Читать книгу Marriage On Demand - Susan Fox P. - Страница 9

THE Lambert Ranch west section had once been a ranch of its own, and though Harlow ancestors had bought up other properties further west, the original owner had sold the piece to a Lambert. On a modern-day map, the parcel would look like a hefty bite into the eastern boundary of Harlow Ranch.

In the time it had taken Rena to pack her things from the house and load everything into her pickup, she’d decided that Ford had changed his mind. He’d probably elected to wait for Frank Casey and his sons to inherit. Besides, Harlow Ranch was already vast. The most the parcel would add to it besides more grazing and water, was a straighter eastern boundary.

Given that, there was no logical reason for Ford Harlow to go to the extreme of shackling himself to a woman he barely knew, particularly a female who was far less than a man like him should have to settle for. Desperation might put a man in that situation, but Ford was hardly desperate. The drought was a drain on his resources, but little more. Other than the challenge of bargaining to at last get the section, there could be no other reason than greed or ego to marry her to get it.

And, if greed or ego was the reason, marrying a woman whom everyone considered mannish and undesirable was hardly the kind of showy marriage match expected of such a man.

Because she’d assumed Ford had changed his mind, his arrival was a surprise, but it was a shock when he insisted that she be present during his negotiations with her father.

That negotiation quickly degraded to a virtual showdown. The tension in the den was excruciating, though it was mostly hers. Her father sat stiffly behind his desk, his ongoing irritation evident. Ford leaned back comfortably in one of the wing chairs that his size seemed to dwarf, one booted ankle resting casually on the opposite knee. Rena was too jittery to sit and stood at the side of the room.

Her father, in a perpetual black mood, glared across the desk at the man who gave every impression of being untroubled by the old man’s increasing surliness.

Abner’s voice was sharp. “You want the land bad enough, you’ll marry the girl.”

Ford let a moment pass, as if to emphasize what he was about to say. Abner leaned forward, drawn by his impatience for a response.

“If I marry your daughter, she’ll be my legal wife. I won’t let my wife suffer a slight that’s in my power to prevent, and I won’t profit by a marriage that won’t also profit her.”

Ford’s solemn declaration sent a flush of anger to her father’s face. “And I can put in my will that no Harlow can ever get that land,” he railed. “Frank Casey’ll have to abide by that, so she’s your only chance to get it.”

Ford was unperturbed by the threat. “The land is yours, do what you want with it. But you need to realize you’ve given her no reason to give me the time of day.”

The old man hit the desk with his fist. “She’ll marry you because she does what I say.”

“She’s packed to leave, Abner, so it’s clear you’ve lost any say over her.”

Now Abner shot Rena a furious look. “She’ll get a husband outta this deal she’d never get otherwise.”

Rena did her best to appear unfazed by yet another of her father’s insults. She was already impatient to leave the room and be on her way. She might have left the room that moment, but Ford spoke.

“How do you know I couldn’t win her over and persuade her to marry me?” The hard look on Ford’s face said he’d taken Abner’s remark as an insult to his romantic abilities as a man, rather than the way her father had meant it: that Rena couldn’t get a husband unless her father bribed one.

Abner seemed confused for a moment, then flushed as he understood Ford’s interpretation of his remark. Rena felt a rare spurt of amusement and relaxed the tiniest bit. Ford went on.

“The only one you need to lure into this deal is your daughter.”

The old man got to his feet. “She’s got no business turnin’ it down as it stands.”

“She’s smarter than that. You put it in writing that she inherits Lambert, and I’ll marry her to get the west section signed over to me right away.”

The profanities her father spewed for those next seconds weren’t a surprise to Rena, and evidently not to Ford either, who seemed untroubled by them. Abner finished with a furious, “What do I get outta this?”

The question spoke volumes to Rena. What Abner would have gotten under the terms of his proposal was another way to slight his only child and the satisfaction of putting her in a situation with the potential to cause her hurt.

Rena was hardly surprised by that, but it shamed her now that she’d stayed so long with someone who bore her such ill will.

“You get control over who she marries,” Ford answered smoothly.

“I can marry her off to anybody,” Abner railed back.

Ford smiled then, but there was something calculating about it. “Will Lambert pride be satisfied by just anybody? Or did you choose me because a Harlow’s considered a worthy match for a Lambert? What about that son you wanted her to have? Will just anybody have the pedigree to suit you?”

