Here Comes the Bride (2 page)

He stopped. Tess’s face flamed in embarrassment and growing fury.

“I will grant you, Mr. Calloway, I have not been raised on a ranch and I may not have the first clue what it’s really like to live it every day of my life, but it’s what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted.” She paused, swallowing the lump that had inched its way up her throat. “And when I heard Bart speak of El Cielo, and saw the look in his eyes, I knew this was the place for me. This is where I belong. I’m not stupid, you know. I know it’s going to be different than what I’m used to, and I fully expect some hard work along the way, but—”

“
Some
hard work?” he sneered. “You don’t have the first clue about hard work.”

He leaned over, his elbows resting on his knees, and studied her, taking in every inch of her still heated face.

“Oh, for the love of God, say it ain’t so.” His face fell into his hands, his head shaking back and forth. “Tell me you’re not one of those droopy-eyed females who got all these deranged ideas from one of those crazy books they sell at the mercantile.”

Tess lifted her chin slightly. She’d never in a million years admit it to him. The fact of the matter was that was exactly where she first discovered her yearning for ranch life.

Gabe lifted his head, rose to his full height, and aimed another piercing stare at her.

“You just get yourself back on the stage and head right back to Boston or Butte or wherever the nearest society page is. You’ve got no business out here in the middle of nowhere. There is nothing romantic about working out in the dirt all day. It’s nothing like how those stupid books describe it.”

“But . . .”

“But nothing. Porter Creek’s no place for a city girl, especially a little thing like yourself. Bart should’ve told you that right up front. He knows how I feel about . . .”

“He doesn’t know I’m here.”

“What the hell . . .” If he’d been confused before, Gabe was downright stumped now. Who was this little waif of a thing and, more important, what the hell was she doing on his ranch?

“It’s hard to explain,” she said softly, her eyes lowered to her fidgeting hands.

“Try.”

“It’s a long story.”

Gabe resumed his place in the chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. He did not utter a sound, but the indication was clear. It wasn’t that he
wanted
to hear this inevitably long and irrelevant story, but she had traveled all this way by herself. It was the least he could do. And if it meant he’d have to watch those amber eyes of hers snap like firelight again, then so be it. He’d just have to put up with it.

“Would you mind if I got dressed first? I’m not very comfortable.”

“Rosa took your clothes to wash them.” He watched the color inch its way up her neck and suddenly realized she was nearly naked under that thin blanket. Good God—what was he thinking? He pulled open the wardrobe and yanked out a long red flannel shirt and a pair of well-worn Levi’s. He wasn’t happy about letting this girl wear his clothes—even if they were his winter stock—but he couldn’t very well let her sit there as she was.

Gabe dropped the clothes on the end of the bed and walked wordlessly out the door, straining to hear Tess scramble to get the clothes on before he came back. And he would be back. She was threading her bootlace through the belt loops when he returned. The force of a hundred lightning bolts slammed him right between the eyes the minute he entered the room. How could someone so dirty—no, so
filthy
—look so beautiful in clothes miles too big for her? He could only imagine what she looked like clean.

A wrenching tear pulled unexpectedly at his heart. So help him if Bart had done anything to this girl, there would be hell to pay. Supreme Gabe Calloway hell.

“Better?” he asked, forcing a frown.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He waited for her to sit somewhere, but when she began to pace he opted once again for the rocker. It took her a good while before she was able to gather her thoughts enough to speak.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she finally blurted. “You’ll think I’m horrible.”

His flat, unspeaking eyes widened, and his head lolled slightly to the side. Her finely arched brows creased together, her lips pursed into a thin white line. Gabe was beginning to think she really wasn’t going to talk about it when she suddenly squared her shoulders and raised her chin a fraction.

“Okay, but please remember it was the circumstances that were horrible, not me. I’m really a very good person.”

Gabe tried to hold his frown, but his lips began to twitch upward. Tess rubbed her hands back and forth as she continued to pace.

“Your brother saved me from making a very big mistake.”

No response, just a quirked brow. Now he really was intrigued since Bart was usually the one making the mistakes, not preventing them. This might prove interesting after all.

Tess tossed her head, sending a mess of gritty mane back over her shoulder. What on earth could have her in such a tither? For crying out loud, surely a little thing like her couldn’t possibly get into
that
much trouble. Could she? Even if it had something to do with Bart . . .

The lilt of her voice rocked him back to his senses.

“My family, well my father really, and I had a disagreement about something, and he made it perfectly clear if I did not see things his way, I would no longer be welcome in his home.”

