“For now, just stick close to Tanner or Cotton, all right?” she asked. “I’ll keep Anna with me.”
The boy nodded and slid from the porch, then turned back as his booted feet hit the ground. “Ma’am, I didn’t thank you for the clothes and the new boots. They’re kinda crampin’ my toes, but Tanner says I’ll get used to it.”
He stuck one foot forward, eyeing it judiciously. “I never had boots before. They’re right pretty, ain’t they?”
Rosemary nodded, finding speech difficult when her throat was so thick with emotion. She watched as the boy trudged toward the barn, then scooted backward and rose to her feet.
“That boy’s got too much to bear for a young’un,” Mama Pearl said from the doorway. “Come on in here, girl, see what I did to the dining room. This’ll cheer you up.”
Rosemary followed agreeably, grateful for the words that had interrupted her fretting. Pa had said more than once that it was a sin to keep on worrying once a body’d put their problems in God’s hands. And every angel behind those golden gates must know that Rosemary had done a heap of delivering up Scat and Anna into heaven’s care.
“Oh, my!” Her exclamation of delight was spontaneous as she stood within the wide doorway of the dining room. Mama Pearl had stripped the dust covers from the furniture, opened wide the draperies and pried up the windows, allowing a breeze to blow through the room.
The furniture was made of oak, carved and embellished, and fit for the finest house in town, Rosemary thought. She walked past the long table, her fingertips coasting across the tops of five chairs on either side, and one on each end. The circuit complete, she turned to the long sideboard, tracing the deeply cut design on the edge, bending to peer at herself in the oval mirror inset within the tall back. A pink-cheeked hoyden was captured there, with dark hair and blue eyes that held a trace of sadness.
“I look like something the cat dragged in,” she said, her smile rueful as she turned to Mama Pearl. She gazed at the chandelier, globes and chimneys gleaming in the sunlight that cascaded through the windows.
“It’s beautiful.” Even to her own ears, her murmur was wistful. “I’ve never seen another like it. Not even the one in the parlor.”
“Old Walt Tanner fixed this room up for his woman, hopin’ to keep her here with fancy furniture and colored lights.” Mama Pearl sniffed as if a particularly virulent scent had passed her way. “He’d oughta known that treatin’ a woman right makes more sense than spendin’ money.”
“He wasn’t kind?” Rosemary asked, glancing at the doorway, lest someone overhear. Speaking unkindly of the dead and departed was not her usual behavior, yet she felt an urgency to know more of Tanner’s family.
“Kind!” Mama Pearl almost shouted the word. “The old man was about as far from kind as any man ever was. Thought because he bought her fancy things, she’d be happy. Then one fine day when that drummer came by and told her she’d look mighty good in one of the big houses in Shreveport, what with her bein’ so pretty and fine-figured, she started in thinkin’ that she might as well take a hike.”
“Tanner said she walked down the road and never looked back.”
“Sure enough. ’Course, I always did think that fancy drummer fella figured out how to snatch her up. He was one fine lookin’ man, he was.” Mama Pearl nodded her head, smacking her lips as if tasting a particularly savory treat.
“You act like you didn’t blame her. She left her son behind,” Rosemary protested.
“She knew he was gettin’ to the place where he’d take hold and get his hand in the runnin’ of things here. Walt Tanner just buried himself behind that desk in there and let Tanner do it.”
Rosemary shook her head. “I couldn’t do that, just walk out that way.”
“No, I don’t ’spose you could, honey. But then, you got a different upbringin’ than Greta Tanner. And you got a man that treats you right. Greta wore bruises more than once around here. There wasn’t any love to give in Walt. Between ’em they sure made a mess of things.”
Rosemary listened with a growing sense of sorrow, recalling the words Tanner had spoken last week on the way home from town. He’d learned young not to depend on anybody else. And he’d learned early on not to trust a woman.
She had her work cut out for her.
“They’re gonna be raisin’ the roof for the new schoolhouse next week, Saturday,” Tipper said. He held the big bowl of potatoes in one hand and spooned out an enormous portion to his plate. He’d come in late, after hauling a load from the sawmill. Now he recounted the news from town.
