“Oh—I have it! The old house, the one Papa built when he and Mama first settled here. It’s only used for storage now, and for guest quarters, but it would be perfect for us. It’s only made of logs—not as fancy or as large as the big house—but if you don’t mind, I wouldn’t. It will need a lot of work, I’m afraid—no one’s touched it since the war started, and it’s probably filthy and in need of repairs—but we can fix it up, I’m certain.”
He stared down at her, doubt and shock warring with outraged pride. “I’ll be damned,” he said stiffly, his voice gruff with renewed fury, “if you’re going to sacrifice any more for me.”
She reached up to touch his cheek, so tenderly, he almost winced. “That’s what being a wife means sometimes—sacrificing for your family. You’re my family now, Lance. My husband. You would do the same for me, I know. You have, in fact. Many times. What’s fair for you is certainly fair for me.”
Easing his weight off her, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the loft overhead. Part of him wanted to throw Summer’s magnanimous gesture back in her face. He didn’t want her sacrificing anything for him, goddammit—the mere word speared a raw, festering wound that had tormented him all his life, because his mother had sacrificed so much for him. Summer didn’t want to have him for her husband, he knew. She only felt an obligation to him.
And yet her avowal was balm to his bitter fury. She wasn’t going to try to get out of their marriage. She was going to keep her end of the bargain. She was even going to try and build a home together with him. If he was willing to swallow his hot-tempered pride.
But did he have any choice? Could he bear the cold emptiness of his existence without her?
He laughed harshly to himself, covering his eyes with his arm. The question was downright moronic. He couldn’t live without Summer filling his days and nights. Not now, not after knowing the wonder of possessing her.
Just then she turned toward him and nuzzled her face against his side, as if she wanted the closeness. Hesitantly he lifted his arm and let her snuggle against him, her head resting in the curve of his shoulder. She sighed as if content.
The icy knots of tension inside him slipped a bit, loosening a tiny inch.
They unraveled another degree at her next murmured words. “We’re married now, Lance, for better or worse. All we have now is each other.”
He felt his heart stop beating for breath of time. “Do I have you, princess?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, you have me,” Summer answered sincerely. He didn’t quite believe her, she could tell. Or trust her, either. Lance was a man who had been alone too long to trust easily.
But she would prove to him she meant what she said. She intended to honor their wedding vows, no matter what it cost her. He had earned her loyalty, and he would have it—for as long as he wanted it and her.
Chapter 18
It was a new start for their marriage. They slept in the barn that evening, and in the morning, began to make their new home habitable—Summer cleaning and sweeping while Lance repaired the roof and sagging shutters and hauled their belongings in.
The cabin that John Weston had built for his family twenty-five years before sat facing the creek, the farthest west of all the ranch buildings. The dwelling actually consisted of two log structures joined by a common room, with a breezeway in between and a gallery extending across the front. The half now used for storage was crammed with old furniture and equipment, but the other half had two serviceable rooms that would serve as a bedchamber and a kitchen/parlor/living area.
“It isn’t nearly as nice as the big house,” Summer told Lance apologetically as she stood back to view their efforts on the exterior.
“It’ll have to do till I can build you something better,” he returned gruffly, setting a wicker rocker down on the front porch.
Realizing he had misinterpreted her remark, Summer wiped her sweating brow and sent him an exasperated frown. “That isn’t what I meant at all, Lance Calder. I only meant that I’m sorry you have to live here instead of up at the big house. Heavens, you’re as prickly as a cactus.”
His stiff features seemed to relax, and he gave her a rueful grin. “Okay, so maybe I overreacted.”
“I think perhaps you did.”
“Sorry, princess.”
Lance hitched a hip up on the porch rail as he gazed out over the yard. Joining him on the porch, Summer sank wearily into the rocker, grateful for the chance to rest. She didn’t remember much about living here in this house, since they’d moved when she was eight, but the memories she had were fond ones. And by many settlers’ standards, the cabin was luxurious. Besides spaciousness, it offered privacy and a pretty setting, with redbuds and persimmon bushes dotting the yard, and wild plum trees and mustang grapevines covering the sandy banks of the creek.
