What if he was rushing to judgment? What if—
What the hell?
Pots and pans clanked loudly from outside. Someone rang the dinner bell incessantly, and a gun fired. Men whooped and hollered loudly.
Tyler cursed just as loud, and bolted from his bed. Damn his men! He grabbed for his britches lying on the ground and yanked them on. The noise outside seemed to grow in intensity with every passing second. Ignoring it might be a wiser thing to do, but his first reaction was to storm out there and give his crew a piece of his mind. He reached for his rifle that was propped in a corner of the room, and pulled open his bedroom door.
Tyler stormed down the hall and to the front door, ripping it open. The whoops and cheers that greeted him increased. Clenching his jaw, Tyler pointed the rifle at the rabble rousers. Not only were his hired men standing outside, but also several of his friends and neighbors. To his surprise, Ian Frazier was among them as well, beating a metal dipper against a rusty old pan like an Indian beating his drum at a pow wow.
“How’s the weddin’ night, Ty?” Gabe shouted, shaking a cowbell.
“Morning starts early, folks. Go home,” Tyler shouted over the racket.
He wasn’t surprised at the antics of his crew and neighbors. Shivarees were a common tradition at weddings, to disrupt a newly married couple’s wedding night. It was all done in good fun. His hadn’t been a real wedding, however, and he sure as hell wasn’t spending his first married night with his wife.
Annoyance shot though him. He expected no less from Gabe and his crew. They all enjoyed a good laugh, had all played pranks on each other at one time or another. Gabe’s latest prank on him, however, making that bet and ordering him a wife, had gone a little too far. Too far, because try as he might, he couldn’t get Laney out of his mind, and in less than a day she had wormed her way securely under his skin. Despite the fact that she might be—
The whoops and shouts increased, and some men whistled loudly. Gabe’s jaw nearly dropped to his knees. Tyler frowned. What the hell were they all gaping at? A floorboard creaked behind him, and the scent of an unknown flower drifted to his nose. Tyler stiffened. He turned his head slowly, and his pulse increased.
“Tyler? Come back to bed. Ignore them.” Laney’s soft, sensuous voice drifted out of the darkness of the house. Not a second later, she came up next to him, and wrapped her hands around his arm holding the rifle. Tyler stared. He cursed under his breath.
In the silver light from the moon overhead, her eyes glistened seductively at him. His gut clenched when her soft body pressed up against his side. What the hell was she wearing? Tyler recognized his own shirt. The sleeves were much too long, and she’d left enough buttons open at the top to reveal plenty of her cleavage.
Tyler swallowed as his gaze drifted lower. He immediately pushed her behind him and took a step in front of her. Laney’s legs and feet were bare. The only thing covering her was his shirt that reached barely to her knees.
“What the hell are you doing, woman?” he hissed, ignoring the rude catcalls from the crowd. Tyler stepped back, bumping into her, and slammed his front door shut. Loud cheers erupted from the people outside, and someone shot off their gun. The clanging of metal and cowbells continued, but the loud drumming of his pulse in his ears drowned out all the other sounds.
He turned abruptly to face her, and grabbed her upper arms. Anger exploded in his chest. Anger at Gabe, anger at himself, and anger at Laney for being so damn desirable and for turning his world upside down, despite what she was.
Moonlight drifted in through the window in the living room, hiding nothing from him. Laney’s eyes widened briefly, then they flashed in anger.
“I was trying to do you a favor, cowboy,” she said heatedly. She stared up at him, unperturbed by his scowl.
“Favor?” he repeated through gritted teeth. The fabric of his shirt on her tickled his chest, and Tyler suppressed a groan.
“Yes, favor.” Laney pulled her arms free of his grip. “I don’t know what your deal is, why you even wanted a wife. You sure don’t act like a guy who wants to be married. All day long, ever since we met, I’ve had the impression that you don’t like me, or that you’re hiding something.” She stared straight at him. “We don’t even know each other, and I’ve had the feeling like you’ve judged and condemned me already.”
