Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 01] (21 page)

Faith studied the ranch house as the buggy bounced over the ruts and potholes in the road leading up to it. After the disappointment of Cheyenne, the main house of the Trail T ranch was a pleasant surprise. The central portion of the two-story house was built of log and stone to withstand the harsh Wyoming winters. It was flanked by long, low one-story wings and fronted by a huge porch.

The drive leading to the house circled in front of the porch steps, making it possible to drive right up to the front door. Had the house been made of white clapboard or red brick, it could have belonged on any Virginia plantation. The arrangement of the house and the other buildings surrounding it reminded Faith of her grandfather Hamilton’s plantation. She found the comparison comforting. From her place in the buggy, she could see two barns, a smithy, stables, a log cabin, the corral, a paddock, and the smokehouse. Yes, everything seemed very familiar.

She squinted against the sun as she looked out over the open range, hoping to see the livestock. She turned to Reese. “Where are all the cows?”

“The milk cows are in the barn. The cattle are out on the range,” he answered.

“By themselves?”

“Oh, they’re probably keeping company with the cattle from a couple of other ranches.”

“How do you know which ones are yours?”

“Mine all have the Trail T brand on them. The herd roams free during the winter. In the spring, we round up all the Trail T stock and brand the calves.” He maneuvered the buggy around the circle drive, pulling it to a halt behind the wagon. Charlie and Sam had dismounted and were busy helping unload the supplies. Reese climbed down from the buggy and held his arms out for Faith. “Let’s go in out of the cold. I’ll show you around the house.” He reached up for Joy and lowered her to the ground.

“What about my pony? Can he come inside with us and sleep in my room?” Joy wanted to know.

“Absolutely not, sprite. Ponies do not sleep in little girls’ bedrooms. They sleep in cozy stalls in the barn with the other horses. Especially Shetland ponies like Brutus.”

“Can I go with you to put Brutus in the barn?” Joy asked.

“It’s awfully cold out, sprite. Why don’t you go inside the house with Faith while I take Brutus to the barn?” Reese was cold, tired, hungry, and suffering from a lack of sleep. Not that he was complaining about the way he’d lost sleep. He simply wanted to relax. He was in no mood to contend with a little girl or a stubborn pony. His patience was not inexhaustible. At the moment, it was paper thin.

“I want to go with you!” Joy stamped her foot. “I want to help you tuck Brutus in bed.”

Reese looked to Faith for help. “Explain to Joy why she can’t go with me to the barn.”

“I can’t,” Faith told him. “I don’t understand myself. You insisted on buying her a pony against my better judgment, so the least, you can do is let her go with you.”

Dammit, today it seemed everyone had decided to turn on him.

“I seem to recall you saying something like, ‘She’ll take better care of a horse if she owns it.’” Faith reminded him, gray eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You promised you would teach me how to take care of him,” Joy piped up. “I want to go with you!”

“Oh, all right!” Reese took Joy’s hand, then walked around to the back of the buggy to untie the shaggy black pony.

“Can I ride him to the barn? Please?” Joy danced from foot to foot.

“Absolutely not!”

Faith waved goodbye, then turned and started up the stone steps to the house.

A high-pitched, childish squeal of delight halted her on the top step. She turned around.

Reese was leading the Shetland pony. He carried the lead rope in one hand, while he pressed his other hand against Joy’s back. She sat astride the short-legged pony, clinging to his black mane, while her own short legs bounced against the pony’s round belly. As Faith watched, Brutus stuck his nose into Reese’s coat pocket.

“I don’t have any sugar,” Reese informed him.

But the greedy pony persisted. He burrowed deeper into Reese’s pocket. The fabric gave way with a loud, tearing sound.

“Dammit!” Reese muttered, elbowing the pony’s muzzle in a futile effort to dislodge him.

“Don’t you hurt my pony, Weese!” Joy ordered, just as Brutus grabbed hold of the torn pocket and pulled it completely off Reese’s coat.

Reese stopped in his tracks and faced the pony.

Brutus pricked up his ears in a show of equine innocence and, with a toss of his head, sent the pocket sailing. Joy squealed with delight at her pony’s trick.

Reese shook his head and turned his back to the pony, unimpressed by the innocent display. He tugged on the lead. Brutus seized his opportunity. He twitched his tail, flattened his ears against his head, bared his strong teeth, and nipped Reese on the arm.

