"Well, you certainly did that," his father said, his voice irritated. "Though, I didn't see you doing much my way."
"Yes, I entertained myself with the ladies, but I also worked every job you put in my path," Martin admitted. "Not a one of them was satisfying."
A frown creased his father's face and his eyes narrowed. "Yet, you failed at all of them. Jobs are not to make you happy. They are to show the world your strength, your stamina, and demonstrate that you know what they need to succeed."
That was the problem. If you don't like performing like a monkey, you're fired. And Martin was not one to perform for anyone, so he would never make it in his father’s business. In fact, he didn’t even like railroads.
"No, Father, that is what you like to do. Not me."
With a giant sigh, his father shook his head. "Well, now you have no choice."
Matin let the comment slide because he had a very good choice.
"Every society mother in Durango wanted you to marry their daughter," he said with a snort. "Won't they be disappointed."
Disgust gripped Martin’s stomach. Why did his father want him wed so quickly? "For the last six months, all you've done is push me and I'm tired of it. First with the jobs, the slimy politics, and everything else in between and then the debutantes."
"Every one of them you turned down or found fault with. Maybe tonight's fiasco was good for you. Maybe it was what you needed."
A smile crossed Warren face. "Father, you could have stopped this marriage."
Did his father believe this little ceremony would force him to settle down? Because it only made Warren more determined to prevail without his father.
"Probably, but I didn't want to. This was the perfect opportunity for you to grow up and Sidney Trippe is one of the best ranchers in the territory. Not only will the marriage end you seeking out the wrong kinds of women, but it gives me an inside edge into the Colorado ranchers."
A slow burn like prairie fire in summer spread through August. "Once again, you used your son for a business ploy. Well, this time I hope you got everything you needed from the situation. As soon as this storm ends, Meg and I are going to Elk Ridge Ranch. We may be there a few days or for months."
Martin received the reaction he expected as his father's eyes grew large, his face turning a deep shade of red as he opened his mouth. "Why? What's there for you? This is only prolonging the inevitable of you finding work."
A smile slid across Martin’s face as he provoked his father even more. Why hadn't he thought to do this before coming to Durango? Now he felt the urge, the necessity, to go to the ranch where he lived as a boy.
"The grandparents are getting up in age and I need to introduce my new wife to them," he said smiling. "Don't know when we'll return to Denver.”
For a moment, he thought his father might have a stroke as his face turned red and his eyes flashed with annoyance. But before he continued his tirade, a knock sounded at the door.
Mrs. Trippe walked in wringing her hands. "Mr. Scott, my daughter has barricaded herself in her room."
Martin started laughing. His wife was no dummy. Not only could he not get to her, neither could anyone else. "Don't worry, Mrs. Trippe,” he said. "Tomorrow morning, if the snow has stopped, we'll be leaving. Somewhere along the road to Elk Ridge Ranch, we'll consummate our marriage."
Nervously, she licked her lips. "Is Elk Ridge in Durango? Is that your home or the governor's mansion?"
The woman was so eager to make certain this union familiarized her daughter with society, she would be extremely saddened. "No. My grandparents have a ranch near Pagosa Springs.”
Her mouth dropped open and he couldn't resist adding. "We'll probably stay there for a long time."
"Oh," she said. "Why not Denver?”
Why didn't she just ask him if Meg would be introduced to society in the capital? That's what she hungered for, but he would deny giving her the satisfaction. In fact, she needed to understand he was done with debutantes and balls and his father's politics. This little ball had burned him badly.
He glanced at his father. "Because it's time I went out on my own, away from my father's influence. No more society balls for me."
Chapter 11
The next morning, the sun shone brightly and Meg faced the hardest journey of her life.
"Son, you're being ridiculous," his father said to Martin.
Meg sat beside him in the wagon, her trunk loaded in the back. All of her things, her patterns, her magazines, her fabrics were stuffed into wooden suitcase along with her clothes. After the storm ended, her father brought her things to her.
Now, another type of storm brewed. One between father and son.
Martin glanced down at his father. "All you had to do was tell her parents, no, my son is not marrying your daughter. You thought it would be a good idea to force us into marriage and now here we are. So we're going someplace where we will be welcomed."
Biting her lip, Meg looked away. After her father brought her things, he had gone with the other men at the party to search for Edith. Oh how she prayed her friend would be found alive. Not even a chance to say goodbye when they located her, because Meg was leaving with the total stranger she married.
“Fannie, I'll write to you as soon as we arrive. Please tell me if they find Edith. I'm so afraid for her," Meg said, glancing at her younger sister, her heart breaking. She didn't want to leave her sisters. She didn't want to go with August.
"Don't worry, I will," Fannie promised. "You be careful."
Tears clogged her throat and yet anger roiled through her.
“Meg, you write us and tell us where you are," her mother said in her strict tone. No longer did she have the right to use that attitude with Meg.
Turning her back, she ignored her mother. If only her parents and Martin’s father had not forced them to marry.
