Ain't No Angel

by Henderson, Peggy L

  Neither Tyler nor Gabe had told the rest of the Double M crew about their fight. For all they knew, Tyler had agreed to the wedding. No doubt Gabe had informed them that their boss hadn’t been happy about their little surprise, but had come around to their way of thinking. For the last several days, he’d endured their good-natured banter and helpful advice about being a married man soon without setting anyone straight. Let them believe what they wanted and have their fun. They’d probably placed bets all week to see if their boss would actually make it to the altar.

  A woman’s angry voice drifted from inside the church. Gabe’s head shot in the direction of the building, then darted to Tyler. “What did you say to her? You ain’t even wed yet, and you got her spittin’ mad already?” He slapped Tyler’s back as if he approved.

  Tyler stopped to listen. What had made Miss Goodman so angry that she would raise her voice in such a manner to a man of God, inside a church, no less? The corners of his mouth twitched. She certainly was a feisty one, something he’d already sensed from their very brief encounter.

  “Appears that bet we made wasn’t such a loss after all, huh, Ty?” Gabe leaned forward and glanced up at him, his brows raised. “My eyes nearly popped from their sockets when I saw her get off that stage. You’ll be the envy of every man in the territory.” He grinned from ear to ear, and the three wranglers sniggered.

  “Of course, with a temper like that, you might need to use a stronger bit.” Gabe never missed an opportunity to compare his women to horses, and Tyler bristled at his inference now. The comparisons reminded him too much of the ones his father used to make. He shrugged it off. All the men enjoyed making comparisons between their love of women and passion for the horses.

  Tyler eyed the church door. It sounded like it was time to find out what the commotion was about, but he hesitated. Reverend Johnson had asked him to wait, that he needed to speak to Miss Goodman alone. How did the two of them know each other? Something seemed odd to him, out of place, and his stomach churned.

  He shrugged the feeling off. It was simply the idea of getting hitched that was making him sick. He stepped toward the church. He was tired of standing around out here on the street like some lost dog.

  “What’s going on, Ty?” Gabe echoed his thoughts.

  “Hell if I know,” Tyler answered. He shot his foreman an annoyed look.

  “It ain’t gonna be so bad, Ty. She’s a real pretty woman,” Eddie chimed in from behind them. More shouting came from inside the church. Eddie grinned. “Even if she is a bit feisty. Just think of her as a young, unruly little filly. You can break her and train her up to suit you. A woman ain’t much different from a horse. You just gotta know how to stroke ‘em right.” His hand motion mimicked how he would stroke a horse.

  Tyler scoffed. “What the hell do you know about women, Eddie?”

  Sammy and Beau chuckled, and elbowed Eddie in the side. The beefy man’s face turned a shade of crimson, and Tyler grinned, despite his misgivings.

  Eddie and his foreman were right about one thing. Miss Goodman was the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. The moment she stepped foot off that stage, he’d known that he was in trouble. He had expected some homely female, not the delicate beauty who stood in the middle of the street, looking thoroughly lost. Something he couldn’t even begin to explain had ignited in him, some need to keep her safe and away from other men who had no right to her. Instantly, his plan to send her back to where she came from dissolved into the afternoon breeze.

  If word got out that he had refused to marry her, a dozen eager men would line up to take his place. One look at her, and blood might even get spilled. Single women were sparse in the territory, and a beautiful young woman was as rare as finding gold. In a hasty decision he already regretted, Tyler had cut Gabe off when he was about to tell her that she wasn’t going to be married today.

  Why would a woman like her want to come all the way out here to Montana, to the middle of nowhere, and marry a complete stranger? She had no idea what she might be getting herself into. If she were plain-looking he might understand. What flaws did Miss Goodman have that made her a single lady?

  The loud female voice drifting from the church might be the answer to that question. He’d already detected a certain fire in her, like she wouldn’t back down easily if cornered. Was she just a hellion, someone who would give a man nothing but grief? He certainly wasn’t going to kowtow to any woman, pretty or not. Old man Peterson at the mercantile had his hands full with his domineering wife, and everyone in town knew that she wore the britches in the family.