It was either a brilliant argument that played up to Abner’s pride or a sign of ego and arrogance.

Just so you know, I won’t let any man devalue my wife to the level of brood mare. The talk of a worthy match and a pedigree seemed to contradict that declaration, but the abrupt absence of bad temper in Abner as he appeared to give the argument serious consideration suggested that whatever Ford’s true opinion was, he’d managed to target the one thing that might give her a chance to directly inherit Lambert Ranch.

He’d also managed to completely distract her father from his grudge against her. Rena held her breath. She’d seen her father’s ability to reason deteriorate these past years, but this was the first time she’d seen anyone use it against him.

She immediately felt guilty for the satisfaction she felt, though years of her father’s cruelty made it impossible to not be a little glad to see someone use his pride to manipulate him.

“All right.”

Rena felt the room tilt a bit as she stared at her father and heard his words.

Abner gave a decisive nod and repeated, “All right. She inherits.”

“I’ll need to see a will and I want the details in writing by the end of the week. I’ll marry your daughter the day the land deed is signed over.”

Her father’s cranky look returned. “That’s four days.”

“We should be able to get a marriage license by then, and I want the deal on the section settled.” Ford glanced her way and she struggled to keep her expression impassive. “Unless she wants more time to plan a wedding.”

Quiet satisfaction glinted in Ford’s dark gaze. He’d bargained with her father and won. He’d done what he’d set out to do and he gave no sign that he expected her to refuse the deal.

And how could she? She’d toiled for years in hope of one day inheriting the land that was her birthright. She’d endured a lifetime of pain to get the one thing she had a right to expect aside from her father’s love and approval. Not getting those had sharpened her craving to get the ranch, to get at least one thing she had a moral right to. Ford Harlow had managed to get it for her and according to the deal, she owed him a marriage.

Her voice was little more than a whisper. “Four days is enough.”

The glimmer in Ford’s eyes flared stronger before he looked back at her father. Rena suddenly couldn’t bear another moment in the room, particularly when Ford showed no sign that he was leaving soon. It relieved her that neither man remarked or called her back when she quietly walked out.

Rena found her father’s housekeeper, Myra, and told her goodbye before she headed down to the stable for her horses. She should be thrilled to inherit Lambert Ranch, but the thrill was dampened by her terror of marrying Ford.

Besides, there was always the chance her father would change his mind. She didn’t trust his sudden capitulation. By tomorrow—or even later today—he could change his mind and the deal would be canceled.

And even if he didn’t cancel the deal right away, there was no way to be certain her father would keep his word about Lambert Ranch indefinitely. Abner was in reasonably good health for a man his age, so it could be years before he passed away. That gave him years to find a way to thwart any legal document Ford tried to hold him to.

Until her father either passed away or reneged on the deal, Rena would be married to Ford. She didn’t delude herself into thinking that this marriage was the forever kind, whatever happened with her father. They’d made a deal for land. Ford would have his right away, but it was completely possible that Abner would somehow prevent her from ever receiving hers.

The whole thing could end up in the courts, and Rena’s personal assets were not enough for a prolonged fight. And a court fight would as much as advertise the fact that she and Ford had married for land. Besides, Ford would have long ago got what he wanted, so why would he bother with that kind of trouble?

Whatever happened between now and then, she’d have a marriage and she’d be a wife. What kind of marriage would it be now that Ford seemed to have effectively negotiated away her father’s specific requirement for a male heir? Without the need for a son to ensure that Lambert Ranch was passed down to blood family, would Ford be interested in having children with her?

She wasn’t even certain she wanted children, at least not unless having them was evidence of a solid marriage with everything a solid marriage meant, particularly love. Perhaps Ford felt the same way and he’d subtly negotiated a male heir out of the agreement because he had no desire to have children tie him to a woman he couldn’t love.

And what if he’d negotiated so boldly with her father because he expected a marriage to her wouldn’t last long? Abner was seventy-five and a marriage need last only until the will was read.

When she reached the stable, Frank Casey, his two sons and several of the men waited. Frank and his sons had gathered her tack and collected her horses. Frank had hooked up the horse trailer he was loaning to her, but most of them knew nothing more than the fact that she was leaving Lambert Ranch.

