“Yes, my niece and nephews always insist on having Aunt Claire’s cookies.” She smiled wryly and leaned into him. “Don’t tell Alex I didn’t handpick every potato myself. I’ll never hear the end of it. But it sure was nice not having to spend hours at the grocery store deciphering the list she sent.”
“Sometimes it’s nice having someone else do the grunt work, isn’t it?” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s go for a ride.”
She looked up at him in surprise. “I thought we came a day early to get the house ready.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “How much more ready can it be? All we have to do is unpack, and we can do that tonight. You’ve been working too hard lately. I wanted you to have a day to relax before your family gets here.” His lips touched hers gently. “And I wanted some time alone with you. We haven’t been alone without computers or tax files between us since Las Vegas.”
She frowned. “I could’ve used the time at the office. I still haven’t—”
“No. I’m not going to work this weekend, and neither are you. Your family is going to take all our concentration.”
She sighed. “You’re right about that. And I do love to ride. That’s what I miss most about the Garden.”
He kissed her again. “Come on, then. I’ve got a beautiful red mare that’s perfect for you.”
Claire pulled the brush down the reddish-brown coat on Scarlet’s withers. Some people scorned the simple act of currying a horse, preferring to let the hands do it. But she’d never minded the work. After the mare had given her such pleasure, keeping up with Jake’s gelding, stride for stride, as they’d raced across the rolling grassland, the least Claire could do was give the horse something in return.
As if sensing her thoughts, Scarlet swung her nose around and gently nudged Claire’s arm. With a chuckle, she rubbed the velvet nose. “You like this, don’t you? I don’t blame you. I’ve recently learned that being stroked can be a very pleasant experience.”
Scarlet blew softly and returned to her oats.
A few minutes later a raspy voice exclaimed, “Miz Anderson, you shouldn’t be messing your pretty hands up doing this. I’m gonna blister Cody’s ears for letting you—”
“No, Ray, it’s not his fault,” Claire assured him. “In fact, I made him go away. I’ve been rubbing down my horses since I was a little girl. I’m not going to stop now.”
The ranch foreman flashed an approving look, then watched as she brushed the mare’s coat. “Looks like you know your way around a horse.”
She smiled at him. “I grew up on a ranch. I’ve been riding since I could walk.”
Ray leaned against the stall door and pushed his hat back. “Well, the Lord works in mysterious ways. Yes sir, he surely does.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The missus and me been talking the last couple of years about how Jake needs him a good wife. By that I mean a ranch wife.”
Claire bent to brush Scarlet’s flank so she could hide her frown. She had to bite her tongue to keep from telling Ray that she was definitely not a ranch wife, that she was director of accounting at Pawnee Investments. But she and Jake agreed they needed to practice their “in love” routine on the hands.
She lowered her voice, though she knew Jake couldn’t hear since he was six stalls away rubbing down his own horse. “Thanks, Ray. Coming from you, I know that’s a compliment.”
“It sure as hell is, Miz Anderson. Truth tell, I’m right proud he picked you out. Shows he’s still got good horse sense. I was beginning to doubt it.” A smile cracked the sun-browned leathered face. “I think you’ll make him happy. I can already see he thinks the world of you, and I reckon you return his sentiments.”
So, Jake’s acting was good enough to fool the hands. She just hoped it’d fool her family. She gave the foreman a wry smile. “Yes, I reckon I do. And please call me Claire.”
He nodded in approval. “Jake’s needed someone like you since he was a tot.”
“You’ve known him that long?”
“Yep. I’ve been a hand on the Bar Hanging Seven since before his momma died. Saddest thing I ever did see, how old Eli turned away from his son when Miz Molly passed on.”
Claire’s brush stopped in mid-stroke. “What do you mean?”
“Mr. Eli was a hard man anyways, but when his wife died he turned right into stone. As hard as any of them Rocky Mountains, and as cold as Pike’s Peak in mid-January. He was harder on his son than any of us hands. And if he saw any of the hands being soft on the boy, he’d fire ’em on the spot.”
A strong fist suddenly squeezed Claire’s heart painfully. “Why would he do that?”
“Only the Good Lord knows. Miz Molly died when Jake was three or so. Got the pneumonia and couldn’t shuck it Mr. Eli just withered up after she passed. Couldn’t nobody get through to him. He put away all the pictures of her. Didn’t never mention her name that I heard tell of. It was like he didn’t want to be reminded she ever lived.”
“And Jake’s very existence reminded him day after day,” Claire said sadly.
“Yep. I reckon it did. He’s the spittin’ image of his momma.” Ray cleared his throat. “Anyways, that’s all behind him now he’s got you. Maybe he’ll spend a little more time here at the ranch.”
