by Joyce Armor
Chapter 3
While Cal took care of removing evidence of her bath from the alcove, Lindy tended the stew and made three dozen fluffy biscuits. She checked his timepiece, which was still on the counter. It was 5:45. She must have dozed longer in the bath than she thought. Or was it the lovemaking that took so long? She smiled. She really lost all sense of time during that introduction to her inner woman. Thankfully, the stew wasn’t too stuck to the bottom of the pan, although it would have been a small price to pay for that amazing education.
She went about setting the table with the different plates in the sideboard, which apparently were remnants of a variety of china patterns, which she found somehow charming. I bet each one has a tale to tell. She found the silverware and napkins and added those, pleased with the outcome. Shortly after that, men started trickling in, doffing their hats and introducing themselves. She remembered Crane, Ben and Felix and tried to commit Jack, Joe, Flynn, Cobie and whatever that last mumbled name was to memory, though she thought it might take a while until she could match each name with the proper man.
She had felt somewhat shy with the men when she first arrived, especially since she was not looking her best, but somehow mating with Cal gave her confidence. Was it because now she was a true woman? That’s just silly. Whatever it was, she welcomed the feeling. As Cal walked in, Lindy glanced down at Ben’s hands and saw that they were dirty. This would not do. She hoped Cal wouldn’t mind. If he did, he would have a fight on his hands.
“Boys,” she said, clearing her throat. “Have you all washed your hands?”
Several of them looked sheepish. One by one, they all trooped back outside to the pump. Thankfully, the weather was dry so they had not removed their boots in the mud room and wouldn’t have to go through the ritual of putting them back on.
“Take the soap from the windowsill in the kitchen and a couple of dish towels to dry yourselves with!” she shouted after them.
Now it was just Lindy and Cal. She looked at him suspiciously and he grinned. “I washed, I swear.” He held his hands up.
“I don’t want to be their mother. Or yours. Honestly, though, it’s not even healthy to eat with dirty hands that have been God knows where during the day.”
“You’re absolutely right, Mrs. Bronson.”
“That’s the first of many times you’ll be saying that, Mr. Bronson,” she responded with a twinkle in her eye as she strode back into the kitchen.
He followed her, chuckling, and they each carried a large bowl of stew and set them at opposite ends of the table. Then they returned for the two trays of coffee mugs and water glasses and the two baskets of biscuits, butter and blueberry spread. After one last trip for the two coffee pots and two pitchers of water, the table was ready. To Lindy, it was a true partnership, although carrying food was a small thing. Or was it? Cal was thinking he had never smelled or seen anything remotely as good as this meal.
The men filed back in and chatted amiably as they took their seats. Cal pulled out Lindy’s chair at one end and then went and sat at the other end. Immediately the men started reaching toward the food when Lindy spoke.
“Um, excuse me.” The men froze. “Cal? Would you say the blessing?”
Sure, I will if I can think of one. He bought time by clearing his throat and lowering his head. The men, some with confused looks on their faces, followed suit. “Lord, bless this food we are about to eat and thank you for bringing Lindy to feed us. And to be my wife. Amen.”
Lindy stifled a laugh as Cal looked at her as if he expected her to bring down the wrath of God on him for that prayer. “Thank you, Cal. That was wonderful.”
The men waited as if she would come up with some other new rule. She smiled. “Dig in, boys.”
And they did. Soon the chatter started up again. The men talked about everything from breeding horses to branding to saloons. Cal squelched that talk before it became a discussion of saloon girls, as often happened with this group of seasoned bachelors. This was another thing he had not considered, what it would be like for Lindy to be exposed to this uncivilized crew. They were good men, as he had told her, but they all had become rather lax in the civilities without a close female influence. He smiled. Obviously, Lindy was determined to take on that role. He hoped they wouldn’t be grabbing their crotches or passing gas in her presence before she got them in line.
While they were eating and talking, the men “oohed” and “aahed” over the food, smacking their lips contentedly. The men nearest Lindy made valiant efforts to engage her in conversation, and she appeared friendly in her responses, although Cal could not hear most of what was said. At one point Ben said something and Lindy laughed. Cal found himself in the unfamiliar position of feeling a little jealous. Ben happened to glance at his boss just then and saw his glower. He got the message and focused solely on eating from that point on.
Lindy did not miss the interaction and raised her eyebrows when her husband next looked at her. He gave her a little innocent shrug, and she giggled. Several of the men turned to her, and she just shook her head. Then she thought of something.
“Gentlemen, I’m sorry to tell you there’s no dessert this evening, since I was…um…occupied much of this afternoon.”
Cal smiled, wondering if anyone else saw the way her face was turning pink.
“I promise I’ll try to include it from now on.”
Just about everyone assured her it was no problem. She glanced at the table then and was astounded to see that all the food was gone. It looked like someone had licked the stew bowl at her end, although she was certain it hadn’t happened. Cal rose then, and the men jumped up almost in unison. Most of them were younger than her husband, and she could see how much they respected him and followed his bidding.
“Felix and Flynn, you’re on early duty tomorrow. Bring the upper herd down to the lower pasture, and check all the fencing down there and make any repairs necessary.”
