Mary's Men (10 page)

“Hey, Paul. This your new wife?”

The older man squinted his eyes, like he knew something was wrong, but Thomas didn’t confirm or correct him.

Crunching of gravel doubled Thomas’s dread, only to send it through the roof when Paul rounded the corner.

“Hey, Walt, what can I do for you?” Paul asked.

Walter looked from Thomas to Paul and to Mary, understanding of some sort dawning, but the judgment in his expression made Thomas think the older man assumed he was fooling around with his brother’s wife.

“I’m going to take off,” Thomas said, leaving Mary’s side to take away the obvious ammunition for Walt. “Nice to see you, Walt.”

“Yeah, you too, Thomas.”

Thomas rounded the corner as Paul spoke about a hay shipment. He didn’t know what the hell would happen next, but their secret was out.

Chapter 10

Mary couldn’t quite catch her breath. The moment she realized someone saw her kissing Thomas she’d seen their relationship flash before her eyes. They were supposed to have time. Time to settle in, time for her to gain confidence. From the way Walter gawked at her as if she were a cross between a train wreck and fireworks, she figured they had a day or two before the whole damn town knew.

Paul headed into the barn with Walter to finish paperwork, but she didn’t wait for him. The forest trail offered much to explore, but she couldn’t focus. She tried to imagine what her mother would do, or her father. Her mother was a firstwife, the legal spouse. She could kiss and be affectionate in public. The other wives and children could not. Mary always thought it would kill part of her not to be able to hug her dad in public, like her half-sisters. Maybe this was the same. Denying the relationship had been a mistake, and maybe the fact that they’d been found out so quickly, before bitterness grew, was a blessing.

She held onto that thought. Yes, it could be a blessing in disguise. An unexpected, harsh, pointed blessing catapulting her anxiety to a whole new level. She’d never felt so alone, even knowing two men loved her.

Thomas was most likely inside, so she took a seat on the bench outside to compose her thoughts. They were as good as public, or worse, she was a whore and would be painted an adulterer while Paul came out looking like a fool. The last two rocked her spirit. She didn’t want that stigma. Adultery was worse than being called a polygamist. She would rather be known as the woman with too many husbands than the woman who cheated.

Paul finally ambled up the path, the bags under his eyes darker than ever. Long days at meetings wore him out worse than unending days on the ranch, but mixing the two was especially brutal.

She couldn’t let him be known as a fool, so she had to take the polygamist label, even if she wasn’t ready.

He sat beside her with a huge sigh. “So, got caught kissing my brother, eh?”

Her cheeks burned. “He mentioned it?”

“Yep. When I didn’t get pissed… It’s out, Mary. I couldn’t let him spread around a lie when the truth was right there. I told him we’re pligs, that we’re happy and not going to hide. Sometimes showing balls is better than turning tail. What’s the worst that can happen? People start calling us hippies like in California? Free love is supposed to be fashionable.”

Her shoulders ached with tension and irritation, but she agreed in theory. They had to be honest at some point. Better to lead with the truth than make up for a lie.

The door opened and Thomas stepped out.

“Way to go, dumbass,” Paul said.

Mary pressed her hands to her temples as they pulsed to raging life.

“Dumbass? I didn’t do shit. You’re the one who should have a better handle on your business. What the hell was Walter doing here anyway? You miss a shipment? Again?”

Paul pushed to his feet and the scuffle began, like in the house earlier. The added layer of chaos sent her past logical. She needed a break or she would crumble. She stood and stepped through the doorway. The men continued fighting, and in a move she hated, she closed the door. And locked it.

She leaned against it, her head pounding. Even with the door between them she could still hear the scuffling. Fatigue weighed her down. She flipped the light switches off and headed to bed. She’d take an hour of quiet and be ready to let them in. Tomorrow she would feel better and be able to deal with Paul and Thomas. Tomorrow.

* * * *

Paul looked at the cabin door and frowned at the sounds behind it. Thomas shoved him again, but Paul pushed him harder and reached for the doorknob.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Mary? Baby, what’s wrong?”

