Crumpets & Cowpies: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 1)

Home > Romance > Crumpets & Cowpies: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 1) > Page 19
Crumpets & Cowpies: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 1) Page 19

by Shanna Hatfield


  “I didn’t know I needed to ask permission, your highness. What’s got you mad as a wet hen?”

  She continued glowering at him.

  “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been in a snit since dinner. You’re not still mad about the chili, are you?” Thane cocked a hip and crossed his arms over his chest, studying his wife.

  When she was angry, her cheeks blossomed with color and her copper eyes glowed with fire. The fiery sparks in her eyes enticed him and he realized it was one of the reasons he constantly provoked her.

  “No. I could care less about those beans Sam acquired from Satan himself. However, there is a matter that has left me quite distraught.” Jemma folded her hands at her waist and once again settled her glare on Thane.

  “Was it the mice? Sam told me about rescuing you from the nest.” Thane took a step closer. “Did someone say something they shouldn’t? If so, you just tell me who and I’ll…”

  Jemma reached out and placed her fingers over his mouth, silencing him. When he kissed her palm, she jerked her hand back and buried it in her skirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way it shook.

  Delightful tingles of excitement raced through her whenever he pressed his lips to her skin, leaving her addled.

  Distracted, her eyes followed the lines of his suspenders as they created two vertical stripes down the broad plane of his chest and firm stomach. As he stood before her, slick with sweat, she wanted to reach out and touch one of his hard muscles in the worst way.

  She forced herself to focus on her current reason for being angry with the man and blinked away her interest in her husband.

  “Where is my money, Thane? I’d like it back, please.” Jemma held a hand out to him, even though it trembled slightly.

  “Money? What money?” he asked, puzzled.

  “The money you pilfered from my unmentionables. The very ones you so uncouthly removed from my person yesterday.”

  Thane took another step toward her and bent down until she could see flecks of light and dark blue mingling in his eyes. He smelled of leather, horses, and something superbly masculine.

  “You want me to check these petticoats, too? I’d be happy to do it right this minute.” As he waggled his eyebrows at her, he reached down and grabbed the hem of her gown, lifting it nearly to her knees.

  Maddened, she slapped at his hand. “You are the most infuriating, abhorrent man, Thane Jordan.”

  His cocky grin served only to stoke her temper.

  “If you please, my money, sir!” Jemma tamped down the desire to stamp her foot — on top of his.

  Gently taking her hand, he pulled her into the bedroom, opened the second drawer of the dresser, and moved aside a handful of his shirts. He pointed to her money.

  “I noticed it last night and didn’t want anything to happen to it, so I stuck it in this drawer. I only need one drawer so the rest are yours.” Thane motioned to her trunk. “Are you going to unpack your things?”

  “I’ll see to it later,” Jemma said, glancing down at the money, relieved. Ashamed she accused him of stealing her money, she turned to him and placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Thane. I know you wouldn’t steal my money, I just didn’t think to look… My apologies.”

  Instead of accepting her apology or saying she was forgiven, he tipped up her chin so she had to look him in the face. “I don’t want your money, Jem. I don’t even want Henry’s money. Besides, I thought Henry left you broke. You have almost six thousand dollars there. Where did you get it?”

  “I sold some things before we left Bolton.” Jemma turned away and studied the rough plank floor beneath her feet.

  Thane’s brow furrowed into twin vertical lines. “Sold some things? What things?”

  Jemma walked over to her trunk and fiddled with a handful of handkerchiefs. She carried them to a drawer and set them inside, avoiding his question.

  “Jemma, what did you sell?”

  “Paintings, tapestries, rugs, statuary, and the like. Things I couldn’t pack into a trunk.”

  Thane sucked in a shocked breath, but she kept her back to him, even when he placed a hand on her shoulder. “What in the world did you do that for?”

  “You told me I couldn’t bring everything with me and it’s not likely I’ll return to England. I had nowhere to keep those things, anyway.” Jemma moved away from him and stood in front of the window, watching Jack chase Rigsly in circles by the barn in the fading evening light. “Besides, I didn’t know you well enough then to be assured you would provide for the children. I felt it necessary to acquire my own funding should the need arise to care for them without your assistance.”

