Ain't No Angel (7 page)

****

Laney glanced around the bedroom, and released the air from her lungs in one long, drawn out breath. Tyler had just brought in the last of her trunks, given her another polite nod, and told her he had to go unhitch the horses. She stared at the open door to the room, and fought the impulse to run after him to tell him she would like to help. Something told her that wasn’t the wisest thing to do. Besides, she really wanted to get out of this confining dress, and whatever other layers she wore underneath. Hopefully there was something more comfortable to wear in her luggage.

Slowly, she studied her surroundings. The fact that this room hadn’t been occupied in a long time was obvious. A thick layer of dust covered the furniture. A crystal oil lamp, also covered in dust, sat on top of an antique-looking dresser, and another one on the small nightstand by the bed. Unlike the rest of the house, which she’d only glimpsed briefly, this room had a definite feminine feel to it, with the lace curtains, and the ornate rose and yellow-colored patchwork quilt on top of the bed. A lace doily lay on top of the dresser.

Tyler had led her immediately to this room, but passing through what she assumed was the family, or central, room of the house, it was obvious that the place lacked a woman’s touch. A large stone fireplace took up most of the wall opposite the front door, and a painting of a horse that hung over the mantle had immediately caught her attention. The wooden floor looked dull and was in desperate need of a good washing and polishing. If she ever got lost inside the house, she could simply follow the dried mud tracks that led from the entrance down the hall. A distinct odor of leather filled the air. Several saddles and various other tack lay strewn around the floor.

How long had it been since a woman had lived in this house? Was there even a kitchen? Since she hadn’t been given a formal tour, she’d have to go explore on her own. Dread filled her. Tyler wanted her to cook. She didn’t even have a stove in her motel room, only a microwave. Dinner usually consisted of a warmed up can of soup or a peanut butter sandwich. She’d done a little cooking several years ago when she was still living with one of her foster families, but most everything had been processed and packaged foods. She certainly wouldn’t find any of those things here.

Laney shrugged it off for now. She had more pressing things to deal with at the moment. She moved in front of the oval mirror hanging over the dresser.

“Oh my god,” she said slowly, and touched her hands to her hair. “I look like a Barbie doll.”

Curls of her blonde, normally straight hair were piled on top of her head. More curls framed her face, and tumbled down her back. Laney’s priority swiftly changed from undressing to searching and rooting for all the pins that held her hair in place. She much preferred to wear it swept back in a ponytail, or freely down her back. Curling and styling her hair in this fashion must have taken hours.

“I sure hope I won’t be expected to do this every day,” she mumbled. 

Once her hair was free, she went to work releasing the countless buttons on the tight bodice of her dress. More layers of what looked like a white nightgown covered her, and underneath that was a stiff corset.

“No wonder I can’t breathe.”

She stepped out of the skirt after untying her tight shoes. She flipped them off, and they landed with a dull thud against the wooden wall of the room. Next, she peeled the stockings off her feet, and wiggled her toes freely for the first time in hours.  Laney sighed loudly.

Three layers of petticoats followed the skirt, and she finally assessed her appearance in the mirror again. She laughed. There she stood, in white bloomers, a corset, and a white chemise under that.

She raked her hands through her hair to straighten the curls as best she could, then knelt in front of one of the trunks. Flipping open the lid, she rummaged through the contents. Petticoats, undergarments, dresses, corsets, several hats.

“No jeans and no t-shirts,” she stated the obvious. Somehow she had already known she wouldn’t find any familiar or comfortable clothes in her luggage. The reverend hadn’t been kidding. Everything she’d seen so far pointed to the truth. She truly was in the year 1872.

What would Tyler think if she wore modern-day clothes? A slow smile spread across her face. Her fingers tingled suddenly at the memory of his hand wrapping around hers, pulling her up off the ground after she lost her footing and fell from the wagon. Of all the embarrassing things to do, but he hadn’t laughed at her, hadn’t made fun of her mishap. There had been genuine concern in his eyes.

Tyler was the most polite guy she’d ever met, and it made him even more attractive. She wondered again why he would require a prostitute . . . correction, a mail order bride, when he could probably have his pick of a wife locally. Was it true that there really weren’t any unmarried women in the area?

Laney stood, and glanced in the mirror again. She ran her hand along the contours of the corset. The stiff contraption gave her an unnatural hourglass shape. 

“There’s no way I’m wearing this thing every day,” she mumbled, and searched for the hooks or ties that would loosen the corset from around her ribcage. She turned sideways and peered into the mirror over her shoulder. The lacings were at the back. She reached her hand over her shoulder, then under, trying to get to the strings.

“Dammit. How am I supposed to get this thing off me?”

She turned in a circle, trying to see into the mirror while at the same time reach the lacings with her fingers. Laney growled loudly in frustration. She was tired, hungry, and she desperately needed to use the bathroom.

