Tracie Peterson (4 page)

Chapter 5

D
aughtry tried to ignore her concern for the absent husband she’d never met. Three days had passed since she’d arrived at the ranch, and Nicholas had still not come back. Trying to soothe her worry, Daughtry set up Nicholas’s picture on the small table in the kitchen and, as she worked, she talked to him as though he were there.

“I’m going to have to start bringing up wood,” she said absentmindedly. “It’s getting considerably colder and pretty soon it’s bound to snow. I used the last of the coal, or at least what I could find, so I guess I’ll just have to go down to that grove of trees and see what I can find there.”

Daughtry had worked wonders with the place and, in spite of her nervous state of mind, she was pleased with the way things were shaping up. She’d inventoried the supplies and managed to find a pantry just off the kitchen that she’d not seen in her first day of exploring. Nicholas had laid up quite a store of canned goods and smoked meats, as well as plenty of flour, sugar, soda, and salt. Daughtry nearly cried in joy at the sight of so much food.

Her first project had been to clean the kitchen. She reasoned that if she could have this one room in perfect order, she could easily work with the others at her leisure. Going around the room, she noted what was worth keeping and what was plain and simple trash. The curtains were still in good shape but needed to be washed, so Daughtry removed them and began heating water in the biggest pot she could find.

Piece by piece, she emptied the room, until nothing remained but the dirty black stove and the empty ice-box. She found soap in the supplies that the freighter had left in the barn, as well as brushes and a well-made broom. Taking these, she scrubbed the grime from the walls, floors, counters, and cabinets, until everything was spotless. After this, she tackled the stove, washing it thoroughly until she was satisfied that she could cook food without fear of catching something from the filth.

Bit by bit, the room took shape, and Daughtry continued to talk to Nicholas as though he were there, relating her plans as she continued.

She went to work cleaning the small table and chairs that had set in the kitchen, as well as the pie saver and jelly cabinet that she’d taken outside. She was
just about to move them indoors, when she remembered something in the barn.

Setting out across the yard, Daughtry opened the barn door and went inside. After several minutes of searching, she returned to the house with a bucket of white paint and a brush. Maybe Nicholas hadn’t planned on the house being painted inside, but Daughtry thought a fresh coat of whitewash would help matters a great deal. If he were mad at her, then she’d just have to apologize and try to fix the matter. That was, if he ever showed up.

More nosing around revealed a wealth of useful household goods, and Daughtry began to take courage from the way the house shaped up. The kitchen was actually attractive now with its freshly painted walls and cabinets. The shelves were lined with sparkling dishes from sets that Daughtry had found in crates in the large sitting room, and the pots gleamed from her hours of scrubbing.

Every night, Daughtry went to bed more exhausted than the night before. After the second day, she’d made notable progress with the bedroom, feeling that this was the next place to be put in order. After wrestling the mattress outside and beating it until the entire yard looked like the middle of a dust storm, Daughtry scrubbed down the room and furniture. Finally, she washed every article of clothing and all of the linens before deeming the bedroom acceptable.

She didn’t have long to wonder what she’d need to turn her attention to next. When it rained on the second night, Daughtry learned quickly that the roof was leaky. Steady drips fell from the ceiling in more than one place, and Daughtry knew that her job in the morning would consist of trying to repair and reshingle her roof.

She barely had time to worry about her husband. For all she knew, he didn’t even exist, except that she had papers that told her otherwise. Every day, she tried to make ready for his return. She wanted very much to prove herself worthy in his eyes. And oh, what eyes, she thought as she drifted into sleep. Dark, dark eyes that seemed to laugh at some private joke. Dark eyes that Daughtry prayed would behold her with love and devotion.

Daughtry rose early, thankful that the storm had passed early in the night. She pulled on the set of boy’s clothes she’d brought with her from home, finding them much easier to work in, and planned her day.

She set bread out to rise and made herself some breakfast before considering the roof. The kitchen was chilly, and Daughtry was grateful for the warmth of the stove. She reminded herself that leaky roofs could be lived with as long as she could keep a fire warming the house. With that in mind, she decided to bring more wood up to the house before worrying herself with anything else.

