Montana Sky: Anson's Mail-Order Bride (Kindle Worlds) (The Jones's of Morgan's Crossing Book 1)
Page 7
He’d need to get a fire going regardless – the nights could get pretty chilly, and he and Zadie had yet to figure out the sleeping arrangements. Well, other than the obvious. He’d be either on the floor or outside – and he’d much prefer the floor.
Anson made up his mind to give Zadie time to get to know him better, a couple of weeks if necessary, before he exercised his husbandly rights. He’d rather it was less, as he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to hold out. Her warm body pressed against him all day on Hamlet had been very pleasant, and he’d had several thoughts about his new bride he shouldn’t … if they hadn’t been married. But that remained. They were husband and wife, and a man could only wait so long …
He took a deep breath and went into the cabin. As he entered, Zadie looked up and smiled. “Was there someplace to put Hamlet?”
“Yes, this cabin has a lean-to behind it. He’ll be fine until we leave in the morning.”
“When will we get home?”
“Before dark tomorrow. I’m a couple of hours on this side of Morgan’s Crossing. As soon as we get there I’ll have to check on the horses and take care of a few things. You can fix supper for us.”
She flinched. Uh-oh. “About that, I … well, you know I can’t cook.”
“I’ll get a fire going in the stove and you can heat something up. I’ve got a few cans of beans. The next day, we’ll have to go into town and get more supplies. I picked up a few things before I left for Sweetwater Springs, but I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking very clearly at the time.”
“Oh yes. I’m sure my note gave you quite the shock.”
He chuckled. “You have no idea.” He went to the fireplace, got the fire going, then rifled through his saddlebags for the food he’d brought. “Beef jerky and apples. It’s not much but it’ll do for tonight and tomorrow.”
“I have the cookies and biscuits Mrs. Norton gave us in my satchel too.”
Anson stopped digging. He’d forgotten all about them. He vaguely remembered the woman handing something to Zadie, but had paid no mind to what. He was too intent on getting her back to the hotel and getting away from her before he did something stupid like kiss her senseless and drag her to bed. “Fine. We can have the biscuits in the morning.”
She gave him a hint of a smile, then watched the fire a moment. “Is this what your cabin is like?”
Anson joined her on the cot and handed her a piece of jerky. “Well … yes.” He felt her stiffen and sensed her disappointment. He didn’t have to look at her to know it was there.
“Oh.”
“Zadie, it’s not as bad as all that. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but you have to remember, I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“I know,” she said, her eyes still on the fire. “I’ll have to make the best of it. I guess I spent too much time dreaming about …”
“Marrying me?”
She smiled. “Yes. Becoming a wife, having a home of my own. What woman doesn’t want those things?”
“Women will want them until the end of time,” he said. “According to my mother, anyway. When she came to this country she and my aunts expected more than what they got as far as material comforts. But after they married, what they had didn’t matter as much as who they were with.”
Zadie turned to him. “Their husbands?”
He scooted a few inches closer. “Yes.”
Her eyes shifted to the fire again. “Are you telling me that you’re more comfortable than the cot in your cabin?”
He laughed and put an arm around her. How could he not after such a quip? “I should hope so. But you’ll have to be the judge of that.”
She studied the arm around her. “You are warm …”
You have no idea, he thought. Maybe he should sleep outside tonight. Or in Wyoming. “And you’re cold.”
“I’m always cold. Even during warm days, I’ve always been like that – ever since I was a little girl.”
He pulled her close. “I’m always warm.”
She looked at him. “Then we should be good for each other.”
He lowered his face a few inches. “We balance each other out, it would seem.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes,” she said, her voice soft.
Anson tried not to moan. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted her until this moment. He wanted all of her, every last beautiful inch. But to do that, he’d have to get to know her better. He wanted the kind of relationship his parents had, joined mind, body and soul like they were. And he knew well they didn’t become that way overnight or without some effort on both sides. No, he’d best keep himself under control for now. And that meant … “I think I’d better bed down with Hamlet …”
“What?” she asked in shock. “You’re going to sleep outside?”
He patted the side of the cot. “We can’t both fit on this.”
“I know, but I thought you’d sleep on the floor next to the fire so you could be warm. There’s no reason to sleep out there.”
Oh yes, there was! He took a deep breath. He’d certainly be warmer if he stayed inside, but could he trust himself? He’d never had this sort of challenge before – Clear Creek wasn’t exactly spilling over with unmarried females. And there were no “soiled doves” around, either – the last one had been chased out before his father and uncles had arrived in town. Clear Creek was as squeaky clean when it came to drinking, gambling and loose women as a place could get.
Anson almost cringed as he realized the situation he’d put himself in. He was a healthy twenty-six-year-old male alone with a beautiful woman for the first time. What in tarnation had he been thinking? Had he been thinking?!
