Free to Roam

by Leah Atwood

  Chapter 6

  The sun still hid in the night when Clint awoke. Only a sliver of moonlight lit the room, but he didn’t have to look to know that Bess wasn’t in bed. Two weeks into their marriage and he’d yet to get up before her. He couldn’t figure out how she did it, especially because every morning he woke up a few minutes earlier trying to beat her downstairs.

  He knew why she did it—she was skittish about sharing a bed with him, even with maintaining their separate sides. While he understood, at the same time, it also puzzled him. It was her idea to share the room when there were three other beds in the house he would have taken willingly.

  If they didn’t get along so well any other time, he could pass it off as jitters or her not liking him. Except, outside the bedroom they spoke freely, and he dared say, had become friends. But in fourteen days, they’d not spoken a single word to each other within the confines of their room. Every single night, she pretended to be asleep already when he came into the room.

  He knew she was still awake because sometimes she’d slip and automatically look toward the door when he came in, but then she’d roll back over and not say a word. He’d meant what he said about not pressing for more, but he did wish their friendship didn’t pause at night.

  I reckon I ought to be grateful that we get along so well during the day. For that he was grateful because he’d know some couples who’d been married for reasons other than love, and they were miserable. Some had even parted ways.

  That wasn’t an end he wanted to meet with Bess. Every day that passed, he was more certain of that. He wanted her in his life, and maybe one day, they could have a real marriage if she so chose.

  The moonlight turned to sunlight, and Clint realized he’d been reflecting too long. He should have been out of bed a good half hour ago. Swinging his legs over the bed, he reached for his trousers, then pulled them on. Once he was dressed and ready for the day, he made his way downstairs.

  There was something he had to tell Bess, and he prayed it wouldn’t upset her, or worse, delight her. First, he would eat.

  The meaty smell of bacon and the pops and hisses of it frying teased his senses and led the way to the kitchen. Bess stood at the stove, an apron tied at her waist.

  She turned to face him. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.”

  Bess brought him a steaming cup of coffee, then prepared a plate for him and set it down in front of where he sat. “Here you go. The biscuits will be another minute.”

  As she began to walk away, he reached out and encircled her wrist with his fingers. “Sit down, please. Eat breakfast with me.”

  “There’s still work to be done.” Although she protested, she didn’t pull away.

  “Everyone’s entitled to a break, and you’re not here to wait on me all the time. Though I appreciate all you do,” he added. “But I’d love to share our meal this morning.”

  A curious expression appeared on her face. Hope? Wistfulness? He didn’t know.

  “Let me grab the biscuits and then I will.”

  Her concession quickened his heart rate. Bess was a hard worker, almost to the point of fanatical like she had something to prove, and Clint wanted to make her life easier.

  Tugging her arm free, she gave him a smile before returning to the stove. She pulled the biscuits from the oven then fixed a plate for herself.

  “What are your plans for today?” she asked after she’d sat down.

  He fought the instinct to scrunch his face, dreading telling her. “Nate and I are riding out to check on the south herd and repair the fence along the way.”

  “Will you be back for dinner or should I only count on you for supper?”

  “Neither.” He laid a slice of bacon back down on the plate. “We’ll be staying at the line shack tonight.”

  “Oh.” Her face paled, and she blinked several times. She grabbed her plate and stood.

  “I don’t have to go. One of the other men can go with Nate.” He didn’t like the fear in her eyes, though he didn’t know the cause of it.

  At least she didn’t look relieved that he’d be gone tonight. It was a fear he’d been afraid to admit.

  “No, you should go and set a good example.”

  “I’m sorry if I upset you.” He made a point of looking at her plate. “Please sit back down and finish. You’ve barely eaten.”

  “I don’t have much of an appetite.” She turned her back and began cleaning the dishes. “Should I pack some food?” she asked after several minutes.

  “No, Cook is taking care of that.” And thank goodness for Cook. Without him, Bess would probably insist on cooking for all the men on top of the myriad of chores she accomplished every day.

  Clint finished the rest of his meal although his appetite had vanished as well. He carried his empty plate and set it in the wash basin. His hand found its way to her shoulder.

  She turned, placing herself within the circle of his bent arm. It was an inadvertent consequence of her pivoting, he was sure, and not because she wanted to be close to him. Either way, he couldn’t deny the pleasure he felt, having her so near.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? You seem upset about me leaving for the night.”

  “I’m sure. All part of being a rancher’s wife right?” She wouldn’t look at him.

  “Yes.”

  “Shorty will be nearby all day if you need him.”

  “I’ll be fine, but thank you for letting me know.” Her hands rubbed against the grease-spotted apron.

  “Can I take care of anything for you before I leave?” His fingers curled to give her a gentle squeeze.

  “No.” She glanced up briefly, long enough for him to see the fear in her eyes, causing him to doubt his decision. What would it take for her to confide in him?

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Releasing her shoulder, he took a single step backward and sighed.

  “Okay.”

  Her one-word answers drove him mad. What was going on in that pretty head of hers? Not for the first time, he wished he better understood women. On impulse, he bent his head and brushed a soft kiss on her cheeks. Their first kiss.