Thomas wiped the back of his hand over his nose, though Paul hadn’t even punched it. “She doesn’t like the fighting. Shit, I shouldn’t have started in on you. Mar? Let us in, honey. No more fighting.”

“We weren’t fighting.” Paul knew fighting and since Thomas wasn’t bleeding, they’d been talking.

Thomas pounded on the door. Dusk fell and it would be dark soon. Paul didn’t want to be left out in the cold, not when he’d spent the night before not holding Mary while she worried about Thomas. The whole day added up to be the worst yet.

“She sees the squabbling as signs we’re going to break.”

“Shit.” Paul looked through the small window by the kitchen to see Mary in bed, pillows over her head. “She’s not getting up. We really did a number on her. Fuck.” He hated that she felt the need to lock them out.

Thomas scowled at the door.

“This was your fault,” Paul said. “Why didn’t you tell Mom to leave you alone?”

“Really? Tell Mom to leave me alone? Are you kidding?”

Yeah, he was. That didn’t work. Mom didn’t listen. The honeymoon should have lasted longer.

Paul rubbed his face. “So, we tell Mary she’s going to have to get used to us being men. We’re going to yell and hit once in a while.”

Thomas shook his head. “I don’t think that’s what we should do.”

Irritation with his brother still simmering flared again. “Then tell me, oh wise one, what the hell should we do?”

Paul braced because Thomas obviously wasn’t done being pissed either. They’d gone rounds for years, less violent as time passed, but sometimes a punch to the jaw was the only way to properly express displeasure.

Thomas spun and slammed his fist to the grassy ground. The water-thirsty dirt offered no give. Paul winced, sure the action hurt like hell, but at least he’d avoided the gravel.

“That looked stupid,” Paul told him.

Thomas slowly pushed up to his feet, his face red and tight. “I can’t even talk to you.” He stomped off, jerked open the truck door, and slammed it shut behind him.

Evening made the final turn to darkness and Paul knocked at the door again. Mary wouldn’t lock them out for the night. She loved them. He looked through the side window, but found the lights out.

He didn’t particularly want to join his brother, but going to the bunkhouse meant answering questions. Paul swore and headed for the truck. Thomas had most likely cooled down enough to have a rational conversation about how to help Mary understand and get past whatever this latest upset entailed.

Paul pulled open the passenger side door and settled in. Thomas had the driver seat reclined, his hat covering his face. Paul thought about starting the truck for a few minutes to knock the cool edge out of the air, but grabbed an old jacket from the back instead. The nights shouldn’t have been so chilly, but the mountains didn’t follow many rules. Maybe they all needed to sleep off the anger, Thomas included. Paul figured they’d have to work together come morning to face the music on their secret being on the lips of asshats.

“When Mary married us she gave us her trust. She trusts us to love her and do our part to provide for the family we’re building. She can take care of herself but she trusts us to keep her safe. How the hell do we do that when we’re fighting with each other?” Thomas asked, though he didn’t otherwise move or engage.

Paul shifted in his seat. “Just because we’re pissed at each other doesn’t mean we’re mad at her or we’ll ignore our jobs.”

“We know that,” Thomas agreed. “She’s only been here for a few days, and so far our mother has been harsh with her, I screwed up and spent time with another woman, she got put in a tough spot with a neighbor, and now the two of us are scuffling. Tell me where in all that mess she would have been reassured we could do this.”

“Fuck.” He hated when Thomas made sense, especially on a topic where Paul should have seen the details as well. If he’d been paying more attention to Mary instead of work, he might have noticed. “So what do we do?” Paul asked.

“We don’t fight, that’s for damn sure,” Thomas said, though he still didn’t engage past words.

“You’re going to piss me off, we’re going to fight.”

“Then we have to do it out of her sight,” Thomas said. “Telling her she needs to learn to handle it won’t work. But we can go out to the barn and go a couple rounds when you fuck up.”

“Right, because I’m the one who was caught kissing Mary by the neighbor.” Paul shifted deeper into his seat.

“Right, and I’m the one who forgot to deliver a load of hay and then had a nosey neighbor on site on a day the office was supposed to be closed.”

They’d both screwed up. Paul wrapped the coat around himself and tossed the hood over his face. If Mary had hoped to give them time to think, she’d nailed it. He hoped they could learn enough to never have to sleep in the truck again.

