by Jodi Thomas
“If you had my place, what would you do with it?”
He thought she must be as starved for conversation as he, so he answered, “I’d farm that spot by the road. If you planted grain, you could harvest enough to have a good cash crop by fall. Along the back, where it looks rocky, you could run a few head of cattle, or sheep.”
“Which would you run?”
“Cattle probably. There looks like enough grass to fatten them up then mix them in with a passing trail drive. With the price of beef, you could double your money in a year.”
“How many could you keep up with and still farm the front?” She stared at him directly as if truly needing to know.
“You want me to work for you?” Brody raised an eyebrow. No one since the war had offered him work he hadn’t had to fight to get. Working for her would mean long days, but it just might bring him a bit of the peace he’d been longing for since the war.
“No.” She held herself very still. “I’m offering you a partnership that would include marriage. We’ll live together here for a year. After that, if we don’t get along, I’ll move to town. I will remain your wife if you’ve no objections, but we’ll live our lives out just as we’d both planned to, alone. I’ll ask nothing from you but your name and expect nothing in return except for a share of the profits from this place if there ever are any.”
“But I have nothing to offer in this deal. In a year I’ve only managed to save a couple hundred dollars.”
“Of course you do, Mr. Monroe. You offer your work, your knowledge, and we may need that money you’ve saved to buy the cows.” She pressed her lips together and added, “If you live, you’ll offer me acceptance in the community, and if you don’t, I doubt I could be much worse off.”
“You want to marry me to get rid of some stupid curse?”
“No, I want to marry you because you, not me, might make this farm pay. All I want to do is be able to live without people staring at me.”
He still didn’t believe her. “Why me?”
“You’re smart. You’re a hard worker. You treat me with respect, and you’re not afraid of me. In other words, you’ll do.” She offered her unbandaged hand. “Do we have a deal, Mr. Monroe?”
She had no idea how badly she’d hurt him by saying he’d do, but she was offering him a chance at a dream and he’d be a fool if he didn’t take it. “It’s a deal.”
They stood for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Brody looked out over the land and thought half of this spread was more than he’d ever hoped for. Since he’d been a kid and lost his home when his parents died, all he’d ever hoped to have was a piece of land. She was offering him so much more. A year. She said she’d stay with him a year. And for that time he’d have the closest thing to a home and family that he’d had in almost fifteen years.
She moved to the back door of her place. “You might as well come in, Mr. Monroe. I’ll fix you some lunch while we talk. We’ve a great many plans to make before this deal is done.”
He followed her in, looking at everything in a different light. She made him a simple meal that beat anything he’d had at the Double R. He made a list of all that needed doing. Now that they’d made up their minds, there was no sense in waiting. It was already time to get the ground ready to plant.
When she saw his empty plate, she laughed.
“I’ll be fatter than the cows by fall if you always cook like that, Mrs. Allen.”
“You could carry a little more weight. Once I know what you like, I’ll adjust my baking schedule.”
“I like everything,” he answered, “except grits. That’s all that was usually left over in the main kitchen.”
“I’ll never cook grits.”
As simple as that, they began a pact. When the sun came out, Brody walked the land making notes of all he’d have to do to make this a productive farm. The buildings were in good shape, but the fences had been neglected. He’d use some of his money to buy supplies for fencing first, before he bought cattle.
As he walked around, he slipped twice on the muddy ground and knew he’d be sore for a few days but that didn’t matter. By taking the bargain the widow offered, he’d be working his own land.
When he finally made it back to the house, she was waiting on the porch. They rode into town and were married by the preacher with her papa and the preacher’s wife as the only wedding guests.
When the preacher told Brody to kiss the bride, he kissed her as he had the first night in the darkness. Only this time, his lips brushed over her lips as lightly as they’d touched her forehead before.
She smiled up at him, looking as unsure about this rash thing they’d just done as he felt.
At the bank she had his name put on the deed to her land as well as all her accounts in town, and he deposited his money into what had been her account. Most of the people were speechless to see the widow with a third husband. A few even mumbled that they’d be attending a funeral soon.
“Promise me you’ll try your best to stay around,” she whispered.
“I’ll do my best,” he said as he tried his best not to limp from the fall he’d suffered a few hours before. If he could make it through the war, surely he could survive marriage.
The sun was touching the horizon when he headed over to the Double R to pick up his gear. Boss and Mrs. Molly Clair were eating supper when he knocked. The boss looked angry to be bothered, and when Brody explained that he was leaving, Boss Ramsey looked downright mad.
Mrs. Molly Clair seemed pleased and promised them a wedding gift.
Brody collected his things and rode out. He’d planned to say good-bye to Caleb, but all the men were eating, so he just loaded all he owned on the back of his saddle and rode away. So few of the cowboys ever talked to him, he didn’t figure they’d miss him much.
For the first time in years he couldn’t wait to see what the next day brought. It didn’t matter that Valerie thought he was just a you’ll do husband; he planned to do his best to make the place something they’d both be proud of.
