Tanzy looked up, surprise and humor showing in the set of her mouth and her shining eyes. “I was just put out he closed the door on you. What’s he got against you?”
“Why don’t you go back to your room? You’ve got time to rest up before dinner.”
Tanzy stopped in the street and squared up to him. “I won’t be kept in the dark about things that concern me. My father and brothers tried to do that. They soon discovered I didn’t take it kindly.”
“I don’t take kindly to being given orders,” Russ said, firing up. He’d let her have her way about the doctor, but now was a good time to make it clear he was going to be the one making the decisions in his household. “I won’t keep you in the dark about matters I think concern you, but don’t think you’re going to pry things out of me just because you’re curious.”
“I have no doubt you’ll talk to me about what you think concerns me, but that’s where I expect we’ll have a problem. It never occurs to men that what you do for a living, who you fight, whether we have any money, affects women and children. We’re just supposed to be content to let the men make all the decisions. I’ve seen the results of that, and you might as well know from the start, I’ll not have it. If you can’t respect me enough to tell me what’s going on, you don’t respect me enough for me to be your wife.”
Oh, hell! He was in for it now. How did you tell a prickly woman you weren’t trying to keep things from her but you weren’t going to let her run roughshod over you? Was it even worth the trouble? Damn Welt. If it hadn’t been for his interference, things wouldn’t be so complicated.
Tanzy considered her situation while she waited to go downstairs to meet Russ for dinner. He seemed more like a despot than she would have liked, but he compensated to some degree by being exceptionally attractive. She kept telling herself she shouldn’t be so impressed with his looks.
His parting words made her feel uneasy. She’d spent most of her life surrounded by men—stubborn, bull-headed, opinionated—who believed women were useful only for having babies and taking care of a man’s house and his physical needs. She hoped Russ wasn’t like that. She pulled out his five letters and read them through again. They spoke of a man’s need for companionship, of a woman’s need for security. He promised to provide her with all the creature comforts within his means in exchange for a well-managed household. He said he hoped they’d come to respect and value each other as the years went by, to find solace in their children and contentment with each other. Did he want a wife he could love, who could love him? It didn’t seem important to him. For herself, she’d be content as long as they could respect each other.
Her father had treated his wife and daughter as chattel, with no rights or need for consideration. The only time Tanzy’s mother had shown any spunk was when she insisted Tanzy be allowed to go to school. Then one day it seemed her mother grew tired of life, and she just died. Her father buried her, told Tanzy to make sure supper was ready on time, and went on as if nothing had happened.
One of the girls at school talked about wanting to fall in love, but the other girls laughed at her, said all falling in love ever did was to swell a girl’s belly with no husband in sight. Besides, by the time you eliminated everybody related to you, those with some physical defect, of those you simply disliked too much to marry under any circumstances, there weren’t many men in the Kentucky hills to choose from. Strangers weren’t welcome. Men were more likely to leave than come to settle.
Nearly all marriages were arranged. After her father and brothers died—all killed in a feud more important to them than life—her uncle had intended to marry her to his son. Aside from looking enough like an opossum to be one, the man had different colored eyes, a blue one that stared straight ahead and a brown one that sometimes wandered off to the side. Tanzy had fled during the night.
St. Louis, where she’d been able to find work only in a gambling hall, had been just as bad. One night a respected banker nearly raped her. She realized it would happen again, and no one would care. One friend, Angela, had tried to talk her into being a mail-order bride as she was planning to do. When Tanzy balked, Angela wrote the letters for her. After Tanzy had been in St. Louis four months, her friend left to marry her husband. It was the letters she wrote back, saying she was blissfully happy, that the West was full of honest men longing for wives, that convinced Tanzy to write the final letter saying she was willing to travel to Boulder Gap.
Considering what lay behind her, she didn’t understand why she wasn’t anxious to marry Russ as soon as she could get him in front of a preacher. The man had his own ranch, was as handsome as any she’d ever seen, had promised to keep her safe and secure, and looked strong enough to do it.
She got up from the small bureau where she’d spent thirty frustrating minutes trying to arrange her hair. A Kentucy woman rolled her hair into a bun and pinned it tight so it wouldn’t come down. In St. Louis, women arranged their hair so it was attractive. She had tried to do the same, but no number of pins had ever been able to contain her rioting curls.
It wasn’t that she thought she was unattractive, but Dorrie Spaugh’s stylish dress had made Tanzy acutely aware of her shabby clothes. She told herself no rancher would expect his wife to be a fashion plate. Besides, she knew all about cows. Except for pigs, they were just about the dirtiest animals on any farm.
She stood, impatient to leave the room. She whisked herself down the stairs and into the hotel lobby. She would wait there for Russ.
A man she didn’t recognize was behind the hotel desk. “Are you Miss Gallant?” he asked.
“Yes.” She wondered if Russ had been delayed or wasn’t coming.
“Sorry I wasn’t here when you came in this afternoon. Sick as a dog,” he said, pointing to his stomach.
That’s okay,” Tanzy said, hoping to forestall a graphic description.
