by Jodi Thomas
Dropping the lace curtain, she decided to cut the man some slack. “Who knows? He might be the one.” Nell tried to smile at Mary Ruth, who hoped for Nell with every visitor who knocked.
Nell shrugged. “He doesn’t look all that bad. A little thin.” At least she could think positive until he proved her wrong. He’d been smart enough to pick a good horse to rent. “I’ll get dressed before going down. I don’t want to meet what might be my future husband in a robe and gown.”
The nurse let out a long breath as she headed for the closet. “I’ve only been with you a few months, Miss Nell, but one thing I’ve learned is that you’re particular. When you told the sheriff to post a notice for a husband, I thought you’d lost your mind. I was sure that within a week you’d be swindled out of all that woman named Fat Alice left you.”
Nell only half listened as she carefully stood long enough to pull a dress over her head. Six months ago the dress would have fit her curves; now it hung like a hand-me-down.
Mary Ruth tied the band of the dress, then moved the wheelchair back in place. A few weeks back, Nell couldn’t have stood for so long. She wasn’t sure if she was getting better or simply getting used to the pain. To take her mind off it, Nell planned what she’d say to this, her twelfth caller. She’d grown used to Mary Ruth’s chatter and knew she wouldn’t have to respond. The woman rarely had anything important to say. In the months since the accident, Nell had adjusted to never being allowed to be alone. First, there had been her three mothering friends, hovering around her out of concern and maybe a little out of guilt. The bullet that crippled Nell had been meant for one of them.
Once she recovered enough to move back to Clarendon, her friend, a Texas Ranger named Jacob Dalton, had stayed by her side night and day. After a month, she could no longer stand the sorrow in his eyes when he saw her struggle to move. She’d finally ordered him to leave. Then a stream of nurses smothered her. Most of the hired nurses returned to Dallas on the train within a week, but Mary Ruth had managed to stay. She didn’t mother, only bossed and lectured, while Nell ignored. In her mid-thirties, the nurse bore the height and strength of a man. She could carry Nell’s tall body down the stairs when needed, as if Nell weighed no more than a rag doll. The nurse’s one ability had doubled Nell’s prison, but little more.
“I’ll go put him in the study.” The nurse moved toward the door. “If the last heart you broke isn’t still in there whining. I’ve never seen a man take rejection so hard. He must have felt deeply for you.”
“He hardly knew my name.” Nell combed her hair with the brush Mary Ruth always left on the nightstand. “It was my money he felt the loss of.”
“Maybe so, but I hate to see a man cry. I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, so I left him to his misery.”
“Tell Gypsy to offer Number Twelve tea, and please, be sure the study door is closed before you come back to get me.” Mary Ruth had forgotten twice in the past week. The nurse tended to forget orders she thought unnecessary. She didn’t mind if visitors saw her doing her job, even if it did embarrass Nell.
Mary Ruth nodded once as she straightened her uniform. There was no need for Nell to say more. They both knew she didn’t want anyone to see her being carried—not even the man she planned to marry. They also both knew that Mary Ruth considered the deception a bother and would forget the request as soon as it suited her.
As the nurse hurried downstairs, Nell pulled her hair up in a bun, making her look older, then rolled to the shadows of the balcony. She stared down into the huge, cavernous room below. The stranger openly appraised the place. The great room was a far cry from the gaudy red and gold of its brothel days. Nell had ordered most of the new furniture from catalogs. Now the room was tastefully divided into groupings. No line of chairs remained along the far wall where girls waited for their callers for the evening. Only two doors, besides the entry, led off the room. One to a small study. The other to the kitchen.
Nell remembered how the chairs had been all straight-backed cane when she’d been a child. Fat Alice didn’t want her girls getting too comfortable while waiting for business. The old madam, who’d become her guardian after Nell’s mother died, had also never allowed Nell in the big room during what she called business hours.
Today, the only personal touch to the room was Nell’s pots of wildflowers along the windowsills. If she couldn’t go to the land, a little part of it would come to her. Though outside it might look like the last few days of winter, in the house it was spring.
