Marriage For Sale

“Learning how to cope with you will be a useful skill indeed.”

He examined her, his green eyes narrow. “Believe me, I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

Rachel quailed at the thought. Yet also felt exhilarated. Afraid that he might be making fun of her again, Rachel held his gaze. “What do you mean?” she asked pointedly.

“For one thing, get used to the idea that you’ll be moving to town at some point. I figure it may take you a week or two to learn how to cope. If you don’t cooperate—”

“You are my husband,” Rachel replied stiffly. “Of course I shall cooperate.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing for the past hour—cooperating?”

“I have an unfortunate habit of speaking my mind. Forgive me.”

“I want you to speak your mind,” he said, in what sounded to her like exaggerated forbearance. “But you better be listening when I’m speaking about what’s on my mind. Specifically, learning what I want you to learn.”

She placed her hand over her heart in a grand show of her own forbearance. “I swear on my mother’s grave. Or do you wish for me to cross my heart and hope to die?” she asked tartly.

What he wished was for her to stop using those quaint expressions he remembered using as a kid—when he was still playful and innocent. “No,” he retorted. “I want you alive so I can wring your scrawny little neck.”

Rachel clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from smiling too broadly at him. It was one thing to bait a bear—quite another to provoke him. She had made her point. Rubbing it in would accomplish nothing. Removing her hand, she wagged her finger at him. “You are a great one for joshing.”

“The word is joking,” he said, sending her the sternest of glances. “Use it.”

“Joking,” she repeated obediently, though she was having trouble maintaining a reasonably sober expression.

“That’s your first lesson. The next one is to realize that Tall Timber is going to be your future home. I’ll give you until the end of the month to get ready to live there. After that, you’ll be on your own whether you’re ready or not.”

“I understand. However, you shall not regret your decision to take me to your ranch. Thank you.”

“I’m already regretting it, thanks to you,” he groused.

Rachel hid her smile so as not to antagonize him further. Horses, her most favorite of animals, had their own way of grousing, too. They liked to put up a spirited resistance when asked to comply with her wishes. It was their way of reminding her that they weighed far more than she did and possessed lethal power. But her willingness to speak until she was fully heard kept the balance of power intact.

There was little doubt in her mind that though Linc was less than enthusiastic about their marriage, once he understood what a valuable asset she was on his ranch, he wouldn’t want to let her go—either as a help mate or a wife.

Three

“Good gracious, Linc, what a marvel to behold. Your ranch is beyond anything I could have imagined,” Rachel exclaimed when the pickup crested the last hill, revealing the panoramic view that included the main buildings of the Triple M Ranch. Designed to look as though it had sprung from this land more than a century ago, the buildings blended into the austere landscape, with their weathered barn siding and steep, shake roofs.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he warned, dedicated to squelching her enthusiasm. “You won’t be staying here long.”

“Even so, I’ve rarely seen such a sight. And look at your dogs. I love dogs.” In one quick move, she hopped from the pickup before it came to a complete stop and waded into the yapping pack, showing a complete and utter disregard for her own safety.

“Rachel!” By the time he halted the truck, the dogs were swarming around her like bees to honey. Luckily they were friendly, but Rachel couldn’t have known that when she took it into her head to jump from a moving truck. She needed more than a few lessons on how to survive in town. She needed to be taught how to survive, period.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Linc opened the gate to the nearest round pen and drove the entire rig inside. Once he let down the trailer door in back, Summer would come charging out. Shortcuts like spooking a horse into submission always resulted in more work down the line, especially with a spirited, inexperienced filly like this one. But in this case, he had little choice.

His ranch foreman, Bud Sylvester, an athletically trim, grizzled cattle veteran, showed up in the yard to see what the ruckus was all about. Following from the bunkhouse, came the motherly form of Linda Amato, the ranch housekeeper, wearing her customary double pocket smock, gingham blouse, blue jeans and red banana. Rachel ran toward them with the barking pack of dogs at her heels, her skirt flying, gaily waving hello like she’d known them all her life.