“What was it?”

“What was what?” she asked. “Oh, yes, the disagreement. My father had chosen my husband for me and I disagreed with his choice.”

“But marriages are arranged all the time.”

“Not mine,” she answered stiffly, adjusting the bootlace belt. “I will marry the man I choose, and no one else.”

Gabe fought back a smile. So much tenacity in such a little thing. The man was probably lucky she didn’t marry him. She continued to fuss with the hugely oversized clothes, rolling cuffs and picking at invisible lint.

“So I was forced to leave my family’s home and make my own way.”

She appeared to be finished, but Gabe was not about to let it end there.

“What was wrong with him?” he asked.

“Who?”

“General Lee,” he quipped.

“Oh.” She flushed. “You mean my would-be husband. I’m sure many would think there was nothing wrong with him, that he was perfectly fine. He comes from a respectable family, he has a good job, and I am certain I would have wanted for nothing had I married him.”

“But . . .”

“But I didn’t love him.”

Gabe’s laughter boomed through the room and echoed out into the hallway.

“I see nothing funny about this,” she said haughtily. “Why are you laughing?”

“You gave up a respectable life of wealth and opportunity because you didn’t love the poor sap? Are you crazy?” His laughter ebbed to a chuckle. “You really have been reading too many books, little girl. Nobody loves each other when they get married—they learn to get along, is all.”

Tess’s mouth fell open and then snapped closed.

“I don’t believe that,” she finally said. “And I don’t believe you do either.”

“So let me guess.” He smirked. “You believe in love at first sight.”

“Yes.” The deep gold flecks in her eyes shone brilliantly—too brilliantly, sobering him instantly. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, averting his own gaze as he strode past her.

“I’ll have Rosa fix you a bath if you’d like. We’ll finish this later.”

 

 

It was Tess’s turn to smirk now. She’d embarrassed him. It was unintentional, but the fact was she did believe in love at first sight. And she had fallen in love the instant she saw her angel.

She was still smiling five minutes later when Rosa bustled in, loaded down with fresh towels and a pink cotton wrapper, followed by a man lugging a huge metal bathtub.

“Senorita,” Rosa said, “Miguel bring bath to you.”

“Hello, Miguel.” Tess smiled. “I’m Tess. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Miguel grinned back.
“Hola,
senorita.”

He positioned the tub under the window and hurried from the room to collect buckets full of water. Tess smiled at Rosa.

“Is Miguel your husband?” she asked.

“Si.
We marry many year.” She arranged the towels on the bureau and then stood, her arms crossed under her ample bosom, and stared at Tess. There was no hint of accusation in the look, simply curiosity.

“I’m grateful for all your help today,” Tess offered. “You are very kind.”

Rosa shrugged. “You friend to Bart Calloway, you friend to Rosa.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Calloway doesn’t see it that way.”

Rosa’s dark eyes frowned. “Gabe Calloway está muy orgulloso. Very proud.”

“Yes,” Tess agreed. “I see that.”

“He have . . .” Her brow furrowed. “How you say . . .
una corazon triste.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Gabe Calloway have . . . sad heart.”

Rosa shook her head sadly but offered no other explanation. Miguel arrived with two huge buckets of piping hot water and began the arduous task of filling the massive tub. From what Tess could gather, he had engaged the help of the other ranch hands but would only allow them to bring the water to the top of the stairs. He took over from there and carried it into the room. As such, it didn’t take the bucket brigade very long to fill the tub.

“Thank you very much.” Tess smiled, grasping Miguel’s hand in hers. “And please thank the other men for me.”

Miguel smiled as he backed out of the room, his midnight-colored eyes shining first at Rosa and then at Tess. Rosa nodded toward the tray of barely touched food.

“You no feel good. Better?”

“Much better, thank you,” Tess sighed. “I will try to eat more.”

“Buena niña.”
Tess had no idea what that meant, but she gathered she was “niña.”

After Rosa closed the door behind her, Tess stood in the middle of the room basking in its peace. As much as she longed to jump into the steaming bath, she was reluctant to remove the clothes Gabe had given her to wear. They were so personal, so much a part of him, she hated to lose that link even for a minute.

Eventually she did get in the tub and sank right under the water, head and all, relishing the cleanliness of it all. The new bar of soap Rosa left her was unlike the hard yellow lye soap she’d grown accustomed to in the last few weeks. It was a creamy white color and smelled of fresh honey—something Tess never would have imagined finding in Gabriel Calloway’s house.

