeled herself. “I was thinking of how much you hated me when you saw me at Roy’s place. The first day, when you hadn’t recognized me?”

Garret nodded solemnly. No use denying it.

“The way you looked at me— I never want to earn that look again, I guess is what I’m trying to say.”

He snorted. “Woman, you’ll probably earn that look from me once a day at least. You get mad as a badger and have a mouth to match. I think I’d be worried if you weren’t pissin’ me off somehow.”

She tried not to laugh. Truly she did. Encouraging him wouldn’t help in the least. But sometimes, as her mother would say, American men were so brash, which unfortunately was amusing. Garret Shaw was as red-blooded American as they came. “Mmm, well, I do find it my duty to keep you on your toes now that we are married. I mean, it wouldn’t do to be mindlessly happy all the time, now would it?”

A short, booming laugh erupted from him, and he shook his head. He was quiet for a long time then said, “My ma and pa were happy,” watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“Roy and my mother were happy, from what I can remember,” she told him. “But I’m sure any woman would have been happy with Roy. He was a kind and devoted man.” Her heart hurt, just talking about the dear man, her true father. “I always wondered why he didn’t take another wife and have children of his own.”

“He thought about it sometimes. We’d talk about it before I went off to finish my schoolin’. He just thought you and your ma were it for him though, and he found peace with it. He said he was happier than any one man should be when he had you two. Said it would be unfair for him to be lucky enough to find that kind of happiness twice, so he gave up before he tried.”

In no way did she want Garret to see her cry, but stubborn tears filled her eyes and sought escape despite her determination to keep them at bay. She subtly dashed a gloved hand over her eyes, but he must have caught the movement. His intense gaze followed her in that uncanny way of his.

She turned away, feigned interest in the landscape. Garret pulled her hand into the crook of his arm and patted it. Sometimes he surprised her with his unexpected tenderness, and at times like this, made her hope she could be more to him.

That notion, she squashed like she would a mosquito. He was clear about his feelings. If he toyed with her emotions, he didn’t mean to.

“I know it meant a lot that you kept writing to Roy.” A faraway look in his eyes, he leaned back and smiled. “He’d always tell me when he got a letter in the post from you. It’s all he would talk about for a week. Never got the hint that I didn’t want to hear how great you were doin’. Or maybe he did. He just didn’t care, is more likely.”

His words eased the hole in her chest, made her smile. “Can I hold the reins?”

Eyebrows arched, he said, “You want to learn to drive ’em?”

“Well, why not? What if I needed to drive the buggy someday and didn’t know how to do it?”

He handed the mules over and she leaned forward in the creaking seat.

“Don’t clench the reins. Let them loose and manageable in your hands. It’s kind of like riding Buck,” he explained. “Your saddle’s just further back and you’re commanding two horses instead of one. Turn slowly with the curve in the road.”

She pulled the leather strip in her left hand, but not enough.

“More,” he encouraged. “You won’t break them, and the one on the right will test you if he thinks you’re soft.” He relaxed into the jouncing chair and propped his boots up on the foot board.

She thought he would take the reins back when they pulled onto Main Street, but he let her drive right up to the General Store. Then he hopped out and jogged over to her side of the buggy.

“Here, let me.” He reached for her waist and lifted her gently to the ground. His strong grip stayed firmly on her hips and she rested her hands on his chest.

He was so handsome. She felt faint when their bodies were so close. It seemed as if the noise from the town faded to nothing when she looked into his eyes. Such a masculine, mesmerizing, mysterious creature he was. Did he have this effect on all women? He must. Garret Shaw’s features couldn’t be lost on others of her gender. He was too well built to be missed.

Someone whistled behind her, breaking the moment. “I got a room at the Brass Buckle if you two want it.” Burke headed their way with a huge smile on his face.

With a gasp, she pulled away from Garret. His hands hovered near her waist for an instant longer and a look she couldn’t decipher crossed his face. Regret? It was quickly replaced by a good natured glare for Burke.

“You boys ever comin’ back to the ranch?” Garret asked him.

“Eh, we figured we’d give you two newlyweds some time alone.” Burke stopped in front of them and removed his hat and bowed gallantly. “Mrs. Shaw.”

“Ridiculous man. Stand up,” she said, self-conscious. Passersby were staring but she couldn’t help being flattered by his swift and apparent acceptance of her.

“Gather the boys. We’re picking up supplies and then we’ll head back.”

Burke nodded and replaced his hat. “You got it, boss.”

As he strode off, movement by the dressmaker’s shop and stifled laughter on the wind caught her attention. A trio of women shot her catty looks and snickered. One was Anna Jennings.