  Thane growled as he stepped beside her and turned her to face him. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you. The moment I agreed to the terms of Henry’s will, you and those children became my responsibility. I will always provide for you, shelter you, and take care of you. You can do what you like with your money, but if you plan to spend it on things for the house or the kids, get that thought out of your head. I’ll pay for whatever is needed.”

  “That’s unnecessary, sir.” Jemma shook her head although she didn’t pull away from Thane as he continued to stand with his hands on her arms, staring at her with a ruthless intensity.

  “And it was unnecessary to sell your things. I know you couldn’t bring everything with you, but if they meant that much to you, I would have…”

  “Done nothing different.” Jemma interrupted him, raising her eyes to his. “You have no room for anything here.” She waved her hand around the room for emphasis. “I kept the things that meant the most to me, Thane. They are in the trunks in your barn. Perhaps someday I will use those things again. If not, at least I have them to pass along to Jack and Lily.”

  He reached out and tenderly brushed his thumb along her jaw. Her eyes fluttered closed, her thick lashes like delicate fans against her skin, making his heart race. “If you like, I’ll go to the bank with you and you can open an account with your money.”

  “I appreciate your offer. Thank you.” Jemma wondered how he could go from making her so angry she wanted to slap him to being so tender she could melt in his arms. Confused, she shoved aside her questions and gave him a sidelong glance.

  While he seemed in an agreeable mood, she decided to bring up her next topic of concern. “May we please go to Baker City tomorrow? I have a long list of supplies.”

  “Can’t it wait a few days? We were just there yesterday. I don’t have time to cart you to town every time you get the whim to buy some frippery or nonsense. This isn’t Bolton where you can walk into the village to shop whenever you like.” Thane’s voice sounded harsher than he intended. At the look of hurt in her eyes, he wished he hadn’t spoken so quickly or curtly. He knew the house needed to be stocked for supplies, having noticed the previous evening the cupboards were empty.

  Jemma’s chin lifted defiantly, but he held up a hand to stop her from speaking. “Do you have a list?”

  “Yes. It’s on the table. The one with only two chairs, so even if I had any supplies to make a meal, only two of the four people inhabiting this cabin could sit to enjoy it.” Jemma smiled the entire time she spoke but Thane felt her jabs with each word she said.

  He followed her back to the kitchen where she took a list from the table and handed it to him. “This is what I would like to purchase.”

  Thane glanced through the list and didn’t see anything ridiculous. During the course of the day, he’d thought of several things they would need to purchase. After sitting down at the table, he added them to Jemma’s list.

  “I’ll take you into town tomorrow, but I want to be clear that you understand I can’t make a habit of it. This is an exception.”

  Her fingers twitched with the urge to smack Thane upside the head. “I’ll go alone, then. Show me how to hitch the horse to the wagon-thing we rode home in yesterday.”

  Thane’s bark of laugher held a hint of disdain as he rose from the table. “I don’t thin
k so, my lady. It’s called a buckboard. For one thing, you have no idea how to drive it even if you are good at handling horses. Due to the size of this list, you’ll need my big wagon, anyway. Even if you could drive the wagon, you aren’t going anywhere alone until you learn to shoot.”

  “Shoot? Are you insane? I’m not shooting a firearm.”

  Thane took a menacing stride forward, towering over her with a stubborn glint in his blue eyes. “Yes, you are. If you want to be able to do more than stay around this house, you’ll carry a gun and know how to use it. Understood?”

  Jemma meekly nodded her head.

  “This isn’t like Bolton, Jem. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be on you.”

  He stepped back and glanced toward their open bedroom door as thoughts rolled through his head. “As you most likely observed, there isn’t a lot of room here in the cabin. I’ll add some pegs to the bedroom walls for your dresses, but you aren’t going to be able to unpack much. If you need something out of the trunks in the barn, ask me or one of the hands and we’ll get it for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I noticed you want to get a few pieces of furniture. Where do you think they’ll fit?”