No, he hadn’t. And now he wanted to kiss her something awful, really kiss her, make her swoon! Unfortunately, the only experience he had with kissing before the last twenty-four hours was planting a peck on Permelia White when he was eight. She was fourteen and, in his eyes at the time, the epitome of sophistication. All the more reason to do it! had been Eli Turner’s reasoning. If Eli’s big brother Tom had caught them daring each other to kiss girls, he’d have tanned both their hides.
Now here he was, alone in a cabin with his beautiful bride, and he wanted to sleep outside?! What would Tom Turner say to that? Unfortunately, he wasn’t here to ask …
In a rush, Anson kissed Zadie on the cheek, grabbed his bedroll and left the cabin.
* * *
Zadie sat and stared at the door. Anson was gone. “He didn’t even say goodnight,” she said to herself, pondering what happened. Did she say something wrong? Maybe he went to relieve himself and he was coming back. Or perhaps he just wanted to give her some privacy while she changed into her bed clothes.
Zadie studied her sparse surroundings. She wasn’t sure she wanted to change into anything. What if they had to leave at a moment’s notice? “C’mon, Zadie, stop being such a coward. He’s right outside,” she grumbled.
Then why was she nervous? She talked to herself more when she was, a habit she’d had since she was young. She remembered the time her mother said, “If you’re scared and no one’s around, at least you can listen to yourself say that everything will be all right.”
How many times had she talked herself to sleep? How many days pacing outside her father’s room, wondering if he’d make it through the night? And how many nights did she sit and wonder what she would do once he’d gone on to glory? She was twenty-three, practically an old maid.
Thank Heaven she’d discovered Mrs. Pettigrew’s Bridal Agency. If she hadn’t, she wasn’t sure how she would have fulfilled her father’s instructions: leave Denver as fast as you can. Hard to do when her only living relative hadn’t been seen or heard from the last couple of years, and she hadn’t much money, certainly not enough to start a new life. Now she had none – she’d spent the last of it on the hotel room in Sweetwater Springs.
She gazed at the door. Her rescuer was out there somewhere, bedding down for the night. She smiled. Perhaps he was simply being a gentl
eman. “He’s thoughtful too,” she mused. And without him, she knew she couldn’t survive. Thank Heaven she’d married a good man. Now she had to concentrate on learning how to be a good wife.
“That might take some doing,” Zadie sighed. She stood and got ready for bed. There was no sense worrying about it until tomorrow.
* * *
A knock sounded on the cabin door before sunup. At first Zadie thought something was wrong – the sound had startled her out of a sound sleep. She rolled over and off the cot with a thud. “Ouch!”
Anson burst through the door. “What happened? Are you all right?”
Zadie rubbed her left arm as she sat up. “I might ask you the same question.” She could barely see him silhouetted against the pre-dawn light. “Did something happen?”
“Not to me. You?” He motioned toward her – at least she thought he did. He made some sort of movement.
“Oh!” she said as he deftly pulled her to her feet.
“Sorry if I scared you out of bed.”
Even in the dark, she knew he was smiling. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if I had landed on my feet. What are you doing in here, anyway?”
“It’s time to leave. I have Hamlet saddled and ready.”
Zadie suddenly realized she was in her nightdress, not to mention the temperature of the cabin. “My! Yes, it’s cold, and I need to dress. I’ll only be a moment.”
“Fine,” he said and left again.
Zadie rubbed her arms with her hands to warm herself. She wondered at her lack of propriety just now, not caring a whit she was in her bed clothes in front of Anson. But … they were married. And it was still so dark, what could he have seen?
She found her dress and changed quickly. She hadn’t washed her face last night, or even relieved herself, and her body was letting her know it. Thoughts of cold morning air hitting her in places she’d rather not have it hit engulfed her and she shivered. But there was no help for it – out the door she went. She spied Anson and Hamlet a couple of yards away, then scanned her surroundings.
“There’s a spot out back that you can use,” he called. “It’s not much more than a hole in the ground, but it’ll do.”
She nodded, not caring at the moment if it was just a hole. She needed to get her business over with so she could get ready to leave. She decided last night she would do everything in her power to be a good wife to her husband. His world of ranching was as foreign to her as her old world of socialites, parties and soirees probably was to him. At least she’d had a couple of years to adjust to living with less, a lot less.
But now, after spending the night in a miserable little cabin on the prairie with the knowledge that she’d be living in not much better when they got to their destination, well … a few years ago she’d have gotten on the first train back to Denver. Heck, she might have run back on foot!
Done with her business she returned to the cabin, packed her nightclothes, ran a brush through her hair and braided it. There was no sense putting it up, and still no way to wash her face. Where they were going today, there was no one else to see her anyway, so what did it matter?
Zadie gathered up her satchel and went outside. “I’m ready.”
“Good,” Anson said and handed her a piece of jerky. “Canteen’s on the saddle.”
She watched as he marched to the cabin. “What are you doing?”
“Getting the place ready for the next person. It’ll just take a minute.”
She bit into the jerky and chewed off a piece as best she could. Hamlet nickered softly behind her, and she turned to the horse. “Well, boy, looks like we’re going to be with each other a long time. I hope the rest of your friends like me.”