  Tyler shuddered, thinking about the buxom woman. Thankfully, Miss Goodman looked nothing like her. She could run his household, but she wasn’t going to run him. The less he saw of her, the better off he’d be. He worked from sunup to sundown most days anyway, so he didn’t anticipate seeing much of his bride. No one had said this had to be a real marriage, only a legal one.

  The church door swung open, and Reverend Johnson emerged, a wide smile on his face. The old man looked his way, then beckoned to him. Tyler groaned.

  “Appears the wedding’s back on.” Gabe grinned from ear to ear, and slapped his back.

  Tyler clutched his hat in his hand, and headed toward the preacher. No matter what happened, at least he had his horses.

  Chapter 5

  Laney stroked the horse’s soft muzzle. The bay sniffed at her hand, and his teammate nudged her arm. She smiled. She hadn’t been around horses in ages, it seemed.

  “All right, all right. I’ll give you a pat, too. No need to be jealous.”

  “You ready?”

  Laney peered around the horse’s wide body toward the buckboard to which the team was hitched. Tyler stood off to the side, studying her with those intense eyes of his. The guy really needed to lighten up. She had the feeling that he wasn’t always like this, that she was the reason for his scowly mood. Not exactly the kind of look a man should wear on his wedding day.

  You’re not really happy about this situation, either. Yeah, but he was the one who had sent for her, had ordered himself a wife. Did she not measure up to his expectations?

  A sudden wave of insecurity washed over her. She had to perform her duties well here and make a good impression, or she wouldn’t get that job back home. Back home, in the future.

  Laney still couldn’t quite believe what the reverend had told her. This was something straight out of a science fiction movie. The old man had refused to tell her anything about himself; who he was or where he’d come from. Why had she been singled out for a second chance? Was he some kind of guardian angel? Laney didn’t want to contemplate her questions too much. She might not like the answers.

  “Ma’am?”

  Tyler touched her elbow, and her head shot up to look into those dark eyes of his. When had he walked over to her?

  “Um, yes, I’m ready.” Laney inched her way between him and the horse, and headed for the front of the wagon. She glanced up at the tall seat, then at her dress. In jeans, climbing up into the rig would be a piece of cake, but how was she going to get up there in this cumbersome dress? She could barely move in it as it was.

  Laney grabbed a handful of the fabric of her skirt, and reached up with her other hand to hold on to the edge of the wooden seat. She raised her right leg up to the top of the wagon wheel. Before she could shove off with her left foot, two hands bracketed her waist, and lifted her up. Laney gasped at the unexpected help, and a small squeak escaped her lips. An electric jolt hit her from the strong, secure touch of Tyler’s grip. She fumbled for a hold on the seat, scrambling to get her feet into the footrest. She stepped on her dress, and flinched at the sound of the material tearing.

  “Dammit,” she mumbled under her breath, and quickly plopped her rear onto the hard wooden seat. She adjusted the fabric around her legs, and turned her head to look at Tyler. He was no longer there, but had already moved around to the other side of the wagon. He swung easily up into the seat, and the springs c
reaked with his extra weight. The boards dipped slightly to his side, and Laney grabbed hold of the edge to keep from sliding toward him.

  “Thanks for the lift,” she mumbled.

  Tyler unwrapped the leather reins from around the brake handle, and clucked to the team. The horses stepped forward, and eased into a slow trot, heading down the street, in the opposite direction of the church. Laney glanced over her shoulder, but Reverend Johnson was nowhere to be seen. The four cowboys stood just outside the saloon, watching the buckboard roll past them. They all grinned as if they’d won the lottery.

  Tyler looked straight ahead, neither acknowledging the men or her. He rested his forearms on his knees, and held the reins easily between his gloved fingers.

  “How far away is your ranch?” Laney asked after they passed the last building of the small town.

  “About six miles. I expect we’ll be there in an hour.”

  “An hour?” Laney sat up straighter. Her spine bumped against the low backrest, and she leaned forward slightly.