They hadn’t loaded her two horses and the yearling filly that belonged to her, but the well-cared-for animals were tethered nearby. It surprised her a bit when all the men politely removed their hats in a rare show of formality. Frank spoke when she reached them.

“We’re all sorry your leavin’, Miz Lambert. Not sure how many’ll care to stay on after you go.”

Rena had privately informed Frank that her father had mentioned willing the ranch to him and his sons. She’d decided it was fair to let him know because if it actually was her father’s plan to will Frank the ranch, Frank could spoil that for himself and his sons by quitting as foreman. Frank had rejected the notion, and it was clear he’d disapproved of her father cutting her out of her rightful inheritance.

She nodded. “I trust your judgment about whatever you and the others decide, Frank, but I need to do this.”

Frank nodded solemnly and she shook his hand. His sons were next, then the men. All were somber. She briefly exchanged good-luck wishes with each of them as Frank loaded her horses.

Rena had got along well with everyone on Lambert Ranch, but her father had always resented any sign that the men felt strong loyalty to her. The more surly and difficult Abner had become, the more the men had looked to her for decisions, though he never suspected how often that happened. Between her and the men, Lambert Ranch had managed to run reasonably well, in spite of Abner’s irrational decrees.

Rena wouldn’t tell anyone about the possibility that she might be marrying Ford Harlow because, besides feeling embarrassed about the circumstances, she couldn’t truly believe she’d actually marry Ford. She’d lived her whole life with this kind of uncertainty, and she’d hated that, but it was always best to keep expectations for good low. Though in this case, it was hard to know which outcomes were good and which ones weren’t.

Several of the men had either returned to the headquarters or stayed nearby after word had gotten around that she was leaving, so once they’d bid her a proper goodbye, they started back to work.

Rena got into her pickup and started it to drive to the front of the main house, debating where to go. She could stable her horses and check into a motel until she knew the details of Ford’s deal with her father. What she truly wanted now was to forget it all and drive to Austin to begin the search for work, but the possibility of inheriting Lambert made that impossible.

Ford was just coming out of the house when she pulled to a stop next to his parked truck. He walked directly to her.

“I’ve already made arrangements for your horses at Harlow,” he told her. “My housekeeper’s got your room ready by now.”

The idea that he expected her to move directly into his home increased her unease.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she said quietly.

The faint smile on Ford’s mouth smoothed to a serious line. “Abner’s antsy about you leaving Lambert. He’ll focus better on keeping his end of the deal if it looks like you and I are keeping our end.”

Rena glanced away and gripped the steering wheel. “And once you and I are under the same roof and people hear about it, he could back out of the agreement.”

“Why would he do that?”

It was difficult to admit to Ford, but she made herself look at him to say it. “To cause…embarrassment.”

Ford appeared unfazed by that. “He already knows that once you and I are together, I won’t tolerate that. You seem to be the only one in doubt.”

She felt a pinprick of anger but kept her voice calm. “And you seem to be the only one who doesn’t understand how my father is.”

“Sure I do. He’s bad-tempered and he’s a bully. Once you’re away from him, he won’t seem so powerful and you can stop letting him worry you.”

The words were blunt and left no room for her to mistake either Ford’s opinion of her father or his disapproval of her worries.

“It’s getting late,” he went on. “Miz Zelly had supper started before I came over, and I’ve worked up a hell of an appetite.”

His dark gaze held hers for long moments and she sensed a double meaning in those last words, a sexual meaning that somehow pierced her ignorance and sent a flush over her skin. Her gaze jerked from his.

“So your men and your housekeeper know about…this?” She couldn’t bring herself to call it a marriage. “They think—”

“They think I’ve finally decided to marry. The shenanigans of a bitter old man, whatever those might be, won’t influence what they’ll think of you.”

This was his second dismissal of her worries about what her father might do. Frustrated by that, she was compelled to convince him her worries weren’t groundless.

“The man’s reputation doesn’t suffer what a woman’s does.” She glanced at him in time to catch the start of his smile.

Ford leaned toward the truck to rest a forearm on the sill of the open window. Which brought his face disturbingly close to hers. His voice dropped lower, and his words sent a double stroke of heat through her.

