Pretending to Wed

by Melissa Jagears

  She paused, looking out at the barely lit sky. “Kurt’s late wife left him lots of money, so he didn’t need to marry for security. After a few compliments from him, I became enamored. I told myself I could see loneliness in his eyes—that all he needed was love—my love.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Do you recall asking me if I read novels?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I didn’t lie. I’ve never had much time to read any, but I’m sure the fantasies my seventeen-year-old self dreamed up could rival those stories. I’d not felt loved in a long time, not since my mother died when I was young. A boy I’d grown up with had recently humiliated me, and though my sister is only a year younger than I am, we were so very different and things had changed between us.”

  She turned to stare back out the window. “Anyway, once I thought Kurt found me as charming as I found him, I failed at keeping my feelings concealed. I was desperate to be accepted, though scared at the same time because, well, let’s just say, boys never really liked me. My sister Yvonne was prettier and well…”

  She swallowed hard and closed her eyes.

  A part of him wanted to tell her she didn’t have to continue, but it’d probably be best to know this at some point. Despite uncertainty, he reached over and squeezed her hand.

  She squeezed back halfheartedly then let go. “Sorry. Anyway, when Christmas Day came and went without a letter from anyone in my family, Kurt wished me a merry Christmas, and I broke down, telling him I hadn’t had one in a long time. He sat and listened to my struggles as if he really cared.”

  She thumped her chest, as if her heart was aching with that feeling once again. “From then on, he talked to me every day, asked how I was, lamented about his own problems. I’d never felt so special.

  “But one day…” Her voice disappeared for a moment and she closed her eyes. “One day, in the middle of a heart-to-heart, I told him no one cared for me.” She turned to glance at Nolan, tears gleaming on her lower lashes. “That no one wanted me…”

  She cleared her throat and stared out the window as if the cloudless gray sky riveted her. “I suppose when a young woman throws herself at a man after revealing she hasn’t a tie in the world, that proves more than a little enticing.”

  Nolan pressed his lips together to keep from cursing a man he didn’t know. Regardless of what she’d done, he’d been the adult.

  “We engaged in what you’d suspect following such a story. Over the next few weeks, my fear of never finding a man who’d love me melted away because he spent his every spare moment with me. I was sure he was going to marry me.” She turned to give him a sad, self-deprecating smile.

  Nolan shook his head. “I’m sorry, he—”

  She cut him off with her hand. “Whatever his faults may have been, I was reveling in those heady feelings and not thinking clearly. I wasn’t prudent and told everyone we were to be married, but the longer we played husband and wife…” She stopped and swallowed hard. “When I’d first started working for him, a single look would warm me all over, his touches made me shiver.”

  Maybe she did understand what a touch could do. Did she feel that way at all about him?

  She straightened and her gaze turned steely, though it wasn’t directed at him. “But those fluttery feelings amounted to nothing. Once the newness of our relationship wore off, he became frustrated with how I responded to him—or rather, how I didn’t. Considering we weren’t married, I couldn’t ask any women for advice. All I’d ever overheard was how a wife was supposed to submit to her duty, and I did, despite saying no vows. But evidently what he’d experienced with his first wife … well, I didn’t measure up. I wasn’t enough. That’s always what I’ve been.”

  Nolan pinched the bridge of his nose instead of reaching out to her again. He could sympathize with not being enough, doing his utmost to make someone happy but have them yank away what was promised.

  “Our love soured once intimacy became a chore. At first, he blamed me because I’d let others know we were together. He thought their negative opinions were affecting me, so he moved us to a suburb where we could start over with new staff. He said we had to be sure we were compatible.”

  The desire to pull her close was nearly overwhelming, but he kept his arms folded across his chest.

  She gave him a quick glance. “As you can guess, we never became physically compatible, and he decided we should take a break. Within three months, right in front of me, he introduced his son to a woman he’d met through a co-worker. The look on his face told me everything I needed to know.”

