Author: Sylvia McDaniel
Category: Contemporary
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/sylvia-mcdaniel/page,15,10235-the-rancher-takes-a-bride.html
Travis frowned. She'd never had new clothes before that no one else had worn? The thought disturbed him and unsettled him all at once. He glanced around and located his mother.
"It's time we loaded up the wagon and headed back to the ranch if we're going to get back before dark."
The bell over the door jingled as a tall man dressed in casual clothes stepped into the dress shop. "Is Eugenia Burnett here?" he inquired.
"That's me," Eugenia replied. She hurried over to the man.
"I work for Mrs. McLaughlin. She heard you were in town and asked that I bring you this note," he said, handing her a white envelope sealed with wax.
Eugenia took the envelope, ripped it open, and scanned the missive. Glancing up from the message, she frowned at Travis. "My friend, Katie, is ill. The dear has no one to care for her. She asked me to spend a few days with her."
She sighed, folded the note, and put it in her handbag. "Tucker, you wouldn't mind taking me back to the ranch in a couple of days, would you?"
Tucker smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "No, I'll take you home, Mother, whenever you're ready to go."
"Is that okay with you, Travis?"
Travis smiled. "We'll take care of everything at the ranch. Stay in town as long as you need and care for your friend."
A glance at his younger brother confirmed Travis's worst fears. The boy's head was filling with all sorts of ideas that had already crossed Travis's mind. But worse, Tucker looked as if he was going to bust out laughing at any moment. If looks could maim, he should have been hurting at the very least, as Travis shot him a look that clearly warned the young man not to say a word.
God, they would be alone. All alone. He would have Rose all to himself for days. He glanced at her and felt his body stiffen with response. Somehow his wishes had come true.
Eugenia took Rose by the hand. "Dear, do you mind that I'm going to stay in town?"
Rose glanced at Travis, and he sent her a reassuring smile and watched as she swallowed nervously. She turned back to Eugenia.
"No. That will be fine."
"Thank you. I'll be home in several days." Eugenia gathered up her reticule and several small bags.
"What are you going to do about clothes?" Travis asked.
"I'll manage just fine," Eugenia responded.
Travis glanced at Rose, trying not to appear eager, but suddenly anxious to get started. "We've got to get going. It will be after dark before we get home."
They gathered their packages and walked to the waiting wagon. Travis tried to appear solemn, but his brother kept smiling at him as if they shared some secret.
Travis took Rose by the arm and helped her up into the wagon, then turned to his mother and brother. He gave his mother a quick hug. "Hurry home, Mother."
"I will."
Travis looked at his brother who stood beside Eugenia smiling. "Be careful, little brother. I'll see you in a couple of days."
Tucker smiled. "I'll be just fine. It's you I'm worried about."
Shaking his brother's hand, Travis leaned forward and whispered, "I'm going to be just fine, little brother. Don't worry about me."
***
Dusk cloaked the land, like an intimate lover, as the last rays of the sun shimmered over the horizon. Rose and Travis bounced silently along in the wagon, except for the creak of the wooden wheels and the jingle of the horse's harness.
The day had left Rose giddy with excitement and anxious at the same time. The combination made sitting still for the long ride back to the Bar None difficult. Two new dresses and the audition had left her with a glow that seemed to warm her throughout. And part of her felt ecstatic enough to shout out what she'd done, but she refrained, knowing instinctively how Travis would react to the news.
Yet the anxious side of her was fearful of what the darkness would bring. The night loomed in front of them, long and lonely with only a wall of wood and mortar separating them. But there were other, larger, insurmountable obstacles keeping them apart. Small issues of trust and honesty coupled with values and beliefs, little things that were like boulders in their path.
Rose sighed and shifted on the hard wooden bench. It hurt that Travis thought she was a thief. People's opinions mattered more than she was willing to admit, especially the people she cared about. And somehow, the longer she stayed at the Bar None, the more Travis's opinion mattered. And that frightened her. She didn't have time to give her heart to a man. Any man, but especially one who thought so badly of her.
