In the Rancher's Arms

“You’re married to one of my boys now,” the woman said, kissing Victoria’s cheek. “Call me Grandma Jean.” Turning to the minister, she asked, “Would you like to join us for some refreshments, Preacher?”

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay, Jean,” the man said, smiling as he walked toward the front door. “I have to drive down to the hospital in Cheyenne to see a member of the congregation who came down with pneumonia.”

After seeing Reverend Watkins out, Blake’s grandmother motioned for them to follow her. “I’ve got a wedding cake and some of my best elderberry wine waiting for you two in the dining room. I know you’ll want to get on the road before too long, so we’d better get to celebrating.”

Eli watched his new wife follow Grandma Jean out of the room and wondered what the hell he had been thinking when he chose Victoria Anderson to be his wife. She wasn’t anything like the woman he had been looking for when he placed his advertisement on the Hitching Post website. He had been looking for a woman who could help out with ranch work and eventually bear him a son to carry on the legacy of the Rusty Spur Ranch. But he would bet his next breath that his new wife had never worked a day in her life, much less on a ranch.

“You’re the only son of a gun I know who could fall in a pile of manure and come out smelling like a rose.” Blake’s tone was low and quiet and Eli assumed his friend didn’t want the women to hear him.

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning.

“When you posted your ad on that rancher’s dating website, you made it sound more like you were looking for a female hired hand instead of a wife,” Blake said, laughing. “I wouldn’t have given you a plugged nickel for your chances of finding any woman to take you up on an offer that sounded about as romantic as a trip to the dentist. But I’ll be damned if you didn’t end up with the prom queen!”

As his friend slapped him on the back and followed the women into the dining room, Eli had to admit that in the looks department, he had hit a home run when he chose Victoria. Her long, golden-brown hair complemented her lightly tanned complexion, and she had the most expressive violet eyes he had ever seen.

Unfortunately, beauty hadn’t been one of his criteria for a suitable wife. He had wanted a woman who understood the daily operation of a ranch the size of the Rusty Spur and could pitch in to help if the need arose. And she had assured him she had the experience he had been looking for. But one look at his new wife’s designer clothes and her delicate, perfectly manicured hands signing the marriage license, and he had known for certain that her claim to be knowledgeable of any kind of farm or ranch work was a total myth.

He had suspected as much the first time he called to interview her, but he chose her anyway over several other, more qualified respondents for one simple reason. Her soft Southern drawl caused his pulse to race. In hindsight, he probably should have been thinking with his head and not his hormones. But at the time, he had reasoned that if they were eventually going to have a child together it probably wouldn’t hurt to find his wife desirable. What he hadn’t anticipated was his reaction when he saw her for the first time.

He had always thought that having a woman rob a man of breath was just a line in a song or a novel. But that was the only way to describe what had happened to him when she stepped off the plane in Cheyenne. At first sight, he’d sucked in a sharp breath and he wasn’t sure he had released it even yet.

“Eli Laughlin, stop standing there like a moon-eyed calf and get in here to help your bride cut the wedding cake,” Grandma Jean said from the doorway of the dining room.

Grateful for a diversion from his disturbing thoughts, Eli smiled at the woman who was grandmother to all of her grandson’s friends. “Yes, ma’am. On my way.”

When he entered the room, Victoria was standing behind a three-tiered cake sitting on one end of the dining table. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

Walking over to stand beside her, he tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Are you doing all right?”

She nodded. “It was very sweet of Mrs. Hartwell to go to all this trouble. I didn’t expect a cake….” Pausing, she looked directly at him and laughed. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t know what I expected.”

Her nervous laughter and the vulnerability she couldn’t quite hide caused an unexpected emotion to spread throughout his chest. For reasons he couldn’t even begin to understand, Victoria Anderson-Laughlin brought out a protectiveness in him that Eli hadn’t even known he possessed.

He told himself that it was because she was pretty, petite and delicately feminine—the type of woman who made a man feel like a man. But the fact was she was his wife and she carried his name now. For some reason that upped the ante. It was his job to protect her and it came as no small surprise how quickly the feeling had settled over him.

Eli took a deep breath. He must be losing it. Hell, they hadn’t been married more than ten minutes and he was already thinking like a husband?

Emotions like that were something he had tried to avoid and approaching their marriage as a business deal, he thought he had done that. Apparently, he had underestimated the sense of responsibility that came along with having a wife.

“Okay, you two. Give me a big smile,” Blake said, holding up a digital camera. He motioned toward Victoria. “Put your arms around your wife, dude. This is your official wedding photo.”

If Eli could have reached over the cake to choke his best friend, he would have. Blake knew that he and Victoria were little more than strangers. But being thrown in jail on his wedding day for throttling the best man probably wasn’t a good idea, Eli decided as he put his arms around her. He would just have to settle the score with Blake later.

When he pulled her to him, Victoria placed her hand on his chest and the warmth of her palm through his shirt felt damned good. Maybe too good. The prenuptial agreement they signed had a clause that stated they would refrain from having sex for a period of four weeks in order to get to know each other and find out if they were compatible. He took a deep breath. If the magnetic pull between them was as strong as he was beginning to suspect, he was in for a miserable month of bone-chilling showers and a hell of a lot of frustration.