  The silence grew along with the sunlight spilling in around the curtain.

  After a few more ticks of the clock, she glanced at him, but broke eye contact immediately. “As I said, God had to extend more forgiveness to me than I’d ever thought I’d need, and hopefully will ever need again. My sin had given me insight into what marriage to me would be like though. I swore I’d never allow myself, or anyone else, to be disappointed again, and yet I met a man in Rapid City who I thought was good and trustworthy. I let hope grow. I did everything properly with him, but it wasn’t enough. Attraction, love, infatuation—they all give you hope that everything will be all right. But sometimes, you’re just not enough.”

  He closed his eyes, his body aching, knowing he couldn’t pull her to him to comfort her. Knowing if he told her she was mistaken, she’d not believe him. But then again, what did he know? Her experience far exceeded his own. Yet at the same time, he just couldn’t believe she’d been as disappointing as these men made her feel. Were they even worthy of her? Had they actually loved her?

  If he were in love with her, would knowing what had happened in her past change how he felt? He just hadn’t any idea. “So that’s your reason against marrying?”

  She nodded. “Those men have moved on, happy with who they chose. I figured it’d be wrong to steal anyone else’s chance at getting everything he hoped for by attaching himself to me. I thought it best I no longer waste my time or anyone else’s.”

  Nolan retook her hand, thankful she didn’t pull away. “I want you to know, I don’t think you’re a waste of my time. I still think you’re all the things I listed when you asked me what I thought about you. Plus now, I’m adding strong to the list.”

  She sputtered while shaking her head. “My story shouldn’t have given you any reason to add to my list of good qualities.”

  “I’ll add conscientious, too.”

  A derisive snort escaped her. “I wish I were that, for if I was, I’d not have gotten into those messes to begin with.”

  “Sometimes the trials we bring upon ourselves are the worst we face, but you learned from yours. So I’ll add that you’re a good learner, too.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I certainly did put myself through disaster, but it took a long time to learn anything from it. Anyway…” She started playing with the quilt’s loose thread again. “I thought you ought to know I’m no innocent. That I understand that my being here, well, I understand you’ve been robbed of what men desire. I realize you’re trapped, too, in a way, and that if you know there will be no romance between us, if you have no illusions about things being … good. Well, if you need me to submit—”

  “No, no. Stop right there.” She was not going to offer that. “It’s business partners or lovers. I won’t live in the in-between.”

  She stared at him for a moment as if she didn’t understand what he’d said, but then nodded and patted his knee. “Then as your business partner, you need to let me help you. Like I said, I’ve been far more intimate than this with a man before. If you’re uncomfortable with me for some reason, then you need to find someone else, because I’m depending on you to make this ranch flourish. Perhaps Timothy could help? Tell him my hands aren’t strong enough, pay him extra, find a way.”

  She stood. “I’ll go now. And don’t count on me to be back at any particular time.”

  Then she slipped out the door.

  His
breath rushed out and he sunk back under the covers.

  This convenient marriage had just gotten much harder—or maybe more permanent. With such a dismal outlook on marriage, would she ever let herself fall in love with him if he fell in love with her?

  How had he ever convinced himself this was a good idea?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Nolan tried to concentrate on the book in front of him, but the words may as well have been in Greek. He leaned back against the sofa and stretched his arm out to push aside the parlor curtain. The clouds were thick, but the silence in the house was thicker. The clock said it was only five past six.

  At least Matt was gone.

  When he’d asked his cousin when he intended to leave, Matt had said he’d find a room in town and packed up. Seemed he truly was determined to buy a ranch.

  Though he’d always complained Matt never kept his nose to the grindstone, did this have to be the project he stuck with? They might be family, but didn’t his cousin realize he’d rather not be neighbors?

  Well, at least he was off the property—and no longer at his dinner table from morning until night.

  And Corinne? He’d watched her drive straight back to her cabin around three-thirty.