The man beckoned her closer. “I promised Russ I’d see to you if he wasn’t here,” he said in a whisper.
“Why are you whispering?” Tanzy asked.
“Mr. Pullet don’t like Russ. If he knew I’d as much as talked to him, I wouldn’t have a job.”
“Then why not stay away from him?”
“Russ has helped me out a time or two. That’s more than anybody else has done.”
Archie had a bulbous nose, a florid complexion with discolored splotches, and no hair atop his head but plenty coming out of his ears and in his shaggy eyebrows.
“I told him not to come here,” the man whispered.
“Why shouldn’t he come here?” Tanzy asked. She was curious to know why Stocker disliked Russ and why it mattered so much to the rest of the town.
“He shouldn’t be in town at all.” He turned away when a man entered the hotel and went directly to the restaurant. “You can sit over in that corner,” he said, pointing to a sofa behind a potted plant. “People won’t be able to see you, but you’ll be able to see when Russ comes in.”
“Why should I hide behind a plant?”
“You’ll find out.” That’s all he said before disappearing again.
Tanzy was confused and irritated. She didn’t know what people had against Russ, but she hadn’t done anything wrong and she had no intention of hiding. She sat down on a sofa where she could easily be seen by anyone entering the lobby. Russ arrived before anyone else came in.
If he had been handsome before, he was breathtaking now. He wore a plain black suit with a white shirt and a string tie. He’d shaved and combed his dark brown hair straight back. With his strong nose, full lips, and prominent jaw, he looked like a proud warrior. When he smiled, his teeth seemed especially white against his tanned face. His eyes didn’t smile, but they generated a disturbing intensity he focused entirely on her. She felt heat stir within her.
“Are you feeling more rested?” he asked.
“Much better,” she said as she stood. “I even had time for a short nap.”
An unsmiling waiter led them to a table at the back of the re
staurant. Tanzy got the feeling he was hiding them.
“Let’s order,” Russ said. “You must be starving.”
Once they had ordered their food, Russ asked her about her trip.
“It’s lucky you were out riding,” Tanzy said when she’d reached the point of the attempted robbery.
“There have been some robberies lately. I thought it might be a good idea to meet you.”
“That was very thoughtful. I don’t know anybody who’d go so far out of his way on the chance there might be trouble.”
Tanzy thought Russ looked slightly uncomfortable, but she figured he felt awkward at being thanked. Most men did. He seemed relieved when their food arrived. While they ate, Russ told her about his ranch and his plans for the future. By the time the waiter removed the dishes and left them to enjoy their coffee, they had pretty much caught up on each other.
“Why did you decide to be a mail-order bride?” Russ asked.
She hadn’t expected that question. “When I was in St. Louis, it was made very clear to me that having taken a job in a gambling hall, I was no longer respectable. I’m telling you this because I don’t want to keep any secrets from you, but I don’t want it to be the first thing people in Boulder Gap learn about me. I don’t want to be pigeonholed as I was in St. Louis.”
“Why did you go to St. Louis?”
“I had to leave home if I wanted to find a husband.”
“You’re a pretty woman. I’m sure you could have had your pick of the men in Kentucky.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. My uncle was going to force me to marry his son. Otis looks like an opossum and has a wandering eye.”
“I promise I’ll be faithful to you.”
“I mean his eyes don’t look in the same direction. They aren’t the same color, either. And lest you think I’m totally vain, I almost hated him.”
“Surely there were other men who’d fight for the chance to marry you.”
“My family was feuding, which meant we lived in a closely knit clan, the women allowed to marry only when and whom the men permitted. That was the way to cement alliances. Now it’s your turn to explain why you’re not married. You own a ranch and are very attractive. Surely you could find someone to marry you.”
“There are very few women in the Territory, and none of them around here are going to marry me. At least, not any that are respectable.”
“That’s important; that she be respectable, I mean.”
His eyes turned hard. “I don’t want anything to do with a loose woman. I’m not the easiest man to live with, but I’ll take care of my wife and make sure she comes to no harm. In return I demand complete fidelity.”
Tanzy had no problem with fidelity, but she wondered what was behind the angry words.
“You’ve got no business being here, Tibbolt,” interrupted a man who came up to the table.
“Last time I checked it was a free country, Henry.”
Then feel free to go someplace else. We don’t want you here.”
“If you’re so unhappy with having me about, why don’t you feel free to go someplace else?”
Henry turned to Tanzy. “You look like a respectable young woman. If you value that reputation, you’ll have nothing to do with this man.” He turned back to Russ. “Don’t hang around town after dinner.”
“I thought I’d treat myself to a few days at the boardinghouse,” Russ said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Henry’s expression grew apoplectic. “We don’t want your kind around. You’ve got no business here. Get back to your mountains and stealing cows.”
Russ’s eyes seemed to grow dark and hard. “You’ll regret those words one of these days.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“You’re a fool to let Stocker tell you what to do and how to think. My old man wasn’t worth much, but he used to think you were one of the few men in Boulder Gap with some backbone. Now catch up with your wife before she starts thinking you’re hanging around me so you can ogle Miss Gallant.”
