Short Straw Bride (13 page)

Luke’s footsteps were slow as he climbed the stairs. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that Eleanor had gone to bed. But he’d seen the bedroom light burning and he knew she was awake. In the weeks before the wedding, there had been times when he’d imagined what it would be like to have a wife waiting up for him. He’d fancied the idea that she’d be keeping the bed warm, pictured the welcoming smile on her face, the eagerness in her eyes.

After last night, it seemed the only eagerness he was likely to see in his bride’s eyes was for his blood.

Considering the way she’d torn a strip off the men at supper, he wasn’t holding his breath in expectation of seeing her fall over herself to repent for last night’s display of temper. He had to admit to a certain reluctant pride at the way she’d dealt with the hands. If he hadn’t seen it for himself, he wouldn’t have believed that five foot nothing of female could buffalo his cowboys. Gris Balkin, as tough a man as Luke had known, had damn near shuffled his feet like a schoolboy in trouble for putting a frog in the teacher’s pocket.

It had certainly been something to see, but if Eleanor thought she’d be able to run roughshod over him the way she had over the men, she was wrong. He had no intention of letting his wife rule the roost.

The bedroom door was partially open and Luke approached it somewhat cautiously. Her aim the night before had been uncomfortably accurate and she’d had all day to restock her arsenal. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, prepared to duck, if necessary.

Eleanor was sitting in the rocking chair, her slender fingers busy picking apart the seams on a
dress. Luke vaguely recognized the garment as having been his mother’s. There were trunks of her things in the attic and he’d told Eleanor to make use of them if she wanted.

Though she must have heard him enter, she didn’t look up immediately but continued clipping threads to open the seam. She presented a picture of domestic tranquillity, as calm and cool as a spring shower. If it hadn’t been for the fact that her fingers were shaking so hard it was a wonder she didn’t drop the tiny scissors she held, Luke might have thought her completely indifferent to his presence.

Eleanor could feel Luke watching her, and it took every ounce of concentration she could muster to keep her eyes on the material in her lap. The small black circles that patterned the rich green silk blurred together as she waited for him to speak.

He shut the door behind him and she jumped as if the quiet click had been a gunshot.

Aware that she could no longer control the unsteadiness of her fingers, she set the scissors aside and folded her hands in her lap. With an effort she lifted her head and, for the first time since their quarrel the night before, she forced herself to really look at her husband.

He looked back at her, his eyes wary. She could hardly blame him for that, Eleanor admitted, letting her eyes flicker up to the scrape on his forehead. Seeing where her attention was directed, Luke lifted his fingers to the small injury.

She knew she should apologize, should say she regretted throwing her shoe at him, not to mention the books, water pitcher and her hairbrush. But the truth was, she wasn’t in the least sorry. Though she’d gotten over the worst of her anger, it still seemed as if whatever small injury she’d inflicted was the least he deserved. Besides, he’d gotten his revenge quite thoroughly, she thought, shifting a little on the pillow she’d put down to cushion her slightly tender posterior from the hard seat.

Seeing her shift uncomfortably and knowing the cause, Luke felt a twinge of guilt. But it was only a twinge. The way she’d come at him last night, it was a wonder she hadn’t done permanent damage. And if her butt was tender, it couldn’t be more so than his forehead or the bruise where she’d sunk her teeth into his thigh.

“Don’t try and bring any of those trunks down out of the attic by yourself,” he said abruptly, nodding to the pile of fabric in her lap. “They’re too heavy. If I’m not around, ask Daniel or one of the men to help you. After the talking-to you gave
them, I’d guess if you said jump, they might ask how high.”

Eleanor didn’t smile at his slight attempt at humor. “I got tired of watching them eat like animals.”

“I think you made that pretty clear.”
Maybe we could just forget last night,
he thought with considerable relief. He walked farther into the room and reached for the buttons on his shirt.

“I’d prefer it if you slept elsewhere.” The words were rushed as if they’d had to be hurried out or not said at all.

Luke’s fingers stilled, his eyes taking on a chill as they settled on her face. Eleanor swallowed but met his gaze steadily, hoping she looked more calm than she felt.

“We’re married,” he said flatly, as if that answered everything.

