Married In Montana (At The Altar Book 1) (4 page)

"Wow.  Really?"  She'd never heard of anything like that.

"And that was before she got a doctorate in psychology.  I trust her."

"I do too.  But you're right.  It is awkward."  She shrugged.  "I'm not sure what I expected.  I saw you, and my heart fluttered.  I felt so much, but now that we're alone, it's strange."

He raised an eyebrow and grinned.  "Your heart fluttered?"

She blushed. "I mean I was attracted to you.  You were someone I would have chosen from a line up to date."  She stopped then, realizing she was just digging a bigger hole for herself.  She sounded stupid.

He smiled, kissing the hand he still held.  "You know what?  I felt the same way.  I saw you, and all I could think was that a beautiful woman was about to marry me.  How could I complain about that?"

Chapter Three

On the short drive to the ranch from King, Scott pointed out different things that he wanted Savannah to see.  Finally they reached the ranch.  "This is my home," he said simply, driving up the long narrow driveway. 

She stared all around her.  The area was vast, and the mountains were beautiful.  She would be able to see mountains every day.  She liked the idea, although catching her breath was a bit difficult.  "I can feel the difference in the air." 

"We're over three thousand feet above sea level.  Is it hard for you to breathe?"

She shook her head.  "Not exactly.  It's just odd.  I'm sure I'll get used to it."

He parked in front of the house, getting out and coming around to help her down.  As soon as she was out of the truck, he bent and picked her up, carrying her to the house.  "Put me down!"

"I'm carrying you over the threshold.  I'm a groom, and it's my job."  Once they were inside he set her down and ran back out for her overnight case. 

Savannah stood in the middle of the living room looking around.  He was a man who liked his electronics apparently.  There was a huge flat screen television in the living room that had been mounted on one wall.  A couch faced it with two recliners grouped to make a nice sitting area.  She wandered to her right and found a dining room complete with a beautiful hutch full of china and a nice long oak table. 

The kitchen was off the dining room, and she peeked her head in.  There was a large refrigerator and a stand-alone freezer beside it.  There were two built-in ovens that reminded her of the kitchen Alice had cooked in on
The Brady Bunch
.  A microwave graced one counter, and the island in the middle of the kitchen had a built in flat top stove.  She could definitely cook there. 

"Savannah!  Where'd you go?" Scott called from the living room.

"I'm in the kitchen, admiring!" she called back.

He walked into the kitchen and smiled, putting his thumbs in his pockets.  "You like my kitchen?"

"I love your kitchen!"

"My mom had just had it remodeled before she died.  It's barely been used since." 

"What have you been doing for meals?"

He shrugged.  "I have a cook for my men, and I've been eating in the bunkhouse a lot.  I make sandwiches in here, or I drive into town to eat at the diner.  It always felt weird eating alone here after my parents were killed."

Savannah walked to him and wrapped her arms around him.  "You won't have to eat alone anymore."

Scott smiled at that, happy to have her there.  "I'm glad," he said simply, cupping the side of her face with one huge hand.  "Let me show you where you'll stay."  Taking her hand, he led her toward the stairs, grabbing her suitcase on the way up.  "There are two sets of stairs.  One here in the kitchen, and one in the living room."

The house was enormous.  It was so different from where she'd grown up.  Space was at a premium in New York, so the apartment she'd grown up in had been small.  The entire apartment she'd shared with her mother could have fit into his living room. 

He showed her the different rooms upstairs.  "There are six bedrooms upstairs, and one bedroom downstairs.  The one downstairs, I use as an office for my paperwork."  He pushed open a door on the right.  "This is our room.  There are only two bedrooms with attached baths.  This is one.  I'll put you in the other for your first week here."  He walked two doors down and pushed the door wide.  "I'm sorry the bed's not made up, but there are clean linens in the closet."

"I can make the bed."  She walked into the room and looked around.  There was a small adjacent bath with a shower, but no tub.  "This will work fine for me."

