Ain't No Angel (15 page)

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Authors: Peggy L Henderson

BOOK: Ain't No Angel
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Laney sensed the woman’s unease. Was it so abnormal that a woman didn’t know how to cook?

“Go fetch that pile of shirts I left in the kitchen,” Myra said firmly. Her bright smile was back. “Once we get your husband’s clothes cleaned, I’ll show you how to fix him a supper he’s not likely to forget anytime soon.”

Laney all but ran to do the woman’s bidding. She inhaled Tyler’s special scent when she grabbed the armful of shirts off the kitchen table, and rushed back to where Myra stood waiting for her by the front door. Together, they marched down the porch and around the side of the house. Steam rose from a large metal basin on a wooden stand.

Myra picked up a washboard and a cake of soap. She proceeded to show Laney how to scrub the clothes against the board to clean them. It looked like backbreaking work, but Laney absorbed every word the woman told her.

“You must come from a well to-do family. Did you have servants back east?” Myra asked conversationally as she worked. Laney dipped a shirt into the bucket of rinse water, and wrung out the excess moisture. She secured the shirt to the clothesline with a couple of wooden pins.

“I’ve just never had to do these things before,” she answered evasively. She busied herself with another shirt to avoid the woman’s perusing stare.

“That was a mighty brave thing for you to do, come all the way out west on your own.”

Laney shrugged. “I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into,” she answered truthfully. “I guess I just wanted a new start.” How was she going to keep her answers evasive if Myra decided to question her about her past? She’d already stretched the truth as far as she could during her conversations with Tyler. She hated sneaking around and lying to these people.

Myra handed the last shirt to Laney. She dipped it into the rinse water, then hung it alongside the others.

“Tyler is a good man. Whatever you think you need a new start from, he’ll do well by you. Just remember to do well by him.” The woman gripped Laney’s shoulder, and smiled sadly. “It’s good that he finally found himself a wife. Plum shame how that boy just immerses himself in his work and doesn’t socialize. He deserves some happiness after what happened to his pa.”

Laney met the woman’s gaze. Tyler had told her that his father was dead, but she never found out anything else.

“What happened?” she asked, and swallowed.

Myra frowned. “After Elizabeth . . . Tyler’s ma, up and left one day, Jonas was heartbroken. He loved that woman more than life itself.” She shook her head. “Can’t understand it myself, but there you have it. He gave that woman everything to make a fresh start, but in the end, old Lizzy just decided she wanted to go back to her old life, I guess. Left her husband and son and never looked back.” She paused, a hard look in her eyes. “Jonas never did try and find her. He always thought she’d come back on her own. Years passed, and he became a bitter man.” She paused, and stared Laney in the eye. “He finally hung himself a few years ago.”

Laney’s eyes widened. Understanding hit her like a kick to the chest. Tyler had been so suspicious of her since the first day. Did he think she was like his mother? That was the reason he didn’t want to get close to her. He didn’t want to start a relationship for fear she might leave one day?

You are like her, Laney. You’re going to leave, too.

Her mouth suddenly went dry. What was she supposed to do? Was that what the reverend meant when he said she could help Tyler? Help him overcome his fear of committing to a woman? She was the wrong person to do that. She wasn’t staying here in this time. The reverend knew that. If she succeeded in the task the reverend had given her, and Tyler started liking her, it would only make his commitment issues worse in the end. She would only hurt him when she left. Unless . . .

The reverend never intended to send me back home! He wants me to stay here.

Laney’s hands flew to her stomach. Nausea hit her, and she wheeled around, facing away from Myra.

“Are you all right, Laney?” Myra rushed to her side.

“I’m . . . I’m fine,” Laney stammered. She had to go see the reverend. She couldn’t stay in this time. It was impossible. She didn’t belong here.

“Well, then.” Myra clapped her hands together. “Lets get on up to the house and see what you’re gonna fix for supper tonight.”

Laney’s stomach lurched even more at the thought of food.  Quietly, she followed Myra back to the house. The widow ordered Eddie to fetch potatoes and a large chunk of beef from the smokehouse, and for the next couple of hours, she showed Laney how to heat the stove and prepare a roast. The meat sent a delicious smell through the house, when horses whinnied outside. The wheels of a buckboard creaked.

“I believe that’s George Junior, here to fetch me home.” Myra peered out the window. She turned toward Laney, and must have read the question in her eyes. “My son. He took over the livery and smithy back in town after my George died.”

“But the food isn’t done yet,” Laney protested. “Can’t you both stay for dinner . . . I mean, supper?”

Myra gathered her shawl that she’d draped around the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “It’s a long ride back to town, Laney. And I’m sure Tyler will want to spend a quiet evening with you.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

Men’s voices drifted in from outside, and Myra headed for the front door. Laney followed close on her heels.

