Caleb Page 3
“Lillian, wait.” He wrapped the reins around the dash rail and hopped down. He trudged through the snow to catch her, grabbing her hand. She was having none of it, and tugged her hand free and stumbled. He seized her arm to keep her from falling, but she yanked it from his grip and continued on her way.
“Wait.”
She ignored him and, chin up, plodded along.
He stood spread-legged, his hands on his hips. “If you don’t want to talk to me that’s fine, but you’re walking in the wrong direction.”
She stopped so fast she almost plowed into the ground head first.
He pointed more to the west. “My house is over that way. Beyond the hill.”
“Thank you.” She dipped her head in acknowledgment and turned on her heel to continue on, as if it were a nice, balmy spring day, and they were out for an evening stroll.
“It’s too cold and too far for you to walk.”
“I’ll be just fine, thank you.”
Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms and, with a whole lot of screeching on her part, he stomped to the sleigh and tossed her in none too gracefully.
Lillian took in a deep breath and attempted to pull herself together. She swallowed convulsively, not wanting Caleb to see her tears. This had been a disaster since they’d arrived at the ranch yesterday.
How many times would she be rejected and humiliated by a man? She thought she’d learned her lesson when Sydney Drummond—the snake—had run out on her when she was eighteen and told him she feared their few fumbling, embarrassing session of lovemaking had resulted in pregnancy. It had been a false alarm, but he hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out.
Now her husband accused her of having virginal senses. Lord, what would he do when he learned she was no longer a virgin? Would he pack her up and return her to North Grove? She couldn’t go back there. Not since her beau of five years—another snake—had run off with that snip of a girl and married her.
Fred Dillon had been telling Lillian for five years that his mama needed to be eased into the idea of him being married, but they would indeed be wedded one day. She’d even had her wedding dress sitting in her closet for three of those five years.
Well, it sure hadn’t taken him long to forget all about his delicate mama, and run off with sweet, whimpering, blue-eyed Susan Bolling a mere month after the tart had sashayed into town. Lillian had spent the evening after she’d heard the news about the scandalous elopement cutting her unused wedding dress into pieces before feeding the scraps into the fireplace.
No sooner had the train pulled away from the Chicago station early yesterday morning than she’d second guessed her decision to become a mail order bride. The chatter of the other women—now her sisters-in-law—had distracted her from the dawning realization that she’d made a terrible mistake. Then discovering Mrs. Fraser had written the agency on behalf of her sons, and without their permission, had convinced her to turn right around.
Except the snow forced them to have a hurry-up wedding, and here she was stuck with a man who obviously loathed her. As the vehicle slid over the snow-packed ground, said man was now staring straight ahead trying his best to pretend he hadn’t just tossed insults at her. She’d be darn sure not to let him know how much he’d hurt her with his comments. Or how off the mark he’d been with that virginal state reference.
The sleigh climbed the small rise, and she was treated to a welcomed sight. In the moonlight, a small, but cozy house stood downhill, surrounded by several large trees. The structure had a fresh coat of pale yellow paint, with deep blue shutters and trim. Aside from that, it didn’t take much to surmise no woman lived there.
There was no evidence of a clothes line, and no space in the back that would have been a kitchen garden. No curtains on the windows, and the lack of any type of coziness on the front porch announced this was a bachelor’s home.
But with a little bit of work and some effort on Caleb’s part, it could be a very comfortable house for the two of them. Despite her annoyance with the man, she turned and smiled at him. “It’s very nice. More than I expected.”
His bright smile in return caused a fluttering in her stomach and weakness in her knees. Lord, he was a good looking man. Dark blond hair, deep blue eyes and a smile that she’d just learned could wreak havoc with her senses. She scowled. Her virginal senses.
The sleigh came to a halt and Caleb sat back, his arm resting on the edge of the seat. “I built the place myself with the help of my brothers. I wanted to be away from the main house. Privacy. That way I could do what I want without everyone knowing my business.”
Dare she ask this not-known-to-her man what it was he did that he needed privacy and no one else’s knowledge? A kernel of fear settled in her stomach.
“What do you do that you need to hide it from your family? I hope nothing illegal.” The startled look on his face and the tightening of his lips told her that had not been a question she should have asked.
He scowled. “If I decide to entertain friends, I like to have a place where I can.” He wrapped the reins around the rail and climbed down. This time she waited for him to assist her. No point in falling in the snow and making a fool of herself again.
They walked up to the front door. Caleb opened it, and waved her in.
She stood tapping her foot. “Aren’t you going to carry me over the threshold?”
Already in the house, he turned back. “What?”
“Carry me over the threshold. It’s what new husbands do.”
Caleb removed his snow covered hat and slapped it against his leg, sprinkles of water and slush scattering everywhere. “That’s stupid. Unless your leg is broken, you can walk through.”
She fisted her hands at her side. “It’s a custom.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” She waved her hand around. “I think it has something to do with ages ago when a man kidnapped his bride so he carried her over the threshold because she was considered ‘his’ if she was in his house.”
“And is that something you read in your library?”
