The Soldier's E-Mail Order Bride (Heroes of Chance Creek)

by Seton, Cora

  “You want me to clean a chicken coop?” So much for romance.

  “This is life on a ranch, Ella. Are you in or are you out?” The sexy, easy-going cowboy who’d been her companion for the morning so far was gone. This was the military Austin. The one who put up a want ad for his wife.

  “I’m in. I just figured I might get a honeymoon for… oh, I don’t know… twenty-four hours.”

  “We both know a twenty-four hour honeymoon is the last thing we need.

  Ella nodded. He was right, of course. She wasn’t here to fall in love with Austin.

  “I’ll go get those supplies.”

  “I’ll be here waiting for you.” Ella bit her lip. She hadn’t meant that to sound like an invitation. After a long moment, the cowboy nodded and turned on his heel. He strode off around the Hall to where he’d parked his truck. Ella watched him go, then turned back to face the small building with a shake of her head. Time to get to work.

  Fortunately, enough years had passed since chickens had inhabited it that the smell wasn’t overwhelming, but she wanted to be armed with gloves at the very least before she ventured inside.

  She found what she needed in the tool shed. Gloves, a ventilator mask to wear over her mouth and nose—she’d seen mouse droppings when she’d peeked in the door, and she knew how toxic those could be—a small shovel, a rake, a wheelbarrow, and a beat-up broom and dustpan. When she returned to the chicken coop, she positioned the wheelbarrow outside the narrow door and started by shoveling the old, mostly decomposed hay into it. When it was full, she looked around for where to dump it and finally discovered a sad-looking compost pile some yards away. It took several trips to get most of the little building cleaned out. She used the broom to sweep down cobwebs and accumulated dust, then returned to the tool shed to find a small hand broom to reach into the corners to get out the rest. She had vowed to herself a dozen times over that she would burn everything she wore by the time she was done.

  When the inside of the coop was clean enough for a flock of birds, she let herself into the outer enclosure. The run was made from support posts, one-inch chicken wire, and a concrete base. It too was covered with a thick layer of moldy, decomposing hay and she repeated the process she’d used inside, first shoveling the hay into the wheelbarrow and then sweeping up the remainder. She figured she could wash down the concrete floor, but couldn’t find a hose anywhere that would reach. She settled for hauling a few buckets of water from the tap outside the Hall and dumping them over the concrete pad.

  When the job was done, she did a quick sweep of the outside of the house, just to clear up cobwebs and spruce it up. The building could use a cheerful coat of paint, but then every building on the property could. The only thing left she hadn’t checked was the roof. Since Austin still wasn’t back from town, she made her way to the tool shed again, found a ladder and perched on top of it, using the broom to test the wooden shingles to see if any of them were rotten. A flash of movement caught her eye. The boy on the bicycle from the day before. He trundled past quickly, watching her watch him. She shaded her eyes and followed his progress away to the south, then got to work when he disappeared from view. Five minutes later, Austin’s truck finally pulled up and he came directly to see what she was doing. A dog hopped out of the vehicle behind him—a large, shaggy, solid, black-furred creature of indeterminate breed that Ella fell in love with at first sight. She scrambled back down the ladder as it came to inspect her.

  “That’s Milo,” Austin said.

  “Hi, Milo.” She crouched down and let him lick her chin. He sat down, his tail wagging energetically, and let her hug him in return. Perfect. She’d always wanted a dog steady enough to be a comfort. Milo looked like the kind of dog who aimed to please.

  “Did you find a leak?” Austin looked up at the hen house roof.

  “No, just checking things out. It will hold for a few more years. I think.” At least it hadn’t sagged or felt spongy when she tested it.

  “You got the run cleaned up.” He sounded surprised. She stood and wordlessly held open the door to the coop. Austin whistled. “Hell. You did a good job.”

  “Sounds like you expected something different.”

  “You’re an actress. I thought you might act like the job was too much for you.”

