Pretending to Wed

by Melissa Jagears

  Turning, he hightailed it down the back alleyway, not wanting to go through the laundry in case Leah would wonder why he flew past her like he’d been set on fire.

  He might’ve thought he was willing to do most anything to keep from losing his ranch, but was he only trading one type of trouble for another?

  Chapter Ten

  “Not another one.” Lilith lifted one of the saucers she’d insisted everyone use for breakfast, even if they were drinking from clunky coffee mugs. She ran a dainty finger along its edge as if it were covered in filth rather than chipped. “They may not be good quality, but honestly, how can you be trusted with finer dishes if you can’t treat what you have with respect?”

  Nolan glared at his stove instead of his future cousin-in-law. He could inform her there was no need to worry about fine china in this house, but if Matt inherited the ranch, of course she’d drag in hoity-toity stuff. “If you don’t trust someone with china, don’t give it to them. But don’t waste time worrying about these. They were chipped when I got them.”

  She blew out a breath and muttered to herself, “So many things just need to be gone.”

  He stuffed his mouth with three large bites of egg to keep from responding.

  Matt came downstairs with one of Lilith’s trunks on his shoulder. Under his arm was a beat up satchel, possibly Lilith’s companion’s.

  Nolan couldn’t help but sit taller in his chair.

  After dropping the luggage by the stairwell, Matt scanned the place settings, then tromped toward the plate piled high with extra bacon which Miss Flower had prepared for him before heading back upstairs. “Excellent. I’m starving.”

  “So.” Nolan wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin and shot up like a jubilant firecracker. “You’re leaving today? Can I help bring something down? Have you got your train tickets?” He’d pay for first class if it’d get them out faster.

  “Oh, we’re not leaving until tomorrow,” Matt said after swallowing a mouthful of eggs. “It’s just the ladies realized they didn’t need everything they brought. With how small your rooms are, they decided to get stuff out of their way.”

  Tomorrow was better than he’d hoped. “So you’ve got your tickets?” They hadn’t visited town for several days with how busy they’d been inspecting the ranch, writing down every deficiency.

  “Not yet, but we won’t be gone long. We’ll be back in a few weeks to see how things are going.”

  Without any eggs left to stuff in his mouth, he bit his tongue instead. He needed no more of Matt and Lilith’s “supervision.”

  If his talk with Corinne went well this afternoon, he’d have the pleasure of telling them they only needed to return if they wanted to personally deliver a wedding gift. “Are you sure you shouldn’t spend more time in Denver? If country life doesn’t suit, you’ll have to have a job to go back—”

  “No worries there, plus I’m looking forward to returning. The country is so much more relaxing than the hubbub of the city.”

  Nolan snorted. “Ranching is not relaxing. You might’ve been under that impression since Dad coddled you, but my ranch hands did all the wor—”

  “The person who got spoiled was you.” Matt spoke around a mouthful of biscuit and jam. “Ever since your leg came off, you’ve been given the easy tasks. I was the one out riding and roping—”

  “Being given certain types of work because of a physical limitation is not coddling; however, having chores modified to match your irresponsibility is. No telling how many hours my ranch hands spent fixing everything you messed up.”

  “They didn’t.” Matt’s scrunched face turned high pink. “Your father—”

  “Didn’t know. My men wouldn’t have wasted time complaining about the work you caused them. They’re too mature to gripe about a temporary inconvenience.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” Matt smeared the napkin across his face, then dropped it onto his empty plate. “But your dad knew which one of us could handle this place, and it wasn’t you.”

  “Now, gentlemen.” Lilith speared them with her gaze, jabbing her fork at them. “I won’t stand for arguing at my table.”

  Her table? His body nearly shook to keep from snarling at her.

  Jesus likely would’ve encouraged Matt to overcome his faults instead of pointing them out at breakfast, true. But he just couldn’t help his cousin become good enough to take over a ranch he’d done nothing to earn.

