Her Wyoming Man Read online

  “Oh. Thank you,” Ella said, caught by surprise.

  “We have a choral group who sing for special occasions, and we’d love to have you come join our rehearsal this week. Thursday afternoon at two right here. After ward, we go over to Minnie Oliver’s for tea.”

  “Well.” Ella had never sung, other than humming notes to learn a musical piece on the piano, and she’d never taken afternoon tea, but apparently these were the pastimes of the women of Sweetwater. She glanced at Nathan to find him observing her uncomfortable exchange. She raised an eyebrow in question. Was Betsy Iverson’s invitation an acceptable event?

  “It sounds like a good way to become acquainted with the ladies, and it’s a pleasant afternoon diversion,” he said, coming to her rescue.

  She nodded. “All right then.” She glanced back at Betsy. “Thank you. I’d love to join your gathering.”

  “Lovely. We’ll look forward to getting to know you.”

  Nathan nodded approvingly.

  Ella kept the smile on her face, despite all the assessing looks she received. Celeste emerged from the crowd, her new husband beside her. Ella wondered if her own expression was every bit as stupefied as Celeste’s after the morning’s events. She tried to keep her grasp on Celeste’s hand from breaking any bones, but she was so glad to see her, she didn’t want to let go.

  “What a morning,” Celeste said. “But church was nice, wasn’t it?”

  “Very,” she replied, glancing at a stranger studying her over Celeste’s shoulder.

  “Come call on Celeste anytime,” Paul Adams said from beside her. “She’d like your company.”

  “I will,” Ella promised. She released Celeste’s hand, and the couple moved toward the open doors.

  “Will you take Grace’s hand, please?” Nathan asked. “She barely comes up to the belt buckles in this crowd.”

  Ella turned readily and reached for Grace. Once out of doors, he guided Ella up to the buggy, and then held Robby up to her.

  She fumbled with the child’s sagging weight for a moment, arranging him on her lap and cradling his head against her breast. “This little fellow is surprisingly heavy.”

  Christopher and Grace settled themselves on the rear seat, and Nathan led the team toward his home.

  Ella had been too distracted the evening before to notice the even brick streets they traveled or the neighborhood Nathan led them to. Most of the homes were more modest than Nathan’s, but a few were equally as impressive. All were well-kept and painted in attractive colors or fresh white, with gardens and hedges and trees established. It was a far cry from Dodge City with its dusty streets and rows of saloons.

  She’d known, of course, that Mrs. Fairchild’s establishment had been a polished diamond among rough stones and that the clientele were businessmen living in Kansas purely for the monetary gain of the burgeoning cattle business, but never had it been as apparent as today.

  “As soon as we’ve changed clothing, we’ll set out our meal,” Nathan said to her. “Afterward the children will take naps, and you and I will have a few hours together.”

  With a smile, she nodded.

  As planned, they met in the kitchen after changing clothes. The children scrambled onto chairs to await their lunch, and Nathan glanced at her skirt and blouse. “Did you bring any aprons?”

  She shook her head.

  “Let’s borrow one of Charlotte’s.” He found a faded apron in a drawer and unfolded it for her.

  She slipped the bib over her head and wrapped the ties around her waist. Nathan stepped behind her, took the sashes from her hands, their fingers brushing, and tied it. He smelled good, like a blend of sandalwood and bay rum. From behind, he placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned forward where she could look up and meet his gaze. They stood like that for a moment, until Ella let her focus drop to his lips.

  He released her and glanced at a note propped against the sugar bowl on a lower open shelf. “It seems we have a casserole to remove from the oven and bread to slice.”

  “I can slice bread,” she offered.

  He set the table and they shared an informal dinner right there at the kitchen table. “Robby will sleep through this meal and wake famished,” Nathan told her.

  “I’ll save a plate of food for him,” she offered.

  “Jimmy Evans thinks you’re going to be our mama,” Christopher said.

  Nathan laid down his fork.

  Ella did the same. “Is Jimmy a friend of yours?”

  Christopher shrugged. “He’s a little bit of a friend.”

  “Do you want me to be your mother?” she asked.

  Nathan appeared surprised by her question. Grace just blinked from one person to the next and chewed.

  “I dunno,” he replied with a shrug. “Richard Crandall’s mama yells at him a lot, and she doesn’t let him stay to play ball ’cause she says he has to do chores.”

  “I assure you I won’t be yelling at you,” she told him. She glanced at Nathan. “Does he have any chores?”

  Nathan shook his head before locking his gaze on his son. “I’ve been thinking this will be the year that you help shovel the front walk and the area in front of the stable doors, though. You’re getting to be a big strong boy.”

  “Shoveling snow will be fun!” he said.

  “Most people don’t get to choose their mothers or their children,” Nathan pointed out. “You and Ella are able to choose if you want to be mother and son. No one is going to make you call her mother or love her. That’s up to you.”

  His words tugged at Ella’s heart. She still hadn’t figured out how to be a wife. How was she supposed to know how to be a mother, too?

  “But you must be respectful and kind,” he added. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Christopher finished his bread and butter unconcernedly. “May I read before nap time?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Nathan replied. “As long as you’re quiet and don’t disturb your sister or brother.”

