by Joyce Alec
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Those words hit him hard, his questions about his new wife evaporating in an instant. She looked at him with clear expectation, waiting for him to do just what the pastor said.
It was too close, too personal. He couldn’t touch his lips to hers, not when he’d promised her there would be nothing of the kind between them. If he kissed her now, then he might remember what it felt like, and in his dark moments, long for it again. He wasn’t about to fall into that trap, not for the second time.
Hearing the pastor let out a long breath, clearly getting rather annoyed with Stephen for taking up so much of his time, Stephen leaned forward and brushed his lips against her soft cheek, one hand on her waist. He could feel her tensing as he did so, her body going almost rigid. There was no jerking of his heart, no warmth rushing into his veins, just a calm acceptance that he was now a married man. Married to a woman who would share his home and his life, but not his heart.
When he stepped back, he expected to see something like confusion or even upset on his bride’s face. Much to his surprise, she looked rather relieved. Her eyes were on the pastor as he finished, a small smile settling on her face as she slowly began to relax.
“Right then, I expect we’ll see you both again on Sunday,” the pastor said, sticking out his hand and shaking Hazel’s one firmly. “Wonderful to have you join our little town, Mrs. Grant.”
Hazel paused, her smile fading. “Just ‘Hazel’ will be fine, pastor. I’m not one for formal titles.”
The pastor chuckled, an understanding look on his face. “It’ll all take a bit of getting used to, Hazel, but it’ll come in time. I’m sure Stephen here will make certain you’ve got everything you need to settle in.” He threw Stephen a sharp look, as though warning him that he himself would be keeping a firm eye on Stephen’s new bride. “And, when you come back on Sunday, I’m sure Stephen will be delighted to have you meet some of our townsfolk. The women have a quilting circle that meets once a week, in the evenings.”
“She won’t be able to join that,” Stephen interrupted gruffly. “The ranch is going to be busy and—”
“That sounds wonderful, Pastor,” Hazel said loudly, stepping a little in front of him. “I’d love to join the quilting circle. Everyone needs friends, don’t they? That sounds like a wonderful way to make some new ones of my own.”
A jagged anger sliced through Stephen’s heart, his hands clenching as the pastor smiled and agreed with Hazel, not questioning her over her direct disagreement with her husband. As far as Stephen was concerned, his wife’s place was on the ranch, not galivanting all about town for something as foolish as the quilting circle. Besides, she wasn’t going to need friends, not when she had to take care of him and their home.
“We’d best be going,” he said, putting one hand on his wife’s arm. “The wagon will be ready to go by now, and I’m sure you’re going to want to get home and get rested before you start on dinner.”
Hazel turned around slowly, her eyes fixed on his. “Dinner?” she repeated, looking at him in confusion. “You want me to make dinner the first night I’ve come to live with you?”
Stephen shrugged, not understanding her frustration. “Sure. I mean, that’s what wives do.”
The pastor stepped forward, putting himself directly between them both. “I know that Mrs. Lawrence makes the most delicious pies you’ve ever tasted—meat pies and apple pies,” he said quietly, looking over at Hazel. “Why not get yourself a couple?”
Hazel lifted her chin, looking over at Stephen with a chill in her gaze. “That sounds just wonderful, Pastor,” she replied, her lips thinning as she glared at Stephen. “After all, I’m going to need a little time to get myself settled in and rested after what was a rather long journey.”
“Of course,” the pastor agreed, turning his own gaze onto Stephen. “You’re both going to need to start looking out for each other, now that you’re married. And that starts with pies for dinner, so your wife doesn’t have to cook.”
A flush of heat rippled up Stephen’s chest and into his face, making him fully aware of just how he’d failed, yet again.
“Sure thing,” he muttered, picking up his hat and jamming it on his head. “Thank you, Pastor. Come on, Hazel. Time to go home.”
9
Hazel tried her best to hide her nerves as Stephen lifted her down from the wagon. There was something terrifying about leaning into his arms, feeling the strength of them as she held onto him tightly. The moment her feet hit the ground, she backed away, desperate for him to drop his hands from her waist.
Thankfully, he seemed just as unwilling to hold onto her, which Hazel couldn’t help but be relieved about. Giving him a tight smile, she looked over his shoulder towards the house, taking in the large, stone chimney.
“This here is our home,” Stephen said, lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “The cabin over there is where Joe and Ned sleep, and there’s a creek running just behind the house.”
“Joe and Ned?” Hazel repeated, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned them before. “Are they your brothers?”
He snorted and shook his head. “I ain’t got no brothers,” he replied, with a wry smile. “Got a sister though. She’s married and moved away. My parents are gone, and I’m the only one left in these parts. Ned and Joe work for me. They get food and a place to sleep, with a small monetary sum to go along with it.”
Hazel nodded, trying to ignore the small curl of fear in her belly at the thought of being so close to three different men. “They don’t come in the house?”
Stephen frowned, looking at her with a slightly puzzled expression. “No, they don’t. That place is mine and no one else’s. A man has gotta have respect from his workers. So, no, they don’t come into my property. Not unless I invite them.”
