Promises Linger (Promise Series) (5 page)

“Of course,” he went on, exposing those teeth in a charming smile that chased the severity from his features. “I expect we’ll have a spot of trouble or two until we learn each other’s lingo, but I don’t expect much, seeing as how we’re set on the same path.”

“Keeping the ranch,” she confirmed, blowing a tendril of hair off her forehead. It immediately settled on her eyelid.

“That, too.”

She didn’t want to know what he meant by that. No doubt it had something to do with his ridiculous desire to have a lady for a wife. The man seemed content that she was the lady of his dreams, handing him all his wishes on a silver platter. Who was she to disabuse him? As long as he didn’t look too deeply or she didn’t slip too obviously, they probably would get along all right.

“Mr. MacIntyre?”

His finger twirled irritatingly around a stray curl. He twisted it completely into obedience before he answered, “Yeah?”

“It’s not seemly for you to be holding me this way.”

“Why? We’re going to be married.”

She shoved against his chest. “It’s not seemly for married couples to comport themselves this way in public.”

He allowed her two inches of distance, but she could tell from the way his hand rested on her upper arm he wasn’t allowing much more. She set to work removing his hand.

“What about in private?”

She stopped tugging at his fingers. “What?”

“What about in private? Are married couples permitted to snuggle in private?”

She succeeded in prying free his pinkie. She immediately set to work on the next digit. “I wouldn’t know.”

Two fingers down, three more to get to freedom.

“What about your parents? Did they snuggle now and then?”

With a yank, hard enough to pop a button on her short jacket, she gained her release. It was galling to know that, even standing when he sat, she wasn’t much more than eye level with her future husband. “My parents were decent proper people and none of your business,” she stated flatly.

Asa got to his feet, casually brushing the seat of his pants.

He settled his hat straight on his head. “I was just making conversation. I thought it might be a good idea to know one another before the wedding, but if you want to go to your marriage bed with a stranger, who am I to kick up a fuss?”

He turned and headed out of the alley.

“I bet,” she muttered as she hurried to keep up, “it won’t be the first time for you.”

She didn’t think he’d heard, but as her hand slipped into the crook of the arm he held out, he chiseled her gaze away from a knot hole in the rail three store fronts down by sliding his finger under her chin. “But I bet it will be for you, and that was the whole point.”

No, it wasn’t. They both knew it. And the urge to point that out was nearly overwhelming, but she held it in check. She’d love to let him know her brain functioned as well as her corset, but she recited multiplication tables in her head instead, until she could make her expression blank and the words leaping on her tongue still. Men didn’t like to be corrected and ladies didn’t cause scenes, in public or in private. Keeping quiet was hard to do with his gaze memorizing every nuance of her expression, but four years of grueling comportment lessons came to her aid.

“You’re a prickly little thing,” he sighed, shaking his head over her success.

“I’m not the least little.”

She was back to deadpan, Asa noticed. A flash of relief, then a flash of anger, colored by a hint of vulnerability, and the woman was back to her poker face.

“At least you didn’t deny being prickly,” he sighed, wondering if his life from here on out was going to be a continuous trek over egg shells.

“You’re entitled to your opinion.”

He turned in the direction of the livery, then stopped. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

“I assure you, Mr. MacIntyre, I’m perfectly fine.”

She was going to hold to that story. He could tell from the set of her chin. “Did anyone ever tell you that ladies are delicate creatures? In need of soft words and tender touches?”

Her step faltered. “No.”

As they entered the warmth of the livery, he motioned her to a bench. “Now, that’s going to be a problem.”

She gingerly sat on the rough wood, her back so straight it dared a sliver to lodge in her backside. He had to wait until her hands were properly folded in her lap before she asked, “Why?”

“Because, I’ve had it drummed into my head so much, I’ve grown quite attached to the idea.”

“Of ladies?”

He kept his face as straight as an arrow as he answered, “Nah. Just the part about touching them tenderly.”

* * * * *

“Repeat after me. Do you, Asa MacIntyre, take Elizabeth Coyote to be your lawfully wedded wife? To honor and protect…”

The words to the ceremony droned in Elizabeth’s ears like so many gnats at a picnic. She supposed she should take more notice, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t been through this before. And there was nothing in Asa’s voice as he repeated his vows to cause unease.

He was confident, sure. He’d been that way since Old Sam had pointed him out in the bar. “A man to hitch her wagon to.” That’s what Sam had said. And since her own taste in men had proven so flawed, she’d burst into Dell’s Hair of the Dog, declared herself free of Brent and gambled her future on this one.

From the corner of her eye, she studied his profile. Her soon-to-be, locked-up-as-tight-as-two-dogs-in-a-barrel husband was a handsome man. His square face with that jutting chin would never be called pretty, but there was a no-nonsense strength from within that she found infinitely more appealing than Brent’s carefully groomed confidence. Where Brent had strutted, Asa strode. Whereas Brent brayed his successes to all who would listen, Asa wore his experience and strength like an invisible cloak.

She let her gaze wander the dusty courtroom with its tiny tables, makeshift podium and scattering of chairs, and silently chastised herself for a fool to have mistaken Brent for a man. She should have known Old Sam wouldn’t have steered her wrong when it came to a husband, and he’d hated Brent on sight. She sighed. Old Sam was an excellent judge of character.

She snuck a peek at Asa again. She really was going to have to work on her judgment. Even if the man hadn’t proven his intelligence by stopping by the lawyer’s office and confirming her story, her identity, and her rights to the land before heading out of town yesterday, one look into his eyes should have told her he wasn’t a man given to foolish risk. That he was a man to count on. The judge’s droning took a more staccato note, bringing her out of her reverie. “Do you Elizabeth, take Asa MacIntyre as your lawful husband. To love, honor and obey?”