The wagon rocked and she glanced at him and met his heated gaze.
"It'll take us an hour to get home. You must be tired," he said.
Surprised, she gazed at him. He was inquiring as to how she was feeling? "It's been a long day, but I'm not that tired."
"I'm glad to hear that," he said, his voice velvety smooth.
She wondered at his response.
A cool breeze whispered against her skin, teasing wisps of hair away from her face. The urge to trail her hand down her cheek, following the sensuous path of the breeze, gave her pause. When had she ever noticed how the wind felt?
Silence stretched for well over a mile, the quiet tense with unspoken words. He despised her, he thought she was a thief, yet she felt inexplicably drawn to him. He was so law-abiding, honest, and faithful, something she'd never experienced before in a man.
Finally, he cleared his throat. "Why have you never had new clothes before now?"
"Not every child grows up well-fed and clothed, with a family that cares about them like yours." She hadn't known the difference when she was younger. But now she realized just how much they had struggled to make a living.
He shrugged. "I know you're right. Even if I have a snooping mother, in a lot of ways I guess I was lucky. How about you? What was growing up as a medium like?"
Her conscience twinged, reminding her of the charade she played. The game of how to make a living her father had taught her.
"It was different, but not bad," she acknowledged truthfully. "Nothing like your own childhood, I'm sure."
They were raised in different worlds. One loving and honest, the other one on the edge of the law. Drifting from town to town, barely surviving.
They rode for several minutes in silence before he glanced in her direction again. His eyes seemed to skim her, leaving her flushed.
"That shade of green—looks good on you. It matches the color of your eyes," he said awkwardly.
She swallowed. Compliments were rare, yet sincere from a man like Travis, and they only increased her growing awareness of him. "Thank you. I—I didn't expect a dress quite so nice."
All he'd done was gaze at her, compliment her new dress, and she felt hotter than a rock in the desert. What about this man evoked such intense feelings that left her nerve endings tingling in anticipation?
He was strong, dependable, protective of those he loved, and she couldn't imagine he had never kept a promise. Travis Burnett was the type of man who, when he pledged forever, it would be until his last dying breath. He was a man whose word could be written in stone.
Very different from Rose's previous limited experiences with men, whose words were flippantly tossed about, with no expectations of fulfillment. And the only real man in her life had been her father.
No wonder she'd never felt the necessity to get married. Oh, she'd dreamed of a husband once, but not now. Not when she had a chance of accomplishing her real goal, of being an actress like her mother.
She glanced over at Travis. His brawny shoulders bunched as he steered the reins of the horses, and a quickening began in her stomach that left her trembling. Only with Travis did she experience such new, unexpected feelings, and they frightened her.
Sometimes she thought their constant bickering was a way of fighting their mutual attraction. But what had kept other women at bay? Eugenia said he was consumed with the ranch, but was it just the land that occupied his time? Could a man fill his days with cows and ranching and never think to settle down?
<
br /> "Why haven't you ever married?" She blurted out the question that suddenly seemed so pressing.
He turned his dark-brown eyes upon her, his expression slightly bemused at her question. "Well, I never really had much time to spend courting women. And the ones I did consider seemed more interested in the Bar None and my bank account than me."
His gaze seemed to linger, leaving her breathless. She pushed her wayward curls away from her face and tried to calm her ragged breathing. "You seem like the type of man who would want to settle down."
"I'm in no hurry," he said, his voice a lazy drawl that touched nerve endings she didn't know she had. "I'm not marrying until I find the right woman."
"Which would be?" she questioned.
He tilted his head and reflected for a moment. "I expect my wife to be my helpmate, but also I want her to raise my children in an environment that will nurture and help them. I want an elegant lady. Someone I can trust, who knows a woman's place."
That certainly didn't describe Rose, and she realized how completely different their worlds were. He wanted the perfect woman, who would be a submissive wife, who birthed perfect children and kept a perfect house.