Faith thought she heard Reese mutter, “
Et tu, Brute
?” between the colorful curses, but she couldn’t be sure.

He tugged the lead rope once again and this time, Brutus plodded docilely at his side. Reese rubbed absently at his arm.

Faith opened the front door of the ranch house and stepped inside.

The interior of the house was as much a surprise as the exterior had been. She had expected the inside walls to be the same natural log as the exterior, but found they were paneled in a light oak. She expected rough plank floors and discovered they were hardwood, polished and sanded to a high gloss, and covered in places by Turkey carpets like the ones in the railroad car.

The room was, in fact, a larger version of Reese’s private car. Only the stone fireplace and the paintings were different. Faith relaxed, suddenly very comfortable with her surroundings. She removed her coat and gloves and carefully laid them across the arm of the leather sofa. She pulled the hatpin from her hair and balanced her hat atop the pile before moving to warm herself in front of the fire.

Faith took a deep breath. The delicious aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the house. She sniffed the air. Someone was in the kitchen, cooking. Moving away from the fire, Faith followed the enticing smells through the house and into the kitchen.

“Hello? Is anybody home?” She peeked inside the doorway of the kitchen.

A young woman labored over the huge, black stove, stirring the contents of a large pot. An older woman emptied loaves of bread from the pans onto a work table. They chatted to each another in a tongue foreign to Faith. They jumped at the sound of her voice, turning to face her.

Faith froze in the doorway, staring at the women. She hadn’t expected to find anyone in the kitchen when she arrived and certainly not these women who were obviously relatives, yet Indians. “I hope you don’t mind. We just arrived. I was waiting in the front room, but I smelled your delicious cooking and followed my nose.” She shrugged. “It led me here. I’m Faith Col…Jordan, Reese’s wi…” She held up her left hand, displaying Hannah’s wedding ring. She tried again. “Reese’s wi…” Faith gave up. “Reese’s…outside,” she finished lamely.

The younger woman spoke. “I’m Mary Alexander, Reese’s cous―”

“Cousin,” Faith interrupted, smiling at the smaller, feminine version of the Alexander men. “I met David in Washington, and Mr. Alexander and Sam, today.” Faith knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “There’s quite a family resemblance.” She stepped closer to the stove.

Mary nodded. “This is my mother, Sarah.” She shrugged, in a gesture of apology. “She doesn’t speak English.”

Mary studied Reese’s bride. She was very different from the first woman Reese had chosen. She talked to cover her nervousness, but she didn’t mean to be rude. Her smile was genuine. Her black dress was old and worn, even threadbare in places. Her hair was mussed, and she had dark circles under her eyes, but she didn’t seem to mind. There wasn’t a vain or malicious bone in her body. She was beautiful, on the inside where it mattered, and pretty on the outside as well. But she wasn’t even aware of the beauty shining out of her lovely gray eyes. She would do Reese proud.

“Oh, I see. The language I overheard you speaking was―”

“Cherokee.”

Faith whirled around. “Goodness, Reese, you startled me!” Reese was standing inside the kitchen door. “I thought you were out in the barn with Joy and Brutus.”

“Sam offered to tuck Brutus into his stall for the night. I let him.” Reese rubbed at the bite on his arm. “Brutus seems to like Sam a helluva lot more than he likes me. Joy stayed to help. I came inside to see about you.”

“Me, why?”

“I didn’t realize it was this close to supper until Charlie reminded me. I forgot that Mary and Sarah would be here. I was sure you would walk into the kitchen, find Red Indians cooking supper, and run screaming for help.” His words were sarcastic, cutting.

Faith recoiled. She stared at him, coldly. “I don’t have a problem with Red Indians in the kitchen or anywhere else, but you seem to.” She pulled herself up to her full five-foot height, straightened her spine, and looked him in the eye. “Now, if you will just point me in the direction of my bedroom, I’ll remove my prejudiced self from your noble presence.”

Reese was too stunned by her remarks to say anything. Mary came to her rescue. “Go back to the main room and up the stairs. It’s the last door on the right.”

