Temporary Husband (12 page)

“Hell and damnation,” he swore. “She lied to me. That blasted woman promised she’d go to Two Forks and it was all a lie. I’m going to strangle her. I swear I will.”

“What? What’s she done?” Peter demanded.

“She’s here. In town.”

“So?”

“So, I told her to go to Two Forks, and she’s deliberately disobeyed me.”

Peter grinned. “I can’t wait to meet this wife of yours. I’m really starting to like her.”

“Go to hell, Bryant.” Jake slapped his Stetson on his head and strode toward the door. “I’ll finish with you later. Right now I’ve got to find my wife before she gets into trouble. Though knowing her, I’m way too late.”

“Wait a minute. Jake! What about your grandfather’s will? We need to set a court date. Wynne needs to—”

Jake stopped dead in his tracks and stomped back into the office. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not having my wife stand up in open court and tell the whole of Chesterfield about our wedding night.” He refused to turn such a private, soul-altering moment into fodder for Chesterfield’s rumor mill. He couldn’t do that to Wynne…or to himself. “You get Judge Graydon and Randolph to agree to a more private get-together. A…a
dinner party or something, where we can all discuss it casual-like.”

“A dinner party,” the lawyer repeated in disbelief. “What’s the plan, have her serve up the main course and say, ‘Oh, by the way, Jake and I did it on our wedding night. Pass the salt and let’s eat.’? I can just see that.”

Jake scowled. “I won’t allow Wynne to be embarrassed or humiliated in any way, shape or form. Understand? Can’t the judge just ask how our wedding night went? She can tell him it was great and that’ll be the end of it.”

“And was it? Great, I mean?”

Fury darkened Jake’s face. “If you weren’t my lawyer, I’d knock your teeth down your throat.”

Peter grinned. “Good thing I’m your lawyer then, isn’t it? Wait a minute. One last question before you go.”

“What?”

“This is your temporary wife, right? The one who’s leaving you once the terms of the will are met? The one you’re not in love with?”

Jake scowled, pulling the brim of his hat low over his brow. “That’s three questions, Bryant, and not one of them is any of your business. Just arrange for the dinner. Got it?”

“Fine, but you’ll have to talk to Wynne, explain what’s expected of her.”

“I’ll tell her.”

Maybe.

Or maybe he’d arrange for the judge to ask a few subtle questions over after-dinner coffee. He strode down the hall and out into the warm November sunlight, considering the matter. Wynne would never have to know the true purpose behind the get-together. He could keep it a secret. He’d just warn her that the judge was a nosy
old man and she should humor him. It might work, if he planned carefully.

He shook his head in disgust.

Wynne’s idealism must be rubbing off. Why else would he be casting himself in the role of her personal protector? When would he learn? He was the villain of the piece, dammit all, not the hero.

After signing the receipt for the groceries she’d purchased, Wynne offered Belle a cheerful farewell and pushed the loaded cart toward the exit. Before she’d reached it, a man planted himself square in front of her, blocking her path.

“Rumor has it you’re married to Jake,” he said by way of greeting. “Is that true?”

An unnatural silence descended on the crowded store and Wynne studied the man. Anger marred what might have been an attractive set of features and she wondered what she possibly could have done to antagonize him. “If you mean Jake Hondo, I’m his wife, yes,” she admitted and offered her hand. “My name’s Wynne.” He pointedly ignored her gesture, instead hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and rocking back on his heels. She slowly dropped her arm.

“Jake only married you to get his hands on my inheritance,” he announced, eyeing her belligerently.

She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “
Your
inheritance?”

“Randolph, please,” a sad-eyed woman behind him murmured, tugging on his arm. “Don’t cause a scene.”

He shook her off. “I’m Randolph Chesterfield and that ranch land he’s after rightfully belongs to me.”

“This land…it’s his inheritance?”

“Only if he’s properly wedded and bedded.”

Wynne laughed. “Then there’s no problem.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Her comment only served to infuriate him. His hands closed into fists and he stepped closer, shoving her shopping cart to one side. “You can’t know the man very well, or you wouldn’t say that.”

She lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated. “I know Jake quite well and—”

“Then you know about the conditions of his grandfather’s will.” He shot the comment like a bullet. “You know he only married you to get my land.”