Claire tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat, but it came bobbing right back up. Poor Jake. Poor little boy. How could a father do that to his own son?
Suddenly she understood what she was up against. Jake didn’t believe in love because he didn’t know what love was. Since his mother died, no one had loved him—not with the unconditional, unwavering, forever kind of love of a parent, or a sibling...or a child.
No wonder the man jumped at the chance when he found a woman with a desperate need to get pregnant. He wanted the chance to do it right, to give himself the father-child relationship his father wouldn’t give him.
Her hand fell to her stomach. He would probably have that chance sooner than he expected. She was ninety-nine percent certain she was pregnant. She was three days late, and she was never late.
As if their talk had conjured him, Jake appeared at the door to the stall. “You about done? I’ve got a hankering for chocolate chip cookies.”
Claire walked into his arms. Her eyes stung with tears—with sorrow for the pain he suffered as a boy; and with happiness that she could give him what he needed most.
Jake folded his arms around her without hesitation. “What’s wrong? Did you forget the chips?”
She shook her head, unable to answer without her voice cracking.
Heaven help her. She needed heaven’s help more than ever before, if she was going to make Jake love her, because he didn’t know how to love. Did she know enough about it to teach him? Could he learn? Was it possible? He was thirty-two years old, used to having his own way.
The only way a woman can easily change a man is when he’s in diapers.
Alex’s words haunted Claire. Claire thought about the son or daughter growing deep inside her. What would she do if she failed? What if Jake couldn’t learn how to love? The honeymoon hormones would wear off eventually. Where would they be then? Would Jake push her aside as if she’d never existed, the way his father pushed aside the memory of his mother? Would he try to take his child away from her?
“Are you okay, angel?” Jake asked against her ear.
Claire took a deep breath and eased out of his arms. “Yes. I’ll be finished in a minute.”
Jake must not have liked what he saw on her face, because he threw a suspicious glare at Ray. “Is there something I ought to know, Ray?”
The foreman pushed past Jake on his way out of the stall. “Nothing you don’t already know.”
“What was that all about?” Jake demanded after watching Ray leave.
Claire continued brushing the mare. “He was just filling me in on a little history of the ranch.”
“What kind of history?”
“Oh, the usual family stories that come with this kind of place. Do you like walnuts or pecans in your cookies?”
She didn’t know if Jake took the bait by her design or his, but he reluctantly answered her question, then helped her finish grooming the mare. For once, Claire let someone help her without complaint.
Jake had been trying to help her with a lot of little things since they married, and she’d pushed him away in her damned drive for independence. Pushed him away just like his father pushed him away. Well, that had to stop. Not only did acting like they were in love require cooperation and sharing, the real thing did, too. She had to let him share her life without accusing him of trying to control her every breath, without the knee-jerk redaction that kept him at a distance, If she was ever going to teach Jake how to love, she had to do a little bending of her own.
She only hoped she wouldn’t break.
Chapter Eight
“T
hat’s the last of the luggage,” Hank announced as he preceded Jake into the living room. “Everybody’s bags are in their assigned rooms.”
Claire’s eyes went immediately to her husband’s tight face. Ever since they’d picked the Edens up at the Greeley airport, he and Hank had been circling one another like two angry bears waiting for a tooth hold.
“Good.” Alex stood with her sleeping three-year-old daughter in her arms. “I’m going to put Sarah down for a nap.”
The three of them watched as she disappeared up the stairs, then Jake asked, “Where are the boys?”
“I told them they could play outside. They’re probably bouncing off the walls of the barn after the long hours in the plane and the car.” Claire stood. “Why don’t I call them in for a snack? Hank, you could use something, couldn’t you?”
Anything to keep him occupied.
Hank grinned. “Something you cooked?”
“Very funny. I didn’t make the milk, but I did make the cookies.”
“Delicious cookies,” Jake added quickly, watching Hank with a face that seemed like a rubber band at its breaking point.
“All right, then. Go call the boys in and feed them. We’ll be along directly.” Hank turned to Jake. “You got an office or someplace we can have our little chat? Might as well get it over with.”
Jake’s tight smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Follow me.”
“Whoa! Wait just a minute.” Claire grabbed Jake’s sleeve. “What talk?”
Hank answered. “The one where I ask him what the hell was the hurry that he couldn’t invite your family to the wedding.”
Claire glared at her brother. “You’re not pulling that macho man-to-man stuff on me. You talk, and I’m going to be there.”
Hank drew up to his full height and planted his hands on his hips. “Claire...”
“Any questions you have concern Claire as much as me.” Jake placed a hand on the small of her back. “Come on, angel.”
