The Rancher Takes a Bride

by Sylvia McDaniel

  The sound of a wagon pulling into the yard and the bark of the dogs alerted her that someone was coming. She glanced out the kitchen window at the wagon being pulled down the drive by two chestnut horses. Eugenia was returning. Rose let out a sigh of both relief and regret.

  She'd wanted one last chance to be alone with Travis, one last chance to clear the air, before his mother came back. Before Eugenia became their chaperone once again. But that wasn't meant to be.

  Tucker drove the wagon, his own horse tied to the back.

  "Cookie," Rose called. "Tucker has brought Eugenia home. Set two extra places for dinner, please." Not that she had expected Travis to come home and eat with her. She'd taken her meals alone these last few days.

  Rose smoothed her new skirt, opened the door, and stepped out onto the porch, watching as Eugenia and Tucker rode up. She waved a greeting, but felt nervous about seeing them again. Could they tell that she was different? Would they question where Travis was?

  Rose had no idea what part of the ranch he was working on today, and when his mother asked, Rose was tempted to tell Eugenia the truth. Her son was a big louse who couldn't even say hello to the woman he had bedded. But she knew she wouldn't. She could never tell Eugenia about that morning at the pond.

  The wagon rolled to a stop, and only then did Rose see Travis walking into the yard, his horse limping along behind him. Even from the house she could see the scowl on his face. His hat was pulled low, and he walked with a determined stride that she'd only seen when he was angry.

  The dark bay horse limped behind him as Travis tugged at him with the reins.

  The wagon pulled to a stop and Eugenia called, "Rose, dear, hello!"

  She waved. "Welcome back."

  Tucker smiled at Rose and nodded his head. He set the brake on the wagon and then climbed down and went around to help his mother. Once Eugenia was out of the wagon, she walked up the steps of the porch and gave Rose a hug.

  "It feels so good to be home."

  "I'm glad you're here. How is your friend?"

  "Oh, she's going to be fine." Eugenia glanced around. "Where's Travis?"

  A nervous laugh escaped Rose, and she pointed off in the direction Eugenia had just traveled. Eugenia turned and sighed.

  "Oh, dear, his horse must have thrown a shoe or gotten a stone bruise. Tucker, see about helping your brother."

  Tucker glanced up from unloading the wagon and, seeing his brother, laughed. "Looks like he's got troubles. As soon as I unload this stuff, I'll help him."

  Eugenia patted Rose on the arm and then turned her toward the house. "So tell me, how are things here? Any problems? Did Travis treat you right while I was gone?"

  Rose almost choked, but managed to control herself at the last second. "I . . . Travis treated me fine. Cook was sick one day, though."

  "Oh, dear, he had too much to drink the night before, didn't he?"

  "He was sick. I didn't question him."

  Rose felt so awkward. Somewhere on her face must be written that she'd given Travis her virginity while Eugenia was away. The woman's staring only increased Rose's own discomfort.

  "I ... I watered your flowers while you were gone and dusted the main room."

  "Why, thank you, dear."

  Eugenia stepped back and stared at Rose.

  Oh, my God, she could tell. Rose had checked herself repeatedly in the mirror, and nowhere could she find anything on the outside that showed the changes that one morning with Travis had wrought. But on the inside, she knew she was different. She felt older, sad, and disheartened by the way Travis ignored her. That he had treated their time together so lightly angered her beyond comprehension.

  "What's wrong?" Rose asked, afraid of the answer.

  Eugenia glanced at her, a quizzical look on her face. "Nothing. I was just noticing how nice that dress looks on you."

  "Oh."

  Rose inwardly cringed. The dress that Eugenia had lent her would never be the same. She could never return that dress spotted with mud, stained with her virgin's blood.

  The sound of boots striking against wood had her glancing up into Travis's brown eyes. Her heart lurched at the sight of him, hot and scowling from beneath his hat.

  "Hello, Mother," he said, hugging the older woman to his side as he stepped onto the porch.

  "What happened to your horse?"

