The Merry Widow of Tanner's Ford (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  “Is this the man you were talking about, Doctor Meshevski? The one that needs my help?”

  He turned his head over his shoulder. He had to tilt it down to see her. The tiny woman must be cold because she’d wrapped a thick scarf around her neck and face. Dang, there went the fantasy of finding a hot, sexy woman to marry. If she couldn’t take the cold, she wouldn’t last past September in Montana. He sent her a glare, then faced forward again.

  “You’d best be nice to the lady,” said the diabolical doctor with a too-sweet smile. “She’s going to take care of you.”

  A mix of chill and heat rumbled through him. “I don’t need a nurse,” he said through clenched teeth. Worse than going without a woman was having one near and not being able to touch. It didn’t stop his cock rising at the possibility of a woman massaging his sore muscles. Or even better, hard ones.

  “Good, because Mrs. Grant is not a nurse. She is, however, an excellent cook and housekeeper. Since you can’t get along on your own, she’ll stay near in case you need something.”

  He and the Doc glared at each other, eye to eye. He hated hospitals. Hated people telling him what to do and charging him for the privilege. Hated the stink of…was that vanilla and chocolate? He sniffed. Peppermint? The scent seemed to come from the direction of the well-wrapped woman.

  “I can’t afford a housekeeper,” he said, grumbling.

  “No charge. Marci needs a place to stay for a bit.”

  Instead of her usual damn-the-torpedoes expression, the Doc looked embarrassed. At least, that was why he figured her color was high. Who was she trying to fob off on him?

  “Let me guess,” he said slowly. “This woman’s on the run from the law. That why’s her face is all covered up. No, thank you.” He looked at the short woman. Definitely the scent of vanilla. And was that a touch of chocolate on her right cheek? Damn, she smelled a lot like the brownies his granny used to make. His belly growled. “No offense, ma’am, but I don’t want trouble. I’ll take my chances alone.”

  He turned away. A hand gripped his elbow. Maybe it was just coincidence, but those small fingers gripped a pressure point. It hurt like hell, not that he’d let it show. She brushed against him as she released his arm. If that was her breast, it was the closest he’d come to one since they’d kicked Charlene out. That meant he’d gone without a woman for over four years. It hadn’t bothered him until now. He could hide pain, but it was a hell of a lot more difficult to hide the boner under the loose hospital gown and shirt.

  “Mr. MacDougal,” she said softly, “I’m not in trouble. I need a place to stay for a while because my home and everything in it burned to the ground.”

  Simon groaned and dropped his head. He’d acted like a prime jerk. He couldn’t imagine how he’d cope if his home burned down. Generations had lived in there since 1846. He and Lance still worked the land pretty much the same way. No hormones, pesticides, or other chemicals had ever touched Tanner’s Ford Valley.

  Thanks to the forward thinking of his ancestors, Valley people still controlled one heck of a lot of land. That gave them the right to help decide where to put the badly needed road between Dillon and Wisdom. Unlike the trail carved over thousands of years, the highway ran halfway up the valley to protect the rich bottom land. Handed down by their great-great-grandparents, it was his responsibility to pass on the legacy.

  His home meant so much to him, and she’d lost hers.

  “I’m only asking to stay for a few weeks, to get my feet back under me,” she continued.

  His cock had drooped at the thought of a fire destroying everything, but her voice revived it. He didn’t care about her feet. He wanted her belly under his. Or his belly behind her ass as he slid in from behind.

  But even if she was willing, nothing like that was going to happen with this damn cast. And then she’d be gone. Unless he could convince her to stay on as cook and housekeeper.

  “I hope everyone got out safe,” he said gruffly. Oh, God. Was she wrapped up like that because she’d been burned so badly she had to hide her hideous face? He pointed vaguely in her direction and spoke to the Doc. “Ah, the lady isn’t the one needing a doctor, is she, because—”

  The woman began unwinding her scarf.

  “Mrs. Grant,” said the doctor, interrupting, “you don’t have to tell him—”

  “It’s all right. I’m asking to live in Mr. MacDougal’s home. He deserves to see what he’s getting. Perhaps he’s not man enough to face me.”