  Tyler briefly glanced her way. “I suppose you’re used to a much fancier rig than this, living in the city.”

  You have no idea.

  “I’d actually prefer riding a horse to sitting on this uncomfortable seat.” Of course, in her dress, riding horseback was out of the question.

  “You ride?” The tone in Tyler’s voice changed, and he seemed genuinely surprised. His brows rose, and Laney stared. He’d lost some of the dark scowl from earlier, which made him look even more handsome.

  “Yes, I enjoy riding. It’s been a while, but it’s something you never forget.”

  Tyler nodded, then looked straight ahead again.

  Laney clutched her hands in her lap. What sort of conversation was safe with a guy from the nineteenth century? The horses settled into a brisk trot down the dirt ruts that couldn’t be described as a road, and Laney closed her eyes, enjoying the rhythmic sounds of hooves and the jingling of harness. Countless crickets chirped in the tall grasses surrounding them, and Laney inhaled the fresh scent of pine and sweet grass. Occasionally, the smell of leather and horse drifted to her nose.

  Laney stole a sideways glance at Tyler. She had no idea how she was going to get close to this man. She’d rarely taken the initiative with guys. She scoffed silently. All of her past relationships stemmed from her desperate need for acceptance and to feel wanted. The only thing she ever did get was taken advantage of. It didn’t matter now. After she completed what she was brought here to do, she could immerse herself in the job the reverend had promised her.

  Would Tyler take the lead once they reached his ranch, or was she expected to put on a good show? She had already psyched herself up for what she’d agreed to do for Jason, so this would be no different. Tyler sure hadn’t seemed like the affectionate type back in town. Maybe affection in public wasn’t socially acceptable yet in this time, and he waited to be alone with her at his ranch.

  Laney curled her toes inside her tight shoes. Her heels burned from the blisters she was sure to find once she removed the uncomfortable footwear. Did they have bandaids in the nineteenth century? What else would she miss from her time, things she’d taken for granted all her life?

  There were so many things she had forgotten to ask the reverend, and she regretted her decision already to stay here in this time. She chuckled, and shook her head. This time. Was she truly in the year 1872? The old man better have packed some of her modern necessities in those trunks that supposedly belonged to her. She could probably fake her way through a few weeks or even a month, but there were just some things she shuddered to be without. What did women do when they had their monthly?

  Laney glanced to the side at the silent man next to her. She definitely couldn’t go to him for advice. He’d barely said a word since leaving the church after their brief wedding ceremony, and Laney had the distinct impression that he hadn’t wanted to get married any more than she did. He hadn’t even smiled or given her any sort of physical vibe that he was pleased about the whole thing.

  His behavior reminded her of the time one of her foster dads had to go in for a root canal. The man had literally turned white as a sheet when he informed his wife over dinner. Was that part of the reason she was here? The reverend thought Tyler needed to loosen up, and he’d hired a prostitute to get him to relax? She really wished she had asked more questions.

  Laney had barely heard the old man’s words as he presided over the wedding. Keeping a straight face when he asked her if she’d honor and obey Tyler, she’d quickly swallowed back the words she wanted to say in reply, and simply nodded.

  She’d faced Tyler, staring up and into the depths of his dark eyes while the reverend spoke the vows. He’d reached for her hand at Johnson’s suggestion, and his gaze had darkened while the muscles along his jaw tensed. His calloused palm swallowed up her hand, and his grip had been gentle, but strong. As the seconds passed, and the reverend spoke, Laney’s fingers tingled from Tyler’s touch, slowly creeping up her arm, and settling in the pit of her stomach. The confining dress seemed to constrict her air intake even more, and she swayed slightly on her feet.

  “Well, I suppose since you two have only just met, it might not be the proper time to tell you to kiss your bride, Tyler. But you two are now man and wife.”

  The only witnesses to the ceremony, the four cowboys she’d seen earlier, whooped and hollered at the back of the church. One big guy yelled out for Tyler to kiss her, and Gabe McFarlain shouted, “let the shivaree begin.” Tyler instantly tensed. Laney vaguely wondered what a shivaree was.