  "Stone bruise, nothing serious. She needs some rest." He took off his hat. "How was your stay in town?"

  "Nice." Eugenia glanced between the two of them. "How about the two of you? Everything all right while I was gone?"

  Rose felt blood rush into her face. She gave a quick glance at Travis, feeling that anyone could tell from the expression on her face what had transpired between them. Eugenia must know.

  "Fine." Travis's voice was gruff and to the point. "Everything went fine."

  Tucker stepped from inside the house. He reached out and shook Travis hand. "I brought Mother back to you. I thought by now you'd be ready for her return."

  Travis nodded his head, but didn't say anything.

  Tucker glanced over at Rose, a grin on his face, and she twisted her hands nervously. "So you two didn't kill each other while Mother was away. Well that's a start. I really wasn't looking forward to arresting my own brother."

  Travis cleared his throat and glared at Tucker.

  "But then again, maybe this was a good time for the two of you to sort of clear the air. Settle your differences and—"

  "We did fine," Travis interrupted.

  Eugenia grabbed Rose by the hand. "Oh my, I almost forgot." She took Rose by the hand and led her to a swing on the front porch and sat down beside Rose. "You got the part, dear. They want you to play Bianca in The Taming of the Shrew."

  Rose looked at her stunned. "What? I got the part?" She stared at Eugenia, who nodded yes. "Oh, my God. I got the part."

  She squealed with delight. "My first acting job!"

  "What part?" Travis asked. "How could you get that part? You never auditioned."

  Eugenia scowled at her oldest son. "Rose is going to be in The Taming of the Shrew."

  "I told her she couldn't audition for that part. I specifically said I didn't want her around those people."

  Rose glanced at Travis. "You're not stopping me."

  Cookie stepped out onto the porch. "If anyone's interested, dinner's ready."

  They stared at one another, and Rose felt as though an invisible line had been drawn on the porch. They were facing off like gunfighters. The first one who said anything would fire the first shot. She waited, patient, expectant. After the last few days, she was ready to do battle. She was more than ready to put Travis in his place.

  Eugenia glanced between them, then patted Rose on the knee. "Dinner's ready. We can discuss this later."

  "We'll certainly discuss it later," Travis snapped.

  With a scowl on his face, he walked over to the door and yanked the wooden portal open. He motioned with his hand and said, "After you."

  Eugenia stood and Rose followed as they strode into the house. As she passed Travis, she glanced into his eyes. A glint of anger and something else shone from his brown eyes, and she couldn't help but give him a little half smile, along with a mocking glance that she hoped relayed to him that she would not back down. She would take this part.

  Eugenia sat down at the table, and Tucker took the seat across from his mother, leaving Travis little choice but to sit across from Rose. She glanced at Tucker and met his smiling gaze. The man knew exactly what he'd done.

  Travis pulled out the chair across from Rose, but refused to look at her. There was nothing worse than a tense meal.

  Rose sighed. She refused to let Travis get the upper hand. So she had given him her virginity, and since that time he had avoided her. She was not going to let him make her miserable. She had more pride than to let him think that she would mope and pout because of his lack of attention. She would take this part, earn enough money to leave, and find her own place in
town once again. She and Isaiah would soon be gone, wedding band or not; she was not going to be confined any longer for something she had not taken.

  "Tucker, how are things at the jail?" Rose asked, a pleasant lilt to her voice. She was determined to show Travis she was okay.

  "Other than arresting a few drunks and settling a bar room fight, things have been rather quiet. Nothing like when I first took this job," he replied, smiling at her.

  Cook brought the food in and set it on the table. The smell of steaks wafted through the air.

  "Anything happen while I was away?" Eugenia asked, glancing between Travis and Rose.

  Rose thought she would choke on the greens she had just spooned into her mouth. She glanced at Travis, and his eyes met hers. For a moment the memory of his hands caressing her body made her heart somersault, but then the reality of the situation hit her like a bucket of cold water.

