Читать книгу The Rancher's Wife - Lynda Trent - Страница 11

Chapter Four

By the time Elizabeth had been at the ranch for two months, she found herself actually enjoying living there. Brice had sent Cal into Glory to look for Robert, but he had been unable to find him. A few people remembered seeing him months before yet no one had any idea where he might have gone. Elizabeth had taken the news with an outward show of calm but Robert’s disappearance only cemented her inner conclusion that he had deserted her and never intended to return at all.

Mary Kate now knew Elizabeth well and considered her to be her own personal possession. Her small face would light up as soon as Elizabeth came into the room and she’d hold up her hands with an angelic smile on her face to signal that she wanted to be picked up and carried. Elizabeth loved the baby as much as she would have if Mary Kate had been her own child.

Brice was a larger part of Elizabeth’s life than she would have preferred. Because she considered it part of her job, she planned her day around those times when he would appear for meals, and centered the menus around his likes and dislikes. He still had shown no sign of cruelty, but Elizabeth was certain he was capable of it. As were all the men she had known well. She had to remind herself constantly that Celia had had no reason to lie about it and that she mustn’t read more into his kindnesses than might be true.

After supper Brice liked to sit in the library and go over the ranch’s accounts or read. Elizabeth had been drawn to that room since her first glimpse of it. When Brice was gone during the day, she often went into the library and stroked the leather spines of the books and read the titles. To do more seemed like an invasion of his privacy. But eventually her desire to read overcame her reticence.

After putting Mary Kate down for the night, she went to the library door and paused. Brice sat at his mahogany desk, the lamp making a puddle of yellow light on the polished surface. He was bent over several papers, adding numbers and making notations beside the columns. He must have sensed her presence because he looked up. “Yes?”

Her mouth went dry. What if he refused to let her read his books? Her father had always discouraged her from reading. “I was wondering...” She hesitated, not sure how to go on.

He put down his pen. “Yes?” he repeated.

She went to the nearest shelves and touched the books lightly. “Have you read all these?”

“Yes, I have. I like to read.”

“So do I. I was wondering if, well, if I might borrow a book from time to time. I would be careful with it and be certain to bring it back when I’m finished.” She looked at him beseechingly.

“You like to read?”

The hint of amazement in his tone rankled her. “I told you I can read. My mother taught me even before I started school.” She was trying not to sound defensive but was doing poorly. “Forget I asked.” She turned to leave the room.

“Wait.” He leaned back in his leather chair. “I never said I wouldn’t let you read my books. I’d be glad to share them with you.”

Elizabeth turned back to him, embarrassed and feeling more defensive than ever. “Are you making fun of me? You may have found me living in a sod hut, but I do have an education. If I’m here that long, I’m quite capable of tutoring Mary Kate.”