“I bet there isn’t even a bathroom,” she said out loud.

Exasperated, she moved away from the mirror. With a loud sigh, she let herself fall backwards onto the bed, sending up a small cloud of dust. Laney stared up at the ceiling. A loud knock sent her bolting upright again. Her eyes fell to the open door to her room. Tyler filled the frame, and their eyes met. His gaze traveled up and down her body, then he quickly turned his back to her.

“Thank God you’re here.” Laney scrambled from the bed and rushed to him from across the room.

“Eddie will have supper ready in about a half an hour.”

He stepped out into the hall, and Laney grabbed his arm before he had a chance to walk away.

 “Wait. I need your help, Tyler.”

Tyler’s muscles tensed underneath her hand, and he turned his head slightly to glance back at her.

“Please, I can’t undo this corset. Could you untie the lacing for me? I really need to change my clothes.” Laney peered up at him, and her mouth went dry. Tyler’s eyes roamed her face, every muscle along his jaw tense. For a split second, it seemed as if he was going to pull away from her and keep walking. She swallowed her apprehension.

You’re in the nineteenth century, Laney. People act differently here.

Had her behavior earlier when she’d come on to him out in the yard been a mistake? Had she been wrong in her assumption that she needed to play the role of a prostitute? The reverend had specifically told her that she was required to keep Tyler satisfied. Had she misinterpreted what he meant? How was she supposed to do that and behave like a prim and proper nineteenth century wife at the same time? Come to think of it, Tyler was probably expecting a virgin bride.

“I . . . I really feel uncomfortable standing here in just my underclothes, Tyler. I’d appreciate your help so I can change.” Was that the right tactic to use? Laney held her breath, waiting for his response.

“Turn around,” Tyler said, his jaw still tense, and his words clipped. She quickly did as he asked, holding her hands up to her chest for good measure.

Tyler’s fingers grazed her back when he lifted her hair and laid the long strands over her shoulder. Her heart hammered in her chest, and a chill raced down her spine. Why did he affect her like this? There was something so sensual about his slow and gentle movement, something so unexpectedly tender that it brought tears to her eyes. She’d asked him to remove her corset and he quietly complied, without any lewd remark or stare, or even a hint that he wanted to undress her fully and take advantage of the situation.

Tyler worked the lacings loose as if he had plenty of practice with this sort of thing, and she breathed freely once the confining contraption fell away from her sides. She clutched the corset tightly to her chest, even though she still wore a chemise underneath. A breeze swept through the room from the open window, and although it wasn’t cold, goose bumps covered her arms.

Laney stood still. She leaned forward slightly and held her head down. She ground her teeth in frustration. The skin along either side of her spine tingled, anticipating, longing for his touch. Now that he’d loosened the confining corset, she imagined his palms sliding along her shoulder, his lips pressing against the back of her neck.

“That oughta do it,” he grumbled. “You’d better get dressed before you catch a chill.”

Laney held her breath. She waited, then slowly turned.

“Thank you. I really appreciate . . .” Her voice trailed off. Tyler was already halfway down the hall, and headed for the front door. She stared after him, then stepped back into her room and quietly closed the door.  She leaned back against the cold wood. Holding the corset up to her chest as if she needed to shield herself from something, tears welled up in her eyes. She sucked in several deep breaths as if she’d just run several miles.

“What am I supposed to be doing here, Reverend?” she asked out loud. “You’ve set me up to fail. I can’t cook, I don’t know what’s expected of me as his wife. He doesn’t even seem to like me.”

And you’ve never been more attracted to a guy in your life.

Laney swiped at the tear that ran down her cheek. She couldn’t fail. This was her one shot to turn her life around back home.

Fix the horse and keep his owner satisfied.

Chapter 7

Tyler held a tin plate out to Eddie, absently watching the man dump a spoonful of beans onto it.

“I assume we can count you out of tonight’s card game,” Gabe’s voice said from behind him. He and the rest of his wranglers sat around the long table at the bunkhouse, enjoying their evening meal. Several men sniggered.

Eddie stopped piling beans onto the plate, and looked up at him, a wide grin on his face. Tyler fought the impulse to pour the food over the wrangler’s head.

“I hope your missus likes my cookin’, Ty. I made cornbread, extra for the occasion.” To prove what he said, he added a huge crumbling yellow mass on top of the mound of beans.

Tyler raised his brows, and studied the mountain of food on the plate. He wasn’t so sure Laney would find any of it appetizing.

“Occasion?”

“On account of your wedding today.” Eddie glanced from him to the men sitting at the table.  “I s’pose you’ll want to eat supper with her this evening. I’ll fix you up another plate that you can take up to the house.”