“Thank you.” Faith remembered her manners, even if Reese had forgotten his. “It’s a pleasure to meet…you both.” Her voice cracked. She turned to stare through Reese. “Please send Joy upstairs as soon as she comes in. She’ll need to wash up.” She pushed back her shoulders and hurried out of the kitchen, through the main room, and up the stairs.

Mary waited until she heard the bedroom door close before she spoke. “You were very cruel to her, Reese.”

“Cruel?” Reese was astonished. “It was no more than she deserved for―”

“Being surprised?” Mary asked softly.

“You saw the expression on her face. She was shocked to find Indian women here.” Reese began to pace the length of the kitchen.

“She was surprised to find anyone in the kitchen cooking a meal for her, just as I would be surprised to return to my home and find someone cooking for me. She didn’t expect it. She didn’t mean to be rude.”

Reese stopped pacing and stared at his cousin. Sweet, docile, even-tempered, Mary was angrily defending a woman she had just met. A woman who wasn’t even Cherokee.

Mary pointed her wooden spoon at him, giving Reese cause to be thankful it wasn’t a carving knife. “Did you tell her about us? Tell her we were here?”

“I told her I had a housekeeper,” Reese defended himself.

“Just as I thought.” Mary said smugly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you didn’t tell her anything about your family or how we live. It means that you left your new bride in ignorance and expected her to understand. Very typical.”

Reese winced at her words.

But Mary continued. “This is her house now, Reese. According to Cherokee law, the house belongs to the woman. And that woman upstairs has every right to put your shoes outside the front door. You embarrassed her, hurt her feelings in her own kitchen and in the presence of relatives. You were wrong. You should apologize. You need to go up there and make peace with your bride.”

Reese opened his mouth to protest, to tell them Faith wasn’t his real bride, simply a temporary one, that there was no reason for all the fuss, but when he saw the look of grim determination in Mary’s eyes, he thought better of it.

Sarah rounded the corner of the table to stand next to her daughter. She spoke a few words in rapid Cherokee, frowning up at Reese as she spoke.

“Well, I guess that makes it unanimous.” Reese expelled a slow, martyred sigh, before heading toward the stairs.

He hated to admit he was wrong. He hated to apologize to Faith, but Mary had a point. Perhaps he had been hasty in his judgment. He hoped she wasn’t crying. He didn’t think he could handle her tears. He sighed again, running his fingers through his hair. It had been a bitch of a day! A day that had appeared so promising at dawn when he’d been making love to Faith. God, but it had gone downhill since then. It bothered him to think how badly the day had turned out. And if it bothered him, how must Faith feel?

Reese shook his head, as if to clear it. He hadn’t thought about anyone else’s feelings in a very long time. He paused in front of his bedroom door, then turned the knob. He expected the door to be locked, but it swung open.

Faith lay on her stomach, fully clothed, across the reassembled bed. She didn’t move when Reese opened the door. She didn’t bother to acknowledge his presence.

“Faith?” He took a couple of steps into the room.

“Please go away.” She didn’t turn over.

“I was told to come up here and apologize.”

“Fine. Now go away.”

“I came to apologize.” Reese moved next to the bed. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” Her voice was dull, flat.

“I said I was sorry!” Reese was rapidly losing patience with her.

“No,” Faith corrected wearily. “You said you were ordered to apologize to me.”

Reese was uneasy with the situation. “Well, at least I know how to follow orders.”

“Then follow mine. Go away and leave me alone.”

“No.”

Faith rolled over to look at him. Her gray eyes brimmed with tears. Her face was blotched and swollen from the ones she’d already cried. “Why not?”

“Because you haven’t said you forgive me.”

“I forgive you.” She said the words, but her heart wasn’t in them. “Now please leave me alone. I’m too tired to fight with you.”

She should have forgiven him by now, Reese thought. She should be telling him how sorry she was for all this fuss. Faith had said the words, but she didn’t mean them. For some reason, he couldn’t leave it alone. “I won’t leave until I know you’ve forgiven me.”

“Forget it. There’s nothing to forgive.”

“Faith, I―” he began.

“Leave it alone! Don’t you see? You were right. I
was
shocked! I’ve always prided myself on my lack of prejudice, and yet I was shocked to find Mary and Sarah in your house. Shocked to find they were relatives! Do you know what kind of person that makes me?” Faith choked on her words, choked on the bitter taste of self-recrimination.