The stranger below tapped riding gloves against his palm as he waited.
Gypsy, Nell’s housekeeper, explained that since he came unannounced, he might have to wait a while.
Nell smiled. Old Gypsy might be almost toothless and spotted with age, but a hint of the hooker she’d been still lingered in the way she moved. She’d spent too many years in this house practicing her trade to ever lose the sway in her hips or the tilt of her head that told many a cowhand that he was about to be in for the ride of his life.
“I’ve come a long way,” the stranger’s words drifted up to Nell. “I hope the lady will take that into consideration and not keep me waiting long.”
Gypsy put her hands on her hips. “Well, there ain’t no charge for hoping, mister.”
Mary Ruth reached the ground level before Gypsy could say more. Her crisp white uniform at least earned her a nod from the man, which was more greeting than he’d given the housekeeper.
The tall nurse stared eye level at the stranger. “You here about the ad?”
Of course he was, Nell thought as she watched him stiffen. No one came to this rambling old house by the tracks. She had trouble getting merchants in town to deliver goods, even though the place hadn’t been a house of ill repute for years. Her doctor had to ride the train all morning to visit her once a month because the town doctor claimed to always be too busy to make calls out to the house by the tracks.
“I’m here to pay a call on Miss Nell Smith.” Number Twelve’s voice was deep and strong . . . and nervous. “My business is of a private nature.” He lifted his head and stretched taller so that he could look down on the nurse. “Would you be so kind as to tell her Randolph Harrison is here to see her? I sent my card and introduction by post.”
Nell thought of the letters stacked on her desk, but it was too late to sort through them and study the references of one from a Mr. Harrison. As for his business being private, everyone in town knew about the ad wanting a husband. Word was, men were laying bets at the saloon on how many men she’d turn down before she settled on one.
“She already knows you’re here,” Mary Ruth answered honestly. “She’s not blind and deaf. If you’ll wait in the study, I’ll see if she wants to receive you.”
Gypsy winked at the stranger. “You’ve made it farther than most. Some she turns down when she sees them walking up the path. One fellow, I think it was the fourth or fifth, didn’t even get off his horse before she yelled for him to go away.”
Randolph Harrison appeared bothered by the old housekeeper’s attempt to be friendly. He handed her his hat and gloves without a word and walked into the study.
After securing the door, Mary Ruth climbed the stairs and carefully carried Nell, while Gypsy bumped the chair down the steps.
“As soon as this one leaves,” the nurse said, “I’ll put you down for a nap. With this much excitement, you’ll need to rest another hour today.”
“I’m fine,” Nell insisted. She felt like she spent most of her life in bed.
Once Nell was back in her wheeled prison, both women fussed over her until she shooed them away. Nell nodded, and Mary Ruth opened the door. She braced herself for what she’d see. First he’d smile, noticing her face. Then he, like the others, would stare at the chair, and his greeting would change. He’d stop seeing her and only see a cripple.
She hated what came next. Pity. Every man who came about the offer to marry, in exchange for a full partnership in her holdings, looked the
same. He wanted to help her, poor cripple that she was, but he wasn’t sure he could tie himself for life to someone who couldn’t walk. They’d ask questions about the accident, the future, the possibility of children. They’d even hint that the terms might need to be altered. After all, a partnership didn’t have to include marriage. It wouldn’t be fair to her, not knowing him. Maybe they should start with a business agreement first and see what developed.
Nell never allowed the conversation to progress further. She ended it. Better to reject them before they rejected her. She needed a partner but wanted a husband. She’d have both or nothing at all.
Holding her breath, Nell glanced up, expecting to see pity in Number Twelve’s eyes. To her shock, there was none. His slate gray gaze studied her without any emotion. Either he’d learned to hide his feelings quite well, or he had none. She couldn’t tell which.
“Miss Nell Smith?” His voice hinted of a formal education.
Nell offered her hand. “Mr. Harrison.”
