by Gayle Eden
By the door, Ryder drew on the poncho and settled his hat. His gaze rested on her for several moments afterwards. Those eyes seemed to go from her feet to her head, over her face again, before he offered, “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She thrilled at that, seeing that he thought so from his expression.
He seemed to debate, even kissed her soft and tender, before he straightened and finally offered, “You know what you’re getting with me?”
“I do.”
Ryder blew out a breath. “I knew you’d be trouble.”
She laughed softly and went to her tiptoes, kissing him. “You said that before.” She stepped back. “I’m here, Ryder. I’m here, for as long as you want me.”
He nodded and turned, grasping the doorknob. “That could be a long time.” Bracing as if expecting some words pre formed in his mind.
She grinned and closed her eyes since he couldn’t see her. “I hope so. I do—hope so.”
The door opened. He stepped out into the night. Turning suddenly, Ryder regarded her as she stood in the dark parlor. “Don’t let me hurt you, Jordan.”
She felt her heart trip. “You won’t. In spite of that tough exterior and lack of conversation, your body speaks eloquently. You were a perfect lover to me tonight. Trust me, Ryder. Just trust me.”
He held her gaze a moment more before closing the door.
Jordan stared at it, her arms around herself, before she sighed and went upstairs. She changed her sheets and let the robe drop as she climbed into bed. Hugging a pillow, she replayed every second in her mind. She believed now, as she couldn’t before, that Ryder needed her. He needed touch and loving. He needed to give it. He was a deeply passionate man. In some ways, they were well matched. Everything would be all right.
Chapter Thirteen
Seventy fruit trees. Corey rubbed the small of her back and peered at the newly planted orchard. Beyond her, against the hills, Alex’s new home was being built and the echo of saws and hammers sounded. It was going to be a quaint and beautiful house, perfect for the valley.
Pulling off her dirt packed gloves, she hit them against the knee of her denim trousers. It looked like rain today. Perfect for the new orchard—not so perfect for those workmen hurrying to get the roof on.
Corey turned and walked back to the large oak where they had left lemonade, cider and food. Sitting down against the trunk she poured a drink and smiled, spying Alex, barefoot, his trouser legs rolled up and shirt off, right in the middle of the orchard. Although he could afford and did hire crews, one building the barns, another the bee hives, more on the house, he was right there every moment, getting his hands dirty, learning and loving every moment of it.
Resting her head against the trunk, she thought about the days since he had begun to research and really start on his dreams. His enthusiasm spurred her own. She enjoyed helping, watching him dive in and roll up his sleeves, talk to planters and carpenters. When he wasn’t working, he was reading something.
Somewhere in the midst of everything, she realized that romantically, they were not meant to be. Alex needed a wife and children here. He needed a certain kind of someone. And they were friends, close friends. She was becoming more and more objective as his new venture took shape. Filled with joy for him, watching him, Corey figured his attraction to her was as much because she believed in him—she represented that same fearless, at least try it once, idea, to him.
Thunder rumbled. Her eyes turned to the house, seeing the last bit of roof go on. Alex was heading toward her, making her smile again as the rain began, watching him glory in it, stopping and spreading his arms, looking up, because it nurtured his newly planted trees.
By the time he reached her, he was dripping wet, though she wasn’t dry despite the thick leaves and branches overhead. But, Corey was snug enough.
Out of breath, he plopped down beside her, and took her glass with a wet hand.
The crew came down off the roof.
“It’s all most done,” she observed, grinning.
“Almost.” He drained the glass and refilled it. Drinking half before leaning his head back too, rolling it to look at her with a smile. “I can hardly wait to ride out here and see the blossoms. The house painted—with flowers in boxes along the verandas—”
“I can’t either, my friend.”
He stared at her, searching her face and then leaning up. “Have I—”
“No.” She took his free hand in her own. Her gaze outward at the curtain of rain. The crews were loading up the covered wagons since the day was gone anyway. “We’re friends. I hope forever. You need a wife— a special kind of woman. And I think you’ll find her soon, Alex.”