Henry swelled up like a blow toad, turned on his heel, and stalked off.
Tanzy noticed several other people in the restaurant had been listening intently to this exchange. “I hope you’re going to explain why everybody hates you so much. I’m not a woman who hankers after company all the time, but I’ll have to think twice about marrying a man who seems to inspire virtually universal dislike.”
“It’s Stocker Pullet’s doing. I can’t blame him for hating me for killing his brother, even though it was a fair fight, but it was ten years ago. It’s time to forget it. But he feels I’ve dragged the Pullet pride through the dirt—it’s the only time anybody ever stood up to his family and made them pay for what they’d done—and he won’t be able to forget it until he runs me out of Colorado.”
Tanzy felt some of her bright hopes begin to fade. Russ had killed a man. It didn’t matter that it was a fair fight. The only thing that allowed her to continue to hope was that the killing had happened ten years ago. That was plenty of time for a man to change, plenty of time for feelings to cool.
“Will you leave?” she asked.
“No. This is my home as much as it is his. But it’s not something you have to worry about. I haven’t caused any trouble since then.” He smiled reassuringly. “I’ve become a model citizen.”
Tanzy had an uneasy feeling despite his assurances. Maybe Russ had put the past behind him, but it didn’t sound like Stocker had. Back home no one forgot a killing. Ever. It carried over from father to son, spilled over to include uncles and cousins. Anyone who married into the family was expected to take up the feud. It could last for generations and destroy dozens of lives. It was just about the worst thing she could think of.
But it took two people to feud. As long as Russ refused to fight, she didn’t see what Stocker could do. “I’m glad to know you’re such an upstanding citizen,” Tanzy said, “but I have a condition to make.”
“You should have told me about any condition before I paid for you to come out here. What is it?”
“I don’t want to have any children.”
Chapter Three
Russ had never heard of a woman who didn’t want children. He considered having children a part of having a wife. In his mind a family came as a unit, the parts inseparable from one another. “Why don’t you want children?” he asked.
“Do you?”
“Of course. What man doesn’t?”
“Some men don’t. Why do you want them?”
“I have to have somebody to leave the ranch to.”
“You can leave it to your wife, your hands, your local school district, even your church.”
“Why would I work so hard to build a ranch, then leave it to strangers?”
“So you could make a good living for yourself and provide your wife with a few luxuries. It’s also a way to prove to people you’re a success, a way to prove you’re just as important as Stocker Pullet.”
None of that appealed to him. It wasn’t that what she said was wrong, but somehow not having children left a hole in the middle of everything. He didn’t need children to run the household or do the work on the ranch. It would be easier to hire someone to do those jobs. So why did he want them? Certainly not to wake him up in the middle of the night crying, or to waste his money on gambling or extravagant weddings.
“Don’t you have any family you can leave it to?” Tanzy asked.
“No. My mother lost touch with her family after she and her first husband came West. When he was killed in a freighting accident, she needed someone to support her, her young daughter, and the baby she was carrying. Her second husband didn’t like me. He resented that I ate so much food, was so big, so restless, and was always getting into trouble.”
He hadn’t meant to tell Tanzy so much about himself, hadn’t even realized how much he still resented the way his mother sided with any man against him. Russ had always felt alone even when he hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Why are you so set against children?” Russ asked.
“I’m not set against children, just what they can do to a woman. Children may be important to men, but they’re an integral part of a woman’s life. We carry them, nurse them, take care of their hurts of body and soul. My mother had four sons and one daughter, and she loved us as much as any woman could. Yet she had to watch those four sons die because of a stupid feud that has been going on for more than a generation. I watched her die a little bit every time, until finally she just didn’t want to live anymore.”
“So you aren’t the one who felt the loss.”
She reacted almost as if he’d slapped her. They were my brothers. Of course I felt the loss. No families are closer than mountain families, and no women work harder to take care of their men than mountain women. Seeing my brothers die was practically like losing my own children. I couldn’t feel the loss as much as my mother, but I felt it. I feel it now.”
When she paused he thought she might be about to cry. But though she seemed emotional, she remained dry-eyed.
“I won’t bring children into the middle of a feud where I’ll have to watch them be killed or emotionally devastated. Understand that I do want a family, but I will agree to have one only when I’m convinced they can grow up in safety.”
“Any woman who becomes a wife must expect to have children. It’s just the way things are.”
“Not all women have children.”
“Are you telling me that you don’t intend to have any physical relationship with your husband?”
“I’d never do that.”
“Then how do you expect to avoid having children?”
“There are ways … there are times …” She flushed and looked uncomfortable. “I can’t explain it here. I feel like everybody’s listening.”
Russ was sure people were straining to pick up any fragment of their conversation, but this was too important to put off. “Let’s say we try these ways, observe these times, and you still end up having children. What would you do?” He didn’t know anything about the ways and times she talked about. No woman had ever explained it to him. He just assumed that every woman who slept with a man would have babies. “Would you hate the baby, turn your back on it, or give it away?”
The Reluctant Bride Page 3