  “I’m a grown woman; I’ve done some work in my time. My parents keep horses, I’ll have you know.”

  “Really? So you ride?”

  “Of course I ride. I even did some show jumping as a kid.”

  “Show jumping? Don’t tell me—you ride English?”

  “Is there any other way?”

  Austin snorted. “You want to work a ranch, you’ll learn to ride Western right quick.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Barbaric. You said we’d get horses soon, though. When?”

  “Next week, most likely. As soon as Mason is back. I want his help to pick them out.”

  “I could help you pick them out.”

  “There’s a big difference between show horses and working horses, Hollywood. We’ll wait for Mason. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. It’s just about time for lunch and I don’t know what you want to do with all those vegetables you made me buy.”

  She let his attitude roll off her back and helped haul all the implements back to the tool shed and put them away carefully, appreciating that the Halls took care of things. Each tool had a place and was left ready for its next use. Milo explored the area, sniffing and searching things out, circling around them like he already knew they were his people.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked when she caught Austin looking at her on their way back to the house. “Do I have chicken poop on my nose?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “It’s just… I didn’t expect you to be like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Useful.” He shrugged. “Willing to pitch in. Frankly, after I found out who you were, I figured you would leave within twenty-four hours.”

  “Even after I married you? Is that why you left me alone this morning? To give me a chance to run?” Did he really think she’d leave after he’d rocked her world—twice—yesterday?

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Although we did need some things from town. Mia and Camila say hi, by the way. Fila, the shy one, did, too.”

  “Did you wish I had run?” She held her breath.

  “No.”

  That was all he said and the word was spoken softly, but a warm thrill ran through Ella’s entire body because she didn’t want to leave the ranch, either. Not until she’d gotten to know the cowboy better. Besides, the place was growing on her. It was funny—mucking out the chicken house should have made her resentful, or disgusted, or at the very least hot, tired and annoyed, but instead the experience had grounded her. It had forged a direct connection between her and the ranch, and she liked that. She now could say she’d done something to improve the place. In truth, it had been more than just a pleasing experience. It made her remember who she’d been before she succumbed to all the Hollywood craziness. She couldn’t wait until the stables were stocked with horses. She itched to saddle one up and go for a ride.

  Austin stopped walking. Turned to her. “I figured any woman who answered that ad would use the place as an apartment, coming and going without being a part of any of it.”

  “But you said right in the ad you wanted your wife to work the ranch with you.”

  He shrugged. “Guess I did. It sounded good. I didn’t really believe it was possible, though.”

  They shared a searching look and Ella wondered if Austin was trying as hard to fathom her as she was him. She also wondered if she’d ever find out what had happened to him in Afghanistan. He liked her well enough—that was obvious, but something kept him holding back. Of course, every soldier must be deeply affected by war, but she had the sense that Austin’s wounds went deeper than most. She broke off the staring contest first, bending down to pet Milo, who had worked his way close again. “Maybe you should hose me off outside i
nstead of bringing all this dirt into the Hall.”

  “That could be interesting.”

  She straightened, ready to take advantage of that comment, and caught sight of motion on the road.

  “Hey!” She grabbed Austin’s arm. “See that kid?” She pointed to the boy on the bike she’d seen several times now. “He keeps riding by. Do you know him?”

  Austin shaded his eyes. “No. Can’t say that I do. He’s too far away to get a good look at, though.”

  “He seems awfully interested in the Hall.”

  Austin shrugged. “What else is he going to look at on this stretch of road?”

  They resumed their walk to the house, but she’d lost her chance to heat things up again. In the end, Ella left her filthy shoes outside and the remainder of her clothes in the laundry room. Austin brought her a towel to wrap up in and by the time she was showered and changed, he’d made lunch—cheese quesadillas—and brought it out to the back porch. Ella privately thought that a hot cowboy who could cook was a beautiful thing, but she didn’t say so out loud.