She began at the top of her head, scrubbing the full length of her hair twice and rinsing it until it squeaked. She continued down over the rest of her body until she was absolutely certain she had scrubbed off every last inch of grime. Then she stood and re-rinsed herself with the extra bucket of water. She could not recall ever feeling as clean as she did at that moment.

“Don’t get used to it,” she reminded herself. “You no longer have the luxury of daily baths.”

Before she was completely dry, she pulled Gabe’s shirt back on and snuggled into its warmth. The rest of the clothes she left in a heap on the rocker while she rummaged through her small carpetbag for her brush. It was a toilsome thing, battling the tangles in her almost waist-length hair, and close to an hour passed before she finished. Satisfied her hair was finally tangle free, Tess donned the pink cotton wrapper and took up the tray of food. She’d been alone long enough; perhaps Rosa would share a snack with her.

The silence in the hallway made Tess tiptoe down the stairs. She had no idea what time it was, but it must have been late for it to be so quiet. To her right she found the kitchen, empty and spotless, as was the living room, the only other room downstairs. Tess frowned.

“Looking for Rosa?” Gabe’s deep voice took her by surprise. He had made his way into the kitchen without causing the slightest stir. His jaw clenched and his hands fisted at his sides. Tess’s skin tingled under his piercing eyes. No one had ever looked at her with such raw intensity. He took a breath, rested his hands on the back of one of the chairs, and seemed to steady himself.

Tess swallowed. “Yes. I thought perhaps she would like to share a snack with me.”

“She’s gone home.” He cleared his throat twice before managing to finish his sentence.

“Oh, too bad.” Tess looked at the tray for another moment then brightened. “Would you like to join me?”

“I don’t think . . .” he almost sputtered.

“Come now, Mr. Calloway, we’ll take this food outside and enjoy the evening. Just look at that moon.” She pointed out the kitchen window to the huge yellow moon. “I’ve never seen it so bright.”

She did not wait for him to answer, just walked past him through the kitchen door and out onto the huge porch. Her heart swelled when she put the tray down and looked around; the view that greeted her was more spectacular than she had ever imagined. The Calloway land stretched out before her, rolling on for mile after green mile in each direction. Huge pine trees stretched toward the endless clear sky, as though reaching for the stars themselves. A long, deep porch wrapped around the full front of the house, giving the multitude of pink and crimson roses a built-in trellis to climb. Two bamboo rocking chairs, flanking a small square table, faced due east, toward the barn; and adjacent to the main house, about 500 yards off, stood a pretty little apple-green cottage surrounded by a whitewashed picket fence. It was its own little world. Tess smiled. No—Rosa and Miguel’s own little world.

Tess inhaled deeply the rich fragrance of the roses mingled with the wild eucalyptus growing near the barn. The night could not have been more perfect. She arranged the tray on the table and settled in one of the rockers, fully expecting Gabe to do the same.

Gabe Calloway had no idea what to make of this woman who’d walked into his life just hours before. She was certainly not like the other women he’d known, and he had known a few. She was not easily intimidated, and God knew most people found Gabe Calloway to be one of the most intimidating people in the county. His size alone was enough to scare the bejeepers out of most folk, but she marched around him like he was nothing more than a piece of furniture. And speaking of which, she had certainly made herself at home in a short amount of time, sitting there in the moonlight as though she’d done it a million times before, as if this were her home.

He lowered himself into the other chair, glancing her way when he was sure she wouldn’t notice. Her sweet doll face was pink from her scrubbing; and her long wavy hair, still slightly damp, hung down over her right shoulder. Why couldn’t Gabe take his eyes off that head of hair? A far cry from the dull brown it had been an hour before, its natural beauty now began to show. A tawny mix of gold and brown, there was something about it, something that drew his eyes, a beckoning force—daring his fingers to reach out and touch it.

He couldn’t help but admire her. It wasn’t just any old female who’d take out across the country by herself to follow some foolish idea. After the first day on the stage, most would have hightailed it right back to the city. She still didn’t belong here, but he had to give her credit for trying.

Of course, he wouldn’t tell
her
that.

“What is it that you do here on your ranch, Mr. Calloway?” she asked, then bit into a crisp red apple.

Gabe watched a trickle of juice slide down her chin before she caught it with a napkin. He swallowed hard.

“We raise cattle.”

“Cattle?” She almost beamed. “Wonderful. What kind?”

“Longhorns,” he answered, starting to smile as well. “You familiar with them?”