Rose_Bride of Colorado

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Rose_Bride of Colorado Page 5

by Margery Scott


  Taking her hand, he moved away from the table. “Are you ready to go home?” he asked.

  Rose took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Chapter 4

  Charlie helped Rose into the buggy and waited until she was settled before climbing up himself.

  “Charlie!”

  Charlie swore, feeling his jaw tense and a knot form in his stomach. He’d hoped to get Rose out of town before he’d have to deal with Eugenie, but it looked like he wasn’t that lucky.

  He stepped down and turned toward the angry voice, waiting. Even as he watched Eugenie marching down the boardwalk toward them, out of the corner of his eye he saw Rose shift in the seat to see who was calling out his name.

  Eugenie’s face was a mask of fury as she approached, her gaze sliding over Rose before she stopped in front of him. Strange, he thought. I thought she was beautiful, once, but now …

  Charlie’s grip on the buggy tightened, his gaze flitting from Eugenie to Rose and back again. “Good morning, Eugenie.”

  Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned, and before he knew what was happening, she raised her hand and slapped his face. Hard.

  Rose gasped. Then, apparently remembering that Rose was a witness to her outburst, Eugenie slid a condescending glance in her direction. Her eyes raked over Rose, her lips barely containing a sneer. “This is her?”

  A flush of color heated Charlie’s face. “Eugenie,” he said, his voice gruff. “This is Rose.”

  “You actually married her?”

  “I did.”

  Eugenie turned her attention back to him. Her mouth pinched, and her eyes grew hard. “You shouldn’t have done that, Charlie.”

  Then she leaned in close to Rose. Her voice was low and gravelly. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

  Then she spun on her heel and stormed away. Charlie’s gaze followed Eugenie until she disappeared into the mercantile.

  “Charlie?” Rose’s voice was hesitant, but curious.

  He climbed into the buggy and picked up the reins. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “But—”

  “Please, Rose. Not now.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew he was being unfair to Rose. Naturally she’d want an explanation about what had just happened, but he couldn’t. Not right now. Guilt washed over him, both for how he’d treated Rose and also the rejection – and embarrassment – Eugenie would have to deal with. He’d never wanted to hurt her, but really, it was their parents who were at fault for practically forcing them together until it was expected that they’d marry at some point.

  He flicked the reins and the buggy began to move down the street.

  “Excuse me?” Her tone was curt, and very annoyed.

  He glanced over at Rose, her back ramrod-straight. A tinge of pink flushed her face, and her eyes blazed. “Ours may not be a traditional marriage, but I am now your wife and I have every right to be curious about another woman in your life, even if you do deny having any feelings for her.”

  They were at the edge of town by then. Charlie drew the horses to a stop. Forcing a lighter tone into his voice, he smiled sheepishly at Rose. “You’re absolutely right, and we will talk about it, but can we wait until we get to the ranch?”

  “Well …”

  “Please? Let’s try to forget about Eugenie for a little while and enjoy the sunshine and the scenery. It’s a beautiful day.”

  For a few seconds, it looked like she was going to argue, but finally, she huffed out a breath and folded her hands in her lap. “Of course.”

  * * *

  Leaving the town behind, Rose made a concentrated effort to put Eugenie out of her mind. Snow-tipped mountains rose in the distance, their craggy peaks a sharp contrast to the cloudless blue sky. Coming from Massachusetts, Rose had never seen mountains, and she was amazed by their size. “Oh, Charlie, I’d love to see them up close one day,” she murmured. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to climb to the top and look down? Can you imagine the view?”

  “It would be pretty spectacular, I expect,” he said with a laugh.

  The air was crisp, yet the sun warmed her enough that she enjoyed the ride immensely. Sights and sounds mesmerized her. Charlie pointed out the brilliant purple, white and orange wildflowers just beginning to bloom along the trail. Hawks and eagles soared overhead, and the sounds of wildlife scurrying through the brush and long grasses filled her with joy.

  She didn’t understand it, yet never before had she felt more as if she belonged. Somehow, a sense of peace and serenity unlike anything she’d ever known washed over her. It was as if she’d been away and she was finally coming home.

  She thought Charlie had said the ranch was a fair distance from town, yet it seemed they’d only been traveling for a few minutes when he crested a hill overlooking a valley.

  A river snaked its way through the valley, cattle roaming freely nearby. In the distance, horses grazed on grassy hillsides.

  “Welcome to the Bar-H,” he said. “I never get tired of coming over that ridge and seeing the ranch.”

  “It’s all yours?” Her family’s farm in Princeton was considered large, yet it would have fit in one corner of the land he’d indicated belonged to the Halsteads.

  “The main house is the white building with the barns and corrals,” he continued. “That’s where my parents live.”

  “Who owns that house?” she asked, pointing to a log house in the distance. Several smaller buildings flanked it. “It’s so pretty.”

  “I’m glad you think so. That’s our house,” he told her. “I work with my father, and I’ve just started a breeding operation. It’s still small but I’m hoping it’ll grow in time.”