  They worked together for the remainder of the day on the bunkhouse. First they had to drag the heavy, cast-iron bunk beds out into a nearby shed, a task which nearly did Ella in. Then they began the process of framing up the new walls for the his-and-hers offices. She was surprised to see that in addition to two modest-sized windows—one for the side wall of each office—he’d also bought two larger windows—one apiece for the back walls. They would transform what would otherwise be small, dark rooms into spaces full of light.

  “That will be gorgeous,” Ella said when she saw them. “We’ll be able to see the mountains.”

  “I figured that haven you wanted shouldn’t feel like a closet.”

  “Mission accomplished.” She could picture herself sitting in a comfortable armchair placed near the back window of her office, the natural light illuminating the book she was reading or the project she was working on. Austin was right; it would be a haven. “Thank you,” she said simply. On impulse, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. It meant so much to her that he would take the time to consider her needs.

  Austin eyed her quizzically. “What was that for?”

  “For being wonderful.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up for a second before his expression dimmed again. Why did he do that, she wondered. Why did he clamp down on any happiness he felt and shut it off like water at a tap? She knew better than to ask.

  Ella soon learned there was more to framing up walls than she might have thought. Mostly her job was to be a pair of extra hands while Austin did all the sawing and hammering and drilling. Still, by the end of the afternoon they’d made a lot of progress. All the two-by-fours were in place, the doors and windows were framed up and they’d fitted the two smaller windows into the side walls. A handyman would come the following day to help Austin with the bigger ones and then they’d tackle hanging the sheetrock.

  Ella was sweeping the floor in preparation for being done for the day when Austin called her over. He’d gotten quiet during the last half-hour and she’d begun to wonder if he thought renovating the bunkhouse like this was a mistake.

  “Would you check this measurement for me?” He waved a tape measure at her. Ella leaned the broom against a wall and joined him in one of the new office spaces. He pointed to a set of two-by-fours framing in the wall.

  “Make sure they’re sixteen inches apart, would you?”

  She took the tape measure with a frown. They’d already measured the spacing twice over when they put them up, but she strung the tape from one to the next. When she turned to give him an answer, she found his face inches from hers. He moved in slowly, giving her all the time she needed to pull away.

  She didn’t pull away. She accepted his kiss gratefully. Accepted his arms wrapping around her. Accepted his hands skimming over her curves. Something about Austin made her want to lean in and soak up as much of him as he was willing to give. She instinctively knew that his giving her anything was a miracle. Austin was a man who held himself aloof from intimacy. Somehow she’d broken through his reticence and she’d be damned if she missed out on any part of the experience.

  When he fumbled with her shirt she was right there with him, anticipating his needs. Soon she had it off. Her bra, too. She helped him shed his cotton shirt and smoothed her hands over his chest.

  “I don’t know what it is about you that makes me like this,” he rumbled against her throat as he peppered it with kisses.

  She worked at the button of his jeans. “Like what?”

  He shucked them off and pulled her hand to encircle his hardness. “Like this.”

  “I’m glad you’re like that.”

  Austin growled and it wasn’t long before they were naked. He lifted her in his arms, braced her against one of the finished walls and she wrapped her legs around his waist. As he sheathed himself with a condom and eased inside her, she gasped out her delight, wondering once again how they could fit together so well—give each other such pleasure—when they hardly knew each other.

  This time he watched her as he moved within her, never taking his gaze from her face. As he thrust in and out, building his tempo until she moaned with delight, she trembled with the knowledge that he was going to watch her come. She didn’t know why that made her feel more vulnerable than being naked and allowing him inside her did. He thrust inside her, pulled out and thrust again and Ella drew in a shuddering breath. She was so close—so close—but the intensity of his scrutiny held her back.

  A knowing smile curved his mouth, but he didn’t look away.

  “Come on, sweetheart.” His voice was husky. “Let go. You’re safe with me.”

