Wolf Creek Wife

by Penny Richards

  “What?” Blythe cast a surprised glance at her mother, unable to believe what she was hearing.

  “The night the posse brought in Meg Allen’s first husband, Elton Thomerson, and his cohort, Joseph Jones, for breaking out of jail, I was taking care of Cilla and Brady. We were all sleeping when Colt came by very late to check on them. He didn’t wake us, but he was so tired that he sat down on the sofa and fell asleep. When he woke up around daylight the next morning, a couple of people saw him leaving the house, started talking, and here I am. Happily married to the man.”

  “But you loved each other and you’d have married him anyway,” Blythe pointed out.

  “Well, yes, but it might have been a while down the road, and I’d have missed all this extra time with him. After my first love treated me so shabbily, I was so fed up with men, I was afraid to take a chance. That sort of forced our hand.”

  “Are you trying to draw some comparison between your situation and mine?” Blythe asked.

  “I don’t know,” Allison said, shrugging. “Maybe.”

  “Let me assure you that William Slade is not Colt Garrett.”

  “Oh, I know that!” Allison said with a wink and a cheeky smile. “Colt is much handsomer.”

  Though they were both good-looking men, Blythe felt Allison’s statement was debatable.

  “I guess I’m just saying you should be open to whatever God has in store for you. Who knows? Maybe the situation with Devon brought you here for some wonderful plan you don’t know about.”

  “I can’t imagine what it might be,” Blythe said, “but the sentiment is nice.”

  Allison laughed. “I would never have imagined that plain little me would be married to the handsome sheriff and mother to his two rotten kids.”

  Before Blythe could reply to that, Ellie came to the table with a blue-and-white-speckled coffeepot and two mugs. She poured coffee for the two newcomers and kissed her sister’s cheek.

  “It’s good to see you out and about,” she said to Blythe.

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled at the Granvilles. “What will you ladies have this fine spring day?” Blythe and Libby placed their orders. “Will Win be joining you?” Ellie asked oh-so-casually.

  “We didn’t ask him,” Libby told her with a laugh. “He’ll probably be in later.”

  Blythe didn’t imagine the soft color that stole into Ellie’s cheeks. When she left to put the order in, Allison shook her head and looked from one of her table companions to the other. “My sister is absolutely crazy about Win.”

  “Well, from what I’ve observed, the feeling is mutual,” Libby said drily. “The question is, what happens now?”

  “I have no idea. We’ve all been telling her that she needs to hire a lawyer and do something about Jake so she can move on with her life. It’s been more than twelve years since he skipped out on her and Bethany.”

  Blythe knew enough of Ellie’s past to know that her husband had taken one look at their newborn daughter, seen that she was mentally disabled, and taken off. According to everyone who knew her, Ellie had never shown any interest beyond friendship toward any man until Win came to town.

  “It’s been almost that long since Win’s fiancée was killed,” Libby told Allison.

  “Isn’t it amazing how mixed up things can get?” she asked.

  “It certainly is.”

  “Hello, ladies,” Colt said, approaching the table.

  “Hello, Sheriff.”

  Allison turned to smile up at him. He stopped behind her and placed his big hands on her shoulders, almost, Blythe thought, as if he couldn’t bear to be near her without touching her. Colt had never cared much for society’s conventions, either. If he wanted to touch his wife in public, he would.

  Blythe couldn’t help noticing that Allison tilted her head for just a second so that her cheek could brush his hand. A little pain of longing pierced her heart.

  “I hate to disturb you, sweet thing, but the kids are getting a little restless.”

  “Oh, of course!” Allison said, standing as he pulled out her chair and then draped her cloak over her shoulders. She rounded the table and kissed both Libby and Blythe on the cheek. “Stop by and see me someday. I hardly know what to do with myself now that I’m not teaching.”

  “You’re certainly not idle, sister dear,” Ellie said as she approached the table carrying Blythe’s and Libby’s breakfasts. “She helps here almost every day in some capacity or another.”

  “I’m glad to do it.”

  When all the goodbyes were said, Blythe and her mother settled down with their meals. Gradually the conversation around them returned to normal. Somewhat surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected it to be.

  After breakfast, she and Libby walked home, where she donned an everyday skirt and shirtwaist.

  “I’m going to take Banjo to see Will,” she told her mother. “Rachel gave me permission to take him Wednesday afternoon, but since I was sick, it didn’t happen.”

  “Are you sure he’s still there? He might be back home by now.”

  Blythe smiled. “If he’d gone home, do you think he’d have left the mutt behind?”

  “Good point.”

  Ten minutes later she was knocking on the Gentry house’s front door. She was nervous about facing Will again, even though they had settled things the last time she’d seen him. Though she’d been shaking inside, she’d felt very adult telling him that she’d considered the repercussions of her actions before deciding to stay with him overnight, but deep inside, she’d feared her reputation would not recover anytime soon.

  Anyway, it was settled. He’d declined to marry her; and since she had no desire to marry him, she’d told him not to worry about it. As anxious as she was about seeing him again, it felt good to know they had not let Win coerce them into doing something neither wanted. More important, she had handled the situation on her own.