“Really? They have enough money?” Rosemary asked.
“They didn’t come lookin’ for any from me,” Tanner said with a glance at Rosemary.
Tipper snorted loudly. “I got stuck payin’ mine, first of August. They must have somebody does nu-thin’ but check up on bachelors in this town. Ever since that crazy tax got passed last year, I feel like the ladies are keepin’ an eye on every fella in town.”
“Yeah, I’ve been afraid to show my face since last week.” Bootie spoke around a mouthful of food, but his words were so sour, Rosemary didn’t have the heart to correct his manners.
“How do they collect the money?” she asked.
Tanner’s voice was dominant as three different men began explanations. “They gave bachelors a year to find a wife. That year was up on August first. If a man can’t prove he’s asked a woman to marry him during the past year, he pays, and pays through the nose.”
He watched as Rosemary assimilated his answer. The moment she lifted her gaze to meet his, he was sorry he’d been so blunt and unfeeling in his choice of wordage.
“If I’d truly turned you down, you’d still have been exempt, wouldn’t you?”
“I was tired of bein’ a bachelor, Rosemary.” His words were met with laughter as one, then another of the men disputed his claim.
“He’d never have got married if you hadn’t come along, ma’am,” Cotton said stoutly. “Tanner was about the least likely candidate for marriage as any man I ever knew.”
“Then I suppose he was fortunate that I arrived on the scene, wasn’t he?” she answered, ducking her head as she shuffled the food around on her plate. “I’m sure he’s pleased as punch to be an old married man.”
The voices stilled, and the men began eating at a swifter pace, cutting an occasional glance at Tanner, then back at Rosemary, quizzical expressions marring their usually good-natured faces. Tanner thought every one of them looked like he’d stepped atop an anthill and was trying to figure out how to make an escape.
One by one, they excused themselves, the manners Rosemary had coached them in coming to the forefront as they begged her leave to exit the kitchen.
She nodded at each in turn, as if she were the schoolmarm and the grown men around her lads in a schoolroom. Tanner felt his way cautiously as the last of the men closed the door behind himself.
“I’ve snapped your garter someway or another,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “And I’ll be damned if I know how.”
“As you so elegantly put it, Mr. Tanner, my garter is not snapped. I’m just very pleased that marrying me bore at least one benefit to you. I hope the money you saved was a tidy sum.”
“Yeah,” he drawled. “As a matter of fact it was, me bein’ a landowner.” She was irritating him now, with her chin set like a bulldog and that nose up in the air.
“Well, just think! If I’d turned you down, you’d have been saved the burden of having a wife underfoot, not to mention the two children I’ve foisted on you.”
Tanner cocked his head. She was on a roll now, madder’n a wet hen. He might as well go all the way and set her skirts on fire with his final salvo.
“Well, the fact is, Miss Rosemary, I got a free cook and housekeeper out of this deal, not to mention some other benefits I won’t name right now. And I’m not complainin’ about any of them.”
He’d never seen her move so fast, on her feet and on the run. He bolt
ed from his chair and grasped her arm as she would have escaped the room. His arms encircled her and his mouth met hers with a degree of desire he hadn’t expected to find in this meshing of lips. He was about half set to blow, and about halfway to being as aroused as a man could get.
Even the mumbling sounds coming from Rosemary’s throat as he slaked his immediate hunger in the sweetness of her mouth were not enough to deter his passion. Yet, whether he liked it or not, he had an angry woman to deal with.
He gave her room to breathe, but his lips brushed the skin of her cheek and throat as he spoke. “Hush, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you quite that far, and I don’t blame you one stinkin’ bit for bein’ mad at me.”
“Well, that’s mighty big of you, Gabe Tanner. If I’d known that a firm refusal would have been to your benefit, I’d certainly have done things differently.”
His hold gentled, his hands moving in a caressing fashion over her back. “Would you, now? And where would you be, Rosie?”
Her eyes fell from his gaze and she shook her head. “That’s the sad part. I don’t know what I’d have done.”