  Ella came with an intensity that shocked her, wave after wave of sensation pulsing through her until she thought it would never end. After a moment, Austin joined her, his masculine grunts nearly pushing her right up over the top again. When it was over, she found herself close to tears. She forced herself to laugh, instead.

  “What?” Austin said, easing out of her and setting her down gently.

  “So much for not having sex again. It doesn’t matter where we are, or how we do it. It just works,” she explained. “We could probably do it on one of those obstacles of yours and still manage.”

  His quick grin warmed her. “Probably. I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe we should try.”

  “You’ve never tried before?” She hadn’t meant to fish for clues to his past, but she couldn’t take the question back now.

  “Nope.” He led the way to the bathroom.

  “Have you had many opportunities?”

  “Are you asking if I’ve had a lot of women?” He shrugged. “A few. Not that many.”

  “No one serious?”

  “Not really. I’ve been too busy. Moved around too much.”

  She got the feeling he didn’t want to delve into the topic further. Knew, too, that she was babbling to keep from thinking about what had just happened. Something had changed in the past twenty-four hours. Safe was the word that had driven him away yesterday. Safe was the word he’d used to bring her to completion just now. Was she safe with Austin? Or was she in danger of losing her heart all over again?

  She kept quiet as they put themselves back to rights, and when they left the bunkhouse, Austin took her hand. She didn’t think the gesture was planned. In fact, he was distant as they walked, preoccupied, even. Still, his large strong fingers enclosing hers touched her deeply.

  What was he thinking about when that far-off expression came into his eyes? Something haunted him. Something that had happened during his service. “What is it?” she said softly, almost afraid to break his reverie.

  He came to with a start and pulled his hand away.

  “Nothing.” He sighed. “And that absolutely, positively has to be the last time.”

  Ella’s heart plummeted. If he was going to keep stonewalling her afterward, she had to agree. “Never again.” She trailed after him acr
oss the grass.

  Before either of them could speak again, two pickup trucks drove into the lane and pulled up in front of the Hall. Ella stopped in her tracks. Austin shaded his eyes. “It’s the Turners.”

  “Who are the Turners? Do you think I can get inside before they see me?”

  Austin laid a hand on her arm to detain her. “Old acquaintances. I met them again at Mason and Regan’s wedding. Before that, they helped Mason fix all the fences on the ranch. They’re good people. They’re trustworthy.”

  No one is trustworthy, she wanted to say, but it was too late. The trucks’ doors had opened and a whole troop of people spilled out. Ella’s heart sank as she counted them. Five men and three women. After today her secret haven wouldn’t be a secret any more.

  “Hi Noah, Liam,” Austin called out, striding forward to shake their hands. Ella trailed him reluctantly. The only thing in her favor was that she was dressed so casually, and was so mussed by the afternoon’s work that maybe no one would notice her.

  “Hi, Ella!”

  Her hopes were dashed in an instant when she realized Camila from Fila’s restaurant had come with the Turners.

  “Hi,” Ella said reluctantly. She moved forward, too.

  “Ella, these are the Turners,” Austin said. “They live on the Flying W ranch out to the west of town. Noah and Liam were born here in Chance Creek.” He nodded to two tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed men in jeans, boots and T-shirts. “Eli, Brody and Alex Turner are their cousins. They moved here from Colorado a year or so ago after Noah and Liam’s father took ill. Now they all work the Flying W together.”

  “And we help out from time to time,” one of the women Ella hadn’t been introduced to said wryly. “Hi, I’m Stella Turner, and this is my sister Maya. Noah and Liam are our brothers.”

  “It’s nice to meet everyone,” Ella said automatically, employing every trick she’d learned in Hollywood to remember the sudden influx of names. Noah and Liam, Stella and Maya, Eli, Brody and Alex. Information overload.

  “And you already met me,” Camila said with a smile. “I brought you dinner.” She handed Ella a white paper bag with several take-out containers in it that smelled wonderful.