Chapter 4
When he rode in, Brody saw his new wife in the kitchen window. They might have signed the papers, but he didn’t feel an ounce’s worth of married. She was still very much a stranger to him.
He put his horse in the barn and spent an hour putting all the tools in order and adding things that needed doing to his now long list. She might keep a good house but it was obvious she spent only minimum time in the barn. The milk cows’ stalls were clean but most of the leather gear in the place looked like it had never been cleaned or oiled. That might explain why the reins had cut her hand.
When he stepped on a shovel and hit himself in the knee with the handle, he thought the blade rusty until he turned it to the light and saw what looked like dried blood. Some animal, or someone, had been hit hard, and whoever swung the shovel hadn’t bothered to clean the blade. If the tool had been used by his wife, he decided she probably had good reason.
Brody blew out the lantern and stood at the barn door looking toward the house. He realized he knew few facts about this woman he now shared half of everything with. One thing he was sure of, she needed him. If she could have done it on her own, he knew she would have, but she’d been just surviving. Without help, ten years from now she’d still be delivering milk and eggs in town to try to make a living. By marrying him, she was giving herself a chance for more. And, he decided, she was giving him a chance at life, maybe the first one he’d ever really had. No matter what happened, for that he’d be grateful.
He’d do his best to always be kind to her. It didn’t matter how hard the work was, this place, this life promised to be better than any he’d had. Just watching her move, he decided, gave him more pleasure than he’d had in years.
When he walked into the kitchen, everything was in order as if closed up for the night. Brody wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never gone deeper into the house, and he wasn’t certain he should without an invitation.
“Valer
ie?” he said her name for the first time.
“Yes,” she answered as she appeared in the doorway.
He stared at her. She had on a long midnight blue robe over a white nightgown, and her hair was down, touching just past her waist. He finally said the first thing that seemed reasonable. “Where do I put my things?”
She moved across the kitchen and picked up the lantern. “Follow me.”
They crossed through a parlor, well organized and clean. He looked to his left and saw a small study with a desk and one chair. Behind the desk was a whole wall of books. He couldn’t help stopping and staring.
She waited. “You like to read?”
“I do.” He took a step in, wanting to make sure all the books were real.
“My father never knew what to buy me for Christmas or my birthday after my mother died when I was eight, so he always bought me books. They’ve become my treasures. This winter, when there’s not much to do, you’re welcome to read any you like.”
“Thanks.”
“In fact, please consider this little study yours. I’ve noticed you writing things down. If you like, I’ll get you more paper and a ledger to keep here on your desk.”
“I’d like that.” He brushed his hand over what she’d called his desk.
He would have said more, but she moved on as she said, “Now, as to where to put your things.”
She led him to a bedroom with a double bed, a wardrobe, and a dresser. This room, like the parlor, looked almost too bare to be lived in. No pictures or needlework on the walls. No keepsakes sitting on the dresser. Every surface had lace across it, but the room seemed colorless. It reminded him of her dressed in black, very proper but without warmth.
“There’s a washroom just beyond with a few pegs if you want to use them. I cleaned out half the dresser and half the wardrobe for your things, but if you need more, we could put more shelves in the washroom.”
He could see a basket of what looked like her things by the door. “I only need a few drawers of the dresser and none of the wardrobe. The laundry in town always folds all my clothes.”
“If that’s the way you like them, I’m fine with it.” She pulled out her brush from the top drawer and walked to the window as if she could see something out in the night. “There is no lock on the washroom door. I hope we can both respect each other’s privacy. It wouldn’t be proper to ever see one’s spouse undressed. Since we’ve only one bedroom, I think we should both use the washroom for changing.”
“Agreed.”
Brody realized he’d have to cross her bedroom to get to the washroom. “Where do I sleep?” He’d seen all the rooms, and none looked big enough to add another bed.
“With me,” she answered without looking at him. “You are my husband.” She began braiding her hair without facing him.
About ten thousand questions popped in his thoughts, but he decided it might be wise to keep quiet. He moved to the washroom and closed the door. This had all happened so fast he hadn’t had time to think about more than the farm. Not that he hadn’t thought of sleeping with her someday, but she seemed to think they could sleep together without ever seeing each other. All he could figure out was maybe she meant just sleep.
When he washed and stripped down to his long johns, he opened the door to the bedroom to find her already in bed.
“You don’t wear a nightshirt?” she whispered as she turned toward him.
“No,” he answered, wondering if he should offer to start.
He slowly moved to the other side and slipped beneath the covers, and then he lay on his back and tried to think of something to say. He felt like he’d stepped into a game of chess covered in black velvet. He not only didn’t know where to move, he didn’t even know where the pieces were on the board.
Finally, she said in little more than a whisper, “I’ve been a wife twice before. I know what to expect and I understand men have needs. I ask that you never embarrass me by going to another woman’s bed.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” he answered. “No matter what is or isn’t between us, I swear I’d never do that.”
