by Regina Scott
Nancy led his sisters into the room she and Hank had been given. She was glad she’d tidied up a little before going to dinner so that his sisters at least had a place to sit.
“You don’t mind the intrusion, do you?” Judith asked as she arranged her skirts around her on the bed.
“After all, you are still newlyweds,” Mira agreed, perching on the chest.
“Though you don’t act like any newlyweds I know,” Missy said, flopping down on the other side of the bed and lifting her legs to stretch them out on the red-white-and-blue quilt. “I heard Hank tell Mother he intended to sleep in the parlor.”
While her older sisters exchanged glances and Nancy’s face heated, Missy frowned at her. “Did he do something boneheaded or are you still pining for your first husband?”
“Missy,” Judith scolded before Nancy could answer. “It’s really none of our affair.”
“Why not?” Missy asked with a puzzled frown. “We’re family.”
“Only recently,” Mira reminded her. Then she turned to Nancy. “I’m sorry we assumed, dear.”
Though Nancy went to sit next to Judith on the bed, she felt as if a gulf had opened between her and Hank’s sisters. They were right; they were family. She’d told Hank she wanted no more secrets. Surely, she should follow her own advice.
“No apology necessary,” she told them. “You see, Hank and I married to save the ranch. My first husband had mortgaged it without my knowledge, and the bank didn’t have faith that I could manage it on my own. Hank offered to marry me. He would run the ranch while teaching me more about ranching, and he’d be father to my baby.”
Missy sighed, blue eyes softening as she lay her head back on the pillow. “Such a romantic, our Hank.”
“That was well done of him,” Mira agreed.
“But I don’t see any reason why the two of you can’t be husband and wife,” Judith protested, glancing between her sisters as if for support. Both Missy and Mira nodded.
“Well,” Nancy said, finding it hard to meet their concerned gazes, “he doesn’t love me.”
Judith waved a hand. “That’s hardly an insurmountable problem.”
“Certainly not,” Mira said. “It only took me a month to convince John he couldn’t live without me.”
Missy snorted. “A month? Please! I had Ernesto eating out of my hand in a week.”
“Some of us take our time,” Judith replied with an arched look to her sister.
“Some of us are too high in the instep, you mean,” Missy shot back.
“I don’t understand,” Nancy interrupted. “You can’t make someone fall in love with you, can you?”
“Not if they don’t care to begin with,” Judith acknowledged.
“But Hank cares,” Mira assured Nancy. “We can see it in his eyes.”
“And in the way he treats you,” Judith added. “We know our brother, Nancy. He’s already halfway in love with you. We just need to convince him to let go and give love a chance.”
Missy made a face. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You know why he’s so gun-shy.”
“Missy,” Judith warned.
Missy rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Judith, you have no idea what a woman needs to know about her husband.” She sat up and turned to Nancy. “Hank was in love once, with a girl here. She broke his heart. It never mended.”
“Now, Missy,” Mira said, “we don’t know it never mended. He’s been away for five years.”
Missy pointed a finger at her sister. “Well, he never came home until now. That ought to tell you something.”
It certainly told Nancy something. He hadn’t wanted to talk much about the girl he’d nearly married. At times, he seemed to be guarding his heart from further hurt. Nancy could understand that; she’d done the same thing. But was he any more willing to let go of his first love now?
“The fact that he came home with Nancy ought to tell us all something,” Judith countered beside her. “I do believe he has feelings for you, Nancy. You just have to encourage them.”
Could she? Should she? Was she ready to open her heart again?
She must have taken too long to respond, for she caught the three sisters exchanging glances once more.
“Oh, dear,” Mira said. “It seems we’ve assumed yet again.”
Missy glowered at Nancy. “Don’t you want Hank to fall in love with you? He’s a fine fellow.”
“Missy,” Judith said, exasperation in each syllable.
Missy turned her frown on her sister. “Well, he is! Any gal would be proud to have him beside her.”
“Hank is beside her,” Mira reminded her. “They’re married.”
Missy shook her head. “Marriage, real marriage, means more than working side by side. It’s loving and striving and hurting and healing and laughing and praying. Otherwise, you’re just two people playing house.”
“Never mind her,” Judith said. “You must do as you see fit, Nancy.”
As she saw fit. She had doubted her ability to understand people, to recognize their true nature. She had realized she needed to learn enough to run a ranch. She had wondered how she might contribute to the Little Horn community.
When it came to what she wanted from her marriage, she knew.
“Missy’s right,” she told Hank’s sisters.
“Of course, I am,” Missy said with a lift of her nose.
Nancy hid a smile. “Marriage is about sharing everything, the good and the bad, the triumphs and disappointments. I want that for Hank and me. I love him.”
Missy applauded while Judith and Mira beamed.
“And I’m certain he just needs a little help to return that love,” Judith said.
Nancy’s certainty, flying as high as a hawk, suddenly dipped. “What sort of help?”
Missy nudged her with her foot. “You know. Use your woman’s wiles.”
Nancy stiffened. “I won’t trick him. That’s not right.”
Mira rose, grace and determination personified. “No one will trick anyone. That’s no way to build a marriage.”