She flexed her fingers. “You’re embarking on a whole new life. You’re going to love doing this. Whatever else you take on. I can already see you standing there in the mornings with coffee, itching to go out and check the trees, the hives, maybe that special someone will call you to breakfast, greet you with a kiss…”
“I wouldn’t be this far without you, Corey.”
She glanced at him. “I realized at some moment, how happy I am to see you happy. How wonderful it has been watching you. I want to always be your friend, Alex. But there’s someone just waiting for you, and I think you’ll know it when you see her.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’ll make some lucky bastard a perfect wife, too.”
“Oh. I’ll likely make him daft.” She laughed and loosed his hand.
“Happy, but daft. Probably.” He teased.
She elbowed him and then stood. “I’ve got to head out when the rain slacks. Rose ordered my gown for the wedding, and is fretting I have missed all the fittings. Mamma and Finn will be here this weekend.”
He stood too and handed her the waterproof duster. “I should have picked you up in the buggy.”
“Ha. I’ve ridden in snowstorms. Rain doesn’t bother me a bit.” She drew the duster on and headed for her horse, under the lean-to. Saddling up and then riding past him with a wave.
Arriving at the ranch, Corey bathed and went to her rooms. The gown was on a dress dummy in the corner. A bronze silk with cream stripe, simple lines, square bodice and mock bustle. She had already seen the patent leather white boots and striped silk stockings. She was not so sure that Rose wasn’t more anxious about the wedding than Falon. But then, every time she saw Falon the woman was still floating on a cloud of bliss. Apparently, she and Lucas loved, laughed, and enjoyed each other more every day.
“There you are.” Rose opened the door and stepped in, her hair in a braid, wearing a light summer gown and slippers, she told Corey, “I’m almost done. I just need to adjust that neckline.”
Corey submitted to putting the gown on. Standing in front of a long mirror while Rose, her mouth full of pins, tucked and marked, the gown flattered her lithe shape, her coloring. She liked it enough—for a dress.
“All done.” Rose helped her out of it.
Afterwards sitting on the bed in her petticoats, bare feet on the cover, she watched Rose deftly ply her needle.
“Is Morgan still calling on you?”
“Um.”
“So—all is well, now?”
Rose shrugged. “I love him. I always have. But I want him to be sure.”
“I understand that.”
Working a bit, Rose finished and then smoothed the neckline, stepping back to view the garment. Eventually, she turned and said on her way out, “I’m just waiting for him to say he loves me—and mean it.”
Brow arched, Corey watched the door close, having observed the parlor full of flowers, candy, and books, and she didn’t think that would be long in coming.
Corey slept through supper, getting up sometime after dark and grabbing a cotton robe. She padded down to the kitchens. Rose had left her a plate. She sat down and ate, then walked out onto the back porch, enjoying the hush and lowering of nightfall. Sipping from tepid coffee that tasted good after an early day of planting tree
s and hasty sips from a canteen.
A large shadow detached from the barn as she was staring that way. She recognized Noah’s Lam’s walk and build while he sauntered toward her, likely spotting her white garments because of the light shining out from the kitchen window.
He appeared to have bathed because his curly black hair was wet and his denim shirt and Levi’s were too neat to have been worn on the range. As long as she’d known him, Corey was never not taken with how tall and strong he was. Like an oak.
Sleeves rolled up his browned forearms, his aqua eyes regarded her between thick black lashes. He stepped up and leaned against a brace, slightly to her right. Rolling a cigarette from his makings, he lit it and snuffed the match. Resting a boot sole back, he drew and exhaled. “Haven’t seen you on the range much lately,” his deeper than deep voice sounded.
“I’ve been helping Alex Croft.”
Eyes narrowed against the smoke he murmured, “So we heard.”
“Why—Did you miss me?” She grinned.
He grunted. “Like a burr in my ass.”
Laughing, Corey offered him a sip of coffee. He had a rock hard ass, and long thick muscled legs.
