Boots Under Her Bed Page 4

  She nodded, suddenly looking nervous. “The bedroom is through that door. You can put your trunk in there.”

  She began unloading all they’d bought. Between trips he watched her unpacking the new sheets and pillows as if they were a gift and not something she’d bought.

  When he brought in his trunk, she said, “Set your trunk over here, Luke.” She pulled a rocker to the side of a window. “This is your room. I’ve already cleaned out the top drawer.”

  “Our room,” he corrected loud enough for her to hear.

  “Our room now, I guess,” she repeated as he walked to the bedroom door. “I put the furniture back like it was when my parents were alive. My father always said he liked to wake up with the sun shining in his face.”

  “Then, we’ll sleep in there,” Luke said, taking a step to continue unloading.

  She froze. “But I always sleep on the cot by the fire in the main room.”

  “You’re my wife. You’ll sleep with me now. I’ll keep you warm.”

  She didn’t look too happy about the suggestion so he tried to be kind. “Take your time getting ready for bed, but we sleep together. I’ll wash up in the kitchen. In a house this size it shouldn’t be too much trouble finding my way back.”

  He watched her carefully, fearing that she’d run or scream or finally turn into that crazy person everyone thought she was. But, to his surprise, she picked up her things and walked into the kitchen. “No. I’ll change in the kitchen. I have to cover the birdcages and check on the animals in the barn.”

  Walking around in the little bedroom, Luke slowly placed his new clothes in the drawers, leaving his trunk packed. There wasn’t much he’d brought that would be useful in this new life he’d awakened to, but all he owned in the world was in that one trunk.

  He’d gone to sleep in that alley wishing he were dead, and by sunup, he was married to a woman he still wasn’t sure saw the real world. He knew he was pushing her again, but he hadn’t started this marriage. She’d asked him. They were married and married people slept together. It was as simple as that.

  Stripping down to his long johns, Luke lit a fire in the corner fireplace and waited. The house creaked and shifted in the wind. This country was colder than he’d thought it would be, but then, he’d never really thought about the weather. All he’d wanted when he boarded the train was to get to Shallow Creek and find Dorothy. He had money for the trip back and a small, two-room apartment promised him in Richmond. The job at an old law firm downtown wasn’t much, but it would pay enough to get by and be far better than working in a mine. All he needed was her. His Dorothy. The only woman he’d ever dreamed about. She’d looked so adorable in her bonnet at church that first time. She’d smiled at him and invited him to sit with her at the social, and he’d fallen hard.

  Only, when she’d opened the door to him four days ago, she hadn’t looked the same. The young, carefree girl he’d met had aged far more than three years, it seemed. Her warm brown hair had dulled and the blush on her cheeks was gone. She looked shorter and far heavier than he remembered. It took him a few seconds to realize that she was pregnant, and, by then, she was yelling at him with a voice that would have shamed a crow.

  He hadn’t told her he was coming and somehow that one wrong outweighed all that she’d done—in her view, anyway. Luke closed his eyes, remembering how he’d stood like a fool listening to her yell at him, wondering what had happened to the shy girl he’d met three years before and sworn to love forever.

  She’d tossed his letters at him and called him a paper lover. A daydream, she’d said, nothing real.

  Luke barely remembered picking up the letters and walking away. If he’d come and found her dead and buried, he would have mourned and gone on with his life, but she was alive and the only thing to mourn was the life he’d planned.

  She’d ripped it away, leaving nothing. The job, the apartment waiting for him, all looked so dark and lonely without her. He knew he couldn’t go back to Richmond, but he had nowhere to go forward.

  When he’d wandered into the saloon, he’d thought only to wait for the train, but he was so drunk the first night he missed the midnight train heading east. The next night he’d been sick from no food and far too much whiskey. The third night, he no longer cared; he just drank until his money was gone.

  He’d been a fighter all his life with one dream and now he felt hollow inside. If Callie hadn’t found him, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have just forgotten to breathe once in that alley and died. Only she had found him and, crazy or not, she’d given him a reason to keep breathing.

  Looking toward the door, he saw her standing there, her hair wild around her shoulders, her white nightgown draped all the way to her bare toes.

  “Come on, Mrs. Morgan, it’s time to go to bed.” He lifted the covers on the side of the bed nearest to the fire and waited.

  She didn’t meet his eyes as she walked toward him and climbed in.

  He tucked her in and circled the bed. Turning off the one lantern, he crawled in with only firelight brightening the room.

  “Lift your gown,” he said after he’d settled a few inches away from her. “You said you wanted a real marriage and that’s what we’ll have.”

  His wife didn’t move.

  Luke had no idea what to do or say next. He figured he wanted to mate with her only slightly more than she wanted to mate with him, but it was what married people did and he was willing to do his part.

  Chapter 6

  CALLIE waited in the darkness knowing she should have talked about the sleeping arrangements before now. She should have set down some rules for the short time they were living in the same house, like no sleeping together, but she’d been the one who’d insisted they have a real marriage.

  “What is it?” she asked when he didn’t move.

  “Callie,” he said, “am I real to you? Real flesh and blood, I mean?”