“I don’t know where I heard it, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is, it’s a custom.”
“I carried you to the sleigh kicking and screaming. Consider yourself kidnapped. I’ve had enough for one day.” He walked away and left her standing at the door. “I’m going to see to the horses.”
Dammit!
Now he had her cussing. She entered the house and slammed the door. A loud thump told her snow had fallen from the roof and landed on the doorstep. It was too bad he hadn’t been standing under it. The man was the most annoying, frustrating, rude person she’d ever encountered.
And she was married to him!
Caleb stomped through the snow grumbling to himself. He unharnessed the horses and led them to the small stable behind his house. Pardon, now their house. The only thing keeping him from fighting the blizzard and heading into town was the idea of turning all the furor in that fiery woman into the right type of passion. If it could even be done. She had a whole lot of temper, but she was cold as a witch’s tit to him. However, he’d had enough experience with the ladies. If anyone could thaw her out, it was Caleb Fraser.
When he re-entered the house, Lillian stood in the main room, looking around the space as if she had awoken from a bad dream and found herself in hell.
Feeling no more than a touch guilty at his rudeness, he didn’t say a word, but marched past her into the bedroom. He toed off his soaking wet boots and peeled his dripping socks from his feet. A flip of his belt, a quick unbuttoning, and his pants hit the floor.
He was pulling his shirt off when Miss High and Mighty entered the bedroom and gasped. “What are you doing?”
She was still bundled up from the cold, her hand fisting the front of her coat as if she expected him to tear it off and toss her on the bed.
In his mood, he might just do that. “Getting ready for bed. It’s what I do every night at this time.”
r /> “Then where will I sleep?”
Of all the inane things he’d heard from her today, this was the best. “What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly what I said. Where do I sleep?”
“Do you not see a bed in the middle of this room? Or are your eyes ruined from all that reading?”
She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “All right. Then I guess the question is, where will you sleep?”
“Goddammit, woman, what the hell are you jawing about this time?”
She stomped her foot. “Stop this cussing. Right now.”
He took a deep breath. The situation was heading into ridiculous territory. At this rate they would be divorced before the marriage was a day old. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually use that kind of language in front of a lady. You have my apologies.”
She gave him a curt nod which encouraged him enough to take a hard swallow and continue. “We will both sleep in the bed right here in this room.”
“No.”
Oh, Lord. He tried, truly he did. But his head was about to explode. “What do you mean, dear wife?”
“I mean, dear husband, I have no intention of sleeping with you until we become better acquainted. Much better acquainted.”
With those words she opened the door wide and waved him out. “Good night, Mr. Fraser. I will see you in the morning.”
Chapter Two
Lillian let out a breath and flopped onto the bed. She couldn’t believe what she’d just done. She’d thrown the man out of his own bedroom. Panic would do that to a woman. Until she found the right time to tell Caleb his blushing bride was no vestal virgin, she had to keep him from exercising his husbandly rights.
Based on remarks his brothers had made that were not intended for her ears, she surmised her husband was a bit of a skirt chaser. Nevertheless, rarely did men allow the same freedom in women. Not that she was any sort of Jezebel, but the lack of her virginity could encourage Caleb to do what she feared he was already wont to do. Send her packing.
There was nothing to go back to. She’d quit her job, sold her little house and planned to start a new life away from the mocking and pitying eyes of the citizens of North Grove, Illinois. She unbuttoned her coat and looked around the sparse area. A typical unmarried man’s room. Clothes were strewn about the space, the bed was rumpled, and pieces of cloth had been tacked over the window in place of curtains.
Only three hooks were anchored into the wall, all of them in use. Dingy jeans, a mud splattered shirt and what looked like a work jacket. She fingered the items, then grimaced as she rubbed her fingers on her coat.
Once she was down to her petticoat and chemise she remembered she’d left her belongings at the main house. If she slept in her petticoats, her legs would be tangled in no time. Glancing quickly at the door, she slid the garment down and jumped into bed wearing only her chemise and drawers, yanking the covers up.
She wiggled her body. At least the bed was comfortable. A thought flew into her head that had her hopping up, dancing on the cold floor. If Caleb was such a ladies’ man, he no doubt brought women to this house. This room. This very bed.
Argh!
That was very likely the reason he needed his ‘privacy.’ She ran her palms up and down her arms, studying the bed. How many other women had lain there? Before she even thought about it, she tore off the covers and sheet and tossed them onto the floor in the corner. Retrieving her clothing from where she’d laid it over a chair near the door, she pulled everything back on. Including her shoes.
She curled into a ball and closed her eyes. Her wedding night.
Ever since Sydney had relieved her of her virginity she’d known one day this dilemma would arise. Except since she’d planned on marrying Fred, and had known him for so long, explaining her situation hadn’t seem so terrible.
She sighed. Fred Dillon was no Caleb Fraser.
Caleb cussed a blue streak, satisfied that his voice was loud enough for the woman in his bedroom to hear. For the second night in a row he was curled up on the floor near his fireplace while a warm, soft woman occupied his bed. First his brothers denied him Desiree, and now his wife denied him his marital rights.
