The Bachelor Tax

by Carolyn Davidson

  If he’d blown out the candle, she’d have been more willing to pull the yards of nightgown over her head. As it was, her courage was flagging at the thought.

  “Rosie…” He bent to kiss her again and she welcomed his caress, her mouth softening beneath his, her lips allowing him entry.

  She didn’t even mind his calling her Rosie. It rolled off his tongue so softly, the whispering sound of it beckoning her. Even in the midst of his kisses, she was conscious of long fingers working at her buttons, then brushing over the crests of her breasts, pausing to lift and enclose them within broad palms.

  Anticipation had drawn her into knots all evening, her remembrance of her wedding night an acute entity, nudging her with bits and pieces, until her flesh pulsed with the memory of pleasure such as she’d never dreamed of.

  Tanner had turned the page she’d thought never to read. He’d changed her life beyond her wildest imaginings. He’d exposed the part of her that had long yearned for the secrets of marriage, the joys of knowing one man and one woman could seek and find happiness together.

  All that had seemed beyond her reach. Before Tanner.

  So, mixed with her yearning for nightfall to envelop them with its aura of temptation had been lingering thoughts. Thoughts that brought hesitation to her movements as she’d prepared for bed. She’d had a long week to consider it. Perhaps she’d been too forward, too willing. Maybe she’d not been reticent enough, as befitting a new bride.

  Her doubts had almost pushed her into confiding in Mama Pearl. Now she was glad she hadn’t.

  She’d been nervous before, thinking about the candle glowing against the wall in the far corner of the room. Now, its glow was reflected in Tanner’s eyes, and she was swept up in the storm of his loving, his mouth and hands warm against her skin.

  He was strong, and she reveled in it, allowing him to sweep her gown from her. Her hands fluttered for a moment, needing to provide cover, but his captured them, keeping them hostage. Held at her sides, her palms turned to match his, her fingers lacing with longer, stronger partners. And then, she waited.

  Knowing what was to come made it even more exciting, she decided. Being aware of the power of his manhood brought her body to fever pitch, as she considered his broad shoulders and the long length of his body lowering to cover hers.

  He spoke but broken phrases, seeming to need no reply, and it was just as well, for she’d lost all ability to speak. So taken with the sensation of her own bare skin against his, her legs twining against longer, firmer flesh, with muscles hard and powerful beneath her hands, she gave herself up to the bliss of womanhood.

  For that was surely the only word she could think of that described the joy he brought to her. Bliss. From the entry of his powerful arousal into her tender flesh, to the final whispering cries she uttered against his shoulder, she was transported to a world inhabited only by the two of them.

  “…a husband and wife shall cleave together…and the two shall become one flesh.”

  The phrases swept through her mind, each syllable singing with majestic sweetness. Solomon hadn’t spoken them, as wise as he was, for these words had been ordained from the dawn of creation, from the beginning of the world.

  And tonight, Gabriel Tanner had unveiled their mystery.

  Saturday dawned clear, the rising sun illuminating a bustling hullabaloo that centered around Tanner’s barnyard. His men awaited breakfast, their faces shining with early-morning ablutions, tools lined up on the wagon bed and chores completed.

  Their sounds of merriment carried across the yard to the kitchen, and Rosemary stood in the doorway, her smile widening as she heard their laughter vibrate in the air. The breeze carried just a touch of chill on its wings and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “You cold?” Tanner spoke from behind her and she shook her head, rubbing her hands together.

  “No, just caught a draft. It feels almost like fall coming on, doesn’t it?”

  “Smells that way, too,” he agreed, his body forming to curve around her back. His chest was warm against her shoulders and she leaned her head back, delighting in the ease he offered. There was no holding back with Tanner, whether someone watched or not. When he touched her, like now, his arms around her waist, his fingers clasping her own, it was with tender care.

  “Will there be a big crowd at the schoolhouse?” she asked.

  He nodded, and she felt the movement against her hair. “I expect so. Most everyone has their hay cut. Crops are pretty well in. Not much goin’ on except for butchering.”

