Colorado Bride (5 page)

He couldn’t understand why she kept nagging at his mind. She was a married woman, and Lucas had never allowed himself to even think of messing around with another man’s wife. You could kill a man for that, not that he was afraid of Robert Simpson, it was just that he held to a very strict code of behavior. God only knows, if she’d been his woman, he’d have been tempted to kill any man who even looked at her hard.

He had to stop thinking like this. He was getting himself all worked up over nothing. Carrie Simpson didn’t even like him. She probably wouldn’t like any man of the West. The way she dismissed him smacked of old-fashioned Eastern society, snooty women and stuffy men, all complacent in the security of well-organized towns with a tradition of orderliness and a police force to see it was maintained. She’d never survive out here where there were few rules and those had to be enforced with fists or guns. It was for damned certain Jason Staples wouldn’t fade away into the night just because she looked down her pert little nose at him. And there was nothing about her golden brown eyes or pursed mouth to discourage a man either. Oh, they could look daggers at you and say awful words, but her lips were meant to be kissed, and her eyes seemed to be issuing the invitation.

She was such a dainty little thing, she didn’t even come to his shoulder, it was hard to see how she could stand up to anybody, although he had been right impressed with the way she squared off against Baca Riggins. Of course, she would have had to leave on that stage if he hadn’t intervened, but he was certain she would have come back. With her husband! He had to try harder to remember her husband. Maybe then he could get over the feeling of wanting to wrap his arms around her and stay close so nothing could happen to her. Maybe when her husband got here, he could get rid of the feeling that if he let her out of his sight for as much as a minute, he would never forgive himself.

He tried to concentrate on the trunks he was moving, but that was no help. Those trunks were important to Carrie, and that made them important to him. He cursed. Maybe it was time to go bronco hunting. He sure needed to bust something.

Chapter 3

“I’m thinking the stage will be here any minute, Mrs. Simpson,” Katie said as she checked the gravy and prepared to put the ears of corn into boiling water. “Why don’t ye take off your apron and meet them on the porch?”

“I can’t leave you to do all the work.”

“’Tis nothing left to do. Faith, once they get the smell of food in their nostrils, ‘twill be all ye can do to get out of their way.”

“It would make a nice impression, wouldn’t it, especially after Mr. Riggins?”

“A wild-eyed mustang would make a good impression after Baca Riggins,” Katie declared emphatically. “Besides, men always feel better when they’re around a nice-looking woman.”

“Do you think I have time to change?” Carrie asked, looking with disfavor at her plain working dress. “And I know my hair is falling down my back.”

“For certain there’s time, but it wouldn’t matter if they were to see you just like you are now. Like I’ve been telling ye, you’ll still be the best thing they’ve seen in a long time.”

Carrie blushed with pleasure as she hurried off to the room at the back of the station. When she emerged ten minutes later she had changed her dress, washed her face, and put her hair up under a cap which was a charming confection of lace and ribbons.

“Ye look fresh as a daisy, ma’am,” Katie said. “Nobody would ever guess you had worked like a galley slave to make this place look decent.”

“They will if they remember what it looked like before,” Carrie said, pleased but embarrassed by Katie’s admiration. Suddenly an unbidden thought sprang into her mind. Would Lucas think she looked fresh as a daisy? Carrie was shocked to the core. She didn’t care what Lucas thought. She didn’t know a thing about the man, and she didn’t much like him either. Well, she hesitated, maybe she
was
vaguely interested. Anybody who looked that attractive had to be just a little bit interesting. She conceded reluctantly that she was curious about him, but not in a serious way. He radiated an undeniable physical attraction and there was an air of mystery about him she found intriguing, but he wasn’t at all the kind of man she would have chosen for a husband.

