Caleb

by Callie Hutton

  “Just one little drink?” Desiree tilted her head and gave him a slight smile.

  He studied her for a moment. “One.” He turned on his heel and strode to the kitchen. Taking a bottle of whiskey from the shelf over the stove, he poured a measure into a glass.

  “Where’s yours?” she asked as he handed her the drink.

  “I’m not drinking. Like I told you, this isn’t a party, Desiree.”

  The saloon girl took a sip of the whiskey and settled in a chair. “I got a look at your wife when you left the main house. She looks stuck-up.”

  Despite agreeing with her, he felt the ridiculous need to defend Lillian. “She’s not stuck-up. She’s a lady.”

  The breed of woman he’d spent the last ten years of his life avoiding.

  “Oh, yes.” She grinned. “With ladylike sensibilities.”

  He gestured to her glass. “Are you finished, yet, Desiree? Because I want to get you back to Pete’s house.”

  “Caleb Fraser, you’ve only been married less than one day and she’s already turned you into a fuddy-duddy.” She took another sip. “What do your brothers think of their wives?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. We all split up to do our chores and then I came home.”

  “With your wife.” She held up her empty glass. “One more?”

  “No. It’s time I drove you back to Pete’s.” He stood, glaring at her.

  Desiree wiggled her bottom, settling further into the chair. “I think not. I really want another drink.” Then she moved forward and started to rise. “But I can get it myself.”

  He held his hand out. “No.” The last thing he wanted was Desiree wandering around the house. She was bound to make noise enough that Lillian would be out in a flash.

  Once he’d poured her drink, he gazed longingly at the bottle, thinking how a taste of whiskey would go down nice right now. A way to forget the fiasco the last couple of days had been. Then he firmly placed the bottle on the shelf. That way only lay trouble—him and Desiree drunk.

  No.

  When he returned to the main room, Desiree had removed her coat and shoes and sat comfortably in the chair, her feet tucked under her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What?”

  “I’m getting ready to drive you back. Why did you take your coat off?”

  “I’m getting warmer. The whiskey is working.” She reached out and took the glass from his hand. “Thank you.”

  “I’m serious, Desiree. Finish that drink up. It’s time to go.”

  “You really are starting to make me mad, Caleb Fraser. I came out here for some fun and to spend time together since you’ve been bugging me for weeks to do just that. Now I find myself banished to your foreman’s cottage like I did something wrong. I’m hidden away, all alone, my meals are brought to me like I’m some kind of prisoner. You didn’t even invite me to your wedding.” She stuck her lower lip out in a pout that she must have thought looked cute, but in his state it only made her appear like a spoiled child.

  “Are you crazy? I couldn’t have you at my wedding. My brothers would have beat the hell out of me. Mama would have been scandalized.”

  She jumped up and slammed her fists on her hips. “Is that what y’all think of me? That I’m some kind of scandal? To be pushed aside and hidden away?” She marched forward and stabbed him in the chest. “I’ll have you know I’m a good girl, Caleb. I don’t climb into just anyone’s bed. I have standards, and don’t sleep with any man I haven’t known for at least a few weeks.”

  He glanced at the bedroom door. “Keep your voice down, Desiree.”

  “I have to use the privy.”

  Caleb groaned. “Dammit. Can’t you wait until you go back?”

  “No, I can’t. I need to use the privy now.” She stuck her chin in the air.

  How did he ever get himself in these kinds of messes? He’d been hankering after Desiree for weeks and now that he had her here, he felt nothing but annoyance. Of course, when he’d invited her for a few nights of fun, he hadn’t planned on a threesome. Especially with a stiff-necked virgin.

  “All right. Put your coat on. Once you use the privy, I’m driving you back.”

  She shrugged into her coat and followed him outside.

  Bright moonlight reflecting on the snow still lit the area like midday. Desiree headed to the privy behind the house and he moved toward his small stable to prepare the horse and sleigh. “I’ll hitch up the horse. When you’re done, come to the front of the house.”