  The clock’s tick echoed in the quiet.

  Too quiet. Quiet allowed him to think—and after what Corinne had suggested this morning, thinking was not what he wanted to do. His thoughts kept wandering to that which he’d told Corinne he’d not entertain.

  She had said she’d explained her past so he’d know she wasn’t a woman ignorant of men—and yet, it seemed she didn’t realize the mere mentioning of being intimate with him would drive him absolutely insane.

  A man didn’t have to be in love with a woman to have difficulty keeping his mind from imagining her in his arms and in his bed, especially if she seemed willing to go there. With them being married, there was nothing wrong with doing such.

  He shook his head hard and flipped the book’s pages back to the last place he remembered what he was reading. He’d been far better off when he’d thought her definition of romantic nonsense was giving her flowers and calling her “sugar.”

  None of the words in front of him looked familiar. What was he reading, anyway? He flipped the book to read the spine, frowned at the unfamiliar title, then tossed the book onto the sofa beside him.

  He had to get out of this house and do something. He growled at his empty pant leg before snatching up his crutches.

  Sal and the men were in the barn, and when he’d gone out earlier, they’d refused to let him help. He moved to the back door and squinted against the overcast light, spotting the wagon behind a tree near the cabin. He couldn’t tell if it’d been unloaded.

  He pivoted and stared at his artificial leg in the corner. Doc had told him not to wear it until his sore was completely healed. But walking to the cabin on crutches was too much—riding, overkill.

  He turned to look at the clock. Two whole minutes had passed.

  After snatching up his leg, he worked to put it on, and winced only slightly with his first step. He’d just force himself to walk slowly.

  When he stepped out the front door, a billow of dust caught his attention.

  Please let it not be Matt.

  Within seconds, the wind swirled enough that he could make out Annie’s red hair beside Jacob’s black hat. Good, he could use a ride to the cabin, and now he wouldn’t have to wait until his leg healed to ride over to talk to Jacob.

  He stepped off the porch and waited for his friends to pull up. Spencer was poised to jump off, and once they passed the well, he took a flying leap.

  Oh, to be able to do that again.

  Jacob stopped the wagon. “We’ve come to invite you and your wife to dinner next week.”

  “That’s kind of you. I doubt there’s a reason to say no, but we should check with Corinne to be sure. I was about to go out to the cabin to see if she needed help unloading. You mind giving me a ride?”

  “Get in.”

  Spencer climbed back into the wagon as if he were a monkey. “I’ll help, too.”

  Nolan hoisted himself onto the bed beside the young man, and Spencer scooted closer as Jacob turned the team.

  “Does your leg still hurt you?”

  Nolan stilled his hand—he had started massaging his leg without realizing it. “If you mean from when I got it cut off, no. But sometimes it hurts from having to use it.”

  “What about phantom pains? You have those? Old Mr. York—” Spencer jabbed his finger to the south where the man lived with his brother, surrounded by twenty miles of nothing. “He told me his missing leg feels like it’s still there sometimes. Hurts, too.”

  “I’ll occasionally feel something like that. Sometimes I reach down to scratch my leg and realize I can’t.”

  Spencer’s eyes widened. “You mean you can’t make the itch go away? Is that why Mr. York’s so grumpy?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think I’m grumpy?”

  “Not most of the time—or at least, I don’t think so.” Spencer poked his wooden leg. “Can you feel that?”

  “I can feel you move my leg, but no, I don’t feel it.”

  “But you have an itch there?”

  “On occasion, yes.”

  “Are you worried you’ll go crazy since you can’t itch your itch and get sent to the madhouse?”

  “Spencer.” Annie’s voice held a warning tone.

  “It’s all right. He can ask me what he wants.” He patted Spencer’s leg. “Next time you get an itch, try ignoring it. Itches go away on their own after a while.”

  “Did your leg get blown off like Mr. York’s?”