“His land,” she corrected with a sunny smile. “And of course I know why he married me. Not only is Jake an honest man, he’s also the sweetest, kindest, most generous husband a woman could want. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be able to keep my nephews.” She wrapped her arms around Buster’s and Chick’s shoulders. “Why, as far as I’m concerned, he’s an angel!”

Randolph’s mouth opened and closed as he fought to digest her analysis of Jake’s character. “He sure has you buffaloed,” he said at last. “I don’t know whether to pity you or congratulate him. But I’ll give you fair warning. He doesn’t give a plugged nickel for either you or those kids. You’re nothing more to him than a means to an end. Once he gets what he’s after, you and those kids will be out on your collective backsides.”

“Randolph, please,” the woman behind him said. “Let her be.”

“Hush, Evie. I’m only speaking the truth. Someone ought to tell her about Jake—explain what a low-down, rotten snake he is before he hurts her or one of the kids.”

“Uncle Jake’s not a snake. And he wouldn’t hurt us, neither. He loves us!” Buster shouted, his face turning red with indignation. “Don’t you say anything bad about him or I’ll kick you.”

Wynne squeezed her nephew’s shoulder. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Mr. Chesterfield doesn’t know Jake the way we do.” She glared at Randolph. “You’re wrong, mister. My husband is an honorable man, and one of these days he’ll prove it to you. In the meantime, don’t you say another nasty word about him to me or the children, or you’ll regret it. Now, stand aside. It’s time we left.” She grabbed the cart and shoved it in his direction, deciding that if he didn’t move out of the way, she’d run right over his toes.

With an exaggerated sweep of his arm, Randolph stepped back. “Don’t let me keep you,” he said as she stalked past. “But just out of curiosity…How much is he paying you to crawl into bed with him? It must be a bloody fortune.”

A collective gasp ran through the store and Wynne felt her own anger skyrocket. But it was nothing compared to the fury that exploded across the countenance of the man lounging quietly in the doorway.

J
AKE STRAIGHTENED
, his eyes burning brighter than the fiery pits of hell. “I see you’ve met my wife, Chesterfield,” he said, his voice all the more terrifying for its deadly control.

Startled, Randolph whipped around and blanched. “Hondo! I—”

Jake stepped closer, crowding the man against the wall. “You speak to her again without my permission and I’ll permanently rearrange those pretty-boy features of yours. You got that?”

“Listen, Jake…I was just—”

“I didn’t catch your answer.” He grabbed a fistful of Randolph’s shirt. “Are we communicatin’ cousin? You don’t speak to her. Hell, you don’t even look at her. Understand?”

Sweat beaded Randolph’s brow as he gave a tight-lipped nod.

Jake released his grip. “Smart answer. Because if you ever interfere in my business again, I’ll put paid to your future existence. You have my personal guarantee.” His attention switched to Wynne and he jerked his head toward the door. “Get goin’.”

Without a word, she swept by. Buster followed in her wake, poking his tongue out at Randolph as he passed. Not to be outdone, Chick stopped and gave the man a swift kick in the shins before darting after his brother.

Jake’s gaze swept the crowd of shoppers gathered to catch a glimpse of his wife. He wasn’t surprised when
few met his eyes. “Just so it’s clear,” he announced in a carrying voice. “I protect my own.”

“No one doubts that,” came Belle’s dry retort. “But don’t worry about Wynne. She made quite a hit the short time she was here.”

Jake inclined his head. “Glad to hear it.” Noticing Randolph’s wife for the first time, he tipped his Stetson. “Always a pleasure, Evie.”

“Damn you, Hondo. Leave her alone or I’ll do some damage of my own,” Randolph snarled, recovering a modicum of his aplomb. “You’ve got a wife now, remember? You don’t need mine.”

Tears sprang to Evie’s gentle blue eyes and Jake instantly regretted turning his cousin’s rage in her direction. He could handle it—she couldn’t. But then, he hadn’t expected Randolph’s show of mettle. It had been a long time since he’d worked up the backbone to issue such a blatant challenge. Desperation must be riding him hard.

Jake inclined his head. “For the first time in your life, you’re right, Chesterfield. I do have a wife now.” He glanced over his shoulder at the gracefully swaying bottom disappearing down the sidewalk. “Our conversation can keep. She can’t.”

