The Rancher's Wife. Lynda Trent

remembered every word Elizabeth had said and how she had looked when she said it. The brief visit had told him a lot about her. She was conscientious or she wouldn’t have cared if Mary Kate woke up alone, and she appreciated a good buggy when she saw one. And she wasn’t that fond of her husband.

      Brice found himself dwelling on that information. He couldn’t blame her for feeling the way she did about her husband. The man was a bastard for leaving her in a situation like that. But she was still married, whether she liked the man or not. Brice had to remember that. He also had to remember she was no happier in the Territory than Celia had been.

      He was lonely. He knew that all too well. Even before Celia had died, he had been lonely. That wasn’t hard to do in the house with a woman like Celia. What he had taken for shyness when he was courting her had burned out to be mere shallowness. Her delicate health that had stirred him to such protectiveness had been an irritation when she used it as a weapon to keep him at a distance. He was wiser now and more wary, but he was also damned lonely for a woman’s company.

      He worked the strap into place and buckled it. Finished at last! For a while there he had thought the harness would win the struggle.

      “I’m taking Partner out for a ride,” Cal said as he tossed a blanket and saddle over the animal’s back. Partner flicked his ears back in protest and lifted a back hoof as if considering a kick to Cal’s leg. Cal slapped him on the flank and Partner put his hoof back on the ground.

      “I’ll see you in a day or so.” Brice grinned at Cal. It was a standing joke between them. Cal broke horses by saddling them and riding out onto the range. He came home when the horse learned to obey bridle signals and not before. It was the easiest and quickest way to successfully train one.

      “I’ll be back before dark,” Cal assured him as he tugged on the saddle cinch.

      “I wouldn’t put money on it. The day is pretty well gone.”

      Cal responded with another guttural sound. This time the utterance seemed to mean he disagreed. He led the horse outside before mounting.

      As soon as he was in the saddle, Partner flattened his ears and tried to get his head down to buck. Pulling up on the reins, Cal held the horse’s head firmly up. Partner lunged forward, and by the time they topped the hill, he was running full out.

      Brice laughed softly to himself. The horse couldn’t throw Cal, and one way or another, Partner would know something about reining before he saw the barn again. Cal was kind to animals—but he was more stubborn than they were.

      

      Mary Kate was an easy baby to tend. Elizabeth laid two kitchen chairs on their sides in one corner of the kitchen to form a pen of sorts and put the baby there with an assortment of wooden spoons to play with until supper was prepared. Elizabeth had to remind herself over and over not to become too attached to the baby or the house because she had no intention of staying. if Robert returned, he would certainly insist that she go back to the sod hut. If he didn’t, she would go back home to her father and hope he would forgive her for leaving with Robert.

      She also couldn’t get too attached to Brice. That was a different matter altogether and a far more difficult one. She clearly remembered that Celia had said he was cruel to her, no matter what his attitude toward Elizabeth might be. After living with her father and Robert, Elizabeth found cruelty easy to believe of any man. Elizabeth always seemed to be drawn to the men who were bad for her. Even if she were free, she would do well to avoid an entanglement with Brice. And having Mary Kate just a few feet away was a constant reminder that Brice had only been a widower for a short while.

      When supper was ready and staying warm in the brick warming oven, she made a puree of potatoes mixed with juice from the ham for the baby. Elizabeth had older cousins with infants and she had known how to care for babies for years. Her father had often sent her to stay with cousins for months at a time to help care for their children. Without her mother’s milk, it was important for Mary Kate to eat food as soon as possible.

      She held Mary Kate in her lap and slowly fed her spoonfuls of food. The baby grabbed at the spoon and gulped as if she hadn’t eaten in a week. Elizabeth laughed. “You’re a greedy little one, aren’t you? That’s good. You go for everything you want in life and don’t let anyone hold you back.”

      Mary Kate gurgled happily and potatoes rolled down her dimpled chin.

      When she had eaten all she wanted, Elizabeth changed her into a clean gown and diaper and rocked her as she fed her a bottle of milk. Mary Kate gazed up at her as she drank the milk, occasionally giving her a toothless grin that dribbled milk onto her cheek. Elizabeth felt a tug of pure love that touched something deep inside her.

      The baby soon fell asleep and Elizabeth put her in her bed. As she pulled the quilt over the baby, she touched the soft golden down on Mary Kate’s head. Nothing was softer than a baby, she decided. Mary Kate sighed and snuggled into the familiar warmth of her quilt Elizabeth put a stuffed bear in the bed so that Mary Kate wouldn’t be lonely when she woke up, then went downstairs.

      By the time she had the table set, she heard Brice washing up at the pump on the porch. When he came inside, his hair was damp from the water. He stopped when he saw her bending over the spider on the hearth to stir the beans. She looked back at him and smiled. “Ready to eat?”

      “I’ll run up and change my shirt.” He backed toward the inside door. “I won’t be but a minute.”

      “There’s no rush,” She started ladling the beans into a serving bowl She hadn’t cooked much because she wasn’t used to having many choices in what she ate. Even during the better times, she and Robert rarely could afford more than a meat and one other dish. Ham, beans, potatoes and corn bread were like a feast to her. She had even baked some of the dried apples into a pie. Would he think she was wasteful? She wanted to keep this job. It was her ticket back to civilization.

      When she heard Brice coming down the stairs, she lit the other two lamps that made the dining room bright enough for the meal. To save lamp oil she had set the table in the dimmest light possible. She brought in the steaming bowls and put them nearest the head of the table where she assumed he would eat. Although she wasn’t sure she was supposed to join him, she had put her plate to one side.

      “Is this all right?” she asked when he came into the room. “I can eat in the kitchen if you’d rather.”

      He gave her a long look. “No, I want you to eat with me. You aren’t a servant, Eliz—Mrs. Parkins. I never meant that you should feel you are one.”

      She felt the blush rising again. “I just didn’t know. In my father’s house only the family eat at the dining room table. I didn’t want you to think I was overstepping my boundaries.”

      He held her chair and she slid into it hastily. Robert had never once done that for her. He sat at the end of the table and said, “This looks wonderful!”

      Elizabeth smiled but didn’t meet his eyes. “I also made an apple pie. I know it’s extravagant, but I felt...I wasn’t sure if you like desserts.”

      “You can make whatever you please. I’m not picky. Just hungry.”

      She passed him the corn bread. “Mary Kate has been an angel I made her a place to play in the kitchen and she was no trouble at all. She’s upstairs asleep,” she added.

      “Do you have brothers or sisters?” he asked.

      “No, I was an only child. I have many cousins, though. That’s where I learned how to care for babies. I had hoped to have a large family, but apparently that won’t be.”

      “You’re young. They may still come.” He watched her for a moment but gave no clue as to what he was thinking. “Beans?”

      “Thank you.” She put some on her plate and left the bowl where he could reach it for seconds. She was trying so hard to do everything perfectly that she was barely allowing herself to breathe. “You said you have a brother. Are there others?”

      “No.