Short Straw Bride (15 page)

W
hen Eleanor opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the flowers. They were lying on the pillow next to her. She squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again. The flowers were still there. When she slid one hand out from under the covers to touch them, she half expected to find they were figments of her imagination, but the coarse stems were solid beneath her fingertips.

Luke.

She sat up abruptly and looked around the room, but she was alone. He’d brought the small bouquet in and left it lying on the pillow for her to find when she woke. The idea that he’d been in the room, perhaps stood by the bed watching her sleep, made Eleanor’s heart beat a little faster. Had he been tempted to wake her, maybe with a kiss? She felt a small twinge of something that could have been—
but certainly wasn’t—disappointment that he hadn’t done just that.

She picked up the bouquet and lifted it to her nose. It had a herbal, slightly medicinal smell. Eleanor thought it was wonderful. Her mouth curved and tears stung her eyes.

Luke had brought her flowers.

Luke saw the flowers as soon as he came in for breakfast. Eleanor had put them in his mother’s cut glass vase and set them on the windowsill. He remembered his mother using that same vase, filling it with roses from her gardens and setting it on a mahogany sideboard in the dining room of the big old house back before the war. The ragtag bunch of wildflowers looked pathetic in comparison to that memory, and Luke winced. Maybe the flowers hadn’t been such a good idea. He’d probably just reinforced Eleanor’s annoyance with him.

But when Eleanor turned away from the stove and saw him, her face softened in a shy smile and there was no mistaking the warmth in her eyes. Luke felt something loosen in his chest, a tightness he hadn’t even realized was there until it began to ease. He’d missed that smile, missed seeing it turned in his direction. She looked as if she was about to speak but, if so, she changed her mind when Daniel entered the kitchen behind him.

“Breakfast’s ready,” was all she said as she turned back to the stove and began dishing up the food.

Luke took his place at the table, his eyes lingering on the soft curves of his wife’s body. She was wearing a plain dress in a warm shade of golden brown. It covered her from throat to toes and couldn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, be called seductive. But in his mind’s eye Luke saw her the way she’d looked this morning when he’d crept into their bedroom to leave the flowers on the pillow.

Her face softly flushed with sleep and the lush curves of her figure outlined beneath the covers, she’d looked like temptation personified. His fingers had itched to loosen the heavy braid that confined her dark hair, and it had taken every ounce of self-control at his command to resist the urge to lift the covers and slide into bed next to her, to wake her with a kiss. His instincts told him that she wouldn’t have resisted but he’d learned something of his bride’s stubborn pride these past couple of weeks and he knew that, while she might have given in to him, she’d have bitterly resented it—and him. He wanted an end to this war between them, not a new battleground, so he’d turned and walked away, leaving her in her solitary bed.

Breakfast was normally a quiet meal, and this morning was no exception. The cowboys cooked their own breakfast in the bunkhouse, so it was just family in the big kitchen. Since the night Eleanor had found out about him and Daniel drawing straws, the meal had generally been marked by hot food and a chilly atmosphere. Luke knew it wasn’t his imagination that there was a definite warming in the air, a warming that had nothing to do with the cast-iron stove that radiated heat into the room.

Several times he was aware of Eleanor sliding quick glances in his direction, glances that did not come with the rapier edge most of her looks had held lately. If he’d known a few flowers would have such an effect, he’d have picked her a washtub full, Luke thought, feeling a little smug. He finished his bacon and eggs, enjoying the meal more than he had any in recent weeks. Things were definitely looking up.

“Could I speak to you a minute?” Eleanor’s voice stopped him on his way out of the kitchen.

Daniel glanced from his brother to his sister-in-law, one eyebrow raised in silent question. It was the first time in two weeks that Eleanor had shown any desire to spend a moment more than she had to with Luke. Luke caught his eye and gave him a look that promised severe—and painful—retribution if
he said anything. Daniel’s mouth quirked and Luke could see him almost visibly swallowing whatever he’d been about to say.

“Breakfast was real fine, Eleanor.” Daniel pushed open the door and went out, slapping his hat on his head as he walked down the steps.