“Civilized people used to marry each other to stop wagging tongues. We can do that if the land deal falls through and you’re still worried about how this looks.”

Rena felt again that peculiar mix of fear and excitement, but she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze away.

“We need to get moving,” he said then. “It’d be nice to have you settled in before supper. We’ve got plans to work out before we get the license tomorrow.”

Her insides were quivering with added anxiety at the mention of a marriage license, but she did her best to conceal it. Besides, she hadn’t yet thanked Ford for what he’d accomplished for her. She made an awkward start.

“I’m obliged to you for putting yourself out in there with my father, and I’m…grateful.”

He came right back with, “We’re both obliged. To each other for what we’ll get out of the deal, and for a marriage.”

There it was again, that glimpse of implacability. The fear Rena felt made her give a nod before she faced forward, relieved when Ford turned to walk to his truck.

The moment his back was turned, she secretly watched him go, wondering how on earth she would ever adjust to him.

Ford had seen the fear in Rena’s troubled gaze. She was terrified of marrying him. He’d be willing to bet her terror was sharp enough that she’d almost give up the chance to inherit Lambert Ranch if it meant she wouldn’t have to go through with a wedding.

He wasn’t offended by that, he was touched. Unfortunately there might be little he could do to ease her terror in the short time between now and the end of the week.

Perhaps it wasn’t fair to try. Her father had put her in an impossible position, and Ford himself had just upped the ante for her. To be honest, he didn’t trust Abner any more than she did, but the details of the legal agreement he’d be signing might at least make the old man think twice about reneging later.

In the meantime, he had to somehow keep Rena from bolting while he tried to decide if getting his hands on more land and water was truly worth the trouble of marrying her.

By the time Rena angled the horse trailer near the stable at Harlow Ranch, she was shaking. She switched off the truck engine and got out to unload her horses, sick with misgiving.

Ford had driven in ahead of her and now he joined her to open the trailer gate and pull out the ramp. He introduced three of his ranch hands who offered to take care of her horses, but Rena gently declined, preferring to settle them in herself.

“Then one of you can get this trailer unhitched and taken back to Frank Casey at Lambert Ranch,” Ford told his men as he took the two horses’ lead ropes, leaving the filly for Rena. “The other two can take her truck up to the house. Miz Zelly’ll show you where to put Miz Lambert’s things.”

Rena got in a quiet “Thank you” to the men, though Ford’s brisk directions to them cranked her nerves several notches higher. Things were happening too fast. She should have been able to slow them down, to reconsider the shocking events of the day and make certain what she truly wanted, but her brain was pounding with it all.

The filly immediately began to act up, yanking away and fidgeting at the end of her lead. The abrupt move claimed Rena’s attention and she struggled to calm herself while she gave the filly a reassuring rub. Ford had already taken her horses into the stable, so Rena led the filly and followed.

Three large stalls halfway down had been prepared, complete with measures of grain and fresh water. Rena put the filly in the center stall, removed her halter, then waited while the yearling inspected her new quarters. Her horses took the change in stride. Ford and the ranch hand who was returning the trailer to Frank Casey got her tack stowed in the tack room, and once Rena was satisfied her animals were comfortable, she joined Ford for the walk to the main house.

The Harlow Ranch house was a sprawling two-story Victorian, with a large back patio overhung by leafy shade trees. Both the front and back verandas were decorated with urns of colorful flowers, which gave the whole place a look of energy and hospitality.

Nothing like the stark simplicity of the Lambert Ranch house, which had always seemed colorless and grim.

The kitchen was alive with the same vitality and color, from the display of hanging cookware over a large island counter in the main part, to the hanging pots of flowers and trailing vines and gaily colored tile of the large floor.

Food preparations were scattered over the island counter and parts of two others. The warm smell of baking bread and the rich aroma of roasting beef reminded Rena she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Zelly Norman turned from her work to give them a wide smile of welcome. Ford quickly introduced her to Rena, who greeted the small woman quietly.

“She’s a handsome choice, Boss,” Zelly remarked, and Rena was uneasy with the expression.

She considered the word handsome a masculine word, or one related to horses, but the happy smile on Zelly’s face couldn’t be mistaken for anything less than genuine approval and enthusiasm.