With that, he stalked from the store, his swift stride narrowing the gap between him and his troublesome wife. He caught up with her by the truck.

“What are you doing here, Wynne?” he asked as he helped dump bags of groceries into the bed of the pickup. “I thought I told you to go to Two Forks for supplies.”

“You did.”

Her back was to him and a cool breeze stirred the white-blond hair at her nape. A sharp pang of desire twisted his gut in knots. She was so delicate, so vulnerable. And so damned unpredictable. “Then why didn’t you?” he demanded.

She glanced over her shoulder, her green eyes reflecting her surprise at his vehemence. “It was too far. I didn’t think I could make it.”

“What do you mean…couldn’t make it?”

“It’s the three pedals,” Buster offered. “I tried to help, but she’s not very good at it.”

“Three—” Understanding dawned. “You don’t know how to drive a stick shift?” he questioned ominously.

“I do…in theory. I’m just not so great at the ‘in practice’ part,” she confessed.

He swallowed the multitude of retorts that leapt to his tongue. “Get in the truck,” he instructed. “I’ll follow you home.”

Chick sighed.

Buster rolled his eyes and groaned. “Uh-oh.”

Jake glared. “What’s wrong now?”

“I don’t do reverse,” she explained.

“You don’t—” He bit off an exclamation. “But you
can
go forward, correct?”

She grinned. “Well enough to have gotten us here.”

“Well enough to get you back home again, too?”

“I think so.”

He yanked open the cab door. “Stand on the sidewalk. I’ll back the truck out.”

Buster tugged on Wynne’s arm. “Uncle Jake sounds funny again,” he whispered. “Like when he was in the store.”

“I think that means he’s annoyed,” she whispered back.

“I’m not annoyed.” Jake corrected her grimly. “I’m mad enough to spit nails. Now go stand on that sidewalk like I told you.”

Silently they did as he asked. Starting the engine with a roar, he spun out of the parking space and left the pickup idling in the middle of the street. “Hop in and
start for home,” he called to Wynne. “I’ll be right on your tail.”

The three climbed into the truck. With an earsplitting grinding of gears, Wynne popped the clutch into first and coughed her way down the road. Jake winced. His mechanic was going to love her. At a transmission a month, Billy Dee would soon be able to afford that Hummer he’d been eyeing. Shaking his head in disgust, Jake climbed into an ancient Jeep and planted his front bumper inches off her back one. The first time she stalled the engine, he almost rear-ended her. After that, he kept a respectable distance between them.

Ten minutes later they reached the driveway to Lost Trail. It took three tries for her to find the right gear and keep the engine running long enough to make the turn. Jake released a gusty sigh. He had a horrible feeling this was only the beginning of his tribulations with his adorable wife. Unfortunately he had a tough time working up any real irritation with her—especially after her spirited defense of him in the general store.

Dusty emerged from the barn to greet them as they pulled into the yard. He eyed Wynne and the children with trepidation. “That her?” he questioned, poking his head in the open window of the Jeep. “Where’d the kids come from? Don’t remember you sayin’ anything about kids.”

“I told you my wife packed a few surprises. They’re just one of them. Come on and I’ll introduce you.”

Dusty held up his hands and started backing toward the barn. “That’s not necessary. Any ol’ time will do. Next week. Next month. How ‘bout while they’re packing to leave?”

Jake shook his head. “Not a chance. You’ll meet them now. That way you can keep an eye on the kids while I teach Wynne how to drive a stick.”

“I’m no baby-sitter,” Dusty protested.

“Yeah? Well, you’re not much of a foreman, either. But I don’t see that that’s ever stopped you from collecting the wages of one. Now shut your yap and come on.” A sudden thought occurred and he swiveled to glare a warning. “And don’t spit on her.”

Wynne turned her attention from the endless expanse of pastureland flying by the truck window and glanced at Jake. “I appreciate your teaching me to drive the truck.”

“You should have told me you’d never driven a standard transmission before.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t notice it was standard until we were ready to go shopping.”

“Once you did notice, you should have waited until I returned. You could have caused an accident.”

Silence descended again and she twirled her wedding band around her finger, scrambling for something else to say. “The people of Chesterfield are really nice,” she volunteered. “Belle sure does have a busy store. I guess that’s why you wanted me to go to Two Forks, right? Because it isn’t as crowded there?”