His departure left a pool of silence in the kitchen. The room was filled with the smell of bacon and biscuits. Heat radiated from the big iron stove, comforting in the chill dawn hours. Crisp muslin curtains hung at the windows, pushed open now to show the pale gold of first light spreading across the prairies.

Luke was struck again by how much things had changed since he’d married Eleanor. A few weeks ago this room had been more nearly a pigsty than a kitchen. She’d worked hard, making the house into home. If a little bit of courtship made her happy, maybe it wasn’t too much to ask.

“I wanted to thank you for the flowers. They’re very pretty.” Her smile was warm but held a touch of wariness that made Luke wonder if she thought that he might be expecting a reward in exchange for the bouquet—like maybe an invitation to return to their bed. The fact that the thought
had
crossed his mind made Luke feel a little guilty and put a gruff edge on his voice.

“They’re not much.”

“They’re wonderful!” Eleanor’s quick defense of the small gift added to his guilt. “No one’s ever given me flowers before,” she added with a shy smile. “Thank you, Luke.”

“You’re welcome.” They stood there looking at each other for a moment, the air full of things unsaid. It was Luke who broke the silence. “I’ll see you later.” He smiled at her and then pushed open the door and stepped outside.

His smile lingered as he strode across the ranch yard. A little time spent courting his wife was a small enough price to pay for putting a smile back on her face. If he played his cards right, it wouldn’t take him long to convince her to forget about the broom straws that had caused all this trouble. A few more days and he’d be back where he belonged—in his own bed with a warm and willing Eleanor beside him.

“I can’t believe you paid that kid two bits for that mangy hunk of fur.” Daniel shot a disgusted look at the small basket Luke had tied to the saddlehorn. The plaintive mews emanating from the basket made it clear that the occupant was no happier about the situation than Daniel was.

“It’s for Eleanor,” Luke told him, not for the first time. “Women like cats.”

“They can have ‘em.” Daniel pulled the makings out of his pocket and began rolling a cigarette. “Nasty, sneaky critters with claws the size of daggers.”

“The whole damn kitten isn’t any bigger than a table knife,” Luke noted. “I don’t think you have to fear for your life just yet.”

“Just you wait.” Daniel ran his tongue along the edge of the paper and sealed the cigarette with a deft roll of his fingers. He gave the basket a dark look as he set a match to the tip of his smoke. “It’ll grow.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“I used to see a widow woman who had a whole houseful of the things. There was one—a huge white critter with claws a yard long and a yowl that’d raise the dead—that hated me. Used to lie in wait and then jump out at me and sink its claws into anything handy. I had nightmares about that cat.”

Luke’s unsympathetic bark of laughter echoed across the prairie and earned him a sour look from his brother.

“You can laugh, but I’ve got scars from that thing. Haven’t been able to abide cats ever since.”

“I noticed the widow Sinclair bought a kitten,” Luke said, sliding Daniel a look of sly malice.
“Maybe widows have a particular fondness for cats.”

Daniel grunted, narrowing his eyes against the smoke and looking out toward the horizon.

“Too bad they don’t all share a fondness for you. Letty Sinclair doesn’t seem bowled over by your charms.”

“It’s those damned straws we drew,” Daniel snapped. “Your wife has her all het up about it. It didn’t have a thing to do with her! Hell, it didn’t even have anything to do with Eleanor.”

“Women have a different take on things,” Luke said, glancing down at the basket. The kitten was the latest step in his campaign to soothe his bride’s temper. The flowers had been such a success that he’d been at a loss about what to follow up with. Though the atmosphere between them had been distinctly warmer for the past two days, Eleanor hadn’t shown any inclination to invite him back into their bed. Obviously he needed something with which to follow up the posies. The kitten was the perfect choice. What woman could resist a kitten?

“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be trying to bribe your wife to let you back into your own house,” Daniel said, glaring at the basket as if its occupant was somehow to blame for the situation.

“I’m not bribing her.” But Luke was aware that there was an uncomfortable element of truth in his brother’s accusation. He liked to think of the flowers and the kitten more as peace offerings than bribes. And what difference did it make what they were as long as it made Eleanor happy and persuaded her to forget all about that miserable broom straw?

“Looks like a bribe to me,” Daniel said.

