Heart of Mine (Bandit Creek) (4 page)

"To the house," she answered. It wasn't home. A home should overflow with love.

"Plan on walking?"

Her chin came up. She met his narrowed gaze with one of her own. "Since it got me here fine, I'm sure it'll get me back the same way."

She'd barely finished her sentence before he was pulling her along the street in the opposite direction of the ranch.

"Jake! Jake, let me go!"

The wind carried her voice. Or maybe he was simply ignoring her. Either way his grip remained firm as he turned onto Main Street and headed for the stables. Rocks crunched under her boots. Dust flew in her face, forcing her to keep her head down.

It was a relief to step into the dim stables and the second they were inside she jerked her arm free. "I'm capable of walking on my own," she said.

"So you proved this morning."

"Why do you care how I got to town or what I did once I arrived?"

He stepped to her, his anger encircling them, thickening the air until it was hard to breathe. "Because you're my wife."

Did that mean he cared? She didn't fool herself into thinking he loved her, but did his ire mean he'd been concerned for her?

"Folks are going to be talking about how I let you walk in the cold and scrub floors at the boardinghouse."

Hope plummeted, but she wasn't done. Work was one of the few things she had to be proud of and she wasn't giving it up without a fight. "What's wrong with that? It's honest work and I've been doing it for years."

"Well, you won't be doing it anymore."

Laura drew herself up, planted her hands on her hips. "And you'll be telling me what I can and can't do, is that it?"

Jake tipped his head. "Damn right. You should have thought of that before you trapped me into marriage."

He spun on his heel. Dust motes swirled as Jake stormed down to the other end of the stable. The smell of hay and horseflesh was pleasant but cold comfort compared to Jake's words. Work was all she had. Besides, if she stopped working, she'd have nothing to give her father and if he didn't get his money…

Laura wrapped her arms around herself. Her mother had defied her father once. She'd never had the chance to do so again. Worried, Laura stepped to the closest stall. A lovely Paint reached its brown head over the top rail for a pat. Laura let the animal sniff and then gently stroked its neck. She'd always wanted a horse of her own, but it had been a luxury she'd never been able to afford. It hadn't stopped her from yearning for one, however. From wanting one thing in this world she could call her own.

The clip clop of hooves caught her attention a moment before she heard Jake's deep voice say, "Let's go."

He had his horse by the reins and though she was surrounded by animals, it was Jake's scent that wrapped around her, a combination of soap and mountain air. She inhaled deeply, taking a little of him within her. Despite his anger, her feelings hadn't changed. And it seemed Jake's never would either.

Feeling overwhelmingly alone, Laura turned to the horse, patted it some more. Maybe she'd come back and visit it again. It was a sad reflection on her life that her only source of comfort was an animal she'd just met.

"Laura?"

"Ready." She followed him outside where the wind once again resumed its assault.

"Can you reach?"

Though she'd never owned a horse of her own, she had ridden one a time or two. Nodding, she put her foot in the stirrup he held and grabbed the saddle horn. As she was pushing off with her other foot, Jake released the stirrup. His hands circled her waist and he lifted her off the ground. His touch burned through the thinning fabric of her coat.

Too soon, she was astride and Jake's hands were gone. She looked down, saw more of her stocking than was proper. Hurriedly, she rearranged her skirts, but the wind kept trying to lift them. When she had the fabric as secure as she could manage she caught Jake's gaze on her leg; knew he'd seen more of her just then than he had when they'd been naked together. Despite the brisk wind, heat crept up her face.

"Jake?"

He lifted those beautiful brown eyes to hers. Was it her imagination or were his cheeks a little brighter than they'd been moments ago? His eyes a little stormier?

"I'm all set," she said, wishing she could read his thoughts.

He nodded, swallowed. "Right."

Jake mounted, settling himself behind the saddle. His chest grazed her back. His arms enclosed her as he took the reins. Each rock of the animal's steps brushed their bodies together.

Yet, Laura didn't fool herself. Despite their closeness on the horse's back, Jake remained as out of reach as he'd always been.

***

The house came into view and Jake breathed a sigh of relief. He needed some distance from Laura. Riding with her body rubbing against his, had him hanging on to his lust by a thin tether.

His anger had dissipated since leaving town. On the ride home he'd realized that, though she'd embarrassed him, she hadn't done anything wrong. She'd simply gone about her regular routine. Once he got past his bruised pride, he recognized just how much Laura's actions surprised him. He'd expected her to start demanding things, asking for her share of his money and pouting if she didn't get it. The last thing he'd expected was to find her putting in a full day's work the very afternoon after their wedding.

Had he been wrong after all?

He'd always thought Laura the opposite of her father. That she was honest and hard working like her mother had been. Yet the morning of their wedding he'd accused her of being exactly like Hugh. He remembered the look on her face when he'd said it, how crestfallen she'd seemed. That he hadn't married a woman who was only after using him eased some of his concerns.

It also brought along a whole passel of complications. If she was as honest as he'd always believed, then his arguments for staying away from her and keeping her from his room were hollow. An image of Laura's stocking-clad leg came to mind. She'd been naked in his bed and yet seeing that bit of her leg had grabbed him by the throat. All he'd wanted to do was grasp her ankle and caress his way upward.

Riding home practically pressed together didn't helped matters either. She felt small and delicate within the circle of his arms. Even with the wind howling between them he smelled her, felt the silky strands of her hair teasing his face. He wondered if her skin would be as sleek.

A hell of a time to be thinking those kinds of thoughts, Jake,
he scolded himself as his horse ambled into the yard. At the base of his porch he pulled back on the reins. Without a word, Laura swung a leg over the horn, unknowingly teasing him with another glimpse of stocking. The arousal he'd been struggling to tame twitched. Laura jumped to the ground, and Jake dropped his arms to his lap.