“And Joe, you lost at horseshoes, so you’re on stall-mucking duty. You others can continue looking for strays and check the rest of the fence lines. If there’s time, we’ll look for some mustangs.”
The men razzed Joe, who couldn’t have been older than 18 or 19, and he blushed.
Once the cowboys had departed, Lindy fetched more coffee from the kitchen and sat on one of the benches, next to her husband.
“I think I like it better with you sitting here. You’re too far away down there.”
“I think so, too.”
“Would you like to go for a ride and see the property? It won’t be dark for another hour or so.”
“I’d like that. Do I have time to clean up the dishes first?”
“You do if I help you.”
“As time goes on, Mr. Bronson, “I’m liking you better and better.”
* * *
Cal saddled the horses while Lindy changed into her only split riding skirt, a gift from her cousin Per. She knew western women typically rode astride and was determined Cal not see her as weak. Riding sidesaddle never made sense to her anyway. Her practical side saw it as a way to make sure women didn’t outride men. She would like to see them jump hedges or fences without their feet in the stirrups.
When she left the ranch house, she found Cal waiting out front with two horses, one a buckskin gelding, the other a powerful brown stallion.
“We don’t have a sidesaddle,” Cal said as he handed Lindy the reins.
“Wouldn’t be caught dead on one,” she replied, vaulting into the saddle before her husband could assist her.
He grinned.
The ranch was nearly four thousand acres of rolling hills, grassy valleys and some dry scrub patches. They passed several herds of cattle with huge horns. When Cal saw his wife staring at the first herd they passed, he explained.
“They’re Texas longhorns, bred for their strength and endurance. We used to drive them to the railhead in Kansas. Now, with the trains, we can ship them from Dallas.”
“Oh.”
She looked disappointed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I would have liked to go on one of those trail drives to Kansas.”
“How many of those trail drives do you think we went on where we experienced beautiful weather, no injuries, no sickness, no stampedes, no Indian attacks, no rustling?”
“Uh…”
“None.”
“Oh. But at least you must have felt a great deal of satisfaction when you reached the railhead.”
“Yes, and a great deal of relief.”
As they walked the horses side by side, she turned to him. “Tell me about the case you’re working on.”
He stiffened, hesitating for just a moment. “I can’t talk about it. Don’t ask.”
He doesn’t trust me after all. Intellectually, she recognized she was practically a stranger to him. It still hurt, though. She had shared her body and maybe even her soul with him and he didn’t trust her.
He thought about his wife as they rode on. Was she angry or hurt? He felt bad if that was the case, but he could not relent on this; he had to keep her safe. Lindy was too inquisitive for her own good, and he would bet his ranch she would try to get involved if he told her what he was up to. She was silent for quite a while and then seemed to get a second wind. She began exclaiming excitedly about different areas of the ranchland. He could sense a pent-up energy in her. It was as if she was bursting at the seams to experience everything she could, to live her life to the fullest. He admired that in her, yet felt a bit concerned that he would not be able to keep her on the ranch long enough to finish the bank job. In any case, after that he would rethink his dual existence. Perhaps it was time to concentrate solely on ranching.
* * *
By the time they returned to the stables, the sun was setting and an energy hummed between them. He told her to go up to the house while he took care of rubbing down the horses and feeding them, but Lindy wouldn’t hear of it.
“The first thing I learned on the farm. We take care of our own animals.”
Stubborn woman.
They were in the barn. He was about to unsaddle her horse when she gave him the evil eye and he backed away. He would need to add “feisty” to that list of qualities defining his new wife.
The couple took care of the horses in companionable silence and walked up to the house together. Though it was early, they both were tired. He needed to go over some paperwork, but decided it could wait until morning. It was his wedding night. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked at Lindy.
“Are you ready to…” He gestured toward the stairs.
She smiled. “Yes. Right after we go upstairs. I’ll race you!”
And she bolted up the stairs. He laughed and caught up to her in three strides, sweeping her into his arms as she giggled. Suddenly he knew what was missing from his life. It wasn’t just regular sex and companionship, although that was part of it. What was really missing was fun, something he hadn’t experienced since Jace’s murder. With Lindy’s help, maybe he could get back his joyful spirit.
They made love that night twice before Lindy fell asleep in her husband’s arms, and he woke her up in the middle of the night to complete the act again. The last thought she had before falling asleep once more was that her man was a beast. A passionate, caring beast.
When Lindy woke up next, it was morning, and Cal was gone. She was disappointed he had woken before her, as she had planned to make him a nice breakfast. It was thoughtful of him, however, to let her sleep. She picked up his pillow and held it to her face. It smelled like him, kind of woodsy and just all male. It was still warm, which meant he hadn’t been gone that long. She stretched like a cat and then hurriedly completed her ablutions, dressing in one of the day gowns she had traded Per for. This one was dark green with a cream-colored trim. She thought it made her eyes stand out.
She slipped into her tan shoes and hastened downstairs. She found a fresh pot of coffee on the stove as well as a covered plate in the warmer. Lifting the napkin over it, she found scrambled eggs and bacon. When she took it to the table, she also spied a small dish of watermelon squares. Cal had turned the tables on her; he had made breakfast for her. Am I the luckiest woman on earth? And then an unwelcome thought entered her head. You thought you were lucky with Cory, too. Remember how that turned out? And also remember, Cal doesn’t trust you.