  “When will you do that?” she asked, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

  “In a couple of weeks. We’ll want to cut up a couple of pigs to fill the smokehouse for the winter. Don’t usually butcher beef ahead of time, just as we need it.”

  “Do I need to do anything?” Perhaps her tone gave her away, for he laughed and rocked her back and forth.

  “Naw, you can just grind up some shoulder meat to cook up for oat sausage. Mama Pearl will know what to do. Just pay attention to her and you’ll be all right.”

  Her sigh was heartfelt. “I’m not much of a ranch wife, am I?”

  His fingers tightened for a moment. “You suit me just fine, Mrs. Tanner.”

  “You want to ring that bell?” Mama Pearl’s call came from the pantry and Rosemary turned to watch as the woman placed syrup and jam on the table.

  “You ring it, Tanner,” Rosemary said quickly. “I need to lend a hand.”

  He nodded and stepped out onto the porch. In moments, the kitchen rang with laughter as the men found their places around the table. Scat scooted onto a long bench and was the subject of much poking and prodding as he took a share of teasing. Anna sat quietly on a chair beside Rosemary’s chosen seat and listened, wide-eyed, as the men prepared to eat.

  Tanner stood, and the noise dwindled, ceasing as he cleared his throat. The blessing he spoke was familiar now to Rosemary, and she hugged her delight close as his deep voice intoned the words. His chair scraped the floor noisily as he took his seat, and the voices raised once more.

  Anna leaned close, her hand almost shielding her soft lips. “Who was he talkin’ to, Miss Rosemary? He always does that, ever time we eat, but I can’t never tell who he’s sayin’ those words to.”

  Rosemary closed her eyes. Surely the child had heard of…But, apparently not. She bent to whisper in Anna’s ear. “He’s asking a blessing on our food, sweetheart. We’re thankful we have such wonderful meals, and he was thanking God.”

  “I heard my pa talk to God sometimes. When he got mad, he hollered ‘God’ a lot.”

  Rosemary cringed within. “I don’t think it was the same thing at all, Anna. After a while, we’ll talk about it, and I’ll see if I can explain it to you.”

  “You ever been to a wall raisin’, Miss Rosemary?” Tipper asked, catching her attention.

  She glanced up, smiling at his eager expression. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

  Bootie raised his fork. “You’ll have to cheer for us, ma’am. We’ll be on the team buildin’ the west wall of the schoolhouse.”

  Tanner broke in. “The men choose teams to see who can have a wall ready to go up first. This oughta be easier than buildin’ a barn. It’s pretty close to the same thing, only smaller.”

  “Is there a prize for the winners?” Rosemary asked.

  Cotton chuckled. “Yeah. All the ladies get to dance with us. Ain’t enough ladies to go around, Miss Rosemary. So the winners get first pick when the fiddles get to goin’ good.”

  “I didn’t know there was a dearth of womenfolk around here,” Rosemary said.

  “Well,” Cotton drawled, “I sure enough had a hard time lookin’ for one that wasn’t already taken or not about to be agreeable when I was lookin’ for a likely prospect last month.”

  “I suspect that’s why the Bachelor Tax raked in enough cash for the new school,” Tipper said glumly. “Cost a pretty penny to stay single for another year.�
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  “Maybe they’ll repeal it, now that the schoolhouse is pretty near paid for,” Bootie said hopefully.

  “Too late for you, boss,” Tipper said with a sidelong glance. He lifted a heavily laden fork to his mouth. “Not that I hear you complainin’.”

  Cotton cleared his throat. “You better stuff your mouth with food, boy. Them words comin’ out of it are gonna get you into trouble if you don’t watch out.”

  Tanner’s brows lowered as he considered the young ranch hand. “You think I got something to complain about, son?”

  Tipper chewed hard, his head moving rapidly back and forth. “No sir, I surely don’t. I was just joshin’ you, boss.”

  Tanner’s eyes swept the length of the table, touching upon each man in turn, pausing as he reached Scat. “How about you, boy? Anything to say?”