As if she should just ignore the fact that her marriage had come about because he’d gambled and
lost.
Anger stirred in the pit of her stomach. She forced it down. She didn’t want to quarrel with him.

“I know,” she said, proud of how calm she sounded. “I know you’ve every right to sleep in that bed.”

It wasn’t exactly sleeping I had in mind,
Luke thought.

“And to demand your marital rights,” she continued, as if reading his thoughts.

“You haven’t exactly objected to those demands,” he snapped, stung by her cool tone.

She flushed, but continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’m just asking you to give me a little time. I knew our marriage was hardly a…love match, but it’s been a shock to find out that you married me because you lost a bet.”

“It had nothing to do with you, dammit!” Luke didn’t apologize for the profanity.

“I know.” She nodded, seeming to grow more calm in the face of his annoyance. “I understand that, but it’s not exactly pleasant to find that you drew straws to see who’d
have
to get married.”

“It wasn’t you we were drawing straws over” Luke was aware that his voice had risen.

“I know that, but I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Daniel had drawn the short straw.”

Luke stared at her. “What does that have to do with it?”

“If he’d drawn the short straw, wouldn’t he have been the one who had to find a wife?”

Luke nodded reluctantly. He didn’t like the direction the conversation had taken.

“Well, then, it’s possible he’d have thought I’d suit his purpose, the same way you did. Whether it was you or Daniel, you still needed someone to cook and clean and have sons.” Eleanor’s mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “If he’d drawn the short straw, I could have ended up marrying your brother.”

“No!” The sharpness of his denial brought Luke up short. He drew a slow breath and continued more calmly. “That wouldn’t have happened.”

Eleanor lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Maybe not. Daniel might have thought some other girl would do a better job of cooking and cleaning and having babies. But the end result would have been the same: You and I wouldn’t be married.”

“But we
are
married,” he snapped.

“I’m not trying to deny that.”

“There are those who think that sharing a bed is part of being married,” he said, heavily sarcastic.

She was unmoved. “I know, and I’m not asking you to move out permanently. I’m just asking you to give me a little time to adjust my thinking.”

“How much time?” He was aware that, in asking that question, he was admitting defeat. The relief in Eleanor’s eyes said that she knew it, too.

“A few days, perhaps. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

It is much too much. An hour is too much.
He’d been aching to have her since last night. She sat there, wrapped in layers of fabric, modest as a nun, and all he could think about was peeling those layers from her, of laying her back on the bed and easing his way into her welcoming body. Only, something in the set of her jaw told him it wouldn’t be welcoming.

Damn, who would have thought that such a little female could be so pigheaded? He could have dealt with another tantrum. He’d even half looked forward to that. If she’d been throwing things and shouting at him, he could have tossed her onto the bed and kissed the anger out of her.

But how the hell was a man supposed to deal with this kind of calm reason?

“I’ll give you time,” he snapped finally.

“Thank you.” Now that she had what she wanted, she gave him a sweet smile.

“Let me know when you’ve had enough time to think.” The sneer in his voice made his opinion of her request obvious. He jerked open the door and
cast her a warning look over his shoulder. “Just don’t think I’ll wait forever.”

He stalked out without bothering to wait for an answer. The door closed behind him with a finalsounding click.

Halfway down the hall he hesitated outside his old bedroom. When he’d married Eleanor they’d moved into the room his parents had shared. There was no reason for him to sleep in the barn when there was a perfectly good bed going to waste. A quiet sound from inside the master bedroom had him moving down the hall to the stairs.

He’d sleep better in the barn than he would in the house knowing Eleanor was just across the hall, alone in bed—the bed he had every right to be sharing with her.

The gray gelding stuck his head over the stall door, giving Luke a surprised look as he stalked past.

“Don’t get used to it,” Luke snarled. “I don’t plan on making a habit of this.”

It had to be his imagination that made the gelding’s snort sound full of disbelief. Wrapping himself in a blanket, Luke settled into a mound of hay and tilted his hat down over his eyes. He wished he’d never heard of the institution of marriage. As far as he could see, the main thing it seemed to accomplish
was to cut up a man’s peace and drive him out of his own home.

Give her time, she’d asked. Well, he’d give her time. But she’d better not expect him to wait forever. He was getting too damned old to be sleeping in the barn.