"It's time to go. Three days of traveling is before us," Martin said and Meg felt her heart slam in her chest. Fear overwhelmed her.
When she went to New York, she would be leaving her family, but not today. Not traveling across the state in the wrong direction.
"Son, you had no choice, but to marry the girl," his father said softly to Martin, which caused her husband's face to tighten and his hands gripped the reins tighter.
"Goodbye, Father," Martin said as he snapped the reins and urged the horses forward.
“Fannie, I love you," Meg said. "And Daisy too."
"I'll tell her," her sister promised. "Write."
"I will," she said.
“Meg,” her mother called, but she refused to look at her. Last night, her mother had gotten her way. Meg was a married woman, but everyone realized she didn't want Martin.
As they rolled through town, tears splashed down her cheeks. Unable to stop them as she left everything behind with a man she knew so little about.
"Please don't cry," he said, glancing at her. "We'll get the marriage annulled as soon as possible."
"What if I can't go back." What if she never saw her sisters again? What if she never forgave her parents?
A snicker came from him. "Well, I'm certainly not returning to Denver and my father."
Even with all the built up anger toward her mother and father, no matter, she still loved her silly family. Now she didn't know when she would see them again and they parted on such angry terms. Sniffing, she thought they had gotten their way. Would she ever return to Durango?
Glancing out at the snow-covered road, she sighed. "Why do I feel like we're two lost souls heading out on a journey that isn't where we want to go."
"Maybe because we are," he said, gazing at her as he urged the team on. "No matter what, I give you my word that as long as we're married, I'll protect you."
Reaching up, she dabbed her eyes. "How long do we have to get the marriage annulled?"
Why did it seem like with the morning sun and their departure that ending this union seemed a slim chance if any? Would she have to come to terms with the weddi
ng and accept Martin as her husband? Married strangers starting out on a journey.
"This is my first annulment. I have no idea. I've written to my friend James and asked him to mail me at my grandparents’," he said.
"Sadly, no one is going to believe that we haven't slept together. Especially if we spend the night out on the trail," she said.
"Then we'll file for a divorce, if that's what you want," he said.
Pulling the wagon through the snow, the horse led them out of town. Away from her family, her dreams, and everything she'd ever known. A pain gripped her chest at the hurt that filled her. More tears threatened to fall, but she took a deep breath.
Life had dealt her a husband and now she needed to learn to cope. But she refused to give up yet.
With a sigh, she gazed out at the last of her hometown countryside. "Right now, I don't know what I want. This wasn't supposed to happen." As she stared at him, her heart swelled with hurt. "Everything has changed."
He snorted. "Now we're going to my grandparents as a married couple. There we can decide what to do next."
"Yes," she said. "We need a plan."
Chapter 12
As the sun sank lower, the temperature began to drop, and Martin realized they would not reach the next town before darkness fell. He'd been optimistic they could spend the night in a hotel, but there was nothing on the road so far.
They would need to pitch a tent and sleep on the hard ground. He came prepared just in case, but his bride would prefer they slept inside.
"When will we arrive in Yellow Jacket,” she asked.
The small community was merely a spot in the road, not even halfway. Gazing at the sky, he prayed the snow would hold off until they reached his grandparents. Traveling this time of year was often dangerous, but he needed distance from his father. For his sanity, it was worth the risk and yet he was also risking Meg’s life.
"I don't think we're going to make the town before dark," he said. "There's a tent in the back of the wagon and a basket of food your mother insisted I bring and some canned goods. What if we just spend the night on the trail?"
Already he could see her mind working and knew her response.
"We'll never be able to prove we didn't sleep together," she said with a sigh. "How can we get an annulment if people think we've consummated our marriage?"
Somehow Martin didn't think they had a chance of ending this marriage, but he had to keep her hopes alive. So far, she had been a good traveling companion, never complaining, but he didn't want that to change.
"Don't give up hope," he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. Her fingers were icy. "Are you cold?"
"A little," she said.
"Sit closer to me and wrap the lap blanket around both of us. Together, our body heat should help keep you warm."
The road was clear of snow, but most of the ground was covered in the white fluff. If you lived in Colorado, you learned the basics of winter survival. "Look for a place to camp for the night. We need to start a fire and pitch the tent before dark."
The feel of her hip was snug against his own as she tucked the blanket around the two of them. A tingle of awareness spiraled up his spine.
Today she wore a bonnet over her hair that blocked the sun and kept the wind from blowing her waves of curls. The woman had gorgeous hair that he wanted to run his hands through. The thick richness of her curls and the way she smelled. Of course, he also liked the hint of lavender that emanated from her closeness.
The thought of the two of them together in the small tent, trying to stay warm through the night had him dreading the evening.
After all, he was a man. A man who very much enjoyed women.
"Look over there," she said, pointing to a place where the snow had melted against tall rocks that faced the setting sun. "Those boulders would radiate heat and help keep us warm."
But it wouldn't keep him safe from her.