Carrie chuckled to herself. The very idea of Lucas Barrow being married, especially to her, was funny. She could just see him with her family, his luminous silver-gray eyes glowing intently as her sisters-in-law tried to flirt with him and her father tried to discover his opinion of the long-term effects of Reconstruction on the South. But that wasn’t half as absurd as trying to picture her in some sod shanty or a mudand-stick lean-to, cooking venison over an open fire and happily bedding down under the stars, oblivious to the rain, sleet, or freezing cold. No, they had nothing in common, and the sooner she dispelled the mystery that hung about him and put him out of her mind, the better. The rattle of the incoming stagecoach broke Carrie’s train of thought and she hurried out on the porch to meet her first customers.

It seemed to Carrie that most of the passengers must have been regular users of the stage. They climbed out grumbling about the dinner they thought awaited them, but the first man no sooner set eyes on Carrie than he knew something was different. He perked up, whispered something to his companion, and hurried up to the station.

“Howdy, ma’am. My name’s Lloyd Finlay. Am I indulging in foolish fancy to hope that seeing you on these steps means somebody finally sent Baca Riggins packing?”

“I’m Mrs. Robert Simpson, and Mr. Riggins no longer works for the Overland Stage Company. Beginning today, my husband and I will be managing this station.” The man let out a cowboy yell and called to his friend.

“Hurry up, Grady. There just might be something we can eat on the table this time.” The passengers wasted no time getting their legs under the table, and in the rush to get everyone served, it was some minutes before Carrie realized the driver had not come in. She stepped out on the porch to call him to his dinner before it got cold and saw Lucas helping him change the team. No one saw Carrie’s flush of mortification, but she didn’t feel it any less. This was her station, but she had been so busy thinking about food and getting herself prettied up to make a good impression on the passengers, she had entirely forgotten that the real purpose of the station was to provide fresh horses for the stage. That there was no one to change the team because Buck had walked off the job along with Baca and Cody.

She stood there on the porch, miserable, unable to make herself go down to the men and offer an apology, unwilling to go inside and ignore her failure, and undecided about what she was going to do next time. She was bitterly disappointed in herself. By means of a willful deception, she had set herself to take on a man’s job, and she had been so concerned with what a woman would naturally think of first—food and cleaning—that she had forgotten all about what a man would think of first—die horses. If she was to do this job well enough to keep it, she was going to have to learn to think like a man as well as a woman.

Lucas led the exhausted team away after helping hitch up the new team, and Carrie made herself wait on the porch until the driver had come close enough to speak to. He didn’t look the slightest bit pleased to see her waiting for him instead of Baca Riggins. In fact, from the frown on his face, Carrie wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have preferred Baca.

“I’m sorry you had to help change the horses, but there’s no one here but myself. Mr. Barrow has been kind enough to lend a hand for the time being.”

“He’s good enough for now, but it ain’t his line of work,” replied Harry Keller.

“I’m sure it isn’t, but I expect to have someone for the position in a day or two. Come on inside and eat your dinner before it’s all gone.”

They had prepared too much food for there to be any danger of that, but Carrie was surprised and pleased to see with what purpose the passengers had attacked their dinner. No one spoke except to ask someone to pass a bowl or platter. Carrie helped Katie refill all the dishes and then stepped back outside to wait for Lucas. She didn’t know where he was in the habit of eating his meals, but after all the work he had done for her today, providing him with a dinner was the very least she could do to show her appreciation.

When several minutes had passed and he hadn’t appeared in the yard or at the corral, she decided to walk down to the barn. He had stabled and fed the horses and was rubbing them down.

“Come on up to the station when you’re finished and have some dinner, Mr. Barrow.” Lucas turned to Carrie and for a brief moment she thought she saw something stir in his eyes. Then it was gone and a hard look settled over them. It’s the least I can offer for all the work you’ve done for me today.”

“I’ve got to take care of the horses. And then the harnesses have to be cleaned.”

“Surely that can wait until after you eat.”

“The horses can’t, and the harnesses are easier to clean before the salt dries on them.”