“I think we’ll like it here,” she mused aloud.
“It’s a lot nicer than the place I grew up in back in Austin,” Lance agreed.
At his quiet admission, Summer remembered what he had told her about his childhood, about the terrible way his mother had been forced to exist. They had lived in poverty, outcasts from society, enduring hardships she herself had never known. She had been raised in comfort, never experiencing want or need. Even now, when she likely faced social ostracism for marrying a half-breed, she wouldn’t have to whore in order to survive.
No, Summer reminded herself, Lance had good reason to be touchy about his past. She would just have to make allowances for his lingering hostility, while trying to prove to him she was on his side.
“This’ll do fine, princess,” she heard him say absently. “At least till I can build us a real house.”
Summer shook her head. The days when luxury dominated her life, when expense and sacrifice had no meaning to her, were over. “I’m not a princess any longer, Lance. I don’t need a fancy house.”
His jaw hardened before he turned away. “Well, maybe I do.”
She watched him stride toward the barn, hearing the echo of his defiant marriage proposal in her ears. That’s all I want. A wife who can help me become a respected member of the community. He had wanted to marry her because of the advantage her background and family connections might bring him. And after experiencing firsthand the contemptuous treatment Lance had always been accorded, she had no trouble understanding why respectability and acceptance might be so important to him. She only hoped she could help him achieve it. She would try at least.
And Reed would, too, she knew. When she’d spoken to her brother last night, informing him they planned to live in the cabin, Reed had repeated his vow to support whatever decision she made and offered to send some of the hired hands and their wives over to help fix up the place—an offer that Lance stubbornly had refused.
Summer wasn’t nearly as certain of her sister, or that she would ever be able to persuade Amelia to see reason where Lance was concerned. When she’d tried once more, Amelia had again declared hysterically that she wasn’t staying with a “red devil” in the house. It was all Summer could do not to lose her temper.
With a sigh at the unpleasant remembrance, she rose from the rocker and carried her broom inside the cabin to tackle refilling the rope-bed mattress with clean straw. She hoped her sister would relent, but if not, then she would have to live with it. She intended to stand by her husband, no matter what the future held.
The first few days of that future were unexpectedly difficult as she and Lance adjusted to living with each other in close quarters, as man and wife. Accustomed to having the Mexican women as household servants, Summer was unused to keeping house totally by herself, let alone caring for someone else. And Lance wasn’t used to having to consider someone else’s welfare.
He was a loner, by choice as well as by circumstances, and had a hard time shedding his hostile defiance, even when he knew Summer was trying her damnedest to make their marriage work. He saw an ulterior motive in every gesture of tenderness and helpfulness she made, and viewed with suspi
cion any attempts to charm him. And she, weary from the exhausting work, tended to snap at him with alarming frequency, forgetting the old adage about catching more flies with honey and her own cardinal rules about using sweetness and flattery to get her way—not that it would have worked with Lance, in any case.
They often danced around each other, being scrupulously polite, testing one another, frequently misunderstanding, sometimes arguing. It was only in bed that they seemed to be of one mind, sharing a passion that was explosive and abandoned and totally satisfying. In the privacy of their bedchamber, they met as equals, both hungry and possessive as they learned to please and be pleased. In the sensual darkness, Summer lost any pretense of genteel inhibitions, and Lance lowered his own defenses in return.
It was three days after his arrival at the ranch, when their cabin was finally clean and comfortable enough, that Summer turned her attention to more difficult matters. After breakfast that morning, she went up to the big house and spoke to her brother about her husband’s place on the ranch.
It took a little doing, but despite Reed’s reluctance to relinquish the reins of power, she managed to persuade him to give Lance a chance at assuming greater responsibility with the herds. Afterward she talked to Dusty Murdock, the Sky Valley foreman, about the situation as he came in from the range.