Her smile faded with hurt. Why she still let rude women affect her feelings, she didn’t know.

Garret held the door open for her and they entered the small general store. Out of the direct line of sight of the whispering women, much to her relief.

While Garret talked to a short man with glasses behind the counter, she browsed the store. When she’d lived there before, the town had barely existed, much less a store, which had been more of a small and smelly open market. The little town of Rockdale had come leaps and bounds since then, no doubt due to the railroad and the illustrious new designation of cattle town. The store even boasted a small assortment of curtains to decorate cabin windows.

“Do you like those?” Garret’s voice sounded close to her ear and his soft breath tickled the fine hairs on her neck. He was deliciously near, forcing her to take a moment before she answered to avoid her voice quavering.

“I was just thinking of how far this place has come since I lived here last.” Bravely she turned and faced him, and he only pulled back a little, to her delight.

“I was thinking—” he started.

“Oh no, a dangerous pastime to be sure.”

He graced her with an arched eyebrow and continued. “The cabin could use a woman’s touch. Not too much, mind you, but it could use better curtains over the front windows if you want to pick some out.”

“How about this one?” She held up a gaudy, bright pink, floral printed length of fabric.

Garret’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “If that is what you really want.”

He looked as if he already regretted his offer, and she giggled. In the end, she chose a pair of solid blue curtains. She didn’t tell him they were the color of his eyes or that it was the biggest reason she wanted them. He probably wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment.

“I think I shall purchase a length of white ribbon from the dressmaker’s shop to use as a tie for them,” she told him.

Garret added the curtains onto a growing pile of provisions on the counter and threw a distracted look at the list of what the ranch would need between now and their next trip to town. “All right, meet me back at the wagon after you are finished. I’m almost done here.” He handed her a few coins to cover the cost of the ribbon, and she exited the store, the tinkling bell above the door announcing her departure.

That she was enjoying a trip into town with Garret was unexpected, and she did so like surprises. Most surprises, anyway.

Chapter 10

The three gossiping women were thankfully gone when Maggie wandered through the door to the dressmaker’s shop. The last thing she wanted was another run-in with Garret’s slighted betrothed. The tiny woman likely bore a wealth of malice. A theory Maggie was utterly uninterested to test.

After purchasing a length of white ribbon, she stopped to inspect the windows of the dressmaker’s shop. The dresses on display were of plainer quality than she was used to. Less elegant, to be sure, but the differences made the plain fashion more functional for her new life.

Such functionality made the deep red dress she wore even prettier than when she first bought it. Maybe because it was more comfortable than the dresses she was used to, but more likely, that hungry admiration on Garret’s face when he’d seen her in it for the first time that morning.

Though Aunt Margaret had often spoken of what a plain creature she was, she could wear a dress. Her dressmakers often remarked on her fine figure. She would take their word over her ornery old Aunt Margaret’s any day. If for no other reason than they’d had kinder compliments that were easier for her to swallow.

A man cleared his throat behind her and she spun around with a smile, expecting Garret to be there.

Though her husband was a stranger to her, this man was most certainly not him. His dark blue eyes were familiar, but nothing else. Tall with graying hair and a humorless posture, he was an older gentleman. From the gold watch fob draped across his waistcoat to the perfect stitching of his jacket, for a town such as Rockdale, his dress was impeccable. He came from money. Walked with the confidence of a man who knew his place above others in the world. Indeed, he was at the top of the food chain. That much was evident, even before he opened his mouth to speak.

“Mrs. Shaw, I presume? I’m Clint Jennings. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

The reason for his slight familiarity made sense. Clint’s eyes looked eerily similar to his son Wyatt’s.

“Maggie Shaw,” she responded with a small curtsey, and looked around for Garret or Burke. Anybody she recognized would do, as her unease grew the longer this man took in her appearance. He was indeed a man used to getting everything he wanted, before he even wanted it.

“My daughter has told me some distressing news and I’d like to speak with you on it. If you don’t mind, of course.” The look on his face said he didn’t give a fig whether she minded or not.

“I assume this is about my marriage to Garret?”

A stodgy smile painted Clint’s face but failed to reach his eyes. He looked around. They had gathered the attention of onlookers. “Would you like to join me somewhere more private, Mrs. Shaw? I wouldn’t want these people to get the wrong impression.”

“Actually, I have to meet my husband. I am already overdue and must go, but it was nice to meet you.”

Jennings didn’t take hints very well. He grabbed her elbow and dragged her to a lane between the buildings.

“Unhand me, sir,” she protested, shock giving way to indignation. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and rubbed the limb’s throbbing area.