  Caleb ran his palm down the horse’s velvety nose. “Sorry, old boy. One more trip and you can settle in for the night.”

  His body dragged with fatigue as he led the vehicle to the front of the house. When he arrived, Desiree was nowhere in sight, so arms crossed, he leaned against the sleigh and waited.

  After about ten minutes, he grew concerned that she had fallen asleep. His feet crunched on the snow as he made his way to the facility.

  “Desiree?” He tapped softly on the door.

  Nothing.

  Where the devil was she? He tapped again. “Desiree? You all right?”

  Still no sounds. Hoping he wouldn’t embarrass the two of them, he edged the door open. “Desiree?”

  The tiny room was empty. What the hell?

  He hurried back to the house. The woman was settled in the chair once more with another full glass of whiskey.

  “I thought you had to use the privy?”

  “I did. I got tired of waiting for you, so I came back inside. It’s cold out there.”

  “No fooling.” He stomped his feet and rubbed his hands together. Gesturing with his head toward the door, he said, “Let’s go.”

  “Geez, Caleb, can’t a girl even finish her drink? You sure are anxious to be rid of me.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “This is absolutely the last one. I mean it, Desiree.”

  “All right. But sit down while I finish it. You’re making me nervous standing over me like that.”

  Caleb sat in another chair, stretching his long legs in front of him, arms folded over his chest, his eyes never leaving her glass.

  After a few attempts to start a conversation to no avail, Desiree stood. “Well since my company is obviously not wanted, you can drive me back to Pete’s house now.”

  Caleb hopped up and strode to the front door.

  “Boy, you sure know how to insult a girl.” She sashayed out the door he held open for her.

  Once she hit the snow, she stumbled a few times, her arms flailing as she tried to keep her balance. “You have to help me, Caleb. I think I’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

  He scooped her up and deposited her into the sleigh. Once settled alongside her, he flicked his wrist, and the horse started off.

  Desiree leaned her head back and stared at the sky. “Isn’t it bootiful? Look at all dem stars. So purty.” She sighed.

  Caleb jumped as she burst into song, loud enough to wake the mountains. “Desiree! For God’s sake, you’ll rouse the whole neighborhood.”

  She turned her face toward him and stuck out her tongue. “Yes, Caleb Fraser. Your stuck-in-the-mud wife has turned you into an old fuddy duddy.” She didn’t continue singing, but she hummed rather loudly.

  After practically carrying Desiree to Pete’s front door, he returned to his house. He stripped off his coat, hat and gloves, and settled once again in front of the fireplace.

  He’d barely closed his eyes when the sounds of rattling came from the kitchen. He eased his burning eyes open and watched as his still completely dressed wife banged pots and pans around, obviously doing one of her wifely duties. Not the one he was interested in, but maybe a hot breakfast would get him through the day.

  Chapter Three

  Should she apologize to Caleb for throwing him out of his own bedroom? It was a comment on his character that he hadn’t tossed her out into the snow. After all, he and his brothers had every right to be angry at what Mrs. Fraser had
done to them.

  Every time she thought of the humiliation she and the other women had suffered when they’d realized the four brothers had no idea they were to be married, she got mad all over again. The other women hadn’t been too free with the reasons they had for agreeing to marry strangers, so she assumed each one of them had a story similar to hers.

  She might be reluctant to have her new husband in her bed, but she was a good cook. The years she’d spent taking care of herself and her sister had honed household skills with which she planned to win over her husband. Hopefully that would make up for her reluctance to allow him his marital rights.

  After checking the scant pantry, she decided to fix flapjacks and bacon. If she was going to run his home, she would need to get into town as soon as the pass cleared and stock up on necessaries.

  Starting with coffee was always a good idea. In her experience most men preferred a strong cup of coffee first thing in the morning. She ladled out the coffee beans into the pot and added sufficient water. She blew on the embers in the stove from banking the night before and added coal to get the stove ready to cook.

  “Good morning.” Caleb’s voice behind her made her jump.