  Especially since he was the one who’d literally lost a leg for it!

  Nolan let out a slow, shaky breath. He was a long way from being Jesus—that was certain. “Excuse us, Lilith. We’ll take this elsewhere.”

  “No need.” Matt stood and shoved in his chair. “I’d thought to let you stay once the land became mine, but I’ve changed my mind now. I won’t employ someone who doesn’t know who’s boss.”

  That right there signaled Matt’s unsuitableness more than anything else. “To run a successful ranch, you can’t surround yourself with toadies. You have to realize where you’re weak and hire people to take over those areas for you.”

  Even if it did make a man look pathetic.

  “I know. I’m not stupid.”

  However, knowing the truth was far different than applying it.

  “I don’t think you’re stupid, Matt.” He had a whole list of alternate adjectives he could suggest, but he didn’t want to turn one of his last living relatives into an enemy—any more than he already was. He grabbed his hat. “Now, excuse me. I’ve got to leave.”

  “Where’re you going?” Lilith gave his Sunday suit a quick perusal.

  “To town. Are you sure you don’t want me to pick up tickets?”

  Neither of them answered with more than a glare, so he turned his back and focused on walking away without stomping. He’d never been so happy to leave his own home.

  After checking on the men, he saddled his horse and galloped out of the gate despite how unstable he felt riding at such a quick pace. The more yards he put between himself and his unwelcome houseguests, the easier his breathing grew. When his place was nothing but a speck behind him, he finally slowed. No reason to rush into town. He could stand to be away from his cousin for a good long time. Plus, Corinne’s answer might not be what he wanted to hear.

  She had allowed him time to think rather than take his hundred dollars immediately—a sign she’d not try to take him for all he was worth, but that meant she’d had time to think, too.

  God, please give me favor in Corinne’s sight.

  But with every mile he put behind him, the more his stomach flopped.

  This weekend had only strengthened his resolve to save his land from his cousin, but what if Corinne had decided against him?

  Perhaps he shouldn’t have fought with Dad so much about the ranch. Maybe if he’d been less assertive with how money was spent or less adamant about how his plans were better, Dad would’ve written the will differently.

  He’d always insisted Nolan would need a wife to care for him, as if he were a weakling, as if he were his mother, who’d been left behind because Dad had thought she’d slow them down because of her ill health.

  So Nolan had worked harder and longer than anyone else to be sure his father wouldn’t see him as a burden, too, but when his leg came off…

  Wyoming wouldn’t have been the best place for his mother, true, but neither was it for a cripple.

  He’d done the best he could though, with a grin to boot so his father wouldn’t send him away. But he’d never been able to work as hard as his father had. Nolan had always known he’d likely have to pay a nurse to attend him at the end of his life, and he wouldn’t change that plan. Corinne was not signing on to care for him when he got old. He’d simply have to work harder to save his money since thirty-five percent of the profit would no longer be his.

  As he rode into town, a few passersby gave him strange looks. Did he seem as if he were about to climb onto the gallows?

  His gut sure roiled lik
e that was what was about to happen.

  At the laundry, he tried to swallow whatever nonexistent thing was blocking his airway before forcing himself inside.

  “Oh! Don’t touch that.” Corinne caught a toddling girl who’d run behind the counter, while the frazzled mother juggled two babies on the other side.

  Corinne waved her hand in front of a washbasin. “Hot.”

  The girl’s little blond ringlets bounced as she nodded and pointed at the basin. “Hot!”

  “That’s right, hot.”

  “Hot! Hot! Momma, hot!”

  “Yes, Jemma, hot.” The poor, skinny mother amazingly fixed her skewed shirtwaist while cradling an infant in each arm.

  Jemma hopped on alternate feet as she circled her mother, sing-shouting the word ‘hot,’ as if it were the most interesting word in the world.