“Well, speak of the devil.” The old woman shot a wide grin over her shoulder, and stepped out onto the porch. “Tyler, it’s good to see you.”

“Widow Hansen.”

Tyler’s strong voice reached Laney’s ear. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her earlier dilemma from this morning had all been forgotten this afternoon while she mulled over the things she’d learned about Tyler from the widow. Everything made sense to her now. His aloof manner, wanting to take things slow, the fact that he kept his distance.

Laney stepped out onto the porch. She knotted her hands tightly in front of her. She glanced up, and her eyes met Tyler’s. His gaze locked with hers, and his lips curved in a warm smile that took her breath away. She mentally shook her head. Her pulse hammered in her ears.

“You got yourself one fine and pretty wife, Tyler Monroe,” Widow Hansen called loudly, while accepting her son’s help down the steps. She walked up to Tyler and stuck her finger into his face. “You treat that gal right, you hear me?”

Tyler glanced up at Laney, and his smile widened.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and removed his hat. His eyes hadn’t left her.

Myra nodded in satisfaction, and turned to follow her son to their buggy. Before she allowed him to help her up into the rig, she abruptly turned and strode up to him again, one hand on her hip, and glared up at Tyler’s face. He finally stopped looking at Laney and gave his full attention to the widow.

“Get that wife of yours into town and buy her some decent clothes. You’re not that hard up that you can’t afford to dress her properly.”

Tyler’s eyebrows rose, and he cast a quick look at Laney again. The smile on his face gave away that he knew exactly why Widow Hansen would say that.

“Yes, ma’am.” His grin widened.

“Don’t you ‘yes, ma’am’ me.” She poked her finger into his chest.  “You shouldn’t let her run around in britches like she’s one of your hired hands. What in the world is wrong with you, boy?”

Tyler stared at the old woman, his lips twitching. “I’ll make sure she’s wearing proper clothes from now on, Myra,” he said, his voice serious.

The widow snorted. “I’ll be expecting you and Laney next weekend at my sixtieth birthday party.” She jabbed him one more time, then leaned heavily on her son’s arm to climb into their buggy.

Tyler sprang up the porch steps, and waved as the wagon rolled out of the yard.

“I take it you survived Widow Hansen?” he asked. The laughter in his voice was unmistakable.

Laney glanced up into those brown eyes of his. The lump in her throat thickened. All she could do was nod. Was he acting differently, or was it just her imagination? And why was he home already? This was the first time all week that he’d returned home before dark. 

Tyler’s forehead wrinkled. “Is everything all right?” He reached for her arm, and Laney backed away.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” she said hoarsely. She swallowed repeatedly. “Mrs. Hansen’s been very helpful.”

Tyler stared at her as if he didn’t believe her. “You went for a ride today, I take it?”

Laney nodded. She wrapped a nervous arm around her waist. “I need to get inside.” She turned abruptly, but Tyler caught her arm. She stiffened. Her eyes widened with apprehension when she glanced up at his handsome face. The smile was replaced by a serious expression.

“Laney, I don’t want you to go riding alone anymore.”

She gaped at him with an open mouth, too stunned to speak. Her limbs weakened with unease. Why did he not want her to ride alone anymore? Had the unknown rider from this morning told Tyler about what he’d seen her do with Rap? And how was she going to treat the stallion if she couldn’t get to him?

Laney swallowed her apprehension. She had to get to town. She had to convince the reverend to send her home. For now, she simply had to make sure she didn’t do anything to encourage Tyler to have an interest in her, for both their sakes.

 

Chapter 15

 

 

Tyler’s eyes followed the motion of Laney’s hand as she ran a brush over Charlie’s back. After Widow Hansen left, he told her he needed to unsaddle his horse, and asked her to accompany him. When she handed the brush back to him, Tyler gave the gelding a final pat before releasing the horse into the paddock. He’d already braced himself for an argument. Damn! This was not how he planned for this day to end. The moment he uttered the words that he didn’t want Laney to ride alone anymore, she’d stiffened up. First, a hint of panic, then fear, and finally anger had flooded her eyes. She hadn’t said a word when she fell in step beside him. A silent woman was often more lethal than one who spouted off at the mouth. At least that’s what he’d heard from other men.

Tyler led the way back to the house. Once they reached the porch, he turned to face her. Laney stared up at him, an expectant look in her eyes. Her mouth fell open and a worried look marred her pretty face. Tyler almost regretted his harsh words earlier. The last thing he wanted was to upset her or argue with her. After his visit with Ian Frasier this morning, he’d called an early end to his workday with the intent of spending the remainder of the afternoon with his wife. When was the last time he’d come home before sundown? Having her stand here on the porch, with the early evening sun turning her hair into spun gold, had brought a tightening to his chest.

