Big Sky Rancher (15 page)

“Is she old enough to eat pancakes?”

Jennifer shrugged and picked up her fork. “We'll soon find out, won't we?” She cut a bite and offered it, and with a quick move, Susan pulled it from the fork and popped it into her mouth.

“You little dickens.” Jennifer could not help the laughter that escaped as she cut another piece. Again the baby seized the bite, but this time looked over her shoulder and aimed it at Jennifer's mouth instead. Automatically she took it from the tiny fingers and tasted strawberry jam.

“One for you and one for me.” An old game she'd played with a neighbor's child came back to her, and Susan seemed
to be acquainted with it, for she squealed and pointed at the plate. Jennifer did as she'd been instructed by the little tyrant and they ate their breakfast in short order.

Lucas rose, his plate cleaned, six pancakes in his stomach and picked up his coffee cup, draining it. “I'm going to the mine. I'll be back for supper.”

“All right.” Unwilling to make a gesture of reconciliation, Jennifer lifted her gaze to his and nodded.

He circled the table and bent to her, lifting her chin, when she would not have offered her face for his kiss, and leaning over farther to press his lips against hers. She tasted the syrup he'd eaten, caught the scent of his coffee, and closed her eyes, feeling the tears gathering behind her eyelids.

She
would not
cry. No matter the urge, she wouldn't be weak in front of him, would not allow him the sight of her tears as he left.

“Keep an eye on things, Mrs. Bronson,” Lucas said, as if he knew the battle between himself and his wife was far from over and he feared that Jennifer might flee the arena before he returned.

His housekeeper nodded. “I surely will, Luc. I surely will.”

And then as the door closed behind him and he headed to the barn and his horse, Jennifer stood and held the baby in her arms, crossing to the window to watch his progress. He walked from the wide doors in a moment, leading his gelding, his saddle gripped in his right hand. The horse stood with his reins touching the ground as Lucas tossed a bit of blanket across the animal's back and then put on the saddle, with a few quick movements pulling the cinch taut, then dropping the stirrup into place.

He mounted and, with a quick look at the house and an up-
lifted hand, rode from the yard. Traveling across the fence line and beyond the pasture, he followed a trail leading through the woods to the mine field up the canyon.

“Are you coming with me?” Jennifer asked, still looking from the window.

“I won't turn you out on your own, girl. And I just told Luc I'd keep an eye on you, didn't I?”

“You'll have to do that in town then. And if it's still available, I'd like to take up residence in your house, Ida.”

“What did he do to you? You look like a dyin' duck in a thunderstorm.”

“Well, that sounds unpleasant.” Jennifer laughed and turned around. Susan's hand touched her aunt's cheek, as if she enjoyed the smile that dwelt there.

“You know what I mean, Jen. But I just now decided I don't want to know what he did. Some things are none of my business. And you're not limping and you don't have any bruises to be seen, so I figure he didn't hurt you much.”

“Oh, he hurt me, all right. Not where it shows maybe, but his words cut deep.”

“That'll happen. Men don't realize how ignorant they sound sometimes. But Luc is usually pretty much on target, Jen. Maybe you ought to rethink what happened between the two of you. I doubt the man would purposely hurt you, either by word or deed.”

“I don't want to talk about it. I just want to pack up and leave. We'll use the wagon and he can come pick it up when he wants it back.”

“He'll probably want to stick you in it before he heads for home with it.”

“Maybe so, but I'm not coming back.”

Ida shrugged and shook her head. “I'll go along with you, and I've already told you that my house is at your disposal. Give me that baby and you can put your things together and get hers gathered up, too.”

“All right.” Resisting the urge to look from the window to see if Lucas was still in sight, Jennifer transferred Susan to the woman's arms and left the room.

 

L
UCAS WAS HOT
and weary, his clothes dirty and disheveled, and he was in dire need of a bath and a shave. Recalling his beard rubbing against Jennifer's tender skin early in the morning made him vow to shave every evening, come what may. There'd be no more reddened skin from his whiskers if he could help it.

He rubbed down his horse, propped the saddle against the wall and hung the bridle in the tack room, then put the animal in his stall. Scooping a can of grain into the horse's feed bucket before he left the barn he sighed wearily. The walk to the house seemed longer than usual and he moved a bit faster, suddenly anxious to see Jennifer, to gain an impression of her mood, to plan his strategy for the evening.

He'd be more gentlemanly tonight, give her a chance to— His thoughts broke off as he climbed the steps to the porch and noted the dark kitchen in front of him. There should have been a light glowing from the window. It wasn't quite dark outside, but nevertheless, Ida would have lit the lamp by now.

His heart pounded in his chest as he turned the doorknob and shoved his way into the house. No sounds of voices met his ear, no scents of supper met his nose and not a trace did he see of the woman he'd thought of all day.