“And there’s no need,” Judith agreed, rising, as well. “In fact, all we need do is gild the lily.”
Missy pushed herself off the bed. “Lilies are for funerals. Besides, I think Hank should be the one to pick the posies.”
Judith stared at her. “Were we even raised in the same house?”
“Ladies.” Mira’s stern look silenced both her sisters. She turned to Nancy. “Consider us your advisors, dear. We can tell you everything about our brother.”
“His favorite foods,” Judith suggested.
“His favorite colors,” Mira offered.
“His favorite horse,” Missy put in. She rubbed her hands. “Oh, this will be fun.”
Baby Ben did a little dance of excitement as if he couldn’t wait either.
Nancy stood as well, meeting each of their eager gazes in turn. “Very well, ladies. I’ll do it. Tell me how to encourage Hank to fall in love with me.”
* * *
Hank found all three of his brothers-in-law in deep discussion out by the corral closest to the house. Inside the wood rail fence, he could see a solid quarter horse trotting about under Tommy’s watchful eye. The moon had risen, full and fat, casting a silver glow over the space. The cool breeze bathed Hank’s face.
“Kicked you out, did they?” Red commented as Hank walked up to where the men stood by the fence, looking over the boy and horse inside.
“My sisters said they wanted to get to know Nancy better,” Hank answered.
John shook his head. “They’re plotting against us. You wait and see.”
Red nodded. “Tomorrow we’ll be roped into some family hoo-haw.”
“Or set to watch the little ones while they go to town,
” Ernesto added with a shudder.
His complaint didn’t fool Hank. Missy had always been the most determined of his sisters, willful, but the day she’d met Ernesto Rodrigues, she had met her match. And his sister’s love had softened the brash vaquero into a true family man. The fact of the matter was that all his sisters had married men of character. He thought the pairs evenly yoked.
“I wouldn’t mind spending more time with your pack,” Hank told Ernesto.
“You say that now,” Ernesto warned.
Red clapped Hank on the shoulder. “Don’t let him tease you. Being a father is the best thing that can happen to a man.” He nodded to his Tommy, who had walked up to the horse and was stroking its nose. “Tom is my pride and joy. I know that baby will steal your heart too.”
“He already has,” Hank said with a smile.
“He,” John scoffed. “I thought it was going to be a boy too, both times, and then I got my beauties.”
Ernesto propped a tooled-leather boot up on the lowest rung of the fence. “I knew my boys were coming. Just as I know this one will be a señorita.”
Red snorted. “I can’t tell whether a calf is going to be a heifer or a steer. I doubt anyone knows for sure about human babies.”
“Nancy thinks it’s going to be a boy,” Hank explained. “Her mother was a midwife and taught her about such things.” He leaned his elbows on the rough rail. “But I don’t care. Boy or girl, I aim to love the little one.”
“And maybe his mama?” Red joked.
Hank wasn’t ready to discuss his feelings for Nancy with anyone, particularly not his brothers-in-law. He pushed off the fence. “So, what’s all this about Pa? No one seems able to answer my questions. What’s wrong with him, and how bad is it?”
They sobered.
“Tommy!” Red called. “Take her inside.”
Tommy obediently picked up the bridle and headed for the barn. Only when he was safely out of hearing did the big man turn to the others and nod permission to speak. The fact that he didn’t want his son to listen to this part of their conversation sent a chill through Hank.
“Henry is sicker than he wants us to believe,” John volunteered. “And he won’t tell anyone the truth. Mira offered to go with him to see the doctor in Waco, and he refused.”
“That sounds like Pa on the best of days,” Hank protested.
“But he doesn’t eat enough to keep a bird alive,” Red complained. “He stays in his room most days, from what I hear.”
“And he gave me much of the responsibility for the ranch,” Ernesto added. “I do not like it. I learned long ago that I work better when someone else does the planning.”
“Plans are easy,” Hank told him. “I’ve had them for years, but Pa didn’t want to hear about them. He’d already arranged my life, down to where I’d live and who I’d marry.”
“Mary Ellen Wannacre,” Red remembered with a smile. “Now, there was a fine filly.”
“A most beautiful señora,” Ernesto allowed. “Then and now with three children.”
Three babies? Good for Mary Ellen and Adam. “I hope they’re happy,” Hank said, surprised to find the words easier to say.
“You’ll have a chance to see for yourself,” Red predicted. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. I expect you’ll be joining us for services in Waco.”
His stomach gave a decided lurch. He’d left Waco five years ago because he couldn’t face his father’s disdain. Truth be told, he’d felt nearly as uncomfortable facing Adam and his bride. He wasn’t sure what he felt now.
“You still go all the way into Waco for church?” Hank asked, nudging them away from the topic of his lost love. “I’d have thought Pa would have convinced a preacher to relocate out this way by now.”
“Your Pa is a big supporter of the pastor in Waco,” John said, tone appropriately pious.
“Particularly after Mira threw him over for John,” Red added with a laugh. “Guess keeping the Snowden family in the congregation was the consolation prize.”
Hank glanced between Red and John. He could see Ernesto watching them with similar interest.