  She didn’t slap him for taking liberties, so that had to count for something. Hope sprung new.

  Five hours later, Clint and Nate were far along the trail. They’d stopped a few times to repair broken portions of the fence, but they still hadn’t spotted the south herd.

  Frigid air broke the barrier of his leather gloves, biting his hands with coldness. He wore a bandana over his face to protect his face, but it did little good. This was one of the few times he didn’t love being a rancher.

  “I’m surprised Bess didn’t mind you being gone overnight.” Atop a gelding, Nate rode near him.

  “Last night, I didn’t get in until late and forgot to tell her. When I did this morning, she didn’t seem too happy about it, but when I offered to stay home, she told me to go.”

  “Brave woman, she is.” Nate came closer. “I don’t know too many women who’d willingly stay in a house alone overnight after it had been broken into, and I can’t say I’d rightly blame them.”

  Clint jerked his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t know?” Nate looked at him wide-eyed. “The night before you two got hitched, she had an intruder. Made it all the way up to her bedroom.”

  Anger warmed his blood. “They didn’t hurt her, did they?”

  “No. The person ran off when she screamed.”

  Everything made sense now. The fear in her eyes. The insistence he slept in the same bedroom. Her skittishness.

  “Did anyone find the man?”

  Nate frowned. “Several of us went after him. He was a drifter who thought the Bar S would be an easy target to rob.”

  “What happened to him?” He didn’t recollect anyone being brought to jail that night, and he would have known if there had been.

  “Killed after he shot at us. Lucky for us, his aim was bad.”r />
  “Can you handle the rest on your own?” All Clint could think about was getting back to the house and Bess.

  “I’ve done it alone many times.” Nate winked.

  “I have to go.” He didn’t wait for a response before he turned his mare and galloped to the house.

  Chapter 7

  Night fell earlier than usual, or so it seemed to Bess. She’d spent the entire day cleaning and scrubbing, anything she could to keep her mind occupied. The night loomed ahead, and she didn’t look forward to being alone. Why hadn’t she just asked Clint to stay? He’d even offered.

  Because you’re afraid of pushing him away. She knew she wasn’t pretty, but maybe if she tried her best to please him, he wouldn’t stray like Jonathan had. Except, she knew Clint never would. Her husband had more integrity in one arm than her ex-fiancé could ever possess.

  Still, those niggling doubts wouldn’t leave her alone. She and Clint had only been married for two weeks, but she’d come to depend on him. It had taken a kiss to make her realize that. When he was home, she felt safe and secure. She wasn’t lonely, and she didn’t think about Jonathan. Actually, she’d hardly given Jonathan a thought until today, when she examined why she tried so hard to please Clint.

  Her hand rose and pressed against the spot on her cheek where Clint had kissed her. It was sweet and innocent but held the promise of so much more. Could he be developing feelings for her as well? She wanted to believe it, now that she’d been honest with herself about what she felt for him.

  She went to the kitchen to boil some water for tea. Noise from the front of the house drifted through the house and spooked her. A gusty breeze outside created more noise, blowing leaves, branches and any loose items left outside.

  Taking deep breaths, she told herself she would not be a victim to fear. God was with her and would look after her.

  When she heard the door open seconds later, all convictions fell by the wayside. Any of the ranch hands would know better than to barge in without knocking first. Why, oh why, had she not latched the door? Nate had installed it the day she’d gone to town and married Clint. It had become a habit, but she’d forgotten to lower it after she’d dumped out the murky mop water.

  She grabbed a cast iron skillet, the only weapon she had at her disposal. To keep her hands from trembling, she gripped the handle tightly with both hands. She raised it above her head, to a position ready to strike the intruder.

  She was sure her heart would leap directly out of her body. Afraid to move, she stayed where she was, hoping for an element of surprise if the intruder came her way.

  “Bess, are you here? It’s me, I came home.”

  Relief washed over her entire body. There was no intruder, only her husband. She placed the skillet back on the counter and ran to Clint. Unrestrained, she threw her arms around his neck.

  “That’s a welcome I wouldn’t mind coming home to everyday.” His breath tickled her cheek, the warmth a stark contrast to the coldness of his skin.

  “I’m so glad you came home.”

  “I had to.” He wrapped his arms around her waist.

  She jerked away from him. “What are you doing home anyway? You scared me horribly. I thought you were someone breaking in.”

  Biting her lip, she refrained from saying more. She wasn’t angry at him, but the built up emotion and energy from anticipating an intruder spent itself in fury.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the intruder?” He wouldn’t let her move far and gently brought her back to him.

  His tender touch and concerned gaze calmed her. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want you to think less of me for being so afraid.”

  “It’s a natural reaction.” His head lowered. Their lips weren’t far apart.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m sorry I caused you more fear.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, unencumbered by any pins or ribbons. “You’re beautiful.”

  “No, I’m not.” She squeezed shut her eyes. “If I were, Jonathan wouldn’t have strayed.”

  “Who’s Jonathan?” A tinge of jealousy touched his tone.