  Seemed Spencer had swallowed a curiosity bug that was desperate to escape. The boy had never asked him about his leg before. “No, though I sometimes wish it had, because then the government might help me buy a better leg. I was only a few years older than you though, nothing more than an accident while tending my horse.”

  Spencer frowned and threw a quick glance up to the front of the wagon.

  Nolan patted the boy’s arm. “Don’t you worry it’ll happen to you. Just listen to your parents and do what they say to keep safe.”

  “So you disobeyed your parents and got hurt?”

  “No. Mine was a complete accident, but it sure taught me to respect the power animals have over us, even if they’re big ol’ softies.”

  And women held a similar power—no matter how uninterested in romance they were.

  In seconds, one horse’s decision had changed his entire life, and Corinne? Everything she did and said from now on could change his life completely—he’d been stupid to think otherwise. She’d turned his world upside down this morning, and they’d only been married two weeks.

  Before the wagon stopped, Spencer jumped off again.

  “If you don’t want to lose a leg like me, you might want to stop doing that.”

  “You listen to Nolan.” Annie blew out an exasperated breath. “He’s off and over and into everything these days. Why, yesterday, he jumped out of a tree and onto our roof—liked to scare the life out of me.”

  Before he could respond, the boy rushed into the cabin.

  “Spencer, no!” Came Corinne’s panicked voice.

  “Oh, boy.” Nolan hopped off the back, but Annie was faster and disappeared inside.

  Once he caught up, Corinne was standing between Spencer and a collection of bottles on the makeshift table behind her. “You can’t touch or knock over anything. These are chemicals. Some could eat into your skin.”

  Spencer was undaunted. “What are you doing with them?”

  Corinne straightened and took a deep, ragged breath.

  Had Spencer scared her that badly? What did she have in those bottles?

  She turned to Annie. “I’m sorry I snapped at him, but one wrong move and—” She froze as if she’d about said something she shouldn’t. “Well, it’s bad.”

  “How bad?” Spencer craned his nec
k to peer around her.

  “Bad enough you don’t want to find out.” Turning, she pulled a white cloth out of a bowl with tongs. “Right now, I’m trying to get rid of this stain. See? It’s axle grease. The new livery man isn’t careful when it comes to his clothing, so I’m hoping to make it easier for Mrs. Whitsett to clean.”

  “What’s that one?” Spencer pointed to the bowl next to the first.

  “Another linen square with axle grease but in a different solution.” She plopped the first one back into its bowl. “I haven’t had time to play with these before now.” She snapped her head up and pulled out her pocket watch. “Goodness, I didn’t realize how late it was.”

  Nolan stepped farther into the cabin and noted the haphazard piles, just like at the laundry. Maybe she was like Timothy who insisted he couldn’t clean up after himself because he’d not know where anything was.

  Jacob ducked into the doorway behind him. “Nolan said you might need help moving things in?”

  “No, I finished earlier.”

  Nolan frowned at the big barrels in the corner. They’d hardly budged when they’d brought the first one home. “Did the men help?”

  “I didn’t want to bother them.”

  “Was that wise? You should ask for help rather than endanger yourself.” Nolan walked over to the barrel closest to the door and surreptitiously bumped it to see if it was empty. It didn’t move a millimeter. He’d known she was a strong woman, but—

  “With mechanical advantage, you can do almost anything. I made myself a ramp and lever.” She smiled down at Spencer and beckoned him toward a pile of stuff on a rickety table in the corner. “Have you ever played with a buzz saw? Simple machines make fun toys, too.”

  At the promise of a dangerous-sounding toy, Spencer lit up. “No, ma’am, I haven’t.”

  Corinne pulled out a circular piece of wood with string passing through two drilled holes in the middle. “I saw a child playing with one of these back in Chicago, and I like to make them to give away. Watch this.” She squatted down in front of Spencer and showed him how to wind up the string to make the wooden circle spin in a mesmerizing blur.