  Scat’s chin rose defiantly. “I’d say anybody married to Miss Rosemary’s a pretty lucky fella…sir.”

  Tanner nodded solemnly. “I’d say we’re agreed on that.” His gaze narrowed as he focused on Rosemary, and she felt scalded by his scrutiny, her face burning as the attention of seven men was turned in her direction.

  She rose hastily. “You all need to mind your own business and eat your breakfast. I’m clearing the table in five minutes.” Her head was high as she turned aside.

  How he reached her so quickly was a mystery, but surely those were Tanner’s hands on her waist as he whispered in her ear. “You’re red as a beet, honey.” His mouth nuzzled against her cheek. “Warm, too.”

  She stiffened and shook her head, aware of his chuckle as his big body shielded her from the men at the table. She was sheltered there, her hands clutching the edge of the counter for dear life, her eyes filling with hot tears. Behind her, chairs scraped the floor, voices faded as the screen door opened and closed, and boots clumped their way across the porch.

  Only the soft murmurs of Mama Pearl as she spoke to Anna remained, and then as the child’s laughter rose, catching her attention, Rosemary leaned her head back against Tanner’s shoulder.

  “Was it worth it? Marrying me? Did you save enough to make it worthwhile, putting up with all I brought with me?”

  His arms enclosed her and his voice rumbled against her ear. “Oh, yes. You’re worth it, and more.” He turned her in his arms and tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet him. “I paid the tax anyway, sweetheart. The men don’t need to know, but I wanted the schoolhouse built, and they were some short. So I stopped by the mayor’s office and gave them enough to finish buying the windows and flooring.”

  She blinked back her tears, and he thought she had never been so lovely. Her eyes damp, her cheeks flushed, and wispy curls coming loose from her hastily assembled braid; she was the very essence of beauty to him. Her forehead creased and her mouth puckered as if she considered some great mystery, and he laughed aloud.

  “Why?” she asked. “Why pay the tax and marry me, too? If you were going to spend the money on the schoolhouse anyway, you needn’t have…”

  He touched her lips with his index finger. “Maybe I felt differently about the whole thing, once I had you here. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want you to think for the rest of our lives that I only married you to save myself some money.”

  She blinked, and a tear slid down her cheek. He brushed it away with his fingertip and touched the corner of her mouth. “Will you smile for me, sweetheart?”

  Her lips trembled and he could not resist their appeal. His head tilted, his mouth meshing with hers, and she sighed, the soft sound bringing to his mind a memory from early morning. Just so had she breathed out his name as the first birdsong of a new day had pierced the silence within their bedroom.

  “Gabriel.” She’d been wrapped in his arms, warmed by his loving, and her whisper had brought him a rare kind of happiness he’d thought never to attain. Now, he lifted his head to look down at her, her lips damp from his kiss. Her eyelids fluttered, half-open and hazy with desire he had brought to life, and deep within, he felt the rush of pure delight once more.

  “I don’t know the right words to say, Rosie,” he whispered. “I never believed much in love between a man and woman, not till now. I never said that word out loud before, but I’m sayin’ it now.”

  “Do you love me?” she asked, her words hopeful, yet restrained. “Don’t say it if you’re not sure.” She bit her lip and he shook his head, one finger pressing against her mouth.

  “You only do that when you’re confused, honey,” he told her softly. “And there’s nothin’ to be worried about this morning. Maybe I’ll never know for certain, but I guess I’m sure as I can be, Rosie. I married you because I wanted to, not because I had to. I took these kids into our home because it was the right thing to do, not to get you in my bed.”

  She smiled, blinking back fresh tears, and lifted on her tiptoes to bless him with her lips, touching his mouth in numerous small tributes, as if she could not spend more than the space of a second in one spot. Her hands clutched at his hair, pulling his head down, tilting it one way and then the other, as her mouth spread its bounty across his cheeks and chin, up to his forehead, from one temple to the other.

  “I love you, Gabriel Tanner,” she whispered, her breath sweet in his mouth, her body pressed firmly against his own. He held her in an iron grip, lifting her with ease, and her arms slid to circle his neck, pulling herself even closer, until her face was buried in the crease of shoulder and neck, and her warm breath sobbed out the words close to his ear.