  “Goodness. You startled me.” She pressed her hand to her chest.

  The man looked terrible, as if he hadn’t slept a wink all night. Even in his disheveled state, she could still understand his popularity with the ladies. His dark blond hair fell over his forehead, his deep blue eyes mesmerizing her. Tightened lips suggested he was still annoyed at having been relegated to the main room. There would be no point in asking him if he’d slept well, since the evidence was there on his face.

  “I’m making breakfast. I didn’t find much in the way of food. But I can whip up some bacon and flapjacks.”

  “Most times I eat at the bunkhouse with the men. I’m not much of a cook, and it was just easier that way.” He leaned one broad shoulder against the doorframe, his sleepy, little boy look wreaking havoc with her nerves. She didn’t want to be attracted to this man. She still had to find a way to break the news of her less than pure state before she allowed him any liberties.

  “I enjoy cooking, and do it quite well. But if I’m going to fix our meals here, I will need to do an inventory of your supplies and prepare a list of what I need.”

  “Now that it’s stopped snowing, the pass should be opened up in a few days. I can take you into town and introduce you to Patience Farmer. She and her husband, Nick own the mercantile. I have an account with them. You can just add to my bill, and I pay at the end of each month.”

  Lillian nodded and turned back to her work.

  “I’ll get washed up and dressed while you do that.” He headed to the bedroom and she heaved a sigh of relief. At least they weren’t squabbling like a couple of urchins this morning.

  If only he had been the one who’d sent for her. She could imagine a nice life with Caleb. He had a comfortable house that with a little bit of money and effort could be quite cozy.

  His handsome face and strong rancher’s body made her toes curl with the way he looked at her every once in a while. Most likely how he looked at all women, she reminded herself. He was a ladies man, and it would behoove her to remember that. She needed to stay far away from him until she resolved the dilemma of how to tell him about her missing virginity.

  She set the table with mix-matched dishes and cups. By the time he joined her in the kitchen, she had a large stack of flapjacks, a plate of crisp bacon, molasses, and butter on the table. She poured two cups of coffee and set the pot back on the stove.

  After saying the blessing, which, thankfully, Caleb hadn’t scoffed at, they dug into the food.

  Lillian swallowed a mouthful of flapjacks. “Do you often talk in your sleep?”

  “Nah. I never talk in my sleep.”

  She stopped the movement of her hand as it headed toward her mouth with a bit of bacon. “You told me last night you were talking in your sleep.”

  A slight flush rose to his cheeks. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I do once in a while. Not too often, though.” After that pronouncement, he continued to shovel food into his mouth, not meeting her eyes.

  “You look like hell, big brother.” Ethan greeted Caleb as he walked the horse through the doors of the main stable. “Appears to be you had a big night.” He grinned and punched Caleb on the arm.

  “Cut it out,” Caleb snarled.

  “You would think after the night you had, you’d be in a better mood,” Ethan groused.

  “Caleb!” Gideon strode up to him. “A word, please.” He turned on his heel and stormed to the end of the stable. What the hell was wrong with the preacher this morning? It seemed like no one was having a good morning.

  “What?” Caleb said, his hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans.

  “I saw you.”

  “Saw me what?”

  Gideon leaned forward, right in Caleb’s face. “I saw you carry Desiree into Pete’s house in the early hours this morning.”

  Damn. Leave it to the preacher to see him. What the hell was he doing up himself in the middle of the night? Praying?

  He probably should defend himself, but it galled him to explain to his younger brother that nothing went on between him and Desiree. Up until a few days ago, his life had been his own. Now he’d been hog-tied to a woman who threw him out of his own bedroom on his wedding night, no less. His holier than thou brother thought it his place to spy on him, and dammit, he was tired to the bone. His very satisfying, perfect, life had collapsed.

  “I can’t believe you would disrespect your wife like that by dallying with a tavern girl right under your roof.” Gideon shook his head. “I really thought better of you, Caleb.”