“Seems to me that it might not hurt you to watch and learn a little from your older brother. Unless you like having Letty Sinclair glare holes in your back.”

“I don’t much care what she does,” Daniel said with studied indifference. “There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

“I haven’t noticed you looking at any of those other fish the way you look at her.”

Daniel shrugged. “She’s a pretty woman.”

“I hear tell Andrew Webb thinks so, too,” Luke said casually.

“That stick?” Daniel snorted his contempt of the storekeeper. “She wouldn’t look twice at him.”

“Maybe not, but I wouldn’t bet on it. He’s got a solid business, and a widower with four kids is the sort of thing that’s inclined to fill a woman’s heart with all kinds of maternal urges.” Luke shook his
head, narrowing his eyes as he looked out across the prairie. “No telling what a woman might do if she thinks there’s kids that need taking care of.”

“She wouldn’t have him, kids or no.” But Daniel’s tone was less sure than his words.

“Probably not,” Luke agreed after letting the silence stretch long enough to convey his doubts. “Still, those kids are a powerful draw.”

He slanted his brother a quick sideways glance, barely restraining a whoop of laughter at the set of Daniel’s jaw. Just as he’d thought, his little brother had it bad for the widow Sinclair. And, from the way she’d all but snubbed him in town today, Daniel had his work cut out if he was planning on making any progress in that direction.

“She’d never have Webb,” Daniel said again, more forcefully.

“Of course not,” Luke agreed. As far as he knew, Letty Sinclair didn’t have anything more than a nodding acquaintance with Webb. But he provided a handy prod. It was the least Daniel deserved for causing him so much trouble. And if Daniel took a dislike to the skinny little storekeeper it was the least Webb deserved for the proprietary looks he’d given Eleanor before their marriage. Not to mention selling her that god-awful
hat. He still hadn’t figured out a way to get rid of the wretched thing.

But he could worry about the hat later. Right now he needed to concentrate on persuading Eleanor to forget that damned straw. The kitten was the next step in that particular campaign.

“A kitten! Oh, Luke, thank you!” Eleanor cradled the tiny ball of gray fur between her hands as she smiled up at her husband, her eyes sparkling with pleasure.

“I thought she might be good company,” he said, stroking the kitten’s head with one finger.

“She’s adorable.” Eleanor felt as if her heart was literally swelling with joy and she had to blink against the sting of happy tears. “It’s the most wonderful present anyone’s ever given me.”

On an impulse she rose on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to Luke’s mouth. She’d intended to simply brush her lips against his, but he moved automatically to steady her, setting his hands on her hips, and the feel of his mouth tantalized her into lingering. He tasted of smoke and coffee and tobacco. The scent of sunshine and horse clung to him—warm, masculine smells that reminded her of hungers she’d been doing her best to pretend she didn’t feel. With her hands full of kitten she couldn’t push him away, even if she’d wanted to, and the sudden
weakness of her knees made stepping back an impossible option.

Luke tasted her surrender and deepened the kiss, his tongue coming out to stroke the fullness of her bottom lip, coaxing her to let him inside. He could have her right here and now, he thought as her mouth opened for him. No more nights in the barn. No more crawling around on the damned prairie looking for flowers or paying small robber barons to part with kittens. He could end it all right here. She wanted him. He could feel it in the yielding curve of her body, taste it in the soft surrender of her mouth. If he carried her upstairs right now, she wouldn’t offer so much as a whisper of protest.

Only she’d hate him for it.

Luke shut out the warning voice that insisted that he was about to take one step forward and two back. He drew Eleanor closer, sliding his foot between hers and shifting his hands so that his fingers cupped the fullness of her bottom. She gasped, the sound muffled against his mouth, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her mouth softened even more, her tongue meeting his with a shy hunger that made Luke’s body harden with need.

It was the kitten, still cradled in Eleanor’s hands, who put an end to the moment. She’d been willing to tolerate close quarters, but when Luke slid his
hand up Eleanor’s back, pressing her closer to him, the quarters went from close to downright confining and the kitten’s patience came to an abrupt end. With a shrill mew of annoyance she sank her claws into the nearest surface, which just happened to be Luke’s shirtfront.