The day turned out to be more eventful than the Irish farmer’s daughter could have imagined. After breakfast, she cleaned up the dishes and prepared several loaves of bread to rise. Then she set about to do the laundry. After removing the sheets from their bed, she gathered her soiled clothes and Cal’s and proceeded to launder them in a washtub she found out back. Once they were rinsed and rung out, she looked for a line to hang them for drying and found none. How did Cal dry his clean clothes? She realized he must have used a laundress who delivered the clean clothes to him.
Lindy’s well-used practical side took over. She walked down to the barn, where Joe helped her find a rope and string it up between the house and the privy. She hung the clothes on the house end of the rope so they wouldn’t pick up any unseemly odors. While the bread baked, she kept herself busy dusting, mopping floors and washing windows. She had just taken the bread out of the oven to cool when someone knocked on the front door. A visitor. She was pleased.
After untying her apron—she’d have to ask Cal who that belonged it, as it was too feminine to be his—and setting it on the counter, she headed for the door as the knock became more insistent. Suddenly she had another thought. What if it wasn’t a friendly visitor but danger at the door? She realized she did not feel totally safe with Cal gone. She knew she should always have a gun handy, just in case. It was a little late now, however, so she slowly opened the door, relieved to find two young women standing there. They obviously weren’t desperadoes.
Lindy smiled. “Hello.”
Both women were young, looking to be about her age, 20 or 21. One had blonde ringlets and sky-blue eyes, with rosy cheeks and a haughty lift to her chin. The other was plainer but not unattractive. Her brown hair fell in a long braid trailing down her back. She had brown eyes and a little birthmark on one cheek.
“We’re looking for Cal Bronson,” the blonde announced.
She wore a tight-fitting satiny yellow dress, not a ball gown but several notches above Lindy’s simple attire. The other young woman wore a more humble day dress in a flowered pattern that Lindy found a little too busy.
“He’s not here right now, but I expect him soon for the noon meal. Would you like to come in?”
Without answering, the blonde walked through the door and past Lindy, her companion following her. Could these two become her friends? While it wasn’t a great start to friendship, it would be nice to have female compatriots. Lindy directed the women to the front room, where a fire was dying down. The furniture included a dark red settee and two upholstered chairs in the same material. The women sat on the settee as Lindy added a log to the fire.
“Who are you?” the blonde asked.
She obviously was the ringleader of the two. And she was starting to annoy Lindy.
She looked over her shoulder. “Who are you?”
The blonde’s chin rose. “I am Bethany Joy Rensalaar. My father is Cortland Rensalaar. He’s the most important man in the Cattleman’s Association. We have the biggest ranch in three counties.”
The haughty woman looked like Lindy should know all that. She hadn’t a clue and was not particularly impressed. She glanced at the other young lady.
“Patty. Patty Mathers.”
“I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Lindy.” She felt a perverse pleasure in not letting them know she was Cal’s wife. “Is there something I can help you with? Would you like some coffee or lemonade?”
“Hmmph.”
The blonde again.
“Cal won’t need a housekeeper when we’re married.”
Lindy looked at Patty, who looked rather surprised, and back a
t Bethany.
“Oh, you’re Cal’s betrothed?” Now she was starting to have fun.
“Yes. Now get us some lemonade. And be quick about it.”
What a piece of work. She knew Cal would not tie himself to this rude creature. She rose. “I’ll be right back with those refreshments.” She heard Patty and Bethany whispering fiercely as she left the room. Cal obviously must have had some relationship with the little viper. That betrothal lie didn’t come out of nowhere. She shouldn’t feel insecure about it—of course he had a past, and he was not a monk—but she had to admit it was a struggle not to fall into the old betrayal frame of mind. She poured three glasses of lemonade and was carrying them back to the front room when Cal walked in the door and stopped dead in his tracks. He looked from Lindy to the young women and back to Lindy.
“Cal,” Bethany gushed.
She jumped up and threw herself into his arms. He was so shocked he held her for a moment before pushing her away. He couldn’t look at Lindy, afraid of the disgust or anger or betrayal he would see in her eyes. Finally he braved a peek at her. That couldn’t be amusement in her expression, could it?”
Lindy handed the women their lemonade and Bethany sat back down.
Cal didn’t claim he understood women. “Bethany, what are you doing here?”
Bethany stared at Lindy. “You can go now.”
Cal looked at his wife, who sat primly in one of the chairs. “Hello, Cal. I was just getting to know your fiancée, Bethany.”
“And you should not be so familiar, using Mr. Bronson’s first name,” Bethany spat out.
Lindy smiled and raised her eyebrows as her eyes held Cal’s. He appeared stunned. Before he had a chance to say anything, Bethany indicated Lindy with a tilt of her head.
“Don’t you think we should talk in private?”
“What would we have to talk about? We went out to dinner twice, six months ago.” And that second date, when she belittled the waiter because he forgot a spoon, ended it for him.