He put her suitcase on the bed.  "Don't get too comfortable in here."

She smiled.  "I won't."

"It's not too late.  Do you want to change, and we can sit on the back porch for a minute?"

"You have a porch?" she asked.  For some reason, a porch had been something she'd always wanted.  "Do you have a swing?"

He nodded.  "My mother loved porch swings, so my father built one for her.  Change and meet me in the living room."

"I need help."  Her voice was low, and she hated asking but there was no way she could get out of her dress on her own.  There was a tiny row of buttons that went from her back all the way down to her hips.  She turned her back to him, holding her hair to one side, so he could see what she needed him to do. 

Scott swallowed hard, looking at her.  He wanted to say that if he helped her undress, he should be able to touch everything he uncovered, but he'd agreed to wait.  He stepped forward and tried to make quick work of the buttons down her back, but his fingers were big, and the buttons were tiny and incredibly stubborn.  When he'd gotten enough undone that he was sure she could remove it, he kissed the side of her neck before stepping back.  "If you need more help, just let me know.  I'll take off or unfasten anything you need."

Savannah blushed.  "What a sweet offer.  You're going to be a good husband, aren't you?"

"When it comes to undressing you, I am!"

After he'd left, Savannah quickly stepped out of her dress and hung it in the closet before opening her suitcase and finding a pair of shorts and a sleeveless blouse.  She put on the clean clothes and went into the bathroom to run a brush through her blond hair.  At least she was presentable. 

She didn't bother with shoes before she stepped out of her bedroom and went down the stairs, finding him waiting for her.  He'd changed into a pair of shorts and a tee shirt.  He was looking out the window and didn't notice her coming down.  "Which way is the porch swing?" she asked.

He turned, his eyes traveling up and down her body.  If anyone else had looked at her that way, she'd have been offended, but he was her husband and had every right to admire her body if that's what he wanted to do.

He took her hand, leading her out to the porch.  She gasped in surprise when she saw the swing.  It was made of oak and had been stained.  It hung by chains from the porch ceiling.  "I won't ever want to go inside!"  She ran to it and sat down, finding it as comfortable as it was pretty. 

He smiled, enjoying her delight in the swing.  It would thrill him if she used it half as much as his mother had.  He sat down beside her after a moment, his long leg setting the swing in motion.  He pulled her to him, his arm over her shoulders as they both stared out at the mountains in the darkness. 

"How could you ever leave here?  This must be the most beautiful place on earth."

"You'll notice I didn't leave for long," he said with a yawn.

She snuggled close to him, her head on his shoulder.  "You're tired.  You should go on up to bed."  She hated the idea of him leaving her, but she needed to put his needs first.  That's what a good wife did.

"Not yet.  I'd rather spend time with you first."  He kissed the top of her head. 

She smiled up at him, pleased that he wanted a little more time as well.  "I like your house."

"Our house.  Me too.  It was a great place to grow up.  Someday, I'll show you all the hidden passageways where I played hide and seek with friends."

"Oh!  Hidden passageways?  Sounds like fun."

He turned to her more fully on the swing, pulling her closer.  "I want to kiss my wife."

She smiled.  "You've already kissed me twice today.  That's all you get."  Her eyes were twinkling with amusement.

"Oh really?  What if I grab you and kiss you anyway?"

"I'll have to scream and kick."

He chuckled.  "What good will that do?"

She shrugged.  "No idea, but it sounds like fun."  She turned so she was sitting sideways on the swing facing him.  "Or, I can make it easier for you."  She leaned toward him, her eyes on his.

He leaned down and caught her lips in a kiss, his tongue tracing the outline of her mouth.  His arms went around her, and he pulled her against him. 

She put her arms around his shoulders, her heart beating faster as their torsos met.  She clung to his broad shoulders, her lips parting for his kiss.

His hands roamed over her back, his tongue seeking hers.  After a moment, he came up for air, and to ask a question.  "What are the lines?"

"Lines?" she asked.

"You know, what lines can't I cross this week?"