That was her cue. All she needed was to say two little words, and her ranch had a fighting chance, but God help her, the words wouldn’t slide past her lips. She had absolutely no idea if she could love this man. Wasn’t even sure she wanted to.

Two, three seconds crept by. Her groom’s hand, so casually holding hers, began to tense. She caught her breath, nearly choking on a dust mote. If she didn’t promise to love, honor and obey, she’d fail. MacIntyre would disappear to wherever men of his ilk went. She’d lose the ranch, and she’d become the one thing she abhorred. A silly, helpless female. Good for nothing more than tatting pillow trims and waiting on a man’s good will. Incapable of doing the most basic thing a son could accomplish; keeping the Rocking C in the Coyote family. She moistened her lips, took a deep breath and tried again. To her dismay, the only thing that came out was a blatant hedge.

“I can promise to try.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Well, she’d succeeded in shocking the judge. His fat cheeks were quivering with outrage. Without looking at Asa, she repeated herself. “I said I can try.”

She hoped her groom’s frown wasn’t as heavy as the Judge’s, but she wasn’t going to draw his displeasure by checking.

“Young lady,” Judge Carlson censured. “It’s a woman’s place to look to her husband for guidance, to follow his lead. It clearly states in the Bible—”

“It’ll do.” Asa’s deep drawl cut the judge’s tirade.

“What?”

“I said I’d take an honest try.”

Judge Carlson drew himself up to his full height. “Young man, I cannot proceed with this ceremony in good conscience without having my say.”

“You serious?” Asa asked in that low drawl that just goaded a listener to react.

Elizabeth shot him a glance. A blind man could see this bloated fool of a judge was serious. He practically vibrated with indignation and moral outrage.

“I most certainly am. I’ve married more than two hundred couples in my ten years of serving God and country, and I can assure you while the fervor of love that brings a man to the altar can make him overlook the basics, it’s always in the best interest of the marriage to start as you mean to continue.”

“Seems like that’s what we’re doing.”

The judge cleared his throat, shifted his Bible in his plump hand, then snapped it closed. “I’m afraid, young man, that your bride’s reluctance to promise love and obedience bodes ill for your union.”

His censure elicited amusement rather than anger in her husband as evidenced by his bland response. “Ever heard the expression, ‘you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink’?”

“Of course.”

“Then I suggest you hitch us up, and let me worry about who’ll be wearing the pants in this outfit.”

Elizabeth thought the judge was going to refuse. She thought she’d have to lie. Midway to the attempt, her husband’s hand tightened painfully on hers. He caught her gaze with his darkly silver one and gave one shake of his head. It was an order to keep silent. She pressed her lips together and swallowed her resentment.

“It’s highly irregular and I feel ill-advised, but I’ll go along with this request.” Elizabeth let out her breath on a sigh of relief, only to suck it back in outrage as the good judge felt compelled to add, “But only because I feel you’re a man capable of keeping your wife in line.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Judge.”

Elizabeth would have dearly loved to kick Asa MacIntyre in the shins. She had to settle for unobtrusively digging her nails into the back of his hand.

His retaliation was swift. “Lift your face, darlin’, like a good, obedient wife.”

She didn’t miss the emphasis on the word obedient. Cursing her promise and the desperateness of her situation, she did as ordered. His lips were planted on hers before she could gasp. She dug her nails deeper. His lips pressed harder. He clearly wasn’t going to give ground. Well, neither was she.

Through gritted teeth, she muttered, “The judge.”

“Isn’t seeing anything he hasn’t seen before,” Asa drawled, barely removing his lips from hers. “Open your mouth.”

Her eyes flew wide at that. Her gaze collided with his. This close, she could see the flecks of slate gray splattering the lighter irises. She could also see Asa MacIntyre was a determined man. She kept her mouth closed.

His finger touched the corner of her mouth. “Open.”

“I don’t want to.”

He drew back a quarter of an inch. His breath intermingled with hers. “I don’t remember asking if you wanted to.”

It was an order. Clear and simple. Only obeying wasn’t simple with the judge watching, and, with the space between their lips yawning like a chasm, almost too great for her modesty to cross. She thought of her ranch. She thought of her father and the duty he’d left her with when he’d died. Her lips parted a hair’s breath.

Asa’s nose touched hers. “A little more, darlin’.”

As soon as the ranch was flourishing, she’d kill him. She opened her mouth a fraction more. If he wanted it any wider, he’d have to get a pry bar.

She soon discovered he didn’t need one. Only his tongue, which he slid through the slight opening with shocking smoothness. Her breath caught in her lungs as his taste flooded her mouth. She wanted to hate it, him, but he tasted of coffee and cinnamon. And it wasn’t unpleasant. She closed her eyes as he nibbled at her lower lip, sending sparks shooting through her body.

“Kiss me back.”

The words drifted into her mouth, his breath becoming hers as he tipped her head back, arching her back over his arm so the suddenly sensitive tips of her breasts pressed into his chest. Against her stomach she could feel the hard ridge of his erection. His tongue traced the full curve of her lower lip, taking her gasp as his own as she caught his shirt front in her grip and tentatively touched his tongue with hers.

“Damn, darlin’, I love your mouth,” he whispered for her ears alone as the judge cleared his throat.

“May I remind you two that I haven’t gotten to the part of the ceremony in which you kiss the bride?”

Asa lifted his head and loosened his hold. “Just getting in some practice.”

He didn’t look the least embarrassed while Elizabeth wished for a hole to crawl into.

“I’d say you’re finished practicing and ready to move on.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to tell the judge what she thought of him. With a tip of his finger, Asa forestalled her plan, shutting her mouth and answering the judge. “Then I suggest we get this wedding underway so the moving on is nice and legal. Ready, darlin’?”