“Jennifer? Where are you?” Even as he called her name, he sensed her absence from his house. She was gone.

He sat on a chair and took a deep breath. She was
gone,
and little wonder. He'd treated her harshly, taken her with the force of a man set on seduction, pitted his strength against hers and won the battle. She was small, soft and fragile and he'd treated her like a woman without feelings. And if ever there was a female with emotions aplenty, it was his wife.

He rose and looked from the back door. Through the dusk, he looked toward the lean-to on the side of the barn, where his farm wagon should have been sitting. And then beyond it to the pasture where there was no sign of the two horses he used to plow and pull his wagon and other equipment.

He should have noticed when he'd rode up that they weren't there, but as weary as he was, as ready for the comfort of a warm bath and a hot meal, he'd looked neither right nor left, only headed for the barn and given his gelding the comfort of his stall.

“She's in town. I'll bet she took Mrs. Bronson and Susan and hightailed it into town.” He spoke loudly, as if someone might hear his pronouncement, and then sagged a bit, thinking ahead to what he must do tonight before he found any rest in his bed. He'd have to make tracks to Thunder Canyon, seek out his wayward wife and haul her home.

If necessary, he'd leave Mrs. Bronson there with Susan till morning, and just cart Jennifer with him on his horse. She'd have a royal fit, but she could just holler all she wanted to. There was no way he was leaving her in town and sit here cooling his heels while she gloated over her escape.

For that described exactly what she'd done. Made an escape from him, from the home he'd given her and the love— He examined his thoughts.
What love?
What on earth was he thinking? He'd never told her he loved her, never even con
sidered the idea. And now an overwhelming sadness swept through him. He might never have a chance to say the words, he realized. For if Jennifer had truly decided to leave him permanently, it might be that she'd left for New York City already.

But if she was still in Thunder Canyon, he'd find her. Tonight.

S
LEEPING IN A STRANGE BED
was not Susan's first choice, obviously, for she protested when Jennifer took her upstairs and coaxed her into lying on the big double bed she'd chosen for her own use. It took almost an hour of singing and cuddling before the child finally settled down for a late nap and Jennifer began to unpack their belongings.

Beside the bed, Buster lay in a heap, his nondescript brown coat shedding over both the rug he occupied and the side of the bed quilt. Nonetheless, he seemed determined to keep watch over the tiny child on the bed, and Jennifer could not fault his presence in the room.

Now she placed her clothing in the room's huge dresser. Mrs. Bronson had kept all of her furniture and each of the seven bedrooms on the second floor combined a bed and dresser or chest of drawers. Since Ida had one room and Jennifer another, that left five to rent, plus the third floor. It held six smaller rooms, plus a huge attic crammed with a veritable gold mine of furniture, surely enough to round out the bedrooms with anything a man might need. It was obvious why Ida had felt the house much too big to live in by herself.

The dresser near the door was filled readily with her own clothing, and Susan's new things were put into a chest of
drawers across the room, a lovely piece of furniture that had come directly from Chicago, according to its proud owner. Ida had, early on, urged Jennifer to take this room, telling her that it had the best view from the windows and the morning sun would not awaken her if she pulled the curtains at night.

Planning on rising early, Jennifer decided to leave the draperies open on a regular basis, knowing that she might as well get in practice for the day when their boardinghouse began to serve as home to an assortment of miners, and rising early would be the order of the day.

Upon their arrival during the afternoon she'd spent an hour at the general store, stocking up on foodstuffs while Ida kept the baby at home. She set up a new account, and being the wife of the mayor seemed to give her an unlimited amount to spend. Her list was long, reflecting both Ida's and Sally Jo's input, and the storekeeper was delighted with the total of her bill. Offering to have the boxes delivered to Ida's home, he ushered a grateful Jennifer from his store.

She stood on the sidewalk and looked at the storefronts lining Main Street. Sally Jo was in front of her barber shop and her hand lifted in a welcoming wave.

“Would you like to come and see what we're planning?” Jennifer asked when she reached Sally Jo.

An enthusiastic nod met her invitation. “Sure would. In fact, I'll bring along some things I put together for you. I found a nice piece of wood, not too heavy, something we can handle, and painted it all white. I thought you and Ida could decide on prices and so on, and I'd finish it for you later tonight. I'll bring a can of black paint and a small brush. We'll get you all set up in business right away.”

“How long before you close for the day?” Jennifer asked. “I thought we might make a late supper and you could join us.”

Sally Jo's eyes lit with appreciation. “I'd like that. See you in a couple of hours, as soon as I get all my gentlemen taken care of.”

It was only a short distance back to the house and the storekeeper's son was already unloading Jennifer's purchases at the back door.