  Aw, shit.

  With that challenge he’d have to put up with whatever horrid thing had been done to her. But it couldn’t be worse than some of the men who came back from ’Nam. His older brother’s friends were mostly the same people inside their scars. This woman would be no different.

  She brushed past to face him. His side burned where she’d touched. She slowly finished unwrapping the colorful scarf from her head. He mentally braced himself not to grimace. Solemn eyes the color of chocolate returned his gaze. He looked for flaws, but she was pretty, even beautiful. Except for the right side of her face. A swollen red line started at the corner of her right jaw and ran to the upper part of her cheek.

  “A piece of glass scratched me when I escaped the fire.”

  Glass? It looked one hell of a lot like a knife cut from a right-handed man slicing up in a backhand motion. But it wasn’t his business what happened to her. She’d only be staying with him for a bit, then she’d be gone. Maybe not by his choice, but no city gal would want to live in an old cabin full of used stuff.

  “Heck, that’s nothing,” he said, taking a closer look at her.

  She’d pulled her hair into a thick, black braid. He couldn’t tell how far down her back it went. He liked long hair though he saw few women with it. Ranching took a lot of work and fussing with long hair took time that could be spent more productively. But he’d always had fascination with running his hand through it. Brushing long hair would be so erotic.

  His cock lengthened, pulling the blood from his brain. That must be why he was light-headed. He could see her sitting with her back to him as he worked. Both of them naked. Long, strokes with a soft brush that, once her hair was straight, he could use on her skin.

  “I escaped,” she said abruptly. “Everything burned, and now I have nothing but a few clothes and my life. I don’t feel comfortable working in public until this heals.”

  Her fingertips grazed her cheek. A line of butterfly kisses might ease her pain. Of course, he’d continue farther down. Past her neck to her—

  “We’d both be better off with this temporary arrangement.”

  He jerked back to the present. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For what happened and for saying—”

  “That’s fine, Mr. MacDougal. You didn’t know.”

  “It’s no excuse for bad manners,” he said, grumbling. “Especially to a lady.”

  “You can make it up to me by paying for my food and letting me live with you,” she said. “I don’t have any money, but I know some nursing and I’ll do whatever you need.”

  Had she given a bit of emphasis on the last few words? Her eyes dropped. To look at his cock? He leaned forward so his shirttail would cover the solid flesh rising from his groin. Though it was hard to see with her milk-toffee skin, he was sure her cheeks turned pink. He looked closer. So had the tips of her ears. He’d bet his championship buckle she was blushing below her belt as well.

  He could get along with this small, pretty woman. Oh, yeah. No problem at all. Even if he was reading her wrong and she wasn’t interested in more than cooking and cleaning, he wouldn’t mind her company. But getting out of here was the only thing that mattered right now. He’d deal with everything else later, including the pain in his lower leg and his throbbing and equally painful cock.

  “Can you cook?”

  Her dark eyes turned up at the corners, as did those full, luscious lips. Dang, he could see himself nibbling them for hours. And if she put those thick lips over his cock and
—

  “There’s a box of brownies still warm from the oven waiting in your truck. Why don’t you try one and see what you think?”

  Sex was a possibility in the future. Food was now. He’d refused what they’d called supper and had worked through lunch. His mouth flooded with saliva.

  “You made brownies?” She nodded. “Then what are we waiting for?”

  Chapter Six

  Marci didn’t get to escape that quickly. It turned out they had to wait for Simon to eat, be shaved, and learn how to use the crutches he grumbled about. There was extra food, sent in by the Climax Roadhouse, so she had a bite as well. While she ate in the nurse’s lounge, Nikki explained that Montana men believed real men protected and provided for their woman and children. Case closed.

  Ranchers might think they’re tough, she’d been told, but nothing makes them stronger than the love of a good woman. Since the Tanner’s Ford ranches did things the old way, the men spent many nights rolled up by the fire, alone except for their horse, cattle, and a million bright stars. Coming home to hot food, their children’s voices, and their woman’s smile reminded them how much they’d lose if they didn’t treat her right. Nikki then winked and told her to let Simon treat her like a woman.