His grasp felt solid. He knew he was being tested. “I’m here in answer to your ad. I see now why you would benefit from a partner in running the several properties of your estate.”
He didn’t lean down but remained straight, his manner cold. “I believe you’ll find my references satisfactory. Though it’s been ten years back, I did the accounting for a large ranch in East Texas once.”
She couldn’t believe his total lack of interest in her condition. Was he being kind or indifferent? “And you’d agree to the terms?”
“Half your properties in exchange for managing the entire estate.” He stepped a few feet away and lifted a book from her desk. He glanced at the spine and returned the book to the exact place. A man of order. “I believe those were the terms, and I consider them fair.”
“And the marriage? You’d agree to this bargain for life?”
He hesitated only a moment, looking down at her chair before meeting her stare. “I assume you mean ‘in name only’ to the bond.”
Nell nodded, not trusting her voice. She’d hoped the marriage would be on paper only, but had been afraid to make it part of the agreement.
He studied her with his cold gray eyes. “Until death do us part. You’ll have my name and my word.”
“Yes. Just like a real marriage, except I’d live here and you’d have your pick of the ranch houses to use as headquarters. I have seven properties in all: one farm, four working ranches, and two places I consider near worthless. We’d manage them jointly. This house and the land around it would not be part of the holdings.”
“Bound in a full partnership for life.” His hard voice seemed to carve the words in stone. “I’d like to set the rules and terms of the agreement before we marry. I’ve made a few notes about how often we’ll meet and what will happen if we disagree on the management of your properties. I’d like everything clear between us before we go further.”
Something in the way he said the words made her shiver. He was exactly what she’d hoped for. A man who looked like he could run her holdings. Intelligent. Well-mannered. Capable. So, what was wrong with him?
“Do I need to formally ask for your hand in marriage, or can the details be arranged along with the partnership?”
“I’ll not marry before all agreements are signed. Without the proper papers, all I own would become yours with the marriage. I want to know this house and half of everything I have will stay in my name.”
“Fair enough. Shall we send for the lawyers?” He didn’t hesitate, only politely asked, letting her set the pace.
“I’d like some time to think about it, Mr. Harrison. To get to know you.” Nell tasted panic. Always before she couldn’t think of one reason to say yes; now she couldn’t think of one to say no. “I’ll make notes of my own before we talk again.”
He raised an eyebrow, as if considering her request. “Would a week be sufficient? During that time, we can meet at your convenience to discuss details, and I would have the opportunity to visit each of your properties. I wish to put no stress on your condition.”
He held the door for her as they moved into the main room, where Gypsy had set up tea for them. “Will you join me for tea, Mr. Harrison?” She needed time to think and also time to watch him.
“Thank you.” He walked beside her, not offering to push her chair, for which she was grateful.
Before she reached the table, the front door jerked open with such force it almost rattled off the hinges.
Randolph widened his stance. Nell froze.
A broad shouldered, dust-covered Texas Ranger barged through the room like a tornado at full wind. “Nell!” he yelled. “I’m not having any of this.”
Randolph stepped forward. “Now see here! You can’t rush into a lady’s home and yell at her. I don’t care who you think you are.”
Jacob Dalton glared at the man as if he were no more than a gnat pestering him. “Who are you?”
“I’m her future husband, Randolph Hamilton.”
“Good!”
Nell had had enough of Jacob’s bullying. “What do you think you’re doing here? I told you I didn’t need you mothering me.”
He leaned down an inch from her face. “Well, someone needs to ride herd on you, Two Bits. I’ve had the job most of my life, and when I leave for a few months, look what happens. You go crazy!”
Mary Ruth rushed into the room like a palace guard protecting the queen. But before she could attack Jacob, Nell found her voice. “I’m doing just fine. I’m getting on with my life. Stay out of it.”
I’ll have to ask you to leave, mister.” The nurse pointed to the open door as if Jacob would take such a hint. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re upsetting my patient, and I’ll not allow it.”
