Matt (The Cowboys) (23 page)

She had begun looking for things to do for Matt, to attract his attention, to show her appreciation. She repaired rips in his clothing. She decided to plant a garden, intending to can and preserve the surplus. Despite promising herself she wouldn’t change anything in the house, she found her thoughts wandering to ways to make the rooms feel less Spartan. Maybe she could talk with Isabelle.

But Matt stood at the center of it all. Regardless of what Will said, Ellen knew she didn’t love Matt. And not being in love with him was a problem.

Matt was the most attractive man she’d ever met. She never tired of looking at him. Despite hair the color of new com silk, his face was ruggedly masculine. His well-muscled body was a testament to the hard physical work he did every day. He moved with a fluid grace that was almost feline in the way his powerful muscles rippled and flowed when he walked. There couldn’t be a woman anywhere who wouldn’t melt at one of his smiles.

So why hadn’t she fallen in love with him? He was considerate, kind, and gentle, as well as courageous and protective, all the things a woman wants in a husband and rarely finds. His mere presence could light a fire in her loins, but he didn’t light that spark in her heart or set off that emotional reaction that caused people to love each other despite overwhelming odds. Her mind appreciated him, her body lusted after him, but her heart remained untouched.

She didn’t know what kind of man could cause her to overcome her disgust of men, cause her to rethink her vow never to marry, but she was certain she would know him when she saw him. He didn’t have to be so handsome as Matt, or as charming. He might not even be as kind and thoughtful, but he would sweep into her life and change everything forever. He would be her shield and her protector. He would be a man of such forceful presence that people would step out of his way without realizing they were doing it.

“I hope we get a few days’ rest before he shows up again,” Matt said.

The sound of his voice, as smooth and dark as chocolate, shattered Ellen’s musings. She looked up to encounter Matt’s dazzling smile. It warmed her all the way down to her toes, and she felt a pang of regret. Why couldn’t she love this man? Why couldn’t like, respect, trust, and mutual friendship be enough?

“It’s going to seem awfully quiet around here,” she said. “The kids will miss him.”

“They’ll soon settle back into their routine.”

“Is routine that important to you?”

His expression changed. He seemed to be measuring her.

“It’s important to the boys. It gives them the feeling of security they need. You like variety, challenges, because you’re strong. You already feel safe and secure.”

Was Matt right? If so, it had only happened since coming to the ranch. “What about you? Don’t you want something else?”

His face closed down, as if he had pulled shutters across a window. “I want what the boys need.”

That’s what bothered her. He was a shell. He did what was best for others because there wasn’t anybody inside of him with wants of his own. “I’m not talking about the boys or the kids. I’m talking about you. If there wasn’t anybody to consider but yourself, what would you want?”

“All I’ve ever wanted is to help boys like Toby and Orin. Do you need anything done around the house today?”

He had closed her out again. He didn’t mind people looking at his exterior, but he kept the real Matt Haskins shut away. “The kids and I can handle everything.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Plan a garden. We need vegetables.”

“If you need any help, ask Isabelle. She loves gardens. When you decide where you want it, I’ll break up the ground.”

“What will you do today?”

“Work with the horses.”

“Then you can come up to the house for lunch.”

“The boys and I will fix something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll send Noah to tell you when it’s ready.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I can’t cook as well as you, but it won’t give you a stomachache.”

She regretted her words immediately, but she was angry and wanted to strike out. He was too agreeable, too capable, too perfect. Why couldn’t he have towering rages, be unreasonable, get drunk at least once? He didn’t need a wife. He was complete in himself. That made her feel useless and inadequate. She was certain he could raise all four of the kids perfectly well by himself.

As for himself, he didn’t need anything. He didn’t exist. He was just a mirage. A beautiful, insubstantial, rigidly controlled mirage.

“Everything you’ve cooked has been very good,” Matt said.

“Toby doesn’t think so.”

There she went again, saying what she didn’t want to say.

“He’ll stop needling you once he stops feeling threatened.”

The children were coming back, strung out in a line from the fastest, Toby, to the slowest, Tess.

“Can I ride that piebald?” Toby asked when he reached Matt. “You said I could train one of my own this time.”

“Maybe you’d better start with that sorrel mare. She’s not likely to eat you alive.”

“I told him that piebald would stomp his guts out,” Orin said, breathless from trying to keep up with Toby.

“No mustang is going to stomp my guts out,” Toby declared.

“You two head over to the corrals and get things ready,” Matt said. “I’ll be along in a minute.”

Ellen had expected Matt to leave her to deal with Noah’s disappointment at being left out, but she should have known better. Matt never left her without support.

The first words out of Noah’s mouth were, “Where are Toby and Orin going?” The next, “Can I go, too?”

“Ellen is planning a garden and she needs someone to help her lay it out.”

“I don’t know nothing about gardens,” Noah said.

“None of us does,” Matt said, “but we have to learn. I’m depending on you to figure it out so you can tell me and the boys what to do.”

That put things in a different light. “Does Tess have to help?” She had come up right behind Noah. She was younger, but she could run nearly as fast as her brother.

“Grandmama said I could have flowers,” she said.

Noah was reluctant to call Isabelle grandmama, but Tess couldn’t wait to call all her new relations by their titles. She had already mastered the aunts, but she couldn’t remember all her male cousins. Ellen didn’t encourage her. It would make it harder when it came time to move to San Antonio.

“I’m not planting any flowers,” Noah said.

“You just help pick the spot and lay out the garden,” Matt said.

“Can I help plow?”

“Sure.”

Ellen didn’t know how he could help unless Matt perched him on the plow while he guided it.