“I’ve got no problem taking orders from Lance,” Dusty admitted easily. “And I doubt many of the boys will, either. He’s a regular hero for rescuing Miss Amelia, you know.”
Summer looked at Dusty in surprise. “No, I didn’t know.”
“Sure is. Most of the boys are right proud of him, though they might not let on.”
“And you think they would accept having him as boss if he takes over part of the ranch?”
“The Mexes won’t be a problem, for sure. Lance is the best man with a horse anybody around here’s ever laid eyes on, and the vaqueros respect that. And they know what it’s like, being looked down on ‘cause of their skin color. But the white fellas…There’ll be a few who’ll object to working for a mix-blood Comanche. Some might quit or even try to cause trouble, but Lance can take care of himself. Always has.” The foreman hesitated. “I guess I’m a lot more worried about Miss Amelia.”
Summer frowned; she was worried about her sister as well. In the past few days, some of their neighbors had come to call, but Amelia had refused to see any of them, even the women who had been her closest friends. “What are people saying, Dusty?”
He looked down at his feet, as if reluctant to meet her eyes. “They feel sorry for her, I reckon. But nobody blames her for what happened.”
“They wouldn’t dare say it to her face, at any rate,” Summer said sadly.
Dusty abruptly raised his head, his usually calm blue eyes suddenly blazing. “They do and I’ll beat the livin’ daylights out of ‘em.”
Summer was a bit surprised to hear the easygoing ranch foreman champion her sister so vehemently, and even Dusty seemed embarrassed by his outburst. His ears turned red, and he tugged on his hat, pulling it way down over his eyes as he squinted off in the distance.
“Well, anybody would,” he mumbled, before he excused himself, saying he had work to do.
Summer sighed. She would have to deal with Amelia’s problems eventually, but right now Lance deserved her concern more. She had won Reed’s and Dusty’s support to involve him more in the workings of the ranch. There remained only to convince Lance to agree—which might indeed be the hardest part. She ought to be able to charm any man into doing her bidding, but her husband was not just any man.
A short while later she found Lance out back of their cabin, where he was chopping a load of firewood he’d brought in off the range. He was shirtless, exposing a great deal of bronzed skin glistening with sweat, and the sight brought Summer up short. Lance was hard, uncompromising male, and she was always exquisitely conscious of being female when he was near—and yet just now she was shocked by the sudden surge of desire that streaked through her.
Right then Lance looked up and smiled at her, his teeth flashing white in his harsh face, as if he was glad to see her. Summer felt raw color rush to her cheeks. She had never been overly concerned with propriety, but still, it wasn’t proper to feel such fierce lust for one’s husband.
She had brought him a dipper of water from the spring, which he accepted gratefully. When he’d finished drinking, though, she didn’t leave. Instead she settled herself on a log.
“Something wrong, princess?”
“No, I just wanted to talk to you.”
He turned back to his work. “What about?”
For a moment she didn’t reply. Fascinated, she watched the powerful play of sleek muscles moving in his shoulders and chest as he swung the axe. His rib injury had improved enough so that the bandage covered only the healing flesh, held on by sticking plaster.
“Summer?”
Flushing, she made herself remember what she had come here for. “About your taking over my part of the ranch. I’ve discussed it with Reed, and he’s amenable to you starting right away.”
His harsh features had suddenly gone expressionless. “You can tell your brother I don’t want his charity.”
“It isn’t charity, Lance. When you married me, my interest in the ranch became yours. And besides, Reed needs you.”
A snort of disbelief was Lance’s only answer.
“He does,” Summer insisted. “You know Reed is crippled. He can’t even manage to sit a riding horse, much less break in a wild mustang. Not only are you more mobile, but your skill with horses is unequaled. And there’s more than enough work for both of you to handle. Reed can manage the books like he’s been doing, while you supervise the range work. I expect he’ll be grateful for your help, but even if he’s not, I will. The ranch hasn’t operated at even a quarter of its capacity in years, but with you here, we can build it back up.”
