Troubled Water: Lone Star Love Book One Page 3

  The sun streamed through the window leaving a single stripe of light across the plaid blanket and onto the floor when she awoke. It was late. How long had she slept? What would they think of her lazing abed half the morning?

  After rinsing her face, she put on the dress she had been married in yesterday and hurried from the room. Lupe looked up from her work as she entered.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Manning.” She offered a bright smile.

  “Oh, please call me Megan.” She returned the smile. “I’m going to use the outhouse, and then you can put me to work.” Megan dashed with resolute steps from the house.

  Lupe sat at the table, pencil and paper in hand, when Megan returned. “Come help me with this list. Jefe said he would take you to town tomorrow and pick up supplies.” She wrote down a few more items and scowled into the distance, deep in thought. “Anything you want on this list?”

  “Do we have baking soda? I’d like to make Michael some soda bread. I’d need buttermilk and flour, too.”

  “I’ll put soda on the list. We keep flour on hand, and we get milk from our dairy cows, so buttermilk is fresh after the churning.” Lupe wrote the item on her list.

  “Lupe, I heard you calling Michael jefe. What does that mean?”

  Lupe laughed, “It means boss in Spanish.”

  Megan gave this a serious think before nodding her head. Her face hot, she peeked at Lupe through lowered lashes. “I’m sorry you were spanked. It was my fault.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t know if my letter would work, but I’m mighty satisfied. It was worth a little seat warming.” She gave Megan a big smile and patted her hand.

  Friends. It felt like friendship, and Megan had been wanting a friend for ever so long. “What can I do to help?”

  “Mike gave his orders. He wants you to rest today. Come on into the kitchen, and we’ll have dinner. You slept right through breakfast. The men are out looking for those rustlers and won’t be home until supper.” Megan followed Lupe into the kitchen. It was a clean, orderly room. Megan would enjoy cooking here. It would be pure pleasure.

  “Let me help.” Megan picked up an apron and was tying it around her waist when Lupe stopped her.

  “You have a might to learn. Jefe said rest. We’ll both be in trouble if you don’t do it.” She waited until understanding dawned in Megan’s eyes.

  “He’ll spank me?” Her voice trembled.

  “He might do. I wouldn’t be testing the waters just yet. You sit and watch me cook. You’ll be resting and learning where things are and how they work at the same time.” Lupe pointed at a chair pulled up to a plain wooden table. “Another order from jefe. He asked about your clothes, and I told him you didn’t have much.”

  “I have two dresses. I don’t need more.” Megan’s cheeks flared deep pink.

  “Now, listen to me, girl. Don’t put up no fuss. The man wants his wife to have what she needs and a little extra. You buy at least three more dresses, underclothes, nightgowns and a pair of boots. A shawl or two and a bonnet for home and another for town.” Lupe waited with hands on hips.

  “I don’t need so much,” Megan told her.

  “Jefe will be proud to do this for you. Your job is to thank him. Understood?” Neither Lupe or her fisted hands had moved.

  “Yes, Lupe. Thank you. My ma always said I was a stubborn as a rock.” Megan lifted her shoulders in a repentant shrug.

  “Well, you might be a rock, but jefe is a hard spot. Don’t get caught in between.” Lupe sat down with two sandwiches on a plate. She picked one up and took a big bite. “Help yourself. Jefe says you need to fatten up, and you are to nap after lunch.”

  “Well, I never. I know what I need to eat and when I need to sleep.” Her face took on the hue of her fiery hair.

  “You best learn to control that red-headed temper, girl. If not, jefe will control it for you.” Lupe continued to eat her sandwich. “Just words to the wise. Words to the wise.”

  “It’s a fault for certain sure. I’ll try.” Megan took a deep breath and picked up her sandwich. “This is good. Thank you, Lupe. I can only eat half.” She nibbled at her food before setting the remainder on the platter.

  “Off for that nap. Jefe will be back about four.” Lupe scooped her hands toward the door.

  Megan huffed as she threw herself onto the bed. She wasn’t a child. When she was tired, she would sleep. But days of travel, days of stress, days of worry, carried her down into deep slumber. She dreamt of green hills, crashing water and rocky beaches.