Chapter 11

Mary flipped the bacon in the skillet and returned the lid. Fresh cinnamon rolls baked, their sugar and spice permeating the cabin. She’d woke early to a lonely bed and guilt so intense she’d commenced baking. She checked the rolls before heading to the door. The men still slept in the truck, but now the door was unlocked and she left it open a crack so they could see.

She should have taken an hour and then invited them back inside, but she’d fallen asleep. Instead of making amends, she’d gone to bed angry and subjected them to doing the same…only in the stinking truck.

Her mother would give her hell for a week if she ever learned about it. Mary didn’t always agree with the way her mother’s life worked, which was why she’d stayed away instead of returning home after reaching adulthood, but if there was one thing her mother excelled at it was family. Her parents had been happy. Mary craved happiness, cohesion, and if not bliss, then safety and love.

She wouldn’t get any of it if on the sight of any trouble she closed out the ones who loved her most. Mary headed back to the stove, hoping a hot breakfast and open door would put them back on track. As she set the last slice of bacon to drain, the door opened. She turned and smiled, though her stomach jumped with nerves.

“Hi, boys,” she called as Thomas and Paul entered, both wrinkled and moving slowly. “Breakfast is almost ready. The coffee is fresh too.”

“Smells good in here.” Paul kissed her cheek before going to the coffee pot.

Thomas followed at a distance, but she knew he wanted coffee too. He always did. She’d developed a taste for it as well, but she’d already had three cups and didn’t think more would help. Thomas stopped in front of her, and where Paul kissed and ran, Thomas stared at her a long moment. She met his gaze. She respected him, but would never be the submissive wife her mother tried to raise. Mary might want parts of what her mother had, but she couldn’t do it the same way.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Thomas rested his palms on her shoulders. “Paul is too. We’re going to do better.”

She rubbed his knuckles, thankful to have him close again. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have locked you out. I didn’t intend to leave you out for the night. I just needed a break, but I fell asleep.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Paul kissed her hair as he passed with the tray of bacon. “Spending the night in the truck cooled us off and made us talk to each other. We’ll do better. Cinnamon rolls look great. You’re a really good cook.”

She’d expected anger from them, but as Thomas left her and grabbed the coffee, they seemed all right. None of the anger from the evening before lingered between them. Maybe she’d read too much into their fighting. Or maybe the night in the truck had done as Paul said and given them time to cool off.

She took her cup and joined them at the table. She sipped her coffee before she remembered she’d already had too much. It cut the richness of the bacon and rolls, though, so she threw caution to the wind and had a fourth cup. Maybe she’d use the energy to scrub the floors.

“What’s the plan for today?” Mary asked.

Paul shrugged. “Work.”

Thomas looked similarly unthrilled. “I have to be at the office by nine.”

Both men finished off a second roll and most of the bacon before their second cups of coffee. Mary checked the clock, pleased to find they had nearly an hour before Thomas had to leave. Paul usually left earlier, but he didn’t appear to be in any rush.

“We had a fight yesterday.” Mary stood, tossing her napkin beside her plate. “I feel there needs to be a physical reconnection after the emotional amends we made this morning.”

* * * *

Thomas tried to decipher the double meaning of Mary’s words. When she began unbuttoning her shirtwaist dress, he caught her meaning loud and clear.

He moved the dishes and remaining food from the table. She cocked her eyebrow, but dropped her dress and sat on the table. Her height left her legs dangling slightly, but not for long. He stepped between her thighs and hiked her legs around his waist until her ankles locked. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“I like how this is going.” She rubbed her breasts against his chest. “Hard and fast.”

Her sexual confidence had grown by leaps and bounds since their first encounter and now when Paul handed him a condom, Thomas was ready to follow her orders.

He reached between their bodies to tease her clit but she swatted his hand aside and scooted to the edge of the table, squeezing her legs until the tip of his penis slid into her opening. She nipped at his neck, the tight, hard kisses matched by the way she squeezed her vagina muscles. He bent his knees and thrust forward, the welcome met with a gasp and sexy groan from Mary.