  “I love you…I love you…” A sigh so deep it must have been born within the depths of her soul vibrated against his throat, and she relaxed there, shivering with an emotion he recognized.

  The urge to pick her up and carry her to their bed, where the covers still held the scent of their early-morning loving was so enormous, so immense, he trembled as he denied its temptation. This day would be long.

  “Rosemary?” He lowered her to the floor and held her steady. “We should be leaving.”

  From the doorway, the brightly colored turban atop Mama Pearl’s head caught his eye, and he met her level gaze.

  “You two about done with your monkey-doodlin’ around?” she asked. “We need to clean up this mess and get our dinner packed up, Miss Rosemary.”

  “Yes, of course.” Rosemary’s legs assumed their normal strength as she levered herself away from him, and Tanner suffered the loss. Her cheeks bloomed with color, and the look she cast in his direction was pleading.

  “You go on now,” she said firmly, allowing just a trace of humor to tinge her words. “Unless you want to wash up these dishes.”

  “No, ma’am, not me,” he said emphatically, backing from her. “I’ve got a wagon to finish loading and a boy out there bound and determined to climb rafters today. I’m not sure which is gonna be the hardest to tend to.”

  He left the kitchen in half a dozen long strides, crossed the porch in less, and was down the steps before the screen door slammed behind him. The fullness in his groin was lessening, his mind churning with the day’s events to come, and he grinned to himself.

  The woman was a handful, sure enough. But she was his handful, and not cut from the same cloth as others he’d come across. She’d be faithful and true, and he’d be willing to bet she’d be around for the long haul. The vision of his mother was rapidly fading, the image of her trudging down the lane becoming a dim memory that caused only a moment’s pain.

  He’d determined years ago not to be like his pa, tied to a whiskey bottle. And Rosemary brought hope near to blooming. She was a far cry from the woman who had walked away when things got tough.

  The sun was up in full force as the wagon lurched into motion, his biggest draft horses pulling it down the lane. Cotton held the reins, and all around it were ranch hands, mounted on gleaming horses, with a clean shirt tied to each saddle, in preparation for the dance later on.

  Rosemary drove the buggy, Anna beside her, Mama Pearl squeezing the child from the other side. Tanner b
rought up the rear, watchful as Scat rode beside the buggy, the better to keep an eye on his sister.

  It promised to be a beautiful day.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The west wall was up first, held in place with two-by-fours, ten men cheering their own efforts. Rosemary clapped until her hands were red and her face was tired from smiling. Such fun had never come her way in her entire life.

  The town had turned out in great style—even the hotel owner, Samuel Westcott, had arrived with a load of chairs and tables to set up under the trees. Baskets of food filled long plank tables, with sawhorses holding the heavy load. The sun was high in the sky as womenfolk began emptying the food onto the oilcloth-covered, makeshift tables, and their voices rang in merriment as they prepared the meal for the menfolk first.

  Scat was given the task of pumping water as the men washed up, their faces red from exposure to the sun’s rays, their hands and arms covered with sawdust. Two little girls manned brooms and swept sawdust-laden trousers as the men lined up to wash, and there was a general hubbub as the younger men chose partners to share their plates of food.

  Rosemary had never seen so many people in one place, and all of one accord. The four walls were up and nailed in place, ready for the rafters. Tanner stood before her, hands propped on his hips and grinning to beat the band.

  “We won the contest,” he boasted. “I get first pick for the dance later on.”

  “Who you choosing?” she asked, tilting her head as she mocked his stance.

  “You’ll find out, Mrs. Tanner.” He motioned, jutting his chin toward the shelter of tall oak trees where the tables and chair were rapidly filling. “Come on, I put a blanket on the ground for us.”

  “I don’t have a plate,” she said. “I’ll wait till all the men get served.”

  “I filled mine up enough for both of us,” he told her.

  “Go on, honey,” Bernice Comstock said from beside her. “Isn’t every day a good-looking man makes an offer like that.”