Boring. Her world would never be flawless, and his perfect wife sounded dull and lifeless. She longed for a theater that would train her in the ways of an actress.
She wanted a life with opulent riches and luxuries galore.
She yawned, leaned back, and watched the scenery flow by like a moving painting. The smell of rain mingled in the air, the scent fresh and clean.
A quick glance at Travis and she noticed the sandy locks of hair that peeked from beneath his hat. The way his overlarge hands handled the reins, tugging and pulling. The strength of his forearms and the rippling of his muscles as he maneuvered the wagon.
Her imagination had all those muscles and bronzed skin gleaming by the flicker of firelight, and she clenched her fists in her lap. For a moment she wondered what he would do if she reached over and touched him, laid her hand on his arm, put her lips on his.
She shook her head. Travis seemed to invade her thinking throughout the day and night. Lingering on the edge of her mind, always one quick thought away from toying with her intellect, one heartbeat away from rousing emotions she believed buried deeply away.
Why this man who deemed it necessary to hold her on his ranch? Why only with him did she experience such safety and security as she'd never known?
At no time in her life had she witnessed family ties that held people together, a sense of love and commitment uniting them, like the Burnetts'. Never before had any man aroused feelings that made her want to abandon everything and give in to sweet temptation.
Rose glanced over at Travis and sighed. Yet one thing kept her from falling into his arms and giving herself over to the pleasure she suspected she would find there. He wanted to bed her only because he thought she was easy.
She was anything but easy, but Travis didn't realize the extent of her tenacity. Travis didn't know she was not what he believed.
"How much longer?" she asked, feeling anxious as each bounce of the wagon had them bumping hips and elbows.
"About thirty minutes," he said.
A flash of lightning lit up the western sky, illuminating the night.
"Looks like we could get some rain," he commented.
"Rain would be nice. There's nothing like sleeping to the sound of raindrops hitting the roof. Of course, if its thunderstorms, the rumbles and lightning can keep you awake. And if it's hot and sticky, it's almost impossible to sleep. But I do love the rain."
She was rambling on about a subject they should never be discussing. Hot, humid, sleepless nights filled with longing and the rumble of thunder.
He smiled at her. "Don't you like the clean smell of rain?"
"Yes, and the way the breeze cools everything down after a summer storm."
Rose took a deep breath and glanced at Travis, who appeared to be smiling at her in the dark. She could feel his eyes on her, and she tried to will her pulse to ignore his heated gaze.
God, all she wanted to do was throw her arms around him and experience one of his drugging kisses. Feel his lips as they covered hers, the touch of his hand as he caressed her.
"I have the perfect remedy for a sleepless night," he reassured her, his voice snapping her out of her heightened state of awareness. "It's a special tea that my grandmother made. I'd be happy to make it for you."
She swallowed and tried to still her racing heart. Thunder rumbled in the distance, the sound echoing the beat of Rose's heart. Tea. She sighed, not knowing if she was disappointed or relieved that his cure was only tea and not something more. It was going to be a long, sleepless night, muggy with anticipation.
Chapter Eleven
Rose climbed the steps leading to her bedroom, each step closer to the sanctuary of her room. They were alone in the house, sleeping under the same roof, right across the hall from one another. And for the hundredth time that night, she reminded herself that their worlds were different.
She wanted to be an actress. He wanted a lady. But no matter how many times she remembered that fact, her body recalled the loneliness of her bed and the very real memory of his kiss.
Reaching the top of the staircase, she grasped the doorknob, opened the door to her room, and stepped inside. Travis had taken the horses to the makeshift barn, and after checking on the livestock he would return to the house for the night.
For the moment, Rose was alone with only her thoughts and her desires. How could she survive the next few days with Travis so close? Mere feet separated them, yet a great chasm of differences kept them apart. Differences that could never be bridged.