  It wasn’t long before Rachel answered the summons and gave her sister-in-law a hug. “Come on in,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

  “I still have a cough, but I’m much better.”

  “Good. Will was disappointed that you couldn’t come on Wednesday, and then he felt guilty for passing on his sickness.”

  “At least I didn’t have it as bad as he did,” Blythe said.

  “That is a blessing,” Rachel agreed. “If you’ll go on around back, I’ll make sure he’s dressed and send him out. He’s really had cabin fever the past couple of days.”

  Blythe hardly heard. She was still trying to grasp the fact that Will had been concerned about her health.

  “I knew if I let him go home, he’d go right back to work, and he doesn’t need to do anything strenuous for at least another week.”

  Blythe couldn’t imagine trying to keep the big, outdoors-loving man entertained. “I can only imagine.”

  Rachel looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Can you?”

  Blythe laughed. “Okay, then,” she said. “Let’s get him outside. Banjo and I are headed to the back porch.”

  She stood on the edge of the porch, her arms wrapped around one of the square posts, looking out over the houses down the way, and Banjo was dozing in a patch of sunlight when Will stepped out, clad in his usual Levi’s and plaid shirt.

  When the dog heard him, he jumped up and fairly leaped through the air to get to his master. The dog’s tail wagged so fast and furiously that his whole body shook. Will squatted down next to the big canine and began to shower him with hugs and rough petting.

  The happiness Blythe saw in both Will’s and the dog’s demeanors made her heart glad.

  Will looked up at her, the first genuine smile on his face she’d ever seen. The difference it made to his stern features was breathtaking.

  “He
looks great. Thank you for taking such good care of him.”

  “It was no trouble. I just wasn’t sure you’d be happy about him following me home.”

  “There isn’t much you could have done about it. He minds me really well, but you were just a stranger. A stranger who’d fed him.” He grinned again.

  Blythe felt her heart skip a little beat and gave herself a mental set-down. “He’s really smart.”

  “He is,” Will agreed.

  “If he hadn’t kept after me to come follow him, I probably wouldn’t have found you that day in the woods.”

  “Then it seems I owe you both a debt of gratitude,” Will said, getting to his feet. As soon as he did, Banjo trotted over to Blythe, gave her hand a lick and sat down beside her.

  “It looks like I’ll have to fight you for his affection.”

  With a grimace, Blythe wiped her hand down the side of her skirt. “I doubt that. Once the two of you are back home, everything will be just like it was before you took sick.”

  “Maybe. Look, Miss Granville,” he said, his scowl now full-blown. “Will you take a seat, please? I’m feeling much better, but I’m still as weak as a kitten, and it would be ungentlemanly of me to sit before you do, and if that doesn’t happen soon, I’m liable to fall down.”

  Blythe felt hot color rush to her hairline. “Oh! I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She dropped down into one of the rocking chairs with a decided lack of grace.

  Will followed suit and heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you again for everything you’ve done.”

  Before Blythe could think of a suitable reply, a lilting feminine voice said, “Will Slade! Just look at you!”

  Both Will and Blythe looked toward the woman rounding the corner of the house. Blythe’s heart sank. She knew without a doubt that the gorgeous stranger could be none other than Will’s former wife.

  Blythe’s panicked gaze found Will’s. He looked as shocked as she felt, which told her that her guess about the identity of the newcomer was right.

  Martha was turned out as if she’d just stepped from a bandbox, perfection from her leather shoes to the feather concoction atop her stylishly coiffed head. She was a slender brunette clad in a fashionable blue walking dress that had not been purchased from Gentry Mercantile. Blythe watched as Martha sauntered toward the porch, an enticing smile on her shapely lips. Martha Slade, or whatever her name was now, was, in a word, stunning.

  Considering that she considered style her bailiwick, Blythe was beyond mortified. She had no interest in competing with the older woman, and she certainly wasn’t trying to impress anyone, but no female liked to be one-upped by another, especially when it came to fashion.

  Blythe wished she’d worn something besides her simple white shirtwaist and slightly faded skirt that was also now adorned with a smear of dog slobber.

  Her brown hair, which she’d twisted into a loose knot at the nape of her neck, was windblown, and she tucked a straggling strand behind her ear. She felt like bursting into tears. Again. Next to her, Banjo fixed his gaze on the newcomer and growled low in his throat. The hair down his back bristled.

  Martha shot the dog a hate-filled look.

  “What are you doing here?” Will asked, not bothering to hide his irritation. “I thought we’d finally settled everything yesterday.”

  “Now, is that any way to speak to someone who has your best interests at heart?” Martha chided, coming around the porch and spying Blythe for the first time. Martha’s all-encompassing, condescending glance raked Blythe from head to toe and immediately dismissed her as no one of consequence. “And this is...?”

  Blythe was about to say that she was just leaving when Will spoke up.

  “This is Blythe Granville, Martha, the woman who pretty much saved my life. Miss Granville, this is my former wife, Martha Rafferty.”

  Blythe nodded but didn’t speak.