"You're probably right and the horse can stay in the circle with us." A quick glance at the sky told him the sun would soon be sinking. "Great eyes, I think that's where we'll stop for the night."
She bit her lip and he could tell she was nervous. It would take some time to put her at ease.
As he pulled the horse to a halt, he turned to her. "While I set up the tent, why don't you collect some firewood."
"All right," she said as he wrapped his hands around her and lifted her to the ground.
The woman had such a tiny waist and he loved the way her breasts were mere inches from his eyes. With a frown, he reminded himself they might be married for now, but it wouldn't be forever.
She wandered from the rocky side of the hill, and in a few moments, came back with her arms loaded with broken branches. "The wood feels damp."
Most of the debutantes he knew would never agree to sleeping in a tent or gathering firewood. So far, he liked the practicality of his wife.
Pounding the last stake into the ground, he lifted the center pole on their shelter for the night, pulling the tent upright. "Maybe it will light."
Just as he finished, he noticed she had piled the sticks up and then bunched a piece of material under the kindling. "All the grass and straw was wet, so I found this scrap in my bag."
Stunned, he watched as she set the spark causing a flame on the cotton, which in turn caused the broken sticks to begin to burn.
In a matter of minutes, she had a nice roaring blaze going. "Wow, my wife can build a fire."
A frown crossed her face. "Of course. My father made sure all of us were prepared if ever we were caught out in a blizzard." In the light of the crackling flames, her eyes darkened. "The more miles between us, the more his deception hurts."
What could he say? The man had promised to help her reach New York and let her attend fashion school, but it was all lies. There was no way to ease the pain of a parent's deceit. All too well, he experienced the hurt of what she was feeling.
"Why did you want to go to school instead of getting married and having children?"
The question had bothered him for the last twenty miles. Most women didn't want to go traipsing off to New York.
A laugh echoed in the rocks as she turned toward him. "Yes, women are eager to marry. But I wanted something different for my life. Designing and creating new dresses is something I love. My dream was for my designs to show up in a magazine."
Picking up a thicker piece of wood, she laid it on the blaze. "That doesn't mean I don't want a husband and family. First, I wanted the knowledge and experience of working in fashion."
Now he understood why she wanted to go to school. "After we get the annulment, is that what you're going to do?"
Like a lost soul staring into the fire, she seemed to disappear inside herself. Finally, she looked up and smiled.
"That's my plan," she said, looking up at him. "What about you? Why are we going to your grandparents and why was your father so angry?"
Since he graduated from college, nothing he did satisfied his father. From his choice of women, to his dislike of the terrible jobs he found him. Nothing.
Throwing another log on the fire, he waited until it took hold.
"Because I defied him by refusing to go back to Denver with him and my stepmother. Believe me, you should be glad. Clara would have made our lives a living hell with all the grand parties she would have held to announce our marriage."
With a sigh, he looked across the fire at her. "Plus, Papa would have insisted since I'm married, I should go back to work for the family business and run it until he retired. Then I would step in his shoes and continue the tradition."
"That's not what you want?"
"No," he said as he sank down onto a log near the fire. "He's found me a number of different jobs and none of them I've enjoyed. Not one. And Clara…you thought your mother was a social climber. That woman has more ladders and has scaled more walls to reach my father.
“The socialite snared him hook, line and wedding ring." A laugh escaped him. "The man jumps to do
her bidding. I'm sorry, you probably enjoy balls."
The grimace on her face in the firelight surprised him.
"Not really, I enjoy making the dresses to wear, but parties--I don't know. Mother pushed events so much, I found I resisted them because of the way she stressed them."
A smile graced her face and it was one of the few times today she smiled. So Meg wasn't a social climber like her mother and his stepmother. That was good to know. Staring at her, he wondered what if they had met under different circumstances. What if before that moment in the library, they had been introduced and danced and flirted? Would he have pursued her?
Glancing at her, the reflection of the flames reflected from her emerald eyes making them shine in the firelight. Without a doubt, he would have chased his wife at the ball last night. Marriage had been on neither one of their minds that night. What would have happened if the scandal hadn't forced them to marry?
Chapter 13
Meg woke during the night, a nightmare startling her wide awake, her heart pounding in her chest, her breathing rapid. Sitting up, it took her a moment to remember where she was. With a sigh, she lay back on the hard ground and pulled the blanket around her.
The dream and being chilled had her teeth chattering.
"What's wrong," Martin asked.
"I had a bad dream," she said in the darkness. "I dreamed I married."
A chuckle resounded in the tent. "You are."
A shiver rumbled through her. "And I'm shivering."
The sound of rustling echoed in the small space and then the feel of him, wrapping his arms and pulling her up against his hard male body. His chest, his legs, snug against her and yet warmth and security overwhelmed her and she sighed. "We shouldn't be doing this."
"You're cold. I'm cold, and we need our rest. I've wrapped both blankets around us and it feels warmer in here already."
The Debutante's Scandal: Western Historical Romance (Debutantes of Durango Book 4) Page 4