"I'll start on supper."

He nodded, waited until she'd turned for the door before he claimed the saddle. Good Lord, his body hadn't been this out of control since he was fifteen. Shifting to get comfortable, he made the mistake of looking back. Her jacket grazed her slender hips and sat on the gentle curve of her backside. Blowing out a tortured breath, Jake shook his head and directed his horse toward the barn. They both needed to cool down.

***

Laura drew the curtain from the bedroom window. Moonlight fell on the ground, spilled over the barren tree branches and across the animals dozing in their paddocks. Laura pressed her forehead to the glass. She hadn't gone to work to annoy or humiliate Jake. In truth, she'd been sure he'd be happy about it, that he'd see she wasn't interested in his money. But hours later, with supper keeping warm downstairs, Jake had yet to come inside.

"Where are you?" she whispered. Surely, he'd had more than enough time to do his chores. Had he gone back to Bandit Creek? Did he frequent the men's club? Would he seek out the women at Lorelei's Cat House or Martha Sweet's Brothel? Was she so repulsive that he had to fill his needs elsewhere when he had a wife at home?

Would he ever see her as a woman who could love him and make him happy? Or was she destined to always be poor Laura, the woman nobody--man or woman--ever really noticed?

"I could make you happy, Jake. If you'd only give me a chance," she whispered, her breath fogging the glass. Sighing, she let the curtain fall and went downstairs.

She was dozing on the sofa in the living room when she heard the door open. Scrambling to her feet, trying to shake the cobwebs from her head, Laura hurried to the kitchen. Jake was at the sink in the porch, washing his hands. The sound of water splashing was both soothing and nerve-racking at the same time. Soothing because it meant she wasn't alone, but it set her nerves dancing knowing they'd soon be face-to-face again. Was he still angry with her? She hoped, by keeping his supper warm and waiting for him, it would help him see she hadn't been trying to upset him.

Laura waited until he was seated at the table then spooned stew onto a plate and, with a smile on her face, set the steaming food before him. Because it felt as though her stomach was full of grasshoppers, she began chattering. "There are slices of bread in the basket there on the table. If you prefer it warmed, I can slip into the oven for a moment." She filled a glass with water she'd pumped while he'd been outside and placed it next to his plate. "Can I get you anything else?"

With a sigh, Jake set his hands in his lap. "Laura--"

"You don't like stew, do you? You had everything in the root cellar; I assumed you'd like it."

"Stew's fine. But it's late and you must be tired."

Laura shifted her feet as he studied her.

"You fell asleep waiting for me, didn't you?"

"I didn't sleep much last night," she hurried to explain.

He held up a wide palm. "You don't have to justify yourself; I know it's been a long day. I just meant I could've served my own supper, that you didn't need to wait for me." He ran a palm down his face, scraping his beard. He looked as tired as she felt. "Why don't you go on up, get some sleep. I'll take care of the dishes when I'm done eating."

And in the meantime he wouldn't have to suffer through her presence. Jake couldn't have made himself any clearer. "Then I'll say goodnight." She knew by the way he flinched that she hadn't been able to completely mask the burn of his rejection. Yet he didn't try to stop her as she turned and walked up the stairs. Knowing he couldn't see from the kitchen, Laura slowed as she passed his room. Her fingers trailed the cool wood of his closed door and her heart yearned. It seemed Jake was determined to keep her away.

With a heavy heart Laura let herself into her bedroom, softly closed her own door. Then, with a rumbling stomach--she'd been waiting to eat with Jake--crawled into her cold, empty bed.

THREE

Laura had never lived in a grander home. She'd never had so much food to cook with, never had a more beautiful room.

She'd never been so unhappy.

It went beyond worrying about her father and when he'd come around next. Laura had spent her life working hard. She knew what it was to toil from sunup to sundown, to fall into bed at night weary and exhausted.

It wasn't cleaning Jake's home that was making her irritable. It was the loneliness. When she'd worked, there had been people around, and even if she hadn't engaged in many conversations, she wasn't ever alone.

Here, in Jake's home, with its wide porch and views of Turtle and Crow Mountains, she felt isolated. Isolated and unwanted. It had been two days since he'd hauled her out of Angeline's Dress Emporium. She spent her days alone, and since Jake hadn't been returning until after dark, she spent her evenings alone as well. Where was he until those late hours?

Thoughts of him with other women tortured Laura. That he would prefer their company to hers was a fierce slap she had to endure each time he didn't come home until she was lying in her bed, aching for him. Would he care? she wondered, if he knew that while he was lost in another woman's embrace, his wife was yearning for him?

It could be worse, she reminded herself. She could be married to the codger her father had tried to sell her to. "So count your blessings, Laura," she said as she wrung out the cloth she'd been using to dust and draped it over the edge of the washbasin. Then, taking the bucket of dirty water, she opened the door to toss its contents outside.

A blood-curdling scream wrenched from her throat as she came face-to-face with her father.

Laura gulped in a breath, pressed a hand over her galloping heart.

"You scared me to death!"

Hugh Gibb's expression hardened. "You didn't think I'd forget about our arrangement, did you?" He shouldered past her, stepped through the porch into the kitchen.

"Of course not." But that didn't mean she was any closer to giving him what he wanted.

Needing to buy time while she scrambled for excuses as to why she had no money for him, Laura tossed the water onto the still-brown grass. She fiddled setting the pail back in its place in the broom cupboard. It didn't help. She had nothing. Maybe if she'd spent as much time worrying about her father as she had missing Jake, she'd have answers.

Hugh grabbed her arm, turned her around. His fingers dug into her flesh, reminding her he wasn't known for his patience, reminding her just how ugly this could get if he didn't get what he was after.