“It’s because he was so close to getting the ranch and then it was snatched away from him,” Anne said.
Eddie shrugged his shoulders, seeming to dismiss the problem. “We’d better get to those books,” he said. “If you want to check the herd, we’re going to have to get started early in the morning.”
“What do you think of him?” Dolores asked Anne. “From all the things I heard Carl say, I was expecting him to stumble over his own feet and keep well back from any horse or mule.”
“He’s very handsome,” Anne said. “And he’s grown very tall.”
Though Dolores Moreno was unmarried and eleven years older than Anne, they had formed a close friendship years ago, sharing confidences as a matter of course.
“I wasn’t talking about his size and appearance, though that’s a pleasant surprise as well. It’s not every orphaned gal who finds herself suddenly married to a rich man who’s handsome to boot.”
“I didn’t marry him because he would be rich,” Anne said.
“Everybody knows you’ve adored him for years. Folks also know you were desperate to escape your uncle’s plans to sell you to the highest bidder. Still, you’ve got to admit things look like they’re turning out remarkably well.”
Anne couldn’t deny that. From the moment she’d looked up to see Peter looking magnificent and twice as big as life, things had gone way beyond anything she’d ever hoped for. She’d never imagined Peter being able to stand up to her uncle or taking over the ranch as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Belser’s repeated insistence that he was an imposter didn’t bother Peter in the slightest. Peter was perfect, everything a girl could dream of in a husband.
And that was the problem.
The Peter she’d known all those years ago wasn’t perfect. He was nice and sweet and kind, and he never said any of the terrible things his brother and other people said. He comforted her when she cried, but he didn’t rescue her from danger.
He’d been only fourteen at the time, but his character seemed to have been formed. At least everyone else seemed to think so. Uncle Carl had been relieved when Peter and his father went back East. Gary had remained at the ranch. But when Gary was killed and Peter was the only heir, things changed. Uncle Carl’s determination to leave his ranch to his only blood kin never wavered, but he complained constantly that it would be Peter.
Whenever he was out of temper, he’ll say, “He’l lose everything I’ve spent my whole life trying to build up.” Anne had always defended Peter, but she couldn’t help fearing Uncle Carl might be right.
But the man who’d showed up to rescue her showed none of the shortcomings Uncle Carl had feared. He seemed a little unsettled by the circumstances, but no more so than any man walking into a strange situation. Give him two days, and Anne expected he’d have everything under control. She’d have a wonderful, wealthy, perfect husband and a secure, rosy future.
That was why Anne couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that, as much as she tried not to think about it, Belser might be right.
Her new husband was just too good to be true.
An hour later Pete emerged from the ranch office with an entirely different perspective on the situation. Carl Warren had been a very rich man. He could understand why Belser was so upset at losing the ranch. He could understand why Peter had given up the hardware store and come to Wyoming to take on a job nobody thought he could handle. He could understand why Anne was anxious to marry a man she hadn’t seen in years, a man who even as a child she must have sensed didn’t measure up to the challenges of the West. He could also understand why Bill Mason was so interested in the ranch. Carl had grabbed the best land in the area, nearly flat grazing land watered by creeks that flowed from the Big Horn Mountains and some timber-covered foothills. Those who came later got second-best. Anne and Dolores were still in the sitting room when he emerged from the ranch office.
“Did you find everything you need to know?” Anne asked.
“I found far too much to absorb in one evening,” Pete said. “I didn’t realize the Tumbling T was such a big ranch.”
“The biggest in this part of Wyoming,” Eddie said proudly.
“Do you want some coffee?” Dolores asked. “It won’t take but a few minutes to make more.”
“No. I’ve had enough for one night. I’ll think I’ll turn in.”
Dolores grinned. “I rather thought you would. After all, it is your wedding night.”
Pete had forgotten that, but it was clear from the white, frightened look on Anne’s face that she hadn’t.
“With all that’s happened today, I haven’t had time to give it much thought.”
“Anne has,” Dolores said, grinning. “She’s been thinking of nothing but this night for months.”
“I’ve been thinking of his coming,” Anne admitted. “A woman should always think of her husband.”
But not think of their first night in bed together, Pete finished for her in his mind.
“You’ll have to tell me where to sleep,” Pete said. “I’m afraid I don’t remember the house that well.”
“You’ll sleep in your Uncle Carl’s room,” Dolores said.
“My room is right next to it,” Anne said.
“Your room is now your husband’s room,” Dolores said. “I’ve already moved your things.”
The last trace of color drained from Anne’s face. Pete didn’t know what was so frightening—he’d never considered himself very formidable—but Anne was clearly petrified of the idea of sleeping with him. He figured that despite the fact that she had adored Peter for years and probably thought herself half in love with him, she really didn’t know him. Now, brought face-to-face with a live, very real husband and told they were to share the same bed, she was reeling. She probably connected him with that disgusting pork rind who had tried to buy her. Pete didn’t think he was that bad, but he was older than this Peter fella.