“Well, to tell the truth, I’m glad you came here, and I’m even happier that you married me, honey.” He held her away and looked her up and down. “You’ve managed to crawl under my hide like no one else in this world ever has. I’ve got a powerful yen for you, Mrs. Tanner.”
From beyond the pantry door, Mama Pearl’s woeful tones could be heard as she clattered crocks and pans in a harsh medley of sound. “Are y’all about done fightin’ out there? I got work to do.”
Tanner laughed aloud. “Come on out, Mama Pearl. We’re just havin’ a little discussion, but I reckon it’s about settled.”
Rosemary stepped back from his hold and smoothed back her hair. Somehow, he’d managed to undo her best efforts, and dark waves hung on either side of her face.
“I like it that way, sweetheart,” he told her softly, his fingers tugging at the pins that bound her hair in place at her nape. He’d succeeded in pulling out four or five before she stomped her foot in exasperation. But it was too late, and the carefully twisted and wound length fell from place.
“Now I’ve got to redo it,” she muttered, holding out her hand for the return of the dark bone pins he held.
He leaned to whisper in her ear. “Come on upstairs with me and I’ll help you.”
Her look of disdain was priceless, he thought, as she shook her head firmly.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I can do it right here.”
He sighed, an exaggerated sound that almost made her smile. Her lips twitched, her eyes twinkled, and he was satisfied. He deposited the pins in her outstretched hand and closed her fingers over them.
The sun couldn’t set fast enough to suit him, he decided.
It had been a long week since his wedding night.
Chapter Twelve
They’d gone to bed in the dark for the past week, Rosemary swathed in her long, white gown. Her halting explanation of a woman’s monthly problem had been most embarrassing for her, and Gabe had tried his best to be understanding. Not an easy task for a new bridegroom.
Tonight looked to be a different situation altogether. He’d managed to talk her into one, lone candle. And that one was as far from the bed as she could get it. She’d placed it on the washstand, behind the privacy screen, and then cast him a sidelong glance when he folded the screen against the wall.
It seemed that Rosemary would be an obedient wife, but only as far as her modesty would allow. He’d thought she was over the first hurdle already, but there she sat on the bedside, already garbed in her white nightgown, as if she were mulling over her next move.
It would be flat on the mattress, if he had anything to say about it, Tanner decided. Stripped to the barest essentials, in order to spare her dignity, he watched her. If he played it right, he could be beneath the sheet before his drawers hit the floor. Thumbs at the waistband, he slid from the garment.
Rosemary looked over her shoulder, caught off balance as the mattress shifted with his weight. Her eyes took in the broad width of his chest, seeming to focus on the dark triangle of hair in its center. She shot a quick glance at the length of him, and he fought the chuckle that threatened to emerge.
He could see the wheels turning in that head of hers, wondering what he wore on his bottom, and wary of finding out. One hand lifted to coax her beneath the sheet, and she placed icy fingers against his palm.
“You’re cold, Rosie. Come on over here and let me get you warm.” Though how she could possibly need warming on such a beautiful summer night was a poser. Her fingers trembled and he tightened his grip.
She was scared. Well, maybe not scared, but sure enough she had a case of nerves. He’d hoped…Well, no matter.
Rosemary turned, sliding her feet next to his, placing her head in the precise center of her pillow. The sheet was drawn up tightly beneath her chin and Tanner exhaled loudly.
“What? What is it?” she asked quickly, turning to him with a cautious air.
“I don’t want you to be worryin’ about what’s gonna happen tonight,” Tanner said quietly. “I thought we’d gotten that out of the way last week.” And tonight he’d hoped to be home free.
“I’m not worried,” she denied, her gaze touching his, then slanting off to one side. “I really don’t like the room so light.”
And he’d been wishing for a lantern right over the bed.
“You think I’m being foolish, don’t you?” Her forehead was furrowed with the tension she’d managed to build up, and he ached to dispense with every speck of it.