“Okay, but I insist you let me give you dinner whenever you finish. Katie and I will wait to have our meal until after we clean up, so you can sit down with us. And there’s always a pot of coffee on the stove. Help yourself at any time.”

“Much obliged, Mrs. Simpson. Maybe I will come up and sit a spell. A man can get tired of his own company sometimes, and horses don’t always fill the void.”

Carrie couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t think I’ve ever been told my company was only occasionally preferable to that of a horse, but I suppose I’ll hear worse before I’ve been here very long.” This time she was certain she saw something in his eyes. Warmth, interest maybe, but definitely something other than the granite look she had come to expect. She even thought there might have been a slight movement of the muscles in his mouth, but that was probably wishful dunking. After all, she had never met a man who was so impervious to her charm, and she couldn’t help but feel piqued that she had had to talk him into having dinner with her rather than eating alone, or worse yet, with a barn full of horses.

“Come on up when you’re ready. There’ll be plenty left over. And Mr. Barrow, I want to thank you for helping out with the horses. I’m ashamed to admit I never even thought about them. I expect the owners wouldn’t be very pleased with me if they knew.”

“It’s only natural for a woman to think of food first. I expect your husband will take care of the horses when he gets here.”

“Of course,” Carrie muttered, and headed back to the station.

You ought to eat in your cabin, Lucas told himself. Even if you are a terrible cook, it’s safer to eat your own cooking than to be around that women too often. She’s married, forbidden territory. Her husband will be here any day now, and he’d have every right to shoot you for what you’re thinking.

But Lucas couldn’t stop himself from thinking of Carrie’s pursed mouth and the upturned nose that gave her the look of a pixie. She was a small woman, too small to be ideal actually, but she had a beautiful face and a perfectly formed body. Lucas ached to put his arms around her slim waist, to rest her head against his chest. He could almost smell the freshness of her scent, that faint smell of lavender that hovered around her. He wanted to reach out and touch her skin, to feel the softness of her, to experience her warmth. He wanted to protect her, to keep her from having to clean up after Baca Riggins.

What kind of man was her husband to send her out here alone? Didn’t he know it was dangerous to allow a woman like Carrie to travel without protection? In all fairness to the yet unknown Mr. Simpson, he probably didn’t know about Baca Riggins and had expected no trouble, but wouldn’t it have been more reasonable for him to come out early and let her wait in comfort in Denver for whatever it was that was so important? He’d have to talk with him when he arrived. This wasn’t the kind of thing Lucas felt comfortable doing and he knew it could set trouble between him and Robert Simpson right from the start, but the man obviously knew nothing about the West. Somebody was going to have to explain a few important facts to him in a hurry. He couldn’t have Carrie’s well-being threatened just because her husband was a tenderfoot. He probably was a very good man and Lucas was certain Carrie loved him very much, but they both had a lot to learn if they wanted to prosper in Colorado.

And he had better get Carrie out of his mind, or he might as well go back to Denver and send someone else to look for Jason Staples. The way things were with him just now, they could probably take the gold right from under his nose and he wouldn’t even notice.

“That’s the best meal I ever had on a stage line, Mrs. Simpson,” Lloyd Finlay said as he got up from the table. “I’ve been telling Duncan Bickett for years he ought to get some women on the line. There’s nothing like a female in the kitchen.”

Thank you.”

“Looking forward to meeting Mr. Simpson. Shouldn’t have sent you alone ahead. Can’t expect a woman to do a man’s job, even for a few days.”

There was something about Finlay’s manner that Carrie had found irritating from the start, but there was no question about the effect of his words on her temper.

“I think you’ll find you’ve greatly underestimated women, Mr. Finlay,” Carrie said with a forced smile. “There’s a great deal a woman can do beside cook, clean, and have children.”

“Now ma’am, you know a woman loses some of her appeal, some of that softness a man likes so much, when she steps out of her proper place.”