To Wed a Wanton Woman (21 page)

* * *

TJ walked to the shack when Marion hadn’t returned with his horse. He expected to find Train, only to be told Train
hadn’t returned either.

Jack sucked his long, thin, cigar and blew a
smoke ring into the air. “I’m sure our good friend Train is having a very tasty
lunch that has nothing to do with Cake’s fine vittles.” His comment met with
laughter. “No disrespect intended, boss. We made the same comments about your
beautiful, young wife. When I find a good woman, you can be assured I’ll be taking
my chuck at home as well.”

TJ took Jack at his word and walked back out
of the building to check the horses in the stable.

Once TJ was out the door, Jack whispered in
a conspiratorial tone, “And a few of us know just how good Train is eating.” His
boisterous laugh echoed off the walls. Jack continued, expressing his knowledge
of Marion’s anatomy.

Cake interrupted, slamming a large pot of
potatoes onto the table. “In my kitchen you’ll show your manners! Disrespecting
Train is like disrespecting the boss. Not one of your jobs is secure enough to
talk about that girl the way you are. Whatever she was is none of our business.
Now, get out of here. You’re bothering me,” he bellowed. “Get back to work.”

The group quickly dispersed.

Outside Jack leaned into Charlie. “I don’t
care beans what that old man says. Marion isn’t a one-man woman. In fact, she’s
known for it.”

Charlie laughed. “I guess you’ve never had
the privilege of a cattle drive with Train. You learn a lot about a man when
you don’t have any privacy. If you ask me, he’s the only chap for a whore like Marion.”

“Here they come,” Jack said quickly. “Don’t
say anything.”

“Worried he’d knock the tar out of you?”
Charlie mounted, pulling the reins of his horse and digging in his heels. “You
look guilty, Jack. Better keep your eyes on the ground if you can’t keep them
off Train’s wife.”

Train and Marion stopped their horses in
front of the stable. Marion slid from her horse. “Thanks, TJ,” she said,
handing him the reins. She turned to Train. “I’ll see you later.” The cool
breeze whipped her hair around her face when she smiled. “Have a good day.”

Train let her walk away without saying
anything. He wanted to profess his love in front of everyone, but Marion still hadn’t returned the sentiment. He still wasn’t sure if she did love him. So
for now, until he was certain, it was better to leave certain words unsaid. Let
Jack and the others make their own assumptions.

“Congratulations,” Jack said, looking down
at Train from his saddle. “Are you going to let us throw you and your new wife a
party?”

“Already in the works.” TJ mounted his
horse. “Hadn’t had a chance to tell you,” he said to Train.

Train furrowed his brows.

“Cake’s making a mess of ribs.”

“Great,” Train said dejectedly, pulling his
horse next to TJ’s. “I’m sure Marion will be thrilled.”

* * *

Marion
decided Allison looked much better after lunch. The color had returned to her
cheeks and evidently, the smell of food was appetizing. She had bread in the
oven, and was putting together a concoction of meat and vegetables into a large
cast iron pot.

Marion
sat at the table and sipped a cup of coffee. “Train wants curtains for the
windows. Seems my lack of modesty causes him concern.”

Allison wiped her hands on her apron. “TJ’s
first wife loved to catalog shop. I found packages that had never been opened
when I started cleaning out closets.” She looked over her shoulder at Marion as they climbed the stairs. “I found the sheets and blankets for your bed. I doubt
you took the time to look last night,” she said amused. “But I left supplies
for a linen closet, bath towels, and hand towels. You probably won’t appreciate
it, but I also gave you cleaning rags.” She entered the spare bedroom that no
longer had a bed and opened the top dresser drawer. She pulled out yards of
heavy fabric.

“It’s red.” Marion worried. Train’s reaction
to the furniture didn’t bode well for the curtains. “Train hates red.”

“It’s not red. It’s maroon.”

Marion
gave her a look that asked, what’s the difference?

“This is dark red.” Allison held the fabric
out for her to take. “I think it will make beautiful curtains. And it’s heavy
enough to turn the room dark during the day.” She put the fabric in Marion’s hands. “Take it, please.” She smiled.

“I’m telling Train it was your idea.” Marion grabbed the fabric from Allison’s outstretched arms.

Allison showed Marion how to do a simple
straight stitch. Marion examined the curtains Allison made and decided she
could accomplish a similar look for her windows. “I’m going home.” She gathered
up the supplies. “It sounds strange to my own ears. I have a home and a
husband.” She dropped her hands into her lap. “Look at me. I’m really happy.”

Allison kissed her cheek. “It shows. Now go
home and sew curtains for your husband. Prove you can do more with your hands
than, well, he knows more about what you do with your hands than I do.”

Feeling confident in her newfound skills, Marion went to the shack. If Train were spending the next few days, possibly weeks,
working all day, she had another idea to impress her husband.

* * *

Train was bone tired when he returned home
well after dark. A delicious smell filled the room. He couldn’t help the look
of pleasure sure to be on his face finding his woman sitting at the table with
a needle and thread. The makings of a fine dinner suspended on a hook over the
fire. “I’m more tired than I thought. This is clearly a dream or perhaps a
nightmare,” he said while he hung his hat on a peg next to the front door.
“What are you doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like I’m doing. Give
me a couple more hours and there will be curtains covering those windows. Now
you won’t have to worry when I spend my day half-dressed.” She held up the
first completed curtain. She walked to the window so Train could see how it
would look.

“I don’t like the color.” He went to the
fireplace and stirred the pot. “You cooked?”

“Cake made up a pot of stew for me. All I
had to do was hang it over a low fire for the afternoon.” She smiled proudly. “As
for the fabric, Allison had it on hand. I figured maroon--” she stated,
defiantly. “--would be better than nothing at all. I told her you wouldn’t like
the color, but she insisted I take it. Do you really hate it or could you live
with it?”