“Come on,” Pete said, extending his hand to Anne. “You can help me unpack. I’m depending on you to keep Uncle Carl’s ghost at bay until I can prove I’m not such a good-for-nothing as I used to be.”
Chapter Three
Anne shrank from Peter’s outstretched hand. She’d looked forward to being his wife for the last several months, not only as something she wanted, but as the only way to save herself from her uncle, her chance to be something other than a piece of property to be handed from one man to another, to have a husband she could love, a home and family of her own.
She hadn’t realized until now that she’d continued to think of Peter as the boy she knew, grown up in size but still shy, sweet, and mild-mannered. It wasn’t just Peter’s body that had grown and matured. He was no longer the same person inside or out. He seemed so much bigger than she’d imagined, so much more virile, so much more intimidating. The idea of going into a bedroom alone with him frightened her. The idea of its being Uncle Carl’s bedroom petrified her.
“Don’t be shy,” Dolores prodded. “You’re a married woman now.”
“I don’t feel married. It all happened so suddenly.”
“It’s not half as sudden as being hauled off by Cyrus,” Dolores said. “He’d have wrestled you down in the dust before you’d gotten a mile from here.”
The truth of that statement didn’t make Anne feel any better.
“You can sleep in your own room tonight if that’ll make you feel better,” Peter offered.
Anne brightened immediately and opened her mouth to gratefully accept his suggestion.
“She can’t do that,” Dolores said. “Nobody will believe she’s married if she doesn’t sleep in your bed.”
“They won’t know,” Peter said.
“It’ll be all over the ranch by noon tomorrow. Belser would like nothing better. He doesn’t like Anne, and he hates you. It would support his argument that you’re not Peter and you didn’t marry Anne.”
“But I did,” Peter said.
“But you can’t prove it, no
t without those papers you’ve got to send for.”
“How will Belser know where we’re sleeping?” Peter asked.
“He’ll listen at the door,” Anne said. “If you don’t lock it, he’s liable to come in and look. He sneaks around the house, prying into everything when he thinks no one is looking.”
“Anybody who opens my bedroom door without knocking and being invited in is liable to get shot.”
“You could lock your door,” Eddie said.
“I’m not locking my bedroom door,” Peter said. “Especially in my own house.”
Anne could tell he added that last as an afterthought. She guessed he was having trouble getting used to the idea of owning the ranch. Strange, but after all these months of hoping and planning, waiting anxiously and praying Peter would arrive in time, now that it had actually happened, it didn’t seem real to her, either. Maybe that was why she felt so reluctant to sleep in the same bed. She’d been a fool to think seeing Peter again would be like picking up where they’d left off ten years before, but his letters had seemed so much like the Peter she remembered, that was exactly what she had expected.
But Peter in person was quite different from Peter in a letter. She didn’t feel she knew him at all.
“I guess there’s nothing else to do but go up together,” Peter said, holding out his hand again.
Anne hesitated.
“Go on with him,” Dolores urged. “I know it seems strange to actually have him here after waiting all these months, but you’ll soon get used to it.”
Peter smiled reassuringly. “I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
“You can’t do that!” Dolores exclaimed.
“I can do anything I want,” Peter said. “It’s my house, my bride, and my wedding night.”
“Come on,” Eddie said to Dolores. “Let’s leave them to figure out things for themselves.”
Dolores looked reluctant to leave, but Eddie pushed her from the room. Anne felt as though her last support had vanished.
Peter picked up the oil lamp, the only light left in the room. “You’re going to have to lead the way,” he said. “I don’t remember where anything is.”
Anne led the way into the hall and up the stairs. Each step seemed to take her irrevocably closer to something she’d thought she wanted but now found frightening.
“Who sleeps in these rooms?” Peter asked.
“I slept in one, Belser one, and Uncle Carl one. The other two are for guests.”
“Did he have many guests?”
“Lots. Belser had to sleep in the bunkhouse all the time.”
“I’ll bet he didn’t like that.”
“No. It made him real mad.”
She paused before the door to Uncle Carl’s room. She couldn’t force herself to open it.
After a moment, Peter stepped past her and opened the door. “Doesn’t seem to be stuck. Opened easy as pie.”
He walked into the room and turned when she didn’t follow. “You know you have to come in, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“Are you afraid of me?”
She shook her head, but she was certain he could see the fear in her eyes.
“You don’t have to be. I know I’m nothing like you remember, but if you give me a chance, you’ll see I’m really not very different.”
Anne felt like a fool for being so hesitant. Here was the man she’d begged to marry her, who had agreed to marry her, she was certain, only because he felt sorry for her and wanted to help her, and she was acting as if she had something to be afraid of. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” She came to a halt three steps inside the room.
“It’s probably that wolf bait you call an uncle coming in here and trying to palm off that half-dead old man on you. That’s enough to cause any female to go off in a dead faint.”
“I never faint.”
“Good.” He looked sincerely relieved. “Ticklish females make me nervous.”
After the way he’d stood up to her uncle and Cyrus, she couldn’t imagine Peter being nervous about anything.