Jacob didn’t seem to notice the almost six foot of nurse standing before him. His powerful body heaved in rage as he stared down at the thin, injured woman like he wanted to strangle her.
Nell gained control first. “What do you mean it’s good that I’m marrying Mr. Harrison? If you approve, why are you yelling?”
Jacob straightened. “I said good because if he were already married to you, I’d have to kill him.” He said the words too calmly for them to be a lie.
Mr. Harrison paled. Mary Ruth hesitated between helping him and protecting Nell.
When Harrison hit the floor, Nell motioned for the nurse to assist him.
The ranger stepped over the fiancé and opened a window. “You’re not marrying anyone.”
“Like hell I’m not. He’s the twelfth one to ask and by far the best, if you didn’t frighten him to death.” Nell wished she could run. She’d put half a world of distance between her and Jacob Dalton. “I want to be married. Respectable. I’ve never had a last name except the one Fat Alice gave me when I went away to school. I’ll give up half of all I inherited for it, and you’re not stopping me, no matter how much of a big brother you think you are to me. I’m old enough and rich enough to get what I want in this one thing.”
Jacob paced a few feet, then let out a long breath. He stared out the window as if seeing clearly for the first time in a long while. Propping his muddy boot on the window box, he almost sent a flowerpot tumbling. His big frame made the room shrink.
Nell watched him. A part of her would always worship the ranger she’d followed around when she’d been a kid running the streets. But she couldn’t let him back into her life. She couldn’t stand to see the sadness in his eyes when he looked at her. Even though he’d been miles away when her accident happened, she knew he blamed himself.
“All right,” he said in little more than a whisper. “If marriage is what you want, then marry.” He glanced at Randolph, still out cold. “But not him.”
“Then who?” Nell glared at Jacob. She wasn’t about to let him pick her partner.
“Me.” His single word rattled across the room.
“You?”
He turned and straightened like a man preparing for battle. “I’m stepping into the li
ne of men who’ve come knocking.”
“Number Thirteen,” Mary Ruth whispered.
Nell whirled her chair around and left the room.
CHAPTER 3
JACOB DALTON STOOD IN THE STUDY DOORWAY AND watched the nurse carefully lift Nell from the wheelchair and carry her up the stairs. Nell didn’t look in his direction, but he guessed she knew he watched.
To know that he saw her helpless would have hurt her pride, but he would be damned if he’d turn away. She needed to know he didn’t care that she was crippled. He’d been her friend and protector most of her life, and he’d be it now if she needed him. The chair wasn’t part of her. It was only something she used, nothing more.
When Nell and the nurse disappeared into the bedroom at the top of the stairs, he yelled, “I’m not leaving, Two Bits, so you might as well talk to me!”
“My name’s not Two Bits,” she yelled back.
At least there was nothing wrong with her lungs. She might have come home from that fancy school back East all looking like a lady, but get her mad, and the scrapper came out.
“Go away, Jacob Dalton. I’m not talking to you about this. It’s none of your business what I do.”
He walked into the entryway, his voice shaking the windows. “You don’t have to talk to me. You just have to marry me. Near as I can tell, that ends most of the talking between men and women!”
Old Gypsy, who Jacob swore must have come with the house when it was built, poked her head out from the swinging door that led to the kitchen and covered her ears. She took one look at Jacob and turtled back behind the door before he even had time to growl at her. The old hooker turned housekeeper was just one of the strays Nell had collected, but Jacob wasn’t about to allow her to collect a husband just because she thought she needed a last name.
“Go away, Ranger.” Mary Ruth appeared on the landing, her nurse’s apron worn like armor. “Miss Nell is in no mood to consider any more proposals today.”
Jacob opened his mouth to argue, but reconsidered. Maybe he should give Nell time to think about it. Maybe he should think about them marrying. After all, the idea had only been in his brain a second before he voiced it. To him marriage had always rated up there with yellow fever. Something he didn’t want to catch, or be around too many people infected because they felt the need to spread the disease.