  Caleb rocked back on his heels. “Pull your goddamn head out of the clouds and get off your knees, Gideon. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Then explain it to me. I know what I saw.”

  “I don’t care what you saw. Keep your nose out of my business. I don’t answer to you.” He turned to walk away.

  “You will never have a good marriage if you start off this way, Caleb.” He reached out and clasped his arm to stop him. “I just want all of us to be happy, and I can guarantee that’s no way to begin a marriage.”

  Caleb shook off his brother’s arm. “I don’t need lectures from you. Just keep your advice and observations to yourself. Take care of your own wife.”

  By mid-afternoon, when they’d finished the chores they were able to do with the snow still piled up, Caleb returned to his house. He walked through the front door an immediately fell over a table, landing on his knees. “What the hell?”

  “Stop cussing.” His wife stood in the middle of the room, an apron over her dress, a rag of some sort tied around her head, and a dripping wet cloth in her hand. If he hadn’t recognized the woman who’d turned his life upside down, he would have sworn he was in someone else’s house.

  All the furniture was in different spots. A pile of junk sat in the middle of the floor. “What are you doing, woman?”

  “This place was a pigpen. I’ll bet your barn is cleaner than this house was.” She gestured to the pile. “Most of that stuff can be thrown away.”

  “Thrown away?” He moved to the pile and withdrew a large horseshoe. “This is my lucky horseshoe. I’m not throwing that away.” He leaned down and picked up another item. “And this. This is the softest shirt I own.”

  She sniffed. “There are holes in each elbow, wide enough that can’t be patched, and there are two buttons missing. It’s a rag.”

  “Would you look at this?” He held up a pair of well-worn boots. “These are my favorite fishing boots. I always catch a shitload of fish—“

  “Stop cussing—“

  “—when I wear these.”

  They glared at each other, Lillian with a determined look on her face, Caleb juggling his treasures in his arms. Lord, the woman would try the patience of a saint. “You have no authority to re-arrange my house
or decide what will be thrown away.” He looked around the main room. “Who gave you permission to move my furniture around?”

  She raised her chin. “Excuse me, Mr. Fraser, but I was of the opinion that once a man married, the house became his wife’s home as well.”

  “You are also of the opinion that a healthy woman with two strong legs needed to be carried over the doorstep of that house because that’s just the way it is.” He dropped the items in his arms on a chair and returned to the pile, removing things he had no intention of parting with.

  “I will not live in a dirty house.”

  “Then clean the house, but don’t throw any of my belongings away. I love every single thing in this house.” Realizing what he’d just said, he flushed, hoping Lillian didn’t assume he meant he loved her. Hell, he could barely tolerate her.

  “Even this?” She held up a dead mouse by its tail. “And what warm memory does this thing bring back?”

  Later that night, when the kitchen had been cleaned up, and she and Caleb had mumbled their good nights before she handed him a pillow and blanket, Lillian rolled over in the large bed in the middle of the bedroom. Resting on her back, she crossed her arms over her middle and studied the crack in the ceiling. This marriage had certainly gotten off to a bad start. She really had to learn to control her tongue. No man liked a woman who behaved like a shrew.

  She felt so darn anxious about her future with Caleb making it quite clear from the get-go that he hadn’t sent for her, didn’t want her, and would love to see her pack up and leave. She didn’t want to hand him a good reason to do just that.

  If she had to leave here, she had no idea where she would go, or what she would do. Her only sister, Patty, lived in a tiny house in Arizona with her husband, her husband’s mother, and four children. The walls of their small abode burst with all the people and the children’s pets.

  Lillian had spent the last of her meager savings and the sale of her little house on a new coat, a few new dresses, boots, warm clothing, and underthings, so she wouldn’t arrive on her new husband’s doorstep looking like a ragamuffin. At this rate, with all their bickering, she would never be able to tell him his stiff-necked virginal wife wasn’t a virgin. Her plan had been to have him, if not loving her, at least feeling some sort of affection so he wouldn’t send her back to Illinois.