Somehow she felt the urge to go to bed before he came back. To crawl onto that mattress and cover her head before they were both tempted to explore an attraction left better unexamined. Before she was enticed to seek fulfillment with Travis, if only for a little while, even if the man would never marry her. Not that she would ever tie herself to a man, but still, if ever there was a temptation, this man was certainly beguiling.
Crossing the room, Rose sat down at the dressing table. She pulled the pins from her hair, letting it tumble freely down her back. Picking up the comb, she pulled it through her springy curls, gently pulling the tangles out, wishing the problems in her life were as easily untangled.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, the sound melancholy, lonely, and she wondered when Travis would return from the barn. The ride home had been tense with unspoken feelings made worse by his secret glances and covert scrutiny, which left her flushed, yet shaken. The knowledge that they were alone made her as nervous as a card cheat surrounded by gunslingers.
She wanted what she could not have. She wanted Travis Burnett, in spite of the fact that he thought she was a thief. In spite of the fact that he had dragged her against her will to his ranch. Common sense denied her, but her heart wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted to experience his kisses, wanted the pleasure of his touch. If only for a little while.
Quickly, before she succumbed to her desire, she unbuttoned her dress, struggling with the tiny pearl buttons in the back. Finally, she managed to unhook the diminutive buttons and ease the garment down her shoulders. She would have slept in the garment before she allowed Travis to help her undress.
Stepping out of the new dress, she hung it up in the armoire alongside her other new clothes. She smoothed the emerald cotton skirt, the fabric crisp beneath her fingertips, and wondered about her good fortune, her conscience twanging oddly.
All her life she'd learned how to dupe people, how to play the art of the con. Why was she suddenly having difficulty accepting her profession? Why did her business seem almost contemptible after spending time at the Bar None?
She wasn't hurting anyone. Oftentimes she eased people's pain when they learned their loved ones were happy and doing well on the other side. So why was she having so much trouble now?
Because Travis Burnett thought
she was a thief, and suddenly his opinion held significance. She clutched her hands to her head and refused to consider why Travis's opinion was of value. She couldn't think about why he mattered.
She stood, determined not to think of her predicament any longer, and located the new nightgown Eugenia had bought her. She slipped the cottony garment over her head, and the filmy white gauze draped her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. She twirled about, feeling luxurious. Never before had she been so fortunate.
Downstairs, she heard the front door open and close with a decisive click. Only Travis shut the door that way. She couldn't face him, couldn't take the chance of seeing him and being unable to resist the temptation he presented. She blew out the lantern and quickly, before she changed her mind, yanked back the covers and jumped into bed.
The sound of Travis's heavy footsteps tramping up the stairs reminded Rose of a death march. Each step was measured and slow, as if he were climbing to the gates of heaven—or hell.
At the top of the stairs, his footsteps halted. He stood right outside her door. Her heart pounded in anticipation. He paused for a moment, and she imagined him contemplating whether to push open the door or continue on to his room.
Rose held her breath, part of her secretly wanting him to open her door, push open that portal and let her experience the wonder of being in his arms. Experience the sensations only he aroused in her, to their completion.
Yet part of her feared that if he opened her door, she would be forever lost, for it would be impossible to turn him away. That he would take her fragile heart and shatter it into a thousand pieces when he discarded her for his perfect little wife.
Finally, she heard his boots as he walked across the hall to his own room. A huge sigh of relief, a sigh of regret, escaped her. She had no desire to be his woman. She had no desire to be any man's mistress. Yet with each departing footstep she wanted to cry, and that perhaps scared her most of all.
***
Travis stepped into his room and closed the door. Why did he feel this sense of disappointment? What had he expected, her waiting to lure him into her bedroom? So they were alone. Why had he hoped for their aloneness to make things any different?
The only sounds in the house were the occasional creaks and groans of the wood structure and the constant chirp of a forlorn cricket crying for a mate. From the window came the occasional howl of a lonesome wolf somewhere off in the distance. But the room across the hall was silent.