He turned and guided her down the hall. Hank came into the office behind them and looked around with a critical eye. Claire knew what he saw. Her brother would know immediately that this wasn’t a ranch office. The room didn’t even sport a computer, since the real ranch office now resided in the foreman’s house, half a mile away. Jake told her yesterday he hadn’t installed a computer here because he’d be forced to keep in touch with the Pawnee office. The rare times he came to the ranch, he wanted to get away from work.
The tension in the room was so thick you could walk across it with snow shoes. Knowing Hank was drawing this out deliberately, Claire opened her mouth to comment, but Jake beat her to it.
“If you’ve got something to say, let’s have it.”
Hank turned to her husband, planted his feet and crossed his arms across his chest. “Normally I’d be asking any potential suitors how they planned to support my sister, but you’ve made it clear you’re more than capable of that. Nice plane, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Jake said tersely.
“So I’ve just got one question. Did you get her pregnant?”
Claire planted her hands on her hips. “I already told Alex we didn’t get married because I’m pregnant. I know good and well she told you.”
Hank didn’t take his eyes off Jake. “I want to hear it from your husband.”
Jake said simply, “Not yet.”
Hank’s face cleared just a shade. “Well, that’s good. Now I don’t have to do what Travis told me to.”
“What’s that?”
“Kick you so far it’d take a bloodhound six weeks just to find your scent.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “For Pete’s sake, Hank—”
“So what was the all-fired hurry, then?” her brother demanded. “This guy have so much money you were ashamed of your cowboy brothers?”
“No, Hank, of course not.”
“Then why?”
“We had to,” Jake answered.
Hank’s eyes narrowed. “You already said you didn’t get her pregnant.”
“No, but we’re working on it. That’s why we married so quickly. When we found out Claire has a condition that will soon make it impossible for her to get pregnant, we knew we didn’t have a day to waste.”
Hank’s eyes widened and shot to her. “Condition? What condition?”
Claire frowned at her husband. She should’ve told him not to tell her family about the endometriosis. “Don’t worry, Hank, it’s not life threatening. And it should go away after I have a baby.”
“It’s the same problem you’ve had since you were a teenager, isn’t it?”
“She’s had this condition that long?” Jake demanded. “And you didn’t take her to a doctor?”
“He did,” Claire assured him. “Rather, Alex took me. Dr. Freeman said the endometriosis couldn’t have been detected that early without surgery.”
“Are you sure?” Hank asked, clearly upset.
Claire placed a hand on her brother’s arm. “It’s not your fault, Hank. It’s mine for not getting myself checked out several years ago when the pain started getting so bad I missed a couple of days of work every month.”
Hank folded her in his long, strong arms and squeezed. “I love you, Claire. I just want you to be happy.”
“I know, Hank. I am.”
“You didn’t ask the obvious question,” Jake said, drawing their gaze. He watched them like a hungry wolf watched his next meal bounding away across a swollen stream.
“What’s that?” Hank asked.
“You didn’t ask if I love her.”
Claire’s eyes widened. Why the heck did Jake bring that up? Now he’d have to lie directly to Hank’s face, something she’d been hoping to avoid.
Hank shrugged. “You answered that question when you brought her in here. You obviously know Claire well enough to know she hates to be left out of things, and you cared enough to invite her along.”
Claire looked up in surprise at her brother’s discerning comment, then her gaze flew to Jake. Wrapped up in the tense moment, she hadn’t noticed her husband’s thoughtful gesture. He’d finally given her something that didn’t cost anything, something so personal it showed he understood what made her tick and wanted to please her—and she didn’t even notice.
Jake looked lost standing by himself, his arms as empty as his eyes. So Claire unwrapped her arms from around her brother and walked over to fill her husband’s. He squeezed her tight and placed a kiss on top of her head.
Could Hank’s inference be true? Was Jake learning how to love her? Or was this just part of his “act” for fooling her family?
Hank cleared his throat. “Now that we’ve gotten all that out of the way, we can find out if we’re able to stand each other. Welcome to the family.”
They turned to find his hand extended.
Jake didn’t take it. “Not so fast, Eden. We’ll never get along until you get one thing straight.”
Hank drew back his hand. “What’s that?”
“You’ve been ordering Claire around ever since you got off the plane. She’s not your baby sister anymore. She’s a woman, and she’s my wife. No more telling her where to sit in the car or telling her she needs to eat more. No more comments about her cooking.”
“Hank’s just teasing,” Claire said softly. “Besides, I am a lousy cook.”
He pulled her a fraction closer. “I don’t care. I’m not going to stand by and watch you belittled by anyone. Got that, Eden?”