"I—I don't know.  I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, if I wanted to pull you onto my lap, would that be all right?"  He caught her hips, and pulled her onto his lap, astride him.  They were touching from hip to torso.  "Is this against the rules?"

She blushed but shook her head.  "I don't think so.  If it becomes too much, I'll say something."

He nodded, pulling her head down for another kiss.  His hands stroked all over her back, one coming around to cup her breast.

She moaned softly against his lips.  His touch felt so good to her. 

His thumb found her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra and tank top.  It was already erect, so he toyed with it, wondering how she'd react if he pushed the fabric out of the way. 

They were both out of breath when he broke the kiss.  "I want to touch your skin, but I don't want to do anything you don't want.  May I unfasten your bra?"  It felt strange asking, but he didn't want to frighten her.  He hadn't expected her to allow the liberties he'd already received.

Savannah looked into his eyes for a moment, torn with indecision.  She wanted to feel him touching her.  She wanted it badly.  But if she let him touch her that way, would they be able to stop?  Finally she shook her head.  "Not tonight," she whispered, hating herself a little bit. 

He nodded, pulling her head down for another kiss.  He was glad she was honest with him about her feelings.  He'd been afraid she would agree just to make him happy.  This time when they kissed, he kept his hands on her back, trying to respect her feelings.

"I'm glad we're married," he finally told her, just hugging her to him. 

She rested her head on his shoulder, glad he wasn't angry with her for stopping him.  "We should sleep."

He nodded.  "We should.  I just don't want to let you go."

"I'll be here tomorrow."

He grinned.  "Forever, I hope."

"That's the plan."

*****

Early Sunday morning, Savannah heard Scott stirring, so she got up and showered quickly.  She wanted to make breakfast for him before he went out to do the chores that had to be done, even on Sunday.

She pulled on the same shorts and tank top she'd worn the night before, because she'd only packed three changes of clothes in her small carryon.  Hurrying down to the kitchen she mixed up pancake batter and fried up some bacon. 

He stopped in the kitchen on his way out to the barn.  "I just need to milk the cows and gather eggs this morning," he told her.  "My men will do the rest of the work today."

"Are we going to church?" she asked.

"Would you be all right if we waited 'til next week?"

"Definitely.  I didn't bring church clothes.  They should be here by next weekend, though." 

He stepped into the kitchen and pulled her against him, kissing her quickly.  "Good morning, wife."

She smiled.  "Good morning, husband!" 

After he'd gone outside, she poured the pancakes into the pan, watching them as they bubbled.  By the time he got back inside, she'd made a plateful.  She put a short stack on a plate for him and added some bacon.  "Do you want milk or coffee?" she asked.  She'd made coffee for herself, but she didn't know which he preferred.

"Coffee.  If it's before noon, that's all I drink."  He took a bite of the pancakes and smiled.  They were good.  "I have a confession to make."

"What's that?" she asked, setting coffee in front of him, and sitting beside him on a barstool with her own plate. 

"I'm not a morning person," he said with a yawn.  "I'd rather stay up all night than get up early."

She laughed.  "Me too.  I don't think the cows share your attitude though."

"They don't."  He sighed heavily.  "My men make fun of me because I carry around a thermos full of coffee all morning.  They know not to talk to me until I'm finished with it."

She shook her head with a smile.  "Sounds like they're smart!"

"They are!"  He grinned, taking her hand in his.  "I don't feel nearly as grumpy as usual this morning, though.  Waking up to a beautiful woman cooking my breakfast is something I could get used to."

"Oh good.  I was afraid you'd make a rule that I couldn't speak until noon or something."

"No, I like talking to you too much for that."

"What are we going to do today, since we're not going to church?" she asked.

He took a sip of his coffee, studying her.  "I thought I'd teach you to drive."

She made a face.  "Now?"

He nodded.  "If you want to get a job this summer, you need to learn quickly.  I'll teach you here on the ranch, and since they're private roads, you don't need a permit."