The day was rapidly getting away from her, and the sky was clouding up again. Daughtry knew she should at least try to check the roof out and see if she could do anything about the leaks, just in case it rained again that night.

Making her way to the barn, Daughtry found an old wooden ladder and took it with her to the house. She climbed up on top, noting several very soft spots, and began picking away at the tattered shingles. She was used to adobe houses, but this clapboard house she now called home was very similar to some of the other buildings at Piñon Canyon. Daughtry had helped her father and brothers on more than one occasion with roofing, repairing, and building. She had loved working alongside her family and learning every aspect of how to make the ranch run prosperously.

This was the first time Daughtry had allowed herself to remember her family and tears came to her eyes. Were they worried about her? Of course they were, she chided herself. Her father would be frantic, even though she’d left them a long letter explaining her need to get out on her own. Would they ever forgive her for stealing away in the night? Would she ever be welcomed back?

Exhaustion overwhelmed Daughtry as she climbed into bed that night. How she longed for a bath in a tub of hot water. But for now, she had to settle for washing out of the kitchen sink, where she poured pans of heated water. Perhaps she could talk Nicholas into purchasing a tub—if he ever showed up.

She drifted immediately into sleep, succumbing to the strain of the days that had passed in heavy, never-ending work. Daughtry dreamed of dark eyes and a handsome face, wondering where her husband was and why he’d not returned. The picture of Nicholas faded into that of her father’s angry image, and Daughtry tossed restlessly as she sought to escape his rage.

Then the dream took another path, one that Daughtry had never before envisioned. She was being held safe and warm in muscular arms. Snuggling closer, Daughtry felt a hand run through her long hair. Sighing, she relished the dream. This would be what it was like to be held by Nicholas, she decided.

Then, to her surprise, Daughtry felt warm lips against her cheek. They trailed down to capture her lips, and Daughtry returned the kiss.

In the foggy uncertainty of sleep, Daughtry struggled to open her eyes. A part of her wanted to go on sleeping so that she could enjoy the dream, but another part of her was being beckoned. She could almost hear someone calling her name.

Daughtry tried to concentrate on the voice but it faded, and as it did, she became more awake, until she suddenly realized that she wasn’t alone. Opening her eyes wide, Daughtry stared into the amused dark eyes of Nicholas Dawson.

For a moment all Daughtry could do was stare. Was she dreaming or was this real? The shocked look on her face caused the man beside her to chuckle.

“I–I—” Daughtry couldn’t speak a coherent word to save herself. Shyly, she pulled her arms from the man’s neck and tried to ease away from him, as if he wouldn’t notice.

Nicholas sat up and Daughtry could see he was fully clothed and sitting atop the covers she so carefully clutched to her neck. With a grin he spoke. “I sure hope you’re my wife.”

Daughtry saw nothing amusing about the situation. She was trembling from head to toe, and whether it was from the shock of finding Nicholas in her bed or from the passion he’d awoke in her, Daughtry wasn’t sure.

In a flash, Daughtry leaped from the bed and ran for the door. She knew
her long flannel nightgown wouldn’t offer her much coverage, but she was
n’t about to stop and retrieve her robe on the way out the door. She reached for the handle and had just turned it, when Nicholas was beside her.

“Don’t go. I’m sorry I scared you. It wasn’t very nice of me, but I couldn’t help myself.” His voice was rich and warm, just as Daughtry knew it would be. Daughtry let her hand slip from the handle, but she couldn’t bring herself to face her husband.

Slowly, as if dealing with a terrified child, Nicholas turned her to face him. “I’m Nicholas Dawson, although I’m sure you’ve already figured that out. You look just like your picture.”

Daughtry lifted her face to meet his. “You too,” she whispered.

Nicholas smiled and his eyes lit up. “I never figured on getting such a beauty for a wife. I wasn’t even sure you’d agree, what with me in such a hurry and all. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I had to be away on business, and I just got back this morning.”

Daughtry nodded and looked away. Her senses were suddenly raging with all that she was seeing, hearing, and feeling. As if realizing she needed the space, Nicholas stepped back and waited for her to speak.