  Corinne smiled as if the girl’s tuneless crowing was pleasant. She then hefted a bundle onto the counter, a painful expression contorting her face. “Let’s get this into your wagon.”

  He stepped forward and held out his arms. “Allow me.”

  She gave him a look—as if she suspected ulterior motives.

  “Something more unruly needs you to lug it outside.” He tilted his head toward little Jemma, who’d slipped under a bench with a squeal.

  “Right.” Her smile reappeared, and she moved over to Jemma, hushing the mother’s attempt to keep apologizing. “I’ve got her, no worries.”

  “After you,” he said to the mother.

  Corinne cooed to the little girl to come out and nearly got knocked over when Jemma threw all her weight into Corinne’s open arms.

  He walked outside accompanied by the precious sound of two sets of giggles.

  His heartbeat, which had been galloping since reaching the town’s outskirts, turned sluggish.

  How sad that a relationship gone wrong could take away a woman’s desire to have a family.

  Yet maybe Corinne could still have children. What would stop them from adopting?

  He plopped the basket into the back of the woman’s wagon, and Corinne literally skipped out of the laundry hand in hand with the little girl.

  Corinne swung Jemma up onto the bench seat, but the little urchin kept hold of Corinne’s collar. “Come play wit’ me!”

  “Let go of Miss Stillwater, Jemma.”

  Laughing, Corinne tried to extricate herself. “I wish I could, baby. Maybe another day.”

  The little girl’s eyes turned dewy and her lip quavered. “No, no. Play.”

  “Now, Jemma.” The mother pulled her daughter off Corinne like a spiked bur. “I apologize, Miss Stillwater.”

  Corinne only smiled and waved at the little girl until their wagon was several lengths away. She sighed and headed back onto the porch without a glance toward him.

  Had she forgotten he was there? “Corinne?”

  She startled.

  So she had. What daydreams had she been lost in? Of the babies she’d given up having?

  “I’m sorry, I forgot you were there.”

  He tried not to let that hurt too much. After all, what man could compete with gold ringlets and huge dimples? He tipped his head toward the laundry. “Why don’t we go inside?”

  He followed her in, and she flipped the closed sign over, spun around, and stared at him.

  “I suppose you’ve decided.” She sounded more breathless than that short burst of activity should’ve left her.

  He pulled off his hat and pointed it at the bench. “Sit beside me, if you would.”

  She nodded and waited for him to sit before perching herself on the opposite end.

  “I’ll go first.” He cleared his throat. “I’m willing to follow through with what I offered. A hundred dollars, thirty-five percent of my profits, and no romantic nonsense—as long as you don’t treat me as if I don’t exist. Though I’m not asking for a wife in every sense of the word, our futures will be tied together for a long time, so I’d like us to get along.”

  She nodded, then a look of alarm crossed her face and she shot up and rushed toward the backroom.

  He’d expected her to bolt the first time he’d proposed, but…

  Then the faint odor of burning hit him. And not the smell of a wood fire, but chemical-like. He hobble-ran after her.

  In the far corner, Corinne was using the end of her apron to flick away the steamy vapor enveloping her.

  “Of all the careless things,” she muttered. “What was I thinking?”

  “Are you all right?”

  She startled and whirled about. “I’m fine, just fine.” With a clatter, she pushed a bunch of junk behind her as if hiding it from view. “Just forgot something. Burned it.”

  A beaker charred black rolled to a stop on the counter. What was she doing with a beaker? He’d only seen those kind of jars at the druggist’s.

  “Anyway, no harm done. Shouldn’t have left it going when Mrs. Stout came in, is all.”

  “I—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She gestured for him to head back to the front.

  How could he get back to asking her if she’d marry him? “Anyway—”

  “No need to go through the spiel again. If you have the hundred dollars, I said I’d follow through.”

  That was likely the least exciting answer to a proposal in all of history, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Thank you, Miss Stillwater.”