Tyler shifted from one foot to the other, and leaned slightly toward her. He ran a hand across his jaw. He’d done exactly what she said.
“The only thing I’m trying to hide, woman, is you flaunting yourself in front of my crew and my neighbors.” His voice rose in anger. He balled his fists at his side, and forced his eyes to remain on Laney’s face rather than drift lower. “No decent woman exposes herself in front of a bunch of men.”
She flinched at his loud voice, but stood her ground. She fisted her hand at her hip, and leaned up toward him, her chin raised. “Well at least now those men out there can sleep better tonight, thinking that you’re having a good time on your wedding night.”
The soft smile that spread across her face was his undoing. He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her roughly up against his chest. He brought his mouth down on hers in a crushing kiss. A rush of heat ignited within him, sending liquid fire throughout his limbs. Laney squirmed in front of him. Tyler released her arm and buried his hand in her hair behind her head, holding her to him.
What he intended as a kiss to intimidate, to punish her for what she was doing to him, for making him want her despite his suspicions about her, quickly changed to something else. He’d never felt anything like the sensations rushing through him at the moment. He eased back slightly, then his lips covered her mouth again, gently sliding across hers, while his fingers weaved through her hair. A moan escaped from deep within his chest, as a new wave of desire rocked through him. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, and pulled her even closer. It wasn’t close enough.
Laney’s hands pushed lightly against his chest, as if she couldn’t make up her mind whether to push him away or not. Soft pleas escaped her mouth, pleas that could be interpreted to mean he should stop, or continue. Tyler fought for self-control. He was ready to take her right there on the hard wooden floor.
She leaned into him with each passing second he assaulted her lips, but there was also a hesitation, a tensing of her body. She wasn’t giving back as freely as he had expected. Tyler tore his lips from hers and uncoiled his arm from around her waist. Sucking in a deep breath, he stepped away from her.
“What are you doing to me, woman?” he said through clenched teeth, trying to control his erratic breathing. Part of him wanted to pull her back into his arms, more gently, the way he should have done in the first place.
How the hell was he supposed to react? She’d done nothing but tempt him all day, and now that he’d acted on her invitation, she seemed almost afraid of him.
Laney panted, holding her hand to her chest. She stared at him with wide eyes. “I haven’t done anything.” Her voice faltered, and she lowered her head. “Obviously I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Before he could stop himself, his hand reached up and touched tentative fingers to her cheek. She shuddered and drew in a deep breath. Her eyes shimmered when she raised her chin.
“Go back to your bed, Laney. It’s been a long day. For all of us.” He tore his gaze away from her, and reached for his rifle on the floor. Without another word, he headed toward his room, leaving her standing in the dark hall.
Tyler cursed himself a thousand times over. He closed the door to his room and sank onto his mattress. A sleepless night lay ahead. He’d put a scare in her with his rough handling; he could see it in her eyes. Even if she was a soiled woman, she hadn’t deserved that kind of treatment. Somehow he’d make amends for his behavior. Just as soon as he figured out what it was about the woman he had married that tormented his mind and body.
Chapter 8
Laney ran her hands down the front of the dress she’d chosen
to wear. The buttons at the front went all the way up to her neck. She stood stiffly in front of the mirror.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered. The scratchy material was going to drive her insane. She undid several of the buttons, and scratched at the itchy skin around her neck. What harm would it do to leave a few buttons open? She turned first to one side, then the other in front of the mirror to inspect her appearance. The forest green gingham wasn’t a color she would choose ordinarily, but it was either that or some other drab garb. Other than the purple dress she’d worn yesterday when she arrived, the rest of the gowns in her trunks were rather plain looking. None of them fit her right. They were too loose at the waist and around the chest. If she wore a bunch of petticoats, and several layers of those white nightgown-looking things, the dress would probably fit just right.