“T
hey drew straws?” Letty’s dark eyes were wide with shocked disbelief. “They actually drew straws to decide which of them would marry?”

“And the one who drew the shortest straw—the one who
lost
—had to find a bride.” Anger simmered in Eleanor’s voice. She’d had a week to adjust to the idea, but the time had done nothing to cool her ire. “Since Luke drew the short straw, he had to get married.”

Letty stared at her friend, and Eleanor found a certain grim satisfaction in the fact that the other woman was struck speechless. She’d felt much the same way when she’d found out the truth. Not exactly
speechless,
she corrected herself, remembering her fight with Luke.

“I just can’t believe that they’d make such an important decision in such a…childish fashion,”
Letty said finally. “Drawing straws. It just doesn’t seem possible.”

“It’s possible,” Eleanor assured her grimly. “Luke admitted as much.”

“Amazing.” Letty shook her head as she set her teacup on the small table beside her.

They were sitting in the parlor of the McLain house. With the drapes drawn back, sunlight spilled across freshly polished wood surfaces. A soft, early-summer breeze drifted through the open windows. The room was spotlessly clean and shone with the care that had been lavished on it in recent weeks.

She’d always wanted a home, Eleanor thought as she watched dust motes drift through a beam of sunlight. She had gained that when she married Luke, but in the past couple of weeks she’d realized that having a place to call her own had been the least important part of her dream. Without someone to love, someone who loved her, a house was just a house. It needed more than four walls and a fireplace to fill the emptiness in her heart.

“He didn’t have to marry
you,
did he?” Letty said slowly, searching for a bright spot in her friend’s situation. “He still had to choose a bride, and he chose you. That has to prove something.”

“Probably that I’m the most gullible-looking female he could find,” Eleanor said glumly.

“Now, that’s not true. You know as well as I do that there’s not an unmarried woman in Black Dog—and more than a few of the married ones—who wouldn’t have jumped at the chance to marry Luke McLain. And unless he’s blind, deaf and dumb, Luke knew it, too, what with every one of them making cow eyes at him. Don’t forget, your cousin Anabel practically threw herself at him. So obviously he had a reason for courting
you.
”

“That’s true.” Eleanor felt her mood brighten a little. Letty wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t already told herself but, hearing the words from someone else, they sounded more reassuring. But it still stung to think about Luke and Daniel drawing straws over who would
have
to get married.

“Does Luke know that you found out about this?”

“He knows.”

“I hope you let him know exactly what you thought of what they did.”

“I think he has a pretty good idea,” Eleanor murmured. Hitting him in the head with her shoe seemed to have gotten the point across.

“Good. Drawing straws, indeed!” The more Letty thought about it, the more indignant the idea
seemed to make her. “I’d thought better of Daniel. And of Luke, of course,” she added quickly, catching Eleanor’s interested look.

“Of course,” Eleanor agreed, but she took note of the reference to Daniel. It wasn’t the first time Letty had mentioned him. Despite her current annoyance with her brother-in-law, Eleanor had grown fond of him. If he and Letty were to fall in love…Eleanor barely restrained a grin. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have Letty as a sister by marriage? She filed the thought away for future reference. Perhaps if she could throw them together a little bit…

The opportunity came sooner than she’d imagined possible.

Half an hour later the two women were standing on the porch, lingering over their farewells, when Daniel rode into the ranch yard. He didn’t recognize the buggy sitting in front of the house but, seeing that Eleanor had a female guest, it wasn’t hard to guess her identity. He’d taken note of Letty Sinclair at his brother’s wedding. What man wouldn’t notice a trim figure with curves in all the right places and masses of dark hair that fairly begged for him to pull out the pins so that it could spill into his hands? She was a widow, if he remembered right. He’d always been partial to widows.
A nudge of his heel turned his horse in their direction.

He stopped his horse at the foot of the steps. Taking off his hat, he gave them his best smile, the one he’d once been told would melt any woman’s heart. Come to think of it, it had been a widow woman who’d told him that.

“Afternoon, Eleanor. Mrs. Sinclair.”