  Hearing the name Granville took the edge from Martha’s overly confident smile. For once, Blythe was tickled pink to bear her family name.

  “Miss Granville.”

  “Blythe came to let me visit with Banjo.” He pinned the other woman with a challenging look. “Since you’re here, you can be the first to congratulate us. Blythe and I are getting married as soon as possible.”

  Chapter Seven

  Blythe’s shocked gaze darted to Will’s. Were her ears deceiving her, or had he just announced that he was marrying the woman he’d just days ago said he wasn’t? She felt as if she should say something, but nothing came to mind except the thought that she wished a hole would open up and swallow her.

  “We did just agree that it would be the best thing to do, didn’t we, Blythe?”

  The expression on his face was neutral, but his eyes seemed to plead with her to agree. Why? What was behind this sudden change of mind and heart? Understanding dawned in a flash. Will felt it was worth marrying a stranger to be free of Martha’s clutches!

  Blythe thought she’d convinced herself that she didn’t want to marry him, that one more scandal didn’t matter, so why did meeting his former wife—his arrogant and condescending former wife—tempt her to say otherwise? Nothing had really changed except that now she’d seen firsthand just how determined and manipulative Martha Rafferty was.

  The pseudo marriage proposal had come out of the blue, prompted, Blythe was certain, by Will looking for an easy way out. She wasn’t sure how she felt about being used as a means to an end, but she admitted to feeling a rush of relief. It had taken every ounce of calmness and control in her being to remain steadfast in her earlier pronouncements of being fine with his refusal to marry her. A woman had her pride, after all, and she would die before resorting to begging a man to marry her. Yet now that he had made the offer, she was sorely tempted to take him up on it and solve her problems once and for all.

  The thought of getting out from under Win’s control held a certain appeal as well, but even though marriage would put her in good standing with the community, did she really want to marry the dour Will Slade? Would she be exchanging one bossy male for another? Was marrying a stranger to “fix” her problems—and his—worth sacrificing possible future happiness, or was there a possibility that they could grow to care for each other the way Caleb and Abby Gentry had done? Was she crazy for even considering his ridiculous proposal, if that’s what it was?

  What about love? What about children?

  Children. She drew a shallow, shuddering breath. She might be inexperienced, but she was not so innocent that she believed a man and woman could live together for the rest of their lives without intimacy at some point. Imagining that was both frightening and a little heady. She glanced at Will and saw him regarding her with a disturbing intensity.

  Then, without meaning to, she heard herself saying, “Yes, we did.”

  * * *

  The three words were spoken so softly Will wasn’t sure he’d heard it. The expression of bewilderment on her face was both comical and somehow heartbreaking.

  “You can’t be serious about marrying her, Will.”

  Martha’s scathing comment forced Will’s attention back to her. The look on her face wasn’t pretty.

  “Why not?”

  “I would think that would be obvious. She’s already been involved in one scandal. How can you be certain she didn’t plan this...this incident with you just to snag a husband?”

  Will heard Blythe suck in a sharp breath. It wasn’t the first time Martha had said something inappropriate or just downright mean about someone. He’d have thought he’d have stopped being surprised long ago. He shot Blythe a quick glance and saw her lower lip tremble. Blythe Granville might be a rich, maybe even spoiled, debutante, but everything in him told him that she was not a schemer. He clenched his hands into fists.

  “That’s enough, Martha. I’d appreciate it i
f you didn’t speak of my future wife in such a derogatory way, especially when you’re hardly in a position to point fingers at anyone.”

  The sound that escaped Martha was very close to a hiss. The look in her eyes told him that if she had something she could use to inflict pain, she’d use it on him. She turned and glared at Blythe.

  “Forgive me, Miss Granville,” she said, though they all three knew she was nowhere near sorry. “Congratulations.”

  With a final furious look at Will, she pivoted on the toe of her fancy boot and flounced back the way she’d come.

  For long seconds the only sounds Will heard were those of singing birds and Banjo’s soft breathing. At last he dared to glance at Blythe, who looked as dazed as if she’d awakened to a new world.

  “Don’t pay any attention to her.” The gruffness of his tone came from concern, not irritation.

  Blythe turned toward him and blinked but never spoke a word. Will began to grow a bit uneasy.

  “Blythe.”

  “Yes?” she asked, her gaze meeting his.

  “You don’t have to stick by it.”

  “What?”

  “Agreeing to marry me.”

  She nodded and drew in a breath that seemed to bring her back to near normalcy. At least her color was better and the dazed expression in her eyes wasn’t nearly so pronounced.

  “Oh, that,” she said as if it were of no consequence.

  “Yes. That. Why did you say yes?”

  Her narrow shoulders lifted in a shrug and she gave a shake of her head. “I’m not really sure. Probably the same reason you asked. Why did you change your mind? I thought we agreed to let things play out.”

  “I thought so, too,” he said. “And then, when she showed up so sure she could sway me, it just came out.”

  “I’d heard she was in town and I...” Her voice faltered. “I supposed she’d come to reconcile with you.”

  He nodded. “She’s a very clever strategist. She plans her attack and pursues her prey relentlessly.”