  Once they returned to the front counter, he opened his billfold and counted out the money despite the sudden jitters filling this stomach. “Would you mind if we get the license today so I don’t have to return later to—” He stopped himself short. Though she wanted everything to be business like, that had sounded cold. “I mean—”

  “Of course, we can. We should get things over with.”

  He flinched.

  She’d agreed to save his land, for Pete’s sake. Nothing she said reflecting the true nature of their arrangement should have made his heart seize like it just had. “I owe you much, Miss Stillwater.”

  “You don’t owe me anything more than a tour of your ranch.”

  “Our ranch.” His insides did a sad little flop with those words, but he bucked himself up. Sharing with Corinne had to be better than handing it over to Matt.

  “Yes.” She looked up at him and swallowed hard. “Our ranch.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Less than a foot of space separated her from Nolan as he drove the livery’s wagon, yet he felt far away. Corinne tried not to fidget, but the silence hung heavy. He’d been solemn at the courthouse when they’d asked for a marriage license, and then he’d looked ill as he watched her send his money to her brother-in-law.

  He’d wanted this marriage desperately considering how he’d gone about obtaining it, so how badly had that hundred dollars put him out?

  As his business partner, she ought to ask. Yet, until they married, prying might not be the wisest thing unless she wanted to pay him back—which she couldn’t do.

  Gazing out over the paintbrush-covered land, she pretended she was on the lookout for his ranch. She’d seen it months ago when she’d been invited to the Hendrixes’. From what she recalled, his place would be over the rise.

  Nothing felt different. The sun was still hot, horses still stank, her hands still hurt, and yet, everything about her life had changed.

  Taking a surreptitious glance to her left, she noted Nolan’s gaze was cemented ahead of him as it had been for miles.

  Maybe getting the license had made it feel real to him, whereas she was still shaking her head in disbelief.

  They cleared the rise and a small puff of cheery smoke rose from one side of a barn that was still far off in the distance, likely where a forge was set up. One of his hands was a metalworker, considering the state of the bunkhouse bedding she washed for Nolan. The distant ting of hammer against metal confirmed her suspicion.

  With a huge inhale, Nolan sat up straighter.

  The ridge that surrounded town was farther a
way, and cattle huddled under trees on nearly every dip and rise. The grasses rippled in front of them as if beckoning them toward the two-story gray house still a quarter mile away on the gently rolling plain. A windmill beside a well house turned with the steady breeze.

  Squinting, she tried to make out what type of vehicle was parked next to the barn. It was finer than any buggy she’d expected Nolan to own.

  Could all these beautiful acres and that large house be hers? She’d recalled it being smaller. “Is this it?”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “Our ranch.”

  She frowned. With how he’d acted the past couple of hours, she’d have thought he’d sound much less happy about that.

  He urged his horse to speed up.

  She lifted a hand to keep hold of her hat. “You seem excited to give me that tour all of a sudden.” She’d wondered for half the trip if he was going to turn around and drive her back.

  He grinned, his eyes bright. “I just realized you won’t be making me pull out silverware to count. Or saucers—do you mind if I have chipped saucers?”

  “What?” She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why should I care about chipped saucers?”

  “Why, indeed?”

  She laughed at his overly satisfied expression. “Though perhaps I should?”

  “Please don’t. Lilith cares more than enough for the both of us.”

  “Lilith?” Something fluttered inside her at the mention of a strange woman’s name.

  “My cousin Matt’s fiancée. I guess I forgot to tell you they showed up. They’re here, I’m sorry to say.”

  Her insides didn’t stop flopping.

  This was it. Within a half hour, someone other than the two of them would know they were engaged.

  Despite the pain in her hands, she clamped onto her seat.

  Now, it felt real.

  “They’ve been acting like they already own the place, despite two more months left to fulfill my father’s will. They’ve counted the silverware, chastised me about chipped dinnerware, wrote a list of ‘improvements’ they intend to make. Treated me like I’m the guest—an unwelcome one, at that.”