  “You are, Luke.” She thought of saying thank you for all he’d done, but he would have just said he was earning his half of the herd.

  “Good,” he finally said. “That’s a start.”

  “I’m not lifting my gown,” she added.

  “All right, but you should know that’s what people who are married do. They mate.”

  She was glad it was so dark. She never could have faced him and talked about this. “I know. I just don’t think I’m attracted to you in that way.” She’d liked the kiss, but she wasn’t ready for more.

  “I understand. You’re pretty, Callie, real pretty, but you’re not the kind of woman I’m attracted to, either.”

  A few minutes before, she’d thought she was exhausted, but now, after what he’d just said, she knew she couldn’t sleep. Relieved but a little insulted, she asked, “What kind of woman are you attracted to?”

  Again he took his time answering. “Short ones, with brown hair and eyes, I guess.”

  “Like Dorothy Trimble? So that means you like women who are well-rounded.” Callie frowned. Dorothy was so well-rounded she was surprised the woman didn’t fall forward when she walked.

  He was so close she could hear him take a deep breath before he said, “I don’t want to talk about Dorothy.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  “No.” He touched her hand that rested between them. “She never loved me, either.”

  “Good.” Callie squeezed his hand. “Because I’m the one who loves Luke Morgan.”

  He laughed. “You don’t have to say that when we’re alone.”

  “I don’t mind. I kind of like the idea of saying I love someone. Maybe I’ll just decide to keep saying it. Seems to me if love was a decision and not a feeling, there would be far less problems in this world.”

  “I’d like that.” He didn’t turn loose of her hand. “You can say you love me whenever you feel like it.” He took a long breath as if somehow they’d settled something between them. “Good night, Callie.”

  “And you can ask me to lift my gown, but I’m nev
er promising such a thing.”

  “Fair enough.” He sounded half-asleep.

  “Good night, Luke.” She rolled to her side so that his arm touched her breasts just to let him know that she might not be well-rounded, but she still had curves.

  In the darkness they could be together, two people no one loved.

  He’d saved her today, but the nightmare of what it would have been like to be locked away in an asylum haunted her dreams.

  When her mother first married Thornville, Callie ran away, not wanting to face the thought of some other man trying to take her father’s place. It had taken him all day, but he’d caught up to her and brought her back. He’d locked her in an old abandoned root cellar for two days before he told her mother that he’d found her. She’d thought she would go mad in the darkness, and his telling her he’d done it to teach her a lesson hadn’t helped matters.

  Thornville had told everyone he’d found her living like a wild animal down by the river, and she’d been too frightened and hungry to correct him. That day, he’d been the hero and she’d been marked as crazy.

  They’d never talked of why he’d locked her away but she knew if she ran away again and he caught her, he’d let her die in that cellar. Even six years later the nightmare of being hungry and cold still haunted her.

  As she dreamed of being surrounded by the smell of rotting food and the sounds of tiny animals moving around her, she cried out for help and felt Luke’s arm circle her shoulder.

  “It’s all right, Callie. It’s only a dream.” He sounded more asleep than awake.

  “I know,” she answered, fearing that he might think she didn’t know the difference. “But will you hold me until I fall back asleep?”

  “Of course,” he said against her ear. “I find I like touching you. I have all day, you know.” His hand moved down her back in a comforting caress. “Since I’ve been grown, I’ve never had a woman to touch. It feels nice having you next to me.”

  “I know what you mean,” she answered as she slipped into dreams. “I haven’t minded at all. I like knowing you’re near in the dark.”

  “Me, too. Maybe we can protect each other from the nightmares.”

  “I’d like that.” She hesitantly placed her hand over his heart and drifted back to sleep without dreams haunting her.

  When she awoke at dawn, he was gone and she wondered if she’d dreamed the way he’d held her.

  Mamie stood at the foot of her bed watching her. “You have the dreams again, child?”

  “Not so bad last night,” Callie answered as she stood and began to dress. “I’ll fix your coffee.”

  Mamie nodded. “There was a man in the kitchen when I got here. One of the hands said he’s the new boss. That true?”

  “That’s true,” Callie answered. “I married him yesterday.”

  Mamie took everything in stride. She and her husband had worked for Callie’s grandfather when he first settled here and as long as Cramers had this place, they’d have a home. Mamie might show up for work every morning, but she wasn’t able to do much more than dust and clean the birdcages. The bunkhouse cook made sure the old couple had breakfast and dinner. Callie always sent a lunch home with the old woman before she got too tired.

  After she’d had her morning coffee, Callie walked out on the porch and found her new husband leaning back in one of the new rockers with his feet propped on the porch railing.

  He held up a paper. “I’ve made a list of the things that need repair. When we go over to the main house to make sure Thornville is gone, I’ll pick up supplies and start to work.”

  She hesitated. “You’re not going to want to move to the big house?”

  “I like it here.” He grinned and winked. “And, since you made our new bed here, I’m guessing you do, too. So, unless you’d rather move, I’m happy right here. Any more than two rooms to a house would make me nervous.”

  He stood slowly in front of her and brushed a tear off her cheek.

  “I thought you might want to move. I love it here.”

