Captivating Cole

by Cheri Chaise

  “Where am I? Wh…who are you?”

  He didn’t appear bothered by my reaction as he leaned back in the chair at my bedside. “Bret Carston, ma’am…and you’ve been here at the Carston Ranch homestead going on two days now.”

  I glanced around at the hewn log walls. The Carston homestead for two days? I didn’t even remember arriving. I couldn’t help but sigh to know the endless trail ride had come to a blessed end. And before it had even started, I’d had a hurried wedding.

  My wedding!

  To Cole. Hard, angry Cole who pushed us day after day along the dusty trail. Then Evan with his smoking gun that had saved me from the ravaging rogues. And sweet, funny Drew who’d entertained me with endless stories of his adventures in the Montana Territory.

  “You’re the missing brother.” My voice came out raspy. I cleared it as delicately as possible. “I mean, my new brother-in-law.”

  Sumptuous lips quirked up at the edges, and a sparkle twinkled in the kind eyes. “I guess you could say that.”

  The door toward the foot of the bed was closed as my gaze darted around nervously. I was in a bedroom with someone other than my husband.

  He’d left me alone. “May I ask where Cole is?”

  “He’s out with the others, rounding up sheep so we can get on with the shearing bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  I glanced away to hide the sudden tears that clouded my vision. Here I was, taken to bed in my new home, and my brand new husband couldn’t be bothered to care for me. Instead, he’d sent his brother to watch over and look after me. Did I truly repulse Cole so much?

  “Well,” I began after clearing the knot from my throat. “I appreciate your care while I was indisposed. I hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”

  “No more trouble than that foal I had to stay behind for. I was sure sorry to miss your arrival in Fort Union though, but that little one was in a mite of a rush to see his mama.”

  New life had arrived on the ranch. Bret’s words were a boon that brought a smile to my lips. I schooled my features and faced him. I had no need to fear the brother of my husband – and as I looked closer, I saw traces of Cole in Bret’s strong chin and broad shoulders.

  “The foal arrived safely, I hope?”

  He nodded that strong chin. “A bit small and slow to stand, but he’s happily sucking away at his mama’s teats now and will be bigger than the rest eventually, I imagine.” The chair creaked as he stood and towered over the bed. Tall like Cole too, though a bit less brawny. “Hungry?”

  My stomach answered for me. “Perhaps a little.”

  Bret’s smile was unlike Drew’s wide grin. It was slow to reveal itself. Sensuous. Like the languid strokes of a lover. But the wait was worth it when it finally arrived to brighten his face. I shivered at its effect on the parched and arid desert of my soul.

  “You’ll find a dressing gown in there.” He pointed to my trunk nestled beneath the window on the far side of the expansive room. “We had to go through quite a few of your things to find the right one.”

  Heat crept up my neck before he closed the bedroom door. The very idea that someone other than me or my husband had pawed through my personal effects sent the blush straight into my cheeks.

  Gingerly I sat up in the enormous bed, which appeared big enough for four, and took in my surroundings. A beautifully carved table sat beside the bed, topped with various bottles and jars, some of which no doubt had been for my benefit. Long, straight logs comprised the walls of the sturdy home, their symmetry interrupted by the large armoire and dresser.

  A small, cast iron stove took up residence in one corner, a few split logs stacked neatly on the chiseled stone at its feet. Faded yellow, lacy curtains framed the window, below which sat a single trunk.

  I bit my lip to stifle the groan as I inched my stiff body over to the edge of the bed and swung my bare legs over the side. I waited for the spinning room to slow before I moved any further.

  The sheet and pale quilt puddled at my waist and provided a view of the reasoning behind much of my pain. Bruising snaked up and down my naked torso and across my breasts, interrupted only by crusted scabs.

  Mother always said a woman had to suffer to attain the eye of a suitor, but the very idea of lacing myself into a corset again threatened an avalanche of tears until I reminded myself – I no longer sought to find a suitor. I was a married woman.

  A married woman devoid of a husband by her side, a man who couldn’t be bothered to care for his wife and instead sent his brother to tend her wounds.

  I dragged myself across the plank floor then rummaged through my trunk for the aforementioned dressing gown. The soft, green silk was like a balm applied to my tender flesh as I slipped it on then stared out the window across the acreage of my new home.

  Tall pines near the house stretched toward the sky but didn’t impede my ability to see the sheep and cows grazing in the distance until the ground sloped away. Several chickens squawked and chased one another around the corner and out of sight just before a knock sounded against the door.

  “A moment please,” I called, returning to the bed and covering up with the quilt. “Come in.”

  Bret opened the door carrying a tray, which he used to scoot aside the jars and bottles before resting it on the side table. “Do you like anything in your coffee?”

  My brow twitched. “A dollop of cream perhaps?”

  His gaze settled below my neck then dipped lower. “A bit of sugar would probably do you good too.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary,” I replied. “No need to fuss over me.”

  “But you’re my patient.” He handed a steaming mug my way.

  I stopped short of accepting it. “I didn’t realize you were a doctor also. Drew mentioned you were a veterinarian?”