Tyler grunted. When it came to his new bride, what did he want? His thoughts were as mixed as the beans oozing in their sauce on the plate in his hands. He’d left the house in a rush not more than thirty minutes ago. When he went to tell her supper would be ready soon, he hadn’t expected to walk in on her, dressed in only her underthings. He should have walked away the moment he spotted her in the room instead of knocking to get her attention. She hadn’t seemed at all taken aback that he’d caught her in only her unmentionables.

Her pleas for help in removing her corset had surprised him more than he let on. What woman didn’t know how to remove the contraption on her own? Who had helped her during her travel west?

The disturbing thought that had entered his mind while he was at the house plagued him again now. He couldn’t shake the awful feeling that there was more to the woman than met the eye. Part of her acted flirty and promiscuous, while another part of her seemed so innocent and naïve. It was as if she knew exactly how her behavior affected a man, but at the same time she seemed ignorant of her actions.

And damn if he wasn’t affected by her. He didn’t want to like her. He didn’t want to be attracted to her . . . his own wife. Tyler clenched his jaw. Her unpinned hair begged for him to run his fingers through the golden strands that she’d released from their pins. It was all he could do to not touch her any more than was absolutely necessary to get the corset loosened enough to where she could take it off herself. The thin chemise underneath left little to the imagination.

Tyler turned around and met the expectant stares of the six men sitting around the table. Gabe raised his spoon to his lips, and stopped just short of shoveling the contents into his gaping mouth. He slowly lowered the utensil, and sat up straighter.

“I told the boys not to expect you for the next couple of days, at least, Ty. Bobby and Sammy can work on the new fence in the morning. I know you wanted the colts rounded up from the north pasture, so me, Eddie, and Beau will bring them in. We’ll get ready to geld the bunch.”

Tyler appreciated the take-charge attitude in his foreman, but he had no intention of leaving the ranch work to his crew alone.

“I’ll ride out to the range with you in the next couple of days and help bring in the colts.” Tyler glanced from one man to the other, his eyes settling on Gabe. He wordlessly accepted the second plate of food Eddie held out to him.

Gabe shoved a spoonful of beans into his mouth, a broad grin on his face as he chewed. He washed it down with a big gulp of coffee from his tin cup.

“Suit yourself, Ty.” He shrugged. “Your woman might have objections to that, though, considering it’s your weddin’ night and all, and she might want to get better acquainted with you over the next few days, if you know what I mean.” He winked, and several of the men chuckled.

“I have a ranch to run, Gabe. Whether I have a wife now or not doesn’t change that.” Tyler set the plates on the table, and poured himself a steaming cup of coffee. He sipped at the hot brew, leaning his back against the counter behind him.

“I need that fence finished so we can separate the colts.” He nodded toward Sammy. “There were two or three in the bunch that looked promising last fall, and I want to take a closer look at them before I decide to cut them. I’m especially interested in the gray.”

“Supper’s getting cold, Ty. Maybe you oughta-”

Gabe’s words were cut short when the door to the bunkhouse creaked loudly on its hinges. Tyler nearly spit the coffee from his mouth. Laney stood outside the door, peering hesitantly into the room.

“Can a girl join the club, or is this a boys only party?” she asked, a smile on her face.

Chairs scraped against the wooden floor, and the six men at the table scrambled to stand from their seats.

Laney took a step into the bunkhouse. She glanced around, looking at each of the men before her eyes settled on Tyler. He set his tin cup on the counter behind him, and met her at the door.

“I was about to bring you some supper,” he said over the noise behind him. His eyes quickly scanned the simple cotton dress she wore. It hung from her body as if it was intended for a larger woman. His eyes lingered on the top of her neckline, which she’d left unbuttoned, revealing skin that was a shade darker than it should be, unless she made a habit out of walking around with her neck and shoulders exposed to the sun. He’d already had an eyeful of the soft skin of her shoulders and arms, and had wondered about it then. A quick burst of annoyance swept through him. There were only certain women who bared their shoulders on a frequent basis, and even they tended to stay out of the sun. Rather than mar her beauty, the lightly tanned shade was attractive on her.

Laney stared up at him. “You don’t need to wait on me,” she said. “I don’t mind eating with the rest of you.” She glanced past him toward his crew. Tyler took an involuntary step closer, blocking her from his men’s view.

“Unless it’s not okay that I’m here,” she added hastily.

“We got plenty of room at the table,” Gabe called from behind him. “None of the boys have any objection. Unless you do, Ty.”

An unexplainable wave of jealousy washed over him. Some part of him was looking forward to spending a quiet supper alone with his new wife, maybe getting to know her a bit better. He didn’t know how to even start a conversation with her. That she seemed so at ease walking into a room full of woman-hungry wranglers fueled his earlier suspicions about her even more.

“We’ll eat supper at the house,” he said firmly, not taking his eyes off of her.