“You've done well,” Ida said, putting away cans and boxes in the pantry. “I couldn't see anything you missed.”

“Only eggs. And they'll have some coming in tomorrow morning. I think we'd better find some chickens so we won't have to depend on someone else's to keep us in eggs.”

Ida laughed. “I'm not real fond of chickens, Jen. That'll be your department, feeding them and gathering eggs.”

“I'll hire someone else to clean the chicken coop.” Jennifer made a face. “I can't stand the smell.”

“First we'll have to have a coop.”

“I thought I'd go to the lumberyard and find out who could build one for us.” She'd paid special mind to the establishments in town on her way home, and noted that the lumberyard seemed to be a thriving concern.

Home.
That word stuck in her mind as she looked around the kitchen. This wouldn't really be home to her, she feared. On the other hand, the big farmhouse where she'd lived with Lucas for those few weeks seemed, upon reflection, to be a haven such as she'd always yearned for. She stood straighter, her shoulders back, her eyes burning as she thought of not seeing Lucas again.

If only he weren't such a…such a
man.
The thought made her smile and she ducked her head, lest Ida think her daft. The memory of Lucas's arms holding her, his kisses against her
skin tempting her beyond reason, the hours of darkness they'd spent together, all ran together in her mind. She was besotted with the man, and felt miserable admitting it to herself.

No matter. She'd get over that soon enough, she determined. With enough hard work to her credit on a daily basis, she'd sleep dreamlessly and forget she'd ever known Lucas O'Reilly.

Fat chance.
The words traveled through her mind, taunting her, and she busied herself with Susan. Ida had tied the baby in a chair and given her kitchen utensils to play with, and now the child was more than willing to eat her supper, banging on the chair seat with a wooden spoon. The dog once more played guardian, lying beside the chair, looking up at her charge.

“That baby's still tired. Her nap was too short,” Ida said. “Just less than an hour. I'll bet she goes to bed without a peep after you feed her.”

And so it was, Susan responding to Jennifer's songs and whispered phrases, her eyes closing in slumber within minutes. Jen rose from the bed and went back down the stairs, ready for supper herself, leaving Buster in residence in the bedroom.

“I think that dog has adopted Susan,” she told Ida. “He's lying by the bed again. I doubt Susan could get into much trouble with Buster keeping an eye on her.”

“He's a good mutt,” Ida agreed. Jennifer felt at ease, what with Ida putting the finishing touches on their late supper and things in reasonable order. And now, unless she was mistaken, Sally Jo was knocking on the front door.

Jennifer sped the length of the long hallway, from the kitchen to the foyer, where Ida had already swept an accumu
lation of dust and dirt from sight. Admiring the fine lines of a small table in the parlor, Jennifer swung open the big front door without hesitation.

“Hello, Jennifer.” Lucas stood just two feet from her, but he might as well have been treading on her toes, so imposing was his presence.

She stepped back and swung the door closed, her intentions obvious. But, Lucas proved to be quicker than she, for his big foot halted the progress of the door and he pushed it open and walked inside.

“You weren't invited in,” Jennifer told him.

“I'm not waiting for an invite.” Hands propped on his hips, he looked down at her. “I came to take you home, Jen. I don't know what you think you're doing, running out on me, taking Mrs. Bronson and Susan with you, and setting up housekeeping here, but you'd might as well call it quits right now.”

“I'm going to be running a legitimate business. We're opening a boardinghouse, and in fact, Sally Jo is coming by to make us a sign. I thought she was—”

“I'm not Sally Jo, and it isn't going to do a whole lot of good to make a sign and hang it when you're not even going to be here.”

“I beg your pardon.” Her back was up now. Just who did he think he was, telling her what she could and couldn't do? And then he answered that query in short order.

“I'm your husband, Jennifer, and the mayor of this town. If the council decides we don't need a boardinghouse, we can shut you down in short order. You'd do well to come with me and avoid a lot of problems.”

She opened the door and swept her arm wide. “Go home,
Lucas. You proved last night what a wonderful husband you are. I don't need any more reminders. Leave me be.” She felt a flush coat her cheeks as she spoke, and the sight of Lucas's grin didn't help matters any.

“I'm glad you thought I was wonderful, Jen. I can't begin to tell you how much I enjoyed turning you into my wife. As to reminders, I'd be happy to give you another demonstration of what goes on in the marriage bed.”

She looked up at him with an appeal he could not miss. “Please, Lucas. I already hate myself for the way I acted last night. Don't make it any worse.”

 

T
HE FOOL WOMAN
was having regrets. Big regrets, if he was any judge. And he knew she'd been happy last night, knew that he'd given her pleasure, that her response had been genuine. There was no faking the satisfaction of a woman fulfilled and she'd expressed it without a doubt. Jennifer was truly his wife, and some way he'd clear this whole thing up and put his marriage on the right track.