  The edges of his lips tipped downward this time. “Not a formally trained one.”

  “Oh?” I reached for the mug again and took a sip of the rich, sweet ambrosia. A sigh of unadulterated pleasure passed over my lips.

  “But when it comes to animal husbandry and the latest medical news, I enjoy pretty much anything I can get my hands on.”

  Those dark eyes captured mine as our fingertips touched when he handed over a plate of freshly scrambled – and a bit burnt – eggs. But after the hardships I’d endured, I latched onto the many offered kindnesses like a swimmer drowning in the sea.

  I latched onto our apparent common interest too. “So you read then?”

  “Like I said,” he replied, pinning me with a look that said so much more than mere words ever could. “I enjoy anything I can get my hands on.”

  His voice was smooth, and rich. Sweet with honey. It flowed over me like a swallow of heated chocolate after coming in from the depths of winter. After the harsh sting of rejection I felt from my husband’s lack of attention, Bret more than made up for Cole’s neglect.

  The bite of eggs stuck in my throat, and I had to quickly wash it down with a gulp of coffee. “I, uh…brought many books with me. Novels mostly.”

  “I saw.” He leaned over me to grab my now empty cup and refill it. That sweet hay scent filled my nostrils. “I’ll see about clearing out some space on the shelf for you.”

  “That would be very kind.”

  A grin tipped the edges of his lips. “Maybe you could read some out loud to us this winter. You know…when we’re all stuck inside together with little to occupy our evenings.”

  Several books in my collection rose to the forefront of my thoughts as heat flushed my cheeks. Those tomes would be the first to get buried at the bottom of my trunks, never again to see the light of day. If anyone asked me to read those aloud in a roomful of men, I’d be certain to die from utter humiliation.

  Yes, I’d place those particular novels at the bottom of a trunk beneath the bed, reserved only for those occasions when I was alone and in desperate need of release after living in a house full of strong, virile men.

  Especially when it grew apparent with each passi
ng day and my returning strength that my husband had no interest in me or in consummating our marriage.

  Chapter Twenty

  Cole

  The barn reverberated with the constant bleats from the sheep as shearing continued into the third day. The ranch hands we kept on this time of year kept the flow of the flock moving from one end of the barn to the next, while my brothers and I made quick work of removing the thick winter wool fleece.

  Everyone but Bret. He had a more important job to do right now to ensure Stella suffered no permanent harm from my neglect. I shuddered to think what might’ve happened to her if we’d spent one more day on that hot and dusty trail.

  But he was right. Bret was always right when it came to calling me out on my behavior – no matter how much it irritated me when he did so. My focus was always on doing what was best for the ranch. Drive the cattle to market faster. Hire more hands to harvest the fields quicker. Rotate the flocks more often.

  Every decision I made was to make things more efficient so the ranch remained productive. To make our lives that much better. Was it my fault my brothers failed to see that all my decisions, all my work, was for them?

  Sky had understood. It wasn’t until Stella arrived that I realized how much our first wife had softened my hard edges – and how losing her had brought those edges back sharper than ever. I just wished I’d figured it out on my own instead of having my brother point it out to me.

  I straightened up to stretch my back after finishing the last sheep of the day. The newly shorn critter trotted off with the rest, ten pounds lighter and with a new spring in its step from the cooler air caressing its bare skin.

  I could sure use something comforting to cool the rivulets streaming down my bare chest and back. Shearing was stinky, sweaty work, but the measurable evidence of our efforts never failed to brighten the end of a long day.

  Bret sauntered in from the house and handed me a canteen of cold spring water. I gulped greedily while he piled the fleece I’d just cut with the others in the empty milking stall so the hands could finish skirting it tomorrow.

  He wiped his hands on his trousers then pinned me with his deep, brown eyes. “I think she’s ready.”

  I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth before glancing around to make sure we were alone. Mostly. “Already?”

  He nodded then picked up the blade I’d dropped on the ground without any further response.

  My eyes narrowed. “You sure you’re not pushing too hard just because you want to bury your cock in her?”

  “Like you don’t?”

  I left that one alone. “She’s only been home five days…and bedfast most of it.” My stomach clenched all over again because I was the one at fault for that. “We need to go slow. Give her more time to get used to us…used to you most of all.”

  He turned away with a deep breath and hiked his booted foot onto the stall slats. “Seems to me the only one around here who’s bothered by my father’s heritage is you, brother.”

  I nearly stumbled back at the impact of his words. “When have I ever treated you as anything less than my brother, Bret?”

  When he didn’t respond, I positioned myself beside him.

  “When we were kids, wasn’t I the one who came to your defense when one of the hired hands said something against you?”

  He tipped his head my way. “You did.”

  “And who rescued your pretty face from a nasty beating at the saloon when we were in town that time?”

  “He got in a lucky punch, is all.”

  “Who was ready to march into Iowa and bring a few thick-headed administrators down to size when they sent you packing from veterinary school?”

  A hard glint appeared in Bret’s eye for a split second when his head whipped my way. “That would’ve been overkill.”

  “Not the way I see it. Someone rightly deserved to get cut down a notch or two for that shit,” I spat. “They needed to know the Carston family was in your corner.”