She peered up at her husband, as startled by this fiercely protective stance as Hank. Jake was branding her as his woman, making it clear he’d be protecting her. Why didn’t his words make her feel like beating on his chest, insisting she could take care of herself? Why did they make goose bumps rise on her arms and heat burrow deep in her heart?
Was it love? Please, God, no. Not yet. She couldn’t love this man until he loved her. If she loved him without him loving her back, he’d swallow her whole.
Hank grinned and stretched his hand out again. “She’s all yours, Anderson. Good luck taming her.”
“I don’t want to tame her,” Jake said, shaking Hank’s hand so hard Claire felt it as she stood in the circle of his other arm. “She’s perfect just the way she is.”
She couldn’t stop shivers from racing one another down her spine. Jake was either learning to love her, or he’d be fantastic on Broadway.
She’d give ten years off her life to know which.
“Travis will be here tomorrow?” Claire asked as she peeled the carrots for supper. Alex only let her do the most mundane cooking chores. Her sister-in-law had tried to teach her how to prepare edible food years ago, but Claire hated cooking and the lessons didn’t take. Good thing Jake was rich enough to hire a cook. Though it was taking an effort to get used to having everything else done by the Sanchezes, coming home to a well-cooked meal was the one extravagance she was grateful Jake could afford.
“He’s driving in from California,” Alex said from the stove. “He said he’d definitely be here to eat Thanksgiving dinner with us at two.”
Claire shook her head. “When is he planning to stop riding bulls? Has he given any hints? He’s the same age as Jake and has had every bone in his body broken at least once.”
“He keeps saying he’s going to quit, and he tries to stick around the Garden. But after a few weeks, he gets antsy. He goes to one rodeo, then another, then another. Pretty soon he has enough points to go for another shot at the National Finals. And this year he qualified in team roping as well as bull riding.”
Claire snorted. “You’d think seven bull riding championships and two all-around cowboy buckles would be enough for him.”
Alex wiped her hand on her apron, picked up her cup of coffee and leaned against the counter beside Claire. “Enough about your brother. This is the first time we’ve been alone. So let’s talk.”
Claire frowned and glanced out the kitchen window to see if a distraction might be walking up the drive. The men had taken the kids out for a ride over an hour ago. “What time do you think the guys’ll be back?”
“Who cares? Stop changing the subject.”
Claire sighed. “I thought Hank was the inquisitor general in the family.”
Alex laughed. “You know better than that. Especially when you up and get married out of the blue. Especially when you marry someone who could buy the state of Wyoming and not bat an eyelash.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Start at the beginning. Where did you meet?”
Claire spent the next half hour telling Alex as much about their relationship as she dared. She didn’t actually lie, but she made it sound like some of the places they’d gone after they got married were dates before so Alex wouldn’t realize they’d only known each other three days before they flew to Las Vegas.
Just when Claire thought her sister-in-law was satisfied, Alex asked, “So, how is he as a lover?”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. “Alex!”
“Oh, come on. We’re both married women.”
Claire glanced behind them.
“Good grief, Claire. The kids are with Hank.”
She glared at Alex who watched her relentlessly, then sighed. “I don’t have much to compare him with, but he’s just fine in that department.”
“Fine?”
“All right. Good. Great. Fantastic. He makes me scream even when I don’t want to. Satisfied?”
Alex chuckled. “Good for him. So you’ve been married three weeks now. Any signs of pregnancy?”
“I’m three days late.”
Alex’s grin reached from ear to ear. “Does Jake know?”
Claire shook her head.
“Have you taken a pregnancy test?”
Claire made a face. “Can you believe I haven’t been to a store of any kind since we married? Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez do all the shopping—and cooking and cleaning. I’m not about to ask them to get one, and Jake won’t let me out of his sight long enough to go get one myself. Except when we’re at work, and then I’m too busy.”
“I can see being rich is quite a strain on you,” Alex said wryly. She glanced at her watch. “It’s too late today and the stores will be closed tomorrow. We’ll go into town Friday and get one. I take it you want to be certain before you let Jake know?”
Claire nodded.
“Not afraid he’ll stop trying, are you?”
Claire rolled her eyes, and Alex chuckled. “Good for him. But how is this going to work out, with your new job and all? Won’t that take a lot of time?”
She frowned. “It does take a lot of time. I’m just hoping I’ll be used to it by the time I have the baby. I want to see my child grow up, not hear about it from a servant. Sometimes I wish I’d stayed at Whitaker. I could take as few or as many clients as I wanted to there, so I could have as much time with my baby as I want.”
“That’ll be twenty-four hours a day,” Alex said. “What does Jake think about you working?”