Letting out a long breath, Hazel tried to smile despite the worry climbing all through her. “I understand.”
He paused, his eyes on hers. “You don’t have to worry about them, Hazel.”
Hating that her fear was so transparent, Hazel lifted her chin and held his gaze. “I ain’t afraid.”
Tilting his head, Stephen looked back at her, something flickering in his eyes. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
Turning around so that she didn’t have to face him any longer, Hazel took in her new home.
“There’s the barn, and that there is the corral,” he continued, pointing towards the large fenced area just across from the house. “The cattle are out on the plains at the moment, so I head on out there most days.”
Hazel nodded, her hands on her hips. “I can see you’ve got a snubbing post there,” she said, walking a little closer to the corral. “Do you tame horses too?”
The surprise on his face told her that he hadn’t been expecting her to notice something like that.
“Sure do,” he said, with a small smile. “I don’t take them from the plains—those beasts are meant to be free—but I take the ones that no one else has the time for. The ones who are stubborn and determined.” He lifted one eyebrow and smiled at Hazel, his whole appearance changing in that moment. “They usually come around in the end.”
Hazel’s stomach tightened, making it hard to breathe. Stephen’s expression had brightened entirely, changing from a sullen, frustrated man to one who looked as though he had every happiness in the world right at his feet. The smile touched his eyes, making his green eyes almost sparkle in the sunshine. She couldn’t look away.
“I didn’t know you knew much about horses,” he continued, as they walked towards the corral. “I’m guessing you know how to ride, but apart from that—”
“My brother-in-law owns a ranch,” Hazel explained, as she leaned on the corral fence. “He breaks horses in sometimes. I’ve watched him do it.” A small smile touched her mouth as she saw the two horses in the corral begin to come towards them, evidently looking for something to eat. “They’re beautiful,” she murmured, as a small grey mare came towar
ds her, whinnying gently.
“My goodness,” Stephen whispered, as Hazel held out her hand to the mare. “Now ain’t that something.”
Confused, Hazel looked over at him, taking the proffered sugar cube he held out to her.
“I keep a few of these in my pocket most of the time,” he explained, as she gave it to the mare. “But that mare there, she is one of the shyest creatures I’ve ever known.”
“Shy?” Hazel laughed, making the mare dance away for a moment. “I wouldn’t say she’s shy.” She smiled gently, as the mare let her stroke her quivering neck for a moment, before snuffling for more sugar.
Stephen cleared his throat, still evidently rather surprised. “That’s just what I mean, Hazel,” he said quietly. “She’s never come near me the way she’s approached you. She runs away from me most of the time, and it’s difficult even getting near her!”
“Maybe she and I share a kindred spirit,” Hazel murmured, as the horse came a few steps closer. “What’s her name?”
He shrugged. “She ain’t got one.” Stepping away from her, he paused for a moment. “How abouts you name her for me? I’ll get the rest of the luggage inside. Come in when you’re ready.”
Hazel didn’t look behind her as Stephen moved away, her heart filled with a small, flickering happiness that hid all her concerns and worries for a moment. The mare seemed to understand her sense of being a little afraid, which was maybe why she was so willing to come close to Hazel.
“We’re going to get along just fine,” Hazel whispered, as the mare sniffed her hand again before turning away when she didn’t find any more sugar. “I’m not sure what to call you yet, but I’ll think of a good name, don’t worry.” She smiled to herself, as she leaned on the fence, watching the two horses walk together to the other side of the corral.
Turning around, she took in her new home. It was bigger than she had expected, with a large barn to one side and her house on the other. The news that there were two other men living beside the house had been something of a shock, making her wonder whether or not she’d really be safe when Stephen went out to the cattle every day. Of course, most likely, they’d go out with Stephen too, but she still didn’t like the idea of being there alone.
Although it didn’t look like she’d have much of a choice.
Swallowing the worry that began to rise in her again, Hazel made her way back up to the house, aware that Stephen was busy putting the horse and wagon into the barn. She’d have a few minutes to herself to take in her new home.
Climbing the porch steps, Hazel paused for a moment, her hand on the door latch. This was it. Finally, this place was to be her home, a place she could make her own. It was going to take a lot of work, but in time, Hazel was sure it would feel like home. Just so long as Stephen was good-natured, she was quite sure it wouldn’t be too long until she settled in.
Taking in a deep breath, Hazel opened the door and stepped inside, her heart in her throat. Looking all about her, her footsteps echoing on the wooden floor, she took it all in.
There was one large room with a fireplace and stove connected to the stone chimney. The house would be warm enough at night, that was for sure! The water basin was next to that, alongside the kitchen table and chairs. Hazel ran her hand over the table, wondering if it was something Stephen had made himself. Moving through the rest of the house, she saw another room next to the staircase, and climbing the stairs, she found another two bedrooms and a smaller box room. Everything was very neat and tidy, as though carefully organized. She was a little afraid to move something, feeling as though it might make Stephen angry if she did so.