  They both tried to speak at once, their eyes locking in silent combat. Travis spoke up finally. "Nothing happened, Mother. I have the men still rounding up the cattle. With the newborn calves we have this year, we should have a very productive year."

  Eugenia nodded her head, glanced down at her plate, and asked, "So what did the two of you do while I was away?"

  Rose swallowed and knew she couldn't look at Travis this time or her face would give away exactly what they had done. She gazed at the food on her plate.

  "I found the Complete Works of William Shakespeare on the bookshelf, so I spent most of my time reading."

  Eugenia glanced at Rose. "I'd forgotten all about that book. Did it help you?"

  "Yes, I think so. At least now I have an idea of what this play is about."

  Travis laughed. "I hope you got the part of the shrew?"

  Rose glared at him. "No. I'm Bianca, the beautiful sister everyone wants."

  Travis glanced at her, his brows lifted. "Why not Desirée, the fortune teller, séance holder, all-time con artist?"

  Anger, as fierce as a hot fire, spread through her, and she swallowed, trying to calm her rapid pulse. Her first response had been to lash out at Travis, but she refrained.

  She smiled. "Shakespeare didn't know Desirée, or he might have included her in one of his dramas."

  Tucker burst out laughing, his laughter contagious as it spread around the table to Eugenia. Rose simply smiled at Travis as she met his glare of indignation.

  He jumped up from the table, reached over, and grabbed her by the arm. "Come on, we're going to settle this right now."

  Rose pushed back from the table and turned to Eugenia and Tucker. "Excuse us, we have a problem to take care of."

  As they were leaving the room, Rose heard Tucker say, "Nothing's changed." But it had.

  ***

  Travis didn't know if he was more upset about the fact that he had taken her innocence or that she had lied to him and disregarded his directive that she not try out for this play.

  All he knew was that since that day at the pond, he had been confused. All he could think about was that he had taken her virginity, her innocence. Though he'd never thought of her as untried before that morning, he was the man who had shown her how it could be between a man and a woman.

  Yet a tiny voice kept asking if he would have believed her even if she'd tried to tell him of her innocence.

  He had a tight grip on her forearm as he dragged her out of the kitchen, down the steps, and around the back of the house.

  "Where are we going? Back to the pond?" she asked, her voice taunting.

  Travis ignored her. She knew he couldn't take her to the pond. That place held too many memories that constantly nagged him. He didn't need any additional ones to get in his way.

  They walked past the trellis, where a rose petal drifted on the wind. Hell, he couldn't talk to her here either, without remembering the night she'd tried to escape down the lattice.

  He continued walking, past the burned-out barn, the memory of seeing her in that burning building still a frightening image.

  The last few days had been hell. Everywhere he turned, there was Rose, a memory of Rose, a glimpse of Rose, or a thought of Rose. Until he thought he was going to go stark, raving mad.

  The woman filled his mind, his senses, even his sleep, and he didn't know what to do about her. There was only one thing he wanted to do with her, and he couldn't.

  He strolled past the barn, past the bunkhouse, and out into the pasture before he felt they were far enough away from prying ears and away from memories that would haunt him.

  He released his grip and stared at her. "I told you no, you could not be in that play. How did you get this part?"

  "I tried out like everyone else," she smugly replied.

  "You haven't been out of my sight, except for that short amount of time at the dress shop," he insisted.

  She smiled.

  "My mother helped you?" he questioned in disbelief.

  "Don't start blaming Eugenia. I talked her into helping me once we were in town. I've waited my entire life for a chance like this, and you were not about to stop me."

  He grabbed her arm again and pulled her up against him. It was a mistake; he should never have touched her, brought her so close, smelled the lavender in her hair, gazed into emerald eyes that made him burn with unbridled desire.

  He'd tasted the little gypsy woman once. Once was all he needed to purge her from his system. Once had satisfied him for all time.

  Hell! Who was he kidding? Once had only whetted his appetite for more. He wanted to throw her on the ground right now and have his way with her.

  But he couldn't touch her again. To touch her again would only cause him even more guilt, and he was suffering enough.