Hamlet turned his head away and snorted.
Zadie reached over and gave him a pat on the neck. “And to think that a few years ago I wouldn’t have given you a second thought. Now you and your friends are going to feed me.” She looked over her shoulder at the cabin. “And him.” She reached up and scratched the horse between the ears as she’d seen her father do on occasion. “Don’t let us down.”
After a few minutes, Anson returned. “All done. Let’s go.” He was polite but curt, and she wondered if he’d slept well. Zadie rolled her eyes as he helped her into the saddle. Of course he didn’t sleep well, you dolt. He slept outside!
“Did you get some water?” he asked.
“No, not yet.”
“Take some – you haven’t had any for awhile.”
She pulled the canteen from where it hung from the saddle horn and took a drink. “It’s so cold!”
“I just filled it.”
“Where?”
“There’s a stream not far off. Did you want to wash up before we head out? I’m sorry I didn’t ask you before.”
“No, I’m fine.” She didn’t want to be a bother, especially since they were both on the horse and ready to go. If anything, she could take a handful of water from the canteen and splash it on her face later. If she must learn to go without luxuries and survive as a rancher’s wife, she would have to get tough. Even if the thought did give her a case of the shivers.
They rode for hours before stopping for a break. Zadie allowed herself to use some of the water to wash her face as best she could. Unable to help herself, she opened her satchel, found her hair pins and wrapped her braid into a bun, pinning it in place.
“I was wondering if you were going to do that.”
She spun at the sound of Anson’s voice. “I … well, I didn’t think it mattered earlier. Now I do.”
“There was no one to see you but me. Probably won’t be anyone else unless we pass them on the road.” He went to her. “I like it both ways,” he said, brushing a wisp of hair from her face.
The warmth of his finger sent a thrill up her spine and something in her leapt, as if coming to life for the first time. “I would think you’d want your bride to look her best.”
“Yes, but I want my bride to be practical, too. You look fine to me either way.” He reached behind her head and fingered her bound braid. “I want to see it down.”
Zadie sucked in a breath. He was so close, so very close, and her heart fluttered in her chest. She swallowed hard. “I’m sure you will … eventually.”
Anson smiled at her as he removed his hand. “I’m counting on it.” He motioned to Hamlet. “Shall we?”
She gave him a quick nod, then let him give her a leg up. It was a good thing no one else was there to see her – her face was probably crimson. Not from embarrassment, but from the delicious sensation Anson instilled deep within her belly.
He mounted, wrapped both arms around her, took up the reins and gave Hamlet a nudge. “We have a long day ahead of us,” he whispered in her ear. “All day to get to know each other better.”
His warm breath tickled, and she fought the urge to lean against him, losing herself in his embrace. “Yes. Lots to talk about …”
“Uh-huh,” he whispered, this time in her other ear.
A shock of … something raced through her body, and the chill from the morning air was gone. Things were getting rather warm, actually …
“I think we should stop for lunch in an hour or two, don’t you?” he asked, his voice deeper than before.
“Yes, th-that … would be nice.” Good heavens, she was having trouble talking!
“And when we get home tonight …,” he said languidly.
Zadie’s heart began to race. “What? What about tonight?” she said in a panic.
Anson laughed. “You’re a skittish little thing, aren’t you?”
She couldn’t think straight. He had her mind addled with the sound of his voice, his nearness. “I am not – you’re distracting me!”
“Am I?” He wrapped his arms around her tighter and pulled her against him. “Good.”
Zadie wanted to melt into him. He was so warm, so … safe. “Good? Why is that good?”
“You’ll find out when we get home.”
Eight
“We’ll stop for a little bit, then we need to get moving,” he told her as he dismounted.
Cold air hit her back and she shivered again. Too bad it wasn’t from his whispers. The man was like a blanket, and for a moment she missed having his arms around her. “Is there a stream nearby?” she asked absently.
“No. Did you want to wash up?”
“Just my hands, but I’ll get by.”
He smiled at her, then reached into his saddlebags and pulled out more jerky. “Here, eat something. We’ll be home before nightfall, and I can heat a bucket of water for you then if you’d like. I don’t have anything you can use to bathe in, though. I go into Morgan’s Crossing and use the bathhouse.”
Zadie could only stare. Bathhouse? “Are you telling me, I’m to bathe in a public bathhouse?”
Anson looked confused and took some jerky for himself. “Not if you don’t want to. I was doing it because it was just me, and it gave me a reason to go into town now and then.”
“Now and then?” she asked archly.
“A couple of times a week. Compared to some of the miners, I’ve kept myself smelling downright pretty.”
Now she laughed. “Do tell?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll see about getting you something to bathe in so you don’t have to do it in town.”
She sobered. “I appreciate it.” Besides, she couldn’t ask for more. He wasn’t expecting her – he’d gotten used to doing things for himself and no one else. Now she was here and things that worked for him weren’t always going to work for her.