  She was awakened by a kiss sliding over her skin, a gentle shake on the shoulder, and a quiet voice whispering in her ear. “Wake up, little darlin’.”

  The dream of her girlhood was fresh and cool but waking to a real kiss, real hands and a low voice hot in her ear sang of a future not a past; a life to be lived, not one to be feared. She placed her palm on the side of Michael’s face and stroked. The end-of-day whiskers scratched and scraped against her palm.

  Megan sighed. This was her husband. Husband. The word send a thrill and a shiver racing down her spine.

  “Hello, husband.” The word spoken aloud was better yet. It held a world of possibilities. She was away. She was safe. She would be a good wife to this man. For certain and for sure.

  Chapter 4

  Mike

  When he lifted his little bride up to the wagon’s seat, her bottom skimmed within inches of his face. Lord have mercy, he wanted to give it a pat. More than that if truth were told. He restrained his hand, but his manhood jerked in agreement with his wandering thoughts. Well, after they knew one another, after she was truly his as a wife should be, he’d pat that little butt any time he felt like it.

  Patience. He would be patient and not scare her. He had hopes for passion and fire in their bed. That flaming hair might conceal hidden fire. A man could hope.

  Caesar trotted to the wagon, tail wagging and tongue hanging happily from his mouth. He looked at Mike with a clear question in his eyes.

  “Sorry, Caesar. Not this time.” Mike pointed at the porch. “Guard.” His voice was all command.

  Caesar’s tail dropped and his head drooped, but he turned and dutifully mounted the porch, dropped his big body to the boards and placed his head between his paws. His big eyes followed Mike’s every movement in reproachful arcs. He launched one last mournful bark.

  Mike laughed. “He likes to have the last word.”

  He climbed into the wagon and took the reins. With a snap and a whistle the wagon jolted to a start.

  “Who named him Caesar?” Megan turned to watch the dog disappear from sight.

  “Oh, Skip did. My cousin.” He looked down on her mass of springy curls. “He was away at school, but I wrote and told him I was getting a new dog. He said to name him Caesar after some old Roman. I liked it, so Caesar it is.” He paused. “Skip was always one for the books. Loved to read. Me, I love to ride. Say, don’t you have a bonnet? With your pale skin, you’ll burn to a crisp. We’ll get some today. I know Lupe made a list.” He frowned at her exposed head.

  Megan shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t need all those clothes on Lupe’s list.”

  “Lupe said you might kick up a fuss.” They rode in silence for a bit. The morning air was sweet, and he enjoyed her company. “Scoot on over here, darlin’. I won’t bite.” He sent her his best smile to encourage the move. Megan slid in his direction. Mike looped one long arm around her and pulled until her hips touched his. “There.” He announced his satisfaction.

  “Do you ride, Megan?” Mike asked.

  “No. In Ireland only the wealthy have horses—English mostly. Boston was a crowded city.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

  She gave a little start at the second question. “Mercy, no. Now why would a girl like me be shooting a gun?” Her chin rose a bit.

  Mike looked at it for a moment. Maybe he could read her moods by the angle of that sharp, little chin.

 
“To protect yourself.” Mike replied. “I hope it won’t ever be necessary, but you might run across a snake and need to kill it. On the ranch, we use guns to signal for help and communicate. Three shots mean you need help. If we are searching for someone, two shots and we know they’ve been found, and we call off the search.”

  “Who gets lost?” Her voice held worry.

  “Well, last year one of the hands fell and broke his leg. He shot three times, so we went searching. When he was found, two shots.” He stopped and looked down at his wife. “It’s important for someone to know where you are. Every morning, Manuel or I tell the boys where to work. If we hear three shots, we know where to begin a search. Remember that Megan. Never leave sight of the house without telling someone or at the very least, leave a note.”

  “All right, Michael.” Megan nodded.

  “Of course, it will be quite a while before I’ll allow you to go out of sight of the house.”

  “Well, Mr. Manning, I’ll have you know I’ll take a walk if I want.”