In truth, on most days he had stayed busy mending fences along the north pasture, checking every inch of his property longer into the evening than necessary. He hadn’t even spent much time at the ranch to help Gabe with the two-year-olds. When he did work with a horse, he took one of the three-year-olds out on the range for the day, making the excuse that he needed to put some miles on them to get them ready for buyers.  

It would have made sense to ask Laney to accompany him on those rides, but thoughts and feelings Laney aroused in him were too unsettling, and he had needed time to work things out in his mind.  Keeping his hands to himself, not touching her, had become more difficult with each passing day, especially with the innocent kiss she’d given him the one time he’d gone riding with her. He lay awake at night, staring at the cold dark ceiling in his room, while Laney slept just down the hall. The memory of her soft touch burned into his mind.

He’d kept a respectful distance, but his intent of courting her was faltering fast. He’d certainly never properly courted a lady before, and he was at a loss on how to proceed. Concentrating on his work became nearly impossible while his thoughts strayed endlessly to the woman he had married. Thoughts of his father, and his mother’s betrayal, had kept him away from Laney this long.

He’d enjoyed the ride they’d been on a week ago, and he’d come to look forward to spending time in her company in the evenings. She was pleasant to talk to, and seemed rather intelligent. Tyler ran a hand over his face. Her vague answers to his questions about her past left him a bit perturbed, and she cleverly steered the conversation back to him or to his horses whenever he pushed too far. Regardless of what she so obviously tried to hide, she’d wormed under his skin more firmly than a bur stuck in a saddle blanket, but not in an unpleasant way.

“You’re forbidding me to go riding?” Laney finally spoke. Her voice, which had sounded weak and hoarse when Widow Hansen left, now held an edge as sharp as a razor. Her eyes, which had been filled with uncertainty, blazed in defiance. Why was she so set on riding alone? Abruptly, she raised her chin at him, and her hands flew to her hips in a gesture that would make Widow Hansen proud.

Tyler stepped closer. His lips raised in a smile. He’d missed her feisty, independent side that she’d shown on more than one occasion in the short time he’d known her. Somehow he doubted that the agreeable and quiet demeanor she’d displayed over the past week showed her true character. He reached for her hand, and his eyes sought hers.

“Laney, I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you.” Her arm tensed, and she tried to pull away.  Tyler held firm to her hand, running his thumb along her wrist.

“I know you enjoy riding, and I’m not saying you can’t. It would simply ease my mind if you don’t go out by yourself. There’s no telling what could happen.” There was no sense in needlessly alarming her that he didn’t want her out alone because of the unrest between his and Ian’s men.

Tyler had done what he could to convince his neighbor that the sick colt that had died on Ian’s property hadn’t come from the Double M. Gabe and Ian’s foreman had almost gotten into a fistfight the other day when they met in town, and several wranglers on both sides had been in heated arguments over the last few days whenever they met along the fence lines or at the saloon. Tensions between the men grew with each passing day. Tyler hoped his visit with his neighbor today would ease some of the unrest, but until things settled, he didn’t want Laney out there on her own.  

Apparently, several of Ian’s foals had been found dead on the range over the last few days. Details had been sketchy, and no one knew what the illness was. Early this morning, Tyler had ridden to Ian’s place to see for himself if there were any more affected animals and help Ian figure out what to do. Little had he known that he would come away with a deeper respect for the man, and a sudden desire to know his wife better. Tyler chuckled, and shook his head. He never would have thought that a conversation with Ian Frazier would lead him to think differently about being a married man.

“Seven of my foals died over the course of the last three days, and I’ve got a bunch more that look sick. A few of the yearlings and mares aren’t looking so good, either. Whatever this thing is, it’s spreading like wildfire, and I don’t know how to stop it or what to do about it.” Ian had shook his head, a worried frown on his face.

 “I’m sorry, Ian,” Tyler said, and meant it. Losing just one horse was bad, but seven in one week, with more animals sick. It could be devastating for Ian’s operation.

Ian’s face hardened. He glared at Tyler. “When I get my hand on the bastard who’s responsible for turning that sick colt loose with my herd, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

“And I’ll do whatever I can to help find him,” Tyler said firmly. He held the man’s stare. Ian nodded after a few silent minutes.

“You’re too much like your pa, Tyler, to want to do harm to any horses,” Ian finally said, and placed his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “Jonas was a good man, even if we had our differences.”

Tyler’s brows raised. He’d never heard Ian speak like that about his father. For years, the man seemed to have been bitter because of the deal the Double M had with the cavalry.

“How’s it feel to be married?” Ian asked. He poured a drink from the bar in his parlor, and held the tumbler out to Tyler. With a shake of his head, Tyler declined the offer.

He tensed. How should he answer that? He’d never had a personal discussion with Ian Frazier. Their talk had always been strictly business. Ian sipped from the crystal tumbler in his hand. A smile spread across his face.