“I’m Daughtry Lucas, I mean, Dawson,” she said nervously. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “I didn’t know when you’d be back. I took some liberty with the house. I’m sorry if I overstepped my rights, I mean, I didn’t know what you’d expect of a wife, and I, well. . .” Daughtry stopped as she realized she was rambling and twisting her nightgown.

Nicholas just grinned at her, making the whole situation even more uncomfortable. Daughtry glanced at the bed, and her face flushed crimson.

Noting where her gaze ended, Nicholas reached out and touched Daughtry’s cheek. “I really am sorry for startling you. I should have waited until you woke up good and proper, but I haven’t always used the sense the good Lord gave me. What say you get dressed and come on out to the kitchen and we’ll talk?”

Daughtry was mesmerized by the way his thumb was rubbing her jawline. His fingers were on her neck, and the warmth of their contact against her bare skin sent tremors through Daughtry that she couldn’t control.

Surprising them both, Daughtry jumped from the door and moved back to the end of the bed. “I’ve got my things in here,” she said motioning to the wardrobe. “If you’ll wait in the other room, I’ll get dressed.”

Nicholas nodded, the smile never leaving his face. When he had gone from the room, closing the door firmly behind him, Daughtry’s knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor.

“Dear God,” she prayed in a whisper, “I’ve really done it this time. Please help me to know what to do and say, and please don’t let Nicholas be mad about the paint. Amen.”

Getting dressed as quickly as she could, Daughtry laughed to herself.
Paint? I’m worried about paint?

Chapter 6

D
aughtry hurried into the kitchen to find her husband sitting comfortably at the small table. She pulled her apron from a hook near the door and tied it around her trim waist. Nicholas watched all of this in complete silence, surprised at the control Daughtry seemed to have managed to regain in her few minutes alone.

He watched her as she put wood in the stove and got the fire going. He was more than a little impressed at what he’d found upon his return. Truth be told, he nearly walked back out the door, fearing that he’d entered the wrong house. A double take confirmed that he was indeed in the right house but that a transformation of tremendous proportions had taken place. Now looking at the petite and delicate woman he’d married, Nicholas was even more surprised.

Daughtry put a pot of coffee on the stove and turned to question her hus
band.

“What would you like for breakfast?”

Nicholas smiled to himself. He hadn’t had someone to wait on him since leaving home and that seemed a million years ago. “Whatever you’re having,” he replied and leaned back against the chair.

Daughtry looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I have fresh bread and of course there are the canned foods. I wasn’t able to locate any eggs or potatoes, so I can’t really do you justice with anything grand. I could make tortillas and heat up some of the meat from the pantry.” She fell silent and shrugged her shoulders. “I was just going to have toasted bread and jam.”

“Sounds fine for me as well.”

Daughtry nodded and went back to work, while Nicholas continued his silent study. He figured she was about five feet, four inches tall. Surely no taller, and she couldn’t weigh more than one hundred pounds. She had pulled her hair up into a loose bun of rich copper. He liked the shade, never even imagining from her photograph what color her hair might be. She had a sweet
face. Almost angelic, he thought. In fact, she looked so childlike that
Nicholas suddenly sat up with a start.

“How old are you?”

“A lady should never reveal her age, Mr. Dawson.” Her smile was brief and Nicholas caught her teasing tone. “However, because you are my husband and entitled to know full well what you’ve saddled yourself with, I will admit that I’m quite old.”

Nicholas laughed at this, and the amusement lingered in his eyes. “How old?”

“I’m twenty-three. I’ll be twenty-four in January,” Daughtry said with something akin to regret in her voice.

“A mere baby,” he chided and was rewarded with a look of sincere appreciation in his wife’s eyes. Had someone honestly told this slip of girl that she was old?

Daughtry brought the toast and coffee to the table, then retrieved two mugs, a knife, and the jam before sitting opposite Nicholas.

“Would you ask the blessing?” she asked rather timidly.

“Certainly,” he said without a second thought and bowed his head. “Father, thank You for this food and the hard labors of this industrious young woman. I ask that You would bless this house and this union between Daughtry and me and let us live our days devoted to You, Amen.”