  He watched her chin rise. “Well, Mrs. Manning, I’ll have you know that if you do any such thing until I think it’s safe, there will be consequences.”

  The chin held steady. “You would spank me for taking a walk?” Her voice was a whisper.

  “I would spank you for putting yourself in danger.” He took her small hand into his. “This isn’t Ireland or Boston, darlin’. Until you know and understand the dangers of the range, you won’t leave sight of the house. Understood?”

  The chin slowly dropped, and her red curls bobbed in agreement.

  They rode in an unquiet silence. Michael didn’t want to ruffle her feathers, but she didn’t understand the perils of Texas. When she’d been here longer, he’d loosen the reins.

  “I’d like to teach you to ride and shoot. We ride for work on the ranch but also for pleasure. After you learn, we could ride to town or further up the river.” Mike spoke with confidence. Riding was as easy as breathing and as necessary.

  “Jaysus, Mary and Joseph,” her voice rushed out on a single breath. “I’m afraid of those giant beasts. They won’t like me. I won’t like them. I think we best forget that plan.” The curls bobbed double-time.

  “Now, Megan. It’s a matter of safety as well as convenience. If you need to go for help or get away for any reason, you’ll need to be able to ride a horse.” He held up his hand to stall the comment he saw building behind her eyes. “John Wayne breeds and trains horses. I planned to stop there on our way home and see if he has a small horse, maybe a little filly. Add a split skirt to Lupe’s clothing list. I won’t have my wife wearing britches.” He guffawed at the idea.

  Megan gave a reluctant nod.

  “And you need to be able to handle a gun. In case you run into an unfriendly animal, human or otherwise, who means you harm. Or to give those signals I told you about. It’s for your safety. There is a little pistol back at the ranch that belonged to Skip’s ma. It should be perfect for you.” Mike’s words rushed forward before she could lodge a protest, but she seemed content with his dictates.

  “We’re almost to town. Before we get there, I have a question.” He lifted one brow and peered down at his little wife. “Do you remember when we toured the house, I showed you Uncle Ray’s room?”

  “I do,” she replied.

  “When you’re ready, I’d like that to be our room. It’s the biggest, and Uncle Ray and my aunt shared it.” He swallowed and peered down at her bosom swaying gently in time to the rocking of the wagon. “I’d like you to fix it up for us. New curtains, a quilt or a rug or two. Buy what you need. Can you do that? Make it a place that’s ours?”

  “I can, and I would like to. Where are Uncle Ray and Skip? Will I meet them?”

  “Uncle Ray is dead. His son, Skip, was my best friend and my cousin. He married about six years ago, and I haven’t seen him since. He put the deed to the ranch in my name and said he wouldn’t be back. They headed for Montana.” He gave the reins a little slap. “I never expected to own the Circle M, but it’s mine. I’ve always loved ranching. It’s in my blood.”

  The wagon rolled into town and people paused to watch it roll by. A tall girl with brown hair frowned. She turned in a flurry of skirts and disappeared inside the building.

  “Did you see that, Michael? That girl was mad. What did we do?” Megan pulled her brows together and pursed her lips.

  “Oh, that’s Sally Ann Murphy. She set her cap for Skip, but when he married Ellen and left me the ranch, she set her sights on me. I don’t believe she much cared for either one of us. She just wanted to get her hands on the Circle M.”

  “I have a letter I’d like to mail.” Megan watched the last of Sally Ann’s skirts swish into the building. “Will you help me post it?”

  “Of course. Is it to your uncle?” He didn’t want to pry, but an urge to know snaked its way to the surface of his mind.

  “No. I don’t want my uncle to know where I am. I hope never to see that greedy man ever again.” She gave a little shudder. “It’s for my friend, Charlotte. She’ll be worried. I want her to know everything worked out and that I’m fine.”

  Mike pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the Mercantile and jumped out. He reached back and circled her waist with his hands and swung her to the ground. He looped the reins over a hitching post before offering Megan his arm.

  Mike’s chest felt swollen twice its size so proud he was to have little Megan hanging on his arm as they entered the Mercantile.