“Okay,” Noah said, “as long as I can help plow.” His lower lip protruded. “Can I break my horse?”

“You’ll have to help,” Matt said. “He’ll need to know how to respond to your commands, not mine.”

That was enough for Noah. He would help with a hundred gardens as long as he got to help train his own horse.

Matt headed toward the corrals, wondering what he’d done to upset Ellen. She’d made it clear from the beginning that she didn’t mean to be tied down by the usual chores expected of a wife. Yet for the last few days, she’d gotten angry every time he offered to help. When they first got married, he’d thought he understood her. They had worked out the logistics of merging their households with a minimum of trouble. They’d quickly fallen into a pattern of working together to prepare the meals that lately had fallen more and more to Ellen because he had been so busy breaking the new horses. Now the hardest work was done, he’d expected she’d want him to start helping again so she’d have more time to make hats. He didn’t understand her anger at his offering to help.

She had started to feel comfortable around him. She had stopped sleeping so close to the edge of the bed that she was in danger of falling off. She didn’t act like touching him was more dangerous than touching a hot stove. She’d started cleaning, polishing, darning, and rearranging some of the furniture, even a few of the pictures.

Matt altered his path to avoid stepping in some horse droppings.

Ellen also let him touch her. Nothing significant. Just reaching out to get her attention before he spoke to her; to hold her hand as she got into the buggy, climbed the steps, needed help with a heavy package or a pail of milk. She didn’t flinch if they brushed against each other. She didn’t lie in stiff silence after he got into bed. Every day he saw new signs that her fear of him was waning, that her life on the ranch was beginning to grow on her. So why this sudden wall of anger?

Toby came running up as soon as Matt approached the corrals. “Which horse are you going to ride first?”

“The piebald,” Matt replied. “He acts like he’s not going to fight anymore, but I don’t like the look in his eyes.”

Like Ellen, He hoped she wouldn’t pull away from him, but he didn’t like the look in her eyes.

“I don’t like him,” Orin said. “He’s ugly.”

“Piebalds usually are,” Matt said, “but this one has the makings of a good saddle horse. We just have to convince him he’ll be happy on the ranch.”

That was pretty much what he had to do with Ellen. Until she suddenly appeared in a new dress and makeup, he’d been certain she didn’t miss her old life. Now he wondered if she missed all the attention and excitement.

“What horse is Orin going to ride?” Toby asked.

“You got one picked out?” Matt asked.

“I’m still thinking,” Orin said. “How many do I get?”

He hoped Ellen was still thinking, but it looked like she might have made up her mind. He didn’t like confrontations, but he had to find out what was wrong. He could tell himself that he wasn’t comfortable around women, that he was only good with horses, cows, and boys, but damnit, he wanted more than that. He’d probably have accepted that as enough if he hadn’t been forced into this marriage. But he had been, and now he didn’t want to give it up. Or the possibility of more. He’d bent over backward to be kind, thoughtful, and helpful. It was time to try something more direct.

“Bring out the piebald, boys. It’s time he learned who’s boss.”

“We got it all done,” Noah announced to Matt at lunch.

“Did you write down all the things you want to plant?”

“I can’t write,” Noah reminded him, “but Ellen wrote down lots of stuff.” He made a face. “I hope I don’t have to eat everything.”

“What don’t you like?” Matt asked.

“Brussel sprouts,” Noah replied. “Mrs. Ogden tried to make me eat them all the time.”

“I’m going to plant lots and lots of flowers,” Tess announced. “Grandmama said no lady can have too many flowers.”

“Plant lots of potatoes,” Toby said. “I like potatoes with everything.”

“Sometimes I think he could live on nothing else as long as you give him a little sausage now and then,” Matt said.

“I like potatoes,” Toby said.

“I like corn,” Orin said. “Beans, too.”

“I hate beans,” Noah said.

“You can’t hate beans and be a good cowboy,” Matt said. “Beans and bacon: That’s a cowboy’s diet when he’s on the trail.”

Ellen knew Noah’s ambition was to be a cowboy and ride the trail to Kansas with the Maxwells when they took their herd to Dodge. “He’s talking about lima beans,” she said.

Everybody spent the next few minutes telling Matt what they wanted in the garden and how many rows they should plant. No one seemed to give a thought to the food they were eating, the meal Ellen had worked so hard to prepare. She hadn’t had to cook at the Lowells or in the saloon. Fixing an entire meal wasn’t easy for her. She’d been greatly relieved when everything turned out okay. Now even Matt ate without appearing to be aware of what he put into his mouth. It was a wonder any woman settled for being a wife and mother, to cook, clean, wash, and have her work taken for granted.

All she had to do was make one spectacular hat and she would receive praise as well as money. Her skills would be recognized and applauded. She would be pointed out on the street, admired by other women.

But she had to admit she derived a certain satisfaction from fixing a meal everyone ate eagerly. She also liked seeing Matt and the children gathered around the table, happily discussing something as ordinary as planting a garden. It gave her a kind of satisfaction that seeing her hat on another woman’s head never had. She didn’t know why this feeling should be so strong, or why it should be growing stronger each day. She supposed it was the same reason that caused her to love April’s children as if they were her own. It answered a need inside her that had nothing to do with praise, reward, or recognition.

“This will look more like a farm than a ranch,” Ellen said when the conversation moved from strawberries and grapes to apples, peaches, and pears.

“But we like all that stuff,” Toby said.

“Then I hope you’ll be willing to help me pick, shell, peal, cut up, can, and make jelly. Not one single pea or apple will march out of that garden and prepare itself.”

Blank looks stared back at her. It obviously hadn’t occurred to any of them that a garden would be a great deal of work.