  “My ex-fiancé. He left me for my friend.” When she said it, none of the usual pain accompanied the words.

  “Look at me.” He tipped her chin, bringing their mouths closer yet. “Jonathan must be a fool, but his loss is my gain.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Bess,” he interrupted. “Forget Jonathan.”

  Losing herself in Clint’s kiss, she did just that.

  Chapter 8

  Sun burst through the window when Clint awoke two days before Christmas. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so late. Rolling over, he saw Bess asleep beside him. A broad grin spread across his face.

  She slept with a peaceful smile, so different from that of the straight line lips that had decorated her sleeping face until the last week. Her hair spread over the pillow, and he gave in to the urge to touch the tresses. They were every bit as silky as they appeared.

  Bess stirred in her sleep, but didn’t awaken. Clint knew if she slept this late, she must be tired, and he had no inclination to wake her. Instead, he took the time to watch her.

  He could no longer deny the truth. He was in love with her. It was something he hadn’t expected three weeks ago, but it hit him something fierce. Looking back at all the events in his life, he came to realize they had all led him here.

  To Bess. To a marriage with her.

  Even his arrest. Had he not gotten in trouble for sheltering his brothers, he wouldn’t have been thrown in jail, and then invited to participate in the Freedom Brides program. With that realization, he lost much of the bitterness toward his brothers. He’d not heard from them since he’d been arrested, but he prayed for their safety and that they’d mend their ways.

  Clint had high hopes for his future with Bess. He felt certain she was falling in love with him, as he had with her. They often shared kisses now, and their conversations took on a deeper level. At night, she no longer pretended to be asleep when he entered the room. A few nights, they’d even lain in bed, albeit still on their separate sides, and talked well into the night.

  An idea came to him. Maybe it was too soon, but it felt right. He’d talk to Sawyer, one of the Freedom Bride participants and now a pastor, about it when he went to town.

  Rolling over, Bess’s eyes fluttered. When she saw him, she smiled.

  “Good morning.” Her voice held the lazy drawl of sleepiness.

  “Good morning.” He gave her a few seconds to finish waking up. “Would you like to go into town today?”

  She sat up in bed. “I’d love to. Last night I was thinking I didn’t get any Christmas presents for Nate, and he’s been so helpful, I want him to know we appreciate him.”

  “That’s a fine idea.”

  “And all the other men, also. Maybe a new pair of gloves for each of them.” Her eyes came alive with excitement.

  Her thoughtfulness and caring attitude tugged at his heart. “They’ll appreciate that, especially with winter moving in.”

  “When can we leave?”

  “Is an hour enough time to prepare?”

  Her lips twisted as she thought. “If you don’t mind leftover biscuits with jam for breakfast.”

  “I’ll never turn down your biscuits.” He winked. “How about we have dinner in town?”

  “I’ll get spoiled and not want to cook tomorrow.”

  “You deserve a break.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll start the coffee before I go tell Nate we’ll be gone today. I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour.”

  After getting dressed, he found Nate, gave him a small list of instructions for the day, then hitched the team to the wagon. When he returned to the house forty-five minutes later, Bess was all ready to leave.

  She handed him a sheet of paper. “I made a list of items to purchase from the mercantile. Can you see if there’s anything I should add?”

  Scanning th
e list, it appeared complete. “Looks good to me, but I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”

  He crooked his elbow, and Bess slid her arm through the open space. After they walked to the wagon, Clint lifted her onto the bench in front. She unfolded the blanket kept in the contraption for cold weather and spread it over her lap.

  A few snowflakes fell as they traveled into Mucksbe, but not enough to accumulate. Clint scanned the sky, looking for any ominous signs they should turn back. He concluded they weren’t in any danger, but wouldn’t be surprised if several inches came down tomorrow.

  Mucksbe was full of activity. Everyone from all the surrounding area must have come in today to finish last minute Christmas shopping. The streets were clogged with carriages and wagons, and there was no place to park near the mercantile.

  Clint halted the team, hurried to assist Bess, then drove the wagon to the livery.

  Cord McGraw, the first man to marry as part of the Freedom Brides program, greeted him with a broad smile. “Good to see you. I heard you finally broke free.”

  “Yes, I did.” Laughing, Clint handed him a few coins. “We’ll be back for the wagon this evening.”

  “It will be here waiting, but my shift ends at two.” Cord took the money. “How’s married life treating you?”

  “No complaints here. Bess is something special.”

  “So is Josie.” A grin flashed on Cord’s face. “I’m not so sorry anymore for spending that time in jail.”

  “I just had that same thought this morning.”

  Cord chuckled. “Never thought either of us would say that. Any news on Trey?”

  “Not that I’ve heard.”

  “I feel sorry for the kid.” Cord shook his head. “Anyway, you take care. Merry Christmas if I don’t see you before.”

  “Same to you.”

  Clint left the livery and walked to the church. The doors were locked, so he knocked. Waited. No one answered. Was that a sign his idea wasn’t meant to be today? He rapped a second time. There was fumbling on the other side and the door opened seconds later.