He shifted, trying to get comfortable. It would serve that woman in the other room right if he trudged over to the foreman’s house and took what Desiree had to offer. He flipped onto his back and crossed his arms over his chest, linking his fingers.
It troubled him to realize that despite being saddled with an unwanted wife, he was not a man who took his marriage vows lightly. One very important reason why he didn’t want to take the damn vow in the first place.
He could hear Lillian moving around in the bedroom. Right now he should be lying in his bed watching her take off that high-necked, long-sleeve dress. Then her petticoat. He grew warm and hard imagining those full breasts, tiny waist, and generous hips a man could hang onto while he slid into her warmth.
His ears perked up at the sound of the mattress springs as she crawled into bed, getting settled.
It was a hell of a wedding night.
Barely a couple of hours had passed when he was startled awake by a thump. His eyes flew open. Did the sound come from the bedroom? Had Lillian fallen out of bed? He listened for a minute, then heard another thump. It came from the front door. He crawled to his knees and stood, already sore from his position on the floor.
A blast of cold air erased any remnants of sleep as he opened the door.
“Let me in, I’m freezing!”
“Desiree?” He looked behind him to be sure Lillian hadn’t heard the noise and wandered out to investigate. Then he stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him. The moonlight shone on the snow casting the entire area in enough light that it could have been mid-morning. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m lonely.” Desiree pouted. “But now I’m freezing. Open the door so I can warm up.”
“You can’t come in, my wife is here.”
“Caleb! I’m freezing.”
He ran his hand down his face. What the hell was he to do now? Desiree stood shivering, her plump, kissable lips were blue, and the tip of her nose was a bright red.
“All right. Just so you can warm up. But you have to be quiet. I don’t want my wife to wake up and find you here.”
She nodded and whispered, “I’ll be very quiet, but open the door, Caleb.”
Caleb peeked around the door. With Lillian nowhere in sight, he eased the portal open and waved Desiree in. She immediately ran to the fireplace, where he’d banked the fire before he attempted to sleep. Desiree knelt and rubbed her hands over the scant warmth. “Can you add some coal to make it warmer in here?”
“Geez, Desiree. What the hell made you come here?”
She sat back on her heels. “I told you, I was lonely.” She stood and walked to him, her hips swaying in a delectable, tempting manner. Running her fingers up his arm, she said, “I was supposed to spend a couple of days with you. Lord knows how many times you asked.”
Caleb stepped back, away from temptation. “I know, but things have changed.”
She stomped her foot. “I don’t see why the silly little girl your mama brought here for you should make a difference.”
“The difference is Lillian is now my wife. Even if it was my mama’s idea, the fact remains that I’m just not free to . . .”
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ll bet your wife can’t make you feel as good as I can.” Her hips moved suggestively against his groin
Lord, she was a temptation. He wanted nothing more than to drag her to the floor and thrust himself into her. It hadn’t been his idea to get married, and his wife had tossed him out of his own bedroom to sleep by himself on the floor. Didn’t he deserve a little comfort from a warm, willing woman?
He closed his eyes and removed her hands from his neck. “No, Desiree.”
She stomped over to a chair and plopped down, crossing her arms under her breasts. “Fine. But
I’m not walking all the way back to your foreman’s house in that cold. I’m staying right here until I warm up. And if you make me leave, Caleb Fraser, you’re no gentleman.”
“Caleb?” Lillian’s voice came from the other side of the bedroom door.
Caleb grabbed Desiree by the hand and dragged her into the kitchen. “Stay here.”
He hurried to the bedroom door and opened it. “What?”
Lillian sat up in the bed, still wearing all her clothes. Like any good virgin on her wedding night. “Did I hear voices out there?”
“Voices? Of course not.” He snapped his fingers. “It must’ve been me you heard. I talk in my sleep sometimes.”
“Oh. It sounded like more than one person.” She laid back down and rolled over, her back facing him.
He breathed a sigh of relief and eased the door closed. Turning around, he walked right into Desiree. “I thought I told you to stay in the kitchen?” he whispered.
“Why is your wife sleeping in the bedroom, and you’re not?” At least she had the wherewithal to whisper back.
“Who’s to say I’m not sleeping in the bedroom?”
She eyed the blanket and pillow in the corner by the fireplace, then turned to him with a smirk.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but my wife is a delicate woman with ladylike sensibilities.”
“In other words, she ordered you out of her bed.”
Caleb sighed. “Come, I’ll hitch up the horse and drive you back to Pete’s house.”
“No. I’m still too cold.” She wandered over to the fireplace, holding her hands over the embers. “You got any whiskey?”
“Desiree, this isn’t a party. My new wife is in the next room sleeping, and I need to get to sleep myself if I’m going to get any work done in the morning.”
Desiree huffed. “I’m sure if your wife hadn’t banished you from her bed you’d be only too happy to give up a night’s sleep.”
Annoyance flooded him at the truth of her words. He would have been more than happy to spend the night making love over and over to Lillian. Then he could have endured any resulting fatigue with fond memories.