By her best estimate, the temperature had been well into the eighties the day before, and judging by the sun shining through her window, today would be no different. She was destined to melt in these clothes if she wore all those layers. A chemise, some bloomers, and one petticoat would have to be enough. She absolutely refused to wear a corset. She’d burn the four she found in her trunks if anyone insisted she wear one. Geez. What she wouldn’t give for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. At least she’d found a pair of boots at the bottom of one of the trunks that fit her better than those tight black ones she’d worn yesterday.
Tyler’s anger last night had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. She’d crossed the line big time when she showed up at the front door dressed in only his shirt. She’d only meant to do him a favor and make him the envy of his friends. Guys usually liked that sort of stuff, and the looks on the men’s faces were priceless. Except, Tyler wasn’t pleased.
She thought for sure she would score some points with her act. His anger had been completely unexpected. Her shock at his brutal, almost violent kiss left her standing stiff like a robot. He had manhandled her at first, and for a moment she’d even thought he would force himself on her, but when the kiss changed to something else, something much softer, the hot wave of desire that spread from her limbs to her very center had been as startling as his initial assault.
Laney shivered as a delicious chill shot down her spine at the memory. She’d been attracted to Tyler from the moment she first laid eyes on him in town, but real desire for a guy was something that hadn’t happened to her in quite a while. In fact, she couldn’t ever remember such overpowering feelings as what his embrace and kiss had evoked. It had scared her to the point that she pushed him away. She couldn’t afford to lose her heart to another guy. Every time she’d let herself get close for someone, it had always ended in disappointment. Besides, she wasn’t staying in this century any longer than necessary.
Embarrassment with her actions had mixed with disappointment. Tyler was unlike any guy she’d ever met. He’d been nothing but polite and reserved up until that point, and few people had ever treated her with the care he’d shown her all day.
After tossing and turning for most of the night, she concluded that it had been her own fault at how he’d reacted. She really needed to remember where she was, and in what year. The reverend had advised her not to reveal that she had time traveled. No one would believe such an outrageous story anyway, and Laney had no plans to get tossed in the nuthouse. Tyler probably already thought she was nothing but a tramp.
Laney laughed. That’s because you are a tramp.
She stared in the mirror, and her smile vanished. Wasn’t she here to turn her life around? No one knew of her past. She’d hinted about it to Tyler yesterday, but she really had to make an effort to fit in, if she wanted the kind of opportunity the reverend had promised her back home.
Tyler’s behavior baffled her. What man stormed off to sleep alone after such a kiss? Why would a man want a wife in this century when he wasn’t interested in her? He’d already suggested that she take over the cooking chores. By the looks of the house, he needed a cleaning lady, too. Was that why he sent for a wife?
I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m not going to blow this chance. If I have to scrub floors to keep him happy, then that’s what I’ll do.
Coming on to him was definitely the wrong tactic. He hadn’t been pleased when she came to the bunkhouse, either. She was in a century where a man called all the shots. It was going to be difficult not to step over the social boundaries of this time. She didn’t even know what most of those boundaries were. She’d simply have to wait and see, and get a better feel for the man she was supposed to keep satisfied.
Then there was the problem of finding out what was wrong with Tyler’s stallion. In order to do that, she had to actually see the horse, and for that, she needed to get on someone’s good side. That someone was preferably Tyler. Hopefully he would be on speaking terms with her this morning.
Laney ran a brush through her hair. It was the best she could do. There was no way she could replicate that hairstyle from yesterday, even if she had access to a curling iron. Maybe she could find some string to tie it in a ponytail, but she’d always preferred to wear her hair loose.
Satisfied with her appearance, Laney headed for the door. As best as she could guess, it was well past seven in the morning, probably even later. Her eyes fell to the shirt that lay draped over the chair. Tyler’s shirt. The shirt she hastily grabbed from his room last night when she pulled off her stupid stunt. She’d worn it all night. The scent of leather, horses, and masculine sweat had enveloped her, and an odd feeling of safety and security had cocooned her during the long, dark hours. It was almost as if Tyler himself had held her in his arms.
Laney shook her head. Ridiculous romantic notions. Concentrate on the horse, and get back home as quickly as possible.