  “Then we stay,” he whispered, brushing her damp cheek with a kiss. “You, me, and all your critters.”

  She looked up, deciding she’d been wrong. This husband she’d found in the alley was handsome.

  Chapter 7

  LUKE wasn’t surprised to see the sheriff step from the bunkhouse as they pulled up to the main house.

  As Sheriff Adams started walking toward them he yelled, “Thought you should know. The foreman said Thornville was here yesterday probably right after he saw you and Callie Anne in town. He stayed long enough to load a wagon.”

  Luke jumped to the ground and reached for Callie. She let him help her down from the wagon then ran into the house.

  He followed her and the sheriff inside. The place looked like it had been raided. Chairs were overturned, bookshelves wiped clean of books, drawers left open. Even with the mess, Luke could tell the place had been a comfortable home. A far cry from his two rooms back in Virginia. He’d had a bed, a desk, and one chair. It had been the cheapest place he could find and he hadn’t minded because he was saving every dime he could.

  Now, he watched his new wife walk through the rooms crying silently as she righted a chair or smoothed a cloth back across a table as she moved. In one corner, what had once been a glassed-in display cabinet was now rubble on the floor. Tiny figurines lay among the glass, shattered.

  Luke knelt and carefully moved a stick through the broken glass, hoping to find one of the little statues still in one piece, but they’d all been too fragile to survive the tumble.

  “Can you tell what’s missing?” the sheriff asked.

  Callie sounded more dazed than angry. “My mother’s pictures. Her jewelry. All the guns including my grandfather’s old Colt Walkers. The money for the household expenses and all the money in the safe.”

  Adams looked angry. “Add the wagon and four horses he took from the barn along with a new saddle and I’d say we got enough to arrest the man for theft.”

  Callie shook her head. “He’s gone. That’s all I wanted.”

  The sheriff turned to Luke. “That all right with you, Morgan?”

  Luke nodded. “It wouldn’t be worth the bother.”

  “All right. If that’s the way you want it, but if I know Thornville, he’ll have what he took gambled away in a month and be back for more.”

  Luke picked up a stack of books and set them on the shelf. A tiny figurine of a little milkmaid rolled from behind the books.

  He picked it up and handed it to Callie.

  She smiled. “This one,” she whispered, “was always my favorite.”

  Somehow the one treasure he’d found stopped her crying and made her smile.

  Luke saw his chance. “How about we deal with this mess later, Sunshine? Right now I’d like a cup of coffee while I meet the men working here. You want to introduce me?”

  She shook her head. “I never talked to them much. My mother said a bunkhouse is no place for a girl.”

  “She was right, but as my wife and the owner of this place, I think it’s about time you met every man who works for you.”

  The sheriff agreed.

  Luke felt her hesitation as he took her hand and walked with her across the yard to the bunkhouse. He introduced himself to the foreman, then, as he learned each man’s name, Luke introduced them to Callie. Not one laughed at her or made a single rude comment, but he kept one hand at her waist and the other balled in a fist at his side.

  The cook offered them breakfast, even though the men were finished. Luke talked to the men, giving the cook time to set a small table by the window. By the time the cowhands left, the bunkhouse was quiet as they ate and planned.

  Luke thanked the sheriff when they walked back outside. The wind was kicking up from the north, reminding them all that winter was still in full force. The lawman offered advice, but everyone knew there was little he could do to help. His job was in town and ranch folks were expected to handle any
problems on their own.

  As they walked back to the main house alone, Luke took Callie’s hand.

  “It’s going to be a long day,” he said in the stillness. “Seems like a lifetime’s passed since I looked up in the alley and saw you looking down at me. We made it through yesterday and we’ll make it through today.”

  Then, without a word, they began cleaning up the mess. Tossing out broken furniture and sweeping up glass. By midafternoon, when he helped her into the wagon, snow blew around in the air as thin as white dust.

  “You folks aren’t staying here?” the cook yelled from the bunkhouse door.

  “No,” Luke answered. “We’re heading back home. If it snows, you may not see us for a few days.”

  The old cook smiled. “I kind of figured that.” He lifted a big basket into the wagon. “I know the cottage is stocked, but I packed you a few more supplies. Kind of a honeymoon basket.” He winked at Luke. “See you folks when it warms up and you make it back over.”

  Luke thanked him, but Callie seemed lost in her own thoughts. She stared at the main house as they drove away, holding the tiny little figurine in her hand.

  When they got back, heavier snow had started falling. Luke took care of the horses and stocked up a few days’ worth of firewood beside the stove. When he made his third trip out for logs for the fireplace, he saw Callie feeding her animals, who’d all moved inside for the duration of the storm. There were more than he’d thought and every corner was filled with a nest or bungalow.

  She talked to them softly and he found himself wishing that she’d talk to him in that gentle way. All day she’d done little more than answer his questions in one-word sentences.

  By dusk, the temperature had dropped to near freezing. She spread a quilt by the fireplace and they ate bread with the cheese and jellies the cook had sent. He asked her questions and she talked some, but he thought she looked tired.

  When they finished eating, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Where do we put your mother’s little milkmaid so none of the animals around this place accidentally knock it over?”