Daughtry looked up filled with wonder. “That was a beautiful prayer. Especially asking God to bless our marriage.” She paused for a moment, then jumped right into the matter. “We do have a rather strange arrangement here, don’t we?”

Amused, Nicholas reached out and took several pieces of toast. He liberally slathered jam across each piece and handed two to Daughtry before replying. “Strange doesn’t half seem to explain it.”

Daughtry poured the coffee and began to feel at ease. “I’ve always been a very straightforward kind of woman, Mr. Dawson.”

“Please don’t call me Mr. Dawson. Call me Nicholas or Nick, but not that.”

Daughtry smiled. “All right. As I was saying, I like to be honest about things and I don’t like to play games, at least not people games. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so,” he said with a gentleness in his expression that further dispelled Daughtry’s anxieties.

“I’ve never been the kind of person to jump into things without real regard to the consequences, but this time seems to be an exception. I’m not sure I did the right thing in marrying you, but it is done and I don’t believe in divorce or annulments. I just wanted you to know that I take our marriage very seriously.” Nicholas stared at her soberly while she continued. “I intend to make you a good wife. I will work hard, and I know a great deal about ranching. I’m not weak or fragile, and I’ve spent most all of my life working outdoors alongside. . .” Daughtry stopped abruptly. “Well,” she continued hesitantly, “I’ve spent a lot of time working at the kind of things that will build this place into a respectable and profitable ranch.”

A smile played at the corners of Nicholas’s lips. “Anything else?”

Daughtry put her coffee down and took a deep breath. “I suppose I should say that I’m a Christian. I believe in walking close with the Lord and reading the Word every day. I like to go to church and fellowship with other believers, and I will never do anything willingly that goes against the laws of God.”

“I see.”

Daughtry pressed on lest she lose her nerve. “I’m a very devoted person to those I love and care for. I will endeavor to be whatever you need me to be.” She was blushing profusely at this point. “And, while I know very little about you, I am very teachable and happy to learn.”

Nicholas reached out and put his hand over hers. “What about children?”

Daughtry’s eyes flashed up to meet his. “I love children.”

Nicholas patted her hand and smiled. “Good, because I do too and hope that we can fill this house with a dozen or more.”

Daughtry’s eyes widened at his boldness. “Well, I don’t know if I love them that much.” Her teasing was clearly evident and Nicholas laughed.

“I think I’m going to enjoy being married to you, Daughtry. I, too, have had my misgivings about marrying a person of which I knew nothing more about than the fact that she had beautiful penmanship and took a lovely picture.”

Daughtry started to thank him for the compliment, but he continued to speak. “I did, however, pray about this matter and felt that God’s answer was found in your letter. I worried that perhaps my desire to rush the marriage would put you off, but again I prayed and asked God to intercede and bring the event about. And, well, here you are, and I must say that I am more than a little bit impressed with the answer God’s given. Not only are you the loveliest woman I’ve had the pleasure of knowing, but you’re intelligent, witty, and very charming. Not to mention that you’ve accomplished in a few short days what I believe would have taken most men weeks to do.”

Daughtry remembered the paint and grimaced. “I used your paint,” she said, still not sure why it upset her so much. “I saw it with the supplies in the barn and, while I was cleaning the kitchen, I thought it looked like it could use a good coat. I hope you aren’t upset with me. I didn’t mean to use something without permission.”

Nicholas stared at her rather sternly for a moment before replying. “What I have is yours, Daughtry. How could I possibly fault you for benefiting us both? That’s just another thing I like about you. You’re willing to just get in there and do what needs to be done. That’s to your credit. You aren’t one of those sad little women who sit around all lost and doe-eyed, waiting for their husband to instruct them in what they should do next. I like what you’ve done here, so stop fretting.” Daughtry relaxed, realizing he was completely sincere.

“I do have some questions, though,” Nicholas said, surprising her.
Daughtry nodded to show her willingness to answer but was even more surprised with the topic of his question. “Have you ever been in love?”