“Welcome to Harlow Ranch,” Zelly went on. “I hope you’re happy here. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“Thank you,” Rena said, unable to defeat the awkwardness she felt or the tremor of her smile.

Ford whisked her away for a quick tour of his home. The house was far larger than the Lambert main house, the rooms spacious and filled with light. The dimness and hint of oppression she was accustomed to was absent here.

It was a man’s house, with lots of wood and leather and color, but the feminine touches—needlework pillows, the occasional delicate chair or water-color painting and burst of ruffled curtains—made it all a pleasing combination that interested the eye, and Rena was surprisingly comfortable with the homey feel of it.

The upstairs tour dampened that feeling of comfort, if for no other reason than the fact that she’d never been near a bedroom in a man’s presence, much less accompanied a man into his own bedroom.

She might have lingered outside the room if she’d realized the huge bedroom was Ford’s, but he’d led her past most of the other six doors along the hall to this one, so she’d assumed he was leading her directly to the room his housekeeper had prepared for her.

The masculinity of the room and the obvious absence of her boxes of belongings, made her halt uncertainly a few feet inside.

“This’ll be our room after the ceremony on Friday. The walk-in’s big enough for your things, so we can move in all but what you need every day as soon as you want to unpack. Zelly’s cleared drawers in the dresser and the chest in here for what you don’t want in the closet. Your room’s through there,” he said, indicating the door at the side of the room, “to make it convenient.”

Rena’s startled gaze shot toward the open door that connected Ford’s bedroom with the next one. Ford went on as if he’d sensed the spark of horror she felt and meant to confront it head-on.

“We’ll be sharing a bed in a handful of days. It’s best for us to live close to each other’s habits between now and then.”

“I won’t sleep with you.”

The quiet words came out on a whispery gust. Ford’s response to that was instant.

“And I won’t marry a woman I can’t share a bed with. You need to plan on that.” The soft declaration made her heart fall, then kick into a wild beat. She looked at him, dismayed that his expression was hard and no-nonsense.

“There’s n-no need for a son.”

“Not for you to inherit, but I want sons,” he went on. “And daughters. I won’t marry a woman who’s not willing to bear my children.”

He was so brutally candid that she felt the room shift. “What if we’re not…suited?”

His stern expression didn’t ease. “Then we’d better set our minds on suiting each other before we go through a ceremony on Friday.”

Though his voice was still low and calm, its steely undertone wrapped around her and squeezed mercilessly. The urge to escape him was profound, but she managed to stifle it.

“What if I…change my mind about this? Or you do?”

Ford’s gaze searched hers. “Then I reckon there’ll be no marriage.”

His words only marginally eased the terrified thundering of her heart. Was the possibility of inheriting Lambert Ranch truly worth all this? If Ford was anything like her father, she’d be trading one tyrant for another. Only this tyrant, Ford, was the one who was the most potentially dangerous.

She’d had no choice about how she’d grown up. She’d be choosing to marry Ford, whatever the incentive, so that meant she’d be getting everything good or bad that would come with that choice.

What kind of man was he, truly?

“You ought to have a look at your room,” he said, and she realized she must have stared at him all this time. And, because he seemed so unerringly perceptive, he’d probably at least glimpsed evidence of her chaotic thoughts.

This man was too strong for her. Worldly, experienced Ford Harlow, who seemed to detect everything, could make mincemeat of her heart and scatter it in the dust without a backward glance.

She jerked her gaze from his face and walked stiffly to the connecting door for the expected glance into the room Ford had assigned her. The details—beyond the orderly stacks of boxes near the connecting door—made absolutely no impression on her. Her whole being seemed only able to focus on the man who stood behind her and the questions that whirled in her brain.

“We need to wash up for supper. Zelly serves at six.”

Ford’s voice was quiet, as if he’d sensed it all, as if he’d known that she was scrambling for something normal to fix on, for something to distract her from the pressure of the shocking demands he’d detailed to her.

All over a piece of land and an inheritance. The notion of marrying a stranger to get either seemed both foreign and immoral. To be expected to sleep with a man she didn’t know from the first day of that marriage was barbaric.

And, for a woman who’d never been kissed, who’d never so much as held a man’s hand, it was absolutely horrifying.

Somehow, she turned and managed to walk out of Ford’s bedroom into the hall, her heart beating so wildly that she was light-headed.