  Nathan asked Ella to accompany them, then wiped Grace’s face and hands and carried her up the stairs. She clung to his neck and stared over his shoulder as Ella followed. Ella had yet to hear her utter a word.

  The children’s room was long, with wooden shutters that closed over the inside of the windows. Nathan pulled them shut now, all except for the single panel he left slanted open near Christopher’s bed. The boy removed his shoes, selected a book, and made himself comfortable.

  Nathan took off Grace’s tiny boots and tucked her under her covers. She stretched both arms toward him, and he bent over her bed to share a hug. “Rest well, buttercup.”

  She closed her eyes.

  He moved to adjust the covers around Robby in another small bed, and then they slipped from the room, Nathan closing the door firmly.

  “What would you like to do?” he asked.

  She thought a moment. “Do you have a piano?”

  He shook his head.

  “Never mind then. I thought I could play for you.”

  “I should have an instrument so the children can learn,” he said.

  “I could teach them,” she suggested brightly.

  “That would be nice.”

  “I have a phonograph in one of the crates that came from the train depot. We could listen to the cylinders.”

  He nodded. “Those crates are on the sunporch. Let’s go find your phonograph, and I’ll carry it to the sitting room.”

  The spacious area he called a sunporch was an enclosed room on the back of the house with two walls of windows, one of which overlooked a gentle slope leading to a stream, easily identified by the strip of wooded area that wound across the landscape with the flow of the water.

  “What a lovely place to live.” Her breath caught. She hadn’t meant to sound so emotional.

  “When I selected this site, Sweetwater was still a row of tents and clapboard stores,” he said while moving crates. She turned to look at him. He had rolled back his sleeves over corded
forearms with a dusting of dark hair. “I had my heart set on building a house here. Raising a family.” He paused to gaze out over the countryside. “Life takes unpredictable twists.”

  He meant his wife’s death, obviously. Ella moved to the simple screen door that opened onto the yard. All she had to do was open that door and walk outside. No one would stop her.

  She tested her freedom by flipping up the flimsy hook that held the door shut. She turned to look behind her and confirm that the door that led from the house to the porch was the one that locked for safety purposes.

  “Something wrong?”

  She shook her head.

  “Even if someone broke that hook and eye and came into the porch, they couldn’t get in the house,” he assured her.

  “I see that. I was just thinking how easy it would be to walk outside and wander down by those trees along the stream.”

  “That’s why I keep the door hooked,” he said. “Grace and Robby can’t reach it. Christopher knows enough to stay away from the water.”

  Of course he thought of the children’s safety. She thought only of the lack of restrictions. “I can walk out there anytime I like.”

  “Yes, of course,” he replied. “Use wisdom, of course.”

  He found the phonograph and removed it from the crate. “I can set it up right out here, if you prefer.”

  She hadn’t moved from the doorway. She turned and looked at him. “I’d like that very much.”

  He cleared a space on a table and positioned the phonograph. “I saw these at the exposition last summer and thought about getting one. Did you find this in Illinois?”

  “I ordered it from a catalog.” Ella located the cardboard tubes that held her Edison wax cylinders, placed one of them on the mandrel and wound the machine.

  A tinny waltz emanated from the sound machine.

  Nathan watched his beautiful new wife as she listened to the music and let her gaze drift back to the green landscape. She stood at the screen door, her slender form in the pale yellow blouse silhouetted by the afternoon sun turning the grass and trees to vivid shades of green. She was an exquisite vision of perfection and femininity, her clear blue eyes alight with the pleasure and vitality of life. He thought of asking her to dance, but thought better of the idea.

  Her exotic cinnamon and musk scent teased his senses. And when he looked at her mouth…he wanted to kiss her…kiss her until they were both puddles of hopeless need and blistering desire. But he knew better. The last thing he wanted was to see the sparkle fade from her eyes and the light of discovery and expectation leave her expression. Reality did that to a woman.

  The music wound to a halt, the drone of an insect on a screen the only remaining sound. She turned and met his gaze. His heart surged up into his throat and threatened to stop for good.

  Chapter Six

  He’d only known her for a week, and already she created havoc with his common sense. She reminded him of a butterfly newly emerged from its cocoon, testing her wings on the breeze.

  She smiled and his breath hitched in his chest. He was a fool. “Let’s walk down by the stream,” he suggested, knowing the idea would appeal to her.

  She agreed, as he’d known she would and he led her out of doors, where he took her hand and they strolled across the grass. Her fingers were slim and delicate. He turned over her palm to study the soft pink skin. She was unaccustomed to work.

  She gazed up at him, those blue eyes innocent and trusting. She had placed all her hopes and dreams in his care. Her happiness was a weighty responsibility…one he feared…one he treasured…but a duty he coveted.

  They neared the bank of the stream, and she cast her attention to the gently moving water. “Look,” she said, releasing his hand to inch closer. “It’s so clear you can see the stones beneath the surface.”

  “This is why the town was named Sweetwater,” he told her.

  “Oh, my!” she said excitedly. “See the little fish darting here and there?”