Linc could only imagine what Bud and Linda must be thinking at the sight of Rachel. Her long dress alone marked her as a member of The Community. Even if they were as ignorant as he had been about their customs and didn’t guess about the marriage, he still had to explain what she was doing here. Guests weren’t scarce to the Triple M, but female guests attached to him were. Not that Linc didn’t like the ladies. But he liked even better to keep his personal life private.

He hurried to manage the introductions as all of them came together and the dogs quieted down. “Rachel, I’d like you to meet the best housekeeper and all around troubleshooter in the business, Linda Amato. She keeps this place humming whether I’m training my horses here or traveling on a buying trip. Linda, this is Rachel.”

“Hi, Rachel,” Linda said, brushing back her salt and pepper curls and beaming a smile outlined in cheery red lipstick. She extended her hand, jangling the silver bracelets on her wrist.

Much impressed by Linda’s warmth and style, Rachel shook the hand and curtsied, too. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Linda.”

Linc gestured to Bud. “This is my foreman, Bud Sylvester. He sees to the day-to-day operations of the ranch.”

Bud removed his battered straw cowboy hat from his silvered hair and nodded his head. “How ’do, ma’am.”

Rachel shook hands without curtseying this time, much to Linc’s relief. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Sylvester.”

Without missing a beat, Linc draped his arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “If you’re going to call him that, then he better call you Mrs. Monroe.”

Clapping her hands to her mouth, Linda squealed in excitement. Bud scratched his head, looking from Linda to Rachel to Linc. “Naw. Can’t be.”

“My wife,” Linc confirmed, taking perverse satisfaction in seeing Bud’s mouth drop open in shock. Very little surprised Bud. And Linda usually had a pretty calm head on her shoulders. But not today.

“Congratulations,” Linda cried, pumping Rachel’s hand up and down. “It’s about time Lincoln Monroe settled down and decided to be happy.”

Linc forestalled more ridiculous outbursts by squeezing Rachel’s shoulders. “Before the Missus and I go inside the house and enjoy the really happy part, there’s plenty of work that needs doing. Bud, I picked up fifty head of working cattle and a real beaut of an untried filly. She’s in the trailer, if you want to take a look. Linda, don’t worry about supper for Rachel and me. I do need you to make up the master bedroom, though, please.”

Linda bustled away immediately, while Bud appeared to have eyes for Rachel only. “Well, I’ll be damn—Jim Dandy. Congratulations, little lady. I wonder if you could oblige me with the story of how—”

“She’s had a long day, Bud,” Linc cut in. “Get ready to unload the filly while I show Rachel into the house.”

“But there’s so much to see,” she answered, swinging away toward the barn. By the time Linc explained what he wanted from Bud and caught up with Rachel, she was well inside the barn, her head tipped back to check out he-knew-not-what. “Goodness gracious. I’ve never seen so many stalls in one barn before. You didn’t tell me you had a horse operation.”

He took her elbow and firmly reversed her direction, propelling her back the way she had come. “I didn’t tell you for a reason. It’s none of your business.”

“Certainly you can’t blame me for my curiosity.”

He figured there was no harm in humoring her as long as she kept moving. “I made a name for myself ropin’ and ridin’ in rodeos. Now that I’m retired, folks have taken to hiring me to train their horses.”

“Is that why you bought the filly…to train her for someone else?”

“Not exactly. I may keep her for myself, depending on how she turns out.”

“Thank heavens you found me to help.” Rachel paused to rub the nose of the gelding in the stall nearest the door. “The filly is intelligent and well conformed, but unschooled.”

“Rachel, the last thing I need—”

“Goodness gracious,” she exclaimed, rising up on the tips of her shoes to better see over the nearest stall door. “That broodmare is about ready to burst.”

“She’s carrying twins,” he said dryly, knowing exactly what Rachel was up to. Question was, how to handle it. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“The mare needs looking after. I can’t believe you would leave her alone.”