“Is that how it happened?” Hank asked.
Red cocked his head while John gazed at the moon, all innocence.
“You don’t remember?” Red asked Hank.
“I suppose I wasn’t paying that much attention,” Hank admitted. “I was too young to understand when Judith and you were courting. I was fourteen when Mira met John, and I was too busy trying to figure out the attraction between boys and girls to pay attention to my sister’s courtship.”
John winked at him. “I’ll tell you all about it, once you’ve had a daughter or two of your own and can appreciate your father’s point of view.”
They all chuckled at that.
Tommy stuck his head out of the barn. “Can I come out now, Pa? I’m old enough to hear about the attraction between boys and girls.”
“We’re done talking,” Red said, more to his brothers-in-law than his son, and even in the moonlight Hank could see that he was turning as dark a red as his hair.
Hank spoke awhile longer with his nephew, praising him for skill and patience in training the horse, then headed back to the house. He couldn’t remember ever talking with his brothers-in-law like that, but then things had been more strained when he’d lived on the Double H. Now these men treated him like an equal for all they’d watched him grow up. Why was it his father couldn’t see him as a man? He was certainly older than Tommy! And he knew exactly why boys were attracted to girls.
He didn’t hear any voices or giggles as he approached the closed door of the bedroom. Had his sisters gone? Had Nancy changed for bed? He should have found a way to explain to his mother that his and Nancy’s marriage was unconventional. As it was, she’d accepted his excuse about sleeping in the parlor to give Nancy more room in the bed. At least his mother’s settee was longer than the one in the hotel in Burnet. He might still be able to stand without groaning come morning. Now he just had to collect his shaving kit before he headed for the parlor.
The door opened just then, and Missy swayed out into the hallway. With her came the scent of roses, bringing back memories of the garden his mother had so lovingly tended behind the house. His sister grinned when she saw Hank.
“Everything’s ready for you, little brother,” she said. “Sweet dreams.”
Bemused, he passed her to enter the room.
His sisters had evidently settled Nancy for bed, because she was sitting against the headboard with the covers pulled up to her chin, as prim and proper as his mother could hope. But it was her hair that caught his attention. Unbound, it draped about her like a satin cape, shining in the lamplight.
“Did you have a nice visit with your brothers-in-law?” she asked.
Hank forced his gaze away and went to his bag. “We talked some. How did things go with my sisters?”
“They have some interesting ideas,” she said as he shucked off his coat. He glanced up to find her sitting up higher in the bed and gazing at him wide-eyed.
“Do you want me to leave for a moment so you can change?” she asked.
Hank grinned at her. “No need. I sleep in my clothes often enough on the trail. I figured I’d just take off my coat, boots and belt, and I’d be fine.”
“Oh.” She settled back against the headboard. The covers slid a little, giving him a glimpse of a high-collared flannel nightgown. It was the color of bluebonnets, his favorite flower. He ought to buy her a dress that color, maybe a hat with the flower on it.
What was he thinking?
He wadded up his coat and shoved it into the bag, determined only to quit the room and shake off these feelings.
“Would you put out the lamp before you go?” she asked.
He glanced her way. Her gaze was wistful,
as if all she wanted was for him to step closer. His feet seemed to think that a fine idea, because they were moving before his brain registered the fact. He walked to the table near the bed and bent over the flame. The movement put his gaze on a level with hers. She bit her lip watching him. Such pretty lips, warm, sweet.
Hank straightened. “Maybe you should put out the lamp after I leave. I’ll need to see my way to the door.”
“Yes, of course. You’re right.” Her voice was soft and sweet as she lowered her gaze.
But something was wrong. That feeling was coming over him. He’d disappointed her for some reason. He hated disappointing people.
“What’s wrong, Nancy?” he asked. “Did my sisters say something to concern you?”
She sighed. “No. It’s me. I’m not very good at this.”
“At what?” he asked with a frown.
Still, she kept her gaze on the quilt, fingers picking at the striped patterns. “Your sisters gave me all kinds of advice on how to make myself more attractive to you, but I just can’t do it.”
“Whoa, there.” Hank sat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to do anything to make yourself more attractive. I reckon you’re one of the prettiest girls in Texas.”
Her smile trembled on her lips as she shot a glance his way. “That’s so sweet of you to say. But you told me Mary Ellen Wannacre was beautiful.”
“She was,” Hank agreed, puzzled by her attitude. “So’s the river when the sun is rising. So’s the sound of a mother singing her baby to sleep. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, I...” She drew in a breath as if making a decision, then glanced up at him again. “I wish you thought I was that beautiful too.”
He could see what it had cost her to admit that. Her cheeks were flaming, and her head immediately ducked. He put a finger under her chin and returned her gaze to his.
“I reckon if I thought you were any more beautiful, they’d have to lasso me to keep me back,” he said. Then he bent his head and kissed her.
Chapter Nineteen
At the sweet pressure of Hank’s lips against hers, joy, delight and hope burst inside Nancy like poppies opening to the sun. She slipped her arms about him, feeling the strength of him, the surety. This closeness was what she’d yearned for, what she needed. She never wanted to let go.