  “It’s … the whole ranch … it’s beautiful … I had no idea it was so grand.”

  “It’s successful, but I deliberately left that out of the advertisement. I didn’t want to attract the wrong kind of woman.”

  “I understand.” And she did. She’d had her share of suitors who were more interested in her father’s position and the introductions he could make than they were in her.

  “I’ll show you around the ranch once you get settled.” He turned to face her and grinned.

  “I’m guessing you’ll want to see the stables first.”

  Excitement filled her. “I can’t wait.”

  * * *

  Charlie guided the buggy down a long drive, then stopped in front of the house and set the brake. “Here we are.”

  He was proud of the house he’d built, and he hoped Rose would be happy here. His confrontation with Eugenie could have destroyed their relationship before it even got started, but thankfully, Rose had accepted his word when he’d told her they’d talk about it later, and the ride from town had been pleasant. He hoped Rose would always be so easy to get along with.

  Being forced into marriage still stuck in his craw, but since he’d had no choice, at least it looked like Rose had a pleasant personality. The only thing missing was physical intimacy, but he was patient enough to give her time to get used to the idea. By the way she’d responded to his kiss, he was confident it wouldn’t take long before she’d be his completely.

  Rose allowed him to help her down, then paused for a few moments at the bottom of the stairs leading to a wide porch.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. Wasn’t she anxious to see the house? “You changed your mind? You don’t like it now that you’ve seen it up close?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she replied with a smile. “And I haven’t changed my mind. It’s still very pretty. I’m just taking it all in. After all, this is the place I’m going to be calling home for the rest of my life.”

  Relief washed over him. Her expression had been so serious that for a few seconds, he’d thought she’d already decided to head back to Massachusetts.

  Finally, she climbed up the stairs and stood by the heavy oak door.

  Charlie picked up her trunk and joined her on the porch. He set the trunk on the floor, u
nlatched the door and pushed it open. He stood aside and waited for her to go inside. She didn’t move.

  Confused, he turned to her. “Why aren’t you going in?”

  “I’m waiting for you to carry me over the threshold,” she said.

  Charlie swore under his breath. He hadn’t even thought of that.

  “Did you know that the reasons why groom carries his bride over the threshold has varied throughout history and also depending on the culture of the couple?”

  He shook his head.

  “For instance,” she began, “in ancient Rome, the bride had to show she wasn’t anxious to leave her father’s home. Other ancient culture believed demons waited at the doorway of a bride’s new home and could enter her body through her feet. Carrying her inside prevented this from happening.”

  “Well,” Charlie said with a grin as he swept Rose off her feet and into his arms, “we wouldn’t want any demons getting into the house.”

  Her arms reached around his neck and threaded through his hair. Her lavender scent filled his nose, and her soft curls tickled his cheek. Her breath teased his neck.

  Kicking the door shut behind him, he slowly lowered her to the ground, reluctant to let her leave the circle of his arms. She gazed up at him, a slow smile stealing across her lips as if she knew the direction of his thoughts.

  And she’d be right.

  With his arms around her and his hands clasped together behind her back, he lowered his mouth close to hers.

  Suddenly, her hands splayed on his chest and she wrestled herself out of his arms. “Now,” she said, “we’ll discuss what happened back in town.”

  “What?”

  “Eugenie.”

  “Not now—” He tried to capture her but she stepped away and moved around him to block the door.

  She leaned her back against it and crossed her arms over her chest. “You said we’d talk about it later. This is later.”

  Charlie raked his hand through his hair, frustration tightening inside him. “There’s really nothing to talk about. I never promised to marry her. In fact, I did my best to turn her against me so she’d find someone else. It’s not my fault she’s convinced I betrayed her. What did she say to you, anyway?”

  “What?”

  “I saw her whisper something to you. What was it?”

  “Nothing to worry about,” she replied. “But she’s obviously angry and hurt.”

  “And I’m sorry about that, but it’s not my fault. She does have a vindictive streak in her, but there’s nothing she can do about it now. It’s not as if she can prevent it so I’ll marry her.”

  “So you don’t think she’d do anything …?”

  He shook his head. He honestly wasn’t sure what Eugenie was capable of. “We’ll have to wait and see.” He didn’t want to deal with this now. He had other things to think about. “You don’t need to worry about her. I’ll take care of it.”

  Rose’s mouth quirked in a small smile. “To be honest, I’m not surprised you didn’t marry her. She is a bit … abrasive.”

  “You’re absolutely right. That’s why I gambled on finding a bride I could make a good life with rather than marry her.”

  A soft smile crept across her face.

  Charlie sighed inwardly. Thank goodness she believed him. He didn’t know what he would have done if she hadn’t. “Now, can we forget about this?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I won’t mention her again unless I have reason to.”

  “Good.” Pulling her back into his arms, he studied her for a long moment. “Rose …” The word was barely a whisper.

  Her eyes closed, and her lips parted, as if she was waiting for him to take what he wanted.

  Drawing on every ounce of self-control he could muster, he brushed his lips against hers. This time, she opened her mouth to him, invited him inside.