“Your wife, Laney,” Frazier said slowly, his eyes searching Tyler’s face, “she reminds me a lot of your mother.”

Tyler fisted his hands at his sides, and the muscles in his jaw tightened. Was Ian about to imply that Laney was a soiled dove?

“My mother?” he managed to ask without his voice betraying his unease.

Ian grinned. “Yes. She had the same effect on your father as Laney seems to have on you. Jonas used to walk around all starry-eyed after he met Lizzy . . ah . . . Elizabeth, just like you’re doing. She turned every man’s head.” Ian drained his glass, and poured another drink.

Tyler’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know about my mother?”

Ian’s forehead wrinkled. “Jonas didn’t talk to you about your ma?”

“I know she was one of the town’s whores.” Tyler’s voice hardened, and he glared at Ian. “So I don’t appreciate you making comparisons between her and my wife.”

Ian laughed. “I wasn’t implying that Laney is a . . . working girl.” He rubbed his chin. “Although, her little display on your wedding night was sure something, wasn’t it?”

“I’d best get home, Ian,” Tyler said. He turned before he did something he’d regret later, like put his fist into Ian’s face.

“Your mother wouldn’t have simply left Jonas without a word, Tyler.”

Ian’s words stopped Tyler at the parlor door. He slowly turned back around to face him. “What would you know about that?” he asked slowly in a low voice.

“Elizabeth came to Landry with two other women who’d been touring some of the mining camps around Helena. Old Clay at the saloon took them in, gave them a roof over their heads in exchange for . . . She quickly became one of Clay’s favorite girls.” Ian motioned for Tyler to take a seat in one of the leather chairs that faced the hearth.

“Why are you telling me this, Ian?” Tyler reluctantly took a seat. His pulse throbbed at his temples. His father had never talked to him like this about his mother.

“Lizzy wasn’t like those other women, Tyler. Circumstances made her what she was, and she did what she had to in order to keep food in her belly and a roof over her head.  Jonas had his regular girl at Clay’s, but the minute he laid eyes on Lizzy, he never looked at another woman. It didn’t take him long to convince her to marry him. She wasn’t a ranch woman, but she loved your pa.”

Tyler ran a hand through his hair. He’d never thought about the circumstances that would have made his mother choose her profession. He thought of Laney.
After the hell she put me through, I ain’t no angel.
Her vague words to him about her past echoed in his mind. Had she been forced to make a similar choice in her past, and finally decided to turn her life around by coming to Montana Territory and getting married?

“But she left,” Tyler said coldly. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, staring at his dangling hands.

Frazier shook his head. “I don’t understand that, either, Tyler. She loved your father. They had a good marriage.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, swirling the brown liquid inside his crystal tumbler. “Another thing I don’t understand is why your pa never went after her. Why did he simply let her go?”

“Her leaving destroyed my father.” Tyler forced the words from his mouth. Why was he having this conversation with Ian? All it did was strengthen his reasons for staying away from Laney, and curse his decision to court her. He didn’t want to give in to his infatuation with her.
Hell, you’re past infatuation already.

“And you don’t want to end up like him.”

Tyler’s head snapped up. Ian glared at him.

“Why did you marry that girl, Tyler? I suppose it’s none of my business, but the way I see it, you shouldn’t let your anger at your ma hold you back from loving a good woman. I may not have been a friend to you over the years, but I do know this much. A good woman is hard to come by. I almost lost my Abigail to scarlet fever, and I thank God every day that she’s here with me.  Most women don’t just up and leave their husbands.” Ian left his seat, and smiled down at him. “Like I said. You look like your father did when he met your mother. Your mind is miles away, back at your ranch.”

Tyler stood, and held out his hand. “We’ll get to the bottom of who’s responsible for making your horses sick, Ian.”

Ian nodded, and walked to the door. “Go home to your bride, Tyler. The horses are important, but not even they could make Jonas happy again.”

Ian’s parting words echoed in Tyler’s head as he guided his horse home.

 

****

 

Tyler’s eyes roamed over Laney’s expectant face. His lips twitched, and the tension seemed to flow out of him. The woman standing before him erased all thoughts of horses from his mind. Even with the trouble brewing at Ian’s place, Tyler found it hard to concentrate. Laney was a distraction he should stay away from, but Ian was right. She was also his wife, dammit! He’d spent nearly two weeks avoiding her. It was high time he stopped pitter-pattering around, and make his feelings known to her. Broken heart be damned. He couldn’t go on comparing every woman with his mother. Laney had chosen to move out west in order to marry. She loved the horses, and seemed to enjoy ranch life. She was more suited to him than his mother ever was for his father. Laney wouldn’t up and leave. He’d make sure of that.

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