  Marci was used to being treated like a wife, a convenience rather than someone to be cherished. She’d have to pay attention and let Simon show her the way. She kept that in mind as they finally made their slow way down the hall. Seeing the door ahead, she walked faster to push it open.

  “I’ll get that,” ordered Simon.

  She stopped and turned. They’d only gone about thirty feet but he’d put so much effort into it that his chest heaved. This would be hard for him. Most things he’d been proud of as an independent man were no longer possible. It was only temporary, but he would be frustrated. If she worked on arousing Simon he might avoid thinking about what he couldn’t do, and look forward to a few things he could.

  “I may have a bum leg but I’m still man enough to open doors,” he said with a scowl. “I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a minute.” He looked at her small suitcase. “I should be carrying that for you.”

  Marci had seen many beautiful women manipulate men. It had made her mentally roll her eyes at the time, but she hadn’t forgotten how they did it.

  “I’ll let you make it up to me later,” she replied, using a low, sensuous voice. She dropped her eyes, then raised them to meet his as if in challenge.

  He flashed her a sexy smile in return. Butterflies erupted under her ribs. Tingles flowed to the sides and down, setting with a dull throb between her legs. The smile faded as he started forward again, but her tingles didn’t. This man had qualities she’d never felt in another. He wanted to carry her suitcase and open her door, not in a showy way but just because it was the right thing for a man to do.

  It made her feel special, as if she was worth his time and attention. She wasn’t sure how to handle being valued. Ted’s lack of caring was a trial, but it was impersonal. He didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. And he never expected anything personal from her. As she had no value to him other than as a servant, she was just…there.

  Simon jammed the rubber tips of his crutches into the floor at every step as if to punish it. He kept his jaw clenched and his eyes locked on the door as he fought his way forward. She watched with a new respect. This man hurt, he was tired, his life had been totally messed with, yet he wanted to care for her.

  What would he be like when his leg was healed and his life was back in order?

  She waited patiently while he figured out how to balance on his good leg and push the lever. When the door opened he shuffled forward. He leaned his shoulder against the door as if exhausted. He motioned for her to go through. He was a gentleman, and they let ladies go first. She smiled in thanks and walked past. She turned, ready to hold the door for him, but he pushed off and straightened, grimacing in what she expected was pain and frustration.

  He didn’t want her, didn’t want to be here, yet was behaving better than Ted on a good day. She wasn’t used to having someone think of her. Ted had excellent manners and displayed them perfectly when he felt it necessary, which meant when someone important watched. The rest of the time he treated her like his personal servant. And she’d let him.

  Not Simon. His manners were a part of him, just like his stubborn determination.

  She liked Simon, a lot. But she’d liked the way Ted treated her at first. Could she trust her own judgment? She was sure Simon was nothing like Ted, but she still needed to learn more about the man. Just because he had manners and his taut body made her legs wobble and her pussy quiver didn’t mean she should stay near.

  Yet, though he and Brenda obviously had a history, and he was angry at her for destroying his boots and jeans, Nikki said he still treated her with respect. He yelled, even cursed a bit, but Marci could see it was all bluster.

  Ted had never raised his hand to her, yet she knew if she’d destroyed one of his prized possessions, as Brenda had Simon’s boot, he would have hurt her in ways that made abuse hard to prove.

  Humiliation does not leave visible marks. But it stains the soul forever.

  She would hold off on her thoughts about Simon MacDougal. Once his painkillers wore off, she’d find a few things out. He was frustrated now, but add pain and the inability to do everyday things at home would drive him crazy, especially as he couldn’t do a darn thing about it. It would make him cranky, frustrated, and furious. If he had a temper, or any other bad habits and behaviors, she would learn about them before Monday. If he passed her test, she might stay on for a bit after he got the walking cast.

  She let him escort her to the truck and open the passenger door, but it was Simon who climbed in. She went around to the driver’s side. The metal box she’d left between the seats was already in his lap when she opened her door.