  She glanced up at him, and for a fleeting second his gaze had softened, or had she simply imagined it? Her pulse had increased, and she wondered if he would kiss her, but then his eyes had returned to the same hard stare he’d worn before, and he released her hands.

  What would Tyler’s touch be like in the privacy of his bedroom? Recalling her reaction to him in the church, and his hands at her waist when he helped her up into the buckboard, Laney licked her lips with a sudden anticipation of what her wedding night might bring. Maybe he was just shy in public. She couldn’t see a guy who looked like he did, who was built solid and athletic, to not have a healthy appetite for sex.

  Think of something else, Laney. Where was a tall glass of ice water when she needed one? She focused her eyes on the backs of the horses as they trotted at an easy pace along the dirt road. The other part of her assignment came to mind.

  How was she going to figure out what was wrong with Tyler’s horse, and then try and help the stallion? What if his problem wasn’t fixable with massage therapy? A shiver ran down Laney spine. Would she be stuck here, in this time, forever? The reverend had said she was here for however long it took to fix the horse. And she had to keep its owner satisfied, too.

  “We’re almost there. Just over the rise.”

  Laney flinched at Tyler’s sudden words. They’d moved along in silence for so long, his voice startled her. She focused on her surroundings as the buckboard traveled up a slight incline. The road skirted a thick forest of pine trees and evergreens on the right, and a green, expansive meadow on the left. Tyler clucked to the team, and the two bays increased their pace. Up on the rise, he slowed the horses to a walk.

  Laney observed his hands, his subtle finger movements as he played with the reins through which he communicated silently with the animals. He closed his hands in a relaxed fist, and the team came to a stop at the top of the incline. Tyler had a gentle hand with the animals. It required a certain touch, a feel, to control a team with such subtle finesse, and he was a master at it. Before she allowed her mind to wander to what else his hands were capable of, Laney glanced at his profile, wondering why they’d stopped. He looked straight ahead, and her eyes followed his gaze.

  “Oh, wow.” Her heart rate accelerated, and she sat up straighter, leaning forward to see over the tops of the horses’ backs. Spread out in the valley below them were several barns and buildings, and wooden fenced corrals.
A large log ranch house caught her eye, nestled against the slope of a pinetree-covered hill. A huge stone chimney rose from the backside of the house. Dozens of horses grazed in the outlying fields and larger fenced paddocks. A windmill stood off to the side of the dirt yard that separated the main house from the first outbuildings. The blades turned lazily in the breeze.

  “Welcome to the Double M,” Tyler said. There was a distinct note of pride in his voice.

  “It looks like heaven,” Laney answered in awe, and her eyes pooled with unexpected tears. She shot a quick look at Tyler, and their eyes met for the first time since leaving town. His eyebrows scrunched together for a brief moment, then his jaw tensed.

  “I hope it’ll be to your liking,” he said, and clucked to his team, the scowl back on his face.

  Laney stared at the man, then at the beautiful ranch sprawled out before her that would be her home over the next several weeks. Why did he seem so grumpy? She shrugged it off. Nothing was going to mar her good mood at the moment. She was going to enjoy her time here, no matter how sulky her temporary husband seemed to be. There were ways to remedy a man’s bad mood. Would she be good enough for him? What if she wasn’t what he had expected?

  Laney expelled the air from her lungs. Hopefully, by tomorrow morning, Tyler Monroe would be grinning from ear to ear with satisfaction.

  Chapter 6

  Tyler stopped the team in front of his house, and applied the brake. He wrapped the reins around the handle, and jumped to the ground. He had to get off the buckboard, and put some distance between himself and Miss Goodman . . . hell, she was now legally Mrs. Tyler Monroe. He swallowed, and walked to the front of the horses, patting Chuck on the neck. His teammate, Buck, nickered, and tossed his head. Tyler stroked the horse’s nose.

  “Easy boys, I’ll get you back to the barn in a little while.”