  Jemma showed him how she wanted to rearrange the table and pointed out how she thought they could utilize the open area between the bedrooms for a small settee and a few chairs, a side table, and some lamps.

  “Anything else?” he asked, agreeing to her requests. He assumed once he returned to the ranch, life would be much like it was before he received Weston’s telegram advising him of Henry’s death. Now that he was back with a wife and two children, he realized they all had some adjustments to make.

  “You noted I had a sewing machine on my list?”

  “Yes, I did. That’s fine. It’ll save you time, won’t it?”

  Surprised by Thane’s response, Jemma offered him a small smile. “It shall indeed.”

  “We’ll figure out somewhere to put it.” The slow, deliberate perusal he gave her from head to toe sent his temperature soaring. Enthralled by how beautiful she looked in her silky dress, he remembered he wanted to discuss the matter of her attire.

  “Look, Jemma, I know you’re used to satin and silk, but life out here is hard and it’ll ruin your pretty dresses in no time. You might want to get some calico or gingham at the store tomorrow to make you and Lily some plainer clothes. You can wear your nice things on Sundays or when we go to town, but around here, you definitely need something different. My friend Maggie has a dress shop in town. You might even find a few ready-made pieces there if you want to stop in tomorrow. Ask her about getting a riding skirt or two.”

  “I will take care of the matter tomorrow.” Jemma had already surmised life on the ranch would destroy her wardrobe in short order and planned to acquire a few serviceable dresses.

  Her attention lingered on Thane’s mention of his friend owning the dress shop. She wondered if Maggie had been more than a friend to Thane. Perhaps he’d even been courting the woman before Weston beckoned him to England and he felt forced into marrying her for the sake of the children.

  Concerned she’d come between Thane and the woman he loved, pain stabbed her heart at the thought of him holding affection for another woman. Out of habit, her fingers went to the cameo at her throat. She took a step toward the door, intent on calling Jack inside when Thane spun her around, drawing her closer to him.

  His warm breath blowing across her cheek made her knees languid. She so desperately wanted to sink into his strength and rest in his comforting embrace, just for a moment or two, but that would never do.

  As she raised her gaze to his, she noticed a humorous glint in his eyes. She braced for whatever insult he planned to deliver and stiffened against him.

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” Perplexed, she glared at him.

  “Rub that cameo whenever something bothers you. You wear it more often than not, and if you’ve got it on when something kinks your rope, you go to rubbing it like an ol’ codger with a nugget of gold.”

  “I do no such thing!”

  “Yes, you do. You’re doing it now.” Thane stared at her fingers where they rested on the cameo. After taking her hand in his, he studied the piece of jewelry, noting the detailed craftsmanship.

  Jemma released a sigh. “It belonged to my mother. Jane pinned it on my dress the day after mother’s funeral and I found comfort in it. I suppose I rub it out of habit because it makes her seem closer. I know it’s silly.” Jemma dropped her gaze, embarrassed by her admission.

  “It’s not silly. I’m glad you have it.”

  Numbly nodding her head, Jemma raised her gaze to his and studied him before taking a step toward the door.

  “There’s one more thing we need to discuss.” Thane smirked in the familiar way that both aggravated and excited her as she looked at him again.

  “What might that be?”

  “This…” Thane reached behind her, grabbing her bustle and giving it a gentle tug. She sucked in a gulp of air at his outlandish behavior. “Has got to go.”

  At her abhorrent glare, he let go of the bustle and took a step back, although his grin broadened. “You can’t work on a ranch with that thing flopping around behind you. You can dress however you like when we go into town, but for life on the ranch, you need to put it away. While I’m on that subject, you can’t go around with your corset laced so tight it makes you faint.”

  She glared at him. “I did not faint.”

  “You came darn close and I won’t have you putting your health in danger just to make an already tiny waist smaller. You can wear it, if you insist, just don’t lace it so tight. Since you’re going to be getting new clothes, make sure you get them to fit with the corset loosened.”