“Afternoon, Daniel.” He was surprised by the warmth of Eleanor’s greeting. She hadn’t been exactly friendly toward him since finding out about him and Luke drawing straws to see who’d have to marry.

“Mr. McLain.” Letty’s greeting seemed a bit on the cool side, and it occurred to Daniel that Eleanor might have told her the whole story. It was not a comfortable thought.

“Oh, heavens! I just remembered that I need to check my bread dough,” Eleanor said suddenly. “Excuse me.”

“I’ll say goodbye, then,” Letty said.

“No, I want to say a proper goodbye. I’ll only be a moment.” Eleanor’s skirt swished against the porch floor as she turned and hurried into the house. She left complete silence behind her.

“Nice day,” Daniel said.

“Yes.”

He waited, but she didn’t seem to have anything to add. She’d been putting on her gloves when he rode up and now she concentrated her attention on smoothing every tiny wrinkle from the soft kid. Must be shy, he decided. A shy widow—not exactly what he’d been hoping for, but he didn’t mind a bit of a challenge.

“It’s a long drive from town,” he said, trying another angle.

“Not really.”

“Long way for a woman to travel on her own.”

“I’m accustomed to looking out for myself.” Her tone was cool but Daniel persevered.

“It’s not safe for a woman alone.”

“A woman alone is quite safe, Mr. McLain. It’s when she’s in the company of men that she finds herself at risk.”

Daniel grinned. She had spirit. He liked that. “Perhaps I should escort you home, Mrs. Sinclair. Make sure you get back to town safe and sound.”

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you.” The last was added so grudgingly that Daniel’s grin widened.

“If you’re not careful, ma’am, you’ll give me the idea that you don’t care to have my company.” If he’d thought to embarrass her, he failed.

“And here I was beginning to think that you weren’t nearly as intelligent as I’d thought, Mr. McLain.” Her smile was so brilliant that it took Daniel a moment to realize that he’d just been insulted. It had been so neatly done that he couldn’t decide whether to be angry or amused. He raised one dark brow.

“I’m starting to get the impression that you don’t like me, Mrs. Sinclair.”

“I don’t know you.” His calm response had sparked Letty’s temper and she found herself saying more than she’d intended. “And I’ve no wish to know a man who’d draw straws to decide a woman’s future.”

“We were deciding our own futures,” he corrected her. His voice was sharper than he’d intended. He’d grown fond of Eleanor, and the hurt he’d seen in her eyes lately hadn’t made him feel particularly good about what he and Luke had done. He didn’t need someone else to point out the error of his ways.

“You’re splitting hairs, Mr. McLain. It was a schoolboy’s game, certainly not what one would expect from a pair of mature adults making such a critical decision.”

Daniel’s amusement lost out to annoyance. He didn’t like being scolded, particularly not by a
woman several years his junior—a very pretty woman. And the fact that she was probably right didn’t make him like it any more.

“I can see my presence is distressing to you, ma’am,” he said with cold formality. “I’ll take my leave now. Good day.”

“Good day to you, sir.” Letty’s nod was regal enough for royalty.

Daniel’s mouth tightened as he set his hat back on his head. With a nod as icy as her own, he reined his horse around and rode out of the ranch yard.

Females. Who needed ‘em.

Eleanor returned to the porch in time to see her brother-in-law ride away. “Where is Daniel going?” she asked.

“I have no idea.”

“Did you two quarrel?” Eleanor asked, studying her friend’s flushed cheeks and too-bright eyes.

“Certainly not! I don’t know Mr. McLain well enough to quarrel with him. And you needn’t think that I don’t know exactly what you’re up to, Eleanor.” Letty fixed her friend with a stern look. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker for me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eleanor widened her eyes innocently. “I had to check on my bread, else it might have risen too high.”

Letty’s snort of disbelief made clear her opinion of the thin excuse. “If I want to catch Daniel McLain—and, mind you, I’m saying
if
—I’ll go about it in my own time and in my own way. I don’t know that I’ll bother.” But her eyes drifted after Daniel, watching as he rode out of the ranch yard.

“He’s very handsome, don’t you think?” Eleanor followed her friend’s gaze. Next to Luke she thought Daniel was the most attractive man she’d ever seen.

“Handsome is as handsome does,” Letty said repressively.