  He stabbed the sheering blade into the wood and pushed away from the railing with a sneer – and I don’t think it was from the smell rolling off of me. “Well damn, Cole. I’m ever so grateful to have you in my corner.”

  I ignored the snide tone. “So what’s the problem then?”

  He turned full on me. “The problem is when you tell me to cut my hair so I won’t look so much like the non-Carston side of the family. When you warn me not to spend so much time in the sun so my skin won’t get so much darker than yours. You’re so damned worried about what Estella or anyone else will think about how I’m different from you, Evan, and Drew. I just never realized you saw our differences so much…or were bothered by them.”

  My maw hung open as I gaped at my brother. I wanted to reach out to him and clamp a reassuring hand on his shoulder. But from the anger – and hurt – on his face, I knew my gesture would be lost in that moment.

  And I couldn’t deny his words either. The truth of them was like a splash of cold water in winter. I’d been so worried about how Stella might see him – that she might reject my dearest brother – that I’d gone and done exactly what others had.

  Disrespected him – and no one disrespected a Carston. Not even me.

  I only hoped my stupidity hadn’t completely damaged the camaraderie we’d always known. “I…I guess after a lifetime of trying to protect you from the barbs of others, I failed to realize I was targeting you with them myself. I’m truly sorry, brother.”

  Shoulders relaxed in acceptance before he strolled over, plucked the shearing blades from the wood, then flipped them around and held them out to me. No other words were needed on the subject. But the blades poised right near his heart were a visual reminder of the hurt caused him that I’d never forget.

  And never repeat.

  “Which brings me back to the wife situation,” Bret said, brushing aside my idiocy. “I’d like to start grooming her by pairing up that new stallion you bought so she can watch over the mating with me. That way I can see how she responds to an overt sexual gesture.”

  “Who? Stella or the mare?”

  My quip brought out the tiniest of a twitch that tipped up one edge of my brother’s mouth. Yeah, everything was good again between us.

  “If Essie has even a hint of the fire I suspect is in her belly, the sight of that hung stallion rearing up and planting himself in the mare should bring it out.”

  “But do you really think that’ll stoke it enough for her to consider all of us?”

  “After all that time together on the trail, are you really so blind, brother?” He sighed, long and deep. “That incredible creature is starved for affection. She standing on a precipice so sharp that even the smallest show of regard will likely send her tumbling skirts-up right over the edge.”

  I thought back over the journey from Fort Union. Stella had taken to Drew and his never-ending stories by spending most of the trip by his side, even when we’d stopped for the night before climbing into her bedrool. There was also that moment of utter terror that had morphed into a split second of pure adoration when Evan had shot her would-be molester.

  Which was what probably sent the rest of those bastards trailing home after us. They probably thought they’d have a shot to reclaim what they thought of as their lost prize.

  Well tough shit. No one was going to bed Stella ever again.

  Except a Carston.

  “Just take it easy on her then,” I cautioned. “After all, you know best how to train a skittish filly.”

  Bret chuckled and slapped my back. Brothers again, we strode out of the barn together into the refreshing calm of the July evening. I searched down the fencing that lined the road into the distance.

  Bret followed my gaze – and as usual knew right what I was thinking. “Do you believe they’re still out there?”

  I shook my head. “Evan hasn’t mentioned anything when he’s come in during the night…but that doesn’t mean they aren’t still watching us out there. Somewhere. Waiti
ng for us to let our guard down.”

  “You’d think if they wanted Essie, their best chance would’ve been to try and take her on the trail.”

  “We kept a solid vigil. Anyone out here with half a brain knows not to fuck with Evan.”

  “Fucking Evan isn’t who they have in mind,” Bret needlessly reminded. “Do you think we should gather all the hands and establish a nightly watch?”

  I shook my head. “Word’ll get around to Stella, and I don’t want to frighten her right now, especially after what happened at Fort Union.”

  “I’d think after what you said happened at the fort, she’d understand the need to at least be vigilant.”

  “Maybe…but whoever’s out there knows she’s here. I’ve a feeling they won’t make a move until Evan heads out again this fall for the trapping season.”

  Bret kicked at the dust near the outdoor pens and noted reactions as the cows stirred away. “In the meantime, we can keep our eyes and ears open and watch for changes in the behavior of the animals. They’ll be our first indicator if anyone strange comes lurking around.”

  I nodded my agreement. “Speaking of animals, when did you plan to start the new stallion’s mating process?”

  “I figured I’d bring him over to the adjoining stall tonight and see how Nightmare responds to him. But he’s still a bit keyed up for the actual mating right now. I don’t want him biting her or anything.”

  “Nightmare’s the one, huh?”

  “I always wanted to see if I could get a true black from her someday.”

  I pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Well then, get that stallion mounted on her as soon as possible, and you just might get your wish.”

  And if it didn’t work with the horses, I had no doubt that with Stella’s and my brother’s dark hair, he’d eventually find satisfaction – one way or another.

  Regardless of how badly I wanted a child of my own, I just wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to risk losing one.

  Again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Estella