  "You know I don't want you doing this."

  "Why? What difference does it make to you?"

  "I ... You're under house arrest. I'll have you thrown in jail."

  She rolled her eyes. "Go ahead, cowboy, arrest me. Put me in jail and I promise I'll tell your mother what happened between us," she said, her voice low.

  She meant every word. He knew, with a certainty he found almost frightening, that she would tell Eugenia about their tryst. Yet he didn't want her out of his sight.

  He took a step back, along with a deep breath that he slowly released. He glanced up at the sky and the white cumulus clouds drifting by.

  He'd been holding her hostage, and while she was in his care, he'd had a moment of weakness. He felt lower than a snake and meaner than a rattier. He owed her. But to pay her money would be insulting, and he didn't know quite how to handle this situation. So instead he gave her what she wanted. He glanced back at her, his eyes holding her gaze.

  "Okay, you've got your part in the play. But I don't want you going into town alone. Every day one of the men will drive you, and every night you'll come back to the Bar None. You'll be escorted at all times by one of my men."

  She threw her arms around him, giving him a spontaneous hug that almost completely undid him. What would it be like to receive impulsive affection from Rose every day of his life?

  Suddenly she realized whom she was hugging and she released him, and then took a step back.

  Her chin lifted and she glanced up at him. "I'd say thank you, but then again, who are you to tell me what I can and can't do? I'm warning you, cowboy, back off or you're going to get burned."

  With that announcement, she turned and practically skipped back toward the house.

  Travis scuffed his boot in the dirt, wanting to kick something, anything, to ease this frustration. She was not the perfect woman he was looking for. Yet how could he want her so badly, knowing it was imperfect, yet still hunger for her embrace?

  ***

  Several days later, Rose stepped onto the stage, cleared her throat, and tried her best to relax. She had waited and wanted this day for years, and now, when it was upon her, she only felt anxiety. Pure fear pulsed through her. And to make matters worse, the stage seemed large and bare, making her feel vulnerable.

 
; "Okay, let's all find our marks and read the scene one more time," yelled the director.

  She picked up her handwritten script, found her mark, and waited for her cue. It was so important that she prove herself capable and worthy of being in this play. Not only to herself, but also to others.

  She was Rosalyn Severin's daughter, and she must do well, even if for no other reason than to honor her mother.

  "Miss Severin, are you with us?" the director yelled.

  Rose glanced up, coming out of her daydream. "Yes, sir."

  "Then please read your lines."

  Rose took a deep breath. "Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself, To make a bondmaid and a slave of me; That I disdain: but for these other gawds, Unbind my hands, I'll pull them off myself, Yea all my raiment, to my petticoat, Or what you will command me will I do. So well I know my duty to my elders. "

  The actress who was playing Katharina said her lines, and then once again it was Rose's turn. She repeated her lines, and then Katharina was to pretend to slap her. But the actress's hand connected with Rose's cheek, leaving her stunned.

  "Sorry, guess I missed my mark," the woman replied.

  A few snickers could be heard around the stage. At first Rose was shocked the woman had actually hit her. Then the director started yelling at her, waving his arms. "You're supposed to run off the stage."

  Still holding her bruised cheek, she ran across the stage and behind the curtains. For a moment the urge to continue running was strong, but she shook her head in denial. It would take more than the leading lady's jealous behavior to run Rose off.

  Several hours later, Rose felt as if her cheek was bruised from being slapped, her voice was scratchy, and her legs were aching. But her first rehearsal had gone relatively well, with the director only yelling at her twice.

  Isaiah brought the wagon around to the front of the makeshift theater, and she crawled in, her feet aching and her body tired. Bart, the man Travis had insisted ride along with her, climbed in the back of the wagon.

  Rose ignored the man, just as she'd pretended all day he wasn't there.

  "Good even', Miss Rose," Isaiah said, looking her over. "How did your first rehearsal go?"

  Rose sat down wearily in the wagon and glanced over at the older man. "All right, I guess. But I am tired."