‘‘But-’’
‘‘I didn’t add any buts when I helped her on her horse. It doesn’t take much to know that you’re ten times the woman she’ll ever be. China, or no china. Left- or righthanded.’’
He pulled her hand from his chest and held it tightly as he put the scrap of paper into her palm and curled both their fingers around it.
Kora smiled. ‘‘So we stay married and I can stay in the house?’’
He looked down at her with dark searching eyes. There was a stubbornness in him from the hardness about his jaw to the tightness of his lean frame.
‘‘We are married, truly married forever, as far as the world knows,’’ he corrected. ‘‘I’m never backing out, so you might as well unpack, Mrs. Winter McQuillen. The choice to end our agreement will be yours, not mine. As I said last night when I asked, be it six months or forever, I only plan to have one wife.’’
His words left her reeling. Kora knew life’s blow would be coming to knock her down again as it always had before, but for one moment she wanted to believe that what he said was true.
‘‘I can’t promise I’ll stay.’’ Kora studied this man who held her hand so tenderly. ‘‘I’ve never stayed anywhere long.’’
‘‘Stay as long as you can.’’ His voice sounded hoarse. ‘‘But I promise always if you choose. I’m not a man who goes back on his word.’’
‘‘But you haven’t even known me a day.’’ Kora moved an inch closer.
‘‘I know you love your family. I know you’re a hard worker.’’ Win cleared his throat and shifted. ‘‘And I know how I feel when you touch me.’’
Kora pulled her hand away and Win straightened. Suddenly neither could look at the other.
SEVEN
THEY WALKED BACK TO THE HOUSE WITHOUT ANOTHER word. Kora smiled at the warmth of the morning sun on her face, and the easy low sound the wind made in the grass. Everything on the ranch smelled fresh and clean, and untouched, as if God just made it this morning for them and no one had ever seen this land before today.
She slipped the paper into her pocket remembering what Winter had said to her. No one had ever made her feel special. His words had been choppy and hard for him to say, making them all the more powerful.
Winter also watched the horizon, only he appeared to be looking for something, not enjoying anything around him. The hardness in his eyes was back, and Kora couldn’t help but wonder if there had ever been a time when he’d cared or thought of anything except his ranch. Maybe Jamie was right, maybe he was dead inside with a stone for a heart. Maybe he’d only said what he did to make her stay.
He’d told her not to expect love. If Winter tried to be a good husband, that would be enough, more than she thought she’d ever have. Her mother used to say that a life has chapters in it and maybe this could be a quiet chapter for Kora. For the first time since she could remember, she wasn’t worried about how she’d keep food on the table tomorrow. For giving her that one peace, she owed Winter greatly.
‘‘I meant what I said about giving you the house.’’ She broke the silence.
‘‘I know you did,’’ he answered. His words were low, but his mood had turned dark.
Kora took a chance; it was time to learn about the demons in this man’s past. ‘‘What are you thinking?’’ It was a very personal thing to ask, and she regretted her curiosity.
Win’s eyes never left the horizon. ‘‘I was thinking, if trouble comes and I’m not here, run for the apple trees. You could hide there.’’
Kora watched him closely. ‘‘Do you always think of escape routes?’’
‘‘Just remember,’’ he answered in a tone that ended the discussion. ‘‘I’ll find you in the trees.’’
When she reached the top of the back porch steps, Kora turned, realizing Winter was no longer following her.
He stood in the dirt, his feet wide apart, his hand resting lightly on his Colt. ‘‘I’ve got things to do. It would be useless to go back to sleep now. You rest. I’ll be back by sundown.’’
Kora nodded, noticing how tired he looked for a man who thought sleep useless. They were doing it again, tiptoeing around each other as strangers do. Talking without talking.
‘‘Would you like me to make a pot of coffee to keep us both awake?’’ Kora grasped for something to say that sounded right. ‘‘I don’t think I can sleep any longer, either.’’
‘‘I’d appreciate that,’’ he said as he turned toward the barn. ‘‘I’ll come back for a cup after I saddle up.’’
Winter didn’t glance over his shoulder as he heard the back door open. Hurrying across the yard and into the barn, he saddled his horse in record time. He told himself he wasn’t in a hurry to get back to her. He cared nothing for the woman. He told himself no one would ever mean anything to him. Especially not someone who didn’t hold on to something that she’d been given. She’d offered to give the house back like it was nothing of importance to her. He’d made a fool of himself by mentioning that her touch affected him. Yet, he’d told her where to run if there was trouble. He hadn’t thought of an escape plan since he’d lost his family twenty years ago.
Logan asked if he’d be riding out soon and Winter snapped at the man. He guessed the boys were watching his movements from the bunkhouse kitchen, but he didn’t care. None of them would put his job on the line by saying a word. By the time Winter reached the porch once more, he was almost running.
When he stepped into the kitchen, she turned as though startled to see him. She looked so tiny. Like she’d snap in two if he held her tight. How could he have married a woman who didn’t even reach his shoulder? Mary Anna had been only a few inches shorter than him. Maybe that was why he’d always asked her to dance at the socials. Realizing he’d married a woman he probably would have never asked to dance bothered Winter. After all, marriage should take a little more thought than a reel. Only in his case, it hadn’t seemed to.
‘‘Coffee ready?’’ he asked in almost a yell.
‘‘Yes,’’ she said so softly he guessed he’d frightened her again.
Hell, he thought, she’s going to spend the next six months jumping every time I’m in the room.
They sat down across the kitchen table from each other with a pot and two mugs between them.
‘‘I forgot to ask you how you like your coffee,’’ she said as she poured.
‘‘Strong,’’ he answered, watching her closely. This is marriage, he thought. If she decided to stay, this was how it was going to be every morning for the rest of their lives, and already he couldn’t think of anything to say. It might prove a long, long lifetime. He tried to think of the kind of things he talked about with the saloon girls in town, or the mercantile owner’s wife, or even Mary Anna after he’d asked her to dance. Nothing he could think of sounded right.
Letting the first few swallows burn his throat, Winter decided he’d probably have little use for speech from now on. Kora seemed as quiet as her sister was chatty. He couldn’t imagine how two women from the same parentage could be so different. Jamie looked as if she’d never worn a dress, and he guessed Kora was always a lady.
Finally she broke the silence. ‘‘I like a little sugar in mine.’’
For a second her words made no sense, for he’d forgotten all about the coffee. She was trying to help make it easier, he guessed. The least he could do was try also. ‘‘In a china cup?’’
Kora smiled. ‘‘No, I’ve always like the feel of a mug in my hands. That way the coffee warms my fingers.’’ She stared down at the cup.
That’s it, he thought. That’s as far as the conversation will go. What else could he say? They might be married, but he didn’t feel he knew her well enough to comment on her hands now hugging the cup, or ask her why she’d touched him last night. Or why she’d chosen to sleep in the attic on the floor and not in one of the beds downstairs. Or why she was already dressed this morning. Shouldn’t she have been in her nightclothes? He wasn’t about to inquire.