Pushing down that feeling, Hazel continued to look around the house, her heart slowly filling with happiness. Shaking her head to herself, she wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged herself with delight. This was bigger than any home she’d ever been in, filled with space and light. It would be a wonderful place to call home.
“Are you in here, Hazel?”
“Just coming down,” she called back, still smiling as she walked down the stairs. “Your house is lovely, Stephen.”
He didn’t look up from what he was doing, busy setting out the pies on the table. “You can have either of the rooms up the stairs,” he said rather gruffly. “I sleep in there.” He jerked his head towards the room by the staircase, the one she’d not really looked into. “I’d prefer my wife be upstairs at night, just to be safe.”
Hazel frowned, something like fear clutching at her stomach. “Are there bandits around these parts?”
Pausing in what he was doing, Stephen looked up at her, straightening up to face her. “No, not really, but a ranch owner can never be too careful. I’ve got a lot of decent cattle and horses here. Best you stay upstairs.”
Understanding what he meant, Hazel tried to smile, her happiness beginning to blow away. “I’ll take my things up then.”
“I can do that for you,” came the hurried reply. “You need to rest.”
Hazel ignored him and picked up one of her bags, leaving him to get the rest. Climbing the stairs, she poked her head into the two largest rooms before settling on the one that looked out over the ranch. She’d be able to see the horses from her bedroom.
“This one will do just fine,” she said, setting her bag down. The room was well furnished, with a wardrobe, drawers, and a cozy-looking bed, but there were no drapes on the window and certainly no homey touches. Not that Hazel minded that, she’d be able to set most things right soon enough.
“Fine,” Stephen muttered, his breath coming rather quickly as he put down the rest of her things in her room. “You won’t be disturbed here, I promise you that.”
Hazel turned to face him, keeping her gaze steady. “I’m well aware that you don’t want any kind of affection between us, Stephen.”
He nodded, his cheeks burning with color as his gaze darted away. “And are you sure you ain’t going to want that?”
A ripple of laughter escaped from Hazel’s throat, clearly surprising him. “I can promise you, Stephen, that I won’t be looking for anything of the kind.” She laughed all the more at the astonishment on his face, realizing that he evidently believed most women sought that kind of thing in their marriages.
After a moment or two of quiet, Stephen cleared his throat and shrugged. “Well, good we’ve got that sorted out. I’d best get back down to put the horses away. Ned and Joe will be back from the pastures soon enough. They were out looking after the cattle today, and I’ll be heading out with them first thing tomorrow morning.” He looked at her steadily for a moment, his expression a little uncomfortable. “Do you think you’ll be all right to make breakfast?”
Hazel couldn’t help but grin. “So long as you show me where the hen house is, I’ll be more than willing to do that.”
A look of relief crossed his face. The man wasn’t much of a cook, perhaps.
“I’ll leave you to unpack,” he muttered, turning away. “Those pies need to be warmed for dinner, but that’s all.”
“I’ll see to it,” Hazel replied, looking around at her things and mentally beginning to unpack everything into various spaces. “In about an hour?”
“An hour is just fine,” came the reply. “Thank you, Hazel.”
10
The first night at the ranch had not been easy. Hazel had barely slept, her mind whirling with all that had happened, even though her bones were weary with exhaustion. The ranch had lots of different sounds compared to her home in town, especially at night. Coyotes howled in the moonlight while other night creatures scuffled across the sand. At one point in the night, Hazel had risen from her bed and gone to look out of the window, seeing the moon spreading its light across the ranch. It looked both ghostly and wonderful at the same time.
She had returned to bed and fallen into a rather restless sleep, struggling to find peace. She had woken numerous times, confused and disorientated, before finally falling into a deep sleep only a few hours before sunrise.
; The change in the light had been what had woken her. Pushing herself up on her elbows, Hazel looked out at her room, her heart thundering in her chest. Was she late? Had Stephen already left?
Dressing quickly, Hazel grabbed her apron and tied it around her waist before hurrying to the door. Quick fingers retied her long hair into a neater braid as she made her way down the stairs, her bare feet growing cool on the wooden floorboards. Stephen’s room still had its door closed, which had to be a good sign.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Hazel saw that he wasn’t about and quickly set to making breakfast. Luckily, Stephen had shown her where he stored everything, including the meat. It didn’t take her long to have the bacon and beans ready, adding some scrambled eggs to go with it.
Mentally kicking herself for not having left bread to rise overnight, Hazel set out what she would need to make bread later that day and quickly made a dough for biscuits. They were added to Stephen’s breakfast plate and still, he hadn’t appeared.
The coffee was made. The food was ready. The table was laid.
Not quite sure what to do, Hazel hesitantly made her way to Stephen’s room, knocking gently on the door.
The sound of barking from inside the room made her start with surprise, stumbling back a little.
“Be quiet, will you?”
The door opened and Stephen, looking half asleep, stood in the doorway rubbing his eyes. “What’s the matter?”
Hazel pressed her lips together for a moment, not quite sure where to look. Her husband was standing at the door with nothing on but his breeches, having clearly just woken up.