  “These brownies for me?” He didn’t wait for her answer. He opened the tin and groaned. “Oh, baby, you have no idea.” He devoured the first one while she adjusted the seat, put on her seat belt, and started the truck. She put it into reverse and turned to him for directions.

  “Follow the highway west,” he said after swallowing. “Turn right on Valley Road. We’re the MD Connected, the last ranch on your left. But we have to stop at the J Bar C to get my truck.”

  “This isn’t your truck?”

  “No, ma’am. I borrowed it from my cousin. Second ranch on your left once you leave the highway. Dang, these are good.”

  Fifteen minutes and another two brownies later, Mr. Hunky Macho Cowboy was slumped against the door, sound asleep. The highway was clear so she checked out the passenger seat. Simon wore a pair of thin hospital pajama bottoms under his shirt, courtesy of the young nurse. His hat was tilted forward, covering his face as he slept. She’d already memorized it, as well as the rest of him.

  She’d stopped in her tracks when she saw him escaping as fast as his cast would allow. His fire-red hair caught her attention, then the wide back that led to the thick leather belt. Below that was a tightly curved naked butt. The arms supporting him had great biceps and forearms.

  It was the back view that made her realize she might have seen him heading into the Climax Roadhouse a couple of times. Since his face would have been covered by his wide cowboy hat, she wouldn’t have known about his hair. She had a pretty good idea there was a cloud of golden-red short and curlies between his legs. That, and a pretty impressive cock. He’d tried to hide his erection when they met but it was obvious he was interested. Or maybe he was just desperate for a woman and any would do.

  His face was rugged, handsome and, most of the time she’d seen him, glowering. Simon MacDougal didn’t hide his emotions to suit whoever he was sucking up to. She bet he wasn’t the type to stomp on someone weaker to get praise for their work, either. He’d stomp, no doubt about it. But it would be on someone who needed it.

  She liked what she’d seen, front and back. The way his chest, a
rm, and back muscles flexed as he learned to work the crutches had her fanning her face. So did the memory of those taut, naked butt cheeks. He had body hair, but not too much. There were enough golden-red curls on his chest to run her fingers through. His hair touched the collar of his cotton shirt. That meant she could yank it to hold him close. Like, if he was kissing her and she wanted more. Or licking her.

  Heat flashed. Come heck or high water, she’d find a way to make him do both.

  She’d asked Nikki if she might hurt his broken leg if she seduced him. After blushing, Nikki let her in on the big secret. Simon had a minor fracture below his knee but the only way to keep him off his feet for the weekend was to encase his whole leg. On Monday she was to bring him back for a walking cast.

  Nikki also suggested Marci give Simon a good reason to be glad he spent the weekend in bed. After everything Nikki had done for her in the past few weeks, shouldn’t she make sure that Simon wasn’t angry with the good doctor? To help in the process Nikki made sure Simon was shaved so Marci’s inner thighs wouldn’t get beard burn. She figured a man with a full leg cast could lie on his back and perform oral sex if she knelt above him. It was another thing Marci was eager to experience.

  She saw the sign for Valley Road ahead. She slowed and turned onto the gravel road. Another fifteen minutes of careful driving brought her to a set of fieldstone pillars. She had to drive about thirty feet off the road before passing under the sign that spelled out the letter “J” followed by a long dash mark and then a “C.” Too late she saw a bunch of pipes running across the lane. First the front tires, then the back rattled so loud she thought she’d done something wrong. Simon woke up at the noise but all he did was yawn.

  “What was that?” she flashed a frown at him.

  “Cattle and horses won’t walk over the bars.” He scratched his chest. “Keeps you from having to open and shut a gate every time you drive through.”

  He yawned again and stretched out his arms. They were so long the left one almost reached her breast. It tingled in anticipation. He noticed where his fingers were and pulled back. Then he pulled his coat over his lap. She hid her smile. So, the thought of touching her made him hard? That would make seducing him at lot easier. A good thing since she’d never tried to seduce anyone, though Simon seemed like a sure bet.