The house was extremely quiet when she reached the main room. The only sound came from the occasional creak of a floorboard as she walked across the room. Laney admired the massive stone fireplace that consumed an entire wall. An oil painting of a dark bay horse standing proudly on a windswept hill hung over a split-log mantle. She stepped closer, admiring the painting. Was that Tyler’s stallion? Somehow she had to find the horse and not draw attention to herself when she inspected him. She couldn’t very well tell Tyler that she would like to perform massage therapy on the animal. She’d most likely be called crazy if she tried that.
The strong scent of rawhide infused the air. A large leather sofa and chair faced the fireplace. A small wooden table that held a crystal oil lamp stood in one corner. Other than tack and saddles that were haphazardly piled around everywhere, the rest of the room was rather bare. This was most definitely a man’s domain. Simple and minimalistic, but it had so much potential with the right decorator.
Golden light shone in through a glass-paned window, which offered a breathtaking view of the corrals and barns. Laney headed toward the kitchen, which was no more than a large alcove and looked to have been added on to the house after it was built. How on earth was she going to figure out how to use that cast-iron cooking stove? Tentatively, she peered through the grate at the bottom where she assumed the fire would be lit. A wash table lined one wall, complete with a large-handled pump. The sink was nothing but a wooden basin that held a porcelain bowl. There was no drain. Shelves lined the wall, and held countless tin cans, and some plates and bowls. She tentatively opened the small cabinet to find pots and pans and more utensils.
Laney blew out a long breath of air through her open mouth. She would learn how to cook on this stove, dammit. Maybe the guy who fixed meals at the bunkhouse would be willing to show her how. Her stomach growled loudly at the thought of food, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours. After talking to Tyler at the corral yesterday, she’d rushed back to the house and into her room. She’d almost cried in front of him after hinting about her horrid past, and had to get away. If Tyler brought food, she couldn’t remember. He certainly hadn’t disturbed her. She’d fallen into a restless sleep until well into the night, and awoke from the lou
d noise those cowboys made outside.
Her eyes fell to the square table in the center of the small space. A plate sat on the wooden surface, covered with a red and white-checkered cloth. A piece of paper lay next to the plate.
Thought you might be hungry this morning
The note was scrawled in pencil and looked to have been written in haste, but a warm feeling rushed through her. When had a guy ever been thoughtful enough to do something like this?
Laney pulled the covering off the plate to reveal several biscuits along with something that vaguely resembled bacon and potatoes swimming in grease. Famished, she didn’t care what it was and dug in. She ate nearly half the food, trying her best to fish out the chunks of potato from the oily ooze.
A horse whinnied. It was time to head outside. Maybe she’d find Tyler in one of the barns. After a quick detour to the outhouse that sat a short distance behind the house, Laney made her way past the first corrals and headed toward one of several barns further down the lane. Horses grazed contently, their occasional snorts and the squeaking of the windmill blades the only sounds that disrupted the otherwise peaceful quiet.
When she reached the first barn, the rhythmic cadence of a cantering horse reached her ears. Curious, Laney moved around to the back of the barn. A large round pen came into view. A saddled, dark bay horse loped in a circle inside the perimeter of the pen. A man sat on the top rail of the fence, and another man stood in the center. Laney’s heart sped up unexpectedly. Tyler.
Hesitantly, she moved closer. Tyler’s body pivoted, following the movement of the horse as it ran around him. He held a lasso in his hand, and whenever the horse slowed its pace, Tyler tossed the end of the rope at the horse’s hind legs to make it speed up again. Every now and then, he stepped forward and in front of the horse, holding his hand up, and the animal turned and changed direction. Tyler immediately waved his arm at the horse to canter off again.
Laney watched, mesmerized. Tyler seemed to know a split second before the horse wanted to slow down or turn in the other direction, and with the way he stepped forward or turned, or moved his hands, communicated to the animal what he wanted it to do. Her feet carried her to the edge of the pen without even thinking.
Ain't No Angel Page 8
