The Rancher's Wife. Lynda Trent

you regret the move?”

      “Not anymore. I can be my own person here and not have to answer to anyone.”

      She looked at him in amazement. “That’s almost exactly what I told myself not long ago!” She caught herself. “Of course it’s different for a man.”

      “You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like.”

      Elizabeth pushed the beans around on her plate. “We’ll have to see what happens. We don’t always get to do exactly what we want to do. Especially not if Robert shows up. I have obligations. Things are expected of me.” Her voice trailed off and she glanced at him. He was watching her in that oddly exciting way. Hastily she straightened and handed him the potatoes.

      “I already have some.” He seemed amused at her eagerness to change the subject.

      “So you do.” She put down the potatoes. “Is that the baby crying?”

      

      “No. I don’t hear a thing,”

      “I left her door open so I would know if she wakes up. I don’t want her to cry and me not hear her.”

      “You’re kind. I knew you would be.”

      “I don’t hold with letting babies any. Suppose it’s a weakness of mine—perhaps not having had one of my own. All they need is food or a hug or...” She bit off the rest of her sentence. Diapers weren’t a fit subject for the dinner table.

      “Consuela thought crying would make her lungs strong.”

      “I won’t let her cry. Not unless I can’t find how to make her happy. I never saw a child spoiled by being loved and treated with kindness, so if you don’t agree with that, it’s best that we clear the air now.”

      “Why are you so determined to argue with me?”

      She looked at him in surprise. “Is that what you think? I never meant to leave that impression. I’m not bad-tempered. Not at all. I...” She flushed with embarrassment. He was the one who was bad-tempered, and now the word lay between them.

      “Hold on. I didn’t mean it that way. You go off on tangents faster than any woman I’ve ever known.”

      “I talk too much. Robert is always telling me so. I’ll try to be more careful.” She sighed as she broke off a bit of corn bread from the wedge on her plate.

      “I like hearing conversation. Cal never makes a sound unless it’s necessary. It’s damned lonesome when no one is talking.” He caught himself. “I’m sorry. I should be watching my language. It’s been a long time since I had a conversation with a woman.”

      “I don’t mind,” she said honestly. What did it mean he hadn’t had a conversation with a woman in a long time? Celia hadn’t been gone so very long. Surely they talked before she died. Still, months of silence when you were used to having a wife about could seem like a longer time. “Sometimes Robert and his poker friends would turn the air blue. It doesn’t embarrass me.”

      “He allowed his friends to talk like that in front of you? Why would he do that? Why not go to a saloon where no one cared how anyone else was talking?”

      “He was of the opinion that the house was his and that I should adjust to it. My father would have agreed with him in principle, even though he hated Robert and would have cut out his own tongue before admitting that they saw eye to eye on anything.”

      “It sounds as if your life hasn’t exactly been a bed of roses, even before moving to Zeb’s sod hut.”

      “My parents had a nice house in Hannibal My father built it for my mother as a wedding gift.”

      “That’s the first time you’ve mentioned her.”

      “She died.”

      “I’m sorry. You must miss her.”

      “She never made much of a wave as she passed through life,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “Some people don’t, you know. They can live out their entire lives without others taking particular notice of them. She wanted me to be more like that. She said I would be happier if I could learn to be accepting of whatever came to me. But I can’t. I just can’t sit back and never express an opinion of my own.”

      “Neither can L Celia certainly wasn’t like that She wanted life to conform itself to her whims. She wasn’t always easy to live with.”

      Elizabeth frowned at him and pushed the bread plate in his direction

      “What did I say to upset you?” Brice asked.

      “How can you ask that? Celia is barely in her grave and you’re discussing her faults? I found her quite likable. We had a lot in common.”

      “Did you?” he asked in a cool tone.

      “Mr. Graham, I feel we must be honest with each other if we are to live under the same roof. I’m married and I came here only for the job and for the sake of the baby. You and I don’t have to like each other. Although I only saw Celia once, I considered her to be my friend and I’m loyal to her memory. No other relationship between us is possible.”

      “You’re assuming a great deal. It takes more than one visit to make a friendship. And, I assure you, Mary Kate’s well-being is my top priority.”

      “Celia was the first woman I had seen in months. I must insist you treat her memory with respect, at least in my presence.”

      “I knew her better than you did and you have no right to call me to task.”

      “I see.” Elizabeth stood and picked up her plate. “I think the less contact we have, the better it will be.”

      “I think you’re right.”

      She swept past him and finished her meal alone in the kitchen. It wasn’t the way she had intended the first meal to turn out, but she felt it was better to get everything out in the open from the beginning. Otherwise she might make a fool of herself.

      

      That night Brice awoke to hear Mary Kate fretting in her bed. Automatically he swung his feet out from under the cover. He had pulled on his pants and was halfway to the door before he was really awake. With a yawn he went out into the hall and down to the nursery door.

      At the doorway he stopped.

      Elizabeth was already there. The baby was in her arms and she had started to sing to her softly. She opened the window to get the bottle she had left there to stay cool. Her hair was loose and flowed down her back in thick waves to below her waist. Her gown was white and loose but the lamp light showed him tantalizing glimpses of her silhouette beneath the concealing fabric. She looked younger and more vulnerable than she had during the day.

      She turned to take the baby to the rocker, and Brice stepped back into the dark hallway before she could see him. He was wearing no shirt or shoes and he didn’t want to alarm or embarrass her. When he heard the sound of the rocker moving in pace to her song, he looked back around.

      Elizabeth was rocking and feeding the bottle to Mary Kate while she sang softly and smiled down at her. They made such a scene of domestic tranquillity that Brice felt emotion tighten his throat. As Elizabeth’s hair swayed with the rocker and undulated about her, he wondered if it could possibly be as soft as it looked. Certainly it was longer and thicker than he had guessed. Mary Kate reached up a pudgy arm and gathered a fistful of it and held on. Elizabeth smiled at her.

      Quietly Brice backed away from the room and retreated down the hall without making a sound. Once in his room, he closed the door and sat on the side of the bed. Maybe it had been a mistake to ask her to come here.

      At the time it had seemed only logical. He needed a woman to take care of the baby and the house; she needed a decent place to live. But it wasn’t working out so simply. She had made it plain at dinner that she didn’t like him and would prefer not to be around