“I think you’re forgetting one thing, princess. Your drovers aren’t gonna take orders from a breed.”
“You’re wrong,” Summer said triumphantly. “I’ve already spoken to Dusty about it, and he’s more than willing—and he thinks the others will be, too. You’ve earned their respect, whether you wanted it or not.”
He turned to eye her with a smoldering gaze, but he didn’t answer.
Rising to her feet, Summer placed her hands on her hips. At the same time her mouth curved in a provocative smile, while her tone turned teasing. “What are you going to do if you don’t take over the ranch? If you think you can just laze around the cabin all day, Lance Calder, you can think again. You may be a hero, but you still have earn your keep.”
His brows drew together. “I may be a what?”
“A hero.” Summer smiled smugly as she sauntered over to him. “Dusty says everyone thinks you’re one for rescuing Amelia. And frankly, so do I.”
A muscle twitched warningly in his jaw as he stared down at her. “Flattery isn’t going to work on me, Summer.”
“No? Then will you tell me what will?” She smiled coaxingly, which only brought an answering scowl to Lance’s features. She took a step closer. “Reed is waiting in his study to talk to you about the arrangements.”
“You’re forgetting another thing, aren’t you? Your sister won’t let me in the house.”
“I haven’t forgotten. But Amelia is likely to be asleep. And even if she’s not, Reed won’t let her interfere with something this important. Won’t you at least speak to him, Lance?”
Her sweet, wheedling tone could make him forget his own name, but this time it only served to stiffen his resolve. She was the perfect coquette, confident of her power, certain of her allure, damn her. It was all he could do to resist. “Dammit, Summer…quit trying to work your blasted wiles on me. It’s not going to work. I’m not some tame pansy you can ride herd on.”
“Gracious, I never thought you were, not for a single, solitary instant, I promise.” Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Will you at least talk
to Reed before you say no?”
He held his head away and glowered at her.
“What can I do to convince you?” she asked softly.
“You might try honesty instead of your female tricks.”
“I tried that, Lance. I’ve persuaded…I’ve pleaded…I’ve used reason. But you’re so muleheaded and proud that nothing works.” Her smile took the sting out of her accusation. “All I have left is feminine wiles.”
He muttered a curse under his breath, but he could feel himself weakening. “I don’t suppose you can help it,” he said grudgingly. “Playing the flirt comes as natural to you as breathing.”
Summer pouted attractively. “That certainly isn’t very complimentary.”
“You don’t need compliments, princess. What you need is a good paddling.”
“Lance…shame on you! You wouldn’t raise a hand to a lady, would you?”
Her dancing emerald eyes told him very clearly she knew she had won—and so did he, though he didn’t want to admit it.
With a harsh jerk, he hauled her against his body. “Maybe I would. Just don’t push me too far.”
She could smell his skin, smell the dust and sweat and heat of him, and she wanted more. Raising her lips to his, she tried with a sweet caress to draw his anger from him. Her tactic succeeded…partially. Only somehow Lance turned the tables on her, and it was she who found herself trembling and on the defensive. She drowned in the dark seizure of his kiss, and knew a profound disappointment when he abruptly let her go.
“Now, get the hell out of here before I forget it’s broad daylight.”
“Broad daylight never stopped you before,” Summer murmured wickedly, and laughingly scurried out of his way when he pretended to lunge after her. “I’ll tell Reed you’re coming after you finish here.”
She wanted to be there during their discussion, but she knew her presence would be unwise. Her husband and her brother needed to come to know each other without her interference, and to realize they needed each other. She hadn’t lied about that. Reed did urgently require help with the ranch, even if he wasn’t willing to admit his limitations. And Lance needed to be accepted into the family, without feeling like he was surrendering his manhood by taking charity. He needed the responsibility and challenge that running an operation like Sky Valley afforded. And he needed to believe the Westons trusted him to oversee such an endeavor. Her husband was a strong, proud man, too proud to walk in anyone’s shadow—and special tact was required in handling him.
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