  “Howdy, Henry.” Mike approached the man leaning on the counter. “This is my wife, Megan. Megan, this is Henry, and this lovely lady is Henry’s wife, Martha. They own this store and do a mighty fine job running it.” He handed Lupe’s list to Martha. “Megan has a letter she’d like to mail.” He looked down at his tiny bride. “If you give it to Henry, he’ll be sure it’s on the next stage.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Megan smiled. She retrieved her letter from her bag and placed it in Henry’s outstretched hand.

  “We heard tell you got hitched. Sally Ann was fit to be tied. I can tell you that.” He laughed. “Welcome to San Miguel, Megan.”

  Martha perused the list and handed it to her husband. “Gather everything but the clothes. I’ll help Megan with that.” She pulled Megan to the back of the store.

  “We have some nice ready-made in small sizes.” She pulled skirts, dresses and blouses from the little rack. “Do you like these?”

  Mike joined the two women. “I like this one.” He pointed at a dress the color of her clear blue eyes. Martha laid it aside as Mike continued to make his preferences known.

  Martha carried the selections to the counter. “Michael, it’s too much. Please, put some back.”

  “I can afford it, Megan.” He leaned in close. “Don’t fuss, darlin’.” He gave her bottom a warning pat.

  “Now let’s look at material for curtains and such. You can make yourself a dress or two if you want.”

  “Oh, I love to sew.” She hurried to a table piled high with fabric.

  Standing in pride of place in the front window was a treadle sewing machine. Mike drifted to the display and motioned to Henry. “Add one of these to my order. I’m hankerin’ to get my bride a gift.”

  Megan’s pile of fabric, thread, buttons and lace grew into a small mountain. “I plan to make a quilt for our bed out of this blue and beige fabric. Do you like it?”

  She blushed that pretty pink he’d come to like. “I do. Henry has loaded the wagon. We’ll stop at the Waynes’ on the way out of town and talk horses.” Mike placed her hand in the crook of his arm and held the door open.

  “John was a Texas Ranger before starting his horse business. His wife, Marcie, is the town midwife.” He dropped his arm around her shoulders. “I hope you want children, Megan. I sure do.”

  “Oh yes, I love little ones.” Her face blushed again.

  “Well, I hope we need Marcie’s help soon and often.” The pink progressed to light re
d and crept down her neck. He’d surely like to know how far down that blush went.

  Mike pulled the wagon to a stop in front of a two-story white house. Two children who had been throwing a stick for a dog ran into the house at their approach. A woman appeared, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist.

  “Hello, Mike.” She waved and descended the stairs to meet them.

  “Hello, Marcie. This is my wife, Megan.”

  “Hello, Megan. It’s nice to meet you. Mike’s marriage was a pleasant surprise. I wish you many years of happiness.” Marcie extended her hand.

  “I was hoping to see John about a horse. Is he in the barn?” Mike asked.

  “He is. Go on out. I’ll get us something cool to drink. When you finish your business, join us on the porch.” Marcie looped her arm around Megan’s waist, and he watched them walk toward the house.

  John met him at the entrance to the barn. “Hey Mike. I heard you tell Marcie you wanted a horse. Who is it for?”

  “My bride.” If he grinned any harder, his face might break. “She’s never ridden and is afraid of horses. I think her main fear is their size.”

  “I think I have just the horse. Her name is Bunny. Ava’s been riding Bunny, but she’s ready for a more challenging mount. Over here.” John motioned to the stall at the end. Light brown with two white socks, Bunny was a beauty.

  He entered the stall and the sweet girl nuzzled him like a dog begging to be petted. “She’s perfect. I’ll take her.”

  “I’ll throw in the saddle. It’s too small for most of the horses.” The two men started for the house.

  The women were chatting and the two children sat on the swing sipping lemonade and eating sandwiches.

  “We better head on home, darlin’.” Mike offered Megan his hand and helped her to her feet.

  “I’d like to be home before dark.” He turned to John. “There’s been some rustling on my ranch. We’ve been looking, but so far have only found cold camp fires. I’d hate to meet them on the road after dark in a wagon with a woman and a small horse tied to the back. We’d be easy pickins.”