“But I really don’t mind if –”

Tyler took hold of her arm and nudged her out the door. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened as if she was about to protest. She flashed him a look of defiance, which quickly changed into one of submission. Her arm relaxed, and she nodded.

“I’ll be right back for those plates, Eddie,” Tyler called over his shoulder. He walked quicker than was necessary, his hand on Laney’s elbow.

“I’m sorry, Tyler,” she said. “I thought that since you were used to eating with your men, I’d come and join you. I didn’t think it was inappropriate.”

Tyler slowed, and turned his head to look at her. Uncertainty, perhaps even a touch of fear, reflected in her eyes. Why the hell would she be afraid of him? He released her elbow.

“I can’t vouch for my men’s manners, Laney. I didn’t want you subject to their rude behavior.”

Laney sniggered next to him. “Trust me, cowboy, I’m used to rowdy men and their behavior.” She smiled up at him, and Tyler’s gut clenched almost painfully. With the setting sun at her back, her hair shimmered like gold. Strands of her loose locks fluttered around her face in the evening breeze. God, she was beautiful.

A horse neighed from one of the corrals, and Tyler tore his eyes away from her, grateful for the distraction. Laney turned her attention to the animal, his bay saddle horse, Charlie, and veered off in the direction of the corral.

“It’s so good to be around horses again,” she said, almost to herself. She inhaled a deep breath and her face beamed with joy when she reached the fence. She held her hand out to stroke the gelding’s neck.

“Don’t they have horses in the city?” Tyler moved up beside her. He sucked in a breath of air, her floral scent teasing his senses. Something about what she’d said bothered him. She was used to being around rowdy men?

“Why would a woman come all the way from the east to Montana Territory to marry someone she doesn’t know?” The question was out before he could stop himself. He had to find out more about her. The strong attraction he felt for her confused the hell out of him. He needed to know that his suspicions about her were false.

The startled look in her eyes spoke louder than words, and Tyler’s heart sank to his gut. What were the odds that he had married a woman like his mother?

Laney laughed softly. She avoided looking at him and focused on the horse, which stuck its head over the top bar of the fence. Charlie seemed to enjoy her tender stroke along his neck, and Tyler’s eyes followed the movement of her hand. He draped his arms over the corral’s top rail, waiting to see if she’d respond to his question.

“I have no idea,” she finally said. She continued to avoid looking at him. Her shoulders slumped, making her look smaller than she was. “I came here because I was promised a better life. I thought that I could make something of myself.” She darted a quick glance at him. “My life hasn’t been all sunshine and roses.”

The bitterness, mixed with a hint of sadness in her voice startled him, and Tyler straightened. His forehead scrunched together, trying to decipher the meaning of her words. He wanted to reach for her, pull her into his arms and let her know everything would be all right.

Laney turned away from the horse and faced him fully. She raised her chin and smiled, but it was a bitter smile. “My mom used to call me her little angel. She said I was the most important thing in her life, especially after my dad left.” She sniffled, and wiped the sleeve of her dress under her nose.

Tyler held his breath, waiting for her to continue. Her words tugged at his heartstrings. Her father had left her and her mother?

“She’d often tell me, ‘I named you Delaney because you’re my little angel from heaven.’” Laney sniffled again, and let out a short laugh. “That’s what my name means, you know. Angel from heaven.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

Tears shimmered in her blue eyes. She gave Charlie a final pat, and stepped away from the fence. Tyler faced her, ready to tell her she wasn’t alone. With another quick laugh, she stared at him, and took a step back. “Trust me, cowboy, after the hell she put me through, I ain’t no angel.”

****

Tyler lay on his back, staring at the darkened ceiling. His hands were clasped behind his head, and he gnashed his teeth. The rest of his body was as tense as a strung drum. A slight breeze coming through the half-open window in his room cooled his bare skin.

Twenty-four hours ago, the only thing on his mind had been getting his crop of three-year-olds gentled and ready for buyers. Delaney Goodman had been a fleeting annoyance like a bur under his saddle. Something he had planned to take care of by sending her away before the dust even settled from the stagecoach wheels. Now she consumed his every thought. After knowing her for less than a day.

“Was that how it happened to you, Dad?” he asked out loud. His voice sounded odd in the quiet of the night. The rhythmic cadence of crickets chirping outside soothed his nerves as he searched his mind for an answer. “You were so taken with Mom that you didn’t care?”

Didn’t care that she was one of the town’s soiled doves
.

Tyler had been too young when his father first told him of his mother’s past to ask any questions. He’d always been aware that certain townsfolk avoided her or snubbed their noses at her. When his father finally revealed to him on his sixteenth birthday that his mother had worked in a saloon, and that he’d been one of her customers and fallen in love with her, Tyler had shrugged it off as insignificant. She had left him and his father, and he hadn’t seen her since. He’d witnessed what her betrayal was doing to his father, and he hated her for it.