He rose on one elbow, and his index finger touched the creases and worked at erasing them. “Naw, I think you’re a lot of things. Pretty…”
Her lips pursed and an impatient sound rumbled in her throat. The tip of her tongue slipped between rosy lips and moistened the flesh it touched. He watched it in rapt admiration.
“You think I’m pretty?” Her blue eyes were less wary now it seemed, warming to his cause.
“Damn right. And a lot of other things. I mean, pretty’s fine, but there’s a heap of pretty women in Texas. I’d rather have honest and capable and loving, any day of the week.”
“Rather than pretty?” She sounded doubtful at that and scanned him with a scornful look. “Men like pretty. Not that I really think I am…pretty, I mean.”
His hand admired her skin, brushing against the firm flesh of her forehead as he noted the disappearance of her frown lines. Her cheek was soft, her ear nicely furled. And then there was the soft curve of her throat, just beneath her jawline. He touched the fragile skin, felt the pulsing of her heart beneath his fingertips, then bent to place his mouth there, where the beat trembled beneath his lips.
“I think you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, Miss Rosemary.” He lifted his head to find her eyes rounding in surprise. “I’ve seen pretty at its finest, like skittish mares, and newborn fillies and the sun rising in the east.”
He ducked his head, feeling a bit foolish, as if his words had exposed him to ridicule, then decided to brazen it out. “Anyway, you’re the best of the lot, honey. You’ve got a shine on you like a new penny, and your hair makes me want to wrap myself up in it.”
“Like a new penny?” Her mouth trembled, then twitched, then turned up at the corners. Her eyes crinkled and pure mischief lit their depths. “Now, maybe a whole bushel of new pennies would be pretty, Mr. Tanner. Just one isn’t worth a whole lot.”
Damn, if she wasn’t teasing him. He grinned his response. “Trust me, Rosie. You’re worth a whole lot.” He gathered her in his arms and rocked her against himself. “You’re not afraid, are you.” It was a statement of fact, he realized. The wary look was gone, replaced by amusement, and he was more than pleased with the knowledge.
She lifted her arm and twined it around his neck. “I was a little bit worried, at first…tonight I mean.”
“Oh?” He tilted his hea
d back and watched as her cheeks bloomed. “How’s that?”
“I kept thinking about last time, and wondering if I was too forward. And if I was what you expected. And I almost asked Mama Pearl about…”
“No, don’t do that,” he said quickly. “You want to know anything, you ask me.” The thought of Mama Pearl giving him one of her gimlet stares was not to be imagined. The woman would skin him alive if she thought for one minute he’d done damage to her lone chick.
“I couldn’t bring myself to ask her, anyway,” Rosemary admitted.
“Ask me, then.” He bent lower, his mouth sweeping the width of hers, tasting the peppermint tooth powder she’d used.
“I just wanted to know if I did what I was supposed to, if it was what you expected. Last time, I mean.”
“And how the dickens was Mama Pearl supposed to know the answer to that one?” he asked, hardly able to contain his amusement.
“That’s why I didn’t ask her.”
“Well, I can set your mind at ease, pretty lady.” His fingers eased the sheet lower until the buttons on her gown were all exposed, lined up neatly from throat to waist.
“You were just fine. Better than fine. You were…” He hesitated, at a loss for words that would tell her what she needed to know.
“I told you that you were beautiful, didn’t I?”
Her head nodded, the movement slight, as if she urged him to continue.
“Well, you were. Not pretty, like you are now, but beautiful, like the stained-glass window at church. And, to tell you the truth, I don’t know which is better. But beautiful is the way a bride should be, Rosie. All fresh and new and…” He hesitated. “Innocent. You were innocent.”
“And now? I’m not any more, am I?”
His grin was wide. “Yeah, you are. Just not so much as before. But now, you know kinda what to expect, and I can tell you’re not worried about my touching you, and your eyes are shiny and you’re…Damn, you’re pretty as a picture.”
Not worried about him touching her. Her breasts already yearned for his big, warm hands to enclose them, peaking and rubbing against the fabric of her gown as she shifted against the mattress. And he was thinking she was hesitant.
The Bachelor Tax Page 15