He saw her nod. After a long pause, she added, “All you have to do is tell me to lift my gown and I will without protest, but try not to touch me any more than necessary and please move away so I can lower my gown when you are finished. I’ll try not to make a sound and I ask that you do the same.”
Turning slightly, he looked at her outline beside him. He’d never been married, but he had a feeling this wasn’t quite right. Maybe it was because they hadn’t taken the time to court. He thought of following orders, but Brody had spent his life following orders. If he was going to be an equal partner, it was time to start. He might as well know all her rules tonight. “If I touch you like that, Valerie, there is the possibility of children.”
“I think not. I’ve been through mating several times. My first husband insisted on it once a week and he would tolerate no protest. The second husband did it to me both nights after we were married. I think the chances are good I’ll never have children. My mother was forty before she had me.” He could tell she was nervous, and he thought he heard a touch of fear in her voice.
She’d always been honest with him, and he hoped she would be now. “Did you love your husbands?”
“That didn’t seem important, but no.” She was silent for a moment, then added, “Have you ever loved anyone?”
“I thought I did once.” He rolled on his side toward her. “Why don’t we start the partnership out by being friends? Real friends. The kind of friends who trust one another.”
She turned her face and he saw her smile in the moonlight. He lifted his arm. “How about hugging me? After having a couple of your hugs, lady, I find I’ve grown accustomed to them.”
Slowly, she came up against him.
“Is that so bad?”
He felt her shake her head. “No,” she answered. “It’s nice, I think.”
“Now,” he said as he moved his fingers over her hair. “Go to sleep. We’ve got a full day tomorrow.”
She let out a long breath, but he knew she took a long time relaxing against him. When she finally did, he tugged her closer and smiled, liking the feel of her so near more than he’d liked anything in a long time.
Chapter 5
Just before dawn Valerie woke and cuddled against the warmth of a man’s body beside her. For a moment she didn’t want to wake; then she realized she was in bed with Brody Monroe. Yesterday the rain must have made her crazy. Somehow the heavens’ opening up washed out all the emotion she’d been banking for years and all she wanted was someone to be with, someone to count on, someone to trust.
Holding her breath, she climbed out of bed and tiptoed to the kitchen, carrying her robe and slippers with her. As she dressed and started the fire, she thought of how insane she’d been yesterday to offer him marriage. He would have come to work for her if she’d asked; maybe he would have even waited to be paid until fall. She had nothing against the man, he seemed polite and strong, but she couldn’t believe she’d married him.
Maybe she was just tired of being out here alone, or maybe she hated seeing every man in town cross the street when they saw her coming. When she’d seen him being treated pretty much the same way by everyone, she felt somehow kin to him. Or, she reconsidered, maybe she was just tired of talking to herself and the cows.
As she started breakfast, the realization that she’d slept with him settled into her mind. She’d slept with him and he hadn’t lifted her gown like the other two husbands had. Maybe there was something wrong with him.
As she pulled the biscuits out of the oven, she looked up and saw him standing, fully dressed, in the doorway. This new husband of hers wasn’t handsome, not with his sharp features and hauntingly dark eyes. There seemed nothing soft about him, nothing flexible. Yet he’d held her gently last night, almost as if he could protect her from the world.
“Morning.” He smiled slightly. “Did you sleep all right?”
/>
“Fine.” She blushed, remembering the feel of his body next to hers. “Have a seat. Breakfast is almost ready.”
He sat watching her as she brought everything to the table, and then he stood halfway up as she took her seat. They ate in silence, neither seeming to feel any need to force conversation.
He stood and reached for his hat. “That was a grand breakfast. You’re a good cook, Valerie.”
“Thank you,” she said, following him to the door. She couldn’t help wondering how bad the cooks he knew in the past were if he considered her good.
He turned toward her as he took one step onto the porch. “There’s a few things you need to know. I’ll work until the sun’s straight up, then I’ll come in if I’ve time. I don’t expect a meal on the table, but would appreciate it if you’d leave bread where I can find it. That and buttermilk is more than I usually have at midday. Or I like coffee if it’s cold. I will come in by dark and I’ll be hungry. If I’m later than you like to eat, just leave the food on the stove. I’ll find it.”
“Fair enough.” She smiled. “Only supper will always be when you get in. No matter how late, I’ll wait and eat when you do.”
“And one more thing,” he added slowly. “I expect to kiss my wife before I leave every morning, so if you’ve any objections, you should voice them now.”
She didn’t say a word as they stepped out on the porch. After putting on his hat, Brody leaned over and touched his lips to hers. Valerie told herself a kiss from a man she barely knew was not something she welcomed yet, but if it was important enough for him to mention, she would tolerate it without complaint.
To her surprise, Brody’s kiss was more than tolerable.
Laughter sounded from several feet away, making them both jump. She took a step back and Brody moved in front of her. Protecting her again, she thought. The morning sun was in her eyes, but she saw two men on horseback coming toward them.
“Hell, Montie,” one said, “I told you it was true. The widow married and looks like husband number three survived the night.”