He took it and drank, handed it back. “How’s the place coming?”
“Fine. Great. Alex is throwing himself right in there. It’s going to be beautiful and I think, satisfying for him.”
Noah drew and blew out a stream of smoke. “He taught you to dance, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“What else is he teaching you all those hours you spend with him.”
She sat up and gave him the rest of the coffee. “Wouldn’t you love to know?” Corey padded to the edge of the porch. “I love the spring nights when everything smells earthy and sharp.”
He had crushed the cigarette and finished the coffee. “Save me one.”
“What?” She looked at him, blinking.
He grinned slightly showing a deep dimple. “A dance. At the wedding.”
“Oh. Sure.” She nodded, watching him place the cup down and saunter off. A slight frown between her brows because Noah seemed—less than his usual self.
Leaning against the brace, Corey put it out of her mind, thinking instead of seeing her mother, looking forward to seeing her family all together again.
* * * *
The weekend—one before the wedding—arrived; Corey was serving up breakfast when Sara and Finn arrived. She ran to the front door seeing Rose already on the porch. Grinning at the sight of her mother, who looked pretty, young—and who waited for Finn to take her hand, Corey felt a tinge of envy and lot of joy at the changes in them both. Hands were unloading the wagon when they stepped up on the porch, breaking their handhold long enough for Sara to hug Rose and Corey.
“I missed you both, so much.”
“I doubt that.” Corey snorted and hugged Finn who looked different with a close-cropped beard, but it fit him. “You arrived in time for breakfast.”
“I’ve your old room ready,” Rose supplied taking Finns hug too.
“Food and then rest.” Sara smiled and took their hands. “We’ve had little of either since the trip started.”
They all set at the table, Corey listening mostly as the two talked of their new home, their new life, and the both of them sounding like young excited newlyweds. Finn teased Sara and her mother teased him back. Corey observed from the way he filled her coffee cup and how she reached to wipe jam from his mouth, just how intimate and close they were.
Since she and Rose could likely keep them up all day with questions, she excused herself to do the feeding; pulling on her boots while Rose took the hint too, and began cleaning up the table. The couple was snug in bed by the time Corey was finished and saddled up to ride out on the range.
The wedding would be Sunday. Her mother and Finn would likely stay at the McCabe house tonight, since Sara would want to help Falon. Corey was aware that the decorations were stunning, having heard Rose and Jordan both discuss the flowers and all the white and green ribbon, blooms and swags. There would be an orchestra, champagne, and plenty of food. Still, Corey smiled imagining what Rose’s wedding would be like someday. Probably a fairytale with perfectly romantic trappings.
Speaking to hands as she passed them, Corey spent most of the day there. She saw Noah back at the barn. He had been working the southern pasture today and she’d ridden westward, enjoying watching the new calves romp.
Stalling and seeing to her horse, she noticed he was getting Finn’s team hitched up.
“Did you see Mamma?”
He finished and glanced at her. “Yes. I spent an hour with them.” He led the team out. “She’s talking to your uncle right now.”
Corey nodded and pat the neck of the lead mount. “Mamma looks good, young. Finn too, don’t you think?”
“Yes. In love.”
She glanced at him to find his aqua eyes regarding her rather too blandly.
Corey arched her brow but he merely smiled and pat the horse saying, “The other hands will see to the feeding the rest of the week.”
“All right.” She walked around the horse, thus around him, still watching him a moment before she headed to the house.
She found Finn in the kitchen, talking to Rose, and her Mamma on the front porch, deep in a private conversation with Ryder.
Merely kissing her mother’s brow, she afterwards took herself upstairs to bathe.
* * * *
The wedding day dawned quite beautifully. Corey did breakfast so that Rose could see to all she needed to, which had something to do with curling her hair, paring her nails, and all sorts of things Corey wasn’t interested in.
Rose and Jordan were bridesmaids, each supposed to wear their hair long and flowing with crowns of baby’s breath. She vaguely recalled they had matching green gowns that were wide V necked and shoulder edging, sheer sleeves. She imagined Rose would wear a shawl over hers.