  Jemma trembled with fury as she stood in front of him, about to combust with anger. She couldn’t believe he would dare converse about such personal, sensitive topics as her bustle and corset. “You, sir, are a…”

  “Save it, Jem. Unless you can invent some new words to call me, I’ve heard it before.”

  Thane gave her bustle another tug as he walked by, returning outside to where he’d been hammering horseshoes at the forge.

  Chuckling to himself, he recalled the look on her face when he grabbed her bustle. He wondered if she’d heed his words or if he’d get to oversee its removal. Either way, he was bound to be entertained.

  Chapter Fifteen

  From her position on the hard wagon seat next to her husband, Jemma glanced around at the miles of sagebrush-dotted hills surrounding her. As she breathed in the autumn air, she caught a whiff of the pungent plant along with Thane’s scent.

  She wanted to slide closer to him and take another deep breath. Instead, she folded her hands primly on her lap and sat with a stiff posture until the wagon hit another bump and she grasped the wagon seat to keep her balance.

  “You doing okay, Jem?” Thane gave her a concerned glance, but kept both hands on the reins instead of reaching out to her like he wanted to do.

  “I’m very well, thank you. It’s quite a lovely morning, isn’t it?”

  “Lovely,” Thane muttered. His wife put the gorgeous fall day to shame with her creamy complexion, rich auburn hair, twinkling copper eyes, and attractive ensemble. When she stepped out of the cabin that morning wearing an outfit he’d not yet seen in a vibrant shade of cobalt blue, he had to catch his breath.

  A high-necked blouse topped by a jacket embellished with ornate braiding along the edge highlighted a brocade overskirt floating on top of a velvet underskirt. The striking shades of blue made roses bloom in each of Jemma’s cheeks and her lips look invitingly kissable. A deeper blue hat adorned with cobalt plumes and plump silk roses perched at a sassy angle atop her head.

  No doubt, her appearance would set tongues wagging throughout town about his elegant, beautiful bride. Determined to force his attention away from Jemma, he glanced over his shoulder at the children and smiled at
them.

  “Are you two okay?”

  “Yes, Uncle Thane. We’re great,” Jack enthusiastically replied from his spot on the bench in the wagon bed. Thane had Ben help him fasten the bench in the back of the wagon so Jack and Lily had somewhere safe to sit on the long ride into town. He was afraid Lily would topple off the tall wagon seat where he and Jemma sat, and, in truth, he wanted an excuse to have his wife sit with him without one or both children between them.

  “Aren’t you gonna ask about me?” Sam asked with a sly grin as he drove a wagon beside Thane’s.

  “No, I’m not, you ol’ buzzard.” Thane looked at the older man and grinned. Sam agreed to accompany them to town in a second wagon to help haul home supplies. The bunkhouse cupboards needed to be stocked and Thane decided if they were making a trip to town, they might as well make it count.

  “Look how he treats his elders.” Sam smiled at Jemma and waggled a bushy eyebrow. “I don’t care if you’re the one who pays my wages, you should show more respect to those older and wiser than you, boss.”

  “When I meet someone who fits both categories, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Sam snorted and Jemma hid a smile behind her gloved hand. She listened as Thane and Sam discussed the ranch and some of the neighboring ranches as they rolled into town.

  Their first stop was the bank. Sam waited outside with the children as Thane introduced the bank president to his wife. He added her name to his accounts then waited as the man opened an account for her, in her name only.

  Although the banker obviously found the arrangement odd, he refrained from saying anything, especially considering the amount of money Thane recently transferred into the bank.

  While Sam went to the feed store, Thane drove toward Main Street. Jemma and the children stared as the sprinkler wagon rolled by, tossing water on the broad street.

  Shaped like a big wooden barrel, the wagon featured a seat atop on end where old Mr. Bentley sat, driving his lumbering horse up and down the streets in an effort to keep the dust to a minimum. Water dripped out of the wagon, settling the dust.

 

‹ Prev