Daughtry thought back through her life, especially the years before Julie had died. She’d found more than one cowboy fascinating company, but only on friendly terms. She couldn’t honestly remember feeling anything akin to what she was feeling for Nicholas, however, and that gave her reason to believe that she’d actually fallen in love with her husband.

“No,” she answered softly.

“Me neither,” he offered. “I just wondered if there were any ghosts that needed to be laid to rest. You know, broken hearts, lost loves, that kind of thing.”

Daughtry shook her head. “I can honestly say there was no one.”

“Why were you inclined to answer my advertisement?” he continued.

“I guess,” she began, “that your advertisement intrigued me. I thought the whole notion sounded, well, rather,” she hesitated and looked away, “romantic.”

“I’ve never been called romantic before.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Daughtry replied without thinking.

“Why’s that?” Nicholas questioned, honestly wanting to know what was going through his young wife’s mind.

Daughtry shifted uncomfortably. “Do I have to answer that?”

Nicholas laughed. “I’d sure like it if you did.”

“Very well,” she murmured and tried to reason out her words before speaking. “You strike me as a very considerate man,” she began, “a man who would be most sought after by the ladies of his community. You are very. . .” She swallowed several times, then took a drink of coffee.

“I am very what?” He sensed her discomfort but was completely captivated with what she had to say.

“You are very handsome,” she said. “I was very taken with your photograph and the way you signed your letter.”

“The way I signed my letter?”

Nicholas leaned back in his chair and waited for her to explain. If she took all day, he wanted to hear exactly what she had to say.

Daughtry blushed and confusion filled her mind. “Forever yours,” she whispered. “You signed your letter, ‘Forever yours.’ ”

Nicholas smiled. He’d purposefully chosen that very ending after remembering it from one of his father’s letters to his mother. His mother had told Nicholas once that the phrase was more than mere words, it was a pledge of sorts, and she had cherished it greatly. Now his own wife seemed to savor the words for the exact same reason.

“Something I learned from my father,” he explained.

Daughtry used that introduction to Nicholas’s past to question him further. “Tell me about yourself.”

Nicholas shrugged. “Not much to tell. Nobody ever baked me bread as good as this, that’s for sure.”

“I’m serious,” Daughtry said, pouring more coffee into her empty cup. “What about your family?”

“What about yours?”

“I’m alone,” Daughtry replied.

“Me too,” her husband replied and furthered her frustration.

“How am I to get to know you, if you won’t tell me about yourself?” questioned Daughtry softly.

Nicholas leaned forward and smiled, revealing gleaming white teeth and eyes that fairly danced. “We have a lifetime to get to know one another,” he answered. “I just don’t think we need to do it all at one time. I’m going to enjoy getting to know you, little by little.”

Without another word, Daughtry got to her feet, left the room for a moment, and returned with papers in hand.

“These are the marriage documents,” she said, handing them to Nicholas.

Nicholas read them over and cast a glance upward to meet Daughtry’s eyes. “Our wedding day was the twenty-first of September?”

Daughtry nodded.

“Wish I could have been there. I’ll bet you were something to behold.” Daughtry laughed at this, and Nicholas smiled broadly at her. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just that I look a whole sight better now than I did that day. Later, I’ll show you what I was wearing.”

Nicholas got up and went to the front sitting room where he retrieved a lock box, which he promptly brought back with him to the table. Taking a key from his vest pocket, he unlocked the box and carefully put the papers inside. Daughtry noticed when he did that her picture and letter were also inside the box, along with a large amount of money.

“They should be safe here,” he announced and held up the key. “If you need anything, money or such, or you want to put something in here, just holler.”

Daughtry nodded. “Just a minute, please,” she said and went to the bed
room.

When she walked back into the kitchen, she thrust some money into Nicholas’s hands. “I’d like to add this to your savings,” she whispered. “It’s all I had left after the trip.”

Nicholas took the money and met Daughtry’s eyes. He knew what she was doing and felt what she was trying to say without even hearing the words. He nodded, placed the money with his own, and shut the box. “Our savings,” he said, locking the box and handing Daughtry the key. It was his way of meeting her trust with his own.

Daughtry reached up, but instead of taking the key, simply closed her hand around Nicholas’s and smiled. “I’m content for you to have control.”