She did the dishes too and got her bath before dressing—once Rose finally left the bathing room—having been in and out of it most of the day.
Spring smelling and clean, Corey slid on the stockings and shoes and then the dress. She looked up as Rose came in. Striding to the mirror, Rose began fixing Corey’s hair. Drawing it up and leaving curls to spring around her face. Corey said, “I’ll do the rest. You look stunning.”
Rose grinned. “The gown is beautiful. Isn’t it?”
Her sister’s figure was stunning, and with her hair curled and flowing loose down her back, she looked like a princess. Corey darkened her lashes and applied lip salve. Rose having left her, soon knocked again, and informed her the buggy was ready.
Ryder had left earlier, so Corey walked behind Rose down the stairs, out the door, spying a formally dressed Noah on the buggy seat. He complimented Rose and stepped down to help her in, then looked over Corey—who looked him over slowly too, he said, “Don’t forget about that dance.”
“I won’t.” She eyed his gloss black hair, the white shirt and string tie, a long thigh length jacket, and straight trousers. A new pair of black boots. “I didn’t know you’d clean up so well.”
Laughing, he closed the carriage door, and climbed back in the seat, clicking to the horses then retorting, “You don’t notice a lot of things, Miss Corey.”
Her brow arched but they were soon on their way, and it didn’t take long to run into buggies, horses, dozens of town folks. Sometime after passing through the McCabe gates, they were let out while Noah took the buggy on.
Four sets of French doors were thrown wide and Corey heard the music outside where white covered tables were dressed out with plates, bottles of champagne and vases of flowers. In the main parlor were swags and glittering candles. An aisle formed from one of the back halls where Falon would emerge. Lucas certainly looked handsome in his suit, Asher standing with him, wearing a matching one—and beaming.
Her Uncle Ryder’s Spanish style outfit had her mouth nearly hanging open. It suited him, coloring, and flair, and bef
ore he went back down the hall with Rose, she whispered a compliment to him.
“I might keep it.” He winked.
“Wear it to your own wedding,” she teased.
He snorted but looked around and Corey noticed interestingly that his stride faltered as Jordan came through one of the French doors.
Her uncle handed Rose over, but leaned down for Jordan to whisper something in his ear. He murmured something back. When he rejoined Lucas at the makeshift altar, a tale tale pat of his handkerchief on his nape likely had nothing to do with the crowd and heat.
Corey had time to hurry back and peek at Falon. Lovely in white lace, looking long and lithe, and flushed with happiness. Falon wore her hair drawn back at the sides, and a pearl band with a veil trailing to meet the train of the gown.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She hugged Corey, whispering, “Thanks for wearing a dress.”
Chuckling, Corey hugged her mother, who wore a beautiful yellow silk gown with bustle. Sara was already teary eyed. After speaking to Jordan, she left the group to prepare for the wedding march, and found herself a seat, nodding to Alex in formal white and black, and smiling secretly at Finn—who looked more nervous than laid back Lucas. Finn in black tails and bow tie, formal clothing, was sipping a brandy and pacing, every now and then checking his pocket watch.
Morgan wore black and white also. Corey saw him greeting and seating guests, talking to servants, and generally keeping order.
When the room was crowded with seated guests, the orchestra played a romantic tune Corey had not heard before. There were sounds and murmurs when Jordan and Rose entered, holding small bouquets. She grinned, noting Rose didn’t leave the shawl on. Her beautiful skin glowed and that proud bosom wasn’t hid either. Sneaking a look at Morgan, who stood to her right, Corey put a gloved hand to her mouth, noticing he looked like he wanted to run over, snatch Rose up, and ravish her right there.
Applause sounded. Falon appeared a few steps behind. Chin high and smile intact, Falon had eyes only for Lucas while she took those graceful steps. Lucas, Corey noticed, reached for Asher’s hand although his eyes watched his bride. When they at last stood side by side, Asher stepped back beside Ryder and awaited the vows.