Eleanor was kind enough not to ask her what she meant. She followed the other woman down the porch steps to where Letty’s buggy waited. Unlooping the reins from the hitching rail, Letty climbed up and settled herself on the padded seat. She looked at Eleanor.

“You’ve concerns enough of your own without trying to matchmake for me.”

That was certainly true enough, Eleanor thought as she watched Letty drive away. She had more than enough concerns of her own. She sighed as she turned and went back into the house. It had been almost two weeks since her quarrel with Luke, since she’d asked him to give her time to adjust to the real reason he’d married her. He’d given her what she’d
asked for. But she was starting to wonder if she might have made a mistake in the asking.

Eleanor went into the parlor and began gathering the tea things onto a tray. What bothered her wasn’t that their bed seemed shockingly empty without Luke in it. It was that he hadn’t, by word or glance, given her any reason to think that he was all that anxious to return to that bed. Since the night he’d slammed out of their bedroom he’d treated her with a cool politeness that sent a chill right through her. She could have been the housekeeper he and Daniel might have hired if he hadn’t married her.

Had it been a mistake to ask him to sleep somewhere else? What had she really hoped to accomplish? They were married. Nothing was going to change that. Just as nothing was going to change the circumstances under which their marriage had begun.

Eleanor sighed as she carried the tea things into the kitchen. Maybe she’d let her temper get the best of her. What if all she’d accomplished was to remind Luke of how easily he could get along without her? It wasn’t as if she were a beauty, like her cousin Anabel, the kind of woman a man couldn’t help but want. Maybe she’d just given him a chance to realize that he’d
prefer
to sleep alone.

Setting the tray down on the kitchen table, Eleanor began putting things away. Her teeth worried at the inside of her lower lip as she worked. She’d remade two of his mother’s dresses, and the deep, rich colors suited her better than anything she’d ever owned. She knew, without vanity, that she looked almost pretty in them. She might never be as beautiful as Anabel but she wasn’t unpleasant to look at.

She smoothed one hand over the deep rose skirt and wondered wistfully if Luke had noticed how she looked.

Luke had noticed.

He’d noticed the warm glow of her skin, the lustrous darkness of her hair, the way her brown eyes sparkled when she smiled—not that she’d thrown a whole lot of smiles in his direction lately. He’d noticed the soft curves of her body, the feminine sway of her hips. There wasn’t much about Eleanor that he
hadn’t
noticed.

Luke tipped his hat back on his head, allowing the late-afternoon breeze to cool the sweat on his forehead. Reaching for the makings, he rolled himself a smoke, letting the roan choose his own path home. He’d spent most of the day clearing away a rock fall that had blocked a spring, one of the few in the area that could be depended on to
give water all summer long. Depended on as much as one could depend on anything in nature, anyway. Lighting the cigarette, Luke squinted against the bright sunlight. If the past few weeks were anything to judge by, it was going to be a hot summer.

Of course, if you looked at it another way, it could be mighty cold. His thinking circled back around to Eleanor, something it did all too frequently these days. His wife’s attitude was as chilly as the weather was hot. He’d thought getting married was going to make his life simpler. He should have known better. When had a woman ever made anything simpler?

Look how she’d complicated things by falling into a fit of the sulks over him and Daniel drawing straws, something that hadn’t had anything to do with her. He hadn’t even known she existed when he drew that damned short straw, he thought, annoyed all over again. What difference did it make
how
they’d come to be married? They were married and that was all there was to it. She was just being stubborn and…female about the whole thing.

Luke took a deep drag on his cigarette, his dark brows hooking together in a frown as the house came into sight. He should never have let Daniel convince him that one of them had to get married.
They’d been doing fine without a wife. Good food and a clean house hardly balanced out the trouble of having to deal with a woman. And at the moment those were the only benefits he was getting out of this marriage.

Thinking of the benefits he was missing, his frown deepened into a scowl. He was getting damned tired of sleeping in the barn. But he’d be double damned before he’d move to the bunkhouse and let the hands know that he’d been thrown out of his own bed. The way they were treating Eleanor these days, they’d probably assume he’d done something to deserve it, Luke thought sourly. She had his cowboys acting like schoolboys anxious to impress a new teacher.