  Heat from her hands splayed across the front of his shirt, searing him, sending fingers of heat through his veins.

  He groaned, then gripped her shoulders and set her away. She stared up at him, confusion in her eyes. Her kiss-swollen lips were still parted, and he was tempted to forget everything else and kiss her until they were both exhausted.

  He sucked in a ragged breath. If he didn’t stop now, he wasn’t sure he would be able to. And he damned sure wouldn’t want to. “I’ll show you around quick, and then I have some things to do.”

  Like get to his parents’ house and tell them about his marriage before the news reached them. If it hadn’t already … “But I’ll be back before supper.”

  Taking her hand, he showed her the main floor. “As you can see, this is the sitting area, the dining room and the kitchen all in one.”

  He couldn’t help watching her as she walked around the room, her fingers caressing the smooth surface of the large pine table he’d built, pausing in front of the stone fireplace at one end of the room to look at the photographs on the mantel.

  He was a little surprised that she didn’t seem overly anxious to see the kitchen. He’d always thought that was a woman’s top priority. At least in his family it was. Every time his mother and his sisters got together, at some point they’d end up talking about their kitchens -what they liked or what was missing. Yet Rose didn’t seem interested at all.

  Maybe it was his imagination, or maybe she was just tired. She’d had a long journey and they hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. “I expect you’ll want to take a good look at the kitchen, but I’ll show you the rest of the house first so you can unpack and look around without me under foot.”

  Taking her hand, he led her up the stairs. “These are the bedrooms for our children. When we have them, that is,” he said, opening first one door and then the others. Inside, all three rooms were identical – a bed, a dressing table with a mirror, and a chair. He also showed her the room where the necessary would be located when it was finished. Already a large tub stretched across the length of the room.

  “And this is our room,” he told her, opening the door at the end of the hallway and ushering her inside. “I’ll bring your trunk in before I leave so you can get settled.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft.

  He noticed she made a point of averting her gaze from the bed. Instead, she crossed to the window and pulled the curtain back. Light flooded the room, the sun glimmering off the fiery highlights in her hair.

  His fingers itched to take the pins out so he could wrap his hands in her curls and kiss her again and again.

  “I moved my things to the bureau,” he said, his voice low and ragged with tamped-down desire, “so you can have the dresser and the wardrobe.”

  “Oh … I don’t need that much room … I’m sure I won’t be wearing most of the dresses I brought … They aren’t really suitable for working on a ranch.”

  “In that case, next time we go to town, you can get some fabric to make yourself some new work dresses.”

  She turned to look at him, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “I don’t … that is, I haven’t …”

  “You don’t know how to sew, do you?” he asked.

  “Not really,” she replied. “Unless you count embroidery. I am quite proficient in satin stitches and French knots.”

  “You use them to make dresses?”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure. I’ve never made any of my own clothes.”

  “Well, that’s a surprise. I expected you to at least know how to sew. How could you work in a garment factory and not know how to sew?”

  “I worked in the office there, not sewing. But I can learn,” she assured him.

  A slow smile quirked his lips. “I hope so, otherwise you’re going to be running around naked.”

  His comment was rewarded by a pink flush in her cheeks.

  “I’ll show you the kitchen and then I’ll leave you to get settled.”

  Rose followed him down the stairs and to the back of the house. A large worktable stood in the center of the space, shelves lined the walls
and a cast-iron cookstove stood near the corner. She was pleased to see there was a pump, which meant water in the house rather than having to fetch it from a well. “I left a lot of this room bare on purpose,” he told her.

  Her brows lifted. “Why?”

  “Figured my wife would want it set up to suit her since she’d be the one using it every day.”

  She nodded absently.

  “I’d be happy to build whatever you need.”

  “Thank you.”

  Charlie watched her as she moved around the kitchen. He’d expected her to be happy that she had the freedom to make the room more efficient for the way she worked. Instead, she seemed to look a little … lost.

  The realization hit him. “You don’t know how to cook either, do you?”

  She shook her head. “I can cook eggs sixteen different ways. And apple cobbler.”

  He couldn’t help himself. He began to laugh. “Well,” he said, “that might make it a bit difficult for us to get by, since I can’t cook either.”

  She gave him a tentative smile.

  “So you can’t sew and you can’t cook. Do you know how to clean?”

  “Not really.”

  “Laundry?”

  She shook her head.

  “You said you left home and lived with friends. How did you survive? You didn’t cook for yourself or clean up after yourself?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I ate a lot of eggs, and there were four of us in two rooms. We didn’t have much to clean. I took my clothes to the laundry.”

  “Can you do anything domestic?”

  “Of course I can, just not the things you expect me to do.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m sure it can’t be that difficult.”

  He swore again. Yes, she was beautiful, and in the bedroom, he was sure she could keep him happy … if she ever let him make love to her. But outside of it … she was a disaster.

  Not only had he been forced to do something he’d never wanted to do, but now he was stuck with a woman who had no homemaking skills whatsoever.

  “Anything else you forgot to tell me?”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip for a few moments, then shook her head.

 

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