  He nodded, but cared only to observe her delighted expression. She reminded him of his children on Christmas morning, their eyes aglow with wonder and excitement. All he’d done was walk her across his lawn, but she behaved as though he’d taken her on a grand adventure.

  “Have you never seen fish before?” he asked.

  “Only on a plate with lemon sauce,” she replied. “A much larger variety, for certain.”

  He chuckled and she shot her gaze to his. “Where have you been, Ella, that you’ve never seen a fish?”

  She turned away without reply, her gaze once again on the shimmering water. “I’ve been in a place much different from this.”

  “I meant no insult.”

  “None taken.”

  A few minutes passed, the sound of the gurgling water a pleasant backdrop to his thoughts. “You can take off your shoes and walk in the water, if it pleases you.”

  Taken by surprise at his suggestion, Ella glanced up at him. “Wouldn’t that be unladylike?”

  “Even if it was, there’s no one here but the two of us.”

  “I don’t know,” she hedged.

  “I’ll join you.”

  “You?” She had trouble picturing it.

  He sat and removed his boots, then tugged off his socks and rolled up his trouser legs, revealing long feet and corded ankles sprinkled with dark hair. He stood and waded out into the water. “The stones are smooth underfoot. It’s safe.”

  Ella watched him, intrigued by the sparkle of the sun on the water and his feet rippling under the surface. She sat and removed her shoes, then hiked up her skirt and petticoat to roll down her stocking.

  He stood planted in the stream, his dark gaze taking in her every move.

  Ella tossed the stocking aside and reached to roll down the other, more slowly this time. He was definitely interested. She smiled to herself. Feet bare, she recognized the fascinatingly cool tickle of the grass under her soles. She stood, gathered the hem of her skirt above her knees and made her way to the edge of the water.

  She walked in, the same as he had, shocked by the frigid temperature of the water. Chills ran up both legs and she sucked in a surprised breath. “It’s cold!”

  He laughed. “Did I forget to mention that?”

  “You most certainly forgot to mention that.” The stones were smooth, a little bit slippery, and the water was a brisk, yet gently lapping current against her calves. She loved the sensation, as well as the warm sun on her face…and the expression of the man watching her.

  Something tickled her ankle, and she glanced down to discover a swarm of miniature fish.

  “Oh!” She gasped in surprise and jumped to put all her weight on one foot and raise the other out of the water. While she teetered on a single foot, the fish promptly gathered around the remaining ankle. She leaped to the other foot, dropping her hem in the process and then grabbing it up, dripping wet, and raising it even higher than before. “The fish are biting me!”

  Laughing, Nathan waded toward her, and she lunged for him, attempting to leap right up into his arms out of the water and away from the mysterious creatures.

  He lost his balance and staggered to one side, grabbing her behind the knees and lifting her against his chest, while laboring to regain his footing.

  He almost stabilized himself, but lost his balance, and a foot shot out from under him, plummeting them both into the stream.

  The water here wasn’t deep, but it was cold, and immediately soaked through Ella’s clothing to her skin and turned her backside to ice. Nathan’s sharp intake of breath revealed his shock, as well, but he sputtered and laughed.

  Ella floundered to lunge her weight forward and stand, but her foot caught on the hem of her skirt and she plopped back into the water, this time splashing her face and hair and soaking a good portion of her blouse.

  Now that she was caught in her wet skirts, Nathan laughed all the harder, helpless to do anything to aid her or himself. The hair plastered to his forehead dripped water
, and his wet shirt molded to his chest. His teeth were white and even, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in merriment.

  Ella had a fleeting image of him dressed formally the night they’d met and wondered what all those people at the party would think of their city attorney at this moment. His hearty laughter was contagious.

  An unfamiliar pleasure rose up inside her and spilled over in a burst. She heard the sound, but couldn’t reconcile it as coming from her. A full thirty seconds passed…a minute…yes, she was laughing. Laughing for all she was worth.

  Almost frightened at the oddity, she caught herself and clapped a hand over her mouth.

  Nathan’s laughter faded, and his smile waned, his gaze dropping to her hand over her mouth, then her wet clothing.

  She let her hand drop to her side and stared at him breathing hard, his eyes growing darker and his expression changing. A quick glance showed that her thin wet blouse had become transparent, and the icy water had done more than give her shivers.

  Without thinking about the consequences, she sprang forward and took his face between her hands. She had only a second to register his startled expression before she covered his lips with hers and kissed him without restraint.

  Chapter Seven

  Everything about her new life was awkward and unfamiliar. She felt decidedly lost and inept. She couldn’t cry. But she could find a recognizable foothold and cling to it for her security.

  His mouth was warm and his arms radiated heat when they wrapped around her, the temperature a welcome contrast to the icy water and the icy cold seeping through her clothing. The enchanting pressure of his eager lips took her by surprise.

  Against her fingertips his damp jaw was smoothly shaven, slick and warm. A startling flutter took up a beat in her stomach and spread to her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  She wanted to press closer, become a part of him and never lose this incredible new sense of security and feeble hope.

  Nathan eased his lips from hers. He studied her eyes for a fleeting moment. “You’re shivering.”