“All right, I'll leave,” he said agreeably. “Get your boardinghouse in order and work your fingers to the bone, if that's what you want. You'll be ready to come home before long. Cleaning up after one man won't seem so bad, once you have a houseful of dirty miners to cope with.”

He turned and made his way out the door. At least he'd know where to find her. And he'd guarantee his words would stick in her mind. She'd had it pretty good, he decided, and she was in for a big surprise.

Sally Jo walked through the gate, carrying a large piece of wood. She smiled and nodded. “Hello, Lucas. Been visiting?”

“Sally Jo.” He tipped his hat and stepped aside, leaving the
path free for her to walk to the porch. “I see you have Jennifer's sign for her.”

“I haven't put any prices on it yet. I wasn't sure what she and Mrs. Bronson wanted to use as a set of fees.”

“Whatever they charge, they'll earn every cent, that's for sure. Feeding and providing for a whole houseful of men won't seem nearly such a good idea in a couple of weeks.”

Sally Jo smiled. “You may be right, Lucas. But then again, Jennifer seems pretty determined to make a go of this. I wouldn't count on her failing quite yet. In fact, I'm happy to see another woman going into business for herself. I have fond hopes that she'll find success.”

“We'll see.” He grinned and tipped his hat again. “Good night, ma'am. I'll be seeing you again.”

“I'm sure,” she murmured, climbing the steps and walking across the porch. The door was opened before she could knock and Jennifer ushered her into the hallway, her smile grim, her eyes shooting fire.

“What did Lucas say to you?”

“Not much. Just gave me dire predictions about your business. It seems he doesn't give you much of a chance to succeed.”

“He's in for a big surprise.” Jennifer led the way back to the kitchen and Sally Jo propped her board against the wall.

“We'll work on that later,” Jennifer said. “First we're going to eat.”

 

T
HE SIGN
was hung against the wall, all three women holding it in place, deciding on the proper level, and then nailing it up next to the stairway. The price list they'd agreed on was impressive and Jennifer had dreams of a long line of men awaited entry to the house, each of them carrying a valise and a handful of money.

She told Ida of her dreams in the morning. “I thought we could put an ad in the newspaper, Ida, and a list of the prices for just renting a room and for boarding with us. What do you think?”

“Why don't you walk on down to the newspaper office and take care of it, and I'll stay here and start sorting out sheets and bedrooms? With any luck, we may have a couple of boarders by nightfall, once the men hear about this place.”

Ida was right, for three bedrooms held their first gentlemen that night. Supper had been a jovial occasion, with all three men giving Ida sincere compliments on her cooking, and all three of them eyeing Jennifer, as if they wondered what she was doing there. One of them, Toby Martin, asked her about her presence, a bold man who showed an inordinate interest in her.

“Ain't you married to Luc O'Reilly?” At Jennifer's reluctant nod, Toby grinned. “I'll bet you he ain't happy with you runnin' this place. I heard he sent for you from back East to keep his house and take care of things out there. And instead here you are in town, running a business. You get tired of him already?”

“You better watch your mouth, Toby Martin.” Ida shot the man a look guaranteed to peel wallpaper and he ducked his head.

“Didn't mean no disrespect. I was just wonderin'—”

“Well, keep your thoughts to yourself. What Mrs. O'Reilly does is her own business and she doesn't need you pokin' into her affairs.”

It was obvious that Mrs. Bronson would rule this house with an iron hand, and Jennifer was pleased at her speaking up. The men made her just a bit uncomfortable and she sensed that they all had questions they'd like to ask, but Ida's words seemed to silence the lot of them.

They sought out their rooms right after supper. As one of
them, a man named Cole Weston, said, they were looking forward to comfortable beds. He halted by the staircase and nodded at Jennifer.

“I sure was pleased to hear that y'all were opening up a boardinghouse, ma'am. I was sure enough sick and tired of eatin' my own cookin' and sleepin' on the ground.”

“You come from the South, Mr. Weston?” Jennifer asked.

“Yes, ma'am. From Texas. Heard there was gold to be found here, and I staked my claim.”

“I hope you'll be satisfied with your accommodations, sir. Breakfast is at six. I don't know if Mrs. Bronson told you or not.”

“Yes, ma'am, she surely did. We need to get out to our claims early on.”

Jennifer nodded. “Then I'll wish you a good night, Mr. Weston.”

 

“I
THOUGHT
it went well.” Jennifer picked up the last piece of silverware and dried it, then put the plates and cups in the cupboard. “They sure liked your fried chicken. You know, I watched you real close while you were cooking, and I think I've finally got the idea in my head, you know, about the grease being hot enough, so the chicken doesn't just lie there and soak up the lard.”