“You are scared of me, aren’t you? At least you’re frightened at the idea of sleeping in the same bed with me.”
She didn’t answer.
“Come on, tell the truth. We’re not going to do well together if we start hiding things from each other.”
“Yes, I am a little afraid.”
“Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere. Do you know what’s supposed to happen tonight?”
“Yes … no.” She couldn’t live on a ranch and not know what happened, but everybody acted so secretive when it came to what went on between a married couple, she figured they’d left out something important.
“Well, it’s not going to happen tonight,” he said. “So you can stop looking scared to death and take a deep breath.”
She felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from her heart. She felt almost giddy with relief. But her moment of comfort was brief. Didn’t he like her? Did he find her unattractive? Would he make her leave? “Don’t you want me?” she asked.
He looked a little embarrassed. She couldn’t imagine why. Men weren’t supposed to be nervous about bedding a woman. From all she’d heard, they practically had to be forced to wait a decent interval.
“I like you just fine,” Peter said. “You’re very pretty, but we don’t know each other. Well, hardly anymore, that is. You’ve had a very upsetting day. It wouldn’t be right to rush into something like this right away.” He waited a moment. “Don’t you agree?”
She nodded.
“Okay. Why don’t you show me where Dolores put my clothes. While I get my things organized, you can get ready for bed.”
Anne froze. There was only one bed in the room. He couldn’t mean they were to sleep in the same bed, not after what he’d just said. He was busy opening and closing drawers.
“Seems like everything here is yours,” he said when he turned to her. “You sure have a lot of clothes.”
“Some of them belonged to my mother.”
He held up one brown dress and frowned. “It looks too large.”
“Mama was bigger than I am. Uncle Carl said I’d grow into them, only I didn’t.”
“There’s certainly a lot of them.” He looked at his own clothes and frowned. “We’ll have to see about getting me something else to wear. I don’t think these are suitable for working around the ranch.”
She thought he looked very nice. She liked him dressed up. “Dolores said she put your clothes in the chest of drawers.”
“Probably because she couldn’t find any room in the wardrobe.” He looked at her a moment. “Something wrong?”
She couldn’t keep her gaze from turning to the bed. Feeling herself flush, she brought it back again.
He smiled. “Oh, that’s what’s got you ready to scurry up a tree. It’s a big bed. You’ll hardly know I’m in it.”
She’d have to be dead not to know he was in the same bed with her. She might be seventeen and inexperienced, sheltered and all that, but she was enough of a woman to know Peter Warren was more man than she had seen in her life. What’s more, he was exactly the kind of man guaranteed to turn a woman’s thoughts to things besides sewing and housekeeping. She felt herself flush.
Odd that she’d never thought about this aspect of her relationship with Peter. With other men it was unavoidable, but Peter … well, now it was unavoidable with him as well.
“Surely you don’t think I’m going to attack you after I promised to leave you alone?”
“No. I trust you.” And she did. She didn’t know why, since merely being in the room with him made her nervous, but she did.
“Well, you can’t go on being so afraid you’re practically trembling. You’ll never get a wink of sleep.”
She didn’t expect she would. She couldn’t imagine how she could.
“Here, take your clothes and change in the bathroom.”
She grabbed some clot
hes from one of the drawers and hurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. The room was pitch black. She couldn’t see a thing. A soft knock sounded at the door.
“You’ll need a light.”
Embarrassed, she opened the door and accepted the bedside lamp he handed her.
“You’ve got to stop being scared of me,” Peter said. “I’ll never intentionally do anything to hurt you. And call me Pete. I can’t stand Peter. It makes me think of a preacher I once knew.”
“I’ll try,” Anne said.
He chucked her under the chin. It comforted her, but it also made her a little angry. She wasn’t a baby. How is he to know that? That’s exactly what you’ve been acting like. Okay, so she had been foolish, but she still wasn’t a baby. He was older than she was. Lots of women got married a lot younger, and to older men. She knew one woman her age who had two children already.
She poured some water in the basin and washed her face.
She was going to have to start thinking of herself as a woman. Uncle Carl had always treated her like a little girl, requiring her to help Dolores in the kitchen and with the housework but never letting her be responsible for anything.
She unbuttoned her dress and let it drop to the floor. She unlaced her corset and discarded it as well. She stepped out of the shift and reached for her nightgown. She hadn’t paid any attention to what she was getting when she’d reached in her drawer. She’d gotten a faded gown made of sturdy cotton. She’d look like an old woman, but there was nothing she could do about it. She pulled the gown over her head. Clutching her clothes in her arms, ignoring the feel of her naked skin under the rough cotton, she opened the door and reentered the bedroom.
“I was beginning to think you’d escaped out the window,” Peter said. Pete. She had to remember he’d asked her to call him Pete. It fitted him better now. A name like Peter was too stodgy for him.
“I forgot. I’m not used to anybody waiting for me to finish.”
“No problem. After having to wash in a stream or a water hole, a bathroom is going to seem like an extravagant luxury. I may not come out for hours.”
Pete (The Cowboys) Page 4