The camera flashed and just as Eli was about to release her, Blake grinned. “Now give your bride a kiss. I missed getting a picture of it during the ceremony.”

Eli wasn’t entirely certain all the pictures were a good idea. What if, after their month of getting to know each other, they decided they weren’t a good match and the marriage was annulled?

“Oh, yes, you’ll want a picture of your wedding kiss,” Grandma Jean chimed in.

Gazing down at the woman in his arms, Eli could read every emotion in the crystalline depths of her violet eyes. Victoria was as surprised this time as she had been when the minister told him he could kiss her after pronouncing them husband and wife. She hadn’t expected him to observe the ritual then, and truth to tell, he hadn’t intended to. But something about the way she had looked at him throughout the brief ceremony had compelled him to stick to tradition. The way she was gazing up at him now was having the same effect.

Without giving it a second thought, Eli lowered his head to cover her mouth with his. He told himself he was kissing Victoria because refusing would have created an awkward situation. Deep down, he knew better. He wanted to kiss her again, needed to see if his first impression had been correct.

The moment their lips met, he knew for certain that his assessment of the brief kiss they’d shared following their vows had been right on the money. Victoria had the softest, sweetest lips he’d ever had the privilege to kiss. The thought of what they’d do if things worked out between them sent his temperature soaring.

When his body began to tighten, Eli quickly broke the contact and took a step back. To his satisfaction, his bride looked as dazed by this kiss as she had the first one. Unless he missed his guess, she was feeling the same chemistry between them that he was.

“Perfect,” Blake said, grinning like the damned Cheshire cat. “One more of you two cutting the cake and I’ll be done for now.”

“What do you mean, ‘for now’?” Eli asked, scowling. Blake had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, but the man was pushing the limits of his patience.

Blake’s grin widened as he rocked back on his heels. “I’ll have to get at least one picture of Grandma throwing rice at the two of you and then another of you and your beautiful bride driving away to start your new life together on the Rusty Spur.”

Eli ground his back teeth. Blake was having way too much fun at his expense.

After they cut the white cake with little pink flowers on it, fed each other a bite and toasted with a glass of Grandma Jean’s homemade wine, Eli checked his watch. “Thanks for everything, but I think it’s time we get on the road. We have a two-hour drive to get to the ranch, and Buck will pitch a fit if he has to reheat supper.”

“You tell that old goat the next time he comes into town I have a bone to pick with him about refusing to be here for this,” Grandma Jean said as she put on her coat and walked out the door. Her disapproval was evident in her stern expression. “He should have been here to see you tie the knot, and I’m going to tell him so.” She turned suddenly and held up her hand. “Wait until Blake gets ready with the camera before you start down the porch steps. And be careful. He shoveled most of the snow off the walk, but there’s still a couple of slick spots.”

“Thanks for the warning.” When Grandma Jean walked out of the house, Eli helped Victoria into her coat, then shrugged into his. “I had Blake go out a little earlier to start my truck and turn on the heater. It should be warm inside the cab now.”

“That was thoughtful of you.” Her smile sent a wave of heat spreading through his chest that he did his best to ignore. “And thank you for introducing me to your friends. I’ve really enjoyed meeting them. They’re very nice.”

“Well, Grandma Jean is, anyway,” Eli said, jamming his wide-brimmed Resistol onto his head.

“How often do you get to see them?” she asked.

“I make it down here several times in the spring and summer, but after it starts snowing in late fall, I usually don’t see them until the next spring,” he said as they walked out onto the front porch. “My dad and Blake’s dad were best friends and when I was young. I used to stay with them during the winter months so I could go to school.” When he caught sight of his truck, he stopped short. “Son of a…”

Blake had apparently decided to do a little decorating when he went out to start the engine. Just Married had been scrawled across the back glass with white shoe polish, and a big white paper bell had been attached to the tailgate.

“I see you’ve been busy,” Eli said. He cupped Victoria’s elbow with his hand and they descended the steps.

“I take the job of being best man very seriously,” Blake said, laughing. He clicked off several pictures as his grandmother threw handfuls of rice at them. “Part of that job is to decorate the groom’s wheels.”

“I’ll get you for doing all of this,” Eli said under his breath as Grandma Jean stopped throwing rice to hug Victoria.

Blake laughed like a damned hyena. “I never doubted for a minute that you wouldn’t, dude.”

When they reached the truck, Eli opened the passenger door for his new wife, but instead of helping her step up onto the running board to climb into the cab, he swung her up into his arms. She brought her arms up automatically to encircle his neck and he found himself surrounded by the light scent of her enticing perfume.

“Wh-why did you do that?” she asked, wide-eyed and sounding a little breathless.

“There’s a patch of ice where you were about to step and I didn’t want you to fall,” he said as he set her down on the front seat.

She frowned. “I don’t remember it being there when we arrived.”