“I’m tolerating Sandy’s furniture. I’ll get
over red curtains, too.”

“They match a dress of mine. I haven’t worn
it because I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.” She picked up her needle and
thread to start on the next curtain.

 “Wear what you want here in the house.” He
ladled two bowls of stew. “When did you see Cake?” He tried to sound uninterested,
failing miserably.

Marion
tossed the curtain onto the table and stabbed the needle into a pincushion. “Show
a little appreciation.”

“I love the curtains. I hate you in the
shack.”

“We’ve been over this. I’m not sitting in
this house every day for the rest of my life.” She stood and walked around the
table in the opposite direction of Train. “And it’s not Allison’s
responsibility to entertain me. I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’m not
about to play the submissive wife.”

“I’m not asking you to play at anything. But
you should still respect my wishes. I hate other men looking at you.”

“Sometimes I hate you.” She opened the door,
stomped out, and slammed it closed behind her.

 Train was about to run after her, and then
rethought the decision. She had a reason to be angry, but he couldn’t help the
flash of jealousy firing through him at the thought of other men wanting her.

Rumors were rampant. Gossip over who had
seen her at the brothel. A few professed to having been a patron of hers. It
did bother him that the rumors could very well be true.

Train poured a drink and stepped out onto
the porch to sip it. He scanned the edge of the lake looking for Marion. He saw her sitting under his favorite tree.

“Are we always going to fight?” she asked
when he approached.

“You’re a betting girl. What do you think?”
He rested his wrists against a branch just above his head.

She glanced up at him. “You sound as if you
like the idea.”

“You’re a passionate woman. A fiery temper
comes with the territory.” He sat next to her.

“Then why do you take pleasure in making me wrathy?”

“For the same reason you take pleasure in
making me jealous.” He put his hand on the back of her neck. “We both like the
excitement.”

Marion
pressed the pad of her finger into the soft soil at the base of the tree. “I
guess we both like to play games.” She held her hand out for him to help her
up. “The trouble with games is that someone always loses.”

Train gently kissed her lips. “I like a good
sparring because I know you’ll take it out on me in bed.” He kissed her again
covering her breast with his hand. “And I know you love to make me jealous
because I can make you beg for release.”

Marion
slipped her hands around his neck. “You’re saying a good fight works for us.”

“Works for me.”

Chapter Thirteen

A few weeks later, Marion’s bare feet
crushed the frost covered prairie grass as she hurried back from the outhouse.
Train hadn’t seen a water closet as a necessity when building the house. She
shivered in the early morning light just before sunup.

Train sat at the table sipping a cup of
coffee. “You should wear shoes when you go out. Another week or two and
there’ll be snow on the ground.”

She briskly rubbed them together in front of
the fire, bringing warmth back into her hands. “Will you be gone all day?” she
asked, hoping she didn’t sound eager for him to be out of the house. “I thought
I’d go help Allison today. The baby is still making her sick.”

“TJ said she was feeling like herself again.”
Train watched her, taking another sip.

“I think she puts up a brave front so TJ
won’t worry.” She took her coffee cup and sat in the chair to his right. She
propped her feet up on his lap. “If you’ll come home for lunch, I’ll wait until
this afternoon to go over.”

He wrapped his fingers around her toes. “Are
you going to wear your dress that matches the curtains?” he joked.

“Will it make a difference?”

“No, I like you naked.” He pushed her feet
off his lap. “But not today, I’m heading into high country. I doubt I’ll be
home before dark. Now that the weather is changing, the deer will be looking
for food. Good time for hunting. Cake loves to cook up a nice piece of venison.”
He put his cup on the hutch next to the sink basin in the small kitchen area.
“TJ usually goes, too.”

“Then I guess I’ll stay at the ranch house
and have dinner with Allison and the children.” She put her cup next to his. “I’m
going back to bed for a while.” She kissed him, making contact with the side of
his mouth more than his lips.

“See you tonight,” he replied.

Marion
climbed beneath the covers until only the top of her head was visible.

She waited until she heard Clive race away
from the house before tossing off the covers and getting dressed. Outside, she
went around to the side of the house, pulled one of the few remaining crates
into the kitchen area, and began to unpack Sandy’s dishes into the black
lacquer hutch that matched the desk still in the stable. As soon as she got a
few chores done, she could get out of the house.

* * *

Train pulled his heavy parka up over his
ears. Lately it seemed Marion was hiding something from him and he’d yet to
figure out what. He didn’t think she was lying to him as much as omitting the
details of how she spent her days.

“We’re in for an early winter,” Charlie said
on the horse next to him. “TJ already has the fields turned under. Figure he
expects the snow to fly early. Will you be making a run into town?” He took a
breath, but continued. “So how’s the house? You put it up fast. Hopefully the
roof won’t leak.”

Train listened to Charlie dance around what was
really interesting him. He wanted the details of how his marriage came to be.

“You thinking the same thing everyone else
is, Charlie?” Glancing over, he summed up Charlie’s interest by the slump of
his shoulders and the furrowing of his brows. “The house is sturdy,” he said
when Charlie didn’t respond.

They rode in silence for another mile up the
mountain. “Let’s break by the river and see what comes our way. Maybe we’ll get
lucky and make an early kill. I want to get home before dark.” Train angled
Clive to move off to the left.

They tethered their horses to a tree a few
yards from the river and hunkered down in the brush. Train pulled his hat low
over his eyes and tightened his coat around his neck. “Jerky?” he offered
instead of tobacco. He didn’t want to scare away any potential game with the
smell.